#Michael my beloved

[1-800-cr33py]

I know it didn’t win the poll but I humbly ask you to write that RZ! Micheal Myers size kink fanfiction whenever you have the time and if you are feeling up to it🙏

{this is so late and I sincerely apologize TvT}

Sedatives

Tags: Dub-Con, Size Kink, Rough Sex, Choking, Manhandling, Reader is mentions to be a nurse some time ago, blood, knives, overstimulation, Michael is a warning himself. a/: this will most likely be one out of 2 parts anon im so sorry TvT

Sweet thing you were, you’d give the shirt off your own back if someone in need called for it, so giving and so trusting to even the most hardened criminals. It was a wonder how someone like you graced the halls of Smith’s Grove Sanitarium. You, a star-eyed nurse fresh from medical school. The scum and slime that riddled the halls of the hellish “sanctuary” you’d been accepted into. You skip down the halls with your checklist and medicine cart in tow. You were kind. You were happy. You’d given patients who’d hadn’t seen the sun in years the same kindness as one would give to an old friend. But you favored one more than the others.

Michael fucking Myers.

Silent halls.

Odd shadows.

Creaking wheels.

The usual ambiance of Smith’s Grove had finally settled within your nerves after a long long few months. You, with your now worn in uniform, counted the rooms with an intent gaze. On the left, even numbers, and parallel to them were odds. Though it was a weird concept, there was a reason. Those on the left, the doctors deemed ‘safe’ and had the possibility of rehabilitation.

Inmates that resided on the right wing however, well you didn’t quite know if you’re being honest, you weren’t allowed to even breath the wing’s direction yet. But one digresses. Your low heels made a blunt click click click upon the cold floors as you neared your station, medicine cart in tow. Your manicured hand reached for your ID, ringing yourself in as the loud pang alerted you of the unlocked status of the door, which was shoved open by your hip as you passed a polite nod to security. Your trek was cut short however, your overseer tugging you aside with a rather harsh hand.

“ You’re the medicine girl right?”

medicine girl…right. Giving a curt nod he sighed, his breath reeking of cheap coffee and some kind of alcohol. His orders were short, clipped and rather rude. Though the next words he uttered left your mouth gaping like a fish out of water.

“ You’re doing both wards. Kirsten…had an incident. “

Fucking hell.

So now, here you were, approaching your last patient for the night. With security stalking behind you with scowls as they glared at patients through the tiny windows. You gulps, it was never patients that scared you, no. It was the sleazes that worked outside the cells. Their wolffish stares and ugly grins. You shook your head, you were approaching Michael’s cell.

You didn’t know much about him, only whispers of the monster, the brute that killed most of his family. A grade A killer, someone that should be locked away from society if not for Mr. Loomis’s need to study him like some kind of bug. But, you being you, wouldn’t let that stop you from being kind. That’s what irked you most about people here, these patients were still human at the end of the day. They still bled, they still died, they had interests and dislikes and personalities. You sighed, eying the dainty wrist watch. ‘ Just an hour and a half..’ you thought as some scum of a man unlocked the heavy metal door. Eying you as you motioned him to move aside.

“ Careful, he hasn’t seen such a young thing like you in a while…might finally remember he’s got a cock. “ the guard, who’s tag read Pierson, chuckled, elbowing his colleague. You could feel their gaze raking across your body, internally you gagged. Lurching forward was a far easier than you wanted to admit, medicines and needles clattering at the motion as the door slammed behind you, leaving you to jump.

Michael’s room was…interesting looking at it.

Buzzing overhead lights gave some relief as you tended to your cart, organizing the arrangement of pills and sedatives in their respective cup to serve to the inmate, who’s back was turned to you, fiddling with another mask that would surely find its way with the rest that perched upon the greening walls. Finally, you found the correct assortment. Smiling to yourself, you turned to face the mountain of a man.

“ Alright Mr.Myers, here’s your dailies! Dr. Loomis upped your sedatives so if you feel a bit off thats the cause! “ you chirped, leaving the cup a bit of a distance. Like you’d heard from the other nurses, Michael gave no indication of acknowledgment, hands stained with the glue-water mixture. The masks on the wall drew your attention, though you didn’t dare raise a hand to touch the precious things, knowing how it felt to have your art defiled by ignorant hands. “ You have a lovely night Mr. Myers! The mask are gorgeous as well! Truly a work of art. “ you smiled, warmth radiating from your aura.

Oh sweet thing. What have you done?

[per-civall]

[luciferhollow]

Hew-wo.....he's a little shy

[accountformytechnobladeart]

I don't know if this counts as a request but I always get so happy when I see your art of Techno and Michael together. So maybe something with those two? Hope you have a nice day :D

this one is inspired by my most recent interaction with a toddler

[spookychick78]

Wanna Be Yours

Peepaw Myers X GN!Reader

Word Count: 6,558

⚠️Warnings: NSFW (18+, MDNI), choking, dubious consent, rough sex Michael himself is a warning, proofread but I'm human⚠️

Figured it was time I take on the old man. There's not nearly enough fanfiction out there for Peepaw. Is it over 6k? Yes. Is it self indulgent? Probably. Is it smut? Eventually.(there's some serious plot leading up) Needlessly romantic? Absolutely.

You stretched your arms out while simultaneously releasing yet another yawn. This was night two of staying up far later than planned, but insomnia had an unrelenting hold on you. Finally, it seemed it was losing its battle. Your eyes were heavy, your body the same as your yawns followed one after the other. A glass of water was all you needed, then you'd call it a night. You enjoyed the soft thud your feet made on the wooden floors, the usual pitter pattering muffled by a pair of fluffy socks you'd dawned. However, you were regretting your decision in not throwing on that pair of sweatpants before you came downstairs, it was rigidly cold, even indoors that night. Your oversized hoodie did little to protect you from the chill in the air.

You opened a cabinet, grabbed the first cup your hand landed on and brought it over to the filter in the sink. A sigh escaped you as you watched the little stream take it's sweet time filling it. Your foot had just begun to tap impatiently, it was so close to being filled, when a loud thump on the side door startled you. You dropped the cup, thankful that it landed in the sink, saving you from any mess. From where you stood, you couldn't see any movement out the little window on the door. You briefly regretted your decision not to turn on any lights as you stared, frozen in place waiting for any indication that someone was there. After a few moment's silence, the tightness in your chest dissipated and you let out the breath you'd been holding. Probably just a cat, you thought to yourself before you turned, foregoing your drink to retreat to the comfort of your room sooner rather than later. You hadn't even made it halfway up the stairs when yet another thud stopped you, followed by the sound of glass shattering. Your breath hitched and without thinking, you turned to scurry back downstairs, completely defenseless. In the shadows, you could just barely make out a figure. The only thing that was clearly visible, due to the faint gleam of moonlight, was his masked face. It was white, or it had been at some point and the eyes were two pitch black voids that seemed to be focused on the floor underneath his boots. As your eyes adjusted, you could make out a few more details, some that explained why he simply just stood there; he was injured. His hand, which was missing a couple of fingers and poorly bandaged, rested on his abdomen, clutching a wound that was still bleeding. His other hand seemed to be in just as bad a state, he'd broke the glass window with it to open the door from inside, rendering it bloodied as well. As he shakily lifted his head, those dark voids refocused their attention on you. You drew an uneasy breath, fearful of what he might do now that he'd discovered your presence. It felt like an eternity under his black gaze with only the sound of his uneven and ragged breath to break the dense silence that had settled in your kitchen, but finally something gave. He collapsed, you however stayed put for a moment more, unsure of what exactly you should do. The fact that he had a mask on wasn't entirely strange, it was Halloween after all, but he did break into your house. Perhaps he needed help? You could only hope that was his intention and he hadn't moved a muscle since he'd fallen, so with immense hesitation, you approached him. 'Intimidating' described him perfectly, even as he lay unconscious and face first on the ground. He wasn't a small man, not in the slightest. He must have been well over six feet tall from what you surmised, which meant he wouldn't be easy to move, but if you wanted to inspect his wounds you'd have to find a way. You tentatively placed a hand on his back, because if you were being honest, you weren't quite sure if he was even alive. He was, the soft whistle of breath through that mask of his and the subtle way his back rose and fell which each weak one he took confirmed that much.

"Fuck," you whispered as you contemplated how exactly you were going to turn him over, "you're not gonna make this easy on me, are you?"

You put all your strength into it and, after dropping him a few times, you managed to flip him over, "Sorry," you muttered after he'd landed on his back harder than expected.

You resisted the urge to study the face hidden behind the mask and focused your attention on his injuries, which were worse than you'd previously thought. Blood had turned the blue cloth he wore blacker than the eyes of his mask. You carefully pulled some of the fabric back to discover it was bullets than had torn through him. You winced at the sight, it wasn't something you'd be able to help much with, but you intended to do your best after at least calling for an ambulance. With that thought in mind, you stood to retrieve the first aid kit you never thought you'd have a use for and your cellphone. You wondered if he'd disappear while you had your back turned, half hoping he was simply a figment of your tired imagination, but when you returned he was still there and real as ever. You quickly dialed the emergency line, deciding to leave out the part that painted him as an intruder. You were still intent on not assuming the worst and he needed help, or so you thought. Once you hung up, you knelt down beside him again and carefully unzipped the coveralls he wore. You cursed yourself for blushing at the sight of his bare chest. He was older, the small patch of gray hair made that clear, but he didn't lack for definition despite his age. He was unreasonably built, something you fought to ignore but ultimately failed, hence the heat that had risen to your face. You gently pressed the rag to his wound and heard his breath falter at the sudden pressure, but he remained still as you cleaned him. You couldn't quite tell if he was awake, it didn't seem to matter how intently you studied those black holes, you couldn't see anything behind them to determine consciousness. But he was conscious and beyond disturbed at the predicament he found himself in, so much so that he hadn't a clue of what to do other than observe.

After you set the rag down, that mask had your full attention. The more you studied it, the more intrigued you became. It looked familiar, but you couldn't quite figure out why. You searched silently for a reason to justify what you were about to do as your hand moved closer to its edge. It would be easier for him to breathe without it on, you thought to yourself as your fingers grazed the rubber, but the moment you started to pull on it,  his hand flew up to grab yours. He sat up, but doubled over as soon as he did and his grip on your wrist tightened.

"No- I'm sorry. Don't move, okay? You're hurt," you said, stumbling over your words as he flinched away from your other hand that went to his shoulder to steady him, "I just thought it'd be easier to breathe without it."

Michael's consciousness was an effort to keep, but he was aware enough to have heard what you said and it left him more than confused. The house had been so dark, he assumed it was empty, a safe place for him to rest while he waited for his strength to return. He didn't expect to find you standing there and when he did he had every intention to slaughter you, but the bullets Laurie had put in him had stripped him of that opportunity. His head whipped around for his knife while you watched, assuming he was just confused and unaware of where exactly he'd passed out.

"An ambulance should be here soon. I got you cleaned up, but you're gonna need more help than I can offer," you said, forcing his attention back to you, "you should rest though, until they get here."

Without hesitation, he shot up, entirely ignoring your suggestion and the throbbing pain in his abdomen, "Whoa, hey, what are you doing?"

Your words had little effect on him, which you soon learned as you watched him stride towards the door he'd entered from. You quickly followed behind, baffling him further. Usually, it was him who did the chasing.

"You can wait here, you don't have to-"

Naive, he thought to himself. Naive and completely out of your depth is what he made of you, but perhaps that kindness you'd shown a monster like himself was exactly what had saved your life, for now at least. He had no choice but to leave you, he'd had more than enough run ins with the authorities for one Halloween night and he knew they'd arrive any minute. He found his knife by the door and bent down to retrieve it, which was what stopped any further words from leaving your mouth. Your abrupt silence gave him pause and he turned his head slightly to find the horror of realization painted on your face. Your eyes were focused on the blade in his hand that had been decorated in red. The moonlight allowed its gleam to inform you that it was no prop, it was as real as your own blood that had run cold in your veins. It was your breath that was shaky now.

"Who are you?" You whispered.

He left you without an answer and that was weeks ago. Wondering was exactly what Michael wanted you to do and unbeknownst to you, you played along so nicely. He hadn't gone far, in fact he'd returned several times to catch you immersing yourself in his story. The night he met you, you never slept. You sat in bed with a blanked wrapped tightly around you as you listened to the details of what the man who'd broken into your home had done, of what he was. The answers you received from headlines only raised more confusion within yourself, because your name wasn't on his long list of victims. He spared you and that fact had you torn. Part of you wanted to let it go, be grateful that the shadow of death had so kindly passed over you, but there was another part that desperately wanted to know why. That part of you brought on more questions, but ones about yourself, more specifically, your own self preservation, because you wanted him to return. Sure, maybe it was simply time that was to blame, you'd called the authorities and he was a killer. He had to flee to avoid capture, but they still hadn't gotten him, he was still loose and he hadn't come back to finish you off. From what you'd learned, no one crossed Michael Myers' path and lived to tell the tale, you were alone in that. You were the first he'd left completely unscathed and unattended to, or so you thought. But Michael hadn't left you alone, not at all. He kept quite a close eye on you and with questions of his own, because in leaving you alive to wonder, he'd confused himself. The more he studied you, the worse it got. At first, it was a game, the same one he always played. The kill was always more satisfying when he had a bit of history on the subject at hand, but learning about you had become problematic. He never waited this long to strike, but you had made him hesitate. Somehow, you'd gotten to him and he couldn't seem to rid himself of the memory of you touching him. Perhaps it was because no one had before, not so gently. They'd certainly never apologized for hurting him as you had when you tended to his wounds. You cared about his well-being, it mattered to you that night. Enough so that you went out of your way to save him. He would have survived without your assistance, but it was the thought that counted, you thought about him in a way that no one ever had before. Now, you searched for him, unabashedly. He knew you weren't just gazing out of your window for the sake of it, you wanted to find him. He wondered if you a had a sixth sense, because he was always there, hidden in the shadows your eyes wandered to after the street lights turned on. You'd even begun to leave it open once you'd gone to bed, something that really piqued his curiosity. What would you do if he found his way in, what would you do if he gave you what you wanted and showed himself? Would you run or would he find himself in a situation in which he was the one who was out of his depth? Michael had gone his entire adult life without worrying about such things and he hated that finally, he'd been caught in such a trap. He wanted to hate you for it, but when you appeared in your window again and locked eyes with him in the darkness without even knowing it, he couldn't. He wanted to find one, just one single flaw that he could latch onto, but he couldn't and it ate at him. You were perfect, infuriatingly so. The way you moved haunted him in the most unexpected of ways and you were so young, so full of life that he should have wanted to drain, but death was so far removed from what he wanted to give you. His brow furrowed underneath his tattered mask as he contemplated it, because in truth, he hadn't a clue what exactly it was he wanted from you, he just knew it was you that he wanted and it was driving him to madness, to discomfort he'd never felt in all his life.

You disappeared from his view, retreating into shadows yourself once you decided he wasn't there. That was when he began to move unconsciously towards the door he'd entered through before. His heart pounded within his chest as he drew closer, unsure of what he would do once he was face to face with you again, but he needed to be, there was no question about that any longer. More than that, he needed to know what you would do, if you were different from the rest and if you could give him rest from the turmoil you'd caused within his mind, body and if he had one, soul. The house was dark, just as it had been the first time he arrived, only now, the door was unlocked. An invitation, he thought to himself with further intrigue. You did want him there, you must have, because who in their right mind left their house open for entry with a killer on the loose? He ought to teach you a lesson, but then again, no one was more of a threat than he was and he didn't intend to leave you unattended. If you wanted to leave your doors unlocked, so be it, but he would be your only visitor if he got his way and really, didn't he always?

His hand glided along the kitchen counter as he steadily made his way to the stairs, pausing at the bottom to study the stream of light that bathed the blackened hallway above in an eerie orange glow. His head tilted when it went out, leaving you entrapped in darkness. The sixth sense he suspected you had only became more prominent, he breathed easier without light to touch him and you had turned it off. Further invitation, of course, so he took the first step, then another. The faint creak of the wooden boards didn't seem to alert you to his presence, the light stayed absent and he appeared in your doorway to find you settled in bed. Sleep hadn't found you yet, but he had and you stirred when you felt the unease brought about by an unknown gaze lingering on your body. At first, the shadows all but consumed him, then his figure became clearly visible. Just an outline, tall and broad, but you recognized him.

Slowly, you propped yourself up with eyes that were wide open. You wanted this, but now he was here and you hadn't a clue of what to do, or what he would do. Words escaped you, but you didn't fear his silence this time nor the deafening hum that sat heavily between the two of you. It was energy, an unspoken desire to be near to each other was what it was, you knew that now without a doubt in your mind. He'd come back, just as you hoped he would, but for what purpose and why was it you had wanted him to?

Your legs slid off the side of the bed until your bare toes met the cold wooden floor below. He'd yet to move, so you tested the limits of what he would allow. His eyes, unseen, studied those carefully made movements closely. There was no distance to dull your actions anymore and he soaked each one in as he watched you stand, fascinated. He didn't have to hear it to know your heart was racing within your much smaller frame, you were prey approaching a predator, but it wasn't fear he found in your curious eyes, it was awe. As if he was just as unreal to you as you were him. His head lowered with his gaze, because now you truly were face to face. Your neck in turn craned up as you listened to that familiar whistle of breath through his mask.

"Michael," you whispered up at him.

He rushed forward so abruptly you didn't even have time to scream. He backed you against the wall, but didn't touch you, not right away. He simply stood there, shoulders heaving, head down in front of you. His breath was uneven and his fists were clenched tightly at his sides as if it was an arduous struggle to withhold himself.

But from what? You thought as you stood there silently searching for the answer you'd clearly die to retrieve. He didn't have his knife, at least not within his grasp or reach. His hands were his only weapons and he hadn't even used those on you, not in the way you had expected. Your hands remained at your side, unmoving and his gaze dipped to one. His breath evened as he studied it contemplatively, his shoulders stilled and he seemed puzzled, or so you assumed. Hesitantly, he reached for one. His fingers grazed your skin, slowly grappling for more purchase. Finally, he hooked one of them with yours and brought it to the other. He brought it up and you watched, confused as he traced the lines on your palm that were visible to him in the moonlight. The cool glow even allowed you to catch a glimpse of those eyes you'd searched for the last time he was in your home. One was an eerie, milky white, left without sight from one of the many wounds he'd gathered throughout the years. The other was the lightest of blue, icy in color, but there was warmth hidden somewhere inside that fought through as he allowed himself to fall prey to your touch once more. It was his choice this time, he was very aware as he pressed his palm to yours. Delicate and dangerous were the only two words that came to Michael's mind, because though you couldn't overpower him physically, he felt weakened in ways more damning than bodily wounds.

"Why are you here?"

Your whispered words did little to distract him from the dilemma he held in his hands. If anything, he should have been asking you that question. Why were you stillhere, allowing him to dive further into obsession, destroying everything he knew to be true about himself with just the tips of your fingers? It was cruel and unjust that someone like yourself, someone so small and seemingly insignificant held such power over him. It was infuriating, maddening and he wondered if you knew as his eyes met yours only to melt further. You didn't look away, no, instead you matched his intensity with brows that were furrowed in curiosity. That uncomfortable pounding in his chest returned and what he could only assume was rage forced his breath to quicken again, but then you intertwined your fingers with his, which made everything stop all at once.

"Are you going to kill me?"

The answer to that question was what frightened him most. Without warning, he ripped his hand from yours along with his gaze and turned to disappear down the hallway. It was an unforgivable mistake on his part to return to you, that much was certain, because no, he wasn't going to kill you. In fact, the encounter hadn't given him a single answer as to what he wanted with you, it only worsened his confusion and brought about doubt of himself. Perhaps he did have a weakness, a living, breathing one. He needed to escape it, kill whatever it was inside of him that betrayed him so wickedly. Your footsteps behind him made him grit his teeth as he strode through the door he'd left open to leave you to the night, but your hand found his wrist before he could vanish.

"Wait," you demanded.

The sudden and unwelcome contact forced his instinct back to the surface and before you could blink, you were forced back into your kitchen with a hand around your neck. The wind was knocked out of you when your back hit the counter and you squeezed your eyes shut, afraid that perhaps you'd finally crossed that thin line you'd been treading on since the moment you met him, but his grip didn't tighten. He watched you brace yourself and in turn, crumbled at the sight. Prey, he thought to himself, you were supposed to look just as you were with his hand around your throat. You were supposed to be frightened, you were supposed to beg for your life and yet, when your trembling hands met his wrist, it was the last thing he wanted you to do. It wasn't that he didn't want to hear you beg, he did, but he wasn't quite sure what for as he had you pinned with his own body pressed against you. He'd seen this dance before, but it wasn't one he ever bothered to learn. Human touch such as this for Michael only ended death, he'd never been forced to consider any other use for his hands. He thought back to his own worries earlier that night and realized he was indeed out of his depth, just as he was afraid he would be. He had you exactly where he wanted you, but what now? His head canted to the side as he watched your chest rise and fall in quick succession. Your eyes were still glued shut, anticipating death, but death had a different idea. The safety of darkness still surrounded the two of you and with your eyes refusing to open, Michael lifted his mask up. You felt his fingers brush your jaw and inch their way into your hair to hold the back of you head, then you felt something else. A kiss was what he gave you, gentle and inexperienced, but in his softness you received the answer you'd searched so diligently for. He lingered there for a moment, stunned by his own actions and more so when you returned them. You kept your hands on his wrist and kept them still, aware that this was his limit, this was all he could handle for the time being, but you guided him in your wordless response. Your lips pressed firmer against him, you moved slowly, but deepened it with each press. His hand began to tangle in your locks, clenching as his mind screamed for release, for violence. It was an effort to fight off those instincts, but he did so valiantly just for a few more moments of this, of softness, of you. You carefully lifted your hand to place it over his, which still rested at the back of your head, fingers knitted tightly in your hair. He relented, just slightly, but when you let out that soft sigh, it was too much. It was too intimate and just like that, his lips left you as did his hand. When you opened your eyes you were alone, as if his touch had simply been a dream all along. The only evidence of reality was the door, which he'd left ajar to leave you with nothing but the sound of wind to fill his absence.

Questions were what he'd left the first time, but now, it was frustration that consumed you in his wake. You'd gotten an answer, in a sense. He didn't want to kill you, he wanted you and you kept it safely hidden within the walls of your pericardium that he wasn't alone in his desire. He left you wanting, wishing and waiting for a killer to return and finish what he'd started, for him to claim you as his own. The mere thought had you unraveling, because what on earth was wrong with you? Why had you allowed such a thing to happen in the first place? Why did you kiss him? More importantly, why did you love every second of it? His lack of experience hadn't dulled the sensations he forced upon you, if anything it enhanced them. Haddonfield's reaper had chosen you and spared you the scythe for a kiss, one you couldn't seem to stop from popping into your mind at the most inconvenient times. It haunted you and it stripped you of each and every one of the morals you thought you'd had, based on one simple fact; you wanted more. However, this time months passed and you were forced to find ways to pluck him from your mind, which meant when a coworker called you up to ask if you'd like to go to dinner, you said yes. Of course, putting an end to the fantasy of Michael wasn't quite as simple as it sounded. Dinner was spent with your head on a swivel, half paranoid he'd find you and be less than pleased, half hoping he would and save you from the drab conversation you'd allowed yourself to endure for the sake of distraction. You were right to think he'd be watching and safe to say 'less than pleased' was an understatement. Jealousy was something Michael wasn't sure he'd ever felt before. In fact, he was convinced he really was starting to hate you for bringing so many emotions he didn't understand to the surface. Torture was clearly what you intended to put him through, but that was something he was well versed in and as he watched you kiss your date goodnight, he made a decision. You were indeed going to learn your lesson and if it ended in death, well, that would be your price for causing him such agony, because he didn't expect to behave gently after watching someone else's hands, someone else's lips touch what was his.

You kept your smile in place as you politely waved goodbye, but once the taillights disappeared you allowed it to fall with a groan and quickly wiped your mouth. Your date's enthusiasm for you was beyond unreciprocated, but you'd play the part well, perhaps too well. Hopefully he wouldn't call, you thought to yourself as you strolled up the walkway to your front door. You let out a sigh when you realized you'd forgotten to leave the porch light on and you had about a million keys to sift through in total darkness, of course. To make an already annoying night worse, you tripped. You managed to catch yourself, but the keys hadn't been so lucky. You bent down to retrieve them, cursing under your breath as you stood back up. You fumbled with them a moment more before finally pushing the key into the lock, but that was about as far as you got. You hadn't even heard footsteps to alert you to his presence, but suddenly, you found yourself pushed face first against the door and before you could let out a scream, a hand covered your mouth. It was familiar, the missing fingers were a dead give away. His other went to yours and forced you to turn the key. Why he'd even bothered unlocking it was a mystery, because he promptly turned you around and threw you over his shoulder before he broke the door open with brute force. Struggling was no use, he had a vice grip on your hips as he strode through the threshold with purposeful steps only to drop you on the counter.

"What the hell is your deal with me?" You spat out before you could stop yourself.

But before you even had time to regret your choice in tone, his hand was around your neck. That gentle grip he once had was lost and replaced with a menacing one that took your breath away. Your hands wrapped around his wrist with rage of your own at this cat and mouse game he was playing with you.

"M-Michael," you stuttered out with a pained expression, "whatever you're gonna do, just do it already."

You worried you'd come to regret that statement when he pushed you back on the cool marble with such force it made your head spin. His hand momentarily abandoned it's hold on you and you pushed yourself up just slightly, just enough to meet his eyes. The blue you'd once seen in his left one had turned dark, his pupil was overblown to erase any color, but it wasn't death you saw in that eerie gleam. Far from it. A different instinct had taken over and he knew exactly what he wanted to do to you. He quickly reached behind you and brandished a knife from the block on your counter. His movement's were hurried, frantic even as he tugged you forward by your hips so his waist rested between your legs. Then, he raised the knife up and you braced yourself. You must have mistaken that darkness in his eyes, it must have been bloodlust, you thought to yourself, but when he plunged it down it wasn't your flesh that tore. He'd taken it to your jeans, cutting them just enough so that when he tossed the knife behind you and grabbed each side of the fabric with his hands, he was able to rip them clean off of you. He didn't need the blade to remove the rest and now you were almost entirely exposed to him, save the top you silently resented him for destroying next. It looked expensive, Michael thought with a smirk behind his mask, but it looked much better torn to pieces. He was almost as unkind to his own clothes, he tugged the zipper of his coveralls down with such force the metal came loose and fell to the floor, leaving him free of any further confinement. You didn't even have time to glance down before he tossed on of your legs over his shoulder, pushed the other one to the side and plunged into you so deeply you feared you'd be ripped in two, just like your jeans. He allowed you no time to adjust, or catch your breath before he set an inhuman pace, one arm wrapped tightly around the leg over his shoulder and the other hand gripping your thigh hard enough to draw blood with his fingernails. He was silent, frighteningly so, while you failed to do the same. In fact, it seemed he was hell bent on making you scream, because once he found one particular spot that made your eyes roll back and your mouth hang open, he never left it. He managed to hit it each and every time he pushed into you and he relished in those gasps that quickly turned to wanton cries. Pain mingled with pleasure in a dizzying manner and you tried desperately to reach for him, to find anything to steady yourself on, but it was useless. He wanted to see you struggle and you were doing it perfectly, but if you wanted stability, he'd allow some. He stopped abruptly, bottoming out and drawing a pitiful whine from your open mouth so he could hook his fingers over your bottom teeth. With his thumb under your chin and his index and middle lodged in your mouth, he pulled you up by your jaw, the pain dulled by the overwhelming pleasure he'd pummeled your nearly limp body with. He brought you close, your half lidded eyes struggled to stay open as he lifted the bottom half of his mask up with his other hand and pressed his lips to your ear.

"Mine," he growled, low and harshly.

His breath fell hot over your bare neck, causing the ache between your legs to peak, begging for him to continue, but instead of giving you what you wanted right away, he pulled back and left you empty to readjust his mask. You whined, reaching for him before he grabbed your shoulders and turned you. He bent you over the counter and forced himself back inside of you while his hand snaked around your throat. He lifted you back up so that your back was pressed hard against his chest and the mouth of his mask was back at your ear.

"Say it," he breathed as he thrusted forward, slow but forceful.

You'd barely registered that he'd spoken the first time and now, with him buried so deeply inside of you, your cognizance was long gone. Each time he moved he seemed to go deeper, fully aware of the torture he was delivering in forcing you to hang on the edge of your orgasm. He could feel your body tensing around him, he knew you were dangerously close. Your head fell back on his shoulder as you struggled to form the response he desired.

"Yours," you whispered, but that didn't seem to satisfy him.

He thrusted harder, driving your body upwards. When your hand went to steady yourself on the counter, he grabbed it and held it tightly behind your back while the other squeezed your neck until you felt light as air. He grit his teeth, fighting off his own orgasm for the sake of punishing you further.

"Say it," he repeated with malice.

You were right there, so close to release that your mouth simply couldn't stay shut, but it wasn't breath you were so desperate for. You held it, brows furrowed in a mix of pain and pleasure so brutal you weren't entirely sure you'd survive another thrust. You felt his teeth at your neck, biting down as he let out a groan. It appeared he was in torment too, desperate in his own right to find release inside of you. His voice had driven you to madness, but those breathy moans he couldn't seem to hold in any longer were what sent you over the edge and that only made his struggle to maintain control harder. Your body pulsed so deliciously around him. You were tight enough to begin with, but now? It was too much and his head dipped lower in the crook of your neck to nip at your shoulder as his hips began to tremble from the exerted effort to keep his pace controlled. Not yet, not until he heard you say it.

"Michael," you gasped with your eyes wide open, though between the lack of oxygen and the intensity of pleasure, all you saw was white, "I'm yours, all yours. I'm yours."

Your whispered promises never stopped, they fell from your lips like little prayers and they had him spiraling. His ragged breath and the way each of his hands gripped you tighter and tighter should have broken you, but you clung to what little air he allowed for more of him. He'd long abandoned that slow, meticulous pace to chase his own high with a vengeance. His hand left your wrist and he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you flush against him when he found release. He bent forward, panting underneath his mask as he pressed you against the marble countertop.

"Yours," he heard you continue whispering and he loosened his grip on your neck.

He stayed like that for awhile, still buried deep within you and baffled by the entire ordeal, but you were so warm. No part of him wanted to separate from you or leave those little whispers behind. You felt his thumb absentmindedly brushing circles over your jaw and you supposed that must have been what brought you back to total consciousness, but you stayed still, afraid that if you moved he'd leave. His sudden softness was unexpected given the brutality he'd just displayed, but you found yourself melting into it. Between the exhaustion that had settled into your bones and the delirium that filled your head, those rough, calloused hands of his were exactly what you needed to bring you back down to earth with grace. He too was warm and you couldn't help but press your cheek into his palm, which caused his brow to furrow behind his mask. When his head withdrew from the crook of your neck, you let out a weak moan in protest, but he continued his departure from you in silence.

"Michael," he heard you mutter softly as he struggled through his own haze to gather himself.

He paused to observe your wrecked state. You still hadn't moved a muscle and he wasn't entirely sure you could even if you wanted to. He'd annihilated you, had you for his own and he should leave now. Right?

"Please don't leave me," you whispered.

You didn't expect him to oblige your simple request, you knew he'd already far surpassed his limits. You were killing him, he thought to himself and in such a strange way. It was instinct you'd stolen along with something else he supposed he did have after all, because as he watched you try and fail to push yourself up, it skipped a beat. He was aware he could blame it on age or his usual pent up fury, but he knew that would be a lie. It was you. You were both a curse and a cure to the quietus that possessed him, a plague upon the heart he once thought had lost it's rhythm to violence. It was mercy you'd infected him with when you touched him, when you healed him and mercy was something so foreign to Michael, but for you, he supposed he could try to give you his own version. You hadn't the energy to even feel surprise when he took you into his arms, but you had just enough left to smile as you rested your cheek against his chest. Perhaps he'd be gone when you woke or maybe he'd stay. Either way, you were Michael's. Or was it the other way around?

[esttillie]

*siiiigh* mooom, The Distortion is blushing again!

[cursiveinkwords]

hes just a lost puppy atp

[kknotphobia]

I keep forgetting I have tumblr BUT ITS STILL VALENTINE'S DAY FOR ME SO..here yall go

[morimemichael]

Not Allowed

Dbd!Myers x f!Reader

Reader it’s new to the realm, she gets a good first impression on everyone; killer and survivor. Tho there’s certain someone who seams to became too obsessed with her. She doesn’t get it, she thinks this killer hates her with all their guts. Sooner than later she finds that some interactions and relationships are not allowed in the realm.

WG: Some angst and cursing Michael actually talks but this is not actually a warning lol mentions of death, blood and gore. Michael and Ghostface have a bromance cause deep down they are besties. Dbd!Michael it’s based on RZ! Michael here. Use if y/n twice on the entire fic. Ghostface removes his mask. Michael removes his mask. Big old Pewpaw Kazan Yamaoka, aka, the ink is a great hugger. Happy ending(?)

You were brand new to the realm, like a new born baby. You didn’t understand what was going on, one night you went to bed and the next thing you know it’s the uncomfortable feeling of grass and wood sticks on your back. This was beyond clear that it wasn’t your bed.

You woke up scared as hell in an unknown forest to you, it’s was late at night you could tell and you didn’t met a single soul this far. All of that was vanished when the sound of what it seemed a camp fire stroked your ears, and for your surprise it wasn’t just a camp fire you could distinguish the sound of human voices too. It didn’t seem too far from were you currently were. So you walked a little faster while covering your chest with your own arms in a sutil attempt to combat the cold weather.

You stepped closer to the people in the camp fire to ask for help and maybe an answer to what was going on here. As you got closer could see a bunch of girls and a few boys. One of the girls had red hair and running clothes, the Oder one had short black hair, she was wearing glasses, the other one had also shirt hair, she was wearing a black and red shirt and loosen pants, on the other side; one of the boys was tall with very short black hair and when you herd him taking he had a british accent, the other boy had also black hair but it reached the mid of his face.

“Uhm, excuse me?” You said. Your voice low but clear. The red hair girl turned around to look at you. Suddenly everyone stopped talking.

“Oh my god…” The red hair girl stated. “Guys…I think we have a new partner!” She continued.

Everyone smiled at you and presented themselves. It turned out the red hair girl’s name was Meg Thomas, the girl with the glasses was Claudette Morel, the other girl was Nea Karlson, the British guy was David King and the other guy was Jake Park.

“Did you just arrived?” Claudette asked.

“Yeah…I don’t know where I am.” You stated.

“What’s your name girl?” Meg asked.

“Where are you from?” Another question, this time Jake.

“She’s gonna need a lot of help.” You herd David talking.

“Guys, why don’t we just let her sit with us and let her talk?” Nea said. It was the first time she talked.

You smiled for the first time.

You sat next to Meg and Nea and proceeded to tell every detail about you, your name, your age, where were you from. You told them that last night you had a fight with your parents and when you went to sleep you woke up here.

“We get you, we really do.” Jake spoke.

Everyone told you their personal story. How they end up here, but most important of all they told you what was going on in this place.

“There’s uhm…there’s something that we call the entity, that rules all of this place. She can do what she pleases with us and with everyone.” Nea talked looking at you.

“To survive and to keep every thing, no matter how small it might be, here with us, like some food and water, we have to go through trials.” Jake explained.

“Trials?” You asked confused.

“Yeah, we must repair five generators to open the exit gates.” Meg continued.

“That’s it? Just five generators? It’s a piece of cake…” you laughed.

“I wouldn’t say that if i were you…” David looked at you.

“Why not?” You talked back.

David sight, then he explained the most difficult part.

“We must face a killer that will be with us in the same place.”

“WHAT!? A real killer? Like from slasher movies?” You stated.

“Yes, a real killer.” David stated.

“N-no, no, I wanna go home, please!” You yell at the sky hopping this entity would hear you and somehow pity you.

Everyone looked at you with sad eyes, they knew you weren’t going home anytime sooner.

“Wish we could do something about it, I’m so sorry.” Jake spoke again after a long time.

You moved your head to the sides and looked down, a long sigh scapes your mouth. “Shit…” that’s all that came from you. Everyone remained silent for a while until you spoke again.

“So, how this trial thing works?”

“Well, the entity select some of us for the trial, four survivors to be exact. To help you in the trial you can carrie an object with you, this objects being a toolbox or a flashlight or a med kit and others. Every object has their own use, the toolbox can be use on the generators or to sabotage the hooks the killer use to hook us, by the way; the killer’s main goal is to hook us all in those hooks, flashlights are meant to blind the killer and save your teammates that se going to get hook, and last but not least the med kit as its name suggests can be use to heal yourself or your teammates. Also when you get hook-“ Claudette was interrupted by survivors who just came back from a trial. Four survivors emerged from the dar fog of this place.

“Gosh, that trial was so easy, I need something more challenging!” A young girl with blonde hair spoke.

“Hey Laurie, who was the killer this time?” David asked her.

Laurie? Like the same Laurie from the Halloween movies? You thought to yourself. The intrigue of knowing if you were right was eating your brain, you know you wouldn’t last any longer so you had to ask her.

“The trickster.” This girl said looking at David.

“Uhm excuse me, Laurie? Like Laurie Strode form the Halloween movies?” You finally asked her.

“Yes! I’m her. You must be new right?” She smiled back at you.

“Yes, in fact I got here a few moments ago.” You then proceed to present yourself.

“So nice to meet you! I know we’re gonna be good friends, watcha say new girl?” Laurie had a content face. New girl huh? You liked the new nickname.

“I hope so! By the way I loved that nickname!” Laurie smiled back at your words.

Nea joined your conversation with Laurie explaining further more how the trials work.

“Continuing with the trials, we’re gonna spawn in a map. In this map you will find certain constructions you can use to loop the killer, evade them or confuse them.

“Ok.” You listen very carefully to what Nea said.

Sooner than later you realize that some of the survivors that came with Laurie were from the Resident Evil game franchise. Leon and Jill were here, you wondered if others form the same games were too. You smiled when you saw Chris and Claire in this place too. You presented yourself like you did with everyone else and they seemed to like you as much as the rest did.

“We should tell you that some survivors came along with their respective killers, generally they are related to them. For example, Leon and me came along with Nemesis.” Jill explained.

“So…if you guys came along with Nemesis that means you Laurie came along with M-“

“Yes, I came along with Michael Myers.” She finished the sentence for you. The second you hear that afirmation you knew you no longer wanted to get back home.

“Gosh that’s awesome! I love the Halloween movies, as much as the Resident Evil games or the Scream movies. I love Halloween season so much, and Halloween loves me.” You gave the guys a mischievous smile.

“That’s great! But do let me tell you that most of the killers aren’t nice as us survivors. Some of them lack empathy and act rude. Tho I have to say some killers are nice sometimes.” Leon’s voice was calm but it sounded firm.

“I see, so uhm…Michael?” Your question was meant to find out how he acts in this place.

“Well, Michael has his “I think I could spare you” moments sometimes, but most of the time he just hooks us…he’s very accurate I would say.” Laurie didn’t have anything left to say about Michael.

You couldn’t help but feel a mix of disappointment and excitement, you wanted to face him so bad by now. Eventually the time for your first trial came, thankfully you weren’t alone, Laurie got picked too. You asume that the most optimal object to take with yourself for your first trial was med kit.

Soon the trial started and you couldn’t believe your eyes when you saw that the killer you were going against was none other than Michael Myers himself. You were over excited, you wanted to say hi, let him know how much you liked his movies. You wander how he was going to act this time, you assumed since you were new maybe he could spare you. He was lurking near the generator you were currently working on, unaware you were conscious he was there.

Something inside you made you leave the generator and get closer to Michael. You could see he was stalking Jill, who was also picked with you, David was here too, somewhere on the map. You got closer and closer to Michael until you were near his back. The sound of a wood stick breaking under your feet gave you away. He stopped on his track and tilted his head to the left making you know he heard you. Your heart was ricing at this point. He turned around completely to face you. You could hear him breathing behind his mask. His blueish eyes analyzing you. The leafs under his feet made a cracking noise as he slowly walked towards you. Walking in circles around you he kept looking you up and down. Something form you caught his attention, maybe you reminded him form someone, he didn’t know. One thing was certain, besides looking you he was also stalking you. He made a final step in front of you, this time he was very near you. You instantly thought it was your end when he lifted his kitchen knife at you. You closed your eyes ready to get hit and downed, but the empty feeling of nothing tearing your flesh apart made you open your eyes. Yes, he was still there but his didn’t made a single move against you, he didn’t even tried to down you.

“I-i uhm know you! I love your movies.” You didn’t know why you said that. You felt so stupid. He didn’t answer of course he just tilted his head to the left.

He started moving forward through the map that’s stroke you late it was Haddonfield. You were following him, you didn’t fully understand why he didn’t try to kill you or stab you. Asking him questions didn’t seemed a bad idea to you tho. “So, how you end up here?” And another one “How long have you been here?” And another “Why don’t you talk?”, “Don’t you miss your home?”, “I told you i love your movies right? I think i did..” You even told him your name and your age and the place you came form, even how you end up here. But he never answered, all he did was stopping whenever you asked something and turn around to look at you.

Later than sooner you realize he was heading toward Laurie, who happened to see all the interactions between Michael and you.

“New girl? What are you doing?! RUN!” She screamed at you. She stepped forward to grab your hand, and just as she saw Michael was going for you she stepped in the middle of you to. Michael grabbed her instead. He grabbed Laurie by the throat and buried the long kitchen knife in her abdomen.

“OH MY GOD LAURIE!” You scream in panic. The young blond girl struggled against Michael who buried the knife deeper fully killing her.

“LEAVE HER ALONE PLEASE, DON’T HURT HER!” Blood leaving Laurie’s body as he throws her on the street asphalt. He lowered his knife for a second and walked to your side, he looked again at you, this time inches away from your face. You closed your eyes waiting for your inevitably fate, which it never came. He lifted his knife again and went for the rest of the survivors, Jill and you were left until it was only you.

“Shit…” you muttered to yourself. You were just meters away from Michael who was facing back at you and still had his knife up.

You heard a little noice of something opening near you, but Michel herd it too. This time walking towards you, ready to curse him you saw how he walked pass you a few meters away and turned to look at you again, this time putting his knife down. He look down at what it seemed to you like a little door on the street, and look back up at you. You didn’t understand. You catch up with him and looked him dead in his dark eyes.

“Fuck..you..and this place and your stupid movies!!” He gestured down to the little gate again.

“I don’t get it!! I don’t know what it means…freak.” You were really starting to hate him, or you were just scared. Claudette didn’t finish to tell you that this things happen frequently. Deaths happen frequently, but you just didn’t know it. Michael gestured one last time to the little door and then looked up at you.

“FUCK! I don’t want it! Screw you bastard!” You push him a little bit, you knew this time you went too far when he grabbed you by your throat and push you against the nearest parked car. You tried your best to hit him hard, unfortunately he didn’t even react.

“I-i can’t…can’t breath Mich-michael…” You felt your air leaving your lungs. He gave you his signature look and move his knife closer to you. Then you finally felt it. Cold, it sting like, you finally felt the pain. Then all over again, and again, and again. He stabbed you, more than once. He wasn’t stabbing vital points, he was going slow.

“Please…” You pleaded, in vain, cause he didn’t stop. Instead he got out all the knife and finally stabbed you deeper. Little pain sounds scaped your mouth, and for the first time on this place you cried. Then all turned black. Just like that you were gone.

Michael put your body down, surprisingly with gentle moves. He kept looking at your dead body noticing what was left of your tears. He wasn’t going to kill you. When he saw you for the first time moments ago something woke up in him, he didn’t know what it was. You intrigued him in a way nothing ever did before. He wasn’t bother by your questions, the first time he looked at you was because he didn’t know what to do, he analyzed your gestures your face, your eyes...the other times he stopped when you asked him a question was on purpose, he wanted to look at your precios eyes just to be sure he wasn’t making it all up. He didn’t want to kill you, but…why did you act like that? He wanted you to leave, damn he even offered you the hatch. The second those hurting words left your mouth he felt attacked. He was trying to be nice, to do something nice…why couldn’t you be nice to him too? He was hurt, you caught his attention, but you hurt him. Why? You even said you loved his movies, why were you being so rude to him? He let his knife fell to the street, looking down he brought one hand to his masked face and one single scream was heard on Haddonfield that night. He was the only one left there.

The feeling of your death still lingered on your body the first time you came back to the camp fire. Laurie, Jill and David were already there due to that they have been killed earlier before you. You couldn’t help but feel awful.

“He…killed…he killed us. Like we were nothing.” You sounded so disgusted.

“Yeah new girl…most of the time it is like this. We forgot to tell you that killers hook survivors to sacrifice them to the entity. Or sometimes they can kill us with their own hand…like Michael did.” Laurie explained. You were so relieved to know that even if you or anyone gets killed they came back.

“I tried to be nice…i-i really did. I even want sure if he was going to kill me, but then he got you Laurie…” You continued.

“I saw all of it. And it was rare! He never acted like that with new survivors.” Laurie exclaime surprised.

“What you mean?” You replied back.

“He wasn’t just stalking you…he seemed to be analyzing you as well…who knows for what or why?” Laurie confirmed.

“Well that didn’t go well did it? I think he hates me…”

“I think he saw something in you. He likes you…” Laurie’s word were spoken so low you didn’t hear her, tho the rest of the survivors did, and they shared the same theory. Because killers can be nice sometimes, you heard killers like Ghostface, or Deathslinger, or even Oni had a good side….but Michael? He was known to be nice just three or four times since he got in the realm. It was unusual his behavior. And they know it, specially Laurie who came with him and Danny the Ghostface who seemed to grow closer to Michael over the years.

On the other hand, in the distant across the camp fire were the killers. They were all in the same place, hanging and resting like survivors did. It existed a physical barrier that separated the camp fire form the killers. Both survivor and killer could get near this barrier but couldn’t cross it. Survivors could meet the killers on trials or if the decided to go to certain map or place. Once there they could interact. But some interactions were not allowed. It’s not like something bad would happen to the survivor or the killer, it was the fact that the entity didn’t want that in her realm. It was known that when a killer didn’t do well in the trial, the entity would punish them, maybe she would make them see something they fear or hurt them the most, something about their past maybe. This only happens when the entity consideres it necessary.

Danny, Kazan, Caleb and Herman were watching the trial. They were also surprised Michael tried to spare the new girl. Of course the also saw how you rejected the offer. Michael came back to the other side of the camp fire with the rest of the killers, head pointing down.

“Hey Mike, you’re okay?” Danny asked him, his vice distant due to the ghost face mask. Michael didn’t answer he just looked at him. It’s not that they didn’t hear him talking tho, this time he just chose to remain silent and walk away. Danny was going to follow him but Caleb stopped him.

“Leave him be, give him some space…” Danny looked at him, then his head turned to look at Michael walking away. His eyes looked down behind his mask. He then decided to walk away too.

“Rejection can hurt.” Kazan said. His English still had a fainted Japanese accent.

“Sure does.” Herman added.

Michael made sure there was nobody with him. Once he realized he was all alone, his hands reached the bottom of his mask and pulled it up, reveling his face. Long blond and a little dirty hair covered part of his face. He couldn’t stop thinking about you. Your eyes, the way you walked with him while asking questions, your hair, your face…then he remembered those harsh words leaving your mouth. He wanted to understand, he needed to understand so bad why, why did you do that? He was trying to be nice, he usually isn’t. He knows he’s mean, selfish, he has a dark twisted heart, if he even had one. He find himself surprised by the choice of letting you go, to leave through the hatch. He lives for the hunt, the cat and mouse play, the adrenaline he feels when he kills. He’s no good and he knows it very well. On the other hand he felt hurt at your words…he felt…something was wrong with him, it must be right? He never experienced anything let along feelings. So he got to the conclusion that he was just offended by some words. You had offended him, yet here he is, thinking non stop of you.

Back to the others, Caleb was taking with Kazan.

“I think…I think he either likes her or she became his obsession. I mean, she seems like a nice girl, we didn’t cross paths yet. He’s the first one she goes against.” Said Caleb.

“Dark, twisted, small and very broken, but he has it.” Kazan abruptly said. Caleb wasn’t following.

“Excuse me?

“Soul.” Kazan explained. “His soul is dark, twisted, small and very broken, but he has one.” He finished. Caleb rises an eyebrow at Kazans words as to say he is not understanding him.

“Souls, I can see. Souls, I can sense.” Kazan said.

“It’s that so? How’s mine then?” Caleb teased.

“Baka…” It wasn’t rare at all for the Oni to speak Japanese now and then, he just told Caleb he’s a moron.

“Oh come on Kazan! You know my Japanese it’s not fresh!” Caleb protested then saw Kazan walking away.

Days turned into weeks in the realm and you were getting better at trials and so far killer you face killer you got to like you, not as much as Michael apparently. The things with him didn’t change unfortunately. Whenever you two go against each other he tries to give you hatch even if he didn’t sacrifice anyone. All the words that left your mouth were hate words and curse words. You decided if he was going to hate you you will hate him back. Tho deep down you didn’t like that idea. Now and then you catch yourself waking pass the limit of the barrier, just in case you see him. At this point it was like a dynamic. You would face him in a trial, get at his nerves, sometimes he would try to give the hatch anyway but you always complain. And that ends in painful death. You felt like he kills you slower than the rest on purpose. He won’t admit that he also walks pass the limit of the barrier, but in his case he does see you, he sees everything thing you say or do. Of course he does this intentionally. He doesn’t know why he keeps torturing you like he does, or even why he keeps torturing himself watching you knowing nothing will ever happen. Maybe all he wants is to make you hurt, because that way he gets to hear you begging him and saying his name so low.

Michael…please. Stop it.

A soft beg said in a soft voice. All you ever mean by this is for him to stop killing you like he does. He gets you sacrificed sometimes, but you rather get sacrificed a million times than to feel the cold of his kitchen knife stabbing you deep in your guts in the most slow way possible.

By now, you have met all the survivors and went against every killer. But you were closer to Laurie, Nea, Jill, Leon, Yun Jin, Feng, Yui, Oni, Ghostface, the Deathslinger, the Spirit and Wesker. It’s not like you didn’t like the rest of killers and survivors, you just were closer with some. You would often speak with Wesker to hear about genetic stuff, and then you would tease him about some random word you thought it was funny. He would look at you and say something like:

“Hey don’t push me new girl, you will not want me to go Michael!” He laughed. His sense of humor was evident not shared with yours.

“That was not funny Albert.” You said, he looked down.

“I apologize.”

“Rude..” You smiled when you heard Kazan saying that when Albert left.

This far you couldn’t really complain about your staying here. You wish things with Michael were different tho. There was this time when you faced The Doctor, and you were carrying a flashlight, you were getting good at flashlight saves, everything was laugh and fun. You blind him several times, and save your teammates a couple of other time too.

“Hey stop it with the flashlight, new girl! I can call you new girl too right?” Herman asked, annoyed but with a yet friendly tone. In response you pointed the flashlight to his face and granted permission to call you bay your nickname.

“Come on!!! Stop it! I’m warning ya!” He yeld.

“Or what doc?” You really weren’t taking him seriously. Next thing you know is you’re hooked then unhooked, and hooked again. The second time one of your teammates unhooked you, Herman tunneled you and killed you with his own hands.

When you came back to the camp fire you were laughing like a maniac. You really had a good time, not fully caring if you got tunneled or not. Michael, on the other hand, didn’t like that. Not.a.single.bit.

What happened next? The next trial you went on, you and Feng were the only ones left, and guess what? Your were going against Michael, again. This time was different, he actually down you with normal hits and hooked you, it was your first hook when Feng tried to rescue you. It’s not necessary to say Michael grabbed her before she could unhook you. He grabbed poorFeng by the neck and then looked at you, then back at Feng, she knew what was coming. He killed her with his own hand many times before, she didn’t mind at this point. But you? Oh boy you did care…

“Michael…” You say terrified. He tilted his head, he didn’t say a single word but you knew he meant to say “what?” He lift her from the ground and started to get his knife out.

“No please…Michael,” You knew he saw that trial with Herman, you were having fun with the flashlight, then you got tunneled, but you didn’t care, why did he? You could tell it was some type of pay back on Herman, because Feng was his survivor. But..you weren’t his…

Of course Michael was getting his pay back, he just wasn’t going to admit it to you. Pay back exactly for what? For the tunneling? Or maybe was cause he saw you laughing and having fun with Herman instead of him. He thinks he deserves that from you too. Or maybe not, by the way he kept killing you he didn’t doubt why you hated him so much. He just didn’t know what to do. Deep down he must feel that he has to hurt you bad because you hurted him, you kind of rejected him, and one part of him resented you for that. But his other part knows that giving you the worst death of the trial was the only way to get you to talk nicely to him…the way you beg…maybe he wanted so bad to hear you beg cause he couldn’t let himself beg you for attention, for that thing he felt only wfor his mother and his little baby sister, a little bit of love.

Him? Begging? Michael Myers never begged. Victims beg him for mercy, beg him to spare them. He wouldn’t allowed to do that himself.

“Please!!! PLEASE!! LET HER GO!” He didn’t listen any of your words, and the tip of his knife threatened to go deeper into Feng’s belly. You didn’t know what else to do, what else could you say.

“I’m sorry Michael! I’m so sorry, it’s my fault!” The desperate plea for Michael to stop for a second. He knew you didn’t mean to apologize for how you been treating each other. You meant that Feng death was your fault. He turned to look at you. For a second you thought you got it, he would stop. Reality hitter you like a truck when you heard Feng’s desperate cries of pain.

“NOO! PLEASE! FENG!” You cried and sobbed hard. “I’m so sorry Feng.” You apologized to your already dead friend laying on the cold snow of Ormond.

“Why…” Tears falling from your eyes like waterfalls. “Why are you doing this to me? Why I’m not even allowed to have friends…I need them Michael…” you continued.

He remained silent.

“I fucking hate you…your making it impossible for me to be here!” You reclaim.

Imposible for her? He thought. You were the one who put his world and all he knew this entire time upside down. If your harsh words hurt him, this hurt him even more. All of a sudden he got closer to you, and closer….to the point you two were face to face. He hit you with his knife while you were hooked. It was already too late when he noticed that the sharp blade of his knife had cut deep on your throat.

Your face of sudden realization he sliced your throat and your were bleeding out was too much for him. He closes his eyes every time he kills you, but this was too much. This felt way more painful that his normal killing mode. Tears running down your face as you tried to cover your bloody throat in pain. Not being able to tolerate seeing you die like this in so, so much pain, Michael left. He left you there alone to die in the cold.

The trial ended and Michael came back before you, stepping into the other side of the camp fire with the rest of the killers, he was met with Danny, Kazan and Herman.

“Bro…was cutting her throat open really necessary there?” Danny asked him, not really judging him, cause after all you got sacrificed and that what counted. Michael leaned back against the nearest tree there. He looked at Danny, and for the first time since he met you he decided that talking wasn’t going to hurt him that bad.

“No it wasn’t. I don’t know why I did that.” He answered Danny’s question.

Herman decided to join the conversation too.

“Are you okay Michael?” Herman asked. Michael didn’t reply what he expected. He looked at Herman, and for one second he felt ashamed of what he did to Feng Ming, but specifically why he did it. And then something he never thought he would say.

“I’m sorry about Feng Ming.” Herman opened his eyes more…if that was even possible.

Michael gathered himself from the tree and walk away. Kazan made a gesture to Danny. Follow him, that’s what he was tending to say. Needless to say Danny got the hint almost immediately. Danny stood up and quickly tried to put up with Michael.

On the camp fire side, desperate cries and tears came down your face. It turns out that, since Michael cutted your throat while you were still on hooked, when you came back you found out by Laurie’s words that a thin but long scar adorned you neck. You couldn’t believe it. You loved using necklaces and stuff, but now? You wouldn’t be able to use one without the scar sticked to your neck like a bad tattoo.

“I can’t believe this…” You cried. You were so weak that Laurie was holding you by your left arm as Rebecca told you to go to the medical support room, which it was only another part of the camp fire, but with the few things Rebecca could gathered around to help, heal and examine other’s wounds.

“It’s ok girl…we got you.” Laurie reaffirmed. You wouldn’t stop crying. Rebecca was walking in front of you, and Laurie still by your side. You heard a distant “Michael wait!” You recognized that voice immediately.

Ghostface…Danny. You thought. You knew He was close with Michael so you figured out he must be with him.

If I see him I’ll kill him. You thought to yourself. Of course you knew the odds of actually killing a Killer were none, %0. But this time Michael has gone too far and now all you wanna do is tell him how bad he has hurt you. Was he even going to react at your words? Probably not. You turn to look at your left were the barrier was, and you were right. Ghostface was trying to keep up the pace walking Michael had. Laurie seemed to notice you notice Michael on the other side, and gesture to Rebecca to stay with you for a moment.

“Hey, Michael…HEY!” She spoke caughting his attention. Michael stopped and turned to look at Laurie as she got closer and closer to the barrier.

“What’s your deal with her?! You went too far this time! She came back crying and sobbing like an animal!” Michael didn’t react to her words, which only made you angrier. You stepped closer to the barrier as well next to Laurie, this time you were beyond hurt.

“Why…? Why you hate me su much?!” That’s all you could ask.

Michael looked at you but to he was showing no emotions, and you were really starting to suspect it was not due to his mask, you truly believed he hates you for something you couldn’t completely understand.

“You know what? Fuck it I’m done trying to talk to you and to ask-no, beg you to speak back to me and tell me what I did wrong…” tears running down your face.

Michael saw you crying, leaning against Laurie for help. The effort you did in your last trial with him was too much to handle for your little frame. Besides, the feeling of getting your throat cut open was awful. His eyes looked down behind his mask, he couldn’t stand seeing you like this. The sound of your cries and sobbing were tearing through his chest, straight to his heart, if he even had one. He didn’t put a name to what he was feeling and experience when you were with him or near him, all he knew was death, blood and pain. He couldn’t afford to feel anything else…right? With that in mind he turned around and walk away silently.

“Yeah, walk away…like you always do.” You said in a low tone. Throat still hurting for the previous abused it received. He pretend no to listen to what you say. He couldn’t help but feel how something inside started to break.

Michael wondered if the entity was going to do something about this eventually. Little did he know that in reality, the entity was amazed by you and how you treated Michael the first time you met him. Needless to say, that the entity knew how both of you felt for each other. And the only reason she was going to allow what she was going to do, was because she knew both, you and Michael, would react eventually and arrange the differences between you two.

The entity had a plan.

Michael kept stalking you from the dark the rest of the night, that’s how he found out you wanted a choker to cover up the nasty scar. He wasn’t alone tho, Danny was with him. “Ahh…I really would like a choker.” Those were your exact words.

“You heard that Mike?” Danny asked looking at him, smiling behind his mask. Michael nodded.

“I..want to apologize..for..everything I did to her.” Michael said, looking down, eyes to coward to look at you complaining about the scar, a scar he gave you.

“Hey! Now we’re talking!” Danny’s voice a little bit enthusiastic. “How you plan on doing that? I don’t think by just saying that she will even consider to forgive you man…”

“I’ve got an idea…” Michael looked at Danny, then proceeded to whisper in his covered ear what he was going to do.

“It sounds great Mike! You’ll will need lots of paper and fabric. Maybe your mask supplies might work that thing as well!” Danny said looking at your throat’s scar.

“I’m going to Haddonfield.” And with That Michael made his way to his own home town.

Michael spent all night on Haddonfield working on something to give you as for an apology. On the other hand, you didn’t do much, you didn’t had trials that day, until like 6 o’clock you spent your time talking with Kazan, and Danny.

“I don’t like my scar…”

“Scars are sings of fight, if you survive fights it means your strong, therefor scars shows strength.” Kazan spoke.

“I agree with this big red guy here.” Danny added.

“I guess your right guys.”

Somewhere meters away from you, on the killer side, Evan and Caleb were sharing a interesting conversation. You see, Evan since he’s been here long before most of the killers he can speak with the entity sometimes.

“So…your telling me the entity’s plan is basically hope for the best? There’s no way we can know how he will react to it. He has never been punished before!” Caleb said.

“We gotta trust her plan Caleb.” Evan said, his gaze looking up where the entity is supposed to be.

“I hope she don’t do wrong.”

“She never does, Caleb. She never does.”

Time passed and you keep talking with Kazan and Danny from your side of the camp. Danny telling you something about his camera you didn’t quite catch the meaning. It was so specific and technical you didn’t even try to understand it. Then you asked Kazan to tell you everything he knew about the Samurai. You’ve always loved Japanese culture, you wanted to go someday to japan too.

“I would have loved to travel to Japan…” Your voice flooded with sadness.

“It’s so beautiful…my country…I don’t doubt you would have love it.” Kazan replays.

You were so focused on your conversation with Kazan and Danny that you didn’t notice Michael joining them. When you saw him all the joy on your face instantly disappeared. It’s like you couldn’t had one minute alone, not even a day! Kazan and Danny didn’t understand your sudden change of mood.

“What the hell do you want now?” You said, eyes wouldn’t dare to leave that white mask of his.

Both Kazan and Danny looked at each other, raised their shoulders until they looked behind themselves.

“Guys, can we move somewhere else please? I don’t have time nor the energy to deal with this freak.” You said looking dead to Michael’s eyes. Danny examined Michael for a moment and noticed something in his right hand.

“New girl…” Danny looked at you.

“What??” You already sounded pissed.

“Please, just give him a moment…” He said. It was the first time you heard The Ghostface say “please”, so for the sake of it you listed.

Michael stepped closer to the barrier, Danny and Kazan gave him space so his now was positioned in the middle. He reached his right hand to the edge of the barrier beneath him and tossed something to your side. You looked at it confused.

“I don’t get it, the hell do you want?!” You yeld at him.

Michael looks down at the object then back up at you. He wanted you to grab it. You sigh ruin discomfort as you bent down to grab it. Still didn’t catching what it was. All you knew it was soft to the touch.

“And I’m still don’t getting it, maybe I’m just stupid or perhaps you should fucking talk to me already!!” You were getting angrier every minute.

“I think you should open it..” Kazan has an idea of what could it been, you said earlier that you hated your scar, so he though maybe it was a necklace. You looked at Danny for his opinion too. He just nodded.

“Agh!! The things I do for you guys…” You said, your voice still angry. Michael couldn’t help but to feel bad you wanted to spend time with them but not with him.

Your eyes filled with anger when you saw this thing was a choker, and you didn’t even know why. Deep down you wanted to forgive him, you just couldn’t seem to find a reason.

“Sorry.” A single word scaped Michael’s mouth. It was the first time he ever spoke to you. Yet you felt it wasn’t enough. This wasn’t a worthy apology.

“Sorry? SORRY?! That’s all you could came up with?

“New girl, I think you shou-“ You didn’t let Danny finish.

“Your pathetic! Your fucking pathetic you hear me? I can’t believe I told you I loved your movies. How I regret that, I regret being nice to you..” You were angry as ever.

The bad treat continued, once, twice..you couldn’t count how many bad, nasty and hurting things you said to him.

“Childish!”

“Coward!”

“Fuckin evil!!”

“I hope you die fucking bastard, I want you dead!”

You tossed back the choker to the other side in contempt, and when you finished something scaped your mouth. Something that even in the most agitated of situations you wouldn’t even think of saying.

“Your mom was a fucking whore, a filthy slut. I bet she didn’t even wanted to have you in the first place!! Why don’t you just leave me alone, damn it!” You yelled at him hitting the invisible barrier that separated you from him and your friend killers. You knew thanks to the movie his mom used to be a stripper. His heart skipped a bit when you said that. Now he knew for sure he had a heart.

If he was hurt before now he was torn to pieces. But what torn apart his heart the most was knowing that, despite what you had just said, what he felt for you didn’t change a damn bit. With no more further a do, he proceeded to walk away. Danny followed him as usual, trying to get him to stay.

“Come on Mike! Don’t leave.” He yelled. “You went way too far kid…Kazan, looked at the choker.” He continued, he notice something written inside the choker, you just hadn’t seen it. Kazan took the little fabric from the dirty ground, wipped of the dirt and read it. Danny far gone by now.

“Kazan…? What does it say?” You asked him.

“You made me human…” This words stabbed you right in your chest. You knew very well the pain of getting stabbed, but this? This can’t be compared.

You felt awful. Why did you said that? It’s not like you even meant it. You felt your eyes filling with tears again at what you just said to him. All alone you thought that hurting him back the way he’d hurt you would make you feel better. But it didn’t. It just made you feel worse. Like you had no soul.

“I…I really messed up here, didn’t i? Kazan?” You looked at his red Oni mask.

“I’m afraid you did…” He confessed.

“Oh my god…what did I do?” You tried to see if you could find Michael with your eyes from your side of the camp. What you didn’t know was that the moment Michael tossed you the choker he made the entity put to work her own plan. You could hear a distant voice, again it was Danny.

“Hey, Mike! Hey!! Michael!” Danny exclaimed, yet no answer from Michael. Danny’s exclamations for Michael became more and more audible. Something was wrong, you knew it, you could feel it. You ran in direction of Danny’s voice.

“Dude wake up! Michael!” Danny kept saying. You got there panting and sweating. Kazan followed a little bit after.

“What’s wrong with him?” You asked.

“I don’t know, he was like this when I catch up with him.”

You could see his body was struggling. His left hand holding his knife, knukles white as milk. His breathing could be heard from where you were. He was getting trouble to breathe. Soft pants and groans suddenly left his mouth too. He sounded like he was in pain, but physically he looked fine. No blood or sings of injuries. It take you a lot of effort to notice through his eyes of his mask that his real eyes were glued shut and a few tears running down.

“Oh my god…his eyes! Look at his eyes.” You told Danny.

“He’s crying!” Danny said surprised.

“Something’s wrong with him. Something’s wrong with him!” You exclaimed. His groans and pants became louder.

“Ahh agh…” Michael complained. Hearing him like this putted you on desperate mode. You tried hitting the barrier unsuccessfully, even kicked it several times.

“Please let in through!” You yelled at the sky, knowing the entity will hear you.

“Do something, guys. Help him! I can’t do anything from here!”

Danny tried to shake his body. No responce. Kazan snaked his body even harder. Again, no response. You noticed some pamphlets in the ground near his boots. You pointed this out to Danny and Kazan. It didn’t took you long to realize that those were her mother’s stripper pamphlets. So did Ghostface and Oni.

“He’s being punished…” Kazan said.

“What? Why?!” You cried. “It’s because of the choker?” You asked.

“Maybe, we don’t know.” Danny spoke.

“No! Please, it’s not his fault it’s mine! I’m the one who should be punished. Please!” You begged to the entity. At this point Michael had his head looking up. Grantings of pain still scaped his mouth.

“No Michael, Michael…listen to me!” You looked at his poor suffering form. “I was wrong. I was wrong! All of this wasn’t your fault. I overreacted, okay? And your mom? Your mom was a beautiful person. She did everything she could for you and both your sisters! I was wrong Michael. I’m so sorry…so so sorry! I didn’t mean anything of this to happen…” You sobbed while explaining yourself. Michael managed to look down at you.

Desperation taking over your body, you punched and kicked the barrier. Demanding the entity to let you in just this once.

“Please!! Please, i-I’ll do anything!” You begged her.

From the distant, Caleb and Evan could hear your screams. They know what was already happening, that’s why the decided that not interfering was the best option. Nothing could have prepared the people on this realm for what was about to happen. Your hands banging the barrier were suddenly met with grass and dirt. You fall, that was for sure. But you had fallen into the other side of the camp. To everyone’s surprise, there was no barrier separating both camps anymore.

“Did just the barrier…” Caleb asked Evan. “What did just the entity do?”

“Allowing what was not allowed.” Evan sounded happy. The entity’s plan was working.

You didn’t have time to enjoy your new freedom nor did you killer friends. As soon you got up you went straight to Michael. Holding him by his broad shoulders, you reassured him.

“I’m here Michael! I’m here. Please come back to me.” You begged him, this time was different. You noticed his hands still struggling and clenched. You grabbed the hand that was holding the knife to see if you could easy some of that tension. Worried eyes examining his mask to catch any sign that he was okay.

Suddenly his struggling stopped and his head went down. Your hands fly up to grab his masked face only to be met by his free hand around your neck, squeezing tightly.

“Dude what are you doing?!” Danny yelled.

“Michael, it-it’s me…” Your air leaving your lungs. His hand dangerously tight around your neck. Threatening to break it right there.

“Judith…” He growled. The entity no longer had him seeing the posters of his stripper mother, his school bullies or his stepfather. Now he was having living flashbacks of his older sister, Judith.

“N-no, Michael please, y-you know me…” It was getting hard for you to speak due to the lack of oxygen.

“Don’t speak.” His hand squeezing harder. “I hate you.” The flashbacks of his selfish sister were really getting to him. It all was so real to him that without noticing he was getting his knife near your belly again.

“Dude-dude, if you killer her she’s not coming back, she’s it coming back Michael!” Danny said trying his best to help you. Michael looked at him for one second or two, then he continued to reach for your belly. In a desperate measure, Danny took off his ghostface mask and grabbed Michael’s hand that was holding his signature kitchen knife.

“Mike, who am i?” Danny asked. Another desperate attempt to make him come back to himself.

“L-loomis.” Michael growled at him.

“No, Michael you know me, come on! Who am i? He asked again.

“D-danny..Danny.” Michael said. You could see the tears in his eyes. He was fighting this.

“Good! Good, now, who is she? You got this you know her.” Danny cheered him up. Michael looked at you, eyebrows frowned.

“J-j…Judidth.”

“No..” You left out a sight. You cried even harder when you noticed Michael raising the knife up.

“Dude stop!!” Danny yelled again, this time ready to do something about it but Kazan had to hold him down.

“Let me go Kazan!”

“You’re only going to make it worst.” He stated, holding Danny down.

“Michael..” You sobbed. You prepared yourself when he got ready to stab you. One final stab, and you were going to see dark…fall to eternal sleep. One last thing scaped your mouth before closing your eyes.

“I love you, Michael Myers…” it was low, you hadn’t much air left. But you didn’t want to leave this world without letting him know this. You glue shut your eyes one last time to embrace his final stab. You even heard Danny screaming “Stop!! Stop it!!!” You were ready now, waiting patiently for your inevitable fate. You flinched your eyes anticipating the blade, but the blade cutted through nothing. You opened your eyes. Somehow you succeeded to get Micheal back. The entity’s plan had worked without you even noticing. He let you fell to the ground so as he did with his knife. Danny and Kazan ran to help you get up. You tried to reach for Michael’s arms but he rejected your touch.

“No…i-i” That was all he could say.

“It’s not your fault Michael.” You assure him. But he just took off leaving the three of you there. He wasn’t the only one afraid to keep touching you it appear. Danny hand left your arm and Kazan took a step back. You gave them a “I’m not following you guys” look.

“It’s just that…this barrier thing, never happened before. We never touched you before, none other than to kill you ir sacrifice you…” Danny spoke for both of them, Kazan and himself.

You reached your hand to Danny’s uncovered face, and cupped it in your warmth. He embrace it immediately. Closing his eyes and smiling.

“You look better with the mask off.” You laughed, he did the same.

“If you say so…”

“Kazan…come here!” You told him with opened arms. He seemed hesitant at first.

“Come…” You insisted, smiling.

“Hug?” He asked.

“Yes!” You exclaimed. The tenderness in his hug cought you by surprise for such a big and buffed man like him.

You stayed like that for a few minutes until Michael was the topic of conversation again. You asked Danny where he might have gone.

“I think I know where..” He said.

The single Street and the kind of trees in the block gave the map away very fast. You were again on Haddonfield.

“I know he sometimes comes here to make mask or whenever he feels bad or angry…I don’t know which house it’s his house tho.” Danny explained.

“Oh don’t worry I know which one is it.” You looked at his still uncovered face.

“Okay, good luck New Girl…if he doesn’t speak right away you should come back later.” He said ready to leave when you said one last thing to him.

“You know Danny…your not that bad after all.” It was the first time he heard you call him by his real name, it always had been “hey ghost!” Or “Ghostie!” It felt good hearing that coming from someone he considered a friend.

“You know y/n…Michael wasn’t wrong after all.”

“I don’t follow.”

“You did made us human after all.” You smiled at his statement then he walks back to the camp.

Once you reach Michael’s house you stepped in. Thinking to yourself he must be upstairs you went up. There was only one room with its door opened. Michael must be in there. You were reaching the end of the stairs, walking as slowly as possible to not give your self away. The house wasn’t helping much tho, with each step you made the wood underneath you cracked. He wasn’t unnoticed to the sound he thought perhaps was the wind since he had the windows open. Your small frame compared to his made a silhouette on his door frame.

Once inside his room you could see he had fully decorated its walls with handmade masks he had done himself. Just like in the movie, but that was on the prison cell instead of his real room. You saw him sat in a chair near a wooden desk. His mask still on, his head was down. His chest moving up and down.

"Michael…" You soft voice soothed his ears. He looked at his left, letting you know he knew you were there. "I'm not here to fight you. Not anymore." You said. Michael didn't react. His breathing sounded soft. Him not having any type of reaction made you move closer to him, until you were besides him. Your left hand resting on his right shoulder. Your eyes wondering the masks hanged on the wall in front of you.

"They are beautiful. You know that?" You told him giving his right shoulder little masages. He looked up to contemplate them. You didn't know how you went from looking masks to have him face to face again and your back pressed yo the wall. By now you were expecting nothing less than a kiss. He grabbed you by both your shoulders and lowered his head until it was pressed against your left collarbone.

This is not a kiss. You thought.

Soft sobs could be heard behind his mask, they were muffled by the same, but you were able to hear them. Then suddenly, he spoke again.

“I’m so…so sorry.” Your heart melted at his words and you couldn’t resist but to hold him tight against your little chest compared to his. More muffled sobs coming from Him.

“It’s okay…I’m the one that should be apologizing.” You replied back.

“You already did.” He lift his head to look at you.

You felt the urge to know how he looked behind that mask. What was he hiding. You didn’t have to take out his mask to know he was beautiful. Took your hand move to the edge of it. Michael moved his head back, hesistant.

“Let me see you Mike.” Hearing you calling him Mike was all he needed.

Pulling the mask up with little effort was necessary to take it off. And just as you spectated, he has long blond curly hair, blueish eyes a big, but yet straight nose, and plump heart shaped lips. A beautiful face, just as you thought. You cupped his face with your hands just as you did with Danny.

“You’re beautiful Michael.” Your voice like a sweet whisper. He touched your lips with his thumb, caressing them like it was a newly found treasure. His treasure.

The feeling of his chapped lips on yours was inevitable. Tho he seemed to be the first to started it, as soon as he started he wanted to finish, scared you wouldn’t like it. But you insisted to kiss him longer. You wanted more. It didn’t matter that his lips were chapped. Eventually you two separated to get some air.

“You’re beautiful.” You reassured him again. He put his forehead against yours.

“And you’re the most beautiful human I ever seen.” He replied, voice deep and low. “Y/n?” He added.

“Yeah?”

“I love you too.” He finally said it. Finally admitted it and gave it a name.

A little time went by and now you were sitting on his lap seeing how he made masks. Your left arm wrapped around his shoulders for support.

“So, I put more glue over here and…we are done.” He was showing you how he made his masks.

“This seems interesting to make.” You replied.

“Are you sure you never done this before?” His mouth forming a little smile. Not fully believing you never done a paper mask before.

“Oh well…you caught me. I did. But a like to see you make them.” You said honestly.

“How cute.” Your heart flinched at his words and your cheeks flushed. “I like it when you flush”

“Stop it Michael!” You gave him a little tug on his coverall.

“Never.” He said looking into your eyes and give your nose a quick kiss.

You spent the rest of the night like this, laughing your lungs out and doing disasters with his glue.

That night loud voices were heard at Haddonfield. The difference this time was that Michael wasn’t alone, he had the best company he could’ve asked for.

I hope you enjoyed this! Sorry if there’s misspellings, English it’s not my mother language, have mercy please 🥹 I’m open to requests!!

[skinnywalker]

Adolescent attachment (kid RZ Michael Myers x kid male reader) Part 1

TW: homophobic slurs from Mikey's dad, violence, blood, mistreated baby Michael 😔

There is one good thing in this world. Only one reason why Michael got up in the morning. One reason why he put up with this hellish family. One reason why he went to school.

Him.

Micheal's only friend.

He was taller than Michael, meaner and basically his personal guard dog.

"Where'd you get that ugly shit anyway?"

His dad starred at the large new sweater Michael had dawned.

He didn't respond earning a muttered "queer bastard." From his father.

It doesn't matter though. Micheal has tuned out every voice of the people around him. Every voice expect-

"Mikey!"

He turns on the edge of the sidewalk to meet the pair of echoing steps coming towards him.

There he is.

"You walk so damn fast man!"

He looks so pretty when he is flustered for running.

"You like the sweater I made you?"

"Yeah I do. it's really soft."

He smiles.

His smiles always bring a smile to Michael.

The day goes slowly even with it being a Wednesday. Micheal can barely focus on anything else other than the sweater he has been wearing all day.

It's the first birthday gift he got from anyone other than his mom.

The first gift he ever got from a friend.

"Awww what's wrong shitface? You don't like soap?"

Two boys threw soap bottles and their contents at Micheal screaming and laughing. He spit and gaso trying to get the sting mess from his eyes and hair.

He'll show them.

"Micheal needs a strong hand to help him through his urges. He can't keep taking it out on animals. Ms. Myers it's very unsafe."

Micheal could only barely hear them anymore. He knew exactly what he was going to do.

He stood there above the bloody corpse of his former bully.

"Mikey? What are you doing over there?"

Silence.

"Mikey! What's going on-"

He froze starring.

Micheal watches his face carefully for any sign of fear, angry, unhappiness, anything.

"Good riddance."

He takes Micheal's hand and pulls him from the scene towards their sidewalk.

Michael knew he could trust him.

He was Michael's favorite person.

"You sure you can't go trick or treating with me?"

"I don't want to go either but my parents are insisting."

He sighs hugging Micheal tightly

"I'm really sorry mikey."

The walls of the hospital echo with screaming.

"NO! I WANNA SEE HIM! LET ME SEE HIM!"

"Micheal you can never see him again ok! You are dangerous!"

Dr. Loomis held him scratching and biting deep into his arms.

No.

It's not fair.

"You can't see him Micheal."

He doesn't listen.

Micheal will see him again.

Even if it kills the whole damn town.

[aster-oak]

michael, my beloved....thought i'd gift you with our little spiralised lad.....doors

[possuminatrench]

Wow wow wow would you look at that

MORE FUCK HANDS MACMIKE

For a silly lil dtiys

[per-civall]

Micheal’s Daily Routine

[luciferhollow]

Trapper with mimi Myers in Hooked on you

[nasa-kimchi]

An end

[spookychick78]

OG Michael Myers One Shot

A little continuation of the parking garage one shot as requested by the lovely @slasherhoe87​ 🖤🔪

also, its becoming glaringly obvious how much of a Myers simp I am with how much shit I’ve written about this man.

OG!Michael Myers X AFAB!Reader

Warnings: (Y’all knew this was coming) NSFW, Knife play, blood play, choking

Word Count: 3,697

In the following weeks, (Y/n) couldn't stop thinking of the man in the mask. She found herself searching for him around every corner, down every alley way and through every window. It hadn't taken her long to put it together that whoever he was had been the one causing that undeniable feeling of being watched, but why? He had left her with so many questions and now close to a month since it had happened, she wondered if she would ever get answers.

She put her car in park and exited into the cool night air. The parking garage that had so often than not made her uneasy had begun to excite her every time she came home. Though, that night her excitement had started to fade. He was never there and honestly, she wondered if maybe he had been a figment of her imagination after all. She hurried towards the little room with the elevators and as she opened the door she turned and gave the empty lot one more lingering glance. Nothing.

Michael scoffed as he watched her. She wasn't quite as adept as he was at finding her obsession, though he found her efforts amusing. How funny it was that he had become her obsession, he thought to himself. He took note of her constantly wandering eyes that almost always fell in his direction, unaware that he was indeed there, hidden in the shadows. She had been close several times, but it had become a game to him and one Michael was inevitably better at than she was. He had more patience. Usually. However, it was wearing thin. He too hadn't been able to forget the night he had shown himself to her. It had undoubtedly been a mistake to touch her. The feeling of her skin against his hand, though the exchange was mere seconds, had ignited a desire within him he didn't know he was capable of possessing. Michael couldn't deny himself much longer, he wanted to know her and more than just by the surface level knowledge he'd managed to obtain by just watching. Observing from a distance no longer satisfied him, he wanted more. He wondered if she would be frightened when she finally found what she was looking for. Part of him hoped she would be, fear had looked so delicious on her and he hadn't even been the one to cause it, not entirely. He wanted that pleasure, but he wouldn't end her life. Perhaps he would bring her to the brink of death or perhaps he'd let those carnal thoughts guide him elsewhere. He had never given into them before, he wasn't even sure he had ever had them until he saw her. It was maddening not to know what exactly it was about her that had lured him in so completely. Maybe it was how petite she was in comparison to him, Michael did enjoy feeling larger than life. He knew if he was to wrap his hands around her throat they would all but engulf her. His frame pressed against her's could minimize her being so entirely that she would practically disappear from existence within his arms. Or maybe it was the challenge that excited him to the point of discomfort within his coveralls. He would have to exercise restraint like he never had before in order for her to survive being so entangled with him, because in reality he could end her life in seconds if he didn't. Her fate and possible demise would be in his hands the moment they met her skin once more. The entirety of their proverbial 'moon dance' would cascade along that ever thinning line between life and death. He wondered if she had any idea of the fire she was playing with, head canted to the side as he watched her eyes scan the empty garage in search of him once again.

She let out a frustrated sigh and let the door swing shut behind her. She pressed the button for the elevator, just once this time. She intended to waste as much time as humanly possible just in case he appeared. The doors began to separate, filling the room with their high pitched squeaking and she decided to give up on her search for the night. She slipped inside the cabin and reluctantly pressed the button for her floor. She leaned her back against the wall as she watched the doors close in on each other. Before each end could meet, they creaked to a halt. A hand had come between them, it retracted once the doors began to move outward. They were slower than ever as they reopened and she impatiently craned her neck to catch a glimpse of whom she would be sharing the brief ride upwards with, but found no one was there. She furrowed her brows and took a step forward. Before she could look out the doors, she was pushed back against the wall with a hand around her throat. After the initial shock had worn off, she looked up to see the white mask with the blackest holes looking down on her once again. He held her in place as the doors squeaked shut. After he was certain they were closed, he released his grip on her. (Y/n)'s chest heaved up and down as she struggled to catch the breath he'd knocked out of her.

"It's you," she panted.

She wasn't quite sure if it was fear or unbridled excitement she was feeling, but she surmised it was a dangerous, possibly deadly combination of the two that made her quickly reach her hand past him and lock the elevator. She quickly drew her arm back in and pressed herself back against the wall.

Michael slowly turned his head to see what she had done, moderately impressed by the confidence she had just displayed by assuming he wouldn't kill her. He returned his gaze to her and smirked behind his mask when he saw that subtle hint of fear hidden within her eyes. So she wasn't totally confident, but curious enough to trust him. He would have reminded her that it was curiosity that killed the cat, but he wasn't going to grant her the pleasure of hearing his voice, yet. She would have to be the one to end the silence between them if she had the courage to do so.

She had so many questions, but each of them seemed so nonsensical given the fact that he had never uttered a single word to her. She was almost certain he wouldn't answer any of them, but she had to say something. After waiting so long for this moment, it only seemed wrong to waste it.

"Who," she started, but stopped and rethought the first words she wanted to say, "why did you save me from that man? Why did you kill him but not me?"

Michael tilted his head. Would she have preferred he hadn't? It wasn't necessarily that he had saved her, he wasn't even sure that was the right word. Saving her for himself maybe, that would have been a better way to describe it. Someone had merely threatened to take her before he could and Michael wasn't one to share. She would soon learn that, if he hadn't made it clear enough for her before, he was about to. She waited so patiently for a response, her (e/c) eyes seemingly trying to decipher his features behind the mask without physically removing it. Her curiosity made her appear so innocent as she gazed up at him, inadvertently fueling his desire to take that innocence for himself. Though he had to admit, he found it somewhat endearing that she was so entranced by him she didn't even realize the position she could have possibly put herself in, were he not so obsessed with her in his own regard. He brought his hand up to her cheek as he had done before, but this time he let his fingertips explore the softness of her skin. She was truly delicate, he thought to himself as he let them wander down to her lips. She parted them for him. He raised his eyebrows behind his mask as he traced her bottom lip, just barely allowing himself inside her mouth, and felt moisture coat the top of his fingers. He brought his hand up to study his own skin that had been wet by her, the sight of that alone brought an urge to taste her to the surface.

"Who are you?" She asked as she watched his silent observation.

His eyes shot back to her. She had asked that once before, only now he was more willing to oblige her with an answer, to some degree. It was purely based on his own desire, but it might satisfy her questions for the time being. He brought both hands to the back of his mask and slowly peeled the rubber off of himself. He kept his head down and observed what was for the majority of the world his face in his own hands, but for her and only her, he would show himself as he truly was. He knelt down and gently set it aside before towering above her again. As he lifted his head, he told himself he was only doing it because he needed to if he was going to do what he was about to do, that was all. Though even Michael knew there was a part of him that felt she was deserving, even if he couldn't explain why.

(Y/n)'s face started to heat up when she realized the man behind the mask was undoubtedly handsome. He was much younger than she had expected he would be, it seemed he wasn't far off from her age. He had dark curls that framed his near perfectly structured face, the only imperfection being the scar that ran through one of his eyes. His jaw was clenched as though he was somewhat nervous under her gaze, but that subtle movement of his muscles accentuated his prominent jawline further. His brows were knit together in an almost disapproving way over his expressionless eyes, one blue, one milky white and his mouth kept tightly shut as she studied him. Each feature had such a unique and unexplainable draw that she found herself wanting to touch him, to further inspect the ever so silent and stoic man before her. Her hand wandered up, but before she could touch him, he flinched and those disapproving brows furrowed tighter than before. She held her hand in place midair as she watched him contemplate the interaction. He blinked his eyes as he studied her hand, then turned his gaze to meet her's, granting her passage to continue. She slowly reached forward and let her fingertips touch his cheek first, then steadily rested her palm over him to hold the side of his face in her hand. His eyes flickered shut and his brows relaxed at the strange new sensation. She was warm against his cool skin and he found himself resting in her touch, his head fell slightly to the side to give in further. She watched, fascinated by the way he seemed to relish in the minimal contact as if he had been starved a lifetime for it. He finally opened his eyes and took her hand in his to bring it to his lips. He didn't kiss her fingers, he simply brushed them over his skin, unsure of what exactly it was he wanted to do. Her skin was so soft.

"Won't you tell me your name?" She said softly.

Needy, he thought to himself as he began to kiss her fingers. He told himself he'd only tell her so he could hear how it sounded coming from her mouth.

"Michael," he whispered back.

"Michael," she repeated gently.

It sounded better than he'd expected in her breathy, distracted tone and it fanned those flames she'd lit within him further. Her fingers were no longer satisfying him, he needed to explore her further. He wanted her to say his name again against his lips. He dropped her hand and reached both of his forward to cup her face as he pressed his body against her's and engulfed her lips in a kiss so hungry it made her knees weak. As she melted into it she couldn't help but notice the desperation he had for her pressed up against the top of her thigh. She wasn't sure how much he would allow her to do, but as if he had read her mind, he took her arms and draped them over his shoulders in one swift movement before his hands returned to her face. She took some liberty and tangled her fingers in the curls that hung just above the back of his neck. As she tugged on his hair, Michael pressed harder against her and paid no mind to the moan that escaped his lips. He had been absolutely right, restraining himself was going to be a challenge, one more difficult than he'd expected. He wanted so badly to hear her say his name again, but this time he wanted her to cry it out. He needed to regain some control, because she had more than he realized she would with the way her fingers sent chills down his spine every time she pulled on his locks. Then she shifted against him, rubbing him so that it made him ache in such a devastatingly good way. His hand instinctively flew to her throat and wrapped itself around it in a tight embrace. She let out a gasp and he smirked against her kiss, it was the power shift he needed to know he was still in control no matter what she did or what he wanted her to do to him. He broke away from her, hand still tightly wound around her neck to keep her in place against the wall. He watched a smiled spread across her face as he struggled to catch his uneven breath. He wasn't sure what he liked more, to see her frightened or to see her look so proud of what she was doing to him. Her pride reignited that challenge he so adored, it made him want to force her to unravel, to bring her to the brink of death, but in a different way. He would make her beg for mercy and after he was done with her, she would beg for more. A smile of his own spread across his face as he reached his free hand into his pocket to retrieve his knife. When he revealed it to her he delighted in the way her smile fell and fear flickered in her eyes. He brought it down to the bottom of her dress and removed his hand from her throat to pull the material taut before he took the blade and sliced the fabric upwards. The sound of it ripping bounced off of the elevator's walls and combined with her accelerated breath, Michael was entranced. He finally reached the top and let the knife continue it's ascent upwards until the blade rested underneath her chin. She craned her neck up with it and looked at him with that same hint of excitement he'd seen in her when he first entered. She watched his grip tighten on the knife's handle until his knuckles turned pale as if he was fighting the urge to plunge it into her. She hesitantly brought her hands up to his and guided the knife to the side of her neck. If he was going to kill her he would have by now and by this point she was just as eager as he was to continue this dance, so her next words came perhaps a little too easy.

"I trust you, Michael," she breathed as she guided his knife down the side of her neck.

His was captivated by the sight of her blood dripping out from under his blade and down to her shoulder. His pupils became overblown as his desire reached its boiling point. He cast the knife aside and grabbed her by her shoulders to flip her around. He ripped her dress from her body and quickly did away with the rest of the cloth so that no part of her was hidden. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulled her back against him and craned her neck back so he could drag his tongue up towards the cut she had allowed him to give her. He collected her blood in his mouth then focused his attention on the wound, sucking with such brutality she could already feel the bruise he would leave forming under his lips. Once he had cleaned her with his tongue, he pushed her forward so that her cheek was pressed against the wall. The sound of his zipper being pulled down filled her ears and in turn, filled her with such a buzzing excitement she could barely wait the few seconds it took for him to free himself. Finally, she felt him line himself up at her entrance and without warning, he invaded her with one firm thrust that shook her to her core. Pain intermingled with a burning and intense pleasure unlike any she had felt before. He hung his head over her shoulder and the sound of his uneven breath filled her ear as he began to set a brutal and unforgiving pace. She struggled to keep her balance as he rocked into her and he seemed to take note. He wrapped an arm around her and rested his other hand against the wall, steadying the both of them as he continued his pursuit to leave her in shambles. At the same time, he himself was overwhelmed by the pleasure her tightly wound body was granting him. Sensations crept upwards from where their bodies met and into his core, tangling together inside of him like knots on the verge of snapping. His hand against the wall balled into a fist, tightening in tandem with those knots as he pushed himself inside of her with more force than before. Her head fell back against him and a cry ripped from her throat, along with a slew of praises. It was then he got what he wanted.

"Michael," she cried out as her face contorted into an expression that could only be described as pained bliss.

He was almost too much for her to take, his size combined with the intensity of his movements made her burn in a way she hadn't before. That searing sensation made her shake in his grip as he pummeled the sweet spot nestled deep inside of her. She desperately needed something to cling to as she neared the edge. She wasn't sure her legs would hold. Her hand flew back in search of his shoulder, but she barely had a sense of direction at that point.

"Michael," she keened once more as she clutched at the blue cloth of his coveralls tightly.

Without warning, he ceased his movements and removed himself from her, causing her to whine from the sudden empty feeling he'd so cruelly left her with. He flipped her around and swiftly hoisted her up so her legs could wrap around his waist. He lowered her back onto him and once he was certain she wouldn't fall, he let his hands find the back of her head so he could force her lips to his again. His fingers tangled in her hair as he attempted to keep her lips on his, but at the pace he was going, it was anything but neat. Still, she returned his sloppy kisses with the utmost enthusiasm as she felt herself approaching her climax. She reached behind her head and guided his hand in between their bodies to a spot he hadn't yet discovered. She placed his calloused fingers over her clit and guided them in little circles. It didn't take long for him to get the hang of it, but still, he followed her lead. With each circle their fingers drew together he could feel her body tightening around him more so than he thought possible. Before long, she broke their kiss and he watched her head fall back, mouth agape as her body fluttered around him. Somewhere between the way she looked, the sound of his name falling from her lips like a prayer and the trembling of her body around his, Michael came completely and utterly undone. His head fell into the crevice between her shoulder and neck as his body all but collapsed into her. It was a concerted effort to maintain his hold on her, but he did and he made sure his grip was tight around her thighs.

"(Y/n)," she heard him breath into her ear before he spilled into her.

She didn't even stop to think about the fact that she hadn't once told him her name, all she could focus on was the way his breath felt on her skin, the burn of fresh bruises on her thighs and how wonderful it felt to have been undeniably marked by him. Michael would never admit it out loud, but in a way, she had claimed him for her own as well. Though his movements had ceased, he didn't want to leave her warmth. He breathed in her scent and pressed his lips to her shoulder as she draped her arms around his neck. There was no doubt she was in shambles, just as he had intended, but he feared he was in a far worse state than he had been in before. When he lifted his head up to look at her once more, that only worsened it. Her face was flushed, her hair disheveled and her eyes were glassy as she smiled lazily at him. He felt his chest tighten in a strange way as she leaned in to press a chaste kiss to his lips, gentle as rain. Obsessed was now an understatement.