The Kind Ghost of Hurricane (Michael Afton x reader)

-Chapter 1-

Posting the first chapter now because I forgot to do it yesterday.
I was studying for an oral test, but at least I got a good grade.

-Mari

___________-

You woke up in the middle of the night, surprised that you even managed to sleep so much.

You decided to take off your daily clothes for the pajamas. You didn't need to wake up early tomorrow morning, so comfy clothes were more than acceptable.
After that, you went back to sleep, smiling at the comfort of the sheets.

The next day you woke up refreshed from the full night's sleep, the sunlight was peeking through the blinds, falling directly on your face. The dawn of a good day, you thought, until you realized that you had to work that day.

Luckily the shift didn't start until 3 pm, and it was still 11 am. You had at least four hours to do whatever you wanted.

You walked downstairs, finding no one at home. No one, except for a little piece of paper that was left on the table, together with three homemade cookies.

~I went grocery shopping. Eat only those three cookies and nothing else, otherwise, you'll go to work with a stomach ache.

-You know who little gremlin.~

Don't you love when your mother calls you a gremlin?

When it happens you wonder, is she calling me like that as a passive-aggressive action, or because she really likes to play with you?

You were a pretty realistic, other than pessimistic, person. You knew it wasn't your fault that now you live like this. You aren't complaining though, life cannot be better like this, but you know that you didn't ask to be born, you just did. Accidentally, but you did.

It wasn't your fault your "dad" wasn't prepared for it, but he really does have to know that condoms are just a piece of plastic, that can be broken if they aren't strong enough. And the ones bought in a vending machine aren't the best in circulation.

You passed the time before lunch writing. It was like a stress reliever for you. It wasn't a diary, of course, you weren't capable of expressing your emotions in a talk, let alone writing them.

There wasn't a real genre you were writing, you just took the pen and started writing all of your fantasies. God, you could write an entire mature book with Michael Afton in it.

It wasn't something you were passionate about, and you surely weren't good enough to write and publish an actual book, so it was difficult to pursue a career like this. But you've never dreamed of it, you like that the stories were secluded in your room, you didn't want anyone to see them. That's probably the only thing you were passionate about, keeping things to yourself. It was easier than having to talk with someone.

"I hope you're up, because otherwise I'm going to open the curtains!" You heard your mom say from the living room, followed by the thud of a closed door.

After lunch you got yourself prepared for the 3-9 shift you were obligated to do. At least it's not a night shift. Those two robots give me the creeps. Looking at them in the day was easier than in the night.

Black pants, an ochre shirt with your name pin on the left part of your chest, purple tie for some reason, while the black hat and bunny ears were in the bag, together with everything else I needed from home for the birthday party someone dumped me on two days before.

After pedaling for half an hour, you reached the diner. A really big gray building, where the only thing colored was the sign on top of the entrance, with the drawing of the yellow bear and the yellow bunny, one with a microphone and the other with a guitar. Both were smiling at the upcoming visitors, always excited to see the two friendly robots. I was traumatized the first time I came here, how are these kids built?! How can they smile at those two nightmare fueling animatronics?