#dr loomis

[yawnzshit]

glasses are the sluttiest thing a man could wear.

[a-cold-mess]

Talk Nerdy to Me - Henry Loomis x GN!Reader

Word Count ~ 1757 Warnings: Blowjob (m!receiving), orgasm denial Notes: MDNI

Dr. Henry Loomis was many things: a summa cum laude graduate, student of the renowned Alan Grant, museum exhibition manager, and briefly an advisor to Parker-Genix. He’d made it through a Spinosaurus-Mosasaurus ambush, touched a Titanosaurus, nearly been pecked to death by a Quetzalcoatlus, fallen from a cliff, and been chased by mutant dinosaurs that shouldn’t have existed. Three spec-ops (they were totally mercenaries) had died on that island mission, yet he’d survived and kept his glasses intact. And after all that… he was pretty sure his partner was gonna be the death of him.

“You want me to what?” he squeaked, feeling the tips of his ears heat up.

Down on the ground, you were perched comfortably between Henry’s legs, eyelashes fluttering anything but innocently. Your cheek rested on his thigh so casually that one would think you belonged there (you did, and you’d swear that under oath).

“You heard me, Loomis,” you cooed, lips twisting into what could only be described as a Cheshire Cat grin. “Talk nerdy to me.”

The paleontologist blinked owlishly from behind his round spectacles. Part of him was wondering if he’d gotten concussed during the fall on that island and was just now starting to feel the effects. Definitely possible, since he totally should’ve.

It wasn’t that Henry had never been propositioned before–look at the man. Who wouldn’t want to climb all 5’11” (180.34 cm, since he’s a man of science) like a tree? No, it was more so that his current partner was just fucking insane. 

When he’d first met you, the first words out of your mouth were, “Are you a carbon sample? Because I want to date you.” He was just a man, a man at work who nearly dropped his clipboard out of sheer shock. But maybe he was a bit insane as well, since soon he was your boyfriend, or as you called him, “paleo boy”.

Which brings us back to the present.

“I assume that means you want me to talk about dinosaurs, but… do you have to be between my legs while I do it?” he asked, feeling a warmth more intense than the one in his ears start to pool in his gut. The current sight of you was very suggestive, but he had no clue if you were just being yourself or being yourself + horny. It was always a toss-up.

“Henryyyy, that’s the whole point,” you drawled, eyeing the bulge in his slacks. There had been less hunger radiating off the mutant dinosaurs that tried to eat him.

The bespeckled man pulled out his can of Altoids and shoved some in his mouth. Despite the icy coolness of the mints, his groin still felt like it was throbbing with heat. “Go ahead,” he groaned after he finished crunching the little white candies.

That was all you needed to hear, hands making quick work of Henry’s belt. There was an audible hitch in his throat as his boxers were exposed, including the little wet patch from his pre-cum. “Call me a paleontologist as well, because I’m about to unearth this bone,” you said with a laugh, tossing his pants aside.

“Why do I love y–f-fuuuuck…” As soon as you coaxed his cock out and wrapped your lips around the blushing tip, he was melting like butter. Blunt nails dug into the couch cushions, gripping onto them like he’d done with the cliff ledge.

You just smiled and pulled off, kissing the pearly drop of pre that was already beading up again. “C’mon, paleo boy,” you crooned, spitting a dollop of saliva onto your hand so you could work his aching shaft. “Asked you to talk nerdy to me. If you don’t, I’ll stop.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, slack-jawed, like you were an angel, the devil, or both. “Fine,” he gasped out, knowing you weren’t bluffing about blue-balling him. Another moan bubbled in the back of his throat as your wrist twisted ever so slightly. “What ngh period?”

“Hmm…” An absent-minded hum vibrated through you as you mulled over your three options. All the while, your hand languidly pumped up and down, filling the living room with slick, lewd noises. It was just enough to make Henry’s nerves tingle, but not sufficient to bring him closer to release. “How about Cretaceous?”

When your hand started to slow down even more, he blurted out, “Pachycephalosaurus.” As a reward, you dragged your tongue up one of the yummy-looking veins that adorned his cock, dragging a deep, shuddering moan from the depths of his soul. “I-it’s a herbivorous ah ornithiscian that lived about seventy million years ago.”

Now that Henry was getting started, so could the real fun. His hips jumped when you suddenly took the tip back into your warm, wet mouth, suckling oh-so sinfully. “Back in the 1870s, Joe–god, please more,” he whimpered, resisting the urge to push more of his length between your slick, accommodating lips. His restraint was laudable, but his begging, however cute, didn’t sound like an info dump. Slowly, you started to draw your head back, much to his despair.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” the brown-eyed man whined, trying desperately to recollect his thoughts, which was hard, considering you seemed to be trying to suck them straight out of his dick. “Back in the hngh 1870s, Joseph Leidy named a taxon Tylosteus ornatus because of a bone fragment that he mmm thought was reptile armor. That bone f-fragment was later determined to be part of a Pachycephalosaurus’s skull–the squamosal part, to be specific. Please keep on going.”

Much better. Your tongue swirled around his weeping tip, teasing at the leaking hole until his honeyed moans were coming out in full force. And it was beautiful because Henry Loomis moaned like a whore. His lashes fluttered behind his glasses, and his tendons tensed deliciously in his neck as he practically sobbed something about Stygimoloch spinifer, Dracorex hogwartsia, and potential juvenile skulls. In return, you took more of him, hollowing your cheeks until his hips were bucking softly.

Henry tried–he really did–to keep rattling off the factoids that he’d spend hundreds upon hundreds of hours researching, but he was just sooo helpless to the pleasure that you sent tearing through him. The moment words turned to just moans, you were off of his dick, letting it slap against the slutty, little sweater he’d worn to work that day.

He looked like he was going to cry.

“Henry, Henry,” you tutted, giving him a look of faux disappointment. He met your gaze, pupils blown wide and chest heaving in shallow, little pants. Sweat lined his hairline, trickling slowly down to his jaw. Yummy. “You were doing so well. Don’t tell me you don’t want to cum.”

An honest to god whine reverberated from the back of his throat.

“I do! I’m trying so hard, love,” he groaned, words coming out slurred. The poor man knew that if he didn’t get himself together, he’d be having a sad, not as sexy date with his hand tonight. “Just one more chance. I’ll be good. I’ll be so, so good.”

Who could say no to that?

Your hands braced on the paleontologist’s thighs, giving them an indulgent squeeze. “Hope that brain of yours keeps up this time,” was all you said before finally taking him wholly into your mouth.

For a brief moment, Henry couldn’t breathe. All he could discern was the rush of heat that spread from his cock to the rest of his body until he felt feverish. When his vision cleared, he saw you with hearts in your eyes and your nose buried in his trimmed pubes. It was the most exquisite thing he’d ever seen, more so than the wild Titanosauruses.

“Kingdom: animalia. Phylum: chor–oh my goddd–chordata,” he choked out, defaulting to rambling scientific classification. Remembering history was too big of an ask at the moment. “Cl-clade: dinosauria, ornithiiiiscia… pachycephalosauri–hahh.”

As Henry struggled through family, tribe, and genus, you began to bob your head, mixing the sloppy noise of your mouth gliding up and down his shaft with his symphony of moans. He was shaking now, eyes glossy with pleasured tears, and glasses crooked on his nose. Whatever facts he was spewing from his lips were random streams of consciousness at this point, because he would probably perish on the spot if you stopped. And this wasn’t a riverbed with silt. 

Pleased, you continued your torturous ministrations, removing one hand from his tensed thighs to gently fondle his taut balls. That was his undoing. Henry practically wept, “The only d-definitive type species is the P. wyomingensis! Shit! Cumminggg…”

You felt his cock twitch once, then twice in your mouth, releasing sporadic spurts of his cum while he cradled your cheeks with the same care he’d use with an excavated fossil, whimpering something delirious. God, he was a vision, dark hair mussed with sweat and head tipped back in ecstasy.

“F-fuckkkk, I love you,” Henry mumbled in his blissed out state, finally regaining some coherency. His head weakly tilted forward, witnessing you as you drew off with a soft pop and swallowed down his essence. You were too damn hot for your own good.

Smiling, you pushed yourself to your feet and kissed his bearded jaw before going over to the kitchen and getting two glasses of water. When you returned, Henry’s hands were trembling, so you held the cup for him as he drank in greedy gulps.

“So sweet,” he said breathlessly, pulling you into his side as soon as his cup was set aside. “You're perfect.” The light scratch of his scruff as he rubbed his cheek against your shoulder made you laugh fondly.

“You make it sound like we’re done here,” you purred, carding your fingers through his dark, damp locks. “Once you recover, we’re doing this again, but this time, I’m going to ride you.”

In an instant, the sleepy post-oral haze was gone. Desire was once again stoked in his core, the sensation completely at odds with the logical part of his brain, which was screaming that he couldn’t survive this ordeal again. “Y-you’re going to what?” he stammered.

A lazy grin just graced your lips as you grabbed his pants from the coffee table (he hadn’t even noticed them landing there), then pulled out his Altoids, popping one in your mouth. “Love you,” you giggled, pulling Henry into a kiss. ‘Definitely the devil,’ he thought to himself while your tongue gently pushed the candy into his mouth. ‘But I still love them.’

A/N: Thank you for reading!

And ty to @swimmingnightcolor, who made me wanna write faster. I wrote this as fast as I could (which is not fast for most, but it is for me)

And another ty to @inadreamgirl. When I stumbled upon their post and saw that their vision aligned with mine, I knew I had to write this.

[inadreamgirl]

dr henry loomis is so cute ugh i want him to talk to me about different sub species of dinosaurs and all these facts but struggling to talk because im sucking him off and if he stops talking i stop so if he wants to cum he has to keep talking

[storiesbyshadow]

Precious Moments

Fandom: Jurassic World: Rebirth

Pairing: Dr. Henry Loomis x Pregnant!Reader

Rating: Mature

Tags: Slight Angst, Fluff, Protective Henry, Love, Decorating, Cuddling, He Dotes On You, You're A Bit Emotional, So Much Fluff, Kissing, Soft Touches

Word Count: Around 2000

Written For: @fandombingo

Squares/PromptsFilled: G5 - Cuddling On The Couch for Fandom Bingo

Dividers By: @/saradika-graphics

Requested By: This sweet anon. Thank you for being patient. I hope this is okay and what you wanted. If not, please let me know so I can write you another fic to make it right ❤️

The late afternoon sun was high in the sky by the time Henry finally locked the doors and headed home. He had spent the entire day rearranging exhibits, giving lectures, and fielding endless questions, but all the while, his thoughts drifted back to you. His wife. His very pregnant, stubbornly independent wife.

He worried constantly. He’d built his life on bones and theories, but you were something he could never study or measure, only cherish...and protect.

When he let himself into the house, he expected to find you resting on the sofa, curled beneath the quilt he always left ready for you. Maybe with a mug of tea he’d brewed that morning before leaving.

But the silence was strange.

He set his satchel down slowly, listening. A soft clatter drifted down the hallway, and his stomach dropped.

“Sweetheart?” His voice was careful and worried all at once.

No answer.

Henry strode quickly toward the nursery. The door stood half-open, and when he pushed it wider, the sight made his eyes soften marginally.

There you were. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, a screwdriver in hand, cheeks flushed, your rounded belly obvious under your dress. A half-assembled crib sprawled around you like the scattered remains of some primitive beast, bolts and wooden slats everywhere.

His breath caught in his chest.

“What,” he said softly, the word edged with disbelief, “do you think you're doing?”

You froze, eyes darting guiltily to his. “I...I just wanted to help. The baby will be here soon and I thought-”

“Help?” His voice sharpened, though the heat in it was born of the need to keep you safe. He stepped fully into the room, throat working as he crouched down in front of you. “You are nine months pregnant. You should be resting, my love, not on the floor.”

His hand trembled slightly as he brushed it over your cheek, down your arm, and then to your belly, cupping the swell with care. “You could have told me you wanted the crib built. I'd have come home early if you'd only called me.”

You pouted softly, defensive. “Henry, I just wanted to do something. You never let me-”

“Never let you?” His eyes flared, a mixture of exasperation and desperate love. He kissed your forehead, quick and firm, before pulling back to meet your gaze. “Darling, you are already doing everything. You’re carrying our child. You’re building our family with every breath you take. Do you think there is any task, any museum exhibit, or crib or fossil, that matters more than that?”

Your throat tightened, tears threatening. He looked so undone, kneeling there with his tie loose and his hands spread protectively over your body.

Henry exhaled shakily, then sighed. “You will drive me to an early grave.” And with surprising ease, he slid his arms beneath you, lifting you off the floor despite how pregnant you were..

“Henry!” you squeaked, clutching his shoulders.

“Shh,” he murmured, carrying you over to the rocking chair in the corner of the nursery. He set you down carefully, smoothing your dress, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. His hands lingered at your belly again, palms broad and steady. “You sit. You tell me what you want for dinner. You tell me if you need water, tea, or, hell, ten pillows. And I will finish this crib.”

Your lips curved, tender despite your embarrassment. “You’re really not going to let me help at all, are you?”

“Not even if you beg,” he said firmly, though his voice softened when he leaned down to kiss you again. “My job is to keep you safe. Both of you.”

Henry’s shoulders flexed beneath his shirt as he crouched by the crib, steady and meticulous, tightening each bolt with the same focus he gave to mounting priceless fossils in the museum. Every so often, he glanced at you in the rocking chair to make sure you were okay.

When the crib finally stood whole, polished and sturdy, he wiped his brow and then knelt beside it. Large hands smoothed over the railing, testing it, before one spread over your belly again.

“There,” he murmured, leaning close, lowering his voice as he kissed the swell of your belly. “Safe and strong. Just like your momma.” His hands brushed your stomach tenderly. “And when you’re finally home, little one, you’ll sleep here. Surrounded by every comfort we can give you.”

Your throat tightened, watching him, this brilliant, serious man made softer than you’d ever seen.

He stayed that way for a while, one palm against your belly, talking to your baby. That he’d teach them about bones and the history of the world, that he’d keep both of you safe. His voice grew husky at the end, and he pressed one more kiss against you before standing to tuck a blanket neatly into the crib.

Over the next few days, he grew almost feverish with preparation.

When you suggested hiring someone to help, Henry refused. “No one else,” he’d said lowly, before softening when he saw your look. “No one else is worthy of building this for you both.”

He came home from the museum each evening with bags tucked under his arms, rolls of wallpaper patterned with tiny, multicolored dinosaurs, stacks of children’s books with fossil illustrations, plushies shaped like triceratops, stegosaurs, and even a plush T. Rex whose grin made you giggle.

Henry didn’t laugh. He smoothed the toy’s head with surprising tenderness. “He’ll guard the baby,” he said firmly, setting the plush at the corner of the crib like a sentinel.

The wallpaper went up under his steady hands, painstakingly aligned while he refused to let you so much as stand on a stepstool. He would stop every few minutes, checking on you in the rocking chair, pressing a glass of water into your hand or brushing a kiss across your temple.

By the time the nursery was finished, it was a pale green sanctuary filled with prehistoric wonder, tiny fossils painted along the trim, shelves lined with books and plush dinosaurs, and a mobile of pterodactyls hung gently over the crib.

You sat back in awe, tears filling your eyes. “Henry…it’s beautiful.”

He stood in the doorway, tie loosened, hands still dusty from his work, and looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world. “And you...,” he murmured, crossing to kneel at your side. His hand spread over your belly, his forehead brushing yours. “You’re beautiful. You and our precious baby, and I can't wait to spoil you both even after they're born.”

Later that night, you lay in bed, shifting again, sighing when another little kick jabbed at your ribs. The sheets felt too hot, your body too heavy, and sleep wouldn’t come. You didn’t want to disturb Henry, he’d worked himself ragged between the museum and fussing over you all day, so you carefully slipped out from under the covers and padded softly into the living room.

The couch welcomed you, cushions arranged into a nest you’d perfected over the last few weeks. You curled up as best you could, rubbing a hand over your restless belly. “Alright, little one,” you whispered, “I know you’re excited, but your mama’s tired.”

You’d only just closed your eyes when you heard the bedroom door creak.

“Sweetheart?” Henry’s voice was low, but tight with worry. Moments later, his tall frame filled the doorway, hair mussed from sleep, his shirt unbuttoned halfway. His eyes swept the room until they landed on you, and he let out a relieved breath. “Thank God.”

He crossed to you immediately, crouching by the couch. “Why didn’t you wake me?” His hand brushed over your arm, then to your belly, checking you over.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you admitted softly. “I just…I can’t get comfortable. And the baby’s been kicking nonstop.”

For a moment, his expression flickered, exasperation that you’d suffered in silence, fear that you’d slipped away without him knowing. But when he exhaled again, it was with pure tenderness. “Bother me? Darling, you are my every joy.”

He guided you gently, adjusting pillows with almost comical precision until you were supported on every side, your legs stretched, your back eased. Then, instead of returning to bed, Henry slid onto the couch beside you, one arm curling around your shoulders, the other resting over your belly.

“There now,” he murmured. “Both of you are exactly where you belong.”

When the baby kicked again, he smiled, lowering his head. He pressed a soft kiss against the curve of your stomach. Then another. And another, as if dotting the kicks themselves with affection.

“You’re keeping your momma awake, sweetheart,” he whispered, his lips brushing your skin between words. “She needs her rest, and so do you. You’ll have all the time in the world to wriggle and kick once you’re here. But for now…be still. Be gentle with her.”

His voice was low, soothing, almost hypnotic. He spoke to the baby about fossils and stars, about how fiercely he loved them already, about how he dreamed of carrying them through the museum one day and showing off the bones of creatures long gone. His hand rubbed slow circles over your belly, grounding you, easing the tension from your body.

Your eyelids grew heavy, the sound of his murmurs and the steady warmth of his hand lulling you. The last thing you felt was his lips pressing one final kiss against your bump, and his whispered vow:

“I will love you both until the end of time.”

Sunlight swept slowly into the living room, slipping between the curtains and warming the space in soft golden beams. You stirred, half-waking, your body still heavy with the best sleep you’d had in days.

For a moment you didn’t quite understand why, until you realized the weight against your side, the warmth of a hand still splayed protectively across your belly.

Henry.

He was slumped awkwardly on the couch beside you, his long frame bent at an angle. One arm pillowed his head, the other had never left you, fingers curled gently against the swell of your stomach as if even in sleep he refused to let go. His glasses were set neatly on the side table, you hadn’t even noticed him take them off last night.

You smiled faintly, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead.

Almost instantly, his eyes blinked open, sharp with worry before he saw you awake beside him. Relief softened his features. “Good morning, sweetheart,” he rasped, voice thick with sleep. He shifted upright quickly, checking you over with his hands. “How do you feel? Any pain? Any discomfort?”

You shook your head, still smiling. “Actually… better than I’ve slept in weeks.”

At that, his whole body seemed to exhale. He leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead, lingering there. “Then this is where we’ll sleep from now on. The couch, the floor, a chair, it doesn’t matter. If you rest, I’ll rest.”

“Henry…” you laughed softly. “You can’t mean that.”

“I do,” he said firmly, straightening. His shirt was wrinkled, his hair tousled, but his eyes shone with unshakable devotion. “I’ll build you a nest of pillows right here every night if I must. I’ll fetch tea, warm milk, or anything else you desire. The bed is nothing compared to your comfort.”

Your heart squeezed. You reached for his hand, guiding it back to your belly. “You’re going to spoil us both.”

“Good,” he murmured, kissing your temple, then leaning down to press another kiss to the curve of your stomach. “You deserve nothing less.”

The baby kicked beneath his palm as if answering him, and Henry chuckled low in his throat, the sound rumbling against your skin. “See? Even they agree with me.”

Later that afternoon, Henry decided you needed air. So, he took you to the museum.

He insisted on driving you himself, fussing with your coat and scarf even though the day was mild. When you tried to argue that you could manage, he only fixed you with a look that ended the discussion instantly.

Inside, the museum was quiet, closed to the public that day. The familiar scent of polished wood and old stone wrapped around you like an embrace.

Henry guided you slowly through each hall, his hand never leaving yours until he stopped at an exhibit. Then, with ritualistic care, he would step behind you, sliding one arm low across your belly. His palm spread beneath the swell, lifting just enough to take the weight off your aching back. You melted into the relief, sighing, and he pressed a kiss to your temple.

“There we go,” he murmured. “Better?”

“Much,” you whispered.

And then he began to talk, not to you, but to the baby.

At the fossilized Triceratops skull, his voice softened. “This one roamed the earth sixty-eight million years ago, little one. A herbivore. Strong, protective. Much like your mother.” He squeezed you gently, his lips grazing your ear.

At the towering skeleton of a sauropod, he chuckled, smoothing his hand over your belly. “See this giant? One of the largest creatures to ever walk the earth. Someday, I’ll teach you their names. I’ll show you every bone, every secret.”

Through each hall he spoke, patient and passionate, as if the baby could already understand every word. You leaned back against his chest, eyes half-closed, letting the cadence of his voice wash over you, the pressure on your spine easing under his careful support.

Finally, he led you out into the museum gardens. The afternoon sun filtered through the trees, dappling the gravel paths and flowerbeds. You stopped before a quiet bench, and Henry guided you down carefully, his hand still steady at your back until you were settled.

He knelt in front of you, broad hands cupping your belly. His forehead rested against it for a moment, his shoulders trembling as if overwhelmed.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice rough. He lifted his gaze to yours, eyes shining with emotion. “For this. For our baby. For giving me everything I never knew I needed. You and our little miracle...you are my whole world.”

Your throat tightened, tears gathering in your eyes as you stroked his hair.

He kissed your belly again, then your hands, then finally your lips, slow, gentle, filled with unspoken promises.

Henry Tag List: @a-quick-request @swimmingnightcolor @sunalsolove @thorins-queen-of-erebor @demiromance @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @i-do-not-care-bear @stormster111

[thatssomegoodsoup]

DR. LOOMIS x READER HCs

watched Jurassic World: Rebirth last night and knew I had to write something for this man

Reader is a dinosaur researcher, studying their behavior (similar to Darius in Jurassic World: Chaos Theory & Jurassic World: Camp Cretaceous)

If you're as passionate about dinosaurs as this man is, you're perfect for him

Telling you dinosaur facts is Henry's way of flirting

He likes treating you to a home cooked dinner

Dates primarily include watching dinosaur documentaries, going on a drive, hiking, reading books, or going to the movies

You two got the public interested in dinosaurs again by publishing books, papers, and documentaries on their behaviors

Loomis is very intelligent, emotionally and educationally, so he knows when something is wrong with you, and is there for you

You two sometimes curl up on the couch together and read to each other, or cuddle into each other and read separate books

Henry gets flustered easily, so any flirting or compliments you throw towards him are going to leave him a mess

He sometimes takes you on expeditions with him (if he's allowed to)

He prefers swimming and boating in freshwater because of his experiences, expect this man not to go more than knee deep in any form of saltwater

Loomis is hopelessly in love with you, he 100% fell first

His nicknames for you are primarily dinosaur related, as are yours (you also call him 'Romeo', 'loverboy', and, teasingly, 'pathetic')

You two are advocates for available and affordable healthcare

He would love any pets you have

Henry remained friends with Kincaid, Zora, and the Delgado family, so you've met them and are friends with them too (and you two sometimes tag along on boating trips and road trips with the Delgado family)

CREDIT FOR DIVIDER: @thecutestgrotto

Personally I really liked the movie, although I can see why people hate it. I watch low budget horror films for fun, anything people say about the movie will not sway me. 10/10 movie imo.

Although the script portrayed him as not smart because of the incorrect dino facts, I'm pretty sure he'd be a smart and capable guy in the JW universe.

[hrefna-the-raven]

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RZ Michael Myers x female nurse reader

Part 1 - 2

Words: 1476

Warnings: smut (18+)

Summary: Michael has escaped Smith Grove's Sanitarium...

Reader: short female reader, female genitals in smut scenes

The voice echoing in his mind persisted, urging him to go to Haddonfield but the back door he was sliding open was miles away from it, for today he listened to another power rising from deep within. Stepping inside, he found himself standing in the kitchen, his eyes drawn to the assortment of sweets and candies neatly arranged on the countertop. A faint smile curled at the edges of his mouth, knowing that you had purchased each one of them according to the list. Right next to it, neatly folded, was a black witch costume with a small hat resting atop of it.

You were sitting on the couch, engrossed in the movie "Bates Motel" when a continued cold draft caught finally caught your attention. With a grunt, you switched off the TV and lifted your body from the comfort of the couch, making your way towards the kitchen. Your fingers fumbled in search of the light switch, and as it clicked on, your gaze shot up, landing on the tall masked man standing at the counter, his fingers gliding over the tiny hat from your costume. You immediately recognised deep blue striped pants and the torn dirty gray bathrobe that seemed tiny hanging on his imposing figure.

"Michael!", you shouted in shock and total disbelief.

Your body froze for a moment. It was something else seeing this mountain of man standing in your kitchen, close to midnight, all alone and far away from the security that Smith's Grove provided. How could he even be here? Did he escape? Just as you wondered why nobody had informed you about the escape of the patient you mainly took care of, the sharp ringing of the wall-mounted phone next to you startled both you and Michael. Without diverting your gaze from him, you reached out and grabbed the phone, placing it against your ear and waiting a moment before speaking.

"Hello?"

"Oh nurse, heavens! I'm glad I was able to reach you. Michael has escaped, he killed several on his way out."

There was a pause on the other side as Loomis waited for your reply. Any sane person would have freaked out while being trapped alone in their home with the sanitarium's most infamous patient. The doctor on the other end of the line was you're only chance to call for help and as the thoughts of what any sane person would have done in that moment flashed before your inner vision, your body had its own surprise in store for you. Your hand gestured for Michael to close the door behind him while you shot a warm smile at him before focusing back on the phone call.

"Oh my god, that's terrible! Did someone alarm the police? Do you know where he's headed?"

Michael blinked in disbelief as you faked a shocked tone while the traces of your smile still lingered on your lips. His eyes never left your figure, his hand fumbling behind him to close the door. The enigma that was you continued to surprise him, eluding the expectations formed by the cruel world around him, only to grace him with the kindness he not only thought lost after his mother stopped visiting him. No, you continued to surpass it and as he stood within your kitchen, he almost felt a sense of home, carrying his thoughts to the one he had back then as he briefly wondered where his little sister could be now.

"No I haven't seen him. Why would he come here? Have you checked in Haddonfield where his sister lives now?"

You winked at him, feeling freed from your confidential oath as he was technically, officially, not near you to overhear such information. Michael felt stunned at your response. Back in the sanitarium he had wondered more than once if you'd be able to peak into his mind as you always seemed to understand him so well and now you had answered the very question that had been lingering in his mind. A strange sensation burned underneath his skin as if he wanted to...wanted to kiss you. His breaths grew heavier and his hands pressed tightly against his sides, trying to hide the trembles.

"I'll keep a look out but I'm sure he won't waste any time coming here. You too. Goodnight Dr Loomis."

You hung up the phone and turned back to Michael, taking a few hesitant steps into his direction.

"So...uhm...what brought you here? You could also have tried to find your sister."

A small shivering breath came from behind the mask before Michael slowly pulled it off his face and pointed at you. Your brows furrowed for a moment and you contemplated on the possibilities before answering cautiously.

"Me? You came here because of me? To see me?"

He nodded, placing his mask on the counter beside your costume and sank to his knees, arms outstretched, waiting for you to approach him. He was aware that you probably knew the circumstances that led to his escape, Loomis would have surely informed you how much blood stained his hands tonight. And yet, you chose to send the doctor straight to Haddonfield all the while wearing a smile on your face. You had a choice tonight and you chose him. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes when you wrapped your arms around him, exhaling relieved at the shared closeness. It had been a long time since anyone had chosen him, and now here you were, gently cradling his face, your gaze filled with nothing but affection. His heart ached beautifully as the feeling of home nestled within. He leaned in closer, his lips pressing on yours in a, first, tender kiss that quickly morphed into burning passion he couldn't control any longer. Strong hands slid beneath your butt and you gasped when you were lifted onto the counter. Long fingers wrapped around your shorts and panties, tearing them off with such force that they were flying off to the corner of the kitchen.

"Michael!", you shrieked in surprise but your legs parting on their own betrayed your desire.

Michael groaned at the sight of your wet folds before him. Not only had you chosen him, but you were also willing to surrender yourself to him, to be his. He silently vowed to worship you as the angelic being that you were, grant you the pleasures of the heavens you descended from. Gently, he positioned your legs over his shoulders and leaned forward, his face coming tantalisingly close to your cunt and you could feel his breath fanning over your wetness. A deep, sinful moan escaped your lips as his tongue pressed flat against your swollen clit. His fingers dug deeper into your flesh as your sweet taste began to fill his mouth, igniting a feral hunger within him. His sloppy licks grew faster, sucking at your clit in between before shoving three fingers into your dripping entrance. You cried out in pleasure as he kept thrusting into you, pushing you fast towards the edge of your release. The man between your legs had nothing in common with the shy calm patient from the observation room, the one standing between your legs ate you out like a starved man, worshipping you for the loyalty you showed him. Your fingers entwined in his hair, urging him closer as you bucked your hips and cried out his name, panting and finally coming undone while pure bliss washed over you. Michael mumbled something against your folds before rising and using his sleeve to wipe away your juices from his face. You still breathed heavily, chuckling as you hopped off the countertop, searching for your pants in the kitchen corner.

"That was....wow....I-I should return the favour", you spoke softly, pulling up your pants.

As you glanced up, a short gasp escaped your lips as you discovered Michael already standing beside you, his arms sneaking around your waist as he placed a tender kiss on your forehead.

"Later", he murmured, his voice coarse and deep, "let's sleep."

Those little words, so simple and yet the desire that gave birth to them ran so deep. Michael never truly had someone, his dark thoughts being the only company he ever knew until, one day, you stepped through those doors in the Sanitarium. He had always wondered it how would to be to lie down in bed with someone, not a single worry in his world as only happiness seeped through his body and the warmth of your touch lulling him into slumber. You led him upstairs and cuddled up to him on your bed, slowly sinking into a blissful sleep in the arms of Haddonfield's most feared man. Michael caressed your arm, eyelids growing heavy as he drifted off, one final thought lingering before surrendering to the irresistible lure of slumber. Home...

Feel free to reblog if you enjoyed the story 😊

[sydtheaustralia]

Old piece I did last year but never posted it here.

[floravvitch]

Halloween : The Game - Single Player Trailer