|5SOS imagines|

post-apocalyptic - michael

11K READS BITCHES WOOOO ILYSM !!! fuckmeupbitchesexacrlt100wordswhooo

also p.s if you read all the authors note/story/imagine  i have a question - should i right a fanfic based on this concept?

inspired by the concept of fallout 4 if you've played it, and just a little rant here, if you don't care about video games then just read the imagine, but fallout 76 tricentennial edition is fucking £80 you are joking me!!! also if you've never played fallout the concept is basically post-apocalyptic??? i think? just imagine everything is deserted lmao.

-

there wasn't anything anywhere.

i mean, apart from the residue of buildings that had once been destroyed months ago.

you had been out here for three months to be exact. we all die in the end - we are all dying, with every second, but you were dying just a little quicker than the rest.

all the water was contaminated, you had half a bottle of clean water left. fresh food hadn't existed for weeks, just meat from any dead animal you could cook over a campfire just about kept you going for a small amount of time. as the weeks passed, you did too.

until one day, you heard a shout.

a hard, australian accent echoed throughout the empty building you were looting through, searching for anything you could find.

"fuck off, calum!" ashton, tell your boyfriend to stop." you heard the voice say. your heart burst with relief, someone else was here. you had seen people, apart from the fact half of them were dead. you were just overwhelmed with joy.

"he's not my fucking boyfriend!" another voice, with a similar, yet deeper accent, spoke up.

the voices got distant, and even more distant, and then you could barely here them.

"hello?" you screeched up the battered stairwell.

"who the fuck is that?!" you heard another accent, which was slightly deeper than the third.

"hello? could you come up here, please?" a softer voice spoke, probably gesturing towards you.

you slowly crept up the metal stairs, and after at least six flights, maybe seven, maybe nine, and after all your hard work of climbing stairs, you were greeted with four faces.

one had curly, ashy blonde hair, with gorgeous eyes and a muscular stance. another had a similar type of hair but a darker colour, with small, but popping, dimples. the other was tanned, with dark eyes to match his dark hair, and pretty, pink, plump, lips - although they were as chapped as hell.

the fourth, though, caught your eye. he had bleach-blonde hair, with multiple tints or random colour in which you thought was from where he must of dyed his hair multiple times. he had a cold, hard stare coming from his green eyes. he was the most muscular out of all of them, but he seemed rugged, and slightly scary, as he was a lot taller than you and seemed really fucking angry.

"so, you gonna talk?" he spoke up.

"michael, be nice." the one with curly blonde hair spoke.

"who are you?" the dark haired boy asked.

"im (y/n)." you answer. "and you all?"

"why should we tell you-"

"michael, shut the fuck up. im ashton, this is luke, calum, and, well, michael."

"nice to, uh, meet you. have you guys got any water by any chance?" you ask, voice croaky and throat dry from the lack of liquid.

"yeah, here, catch." michael throws you a bottle of somewhat greenish water.

you gave him a confused look.

"oh, my god." he chuckles. "you think your gonna get fresh water out here? not if you want to die you won't."

"michael!" calum shouted, startling you all. "give the girl a break. here, (y/n), pass it here."

"look, let's all go back to our place and show (y/n) how to fucking survive."

-

"and that is how you filter water."

"she's too dumb to know how." michael sneered.

"will you shut the fuck up?" you yelled slightly. a bunch of sniggers emerged from around you.

the sun had fallen ages ago and stars were in the sky, accompanied by the moon. you were all sat outside an old shop, campfire blazing during the night.

"i suggest we all get to sleep, don't you?" luke suggests.

"yeah, i suppose. ill get going, then?" you go to stand up, but a harsh, strong, heavy hand pulls you down, landing on the ground with a large thud.

"your sticking with us now, dumbass." michael smiled, his cheeks glowing in the light of the hot, orange, glowing flames.

-

your little pocket radio told you the time, six fifty five. you turned it up gently, frank sinatra blasting from the small little speakers quietly.

you were the only one awake, and watched as all the boys slept peacefully, michaels chest heaving both up and down. you got up and stood outside, as to not disturb them with your music.

michael intrigued you. he looked so fucking hot. he was handsome, and despite of his rugged appearance and cocky attitude and protective layer he put over himself you knew he would be a gentleman at heart.

"hey." you heard a familiar voice coming from behind you. it was none other than michael.

"hey." you greeted.

"you couldn't sleep?"

"nah, i actually slept the best ive had in three months. you?"

"alright, i suppose. god knows what time it is, or day for that matter. if you think about it, right - say today was a tuesday. it might not be, you just have to think that someone kept count since then."

"it's six fifty nine, on exactly a tuesday morning."

"how the fuck do you know?"

you showed him the little radio.

"what the fuck?" he chuckled quietly, careful not to wake up his mates.

it was silent for a while, before he spoke up.

"you know what, (y/n)?"

"what?"

"i think i like you, you know. like i really like you. like, i think i like like you."