#rock bottom fic ☠️

[toxicanonymity]

Rock Bottom Ch 6: Rock Hard

3.1k | Corey x Y/N, Corey x Y/N x Michael x Corey x Y/N | NSFW

Summary: They just can't help themselves 🥵

She turns off the flashlight and slowly holsters it along with her gun.  She takes a deep breath, mesmerized by Corey's disheveled, aroused state. 

Rock Bottom Index - All Chapters

Check out the art by @cordelium from Ch 5. commissions please don't repost their work without permission.

@ethanhoewke @kuromi2005 @rebel-blue @wolvesandvampires

18+ MDNI

_______________________

Corey watches (Y/N) survey the scene and prays she arrived alone.  

Seeing her in uniform takes him back to 2019 when she felt him up at the courthouse.  Corey now suspects that before she met Michael, she didn't desperately crave criminal cock.  He wonders if she was miserable like him or had a good life. He wonders what her first time with Michael was like.  He can still taste Michael's cock in his mouth, and his jaw is pleasantly sore. 

Her flashlight illuminates Dr. Mathis on the ground. She kicks him to make sure he's dead - probably not Sheriff's Office protocol.  She bends down and puts her fingers on the doctor's pulse through the dry-cleaning bag.  Corey quietly stands up, but stays doubled over, holding his bloody hand and pressing his wrist into his stiff, aching shaft. 

She's still looking at the doctor, inspecting the scene curiously. Her hand goes to her radio.   

"He was a bad guy," Corey interrupts.  His voice is even lower and more gravely than usual.   

She stands and whips around toward him. "Cunningham, is that you?"  Her light shines on him.

She touches her radio and says, "False alarm."  It beeps.  She comes closer and starts to ask, "What are you-" when she looks through the glass sliding door to the bedroom and sees Deb, the nurse, pinned to the wall. 

Her eyes widen and she steps closer to the sliding door.  "He was here."  She turns to face Corey more directly.  He raises an arm to shield his eyes from the light and she lowers it.  The light falls down his blue sweater and lands on his unbuttoned pants.  Her eyebrows shoot up, intrigued.  

She turns off the flashlight and slowly holsters it along with her gun.  She takes a deep breath, mesmerized by Corey's disheveled, aroused state.  The look on her face says his cock is the only thing in the world that matters right now.  He follows her gaze to the swell in his briefs peeking out from his unbuttoned pants.  

She approaches and stands right up against him.  He doesn't budge.  She grabs his ass.  Her uniform pants glide smoothly against his engorged briefs while her belt digs into his hip bones.  Corey begins to breathe heavier.  Before he knows it, his hands are unbuttoning her uniform top.  And she lets him.  No hesitation this time.  

Corey pauses and meets her eyes.  "Yeah, he was here," he tells her. "And you don't know Michael as well as you think." 

"Why's that," she asks quietly in his ear, uninterested.   She pulls him against her and grinds into him.  He swells harder and she exhales with a soft moan.  

"I sucked his cock," Corey says.

She laughs into his neck and her breath is warm on his skin.  Corey sniffs.  

She pulls back to look at him, and her smile fades when she sees his watery eyes. 

"Holy shit." For a moment, she looks like she's seen a ghost, but one she'd like to fuck.      

"Yeah," Corey says.  "It was. . ." His lip trembles.  

"Yeah," she says softly, looking into his eyes. 

She looks at him warmly and touches his cheek. There's a hint of sympathy but mostly wonder.  She closes her eyes and kisses his lips.  When she looks at him again, her eyes are wild.  She licks her lips and takes a deep breath.  She walks Corey up against the glass door. 

She breathes heavily, looks back and forth between his eyes, cradles his head with one hand, and kisses him desperately, like she wants to suck something out of him.  

She reaches into his briefs. 

"God,"  she says half into his mouth when she feels his naked girth.   

He thrusts into her hand. He's still painfully hard and her soft skin feels so good.  She pulls his cock out and steps back enough to marvel at it, then  lowers herself to her knees.  She admires it head on then wraps her lips around it.  She takes it halfway into her mouth and sucks. A pang of pleasure shoots through his gut. After only a moment, she stops to lustily admire it again.  She licks it up and down and massages it slowly in her hand as it weeps.  She sucks up his pre-cum and starts to take him into her mouth again, then stops. 

"No," she says, her brow furrowing as she thumbs the swollen head.  "I need you inside me."  

Corey inhales deeply. 

Her face is flushed and her chest heaves under her unbuttoned uniform. "Right now," she says to his cock, then looks up at Corey before standing.  She grabs a tool from her belt and pries open the glass door.  She holds it open for Corey and unbuckles her belt with the other hand. 

Corey undresses then sits at the foot of the bed, massive erection throbbing in one hand against his abdomen.

Her cheeks grow even rosier as she admires the pool of blood under Michael's artwork while pulling off her boots.  She puts the gun on the bed and lets the weight of her belt and holster send her pants to the floor with a thud.  She takes the radio off, turns it down, and throws it in the pile.    

She walks up between Corey's knees. He lets go of his cock and she grabs it while he pulls down her soaked underwear, then feels her with his thick fingers. 

Corey wants her so bad his face hurts, but he feels guilty about last time.  "Are you sure?" He asks. 

"God, yes," she says, and the breath in her voice leaves no doubt that she means it. 

She spreads her knees wide to straddle Corey’s broad frame on the bed. "You're right.  I guess I don't know him."  

Corey swallows. 

"He wants you alive," she adds.

She grabs his cock and massages her clit with it, breathing heavily. 

"You really sucked him off," she says, shaking her head.  "That's so fucking hot." She looks like she means it. 

She positions his swollen tip for entry. Corey's brow furrows.  He wets his lips as his large hands knead her hips.  

"Are you sure?" She asks. 

Between heavy breaths, he manages to say, "I'd die happy."  

Her wet heat begins to engulf the head of his cock. He groans and pulls her hips down.  

Her tight cunt sinks onto him and she gasps as her insides make way for his girth.  Corey thrusts his hips up and she moans.  She feels so hot, so wet, so snug. He can feel every ridge of her walls. She begins to rise up and he pulls her down harder.  His breath hitches as he bottoms out.  They grind their hips in rhythm.  

Red and blue lights flash in the fog outside and Corey's heart jumps into his throat. He freezes and his large hands force her still on his cock. 

"Is back-up coming?" He asks her.  

She doesn't even look. Her eyes are barely open.  "We're good, just fuck me," she begs, rolling her hips into him.

Corey wants nothing more than to do just that, but lights are definitely flashing outside.  

"A car's here," he insists.  She turns to look but the light cuts off before she can see it. 

She sighs and reaches for the gun. "Leave the look-out to me, okay? Fuck me, then we’ll get out of here." 

She rises halfway up his cock then sinks back down with a moan and starts rolling into him again.  She puts her wrists behind his head, holding the gun in one hand and fingering his curls with the other as she rides him.  Corey lets her, but he's hesitant. Law enforcement is definitely on the property.  

"Fuck me like you mean it," she demands.  She takes his chin in her hand.  "Now." She's not asking. 

She pauses to rip off her undershirt and bra.  Then she starts moving her hips again, her eyes drifting from the window to the artwork.  She takes a deep breath and begins riding him full-throttle, moaning.  

It feels too good. Corey closes his eyes and they kiss sloppily – So much for the look-out.  He kneads her asscheeks and already feels like he could come any second.  

A noise outside startles him. 

"It's nothing," she says, incapable of caring about anything but his cock inside her.  She keeps riding him. A rush of pleasure shoots from his balls, through his chest, to his throat. His ass clenches and he erupts inside her, his strong arms wrapping around her back.  He buries his mouth in her neck to keep from making noise. She moans quietly with each pulse of his enormous load. When his balls are empty, Corey slows to a halt. Any other time, he'd be committed to making her come. 

"No, no, no, PLEASE don't stop," she begs. She's practically crying. 

Corey feels bad.  She's already such a hot mess, how long could it possibly take her to come?  What's more, if he's honest with himself, he feels so much safer with her walls around his cock, even in this hazardous situation.  He hopes she'll finish quickly.

"Yeah," he pants.  "Just a sec." Her hips move and his large hands still her.  

She twitches around him and he groans from the overstimulation, but a loud crash cuts him off.  Corey reflexively tightens his arms around her.  They sit frozen on the bed.  

There's a scuffle, a man groans, and something clatters to the ground.  

Corey starts to whisper, “should we-”

"Shhh. Don't move," she says. 

They stay perfectly still for what feels like five minutes.  His cock twitches inside her and her nipples harden against his pecs.  

They hear footsteps.  She lets Corey's cock slide out and slowly leans back to peer across the room.  His hands on her hips keep her from falling off him.   The blood rushes to his pounding heart and head.  Both of them stay frozen, looking toward the sound.   

-

The footsteps resume and get closer, heavier.  

A shadow appears.

Then a shape.

It's Michael Myers.   

***

Michael enters the room with a knife in one hand and something else in the other.  He stops to observe the scene, sniffing the air like an animal.  Corey should be afraid, but he feels a rush of life and arousal.  

Michael approaches the bed from the side, with Corey and (Y/N) both frozen on the foot of the bed, breathing heavily.  She's still straddling Corey.  

Michael observes them like one of his art installations, then tosses two Sheriff's Office badges onto the bed next to them.  Michael stares at the badges, then at them, as though to say, "you're welcome."

His boots thud as he slowly steps to the foot of the bed to stand in front of them.  She begins to dismount Corey, but Michael stops her with the flat of his knife on the nape of her neck.  Her nipples pucker.  Corey keeps his arms around her and watches Michael.  There's a prominent bulge in Michael’s suit.  

Michael breathes deeply and slowly.  He begins to  unzip his own jumpsuit.  She hears the zipper and looks at Corey with her eyes wide.  Corey’s cock rapidly hardens against her clit, and her eyes close with a gasp.  Corey can’t tell if she’s scared or excited until she rubs herself against Corey's cock.   She’s so warm and slick.  Even wetter than before.  

Corey swells back to full mast with a shudder. He doesn’t dare move.  He glues his eyes to Michael's unzipped uniform.  Michael’s breath gets louder and his monster cock falls out.  It almost seems to glisten.  

-

Corey is still sitting there with (Y/N) straddling his lap.  Michael steps forward and spreads his feet to either side of Corey’s, looming over them.  Michael’s large hand on her back pushes both of them down. Corey lies flat while she hugs him with all fours.  

Michael huffs, bends his knees, and his hand presses down on the small of her back.  He lets his cock fall between her legs and graze Corey’s balls, sending a shockwave through Corey.  Michael slickens himself with their combined mess, then aligns himself, holds her down, and plunges into her ass.  

Her eyes go wide, her mouth falls open, and she grunts as she’s propelled forward, wetly dragging up Corey’s shaft.  She reaches down and nestles Corey's tip in her front door and he gasps.  

Michael retreats slightly, then he pulls her back hard onto both of them and she groans.  Her cunt is so tight on Corey’s cock with Michael in her ass.  Through her thin membrane, Corey feels Michael's every groove and vein right up against his own. It's unlike anything he's ever felt before or even knew he could feel.  He rests his hands on her back and gazes into the holes of the mask, taking it all in.  

Michael puts his hands down on the bed. He pulls back, then thrusts into her harder, and Corey feels every inch of his monster cock push by.  Michael hovers over them, his mask making eye contact with Corey.  Corey starts fucking her warm, wet cunt in sync with Michael's rhythm. Corey pulls back while Michael pushes in.  

Their bodies drift back toward the headboard.  The mattress sinks under Michael’s weight as he kneels on the bed, straddling Corey’s legs, and they keep fucking.  With every thrust into her, Michael’s cock firmly strokes Corey’s, and every time, a pang of pleasure shoots through Corey’s ass. 

Corey thought his wildest dream was to fuck Michael, but he never could have imagined the intimacy of this moment, feeling the rock-hard silhouette of Michael's cock drag against his own, hot and wet, their balls meeting, the mask gazing down at him. 

Their three bodies blur together in synchronicity.    Corey grunts and Michael breathes.  She groans and wails as she’s fucked by both killers at the same time.  They continue pounding her, their shafts sliding against each other through her thin wall.  

Michael audibly grunts, making Corey’s balls jerk.  Corey doesn’t want to finish yet, but the next time the shape drags against him, it’s too late.  Corey pulsates powerfully as he comes. Michael keeps fucking her, rubbing against Corey's cock, slapping into his slowly emptying balls.  Corey groans at the overstimulation.  

Her walls contract and she moans into Corey's neck.  Michael doesn’t let up.  The rhythm of his hard, veiny length keeps Corey coming longer than he ever has.  Corey groans loudly and she wails. They sound like wild animals as they come together while Michael remains relentless. 

Corey tries to kiss her but Michael grabs both her wrists, pulling her chest up and away.  He holds her arms out.  Her breasts quake as she finishes coming. Then, her head bows in exhaustion and she silently cries, tears falling onto Corey.  She and Michael look like an obscene crucifix.  As her convulsions fade, he lets her collapse onto Corey.  

Michael pulls out, still absurdly erect, but Corey stays inside her.  Safe, comfortable, protected.  

***

Corey is just beginning to catch his breath when his legs are forced open by Michael kneeling between them.  His whole body erupts in goosebumps.  Michael drags his cock through the frothy blend trickling down Corey's balls, then his wet tip probes Corey’s entrance.  Corey is instantly rock hard again inside (Y/N).  She whimpers and stays wrapped around Corey’s body, enrobing his hard cock. Michael’s arms wrap around Corey’s thighs. 

Michael yanks Corey back on his wet cock, breaching the tight, virgin ring of muscle.  Corey hears his own groan echo through the house before he can fully process that this is really happening.  Michael plunges into him again.  When the swollen tip hits Corey’s prostate, Corey feels like God is physically touching his soul.  His eyes sting with tears. 

Michael's powerful thrusts into Corey propel (Y/N) up Corey’s cock, then she sinks back down as Michael retreats. The three of them move as one machine with Michael as the engine.  Corey feels something building deep inside him.  

She moans into Corey's neck and the flat of her teeth press into his skin as Michael’s rhythm bounces her on Corey’s cock.  Corey’s prostate throbs harder and harder.  He's never been this hard, and he can hear it in her whimpers. 

Her tight, wet cunt massages his cock while Michael destroys his hole and rearranges his insides.  Michael shows no signs of fatigue.  The pressure builds more and more and Corey savors every second.  

Something explodes deep within Corey, sending several pulsing waves through his body before his cock erupts again.  He groans as the most intense rush overwhelms him and he pulsates enormously inside her.  She cries out and contracts around him. She bites his neck and moans into him. 

Michael twitches inside Corey and inhales sharply.  Michael grunts, then softly groans as his cock pumps violently into Corey, and Corey keeps coming.  

There’s a whole galaxy flowing between them, with Michael’s unfathomable load emptying into Corey and Corey’s into her.  Michael stays still and quiet as he finishes, while she and Corey writhe and moan into each other. 

Michael pulls out and drops Corey’s legs, then zips up.  He stands by the bed and picks up his knife, gripping  the handle, blade-down.  For a moment, Corey thinks this might be the end of his life.  But Michael observes them for a few seconds, then walks out. 

***

Corey quietly sobs.  A week ago, he had nothing and no idea what he wanted.  He was too tired to dare to dream.  Michael plucked him from the edge of death and gave him new life, purpose, and want.  And now he's made Corey's dreams come true, and more.    

Corey is euphoric.  Life makes sense.  He's struck by the interconnectedness of everything and everyone and every little moment.  For the first time, he's glad Jeremy Allen died that night.  He's glad he was bullied and tormented for three years.  He's happy to be the psycho.  He's proud to be Haddonfield's other Boogeyman.  Because all of that brought him to this moment right here. 

-

(Y/N) gently coaxes Corey into leaving.  First, they strip the bed and take the linens.  There are two dead cops - one in the kitchen, one outside.  The one outside is face down in the pool in a giant cloud of red.

He makes her swear not to burn, dump, or even wash the linens.  He wants to keep them forever.  She's obviously just pacifying his post-coital psychosis when she agrees, but he still appreciates it.  

She calls the scene in to dispatch as if she had the wrong address before. Then, Corey leaves on his motorcycle.  He clenches his ass as he rides, wanting to keep Michael's seed inside as long as possible.  

#toxicanonymity ☠️ #corey cunningham smut #michael myers smut #michael myers x reader #corey cunningham x reader #rock bottom ch 6 #rock bottom fic #corey cunningham x michael myers #michael myers x you x corey cunningham #michael myers x corey cunningham #corey cunningham x y/n #michael myers x y/n #corey cunningham #michael myers #bisexual!corey cunningham #bisexual!michael myers #sluttified!corey cunningham #sluttifier!michael myers #sluttified!y/n #michael myers x you #corey cunningham x you #halloween #rock bottom fic ☠️

[zuc6]

HEY! 😎 im a new fic writer, well like- not new but this is my first time writing like a introduction kinda thing so: (not proofread ☠️)

UPDATE AT THE BOTTOM FOR THOSE WHO'VE ALREADY SEEN THIS POST!! 😁😁😁

Hi, im vee. Just vee. Not short for any name or anything, my pronouns are she/they (afab🤙). i like to write oddly specific fan fiction that i dont necessarily see a lot 🦾

Im 17, 6'2 (the hoes gon loooove this), and here are some things im open to writing for

(ALSO feel free to leave requests i love other people's ideas)

Stranger Things

i WILL write for stranger things characters but im open to aging some up but if im uncomfortable im just like..not gonna...do it..

DEFINETLY open to writing like Joyce x Fem!Reader, since i havent seen that yet

Especially Milfs. Milfs 4ever.

CHARACTER POV'S, I've noticed in fics theyre usually from the readers perspective so its like only what the reader thinks of whatever character. Now while i like that i think itd be super fun to throw in what the character thinks of reader. like what they think of you, what they like, what the notice, shit like that!

The Last Of Us

WOOP i love the last of us. by the last of us i mean ellie williams and abby anderson

Im open to Ellie smut, Abby smut, Ellie AND Abby smut, whatever you want fr.

obviously not open to writing smut of minors so if you just so happened to let the thought cross your mind, no 😓

Idk how i feel about Joel x Reader shit considering Joel is like grandpappy but ive seen a lot of people open to it so dont lose hope if u were wondering

Euphoria

OK DONT BUG OUT im not like gonna write shit about underage characters like i said before

If you guys want euphoria shit tho im open to like angst or fluff mainly with like rue because obviously drugs rahrahrah

or like imagine being Fez's younger sister (only by like a year) Like fluff bond with Ash, showing him affection when hes not used to it, being close to rue bc drugs rahrahrah and like sister in law relationship with Lexi ykyk?

(i cant think of shit else)

Random shit ill write:

Reader listening to rock and being an epic hottie

Reader playing instrumentssss

I lean more towards Fem or Gn reader but i will do male reader dw

Reader being emo 😎 jk like metal lover reader

I will of course leave room for imagination but also include like Reader outfit photos

Reader having good sense of music, style, being shy, anxiety, panic attacks, angsty feelings, drama and trauma oooo

pet names

bold, punk, jerk or like asshole reader

Lots of aus, and like modern au bc im annoying

i was thinking of doing like a crossover of like Robin x Vickie but Vickies past is Anne with an E since theyre the same actor yk? it would be difficult to figure out since the timelines in each are so different

anything u want

will NOT write:

age play, baby talk, annoyingly cliche submissive shit, get that shit out of here

i wont romanticize domestic violence or make light of abusive relationship dynamics, hell noooo 🙅🏽‍♀️

Emotional whiplash, i want things to make sense

animal play. if you wanna be a bunny demon angel wolf hybrid please screw off 😭

Any kinks im uncomfy w (ex. piss kink 😦) ill let u know what im not okay with writing

tbp smut ☠️☠️

OKAY HI i wrote this and got extremely busy and just fucking like bonked out so here i am returning. i was gonna delste this account and make a new one because i didnt wanna like write this, disappear, and then come back and act like i never left sooo im back woop woop!

I HAVE GREAT NEWS THO! during my time away i found a new interest to latch myself onto and write about... and that isss...

THE BLACK PHONE

WOOOOOOOO I LOVE THIS MOVIE!!! and rinney is so fucking cool. i love those little gays, man

rinney fluff and angst is needed so bad i love them with my soul, man

gonna say this once again, im not gonna write smut about kids so pLEASE if any minor hunters read all the way down here just for that, take this moment to consider jumping out of the highest window possible 🙏

fix-it au's and modern au's are gonna be my main go to when writing tbp content because i uh... suck...at writing fics that take place in the fucking 70's in denver ☠️

FIX-IT AU, like finney getting another chance is so good im foaming at the mouth. im currently obsessed with @starsthatlinethesky 's fic on that so (PLEASE) go check that shit out its so good!

brance, MAYBE, most likely. i love bruce hes so sweet and vance is cool so i probably will write shit about those little gay men

terrance and finney's mom place swap. i want to write about finney and gwen being able to be happy without terrance and his destruction so hes getting erased at least once or twice 😊

gwen pov fics since i havent seen a lot of that

stranger things x tbp crossovers are so cool. like finney/will where will moves for whatever reason w his dad after season 2 or 3 since itd make the most sense. i love that shit

not writing smut but i probably will age everyone up a bit once or twice 🤘

i dont know if im gonna end up making x reader shit but if i do, reader isnt gonna be a preppy giddy child, theyre gonna be a punk, an asshole, a badass, closed off and overall AWESOME. you're welcome 🤗

other than that its pretty much fine, if u have any other like show ideas i might be open to write for hmu in the requests babeee MWA MWA

-Vee

#ellie williams x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader smut #stranger things fanfiction #abby tlou #ellie tlou #tlou part 2 #tlou x reader #euphoria #rue bennet x reader #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #ellabs #finney blake #billy showalter #the last of us #griffin stagg #the grabber #bruce yamada #robin arellano #the black phone fic #the black phone #finbin #tbp vance #tbp bruce #tbp x reader

[meltwonu]

12. “Don’t be so rough. there cant be any marks.”

13. “I really don’t care. You still look hot and i’m trying not to kiss/fuck you senseless right now.”

72. “You don’t need to cover up the bruises/hickeys.”

notes; idol!jeonghan, manager!reader, brat!(cocky)jeonghan, dirty talk, degradation, cum eating, dacryphilia(crying) kink. First off daylight savings has my ass kicked completely dkjdjf ☠️ also for those of u that don’t have to deal with it, that just means that my fic posting time (7PM PST) might look weird to yall since we shifted forward an hour!! and second of all i love the ‘manager trying to tame an unruly idol’ trope so bad LMAO 😭💕 idk what it is but it do be hittin different 😮‍💨😮‍💨 As always, thank you so much for requesting! Enjoy! 💕

*queued post.

“D–don’t be so rough… There c-can’t be any marks…”

Jeonghan can only chuckle against your skin; breath hot and muffled as he laps at the column of your neck before nibbling on the skin.

“I really don’t care... You still look hot and I’m trying to not fuck you senseless right now.”

He grinds against you - cock straining against his stage pants as you mewl and tremble against the makeup vanity he had you pressed up against.

Jeonghan had a reputation for being flirty amongst the idols and you’d been assigned to be his manager - although, you’d quickly learned why all of his previous managers had quit within the first week that you’d spent with him.

“S–stupid, you–you have to f-finish getting your makeup d-done and–and do rehearsals…”

“So? We have time. C’mon, manager, play with me~ Or would you rather I go find someone else to play with, hmm?”

Your cheeks are warm and the slight annoyance that comes with Jeonghan’s comment makes you bite your bottom lip.

He knew how to push every single one of your buttons.

“This is w-why you’re always getting in trouble, ‘Han…” Mumbling, your eyes follow Jeonghan’s blonde head until he pulls back and his lust-filled eyes are meeting your own.

He smirks; hands already on the waistband of your skirt as you gasp.

“If it makes you feel any better, I haven’t had to go find someone else to play with since you became my manager~ So, I’d like to think you’re doing your job quite nicely~”

“Ngh… Fuh–fuck…”

Your body rocks between the vanity and Jeonghan’s own body as you avoid staring at your blissed out face in the mirror - Jeonghan’s cocky smirks and teasing chuckles making your entire body shiver.

“Everyone praises you, y’know?” Jeonghan angles his thrusts perfectly so that the head of his cock slams into your g-spot. “They always talk about how good you are at your job - how good you were for ‘taming’ me since I was gettin’ a little too… troublesome~ It’s so cute~”

You bite down on the sleeve of your shirt to keep in your loud cries; walls clamping down on his cock with each sharp snap of his hips.

“Ah, but what would they do if they knew that it was me ‘taming’ you, princess? Always spreading those pretty legs of yours for me so we can play~ I’ve fucked your pretty ‘lil cunt in every room of this building, haven’t I?”

“J–Jeonghan... Ngh, pl–please...”

Your words and pleas are muffled against the fabric of your sleeve - tears gathering on your waterline when you start to feel his cock throbbing inside of you.

“Always so ready for me - so fuckin’ wet and hot when I slide my cock into your pussy... Once rehearsals are over, I wanna play with you again, okay~? I’m gonna cum so deep inside this cunt right now and I want you to be good and make sure to not let a single drop go to waste~”

You let out muffled cries as his pace doubles; walls clenching around him hard when you feel him starting to cum inside of you. 

“J–Jeonghan, mmngh...!”

The warmth spreads inside of your body as he unloads all of his cum inside of you and it’s enough to throw you over the edge as you follow suit and cum with him - unable to mask your cries as you double over against the vanity.

“Ah, you feel so good, princess~ Sucking my cock in deeper while you cum with me~ Show me how good you feel~” He teases.

You let out choked cries as blissful tears stream down your face; thighs shaking as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm until the two of you are finally coming down.

But Jeonghan doesn’t stop there when he forces your head up - your eyes meeting your fucked out expression in the mirror as you hiccup.

“Aww, look at how cute you look crying from me fucking you so good, princess~” 

He leans over your shoulder; lips kissing the shell of your ear as you moan tiredly.

A stuttered breath leaves your lips when you feel him slowly pull out - his fingers quickly at your entrance as he thrusts two of them in.

“J–Jeonghan, I–hic–I can’t...!”

He thrusts and scissors the fingers - pushing his cum further into your pussy as you cry out for him.

“So cute~ So cute when I’m ruining you~”

Jeonghan finally pulls his fingers out and it’s not long before those same fingers are in front of your face.

“Lick them clean for me, princess~ I want you to see how obedient you are for me~”

Your tongue peeks out from between your swollen lips; lapping at his fingers that are covered in a mixture of your wetness and his cum.

You momentarily watch your reflection in the mirror - bite marks on your neck and drying tears on your cheeks as you whimper and clean off his fingers as quickly as you can before you’re trying to push him away to cover yourself up.

“Awww, princess, you don’t need to cover up the hickeys~”

“S–shut up... I–I can’t let anyone s–see the–the bite marks...”

You avoid his piercing gaze in the mirror’s reflection; eyes downcast to the floor as you bite your bottom lip.

You could already feel his cum dripping down your inner thighs.

And Jeonghan is quick to notice, tsk-ing at you while he starts to redo the button and zipper of his pants.

“Ah, what a waste. You know, I’ll be thinking about that all day now especially after what I said... Mm, what a shame~ You know I tend to act out when I don’t get what I want~”

“J–Jeonghan...”

He licks his lips watching as you squirm; no doubt from the sticky feeling between your legs.

“That’s okay, though~ You’ll take care of me - won’t you, manager?”

#jeonghan smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #svt scenarios #jeonghan fic #jeonghan #svt fic

[toxicanonymity]

Rock Bottom Ch 2 - The Prey

3.2k Words (20k overall): Corey observes Michael from a distance, then strikes out on his own to make a kill, only for Michael to take all the action in more than one way, while Corey watches. Reader gets railed.

Michael Myers x Reader; Corey thirsting for Michael

She manages to free her legs to either side of Michael.  They're spread wide.  Her feet  are even farther from reaching the floor now.   Michael closes the small gap between them with a thrust, and she groans.  Corey can't see the knife, but he waits for the life to leave her eyes.  It doesn't yet.  It doesn't seem to at all. Michael is playing with his prey again, Corey thinks.  

Rock Bottom Index / Other Chapters

EXPLICIT 18+ MINORS DNI variety of depravity including possible r*pe

Corey pulls up the hood of his sweatshirt and tries not to make a splash as he crosses a creek bed.  It’s dusk, and he’s in a neighborhood not far from where he first encountered Michael earlier this week. Corey had emerged from the sewer changed and wanting more.  He found a small amount of relief in the shower afterwards, and with Allyson later that night, but a different need remains unmet.  A deeper void needs filling.  

Michael’s lair is close to Prevo Auto Yard where Corey works.  He doesn’t know it, but Ronald used to give leftover takeout to the vagabond Corey killed. That’s how close Michael’s lair is.  After work, Corey watched from the overpass as Michael left the drain, then Corey followed him on foot.  He’s been tracking Michael for an hour now.  The darker it gets, the more trouble Corey has keeping up, and it’s not because Michael is fast.

Michael is like a cat.  He slinks, he stalks, he watches, he seems to teleport small distances, making no noise at all.  He’s solitary. He feeds. He plays with his prey.  He naps, for years at a time.  He seems to be drawn to people who don’t show interest in him at all, people who don’t see him coming.   

Michael hasn't attacked anyone tonight, but he may be casing houses for new victims.  Corey isn’t sure yet how Michael chooses his prey.  He feels like he knows Michael intimately, but that’s only in a cosmic, metaphysical way.  Most of Corey’s practical knowledge about Michael is based on news reports and rumors, just like everyone else.  Based on that, most of the victims don’t seem to deserve it.  There must be something to learn from watching Michael in his element.  

Corey looks around 360° and sees Michael nowhere.  He spends another few minutes trying to locate him then resigns himself to calling it a night.  If Michael has noticed Corey on his tail, he may be getting ready to kill him, but the prospect of Michael popping out from behind a bush and attacking him excites Corey more than it scares him.  Nothing scares Corey now. 

A crash comes from the one-story house closest to Corey, and a light turns on inside.  Corey ducks behind a tree to watch.  He expects to see Michael bringing his knife down on an unsuspecting stranger.  What he sees is a man and woman arguing.  It's a huge window.  Michael is nowhere in sight.  The man wears a t-shirt that was once white, ripped jeans, and an unfastened belt. The woman is in a button shirt and underwear.  She throws something at the man.  Another crash.  When the man turns around, he’s holding a pistol.  

The man corners the woman in the kitchen and puts the barrel of the gun against  her throat where it meets her jaw.  She grabs a bottle from the stove, smashes it on his head, and expertly disarms him.   She's pointing the pistol at him now.    Corey recognizes her -  It’s her.  She picks up a pair of jeans from the floor and pulls them on with one hand.  She leaves,  slamming the door behind her.  A thick, dark liquid trickles down one side of the man's head and he winces.

She's a Haddonfield Sheriff’s Deputy, or at least she used to be.   Squad cars could be on their way right now.  Corey disappears into the night.  

2019 

The first time Corey met her, it was Summer 2019.  Corey was working at Prevo saving up for college.   It wasn’t unusual for a law enforcement officer to stop by Prevo.  Criminals use scrap yards for unsavory purposes, like ditching a getaway car, or worse, disappearing someone’s ride after disappearing them .  She came into Prevo that day tracking a warrant.  

While Ronald fetched something in the office, she wandered into the garage where Corey was working.  She leaned against the truck he was fixing.  He was getting ready to weld, so he warned her, “Uh, you should probably go back in the office.  It’s not safe.” He gave her a shy, apologetic smile, and put his welder helmet down.  

She moved closer instead of moving away.  Uncomfortably close.  Corey relented and pulled the welder’s helmet back up over his curls and waited.    

“I like your jumpsuit,” she said as she sized him up.  Corey was built solid.  His unassuming posture made it easy to miss sometimes, but not to her.

“Heh, it’s just, uh, the uniform.  We all have it,” Corey nervously chuckled. He took his glasses from his jumpsuit pocket and put them on, pressing them up into place with a brief little smile, then blinking.   He looked down at her nametag.  She must have thought he was looking at her chest. She seemed excited. 

“Mmm,” she reacted.  “Same here.  Our uniforms aren’t as practical though,” and unbuttoned her top two buttons.  She was wearing a thin undershirt, so the gesture wasn't completely obscene.  “Not a lot of room to stretch.” She clasped her arms behind her butt and jutted her chest out, tossing her head to the ceiling.  She met Corey's eyes again.  “You look like you could do just about anything in yours.” 

“Heh,” Corey blushed, looked around, and adjusted his glasses.  She glanced at his crotch and he reflexively covered himself with the dirty rag in his hand.  She didn’t see his growing bulge, but she knew.  She winked. 

Ronald returned from the office and cleared his throat judgmentally,  "Deputy."   Corey didn't have any business getting mixed up with a woman like that.  Joan would have Ronald’s head.

She rolled her eyes, then smiled at Corey one last time.  " Corey .  Bye, Corey." She turned to Ronald, noticed the security tape in his hand, and squealed.  "You're the best, Ron!" 

"Heh, bye," Corey mumbled to no one, smiling. She was smoking hot and had a nice ass.  He wiped his hands with the oil rag.   Corey sensed she would forget about him by the end of the day, whereas he would think about this for weeks.  

A few months later, around the time of Jeremy Allen's accident, she was stationed at the courthouse in pre-trial security screening.   When Corey was arrested, he spent a week in jail.  Two deputies, Hawkins and Mulaney, escorted him to the courthouse in the back of a squad car for his arraignment.  Hawkins seemed to feel for Corey and treated him nice.  "Shackles, Mulaney? He's just a kid." 

Mulaney was a prick. "Protocol.  Take it up with the Sheriff, old man." 

They entered the courthouse through the inmate tunnel and approached the high-security screening station. Hawkins put his hand on Corey's back. "It's okay, son," nudging him toward the metal detector and body scanner.  It was heavy duty enough to scan body cavities, but they still did pat downs. 

She and a male deputy were both standing behind the body scanner wearing latex gloves.  They always make sure there's a woman available in case a female inmate needs a pat down.  Corey recognized her and blushed.  "Aggravated Manslaughter," Mulaney proudly informed her.  She raised her eyebrows and motioned come hither to Corey with both hands.  "I know you," she said softly. "Arms out, hands facing down."  

She started with his fingers, dragging her hands along the tops of his arms, in toward his neck. She gave his biceps a little squeeze and whispered, "Oh, hello."  Corey gulped. Then the underside of his arms, starting with his broad palms. It was uncomfortably  intimate, but Corey savored what might have been the last time he'd feel a woman's touch for years.   She rounded the corners of his armpits and ran her hands down his sides. Corey shuddered.  She stepped closer and said "I like this one even better," giving his prison garb jumpsuit a tug. She did remember.

She popped a squat as she ran her hands down Corey's hefty thighs all the way to his ankles.  She hooked her hands around his ankles and did the backs of his calves and hamstrings on the way back up.  Corey was getting hard, but she was blocking anyone else's view with her head, then body, as she stood up. 

Her hands approached the apex of Corey's back legs.  Her male counterpart smirked and looked the other way, clasping his gloved hands behind his back like a soldier and adjusting his posture.  She gave Corey's ass a quick squeeze with both hands.  The chub in his groin thickened.  She looked down and kicked his foot lightly, "Spread 'em." 

"Alright, we're on a schedule," Hawkins said, shaking his head. 

"Tell you what lady," Mulaney piped in. "I've been bad .  You've got my number. Heh heh." 

"Dream on, Doug." She squatted down again and finished up by frisking Corey's inner and outer legs, bottom to top.  When she got to his crotch, she seemed to like what she saw.  She stood up, leaned a thigh into his hardness, and brought her lips to his ear. "Good luck."  She rotated his shoulders and Corey shuffled his feet to face the courtroom.  She sent him out with a pat on the butt.  

Her male counterpart glanced down at Corey's jumpsuit.  He said, "hey man, no sharp objects," and laughed with Mulaney as they high-fived.  Corey was beet red.  A boner joke, how original.  

Behind Mulaney and Hawkins, another pair of deputies escorted an inmate through security.  The inmate eagerly approached her and extended his arms.  The deputy laughed, "Shopliftng? Ha, fat chance."  She stood with her arms crossed and nodded toward the male deputy.  Shoplifters didn't interest her.   

Present Day 

It's been two days since Corey met Michael. He wakes up with clarity: The man who was roughing her up would be the perfect victim if he's not already dead.  Corey thinks about it while he works on a station wagon.  Knives are kind of Michael's thing.  He considers taking a wrench from the shop.  Corey doesn't stop by the sewer after work.  He wants to do this on his own and prove himself.  He puts the wrench in his backpack with his scarecrow mask and rides his motorcycle back to the neighborhood.   He turns off his headlight and idles.  There’s an old red truck in the driveway.  No patrol car.  

Corey parks his bike on the next street and creeps through the woods.  It’s dusk.  He sets his backpack down against a tree and watches through the window. The scene  is illuminated by a brass floor lamp that stands between the den and modest kitchen.  There's a hall behind the lamp.  The man is wearing an A-line tank, sitting in a recliner that has seen better days.  He's eating a TV dinner.  The glow of the television illuminates the stains on his shirt.  No one’s going to miss this guy.  

Corey leans down, without taking his eyes off the window.  He removes the scarecrow mask from his bag.   He stands up.  “Pull a gun on a woman?” Corey thinks under his breath.  “Do it again.  Fuckin' coward.”  It sounds tough in his Northern accent.  There’s something about guns Corey doesn’t respect.  He and Michael have that in common.  

Corey uses one hand to place the mask on his face and the other to position the elastic in his curly hair.  Next, he removes a hefty, two-foot wrench from his bag and stands up straight, enjoying the weight of it in his hand.  He lets it drop to his side and the wrench extends itself with a satisfying clink.  

Corey strides slightly uphill toward the house.  He doesn't make much of an effort to hide, but there's no light in the yard, and the idiot is absorbed in the tv.  The man is laughing with a shitfaced grin, chewing with his mouth open, until he seems to see something in the yard.   The douchebag puts down his fork and slowly finishes chewing, squinting out the window.  Corey ducks out of his line of vision, still making his way up the hill with his eye on the kitchen door.   

The douchebag begins to stand.  Crumbs fall off his shirt.  Behind him, a shape emerges in the hall.  The imposing silhouette could only be Michael Myers.  The man doesn't see Michael. He's still squinting into the yard, and standing not quite upright. Michael steps forward.  His mechanic suit is like Corey's, but the collar is upturned and his arm muscles are visible through the fabric. Corey's jaw drops and his briefs tighten.  Michael stands with his arms to his sides, not holding a weapon. His fingers twitch.  

Corey is torn between walking faster to claim his kill and  just watching Michael work.  Michael doesn’t give him much of a choice. He grabs the brass floor lamp with both hands and disassembles it in one swift motion. The lampshade rips against the wall with a crash and its light flickers out.  The man sees Michael's reflection and looks around like a helpless animal.  His eyes bulge.  

The lamp rod is in two hollow parts with a wire in between, like long, brass nunchucks.  Michael wraps the middle cord around the guy's neck, brings the rods together and twists them like a tourniquet with one massive hand, holding the man up by his belt with the other as he flails.  Corey drops the wrench into the grass and rushes closer to the window.  

The man is grasping at the cord with both hands and tries to make eye contact with Corey, as if the grown man in a scarecrow mask will save him. The TV continues to illuminate his dirty shirt in pale colors.  Michael releases the man's belt and wraps his arm like an anaconda around the man's torso to stop his flailing.  The man's movements slow down.  He's not dead, but he's weakened.   Michael loosens his grip and discards the lamp.  Playing with his prey. The man gags and coughs, trying to catch his breath. 

Michael stands still again, feet spread.  He wiggles his fingers almost imperceptibly, then stops.  His physique is one to behold.  His lower jumpsuit is tight on his thigh muscles and crotch.  Does the thrill of the kill turn him on, or is Michael just packing ?  Corey feels movement in his own jumpsuit and adjusts the crotch.  

Michael seems to see Corey out the window.  Corey wonders if Michael would let him kill the guy, and bangs the window.  He side-skips toward the kitchen door to let himself in, curls bouncing.  Michael crosses the kitchen in two long strides, his boots heavy on the linoleum.  He locks the kitchen door without looking at Corey, opens a drawer by the sink, and removes a knife.  He returns to the living room in no hurry at all.  

"Hey!" Corey protests.  He jumps back over to the window and bangs on it.  Michael ignores him and stands there with the knife.  The man has grabbed a shotgun from the wall.  Michael push-kicks it away, unphased.   His work boots break the man's fingers and send the shotgun crashing into the TV.  Sparks shoot from the TV as it dies.  The man holds his limp fingers in his good hand and sobs as smoke comes from the TV.  He's drooling.

With an effortless swing of the knife, Michael finishes him off from arm's length.  The douchebag raises both hands to his throat  and gurgles. Blood trickles over his mangled fingers.  He drops to his knees.  As life leaves his eyes, he looks at Corey, then falls forward onto his face, out of view. 

Corey's disappointment at being locked out of the house quickly turns to elation and arousal.  Watching Michael kill was more satisfying than he could have imagined. He had a front row seat to an apex predator in its natural habitat.  That was worth more than killing the guy himself.  Michael killed him so much better than Corey could dream to.  It was art.   Michael is so much bigger, more powerful, more equipped .  Corey is turned on by his own inferiority, but also wants to learn. 

Michael stands there breathing and waits. Corey bangs again on the window.  Now that it's over, he wants in. Even if Michael chokes him. Especially if Michael chokes him.  Below the window, Corey palms himself through his jumpsuit. A wet spot appears.  His brow furrows and he breathes heavily, and looks back up at Michael. Corey's breath fogs the window. Corey is painfully engorged, the wet spot growing at the front of his jumpsuit.  He must relieve himself.  He fumbles frantically with his zipper and reaches inside.  He begins to stroke himself.   Michael's mask tilts, watching him.

A shadow moves behind Michael.   Michael side-steps out of the way and turns his head toward the hall, waiting.  His fingers twitch.  There's someone else in the house. 

The female deputy emerges from the shadows.  Her eyes fall on Corey's mask and she screams. Michael whips around and grabs her by the throat, slamming her against the wall. Her scream turns into a whimpering cough. Michael effortlessly lifts her off the ground, dragging her up the wall.  She kicks and thrashes, and her arms disappear behind his chest.  

She manages to free her legs to either side of Michael.  They're spread wide.  Her feet  are even farther from reaching the floor now.   Michael closes the small gap between them with a thrust, and she groans.  Corey can't see the knife, but he waits for the life to leave her eyes.  It doesn't yet.  It doesn't seem to at all. Michael is playing with his prey again, Corey thinks.  

Michael reaches between her and himself. A knife clatters to the ground with barely any blood on it.  She groans loudly.  Her strength doesn’t seem to fade. Michael is so much bigger than her.  He seems to take up the whole hall.  He jabs his body into her again.  And again.  She screams, and Michael covers her mouth.  A picture frame falls off the wall behind her. 

With a single step and pivot, Michael flips her to the other wall, her legs wrapping around him.  Michael presses his body into her.  Corey removes his mask and takes in the view.  Michael's sculpted ass flexes rhythmically. Around his waist, the jumpsuit looks looser than Corey expects. 

Michael's jumpsuit is unzipped .  He's not killing her.  He's fucking her.  Michael Myers fucks, and Corey has a front seat view.   Corey pumps himself furiously.  Michael continues thrusting into her, faster and faster.  His upper back muscles flex intricately under his jumpsuit.  

She moans and squirms.  Michael pins both her arms above her head and quickens his pace.  The screams and groans run together into one long cry.  Corey breathes heavily, desperately milking his engorged cock.  His eyelids are heavy. He blinks hard and forces his them open, not wanting to miss a second. 

Michael finally slows down.  He thrusts her into the wall three more times, much harder and slower, then holds perfectly still,  his monster cock still pinning her to the wall.  He steps back and she slides down unceremoniously into a heap on the ground.  Corey climaxes with a groan, and Michael's head whips to the window.  Michael slowly zips his jumpsuit and stands there breathing.  

Michael looks down at her and tilts his head.  She's wearing a button-up shirt, which is open.  Threads stick out where buttons are missing.  The bottom of her skirt is up at her belly button.   Her underwear is in tatters.  Her chest is heaving.  She doesn't try to escape.

Michael leaves her alive and slams the door on his way out.  Corey catches his breath and zips up his suit in a daze.  It's unclear if Michael is a rapist or if she is a conspirator, but the scene gives Corey an idea.  He'll bring Michael his prey.

If you like it, drop me a comment or kudos (you don't have to log in) on AO3 - the dopamine makes me write more lol. You can also subscribe to get alerted about new chapters.

#halloween ends #michael myers fanfic #michael myers x reader #michael myers smut #corey cunningham smut #corey cunningham x michael myers #corey cunningham x reader #slasher fucker #micheal myers #ao3 works #ao3 fanfic #rock bottom fic #rock bottom ch 2 #toxicanonymity oc #toxicanonymity ☠️ #love2cuck #tw rape #tw noncon #rock bottom fic ☠️

[toxicanonymity]

Rock Bottom, Part 3: You don't wanna do that

4k l Corey x Reader is primary but both smut scenes involve something to do with Michael

Summary: Cleaning up Michael's mess leads to Corey staying over with the female deputy and possibly risking it all.

Rock Bottom Index - All Chapters

Warnings: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT, NSFW, 18+ , IT'S DEPRAVED! Dubious consent; Violence (aftermath)

Notes: The first smut scene is on the nastier side for sure, but it kind of wrote itself. If you like the fic, you can reblog here or interact on AO3 (don't have to log in) to keep this story a priority. Thank you for reading!

Michael is larger-than-life, and the rumors about him are dark: Violent, incestual obsession.  Cannibalism.  Any of it could be true and shock no one.  But somehow, Corey is surprised that Michael Audrey Myers absolutely railed someone in front of him.  The way he fucked her was human.  His strength was reptilian.  Maybe it’s the fact that Michael left her alive - left them both alive. 

Corey doesn’t bother trying to catch up with Michael.  He stays on the ground, his temple resting against the window, his breath fogging the glass.  Exhausted.  There’s a dead guy in there. He wonders if the female deputy Michael fucked will call it into the Sheriff's Office.

Inside the house, she stirs on the floor. Her eyes meet the window and she does a double-take. She doesn't look scared this time - he's not wearing a mask.   She holds Corey’s gaze, then pulls her unbuttoned shirt together, crosses her arms, and shrugs: what are you looking at?   Something tells him she isn’t going to call for help.

Corey can't pass up the opportunity to take it all in.   He walks around the side of the house and enters through the carport. He's heard about these scenes on the news like everyone else, but seeing it right in front of him is something different entirely. 

The house smells like cigarettes with notes of metal and balsamic. The smoke from the smashed TV has settled into a light haze. Flies buzz in the kitchen.   There's a dark, set-in stain on the linoleum from some other time - their struggle the night before?

The body is face down on the carpet, sparing them a grisly view of his sliced-open neck, but a significant pool of blood has spread around him, its edges continuing to creep. A few flies have migrated this way, but they’re not swarming yet.

“You’re different," she croaks. Her hair is wild. 

“I’m not Michael,” he announces.  He cautiously approaches the hall and leans against the wall opposite her.  

“No shit,” she says, sizing him up.  “No offense.  No, I meant I remember you, Cunningham."

"Yeah?"  

"You’re like him now.  What happened to you?”  She wheezes.  No man-eater vibe at the moment – she seems utterly spent. "Looks like life was rougher on the outside ."  Corey had barely spent any time in jail, and it was years ago. But aside from being penetrated by evil, he had really thrown himself into lifting weights since the accident.  He was already built, but now his frame was bordering on hulkish for his height. 

"Why aren't you calling the cops?" Corey demands before he'll say anything else.  His voice is deep and gravely.  

 "I could ask you the same thing.” 

“Fair enough.”  Corey pushes his butt into the hall wall and imagines what it must have felt like for her, pinned by Michael's shaft.  He gently scoots the fallen picture frame aside with his boot.  It's an old family portrait. He looks up at the other frames. Some are too faded to make out.  The ones that have held up look nothing like anyone he's seen in the house so far.  He slides down the wall and takes a seat, leaving one knee up.

She nods toward the dead body in the living room and says, “This genius was out of the slammer for two days and couldn’t keep his nose clean.”  This was not the answer Corey expected. Whether the guy deserved it or not, she was sitting in a crime scene. Most people would be freaking out. He wondered if she was afraid or in shock.  

"Aren’t you hurt though?" He prods, secretly hoping she'll go into details about what it feels like being impaled by Michael's rod.  

With a far away stare, she starts to fasten the buttons that remain on her shirt.  

“Why did he let you live?” Corey asks.  

“Why do you think?” she says. She lifts her butt off the ground and Corey catches a glimpse of two shiny inner thighs and a pink seam between them as she tugs her skirt back into place.  

“I mean – was that – did you let him?” 

She sighs.  "He can't help it.”

“What does that mean?” 

She scoffs.  “God, I mean."  She searches for words.  Corey waits, knowing she doesn't owe him an answer.  She shakes her head.  "It means you should see the size of his cock."  He’s speechless.  Something stirs in his jumpsuit. He looks at her skirt, then away.  His face is hot.

“You want to, don’t you?” For the first time, she smiles a little.     

Corey turns red and almost starts to protest, then realizes there’s no air of judgment in her words. She might even have meant he wants to fuck her, which he does.  He wants to insert himself into the scene, the experience.  He wants to be everywhere Michael was.  He wants the sheath of Michael's sword around his own.   

"Why did he let you live? I’m sure you’re not the first kid to start following him around.”  She yawns.  

“Really?”  Corey asks.  

She starts to stand, wincing in pain.  “Help me clean up this mess and I’ll tell you whatever you wanna know.” 

 “It’s a crime scene.  You’re really not gonna call it in?” Corey wants to be sure before he gets his fingerprints all over everything.  

“Really.  The bleach is in there.”  She points behind her to the pantry. 

Corey sighs and opens the pantry.  Duct tape, rope, lye, gloves, salt, tarps.  “No bleach.” 

“Damnit.” She grabs a pair of keys off the wall, and tosses them underhand. “Ben’s Hardware. They don’t ask any questions.”  

Corey glances at the floor to avoid stepping on the picture frame, and he sees her tattered underwear lying there.  Michael’s trail of destruction.  His cock thickens, thinking about Michael fucking her. He looks up at her, and his eyes darken..  

She returns his gaze and approaches slowly, step by step, until her body is against his. His breath quickens.   When Corey looks at her, he sees another survivor.  A chosen one.  Someone who knows what it’s like to have Michael’s hand around their throat then walk away. Changed. 

Corey swallows and doesn’t move.  He realizes out loud, "that wasn't the first time." 

"No."  She backs up against the pantry door, closing it with her ass as she grabs his jumpsuit with both hands, pulling him against her.  His hand goes to her neck as hers explore his muscles.  Her neck is so delicate, so soft, it’s a wonder Michael didn’t snap it in half.  

***

Corey breathes heavily and pushes his clothed hardness against her skirt dutifully, needily. "How did you meet?" 

She hikes it up. "Smith's Grove. Pre-transfer surveillance."  She inhales through her nose then closes her eyes as she grinds herself into the bulge in his jumpsuit.  He forgets to breathe.  She curls one of her legs behind him, hugging his ass with her calf.  She nestles her heel below his crack to beg his hardness even closer.  His balls ache pleasantly.

Corey shudders, imagining her heel is Michael behind him.  Corey doesn’t know what it feels like  to be entered, invaded, forcefully taken.  He’s wanted to find out since the moment Michael grabbed his throat.  His arousal grows.  She brings her hands to Corey’s curls and caresses them affectionately before yanking his head downward. 

He resists, not wanting to give up the sensation of her body against his, then slowly begins crouching down, lowering his head first, leaving his butt against the door.  Corey wants to know every sensation she felt as Michael fucked her. He wants to absorb it transitively.  He lightly drags his fingertips over her skin.  

He breathes heavily into her chest.  She undoes the remains of her button-up shirt and shrugs it off.  His rough hands run over her supple skin.  It feels like a warm peach.  He palms her hard nipples as he slowly drops to his knees at her urging. 

She swings a knee over his shoulder and pulls his curly head in between her legs, pleadingly.  Corey takes her ass in his hands and starts with light, hesitant kisses above her seam.  He aches with want.  He tugs at the zipper of his jumpsuit.  It’s stuck.  

“Please,” he breathes, palming himself hard and slow with his wrist, like he’s trying to get a knot out of a muscle.    She enters herself with a finger, then brings her slickened digits to her hidden pearl. “Come on, Corey,” she breathes, giving herself a rub then putting her hand back at the crown of his head, making his curls sticky.  

Corey's eye is drawn to the sheen of a translucent river on her skin.  He runs his fingers over it.  It’s crusty at the edges.  Michael’s cum is just now drying.  Corey kisses the milky trail feverishly, tonguing it as he recalls Michael’s final thrusts, every muscle of that hulking back moving gracefully under blue fabric like a beautiful machine.    

With his face between her legs, Corey flares his nostrils and inhales until his chest can't physically hold any more air.  He can smell the tinge of Michael’s load.  He aggressively noses her most sensitive place as he breathes it in.  He plants a wet kiss on her petals, then on her pearl.   She breathes heavily and massages his scalp with her short nails as he begins to work his tongue. 

His large fingers dig into the flesh of her buttocks.  She bucks her hips with both hands in his curls.  She whines and her beautiful face contorts.  Corey’s hardness throbs, and pre-cum seeps from his cock head.  He's thirsty, parched, desperate for Michael’s seed. 

He brings his tongue to the moist little hole where Michael emptied himself.  He flattens his tongue and laps at her, at Michael, with all his strength.  Then his tongue sharpens and plunges inside her. Her breath accelerates. He keeps one hand on her ass and unzips his jumpsuit with the other, thrusting his tongue, lapping her entrance up and down. He savors every salty drop.  “Don’t stop,” she says, and he doesn’t until he’s desperate for his own release. 

He comes up for air, replacing his face with his hand.   He flattens several expansive digits against her.  They dwarf her folds.  He rubs her the way she rubbed herself.  Then, he plunges a thick, meaty finger into her and swirls it around, desperately raking her walls for more of Michael. 

He watches her breasts bounce as she bucks her hips against his large hand.  He feels her thighs quiver against his chest and shoulder. The air is cold against the slick on his face.

The sight and smell of froth on his hand shoots pleasure through his body.   He slickens his cock, then his mouth returns between her legs. Corey chokes his cock like Michael choked him.  He devours her, and him. He laps up any trace of Michael and swallows, dying to have Michael inside him by any means.  The seed of a god.  She pulls his hair and moans. Her voice is small.

Corey puts his hands on her hips and tries to gently nudge her downward, hoping she’ll ride him to climax, but she won’t.  He can’t blame her – she’s probably sore.  

He works her clit with his nose as he hungrily laps her entrance.  She gasps and moans and cries. She rolls her hips as she comes.  She contracts and pulsates.  Again,  again,  again.  He feels it through his nose and gives her special place one last kiss. She lets her head fall back and catches her breath.  

Corey tears his jumpsuit open. She dismounts his shoulder.  He pumps himself just a few times before he erupts all over himself, her legs, and the floor.   She holds his shiny chin in her hand and looks down at him apologetically. "Careful. He doesn't share,"  she says.  

"What?” Corey’s heart skips a beat.

"Um.  Just make sure we clean that up."  She pulls her skirt back into place, then urges Corey up by his hair.  “If you’re not back in an hour I’ll make the call.”  She lets him go with a shove, 

-

Corey goes to the hardware store, and it's true, no questions are asked.  It’s a new store, and there’s not another shopper in sight.  He finds the bleach at the back of the store and can’t help but notice the end of each aisle seems suspect.  The contents are similar to the pantry -  ropes and chains, tarps, duct tape.  There isn’t a murder aisle per se, but the way the store is organized sure is convenient. 

Back at the house, the lady deputy has showered and changed into ripped jeans and a white tank.  She’s sweeping up the glass from the busted TV.  The body is still face down on the carpet.  They roll the body onto a tarp in the kitchen while they clean the living room. 

Corey takes his jumpsuit off before opening the first of several gallons of bleach.  He doesn’t need Ronald asking any questions about a bleach-spotted uniform, especially since Joan still does Corey’s laundry.  The deputy puts the uniform in the wash while they clean up.  Now he's practically captive unless he wants to walk out of here soaking wet or half naked.

He's left with a tight blue undershirt and gray boxer briefs. His sleeves hug him tight as his biceps flex to scrub the floor.   Below his boxer briefs, his thighs fade from white to tan as they bulge with muscle, peppered with fine, chestnut hair.  He asks her questions as they scrub.   Is he a cannibal? Does he come here a lot? Does he live in the sewer? What was it like the first time? Does the kill turn him on? 

She pauses, sighs, then sits back on her knees. Corey does too.  She takes a ripped latex glove off and puts her bare, soft hand on Corey's face.  “Michael’s not gonna fuck you, baby,” she says. "He loves pussy." 

She pulls on a new glove and starts scrubbing again, letting him collect himself.  Corey's lips part, but he doesn’t respond.  Her words sting for a moment, but they shouldn't: She can't possibly know for sure that Michael only loves pussy.  

Corey may not look big compared to Michael, but no one does.  Corey is built and has a nice shape.  His shoulders are broad, his pecs are strong, and his solid torso narrows slightly before broadening again to his powerful thighs.   He catches her staring multiple times while they’re both on all fours scrubbing.  She’s not trying to hide it. Corey can’t help but watch her, too.  

Navy blotches of sweat consume the blue of Corey’s tee until he peels it off.  One side of his boxers looks rusty with diluted blood.  They strip the body and wrap it in a tarp and duct tape.  Corey dresses himself in the guy's clothes for a minute to haul the body to the bed of the truck in the carport.  The broken TV and lampshade follow.

When he comes back inside, he can't get the clothes off soon enough, even though his sweat is cold and the air is chilly.  Corey feels dirtier from wearing the dead guy's seedy, woman-beating clothes than he does from anything else.  He feels dirtier than he did in the sewer.  She seems to read his mind.  "There's water, but it's not hot." 

There's a bathroom attached to a bedroom with a full bed, low to the ground.  In the shower, the icy water shrinks him and grounds him.  With blood rushing back to his brain, he thinks more about the practical side of getting close to Michael. 

He still thinks bringing Michael his prey is the best bet.  She said he doesn't share.  Corey wonders if Michael trusts him not to do anything to her, or doesn't mind killing him if he does.  Hopefully sucking Michael's cum out of her didn't count.   Unless it gets Michael's hand around his throat again, on second thought.  

He turns off the water.  She pops in to hand him a towel.  He wraps it around his waist and exits into the bedroom.  There’s a small shelf with a TV and VCR.  The TV has an old-school antenna.  The shelf has a small VHS collection. 

Corey sits on the edge of the bed and goes through the tapes: Black Christmas, Scream, Hellraiser.  The Blair Witch Project is on the bed.  He picks it up from the mattress and lies back against the wall to read the cover.  He’s exhausted.  He never intended to stay this long.  It's inertia at this point.  And lack of clothes.

The doorbell rings, and Corey's heart goes to his throat. An adolescent voice asks, "Blair?" It's pizza. She ordered pizza with a dead body in the carport.   At least she used a fake name.  He looks at the VHS box and smiles.  He listens as she flirts with the pizza boy, then the door slams.  Corey shakes his head and laughs silently.  She sure knows how to entertain herself.  He's starving.   

She brings a meat-lovers pizza to the bedroom along with clean-ish clothes: a white tee and her own pajama pants.  The pants are small but stretchy and soft. The shirt is too tight and not stretchy, but he's too cold not to wear it.  His curls are still wet.  They eat on the bed and turn on the Blair Witch Project.  He should really get going soon, but when he thinks about Joan fussing over him, it's an easy decision to stay awhile longer.  

The small shirt exposes the bottom of his solid torso, and the PJs give him a prominent bulge, even soft. Corey feels exposed, but at the same time, the soft pants feel great as they hug his ass and cradle his junk. 

The two of them huddle under an old crocheted blanket.  They start off side by side, then she puts her leg over his, and her head in the crook of his strong arm.  A while later, he turns away from the movie to face her, with his head resting in one hand.  His other hand strokes her midriff, making her look small. "Do you think he'll kill me?"

"Your hands are cold," she responds.  She wraps her arms around herself.  "He hasn't killed you yet."  She sits up and takes off her jeans. 

"Do you want these back?" He looks down at his pants. 

"Nah, they look good on you. Just keep me warm." She smiles.  When she gets back in the blanket, she lies in front of him so they're both facing the TV.   She pulls the blanket tighter.   Her hair smells clean. She settles into his body.  He inhales her hair and relaxes.  His hand drifts into her panties, and he presses the hardness of his pants into her.  

"You don't wanna do that," she says.  

"But I do," he whispers huskily.  She sighs softly, but remains resolute.  He gives up on getting into her pants and wraps his arms around her tighter.  The curves of her body will keep arousing him, but he's already come twice today and taken a cold shower.  He'll survive.  

Corey hasn't thought about Allyson for hours until now.  He feels amazing with Allyson because it's the first time he let his guard down in so long.  Allyson is pretty, she's funny, and she seems to really like him.  But she's not on the same wavelength. He's not even sure she's living in the same dimension, or if there's a way to bring her over.    He feels understood by the deputy. With her, he feels close to Michael.  Michael doesn't share, he thinks .

He drifts off pretending Michael is a third spoon behind him.  

***

The VHS ends with a click and the TV turns to static.  There's no light from outside.  Corey dreams he's in Michael's lair.  Michael hugs him tight from behind, then puts him in a sleeper hold. Corey wakes up horny and gasping for air.  

His bedmate is roused by the gasping, grinds her ass into him, and sighs in her sleep as she settles again.  She must be cold.  Corey grinds into her and pre-cum begins to wet the pajama pants. The pants are so tight.  He reaches down and frees himself. The waistband under his ballsack urges him into her.  

He nestles his wood between her thighs in a warm nook that feels made for him.  It's so cozy. She grinds her ass back and he feels her folds moisten against his cock.  He gently slides against her, barely moving at first, back and forth with small  pulses.

He doesn't enter her, yet. He slides his cock along her seam until he passes her  clit and feels the cold air on the other end, then pulls back and does it again.   She grinds back more, and her relaxed hand sleepily comes down to his cockhead.  His cock is hastened by her slickness. 

He breathes heavily, fucking the sleeve formed by her thighs and seam.  The tunnel barely accommodates his girth. She moans in her sleep.  Her hand stays in front of her.  Her slick fingers graze the head of his cock every time he reaches the wall of her hand.  Soon her fingers are pressing back each time.  His eyelids grow heavy.

He thrusts gently again and again into her thigh gap.  The head of his cock hits her fingers and they press back harder this time.  They curl.  They nudge him in line with her entrance.  The next time he thrusts, he's sheathed by a much tighter, warmer, wetter sleeve. His breath hitches and his chest fills with butterflies.  

She moans softly, tilting her hips and pushing back with her ass.  He tries to stay still and briefly considers pulling out. Her ass pushes back again, then again, and again in a slow rhythm. She fucks herself on his cock.  

Corey tries not to move, but he can't resist.  He's already inside her.  He wraps his top arm around her for leverage, cups her breast, and thrusts his full length into her pussy, his girth spreading her folds.   He plunges into her deeper, his entire shaft engulfed by her warmth.  He presses his mouth to her hair and tries not to make a sound. Her hair smells like mint.  

He slides himself into her even harder.  She's so hot and wet.  It feels unbearably good.  Better than he's ever felt inside anyone.  He bites his lip, trying not to vocalize.  Her walls clench around him.  She moans and breathes, "Michael ." 

The sound of his name is too much.  Corey's balls tighten, his ass clenches, he gasps, and his cock erupts.   He repeats  "Michael," deep and soft, as his load pumps into her.  It’s a surprising amount of cum, given his recent relief.

He stays inside her, breathing, falling back asleep. He feels safe.  As he dozes off and shrinks out of her, she stirs.  Her hand comes to her seam and hits his cock.  She jolts awake and flips over. "Corey! What the fuck?" The fog clears from his head and a sense of shame and dread sets in. 

"You should really go, she says," as she gets up.  The backs of her thighs shine with their combined juices.  She pulls her jeans over her perfect ass but doesn't button them.  She stomps down the hall, fetches Corey's jumpsuit, and shoves it into his chest as he stands there, stunned. 

"I'm sorry, really - I thought you wa-"

"I want you alive, you idiot." 

"You do?" This shouldn't flatter him, but it does.  If he were her – that is, if Michael owned him - he can't imagine caring about anyone else.  

They stand in the hall and look at each other. Corey's heart is racing.  She softens her gaze, steps closer, and plays with a ringlet of his hair.  Her eyes are sad.  Corey breaks the silence, "How will he know?" He feels like he knows the answer -  Michael is an apex predator.  

"Following him around like a puppy isn't going to help.” Her face looks pained.  “Stay away from him, Corey."  He opens the front door.  Dawn is breaking.  She puts her hand on his to stop him.  She searches his eyes and seems to sense his plans.  “Hey, seriously.  Don’t do anything stupid.” 

He stops and turns around.  He presses his nose and lips into her hair and inhales, then tilts her chin upward.  He gives her a long, hard kiss, breathing in through his nose.  His lips release hers and she brings her hand to her mouth, her eyes darting around outside. 

He closes the door behind him, undeterred.

CONTINUE WITH CHAPTER 4

#corey cunningham x reader #corey cunningham smut #halloween ends #corey cunningham x michael myers #corey cunningham #peepaw myers #michael myers #michael myers fanfic #michael myers x reader #michael myers smut #slasher fucker #rock bottom fic #toxicanonymity oc #rock bottom ch 3 #toxicanonymity ☠️ #rock bottom fic ☠️

[toxicanonymity]

The Dark Path (Rock bottom Ch 4)

6k | Corey x Michael, Michael x Reader. NSFW

Something for everyone! Pt. 1: Beefcake Corey pumps iron. Pt. 2: Corey & Michael kill Mulaney. Michael on Corey. Pt. 3: Michael fucks (Y/N). Corey can't contain himself.

Rock Bottom Index - All Chapters

If you don't want gifs, you might wanna read on AO3. Throw me kudos for being a slut while you're at it & subscribe to get the next chapter a lil early.

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Ch 4 Part 1 

Outside (Y/N)’s house, Corey walks around to the backyard.  He bends down to pick up his heavy wrench from the dying grass.  The cold metal slides and clinks into place as he moves.  He imagines what it would have been like to kill the sad sack if Michael hadn't gotten to him first.

He goes to collect his backpack and sees a shape in the  woods.  His heart skips a beat.  It feels like Michael is close.  The shape walks in the opposite direction.  

Corey gets on his motorcycle.   His huge hands make it look like a toy bike from certain angles. He cranks the gas with a twist of his thick wrist. It’s a cold ride, and his large knuckles turn red and white.  

Instead of going home, he rides to the Allen family’s abandoned mansion.  He keeps some things hidden there for whenever he needs to get away from Joan. He puts on clean underclothes and takes a nap before work.

His day goes by in a haze of want. His clothes are clean, but he can still feel the essence of Michael and (Y/N) enrobing his cock.  

-

At work, he's distracted and lets the hood of a Buick slam on his masculine hand.  It doesn’t hurt, but the shock of it makes him yell.  Ronald is worried about him - he's barely been coming home lately.  

Corey is assigned scrap duty for the rest of the day.  He heads behind the shop to their secondary scrapyard with a clipboard.  He trudges through a sea of  cars, most of them with no tires, parked on white granite rocks that gleam and blind him and crunch under his boots.  Hoods are open, doors are off.  A lot of models are from the 90s or 00s but some are older.  He updates the part inventory as he walks. It’s boring.  

Corey prefers challenging manual labor to tedious paperwork.  Being a mechanic lets him use his engineering knowledge and curiosity while getting to touch and explore and fix things. He’s very good with his hands, and his hands are made for the job. 

Doing inventory is mind-numbing.  He has too much pent up energy and has to pass the time.  At the back of the scrapyard, there's a bumper leaning against a 90s Saturn.  He puts his clipboard down on the seat of a picnic table in the shade and takes his sleeves off, tying them around his waist.   His nipples say it's too cold for this, but he doesn't feel it. 

He hauls the bumper on his sculpted shoulder with one massive hand bracing it.  He mounts the table, ass-first and his thighs and groin press up into the fabric of his jumpsuit as he scoots back and stretches out into place.  He lays back and rests the car part on his sturdy chest.  He spreads his thick fingers to get a good grip, then bench presses it.  

His stamina is impressive and it takes a minute to even feel the burn.  It starts in his hard pecs and spreads to his thick arms.  As the bumper grows heavier, he breathes harder, winces, and his feet start to move.   His white undershirt rides up and he can feel the air on his lower abs and V.   He pauses at the top to steady his arms and breathe, his cheeks puffing out with air. He does a few more reps and discards the bumper.

His biceps bulge out of his white sleeves. The sleeves have ridden up to show his paler skin.  He takes a rest then grabs a tire.  The veins in his hands pump.  

He firmly plants his feet in the gravel and sticks his glutes out for proper form. He holds the tire in front, bracing it with his large hands on each side, his hard triceps flexing.  His empty jumpsuit sleeves loosen around his hips as he squats, but the pants are held up by his ass. His quads burn as he digs his boots into ground for leverage and continues squatting. 

From the shop, he hears, "Corey! Lunch is here!" He sets down the tire with a thud and lets it roll away.  It comes to rest against a Ford Bronco. 

Corey pulls on his sleeves and goes to the office.  He devours a footlong meatball sub, holding it with both hands, bracing his elbows on the break room table, his forearms flexing, mouth full, jaw and Adam's Apple moving with each bite. 

He spends the rest of his break in the garage.  He sits with his big legs spread, an elbow braced against his knee and curls a heavy tool box with just three fingers because the handle isn't big enough.  He squints with every bulge of his bicep as he pumps, until he realizes his glasses are fogged and his armpits are damp all the way down the sides of his jumpsuit.  

After lunch, at the back of the scrapyard, he does lunges, holding a tire.  He lunge-walks down a row of cars, turns the corner and comes back through another row.  His jumpsuit strains at the seat each time he comes down.  He keeps going until he feels his lower back sticking to his jumpsuit with cold sweat, potentially drawing attention to his prominent glutes.   

His face is hot.  His curls are damp and matted to his forehead.  A bead of sweat rolls down his thick, tan neck.  He catches his breath and picks up the clipboard again.   

-

After work, Corey goes home and instantly regrets it.  A few days ago when he didn't come home, Joan was beside herself.  This time,  she's unhinged.   Her northern accent intensifies into a monologue that doesn't end until Corey leaves.  

"Who's been taking advantage of my baby boy?! Who?! I can smell her on you, Corey.  She doesn't love you! You know none of them care about you, Corey. You're handsome. You're sensitive.  They should be so lucky.  Your mother loves you, Corey! Come home to your mother! What's happening to my baby boy?!" 

His deep, gruff voice interrupts her painful whine.  "I'M FINE, MA," is all he says.  

"OH MY GOD, COREY, YOUR NECK!"

Corey opens the fridge. 

"OH, COREY, I'm so sorry.  Let me go buy you some chocolate milk! I’ll be right back, you stay right here." She grabs her wallet and nods to herself like that’s going to fix everything.  Then she remembers,  "Oh, you know what? Do you want some custard? There's some custard in the fridge!"  She puts her arms on his hulking back and arms. 

So now boys who keep secrets get custard.  Too little too late. “No thanks, Ma.”  She grabs her keys off the wall, distressed.    

Corey goes upstairs to wash. He plugs the drain and turns on the water.  He looks in the mirror as the bath fills. His jumpsuit hugs his broad shoulders and chest. He peels it off, followed by his soaked undershirt.  His muscles are still pumped up.   His neck is still red from Michael choking him.  

His large fingers graze the marks on his neck.  It turns him on, but he's saving himself, and he can't relax with Joan like this.   (Y/N) hadn't even mentioned his neck.  She must have known.   His eyes well up as her essence fades away in the bath.  Being inside her felt like being sucked by an angel.  They’ve barely explored each other.  The things they could do. 

When Corey pulls the plug to drain the bath, Joan yells right outside the door, "COREY?! Are you alright?!"  

“I’M FINE, MA,” he says again.  He changes into jeans and a button-up shirt.  The stairs rumble as he lets his weight carry him down.    

"I've gotta go, Ma." Joan grabs him and forcefully kisses him on the lips as he leaves.  It's like she's afraid it's the last time she'll see him.  Maybe it will be, he thinks. 

-

Corey picks Allyson up on his motorcycle.  Her small arms wrap around his ample torso.  Part of him would rather feel Michael’s bulky arms, just to know what it’s like to feel small.  

Corey didn’t have a dad growing up.   By the time Joan met Ronald, Corey was becoming a man.  It was all handshakes and pats on the back, an occasional brief hug if he needed one.  He’s never known the true embrace of a man’s strong arms. 

Being close to Allyson reminds Corey of what he likes so much about her.  She has the energy of someone who has lived through hell.  She's experienced Michael Myers in spree killer mode.  It's clear she came away changed in some way.  She must have a dark streak, Corey knows it.  He just has to tease it out.  The tinder is there.  He just needs to light the match.    

Allyson's arms feel good around him. He wants to have her as his own, but he also wants to feel understood.  It’s not possible for Allyson to understand him the way (Y/N) does.  The way he thinks Michael might.  If Corey can tempt Allyson onto the dark path, she’ll understand.  Then he can have it both ways - someone of his own, and someone who understands.   

He  longs to bring Allyson over, but the notion also feels dangerous for Michael, and therefore Corey, thanks to Laurie Strode.  Laurie is Michael's most dangerous predator.  

-

At the diner, Corey pretends to study the menu, but he always gets a cheeseburger and a chocolate milkshake.  What he's really doing is weighing his options with Allyson. 

Aside from the threat of Laurie, monogamy is Corey's other point of hesitation.  He assumes Allyson would expect it.  A few days ago, he would have expected it.  He would have embraced it, loved it.  It was his natural inclination.  But now, he doesn't know if he can help himself.   

It's not just Michael that he wants to stay open to.  The idea of not being with (Y/N) again is physically painful. He's thinking about her more than he expected. Corey still wants Michael to own him – if that's what it takes.  But Corey loves pussy, too.  Why can't he have it all? 

Corey wasn’t like this before, or if he was, he didn’t realize it.  He certainly didn’t act on it.  This uninhibited appetite all started with Michael's hands around his neck.

When Corey first met (Y/N) in 2019, that was almost a year after the botched transfer from Smith’s Grove, so she already knew Michael.  Michael already knew her.  For all Corey knows, she was a choir girl before Michael let her survive. 

Corey decides he'll give Allyson a tour of the dark path, and whether she stays on it is up to her.  He starts by baring his soul as they eat.  He shares enough of his darkness to intrigue her and be truly vulnerable.  His dark eyes fill with genuine tears.

He devours his burger, grease dripping down both of his strong, sculpted hands. He listens to Allyson, and she seems to feel the same.  He sinks his teeth into the despair that underpins her story.  Haddonfield has chewed them up and spit them out.  As he slurps the last of his chocolate milkshake, things seem to be coming together.  

They each have their own reasons, but it seems like he and Allyson want the same thing, in principle: to burn it all down.  Destroy the town that destroyed them.  She may not realize what this looks like to Corey, but it’ll come with time.   He’ll make a bad girl out of her.   

-

When Doug Mulaney tries to start some shit at the diner, Corey knows what he has to do, but he’s tempted to take him on man-to-man right there.  

Corey’s always been equipped to handle himself, but there was a terrible irony. Before the accident, he never really needed to defend himself.   Afterwards, he did, but he couldn’t risk appearing aggressive or even capable of harm.  

Post-accident, he would cower all the time, and when he got bullied or roughed up, he’d take it like a punching bag.  He was afraid of hurting anyone.  It would feel bad and also be the talk of the town.  Things would get even worse for him. 

Physically though, he was always more than capable.  God gave him a sturdy frame, and on top of that, he works out. 

For as long as he can remember, he's been starting his morning with push-ups just to feel the burn in his pecs, then he flips over and brings his fingers to his curly hair and does crunches. 

He has a pull-up bar on his bedroom door.  He can watch an entire episode of the Regular Show while doing pull-ups and chin-ups.  He doesn’t even keep count.  

He likes to feel his shoulders and triceps harden; his biceps and forearms bulge.  He bends his knees and crosses his ankles behind himself to fit in the door frame.  Then, for a different burn in his ample thighs, he brings his legs in front. 

He spends his downtime working out, and  sometimes he doesn't even realize he's doing it. It feels good and it's an escape.  

Doug Mulaney, on the other hand, looks like he probably sits in his patrol car all day.  While Mulaney is eating donuts and writing tickets,  Corey spends his work day lifting heavy objects and using industrial sized tools.  His hands and arms are so powerful that he can lift a tire overhand, palm-down, like a tote bag.  Doug needs a gun to protect himself.  Pussy. 

Corey could absolutely take Doug Mulaney one-on-one, but he has to resist.  He’s been looking for prey to bring Michael, and he found it.  

He drops Allyson off at home.  They share a steamy kiss that makes Corey hard.  She’s obviously keen to get him into bed, but Corey is too focused.  Another dose of the warm and fuzzy hormones will help bring her over where she needs to be, but not right now.   

Ch 4 Part 2

Mulaney makes it too easy by tailing Corey on his way home.  It will take no effort at all to bait him into the lair. At the very least, Corey will get to watch Michael even closer.  If Corey is really lucky, maybe he'll get the (Y/N) treatment - pinned to the wall by Michael's most precious weapon. 

Corey is still trying to wrap his head around Michael as a sexual entity.  If the kill is what turns him on, Corey needs to be the closest person in vicinity when he kills. He parks his bike under the overpass.

Corey baits Mulaney through the encampment and toward the drain and visualizes what the kill will be like.  He reflects on Michael’s last kill - the one he witnessed - and realizes Michael never even stabbed the guy.  It was boss the way he strangled him with the floor lamp, but when he finished him off from arm’s length with a single slash, Michael almost looked bored.  

Watching Michael kill was exhilarating, but watching him really come to life and stab someone, blood splattering on Corey’s neck – the thought of it hardens him more.  With Corey bringing the prey, surely Michael will let him participate in the kill.  

Mulaney follows Corey through the sewer, into the cavern, searching with his flashlight and taunting Corey out loud.  The bright light lands on devious Corey. 

Michael emerges from the shadows but doesn’t pounce.  He looks feeble, almost confused, like Corey is interrupting his nap.  Or maybe, he's letting Corey take the lead. 

Corey has never felt so alive as he prepares to slash with Michael.  He weakens and disorients Mulaney, incurring only a bloody nose and mouth in the process.  He’s tempted to go all-in, but it's Michael’s turn.  Michael moves slowly.  Corey can’t wait to see him work. 

Michael’s shrunken posture makes Corey look even larger.  He urges, "Get up, get up, GET UP!"  Michael pulls a rusted knife from the wall and  Corey's body tingles with anticipation from his nipples to his groin.  "Show me how," he says.  "I need you to show me!" There are so many things he wants Michael to show him.  

Michael swings.  Mulaney stumbles back against Corey's broad chest.  They fall to the ground, Mulaney’s weight spread across Corey’s sturdy body.  Michael lunges toward them.  Corey curls his big arms under Mulaney's, which are thin in comparison.  He braces for impact, breathing heavily as he watches the Shape’s every move.  

Michael wields the old rusted knife like a dagger.  He raises the blade then plunges it into Mulaney's chest.   Corey feels the tense body relax into dead weight in his arms.  Corey breathes heavily and rapidly, spellbound.  He doesn't take his eyes off Michael as the blood drains from their prey. Michael yanks out the knife, splattering blood across Corey's face.  His arousal swells.

Something comes over Michael.  He tenses and adjusts his grip on the knife. The black holes of the mask seem to look into Corey like the first time they met.  Corey understands. 

He braces Mulaney against his chest, and Michael thrusts the blade into him again.  And again.  Corey's eyes follow the blade.  He savors the vantage point of Michael shafting into him.  It has the same energy as Michael’s final thrusts into (Y/N).  Every time Michael plunges the blade into Mulaney, Corey's solar plexus shoots rays of pleasure into his whole body. He could not imagine a more erotic experience.  

Michael takes one step back and slowly stands up straight.   Corey lets go of Mulaney and the dead weight slumps to the ground.  Corey's jeans tighten with desire.  His ass tingles.  His chest heaves and he wipes saliva and blood from the corners of his mouth as he watches Michael.  Corey's cock is throbbing.  

Michael rolls his shoulders back and seems to reach an even darker frequency.  Corey's eyes gravitate to Michael's crotch, which appears to bulge, just as Corey expected.  It's not just his crotch, though.  His muscles appear to pump, too.   

Michael's arms and shoulders flex and he begins to quiver with energy.  The tired old man from moments ago is a distant memory.  Corey takes in Michael's entire form.   His sculpted arms are visible through his sleeves.  The stabbing has reanimated his truest self. 

Corey aches to be filled. There's a space deep in his core that can only be filled by Michael.  He flattens his massive hand against his clothed erection and winces while he waits for Michael's next move.  The base of his shaft contracts and a wave of pleasure blooms deep in his core. He's afraid he might come in his pants, but he's not ready. 

The last time Corey was in the sewer, the mask penetrated his eyes.  Michael injected something intangible and indescribable into him that day.   Corey, who was on the verge of disappearing, was transformed instead.  Now he’s dying for Michael to penetrate him deeper. Turn him darker, freer.  He can almost feel it happening.  

Michael turns his head slightly.  The fingers of his free hand twitch.   Corey tries not to take his eyes off Michael as he begins to unfasten his own belt, thrusting into his own wide wrist as he does it.  He's so hard.  

Michael steps closer.  His breath is loud behind the mask.  He raises the knife. Corey reflexively scrambles to his feet and  backs away until his back is flat against the wall.  His unbuttoned jeans are held up only by the excruciating swell in his briefs. Michael raises the knife to Corey's sculpted throat and closes the distance between them. 

Michael presses the side of the cold metal blade against Corey's thick neck, from his Adam's Apple to his jaw.  It’s angled upward, with Michael’s large, leathered hand near Corey’s ear.  The blade follows the hickey-like bruises from Michael's fingers.  Michael takes a final step, and his foot is between Corey's feet.  

Michael's sturdy thigh presses into Corey’s rock-hard, pulsating arousal.  Corey can't help but thrust against him.  Michael presses the knife harder against Corey’s throat, making him cough.  

Corey feels something move against the bottom right edge of his abs.  He's overcome with arousal to realize it’s Michael's cock, straining the leg of his jumpsuit, spanning from Corey’s lower abs to his thigh.  It's thick and hard, like a warm lead pipe.  Corey thrusts his aching bulge into Michael's thigh and Michael further presses the blade. 

Corey feels a sharp pang of pleasure in his taint.  He dares to grind his hip into Michael's engorged length, but Michael presses his own hip swiftly and firmly against Corey so he can no longer move. Corey is aching for relief. If he hadn't come so much in the past day or so, he's certain the sight of Michael's bulging jumpsuit would have made him come already.  

Michael shows no signs of wanting his own release.  Maybe it’s true what she said, that Michael loves pussy, but that doesn’t mean anything, because so does Corey.  And what’s more, here’s Michael pressing an enormous erection into Corey’s body. 

Corey tries again to press his body into Michael’s arousal.  He wants to feel its warmth, feel it move.  Michael’s hardness grows and his body stiffens further.  Corey tilts his pelvis in a few small pulses to create friction and stimulate himself.  His pre-cum soaks through Michael's jumpsuit.

A car horn blares outside.  Michael looks down and away then relaxes the knife slightly, but keeps it against Corey’s skin. With the knife relaxed, Corey gasps and catches his breath. 

Michael steps back, separating his jumpsuit from Corey's jeans and observes the wet spots on both of them.  Then Michael looks away slightly.  Something is distracting him.  He sniffs the air. 

-

Dread sets in.  What was Corey thinking?  Michael let him live and was letting him get close.  He trusted Corey, and Corey betrayed him.  He must know it.  Michael growls almost imperceptibly, as though in agreement, and steps back into him.  

Corey feels the blade of the knife rotate and dig in beneath his jaw.  Michael could kill him with the flick of his wrist, but he holds it steady. Then, the sharp blade begins to drag slowly, very slowly, but lightly, along Corey's jaw.   Corey feels a hot, thin line of blood separate into multiple narrow streams and stream down his neck.  This is real.  

Corey pleads "no, no, no, not yet" and grinds into Michael’s hard-on as though to show what he can offer.  He wants to become one with Michael before he dies. 

Michael pauses.  

A knock on the drain pipe echoes through the cavern.  Michael jerks the blade, slicing Corey's neck as he flings the knife across the cave. Blood oozes out of the slit.  It's more than a trickle but doesn't gush. It missed the jugular. 

(Y/N)’s voice echoes through the drain pipe.  “Are you in there?” 

Michael releases him.  Without looking back, Michael walks with a purposeful, upright stride to the drainage pipe, then drops to his knees and gets in.  It’s the first time he’s seen Michael on his knees, which does something to him.  Michael’s lumberjack body fills the drain more than Corey’s, despite Corey’s broad, muscular stature.  

Corey suddenly feels cold and unclothed without Michael against him.   He listens to the echo of huge, heavy knees on the metal as Michael exits the drain.  

Ch 4 Part 3

Rather than follow Michael out of the drain, Corey quickly fastens his belt and tiptoes across the cavern.  He hides in a crevasse. Water plinks down from the ceiling.  His hard-on is still raging.  He’s so high on the kill that he wonders if he’s dead.  He can’t believe how well this night has gone, even with blood running down his neck.  

Corey killed with Michael.  He awakened a higher energy in Michael.  It’s nothing compared to the transformation Michael gave Corey, but returning the favor to some small degree makes Corey feel even closer to Michael.   Michael not only choked him tonight, but sliced him.  Then, astoundingly, pressed his warm, lethal cock against his body.  

Corey was lucky.  Michael may not have sensed his betrayal after all.  The  sense of relief dissuades him from pressing his luck any further tonight.  He shouldn’t have gotten greedy.  He can always see if things escalate next time.  Before things go south, he needs to leave.   

- 

Corey can’t exit through the main pipe or he might run into them.  He doesn’t know what (Y/N) would do or say.  He’s almost more afraid of her reaction than Michael’s.  If she can’t play it cool, Michael will know.  

Corey surveys the dark cave for any sign of another exit and makes his way down the main hall, pressing his wrist against his zipper against his aching want.  He considers stopping to jerk off but doesn’t. 

He walks quietly but briskly to the end of the cave.  He approaches the area with Mulaney on the ground.  It looks like a dead end, but once he’s all the way at the wall, a very faint, dusty beam of light catches his eye to the right.  He goes through the crevasse with the soft blue light, and sees that it’s a grate up above, not an exit. 

Moonlight shines down through the squares above, illuminating a  round room.  There’s a fire pit and a huge, iron spit in the middle. Bones are stacked up around the edge of the room.  It’s like a catacomb.  Many of them look old, almost dry, but a few look fresh with bits of tendon clinging onto them.  Corey walks around the perimeter.  There’s a bone saw against the rock wall and a tin of matchbooks.   

He approaches the middle of the room.  The fire pit is round and made of smooth, pale stones.  The spit has scraps of burned meat stuck to it.  Corey steps closer.  It smells like barbecue. He looks down into the fire pit.  Those aren’t rocks, they’re human skulls.  The blood drains from Corey’s face.  His heart races and he stumbles backwards but catches himself.  This is Michael’s Ossuary and Grill. 

Thumping and dragging noises begin to echo from the drain pipe.  The thumps are irregular.   A faint light  begins to bounce around the cave.  Corey scrambles to find somewhere to hide as the thumps get louder.  He finds a nook between the ossuary and another room in the cavern.   He can still see into the ossuary.  He hopes the ossuary can’t see into him.  The echoing thumps stop. 

The artificial light brightens. Footsteps start, and the light moves in rhythm with the steps.    There are two sets of footsteps.   She asks, “Should I call it in?” Silence.  Footsteps.   Her voice is getting closer.   “Okay.  Hey, it’s okay. I just wish I knew who killed Nelson.”  The vagabond, Corey realizes.  He’s lying dead with a flashlight right outside the tent. That was part of his trap for Mulaney. 

The lighter footsteps stop.  “Wait, there’s already someone here,” she says.  Corey’s heart races and he holds his breath.  He can’t see them. He doesn’t know how she knows. Maybe she heard him breathing.  Shoes scuff the ground and there’s a rustling sound.  

“DOUG MULANEY? Jesus Christ, Michael.” Michael never stops walking.  “I don’t even know what to say.” Corey exhales.  The lighter footsteps quicken to catch up.   "Did he find you?" They're very close. 

Corey can see two shapes enter the ossuary, the huge one carrying another figure over its shoulder.  Michael's breath is audible.  There's a rustling and a loud thump.  Duct tape rips off loudly, echoing through the cavern.   Corey tries not to look, lest their light catch the reflection of his eyes.  The light turns off.  

He hears the snap of a match and the wind of a flame.  A whoosh followed by crackling.  The ossuary is gradually illuminated with a warm, flickering, orange light.  It’s quiet for a minute.  Too quiet for Corey to move. The warmth of the fire barely reaches Corey but is welcome.  The room starts to smell like barbecue. 

***

(Y/N) is sitting on the ground against the wall, catching her breath.  Out of view, there’s a drag of metal on rock, probably the bone saw.  She groans in disgust.  "Yeah, think you’ve got this,” she says. “I should get going.”  

The saw clatters to the ground.  Heavy footsteps cross the room.  Michael bends down and grabs her by the throat, then drops to his knees in front of her.  He still towers over her, even with his knees spread over her legs. He doesn’t pick her up.  Instead, he uses his other hand to jerk her toward him.  With the hand around her throat, he forces her back onto the ground. 

She chokes as he drags her closer, by the throat.  Her torso comes to a stop between Michael’s knees.   She manages to sit up on her elbows.  She reaches out hesitantly, like she’s trying to catch a wild animal.  Michael lets her touch his chest.  His grip loosens and she gasps for air. 

He sits back on his gargantuan haunches, which puts his clothed erection against her yoga pants.   She gasps and looks straight ahead.  The blood drains from her face.  She reaches for his crotch as if her eyes deceive her.  She runs her hand down the fabric, feeling his entire length.  It must be the size of her forearm.  

“Holy shit,” she says.  Corey wonders if he's responsible for Michael's enhanced arousal.  Blood rushes to his groin. 

Michael cages her to the ground and yanks down her yoga pants.  She looks apprehensive.  She reaches for Michael’s chest.  His hand snatches hers and brings it just below his upturned collar.  

He slowly pulls down his zipper with her little hand.  Corey's heart races.  She tries to stop it but is no match for his strength.  He grabs the sides of his upturned collar and thrusts his massive chest forward. The collar and jumpsuit fall back and a more precise silhouette of his back and arms emerge.  He lets the long sleeves hang to his sides.

The firelight isn’t great, and the angle isn’t perfect,  but from what Corey can see, Michael wears a dark, almost too-small t-shirt.  His muscles are utterly unreasonable.  His arms are the size of her thighs.   

Corey looks around frantically but doesn’t find a better view.  He desperately wants to see everything, but this is also his best chance to escape. 

Michael's expansive back and empty sleeves obstruct the view of his crotch, but his back in itself is a vision, even under the dark t-shirt.  He yanks the rest of her pants off and nudges her legs open with a giant knee, making space for himself.  

Finally, Corey catches a glimpse of that monster cock.  It’s commanding. Michael lowers himself over her before he can see it in more detail.  She moans at the feeling of his naked girth hard against her.   She rolls her hips.  She must be so wet. But as Michael begins to position himself for entry, she begs, “please," she squirms, "it’s too much.”  

Corey reaches for his pants and palms himself desperately with his massive hand.  He shifts slightly toward the exit of his nook just in time to see her back arch as Michael shoves himself into her.   She groans loudly and his enormous hand grabs her throat. His hulking muscles move gracefully under his shirt as he begins to fuck her.  Corey can’t pull himself away. 

Michael pushes slowly at first, like he’s letting her accommodate his even larger-than-usual size.   She cries and paws at his chest.  Every thrust is so powerful.   Her legs are spread wide with her knees up.  Michael never takes off his mask. 

Her face hotly twists in pain.  He persists.  With time, her cries turn into soft moans and occasional gasps.  She reaches up to his chest as she stares into the mask holes.  His large hand swallows hers.  They’re both sweating by the fireside as Michael's hips powerfully meet hers again and again.  

Corey tries to ground himself.   If he has any hope of moving things forward, he must make it out of this cave tonight.  He backs away slowly.  His arousal aches terribly, but he can’t indulge it, not right now.  He needs his wits about him.  

Michael just barely grunts, and it stops Corey in his tracks.  It’s the hottest sound he never thought he’d hear.  He steps back to where he was.  He has to watch, come what may.  He makes himself a deal.  He can stay a few minutes if he doesn’t touch himself.  Corey wants Michael, but he also wants to be Michael inside of her.

Michael grabs her hips and pulls her into him harder.  Her feet come into the air and wrap loosely around him.  Her legs are so small against Michael’s body. His rhythm quickens and he leans down closer.    

Michael’s arms glisten and bulge out of his short sleeves. His strong forearms slide under her.  With an emphatic thrust, he pulls her against him and scoops her up.  He sits back on his haunches and holds her tight against himself.  He grips her by the waist with her legs draped over his hips and continues to pound into her cunt. 

He moves her rhythmically against his lap, jamming her down around his cock every time he thrusts.  Her feet stick out behind him and bounce in the air each time she comes down on his shaft.  She gasps throatily.  Michael’s hands dwarf her. She looks like a doll getting bounced around.  Michael breathes heavily and wraps his arms tighter.  

Corey wants to fuck her like that.  He also wants Michael to wrap his arms around him like that.  He feels pre-cum seeping into his jeans.  His cock twitches desperately.  

Michael moves his hands to her ass and she hangs on around his broad neck, her arms grazing the bottom of his mask.  He pulls back his speed, fucking her slower but with just as much power and pipe.  After a minute, he slides his hands up her sides to her armpits.  His thumbs cross her nipples, palms engulfing her breasts.  He brings her down hard on his cock and Michael Myers audibly moans.  

It’s too much for Corey.  He brings his wrist down to his pants, unsure if he’s trying to stop it or get it over with.  At the slightest friction, his cock empties itself in dramatic pulses.  It feels like it happens in slow motion.  A small gasp escapes his mouth. 

She looks in Corey’s direction and her eyes widen just as he steps out of view.  Michael keeps fucking her, unaware.  Corey's heart pounds. His briefs feel full and warm. 

-

It’s a challenge for Corey to move quietly. He's a big, burly guy.  Every step he takes is heavy.  He tries his best to silently slink  toward the drain pipe.  Sounds of animalistic fucking echoing through the cavern, masking his footsteps.  

He hears breathing. Groaning. Rubber soles squeaking against wet rock.  Fabric scraping the ground.  She wails, he grunts.  

Corey reaches the pipe and gently crawls into it.   He goes very slowly, one big knee at a time, his large, filthy hands spread out in front of him.   His knuckles are white.  Moonlight is visible ahead.  In the distance, behind him, he hears a whine, a choke, a slap, and a scream. 

Then, he hears traffic from the overpass and feels cool, fresh air against his face. Just a little further and he steps out of the tunnel and collects himself.  He uses his massive palms to brush off his knees. He jogs out of view of the drain.  He sees the red truck, and has the passing urge to get inside and wait for (Y/N).  But after such a close call, he's committed to not sabotaging himself, at least for now. She'll be sore anyway.  

Continue with CHAPTER 5

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#michael myers smut #michael myers x reader #corey cunningham smut #corey cunningham #corey cunningham x reader #halloween ends #michael myers #beefcake!corey cunningham #dark!corey cunningham #sluttification #michael myers x y/n #michael myers x corey cunningham #grisly d #rock bottom fic #cannibal!michael myers #dubious consent #slasher fucker #slasher smut #slasher x reader #rock bottom ch4 #toxicanonymity ☠️ #rock bottom fic ☠️

[toxicanonymity]

Rock Bottom Index - 18+

⚠️ Broken links - please use the "rock bottom ☠️" tag to find chapters until I can fix these.

Ch 1 (2k) | Ch 2 (3k) | Ch 3 (4k) | Ch 4 (6k) | Ch 5 (3.5k) | Ch 6 (3.2k)

Thank you for the mood board, @dark-scape !

This fic is written from Corey's point of view. It weaves in and out of Halloween Ends events, exploring the sexual tension between him and Michael and how their dynamic evolves throughout the movie. There is also a female Sheriff's Office deputy who was originally written as Y/N and I haven't had a chance to change it, sorry 🥲. It was my first fic and I didn't know if Y/N or you was preferred, but third person came more naturally.

👇 commissioned art, chapter summaries/warnings👇

Commission (Ch 5) by @cordelium | Commission Info

WARNINGS: choking, injury, violence, murder, pining, depravity at crime scenes and in the sewer, observing a scene where you dont know if it's r*pe or not at the time.

Key

Canon | Smut | Other/Orig.

Characters: Corey (CC), Michael (MM), Sheriff's Deputy Reader (Y/N), Allyson (AN), Mulaney (DM)

Ch 1 (2k) In the Womb of God- Canon: CC wakes up in sewer, MM chokes CC; Smut: CC jerks off. Plot: CC obsessed with MM. CW: Choking, masturbation, pining, sewer.

Ch 2 (3k) The Prey - Plot: CC watches MM kill someone; flashback to CC meeting Y/N in 2019. MM fucks Y/N rough, CC watches. CW: domestic violence, voyerusim, cucking, murder, masturbation, corey isn't sure if MM x Y/N (rough unsafe PIV) s consensual, graphic kill scene

Ch 3 (4k) You don't wanna do that - CC gives Y/M head. Plot: CC & Y/N clean up, talk about MM. CC fucks Y/N. CW: murder scene clean-up, cum eating, cunnilingus, very dubcon somnophilia

Ch 4 (6k) The Dark Path - Beef: Corey works out. CC goes out w/ AN, confrontation w/ DM. MM & CC kill DM. MM & CC up against each other Plot: implied cannibalism. MM fucks Y/N, CC watches. CW: murder, cannibalism (implied), unsafe/rough PIV.

Ch 5 (3.5k) Taste of God - CC's "IDK what's happening to me" panic. CC fucks AN. MM fucks CC in a dream. CC kills Dr., MM kills nurse. CC sucks MM cock. Y/N responds to scene CW: murder, bi panic, unsafe PIV, M/M anal in emotionally traumatic dream, blow job @ crime scene

Ch 6 (3.2k) Rock Hard - Y/N sucks CC, fucks CC, CC x Y/N x MM x CC x Y/N CW: extreme MMF threesome at crime scene with a body still canonically hanging on the wall

Rock Bottom Writer's Room (Corey chat) - behind the scenes

#rock bottom fic #corey cunningham x michael myers #michael myers x corey cunningham #michael myers x reader #toxicanonymity ☠️ #peepaw myers #love2cuck #rock bottom ☠️ #rock bottom fic ☠️

[toxicanonymity]

Rock Bottom Ch 5: Taste of God

3.5k words | Corey x Allyson (thinks about y/n & Michael), Corey x Michael (x2),

Corey is no longer in control of his actions, blinded by an incapacitating lust that overpowers his will to live.   He grabs the bulge in Michael's jumpsuit with his bloody hand, and his other hand begins to unzip it.  Corey is so hungry for Michael's cock he doesn't even stop to free his own from his pants.  As he lowers Michael's zipper, the large, calloused hands around his throat relax a little but don't fall away. 

Rock Bottom Index - All Chapters

Check out the art by @cordelium here 💙💙💙

please don't repost their work without permission. commission info

I really got into Corey's POV as you could tell from my recent surge of Michael thirst-posting lol. NSFW

Corey gets on his motorcycle and takes one last look at the entrance to the sewer.  That really happened.  They killed Doug Mulaney together, then they stood together against the wall, Michael's knife at Corey's throat, raging erections pressed so hard up against each other.  The feeling of Michael's hard length against him lingers, and there's a new hope swirling in his soul.  He rides to Allyson and Laurie’s house, exhilarated, reliving it all.  He keeps seeing Michael coming right at him,  stabbing Mulaney on his chest.  Michael, jacked full of dark energy, engorged by the kill.  

Corey has a completely different life than he did just days before.  Michael found him at the edge of darkness, grabbed him by the throat and said, "let's go!"  Corey has been in free fall since then, enjoying every seedy minute of it.  

As Corey gets closer to Allyson and Laurie's house, he has intrusive thoughts about the web he's weaving.  He really doesn't want to introspect - it's such a buzzkill.  But the old Corey is still hanging on somewhere inside him and loves to brood.   His feelings are a tangled mess of joy and gloom.  Lust and bloodthirst.  And in the heat of each moment, he's okay with it. But in the back of his mind as the high fades just a little, the possibilities spin like a mobile above a crib. He wants to sleep with Allyson and rub it in Laurie's face.  He wants to feel Michael inside him. He wants to be Michael inside of (Y/N).  He wants to fuck (Y/N) until she cries.  Why should he have to choose?  

He wants it all, but of course it's not that simple.  Most of the time, he’s graphically sure about what he wants from Michael, but there are moments where he wonders what could possibly come next.  He thinks about the things (Y/N) has said about Michael and wonders.  Really, how could she possibly know?  The fact that (Y/N) is supposedly off limits only makes him want her more.  He wants to find out.  And then there are the moments where he thinks Michael would be enough - that Michael could own him. 

His thoughts turn to Allyson as he parks his motorcycle outside her house.  He feels hope for who she could become - who they could become together.   And if he's honest with himself, he wants to take her from Laurie.  His core is pulled in so many directions.  He imagines himself in the Donnie Darko wormhole with multiple paths coming out of his core. 

Anxiety takes over.  By the time Corey knocks on the door, he's in tears.  Allyson's face says he must look like a wreck.  He's even more banged up than the last time she saw him.  “I don’t know what’s happening to me,” he says.  Her eyes blaze with desire.  She lets him in.

Corey’s inner turmoil fades away the moment their hands meet. 

***

Allyson unbuttons Corey's shirt on the way up the stairs, opens the door to her bedroom, then pulls Corey by his jacket onto her bed and he takes off the jacket and button-up.  She kisses him hungrily, pulls him into her with her legs, and as soon as she feels his hardness through his jeans, she unbuckles his belt.  There’s an urgency about her that Corey can relate to. He wonders if it’s contagious. 

Corey  kisses Allyson’s soft lips and pulls her tank top over her head, then she pulls his undershirt off.   He palms her breasts as they grind into each other desperately.  Allyson’s pale cheeks flush red as she frantically unbuttons and unzips him and her small hand grabs his package.   At the touch of her hand, Corey can only think of Michael, and his sense of urgency returns.  

In Corey's mind, Michael chokes Corey, stabs Mulaney, pins Corey against the wall, slices his jaw. . . 

Allyson gropes Corey needily.   Her tongue thrusts into his mouth as he unbuttons her jeans and she kicks out of them.  She looks so beautiful when she’s needy for him.  Her eyes are wild.  Her lips are red like a pin-up.   Corey pins her to the bed and sucks at her neck.  The hardness in his briefs meet the warmth of her panties.    

He grinds his arousal into her and thinks of his cock against Michael.  Allyson frees his stiff member from his briefs.  He shoves a massive hand into her panties and is greeted with the wettest warmth.  He needs to taste her.  He backs up as he pulls the garment  down slowly, kissing her stomach, and aims head downward, but Allyson yanks him back up.  She wants him inside her.   

Corey thinks of Michael inside (Y/N) and his cock hardens even more.

“I need you,” she says as she pulls him up by the underarms.  He kisses her ribcage before he obliges.  Once he’s close enough,  she grabs his swollen package again.  She closes her eyes as she massages it and spreads her legs, bringing it close enough that her pinky grazes her wetness as she moves the skin of his shaft.  Corey lays his cock down against her pubic bone first, then she moves it to her entrance and he hears her loud and clear.  With one thrust, he  plunges into Allyson.  She gasps at the stretch of his girth. 

He has intrusive thoughts about killing Allyson's ex, Mulaney, with Michael.  

Corey’s cock swells even thicker.  Allyson feels it and her lips part with a small sigh.  He thrusts into her, and she pulls his body into hers.  She wants it all, and he doesn’t hold back.   He plunges into her with all the power and passion that’s pent up in his core, and he does it again, and again.  She melts and moans and mewls, and he only pushes harder.    

Corey lasts longer than he has in days.  Allyson comes, whining his name, fingering his hair. Clenching around his cock again and again, moaning obscenely –  he hopes Laurie can hear – until her whole body relaxes under him and she looks at him, her eyelids heavy with love or lust.  Corey tells her he’s close, and Allyson slides out from under him, releasing his cock.  She pushes him down on his back.  She puts her hair up with a ribbon from her wrist, and promptly replaces her warmth with her pretty little head between his legs.  Her ponytail starts to come loose as she sucks his cock with gusto. 

As Corey gets ready to come, his mind is just Michael stabbing - his knife into Mulaney, his cock into (Y/N).  

His ass clenches and the tension releases all at once with a pulsing deep in his ass and an eruption – no, several — of cum into Allyson’s mouth.  She looks up at him with doe eyes as she swallows, her eyes watery. 

Corey looks at Allyson and sees an angel.  One he doesn’t deserve, but one that can fall – or, preferably,  is already falling.  He snuggles up behind her and puts his arm over her.  She takes his hand in hers and traces the wound.  Corey thinks about the way the doctor spoke to her and his veins run cold.  

***

As Corey drifts off, he falls off a bridge and into a dark river as warm as it is violent.  He has no desire to swim to shore.  He's swimming lazily, almost floating, with the current.  It carries him from fuck to kill to fuck with flashes of the last few days. 

Then, he dreams of Halloween 2019.  The opulent front door is open.  Corey is searching desperately for Jeremy and worrying more and more about Michael Myers as he steps into the attic.  Jeremy’s nowhere in sight, but Corey’s mother, Joan, is there.  The door slams behind him.  

"Corey, there's my baby. You want some custard?" Joan unbuttons her sweater and takes his head in both hands.  As she tries to pull his head closer, Corey's muscular neck stiffens in disgust.  

Out of nowhere, the huge, silver knife from the kitchen gleams behind Joan and her face contorts as it penetrates her back.  Joan begins to fall into Corey, then the mask comes into focus behind her.  Michael Myers catches Joan by the hair and yanks her head back toward him.  The knife slices Joan's neck, and as blood splatters onto Corey’s glasses, a wave of relief showers him, too.   Michael lets Joan’s body fall to the floor in a heap and steps over it.  Michael and Corey stand still and Corey gazes through his blood splattered glasses into the warm dark holes of the mask for what feels like forever until he forgets all about Joan. 

Michael lets the knife fall to the ground and outstretches his arms.   Corey steps forward, hesitantly, into Michael’s broad chest, then relaxes as the large arms engulf him, and Corey feels the strong embrace of a man for the first time in his adult life.   The arms tighten around Corey and his core tingles.  As soon as Corey’s cock begins to stiffen, the arms tighten more and he can't breathe.  He begins wriggling and thrashing, and Michael abruptly lets go, but then Corey feels cold and desperate for his arms.  Michael grabs Corey by the throat and slams him into the attic door, and Corey's arousal swells stronger.  

Corey reaches for the mask.  His fingers tremble as they  lift the bottom edge of the off-white rubber, then Michael’s large hand grabs the mask by the face and removes it. Michael’s  face and hair looks exactly like the mask.  His skin is chiseled but leathered.  The should-be whites of his eyes are a glistening black.  Michael stands perfectly still and breathes heavily as Corey reaches for the zipper of Michael’s jumpsuit. 

As he begins to pull Michael's zipper, Corey finds himself nude.  Michael turns him around and violently shoves him against the door face-first and Corey’s breath hitches.   Michael breathes loudly in Corey's ear and Corey feels a stiff, pulsing heat meet the small of his back then drag wetly down and up his crack.  Corey's lungs are floating in his chest and pleasure shoots from his shaft, through his balls, to his ass, and pulses. He’s rock hard.  

Michael's cock wedges head-up between Corey's cheeks, grinds against him, then slides down, finds his hole, and forces its way inside.  Corey shudders as he's impaled and feels every bit as full and alive as he knew he would.  Michael thrusts again and hits Corey’s most sensitive spot, the one no one has ever touched before, not even himself, the one that throbs at the thought of Michael who continues to bury his length in Corey again and again, banging him hard against the attic door until the door begins to weaken as Corey erupts in his sleep.    

The attic door disintegrates and Corey falls over the bannister.  As he tumbles through the air nude, he looks up at the attic door.  “Michael,” he tries to call out, but the shape in the attic door is Corey himself holding the mask. 

Corey wakes up just before he hits the floor.  His briefs are damp and he’s grateful he never fully discarded them. Allyson is stirring.  

Allyson rolls over toward him and speaks.  "Did you. . ."

Heat washes over his face. 

"Did you say 'Michael'?"

“It was a nightmare,” he tells her.  

She kisses him and falls back to sleep, but Corey doesn’t.   He slides out of bed and gets dressed.  He doesn’t wake her up, but he leaves a sweet note: “Great night.  See you later <3”

When he goes downstairs, he smiles smugly at Laurie on his way out the door. “Nice seeing you again, Laurie.”  

-

When Allyson’s clinic is about to close, Corey rides his motorcycle there and parks out of view with his scarecrow mask in tow.  He watches as Dr. Mathis gets into his Porsche with Deb from the Halloween party, then follows them to the doctor’s house. 

Corey creeps around the doctor's property and into the courtyard.  He grabs a drycleaning bag from the garbage and waits.  When the doctor goes inside, humming obnoxiously, Corey grabs a corkscrew from the faux romantic set-up by the fire pit and hides on the other side of the sliding door waiting for him to come back out.  As the doctor reemerges and starts crossing the courtyard, Corey sneaks up from behind and covers the doctor's head in a drycleaning bag.  

The doctor grabs at the bag and gasps for air and Corey tightens the bag around him with one large hand, coming down to his knees as the Doctor weakens and his considerable weight falls against Corey.  Corey then holds the corkscrew between his thick fingers and stabs him in the neck through the plastic.  The doctor's chest rises and falls as he tries desperately to breathe.  As he squirms and thrashes his head, blood smears around inside the bag.  Dr. Mathis finally stops struggling.  

-

A sliding door opens and Deb sticks her head out. "Dr. Mathis.?! " She steps forward and sees Corey in his scarecrow mask holding Dr. Mathis in the dry cleaning bag full of blood.  As Deb panics to get back inside, Corey drops the doctor and races to  the sliding door.  She slams his injured hand in the door several times before managing to close and lock it and grab the phone to call 911.  She recognizes Corey's mask from the Halloween party, and no one could mistake his strong, husky figure and curly hair.  Deb looks at Corey like he's the psycho she always thought.  The look wounds and enrages Corey. 

Corey sees something.  Yes, behind Deb, Michael Myers lurks in the shadows.  Corey's heart swells and his whole body feels warm and light. He bangs on the glass for Michael to let him in.  Michael lumbers toward Deb and snatches her by the throat, not missing a single beat in his heavy stride toward the wall.  As Michael slams Deb up against the large, abstract painting, Corey lifts up his mask and watches intently, unraveling his bandage, giving up on healing, letting the blood flow out, letting all of Michael flow in.  He wants to absorb as much as he can from Michael.  An incapacitating need floods Corey's body and thickens his cock as he watches his master effortlessly lift Deb by the throat.  He holds her against the wall, her feet off the ground. 

Michael stabs Deb in the chest with an enormous knife, pinning her through the art to the wall.  Her feet dangle from the ground.  Corey doubles over in arousal and presses his huge bloody hand to the glass, gazing lustily at Michael.  Corey is utterly his, soaking up Michael’s warm, thick, dark energy.  Michael slowly turns his head to return Corey's gaze.   The intimacy and intensity of the moment between them sends Corey to another level.  His chest heaves and he palms himself with his free hand.  Michael holds the gaze for a moment then admires his work on the wall before abruptly walking through the kitchen and exiting into the courtyard.  

***

Corey needs him so bad he can hardly breathe, but Michael is walking away.  Corey can't let him leave.  "No!," He yells   Corey hobbles, tripping over himself, scrambling to reach Michael while he's still in the courtyard.  He manages to catch up and cut Michael off.  Michael swiftly grabs Corey by the throat, slams him up against the outside of the house, and pins him to the wall with his thigh, adding his second hand around Corey’s neck.  "YES," Corey croaks, and locks eyes with the dark holes of the mask.  His arousal throbs into Michael's thigh and he can feel the hard shape of Michael's length against him once again. 

Corey is no longer in control of his actions, blinded by an incapacitating lust that overpowers his will to live.   He grabs the bulge in Michael's jumpsuit with his bloody hand and his other hand begins to unzip it.  Corey is so hungry for Michael's cock he doesn't even stop to free his own from his pants.  As he lowers Michael's zipper, the large, calloused hands around his throat relax a little but don't fall away. 

With Michael’s jumpsuit open, rays of light might as well burst from between his legs. It’s Corey’s first time seeing what Michael’s packing up close.  Corey's massive hands wrap around the stiff, veiny shaft.  Pre-cum beads at the monstrous tip and Corey salivates.  He looks back and forth between the mask’s eye holes, his brows furrowed, silently asking, begging for his cock.  Michael lets Corey's head slip through his fingers as Corey begins to fall to his knees.  

Corey admires the monster cock head-on just briefly before wrapping his mouth around the head desperately, like it might slip away.  He thinks to himself, so this is what God tastes like.  He unhinges his jaw and curls his lips over his teeth. He slurps the cock into his mouth, sucking hard enough to pull his head down on the shaft.  The girth barely fits in his mouth, and the length certainly doesn’t.  It requires his hands.  Corey sucks from the back of his throat and his eyes water.  He slowly drags the O of his mouth up and down trying to fit a little more of Michael down his throat each time.  The head nudges past his tonsils.  He unseals his mouth briefly to collect some drool as lube for his hands to stroke the rest that doesn't fit. He even dares to cradle Michael's balls for a moment.   

Michael, initially frozen, cradles Corey's head, nestling his large fingers in Corey's locks, causing the scarecrow mask to fall off the top of his head.  The gesture of acceptance has Corey feeling high as a kite.  He looks up with his dark, watery eyes and the mask looks down at him.  He can hardly believe this is happening.  Michael Audrey Myers is gazing down at Corey, cradling his head as he sucks him off.  Corey feels chosen.   

He wants to please Michael better than anyone else possibly could.  He lacks experience and relies largely on instinct, but it seems to come naturally.  He uses his tongue and the pressure of his teeth through his lips and sucks with his throat, creating a vacuum around the shaft.  Michael is tall.  Corey sits up higher on his knees to try more of a downward angle.  Michael moans softly and looks upward as his abdomen flexes against Corey's forehead.  The tears in Corey‘s eyes threaten to overtake his waterline already.  Corey's throat bobs as he continues sucking and stroking, then feels a twitch in his mouth, followed by a pang in his taint and that special place.  

Michael's hands begin to move Corey's head, shoving his length down his throat.  Corey gags and he likes it.  He’s grateful for every thrust, every inch. His mouth is stretched so wide the corners hurt.  And he's drooling.  His eyes prickle and tears run down his cheeks.  Then, Michael’s cock pulses and Corey’s mouth pulses with it.  

Michael places one hand against the wall and his other hand engulfs the crown of Corey's head, forcing him down on his cock as he erupts in Corey's throat. The pulsations are so strong, bursting every two seconds, the swell of his cock filing Corey’s mouth as cum trickles down his throat.  Corey struggles to keep his mouth sealed, not wanting to waste a single drop of Michael's seed.  He swallows with every pump.  

When Michael is finished, he takes his hands off the wall and Corey's hair. Corey lets go of this cock with a kiss and looks up again, desperate for Michael's approval.  But, Michael doesn't look back.  He merely zips up his jumpsuit and continues walking the same direction he was going, like nothing happened.  Corey is left on his knees, painfully hard, alone, and rejected.  And yet, he’s also brimming with joy that Michael is inside him, in a way.  Such a vital part of Michael is inside him, and he can feel it in every part of his being. 

-

Corey uses his sweater to wipe drool off his mouth and massages his jaw.   Then, he unbuckles his jeans.  He closes his eyes and his large hand strokes his throbbing, aching member, still feeling the ghost of Michael against his body and in his mouth.  He's startled by the sound of faint footsteps and opens his eyes to red and blue flashing lights illuminating the fog over the fence toward the street. 

The lights go dark, and the footsteps grow clearer. Corey puts his dick away, crouches low to the ground, and scurries into the shadows, past the sliding door, against the outside wall of the house.  He's squatting down next to the glass, still in need of relief, but he tries hard to focus. As he looks for somewhere to hide, static sounds from a walkie talkie.  

"Haddonfield Sheriff's Office,"  (Y/N)'s voice announces.  A bright light approaches.  

_______________________________________

Continue with Chapter 6

_______________________________________

#corey cunningham smut #michael myers smut #corey cunningham x michael myers #michael myers x corey cunningham #rock bottom fic #rock bottom ch 5 #custard #corey cunningham #michael myers #toxicanonymity ☠️ #rock bottom ☠️ #rock bottom fic ☠️

[toxicanonymity]

Rock Bottom Ch 1 - In the Womb of God

Words: 2.2k chapter, 22k+ overall.

Chapter Pairing: Corey Cunningham x Corey Cunningham; Corey Cunningham x Michael Myers (unconsummated)

Summary: Corey wakes up in the sewer and gets choked by Michael, which arouses something in him, in more than one way. He jerks off. This fic is from Corey's POV and he's obsessed with Michael, including sexually, but he is very into women as well (so is Michael).

Yeah, the chapter is named after a bible study book that came up in a reverse-image search looking for that gif of Corey's silhouette leaving the sewer

18+ Choking, jacking off, fantasizing TW: Brief reference to suicide-adjacent thinking

After leaving the Halloween Party and storming off from Allyson, Corey Cunningham was in a very bad place.  The party was the first time Corey got up the courage to go out in public and really let loose since before Jeremy Allen's accident.  For a moment on the dance floor, he wondered why he had waited so long to try living again.  Seconds later, he came face to face with Jeremy's mom, who cruelly reminded him he had no future worth living for, especially not in Haddonfield.  The light at the end of the tunnel had been a mirage.  Corey wouldn't be one to kill himself, but he was at the lowest of lows and didn't care if he lived or died.   

When Terry and his crew pulled over, Corey had nothing to lose and only knew he couldn't keep being the Haddonfield punching bag. When he plummeted off the bridge, he was already a shell of a man, worn down and hollowed out.  If evil was infectious, Corey's immune system was severely compromised as he lay unconscious and empty on the ground.

-

Corey had the kind of night where you wake up the next morning and just want to crawl in a hole, but when he woke up, he was already in one.   As he stirred and opened his eyes, he felt grime on his clothes and air on his skin where his jeans had torn.  He was damp from head to toe. Even his cotton underwear was slimy.  Corey reached in his pants and adjusted himself. 

Judging by the size of his member, he must have been freezing, yet he didn't feel cold.   He didn't feel anything.  Corey blinked for at least a minute, but nothing came into focus.  His mind flashed to his glasses, crushed by Terry on the side of the road.   Visually, Corey could only make out that he was surrounded by rock or concrete.  There were other clues though, like rats, and the plink of dripping water. He was underground. 

Despite the nasty circumstances, Corey felt sheltered and unseen, which was a best case scenario.  For Corey, to be seen was to be shamed or pitied.   Wherever he found himself now, there was a comfort to this void.  He felt unborn. Corey lay there on the ground until a dusty beam of light assaulted his eyes and stirred him back to reality. 

On one hand, the obvious thing to do would be to follow the light and climb out of the hole, but that would mean facing Haddonfield, which had already chewed him up and spit him out.  Instead, he felt drawn in the opposite direction, deeper into the dark.  It might hold rabid animals, jagged debris, or even a crackhead, but nothing that compared to the emotional hazards on the other side of the drain.  Corey would welcome whatever hazard lurked in the shadows.  If evil was infectious, his immune system was severely compromised. 

Corey struggled to his feet and surveyed the space.  Behind him, there was a perfect circle of light.  The plinking of water drops told him it was a metal drainage pipe.  The circle had opened into a rougher space where Corey woke up.  It felt like a cave.  Corey started hobbling toward the darker end of the space, holding his injured palm in his good hand and squinting in a fruitless effort to adjust his eyes. 

Still nothing came into focus, but there appeared to be crevasses in the walls, with an even darker void beyond them. There seemed to be no end in sight.  Corey tripped over something that made a hollow-sounding clatter.  He looked down, and his eyes betrayed him - it appeared to be a human jaw.   There was a similar clatter as he stepped forward.  Corey shuffled closer to the wall to help keep his bearings. 

As Corey inched close enough to hug the cool stone wall, out of nowhere, part of the wall seemed to lunge out, and a leathery human hand was firm around his throat.  Corey gagged as his whole body was yanked upward and toward the wall.    Corey’s lungs gasped for air and the soles of his shoes scraped the ground in search of footing. 

He reflexively wrapped his hand around the arm that held him, trying to tug it looser in search of room to breathe, but the grip only tightened.  With impossible strength, the leathered hand forced Corey close enough to the crevasse to see he was face to face with Michael Myers.  Corey continued to struggle for air, and now he couldn’t blink.  He felt penetrated by the eyes he could not see behind the mask. He stared into the mask and saw warm black holes with flickers of his own reflection.  He stopped struggling.   

Corey was dwarfed and consumed by Michael's presence.  It was a rush to yield control to something so powerful.  With Michael’s hand around Corey’s neck, and Corey’s face inches from Michael’s mask, his body was flooded with adrenaline and something he didn't yet understand.  Corey let himself change shape in Michael's hand, and his blood began to rush with new warmth and pleasure.  He was electrified.  His nipples and balls began to tingle, and his cock twitched.

The blurred mask sharpened into scratched, chiseled features.  Almost as soon as Corey had given in, Michael released him with a gentle shove.  Corey gasped, refilling his lungs with oxygen as Michael faded into the wall.  Regaining his balance and his breath, Corey expected to collapse from the exertion of his initial struggle, but instead his muscles surged with new life and his loins swelled with heat.   He braced himself there for a moment, hands on his knees, chest heaving, soaking up the energy that continued to vibrate through him.  

Part of Corey longed to stay underground, even back in Michael's grip, but a stronger part of him compelled him back toward the outside world.   Corey crawled through the round pipe and it expelled him into the homeless encampment yard where he was swiftly attacked by a hobo and fatally stabbed him in self defense.  

As Corey watched the life drain from the man, he felt the exact opposite of how he felt watching Jeremy’s blood leave his body a few years earlier.   He felt invigorated and empowered.  His transformation wasn’t just psychological - Miraculously, Corey could now see without his glasses, but even more surprising, he wasn’t afraid of being seen.  He didn't think about the past. He didn't want to disappear.  He wanted to take control.  

As he left the scene, Corey felt the ghost of that leathered hand on his throat and felt pangs of desire in his gut, chest, and taint.   His cock twitched again.  He remembered the way Allyson had looked at him hungrily the night before.  Corey had to have her, and his damp briefs began to strain, begging him to get on with it.  His hormones told him to go straight to Allyson but he was still coherent enough to know he'd have to shower first if he had any hope of bedding her.   Corey reluctantly started the walk home to Joan and Ronald's house instead.  

On the walk home, he tried to distract himself with efforts to piece together what happened the night before after Terry ran him off the road.   The back of his jeans and sweater were caked in mud, so he must have landed on his back, but he wasn't sore. The gash on his hand was ripped open too, and seeping something black - it didn’t hurt either. 

From the height of the bridge, he was lucky he was alive. Corey found himself hoping that Michael had brought him into his lair deliberately.  Michael Myers was a predator.  That would make Corey prey – a curious thing to want for oneself.  It was a foregone conclusion that Corey would return to the sewer, it was just a matter of when.  First, he wanted to make up with Allyson and fuck her brains out.  Another reason for going to Allyson? Conveniently, no one knew Michael better than her family.  

***

Joan was hysterical that Corey hadn't come home the night before, but Corey pushed past her on the stairs and ignored her completely for once, locking himself in the restroom.   For a moment, he could hear the muffled drone of Joan's crying outside the door, but it faded as he looked in the mirror. 

The man staring back at him was not the boy who got bullied by band kids.  Wilder curls framed darker eyes.   A gash adorned his hardened jaw.  His nostrils flared.  For all his efforts to calm himself on the walk home, his hard-on had returned and his need was surging.  

Corey resolved to take a cold shower and get to Allyson.  He would give her the best fuck of her life.  He hurriedly pulled his dark cranberry sweater up and over his curly hair, and in the mirror he was surprised to see the muscles of his broad chest and shoulders straining his filthy white undershirt as his chest heaved. 

Either he was physically pumped up from the action or he was finally seeing himself with clear eyes.  He was filthy and banged up, but the only thing that hurt was his throbbing erection.   Corey palmed his arousal through his jeans and peeled off the soiled undershirt.  His hard pecs were relatively unscathed aside from his excited nipples being slightly raw from the chafing of his wet shirt.  

Corey kicked off his shoes as he frantically unbuckled his jeans and slid them down over the bulge in his briefs and his muscular thighs.  He wanted to save his arousal for Allyson, but the friction was too much. He left his jeans half on and yanked down his briefs to free his cock. 

A swollen pink head slapped against his stomach, catapulted by a girthy shaft. He doubled over, bracing himself with one hand on the wall, and winced as he gripped his shaft with his cold and filthy hand. His balls shrank into him slightly but the erection swelled on.  He admired it in his hand. 

He was the same familiar length, but the girth took his breath away.  Normally, he could close his fingers around his shaft with ease, considering his large hands. Today, it was more of a reach.   Corey desperately kicked off his jeans and briefs and turned on the hot water instead of the cold.  

Corey tried to slow his breathing as he waited for the water to warm up.  He used a thumb to caress the head of his manhood, which was already weeping.  Pleasure shot through his lower back.  As he wrapped his fingers around the shaft, he felt it pulse against his fingers like it had its own heartbeat.   His mind flashed back to the sewer with Michael's hand around his throat, his jugular vein pulsing rapidly against Michael's callous fingers. 

Corey began stroking himself.  He thought about kissing Allyson in the photo booth the night before, dancing with her, feeling her lace sleeves on his skin and admiring her fishnet tights.   He ran his hand up and down his length in rhythm as hot water wet his curly hair and the filth began to roll off him, gray water trickling toward the drain.  

Corey tried to imagine what it would feel like fucking Allyson, but in between images of her milky breasts and spread legs, Corey's mind kept drifting back to the mask.  Corey resisted this at first.  He replaced the image of the mask with a vision of Allyson touching herself.  He saw the mask again and tried to conjure the sensation of Allyson's lips around his cock.   When that failed, he tried to access what little spank bank he had - losing his virginity in a green station wagon, hard nipples grazing his chest as the windows fogged, a soft ass bouncing on his upper thighs as she slid up and down his cock.  

Despite his efforts, the only tactile fantasy Corey could conjure as he stroked himself was the large hand around his throat, a thought that made his member spasm, followed by intrusive thoughts of the hand gripping him elsewhere.  Corey groaned.  Desperate for relief, he succumbed to his vision of the mask, letting it once again stare into his soul as he jerked faster.   The water got hotter, nearly scalding his skin.  Corey tightened his grip, hastened his stroke, and closed his eyes. 

He could feel the hand tightening around him.  He could hear Michael’s breath loud in the mask.  Corey's breath quickened and his knees felt weak.  His body remembered the electricity it felt in Michael's grip.  His ass clenched and his cock erupted.  He unleashed one rope after another of hot, thick come.  Three…….four….… five…….. He had to steady himself on the shower bar.  

Corey let a breathy groan escape the back of his throat as the last of his cum was spent.  He had never come that hard in his life.   He watched his spend circle the drain, then closed his eyes.   He stood there breathing for a moment, cradling his deflating member, grateful for the relief that washed over him. 

When he was finished showering, he turned off the water and stepped out of the tub and into the steam that had filled the bathroom.  He wrapped himself in a towel and wiped the fog off the mirror.  He leaned his head back and inspected his thick neck, caressing the red marks gently, which sent a pang of pleasure to his ass.  His brow furrowed and his eyes began to well up.  

--------

Notes: did anyone else notice the giant penis graffiti when Corey comes out of the sewer IN CANON?

Rock Bottom Chapters

#michael myers x corey cunningham #slasher smut #michael myers fanfic #corey cunningham smut #halloween ends #corey cunningham x corey cunningham #everyone is bi #bisexual!corey cunningham #michael does things to people #corey cunningham x michael myers #rock bottom fic #toxicanonymity ☠️ #rock bottom ☠️ #rock bottom fic ☠️

[toxicanonymity]

Who's that calling you under the dinner table?

Reader, you slut

#sluttified!corey cunningam #corey cunningham x reader #corey cunningham x michael myers #michael myers #michael myers x reader #rock bottom fic #who's that calling you under the dinner table #corey cunningham #michael myers x corey cunningham #toxicanonymity ☠️

[toxicanonymity]

Corey and I write a fic

2.5k words | Corey x everyone 

Corey and I are writing our ongoing fic and bickering about what a mess he’s making by fucking everyone.  This is goofy AF but also pretty accurate at times. Jake & Amir AU, kind of?

-

[Rock Bottom Ch 2, , Corey watches through a window and jerks off while Michael fucks Y/N.  Michael leaves her on the floor alive]

Corey: That was hot AF.  I could watch Michael fuck Y/N all day. 

Me: Are you excited about your next scene with Michael? We just have a little transition, then-

Corey:  Wait. We’re just going to leave Y/N on the floor like that?

Me: Yeah.

Corey: Wow.

Me: Don’t look at me like that. Come on.

Corey: I just feel like we’re not done here. . . 

Corey gazes at Y/N hornily. 

Me: Oh my god, you literally JUST came. 

Corey:  Why’d you give her a name then?

Me: Is that how you think this works? If someone has a name, you need to fuck them?

Corey shrugs.

Corey: I don’t know why you’d give her a name then leave her on the floor like that and make me leave.

Me: Because this story is about you and Michael.  

Corey: I know, as it should be.  And wow, I’m suddenly getting really thirsty.

Me: No. . . 

Corey: Do you know how much of Michael's cum is inside Y/N right now?  Do you really think I’d let that go to waste? 

Me: Oh, no. 

Corey: You know the answer. It's right in here.

Corey acts like he’s going to pat his heart, then veers to his pants.

Me: I mean, it’s pretty nasty. 

Corey: We love nasty.

Me: I’m just not sure the readers–

Corey: Fuck the readers.  That’s what you’re always telling me. 

Me: Not in that w--You know what? You’re right.  You can't let his cum go to waste. FML.

_______________________________________

[Rock Bottom Ch 3: Corey gives Y/N head, ravenous for Michael’s cum]

_______________________________________

Corey: I told you that was going to be hot.

Me: I guess we’ll find out if anyone else thinks so.  Happy now? Can we go? 

Corey:  While I’m here, I should spend some time with her, talk to her about Michael and stuff. 

Me: Okay, good idea. 

Corey: And maybe one thing leads to another. . .

Me: Oh my god, seriously?? You just came twice in like 15 minutes. 

Corey: But have you come? 

Me: Y/N just came, too! Like really hard!

Corey:  Wow, thanks for clarifying - I wasn't sure about that when you said I could feel her pulsations through my nose. 

Corey rolls his eyes. 

Corey: I'm not asking about Y/N.  I’m asking about you.  

Me: *blushes* that’s actually none of your business. 

Corey: It's completely my business. I'm inside you. 

Bright red, squirming, shrinking into my shirt.

Corey:  Yeah, exactly. What about what *you* want? I know you want me to fuck her. 

Me: I want to progress the story and that won't happen if you can’t go 5 min without getting off.  

Corey: It doesn’t have to be right away.  She and I could spend the whole night together. 

Me: Look, we’ll write you a one-shot later.  We’re never going to get back to Michael  if you stop to fuck everyone you see. 

Corey: I can’t help myself.  Michael let me live, and now I’m "sluttified."

Me: Yeah, apparently so. 

Corey: And you don’t want to explore that?

Deep in thought, trying not to be manipulated. 

Me: Ugh, you know I have a soft spot for your sluttification. I know we joke about it, but I do think there's something to it. Like Michael's energy bores this hole in you and it becomes this growing void of darkness only he can fill. But naturally, you try. . .

Corey:  So let me and Y/N fill each other's voids for a night. 

Sigh.

Corey: Please, I don’t want to go home to Joan.

Me: Yeah, I guess I don’t want you to either. 

Corey: Spoiler alert, I’ll think about Michael at least a little bit when I fuck her.  I know that turns you on.

Me: . . .Alright, go ahead. 

Corey: Can I wear her clothes while I do it?

Me: Absolutely.

_______________________________________

[Rock Bottom Ch 3: Corey spends the night with Y/N]

[Rock Bottom Ch 4: Corey brings Mulaney to Michael and they kill him together in that extremely sexual scene from the movie, then Michael and Corey have their first sexual moment.] 

_______________________________________

Corey: Can Y/N come back now?

Me: What? I just gave you that hot moment with Michael and you want Y/N back? You literally just felt Michael’s hard cock against you.

Corey: Yeah and you’re the one who didn’t let him fuck me yet. 

Me: Yet? Look, I’m still not sure–

Corey: You didn’t even let me suck his dick 

Me: I promise you will have his dick in your mouth soon. I just felt like we weren’t quite there yet. 

Corey (pouting): So you’re giving me an incapacitating case of blue balls?

Me: Gross, don't say that. IDK wtf I’m doing.

Corey: She admits it! If I'm going to jerk off again, can I at least watch Michael fuck Y/N?

Me: You're not going to jerk off. Plus, you’ve already watched Michael fuck Y/N.

Corey: I've watched Michael fuck Y/N at a crime scene. But have I watched them surrounded by skeletons?? Have we even acknowledged Michael as a cannibal?

Me: Ugh, I would really like to make it through at least one chapter without you jerking off. If at all possible.  

Corey:  Fine, but I can still watch them, right? Maybe I’m trying not to be seen this time, so it’s kinda different? Dangerous?

Me: You want to watch them without jerking off? . . . Are you cool with coming in your pants?

Corey: Always. Come on, you know this. 

_______________________________________

[Rock Bottom Ch 4 : Corey secretly watches Michael fuck Y/N, then leaves on his motorcycle]

_______________________________________

Me: Where are you going? 

Corey: To fuck Allyson.

Rubbing my temples. 

Me: This is too much.

Corey: Michael and Y/N are busy.

Me: So? You JUST came!  You don't need to be fucking someone every second. 

Corey: You're the one who wants to weave in and out of canon.  You do realize Allyson is like the main character other than me.  

Me: Yes, and that's boring.  If we skip it, you'll get back to Michael sooner. . . 

Corey: But don't you want me to have my bi panic first, like, "IDK what's happening to me??”

Me: Ugh, fine. But this is getting so out of control that we have to acknowledge it.  You’re going to have to get introspective on the ride there, and I don't like that.  

Corey: It’ll take like two paragraphs.  I can be introspective, I'm not some himbo.

Me: You're a simp for Michael. It's not supposed to be that complicated.

Corey: It's not that complicated. 

Me: It's complicated because of how you act about Allyson. 

Corey:  I mean, for all you know, I’m just trying to take her from Laurie. 

Me: Yeah, I don’t think it’s that simple.  Like, Allyson was the first person to accept you, and, Jesus, do you have to be so pathetic?

Corey:  Ouch.  

_______________________________________

Me: Sorry, I didn’t mean that.  But when you insist on getting off every 5 min, especially when you have all these feelings, it's a mess and very time consuming for me. 

Corey: I thought you liked spending time with me.

Me: I do. I just don't want it to always be sexual.

Corey (smugly): Okay we both know that's not true.

Me (blushing): I mean, not when we're trying to work. Don’t you want us to give people, like, a little more than sex? Don’t you want to explore the complexities of your relationship with Michael?

Corey's eyes darken and his chest begins to rise and fall.  He wets his lips as he looks me up and down, then looks down at himself. 

Me (composing myself): Can you not??

Corey: Are you sure? Because we could take a break instead of dealing with all my pathetic feelings. 

Me: You're not pathetic.  You are making a mess though, and that makes it hard.

Corey: You're telling me. 

Corey looks down at himself again 

Me:  Yeah I'm not going to look, okay? 

_______________________________________

Corey (with an air of smugness): You know, if it's that much of a mess, Maybe you never should have given me Y/N.

Corey shrugs condescendingly.

Me: Ya think?? I didn't give you her, BTW. I gave her to Michael, then you INSISTED on sharing her. 

Corey: You didn't have to make me feel anything for her, though. You were projecting. 

Me: Whoa, out of line. You have a unique shared experience of being left alive by Michael. That’s kind of special.  Also, are you kidding? You're totally the type to get attached that quickly.

Corey: And you're not?

Me: Stop. 

_______________________________________

Corey starts cracking up laughing. 

Corey: Holy shit, just imagining you in my situation. And Michael leaves a hot guy Y/N on the floor.  There’s no WAY you could resist.  You think you’d leave without fucking him?  No way dude.  Oh my god, I’m dying to see you sluttified.  God, what a mess.  I mean, super hot, but -

Me: How are you so sure I'd want a hot guy Y/N?

Corey: Oh come on, we both know you love cock.  Plus, I'm a. . .

Me: Oh my god.  Are you trying to make yourself into a self-insert again? 

Corey: Whaaat? No. . . It’s really not a bad idea, though.  You know, there are a lot of male readers who would love to be me and fuck Michael.  

Me: Who is even the third person in that scenario? 

Corey: There was never supposed to be a third person, remember?  You fucked up by giving a victim a name.  And naming her Y/N, no less. Lmaoooo. As if that wouldn’t take on a life of its own. 

Me: Honestly, I can’t even remember if there was supposed to be–

Corey: WAIT! Can we do an AU where Michael leaves a reader alive and the reader is following Michael around, and I'm the one Michael fucks and leaves on the floor, and reader comes in and sucks my dick?

Me: I mean, if that reader is using your same logic, they wouldn’t be sucking your dick, they’d be eating your ass.  Assuming that’s where Michael’s cum is.  

Corey is salivating. 

Me: I’m just not sure readers want-

Corey: Fuck the readers! Come on, you know we’ve got something here.  

Me: Jesus Christ. 

Sighs, opens google docs, types a note, closes it. 

Me: Okay, can you let me think now? 

_______________________________________

Me: I can't believe I'm saying this, but if you fuck Allyson, I think you need to have a wet dream about Michael, too. 

Corey: HELL YEAH.  Even though I "just came" with Allyson?

Me: Shut up. 

Corey: So, in the dream, can Michael fuck me?

Me: Oh yeah, he has to fuck you. 

Corey: Wait. What's the catch? 

Me (uncomfortable): Well, first, in the dream, you’re going to have to see Joan. 

Corey: Oh my god, what the fuck? Why??

Me: So Michael can kill her then give you the fatherly embrace you've always longed for. 

Corey sighs. 

Corey: Fine. 

Corey's eyes well up in tears.

Me: Hey, come here.  It's okay. It's okay.  You're finally about to get railed. 

_______________________________________

[Rock Bottom Ch 5: Corey fucks Allyson, then Michael fucks him in a dream. Corey kills the Dr. and Michael kills the nurse. Corey sucks Michael’s cock.] 

Corey: How long are you going to pace around this bed staring at us?  I really don't care which hole I get, just stick me in one. 

_______________________________________

The MMF Threesome

Me: Thanks for being a team player but it's the composition of the visual, ok? I wanted you guys in the Mulaney pose but that puts you in Y/N's ass unless we flip her back over and I don't like all the flipping. 

Corey: why don't you want me in Y/N's ass?

Me: For one, IDK if you're done with her other hole for the day. Michael will just peace out so that's a non-factor for him. 

Corey: Oh my god, you're worried about infections?  If you don't finish this scene soon, I'm just going to come on her back. 

_______________________________________

Corey: Why is the Mulaney pose important to you? 

Me: Because it was groundbreaking cinema? 

Corey: You could have written it both ways by now and just chosen whichever worked best. 

Me: that's actually a good point.

_______________________________________

Corey: Are you positioning us on Magic Poser in the middle of chick-fil-a? 

Me: . . . 

Corey: Whoa, who's the guy? Why are you showing him? 

Me: my partner, because I don't have a dick and I need to know the physical feasibility of a position I couldn't find online 

Corey: He's hot

Mee: Yeah, he wouldn't, sorry

Corey: Your loss

_______________________________________

Corey: If you're getting caught up in what you want, just pretend it's two of me instead of me and Michael. 

Me:  Lol how would that help?

Corey: You don't want Michael so you'll just stick him wherever you want me less.

Me: LooolI I don't want Michael?

Corey:  We never do anything that's just Michael. I'm always in the scene. Coincidence? 

Me: No, it's not a coincidence lmao it's your POV. You have stories without him, he has ones without you. 

Corey: What? Why don't I get to help write Michael? Wait. Does he help? Does he speak? 

Me: No, he doesn't speak. 

Corey: Why don't you get him over here, ask him what he wants to do, and he can show us?   

Me: There's no one for him to kill here

Corey: He can kill Y/N, get her over here too. 

Me: Why are you trying to kill off Y/N? You like Y/N

Corey: You give me a new one like every other day, and you don't let me play with more than one at a time, so what's the point in keeping all of them alive?  

Me: You have a point, but no, definitely not 

Corey: You just don't wanna know what she looks like. 

_______________________________________

[Rock Bottom Ch 6: Michael gets her ass]

_______________________________________

Corey: It's actually kind of homophobic that you aren't putting him in MY ass 

Me: Was it homophobic when I put his cock in your mouth?

Corey: Ok sorry. But I'm pretty sure he wants it so just try it and delete it if you don't like it 

_______________________________________

Corey, Michael, and me are at the diner and Joel Miller from The Last of Us walks up.  

Joel: So, I'm thinking. .

Me: Whoa, what are you doing here? This is a Blorbo-only zone 

*Corey looks at him smugly*

Joel: I have a hot fic idea 

Me: We're good, man 

Joel: Hear me out 

Corey (standing up): SHE SAID WE'RE GOOD

Me: *looks at Michael and nods toward Joel*

*Michael begins to escort Joel out*

Joel (yelling at an auctioneer pace on his way out): the apocalypse sluttifies everyone making them too horny to think so they're forced to get off and I'll wear that outfit you like and have a big girthy wrench 1.5K TOPS, I PROMISE 

Me: *sighs, open google docs* 

Corey: Shouldn't you post Rock Bottom Chapter 6 first? 

Me: I just posted a Michael story yesterday anyway. I'm trying not to flood the tags so much

Corey: *rolls eyes* You didn't even have to do that Michael thing.

Me:  it was a good request. you're just saying that because you weren't in it. 

Corey: ya think?

_______________________________________

#toxicanonymity writer's room #jake and amir AU #writing with adhd #writer's room #sluttified!corey cunningam #corey cunningham #corey cunningham x y/n #adhd #corey cunningham x michael myers #sluttified!corey cunningham #rock bottom fic #jake and amir #AU #toxicanonymity ☠️

[toxicanonymity]

masterlist

TAG: Toxicanonymity ☠️. She/her. FAQ

ASKS: I don't really do traditional requests these days because I'm busy with WIPs, but feel free to come in my ask box with thots, questions, etc.

WARNINGS: Everything is NSFW 18+ w/ F!Reader unless otherwise noted. May have violence, dubious consent (dubcon), non-consensual (noncon), unsafe sex, and more. See additional warnings in individual fics.

!! Some of the older Halloween HCs have broken links, and idk why. If it's bold, it means I checked and fixed it. I'll make my way through all of them eventually.

Pedro Pascal characters masterlist

Boyd Holbrook characters masterlist

Scream

Masked ghostface unless otherwise specified.

⭐ Every inch | Every inch 2 | Every inch 3

fight flight or fuck blurb

Rat in a cage oneshot drabble

⭐ Prescott House Bed & Breakfast (Billy Loomis)

Waking up cold blurb

✨Road house - scream AU (Dalton x reader)

Texas Chainsaw

⭐ The Spread (3.5k) Tommy Hewitt x reader. "Heavy" on size kink 🤭

Halloween

Corey Cunningham Stories (CC)

A lift and two screws (4.5k words) - 2️⃣ 🥩

Laid back (2.5k) -  👤 💐reach-around HJ.

Laid back: V-Day Vibes (3.2k) 👤💐 🥩 🧎‍♂️ toy

Corey from the yard (3.8k) - 2️⃣💐🥩

Corey from the Yard pt. 2 (5k) - 2️⃣ 🥩⚰️

It's Halloween (babysitting w/ CC) (3.5k) ⭐ 🎃

Yet another rattle - FFM (2.7k) - ft. Allyson

Corey C. from the call center (4.5k) - 💐

Dominating Corey in a declining mall (2.5k) - 🧎‍♂️

Tighty-whitey workout, interrupted (2k) 🥩

You wear MM's mask in bed (1.3k)

Giving head while CC streams (900)👤

⭐Good behavior (7.5k) work detail 4️⃣

⭐Birthday Wish (2k) dominant bf

⭐Give In (4.5k) 2️⃣

Hot Topic

Scrapyard (CNC) 500

Rock Bottom (22k) 🥩 ⚰️ . Corey, Michael, Y/N. (Other stories don't use Y/N).

Michael Myers Stories

Corey leaves you with Michael (300)

⭐Michael makes them watch (1.3k)

Michael in Ambrose (2k) non con

The summoning (1.2k) ⚰️

⭐Skin Alley (1.5k) MM POV

Michael's Castle (3k)2️⃣ vampire!michael

Gravel Lot (1.1k) - Anniversary 💐

Gas station (550)

Knows you're horny (650 cnc)

Breeder Michael blurb

Reader w/ oral fixation blurb

Bathroom (M!reader)

Michael makes Corey watch

Obsessive Reader GN

Halloween Headcanons

Free Use (1.2k) 👤 🧎‍♂️

The Shape's Collar (900) 👤

Coming💦 (1.1k) 👤 MM, CC

When you're a screamer (650) 👤 MM, CC

Why it's hot when Michael drives 👤

overstimulating a squirter MM, CC

more Corey squirting HCs

Corey coming in his pants

Corey porn habits

Corey catches your self-pleasure

Corey period oral

Halloween drabbles, blurbs, misc.

Who's that calling you under the dinner table (Misc) txts CC

Frisky at the movie theater w/ CC (300)

COREGASM (600?) 👤

CC sounding like Leon in DBD👤

Corey's newest ring

Corey x You x Michael

reader nipple piercings & 2 CC

Corey nipple piercings

Michael x Obsessive! Reader 👤

MM dream / CC 📞sex & CNC

✨Corey x you x Michael u walk in

✨Michael & thighs

✨Michael Makes Corey Watch

Halloween non-Smut

Michael & Corey MBTI types (non-explicit)

1st date, Corey wants to leave with you 💐

Amusement park date 💐

Corey's new ring (100 word drabble)

Corey teaches you to drive (300 words)

Michael/Corey poll results

_____________________

Other Fandoms

The ghost - Mike x reader x Carmy

The Bear

________________________

Triple Frontier

The Worst - Tom "Redfly" Davis x DARK!reader

Road House

Scream AU - Elwood Dalton x reader

New: ✨

Multiple smut scenes: 2️⃣,3️⃣ etc

Fluffy: 💐

Submissive: 🧎‍♂️

Gender Neutral or Male Reader: 👤

Gratuitous beef: 🥩

Kill(s): ⚰️

#masterlist #master list #corey cunningham x reader #michael myers x reader