Michael Myers x Reader |One-Shots|

~Jealousy~

[This was requested by a poor soul on A03 a whole lot ages ago... Well, I finally found time/will/mental condition (?) to write this one-shot and I hope you'll like it. I'm sorry for being so terribly late... I hope this is good enough for you to forgive me.]

WARNING= NSFW (like really, if you're not into rough sex, don't read it), a lot of angst and a little bit of fluff as well.

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-I am in trouble... Oh, I am SO dead! I am so very dead!!- you chanted in your mind, scolding yourself as you frantically searched for the keys in your jeans pockets, an indecipherable rumble of curse words escaping your trembling lips. The keys dropped a couple of times before your shaking hands managed to insert them into the keyhole, not without leaving a few scratches over the wooden door.

You were late, so terribly late! When your friend Y/F/N begged you to help him with schoolwork a little bit after classes, you carelessly accepted, positive that in a few minutes you'd be able to come back home. Oh, but you were so wrong. Two whole hours passed since classes were over and as soon as you noticed you felt your heart begin to race, your blood rushing in your ears. In a blink of an eye, you were out in the streets, running as faster as ever, headed straight home.

You already had the pleasure to face an angry Michael in the past but you managed to get by with only silent scoldings and a bunch of bruises all over your body since you were only a few minutes late. However, you have never been so terribly late before - how would Michael react was beyond you, but something told you that you were going to be punished for good this time. Just the thought of it gave you the chills.

-This is my end. I know it.- you whined, squeezing your eyes shut, your jaw clenching tight.
Placing your hand on the surface of the door, you slowly pushed it open, wide eyes now eyeing the hall; no Michael in sight.
You proceeded by closing the door behind you and stepped forward into the hall, cautiously looking all around you to catch any sign of your boyfriend's presence.
One after another all the ground-floor rooms were scanned; the possibility of being alone in the house wore down part of your tension.

Could it be that Michael was out killing someone perhaps? In such a case then he wouldn't know about your tardiness, would he?

A deep sigh escaped your lips as you bent down on the kitchen table, the grip on your purse loosened and your shaking hands ran through your hair, before resting palms open on the cold marble surface.

How do they say.. "all's well that ends well?"

Oh, but you spoke too soon.

Strong, firm hands grabbed your wrists and moved them on your back, holding them down only with one hand as the other slid to wrap around your neck. One palm pressing on your jugular until your back found his rigid chest.

Michael bent over you, his mask popping up from one side of your face. You struggled to turn your head and look at him, but his grip was so strong it was crippling, allowing you to barely even breathe, let alone move one single muscle.

You heard him sniff you, the sound amplified by his mask. He lingered at your hair, neck, the fabric of your t-shirt.
Your eyes instantly flushed shut in fear, your jaw clenching once again; there was no way his bloodhound's nose couldn't detect your friend's smell on you. Y/F/N hugged you a bunch of times during the day, your clothes must be doused in his cologne.

Michael's sudden angry growl sent a shiver to your whole body.

-Ple.. ase, Mich.. ael..- you choked, struggling to find oxygen, -let me ex..plain-