Halloween [✓] (Michael Myers X F!Reader)

Chapter 4

"Don't make me come after you, little man!" you jokingly warned. You were resting in a half crouch and watching the boy in front of you closely, ready to chase him when he ran.

Tommy giggled with flour all over him. It was in his hair, along his arms and even all over his clothes.

If you didn't know the Doyles so well, they would have been livid. But Tommy's parents usually didn't return until early morning so you had all the time to clean it up with him.

The blonde faked right and then sped past you, dashing right out of the kitchen and into the living room, his small legs carrying him as fast as he could go.

Of course, catching up to him was easy. You feigned exhaustion and huffed and puffed even though your heart was barely going faster than normal.

"Tommy~! I'm gonna get you!" You sang.

"Noo, (Y/N)!" He squeaked, taking a leap over a stray blanket and heading upstairs.

You were right on his heels, leaving your own cloud of flour mixing with the one Tommy left behind.

Following the trail of white footsteps up the stairs and down the hallway, they stopped outside Tommy's room where they abruptly disappeared behind the closed door.

Although you saw him escape to his room, you still held back for a bit to let the tension fill the air.

After a moment, you slowly eased open the door, it making a quiet creak as it swung in.

Tommy's soft, quick breathing sounded from his closet. You tiptoed into the room, purposefully stepping on a toy that began to sing.

"Hmm... I wonder where he could have gone?" You asked yourself a bit too loudly.

Tommy giggled almost silently from the closet.

"Hmm..." You grabbed the knob on the door in your hand. Twisting it quickly, you pulled it open and pointed right at him. "Ah ha! Thought you could get away from me, didn't you?"

He launched his tiny frame at you. You caught him easily, smiling at his utter happiness.

"You got me, (Y/N)." He swiped at the strands on his forehead and pushed some sweaty ones back. "It's unfair. You're too good at this!"

"It's all about practice, little man. Practice."

"Are the cookies done yet?" His eyes glittered with excitement.

The timer on the oven decided right then to buzz. "It would seem the deliciousness is done being made."

Tommy gave a squeal and jumped out of your arms. He was halfway down the stairs before you could stop him.

"Hey!" You yelled down to him. "You're helping me cleaning this up."

"Okay, (Y/N)."

You glanced around at Tommy's catastrophe of a room. Toys were scattered everywhere, patches of white were all over the floor and on his bed sheets and so many other places where they really shouldn't be.

This was what you got for having a flour war with a 6 year old.

Still, you couldn't complain babysitting a kid like him. Tommy was extremely well behaved for hisbage, rarely threw tantrums and you barely needed to scold him.

But like all children around that age, he was sensitive, easily influenced by others and sometimes a bit too jumpy for his own good.

Just like you. Especially because it was that time of the year again.