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6lostgirl6 · 10 months

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A Night To Dismember

Pairing: Michael Myers x Fem!Reader

TW: Detailed Gore, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Sexual Assault [Not by Michael], Slightly Possessive Michael, Protective Michael, Mature Audience only!

A/N: Requested by my bestie @prettywhenibleed! I really hope you enjoy this and it was an absolute pleasure to write this for you!! Love you, my favorite slasher whore! ❤️ This isn't my best work, I'm afraid, forgive me.

The Smith's Grove Sanitarium operated according to a schedule that was consistently set in motion without interruption. No authorized doctor employed by the sanitarium, however, would have foreseen this. Medical specialists thought they were completely familiar with Michael Myers' behavior. He was docile and kept to himself, despite being the most dangerous and threatening patient in the hospital.

But if you left him alone, there was a chance he would treat you in a similar fashion. The sole exception would be if touching his masks or otherwise bothered him. Even being among other patients was something he never enjoyed.

You were a new patient, recently exiled from society and your family because of your dreadful infatuation with fire and burning objects of interest. Your arrival left the building in absolute shock. On your first day, you were assigned to the recreation room. When you entered the room, your initial instinct was to walk over to the largest and most dangerous man within the sanatorium while grinning brightly. You only watched him work on a paper mache mask while standing over his hunched figure in the corner of the room, his hospital-approved supplies scattered along the table.

You thought the colors were stunning, which you happily expressed.

As a precaution against Michael harming you, guards stood by the recreation room's entrance wielding batons. Michael, on the other hand, did the exact opposite, giving you a cursory glance before grunting and slackly pointing for you to sit next to him.

It was like you and Michael had your own timetable inside the sanitarium, and this went on for the next few months without fail. As directed by his psychiatrist, Michael was permitted to create his masks in the recreation area in the mornings. You would follow not far behind and take your normal seat beside him at a table chosen at random, apart from the other patients. You would merely watch him create his masks and ramble about whatever was on your mind. Michael never responded to the conversation, but that didn't stop you from talking to him because he had his own style of doing so without words. You have grown accustomed to deciphering his thoughts from his basic grunts and gestures.

"Hey, Mikey." You said with a smile, taking a seat at your usual spot next to Michael's side, placing your tray of food onto the table.

Michael was in the middle of placing wet paper mache on the face mold for his mask, his fingers caked in colors of paint and residue from the paper mache. He paused for a moment, giving you a small grunt as acknowledgement before returning to his activity.

You smiled more, chuckling at his usual ways of communicating as you watched him craft. You've always been interested in his masks and the variety of patterns he would use for each one. Many of his masks had their own unique qualities. However, you knew to only look, not touch.

"I see you're adding bright colors this time; are those happy pills finally working?" You teased him, nudging him softly with your body.

Michael huffed through his nose, which you learned was his way of chuckling as he shook his head at you. In the past, It took a while, but you had a better understanding of Michael's gestures and emotions than the doctors.

Simply because you treated him like a person, not an experiment.

"Maybe next time then." You replied, turning towards your tray before glancing at his project once more. "You're really good at that, Mikey. You're really talented."

Once again, Michael paused his movements, his stained fingers holding the paper mache while his eyes remained downcast. His fingers twitched before he resumed, and you almost thought you said something wrong.

"I didn't mean-"

You were cut off as Michael grabbed another mold from the table, pushing it in your direction. Your eyes widened slightly as you pushed your tray out of the way as Michael's slow movements brought other materials in your direction.

Still in slight awe, you watched him turn towards you, and your eyes connected through his favorite orange mask. You couldn't help the way your heart skipped a beat at the way his eyes stared into your own, seemingly piercing into your own soul.

The doctors were wrong; his eyes weren't soulless, nor were they black, resembling a massive void of nothingness. They were blue, similar to a clear sky or the glimmering waves of the ocean.

He huffed before pointing a finger at the materials and then towards you. He wanted you to mold with him.

"Thank you, Mikey." You said softly, a bright smile on your face.

When your eyes met Michael's, he was unable to comprehend the sensation in his chest. Usually, when his sight fell on their figures, individuals would tremble or turn away. He wasn't concerned by their fear of the facility's most dangerous patient. He actually benefited from the fear he instilled in the hearts of many who came to the sanitarium.

Yet you didn't...and he liked that.

He liked that you weren't scared of him, speaking to him, or even touching him like you've been these past few months. The thought of you being scared of him made him feel...hollow.

When you started working on your own mask using the materials that were laid out on the table, Michael couldn't help but covertly place a palm on his chest to feel how his heart was refusing to settle down. He almost wanted to groan in annoyance, hating the way he liked being around you and having your attention.

He had been content with his solitude for a long time, He preferred being alone and had been for many years. However, the notion of you leaving him made the murderous itch inside him threaten to resurface.

He decided that he would keep you with him, protect you with everything he has, and extinguish anyone who threatened to ruin that. With darkened eyes, he returned to working on his mask.

On that day, you and Michael became closer.

You weren't born yesterday and you certainly weren't born stupid. Trouble was afoot in the institution and it was either happening under the doctors' noses or they simply didn't care enough to investigate. Over the past week, you would hear feminine screams down the hallway in the women's section of the institution during the late hours of the night. Last night, the screams could be heard two doors down from your room.

The screams and cries began when a new guard was appointed to the institution, supposedly replacing a well-known guard who was at the age of retirement. Due to your paranoia, you would sit on the edge of your bed, watching the door in the chance of someone entering your room when they weren't supposed to.

During the days, you would spend all you could with Michael, hoping that your association with him would make you seem off limits to mess with, or you hoped. Yet, Michael couldn't protect you when the sun went down and the men and women would return to their respective cells on opposite sides of the institution.

Tonight, you were following the same routine, sitting on the edge of your bed and watching the door. Your mind was in shambles, trying to come up with a plan in that chance, that horrid chance of the new guard coming for you. You hoped it wasn't what you were thinking, and for once, you prayed.

God never heard your prayers, and he certainly didn't now, especially when the jingling of keys were heading down the hallway, towards your room.

Michael couldn't sleep and when he couldn't sleep, he would simply pass the time by creating more masks or painting designs onto them. He was sitting at his desk, the surface covered in paper mache, markers, paint, and crayons. He was in the middle of adding a touch of red when he heard the distant sound of screaming.

His annoyance was disguised under his mask as he sighed and tightened his grip on the crayon in his hand to the point that it almost broke in half. He puffed again at the commotion and went on, indifferent to the screams. Perhaps a patient was making a scene during the nightly check-ins.

In order to block out the noises, Michael withdrew within the walls of his mind. It was a way that allowed Michael to escape freely from the confinement of his cell. He would always imagine a life outside the institution, with you. He would imagine the way he would protect you and provide for you. The thought used to sicken himn, but now he enjoyed it, the possibility. The sound of keys jingling, seemingly opening his cage, caused him to pause, though. With a loud crash, the cell door swung open, and shouting could now be heard outside of his room.

"Want some, freak?" The guard asked him in an mocking manner while Michael remained at his desk, his back to the guard. Michael immediately understood what the guard was pulling when he heard the feminine screams and intended to ignore it.

He continued to ignore his surroundings, ignoring the rage building within his chest. The sound of his bed creaking didn't deter him from continuing on with his activity. However, it all changed when the victim screamed one word.

"Michael!"

You.

Your trapped figure on his bed, with your nightgown pushed up so that only your thighs were visible, caught Michael's attention as his head whirled around. Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears, which streamed down your cheeks as you sobbed and struggled. His eyes quickly shifted to the guard hovering over you, and he developed tunnel vision instinctively.

A ferocious roar erupts from Michael's mouth and takes hold of the guard by the neck and collar of his shirt, throwing him off balance. In the midst, you shakily brought yourself to a sitting position, fixing the bottom of your nightgown to cover yourself. Your eyes watched as Michael picked up the guard, pinning him to the wall with eerie silence. The man in his grasp was yelling in pain and fear as Michael kept him pinned, his legs dangling in the air.

"L-Let go! Let go, you fucking punk!" The guard cried out.

Michael did not like that, not at all. Without a second thought, Michael hurled him into his desk, his art supplies falling to the ground in a cluster of clangs while the man groaned in pain. Like a predator stalking his prey, Michael's towering form stalked over to the smaller male, his eyes black as night and void of any life or mercy within. His large hand reached out to grab the same red colored pencil,

Michael's next action seemed to be a blur, he body launching onto the guard and stabbing him with the colored pencil, his resiliant strength making the pencil tear through flesh and muscle.

You watched in a sickening twist of fascination and awe, watching as Michael stabbed the guard over and over, leaving no body part untouched, the man;s screams filling the room. Your heart felt warm, knowing that Michael was willing enough to kill someone for you.

Lastly, Michael stabbed him until his chest, stomach, and face was shrouded in punctures, cuts, and wounds. With one last jab, the colored pencil stabbed into his neck, making the man gurgle on his own blood.

"Michael..." You whispered, your eyes taking in his bloodied form as he slowly turned to you, heaving himself up and moving towards you. It was as if he was a trained dog hoping he made his master proud. However, you were nothing of the sort. When he was close enough, you wrapped your arms around him, pressing yourself into his strong form. "Thank you..."

Michael gave a small huff, hesitantly touching your head with his bloody palm, staining your strands with the bodily fluid. Without another word, Michael pushed you away and grabbed your hand, pulling you off the bed and heading towards the door.

"Where we are going?" You asked in confusion, following behind the behemoth of a man down the stark white hallway.

In response, Michael tugged on your hand and you decided to go along with whatever he had in his mind. He saved you after all; even when he didn't have to, he did. It made you feel safe and protected in his presence.

"Alright, Alright." You muttered, your figures turning a corner and out of sight.

Red and white.

Those were the colors you would never forget. The way the walls were coated in blood and bodily fluids of various nurses and guards that laid along the floor in mangled messes.

Michael was strong, very strong. You remembered the way he smashed a guard's skull in with his fingers alone. You shuddered at the thought, crossing your arms and staring at the wall in front of you as you waited for Michael to finish off his last victim. A nurse arriving at the right place at the wrong time as Michael ambushed her, his hands around her throat as he strangled her.

Michael walked over to you, his muffled huffing practically hovering over your ear as he showed you shoes and coat. You stared at the items with a blank expression, wondering what he wanted you to do with these.

He huffed before shaking the items in his hands, motioning the items towards you. You sighed before taking the items with a small smile, throwing on the shoes and coat. You felt the warmth of the fabric soothe your cold figure.

"Thank you..." You muttered softly, looking up at him as he stared down at you.

He couldn't help but think you looked...cute.

He offered you his bloodied hand, which you instantly took and followed him to the exit. You both were finally going to be free and it was all thanks to him.

After a few hours of walking, your feet were beginning to ache and the adrenaline from earlier was wearing off.

After your fifth yawn, Michael stopped in his tracks, turning towards you in the middle of the field. He simply stared at you as you bent forward to rest your hands on your knees.

Michael, I need to rest for a moment. Please my-" Your words were cut off when Michael stormed over to you, grabbing you roughly around the hips, hoisting you into his arms. His arm went around your waist, while the other held your back in a bridal style fashion.

Your eyes widened from his sudden roughness, however you couldn't complain as you basked in his warmth, nuzzling your face in the bloodied fabric of his robe.

"Thank you." You said, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to finally relax for the first time tonight. You didn't notice the way Michael was staring at you in his arms, his darkened eyes filled with something unknown, dangerous...maybe even a little bit of caring.

Silently, he turned and resumed walking through the field, making sure to keep you safe as you began to doze in his arms.

Finally, you were his.

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Tagging: Comment to be added!!

@prettywhenibleed @ghoulgeousimmaculate @britany1997 @rottent33th @slaasherslut @bluecoolr @the-pinstriped-hood @flower-crowned-lady @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @azzy-ozborn @strrvnge @repostingmyfavs

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bl00dfroma-fairy · 13 days

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gogotti · 3 months

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Starving - Michael Myers/Reader - NSFW

This was a quick drabble I did! If there's any mistakes I was high when I wrote this so blame high me.

Warnings: Michael gives you head, i'm still using the word cunt lmfao, and nothing else really.

Michael loved eating you out; he'd eat you like a starving man most nights, and considering how infrequently he actually sought you out, for food and pleasure, you always assumed he was.

He'd make sure that you were awake when he arrived, wandering around your house doing chores or getting ready for bed; he'd enter quietly to catch you off guard, and not waste any time dropping to his knees and making you sit on a nearby surface. Michael would tear off your pants, throwing the scraps of fabric behind him and placing his blood soaked hands on your thighs, spreading them as far as they'd go.

On some nights he'd inspect you first, using his thumbs to slowly spread your lips and stare at your wet cunt, only letting you feel his heavy and hot breaths on your clit. Eventually, he'd lift his mask halfway off of his face and lick a sloppy stripe from your hole to your clit, sucking harshly on the sensitive bud. It wouldn't take long for him to get messier, saliva and your cum covering his beard and coating your thighs.

He didn't know what he was doing, clearly; his lack of rhythm or a pattern was proof enough, but he was willing to let you slowly guide his head, and moan sweet affirmations at him when he made you feel good. He'd know when he found the perfect spot to lick and suck when you'd begin to arch your back and squeeze your thighs around his head tightly. He'd grab your thighs, harshly prying them apart and making you whine, so you reach for his head instead, shoving his face further into your cunt and letting out a loud drawn-out moan.

You gripped onto his mask, nearly taking it off as you felt that familiar feeling begin to bubble at your core. Michael could tell you were close, he could feel your cunt clenching and twitching around his tongue when he'd quickly dip it inside, and he could clearly hear your loud pleas to cum.

He let you, of course, needing to feel you gush around his tongue just as much as you. You couldn't help but let your eyes roll to the back of your head and your mouth fall open; your back arched, further shoving your cunt into Michael's face and fueling him to continue lapping at your cunt.

#rz michael myers #michael myers #michael myers x reader #michael myers x you #michael myers x y/n #slashers #slashers x reader #rob zombie Michael Myers #halloween 2007 #halloween #rz michael myers x reader

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26cyberworms · 7 months

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The old drawing is down BELOWW 🔥🔥

Blegh ‼️

#slashers #vincent sinclair #house of wax #rz michael myers #rob zombie michael myers #michael myers #halloween 2007 #digital art #my art #cyber's art

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scuddisher · 1 year

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FATE UP AGAINST YOUR WILL

Thrown into Michael's room without supervision, he uses you for his desires—and uses more of you to his benefit.

RATING — MATURE & EXPLICIT (18+) PAIRING — rz! michael myers x gender-neutral! reader GENRE(S) — full fic, thriller, smut, sanitarium! au WORD COUNT — 3.3k WARNINGS — dark! & predator! michael (obviously), intense situations, choking, partial language, some objectifying tones SMUT WARNINGS — labeling this as dub-con (although consent is given) bc it can be taken either way, dom/sub tones, oral (michael receiving) turned skullfuck, force is used, gagging, cum-play & swallowing, sweaty michael, drooling, masturbation (reader), michael’s bde is real! RELEASE DATE — JAN 17TH 2023

AUTHOR’S NOTE — not another one of my fucking dreams making me want to write it out as a smut…i did it anyways lmao. this is literally just pure filth with a base-line plot, enjoy <3 i might make this into a series of segments of rz! michael x reader going insane for each other if this is received well, so please share your thoughts about that to me!!! this is roughly edited btw

NAVIGATION | SLASHERS MLIST & RECS

The sudden sound of the door's lock clicking startled you back into your senses. What had occurred that day had only felt like your imagination, words passed back and forth between doctors and guards.

It seemed unbelievable, a program that places yourself into the space of the quietest, most reserved and silently possessive man in the entire block.

"Although the accounted for are considered lesser of outside human beings—" The paper-written words made your ears ache with every syllable spoken. "—it is still within their right to be given time to consult one another. Our program places those most threatening with those of small cases in order to give a natural exchange that those in the common world deal with on a daily basis."

It was all a ruse to please the government—a stamp given to the sanitarium for their lessening care of those they house to grow their long list of experiments and labels.

"In better words: if the patients of Smith's Grove do not want to converse with one another in the open spaces given to them—we will force them to do so in another's space."

As soon as the white door swung on its hinges and opened way to the most notorious killer's room, the man hunched over his desk as usual, reality had set in.

Michael Myers, the most dangerous man locked away in the building for life, was now your partner in a survey-like test that could give you enough credit to appeal your case and perhaps get far away from a place like this. Maybe even back out into the world.

All you had to do was play along and not get killed by him.

"Michael!" The guard's voice was loud in one of your ears, shaking your entire frame. "You have a guest."

The guard's hand placed at the top of your back, one swift push pressing you into Michael's cell with the door closing quickly behind you. There was no time to think, no time to act, and most certainly no time to beg for a different partner.

You had seen his room in flashes, moving fast down the hall from the guard's pace—only enough time for a passerby's glance through the lines of the door's window or in through the door itself when it laid open.

Michael never frequented anything other than the cafeteria, his lonesome stay at the sanitarium nothing more than bitter to anyone who paid him any attention. Instead he sat within the four small corners of his cell, fingers tampering and crafting more masks than you could count—even with all of them before you now.

"You have an hour." With those four words, the door was shut and locked and the guard was gone.

Michael sat in the same chair you had seen him in a few times before, back hunched slightly to give his long arms a better angle at the mask being formed by his fingers. The paper-mache art seemed to reflect him in some ways, each and every one lining the walls various versions of what he made before except only slightly different.

You could feel your body rocking back and forth, eyes shaking from your nerves being shot. It was only a matter of time before the man made a move, got sick of you standing within his walls and decided to do something about it—the only thing you could think about was when.

The man was hushed, silent and deadly as you took two steps forward towards where he sat. He didn't pay you any attention, the mere shivering of your bones in his peripheral only making him blink his blue eyes behind the mask he wore on his face.

You didn't know what to say, or if you could even speak, but it didn't take long for the long-haired man to stand where he once worked.

Something had clicked in his brain. Maybe it was the scent of you in his nostrils, your single-bodied self unaccompanied and stuffed into his room to play house just to get good points on your record, or maybe it was the way his chest huffed in sudden annoyance of your presence—but the man was made well aware that you were where you weren't meant to be.

You felt your world growing smaller, the four walls that he had lived in quickly appearing to be your last demise. All of the times you had seen Michael, he was calm and collected—but as he stood before you know, you had no clue what was playing through his mind.

And it was his shuffle from the front of the chair that made your body stiffen, the long robe he always wore drifting with the blow of air that passed him as he turned and made his way before you. Not a single word had been spoken between you, his dark glare above your head making you wither.

It was four steps towards the big white gate that you could scream through and hopefully be released. It was three steps to his bed where you could cover yourself with his blankets and hopefully give padding to his blows if he wanted to strike. But it was only two steps backwards as your body moved for your back to meet the corner of his room, his towering figure moving you into the small space to make you feel even smaller than you were.

There was something about how he stared, eyes scorching across your exposed skin and mind clearly racing. From the perspective of a killer, you could be seen as cornered prey. But as his hand raised, flattened forward, and found its place on the cold wall above the side of your head—you were only left in a more curious state than before.

And only two sentences could make it past your lips at that moment. "W-Watch your masks."

The man's eyes blinked slowly, processing your words like he had never heard someone be so caring over something that was his. But from your sight, his head leaning down to be at the same level as yours appeared to you like he was going to do something.

"What do you want me to do?" Your words were fast, caught by his ears and held in his mind for just as long as the sentence before was.

The unresponsive man was a mystery to you, his deep eyes running their way up and down your form in response instead of speaking.

Only then did it occur to you of what was on his mind. A man locked behind thick gates and walls had more than just murder on the brain, and he had you all to himself for as long as the clock on his wall clicked to the next big digit.

You could hear his huffs behind his mask, the thickened paper shield only giving you an insight through his eyes and nothing more visually. He sounded like a dog panting over the idea of water, the arm above you moving once he took notice of your eyes trailing his muscles.

You watched his hand move below your chin, his index finger and thumb slowly creating pressure on your windpipe as they clamped down. It wasn't enough to choke you hard, only a warning of knowing your place.

You were in his room, in his space, and it didn't take any knowledge of anything besides natural human nature to know he was telling you that he was in charge right now.

"What do you want me to do?" It was the second time you had asked him that question, and yet your tone lowered to just above a whisper to let him know you genuinely wanted an answer.

You could see his eyes most immersively, the way his pupils dilated at the softness of your voice and even more-so from the message within the question.

You were now both on the same page, his desire for you carnal and your obedience for him an easy read to know that you would do anything for him in this moment just as long as he let you survive the hour.

In a moment's beat, his large hand left your throat and placed atop your head. His fingers curled into your hair to let his nails scrap at your scalp, the lightest push down letting you know the direction he wanted you to move in.

And before you knew it, you were on your knees before him. Breathing as heavy as his own—your shaking hands moved towards his gray sweatpants, pulling at the soft cotton fabric until only his cock was removed. Stiff, larger than you could have ever imagined, and leaking precum just at the slightest touch—your lips pressed into the tip as you grazed him.

The man made no sound except for his steady breathing, your eyes peering up at him for an answer on if you could keep going but the hand on your head seemed to hold you in your place. It didn't take long for you to devise a place, your tongue leaving your hot mouth and flattening to run along the bottom of his length and capture every vein and soft spot he might have.

And finally, he grunted. The hand on your head tightened on your skull, his fingernails digging into your scalp but not breaking the skin. It was clearly the first time he felt anything other than the touch of his own hand, and the man was slowly unfolding on himself.

Your tongue slipped over your bottom teeth to slowly suck him into your mouth, keeping from giving him any discomfort during the act. His body seemed hard, your hands gliding up his calves for one to take hold of the hem of his sweatpants for grip and one on his thick thigh to feel when his muscles clenched from the pleasure.

Your mouth welcomed his large cock, taking it in as much as it could fit before you felt your tongue jolt and his tip hit the back of your throat hard enough to make you gag. You felt his thigh muscle clamp before you heard the noise from his lips, a gurgled moan making you only want to repeat the action to hear it again.

"Mff—" The vibrations of your soft noise around him made him throb in your mouth, more of his precum slipping down your throat and leaving a saltier taste on your tongue as it swirled him.

You wanted to hear the silent man's noises, wanted to hear him fall apart from your mouth and touch, and right as your mouth backed away from his length until you reached his tip and licked at what spilled—you knew you had done even more than that to him.

His grip on the top of your head slid down until he held you by the back of your skull, fingers retaking their secure hold and forcing you back down his shaft. It wasn't the burning sensation from the suddenly used force that made the wetness of your arousal begin staining through your underwear and sweatpants, but the noise that left him in the process.

"Ug—hm" The man seemed to choke on his own breath, enthralled by the way your tongue lapped at him once he was fully back in your mouth.

He was so invested in what little space he gave you to work with once his cock was pressed to the back of your throat. Your tongue pressing at him, catching and memorizing every vein and soft spot that had him fucking deeper into your mouth although he was already too far in. And just when he appeared to reach the thought that he had done enough to you, your compulsion to swallow the amount of saliva and his leaking arousal in your mouth only fed his need more.

The man was delusional, drunk on your mouth as his right hand traded for his left on your head just so the other could slap into the corner wall and hold him upright. You had him almost speaking from the way he garbled his noises, sweat forming on the sides of his face and slowly dripping down to leave a small, wet dot on his clothing, and some even falling onto your own body.

Just as the burn in your neck turned into pain, his left hand began bouncing you on his cock. Your jaw relaxed, tongue keeping with its ability to poke and prod at him before you could fight it no longer and had to swallow around his length. Bobbing, moaning around him, and the slightest bit of saliva that had made it down his length managed to drip from your lips and get splashed onto the base of his cock.

"Fu-Fu—" The man hadn't said words in years, only grunted syllables on his tongue from his own motions. He was using you like a pocket pussy, and it drove him to begin twitching erratically in your mouth. He was seconds away from cumming when he hunched over until his chest was against your head, the thick liquid spurting onto your tongue only driving him into your mouth harder from the extra liquid coating his length.

"Uhmf—" His sounds turned into quiet, low growls as he pumped himself thrice more into your hot mouth. On the third time, he felt your tongue completely drowned by his cum—and your throat urging him to let you swallow it.

You felt like you were on cloud nine having watched a man, so cold and reserved, use you for his desires. His need to feel something warm around him, and he used you.

As you stared up into his glazed eyes, he was watching his cock leave your mouth with a pop. The hand that once held his tall figure up by the strength of the wall now held you by your chin to remind you he is in control. In a moment's time, you felt the rough padding of his thumb connecting with your bottom lip, a gentle rub at the line of your mouth giving you permission to swallow his seed.

The phase of time seemed to end just as soon as it began, Michael's face returning to the blank stare he always showed as his touch left you completely to pull at his pants and cover himself back up. You watched the tall man clamber two steps back to the chair at his desk, his large hand pulling at the old plastic seat just as he sat down and began running his brush back through the glue to work on his mask.

Your thighs trembled below you, quivering with stains of your own body naturally wanting him further from the foreplay displayed in the crotch lines of your sweatpants.

You felt like a whining puppy as you turned your form towards him, scooching closer along the floor towards his sitting frame in the hopes that he would give you some type of attention. Your legs felt weak on the hard tiled flooring, eyes capturing sight of the clock that read plenty of time for him to help you get off, too. But as his head kept forward, eyes meeting every piece of newspaper sliding onto his new mask, his attention completely off you—your hand slipping into your own underwear was nothing on his mind.

Your fingers were ice cold as they pressed past the fabric you wore, capturing some of the extreme wetness the man caused as a reaction within your body and finding all of your sweet spots on the first go. It was only until your fingers curved against yourself that you moaned, watching the man's hand holt in place against the mask he was creating.

You had his attention. Your fingers worked yourself, mind so filled with static and the sensation from the fact that no one had ever gotten you this wound up before—especially when they didn't touch you at all.

You felt pitiful rutting into your own hand for friction. Michael sat away from you, not even a step apart, but he didn't move a muscle. He only listened to your sounds, heard the wetness you used to make yourself even wetter from your own touch—and finally he blinked at your sound when a word slipped from your light-sounding voice.

"M-Michael." He knew, he was well aware of what you were doing. Whether it was touching yourself to get him to touch you again, to maybe raise the same hard finish as he had—or if you were touching yourself with the idea in your mind that your own hand was his—either way, he was intrigued.

The rough pattern you had was nothing of his from before. He had a way of fucking himself with you, not letting you fuck him—and it was driving you to the brink of exhaustion trying to recreate the same cadence he had.

You wanted so badly for him to reach over and grab you, sink his hand into your pants or perhaps toss you over his thigh and let the muscle you felt flexing over and over bring you to your sweet release.

But instead he sat, listening, waiting for you to finish yourself off—no matter if it took the remainder of your time.

Just as your hand grew tired, eagerness turning into lingering touches as you rushed for your own orgasm to overtake you, your knees plowed into the hard flooring. Your hand turned into limited friction as you sat upwards, giving yourself the room to grind your hips back and forth for more force. It was hardly enough on its own, your mind needing more, and a single glance up at Michael gave you just that.

His length had risen again in his sweatpants from just watching you try to get yourself off. His pants turned into deep breaths, you could see his chest rising and falling rapidly as his head turned to watch you fall apart on yourself.

Your hips snapped quickly, one hand trying to keep yourself up and the other trying to apply enough pressure and hold for you to finally cum. And as the white light hit you, Michael's pants almost turned into animalistic noises as you watched his cock throb in the hold of his pants—you finally came.

Thighs clenching, your body fell back onto your folded legs as your eyes shut tight and your mouth cried his name once more. You could almost smell your scent as you rose back into your senses, the smell of sex in the air from the two of you although you didn't have intercourse.

You were minutes away from your time being up when your soaked hand left your pants, cum dripping from your fingers as you panted and tried to think of where to wipe it all off.

You felt so small once more, Michael's quick motion taking you by surprise as he pulled you forward on your knees by your wrist until you were right beside him. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, see the precum staining through his pants again, but nothing was as arousing as what he did next.

The hand that had its fingers covered in glue from him shaping his mask held you by your wrist, his opposite hand moving the mask in closer to you until your cum-soaked fingers were being run along the drying piece. You watched as Michael motioned your hand with his own large touch, your cum beginning to drip and be smoothed onto the paper-mache mask just before he pushed your hand away and began placing more strips of newspaper along your wetness.

And right as the voice in your throat rose to ask questions, beg to know why he wanted a mask that would permanently smell of your love stink—the sound of footsteps and keys jingling halted everything.

Your time with Michael was up.

© scuddisher — all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my permission. do not post my content on other sites, especially claiming them as your own! reblogs and feedback are seriously appreciated <3

#rz michael myers #rob zombie michael myers #michael myers smut #rz michael myers smut #rz michael myers imagines #rz michael myers scenarios #slashers #slasher fuckers #slasher smut #slasher imagines #slasher scenarios #rz michael myers x reader #michael myers x reader #slasher x reader #slasher fandom #slasher x you

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looseratinthegarage · 2 years

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Me: I want you to meet my boyfriend :3

Mom: You’ve said he’s such a sweetheart I can’t wait!

*in walks some horror character*

Entire family:

Me:

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im-his-druidess · 5 months

Note

Hi! im new to your blog so yeah,, but anyways, could you possibly write thomas hewwit, luigi largo, and rz! michael with a goth significant other that loves metal music and horror movies? thank you so much!!!

Thomas Hewitt

Has no idea how to act around you.

Is completely enamored by your bold makeup (if even Luda May complains about it) and is fascinated by your choice in movies.

Find horror movies odd and overly dramatic (he's seen people die. Killed people. They don't really act like that) but he will scavenge for old VHS tapes of horror movies for you.

Likes to watch them with you as you cuddle up to him. Mumbling every so often as he awkwardly yet affectionately pats your head.

Is somewhat frightened of your music, panics when Hoyt starts yelling at you about the loud music, but loves watching you sing along and dance.

Luigi Largo

Isn't phased at all considering his siblings and what he grew up with.

Buys you all the expensive clothing and makeup you could want or even need.

He doesn't mind your style as long as it's expensive. He has a reputation to uphold after all.

Watches movies with you once in a blue moon because he works a lot, but also because some of the movies get him too worked up.

Prefers to have you explain the entire plot in detail either while he works or when you two are eating or about to go to bed.

Definitely finds your music interesting. Likes how invigorating it is and will listen to it sometimes when he's alone.

Michael Myers

Just stares at you for the longest time before poking and smudging your makeup in curiosity.

Finds it interesting and will definitely make masks inspired by your makeup looks to wear around the house.

Doesn't understand your love for horror films, but will begrudgingly sit through them with you.

Don't ask him what he thinks about the movie because chances are he wasn't paying that much attention.

Is curious about your music. Reminds him a bit of the music he listened to as a kid.

Secretly likes when you blast the music up and sing along while cooking or cleaning.

Definitely gets tunes and lyrics stuck in his head and will be irritated the entire time until you play that song again.

Steals clothes or makeup from his victims that he thinks you would like.

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xxslashrrbratxx · 6 months

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#slashers #halloween #horror #digital artist #artists on tumblr #art #artwork #freddy krueger #amanda young #brahms heelshire #billy lenz #behind the mask: the rise of leslie vernon #leslie vernon #rob zombie michael myers #michael myers #leatherface #bubba sawyer #jedidiah sawyer #clone high

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ultrainstinctslasher · 2 years

Text

RZ!Michael Myers x GN!Nurse!Obession Part 2

Warnings: slight violence, death

Note: Thank you for all the support on the first part; I really appreciate it! Finally, part 2 has arrived. Feel free to send in requests, I'm bored as hell. (This is a threat)

______________________________________________________________

Once you accepted the mask Michael gave you, you had practically sealed your future. Your future with him, that is.

If you had thought Michael was clingy before, he's a hundred times worse now.

Before, he would try not to let his infatuation with you all too obvious, especially when it came to Dr. Loomis, since it made him feel vulnerable. But now, he made sure everyone knew not to mess with you.

In his own twisted way, Michael had become your boyfriend of sorts. Not that you knew, of course.

At this point, Dr. Loomis realized what was going on, and honestly didn't know what to do.

He could either leave you to care for him, which could lead to unknown and possibly dangerous outcomes. Or he could fire you, which would most likely lead to even worse outcomes.

But you were breaking the rules by being in a relationship with one of the patients, albeit unknowingly.

So, for once, Loomis decided to do the sensible thing, and fired you.

It had taken you by surprise, and to say you were heartbroken was an understatement.

Although both difficult and odd to admit, you had grown attached to the giant during the time you had taken care of him. It was clear no one had treated him the proper way, the way you treated him, with the way he had grown so attached to you, and it pained you knowing no one would ever treat him like that again.

Yes, he has hurt people, but they'd obviously done something to aggravate him, although you didn't know what.

And during the time you spent with him, you had learned all his small ways of showing emotions. The gleam in his eyes when he was proud, the slight wrinkle next to his eyes when he was happy, as if smiling, the slight twitch in his fingers when annoyed. It was clear no one put in effort to understand him, or else they wouldn't have been calling him an emotionless monster.

If you were heartbroken, then Michael was absolutely destroyed. Thoughts ran through his head like a train. 'Did they leave me?' "Did I do something wrong?' 'Did they get hurt?' 'Are they coming back?'

It wasn't until he overheard two members of staff talking about how Dr. Loomis fired you for no apparent reason that he figured what happened.

As soon as he realized you weren't coming back, Michael completely flipped.

Or, he would've, if he hadn't taken a moment to think first.

This was all Loomis' fault after all, and he needed to get his revenge. If he were to leave now, he might never get to him.

So, Michael waited. And he didn't wait for long.

He refused to eat, leave or even move for what seemed like days, and he knew his beloved doctor would soon come to check in on him.

And come and check in on him did the doctor do.

But Michael knew better, he still refused to move while the two security guards were in the room. Loomis knew that as well.

Once security left the room, Loomis began to talk.

"I understand you're upset, Michael."

No, you don't

"But what you're doing is irrational."

I can do what I want

"I can't have you dying, Michael."

It's not like you care, you want me to die

"And all this over some nurse..."

No, they weren't. They weren't just some nurse.

In a second, Michael had Loomis in a deathly grip against his desk. He squeezed hard enough that Loomis couldn't make a sound, apart from the pitiful 'please' that left his lips.

Michael watched with sadistic glee as the life of his former doctor was fading from his eyes.

While he didn't usually feel anything while murdering his victims, he felt exceptionally pleased while eliminating the man that got in the way of him and his beloved nurse

The thought of letting Loomis live, fully aware that he would come after him and provide him another chance to kill of him, was taken into consideration. That way, he could play around with him more.

But the thought of what he did overruled it. Anyone who does anything remotely negative to you should be disposed of immediately

Once he was sure that Loomis was dead, he turned around to the slightly agape door where the two security guards stayed oblivious to their impending doom.

He was coming for you

___________

You were coming home from your new job, a cashier (you won't believe how annoying it is to downgrade from a literal nurse to a fucking cashier), when you felt a sudden chill down your spine.

You quickly turned around to find the source of the watchful eyes you felt on your back, only to be met with nothing.

It was late at night, and you weren't about to risk being robbed or worse.

So, you ran back home as fast as you could, and yet, even in the safety of your home, you still felt like you were in the proximity of danger

The alarms in your head started blaring once you heard a creak coming from further inside the house, yet you didn't move.

When it came to fight or flight, you froze, which of course as a horrible thing to do

You stood still as a familiar silhouette came into your view, practically filling up the door frame

"M-Michael?"

You hadn't got any verbal response, but a head tilt was all the confirmation you needed.

A part of you wanted to run up and hug him, but the better part of you was still wary of the harm he could bring you

Although you had learned to completely trust Michael, the blood soaking his patient uniform was just a little off putting

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Michael began to slowly walk towards you, as if cautious

Once he finally reached you, he slowly reached his large hand out to your face

Hesitantly, he began to lightly caress it, much to your surprise

Looking up, you lock eyes with Michael, and everything seems to click in place

Why he would only eat from your hand, why he only responded to you, why he killed those security guards, why he gave you that mask

You couldn't believe it took you so long, but as you stood there in the dark with Michael slowly, yet lovingly, caressing your face, you finally realized it

You were his obsession. His nurse. And he would make sure of it.

______________________________________________________________

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issa-pheonyx · 8 months

Note

yandere slasher fics when ?? 👀

maybe rz! mike myers, obviously silent but deadly—willing to do any to please🧎🏽

but honestly i’ll take whatever,, masked yandere slashers currently has me on my knees

can i be🧋anon btw ? you know me mamas ;)

𝗔𝗔𝗔𝗛𝗛 𝗕𝗔𝗘 𝗛𝗜𝗜𝗜!!! 𝗢𝗸𝗮𝘆, 𝗜 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗜'𝘃𝗲 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗹𝗮𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗹𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘁𝗹𝘆, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗺𝗲. 𝗢𝗳 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗯𝗲🧋𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗽𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗥𝗭!𝗠𝗶𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗲𝗹 𝗠𝘆𝗲𝗿𝘀, 𝘀𝗼 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗻𝘀, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗮𝘀 𝗮 𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗹𝘆 𝗻𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗯𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝘃𝗶𝘀𝗶𝘁𝘀 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘀 𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿. 𝗘𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆~🌚

▌│█║▌║▌║ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ ║▌║▌║█│▌

-Of course, growing up Michael's childhood was not easy. He went through shit with his family. Not even at home he is at peace, school was hell too. However, the only person that showed him kindness and respect was you. He found it strange since no one has ever shown that except for his mom and baby sister (yes, she was just a baby, but still a purity of what he never had, to show love for his lil sis), but for it to be a whole stranger? That's new

-Other than that, he would try to build up the courage to even greet you. When it comes to you guys living right by each other he would immediately walk inside the house if he catches you grabbing the mail, you didn't get the chance to wave at him cause he's not outside anymore. Sometimes he would catch you by the windows either downstairs in the kitchen as you're washing dishes doing chores or you're upstairs in your room just staring in awe. In school he would quickly walk pass you by the lockers during break times saying "Hi(Y/N)-" then dips

-On Halloween though he finally confronted you in the morning before heading to school knocking on your door. He was nervous and you were surprised that he is actually there. He asks if you wanted to join him to go trick or treating with his family, you agreed, and there was that. During school hours you both talked about how much you love Halloween and he even asks what you're going to be as. When you confessed he promised to make you a mask that'll look sick and suits the costume...unfortunately it didn't go well

-You were wondering why he was taking long and you attempt to convince your parents that he must be busy making a mask for you, but alas he was outside all bloody, holding his baby sis, cops everywhere, etc. You found out he killed his stepfather, his big sis, and her boyfriend. It shook you to the core and you noticed he was also holding the mask that was suppose to be part of your costume before you guys planned trick or treating...

-When he was put into the asylum it was...tough. Of course, with Michael's quick temper and being above violence it was very complicated amongst his mothers end and you were her support too in need since you were Michael's only friend. It was years now, Michael all grown up and you were Michael's last hope since his mother's passing. You were shitting bricks-you don't even know he looks like now. They had security around and all eyes on him. You sat on the table waiting for him and when you first saw him your eyes widen from how much he really grew and felt intensely eerie from the mask he is wearing and being hunched over from how tall he is

-Lets just say it was both a creepy and awkward conversation. He sit in front of you and you just look at him, nervously, saying: "Hey, buddy...long time no see. Did you, um, make the mask like you promised you would?" He nods, finally a response other than an intimidating glare. "Oh yeah? Will I ever be able to see it?" He slowly glances behind the security then back at you,"Oh! Security wouldn't like that, huh?" He shakes his head. Throughout your timely visits it was typically 'yes' or 'no' questions. That's how you would both communicate

-Eventually, when you planned to visit him again you received a call from his doctor, Samuel Loomis, that Michael has escaped and is roaming free. Killing. You were petrified and he alarmed you to be at home, locked, as safely as possible. That will not work anyway, Michael has a way and will find you. It would be a game at first attempting to make you paranoid that you swore you saw him outside staring at your bedroom window only for him to disappear when you grab your phone to call the police only to check back and he is gone. He will pull these moves to manipulate you, thinking you're just getting it into your head, feeling confident that you're hiding from him very well

-Afterwards...that's when the real game begins. He starts to stalk you everywhere you go-revealing himself that 'yes, it's me, and don't worry no one will find you', demonstrating his classic knife that he is going to kill you...but, he stops. The look of confusion, hesitation, and defeat, He killed the majority of his family, why wouldn't he killed you? You were some sort of hope of his sanity? He grows frustrated and flees when Dr. Loomis finds you both or attracts attention from law enforcements or random citizens

-He acts like and guardian angel, but as death. Whenever there is cat-caller, group of gangs, or little shits stealing or throwing things at you best believe they're dead. The only time you were able to be face-to-face with him is when you try to run away from him and he ends up grabbing you, pinning you against the wall or onto the floor with his knife pierced through the wall. His heavy breathing through the mask was loud and his intensely staring into yours showing fear, but would back off and flee, because he needs to cool off from what was making hot and bothered

-Lastly, when he starts to build up more boldness with the physical interactions with you it seems like his touches becomes more suggestive, rough, and curious. His mind tells him to kill. Kill everyone, even those who were marked into his past. But, he couldn't. His body would react differently as he lets his hands wonder your body, curiously and roughly, and tilts his head hearing you react as you mewl and whimper. Is this...is this what his big sis and boyfriend do? Lets just say it led to more and made you puzzled, yet you felt like you're betraying yourself cause of his big hands roam your body. I mean I don't blame you👀

𝗧𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴! 𝗜 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝘁. 𝗠𝘆 𝘂𝗽𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗱𝗼 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮 𝗳𝗮𝗶𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴. 𝗦𝗹𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹~🖤🫣

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lastchancestardomm · 8 months

Text

I like my men how I like my anime protagonists, traumatized!

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cherry-cola-on-ice · 2 years

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Choke me, Mr. Myers

Michael did always love your throat.

Tagging @brandnewhuman once again for the sake of horny. 18+ gender neutral reader

His fingers traced over the column of your throat, dancing against the skin. He could almost feel the pounding of your heart and each nervous hitch of breath.

Michael Myers thought you looked beautiful like this. On your knees, kneeling down in front of him. Hands behind your back, tried together with the silken, red scarf.

Submissive, just how he liked you.

Looking up at him, big eyes watery. His cock, angry and throbbing, was heavy against your tongue. You could taste his bittersweet precum as you whimpered. Every movement you made sent the vibrating, silicone cock further into your aching hole.

Michael brushed tears off your cheek, gathering them up on his fingertips. He brought those tear-covered fingers to his mouth, almost tasting the desperation you felt. It was absolutely delicious to see you this horny.

Michael nodded his head, and you wasted no time in taking him into your mouth.

Michael bucked his hips, fists curled at his sides. You weren't ready for him yet. Not really. But the more your hot, wet mouth worked his cock, the harder it was for him to control himself.

And the way you were looking up at him didn't help. Staring up at him, coming off his cock with a pop. Giving his cock little kitten licks.

To make up with the lack of hands, you kissed around his hip bones and down to his base. Michael felt his breath hitch in his throat as you nuzzled your face against his shaft, using your nose to push his cock up. You gave the underside a long lick, moaning.

"I just want to make you feel good, Michael. "

It was music to his ears. That's all he wanted, for you to want him. His cock throbbed against your cheek. You laughed, taking him back into your mouth.

Your mouth began to pick up at a quicker pace. When the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, Michael gasped, his hands grabbing the back of your head. You breathed out from your nose, trying to keep yourself from gagging.

Above you, you could hear a Michael's beautifully gruff voice cursing. He shoved your head futher down as his cock pushed deeper into your mouth.

Drool formed around the corners of your mouth and Michael let go of the back of your head to reach down. He used his fingers to spread the drool around over your lips. It was his way of trying to relieve some discomfort for you.

Michael's eyes shifted back into yours, his balls tightening almost painful to the mere sight of your doe eyes. You moved your head up and down, as if you weren't considering your mouth as nothing else but an object for his release. His own personal cumdump.

"Don't...sallow-" He groaned again as gave his cock a suck "Till.. I say so."

He stopped your mouth from movinghis hands once again hold tight to your head, thrusting his cock in your mouth at a blisteringfast pace. Your eyes rolled back into your head, barley making out the sound of his voice.

"...I'm...cumming- Ugh!"

Michael's hot cum filled your mouth to the brim and he used this to his advantage. He pulled you in closer, to the point of your nose being buried within his curly, blonde hairs. Michael swore and cursed, more words than you think you ever heard him mutter.

He pulled away and it took every ounce of willpower for you not to cough. He sunk down to the floor in front of you, tapping your jaw "Wanna look..."

You obeyed, opening your mouth. You proudly showed him his cum sitting in your mouth. You got a short-ended laugh from him as he patted your cheek, and leaned in closer to your face, spitting into your mouth.

You felt like a degenerate as your own orgasm shot through your body, your own climax pooling underneath your quivering body. Michael clicked his tongue "..swallow. "

You did as you were told, swallowing all that Michael had blessed you with in a exaggerated way. Opening your mouth with his fingers, Michael nodded, before standing up.

He gave your head a affectionate pat, turning away and heading out the door.

Leaving you alone, on the brink of another orgasam. With that silicone cock still deep in.

#michael myers x reader #michael myers smut #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #michael myers x y/n #halloween movie #rob zombie michael myers #gender neutral y/n

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gogotti · 10 months

Text

The boogeyman gets sad too

Michael Myers/Reader

warnings: none, but fic includes you caring for a sad Michael who just needs to be held. OOC obviously, but who doesn't like soft Michael?

The sound of the lock on your backdoor being broken off had you sighing, you let your head fall onto your arms and your eyes fall closed, and perfectly pictured your routine of buying a new lock, wishing that you could just think it into existence. Opening your eyes and not seeing your new lock magically in front of disappointed you slightly, and you half wished you had the guts to tell Michael to go find the money to repay you. Turning around from your position leaning against the counter, you watch Michael throw open your door and you recoil from the sound. ‘There's another complaint from the neighbors.’

He slams it shut and his head slowly turns toward you, his heavy breaths moving the mouth part of the mask in an almost comical way and if he wasn't in such a shitty mood you would have laughed. You knew not to, as there would only be the kitchen island keeping him from slaughtering you where you stand. And maybe the fact that he sorta-kinda liked you, but right now you couldn't guarantee that he’d think of that. You wanted to run, your baser survival instincts kicking in like they did occasionally, but you stayed put, knowing that's why Michael liked you in the first place. You were the only person who didn't bother running from him and at first, it was frustrating, but soon after it became interesting to him. How come you weren't scared of him? After a certain point, he could care less about that and was more interested in what you were cooking that night.

Your first meeting was a stare-off, him waiting for you to run so he could get the thrill of chasing after you, and you waiting for him to pounce so you didn't have to go to work the next morning. It lasted around ten minutes before he threw a small hissy fit and walked out, leaving you there in shock and confusion. He kept coming back, each time you two ended up staring at each other. Eventually, when you were able to somewhat recognize a pattern of his intrusions, (which at that point had cost you well over a hundred dollars in locks) you left a small offering of leftovers and sweets on the kitchen island. He took your offerings and peace was finally a guarantee and not an option, as long as you kept feeding him that is.

You knew now that food would not quell this beast, you don't even think that sex could get him to calm down, and you were very grateful for that; you wanted to go out tomorrow and walking was needed for the adventure you had planned. He slammed the door shut and walked toward you, your heart racing in beat with his loud, rushed steps. He trapped you against the counter, lowering his head toward your ear, just out of your vision, and tearing off his mask. He continued to huff into your ear, the longer he sat there just doing that made you realize just how fucked he was feeling at the moment. He never hesitated to take you when he wanted, just like if he wanted to hurt you, which normally consisted of him marking you by biting up your shoulders and neck, he would just do it; not sit there and… breathe.

You raised a hand and placed it on his cheek, “Michael, what's wrong baby?”

He sighed, letting his knife drop to the floor with a loud clang that startled you. He immediately pulled away when he felt you jump, speed-walking off into your shared bedroom and slamming the door behind him. It only took you moments to take off and shoot up the stairs, hoping he hadn't already barricaded himself in. Thankfully you managed to squeeze through the door before he could throw the dresser in front of it, and you threw yourself in front of him, watching him stop in, what looked like, rage. You knew he wasn't pissed, but he was definitely upset. You reached up to put your hand back on his cheek but he didn't lean down to reach you, instead, he just stared down at you, his hair obscuring his face like it normally did.

“Michael, I didn't expect you to drop the knife. I’m not scared, I promise.” You walked toward him, gently pushing him backward toward the bed and stopping just before he could fall. “Can you tell me what's wrong? I can only help if I know the problem.”

He didn't move for a bit, so you took this as a sign to continue, hoping that you could get him comfortable enough to draw out whatever was troubling him, the only way of communication you two had established. You reached up for his zipper and he grabbed your hand softly. You shook your head, knowing exactly what he thought you were going to do. You knew he assumed you were going to suck his troubles away like you normally did, but instead, you shook your head and spoke, “I know baby. I know you don't want that right now.” You smiled up at him with a reassuring glance, “I want you comfortable, not naked.”

He let his hand fall and let you continue what you were doing, taking off his blood-soaked overalls, undoing his boots and helping him out of them, taking his shirt off and replacing it with a cleaner one. Slowly but surely he was left in just a shirt and his boxers, his perfect comfy combo, and you could finally push him back into bed. You climbed in next to him, letting him get comfortable on his back while you remained sitting up, fondly looking him over as he lay there. You cupped his cheek once again, just watching for a reaction.

It took awhile but soon he closed his eyes and leaned into your palm, you couldn't help but frown and let out a soft, “Oh, sweetheart…”

You did your best to adjust him so he was laying his head on your chest, but he got tired of your fidgeting and did it himself. He was face first in your breasts and you didn't do anything but pet his hair softly.

There was no movement from him for the next few hours, you couldn't help but wish he’d talk, you wanted him to tell you all his problems so you could fix them one by one, just so he wouldn't have to feel like this again. You would have scoffed at that thought any other time, but now, seeing the big bad Michael Myers, a man who strikes fear into everyone's hearts, holding onto you for dear life and being vulnerable, worried you.

After a while you sofly spoke, “Michael?”

He hummed. Good, he was feeling somewhat better, at least it was enough to respond and you hoped it was enough to get him to eat something as well.

“Why don't we go get something to eat, hm?”

He hummed again, this time moving just enough for you to slip out from under his grasp. You watched as he lay flat on his face again, knowing that he wasn't reading to get up just yet. You quickly made your way back into the kitchen and maneuvered around quickly to pull out the ingredients for a quick and easy meal. It wasn't soon after that you heard his heavy footsteps come down the stairs, causing you to smile. When you had your back turned this relationship was somewhat normal. Your large boyfriend was coming downstairs, only to latch onto you from behind and cement you in your spot for a bit. Only when you looked up and saw the emotionless look on his face, did you recognize it as the one they would show on the news in the mornings.

It didn't keep you from smiling though, so you did, and you gently reached up and pushed his head down to meet you in a kiss. You felt him huff against your lips when you separated, and you were sure he would call you insane for kissing a man who was soaked in blood mere hours before, but he didn't talk, so (most of the time) he didn't judge. You continued on with the meal, letting him “sneak” pieces of meat and other things when he thought you weren't looking, and when you finished the food you watched him take his meal and scarf it down like he was starving. You wouldn't doubt that he was, he had been gone longer than normal and he didn't eat anything but your cooking, not even takeout.

For once, he patiently waited for you to finish your food before picking you up and taking you back to your bedroom, carefully placing you on the bed and getting right back into his previous position. You just smiled, knowing that with the small nip at your breast, he was feeling much better.

It's surprising what a good meal and some affection can do for the boogeyman.

#rz michael myers #michael myers #rob zombie michael myers #slashers x reader #slashers x y/n #halloween #x reader

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