Imagines and One-Shots (Book Three)

Misread (Michael Clifford)

Warnings: Like one or two swears, uh a knife i guess idk

also sorry if ur name is amanda lmao

~

"Michael Gordon!" you shouted out into the apartment, "If you do not come get your phone within the next three seconds, it's going in the dishwasher!"

"Jesus, Y/N," Michael said as he rushed into the kitchen, "Sorry, I was in the bathroom. No need for the threats."

"Maybe you should get a less annoying ringtone then," you smiled sweetly, loading the last bit of dishes into the dishwasher before turning it on.

As you stood back upright and dried your hands, you heard Michael groan. You looked over your shoulder at him to find him staring at his phone. You cleared your throat so he would look up at you, cocking an eyebrow when he did.

"Amanda," he murmured, causing you to sigh.

"I don't understand why you don't just block her number," you stated, "You never reply to her anyway."

"You know she'd find a new way to contact me then," he shook his head, turning his phone onto silent and putting it in his pocket.

"Well then, maybe you just need to date better girls," you suggested.

"She was fine when we were dating. The whole breaking up thing was what set her off."

"No, she was still horrible when you were dating," you informed him, "You just refused to believe me when I told you."

"She wasn't horrible," he countered.

"Mikey, the day you introduced me to her, she told me she'd slit my throat in my sleep if I tried anything with you," you said monotonously, "Forgive me for thinking that girl was the conductor of the one-stop train into Psychoville."

"She's not psy-"

"She threatened to kill me," you deadpanned, "Multiple times."

"Alright, so she's a little obsessive," he breathed harshly, "I'm just trying to forget I ever saw something in her, okay?"

"Then start by blocking her number or changing yours," you shook your head, turning back to finish the last of the dishes, "'Cause she's not gonna stop until you say or do something about it."

~

And, to your credit, that advice did work...for a few days... Michael hadn't received any sort of message from Amanda – text or email or Facebook – since the day he finally blocked her on all platforms she could possibly reach him on.

But that little bubble of safety and calmness was popped the day she showed up at your apartment.

It was a normal Friday – you and Michael had been home for about an hour and a half when you both got off work. You hadn't been into your weekly movie night for very long – probably only 10 or so minutes – when you heard someone storm into the apartment. The two of you jumped, your heads snapping up and your eyes widening in horror as you both stared in shock at Michael's ex-girlfriend.

"What the fuck?" Amanda seethed, looking right at you, "What did I tell you about trying anything?"

"That was when you were together!" you squeaked, "What the hell are you doing here?!"

"I'm taking back what's mine," she narrowed her eyes at you, before turning her attention to her ex, "Let's go, Clifford."

"Uh..." Michael cocked an eyebrow, "No...?" She laughed bitterly, making your eyes widen again when she pulled a fairly large knife out from behind her back.