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spookychick78 · 1 year

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OG Michael Myers One Shot

Okay so hear me out. Michael Myers X Vampire but make it sexy.

Warnings: SMUT 18+, knife play, blood play, choking, biting, rough sex etc.

Word Count: 3,536

Something seemed off in his home that night. He stood in the foyer, knife in hand as he listened. There was no audible sound to give away the other presence that had hidden itself there, no shaky breath, no heartbeat. Yet, in the silence he knew he wasn't alone. He could feel it. His eyes moved up the stairs as he tilted his head. Though their stealth thus far was impressive, whoever it was couldn't hide forever. This was his home and he knew it better than any trespasser could hope to. Nowhere they chose to hide would keep them safe for long if he decided to come looking, but Michael wasn't one to play games. Unless of course, they were his own. He made the rules, especially here. He would wait, he could be patient. They'd reveal themselves sooner or later be it out of desperation, false sense of security, or just plain boredom. He wouldn't give them a choice. He would make them come to him. Yeah, he would win this game. After all, he always did.

Just as a contented smirk started to pull at his hidden lips, movement came from the shadows beside him. He slowly turned his head to see a woman step out of the darkness. She had an arrogance about her he didn't quite understand. The knife in his hand nor the mask on his face did little to scare away the cocky smile that spread across her face as she studied him.

"Hello Michael," she said softly.

He narrowed his eyes at her under his mask. The air about her suggested she thought she had the upper hand. How silly. He lunged forward and his hand went for her throat, but she caught his fist in her palm before he even had the chance to unravel his fingers. He strained against her, waiting for her arm to break from the pressure he applied, but she stayed unmoving. His strength didn't seem to phase her, she was as still as ever.

"So eager to end our game already?" She asked calmly as her hand gripped tighter around his own, "I thought you liked to play."

He wouldn't give in. He gritted his teeth to hold back the pained groan that threatened to escape his lips, anymore pressure and he was sure she would break bones. Still, he held firm in his stance and pushed back against her. He wasn't unaware of the ice cold feel of her skin either, it left quite a sting. She let out a quiet laugh at his unmatched determination. She knew this would be fun.

"I've been watching you, Michael," she whispered as she craned her neck up to get a glimpse of his eyes through that pale mask, "for quite some time."

Her gaze was so fixed on his eyes it almost made him uncomfortable. No one had ever dared look as long as she was, that is if they ever got close enough. Her wanton curiosity both infuriated and intrigued him at the same time. What knowledge had she gained whilst watching him and more importantly, why had she been watching him? She could tell he was growing curious, which was exactly what she wanted. She let her grip loosen and he took his opportunity to force her across the room into the wall. She had decided to let him win a little, she knew him well enough to know it was something he needed to keep his interest. She felt the tip of his knife at her naval, almost begging to break skin, but he kept it from entering. His other hand gripped her throat dangerously tight, but it mattered not. He could squeeze harder if he wanted to, she had no use for breath.

"Don't be shy," she said as her hands rested over his tight grip on the knife's handle, "do it."

He felt her force the knife forward slowly. Her skin tore around it's sharp tip as she granted it entry. He didn't like that she had taken such control over the situation so he took it back and swiftly. He plunged his knife into her as deep as it could go and what should have been a cry of agony sounded like an expression of pleasure. He tilted his head as he watched her smile when he twisted the blade within her.

"We're not so different, you and I," she started calmly as though the knife in her had no effect, "death means nothing to us and yet, it is the very nature of our existence."

He was growing incredibly frustrated at her elaborate way of aligning herself with him. He pulled his knife out only to plunge it back in again, harder this time. That only seemed to make her laugh.

"You don't seem to understand," she said before she quickly ripped the knife from his hand, "we are not meant to die."

His hand around her throat tightened enough to break bones, but not hers. She grabbed his wrist and without words, requested he release his grip. Naturally, he denied her so she resorted to force. He couldn't fathom that she had the strength to, but she was able to pry his hand from her neck and easily.

"You like death, Michael?" She asked as she brought the blade to her throat, "Then let me introduce her to you."

She dragged the knife sideways slowly along her skin and her blood turned the parts of her visible to him red. For the first time in his life, Michael watched in disbelief. Her throat was open before him and yet she was somehow still alive, looking back at him with a smile. What blew his mind further was that he could tell it wasn't that it didn't hurt her, it did and she liked it. She returned the knife that was now coated in her blood to him.

"You see, we are the same. Only your heart still beats, whereas mine," she said as she took his hand and placed it over her heart.

There was nothing. No unsteady beat to relish in, no quickened breath, just cold skin underneath his palm.

"You defy death in a different way, but we are both death's deliverers," she said as she brought his hand up to her open mouth.

Michael watched with unbridled curiosity as her gums retracted and her incisors grew exponentially. She kept her mouth agape and invited him to explore, just as he had hoped she would. He let his fingers brush over each of them, admiring just how sharp they really were. Just before he pulled away, he cut himself on one. She hummed with pleasure as she tasted his blood on her tongue. He noticed her eyes had changed, they now had an eerie orange glow. His favorite color. She was somehow paler than before, almost ghostly. He could really admire those fangs now that she was smiling again at his taste. She made quite a pretty picture with all that blood still dripping down her. The embodiment of death. Michael didn't realize he was capable of feeling desire, but something about that animalistic hunger in her eyes that his own blood had awakened made him want to explore her further, test her limits. She had no need for a weapon, her own body was that in of itself. He was beyond fascinated, which pleased her. She had him right where she wanted him.

"I've watched you kill and be killed. I've watched you die over and over and yet, your heart keeps beating, your blood keeps pumping. You hunger as I do. I kill to survive, but you," she flashed that eerie smile again as she let out a low laugh, "you don't need blood to live, you simply want it. Well, I want to understand you, Michael, but more than anything, I want to taste an immortal. I want to taste you."

She still held his hand in hers and he could tell the blood that steadily dripped from his finger was driving her to madness. He saw control within his grasp again and he wasn't going to let it go. He pulled his hand away from her and dismay began to spread over her face until he brought it back to her mouth. He ran his finger over her lips, coating them in his blood. She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth with her teeth and her eyes rolled back as she tasted him again. Her hands went up to hold his once more and he allowed her to.

"May I?" She asked softly.

He gave her nothing, but his silence was her green light. She dragged her tongue from his palm to the tip of his index finger, leaving no trace of blood behind. She then took it in her mouth. He felt her open the wound further with one of her teeth before she began to drink. He watched her body relax entirely once she tasted him again, more than before. He tasted different, just as she had expected, sweeter. The small amount he had allotted her satisfied her more than any other she had tasted before. Each drop was bliss and he could see it all over her. That pull he felt was strange, but euphoric all at once. It made him feel light, almost weightless. It gave him a rush unlike any other he had felt before and he let his head fall back as the feeling washed over him. Her eyes flickered open to see his neck was exposed to her. It was becoming incredibly difficult to control her hunger, he simply tasted too good. Then again, she wasn't sure she had to control herself. After all, that was why she sought him out. There was no risk of him dying. He was an endless supply of bliss for her, she just needed him to want her as much as she wanted him.

He could feel her growing needier as she sucked harder than before. He looked back down at her and saw she was watching him. Those orange eyes were filled with lust as they stayed glued to his neck. He smirked behind his mask before he pulled his finger away from her. She hissed at the sudden emptiness he left behind and her brow furrowed. He quickly grabbed her by the throat and pushed her back against the wall. It was his turn to explore her.

She laughed again, "You can't break me, Michael."

He pressed his body against hers with enough force to probably crush any normal being. She was so cold, he could feel her icy skin through his boiler suit, but it brought relief to his increasingly raised body heat. She was bringing sensations to the surface he had never felt before and he knew she was more than aware. She could feel it.

"Is that what you want?" She whispered up at him, "would you like to break me, Michael?"

He responded by squeezing her throat as tight as he could. He wanted to more than she knew and he could tell he wasn't alone in his desire. It felt fitting that he would give himself to death, or perhaps it was death who would give herself to him. The thought was enough to make his breath falter. He wanted those teeth in him again and he wanted her against the wall where she belonged with her cold legs wrapped around him.

"Then break me," she said in an almost hypnotizing tone.

With his other hand he ripped his mask off so he could press his lips to hers. It was almost like kissing stone. She was so cold and firm. Unbreakable. If he was going to have a lover, she would have to be, because Michael knew nothing of self control. At least not when it came to killing, he could only imagine sex would be no different. She didn't ask for his self control, she didn't need it. She was perfectly matched to him, made for him. He wasn't quite sure how such a thing had landed in his grasp, but he wasn't about to let it slip. She was his now, whether she had asked to be or not. She was his to do with just as he pleased. She may have been physically unbreakable, but Michael would find other ways to break her, it was what he was good at and she would love every second of it. One thing was already very much in his control. She had given him that leash to hold without even realizing it.

He felt her clamoring to pull his boiler suit back as her lips wandered from his own and down to his neck. He knew what she was doing, he could feel those sharp teeth grazing his exposed skin and he allowed her to continue until he felt her self control slip. Just before she could sink into him he shoved her back against the wall to remind her that his blood was his to give when, and only when, he chose to. He was in control and he had every intention to make her beg. That was her leash and he held that power in his hands as he always did. She lunged forward again and he only pushed her back harder, so hard the wooden walls of the Myers' house behind her broke. She didn't even flinch, instead she smiled in amusement. It only added to his enthusiasm about the situation. He freed his arms from his boiler suit and promptly tore her blood soaked dress from her body. He watched, amused as she took care of the rest of her clothing. Her body was unlike any other he had seen. Flawless, in his eyes and probably anyone else's if they saw. Though, other eyes were no longer a concern, he would be her only admirer. He noticed the stab wound he had dealt her was missing as if it had never happened. She really would be his plaything.

Once she had discarded the last of the cloth covering her, she was on him again. Her lips met his with more force than before. She was intent on showing him just how strong she really was and he was intent on finding out. He felt her nip at his bottom lip as she kissed him and heard her moan when the smallest bit of blood met her tongue. He lifted her up so she could wrap her now bare legs around him and once he was sure she wouldn't fall, he tangled his fingers in her hair. He yanked her head back so her neck was exposed to him this time. He let his lips brush over her icy skin, then his teeth. He was gentle at first as he peppered kisses along her jugular, then he began to experiment. He nipped at her and relished in those pained hisses she let out, though he knew she liked it. If she liked his blade cutting her skin, surely she would enjoy his teeth just the same and he wanted to taste her just as she had him. He bit down and her blood quickly spilled for him. Once he'd had a taste, he pulled back so he could admire the way it poured over her pale skin and the way his bite mark disappeared just so he could leave another in it's place. Despite his tight grip on her hair, she forced her head back down so she could look at him once more. Though it was dark she could make out some of his features. He had dark, curly brown hair, a strong jaw and very serious brows atop dark eyes, but despite his intensity, he had an almost angelic appearance in the shadows. Though, she knew he was no angel. She saw that well enough in his eyes. She saw what he wanted to do to her and it made her body tremble with anticipation. She felt his hands gripping her bare waist so tightly it would have torn mortal flesh. He didn't want to wait any longer, he wanted to claim her as his own, body and, if she had one, soul. She slid her legs down and once her feet found the floor below her, she pushed him to the ground. The floorboards bent around him from the force and he went to push himself up, but before he could she was on top of him. He knew that smirk on her face was because she knew this wasn't how things were going to go, at least not for long. He grabbed hold of her thighs and stopped her from taking him. She could do as she pleased other than that. That was something he would give to her when he felt she deserved it. She met his lips again, sloppily this time as she kissed down his body and let her nails drag on his skin above her head as she got lower and lower. He stifled the groans that we're building within him as he felt her cold lips press against the lowest possible part of his naval. She was careful not to give him what he wanted, that was her leash to hold, at least that's what she thought. As if he'd read her mind, he put a stop to that right away. He wasn't one to be teased. He sat up and grabbed her by her throat to put her on the ground. He not only loved that he could hear the sound of the house being utterly destroyed each time he threw her, but that she could take it. He pinned her underneath him where she belonged and threw her legs around his waist so he could align himself with her. He didn't waste another second to drive himself into her. He felt her nails dig into his back as he took what he wanted. He was surprised to find it came naturally to him, he knew exactly what he wanted to do and how he was going to do it. His hand returned to her throat to bring her up to him so she could take what she wanted. He needed her to now, he wanted that rush from before combined with the feeling of how tight she was around him. He wanted her to drink from him and as much as she wanted. He knew she understood, he watched her tongue glide over her sharp fangs before she latched onto his neck. That rush washed over him instantly and he picked up his pace while he held her head in place. He was unable to control the moans that fell from his lips as she drank from him and deeply. She was glad he held her in place because she could barely hold herself up. Each time he pushed into her he hit a spot that made her head spin. He may have been inexperienced, but he was bringing her closer and closer to her climax with every move he made. Her fingers reached down in desperation, she was almost there, she just needed friction on that other sweet spot he had yet to discover. He caught her hand and quickly replaced it with his own, but allowed her to show him what she wanted. He caught on fast and soon enough she could barely focus on drinking him anymore. Though he tasted so good, what he was doing to her was somehow even better. She unlatched her teeth from him and her head fell back as her orgasm washed over her. He watched her face contort in an almost pained expression as her body grew tighter around him. Though he wanted her to continue feeding off of him, watching her face was equally as intoxicating. Watching what he was doing to her, what he was making her feel, it was enough to send him spiraling. Pleasure more intense than any he had ever felt took over, but he didn't stop. She held onto him tight enough to draw blood with her finger nails as he spilled into her. He buried his face in her neck as he rode out his orgasm, letting himself be more vocal than he ever had been in all his life. The sound of him falling apart brought her to the edge once again, which only made him continue. He felt her go limp in his arms as her body reveled in the pleasure he had brought her once again. He removed his face from her neck to look at her. She had her eyes closed and her neck was still craned back as she whispered his name to herself. He wondered if maybe that was all she could take, if maybe he had found her breaking point after all. He started to slow his pace, which only made a smile spread across her face again.

"Did you think we were finished?" She asked cockily.

When she lifted her head to meet his gaze, he smirked. He hadn't broken her yet, so he'd just have to keep trying.

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spookychick78 · 10 months

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Final Girl

Maybe I’m Amazed

Michael Myers X AFAB!Reader

Warnings: Slight NSFW

Word Count: 1,998

She couldn't tear her eyes away from the bright red trail of blood that led towards the door. She wasn't sure how long Michael had been gone, but she was glad he was for the time being. She needed to process what she was feeling. It wasn't fear, she knew that, but this time felt different. She had seen him injured before, she remembered that, but this time he died. She was sure of it. When he had been stabbed perhaps she should have questioned it then, but now? There was no possible outcome where he should have survived. But he did. What was he?

And why her? She began to think of all the things Loomis had said to her and it made her wonder. Why was she still alive, why did he keep preventing her death and why did he keep saving her from her own deadly desires? Was Loomis right? Was he playing a game in which she ultimately would lose her life? She became angry with herself as her thoughts tormented her. She had once again allowed herself to grow attached to a monster. Only this time, she wasn't even sure he was human. She found herself in the same position she had fled, she couldn't will herself to leave. She knew maybe she should, but the thought of never seeing him again and so many questions going unanswered chained her where she was.

The sound of his boots on the wooden porch signaled his return home. She waited there for him, eyes straight ahead. He walked towards her and stopped just a few feet away. Her head slowly turned in his direction. Usually she was accustomed to the way he looked with just the moonlight illuminating him, but tonight the holes of the mask looked pitch black. Nothing inside them.

"What are you?" She asked softly.

He tilted his head and patiently waited for her to elaborate.

"What are you?" She repeated through gritted teeth.

Perhaps Loomis had made her see him differently or maybe she was just fed up with the silence. He straightened his head and stood deathly still. He had never seen her look at him with anger and she had never questioned him in such a way. She grew more frustrated as he stared back at her.

"Dammit Michael," she said as she pushed herself off the wall to stand in front of him.

She didn't want to resort to yes or no questions, but he wouldn't budge. She knew he wouldn't speak.

"You died," she stated plainly.

He shook his head.

"No, you did I know you did, you weren't breathing," she said, almost demandingly.

He only shook his head again.

She paused for a few moments. Those black holes were making her question her own sanity, why she wasn't afraid.

"Are you human?"

He nodded.

"You can't be," she whispered, mostly to herself.

Nothing made sense. She felt tears building in her eyes and she had to look away from him.

"Why me?" She said, her voice cracked and gave her tears away.

He felt the desperation to make her understand building within him. He had so many answers to give her, but no words. His fists clenched tightly at his sides.

"Why me, Michael?" She was beginning to raise her voice, "Why didn't you kill me, why won't you kill me, why am I here, why me?"

Clenching his fists was no longer any help. He was losing his self control, he could feel it. She looked back up at him expectantly. She had no idea what she was doing to him. She didn't understand.

"What's wrong with me?" She screamed.

Within two strides, his hand was around her throat. He pushed her all the way to the end of the hallway and with a thud, she was up against the wall. The window above them cast an eerie blue light on her face and he finally saw the fear she should have had of him long ago all over her face, but he didn't want that. He had no other way to make her understand and he couldn't fight himself any longer. Without allowing another thought to cloud his mind he reached behind him and pulled the mask off.

Any fears she had faded away. She saw him clearly and in his brown eyes that were no longer shielded by darkness, she found all the answers she needed. She finally understood.

She reached a hand up to his face and let her fingers glide over his warm skin. Touching someone had never felt so thrilling. She made sure to study all of his features individually as if it was the last time she would see them. He was just as human as she was. He was beautiful. She let her hands fall to his arms, but never took her eyes off of his. His breath fell on her skin and she could feel his silent need within the unevenness of it. He was the one asking for permission now. She let her gaze wander to his lips. That subtle glance was all the confirmation he needed.

The mask fell to the ground with a thud as he brought both of his hands to her face. His lips met hers with such force had she not been against the wall, she would have lost her balance. She had never in her life been kissed so passionately before. He was erasing any memories of what she thought had been love before him with each press of his lips. All she wanted was him, all she had ever wanted was him and she knew all he wanted was her. Her body melted as he picked her up off the ground. She let her legs wrap around his waist and her hands hold his face as she kissed him more feverishly than before. He never took his lips off of her's as he carried her into the bedroom. He relished the feeling of her fingers tangling in his hair as he soaked in every detail of the way her skin felt on his. He couldn't get enough. He wanted, no he needed to know what every part of her felt like and he didn't want anything getting in the way. He dropped her on the mattress, she wasted no time before she reached up for the neck of his coveralls and pulled him on top of her. He smiled against her lips, the thought that she too had been desperate to touch him was intoxicating. She was intoxicating.

He was finally getting the peace he so needed within. For the first time his thoughts didn't torment him. He only thought of her. Those thoughts seemed to guide his body and though he had had no experience with any woman before her, it was like he knew what he was doing. It had always only been her and it always would be her. She was the only one he trusted with all of him. He let his hands explore her clothed body, each curve earning more curiosity from him. He wanted to uncover each mystery she had to offer him.

She broke the kiss and looked in his eyes, already breathless. Her fingers were still tangled in his hair. He was confused as to why she had stopped him, but he patiently waited for her to speak.

"What do you want, Michael?"

For the first time in his life he knew exactly what he wanted. He leaned his forehead against hers as his response. She smiled. When he lifted his head he locked back into her gaze. She sat up and began to uncover herself before him. He watched each movement with such intensity it made her blush. He studied her like a work of art in front of him, appreciating every single inch of her body she showed him. She could tell he had never done this before. His innocence made her heart swell, she wished she could offer him the same in return. She wished he would have been her first.

She turned her face away from him to hide her shame. He sensed her sadness and reached his hand out to cup her cheek and turn her back to him. He wanted her to look at him and know he didn't care about her past. It didn't change the way he felt about her, it never had. She let a smile pull at her lips as his brown eyes conveyed his meaning to her. He brought his lips back to hers, gentler this time. He wanted to show her that to him, she was innocent and deserved to be treated as such. He gently laid her back on the bed and let his lips caress not just her lips, but her cheek, her neck, down her chest. He left no part of her untouched or unappreciated. As he made his way back to her lips, he could feel her trying to figure out how to remove his coveralls. He wasted no time in assisting her. He didn't want anything in between them any longer. She pushed the clothing off his shoulders and let her fingers trace his defined chest and abdomen.

He couldn't deny himself another moment without feeling her lips against his. His body hovered over hers, the feeling of her bare skin on his was electrifying, unlike anything he had ever experienced before. Each move made was a new discovery for the two. He felt her hand gently guiding him into her. For a brief moment he felt those same fears trying to claw their way to the surface, trying to convince him he wasn't capable of loving her completely. He lifted his lips off of hers to meet her gaze. He saw himself in her eyes, unmasked, free. There was nothing that was going to keep him from her. Not even himself.

Their bodies joined as one. He had never felt more alive in his life. His love for carnage was nothing compared to the feeling that engulfed him with every move that was made. The sound of her soft moans underneath him made him feel like he was melting into her. All of him was her’s, every inch of his body every piece of the soul he didn't think he had was given to her. She in turn, finally felt she had found someone who was truly deserving of all of her. She gave herself freely and knew not one part of her was being taken for granted. He truly loved her, it was evident in each gentle touch and gentle wasn't something she had expected of him. To be the only one he had ever held so delicately was truly euphoric knowledge.

She clung to him and pulled herself up towards his ear, peppering kisses along his bare skin, "I love you, Michael," she breathed against him.

Her words washed over him. He had never heard those words and believed them, but he knew they were genuine. There was proof in the way her body melded with his. No part of this act he had previously had so much disdain for was lustful. It was so much purer than he ever imagined it could be. Her need for him wasn't carnal, nor was his for her. He was connected with her not just physically, but spiritually. She was his and he was hers.

She could feel his need building and she smiled. She adored his gentleness, but she knew he was restraining himself for her sake. She put her hand against his chest, his heart raced inside him.

"Michael," she said softly.

He ceased his movements, afraid he had done something wrong, but she was smiling.

"Don't hold back."

His eyes widened just the slightest and she let out a giggle. He lifted her up and her legs fell into place around him. The night had only just begun.

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