STILL GREEN
RZ! Michael Myers, AFAB Reader, Feminine Terminology Used, reader is lowkey highkey delusional
Green.
Green like freshness.
Green like new.
Green like envy.
Green like the jealous pit that lingered within his stomach every time he saw you talking to the neighbors. The same pit that ever only grew in size when it concerned you. You, his darling little mouse, so friendly, so kind. It’s what drew him to you, you know. Kindness wasn’t something that stayed within Smith’s Grove, nor was it catered to. Kindness was snuffed out, diminished at the first sign, but not you. Never you. It was an honest mistake really, you being there. Taking the fall for something someone else did, so valiant weren’t you? Oh, and then you met Michael. Just a boy he was, barely breaching 5’8 at the time, and then you came in, practically skipping. You were a mere year younger than him at the most. The nurses, god fucking damn those nurses, were rough with you, he was and would never be rough with you. Michael watched, a lot. He likes to watch you. You’re quite pleasing to look at in his eyes. You were kind to everyone despite everything the staff and patients did to you. You, his own personal sun, his warmth in this filth-ridden world.
You were his.
And he was your’s.
After your departure from Smith’s Grove, a sad day indeed. You didn’t leave Haddenfield. In fact, you moved back into your old house, fell back into a steady routine. It stayed like that for a good few years, you shedded that girlish immaturity of your’s. But you remained kind, warm. Your days at Smith’s Grove weren’t forgotten, your mind lingered on the boy you’d tried to befriend those handful of years ago sometimes you’d try and visit, though once again in vain. Soon, you moved on, or tried to. You lead a simple life, one that suited you. Work and home. That’s mostly what your days consisted of. Though the news blaring of a highly dangerous patient’s escape from the Sanatarium. Though the name was what made you drop the glass you’d been washing.
Michael fucking Myers.
Any normal person would be scared, terrified even. But you? Not a thing, well not a thing any one word could describe. He was alive after all of this? Something, a small string in your heart pulled for him. You knew how the staff treated the patients within those walls, how they treated Michael. It made you sick, and the memory of Dr.Loomis’s ‘interviews’ left you scarred. Michael was young then, still a boy.
The days were long, dull. Blending together with one another. People’s fear left them paranoid, and paranoia leads to other erratic behavior. Just the other hour an older couple practically had a melt down when they say some kid’s preparing for Halloween. It was sad, but not any of your business. Still, you continued your routine. Though your garden needed tending to. It was something you’d picked up from a grandparent, now it was just something to keep you busy, something to care for. The crisp October air was a pleasantry you’d taken comfort in, letting you wear your comfort jumpers to your hearts content. You knelt, the cold dirt hardened as you plucked at the weeds, tugging a few carrots, and clipping sweet peppers for dinner, though a chill ran down your spine. Not of fear, no, but of a feeling of being stalked. Like prey sensing their impending doom at the awaiting jaws of a predator. You straightened your back, head turning to study the surrounding neighbor’s yards and short stretch of wood.
The hair on the back of your neck bristled.
Him.
Michael was big, bigger than you thought a man could get. An orange mask covered his features, but even then you remembered those eyes. Oh his eyes.. Dr.Loomis was wrong, at least to you. Because Michael looked at you you’d hung the stars and moon themselves, like you were the holy being prophesied to save him. But in a blink, he was gone. You’d think yourself crazy had it not been for his eyes. The same eyes you’d felt drawn to in your youth.
That night you found little sleep. Creaking of your house made his presence know. He wanted you to know. Michael knew how to be quiet, how to make himself invisible, but he wanted you to know he was looming just a few feet away.
“ Michael. “ you announced, voice hoarse. The creaking stopped.
~Time Skip~
You’d gotten used to Michael’s presence, sure, the fact he’d eat any and everything sweet within your house and the neighbor’s was a bit..odd, but everyone has their quirks right? Some days, he’d stand behind you whilst you cooked, almost close enough to touch you. It took a long while to build that up, you weren’t complaining. But Michael was greedy. He wanted everything from you and more, it was the least he was owed after you left Smith’s right? It was the least you could do for him after he keeps your house protected! He encroached slowly, it started off with simple touches on your ankle, then you’d awake with his hand on the inside of your knee and so forth. And here you were now, underneath the mountain you called your house husband.
Michael’s cock throbbed in your heat, this was what? Your fifth orgasm? Sixth? Neither one of you cared enough to keep count. You were so faced out, crossed eyed and drooling at this point, and Michael was panting, guttural moans bordering whine erupting from his throat. He’d mumble what sounded like broken sounds of your name and ‘mine’, you couldn’t quite make it out even if you weren’t so cock-drunk. Michael’s hand crept from beside your head and made its way to your throat, he didn’t choke you, simply felt how small you were compared to him. How delicate you were beneath him. All his. The mere thought has his cock aching, and the look you gave him was delectable. Your perfect lips parted, he stilled. Awaiting your words with a bated breath. “ Please, pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease-“ you begged. The sweet whines you gave Michael were his salvation. You were his heaven begging him for entry. You were his God. His Heaven, his Hell. All gift wrapped into one, perfectly flawed being and all his for the taking. Michael groaned, a guttural sound, his head falling beside your’s, his dark blond locks falling over his face. The night was still young, and your pleas only egged him on further.
Michael’s thrusts quickened, his tip kissing your womb. He could feel you getting close, after all your were practically milking his cock as it was, but now? Your weeping cunt was like a vice. You wrapped you legs around his broad waist, whining and keening for him to bring you past the edge again, despite being so sensitive already. Needy baby, weren’t you? Michael smiled, sinking his teeth into your shoulder as you came. Your vision turned white as you tightened your legs around Michael, spent body trembling as you began to go limp. Michael’s head rose from your shoulder, blood staining his teeth as he stared you down, his eyes blown with lust. His kiss swollen lips quivering lips muttering silent words before uttering a statement that had your core aching once more.
“ Not done. “
Author’s Comments: OKAY SOOOO I’m a day behind and it’ll most likely stay that way because my schedule this month is packed as hell already. Mod 800 is currently on break for reasons I will not disclose nor discuss and I will most likely be handling the rest of KinkTober. This is kinda rushed and once again English is neither Mods first languages so please be considerate. Thank you ghoulies!
Signing off,
Mod 888