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bisexual-thoughtss · 7 months

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Could you write a Tim Leflour story? Where he pledges to no sex, drugs, or alcohol and his girlfriend, the reader, is upset about the whole no sex thing so she gets on his nerves about little things like brushing his thigh during class, talking about hot guys in her class with some of her friends, and purposely wearing skimpy clothes to tick him off. He gets mad and breaks the no drugs rule by smoking a joint and the reader gets a call from Tim telling her to come to his dorm. Obviously, ✨jealousy smut✨.

Trying to write him less subby was a challenge for me!

Tim Laflour x Reader

Tim is nothing if not a little flighty when it comes to his interests. You want nothing more than to support Tim in whatever venture he dives headfirst into, and you do for the most part. Encouraging his better ideas, trying to steer him away from the not so good ones.

This one was the worst one, this pledge. But you supported him anyway, because if there’s one thing you know about Tim, it’s that he gets distracted easily. So you were certain he’d forget about it sooner rather than later.

But of course, much to your chagrin, this was the thing he followed through on. It’s been weeks, and you’re getting desperate. You’ve been trying to support him, but your own hand is just not enough anymore.

So you hatched a plan. You tried to be subtle, just little things here and there to rile him up, but this week has been hell, getting you even hornier while he seems unaffected.

On Monday, you went over to his place to watch a movie, cuddling up to him, sneaking your hand under his shirt to feel his muscles tense, throwing your leg over his hip as you laid next to him. Nothing.

The next day as you relaxed on campus with your friends, they discussed which guys they thought were hot lately. You lean against Tim on the grassy hill, listening to them bicker. Usually you didn’t have any input other than to tell one of them that they needed to have better standards, but not this time.

“What about Mikey?” You suggest, feeling Tim tense behind you. Mikey was one of his buddies on the hockey team. He’s alright looking, but you only suggest him because you know picking one of Tim’s teammates will drive him up the wall.

“Oh you’re right, he’s so hot!” One of your friends squeals and you laugh. You feel Tim huff quietly behind you and you crane your neck to look up at him.

“You okay?” You ask innocently.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he smiles and you want to groan. No dice there either.

Wednesday you keep it simple. Today you and Tim have a lecture together, and you steer him towards the back of the hall once you get there. You spend most of the class with your hand innocently draped over his thigh, every once in a while moving high up his thigh to give a little squeeze. About half an hour into the lecture, you ‘accidentally’ drop your pencil.

“Whoops,” you mutter, leaning down to pick it up. You brace yourself against Tim’s thigh, nearly at his hip. He tenses as you search the floor, your breasts pressed against his leg as you lean down.

“Got it!” You whisper as you lean back up, your hand ‘slipping’ towards his inner thigh as you do. You give his leg a little squeeze and smile up at him before going back to taking notes. You can see him squirming in your periphery, but he still makes no moves when class ends.

By Thursday you want to scream in frustration. You’re going to hang out with him until he has to go to hockey practice, and you’ve decided that if you can’t make him give in, you’re at least going to get him as frustrated as you are. You pick a shirt that you know makes your boobs look good, and a little skater skirt to go with it.

“Hi,” you smile innocently when he opens the door for you.

“I- uh, hi,” he stutters as you come inside.

“Dinner? I brought some stuff for an easy meal before you go to practice,” you hold up the two grocery bags that he hadn’t noticed. Ever the gentleman, he takes them from you immediately, setting them on the counter for you. You bend over at the waist and rustle through the cabinet of pots and pans to grab the ones you want. You know he can see right up your skirt, getting the full view of your ass and the little lacy panties you’d chosen, so you take your time. When you re-emerge with them, Tim is standing motionless behind you, eyes wide.

“Can you fill this up with water?” You smile, handing him the larger pot. He nods wordlessly, moving to the sink in a trance.

You work in some more bending over as you cook, letting him get some good glimpses down your shirt as well.

You eat dinner like normal, throwing a random channel on the TV until it’s time for him to go. You use his thigh to push yourself off the couch, giving it a squeeze as you stand up. He gathers up his gear and walks with you downstairs.

You pull him into a kiss before you part ways, slipping him just enough tongue to make him look dazed when you pull away.

“Have a good time at practice,” you smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek before you head home.

Unbeknownst to you, Tim had been flustered and frustrated all week. He’s had to take a cold shower everyday he’s seen you, and he’s not sure how much more their water bill can take. He’s at practice now, and it’s not going well either. He’s extra frustrated now and he’s taking it out on his teammates. After the second time he slams someone into the boards, coach screams at him to get off the ice. He flips his gloves off as soon as he exits the ice, yanking his helmet off after. Everything feels too hot and too tight on his oversensitive skin. He quickly unlaces his skates, stomping back to the locker room and chucks his gear back into his bag, hauling it over his shoulder.

Once he gets home he can’t stand it anymore, he has to relax. Digging around in his nightstand, he finally finds what he’s looking for. Victoriously, he pulls out his last joint and a lighter from the depths of the drawer. He settles in the chair in the living room before lighting up. He takes a couple drags, savoring the feeling of calm that washes over him in the next few minutes. It’s not long before he feels heat settling in his groin, his skin feeling extra sensitive against his clothes. He catches sight of the X on the back of his hand and scoffs. He goes over to the sink, vigorously scrubbing the marker off his hand. Once most of it is gone, he makes his decision to call you. He jogs over to the phone, quickly punching in your number.

His voice was raspy when you picked up the phone. All he’d said was “come over” and you were already out of your seat.

You make it over in record time, practically running up the stairs. When you open the door he’s in the living room chair, head tipped back against the wall with his eyes closed. The smell tips you off as to what he’s been up to.

“Tim?” You call and his head pops up. He smiles languidly at you, motioning you over.

“Missed you,” he makes grabby hands as he says it, making you laugh.

“What happened?” You ask, gesturing towards his hand that’s now devoid of the X. He doesn’t answer, opting instead to pull you into his lap. He nuzzles into your neck, his hands finding their way under the hem of your top to touch your flushed skin. You pick up the joint, holding it to his lips. He takes a drag before you put it back down in the ashtray and pull him towards you by his chin, inhaling as he blows the smoke into your mouth.

You feel fuzzy already, the intimacy only adding to the feeling. You take another drag directly from the joint, wiggling as close as you can get to Tim in the little arm chair.

He takes the joint from you, putting it back down before pulling you into a kiss. You melt into it immediately, as you’ve only gotten quick pecks for the past month. When he starts to push you away, you can’t hold back the whine you let out.

“Just wanna move to the bed,” he tells you, and you’re suddenly hopping off his lap, making him laugh.

You usher him into the bedroom and when you turn around after closing the door he’s pressing you into the solid wood, his hands above your head caging you in. His eyes are dark as he looks down at you hungrily. He presses a kiss to your lips before trailing down your jaw to nose at your neck.

“You’ve been teasing me all week,” he murmurs into your skin making you shiver.

“I-“ you start to protest but he shushes you.

“I think,” he starts, his fingers finding their way into your hair leaving his thumb to slide along your jaw, “I’m gonna repay the favour.”

“W-what do you mean?” You shudder as he presses kisses down your chest. You’re still wearing your skimpy outfit from earlier, leaving him plenty of skin to touch. His knee slots between your thighs, pressing up until you’re practically seated on his leg. You let out a whimper at the contact, the thin lace and his basketball shorts are all that separates you. He smirks as you try and rub against him, groaning when you realize his shorts are too slippery. You whine as you realize they don’t provide any friction when you slide against his leg.

“Tim, please,” you whimper, mouth going dry as his hands slide up into your shirt, pushing the fabric up as he goes. Once he’s pulled your shirt over your head, he quickly unclips your bra and drops that onto the pile of clothes too. His hands slide up your back, pressing you towards him as his lips close around one of your nipples. He swirls his tongue before sucking, and you find yourself sighing happily, your fingers threading into his hair. He gives the other the same treatment and when you think he’s going to move on, he just moves back to your other nipple again. He continues this pattern until you’re practically begging for more, writhing against him. The press of his leg between your thighs does almost nothing as you buck against the smooth fabric of his shorts fruitlessly. You’re sure you’ve soaked through your panties by now.

“You think I could make you come just from this?” He wonders briefly before taking your nipple back between his lips. It’s never happened before but you think he probably can, you can feel your pulse between your legs as you whine pathetically, fingers still curled in his hair. As much as you want him to move on, it feels so good you can’t bring yourself to pull him away. Your nipples are spit slick and red from the amount of time he’s spent against them and he’s showing no signs of stopping. His fingers pinch and pull at one as he suddenly sucks hard on the other.

“Tim!” You gasp, stiffening against him for a moment before your muscles go slack.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, letting out an incredulous laugh when he beams up at you.

“I didn’t know I could even do that,” you mumble, still shocked by the small orgasm, before pulling him up to kiss you again. He maneuvers you to his bed, letting you fall into the sheets gently before crawling on top of you. You spread your legs for him to slot his hips in, groaning when you feel how hard he is.

“Fuck me, please,” you whine and he laughs.

“That’s in inviting offer, eh?” He smirks, “but I’m not done yet.”

He sits up on his knees to work your skirt off your hips, tossing it to the side. He smoothes his hands across your skin, down your sides, squeezes your hips.

“So pretty,” he mumbles into your stomach, kissing a wet line down to your hipbone before sucking a mark there. He kisses across your skin along the band of your panties before sliding them down your legs.

“Look at you, soaked right through these, huh?” He looks proud and you blush.

“Get on with it,” you laugh, knocking your foot into his shoulder. The contrast of him being fully dressed while you’re bare is making you squirm even more than usual.

“I told you, I’m taking my time,” he reminds you, catching your foot. You groan as he presses a gentle kiss to your ankle before continuing up the inside of your leg. Just when you think he’s going to press kisses down the line of your other leg, he sucks your clit into his mouth and you nearly double over.

“Fuck, Tim!” you moan as he eats you out. He groans against you when he tastes your wetness, your hands finding their way to his hair at the sensation. You’re so wound up from earlier that you can’t help the way your fingers tighten in his hair. He moans at the feeling, pushing you almost to the edge. You’re just about to come when he pulls back, looking up at you mischievously. You groan, but he doesn’t leave you hanging for long. His fingers find your clit and your eyes roll back.

“Could Mikey make you feel like this?” He almost growls, fingers rubbing against you.

“W-what?” You try to claw your way out of the fog of arousal you’re in to figure out what he means. You finally remember, just as he presses his fingers into you, nearly making you forget again.

“I was just trying to rile you up,” you’re quick to tell him, “I don’t care about Mike, I just wanted you.”

His fingers curl inside you and it feels like forgiveness until he pulls away from you again. You let out a sob before he shushes you as he sits up.

“I’m just getting a condom,” he reassures you, reaching to rifle through the bedside drawer.

“Get naked,” you grumble, trying your best to yank off his shirt from under him. He snorts, throwing it off to the side and quickly shucking off the rest of his clothes before crawling back between your legs. You hold up the shiny wrapper you retrieved when he was busy like a prize, making him laugh. He moves to take it from you, ready to open it but you distract him, fingers trailing along his stomach. His breath hitches, muscles tightening as you reach the little trail of hair under his bellybutton.

“Fuck, I missed seeing you naked,” you groan, looking up at him through your eyelashes. As he looks into your eyes, you get to watch his face contort in surprised pleasure when you take his cock in hand and stroke. You know you have the upper hand, his dominant act crumbing apart now that you’re finally touching him.

You carefully rip the condom wrapper open with your teeth as his hands find your hips, sliding reverently up your soft skin to thumb at your nipples as you roll it onto his length. Once it’s on he pushes forward to rub his tip against your clit, making you gasp when his jewelry catches on it. You shift your hips against him, desperate to get him inside you, but he continues his teasing, rubbing against you until you can’t stand it anymore. He’s not expecting it, so he goes down easy when you push him onto his back next to you and straddle him. He whimpers as you sink down on him, the stretch making you groan happily. You start moving slowly, savoring the feeling of him being inside you again.

“Feels so good,” you moan as he hits a particularly deep spot. You start riding him in earnest when you can’t stand the slow pace any longer, his hands digging in to your waist as you bounce.

“So fucking pretty, baby,” Tim moans, staring up at you with rapt attention. He lets out a breathy moan when your hands move from where they were braced against his chest to play with his nipples. His fingers dig into your hips as he starts thrusting up into you, matching your pace. It’s been long enough since you’d gotten any action with Tim, much less been on top, and while your orgasm is approaching quickly, your thighs are giving out even quicker. You whimper as you try desperately to keep going, but Tim can tell your losing steam. He flips the both of you over easily, sliding back inside you right away. Your view from under him is perfect, his arms bulging as he leans down to take your nipple into his mouth again. They’re overly sensitive and the zing of pleasure goes straight down to your clit as he sucks. You’re gagging for it, so agonizingly close to coming but you can’t quite get there.

“Tim, please,” you whine, too far gone for anything more coherent as he fucks you into the mattress. He knows what you need though, reaching down to swirl circles against your clit.

“C’mon honey, you can do it, wanna feel you come,” he begs against your breast before suctioning his lips around your other nipple. It only takes a few more thrusts until you arch into him as you finally fall over the edge, pulsing around him as you come. He follows after you, hips stuttering into yours as he fills the condom. You’re both breathing heavy when he snuggles down on top of you, nuzzling into your neck happily.

“Missed this,” you smile, pressing kisses to wherever you can reach.

“Me too,” you can feel his smile against your skin. He moves to get up but you whine, holding him close to you.

“Stay inside, just a little longer,” you plead as he looks down at you fondly.

“Okay, but if we stay like this too long I might get hard again,” he admits sheepishly, settling back down against you.

“Good,” you smile, already dreaming about a sleepy round two.

Taglist; @stusdollface93

#tim laflour #tim laflour x reader #tim laflour imagine #senseless #senseless 1998

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retrobutterflies · 2 years

Text

Velvet Kisses | e.m.

Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: Your shitty job has you turning to your almost-boyfriend for help, making both of you admit the full extent of your feelings.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Slight Angst, Major Fluff, Semi-Established Relationship, A creepy man but nothing happens

A/N: This is my brain vomit.

There were few jobs in Hawkins that were desirable. Last year you worked at the 5 & 10 and your boss didn't understand that you couldn't work shifts before 3pm because of school so he fired you for showing up late to shifts you explicitly stated you couldn't work. Over the summer you were a camp counselor and had dealt with enough crying kids and kickballs to the face last you a lifetime. And your job at the minimart lasted all of three days before the former employee who you were replacing had come back begging for their job.

But working at the gas station had to be one of the better jobs you've had. It required little brain power, the most taxing job being wresting with the cash register that seemed like it was a hundred years old. Your boss was a kind man, paying you generously and forcing his son to drive you home at the end of your night shifts. And he even let you leave early if it was a particularly slow day.

That being said, you had never encountered so many walks of life as you had at your evening night shifts at Hawkins Oil. Young kids trying to see if you'd let them buy beer, raiding the snack aisle, and asking you strange probing questions like 'Have you ever been to Skull Rock?' Older patrons frequenting the back freezers and packs of cigarette lining the wall behind you. Some people asked for strangely specific amounts of gas to be put on their pumps and others counted their change down to the last cent as if you were planning on jipping them a nickel.

The worst, however, was the creepy men whose eyes lit up at a young girl working the night shifts. They would lean in close enough so you could smell the tobacco on their breath as they asked for a lighter or gum or whatever was behind the counter so you had to interact with them. And they would purposely brush your hand as they paid, making sure to ask you questions as you hurried through the sale as if it would prolong the conversation.

Your boss made sure to never have you working alone. Either him or his son would accompany you, staring down any strange man that tried anything. It was the reason you felt safe enough to work there. And you had never had any problems until today.

"I just need to leave ten minutes early. I'll do all the inventory and clean up. All you have to do is lock up once your shift is over." The owner's son Mikey was hard to say no to. His green eyes and swooping hair made him a complete sight for sore eyes and his continuous begging throughout the day about how important this date was tonight and how he couldn't be late or he'd never find true love made you acquiesce faster than you'd like to admit. And you wanted him to be happy you just didn't want to finish your shift alone.

"All the inventory?" you questioned as if you hadn't already made up your mind. His eyes lit up as he shook his head up and down.

"All of it. And you can leave ten minutes early on Monday," he added. You smiled. You were already going to say yes but you weren't going to argue with leaving early.

"Okay, fine. But you better fall in love," you said as he jumped up, scrambling to finish the inventory count so he could leave in twenty minutes.

"I'll tell this story at our wedding," he said, his grin highlighting his sharp cheekbones. You let out a laugh.

Twenty minutes came and went and soon enough Mikey was zipping out of there, his "See you next week!" fading until all you heard was the muted buzzing of the overhead fluorescent lights. You busied yourself with doodling on the discarded receipts, pen swirling in random patterns as you waited for the minutes to tick by. The ringing of the bell on the door had your eyes flickering up as a man wandered in. You didn't think much of it at first, continuing your aimless drawing as he meandered to the back freezer. But then he made his way up to the counter, making you jump as you noticed his proximity.

"That all?" you asked, straightening up as he placed the coke can on the counter.

"A pack of reds, too," he said after a moments hesitation. You nodded, turning behind you to grab the pack of Marlboro cigarettes. When you turned back, you couldn't help but notice the uncomfortable way his eyes lingered on you.

"That'll be $3.81." He nodded, pulled a five from his wallet, and slid it over the counter.

"You can keep the change," he said. You nodded, averting your eyes down to the cash register as you loaded in the bill. When he didn't leave, you glanced up at him feeling an uneasy prickling in the back of your neck at his stare.

"Do you need anything else, sir?" you asked. Maybe he was just tired. It was late and the sun had long set now, the only light illuminating the parking lot coming from the store.

"What time do you guys close?" he asked. It was an innocent question. Many people had asked you before and you didn't bat an eye. But there was something about this time, about him asking with his oddly piercing gaze that made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

"Ten." It was quiet for a moment, neither of you saying anything else before he nodded, gave you a smile, and headed out the door. You watched him walk into the parking lot. He turned around halfway, eyes staring back at you. He smiled, again, and you felt your gut twist more. Then he walked to his car.

You waited with bated breath, waited for him to start the ignition and pull out of the lot. But the seconds ticked by and he wasn't leaving. You counted to sixty, then sixty again. Still the car sat motionless, shrouded in the darkness of the corner of the parking lot that the storefront didn't illuminate. Why wasn't he leaving? Why was he just sitting there?

You looked up at the clock, watching the big hand tick to ten o'clock on the dot. A sudden rush of dread flushed through you. Mikey had been your ride. In his excitement, neither of you remembered that he was supposed to drive you home. Your home which sat on the other side of town. Even if you wanted to walk it would take you nearly an hour. And looking at the car quiet and unmoving in the empty parking lot made the idea of walking a fool's mission.

You hopped up quickly, heading to the door to flip the lock. Even closer up you couldn't see the driver's seat of the car. If you hadn't watched the man get into it you would've believed it was abandoned.

"Shit," you muttered.

You walked back to the counter, grabbing for the phone as your eyes kept glancing back at the car as if it was finally going to leave. You called your house phone close to seven times. You knew your parents were staying with your grandparents but your good for nothing sister was supposed to be home. She wasn't even supposed to have plans tonight so why wasn't she answering.

You felt near hysterical as the phone went unanswered for the eighth time. You slammed the phone down, sending every curse under the sun to your lousy useless car-wrecking sister who was the whole reason you didn't have a car in the first place.

The car was still there and you still didn't have any way to get home. But like hell were you sleeping in this place. You gnawed on your lip, weighing your options before his face popped into your head.

Eddie Munson. You squeezed your eyes shut, wracking your brain to try and remember the combination of numbers of his landline. You had called him two days ago. It was written on a pink post-it note taped on your mirror. You stared at it every time you did your makeup. Grabbing the pen, you flipped over an un-doodled receipt and quickly wrote down the numbers you remembered. Four . . . nine . . . three . . . Come on.

You and Eddie had started seeing each other maybe three weeks ago. You weren't exclusive and you had only gone on a handful of dates but you did call each other often. You knew his number was somewhere in your brain you just had to pry it out.

Minutes passed by and your hope was dwindling exponentially until like a light bulb the number appeared in your brain. You quickly scribbled it down before you forgot and picked up the phone, punching the numbers in.

The phone rang and you nervously tapped the pen in your hand on the counter as you waited for him to pick up.

"Hello?" You had never been happier to hear his gruff rumbly voice.

"Eddie!" you breathed, smile over taking your face. You heard movement on the other end before he responded.

"Hi Sweetheart. I was wondering if you'd call," he commented. You could hear the smile in his voice, imagining him leaning onto his counter, phone pressed to his cheek.

"I was gonna, when I got home. But I'm still at work," you said. He let out a hum.

"Still working? Did you miss me that much?" he let out a soft chuckle. You would've laughed if you weren't so on edge.

"You wish," you replied, a smile working it way onto your lips. Just the sound of Eddie's voice had your anxious nerves settling a bit. "Um, are you doing anything right now?"

"Burning some Spaghettio's. Was gonna play a little guitar but," he cleared his throat as if he was suddenly nervous. You heard movement again, "Was kinda waiting for your call. Didn't wanna miss it."

The thought of Eddie loitering around the kitchen, eyes watching the land line waiting for your call had your stomach doing somersaults. You had had a crush on Eddie for the better part of a year, hopelessly pining from a distance as your social groups were miles a part. He was always so vibrant and engaging and it was hard to miss him around school. His big brown eyes, wild hair, and general disregard for societal standards had you roped in immediately but the thought of him liking you was still a foreign concept.

When he had admitted that he had been crushing on you for years before you finally started talking because of a group project, you nearly called him out on what you thought was a blatant lie. And he was adamant that the minute he saw you, sparkling eyes and witty tongue, he was sold. But your relationship was still new, unlabelled and fresh that you struggled with what was appropriate to say or do. Was it too early to be calling him every night? Could you admit you missed him when he was away?

Sometimes, however, Eddie would say something so indulgently sweet that it took your breath away for a minute and had you bursting at the seems with affection.

"Eddie," you knew your eyes were rounding, bottom lip pushing out as you felt your chest squeeze in adoration, "That was really cute. I was looking forward to calling you all day." Your admission had him humming contentedly, his wide smile so evident in his tone.

"Yeah? I kinda wish I could've called you yesterday but duty calls or whatever bullshit," he sighed, referring to his band practice that seemed to go into the late hours of the night despite Gareth's mother's disproval.

"It's okay. I know you're a busy man," you said, tracing the side of the phone as you pictured Eddie's smile.

"Not too busy for you," he let out a sheepish laugh before adding, "You could probably convince me to cancel any plan I had. Just to see you."

You felt your heart flutter.

"Stop being cute. You're distracting me. I need to ask a favor," you said.

"Ask away. The answer is already yes," he replied, voice rumbling happily over the static. He was going to make you pass away.

"Do you think you could pick me up from work? My sister isn't answering," you admitted, voice growing softer. Your eyes flickered back to the parking lot, watching the car that still sat motionless.

"I thought that Mikey kid was your ride?" he asked. If he picked up on your unease he didn't comment on it.

"He was. We kinda forgot and he left early for a date," you explained. He hummed again and you heard movement and the jangling of keys making your stomach uncoil.

"You know, I could be your ride home from now on. So you don't have to rely on loverboy," his tone was slightly sharper as he referenced your coworker.

"He's usually reliable. He got caught up in the excitement–"

"And ditched you," he interjected, huffing at his annoyance.

"He didn't mean to. I'm not mad at him," you reassured.

"Right, no, s'okay. He works tomorrow though, right?"

"Eddie," you warned but he let out a laugh.

"I'm only kidding. Partially. I'm on my way, though, so hang tight, okay? I'll be there in like ten minutes max."

You let out a breath, nodding though he couldn't see you. When you said your goodbyes you tried to visualize what Eddie was doing to distract yourself from the foreboding silence of the empty store; door swinging shut, car beeping, keys ratting, ignition starting.

True to his word, not even seven minutes later Eddie's truck was peeling into the parking lot. You had never been so happy to see his wonky rusted old truck. You hopped up, grabbing your bag and hurrying to the door. The keys jangled loudly as you locked up behind you. As you turned around, you were distracted from Eddie's wide smile as the lights from that godforsaken car suddenly turned on. You froze, watching the red car pull out, pause, and then drive out of the parking lot.

You knew he had been waiting for you. Waiting to see when you were leaving, how you were getting home, but to see it be proven made you feel a little lightheaded. Your eyes met Eddie's as he glanced over his shoulder at the retreating headlights in the distance.

"Who was that? Not that sorry punk Mikey," Eddie asked as you hopped into the passenger seat, dropping your bag to your feet.

"No, he–" you took a sudden shuttering breath that had Eddie's mood dropping significantly, "He was a customer. And he was being weird and he's been sitting in his car for the past half hour probably waiting for me to leave."

You had never seen Eddie this angry. His joking tone before about being mad at Mikey suddenly transforming into hot anger at the idea that he had left you alone for some creep to stalk you like you were his prey.

"I'm picking you up from now on, okay? You tell that son of a bitch if he does anything other than grovel at your feet for forgiveness I'm paying him a visit," he seethed, hand flexing so his rings glinted in the muted lighting.

You turned in your seat to face him, cheek resting against the headrest as you gazed up at him. His eyes were hard, jaw clenched tight and brows furrowed. You reached out a hand to cup his cheek, thumb stroking the high of his cheekbone until his face relaxed. He turned to meet your eyes, his own softening at the look you were giving him.

"I'm okay. I have a baseball bat tucked under the counter as a last minute resort," you assured, voice soft and melodic as he leaned into your palm. His hand reached out to grab your free one, linking your fingers together and squeezing.

"I don't like you being scared," he admitted.

"My fear turns to rage pretty quickly under pressure," you hoped some humor would lighten the mood and he managed to crack a small smile at your comment.

"You'll call me if you ever need anything, right?"

"Of course," you said. His eyes trailed from your abused your bottom lip from worrying it between your teeth to the tension set in your jaw.

His free hand moved up to caress yours, holding it tighter to his cheek as his other softly stroked your palm.

"I'll never let anything bad happen to you, you know that, right?" he said, eyes burning into yours, tone soft but firm. You felt a swell of emotion in your chest. You nodded but he seemed adamant to continue, like you didn't grasp the seriousness of his words.

"I don't care if it's a paper cut or a spider or if the president himself was bothering you, I'll handle it. You call me and I'm there," he pressed, leaning in closer so you could smell his smoky cologne.

You nodded again but your throat suddenly felt tight and your eyes were prickling with moisture. He clocked the tears instantly and he was leaning in, lips pressing to your forehead, hand moving to the back of your neck, weaving his fingers into the hair at the base of your head. He massaged it gently, lips trailing kisses down your temple, to your cheeks, on your nose, and finally to your lips. You didn't realize tears had fallen until he was swiping them away with his thumb.

Your free hand clenched the front of his shirt, pulling him closer as he pressed soft, comforting, sweet kisses on your face. His hand scratched your head, fingertips swirling in hypnotic circles until he was pulling back and stroking the hair out of your face. His lips found yours again, pillowy soft and warm as if they were forcing you to relax. The tension slowly eased from your body until your head felt light and your mind gooey.

All at once you wanted to say those three sacred words. You wanted to spill all of your feelings and emotions and tell him you loved him until the sun came up. You wanted to drown in him, kiss him until you didn't know your own name anymore. And you wanted him to know you were completely and utterly sold on him. He had ruined anyone else for you.

"You wanna come to mine?" he asked, his voice close to a whisper, breath fanning over your face as you wilted at the loss of his lips. You nodded, still unsure if you could form proper words, your head spinning with thoughts of him kissing you over and over again.

The drive was quick, his right hand sandwiched between both of yours as you watched the trees whir past the window. He gave you a few sideways glances, feeling his anger at your air headed coworker swirling in his stomach. But every brush of you fingers over his tense knuckles had him deflating until he was solely focused on you and your perfume and your pretty glassy eyes.

You had been in Eddie's room multiple times but most of them were to work on that school project. Only one other time had you been here after you had both admitted your feelings. And suddenly stepping into the muted lighting, eyes trailing over the myriad of band posters, piles of records and cassettes, a mountain of laundry, and his messy unmade bed had a wave of nervousness washing over you. Eddie sheepishly pulled his comforter up, haphazardly pushing a few shirts and a few books to the ground, clearing the space.

"You want a change of clothes?" he asked, pausing his movements to look at you. You blinked at him, bag already discarded by the door and nodded. You probably looked great in the polo shirt and plain jeans that your boss had you and Mikey wear for "professionalism" even though it was a gas station.

You could tell the Metallica shirt he had handed you was old because it was soft and well-worn, a few holes decorating the collar. You pulled it over your head, the material caressing your sides. You pulled on the boxers after, an unused pair he said bought in the wrong size and left to reside in the bottom of his drawer. You timidly pushed out the bathroom door, glancing down the dark hallway to where Eddie's uncle was snoring loudly on the couch before heading back to Eddie's room.

Only the bedside lamp was on now casting sleepy shadows around the room. Eddie was resting against the headboard of his bed, legs laid out, his own sleep shirt adorning his torso, rings discarded on the bedside table. His eyes found your form as you shut the door behind you, trailing up and down your clothes, his clothes, draped over your body. He had never seen anyone look so good in a T-shirt before and frankly he didn't think he ever would again. You were otherworldly to him.

Hesitantly, you crawled onto the bed, mattress dipping under your knees as you got closer. His arms instantly encircled around you, pulling you flush against him giving you no time to hesitate. You melted into him, his scent overwhelming you and his warmth fighting back the chill of the room. He pulled the duvet over the both of you, shuffling you down until you were laying before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

"I was talking to Steve," he said breaking the silence, his voice rumbling into your neck making tingles run up your spine. Your arms wrapped around his torso, cheek pressing against his forehead, eyes fluttering shut as you waited for him to continue.

"He likes to give dating advice. Mostly unsolicited," he murmured, the vibrations tickling your skin. His hand trailed up your side until it found the side of your love handle peaking out from your shirt. His fingers grazed it, swirling around the velvety skin making you squirm slightly at the tickling sensation. You felt his grin.

"It's mostly all crap. All of his experience is from his shitty douchebag days. Probably why he goes on such shit dates." He pressed a kiss to your throat, his other arm tightening around your back to pull you impossibly closer. You felt your mind go gooey again at his affection.

"He did say though that," he paused and you felt him take a steadying breath, "if I waited any longer to ask you to be my girlfriend that you'd think I didn't like you anymore."

It took you a moment to move the thoughts around in your molasses mind before you processed his words.

"Which is ridiculous because even Dustin Henderson has known I've been in love with you for years," he added, fingers dipping under your shirt to draw shapes on the ridges of your ribs.

"What?" you whispered, eyes opening. His movements paused as if he himself just realized what he said. You felt him tense, hand pressing flat against your side as he let out a sigh. You pulled away from him slightly. You could tell the instant the rejection settled in his mind, his body growing tenser as he pulled back to meet your eyes. His eyes were dark, filled with hurt and worry. He tried to pull back more but your tight grip prevented him.

"You love me?" He was quiet for a moment, eyes flickering between both of yours weighing his options. You shuffled closer, grabbing his hand and placing it on your waist again, a silent command to keep drawing shapes. He softened, shifting closer as he shoved his insecurities to the back of his mind.

"If," he started, brown eyes flickering around your face, gaging every micro expression to make sure you weren't uncomfortable with his words, "If it doesn't scare you away, then yes."

He leaned in closer, breath fanning over your face, minty and cool. "If it does, then I have no idea what you're talking about." His hand squeezed your side making you let out a laugh, squirming again as a smile overtook your face. He stopped, eyes hooded as he gazed at you and your pretty smile and your warm eyes.

"Can you say it?" your voice was small, smile loosening until you were staring at him with big, vulnerable eyes. He knew then that you weren't scared. You weren't dismayed by his feelings. By the glint in your doe eyes and the way you melted at his affection, he knew you felt the same way.

"You need to answer my question first," he decided. Your brows pulled together slightly as you tried to remember what he was referring to. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your pouted lips as if he couldn't help himself. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

You felt your face flush and your pulse spike. You nodded, pressing closer hoping he would kiss you again.

"With words, baby," he insisted, hovering his lips over yours, hand moving up to stroke the swell of your cheek.

"Yes," you breathed, feeling like you might never stop blushing.

He finally leaned in and pressed a searing kiss to your lips.

"I love you," he said, hand stroking your hair back so he could kiss you deeply again and again and again, repeating the phrase between kisses like he couldn't get tired of saying it.

"I love you, too," you managed to say before he was covering your lips again, greedy for your attention.

You felt dizzy at the intensity, love drunk on Eddie and his velvet kisses and sugary words. You didn't care that it had only been three weeks and that an English project that you both barely managed to get a C on had been the catalyst. You had loved Eddie for a year and he had loved you for more and you'd be damned if you waited any longer to tell him you loved him over and over and over again.

Link to my masterlist :)

#eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x female!reader #eddie munson x y/n

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nothomegal · 7 months

Text

“The little owl family” (Part 5)

(RZ!Michael Myers x GNReader)

Summary: your and your little sister’s life had an 180° turn when your parents got into a severe car crash, dying on the spot. You, being already past 18 had to figure out how to keep things afloat and give yourself, specially your sister, a good future. And you did! It was hard but you did it and became the absolute hero in the little girl’s eyes. People would often involuntary smile at the dynamic of your two, so wholesome and supportive, the perfect family bond. Bond that a certain Boogeyman noticed as well…

Warnings: mentions of non-con touches towards (Y/N), (Y/N) being very hateful and angry with Mikey.

Word Count: 3.9k

Additional info: Gender Neutral reader. (S/N) = sister’s name.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 6)

The next two days were rough, it felt like walking on eggshells. No matter where the siblings went or what they did, Michael always was nearby, just watching them, observing each of their activities and interactions.

Monday was fun (not at all), (Y/N) had to call and invent some excuse about their sister being sick for a week since Michael made it clear that they're not going anywhere for now, how you may ask? Easy, taking away the car keys right under their nose and seeing if they got the balls to get them back. (Y/N) was beyond pissed, but had to keep their frustration to themselves since there is little they can do about it, not without losing or breaking another limb in the process.

(S/N) wasn't even excited about not going at school, it's obvious that the little girl was uncomfortable with the precense of some big scary man, a big scary man who often holds a knife.

Oh, the knife. That stupid knife that (Y/N) often felt poking their sides or slide along their back and other parts that should not be touched by strangers. These unwelcomed 'knife touches' would usually happen when the man holding the weapon wanted more food, or simply because... Because he could, because he knows they won't do anything to stop him, because he wants to explore their body, see how it reacts to the cool blade gently sliding along their warm skin... At least Myers kept his part of the agreement and would do this only when (S/N) is not present, detail that lead the older sibling to believe that he has some very shady intentions towards them...

That disgusting son of a bitch.

Sleeping also became a problem, for the last night Michael would show up after midnight and just… Watch. It made (Y/N) super uncomfortable, they attempted to come to some agreement but all they got as an answer is a head tilt. The last straw was when (S/N) broke down in tears at the morning, confessing how much she hated when he is there and how scary it was. So (Y/N), like the older protective sibling they are, came up with a solution…

. . .

Staring, it became their unofficial language. (Y/N) was currently sitting on the ground with a kitchen knife tightly clutched in their hand. They're sitting right next to their sister’s room door, who by this time was sleeping soundly in her bed, completely unaware that her sibling is at the other side of the door, guarding it like a police dog and making sure that the monster doesn't disturb her innocent mind any further. Michael, of course, was there as well, staring back at (Y/N) from the darkest part of the corridor.

(Y/N) was no longer afraid, no longer fearful for their life, now they were just annoyed, angry, furious at the masked man. The audacity, the audacity of this bastard to just appear out of nowhere and ruin their simple and peaceful life with his presence, being this giant shadow that has no respect for (Y/N)'s boundaries and patience, testing them constantly, seeing how long they can handle before snapping and inevitably dying by his hand. They hated him, hated with a burning passion, they wanted to hurt him, stab him with everything in the house, lock him up back in the asylum, make him crawl back into the place in hell he came from…

The more their mind filled with such violent thoughts, the more their face changed into a sulk; brows deeply furrowed, jaw clutched tightly, eyes glued to his large form, pupils shrunken… Every single hint of disgust and unlikeness were reflected in their expression, in their gaze… But it didn’t affect Michael, not at all.

Or at least… They didn’t know it did.

The man stared back at (Y/N) nearly as intensely as they did, but unlike them, he wasn't feeling hate or anger, but a desire, desire for something. He still has to figure out what's that feeling is, which is constantly burning him from the inside, luring him closer and closer to them, demanding him to touch them, feel their body against his calloused hands and not the knife's blade, feel the way their chest raises and falls with each breath, feel their pulse move with each heartbeat... Look into their eyes... He wanted to stare into those eyes for an eternity, feel the heat of their anger burn his skin, scratch it with cold glances and then softly caress it with their warmth...

Warmth...

Even though Michael adored the thrill that (Y/N)'s furious gaze causes in him, sometimes... He wished he could experience their soft and loving gaze, the one they always gift their sister with. The way their face lights as they look at the little one, a soft warm smile appearing on their lips as a light gentle blush spreads on their cheeks. When (Y/N) has these eyes... They look so peaceful, so... He can't even describe it, but it somehow puts his mind on ease as well, making him feel like everything in the world is alright, like everything will be alright.

Sigh... But these are only wishes, something he had plenty of over the years. He wished for his mother to be home more often, a normal happy family, a good childhood, see his little sister and attempt to make their reunion right... He wished for so many things, yet none of them became true, so this one won't neither...

He will never experience these warm and loving eyes...

Never... Neither from (Y/N)... Or (S/N), who's still avoiding him and shying away in his presence, as if running away from a monster...

. . .

—"{Fuck...}"— you cuss under your breath as you look at the nearly empty fridge.

—"It's okay (Y/N), we can just go to the store and buy more!"— (S/N) says with an excited and innocent tone.

But in a second, her expression changed into a fearful one as she steps back. That's when (Y/N) feels a large hand grasp them by their arm, a bit roughly, which meant that Michael wanted their attention inmediatly.

They swallow thickly but mantain their composure. With their hand (Y/N) motions to their sister to go into her room, order that the little girl listens without a fuss and nearly trips as she runs away from the kitchen. Ones left alone, (Y/N) turns towards the large man while sighing shakily.

—"Okay, so-"—

They have no time to finish when their car keys were handed (thrown) to them. (Y/N) blinks a couple of times as they process what happened, huh... Well it was easy.

—"Oh..."— you slowly lift your gaze at his emotionless mask, your gaze distrustful, expecting some sort of trick. —"So... Am I really allowed to go?"—

No answer or movement, only an intensive stare. They sigh shakily again as they hide the keys in their pocket.

—"Can I take (S/N) as well?... She hasn't left the house for a whil- "—

Their form is suddenly pushed back against the fridge, their back pressed against the cold surface while a single large hand is holding them by the throat in place, firmly but not chocking.

He then slowly brings his knife up and simply points at them with the blade, it wasn't a threatning gesture, in Michael's terms, just a simple act to get a message across...

That they are going alone.

(Y/N)'s mouth gapes as their expression morph into a shocked and disgusted one, is he really planning to stay all alone with their little sister?!

—"You sick fuck, the hell you want to do to my si-"—

He suddenly shakes his head, not a little subtle jerk but an actual shake, probably realizing how bad and shady his intentions have looked from (Y/N)'s perspective.

(Y/N) let's out another sigh, trying to calm their temper and anxiety down, they really don't want to leave (S/N) all by herself with this maniac, but at the same time they really need food and other supplies. Reslizing that there is really no other way, at least not without ending up hurt, they groan both annoyed and frustrated at how helpless and useless they are.

—"Fine! I'll go alone... But... But let me warn my sister first, please."— you look into his mask's eye sockets as you plead, your own gaze less harsh, almost vulnerable.

They can feel his fingers twitch against their neck when they lock eyes, action that caught their breath and made body stiff. They can hear Michael's breathing get heavier again as they keep gazing at each other, yet their calm and pleading expression still not changing, hoping that this could somehow calm whatever is going on inside of his mind, hope he shows mercy... However, they do end up flinching when the man began to lean closer to their face, so close that they could nearly see his eyes, his real eyes, through the empty eye holes of the mask.

At the sight of his icy blue eyes stare back at them, (Y/N) freezes as an odd spine chill jolts through them, an electrifying feeling that made them both hot and cold at the same time. Oddly enough, they weren't afraid of his gaze... His emotionless yet intense gaze, like that of a wild hungry animal...

They remain like this for a while, their faces only inches away from each other. But when Michael attempted to move even closer and press his body agains (Y/N)'s, they finally snap of this strange trance and stop him by putting their hands against his solid chest.

—"S-Stop, this... This is too close."— you say, your tone a tag defensive.

Michael remains still, they could swear his eyes darkened by the regection, yet he doesn't push further and eventually let's go of their neck and steps back. It takes a second for them to regain their previous composure and focus, but thankfully they manage to.

—"I... I'll go tell (S/N)."— you grumble as you hurriedly make your way out of there.

. . .

—"Y-You're leaving me alone?... With the monster?"— (S/N) says shakily as she clings to your clothes and being on a verge of tears.

—"I'm sorry, songbird. I'm really sorry. But I promise I'll be back soon, you'll be okay, I know you will."— you hug her back tightly, also being quite emotional due to your own fear and worry.

—"But... B-But what if he-"—

—"He won't. He won't hurt you, he promi-"—

—"But he hurts you, (Y/N)!"— she exclaims, both angry and pained.

—"What?... No, no he doesn't, look, I'm fine."—

—"No you're not! I know he does something to you when you're alone and I can see that, you always look so hurt and angry and... Sad... You always so sad whenever he's around."— she looks at you as she grips your clothes tighter. —"I... I don't want him to make me sad too... I- I don't want to see you like this anymore, I want the old us back, when we were happy!"—

These words broke (Y/N)'s heart completely. Despite their efforts to keep everything cool and away from (S/N), the little girl proved that they didn't do a great job and how truly affected she is. However, they don't give up against their emotions and with a huff they hug their sister tightly again.

—"We will return to normal. As I said, I'll figure this out."— you look at her and your gaze softens a bit. —"When mom and dad were gone, I had to figure out many things at ones too, and as you can see, I did it. So why whouldn't I be able now?"—

The girl falls silent, thinking and unsure of what to say.

—"I know it's hard, I know you hate to see me cry, but I'll get us through this and soon I'll be the good old smily (Y/N) you know. Just be patient and remain strong, okay? Do that for me."— you smile at her as you take her hand into yours.

Both siblings lock eyes and another wave of silence came, but this time it was (S/N) who broke it by suddenly wrapping their arms around her sibling.

—"You're right! I must remain as strong as you!"— she confidentaly huffs. —"And- And I'll help you figure out things! Like our escape plan!"—

(Y/N) merely chuckled, already knowing that the 'plan' will be some sort of impossible and childish idea, but they'll give (S/N) an A for the attempt and effort. Ones made sure their sister was okay, they prepare to leave, but not before reminding the little girl to not come out her room until they return, order that she promised to follow.

When they exit into the hall, and to no one's surprise, Michael was standing right there, staring at their form. (Y/N) returns the stare for a moment, but instead of glaring daggers at the man, they simply scoff as they brush past him with a pitty gleam on their eyes.

Tsk, they are sad? Just look at him! Always trying to insert himself and be part of their every single interaction... That is sad...

Actually sad...

(Y/N) glances back before going through the front door, well aware that Michael followed them, he always does... The two lock eyes, though (Y/N)'s expression was hard to decipher.

—"I'll be back in a little while, you... Well, you already know your part of the deal."— you give a little shrug and finally exit the house.

When their car left, Michael remained in place next to the window, just staring and watching. Though (Y/N) said more than ones that he's allowed to do whatever, he doesn't really feel like doing anything. Sure, he can take a book, watch TV, eat one of (S/N)'s sweets... But... It doesn't feel as special as when (Y/N) is around, and their sister definetely won't appreciate the last one.

The sound of little and hurried footsteps got his attention, yet he made no movements, already knowing who it is. He could hear some little grunts and huffs come from the kitchen, as if the girl is struggling with something. He allows it to continue for a little while but eventually makes his way to the kitchen, both curious to see what (S/N) is up to and to make sure she doesn't do anything silly, after all, kids aren't the most brilliant most of the time.

When Michael entered the kitchen, he was met with (S/N) attempring to get something from the upper shelf. She was holding her dino-grabber toy, using it to get whatever item she so desperately wanted, which would slip away and further into the shelf with each grab.

—"Come ooon, you 'dingus' thing."— she groans under her breath, probably not even knowing what 'disgus' means.

Michael silently observes the girl, she was so concentrated in her little mission that she didn't even notice him get progressively closer until standing right behind her.

When the item slipped so far that she couldn't even grab it with the toy, she lets out a frustrated groan and was about to climb the counter, but instead lets out a squeak when suddenly a large arm appeared above her. (S/N) instinctively backs away and presses herself into the kitchen counter as she shields herself with the toy.

—"S-Sorry! I'm so sorry for disturbing you! I- I got hungry and- a-and wanted to grab a poptart!"— she hurriedly says as she squeezes her eyes shut, as if expecting some severe punishment.

However, all she hears is faint rattle of something inside of a container and then a low grunt. She opens one eye and is met with Michael holding the whole box of poptarts in his hand and extending it towards her. A sense of dejavu invaded (S/N), flashbacks of their first meeting flashed before her eyes and the same sense of dread and danger formed inside of her, but this time she won't run away. She promised (Y/N) to stay strong, she will simply grab the stupid dessert and angrily look at him, just like (Y/N) always does!

But when she reached out and looked up at his masked face, her bravery dissolved like sugar in water. Michael just looks so big and intimidating all of the sudden-... His figure resembling so much the monster a child would imagine hidding in their closet. But still, the girl manages to tame her fears and take the box with her shaky hands.

—"I..."— she shrinks a bit. —"Thank you!"— she hurriedly exclaims before making a run out of the kitchen.

Michael merely looks at her direction, though he felt a small disappointment that the little girl was still so afraid of him, he can't really blame her or do anything about it, anything but to be grateful for this little interaction.

However...

—"Psst..."—

He only tilts his head at the little noise and (S/N)'s figure peeking out from the doorway.

—"Humm..."— she hesitates to speak at first. —"Do... Do you promise not to tell (Y/N) I left my room? They'll give me the scold of my life if they find out!"—

The man remains still for a little while, but eventually breaks his stillness with a little nod.

—"So is that a promise?"—

Another nod, which caused (S/N) to smile.

—"Thank you. Hey, we're almost like partners in crime! Doing forbiden stuff and then covering each other's back!"— she giggles at the thought and runs away into her room right after.

And ones again, Michael was left alone, but his time he was left with a warm feeling that made his chest feel both light and on ease. He's not sure what this emotion is, but he remembers feeling it in his childhood sometimes, mainly when he managed to make Angel smile with his own childish shenanigans, he always felt like a hero back then.

Now... It's hard to call him a hero, a monster or devil are more suitable names, but right now, for ones and after a long long time...

He didn't feel like one...

. . .

The rest of the day went like many previous ones (Y/N) returned, they nearly cried of relief that (S/N) was okay and wasn't hurt. And just like promised, no one told them about the little interaction the girl and the man had.

After the 'story-time session' ended and the little girl was asleep, (Y/N) returned to their usual spot next to their sister's room, though to their surprise, Michael wasn't in the hall waiting for them like he usually does... Nevertheless, that didn't stop them from taking their spot and wait, they knew he would come, he always does...

At this point they have no clue what his motives are, this doesn't seem like a simple paranoia of them contacting the authorities anymore, or a simple desire to be a jerk. Whatever enmity is going between them is something deeper, something more personal and sick, it's like this man is obsessed with them, but what kind of obsession? They don't know... And maybe don't want to know...

Eventually, the masked man does return to his spot but was met with a completely different scene. Yes, (Y/N) was there, but so was (S/N), who's gently putting a warm fluffly dinosaur blanket ot her sibling's sleeping form, doing her best to make it as cozy as possible. The little girl had a concerned expression, she knew that (Y/N) had barely slept due to the fear and worry of Michael doing something to her, the dark circles and the pale tone on their face only proving the unhealthy and tired state of her sibling.

It's a miracle that the girl didn't scream at the sight of Michael's giant figure and white mask staring at her from the dark, most likely the head tilt gave his identity away.

—"{S-Sorry.}"— she whispers, shifting from foot to foot with a guilty expression. —"{I know it's past my bed time, but I swear I can't fall asleep no matter how hard I try! I wanted to ask (Y/N) if we could watch something on their computer but...}"— she glances at your sleeping form.

Michael makes no movements, he's not quite sure why the girl is explaining herself to him, it's not like he will scold her, quite the opposite, it's really loable of her to take care of her sibling no matter what.

(S/N) then glances at the man, again hesitating to speak.

—"{Huummm... Do you just stay and stand there every night?}"—

Michael doesn't move at first, but then gives a little nod.

—"{All night?}"—

Another nod.

—"{Do you even sleep?}"— she furrows her brows a bit.

This time there is no answer.

The girl frowns a bit, sure Michael looks and acts freaky, but at the same time she feels sorry for him, something about his behavior is so sad and... Miserable. Is this why he's always tailing behind (Y/N)? Because they manage to make him feel happy and safe like they do with her? Or maybe because he wants to remember and feel how it's like to have an awesome and loving sibling? Or... Maybe he is just a big evil jerk that want's to do something bad to them... There's only one way to find out which one is the case...

—"{Michael?}"—

He tilts his head.

—"{Do... Do you... Do you want to hurt (Y/N)?}"—

A heavy silence falls upon them, even Michael's breathing was inaudible. (S/N) couldn't tell what's going on inside of his mind. Is he thinking? Is he annoyed? Waiting for her to drop the question or ask something else? Due to the lack of reaction, the girl starts to hesitate about her question and if she even wants to know the answer, what if he says 'yes' and kills both of them? (Y/N) said how cruel Michael can be, so sure he won't hesitate to hurt them.

Eventually, she recieves her answer; a shake of his head.

Relief flushes through (S/N), though that answer sparked another question...

—"{Then... Then why do you always follow them?... Do you feel... Lonely?}"—

Another wave of silence, but this one is less heavy since Michael wasn't staring directly at her form, but at the floor instead. The subtle tilt of his head was enough to hint the deep thinking going in his mind. And is right, Michael is thinking quite a lot. He stopped bothering to understand his obsession with (Y/N) and wouldn't think too much about following them, he just did it. But now... Now that he's forced to think about it for the first time, he realized it no longer feels like part of his unholy fixation on them, it feels more... He's not sure, but when he's with them he feels...

He nods slowly, his shoulders slump a bit after that.

(S/N) frowns sadly, her childish innocent mind quickly forgetting the things this man commited, maybe he isn't that bad, after all, (Y/N) told her how hard and unfair life was towards Michael, so... Maybe, if (Y/N) and her are kinder to him, maybe, just maybe, he'll be kinder to them too?...

—"{Michael...}"— she quietly says as she begin to walk towards him.

The girl stops right in front of his tall frame, the man tilts his head when she motions him to crouch down, but eventually he does. That's when, and without any warning, (S/N) wraps her arms around his neck, giving him a tight hug. The sudden contact made the man freeze completely, but he makes no effort to push the girl away. After a couple of solid minutes, his body starts to relax as he gives in into the little yet affectionate embrace.

The girl then leans closer to his ear, well, his mask's ear, but he sure heard her whisper...

—"{It's okay... I can be your friend.}"—

#nothomegal fic #michael myers #rz michael myers #rz michael myers x reader #michael myers x reader #slasher x reader #gn reader #halloween

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travlersjoy444 · 1 year

Text

2012 Raph x reader Incorrect Quotes

Uhm...mostly, that is. There's a few that are just random TMNT 2012 incorrect quotes. This was very fun for me. Might do it again sometime if the mood strikes.

***

(Y/N), skipping rocks on a lake with Raph: It’s such a beautiful evening.

Raph: Yeah, it is.

Raph: *whispering* Take that you fucking lake.

***

(Y/N): Why does Leo always do the laundry so loudly?

Raph: So everyone knows that no one helps them out in the house.

Leo, in the distance: *slams the washing machine shut*

***

Raph: You’re giving me a sticker?

Mikey: Not just a sticker. That is a sticker of a kitty saying “me-wow!”

Raph: I’m not a preschooler.

Mikey: Fine, I’ll take it back-

Raph: I earned this, back off.

***

Raph: Why am I always the bad guy?

(Y/N): Well, why am I the pretty one? We all have our thing.

***

(Y/N): Is Raph always like this when they lose?

Mikey: Oh, yes. You should've been there for the fabled 'Great Jenga Tantrum'.

Raph: yOU BUMPED THAT TABLE AND YOU KNOW IT!

***

(Y/N): Hey, wanna help me commit arson?

Leo: What the hell!?

(Y/N): Oh, sorry, my bad.

(Y/N), whispering: Wanna help me commit arson?

Leo, whispering: Of course. What do you need?

***

Casey: You know what bothers me? Bats. Why can bats fly?

Raph: Not again...

Casey: No. Seriously, who gave them the right? They're mammals! Mammals walk on land, no exceptions.

(Y/N): Just wait until you hear about whales.

Casey: What now?

***

Casey on Monday: *glues a dime to the sidewalk* Heh heh heh.

Casey on Wednesday: *walking down the street* Ooh hey! A dime!

***

(Y/N): When I met you I thought you were a real bitch.

Raph: What changed your mind?

(Y/N): Oh, I still think you’re a bitch, I’ve just grown to like that about you.

***

Leo: When I said you should try being friendlier this isn't what I meant.

Raph, stirring a cup of tea aggressively: Oh, so now I'm TOO friendly? There's no pleasing you.

(Y/N), who broke into their house an hour ago: Two sugars please.

Raph: Coming right up.

***

Casey: It’s funny how well you and Raph get along. Didn’t they hate you at first?

(Y/N): Raph hates everybody at first. It’s their way of reaching out to people.

***

Casey: We can bake these cookies at 400 degrees for 10 minutes or 4,000 degrees for 1 minute.

Donnie: No, that's not how you make cookies.

(Y/N): FLOOR IT!!

Casey: How about 4,000,000 degrees for 1 second?!?

Donnie: yOU'RE GONNA BURN THE HOUSE DOWN-

Casey: I'M GONNA HARNESS THE POWER OF THE FUCKING SUN TO MAKE COOKIES!

Raph: DO IT!

Donnie: NO-

***

Raph: What the fuck? People actually tell their crushes they like them??

(Y/N): What the hell do you do?

Raph: I die? What kinda question…

***

(Y/N): I made this friendship bracelet for you.

Raph: You know, I’m not really a jewelry person.

(Y/N): You don’t have to wear…

Raph: No, I’m gonna wear it forever. Back off.

***

Raph: *sneaking in through their window*

Leo: *turning in their chair and flicking the light one* You want to tell me where you've been all night?

Raph: I was with (Y/N)?

(Y/N): *turning in their chair* Wanna try again?

***

Raph, at (Y/N)'s funeral: I need a moment with them.

Everyone: Of course. *They leave*

Raph, leaning over (Y/N)′s coffin: Okay, listen here you little shit. I know you’re not dead.

(Y/N): Yeah, no shit.

***

Raph: (Y/N), I don't like you.

(Y/N): What did you say?

Raph: You heard me!

(Y/N), internally: And it turns out I actually didn't hear what the fuck you just said.

***

*(Y/N) sneezes*

Raph: (Y/N), are you sick? Here, let me wrap you in a blanket and hand-feed you some warm soup while singing you a lullaby!

*Donnie sneezes*

Raph: Oh my god. Shut the hell up.

***

(Y/N): Okay, but what if we went to dinner not as friends this time?

Raph: ...So...as enemies??

(Y/N):

***

Raph: WHOEVER CAUSED THIS MESS IS GOING TO-

(Y/N): It was me...

Raph: ...Is going to be forgiven because everyone deserves a second chance.

***

Kidnapper: I have your partner.

(Y/N): What? I don't have a partner...

Kidnapper: Then who just called me a lowlife bitch and spit in my face?

(Y/N): Oh my god, you have Raph.

***

Raph: I want to kiss you.

(Y/N), not paying attention: What?

Raph: I said if you die, I won't miss you.

***

*(Y/N) is crying after a breakup*

Raph: There there, (Y/N).

(Y/N), still crying: Thanks, but how did you get into my room?

Raph: Great question—

***

Raph: *yawns*

(Y/N): Yeah, being that pretty must be tiring.

Raph: Then you must be exhausted.

Leo: Will you two shut up? Some of us are lonely.

***

Raph: Watcha doin?

(Y/N): Stealing my neighbour’s cat.

Raph: Scandalous.

Raph: Can I help?

***

(Y/N): Come on, Leo. Nobody actually believes that Raph is in love with me.

Leo, to The Squad: Raise your hand if you think that Raph is helplessly in love with (Y/N).

*Everyone raises their hand*

(Y/N): Raph, put your hand down.

***

(Y/N): Someone take me to art museums and make out with me.

Raph: But they said not to touch the masterpieces.

(Y/N): Well somebody's got to pin the artwork to the wall.

Leo, on a walkie talkie: This is Leo, those idiots are fucking around in the East wing again.

***

Mikey: I dare you to kiss the next person who walks into this room.

Raph: Screw that, I’m not kissing anyone.

*(Y/N) walks in*

Raph: Fine, I’ll do it. Rules are rules you know.

***

Raph: If you want my advice-

Donnie: No offense but you’re the last person I want relationship advice from. You tried to kill your significant other. Multiple times.

Raph: First off, that was before we started dating. Secondly, they’ve also tried to kill me.

(Y/N): It’s true. It was mutually attempted murder.

***

Casey: Time sensitive question how flirt boy.

Raph: Throw rocks at he.

Mikey: Hot Dogs.

(Y/N): Kill him.

Casey: Thanks guys.

***

Leo: Why do you look like that?

Raph, laying face-first on the floor: Like what?

Leo: Like you’re dead.

Raph: It’s because I’m dying. Fuck off.

Casey: Raph accidentally called (Y/N) “babe” in front of everyone today.

Raph: *sobs into the floor*

***

(Y/N): I'm so happy, I could kiss you!

Raph: Um...Neat.

*later*

Raph, lying face down on their bed: I said "Neat," Donnie. Who the fuck says neat these days?

It's not neat to say neat but I said it anyways because I'm fucking stupid.

Donnie, reading a book: Don't beat yourself up too much, Raph. Everyone gets nervous sometimes. Remember what I did when Casey confessed their love for me?

Raph: Didn't you thank them?

Donnie: *closes the book and looks at the ceiling* I fucking thanked them.

***

(Y/N): How would you like your coffee?

Raph: As dark as my soul.

(Y/N): Got it, one cup of milk coming right up!

***

(Y/N): Raph, I need some advice.

Raph: You need advice from ME?

(Y/N): Yeah, frightening, isn't it?

***

(Y/N): *sighs* I have no friends...

Raph:

Raph: *coughs* Bitch, what am I? A roach?!

***

Leo: You need to stop swearing so much.

Raph: Shut the fuck up.

Leo: Yeah, that's not how you do it.

Raph: Alright sorry. It's just that it's hard not to swear. The words just creep up on me when I least expect it.

Leo: Now now, don't be like that. Just replace the swear words with 'beep' and you'll be fine.

Raph: Shit the beep up.

Leo:

Raph: SHUT, DAMMIT! I MEANT SHUT!

***

Raph: *is throwing stones at (Y/N)'s window*

(Y/N): You have a phone for a reason, Raph!

*THUD*

(Y/N): DID YOU JUST THROW YOUR PHONE AT MY WINDOW?!

#tmnt x reader #tmnt 2012 x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #tmnt raph x reader #tmnt 2012 raph x reader #raph x reader #tmnt 2012 raph #2k12 raph x reader #2k12 raph

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yorshie · 11 months

Text

Appy Slices: No Nose Zone

Bayverse turtles x femreader (No Y/N)

Warning/Summary: It's the weekend after Romeo left, surely everything's calmed down by now, right? SFW (short Leo POV for comedy sake)

Appy Slices Part Two Let's GO!

aged up turtles (22 ish)

By Monday, you figured all your turtle related problems were over. Sure, things had been a little weird all weekend after movie night, but you figured with Romeo gone things would go back to normal by the next time you saw them.

The turtles responded happily enough to your texts after the tortoise went home with his mother, and your quick text informing them of his departure was the equivalent to opening the floodgates on their affection and attention.

Throughout the week, Raph sent you texts while you were walking to and from work, vigilant about making sure you weren’t followed and nagging about keeping an eye on your surroundings. Mikey left you a dozen or more funny video links everyday for you to enjoy on your breaks and in-between bites of your lunch. Donnie programed your phone so whenever you opened it on the subway ride home it went straight to a new playlist he had put together for you. Even Leo left you a voicemail every morning, at a calculated time when you couldn’t pick up, just letting you know he hoped you had a good day.

So by the time Friday rolled around again and you were heading down to the Lair, six or so pizza boxes in your hands, you weren’t expecting any hiccups in the ‘let’s just all forget about cranky, territorial turtles’ plan.

That was, until Michelangelo met you at the door, arms open wide to give you his customary welcome hug. You dropped the boxes on the table, squealed with glee and jumped for him. He caught you as he always did, swung you around in an arc before he pulled his head sharply away and gagged.

He set you down quickly, face falling into a mask that you had never seen on him before.

“Angelo?” You asked, confusion and worry bleeding into your tone.

“Wow, Babes.” He wrinkled his nose, arms coming up to hold you decidedly away from him. “You uh… you reek.”

You froze, fought the urge to openly sniff yourself. “I-smell?”

He nodded, rubbing his hands up and down your arms in what you hoped he meant as soothing, because his grip was just a shy tick too strong. “Yea, you-”

“Hey, princess, you got the pizza!” Raph walked in from his weight room, towel over his wide shoulders and a grin pulling his lips. He went to take you from Mikey, and you went willingly, hopeful that you’d get your turtle cuddles.

His head dipped into the slot where your neck met your shoulder while your arms looped over his neck, silently asking to be picked up, and he went rigid.

You heard him give a loud snort, the sound barreling through his chest under your face, and he all but shoved you away, blinking rapidly and lip curling. “Oh, not this shit again.”

“What shit?!” The words popped out with a squeak, your shoulders up, blocking your neck. You stared up at him, eyes wide and questioning.

Mikey caught your elbow, fingers warm and firm, coaxing you into half facing him again. “C’mon, babes, let’s get you a shower, then-”

You heard his words while taking a few steps in the direction he was corralling you, brows lowering as you processed what he wanted. Your knees locked, and you rocked away from his gentle pull.

“I don’t need a shower, Mikey.”

“Yes, yes you do.” There was a large hand on the small of your back, but you stayed firm against Raph’s push, a little bubble of anger starting to manifest in your gut.

“Stop being pushy.” You ordered, about to turn back to fix Raph with a scowl, but a quick hiss of an aerosol can brought you up short.

Your gaze latched onto Mikey’s wide eyes, impossibly blue as you watched him process the flash of emotion on your face at the sound, before you rolled your head to the side and spied the can of Febreeze in Raph’s hand.

“Raph.” You asked, quiet, calm. “Did you just-”

He sprayed the can again, in a sweeping motion, hitting you from mid thigh to shoulders.

————————

In the Dojo, Leo’s head whipped around in alarm at a faint screech, arms moving to brace his weight forward, up and out of the Lotus position he had just settled into. The feminine sound tunneled through the Lair again, and he was up, moving, his heart a sudden spiky thump of terror under his ribs.

He barreled through the Dojo door and into the main room, barely a pause to catalogue the interior, before a scuffle by the entrance to the bathrooms caught his eye and he focused on it.

That terror in his chest bloomed into relief, morphed into confusion, then finally settled into irritation, and with a sharp huff and a shake of his head, he started for the squabble.

Raphael and Michelangelo were trying to wrestle you through the bathroom door. Raph had his arms looped under your own, one large hand tucked behind your head in a hold just tight enough to stop you from slipping free, other hand belted around your middle and lifting you up into the air. One of your hands was clenched tight around the heavy metal door frame, one leg braced on the other side of the opening. Mikey had both hands occupied trying to bend your leg up and off while keeping ahold of the other.

The whole time, you were screeching at the top of your lungs, only stopping to gather more breath, voice cracking at the beginning and end of each noise. With each belt of sound Leo flinched, his head ringing, heart quickening despite the fact that he could clearly see you were not in danger.

His brothers, on the other hand-

Leo breathed in deeply, sucking in the air to bellow, when he heard Mikey shout incredulously, your foot breaking free and crashing into his chest before he could re-snag it:

“Where does all this anger come from!? Where does she store it?!”

—————————

“What the hell are you two doing?”

You hiccuped at the sound, the sharp bark of clipped words, screech cutting off mid belt as Leo intervened.

Raph and Mikey froze, caught red handed, before Raph seemed to recover, swinging you around and away from the door, all but shoving you under Leo’s nose. “Smell.”

“What?” Leo hissed, eyes narrowing, chin jutting forward, patented ‘big brother ire’ coming out strong.

“She stinks.” Raph growled over your head, as if it made sense, “like that stupid tortoise.”

“What?” You squawked at the same time Leo repeated the word, your anger building even as his snout arced down, burying into your hair. Your free hand came up to shove him away, but he moved just as you made contact, his whole face curling up as if he’d sucked on a lemon.

“I do not smell!” You shouted it with a renewed wiggle, going limp in Raph’s hold in an effort to slip from his grip.

“Yea, you do babe.” Mikey interjected, hugging both your legs to his chest.

“Just, put her down.” Leo said, flexing his face muscles, tying to relax around the offensive smell.

Slowly, Raph and Mikey released you, and you wasted no time stepping outside their grabbing range, skirting around Leo until you had the eldest brother between you and them.

“Mikey, go get whatever you think would fit.” Leo said, voice low, and you peeked around the edge of his shell to frown up at him. “Raph, go-” He lifted an arm, peered down at you before focusing on his Red banded brother again. “Go get the secret weapon.”

“Secret weapon?” You asked, annoyed and more than a little suspicious. “Leo? What secret weapon?”

He didn’t answer, but he did let you grab at the sides of his shell, edge him sideways to keep him in front of you as both Raph and Mikey slid past. You tried to follow where Raph was going, but Leo took another snorting breath, shaking his head as though to get rid of a bothersome insect.

“I really smell?” You asked, voice small, shoulders curving inwards when he didn’t deny it.

“Hey, it’s ok. We’ll fix this.” He said, raising his brow ridges and tilting his head in an effort to see you, since you had yet to move out from behind him.

“Or, and this is just a suggestion, but you could all kindly get over yourselves.” You put some sarcasm into the words, backed it up with a solid push against his carapace, and he swayed forward just enough to not jar your elbows.

“Hm…” He quirked a corner of his mouth. “Tempting.” He raised an arm, and you retreated further behind him. “Hey? Why am I being used as a turtle shield?”

“Because.” You shook your head decidedly, tapping the back of his leg to get him to shift to the side. “If anyone’s got a chance of manhandling me into a shower, it’s you. So you just keep your hands to yourself.”

He openly chuckled at that, turning away to look out over the Lair towards something. “I would never dream of manhandling you.”

“It’s literally your go-to move, Blue.” You argued, before the sound of quiet footsteps had your shoulders going up again, on the defensive.

“Hey, Leo, what’s-”

Leo made some sharp motion, you could feel his arm move, but Donnie broke off, and you knew some sign language was taking place.

“Oh, well that’s rude.” You pushed Leo again, swinging him around when you felt Donnie try and sidestep around towards you. You heard a huff of amusement as he swayed again, but Donnie was undeterred.

“Hey?” He asked, drawing out the word, and his head popped around Leo’s shell, low enough that you realized he must be crouching. He gave you that patented little smile, his eyes roving over you, “You ok?”

“I’m fan-fucking-tastic, Don, and I’m not taking a shower.”

He bobbed his head, shuffled forward a step, before retreating with a little huff when you swung Leo into his space and forced him to back up. He disappeared, before popping up on your other side, even lower this time, peering up at you.

“I don’t think you need a shower.” He continued, and you gave him a deadpanned stare, not buying it for a minute, and he grinned again. “What about a bath, though?”

“A bath?” You parroted, narrowed your eyes threateningly.

“Yeah, a bath,” He swayed forward. “I bet you’ve had a long, exhausting week. And I know you were excited to come down here and see us.” He slid forward a step. “Let me run you a bath? I got all the plumping fixed up, you’ll never run out of hot water?”

Unbidden, you thought about the sunken tub Donnie had fitted into the bathroom a few years ago. It was practically a pool for you, and since it was so large you almost never let yourself have the luxury of using it.

You set your cheek on Leo’s shell, thinking it over. “All to myself?”

“All to yourself,” he chirped, dipping his head in agreement. “I’ll even dig out that smell good stuff you like so much.”

“I thought that stuff was overpowering?” At the mention of smell, your shoulders hiked back up again, and you felt Leo tense, saw the flick of Donnie’s tongue against his lower lip.

“No, no, it’s not bad.” He raised his hand, reaching out slowly, “promise.”

You thought it over, narrowing your eyes, thinking it over, let him pull your hand off Leo’s shell.

“I’m gonna go get some blankets,” Leo whispered to Donnie, as he pulled you slowly out from behind his older brother, and you had to focus to make out the words. “You good here?”

“Sure, we’ll be right as rain, won’t we?” Donnie asked, as if there was no way you could take offense at the way they were skirting around you.

“Wait-what?” But Leo was gone, and Donnie tucked your hand into his much larger one, pulling on you gently until you were in front of a rapidly filling tub inside their tiled bathroom, not quite sure how you got there.

“Here you go, some towels, and I’ve got the smell good stuff.” Donnie passed you the stack.

“Wait, Don,” you sputtered, grabbed up the soap as he tried to leave. “This is- this is yours-”

“Use it, then this one.” He tapped the second bottle, the one that was the scent you kept down in the Lair for emergencies. “The first one should get rid of any-well-” He shrugged, with a small smile, apparently smart enough to not tell you that you stunk to your face.

“I-I’m sorry,” You put down the stack of towels, and he caught your hands, holding them in his gentle grip.

“There’s no need to be sorry, ok? There’s no way you could have known about it.”

“But-why?” You gestured, and he let you, head tilting as you swung your arms out in a circle to encompass everything that had happened in the last hour.

He hummed, then tapped your forehead, eyes crinkling at the wrinkles of offense that followed his digit. “It’s just a turtle thing, don’t worry too much over it, kay?”

You gasped, forgetting the weirdness for a moment. “Oh my god, something the great Donatello won’t explain?”

He was amused, but not enough to expound. “Take the bath, relax. I’ll be waiting for you.” He reclined to his full height, pausing to lock the door before he swung it shut with a pointed wink.

True to his word, when you inched the door open and stuck your head out, he was waiting with politely adverted eyes and a bundle of clothes. When you eyed him, he handed you the bundle, then slid his palm over the door to keep it shut.

You figured out a moment why a moment later when you unraveled the clothes and found they were not the spare set you left in the top drawer of Leo’s dresser. You pushed against the door angrily, to not avail. “Donnie! These are not mine!”

“The beanie’s mine.” He said unhelpfully, seemingly without remorse. “The shirt smells like one of Raph’s old ones.” He tilted his head, and when you peered angrily through the door all you could see was the crinkle of amused golden hazel.

You looked down at the garments. “This hoodie better be clean and not the one Mikey’s been wearing all week.”

“And the pants are Leo’s.” Donnie talked on, as if he hadn’t heard you, and that was enough to keep you from slipping the hoodie over your head, instead tying it as a makeshift belt to keep the ridiculously large sweatpants up on your hips.

“This is stupid. I feel stupid.” You knocked on the door, and his hand slid away, far enough that you could waddle out. The shirt was more of a dress, tucked into the ridiculously vibrant, blue sweatpants. The orange and white hoodie only worked as a belt thanks to the amount of times you could roll the waist of the pants. And over your head, you tucked your wet hair up into the purple beanie to avoid getting anything wet. “I look ridiculous. Can’t I just go to Leo’s room and get my clothes?”

Donnie’s gaze swept over you, eyes crinkling, lips pressed close to keep from twitching as he looked you over. But you saw the way his shoulders relaxed, curved towards you as he leaned forward. “Do you want me to carry you?”

“No.” He nodded at your sharp answer, then gestured you towards where the others surely were. “I hope you break a rib trying to hold in those giggles.”

“Fair.” He allowed, for once not about to correct you, lips pursing quickly, before they smoothed out again.

You found the others in the living room area, preparing for movie night as if nothing had gone amiss. When you tripped over a sweatpants leg trying to get to the couch, however, it was Raph that caught you.

You felt his chest inflate, and you stuck out a hand, pushed his snout away from whatever body part he was smelling. “No, no one is sniffing me anymore. This is a no nose zone.” You flicked his snout, hard. “No nose!”

He snorted, but set you down in the middle of the couch, and without hesitation claimed the spot next to you, a plate of pizza in one hand. You eyed it, eyed him, before leaning forward, pushing up the sleeves of the faded red shirt to grab a slice.

Mikey came from the kitchen area, whistling, cheery once again as he settled against the couch on the floor. You heard him giggle right before a cold can was pressed up the loose leg of the blue sweatpants, against your calf, and you hissed, flicked the limb to move it away.

The can plopped in your lap, and his large fingers grabbed your calf instead, pulled forward until it draped over his shoulder. “Now you smell divine, baby cakes.” He patted your knee where it rested beside his head.

“No Nose Zone, Mikey.” You grumbled into the pizza, tensing to keep from spilling into Donnie’s space when claimed the other side of you, his long arm curling up to rest behind your head while the other launched kernels of popcorn into the air. “I’d bet five bucks I still smell suspiciously of turtle, though.”

Leo had the remote, the last to join, and he took the spot on the floor in front of Donnie, the back of his head touching your other calf where it was curved under you. “No Nose Zone, remember? We aren’t allowed to check.”

“Damn right, you aren’t.” You accepted him opening your pop for you though, sipping it slowly.

“After all that, you should smell like-”

The others chorused, “shut up, Mikey.” And he broke off with another little giggle.

When you finished your first slice of pizza, you found Donnie had place a hand full of popcorn in front of you, and you snorted in amusement as you picked kernels from his palm.

Leo still hadn’t picked a movie, and you looked down to find his head tilted back, watching. “Hey, earth to Leo?” He blinked, and you gestured with your can towards the tv. “Movie?”

“What do you wanna watch?” Raph asked you from your right, and you blinked in startled surprise at him. He only scrubbed an arm idly along the muscles of his other, plate perched on the thigh closest to you, eyes crinkled as he regarded you.

“I picked last week?” You protested, but he only shrugged, as if the turns didn’t matter anymore.

You glared at all of them, ending with Donnie, who simple raised his brows in question.

“You sure you don’t wanna explain?” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Hm… nope.” He supplied, curling his arm behind you to prop up his head, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word.

In retaliation, you made them watch your favorite movie for the fortieth time.

#tmnt fanfiction #tmnt bayverse #tmnt bayverse fanfiction #tmnt bayverse fanfic #tmnt leonardo #bayverse leonardo #tmnt raphael #bayverse rahpael #tmnt donatello #bayverse donatello #tmnt michelangelo #bayverse michelangelo #leonardo x reader #raphael x reader #donatello x reader #michelangelo x reader

327 notes · View notes

augiewrites · 3 months

Text

"unknown / nth" - richie jerimovich

summary: y/n reflects on their relationship with richie (inspired by hozier's unknown / nth)

pairing: richie jerimovich x reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings: angst, a lot of hurt with no comfort, reader and richie are toxic :(

a/n: i've been staring at this draft for so long idk how to feel

The question kept ringing in Y/N’s head for days to come.

What are we? I mean, we’re friends, right?

Y/N didn’t know if they could be friends with Richie. He had been breaking their heart for as long as they could remember.

1995

The flashing lights and thumping bass was giving Y/N a headache. They never thought they would hate senior prom so much.

It wouldn’t be so bad—Y/N thought, bringing a cup of spiked punch to their lips—if Richie hadn’t run off to god knows where with Mikey.

Richie wasn’t a bad boyfriend, per se, but their relationship wasn’t always conventional. Hell, they didn’t have a label until nearly a year into their relationship, when some jock hit on Y/N right in front of Richie. He started a fight with the boy—one he wouldn’t have won if Mikey wasn’t there—but he made one thing clear: Y/N belonged to Richie, and Richie belonged to Y/N.

A small smile made its way to Y/N’s face at the memory, but fell quickly when they remembered their current situation. It had been thirty minutes, and there was no sign of their date.

With a huff, Y/N shoved their unfinished cup into Fak’s hand—Y/N didn’t care to know how he snuck in to the function—and headed for the gymnasium doors.

If Richie was going to run off into school with Mikey, then Y/N would run off altogether.

They made it halfway across the parking lot before rapid footsteps approached and they heard a yell of, “hey! Where are you going?”

Y/N halted against their better judgment, letting Richie catch up to them.

“What’s up? Where are you going?” Richie’s hand found Y/N’s waist as he tried to catch his breath.

Y/N was disappointed, but not surprised. Richie had a track record of fucking up without realization—it was just something they had to accept when they got involved with the boy.

Y/N continued walking, letting Richie’s hand drop. “I’m going home, Rich.” Richie scoffed and started following once he realized his partner was serious.

“What do you mean you’re going home? I thought we were having a good time?”

“If we means you and Mike, then yeah. I’m sure you were having a good time.” It was uncharacteristically cold for May, and Y/N shuddered as they rubbed their bare arms.

Richie draped his tux jacket over their shoulders without skipping a beat. “C’mon, we just had some business that needed taken care of.”

“Well what about me? Don’t I deserve to be taken care of?” Y/N couldn’t even look at him as they continued, “I swear, you should just leave me and marry Mikey. You’d probably be a lot happier.”

“Hey,” desperation seeped into Richie’s tone as he lightly gripped Y/N’s arm, bringing the two of them to a halt. “I’m here now, why don’t we just take two on this shit and try having a good time? Together.”

Y/N finally met Richie’s eyes, “We’ll have a good time, but for how long? Huh? How long before you ditch me again? You always do this, and I always just go along with it.”

“I don’t always ditch you.”

“Oh really? What about homecoming? The holiday party? Last weekend at Little Greg’s? I can go on.”

Richie guffawed, flailing his arms out.

Y/N continued forward, “I’m going home. I don’t know why I expected anything else from tonight.”

“Y/N—wait,” he caught up to them again, “at least let me take you home. You’re not walking alone this late.”

They ignored him and kept going.

“You either get in the car or I’m walking right behind you the whole way there.”

Y/N walked the whole way home, only acknowledging his presence to hand him his jacket before closing the door firmly in his face.

They were back together by Monday.

1998

Three years. It was the longest Y/N and Richie had ever gone without breaking up.

Y/N had taken a gap year after graduation before making the decision to attend a university in Nowhere, Pennsylvania. The couple had gotten pretty good at the long distance thing—call schedules, risque polaroids crammed into letters, Y/N spending all breaks and long weekends in Chicago, and Richie coming to them when he could pawn his weekend shifts onto someone else.

It worked at first, but the relationship was strained once Y/N finally began to settle into their new life. Their classes got more demanding, trips home were more infrequent, and they were down to one biweekly call if they were lucky.

Y/N should have seen it coming, but Richie should have had better timing.

Y/N was on a plane to Chicago two hours after their last final was handed in, and the pair was nearly inseparable for the two weeks leading up to Christmas. Everything seemed fine—perfect, even—and Y/N was so happy to finally have their man right there, in the flesh.

Against their better judgment, Y/N found themself at the Berzatto Christmas dinner. It was loud and multiple fights had broken out throughout the evening, but Y/N had gotten through dinner relatively unscathed.

That was, until Richie pulled them into an empty room.

“I think we should break up.”

The melody of loud conversations and playful scuffles throughout the house fell deaf on Y/N’s ears as they felt the walls close in on them.

“Wh-what?”

“I just think we need some time apart, is all.”

“Time apart? Practically all of our time is apart.”

“Yeah, I mean…” Richie trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck and looking everywhere but at Y/N. “I guess that’s part of the problem.”

Y/N didn’t want to cry. Not here, not now, not when they’d have to push through a crowd of the most overbearing people on the planet to make an exit. They cursed the hot tears flowing freely down their cheeks.

“It’s not just on me to come here to you, you know. You never come visit me at school.”

“C’mon, Y/N, you know I work.”

“And I don’t? I’m constantly putting my life—my livelihood—on hold just so you’re not lonely for a weekend.”

“Look, I’m not trying to fight about this,” Y/N scoffed at Richie’s words, but he continued, “having you here has just been a reminder of how much I hate this long distance shit. It ain’t fair to me.”

“It’s not fair to you? You think it doesn’t kill me to not be able to be here with you?” Y/N hated how pathetic their cracking voice made them sound.

Richie’s eyes finally locked onto Y/N’s.

“Well, you were the one that chose to leave.”

Richie’s words sunk their teeth into Y/N’s heart, and they could feel a chunk being ripped out as they turned to leave the room without another word.

They were barely aware of their surroundings as they made their way through the house to the front door. Blood was pumping so loudly in their ears that they didn’t hear Sugar asking if they were okay or the harmony of Carmy and Mike assaulting Richie with varying versions of “what the hell did you do?”

Y/N grabbed their coat, but didn’t take the time to put it on before moving swiftly out the door and into the cold, letting its finite slam ricochet through the empty street.

Present

Y/N spent a lot of time thinking about all the things they wanted to say to Richie at that moment. They wanted to tell him about how the distance never made a difference to them—that they were just happy to know he was out there and they would be back home full time in just a few years. That they loved Richie—even being all too familiar with his bad side. That they couldn’t imagine a future without him.

Richie was a chapter of their life Y/N was never able to fully close. Over the years following the breakup, Y/N would visit home and end up in Richie’s bed more times than they were proud of.

Y/N stopped coming home after Sugar broke the news that Richie and Tiff were engaged.

Even after all the years, Y/N could never find the courage to tell Richie how they truly felt about him. Even now, they could break beneath the weight of the goodness they still held for him.

It was like a cruel joke that their lives were aligning again. Y/N had to fight the hope blossoming in their chest—it never did them much good with Richie, anyway.

~~~

feedback is appreciated!

#richie jerimovich x you #richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich #richie the bear #the bear fanfiction #the bear x reader #the bear fic #the bear fx #the bear hulu #the bear

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feministdaniel · 1 year

Text

#my chemical romance #mikey way #mikey monday #mikey fucking way #silly boy #silly guy #so silly #mcr #silly little guy #emo #meow

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saints4grrrls · 2 years

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HAPPY MIKEYFUCKER MONDAY

#how the FUCK does queue work #mcr #mikey way #my chemical romance #frank iero #gerard way #ray toro #sweet little dudes #mikeyfucker monday

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makethatelevenrings · 1 year

Text

Somewhere Only We Know - ONE

Chapter Warnings: goodbye earl (pet death), spoilers for 2x01 kinda??, this is a bit rushed bc it’s exposition but we get into the fun stuff next chapter

Masterlist

“Oh fucking hell.”

You hadn’t expected the first game of your new job to end like this but here you were creating Canva tribute posts for a deceased dog. Keeley directed you to make sure that you were focusing on solely sympathetic posts and honoring Earl. You had the press conference pulled up on one of your monitors to ensure you were catching what was being said along with the social media feeds.

And of course Ted Lasso did an excellent job honoring Earl. That man made your life easier.

A knock sounded on your office door and you raised your head to find Keeley peeking into your office. “You survived your first day! Better than Earl, I’d say.”

You choked back a laugh and motioned her to come in. “Christ, Keels, poor things not even buried yet.”

“Sorry, sorry. I just wanted to come see how you were getting on. Rebecca looked at the Insta with me and I have to say, your graphics are a hoot. Are you up for a task to do sometime this week?”

“Yeah, of course. It is my job, after all.”

She grinned. “Right, right. Well, Rebecca bought Barkingham Palace in honor of Earl and I would love it if you could go get some photos and videos with the dogs. They have some named after the players too! We have some little dog jerseys you can bring with you.”

“I can do that. Anything in particular you want to see?”

She bounced up onto her feet and shook her head. “Nope! Make it cute, make it fun. I know you’ll do a great job. You’re doing fabulous, babes.”

Raising your coffee mug in salute, you returned back to your work as she fled your tiny office in a wash of pink and glitter. Considering the tasks she could have given you, hanging out with a bunch of dogs wasn’t bad.

Three days later, you found yourself at Barkingham Palace with a golden retriever demanding pets and a staffie jumping up in an attempt to lick your face. You laughed in delight as dogs scrambled around you. You had successfully slid little Richmond jerseys over a few of the dogs heads and now a tiny Pomeranian was proudly sporting a Rojas jersey. A Border Collie wore a visor and whistle and you snapped a picture. You sent that one to Coach Lasso and received a GIF of a dog laughing in response.

Two Spaniels with McAdoo and Zoreaux jerseys made a great video with the way they tumbled over each other. One of the media guys you had recruited for help with capturing photos got a few shots of you being tackled by a Labrador wearing a Bumbercatch jersey.

The dogs were so cute that you even put your information down to volunteer in the future when you and Mikey, the photographer, packed up for the day. There was one little dachshund that kept following you around but there was no way you could get a dog, especially when your new job required you to travel frequently. Volunteering would help get in some well deserved snuggles.

By the time you got home, a few texts were waiting for you. Keeley asked for a few picture previews so you fired off some of the photos you had taken on your phone. One was from Higgins reminding you to swing by HR on Monday to finalize your travel waivers. Two were from unknown numbers who identified themselves as Sam Obisanya and Colin Hughes. They both sent friendly texts welcoming you to the team and you made a mental note to figure out what their favorite dessert was so you could make it for their birthdays. You sent a thank you text to both of them and sent them each a photo with a dog in their jersey.

Stripping off your fur covered clothes, your first priority was to take a shower before curling up on the couch and editing these photos for your post tomorrow. The TV played in some low drone in the background, some kind of stupid reality dating show where hot people dated and fucked like rabbits. It was mind numbing and didn’t require thought and you liked having something playing in the background as you worked.

You had a few videos already on the Instagram story from today and you went to check the engagement. Swiping your finger along the screen, you were relieved to see thousands of views and shares. People loved puppies and they loved football. If you combined the two, it was gold. One of the videos of you getting tackled by some of the loveable dogs made it in and people were loving it. Rebecca even texted you with a, “LOVE! So cute!!” so you were feeling great about your work.

Verified accounts were bumped to the top and you recognized a few of the players names. Zoreaux, Jan Maas, and a few others had viewed the stories, along with a name you didn’t recognize. Jamie Tartt. Was he the guy from that one underwear model? Or was he the Givenchy ad? You looked up at your television screen. Oh, never mind. He was the reality TV show manwhore.

Exiting Richmond's account, you changed your Instagram over to yours. There was far less engagement, but your simple baking account didn’t appeal to as many people as a football league. You loved designing different desserts, trying out recipes, and balancing out flavor combinations. Combined with your love for photography and design, you had a pretty prolific home baking account. It was the account you showed Keeley as your portfolio and now she and Rebecca both followed you. Oddly enough, Higgins did too.

Your face was rarely in the photos because you ran a one-woman show, but occasionally a friend would snap a great candid. Most of your pictures were treats, flowers, cool spots around London, or whatever you found cool. You liked showing your personality through photos and you didn’t care if your face wasn’t in there. The memories were present and that’s what mattered.

A few new followers had joined the fray and you were surprised to see some of the Richmond players among them. It wasn’t like you hid the account, but it wasn’t something you advertised as your name. Keeley must have told them.

But then there was that name again. Jamie Tartt. Why would some footballer turned reality star care about your panna cotta fails and award-winning lemon bars? Why would a guy who isn’t even playing for Richmond want to follow you, the social media manager?

Fuck it. It was too late to question the motives of some stranger. He was just another follower. Another number for engagement profiles. Maybe he was just interested in your slutty brownie recipe. Whatever, you needed to sleep so you could get to the stadium tomorrow and get these photos out.

Tag list: @shiptheship

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fanfic #ted lasso fanfic #somewhereverse

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