Absolutely not. ~{ Michael Afton x Male Reader}~

~12~

Hello friendssssssssss i am back

ish.

cw: mention of "mysterious liquids". and kennith being creepy. Literal evidence of him stalking him oh no 

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Y/n pov

"(Y/n!!)" I shove the photos in my pocket, as Michael rushes towards me.I make eye contact. "Hey..!" He beams. "Um... Hi.. Is everything okay?" He chuckles. "Yes of course-- I was wondering if you're busy tomorrow? I know you said you have work today but.. Are you busy.. Tomorrow?" I process what he says. Trying to ignore the polaroids in my pocket. I don't have work tomorrow. Tell the truth. ".. I'm not. Why?" He hums. "Wanna hang out?" I stare. He wants to hang out. With me. "I..... Sure!"

"Is yours an option?"

".. Sure."

-----Time skip to (y/n) In car-----------

The photos flashed through my head on loop as I drove home, flooding over the positive moments from just 10 minutes ago. How did he get them? Where? Was he in my house? Does he know where I live? I resist the urge to check my back seat. Eyes on the road. Eyes.... On the road. He could be watching me right now. Waiting. Why would he even want photos of me? I wouldn't be surprised if he tried to kill me in my sleep. Is he there now? I hope not. He would get caught. No way in hell am I going to work now. I start speeding. Almost home. Maybe he would want to be caught.

When I inevitably arrive, I rush inside. Not paying attention to the person inside the Toyota corolla pulling up. I've never seen their face, and I certainly won't now. Their face is unimportant right now. I'm not taking any chances. Not with Kennith. Not while knowing he had pictures of me in his pocket. Pictures of me inside of my home. Outside my windows. From the closet. Nothing is safe. I start looking everywhere and anywhere he could be. Under my bed. The closet. The shower. The storage closet on my balcony. Through my windows. I even left the apartment to check my truck. He's not here. Yet. I ran back inside, a few neighbors giving me questioning glances. I lock the doors. The windows. Shut the blinds. Closed the curtains. Anything to get him away from the inside of my house. To keep him out. I sit on the old ratty couch; Unable to breathe. It's quiet. Too quiet. Uncomfortable. I rip the photos out of my pocket. I need to look at them again.

There's about 15. All different. A few are stained with questionable fluids. I don't want to know what it is. I think I know; but I don't want to know. 5 of them are me sleeping in my bed. They seem to have taken place over various points in time. Different hair= different times. 9 of them are me in the shower. Some at school. After gym... Covered in the mysterious liquid. Shit he is disgusting. Half of them are me here. In my house. I throw them on the floor. They're disgusting. I stare at the rest. They're all me. One of them sticks out to me. Me with Michael and his friends. I collect them and throw them away. By now it is dark. It gets dark at 5 pm nowadays. I turn on the TV. My room isn't safe anymore, and neither is sleeping. I sit on the corner farthest away from the window and wait. Refusing to sleep.

I didn't ever go to detention, and I'm glad that I never did. I'm only upset that I made Michael leave my apartment. 

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Theres more on its way :)

- yipei