some guy from some band

Mystery Girl Part 2

Josh Dun x reader

Read the rest: Part 1, Part 3

Summary: Continuing to tease the clique with your identity but finally getting a burst of confidence and shaking things up.

Words: 1,098

A/N: So there are just a few things I wanted to clear up so there is no confusion.
Y/S/C = Your Skin Colour
Y/H/C = Your Hair Colour
Y/I/U = Your Instagram Username

Since Josh and Tyler revealed your relationship with Josh, it was getting harder to go out in public with him. There were times when people would spot you two but not enough that they could place a name to your face. Some members of the clique had gotten glimpses of your beautiful Y/S/C skin and Y/H/C hair, but still no one was sure who you were.

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let’s all just take a minute to appreciate that Ryan gave up a scholarship to give full commitment to Panic! At The Disco as well as being the one who reached out to Pete and inevitably got them signed

I Don’t Dance (Michael Clifford)

Summary: based on this song (unfortunately not the one from high school musical 2) you and badboy!Michael become close friends, but you know it’s a bad idea to fall in love with someone who doesn’t plan to stay

Word Count: 1,862

A/N: *ted moseby voice* I’M BACK BABY DOLL. This is long af, I was hype. Requested by anon.

Masterlist

You don’t know what made you want to explore the roof of your building that night. Maybe it was the cloudless night sky, or maybe your bedroom just felt too small. Either way, you found yourself climbing the treacherous-looking fire escape, trying not to wake your mom in the next room. When you finally reached the top of the creaky staircase and stepped onto the roof, you already felt soothed by the breeze and open air. You took a few steps toward the edge, hoping to get a better view of the city below you, when you realized you weren’t alone.

A boy around your age was taking a long drag from a cigarette and walking precariously along the ledge of the building. Suddenly he stopped, leaning dangerously over the edge.

“Don’t!” you shouted before you could stop yourself. The boy looked up with a smirk, as if he had known you were there all along.

“Don’t what?” he asked, turning to face you. Your cheeks went red.

“Don’t… you know, jump,” you stuttered out, wringing your hands nervously. He took a step away from the ledge, smirking even more at you.

“Wasn’t planning on it, sweetheart,” he said, taking a seat on the edge of the building with his feet dangling off the side. After a moment of hesitation, you decided to sit down next to him, stealing glances as he released a puff of smoke into the night air. The city lights below reflected off his eyebrow piercing, and illuminated his skin just enough for you to see his tattoos.

“I know you,” you said as the realization hit you. “I’ve seen you around school. It’s Michael, right?” Michael grinned to himself.

“I see my reputation precedes me,” he laughed, taking another drag from the cigarette. “And you are?”

“Y/N.”

“Wanna smoke, Y/N?” he held out his pack of cigarettes, but you shook your head.
“No thanks.” A silence fell between you as you watched the city below you.

“So what brings you to the roof at this time of night?” Michael asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“I don’t know,” you mused. “I guess it started to feel like the walls were closing in on me. I wanted to see the sky.”

“That’s why I like it up here. You don’t feel so closed in,” Michael agreed, putting out his cigarette.

“Do you come up here a lot?” you asked, turning your attention away from the street below you.

“Every night, pretty much,” he shrugged. “It’s nice to get away from people sometimes.”

“Sorry for crashing your party of one.”

“I don’t mind.”

Two hours later, you knew quite a bit more about Michael Clifford. You knew which rumors were made up (him selling pot out of his locker, sleeping with his Spanish teacher) and which ones were true (yes he really did have sex with four different girls in the same janitor’s closet last year, and he really was failing six out of seven classes).You knew that his teachers and parents all thought he was a screwup, and that he could smoke a cigarette faster than anyone you’d ever seen. He now knew a bit about you, too: how you and your mom had moved into the tiny apartment downstairs after hitting some financial troubles, how you struggled to keep your grades up because a scholarship was your only hope of going to college. You didn’t realize you had moved closer to him until your shoulder brushed against his. Michael didn’t seem to mind, his eyes on his feet swinging next to yours.

A few stories below you, music wafted out of an open window. You smiled as you recognized the familiar tune.

“I love this song,” you said quietly, catching Michael’s eye as he glanced at you. You extended your hand toward him. “Dance with me.”

“Forget it, sweetheart. I don’t dance,” Michael shook his head, lighting another cigarette.

“Oh.” You face fell, and you couldn’t help but feel painfully embarrassed.

“It’s nothing against you,” Michael explained, making you look up at him again. “I just plan on getting out of this crap town as soon as possible. And the fewer people I have to miss, the better.”

Three months later, your nightly tradition of sitting on the roof with Michael remained. One night, you went up to find him strumming his guitar and sitting in his usual spot.

“Hey Mikey, new song?” you asked, sitting down next to him. It wasn’t unusual for him to play his songs for you as he finished them.

“Yeah, want to hear?”

You nodded eagerly, and Michael began to play. You listened intently as usual, trying not to get distracted by the city lights reflecting in his green eyes, or the mesmerizing way his hands moved over the guitar strings. You reminded yourself for the millionth time that having feelings for Michael would end badly.

“What do you think?” he asked once the song was over, placing his guitar on the flat surface of the roof behind him.

“It’s amazing, Mikey. You’re really talented,” you reply, beaming at him. Michael blushed a bit, shrugging off your compliment.

“Thanks, Y/N. Hopefully I’m talented enough to get out of here,” he said, gesturing to the city below you. You knew Michael wanted to leave your hometown to pursue his music career, but it still hurt to hear him talk about leaving.

“You really want to get out that bad?” you mumbled, trying to hide your disappointment.

“Yeah, I mean, what is there for me here?” You didn’t answer his question.

“I’ve been playing and writing with some guys from school. We’re talking about starting a band, maybe playing some gigs around here,” Mikey continued, kicking his sneaker against the side of the building.

“That’s great, Mikey!” you encouraged him, hoping that if his band was here, maybe Michael wouldn’t want to leave so badly.

“Then hopefully if it goes well, we can move to a bigger city and actually have a shot at making it.”

You swore you could feel your heart breaking as the boy next to you made plans to leave forever. You wouldn’t admit it, but nothing around here would be the same without Mikey. Sitting with him on the roof was your favorite part of the day, and he was the person you looked forward to the most. You had tried to hard to fight it, but you couldn’t deny that you were in love with Michael Clifford. But he didn’t give a damn, which is why it was so easy for him to leave.

“Mikey, it’s getting late. I think I’m gonna go in,” you said, getting up to climb back down the fire escape before he could see your tears.

You didn’t come to the roof the next night. Or the night after that. After a week, you hadn’t seen or heard from Michael at all. You decided to go see his band’s first gig, watching from the back as the crowd went wild for them. They were all really talented, and you knew it was only a matter of time until they were off to bigger and better things.

Two weeks since that night on the roof, you were missing Michael like crazy. Still, you convinced yourself that missing him was easier than smiling through the pain while he talked about leaving. You were going to have to miss him eventually, so you might as well start now. And before long, Michael would leave town without a second thought about you. That was how he wanted things to be, and you had known since the night you met him that he didn’t want attachments.

You were getting ready for bed when you heard the fire escape outside your bedroom creak loudly. The noise was followed by a gentle tapping on the window. You moved the curtain to see Michael, standing on the fire escape with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his black jeans.

“Come out,” he said, once you had opened the window.

“Mikey,” you sighed. “I’m going to bed.”

“Y/N, please? Just come out for a minute,” he pouted, and your resistance crumbled. You climbed out the window and stood on the small metal platform with him.

“Alright, I’m out,” you said impatiently, crossing your arms to shield you from the chilly night air. Michael saw you shiver and immediately slipped out of his hoodie, wrapping it around your shoulders. You accepted it gratefully, sliding your arms into the warm sleeves. Everything around you smelled like Mikey now, like cigarettes mixed with something sweet and unknowable. He was looking at you silently, like he was trying to decide what to say.

“When we first met, I told you I didn’t want any more people to miss when I’m gone,” he began carefully. You nodded, waiting for him to continue.

“And at the time, it seemed like a good plan. Because there wasn’t anyone I really cared about. And I thought that was a good thing, because it would be easier to leave.” You listened in silence as he kept going, trying to find the right words to say what he needed to.

“But then you came along. And you changed all of that. For the first time, part of me didn’t want to leave, because it would mean leaving you. And I realized that you were the only person I cared about enough to make me want to stick around. Because…” he hesitated again, gathering up his courage. “Because I love you.”

“Mikey, I…” you didn’t know what to say. On one hand, this was everything you had ever dreamed of him saying to you. But you knew he still had his plans.

“Wait! There’s one more thing,” he said, pulling his phone from his pocket. Music started playing from the tiny phone speakers, just loud enough for the two of you to hear. Michael slid the phone back into his pocket and held out his hand to you.

“May I have this dance?” he asked with a nervous smile. You nodded, still speechless, and let him pull you close. As the two of you swayed back and forth to the music on the rickety fire escape, you felt yourself relax into his chest and breathe in his scent.

“I love you too,” you said finally. You looked up to see the grin on Michael’s face. He lifted your chin to kiss you slowly, your bodies still rocking along to the music.

“What does this mean for the future?” you asked, doubts starting to creep into your mind again.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just want to be with you for as long as I can. The rest we can figure out when we get there.”

It wasn’t an ideal answer, but you decided that all your questions and problems could wait for another day. You were finally right where you belonged, in Mikey’s arms.

“I thought you didn’t dance,” you whispered against his neck after a few minutes of silence had passed.

“Anything for you, sweetheart,” he answered, pulling you closer to him.

thanksgiving

Summary: In which Calum is new to Thanksgiving, little tykes run around, you call him Brown Eyes, adults sit at the kids table, and Something More falls into laps.

Word Count: 3.9k

Insp: (x)

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