Hold Me Down (Michael Myers x Reader)(ON HOLD)

• 𝙵𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 •

Smut chapter, solo action Mikey ;)

Takes place after chapter 22, ppl who saw my update

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Michael watched as Y/n fell asleep, tilting his head. He looked at Y/ns back as it slowly shifted. Melting into the mattress comfortably as she drifted into a deep sleep.

He walked around her, placing his heavy footsteps carefully and strategically one place to the next as to not make the floor boards creak. Risking waking her. Her lips parted as they let out soft breaths. His heartbeat picked up its pace. She looked so angelic, despite the drool coming out of her mouth. Her hair a mess.

But...those innocent thoughts slowly started to shift.

His eyes began to wander. Slowly making their way down to her chest as it moved in and out. His gaze fell to her waist and hips. Remembering how his hands were on them the other day. Squeezing them. Her whimpers echoing in his mind. His fists clenched at the thought. He couldn't be in the same room with her right now. He silently moved out of the room before going elsewhere downstairs.

There he could be content with his thoughts...he hoped.

His hands gripped the door way to the kitchen. Almost so that it could splinter in his grip. His breathing picked up. His shoulders rose and fell almost uncontrollably. There it was. The tightness between his legs, poking out of his boiler suit. He almost groaned, feeling the fabric rub against it.

He was no stranger to these things. As he'd get them occasionally when murdering people. But this. He actually felt such a strong urge for her. To have Y/n as his.
He knew what sex was. Albeit not to his choice. His sister Judith screwing her boyfriend loudly as he tried to sleep. Overhearing the older boys at school talk. His mom...which he wouldn't want to think about anyways.

Pinning her against the wall, against the mattress, on the ground, sitting on the counter. Anywhere at this point. Fuck...he wanted her carnally.

His imagination ran wild.
He'd slide his hand down to her hips, his thigh in-between her own. Pressing her down harder. Her whimpering and panting, grabbing his boiler suit as she grinded against his leg.
Michael held his masked face in his hand. Hearing his own breaths strangle out of him as his body tensed. His hard-on growing more impatient.

What did her lips taste like? He thought about about kissing his, her arms wrapped around his neck as they pressed their mouths against eachother. Him caging her head in with his arms so she would only look at him. Kissing her swollen lips and not letting her go.

He wanted to feel her around him, adjusting to his size as he thought about her facial expressions. Twisting as he would slowly grind into her for the first time. What noises would she make? Would she whimper? Whine? Moan? Gasp? Any of those would drive him crazy. He was afraid of hurting you with his size, but part of him wanted to see her wince as she tried to take him.

His boner was starting to hurt. The friction of the suit teasing him as his hips slightly bucked. Making it poke into the suit more, starting to like the feeling. He didn't want to use his hands, his reasons being scattered.

The size difference between her and him was a thing on his mind at the moment. He towered over Y/n , and he liked to imagine himself dominating her with his size alone. Her beneath him, her butt resting on his thighs while he'd use his body to keep her in place. Her eyes looking at him while he'd move in and out of her. His hands on her waist to make her match the rhythm of his thrusts. Her breasts moving with each one.

Michael loved her breasts. He wanted to hold them. Squeeze and pinch them while he'd think of her squirming. They were perfect for him, and only him. He imagined his fingers caressing every bump, freckle, mark, whatever features they had. He'd love all of it. His mouth would clamp over one while he fondled another.

His hips began to move on their own, his hardness rubbing against cloth. His exhales getting heavier as his eyes shut. Holding back his voice as best he could. His cock was too sensitive at this point. Anything would feel good if he rubbed it against something. Michael felt something build within him. A need to release. He had never felt the need to do so before.

He wondered what got her off. What made her experience things like him at this second. Did she like things more sensual or rough? Possibly both?
Did she like to think about scenarios while working herself to her climax?
He finally grunted slightly. He started to feel more possesive. No. He wanted her to only think about him, only him. Only his touch, his body, his cock pounding into her.
Only his, only his, she is his.

He pulled his mask up to his nose to make it easier to huff as he jacked off into his suit.

He would definitely have to mark her. Bite her on her sweet sweet neck while inhaling her scent. Bite her on her thighs, her hips, her chest. Maybe...just maybe, he'd mark her with his knife if she'd let him.
His head tossed back at that idea. Letting out another soft grunt again. He didn't like being vocal. Infact he hated it. But this sensation made him spiral. His head resting on the door frame as it started to crack under his grip. His hips continuing to move as his release grew closer.

Michael thought more about what coming inside her felt like. He imaged he'd do it as many times as he could. Fucking her until he was satisfied, or atleast until she was. Until she couldn't speak, until her legs were shaking, until the world had ended.

He had so much pent up emotions, and the abstinence in the ward didn't help one bit. He didn't even remember what orgasming felt like. But he was about to experience it- finally after so long he had Y/n to thank for this.

His tip and shaft felt slightly raw because of the chafing. He needed more. His fingers pulled on the folds near his crotch so it would tighten around his cock. The contact making his eyes blur as he leaned his side against the frame to hold himself.
He was almost there.

Any and all thoughts of Y/n drove him closer to the edge. He would do anything to make her whimper like that again. He wanted her riding him while he rutted into her, watching her bounce up and down while she pleased herself on him. If she wanted it he'd give it, not questions asked. Fucking her, pleasing her anywhere she wants was now all on his mind.
That knot within him was close to bursting.

He wanted to hear her praise him and beg him to not stop. Tell him how good he was. Her voice so tender and gentle after he finished for her. Anything to make her happy. Anything to make her only think of him and him alone. His name being the only thing she can cry out.

His hips moved harder against his suit. His teeth grinding together. He was there. He could feel it. His hands making the wood crack as he choked out a rough and struggled grunt. This time a little louder. His fingers squeezing his shaft as he came. Instant bliss washed over him as he heaved. His breaths haggard as his muscles twitched. Feeling the crotch area grow damp as his seed spilled out.

Michael took a moment to compose himself before looking down at his suit. Noticing the stain left near the abdomen area. He huffed and pulled his mask down over his mouth again before unzipping his suit. Luckily it hadn't gotten on his black shirt which wasn't easy to take off because of his shoulders.

He pushed the sleeves off of his arms and tied them around his pelvis. He'd have to go to find the right moment to wash his suit in the sink. Because the killer didn't exactly know how he was going to ask Y/n to wash it for him.

Y/n. Her name never leaving his mind for the rest of the night. Y/n, a blessing to him. A blessing that would only belong to him, no matter what.