Rock Bottom Ch 6: Rock Hard
3.1k | Corey x Y/N, Corey x Y/N x Michael x Corey x Y/N | NSFW
Summary: They just can't help themselves 🥵
She turns off the flashlight and slowly holsters it along with her gun. She takes a deep breath, mesmerized by Corey's disheveled, aroused state.
Rock Bottom Index - All Chapters
Check out the art by @cordelium from Ch 5. commissions please don't repost their work without permission.
@ethanhoewke @kuromi2005 @rebel-blue @wolvesandvampires
18+ MDNI
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Corey watches (Y/N) survey the scene and prays she arrived alone.
Seeing her in uniform takes him back to 2019 when she felt him up at the courthouse. Corey now suspects that before she met Michael, she didn't desperately crave criminal cock. He wonders if she was miserable like him or had a good life. He wonders what her first time with Michael was like. He can still taste Michael's cock in his mouth, and his jaw is pleasantly sore.
Her flashlight illuminates Dr. Mathis on the ground. She kicks him to make sure he's dead - probably not Sheriff's Office protocol. She bends down and puts her fingers on the doctor's pulse through the dry-cleaning bag. Corey quietly stands up, but stays doubled over, holding his bloody hand and pressing his wrist into his stiff, aching shaft.
She's still looking at the doctor, inspecting the scene curiously. Her hand goes to her radio.
"He was a bad guy," Corey interrupts. His voice is even lower and more gravely than usual.
She stands and whips around toward him. "Cunningham, is that you?" Her light shines on him.
She touches her radio and says, "False alarm." It beeps. She comes closer and starts to ask, "What are you-" when she looks through the glass sliding door to the bedroom and sees Deb, the nurse, pinned to the wall.
Her eyes widen and she steps closer to the sliding door. "He was here." She turns to face Corey more directly. He raises an arm to shield his eyes from the light and she lowers it. The light falls down his blue sweater and lands on his unbuttoned pants. Her eyebrows shoot up, intrigued.
She turns off the flashlight and slowly holsters it along with her gun. She takes a deep breath, mesmerized by Corey's disheveled, aroused state. The look on her face says his cock is the only thing in the world that matters right now. He follows her gaze to the swell in his briefs peeking out from his unbuttoned pants.
She approaches and stands right up against him. He doesn't budge. She grabs his ass. Her uniform pants glide smoothly against his engorged briefs while her belt digs into his hip bones. Corey begins to breathe heavier. Before he knows it, his hands are unbuttoning her uniform top. And she lets him. No hesitation this time.
Corey pauses and meets her eyes. "Yeah, he was here," he tells her. "And you don't know Michael as well as you think."
"Why's that," she asks quietly in his ear, uninterested. She pulls him against her and grinds into him. He swells harder and she exhales with a soft moan.
"I sucked his cock," Corey says.
She laughs into his neck and her breath is warm on his skin. Corey sniffs.
She pulls back to look at him, and her smile fades when she sees his watery eyes.
"Holy shit." For a moment, she looks like she's seen a ghost, but one she'd like to fuck.
"Yeah," Corey says. "It was. . ." His lip trembles.
"Yeah," she says softly, looking into his eyes.
She looks at him warmly and touches his cheek. There's a hint of sympathy but mostly wonder. She closes her eyes and kisses his lips. When she looks at him again, her eyes are wild. She licks her lips and takes a deep breath. She walks Corey up against the glass door.
She breathes heavily, looks back and forth between his eyes, cradles his head with one hand, and kisses him desperately, like she wants to suck something out of him.
She reaches into his briefs.
"God," she says half into his mouth when she feels his naked girth.
He thrusts into her hand. He's still painfully hard and her soft skin feels so good. She pulls his cock out and steps back enough to marvel at it, then lowers herself to her knees. She admires it head on then wraps her lips around it. She takes it halfway into her mouth and sucks. A pang of pleasure shoots through his gut. After only a moment, she stops to lustily admire it again. She licks it up and down and massages it slowly in her hand as it weeps. She sucks up his pre-cum and starts to take him into her mouth again, then stops.
"No," she says, her brow furrowing as she thumbs the swollen head. "I need you inside me."
Corey inhales deeply.
Her face is flushed and her chest heaves under her unbuttoned uniform. "Right now," she says to his cock, then looks up at Corey before standing. She grabs a tool from her belt and pries open the glass door. She holds it open for Corey and unbuckles her belt with the other hand.
Corey undresses then sits at the foot of the bed, massive erection throbbing in one hand against his abdomen.
Her cheeks grow even rosier as she admires the pool of blood under Michael's artwork while pulling off her boots. She puts the gun on the bed and lets the weight of her belt and holster send her pants to the floor with a thud. She takes the radio off, turns it down, and throws it in the pile.
She walks up between Corey's knees. He lets go of his cock and she grabs it while he pulls down her soaked underwear, then feels her with his thick fingers.
Corey wants her so bad his face hurts, but he feels guilty about last time. "Are you sure?" He asks.
"God, yes," she says, and the breath in her voice leaves no doubt that she means it.
She spreads her knees wide to straddle Corey’s broad frame on the bed. "You're right. I guess I don't know him."
Corey swallows.
"He wants you alive," she adds.
She grabs his cock and massages her clit with it, breathing heavily.
"You really sucked him off," she says, shaking her head. "That's so fucking hot." She looks like she means it.
She positions his swollen tip for entry. Corey's brow furrows. He wets his lips as his large hands knead her hips.
"Are you sure?" She asks.
Between heavy breaths, he manages to say, "I'd die happy."
Her wet heat begins to engulf the head of his cock. He groans and pulls her hips down.
Her tight cunt sinks onto him and she gasps as her insides make way for his girth. Corey thrusts his hips up and she moans. She feels so hot, so wet, so snug. He can feel every ridge of her walls. She begins to rise up and he pulls her down harder. His breath hitches as he bottoms out. They grind their hips in rhythm.
Red and blue lights flash in the fog outside and Corey's heart jumps into his throat. He freezes and his large hands force her still on his cock.
"Is back-up coming?" He asks her.
She doesn't even look. Her eyes are barely open. "We're good, just fuck me," she begs, rolling her hips into him.
Corey wants nothing more than to do just that, but lights are definitely flashing outside.
"A car's here," he insists. She turns to look but the light cuts off before she can see it.
She sighs and reaches for the gun. "Leave the look-out to me, okay? Fuck me, then we’ll get out of here."
She rises halfway up his cock then sinks back down with a moan and starts rolling into him again. She puts her wrists behind his head, holding the gun in one hand and fingering his curls with the other as she rides him. Corey lets her, but he's hesitant. Law enforcement is definitely on the property.
"Fuck me like you mean it," she demands. She takes his chin in her hand. "Now." She's not asking.
She pauses to rip off her undershirt and bra. Then she starts moving her hips again, her eyes drifting from the window to the artwork. She takes a deep breath and begins riding him full-throttle, moaning.
It feels too good. Corey closes his eyes and they kiss sloppily – So much for the look-out. He kneads her asscheeks and already feels like he could come any second.
A noise outside startles him.
"It's nothing," she says, incapable of caring about anything but his cock inside her. She keeps riding him. A rush of pleasure shoots from his balls, through his chest, to his throat. His ass clenches and he erupts inside her, his strong arms wrapping around her back. He buries his mouth in her neck to keep from making noise. She moans quietly with each pulse of his enormous load. When his balls are empty, Corey slows to a halt. Any other time, he'd be committed to making her come.
"No, no, no, PLEASE don't stop," she begs. She's practically crying.
Corey feels bad. She's already such a hot mess, how long could it possibly take her to come? What's more, if he's honest with himself, he feels so much safer with her walls around his cock, even in this hazardous situation. He hopes she'll finish quickly.
"Yeah," he pants. "Just a sec." Her hips move and his large hands still her.
She twitches around him and he groans from the overstimulation, but a loud crash cuts him off. Corey reflexively tightens his arms around her. They sit frozen on the bed.
There's a scuffle, a man groans, and something clatters to the ground.
Corey starts to whisper, “should we-”
"Shhh. Don't move," she says.
They stay perfectly still for what feels like five minutes. His cock twitches inside her and her nipples harden against his pecs.
They hear footsteps. She lets Corey's cock slide out and slowly leans back to peer across the room. His hands on her hips keep her from falling off him. The blood rushes to his pounding heart and head. Both of them stay frozen, looking toward the sound.
-
The footsteps resume and get closer, heavier.
A shadow appears.
Then a shape.
It's Michael Myers.
***
Michael enters the room with a knife in one hand and something else in the other. He stops to observe the scene, sniffing the air like an animal. Corey should be afraid, but he feels a rush of life and arousal.
Michael approaches the bed from the side, with Corey and (Y/N) both frozen on the foot of the bed, breathing heavily. She's still straddling Corey.
Michael observes them like one of his art installations, then tosses two Sheriff's Office badges onto the bed next to them. Michael stares at the badges, then at them, as though to say, "you're welcome."
His boots thud as he slowly steps to the foot of the bed to stand in front of them. She begins to dismount Corey, but Michael stops her with the flat of his knife on the nape of her neck. Her nipples pucker. Corey keeps his arms around her and watches Michael. There's a prominent bulge in Michael’s suit.
Michael breathes deeply and slowly. He begins to unzip his own jumpsuit. She hears the zipper and looks at Corey with her eyes wide. Corey’s cock rapidly hardens against her clit, and her eyes close with a gasp. Corey can’t tell if she’s scared or excited until she rubs herself against Corey's cock. She’s so warm and slick. Even wetter than before.
Corey swells back to full mast with a shudder. He doesn’t dare move. He glues his eyes to Michael's unzipped uniform. Michael’s breath gets louder and his monster cock falls out. It almost seems to glisten.
-
Corey is still sitting there with (Y/N) straddling his lap. Michael steps forward and spreads his feet to either side of Corey’s, looming over them. Michael’s large hand on her back pushes both of them down. Corey lies flat while she hugs him with all fours.
Michael huffs, bends his knees, and his hand presses down on the small of her back. He lets his cock fall between her legs and graze Corey’s balls, sending a shockwave through Corey. Michael slickens himself with their combined mess, then aligns himself, holds her down, and plunges into her ass.
Her eyes go wide, her mouth falls open, and she grunts as she’s propelled forward, wetly dragging up Corey’s shaft. She reaches down and nestles Corey's tip in her front door and he gasps.
Michael retreats slightly, then he pulls her back hard onto both of them and she groans. Her cunt is so tight on Corey’s cock with Michael in her ass. Through her thin membrane, Corey feels Michael's every groove and vein right up against his own. It's unlike anything he's ever felt before or even knew he could feel. He rests his hands on her back and gazes into the holes of the mask, taking it all in.
Michael puts his hands down on the bed. He pulls back, then thrusts into her harder, and Corey feels every inch of his monster cock push by. Michael hovers over them, his mask making eye contact with Corey. Corey starts fucking her warm, wet cunt in sync with Michael's rhythm. Corey pulls back while Michael pushes in.
Their bodies drift back toward the headboard. The mattress sinks under Michael’s weight as he kneels on the bed, straddling Corey’s legs, and they keep fucking. With every thrust into her, Michael’s cock firmly strokes Corey’s, and every time, a pang of pleasure shoots through Corey’s ass.
Corey thought his wildest dream was to fuck Michael, but he never could have imagined the intimacy of this moment, feeling the rock-hard silhouette of Michael's cock drag against his own, hot and wet, their balls meeting, the mask gazing down at him.
Their three bodies blur together in synchronicity. Corey grunts and Michael breathes. She groans and wails as she’s fucked by both killers at the same time. They continue pounding her, their shafts sliding against each other through her thin wall.
Michael audibly grunts, making Corey’s balls jerk. Corey doesn’t want to finish yet, but the next time the shape drags against him, it’s too late. Corey pulsates powerfully as he comes. Michael keeps fucking her, rubbing against Corey's cock, slapping into his slowly emptying balls. Corey groans at the overstimulation.
Her walls contract and she moans into Corey's neck. Michael doesn’t let up. The rhythm of his hard, veiny length keeps Corey coming longer than he ever has. Corey groans loudly and she wails. They sound like wild animals as they come together while Michael remains relentless.
Corey tries to kiss her but Michael grabs both her wrists, pulling her chest up and away. He holds her arms out. Her breasts quake as she finishes coming. Then, her head bows in exhaustion and she silently cries, tears falling onto Corey. She and Michael look like an obscene crucifix. As her convulsions fade, he lets her collapse onto Corey.
Michael pulls out, still absurdly erect, but Corey stays inside her. Safe, comfortable, protected.
***
Corey is just beginning to catch his breath when his legs are forced open by Michael kneeling between them. His whole body erupts in goosebumps. Michael drags his cock through the frothy blend trickling down Corey's balls, then his wet tip probes Corey’s entrance. Corey is instantly rock hard again inside (Y/N). She whimpers and stays wrapped around Corey’s body, enrobing his hard cock. Michael’s arms wrap around Corey’s thighs.
Michael yanks Corey back on his wet cock, breaching the tight, virgin ring of muscle. Corey hears his own groan echo through the house before he can fully process that this is really happening. Michael plunges into him again. When the swollen tip hits Corey’s prostate, Corey feels like God is physically touching his soul. His eyes sting with tears.
Michael's powerful thrusts into Corey propel (Y/N) up Corey’s cock, then she sinks back down as Michael retreats. The three of them move as one machine with Michael as the engine. Corey feels something building deep inside him.
She moans into Corey's neck and the flat of her teeth press into his skin as Michael’s rhythm bounces her on Corey’s cock. Corey’s prostate throbs harder and harder. He's never been this hard, and he can hear it in her whimpers.
Her tight, wet cunt massages his cock while Michael destroys his hole and rearranges his insides. Michael shows no signs of fatigue. The pressure builds more and more and Corey savors every second.
Something explodes deep within Corey, sending several pulsing waves through his body before his cock erupts again. He groans as the most intense rush overwhelms him and he pulsates enormously inside her. She cries out and contracts around him. She bites his neck and moans into him.
Michael twitches inside Corey and inhales sharply. Michael grunts, then softly groans as his cock pumps violently into Corey, and Corey keeps coming.
There’s a whole galaxy flowing between them, with Michael’s unfathomable load emptying into Corey and Corey’s into her. Michael stays still and quiet as he finishes, while she and Corey writhe and moan into each other.
Michael pulls out and drops Corey’s legs, then zips up. He stands by the bed and picks up his knife, gripping the handle, blade-down. For a moment, Corey thinks this might be the end of his life. But Michael observes them for a few seconds, then walks out.
***
Corey quietly sobs. A week ago, he had nothing and no idea what he wanted. He was too tired to dare to dream. Michael plucked him from the edge of death and gave him new life, purpose, and want. And now he's made Corey's dreams come true, and more.
Corey is euphoric. Life makes sense. He's struck by the interconnectedness of everything and everyone and every little moment. For the first time, he's glad Jeremy Allen died that night. He's glad he was bullied and tormented for three years. He's happy to be the psycho. He's proud to be Haddonfield's other Boogeyman. Because all of that brought him to this moment right here.
-
(Y/N) gently coaxes Corey into leaving. First, they strip the bed and take the linens. There are two dead cops - one in the kitchen, one outside. The one outside is face down in the pool in a giant cloud of red.
He makes her swear not to burn, dump, or even wash the linens. He wants to keep them forever. She's obviously just pacifying his post-coital psychosis when she agrees, but he still appreciates it.
She calls the scene in to dispatch as if she had the wrong address before. Then, Corey leaves on his motorcycle. He clenches his ass as he rides, wanting to keep Michael's seed inside as long as possible.