#further proof that michael is a thot

[meat-husband]

You know you gotta elaborate on that dick pic hc right like pls don’t tease me like that 🅱️ls

Well, since you said 🅱️ls...

Nothing too graphic, so no cut, but there’s still dicks going on lol

You felt like a piece of shit.

Your best friend, a kind, amazing girl you had known since you were a child, had done a lot for you over the years. She was only concerned, you knew, and you couldn’t blame her, but she had gone through a lot of trouble for you and you couldn’t even appreciate her efforts fully.

Standing awkwardly in the corner of the crowded room, you fiddled with the hem of the skirt you wore, tugging it down self consciously. It wasn’t all that short, really, but it felt like it. A Halloween party was the last place you wanted to be right now, let alone in a cheap, plasticy outfit hilariously labeled ‘sexy psycho’. It was a poor excuse for a costume, an uncomfortably tight skirt and half sized button up in bright orange, complete with fake bloodstains and a little rubber knife. You had dropped the knife almost immediately upon entering the party, but now you held your phone in one hand and a watered down drink in the other, texting rapidly with half an eye on the screen.

You didn’t want to be here, but you did want to be a good friend, for all that was worth, and she had insisted on your attendance, paying for your ticket herself, getting you into an exclusive party and not taking no for an answer. This whole event was agreed to under the pretense of ‘spending time together’, but it quickly became apparent that your friend was more concerned with who else you were spending your time with.

“Hey, he’s cute,” she yelled over the music, poking you in the ribs to draw your attention away from your phone. “Go talk to him, he’s looking at you.”

“Who?” You ask, still firing off a message as quickly as you can while typing with only your thumb.

“The guy in the big, feathery hat thing. Look, right there.”

“Uh-huh, gimme a second.”

“Who are you texting?” She sounded a little pissed, which wasn’t unreasonable considering the price she had paid to get your unsocial ass in here. She leans over your shoulder, trying to get a look at your screen, so you quickly turn it off, tucking it down the front of your ridiculously orange top.

“No one,” you say with a strained smile. “Now what hat did you want me to see?”

She frowns at you, eyeing the place where you hid your phone suspiciously. “You’re acting weird. You said you aren’t dating anyone, I thought you’d appreciate a night out. I mean, it’s been a while.” She gives you another rough nudge and a wink and you laugh nervously in response.

There wasn’t a good way to tell someone who cared about you that you had pretty much moved a serial killer into your apartment and weren’t really on the market anymore. That kind of thing tends to create worry and questions, neither of which you need anymore of.

Your phone buzzes loudly from beneath your shirt and she watches you for a moment, daring you with a glare to respond. You fidget in place, wanting to reach for it but you can’t have her seeing what’s on the screen either. You already know what the message contains, and that would probably be just as hard to explain as anything else she’s wondering about you right now.

“Alright, I’m going to get another drink and check in to see if that shitty emo band is through yet, then you’re going to enjoy this damn party if I have to make you. Get all that texting shit out of your system while I’m gone.”

You wait until you see her disappear into the crowd before finally digging your phone out of your bra, unlocking the screen to open your messages.

Yep, just like you thought.

Fuck off or that shits going on the internet, you type, message popping up under a horribly composed dick pic. Obviously he was taking these one handed, but that was no excuse for poor quality. Two more blurry pictures pop up before you can type anything else and you roll your eyes. You regretted making the joke that had started this trend of his, knowing you brought it on yourself by introducing him to it.

It’s Halloween shouldn’t you be off murdering ppl or something

You tuck your phone away again after that, taking a few sips from your drink and trying to stop a grin from spreading over your face when it buzzed rapidly with multiple new messages. It was really hilarious how easy it was to get under his skin sometimes. There were quite a few awful costumes imitating the dreaded ‘Shape’ walking around the party, and you had been quick to snap a photo of the worst one you could find.

Found a new boyfriend lol, was all you had said, along with the snap of the person wearing the misshapen mask. It was amazingly low quality, all cheap rubber and crazy, unstyled hair that was entirely the wrong color, but apparently it was still enough to set him off.

You see no sign of your friend returning yet, so you sneak another look at your phone when you realize it’s been a few minutes since the last one. Half a dozen more pictures, each looking more and more frantic and desperate, greet you once you click on your messages, but it’s the most recent one that catches your eye.

“Oh great,” you mutter under your breath, finger hovering over the screen. “He’s figured out how to take videos.”

Glancing around you can see that you’re nice and alone in your corner, but you bite your lip nervously. You can’t say you don’t want to see the video, because you can feel your stomach clenching at the thought of it, but it’s one thing to sneak peeks at pictures and another to play a video. You wait a bit, but decide that you can’t just not watch it. Another look around confirms you’re as alone as you can be with this many people in a room, so you hurry to slide down the volume, just in case, and press play.

You were right when you guessed the previous pictures looked desperate, watching him buck hurriedly into the tight grip of his hand, cock swollen and pink. His movements quickly turn jerky and rough, and you desperately want to inch up the volume to see if you can hear any groans or hisses as cum spills over his fingers. The video is only a few seconds long, just enough to make you frustrated when it ends, and you huff to yourself. This was supposed to be annoying for him, not you.

“Woah, who’s dick is that?” You turn with a scream, drowned out by the music, nearly dropping your phone.

“No wonder you were so interested in your phone, you freak.” Her tone is teasing and friendly, almost congratulatory, a big grin on her face, but you feel your face turn hot and red under her gaze.

“You weren’t supposed to see that!”

“Well, no duh, or they’d be sending that shit to me. Feel free to pass that dude my number, though.”

You don’t think you can be any more embarrassed, but your wish is granted almost immediately when your phone dings again. You lock eyes with your friend, seeing her grin widen, and you go to put your phone away before she can ask.

“Aw, c’mon, let’s see how the movie ends,” she laughs, tugging at the sleeve of your shirt playfully. “I gotta know what happens!”

“You’re so embarrassing!” You complain, pulling away.

“No, really, I wanna see round two!”

“Oh my god! You’re shameless!”

“Hey, I ain’t the one getting hit up with homemade porn here!”

Your phone buzzes again, drawing another laugh from your friend, who seems to be genuinely delighted by how embarrassed you are.

“Go on and look, I ain’t judging you. Tell him to knock it off though, I paid good money for your ticket so you’re getting drunk tonight if nothing else!”

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” You murmur, slinking off with your friend giving you a knowing grin and wink as you rush towards the nearest door.

It’s not a bathroom, just the entrance to a small hallway meant for staff members, but you’ll take what you can get right now. You sit your unfinished drink on the floor, sure that your weak nerves don’t need anymore alcohol after that. Your face is uncomfortably hot and you can feel sweat running down your back as you lean against the wall, grasping your phone in one hand but not yet looking at the screen.

Okay, things were a little out of hand here, and now you had to explain away the person sending you graphic videos and dick pics to your best friend, but it was salvageable. You could fix it! Getting naughty texts from someone doesn’t mean you’re expected to introduce them to your family or anything, you can play it off as a one time thing. No one needs to know about the serial killer in your apartment.

With a few calming breaths you finally open your phone. You feel better now, realizing how insignificant the slip up was, but that comes crashing down as you see the three new photos you’ve been sent, each one a blurry and poorly lit shot of you from just moments before, taken from a distance and slowly moving closer. Well, okay, this was honestly something you should have seen coming considering the fact that he’s snuck up on you like this before, but never somewhere so crowded or public.

And what if he killed someone? It was Halloween after all, and that was his whole thing, and while you were a little less concerned for random club goers, your best friend was out there, not knowing any of this. You went back into the packed club in a rush, swinging open the door and running straight into a solid chest.

“Oh, hi.”

Michael looks down at you from behind the mask and you just know you look flustered and guilty. You glance around nervously, concerned that he might draw attention, but he isn’t very out of place at a costume party, much less one where there are multiple other ‘Michaels’ running around.

“So, uh, just so you know, the whole murdering thing is off limits right now,” you hiss, grabbing a handful of his sleeve and pulling him behind you, heading away from where you had last seen your friend. “Nothing personal, but I just can’t have that shit happening right now.”

You find a secluded spot by the actual entrance to the bathrooms, ushering him into the bit of cover provided by a merchandise stand that had yet to be filled out.

“What are you doing in here?” You whisper, far enough away from the music that it won’t cover your voice. “Those tickets are pricey, how did you get in?”

He looks down and you follow his gaze to the very real and very bloody knife in his hands. You yelp, grabbing his wrist and pulling it between the two of you to hide the weapon.

“You can’t have that in here! And no more stabbing,” you stop, and reconsider your words. “Or anything else fatal.” You amend, giving him a firm glare that you’re sure won’t stop him at all if that’s what he wants to do.

“Yo, am I interrupting you guys? Cause I kinda hope I am!”

You look around Michael with wide eyes to see your friend standing there, a big smirk on her face and a drink in each hand. You realize with a pang of horror how things must look from her view point, a big man standing over you in a dark corner, your hands hidden between your bodies-

“No, you’re not interrupting!” You nearly scream the words in your panic, wrenching the knife from Michael’s hand and dropping it carefully behind the merch table. He lets you take the weapon, turning as you do to face your friend, who’s smile widens at the sight of his ‘costume’.

“Holy shit, great get up dude, that’s the best mask I’ve seen all night!” She looks him up and down, presumably to take in the rest of his attire, but you know her well enough to realize she’s probably gearing up a flirty one liner. “So, you two know each other then?”

You’re a little thrown off, not sure what excuse you can come up with on the spot for her question, but Michael beats you to it.

“Boyfriend.” He rasps, and you’re not sure whether his voice or his answer throws you off more. You look at him in awe, mouth open in surprise. Your friend looks stunned as well, but for a different reason.

“Ohh, really,” She says, giving you a sly look. “So is he…?”

She makes a crude pumping motion with her hand and you’re absolutely sure that if it was possible to die of embarrassment that this would be the finishing blow. Michael watches her hand, and when she looks to you both for confirmation he gives her a slow nod. She cackles loudly, clapping her hands together in glee.

“Oh, why didn’t you tell me you were dating someone?! He’s hilarious, too!” She passes one of her drinks to you to free up a hand, waving it around in her excitement. “Where have you been hiding him, girl? What’s your name?”

The last one is directed at Michael, and you give him a moment to see if he’ll speak again, but apparently that was a one time deal because he remains silent. You speak up before the silence turns awkward, an evil little smile on your face.

Grabbing his wrist with your hand, you lean against his arm and answer, “His name’s Audrey.”