#bumper allen x reader

[agaypanic]

Requests Are Open + Announcement

I was thinking of doing this later but i only have 3 requests left and 2 are WIPs, so i feel okay doing this. My inbox is officially opened for requests again! if you've been waiting to send something in, now's your chance to do so! if you want to know what characters/fandoms i write for, and my rules for requesting, you can check that out here

Also, i'm going to be taking some characters off of my writing list! I'm taking these characters off for reasons such as no longer being interested in the character, feeling burnout or repetitiveness from writing for them, or just feeling like I've outgrown them. Here's the list of characters I'm getting rid of:

Stanley Barber (I Am Not Okay With This)

Sydney Novak (I Am Not Okay With This)

Dina (I Am Not Okay With This)

Benny Weir (My Babysitter's A Vampire)

Rory Keaner (My Babysitter's A Vampire)

Ethan Morgan (My Babysitter's A Vampire)

Erica Jones (My Babysitter's A Vampire)

Malcolm Wilkerson (Malcolm in the Middle)

Reese Wilkerson (Malcolm in the Middle)

Francis Wilkerson (Malcolm in the Middle)

Cynthia Sanders (Malcolm in the Middle)

If there's a character on this list that you wanted to request, you can still request them. In fact, I urge you to do so because once I close my requests again, you will most likely never have another chance to request that character from me.

Im also going to be adding some characters to my list! So if anyone from the list below piques your interest, feel free to request them!

JD (Heathers)

Veronica Sawyer (Heathers)

Bumper Allen (Pitch Perfect)

Beca Mitchell (Pitch Perfect)

Liv Moore (iZombie)

James (The End of the F***ing World)

Alyssa (The End of the F***ing World)

I think I'll keep requests open for about a week (closing on 5/8). But it all depends on how many people request, if it's a low number in the first week then I'll keep them open longer. But I'll let you know in advance when I'll be closing requests.

Happy requesting!!!

[toxicanonymity]

The Dark Path (Rock bottom Ch 4)

6k | Corey x Michael, Michael x Reader. NSFW

Something for everyone! Pt. 1: Beefcake Corey pumps iron. Pt. 2: Corey & Michael kill Mulaney. Michael on Corey. Pt. 3: Michael fucks (Y/N). Corey can't contain himself.

Rock Bottom Index - All Chapters

If you don't want gifs, you might wanna read on AO3. Throw me kudos for being a slut while you're at it & subscribe to get the next chapter a lil early.

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Ch 4 Part 1 

Outside (Y/N)’s house, Corey walks around to the backyard.  He bends down to pick up his heavy wrench from the dying grass.  The cold metal slides and clinks into place as he moves.  He imagines what it would have been like to kill the sad sack if Michael hadn't gotten to him first.

He goes to collect his backpack and sees a shape in the  woods.  His heart skips a beat.  It feels like Michael is close.  The shape walks in the opposite direction.  

Corey gets on his motorcycle.   His huge hands make it look like a toy bike from certain angles. He cranks the gas with a twist of his thick wrist. It’s a cold ride, and his large knuckles turn red and white.  

Instead of going home, he rides to the Allen family’s abandoned mansion.  He keeps some things hidden there for whenever he needs to get away from Joan. He puts on clean underclothes and takes a nap before work.

His day goes by in a haze of want. His clothes are clean, but he can still feel the essence of Michael and (Y/N) enrobing his cock.  

-

At work, he's distracted and lets the hood of a Buick slam on his masculine hand.  It doesn’t hurt, but the shock of it makes him yell.  Ronald is worried about him - he's barely been coming home lately.  

Corey is assigned scrap duty for the rest of the day.  He heads behind the shop to their secondary scrapyard with a clipboard.  He trudges through a sea of  cars, most of them with no tires, parked on white granite rocks that gleam and blind him and crunch under his boots.  Hoods are open, doors are off.  A lot of models are from the 90s or 00s but some are older.  He updates the part inventory as he walks. It’s boring.  

Corey prefers challenging manual labor to tedious paperwork.  Being a mechanic lets him use his engineering knowledge and curiosity while getting to touch and explore and fix things. He’s very good with his hands, and his hands are made for the job. 

Doing inventory is mind-numbing.  He has too much pent up energy and has to pass the time.  At the back of the scrapyard, there's a bumper leaning against a 90s Saturn.  He puts his clipboard down on the seat of a picnic table in the shade and takes his sleeves off, tying them around his waist.   His nipples say it's too cold for this, but he doesn't feel it. 

He hauls the bumper on his sculpted shoulder with one massive hand bracing it.  He mounts the table, ass-first and his thighs and groin press up into the fabric of his jumpsuit as he scoots back and stretches out into place.  He lays back and rests the car part on his sturdy chest.  He spreads his thick fingers to get a good grip, then bench presses it.  

His stamina is impressive and it takes a minute to even feel the burn.  It starts in his hard pecs and spreads to his thick arms.  As the bumper grows heavier, he breathes harder, winces, and his feet start to move.   His white undershirt rides up and he can feel the air on his lower abs and V.   He pauses at the top to steady his arms and breathe, his cheeks puffing out with air. He does a few more reps and discards the bumper.

His biceps bulge out of his white sleeves. The sleeves have ridden up to show his paler skin.  He takes a rest then grabs a tire.  The veins in his hands pump.  

He firmly plants his feet in the gravel and sticks his glutes out for proper form. He holds the tire in front, bracing it with his large hands on each side, his hard triceps flexing.  His empty jumpsuit sleeves loosen around his hips as he squats, but the pants are held up by his ass. His quads burn as he digs his boots into ground for leverage and continues squatting. 

From the shop, he hears, "Corey! Lunch is here!" He sets down the tire with a thud and lets it roll away.  It comes to rest against a Ford Bronco. 

Corey pulls on his sleeves and goes to the office.  He devours a footlong meatball sub, holding it with both hands, bracing his elbows on the break room table, his forearms flexing, mouth full, jaw and Adam's Apple moving with each bite. 

He spends the rest of his break in the garage.  He sits with his big legs spread, an elbow braced against his knee and curls a heavy tool box with just three fingers because the handle isn't big enough.  He squints with every bulge of his bicep as he pumps, until he realizes his glasses are fogged and his armpits are damp all the way down the sides of his jumpsuit.  

After lunch, at the back of the scrapyard, he does lunges, holding a tire.  He lunge-walks down a row of cars, turns the corner and comes back through another row.  His jumpsuit strains at the seat each time he comes down.  He keeps going until he feels his lower back sticking to his jumpsuit with cold sweat, potentially drawing attention to his prominent glutes.   

His face is hot.  His curls are damp and matted to his forehead.  A bead of sweat rolls down his thick, tan neck.  He catches his breath and picks up the clipboard again.   

-

After work, Corey goes home and instantly regrets it.  A few days ago when he didn't come home, Joan was beside herself.  This time,  she's unhinged.   Her northern accent intensifies into a monologue that doesn't end until Corey leaves.  

"Who's been taking advantage of my baby boy?! Who?! I can smell her on you, Corey.  She doesn't love you! You know none of them care about you, Corey. You're handsome. You're sensitive.  They should be so lucky.  Your mother loves you, Corey! Come home to your mother! What's happening to my baby boy?!" 

His deep, gruff voice interrupts her painful whine.  "I'M FINE, MA," is all he says.  

"OH MY GOD, COREY, YOUR NECK!"

Corey opens the fridge. 

"OH, COREY, I'm so sorry.  Let me go buy you some chocolate milk! I’ll be right back, you stay right here." She grabs her wallet and nods to herself like that’s going to fix everything.  Then she remembers,  "Oh, you know what? Do you want some custard? There's some custard in the fridge!"  She puts her arms on his hulking back and arms. 

So now boys who keep secrets get custard.  Too little too late. “No thanks, Ma.”  She grabs her keys off the wall, distressed.    

Corey goes upstairs to wash. He plugs the drain and turns on the water.  He looks in the mirror as the bath fills. His jumpsuit hugs his broad shoulders and chest. He peels it off, followed by his soaked undershirt.  His muscles are still pumped up.   His neck is still red from Michael choking him.  

His large fingers graze the marks on his neck.  It turns him on, but he's saving himself, and he can't relax with Joan like this.   (Y/N) hadn't even mentioned his neck.  She must have known.   His eyes well up as her essence fades away in the bath.  Being inside her felt like being sucked by an angel.  They’ve barely explored each other.  The things they could do. 

When Corey pulls the plug to drain the bath, Joan yells right outside the door, "COREY?! Are you alright?!"  

“I’M FINE, MA,” he says again.  He changes into jeans and a button-up shirt.  The stairs rumble as he lets his weight carry him down.    

"I've gotta go, Ma." Joan grabs him and forcefully kisses him on the lips as he leaves.  It's like she's afraid it's the last time she'll see him.  Maybe it will be, he thinks. 

-

Corey picks Allyson up on his motorcycle.  Her small arms wrap around his ample torso.  Part of him would rather feel Michael’s bulky arms, just to know what it’s like to feel small.  

Corey didn’t have a dad growing up.   By the time Joan met Ronald, Corey was becoming a man.  It was all handshakes and pats on the back, an occasional brief hug if he needed one.  He’s never known the true embrace of a man’s strong arms. 

Being close to Allyson reminds Corey of what he likes so much about her.  She has the energy of someone who has lived through hell.  She's experienced Michael Myers in spree killer mode.  It's clear she came away changed in some way.  She must have a dark streak, Corey knows it.  He just has to tease it out.  The tinder is there.  He just needs to light the match.    

Allyson's arms feel good around him. He wants to have her as his own, but he also wants to feel understood.  It’s not possible for Allyson to understand him the way (Y/N) does.  The way he thinks Michael might.  If Corey can tempt Allyson onto the dark path, she’ll understand.  Then he can have it both ways - someone of his own, and someone who understands.   

He  longs to bring Allyson over, but the notion also feels dangerous for Michael, and therefore Corey, thanks to Laurie Strode.  Laurie is Michael's most dangerous predator.  

-

At the diner, Corey pretends to study the menu, but he always gets a cheeseburger and a chocolate milkshake.  What he's really doing is weighing his options with Allyson. 

Aside from the threat of Laurie, monogamy is Corey's other point of hesitation.  He assumes Allyson would expect it.  A few days ago, he would have expected it.  He would have embraced it, loved it.  It was his natural inclination.  But now, he doesn't know if he can help himself.   

It's not just Michael that he wants to stay open to.  The idea of not being with (Y/N) again is physically painful. He's thinking about her more than he expected. Corey still wants Michael to own him – if that's what it takes.  But Corey loves pussy, too.  Why can't he have it all? 

Corey wasn’t like this before, or if he was, he didn’t realize it.  He certainly didn’t act on it.  This uninhibited appetite all started with Michael's hands around his neck.

When Corey first met (Y/N) in 2019, that was almost a year after the botched transfer from Smith’s Grove, so she already knew Michael.  Michael already knew her.  For all Corey knows, she was a choir girl before Michael let her survive. 

Corey decides he'll give Allyson a tour of the dark path, and whether she stays on it is up to her.  He starts by baring his soul as they eat.  He shares enough of his darkness to intrigue her and be truly vulnerable.  His dark eyes fill with genuine tears.

He devours his burger, grease dripping down both of his strong, sculpted hands. He listens to Allyson, and she seems to feel the same.  He sinks his teeth into the despair that underpins her story.  Haddonfield has chewed them up and spit them out.  As he slurps the last of his chocolate milkshake, things seem to be coming together.  

They each have their own reasons, but it seems like he and Allyson want the same thing, in principle: to burn it all down.  Destroy the town that destroyed them.  She may not realize what this looks like to Corey, but it’ll come with time.   He’ll make a bad girl out of her.   

-

When Doug Mulaney tries to start some shit at the diner, Corey knows what he has to do, but he’s tempted to take him on man-to-man right there.  

Corey’s always been equipped to handle himself, but there was a terrible irony. Before the accident, he never really needed to defend himself.   Afterwards, he did, but he couldn’t risk appearing aggressive or even capable of harm.  

Post-accident, he would cower all the time, and when he got bullied or roughed up, he’d take it like a punching bag.  He was afraid of hurting anyone.  It would feel bad and also be the talk of the town.  Things would get even worse for him. 

Physically though, he was always more than capable.  God gave him a sturdy frame, and on top of that, he works out. 

For as long as he can remember, he's been starting his morning with push-ups just to feel the burn in his pecs, then he flips over and brings his fingers to his curly hair and does crunches. 

He has a pull-up bar on his bedroom door.  He can watch an entire episode of the Regular Show while doing pull-ups and chin-ups.  He doesn’t even keep count.  

He likes to feel his shoulders and triceps harden; his biceps and forearms bulge.  He bends his knees and crosses his ankles behind himself to fit in the door frame.  Then, for a different burn in his ample thighs, he brings his legs in front. 

He spends his downtime working out, and  sometimes he doesn't even realize he's doing it. It feels good and it's an escape.  

Doug Mulaney, on the other hand, looks like he probably sits in his patrol car all day.  While Mulaney is eating donuts and writing tickets,  Corey spends his work day lifting heavy objects and using industrial sized tools.  His hands and arms are so powerful that he can lift a tire overhand, palm-down, like a tote bag.  Doug needs a gun to protect himself.  Pussy. 

Corey could absolutely take Doug Mulaney one-on-one, but he has to resist.  He’s been looking for prey to bring Michael, and he found it.  

He drops Allyson off at home.  They share a steamy kiss that makes Corey hard.  She’s obviously keen to get him into bed, but Corey is too focused.  Another dose of the warm and fuzzy hormones will help bring her over where she needs to be, but not right now.   

Ch 4 Part 2

Mulaney makes it too easy by tailing Corey on his way home.  It will take no effort at all to bait him into the lair. At the very least, Corey will get to watch Michael even closer.  If Corey is really lucky, maybe he'll get the (Y/N) treatment - pinned to the wall by Michael's most precious weapon. 

Corey is still trying to wrap his head around Michael as a sexual entity.  If the kill is what turns him on, Corey needs to be the closest person in vicinity when he kills. He parks his bike under the overpass.

Corey baits Mulaney through the encampment and toward the drain and visualizes what the kill will be like.  He reflects on Michael’s last kill - the one he witnessed - and realizes Michael never even stabbed the guy.  It was boss the way he strangled him with the floor lamp, but when he finished him off from arm’s length with a single slash, Michael almost looked bored.  

Watching Michael kill was exhilarating, but watching him really come to life and stab someone, blood splattering on Corey’s neck – the thought of it hardens him more.  With Corey bringing the prey, surely Michael will let him participate in the kill.  

Mulaney follows Corey through the sewer, into the cavern, searching with his flashlight and taunting Corey out loud.  The bright light lands on devious Corey. 

Michael emerges from the shadows but doesn’t pounce.  He looks feeble, almost confused, like Corey is interrupting his nap.  Or maybe, he's letting Corey take the lead. 

Corey has never felt so alive as he prepares to slash with Michael.  He weakens and disorients Mulaney, incurring only a bloody nose and mouth in the process.  He’s tempted to go all-in, but it's Michael’s turn.  Michael moves slowly.  Corey can’t wait to see him work. 

Michael’s shrunken posture makes Corey look even larger.  He urges, "Get up, get up, GET UP!"  Michael pulls a rusted knife from the wall and  Corey's body tingles with anticipation from his nipples to his groin.  "Show me how," he says.  "I need you to show me!" There are so many things he wants Michael to show him.  

Michael swings.  Mulaney stumbles back against Corey's broad chest.  They fall to the ground, Mulaney’s weight spread across Corey’s sturdy body.  Michael lunges toward them.  Corey curls his big arms under Mulaney's, which are thin in comparison.  He braces for impact, breathing heavily as he watches the Shape’s every move.  

Michael wields the old rusted knife like a dagger.  He raises the blade then plunges it into Mulaney's chest.   Corey feels the tense body relax into dead weight in his arms.  Corey breathes heavily and rapidly, spellbound.  He doesn't take his eyes off Michael as the blood drains from their prey. Michael yanks out the knife, splattering blood across Corey's face.  His arousal swells.

Something comes over Michael.  He tenses and adjusts his grip on the knife. The black holes of the mask seem to look into Corey like the first time they met.  Corey understands. 

He braces Mulaney against his chest, and Michael thrusts the blade into him again.  And again.  Corey's eyes follow the blade.  He savors the vantage point of Michael shafting into him.  It has the same energy as Michael’s final thrusts into (Y/N).  Every time Michael plunges the blade into Mulaney, Corey's solar plexus shoots rays of pleasure into his whole body. He could not imagine a more erotic experience.  

Michael takes one step back and slowly stands up straight.   Corey lets go of Mulaney and the dead weight slumps to the ground.  Corey's jeans tighten with desire.  His ass tingles.  His chest heaves and he wipes saliva and blood from the corners of his mouth as he watches Michael.  Corey's cock is throbbing.  

Michael rolls his shoulders back and seems to reach an even darker frequency.  Corey's eyes gravitate to Michael's crotch, which appears to bulge, just as Corey expected.  It's not just his crotch, though.  His muscles appear to pump, too.   

Michael's arms and shoulders flex and he begins to quiver with energy.  The tired old man from moments ago is a distant memory.  Corey takes in Michael's entire form.   His sculpted arms are visible through his sleeves.  The stabbing has reanimated his truest self. 

Corey aches to be filled. There's a space deep in his core that can only be filled by Michael.  He flattens his massive hand against his clothed erection and winces while he waits for Michael's next move.  The base of his shaft contracts and a wave of pleasure blooms deep in his core. He's afraid he might come in his pants, but he's not ready. 

The last time Corey was in the sewer, the mask penetrated his eyes.  Michael injected something intangible and indescribable into him that day.   Corey, who was on the verge of disappearing, was transformed instead.  Now he’s dying for Michael to penetrate him deeper. Turn him darker, freer.  He can almost feel it happening.  

Michael turns his head slightly.  The fingers of his free hand twitch.   Corey tries not to take his eyes off Michael as he begins to unfasten his own belt, thrusting into his own wide wrist as he does it.  He's so hard.  

Michael steps closer.  His breath is loud behind the mask.  He raises the knife. Corey reflexively scrambles to his feet and  backs away until his back is flat against the wall.  His unbuttoned jeans are held up only by the excruciating swell in his briefs. Michael raises the knife to Corey's sculpted throat and closes the distance between them. 

Michael presses the side of the cold metal blade against Corey's thick neck, from his Adam's Apple to his jaw.  It’s angled upward, with Michael’s large, leathered hand near Corey’s ear.  The blade follows the hickey-like bruises from Michael's fingers.  Michael takes a final step, and his foot is between Corey's feet.  

Michael's sturdy thigh presses into Corey’s rock-hard, pulsating arousal.  Corey can't help but thrust against him.  Michael presses the knife harder against Corey’s throat, making him cough.  

Corey feels something move against the bottom right edge of his abs.  He's overcome with arousal to realize it’s Michael's cock, straining the leg of his jumpsuit, spanning from Corey’s lower abs to his thigh.  It's thick and hard, like a warm lead pipe.  Corey thrusts his aching bulge into Michael's thigh and Michael further presses the blade. 

Corey feels a sharp pang of pleasure in his taint.  He dares to grind his hip into Michael's engorged length, but Michael presses his own hip swiftly and firmly against Corey so he can no longer move. Corey is aching for relief. If he hadn't come so much in the past day or so, he's certain the sight of Michael's bulging jumpsuit would have made him come already.  

Michael shows no signs of wanting his own release.  Maybe it’s true what she said, that Michael loves pussy, but that doesn’t mean anything, because so does Corey.  And what’s more, here’s Michael pressing an enormous erection into Corey’s body. 

Corey tries again to press his body into Michael’s arousal.  He wants to feel its warmth, feel it move.  Michael’s hardness grows and his body stiffens further.  Corey tilts his pelvis in a few small pulses to create friction and stimulate himself.  His pre-cum soaks through Michael's jumpsuit.

A car horn blares outside.  Michael looks down and away then relaxes the knife slightly, but keeps it against Corey’s skin. With the knife relaxed, Corey gasps and catches his breath. 

Michael steps back, separating his jumpsuit from Corey's jeans and observes the wet spots on both of them.  Then Michael looks away slightly.  Something is distracting him.  He sniffs the air. 

-

Dread sets in.  What was Corey thinking?  Michael let him live and was letting him get close.  He trusted Corey, and Corey betrayed him.  He must know it.  Michael growls almost imperceptibly, as though in agreement, and steps back into him.  

Corey feels the blade of the knife rotate and dig in beneath his jaw.  Michael could kill him with the flick of his wrist, but he holds it steady. Then, the sharp blade begins to drag slowly, very slowly, but lightly, along Corey's jaw.   Corey feels a hot, thin line of blood separate into multiple narrow streams and stream down his neck.  This is real.  

Corey pleads "no, no, no, not yet" and grinds into Michael’s hard-on as though to show what he can offer.  He wants to become one with Michael before he dies. 

Michael pauses.  

A knock on the drain pipe echoes through the cavern.  Michael jerks the blade, slicing Corey's neck as he flings the knife across the cave. Blood oozes out of the slit.  It's more than a trickle but doesn't gush. It missed the jugular. 

(Y/N)’s voice echoes through the drain pipe.  “Are you in there?” 

Michael releases him.  Without looking back, Michael walks with a purposeful, upright stride to the drainage pipe, then drops to his knees and gets in.  It’s the first time he’s seen Michael on his knees, which does something to him.  Michael’s lumberjack body fills the drain more than Corey’s, despite Corey’s broad, muscular stature.  

Corey suddenly feels cold and unclothed without Michael against him.   He listens to the echo of huge, heavy knees on the metal as Michael exits the drain.  

Ch 4 Part 3

Rather than follow Michael out of the drain, Corey quickly fastens his belt and tiptoes across the cavern.  He hides in a crevasse. Water plinks down from the ceiling.  His hard-on is still raging.  He’s so high on the kill that he wonders if he’s dead.  He can’t believe how well this night has gone, even with blood running down his neck.  

Corey killed with Michael.  He awakened a higher energy in Michael.  It’s nothing compared to the transformation Michael gave Corey, but returning the favor to some small degree makes Corey feel even closer to Michael.   Michael not only choked him tonight, but sliced him.  Then, astoundingly, pressed his warm, lethal cock against his body.  

Corey was lucky.  Michael may not have sensed his betrayal after all.  The  sense of relief dissuades him from pressing his luck any further tonight.  He shouldn’t have gotten greedy.  He can always see if things escalate next time.  Before things go south, he needs to leave.   

- 

Corey can’t exit through the main pipe or he might run into them.  He doesn’t know what (Y/N) would do or say.  He’s almost more afraid of her reaction than Michael’s.  If she can’t play it cool, Michael will know.  

Corey surveys the dark cave for any sign of another exit and makes his way down the main hall, pressing his wrist against his zipper against his aching want.  He considers stopping to jerk off but doesn’t. 

He walks quietly but briskly to the end of the cave.  He approaches the area with Mulaney on the ground.  It looks like a dead end, but once he’s all the way at the wall, a very faint, dusty beam of light catches his eye to the right.  He goes through the crevasse with the soft blue light, and sees that it’s a grate up above, not an exit. 

Moonlight shines down through the squares above, illuminating a  round room.  There’s a fire pit and a huge, iron spit in the middle. Bones are stacked up around the edge of the room.  It’s like a catacomb.  Many of them look old, almost dry, but a few look fresh with bits of tendon clinging onto them.  Corey walks around the perimeter.  There’s a bone saw against the rock wall and a tin of matchbooks.   

He approaches the middle of the room.  The fire pit is round and made of smooth, pale stones.  The spit has scraps of burned meat stuck to it.  Corey steps closer.  It smells like barbecue. He looks down into the fire pit.  Those aren’t rocks, they’re human skulls.  The blood drains from Corey’s face.  His heart races and he stumbles backwards but catches himself.  This is Michael’s Ossuary and Grill. 

Thumping and dragging noises begin to echo from the drain pipe.  The thumps are irregular.   A faint light  begins to bounce around the cave.  Corey scrambles to find somewhere to hide as the thumps get louder.  He finds a nook between the ossuary and another room in the cavern.   He can still see into the ossuary.  He hopes the ossuary can’t see into him.  The echoing thumps stop. 

The artificial light brightens. Footsteps start, and the light moves in rhythm with the steps.    There are two sets of footsteps.   She asks, “Should I call it in?” Silence.  Footsteps.   Her voice is getting closer.   “Okay.  Hey, it’s okay. I just wish I knew who killed Nelson.”  The vagabond, Corey realizes.  He’s lying dead with a flashlight right outside the tent. That was part of his trap for Mulaney. 

The lighter footsteps stop.  “Wait, there’s already someone here,” she says.  Corey’s heart races and he holds his breath.  He can’t see them. He doesn’t know how she knows. Maybe she heard him breathing.  Shoes scuff the ground and there’s a rustling sound.  

“DOUG MULANEY? Jesus Christ, Michael.” Michael never stops walking.  “I don’t even know what to say.” Corey exhales.  The lighter footsteps quicken to catch up.   "Did he find you?" They're very close. 

Corey can see two shapes enter the ossuary, the huge one carrying another figure over its shoulder.  Michael's breath is audible.  There's a rustling and a loud thump.  Duct tape rips off loudly, echoing through the cavern.   Corey tries not to look, lest their light catch the reflection of his eyes.  The light turns off.  

He hears the snap of a match and the wind of a flame.  A whoosh followed by crackling.  The ossuary is gradually illuminated with a warm, flickering, orange light.  It’s quiet for a minute.  Too quiet for Corey to move. The warmth of the fire barely reaches Corey but is welcome.  The room starts to smell like barbecue. 

***

(Y/N) is sitting on the ground against the wall, catching her breath.  Out of view, there’s a drag of metal on rock, probably the bone saw.  She groans in disgust.  "Yeah, think you’ve got this,” she says. “I should get going.”  

The saw clatters to the ground.  Heavy footsteps cross the room.  Michael bends down and grabs her by the throat, then drops to his knees in front of her.  He still towers over her, even with his knees spread over her legs. He doesn’t pick her up.  Instead, he uses his other hand to jerk her toward him.  With the hand around her throat, he forces her back onto the ground. 

She chokes as he drags her closer, by the throat.  Her torso comes to a stop between Michael’s knees.   She manages to sit up on her elbows.  She reaches out hesitantly, like she’s trying to catch a wild animal.  Michael lets her touch his chest.  His grip loosens and she gasps for air. 

He sits back on his gargantuan haunches, which puts his clothed erection against her yoga pants.   She gasps and looks straight ahead.  The blood drains from her face.  She reaches for his crotch as if her eyes deceive her.  She runs her hand down the fabric, feeling his entire length.  It must be the size of her forearm.  

“Holy shit,” she says.  Corey wonders if he's responsible for Michael's enhanced arousal.  Blood rushes to his groin. 

Michael cages her to the ground and yanks down her yoga pants.  She looks apprehensive.  She reaches for Michael’s chest.  His hand snatches hers and brings it just below his upturned collar.  

He slowly pulls down his zipper with her little hand.  Corey's heart races.  She tries to stop it but is no match for his strength.  He grabs the sides of his upturned collar and thrusts his massive chest forward. The collar and jumpsuit fall back and a more precise silhouette of his back and arms emerge.  He lets the long sleeves hang to his sides.

The firelight isn’t great, and the angle isn’t perfect,  but from what Corey can see, Michael wears a dark, almost too-small t-shirt.  His muscles are utterly unreasonable.  His arms are the size of her thighs.   

Corey looks around frantically but doesn’t find a better view.  He desperately wants to see everything, but this is also his best chance to escape. 

Michael's expansive back and empty sleeves obstruct the view of his crotch, but his back in itself is a vision, even under the dark t-shirt.  He yanks the rest of her pants off and nudges her legs open with a giant knee, making space for himself.  

Finally, Corey catches a glimpse of that monster cock.  It’s commanding. Michael lowers himself over her before he can see it in more detail.  She moans at the feeling of his naked girth hard against her.   She rolls her hips.  She must be so wet. But as Michael begins to position himself for entry, she begs, “please," she squirms, "it’s too much.”  

Corey reaches for his pants and palms himself desperately with his massive hand.  He shifts slightly toward the exit of his nook just in time to see her back arch as Michael shoves himself into her.   She groans loudly and his enormous hand grabs her throat. His hulking muscles move gracefully under his shirt as he begins to fuck her.  Corey can’t pull himself away. 

Michael pushes slowly at first, like he’s letting her accommodate his even larger-than-usual size.   She cries and paws at his chest.  Every thrust is so powerful.   Her legs are spread wide with her knees up.  Michael never takes off his mask. 

Her face hotly twists in pain.  He persists.  With time, her cries turn into soft moans and occasional gasps.  She reaches up to his chest as she stares into the mask holes.  His large hand swallows hers.  They’re both sweating by the fireside as Michael's hips powerfully meet hers again and again.  

Corey tries to ground himself.   If he has any hope of moving things forward, he must make it out of this cave tonight.  He backs away slowly.  His arousal aches terribly, but he can’t indulge it, not right now.  He needs his wits about him.  

Michael just barely grunts, and it stops Corey in his tracks.  It’s the hottest sound he never thought he’d hear.  He steps back to where he was.  He has to watch, come what may.  He makes himself a deal.  He can stay a few minutes if he doesn’t touch himself.  Corey wants Michael, but he also wants to be Michael inside of her.

Michael grabs her hips and pulls her into him harder.  Her feet come into the air and wrap loosely around him.  Her legs are so small against Michael’s body. His rhythm quickens and he leans down closer.    

Michael’s arms glisten and bulge out of his short sleeves. His strong forearms slide under her.  With an emphatic thrust, he pulls her against him and scoops her up.  He sits back on his haunches and holds her tight against himself.  He grips her by the waist with her legs draped over his hips and continues to pound into her cunt. 

He moves her rhythmically against his lap, jamming her down around his cock every time he thrusts.  Her feet stick out behind him and bounce in the air each time she comes down on his shaft.  She gasps throatily.  Michael’s hands dwarf her. She looks like a doll getting bounced around.  Michael breathes heavily and wraps his arms tighter.  

Corey wants to fuck her like that.  He also wants Michael to wrap his arms around him like that.  He feels pre-cum seeping into his jeans.  His cock twitches desperately.  

Michael moves his hands to her ass and she hangs on around his broad neck, her arms grazing the bottom of his mask.  He pulls back his speed, fucking her slower but with just as much power and pipe.  After a minute, he slides his hands up her sides to her armpits.  His thumbs cross her nipples, palms engulfing her breasts.  He brings her down hard on his cock and Michael Myers audibly moans.  

It’s too much for Corey.  He brings his wrist down to his pants, unsure if he’s trying to stop it or get it over with.  At the slightest friction, his cock empties itself in dramatic pulses.  It feels like it happens in slow motion.  A small gasp escapes his mouth. 

She looks in Corey’s direction and her eyes widen just as he steps out of view.  Michael keeps fucking her, unaware.  Corey's heart pounds. His briefs feel full and warm. 

-

It’s a challenge for Corey to move quietly. He's a big, burly guy.  Every step he takes is heavy.  He tries his best to silently slink  toward the drain pipe.  Sounds of animalistic fucking echoing through the cavern, masking his footsteps.  

He hears breathing. Groaning. Rubber soles squeaking against wet rock.  Fabric scraping the ground.  She wails, he grunts.  

Corey reaches the pipe and gently crawls into it.   He goes very slowly, one big knee at a time, his large, filthy hands spread out in front of him.   His knuckles are white.  Moonlight is visible ahead.  In the distance, behind him, he hears a whine, a choke, a slap, and a scream. 

Then, he hears traffic from the overpass and feels cool, fresh air against his face. Just a little further and he steps out of the tunnel and collects himself.  He uses his massive palms to brush off his knees. He jogs out of view of the drain.  He sees the red truck, and has the passing urge to get inside and wait for (Y/N).  But after such a close call, he's committed to not sabotaging himself, at least for now. She'll be sore anyway.  

Continue with CHAPTER 5

______________________________________________

[plus-size-reader]

Rivalry

Bumper Allen x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1048 words

Warnings: Lil ansty?

Summary: Being Bumper's girlfriend and him being surprised when you audition for the Bellas

——————————————————————————————————

You could hardly breathe as you looked out around side stage, out into the small crowd of longstanding acapella groups.

Right there, toward the back of the auditorium was Bumper and the Trebles.

You figured that he would be here, with this being his thing and all, but you were sort of hoping you’d be able to figure this out without him seeing.

You didn’t even tell Bumper about your audition this morning but it wasn’t exactly like you had a choice.

In all the time that you two had been together, he was constantly talking about how much he despised the Bellas and how ridiculous they were. There was nothing you could do to change that.

In the world of Acapella, they were literal rivals and you knew better than to try and remedy that.

Instead, you decided to just keep your singing talent to yourself. It was his thing, and you were okay with that, for the most part. Recently, you’d realized that there was an opening with the Bellas.

This year, they were making changes and you wanted to be a part of it.

Bumper was just going to have to deal with that.

Besides, just because you auditioned, didn’t mean that you’d get in. All you were doing was taking a chance and you expected him to accept that. It was all you could do.

In years past, you never thought you’d be able to even audition for them. Traditionally, they didn’t let in girls like you but that was changing now.

You had a real shot, and you weren’t going to waste it.

All you had to do was hope that Bumper would be able to get over it.

The audition song they’d settled on was ‘Since you’ve been gone’ by Kelly Clarkson, a song that you all knew by heart at this point in your lives. It may not have been your first choice but you were going to try nonetheless.

You just had to do it.

It was now or never.

You took a deep breath, swallowed the doubt in your throat, and made up your mind. You were going to do this, and whatever happened after, you would deal with it.

The room was silent as you walked out onto the stage, ready to make their decisions about you. However, there was another reason for their silence that you decided not to think about.

Everyone knew that you and Bumper were a couple, and that was going to create quite the problem if you got accepted into another rival group. You just hoped Aubrey would give you a chance anyway.

It wasn’t lost on you that he wasn’t exactly her favorite person.

...But as soon as you started to sing, all that faded away.

Your voice spoke for itself, and it was good. As much as she hated Bumper, Audrey knew that she couldn’t just pass you up, especially not with the current state of the Bellas.

She needed all the help she could get, and you would certainly do the trick in that department.

As it would turn out though, the audition part was never the problem. What you were really dreading was afterwards, when you would have to face Bumper over what you’d done.

Luckily, you felt so good after it was over that you forgot about that part for a couple minutes.

It wasn’t until he was in front of you that you had to actually reconcile with that.

“What was that?” he asked, not even bothering to take his feet down from the seat in front of him as he looked at you. Of all the things he could have seen you doing today, this wouldn’t have even cracked the top fifty.

...But here you were.

“Come on Bump, it’s not that big of a deal” you shrugged, hoping he would just move on. Really, it wasn’t the most important thing you were ever going to do.

You just wanted to sing a little and have some fun.

“Not that big of a deal? How is this not that big of a deal?” he gasped, shocked that you would even dare to say that to him. Acapella was his life, the only thing he cared about, and you had betrayed him.

To Bumper, this was the worst thing you could have done.

It was the ultimate betrayal.

“It’s just a club, I didn’t think it mattered” you shrugged, though that was partially a lie. You had a not so subtle suspicion that Bumper would have a problem with it from the very start.

...But you couldn’t change it now.

You had already auditioned and you thought it went pretty well. If you happened to make it in, you weren’t going to pass it up just because Bumper didn’t like them.

“Yeah, well, it does. You can’t be a Bella and my girlfriend” he huffed, crossing his arms across his chest like he often would when he was upset.

Usually though, he only did that when there was no more chocolate froyo in the cafeteria or when he dropped the much inferior vanilla froyo on his walk back to his building.

You’d never gotten into a real argument like this, but you weren’t going to just back down. You wanted to be a Bella and as your boyfriend, Bumper should have supported that.

What you shared should have been far more important than some old rivalry.

Until now, you thought it was.

“Well I guess you’re gonna have to get a new girlfriend because I’m not giving this up” you sighed, turning away as quickly as you could away from him.

At times like this, you hated Bumper for acting like this. You were there for him all the time but when you finally needed him to just be supportive, he couldn't do that.

You were tired of it.

Right now, all you wanted to do was go get some coffee or something while you waited for them to get back to you.

It would be good for you and Bumper to get a little bit of space, besides, he had things to do. The Trebles had initiates to and nothing could happen without his say so.

That had to be his priority, because you certainly weren’t.

[thomasreedtn]

Loose Ends, New Year: Mercury Retrograde in January 2017

Happy 2017! I hope you’re all enjoying the shift from a “9” year of completions into a “1” year of new beginnings. It’s a little more fluid than that due to Mercury Retrograde still in effect until January 8th, and then with its decreasing shadow period for awhile afterwards. As with any external energy influence, you can align your attitude and tasks with the energies in order to create more ease and flow in your own experience. Traditional advice says, “Don’t make contracts or start anything new in a Mercury Retrograde period,” but it all depends on how you embrace or resist those influences. In my own life, I’ve continued tying up loose ends since December 19th, including “tying the Celtic Knot on Yule,” which David and I consciously chose for both the return to light aspect and for the sense of completion at this level of our spiral journey together.

Permaculture Design Certification

Some readers might also recall that I began my Permaculture Design Certification way back in 2015, shortly before the opportunity to rent the house next door appeared. That creative expansion added many exciting and busy months to my completion of Permaculture Education’s excellent online course, including another yard to begin designing and sheet mulching, but I fully planned to finish my coursework and final project by February 2016. I did finish all the coursework, but a commissioned portal painting, house guests, and the sudden and unexpected eight week whirlwind in Pennsylvania caring for my father in his last weeks and then moving my mom into her new life in a new home and getting their old house ready for sale meant another huge delay.

Those two months in Pennsylvania borrowed energy from the next five months, which also coincided with garden season and some much needed getaways with David. We had a lovely summer and fall! I wouldn’t change a thing, but I primarily needed to rest, recharge and renew. Tackling a major left and right brain final project while also gardening, processing bumper crops, and doing intense phone sessions just seemed like it would push me over the edge. I might have been able to complete the project then, but not to my own standards, and it would have felt like a burden rather than an accomplishment. As my June 2016 deadline neared, I requested more time.

Dr. Alan Enzo at http://permacultureeducation.com was kind enough to extend the usual year’s time for course completion due to the exceptional circumstances of my 2016, and I’m so glad I waited until I could again enjoy preparing the final project, as it was a lot of work. I used our yard and both houses as the permaculture project, and I took the opportunity to “stack functions” by beginning to learn the software program Scrivener while writing the text portion of my project. (I’ll do a separate post on Scrivener once I have a better handle on the software, but I found it invaluable for creating and organizing a complex and many-layered recap of all the moving parts and functions of our growing permaculture haven.) I promised myself I would complete this PDC final project in 2016, and I managed to submit both final text and design drawing on New Year’s Eve day:

The actual file is quite large and involved, with over twenty pages of text exploring and explaining the coded drawing, but this 11 x 14″ sketch gives you some idea of the project’s scope. I won’t receive my grade and actual certification for about two more weeks, as a group of people analyze the drawing and text, but along with helping my father peacefully pass into the next world and leveraging my mother into her thriving new life, I consider finishing this PDC course one of my biggest accomplishments of 2016. Right under the wire!

Kalamazoo New Year’s Eve Festival

Later that afternoon, David and I drove up to Kalamazoo, Michigan to for another mini-honeymoon at the downtown Radisson. We love Kalamazoo with its hugely creative populace, ample vegan and vegetarian food options, and the sense of community; however, we had no idea how amazing we’d find their 30th annual New Year’s Eve Festival. The Radisson included buttons to access all the downtown events: concerts across all sorts of venues, food, fun for kids of all ages, fireworks and a ball drop at midnight. Unsure of the weather, we had bought backup tickets to some concerts at Bell’s Eccentric Cafe (a concert venue for the famous Bell’s Brewery), but we were so blown away by the talent and whimsy of the downtown concerts that we only spent about a half hour at Bell’s.

We explored the historic Ladies Library Association, where all the volunteers dressed in Victorian garb amidst stained glass windows and old books. David snapped this shot of me reading a Maurice Sendak book I found on the shelf while awaiting Kalamazoo’s Mandolin and Guitar Orchestra. He’s been playing with filters, so my hair looks much redder than usual — even more than it does in bright sunshine — and my black onyx necklace looks white; however, this photo gives you a sense of the magical storybook feel of the place. My faery combat boots worked well with the Victorian theme!

We learned during the concert that the Kalamazoo Ladies Library Association is the oldest building in the United States continually owned and operated by women — a landmark since 1871. Also, the original Mandolin and Guitar Orchestra had played on that very same stage a hundred years ago, and the library maintains a photo of that event, which made Saturday night’s concert extra special and time warp-y.

Next, we made our way to the Baptist Church, which we had noticed over Thanksgiving weekend on a Kalamazoo trip with my mom. From the outside, the all white and blue building looks more like it belongs in Greece, so David and I were keen to get a look inside. What better opportunity than hearing traditional Irish music on New Year’s Eve? Below, you can see some of the Gothic sanctuary and organ, along with the band, “Whiskey Before Breakfast.” The music was fun, but we both agreed that the best part of the show was a three-year-old audience member jigging and rockin’ out on the balcony. That little guy loved the music even more than I did, and his pure exuberance delighted many:

Another unexpected highlight for us came right after the Irish music that also featured some lovely poetry by (Scottish) Robert Burns. We decided to stay for the next act, a NYC band called “The Founders,” which featured a Kalamazoo native on trumpet and piano, along with a violinist and bassist. They described themselves as eclectic and classically trained, so we had no idea what to expect. Oh. My. Goodness. Were we in for a treat!

We sat spellbound as this talented trio played Bach’s Agnes Dei “as though Bach grew up in New Orleans.” In other songs, the songwriter violinist sang while playing violin, and he also recited Edgar Allen Poe’s “The Bells” poem very fast, very dramatically to original background music — a Kalamazoo nod and wink to that famous Bell’s we would head to next. They created their own unique fusion covers of the Beatles, Radiohead and more. David and left the concert in silence, literally stunned by such unusual and delightful talent that brought old to new and back again.

We did head to Bell’s for awhile but towards midnight decided to make our way back to Bronson Park to check out the ball drop and fireworks. I have not been to a ball drop on New Year’s Eve since I went to NYC in 1994, so that was another cycle bringing old into new. Normally, fireworks bother me, but between earplugs, a cozy hat with ear flaps and pure joy, I did fine this time. They put on quite a show: we kept saying, “OK, this must be the finale.” But wait … there’s more! In total, the fireworks lasted a little over fifteen minutes, and they were truly spectacular. It was so great to watch such a diverse group of people of all ages having fun and celebrating together.

All those walks through the cold worked up an appetite, since we had finished our veggie sushi dinner over six hours ago. Where, oh where, would we find food we could eat at this hour?! Well, it turned out we found food about 10 feet away at the Gorilla Gourmet food truck, which offered curried carrot soup after midnight. Seriously? Back in my pre-brain-injury sales job days, I used to plan business trips around a chef friend’s curried carrot soup offering on Tuesdays. I’ve not had one that good since. Until this one. Holy yum! David also got a veggie quesadilla (not vegan, but with homemade slaw and total yum), so we settled into 2017 with big smiles, new takes on blasts from the past, and very happy bellies.

New Year’s Day on the Kal-Haven Trail

The next morning, we slept in, checked out, and headed over to The Crow’s Nest, one of our favorite vegan friendly restaurants in Kalamazoo, which just happened to be open on New Year’s Day. (OK, I did a literal happy dance when I found out they were open.) It turned out I was not the only happy dancing would-be eater. The line stretched all the way down the stairs, out the door, and halfway down the block. And that was just to turn in your name to get on the list. After awhile, we noticed people in line drinking coffee and eating bagels and pastries while they waited. As we traced the trail, we discovered a nearby bagel shop, where we got tea and bagels instead. Yum! Plus, we finished within fifteen minutes instead of the estimated hour and a half to two hours for The Crow’s Nest.

We had chosen Kalamazoo for New Year’s as part of our intending for 2017, and we wanted more nature than waiting. After bagels, we drove to the Kal-Haven Trail, covered in deep snow at this time of year, but an actual connection bike route between Kalamazoon and South Haven, right on Lake Michigan. We enjoyed the fresh air, crisp whiteness, as well as all the friendly dog walkers and doggies. David snapped some photos along the way:

Still Revising and Reclaiming in the Tail End of Mercury Retrograde

Yesterday brought several more very long cycles to completion, with the arrival of author Mike Clelland‘s completed draft of the chapter on me to be included in his follow-up book to “The Messengers,” which I reviewed here. This marked the end of a year and a half of story sharing, questions, answers, writing and revisions, and it involves owl synchronicities that go back to 2010, 2006, 2002, and 1998. More than that, Mike’s chapter explores events I have never publicly shared — events dating back to 1987, which completed in this past 29-year Saturn Return Cycle of the 2016 time I spent in Pennsylvania. Tremendous healing occurred through emailing and telling the stories to Mike, as well as in his reworking them into something suitable for a single chapter in a book that explores many other owl synchronicities, UFO’s and paranomal experiences.

Mike Clelland is a rare bird. Probably an owl, LOL, but seriously, if he’s put anywhere near the time, attention and compassionate truth seeking efforts into the other dozen chapters of this new book, it promises to be a quiet and potent tribute to the Mystery with a capital M, as well as a huge catharsis for many healers and experiencers. The back and forth correspondence included so many synchronicities that Mike needed to stop collecting new information and only work with a sliver of the old, but highlights occurred when each draft section arrived as I was either sitting with or on the phone with someone else involved in that part of the story.

Many behind the scenes conversations discussed details of my 2010 divorce, during which owl synchronicities ramped up very high … so I processed the surreal nature of my previous marriage and that magical and Divine intervention divorce time in a deeper, final closure kind of way, just as I was synchronously planning my Winter Solstice marriage to David. Some very cool sync winks that did not make it into the final draft included my friend Karen walking in nature as David and I were getting married and finishing right at my birthday time stamp, and Karen suddenly feeling a powerful sense of love and blessing flow from her and her animal friends to us. Then, she heard a great horned owl hoot at 5:55, which according to Doreen Virtue’s Angel Numbers 101, means “Huge changes are rumbling throughout your entire life!” Hundreds of miles away, David and I also noted the clock at 5:55, as we drove to dinner, expressing our sense of huge change and blessings.

Karen’s text about the owl came through the next morning, right after I sent her the marriage photo of us with my birthday time stamp. Later that afternoon, I got excited texts from my mom about finding beautiful, unusual feathers on her driveway on her way out for a walk. My mom felt certain these were owl feathers and took them as a huge sign of blessing on our marriage. Mike asked for a photo of the feathers so he could definitively identify those, but by the time my mom got back home, the feathers had blown away. She started to doubt herself, but we have both had so many owl synchronicities related to my birthday or to big changes in my life that we figured they “probably” were owl feathers.

The next morning I received a very excited text from my mom that she had been awakened by “unmistakable” and “oh, so comforting” owl hoots that morning. I researched the exact calls she described and found the cry followed by three hoots to be the sounds exchanged between mated male and female great horned owls. This mysterious synchronicity provided such a beautiful and happy ending to a long and winding 29-year journey. As we move through this final week of Mercury Retrograde and into the freshness of a universal “1” year, I feel so grateful, blessed and awed by all that has transpired. I feel my own Neverending Story pulsing through life, and I look forward to the next sequence, tale and characters.

Wishing all of you a magical and mysterious 2017!

      from Thomas Reed https://laurabruno.wordpress.com/2017/01/04/loose-ends-new-year-mercury-retrograde-in-january-2017/

[agaypanic]

if you think a different character (that i write for) would fit better, comment them down below. the max amount of days a character can have is 3. if you wanna know what characters im willing to write for kinktober, i'll list them here:

What We Do In The Shadows: Nandor the Relentless, Laszlo Cravensworth, Nadja of Antipaxos, Guillermo de la Cruz

Hot Fuzz: Nicholas Angel

That 70's Show: Jackie Burkhart, Eric Forman, Steven Hyde, Michael Kelso

Jurassic Park: Alan Grant, Ellie Sattler, Ian Malcolm

Scott Pilgrim: Gideon Graves

iZombie: Ravi Chakrabarti, Liv Moore

Five Nights At Freddy's: Mike Schmidt

Twilight: Charlie Swan, Carlisle Cullen, Emmett Cullen

Saltburn: Felix Catton, Oliver Quick, Farleigh Start

Ghostbusters: Ray Stantz, Egon Spengler

Mean Girls: Regina George

Heathers: J.D., Veronica Sawyer

Pitch Perfect: Bumper Allen, Beca Mitchell

The End of the F***ing World: James, Alyssa Foley

[agaypanic]

My Request Rules + Character List

My inbox is currently CLOSED for requests

Masterlist | AO3 | Ko-fi | Spotify | Character.ai

If you’d like to be notified about future works, you can send me an ask or comment saying what characters/fandoms you want to be notified for and I’ll add you to the tag list for it!

RULES

Please only request through my ask box! Requesting through my messages will be ignored/deleted

I only write x readers, no character x character

If there’s a character that I’ve written for that’s no longer on this list, please don’t request something with that character. The list is always up to date so if they’re not on the list anymore, I no longer write for them

If my inbox is closed for requests, do not send me a request. if i get a request while my inbox is closed, the request gets deleted without any notice. if you try to send the request again while i'm not accepting anything, you will be blocked

If not specified, the reader will be fem/afab! Exceptions are pronoun usage in the request (referring to reader as “they”, “he”, etc) and canon sexuality of the character the reader’s being paired with (if the character’s a gay guy, the reader will be male)

I have the right to not want to fulfill a request that makes me uncomfortable in any way (i rarely reject requests, but some people are weird)

I WILL NOT WRITE

incest

throuples/threesomes that involve siblings

someone explicitly having an ED

someone dealing with SH

a scenario involving hospitalization or crazy/freak accidents

major character death (unless the character is an asshole/antagonist)

I'm not comfortable with writing about these topics, so any requests with them will be deleted without any notice and i will block you. (if you have an idea for a request but don't know if i'd accept it, ask me how i feel about the specific scenario. if im ok with it then you can send in the full request. if im not ok with it, ill add it to my will not write list)

CHARACTER LIST

the number next to a character's name indicates how many works i have for that character. red means it's a request, green means it's a non-requested work. these numbers are always up to date. pls be considerate of how many requests/works a character has before you request them

Total requests in inbox: 23

Malcolm in the Middle

Malcolm Wilkerson (2)

Reese Wilkerson (5)

That 70s Show

Steven Hyde

Eric Forman

Michael Kelso

Derry Girls

James Maguire

Clare Devlin

Michelle Mallon

My Babysitter’s A Vampire

Benny Weir (7) (1)

Rory Keaner (2) (1)

Ethan Morgan (1)

iZombie

Ravi Chakrabarti

Liv Moore

Lab Rats

Chase Davenport (2)

Leo Dooley

Bree Davenport

Adam Davenport

Five Nights at Freddy's

Mike Schmidt

The Santa Clause

Bernard the Elf

Twilight

Charlie Swan

Carlisle Cullen

Emmett Cullen (1)

Diary of a Wimpy Kid

Rodrick Heffley (1)

Saltburn

Felix Catton

Oliver Quick

Farleigh Start

Ghostbusters

Ray Stantz

Egon Spengler (2)

Mean Girls

Regina George

Heathers

J.D.

Veronica Sawyer

Pitch Perfect

Bumper Allen

Beca Mitchell

The End of the F***ing World

James

Alyssa Foley

[agaypanic]

adding more tags teehee

My Request Rules + Character List

My inbox is currently open for requests

Masterlist

My Ko-fi

If you’d like to be notified about future works, you can send me an ask or comment saying what characters/fandoms you want to be notified for and I’ll add you to the tag list for it!

RULES

Please only request through my ask box! Requesting through my messages will be ignored/deleted

I only write x readers, no character x character

If there’s a character that I’ve written for that’s no longer on this list, please don’t request something with that character. The list is always up to date so if they’re not on the list anymore, I no longer write for them

If my inbox is closed for requests, do not send me a request. if i get a request while my inbox is closed, the request gets deleted without any notice. if you try to send the request again while i’m not accepting anything, you will be blocked

If not specified, the reader will be fem/afab! Exceptions are pronoun usage in the request (referring to reader as “they”, “he”, etc) and canon sexuality of the character the reader’s being paired with (if the character’s a gay guy, the reader will be male)

I have the right to not want to fulfill a request that makes me uncomfortable in any way (i rarely reject requests, but some people are weird)

I WILL NOT WRITE

incest

throuples/threesomes that involve siblings (for example, malcolm x reader x reese)

someone explicitly having an ED

someone dealing with SH

I’m not comfortable with writing about these topics, so any requests with them will be deleted without any notice and i will block you

CHARACTER LIST

*the number next to a character’s name indicates how many requests i currently have for that character! this is always up to date!please be considerate of how many requests i have for a character before requesting!

Total requests in inbox: 3

Malcolm in the Middle

Malcolm Wilkerson

Reese Wilkerson

Francis Wilkerson (2)

Cynthia Sanders

I Am Not Okay With This

Stanley Barber

Sydney Novak

Dina

That 70s Show

Steven Hyde

Eric Forman

Michael Kelso

Derry Girls

James Maguire

Clare Devlin

Michelle Mallon

My Babysitter’s A Vampire

Benny Weir

Rory Keaner

Ethan Morgan (1)

Erica Jones

iZombie

Ravi Chakrabarti

Liv Moore

Lab Rats

Chase Davenport

Leo Dooley

Bree Davenport

Adam Davenport

Five Nights at Freddy’s

Mike Schmidt

The Santa Clause

Bernard the Elf

Twilight

Charlie Swan

Carlisle Cullen

Emmett Cullen

Diary of a Wimpy Kid

Rodrick Heffley

Saltburn

Felix Catton

Oliver Quick

Farleigh Start

Ghostbusters

Ray Stantz

Egon Spengler

Mean Girls

Regina George

Heathers

J.D.

Veronica Sawyer

Pitch Perfect

Bumper Allen

Beca Mitchell

The End of the F***ing World

James

Alyssa