Oh My God This Was Amazing I-

oh my god this was amazing i-

Affection

INCLUDES MICHAEL 

I have gotten a few different requests for a softer more affectionate side of Michael so I decided to put them together and create this, a longer (almost 2k words) descriptive drabble about showering with Michael. All this talk about getting Michael to shower and what his hygiene is like had me thinking lol… Now this is deeply inspired by @slasherholic and their writing style, of course I made it my own but it is defiantly a nod to them :) Thank you for your asks and requests!.. hope you enjoy 🔪💕

MASTERLIST

There was a sting on your cool soft skin as you stepped into the blazing stream, raining down from the old head above. Through gritted teeth you bared your head back allowing the water to soak you, down your hair, trailing every muscle in your shoulders and back. Burning your flesh with a pleasent tingle from the contrast of temperatures as you had just been outside on a walk, the autumn wind was sharp kissing your face and seeping into your bones. Closing your eyes you calmed completely around the hot water, tension ebbed from your muscles and your jaw; it had been a long day, and you could not have needed this more. 

Steam flowed off your skin and out the top of the curtain like soft clouds, painting the mirror and sweating on the tiles, finally reaching the cracked door and seemingly disappearing into the night. Soft hands ran through your hair pushing away the water along the edges of your face, pooling beneath your feet and draining with quiet gurgles. 

The placid air had suddenly changed as you heard the shower curtain pull along the metal rod, screeching at the force; you did not open your eyes for you knew exactly who it was. The smell of iron, rich dirt and a firm musk coating the air, almost battling with the steam and the fresh smells of your body wash. The curtain superseded it’s own path with the same screech and crinkles, a large, mysterious presence appeared in front of you, out of the steam that seemed to billow around him. 

Opening your eyes you met his; one brown, dark and deep with a slight hint of yellow around the iris, outlined like black ink. The other scarred; a dull shade you could never decide if it was more blue or more grey, it reminded you of a thunderstorm approaching, devouring any bright sky and coating the blue in dark streaks and shadows, while his scar was in the shape of a catastrophic bolt of lighting, forking and brutally tearing through the iris; Much like the shape, a force of nature, leaving destruction in it’s wake.

Michael just watched you with a look you could never place, and sometimes you just didn’t want to know what that look meant, it was a mystery, like him; never solvable, never predictable, dangerous, and so beautiful in the hidden detail all at once. Loving this gaze was a curse and a privilege. You were one of the only people who ever got to meet these forceful eyes, see the detail in them and live. Perhaps that was his affection. 

Keep reading

If Jason Voorhees was ten when he died, then how come he's so crazy hugelarge?

a.) He swelled up in Crystal Lake like one of those grow-your-own-dinosaurs.

b.) Hell has a Make-a-Wish program and he wished to be an eight foot slab of stab meat.

c.) Flintstones vitamins.

d.) He's wearing stilts.

e.) It's an optical illusion.

YOUR WRITING IS SO BEAUTIFUL AHHHH could you do Brahms heelshire watching the reader pleasure herself from the walls? But she hasnt met the real brahms yet? Maybe shes seen him appear in her doorway but thought she must have drempt it. Sorry if it's too much

THANK U SO MUCH!!!!!!

same as the rest of these prompts, i’m sorry this is like, a year late!! but i had no inspiration whatsoever. buuut better late than never!

i also just keep writing long stuff so for everyone’s convenience, i’ll put it under a readmore

~~~~~~~

you finished up brahms’ bath and put him to bed. yeah, you thought it was strange that you were instructed to take care of a doll. but, the house was beautiful, even if dusty. you enjoyed the routine of taking care of the doll and caring for the house. but.. it was lonely, even you had to admit. you were never one for crowds, but even you had needs. there was one need, though, that you could satisfy yourself. and that day you had felt that itch.

when you got back to your room, you already knew what you would do. you changed into a nightgown and crawled into bed. you didn’t get great service here, which meant you could either wait an eternity for porn to load to help you out, or you could get right to it and use your imagination. you were tired, and impatient, so you opted for the later. 

you looked down at your frame from your spot laying in bed. your eyes lingered where your nightgown hem rested on your thigh. you ran your hand over your breast, down your stomach, and then between your legs. your middle and ring finger slipped between your lips, over your clit and to your entrance, and felt the warmth and wetness already there. you’d been looking forward to this all day.

you gathered that slick on your fingers, and pulled it up to your clit where you started to make slow circles. you knew that with nothing external to stimulate you, it might take a while, so you closed your eyes, hummed, and tried to imagine anything that would help.

your mind went back to a strange dream you had the other night, that seemed so real you almost thought you weren’t dreaming. in your dream, you were awoken in your bed by that eerie feeling of being watched. to be fair, that was a feeling you often felt in this old house. you had chalked it up to your first time being in a house covered in photos and paintings. but this was different. a feeling so strong, it had roused you from your dream-sleep. without moving, you instinctually looked to the door. in real life, you knew you slept with the door closed. in this dream world, your door was half open, and in the doorway stood a man. a tall man shrouded in near-darkness. you could see that his head was mop of dark curls with a face that seemed to glow white. the rest of his body seemed to be clothed in a dark sweater and light pants. you saw him shift slightly, as if he noticed you were awake. when you blinked, he was gone. 

somehow, this was the thought you drifted back to. it was only a harmless dream, so you didn’t feel silly about imagining that this mysterious man had come to have his way with you, consensually, of course. with that scenario playing in your head, you felt yourself getting wetter.

brahms watched you stoop down to lay his doll into bed. he watched with baited breath as your lips pressed against the porcelain forehead and lingered for barely a moment. his finger nails subconsciously dug ever so slightly into the wood planks lining the inside of the wall that kept him apart from you, as he watched this. it was his favorite part.

where he was, it was dark, and even more dusty that the rest of the house. luckily cobwebs no longer got in his hair, ever since you arrived, as he found himself moving through the walls much more frequently to watch you throughout your days.

you left the room, so brahms expertly and soundlessly maneuvered through the walls into the room a few over. he knew this room as yours and its where you always went after you put the doll to bed. he also knew you would be getting changed. he was so quick that he arrived right as you started. to his dismay, you were turned away from his hole in the wall as you removed your shirt and bra. he frowned, almost pouting. it wasn’t fair, he thought, even as his eyes scanned the exposed skin of your back. then your pants came off, and he got to watch you bend over to remove the legs of them. this cheered him up.

he disappointedly watched you get into bed, until you didn’t get under the blankets. his held tilted to the side and leaned in closer to the hole he was peaking out of. that was curious of you.

when your hand touched your breast, he held his breath. when it went between your legs, he almost gasped and sucked in his breath. his hole in the wall gave him the perfect view up your nightgown. as your hand moved in slow circles on your sex, his face pressed up against the dusty inside of the walls, straining to get as clear of a view as he possibly could.

when you spread your legs, he let out a whimper. he immediately scolded himself, internally, but thankfully you didn’t notice. his whole body tingled, and a heat in his groin grow. he reached his right hand over his crotch and pawed at his hardening cock through the fabric. he exhaled a shaky breath.

your delicate fingers quickened on your clit with short breaks to rub along your entrance, where you felt and gathered the wetness that he could see gleaming on your fingers and on your cunt in the low light. then you let two fingers slip inside, and he stifled a groan and silently spit some saliva into his hand. his cock throbbed, fully erect as he pushed the band of his sweatpants down and exposed himself. he gave his cock long quick strokes. he bit his bottom lip to keep silent.

when you moaned, the fingernails of his left hand dug into the wood, nearly splintering it. his mouth hung open, his breath quickened with his pace on his cock. precum already beaded at the tip so he gathered it with his thumb, doing circles around the sensitive head. his legs started to tremble. through the hole he watched as the two fingers of your other hand went into your mouth and came out wet with saliva. they went between your legs as well, and you readjusted your body to easily let them slip into your dripping cunt, and started to pump them in and out while your dominant hand rubbed your clit even faster. he fisted his cock to match your pace.

open mouthed, his breath was hot and heavy, trying desperately to stay silent. he was so close, but he wanted to wait until you were finished. he didn’t want to waste a single moment of this. oh how he would give anything to bust through this wall and fuck you into the mattress until you screamed his name. but you didn’t even know that he existed, so he could only watch and get his eye-full, for the moment.

his legs shook and he was reaching his limit. you moaned louder, shorter, until suddenly you almost let out a shout, your legs closed on your hands and your hips bucked off of the bed. the coil inside brahms’ groin quickly snapped, and he shot hot white cum on the wall in front of him. the wooden plank under his left hand splintered. he went completely silent to keep himself from groaning your name as pure ecstasy washed over him, emanating from his groin. in his ecstasy, he’d moved his eye from the wall briefly. when he mustered up the composure to look again, he was thankful that you hadn’t heard a sound of it, caught up in your own ecstasy. after a few moments to come down, you pulled down your nightgown and got under the covers. as he regained all of his senses, all brahms could think about was tasting you, fucking you. he couldn’t wait much longer. he had to have you. you were his.

Damn daddyyyyy

I literally just drew this as an excuse to draw his body hair bc mmph

michael meyers dealing with a blind s/o touching his face/body pwease? would he mind them getting a feel for his size and the features they can't see

u got it!!

~

when michael first encountered you, he was taken aback. strange that he would be the one taken aback, because he’s the one that broke into your house after all.

he didn’t realize that you were blind until he clearly was in your line of sight and you didn’t react. to be honest, he fully intended on killing you once you saw him. but you never did. he stood silently watching you from the shadows, head slowly tilted to the side as he observed you.

hello? you called out. he didn’t answer. he never does.

he came by your house frequently to observe you until you noticed him and befriended him. he allowed it. he didn’t understand why he allowed it, but he did. he even childishly wrote his name in crayon for you to trace the waxy letters with your fingers to learn his name.

michael never felt unsafe. he wasn’t afraid of anything, everything was was afraid of him. but regardless, he felt safe with you. safe from prying eyes trying to study him, pick him apart, figure him out. he remembered how it felt at smith's grove.

that’s why, after a long time of being around each other, when you asked if you could touch him, he didn’t leave. you sensed him still near you, and though you were blind you could see the vague massive shadow you came to know as him still before you. you knew he wouldn’t reply to you. you’d spent enough time around him that you knew this particular silence, along with his continued presence, was his answer.

you reached out and michael watched as your hands touched him. it felt equally as strange to him as it felt to you. when people touched michael they were beating at him, slapping and scratching for their lives. you simply just... touched him. your hands ran up the rough fabric of his jumpsuit. they ran up and over his shoulders, feeling the broadness and firmness there. you knew he was a large man, but this gave you a better understanding of just how large.

your hands retreated back to his chest and then up, slowly, until your fingers caught the seam of his rubber mask. you hesitated only for a moment, waiting for a reaction. none came, so your hands and fingers gently pressed against his mask. you could hear his steady, even breath muffled through the rubber. you could barely reach, but managed to feel the rough matted hair at the top. once you were satisfied you smiled and thanked him.

then you heard him stir, watched the shadow shift, followed by the sound that hair makes against rubber. his breath quieted. may i? you asked quietly. no response, but no denial. cautiously, you reached your hands up until they pressed against his chest again, sliding up to his neck. gentle fingers felt over his angular jaw where he grew short rough stubble, over his cheeks to his high cheekbones. delicately the tips of your fingers went over his eyebrows and michael's eyes fluttered closed. fingers went gently down over his eyelids, careful not to surprise him, feeling the shapes of his eyes. one of your hand’s fingers met bubbled and warped skin that you assumed must be scar tissue. you traveled down his nose and then back up to his hair line where you felt thick but softly curled hair.

the moment that you were finished and took your hands away, you heard the mask go back on and the muffled breathing return.

you continued to smile up at him, thanking him again. he didn't reply.