Slasher x Reader Drabbles & Imagines ||Requests Open||

🔪~Your Valentine~🔪

RZ Michael Myers x Reader

Requested by Anonymous on Tumblr

"Who's going to be your Valentines, Michael?"

Michael stopped what he was doing, looking away from the paper mache project in front of him. His eyes met with yours an unwavering smile nearly blinding the man. So much joy was radiating from you, it made him feel sick to his stomach at the sight– no, not sick. He was feeling butterflies in his stomach.

'Who's going to be his Valentine?' Michael pondered, looking back to his project when your smile became too much for him to bear. Thinking about it now, Michael really only got along with you and occasionally Dr. Loomis.

Without many options, to begin with, Michael decided to answer your question by pointing to you. Surprising you instantly.

"Me?" you muttered pointing to yourself. He nodded his head, without hesitation, a strange nervousness bubbling in his chest. "Well then Michael, I'll gladly be your Valentine." That damned smile was back.

Michael couldn't stand it, especially when he found his own much smaller one creep onto his face.

Valentine's day had come and Michael couldn't get your interaction a few days prior out of his head. All the nurses and doctors around the asylum had been gushing, practically oozing with love as they goaded about what it was they were buying their partners this year.

While the killer never put much thought into the holiday in the past, now he was fretting. Michael knew about Valentine's day and how it was normal to exchange gifts with your Valentine but he never before had to supply his own gift, his mother was always there to supply Michael with boxes of sweets to bring to school. What did he have to give you? He looked around his cell, a blanket, an old sketchbook– and masks, lots and lots of masks. Michael had tons of masks lining the wall all around him.

Swinging his legs off his cot he stood making his way over to one of the four walls completely covered with handmade masks. Something here had to suffice– he thought his fingers running along a few possible choices. In the end, the man decided on an older mask he wore a few times when he was younger.

The thing was crudely made, a relic from his first few trials of mask making. It had a white base color with splotches of red that had muddles with the while to create odd splotches of pink in varying shades around the entirety of the mask. The mask was far from perfect, but it would have to do.

The next day was Valentine's day– and in celebration, the nurses and doctors that were forced to work holidays were meant to supervise a small, special arts and crafts activity.

Everyone, but you, was on edge when Michael stepped into the relatively calm area– tables lined with art supplies greeted Michael along with terrified patients.

"Michael," his head snapped in your direction his fingers curling over the mask in between his fingers. "It's good to see you."

Chains rattled and fell as the guards relieved Michael of his binding watching closely as he huffed and sat down at the nearest empty table. You following behind him. "I go-" you were cut off when Michael shoved the mask in his hands to you. Holding it out as if the thing would burn him if it stayed in his grasp any longer.

Gently you took it into your own hands, your carefulness was something Michael appreciated, you looked the thing over with curiosity and then gratitude. "Is this my Valentine's gift?" you mused chuckling when Michael gave you a nod to confirm what you had said.

"Thank you, Mikey." your word made Michael's shoulders slack in relief, he had been unsure of whether or not you would truly accept the strange gift he had offered you.

Much to the larger man's surprise, you had begun digging in your pocket holding a finger up Michael's way telling him to give you a second. It wasn't long before you produced your own gift. A small but intricately made paper heart. It was perfect, Michael decided as he took the paper in between his fingers, feeling the multitude of textures that came from the different decorations glued on.

Michael's heart throbbed under his chest and just when he thought he couldn't melt any more you had pulled the mask to your face. Sliding it over your head before asking "How do I look?"