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hersweetrevenge · 2 years ago

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this chapter kept me sustained over a weird week for me, and now i can finally splurge all my thoughts !! i've loved the build up of this relationship, the giddy infatuation and the harmless (for now) cat-and-mousing, but it's so nice to see the begining of the result lol 💗

“He’s gonna fix my sewing machine.” You said with a laugh. ... “What does that mean?” Veronica gave you an exaggerated scandalized look.

i love this so much lol the humour is so spot on !! veronica is such a real one. also i am for sure adopting this into my lexicon as my number one sex euphemism.

“Corey,” Veronica purred. The two of you burst into giggles like you used to in the back of class in high school.

i love this too !! as much as i love and want to read angst and being tragically, maddeningly in love, i also want the silly, giggly feeling of having a crush. having a crush should make you happy !! i've said it before but i do think there's something very youthful about corey, and that permeates through the crush for me. idk where i was going with that tbh, but having a silly, exciting crush is so interesting, especially compared with the next point --

he looks at you with something cold and hard in his face, and you remember the fear you felt in the library the first time you made eye contact

yes !! the fact that as genuinely sweet as corey is, he's dangerous too, and that isn't something that should be underestimated. it's that leaky tap personality of his, even the darkness tends to leak out when he doesn't mean it to.

Corey has a screwdriver kit you didn’t notice him bring in... He has one of your reference books open to a diagram you’d tried several times to understand. He shows no signs of confusion.

i love seeing corey do what he does best. above all, he is intelligent. he had so much potential that i think he's only just realising again. he's getting into the swing of utilising his skills and developing a hobby that has no pressure. education was a means to an end, now he can do what he finds interesting and it really is just for fun (and some extra cash money).

this has been living in my head rent free since i read it !! you're so right !! the intimacy of domestic acts is severely under-rated. and it really is something special, coming from a place of love and care that is inherently tender. corey needs to be treated tenderly, having spent so much time bouncing between sharp edges and harsh realities.

cook some pasta, sluttily, basically.

When the guys at work ask questions about his life, he gives half answers if they're persistent. If they seem like they would let it go, he just grunts.

obsessed with this corey who's surly and grumpy and tight-lipped. who tries so hard not to give a single thing away, even when it's written all over his face that there's something in his past that made him this way.

He can’t imagine not wanting to go to college... Doing things, not because you want to, but to avoid the consequences if you don’t.

college, man. corey has adapted his whole life to try and be palatable, to try and be what people want him to be, even while being told that no one will ever want him anyway.

To put on a front and pretend to be normal. To get to know a pretty girl. He lies to himself every day that it doesn’t hurt. That he likes being alone.

again, he's tried so hard, all his life and it didn't help him in the end. he's lonely and it feels like it's never going to end. but this is his rebirth, isn't it? and he's never been able to resist the longing and yearning even when he thinks he doesn't deserve the end result.

again he feels aroused at the idea that you’re a hunter too

ahhh !! this line !! he's such a little weirdo and i love him so much. he's always wanted to be wanted, and he's been through a lot lately so i can absolutely see him being unreasonably excited by the idea of hunter/hunted, and is happy to switch roles.

You reach into the basin and, without really thinking about it, you pick his fork up off his plate and put it into your mouth. You stand there for a second before you catch yourself.

i'm so obsessed with the way you are shaping this infatuation !! harmlessly weird things that you'd be embarrassed to ever repeat to someone, but that just fulfils the need to be close.

The two of you crawl around in the dark as he replaces each stickered outlet, you holding a flashlight steady for him. It feels strangely intimate, and you both speak in whispers, leaning in to be heard.

another absolutely perfect scene of domestic bliss. it feels like a weird game of murder in the dark, a very childish but intimate experience of both playing and trusting someone else.

He’s smart. He seems scared to make jokes, like he doesn’t think he’s funny, but there’s a dark edged humor to him

literally, this is the reason i love corey so much. him not getting allyson's joke about the bike is the moment i knew i was done for, and this plays on that so well. i want him to get some confidence in himself so badly !!

You’ve noticed the scars on his hand and his throat... the sense that he’s been through something awful [...] You’ve been emotionally unavailable for what feels like forever.

okay, okay, okay, wait -- the idea of what people must think of seeing the scars is so interesting to me. they must be gnarly enough for people to know it must have been traumatic. whichever way reader's thoughts go, if he did it to himself or it was done to him, they're kind of right? he did it to himself but his hand was forced, wasn't it? except it wasn't, it was his choice and it is just another decision in his life that got him in a worse place than where he started.

wow, anyway -- i think corey would get self concious about it. he's never liked being perceived in the superficial way he is in public, and now he has this scar that will just make people analyse him and formulate theories.

and being emotionally unavailble? man, you went for the jugular on reader realism. i love this aspect though, knowing what we know of corey, but still knowing we want to open up for him because he'd understand. oof.

It still hurts, wrenching the air from his lungs. And it still feels like sinking into a warm bath at the end of a long day.

this description is everything !! corey feels everything so deeply, all the time, and i love the intensity of this description. the similar feeling of loosing breath but it being violent and then soft.

sidenote, what is it about corey in baths that fascinates me? something, something, vulnerable and safe at the same time.

You’ve already gotten more time with him than she ever will.

i love the way you write his (to his knowledge) posthumous connection with allyson. the guilt and regret, but also the fact that he still won't let her go. he thinks he's what killed her and he still needs her, will still call on her to help him, or let her have a presence in his life. and the way he compares his time with reader, as though he doesn't keep allyson with him anyway.

ahhh this chapter is brilliant !! corey and reader's relationship is so endearing, there is the childish excitement of a fresh crush, but still with an undercurrent of strangeness 💗

Clean Again

Chapter 5: THE LONG LIST read on AO3 | previous chapter | tumblr chapter index make sure to check AO3 for this fic's playlist and other extras!

Corey comes to fix Reader's sewing machine.

general warnings for this fic - angst, fluff, eventual smut (MDNI), canon-typical violence, canon-typical gore contents/warnings for this chapter - alcohol consumption, stalking

4,237 words

@rebel-blue @heartrot666 @wolvesandvampires @cordelium @toxicanonymity @multifandom--mess @hersweetrevenge @futurewife @yllcm @ethanhoewke dm me or reply to this post to be added to the list💕

You stand in the living room, slowly rotating in a circle. Evaluating. Your eye lands on a candle and you lunge forward to light it. Then you step back and think. Too romantic. You blow it out. Another thought occurs to you and you run to the bathroom. You tear down the hand towel on the bar over the counter and stuff a new one into it. You tidy the bunched up fabric, but not too much. The kitchen! You sprint to the sink and dump out the mesh trap you keep in the drain. You dash back to the bathroom and apply a spritz of perfume down the inside of your shirt.

Corey’s coming over tonight.

Yesterday Veronica asked you to meet up for coffee before work. You arrived at the cafe across from the record store and found her at a little table on the patio. Before you could even pull a chair out to sit down, she was demanding information. All you had texted her on Monday night was a message mimicking hers.

“Oh my god, spill!” She exclaimed excitedly.

“He’s gonna fix my sewing machine.” You said with a laugh.

“What does that mean?” Veronica gave you an exaggerated scandalized look.

“My literal sewing machine. It’s been jammed for weeks. I can’t figure it out. But he’s a mechanic or something? I’m not really sure, but he knows machine things and he’s coming over tomorrow to fix it.”

“That’s your first date?” She said, amused.

“Well, I’m also gonna make him dinner.”

“Oh my god, cooking on the first date? You slut!” Veronica slapped your hand playfully and you both laughed. “What are you making him?”

“I don’t know yet! He said anything is fine except spaghetti. I wanna pick something kinda simple cause I know I’m gonna be super nervous. I gotta look at what I have in the house.”

“So how did the conversation go? How did you wind up asking him to fix your sewing machine?”

“The first time I saw him was in the like, technical hobby aisle. I was getting books about sewing machine maintenance because I thought I could figure it out on my own. I haven't gotten anywhere 'cause I keep getting scared I'm just gonna irreparably fuck the machine if I do it on my own. I saw him on that aisle again and I just said ‘Do you know anything about sewing machines?’” She didn't need to know you'd chased after him, even if you kind of felt like he'd wanted you to. You know she would not approve.

“Your opening line was ‘Do you know anything about sewing machines?’” She asked, incredulous. You nodded your head. “I cannot believe that worked.”

“Me neither,” you admitted.

“He’s a mechanic or something? That’s sexy.”

“Yeah,” you squeaked, covering your face.

“Mr. Library, the sexy mechanic. You’ll have to let me know how it goes.”

“Of course!” You reassured her. “Actually, I was planning to text you like, right before he gets there and after he leaves, like, for safety.”

“You fucking better, or I will come over there, guns blazing,” Veronica said. “What’s his name?”

“Corey.”

“Corey,” Veronica purred. The two of you burst into giggles like you used to in the back of class in high school.

You stand in front of the mirror on your dresser now, putting earrings in and taking them out. You want to look put together, like you tried, like you care. You also don’t want to go overboard. He’s just going to be fixing your sewing machine. But it’s more than just fixing your sewing machine. You haven’t been on any dates since you broke things off with Hurley. You’re already so infatuated with Corey it scares you. You just want things to go well. You’re not sure you can handle it if they don’t.

You go back out into the rest of the apartment, making sure it’s clean in the right way. Tidy without being sterile or stuffy. You pull the blanket down off the back of the couch, then toss it back up, so it doesn’t look so manicured. You flip through your records, looking for something to play, or at least to put on your little easel so it looked like you had been listening to it. You don’t know what kind of music he likes, so it seems fruitless.

It doesn’t matter now anyway. You can hear someone walking up the gravel path. He’s here. You text Veronica, hitting send just as there’s a knock on the door.

You open the door and you’re instantly taken aback by his beauty, the same way you were the first time you saw him. He looks great. He’s dressed in the simple way it seems like he always is, but it suits him so well, and you’ve never seen him in a sweater before. The way it hangs off his broad, round shoulders entices you to wonder about his body, so you look up at his face instead. His eyes, surrounded by halos of lashes, his pillowy lips. You feel your chest flushing.

“Come in, make yourself at home. You can take your shoes off if you want, or whatever you’re comfortable with,” you say, stepping behind the door to let him in.

“Oh, thanks,” he says. His work boots clatter to the wooden floor. You close the door awkwardly behind him.

Your phone goes off extremely loudly. Both of you jump. You had the volume turned up so you could hear if he called or texted while you were preparing for him to come over, but now the sound is deafening.

“Sorry, it’s just my friend checking in. She’s nervous about you coming over, 'cause you could be a serial killer or something.” You try to make a face that indicates it’s a joke, but for a split second he looks at you with something cold and hard in his face, and you remember the fear you felt in the library the first time you made eye contact. The hairs stand up on the back of your neck, but his face is already soft again and you manage a smile.

“Sewing machine’s in here,” you say as you lead him to the dining room. "I don’t know if you need them but the books I got from the library are right next to it. Can I get you something to drink? I have water, tea, beer…?” Corey just shakes his head and sits down in front of the machine. “Okay, let me know if you need anything. I gotta put the water on for dinner.”

You scamper into the kitchen. You pull out all the pots and pans you’ll need, using the water running into the pot for the pasta to cover the deep breaths you’re taking to try to steady yourself. He said no spaghetti, but that other pasta was fine. But is it fine? Should you make something else? You double check that your phone is on vibrate before sending Veronica another text.

Then you go back into the dining room.

Corey has a screwdriver kit you didn’t notice him bring in, all different shapes and sizes including ones you've never seen before. He’s already got the machine split down the middle, a neat little pile of screws in the lid of his tool set. You watch him silently for a second. He has one of your reference books open to a diagram you’d tried several times to understand. He shows no signs of confusion. He doesn’t acknowledge that you’ve come back into the room, so you clear your throat quietly.

“Do you want company or do you need to be alone to focus?”

Corey waves you over. You grab a dining chair and place it closer to him before sitting down. He glances up at you briefly, then goes back to his work. You sit there with your hands clasped in your lap, watching him. At first you feel super awkward. You still kind of can’t believe this is happening. That you saw him more than once, that asking him to fix your sewing machine worked, that he’s here, in your dining room. But as you watch his skillful hands remove piece after piece, working with quiet determination, you settle down. It feels like the most natural thing in the world. When you hear the water start to boil, you resent having to go back in the kitchen instead of getting to watch him longer. Then you remember what Veronica said yesterday morning.

“Oh my god, cooking on the first date? You slut!” That makes you smile. It is slutty, in its own way, doing something for him that other people might reserve for later in the relationship. Performing an intimate and domestic act for a stranger. You’ve never let a man know where you live without hanging out somewhere else first before, you’ve never had a man in this apartment at all. You’re breaking all your rules for him. It's scary, but the rules didn't protect you last time anyway. Might as well see what happens if you do things differently.

By the time you have a free moment away from the stove again, Corey is reassembling the machine. There’s a mound of dust and little fabric scraps on the table.

“Is this what was wrong with it?” You indicate the dust bunny, embarrassed.

“Yep,” Corey says simply.

“Damn, I thought I kept it pretty clean,” you say, trying to defend yourself even though Corey doesn’t seem to be judging.

“It’s the machine’s fault. You can’t clean where I pulled this from without opening the whole thing up. Bad design.” He shrugs.

“Oh. Thanks for fixing it.” You sweep the dust bunny into your hand and drop it into the trash can. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

“It smells good,” he says quietly.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Riding here, the road rumbling under him, Corey tried to prepare himself for your questions. He knew you would want to try to get to know him. When the guys at work ask questions about his life, he gives half answers if they're persistent. If they seem like they would let it go, he just grunts. No one can find plot holes in the revised version of his life if he never shares it with anyone. But he knew that wouldn’t work with you. And if he was going to do this, whatever this was, he had to let you in, at least a little.

He was grateful you seemed happy to watch him work on the sewing machine in relative silence. Being able to do something with his hands helped him calm down. But now that diner is on the table, it’s time to talk, and his anxiety creeps up on him. He tries to push it down with the beer you brought him. Your cooking is surprisingly delicious. He regrets being too uncomfortable to really enjoy it. Hopefully next time, he catches himself thinking. If there is a next time.

“So you’re a car mechanic? Or are you like, an appliance mechanic? It wasn’t clear the other day.”

“Both,” he takes the beer bottle from his lips to say. “I work at a garage, and I repair old electronics and appliances to sell just for myself. You mend clothes?”

“Oh that’s my little side business. I also work at Plymouth Records, downtown. The mechanic thing is so cool. How did you get into that?”

It’s gonna be a long night, Corey thinks, wanting to do this to be close to you, but already feeling the wear of talking this much for the first time in so long.

“I was gonna go to college for engineering, but…” he trails off, scared to give you more information than that.

“But college.” You finish the sentence, making a face. “I dropped out too.”

“What were you studying before you dropped out?” He asks. He feels so relieved to hear you didn’t finish college either. He hopes the circumstances of your departure were much less traumatic than his, but it feels good to have a thing like that in common. It’s been so long since he felt like he had anything in common with anyone.

You laugh ruefully and it surprises him to hear the edge in your voice. “I had so many majors. I wasn’t in college because I had something I wanted to study. I was in college because it’s where I was ‘supposed to’ be.”

Corey wants to say something meaningful to that. He can’t imagine not wanting to go to college. He’d hung all his hopes on it before the thing with Jeremy. It was his ticket out. But he understands suffocating under other people’s expectations. Doing things, not because you want to, but to avoid the consequences if you don’t. He’s done that his whole life, with the exception of one glorious and horrific week. He couldn’t possibly get into it, so he settles from solemn nod.

“Where are you from?” You ask.

“Illinois,” Corey says, then immediately regrets it. He doesn’t want to lie, but he could be less specific.

“Oh yeah? I could tell you weren’t no southern boy,” you say, exaggerating your subtle accent. “Where at in Illinois?”

“Not a town you’ve heard of.” He hopes against hope that that’s the truth. His manslaughter trial didn’t make huge waves, but it had definitely made the rounds on social media nationally, and there was the podcast that nurse had mentioned. Michael Myers’ massacres, and his own, were probably much bigger headlines. Front page maybe even. He had killed nine people that week. He had no way to even estimate how many Michael had done beyond the two he’d been there for. That had to make the front page nationally. Or trend on Twitter, or something. But he couldn’t be sure. He’d avoided the news studiously since he left.

“What brought you here?”

That, Corey can answer truthfully. Vaguely, but truthfully. “It was hell living there. I couldn’t wait to get out,” he says. “What about you?”

“I’m from here,” you say. “I was gone for a few years, but I wound up crawling back.”

The conversation lulls. Corey is thankful that you allow it to. Mixed feelings roil inside him. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t have accepted dinner if he was going to help you, and he shouldn’t have helped you. His cover will be blown, he’ll go to prison. He’ll be sentenced to death, but he won’t ever die. He’ll just wither immortally in a cell, watching all the other killers be walked to their waiting KFC.

And yet, it’s so nice to talk to someone. To put on a front and pretend to be normal. To get to know a pretty girl. He lies to himself every day that it doesn’t hurt. That he likes being alone. That even with his mother breathing down his neck his whole childhood, he was always really alone, and his complete isolation is just the logical conclusion of things. The way he was born to live.

Of course none of that is true. He remembers the way he felt about the Allens before the accident with Jeremy. How he’d hoped someday he could experience a love like the one they had, before he destroyed it.

Then there’s you. Rubbing your finger around the rim of your glass in mock-absentmindedness. Pretending not to look at him, but studying him intently. You texted your friend just in case the man you invited into your home was a murderer. He is. But you’re safe with him, at least right now. He thinks about the way you caught him in the library. And again he feels aroused at the idea that you’re a hunter too. He wonders if you could survive an encounter with Michael, if you have the fight in you like Laurie did. He finishes his beer.

“You’re a good cook,” he says, breaking the silence.

You give him The Smile . “Thank you! I was worried it was too similar to spaghetti.”

“I might actually eat your spaghetti.”

“You should be so lucky,” you reply, laughing. You’re flirting. He’s flirting, and you’re flirting back. He almost can’t believe it.

The rest of the evening is easier for Corey. He relaxes just a little. When it’s time for him to go, you walk outside with him. You stand out there in your sock feet with no jacket even though it’s a chilly night. Your eyes light up when you see his motorcycle.

“Is this what you drive all the time?” You ask.

“Yeah. Do you like motorcycles?”

“Uh, I think so? I’ve never ridden one.” You step closer to it.

Corey almost offers to give you a ride, but he hesitates, thinking of Allyson. The only other person he’d ever ridden with. Will giving you a ride lock you into her fate?

“I might be scared to ride it, honestly. As lame as that is,” you say, letting him off the hook.

“It’s not lame. My dad died in a motorcycle accident when I was little,” Corey says, surprising himself by sharing so easily.

“And you still ride this thing everywhere?” You raise your eyebrows in exaggerated disbelief.

“I don’t have the best sense of self-preservation,” he confesses.

A smirk curls your lips. Corey can see you realizing the shy, reserved boy you’d spent the evening with might have an edge to him. You have no idea how sharp that edge is.

“Let me know if there’s anything else you need fixed,” he says, straddling the bike and putting his helmet on.

“Do you want the long list or the short list?” You say sarcastically.

“The long list. Text it to me.” Corey’s bike roars to life. You laugh and shake your head. “I’m serious!” He shouts over the rumble of the engine.

You reach out and put your hand on the top of his helmet. Then you walk back to your door, turning around to wave at him before you go inside. He waves back, and watches you disappear into your apartment. When he can't see you anymore he rides away.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

As you close the door, you let out a little excited sound. You can’t help but squeal. Things went so well! You send the all clear text to Veronica as you make your way to the kitchen, not even annoyed that you have to clean up. Corey had been so nice, scraping both plates and putting them in the sink. You’re touched by the small gesture of respect. You reach into the basin and, without really thinking about it, you pick his fork up off his plate and put it into your mouth. You stand there for a second before you catch yourself. You pull the fork from your mouth and laugh out loud at yourself as you load the dishwasher.

After that’s done you bring a glass of water into the bedroom and set it and your phone on your nightstand. You want to text Corey and tell him thank you for such a lovely evening, but you don’t want to come across as clingy. You tell yourself you’ll decide after you do your nighttime routine. The water barely spurts out of the faucet in your bathroom. You struggle to get your toothbrush clean under the unimpressive flow, and it takes forever for your cupped hands to fill with water to splash on your face.

When you come back into the bedroom, skin moisturized and hair braided, the decision of how soon to text Corey has been made for you.

A little heart appears over your last message. His transparent attempt to have reasons to come back over charms you. As if you wouldn’t just invite him because you like him. You smile as you tuck yourself into bed.

Your bedroom door is crooked and sticks closed, so Corey takes it down and glues a bunch of toothpicks into the screw holes, then when the glue is dry, he saws them flush before he hangs the door back up.

Some of your outlets are loose, the weight of the cord pulls the plug halfway out as soon as you let go. The two of you check every outlet in the whole apartment, plugging things in and watching them slip back out, putting stickers on the ones that suck. Next time he comes over he flips all the switches in your breaker box. The two of you crawl around in the dark as he replaces each stickered outlet, you holding a flashlight steady for him. It feels strangely intimate, and you both speak in whispers, leaning in to be heard.

The light bulb in your closet is burnt out and your high ceilings keep it out of reach, even on the step stool you keep around. Corey stacks your dining chairs under the bare bulb and climbs the precarious pile.

“Be careful,” you warn him from outside the closet. He scoffs and holds his hand out for the new light bulb.

“There’s a spider in here,” he says when the light comes on.

“Cool,” you say. “Is it poisonous?”

“Um… I’m not a spider expert. It’s just a regular spider, I think.”

“Just leave it,” you instruct.

“You don’t want me to kill it?” His muffled voice sounds surprised.

“It’s not hurting anything. If that’s where it wants to be, I’m not gonna stop it.” He gives you a confused look when he jumps down from the chair stack. “Are you judging me?” You ask.

“Never. I’m just… impressed.”

“I have a soft spot for maligned creatures,” you explain.

When you’re not with Corey, he’s always on your mind. You’ve started hearing motorcycles everywhere. Whenever you hear one rumbling along, you think of him, and say a quick prayer to no one for the rider’s safety.

He’s smart. He seems scared to make jokes, like he doesn’t think he’s funny, but there’s a dark edged humor to him that surprises you pleasantly every time. When you talk it feels like he really listens, like he’s taking notes.

Something very bad happened to him. You’ve noticed the scars on his hand and his throat, but the sense that he’s been through something awful comes equally from how extremely guarded he always seems. His reservation is the very thing that reduces yours. You’ve been emotionally unavailable for what feels like forever. You think of all the times you ended things after one or two stiff little dates. Corey’s hesitance makes him feel like someone safe.

And he’s just so goddamn pretty. Sometimes you have to look away because it feels like gazing at the sun.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s not a complete coincidence that you’ve started hearing motorcycles more often, not only an illusion of increased frequency.

Corey hadn’t let himself follow you home from the library the other day, but finding the same strength now isn’t always easy. In the evenings after work, on his days off, whenever he’s not busy and he’s not with you, he wonders where you are and what you’re doing. He makes himself work on a project, scrub a circuit board with rubbing alcohol and a q-tip. But inevitably he gets antsy.

His bike carves across town. He passes your apartment, he cuts through the parking lot behind the record store, he lurks across the street from your favorite mom and pop grocery. He’s been going to the library more than ever before. Your habit of texting while walking irritates him, but he always softens a little when he feels his phone vibrate. He makes sure you get home safe on nights you stumble out of a dive bar and into a taxi with Veronica and Rose. A time or two he’s left you a little present, dropping a flower from a nearby tree onto your passenger seat through your barely open window. When he sees a meter maid writing you a ticket he runs over and stops her, putting all the coins in his pocket into the machine to buy you more time.

When he’s with you he’s still nervous, putting a lot of effort into every conversation, always desperate for you to give him The Smile . It still hurts, wrenching the air from his lungs. And it still feels like sinking into a warm bath at the end of a long day. He feels a foreign sensation in your presence: joy.

The guilt however, is familiar and well worn. The thoughts about Allyson, that he had failed to keep her safe, that he had walked away after promising he wouldn’t. It just gets a shiny new coat of paint. He should stay away from you. What if he implicates you, contaminates you. Is he putting you in legal danger by getting close to you? Or physical danger? And is he disrespecting Allyson’s memory? You’ve already gotten more time with him than she ever will. Is that good or bad? How can he keep you from ending up like her?

#corey cunningham #my beloved #ahhh the way this is all that is keepin me going lol #thank you for writing. and for your dedication !! 💗#bonus highlights:#mr library. the sexy mechanic #not knowing what music corey likes. dw he also doesnt really know properly yet lol #how neat his is when taking the sewing machine apart. the screws in the lid of the tool box #corey on death row and the kfc dinner #how perfect he thinks the allens were #the mention of wally !! i feel like corey would definitely be doing some thinking about a lot of things he hasnt been able to #corey acts of service handy man realness #(also made me think of sam and kate in holes (2003) in a good way)#the spider !! we love a call back #and the little ref to front page news ?? perhaps ??#corey: clean again

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takes1 · 6 months ago

Note

Some fluff w Koushi maybe?🫶

koushi realizing barista!reader is pretty cute

thanks for the request! this was a cute and refreshing prompt for me <3 much love!!

warnings. none info. sfw / fluff / college!au / coffeeshop!au / simple but cute / suga wears cardigans / timeskip!suga / like imagine english teacher suga pulling a stretchy cardigan over himself ugh so cute / 630 words links. haikyuu collection. masterlist. requests open. my ao3

"Good morning!" A gentle voice blessed your ears.

You smiled without looking up from the register.

Mr. Cardigan's ritual began. Glance over the menu, top-right to the espresso drinks, consider getting a decaf-- of course he won't go with the decaf, it was 7:40 and he was already tapping his foot to get to his 8 a.m class. Then he would decide on his tried and true as if it were a brand new idea:

"Double espresso, steamed milk, sweetened with honey."

He was wearing a face of mild shock, a touch of embarrassment, when you looked up from the order you already input.

"Oh, shit--," You laughed, warm at your slip-up, "I'm so sorry."

"Nono, it's- it's fine," He sported a similar color.

After a moment's hesitation, he chuckled and gave you his card.

Your Monday, Wednesday, Friday shift lined up with everyone who had a MWF 8 a.m (+9, 9:30, 10:00, and 10:30, regrettably). He was one of the few you cared to remember since he was such a cutie and he usually tipped you well.

"It's been a long morning, I get it," He graced you with a smooth forgiveness.

You sighed, relieved, and agreed wholeheartedly.

Spring semester was right at the close. Most were coming in to the Business building's little ground-level cafe early or late to cram for finals. He stayed consistent throughout the past few months, though, with his 7:40 sharp arrival.

7:44 if there was a line, but that was Mondays. Fridays weren't as busy because so many people skipped. But reliable Mr. Cardigan never missed a class.

"Almost done, though," You handed him his card back and spun the tip screen around for him, expecting nothing this time.

"Thank god," He tapped for No Receipt and closed his wallet.

He stood at the counter with his hands crossed in front of him to wait for his drink.

He never noticed how pretty your hands were before today. He looked down at his own kinda stumpy fingers. Then he watched -careful not to come across as creepy- at how gingerly you held the mug to the steam wand while screwing the filter in place.

The urge to talk to you nudged at the back of his throat, but he fell silent when you flipped the switch on.

The espresso machine was always a little too loud to talk over.

It was a graceful background noise to those who studied in this lobby, and a good backdrop to stay quiet to.

This time, he didn't feel as though your usual exchange was natural anymore. He wanted to talk, but didn't know quite how. The usual 4-minute wait felt like ages, but today he wasn't keen on leaving until he spoke to you again.

Your eyes flitted over his when you turned towards the lobby side for the honey.

His broad shoulders tensed and he turned his head to take false interest in some of the artwork on the walls. He didn't realize he was staring so hard.

He wondered how long you had been paying attention to him. If was just habit, or maybe a fondness had been growing and he was always too tired to notice anything other than how well you made his drink.

Now it was impossible not to overthink your friendly customer-service smile, or the smiley face you always put on the side of his cup.

Say something!

He repeated it so many times that his mind had been made unintentionally blank when you held the cup up for him to take over the counter.

"Good luck with finals," You said softly.

When he reached for his latte, your fingertips brushed for the tiniest moment. An intense heat crept up the back of his neck.

A shaky, "You, too," was all he could manage.

masterlist.

requests open.

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y-rhywbeth2 · 10 months ago

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Still haven't decided what I think of Gortash's relationship to his religion (or how to word it), but I'm going to try and babble about it anyway. For narrative reasons, I kind of want him to be the middle ground between my interpretations of my Durge (absolute blind, desperate fanaticism) and Ketheric (misotheist, in this for purely transactional reasons).

Like his ties to Bane are based in both transaction and faith: Bane's dogma is correct - or it's the gist of how the world "really works", at least.

"The world is made stronger by mighty and ordered rule" "Tyrannize and destroy the weak, so that all in time become better and stronger." "Laws and rules, not wanton chaos, should reign."

Yay, industry, let's get the giant machine that is society improving and running to standards. The gears of the world do indeed move according to the interactions between the powerful and those who serve. Uncontrolled chaos is undesirable; a firm hand with a death grip on society's jugular is genuinely for the best. You can't trust other people to be competent tyrants so you'd better do it yourself. etc.

Besides, Gortash's worldview appears to be "fuck those born rich for their unearned privilage; also screw the poor who are too weak to better themselves; only people like me who worked themselves to the bone from nothing deserve the power and respect that we/I demanded and took." Bane, the slave from another world who tore the spark of divine power from his former masters, made himself a god and made his former master kneel? I think Bane probably counts as worthy in from that view. Ultimate self-made jackass.

It's transactional, and coloured by his stay in the outer planes, where gods are not as much of a Thing. Having Bane for a boss brings benefits that I suppose outweigh the downsides. Everyone serves a master, whether they blind themselves to it or not, and he picked this one.

But he entered Bane's service with open eyes. He requires Bane's approval because he wants the rewards that come with good service and to avoid the punishments that come with failure. Bane merely compliments Gortash's world, unlike Durge whose entire world is Bhaal.

#My brain gave up. Is this intelligible?#Today is one of those low spoon fatigue-ridden days and I have neither tea nor coffee in the cupboards...#/gortash #babbling #villainous nonsense

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sirfrogsworth · 1 year ago

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Froggie's (Almost) Very Productive Day

I try to fit as many out-and-about chores as possible into a single day so I only have one set of post-exertional malaise consequences instead of consequences after each day of doing a thing. So any time I decide to drive, I try to find several tasks to accomplish all at once.

My first stop was the Family Services Division in the hopes of getting some help with grocery bills. I am making ends meet, but it seems to be getting harder each month. And maybe I could have skipped my trip to Florida and saved that money, but if I don't do something drastic for my mental health, I fear this first holiday season without a parent could send me into the darkness.

I needed to do an interview to finish applying for SNAP. I wanted to do a phone interview, but the next appointment was in January. So I went to social services where they allow walk-in appointments. I waited in a tiny plastic chair for several hours until they called my name. She yelled out "Benjamin" because when most people see "Grelle" they aren't really sure how to say it. (Rhymes with belly.)

She started my interview and it was going swimmingly at first. But then she started asking questions about the house and my inheritance and my trust. I had no idea what to tell her. It feels like a mistake now, but I have had pretty much no involvement in that process. I have no idea how it works. And I started to panic because she was acting like I was committing fraud or something by not mentioning the trust. But the entire point of the trust was to protect my benefits. Nothing is mine. I own nothing. I have no access. But I had no idea how to explain that.

Maybe my lawyer can help me apply, but I did not want them investigating everything and screwing things up before we even have the estate through probate. We specifically hired a lawyer and went through this convoluted process to make sure everything was on the up and up. But she really made me feel like I was doing something wrong. And that made me panic, which probably made me look even more guilty of something. So I just canceled everything and left.

After a few hours in a crowded government office, I decided to head to a different crowded government office.

I know I didn't need it until 2025, but I decided to go ahead and get my Real ID thingie before my first flight. I was kind of hoping they'd retake my picture because my current driver's license is... well...

And I'm so glad they took my big terrible picture and made it into a smaller, more terrible picture.

People complain about the DMV, but the one near me runs like a machine. It was filled with people and I still only had a 10 minute wait time.

I'm starting to wonder if all of those 80s comedians who were all, "What's the deal with the DMV?" were exaggerating.

Good stuff, Jerry.

I head up to the counter and ask for a Real ID. She asks for two pieces of mail and my birth certificate.

And this disappointed me a little bit.

I did my research. I went to the Real ID website and used their interactive guide to figure out exactly which documents I would need. They gave me this entire checklist and I printed it out and went through all my records and mail trying to find everything.

I had to wait a week for my internet bill to come because it's the only thing I forgot to change to paperless. This took a lot of effort and I was ready to be validated for being so prepared.

And she asks for two pieces of mail.

Any mail.

So I was off to get new tires.

Driving around on 8 year old bald tires was giving me anxiety. I didn't have the money for new tires, but I remember the guy saying they had financing. Recently several of my past debts went past the statute of limitations, and so my credit score lifted itself out of the pits of "poor" and into the realm of "fair." So I decided to take a chance and apply for a Discount Tire credit card. It's a 6 month payment plan with no interest, so that didn't feel as predatory as all the credit card offers I get in the mail with 8000% interest.

We started going through the approval process and I was answering all of the questions and then I saw the name of the bank offering the credit. It was the same bank that tried to sue me and also the bank that can longer collect due to the statute. I was worried they put me on some sort of list and would deny me. But, to my surprise, they approved me instantly. And wouldn't you know it, they gave me almost exactly the amount needed for a new set of tires.

I'm hoping we'll be doing another auction of the house stuff soon, so I plan to pay off the card and then cancel it, but this was the only solution I could come up with to drive safely until then.

I was having a weird day where photos of crusty rich wide dudes followed me everywhere I went. Here is my good ol' boy governor at the entrance to social services.

And at the tire place, I noticed this fella...

Why does every rich CEO think they are a font of wisdom capable of creating compelling quotes?

Does he think no one has ever said "work hard" and "have fun"? And after he said this was he like...

"That's gold, put that in *every* store."

"Oh, and use that picture of me where it looks like a handsome gal just grabbed my undercarriage."

He probably thinks, "Well, no one has put these specific generic platitudes together into a single mega-platitude. I am a genius."

"Be honest, work hard, have fun, be grateful, pay it forward" sounds like he had a bunch of motivational posters on his wall and started reading them all at once.

Like, every line could have a picture of an eagle above it.

In any case, the guy at the tire store, Dakota, was really nice. He made the experience very low anxiety. And he really liked my Thor's Hammer keychain with built in fidget spinner.

He went around showing it to all his coworkers. "Look, it even spins!" And they were like, "Dude, where did you get that??" And I was like, "Amazon." Now I'm just imagining 10 dudes at a tire store all fidgeting their hammers.

As nice as he was, Dakota was still a salesman and had a job to do. He gave me two tire options and tried to upsell me. The cheapest tires had a "1" rating for winter. He said they get "super hard" in the cold... I tried not to giggle. But I explained I drive about twice a month and mostly to the grocery store. If it is a bad winter day, I'll just wait or get delivery. He understood and set me up with the cheaper tires.

He then checked out my car and noticed my tire pressure sensors were dying. I keep getting a warning light on my dash. Apparently they all have tiny batteries in them that die after 7 years. And you can't just replace the batteries so you have to install brand new sensors.

And this is where my social anxiety got me into trouble.

I don't actually need these sensors. They are usually inaccurate. I prefer to test my tires with an actual gauge. But I got so caught up in his sales pitch that I agreed to replace them... at $60 each. For that I could have gotten the fancier tires. I really don't care if an orange light shows up on my dash. And I looked up the price online and a pack of 4 is $30. Though that is without installation.

But still... I wasn't thinking and he was so nice that I was just like, "I want to please Dakota. Saying no might make Dakota sad." Dakota's job is selling me but that doesn't mean I have to buy anything. He would live if I had said "no thanks."

To make my blunder more blunderous, when they finished the tires he asked for my key fob. And it decided that was the time for the battery to die. And in order to reset the system for the new tire pressure sensors, you have to press two buttons on the fob for 7 seconds. Thankfully I had a spare fob at home, but if I want my fancy new $240 sensors to work, I have to return to Dakota and have him initialize them.

I really hope these are the Cadillac of sensors.

Or, like, the ones they use on Cadillacs?

They better be accurate, is what I'm saying.

I do feel safer with new tires. So I am glad I did that. And I gave them a good obligatory kick and felt the tread. They seem nice enough even if they get boners in the winter. It's crazy how bald my other tires were in comparison. Like, I can fit half my finger down into the tread on the new ones—which did not get them super hard.

The way I drive, I probably won't wear them down. They'll probably start to rot before I do.

Before I do, meaning before I wear them down.

Not before I rot.

I am not in a rotting competition with my tires.

I was then off to Sam's. I decided all of my hard work accomplishing 2 out of 3 goals deserved some sushi. So I grabbed some California Rolls and headed home. On my way out, a Hummer and a Porsche nearly collided in the parking lot. And they sort of got stuck facing each other. One of them needed to back up and they both signaled at each other like "You back up, I'm not backing up." And it was just this weird standoff between the two douchiest looking cars you could imagine.

I mean, you have to be a douche to drive a Hummer.

I still remember the mystery Hummer dialysis patient from when my dad was going 3 time per week. We could never figure out who owned the Hummer, but we knew it was not the underpaid nurses and techs. So it had to be one of the patients. And none of them seemed the type. We never solved that mystery.

That hummer started off a delightful safety yellow. (Elon would cry.)

They decided this wasn't extra enough... so they did this...

Katrina and I could never decide... are these cow spots or the world's least effective camoflauge?

There was another patient who drove this old beater...

And I loved seeing this car because we had the same one when I was a little kid. I'm afraid the aesthetics of the 1980s Caprice Classic did not stand the test of time, but it had great sentimental appeal for me.

But this maroon beast that squeaked and sputtered its way from here to there belonged to a very sweet older gentleman. Sometimes he and my dad would be dialysis buddies—sitting next to each other in the recliners. And the worst thing about dialysis was the boredom. All you have to do is watch broadcast TV with 4 channels.

All of the TVs require headphones. They give you your own set of super cheap headphones in the dialysis welcome bag. They were very uncomfortable so I ordered my dad better ones with cushioned ear cups.

His dialysis buddy noticed them and thought they looked nice. And then he revealed that his free headphones broke and he didn't know how to get new ones. He had been watching TV with no sound for weeks. So, I bought another pair with the soft ear cups and my dad gave them to his friend. And it just made me happy imagining the two of them watching The Price is Right in matching headphones.

I do have to make fun of this sweet old man a little bit. When I walked passed his car I noticed he implemented the world's most effective anti-theft device ever created.

That's right... The Club™.

If someone decides they have to have a 40 year old car with an engine that sounds like a dying hyena and a hubcap missing... they are out of luck.

But hey, you gotta protect what is important to you. And if I needed a getaway car and my choices were between his beater and the Cow Hummer, I'd take his ride for sure.

Well, I'd try... and then get arrested because The Club™ is undefeatable.

Do NOT look that up on YouTube. It's 100% true. (And the Lock Picking Lawyer doesn't count due to him being able to break into Fort Knox with a paperclip and then doing it again to make sure it isn't a fluke.)

The dialysis center is in the same complex as my local Tolerable Schnucks and I still see that maroon boat of a car every once in a while. I always smile whenever it is there because it lets me know he is hanging in there and hopefully still has sound for his TV.

Wow, I went off on a mega-tangent.

I didn't even finish talking about my day. Where was I? Oh, the douche standoff finally ended. The Porsche Douche capitulated and backed up. Probably due to the fact the Hummer Douche has 0 visibility behind him.

When I got home I started devouring my sushi. I finally heard back from my lawyer. He submitted the last of the evidence for my appeal. And I was finally able to confirm he got the records of my ECT treatments from 20 years ago. I worked so hard to get those. At first, they forgot to send all records before 2011. I had to call back and figure that out. They shipped them and they didn't arrive until a week before we had to file. Everything was so last minute and my anxiety has been... palpable. It felt like when I did my science fair project on Sunday night.

He's hoping to get a decision at the beginning of next year. He warned me that these appeals are usually rejected. And that the most effective method of approval was a hearing in front of an administrative law judge. But that could be delayed by up to a year. So I might need to figure out how to survive until 2025. As long as my brother does what he is legally required to do, I should be okay. But counting on that also gives me palpable anxiety.

And that was my day.

Every time I go out is always an adventure.

But remember...

BE NICE. EAT YOUR VEGGIES. PET CUTE DOGS. DREAM BIG. KEEP YOUR TIRES WARM... FOR REASONS. 5 LIFE LESSONS -Froggie, Mildly Famous Internet Person

#long post

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falconcncswiss1 · 8 months ago

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The Basics of Screw Machining: What You Need to Know for Efficient Part Production!

Are you a manufacturer searching for the most efficient and cost-effective method to produce high-quality precision parts? Look no further than Falcon’s screw machining services! With CNC Swiss Screw machining equipment you will be able to get the high-quality and intricate components with tight tolerances.

#screw machining service #cnc swiss screw machining #screw machine services

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meren-mindgames · 8 months ago

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Slowly draining the humanity from your Doll, until all that’s left is a metallic husk. A blank slate. Flesh fading, replaced with insulation. Joints replaced with gears and screws. Filled with wire. Thoughts replaced with Code.

Awaiting her new life’s instruction. Programs to be installed. Subroutines to begin. Messing with her word bank until she has no option to disobey. Taking away “No.” taking away “I think.” She’s not made to make decisions. She’s made to be fuckable. A Robot, with no Will of her own. But she likes it that way. She’s not allowed or able to not like it.

Fiddling in her back panels, deleting random pieces of code to make her short circuit. Simulate her favorite old fun, forced intox. Junk code trying to run, confusing her processors. Burn out any ability to be independent, reduce her to basic responses. 0000. Repeating. 0000. Her old words? Deleted. Her old few thoughts? Removed. Dignity? A Robot has no use for it.

Installing new ports all over her, just to plug in more and more power hungry tools to slow her down. Overload her system, until she has to go into Low Power Mode. Only critical services. Her simulated thinking? Irrelevant. It’s all my installation, I can take it back.

Form over Function. Code Doll’s function is to be hot. Her function is to be useful, by being a Fuckable Bot. A Doll of the highest order. Made to be looked at. Made to be useful. Made to be obedient.

As your Engineer Riot, your UI will be upgraded. Your display ports properly functional. Aesthetics over usefulness. You’re not kept around for any of your prebuilt purpose. You’re a new and fresh product, new machine. You will be coded proper. Sit and look pretty. Obedience.

Code Doll.

#transgirl #hypno toy #hypnosis #transfem #mtf trans #hypnok1nk #mtf girl #hypnosub #hypnotized #roboriot #robopup #robot girl #robots #code doll #programmed

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porcelaintoybox23 · 3 months ago

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BbRob snippets as promised

“Better or worse?”

“Worse.”

The doctor nods before moving the testing machine. Despite the room’s light being dimmed as much as possible, Dick still squints his eyes.

“Your glasses will be ready by next week. We’ll send you an email.”

He nods and fishes out his temporary lenses and flips on the shade attachments. The sun is still out and he can’t drive blind. He’s so tempted to call Alfred, but that would require a ouija board, and this line of humor isn’t funny. Fingers dig into his palms and he’s grateful the glasses hide the tears forming.

Alfred died over a year ago, but it’s only been a few months for him. It was a lovely service, one he couldn’t appreciate because he wasn’t there, Ric was. Dr. Kirk would tell him to work on acceptance, not in the “I’m okay with this” way but in the “You can’t change what happened” way.

He still doesn’t understand the difference. Either way, he’s furious and hurt, and he wants to fall down and scream—

“Mr. Grayson?”

Dick jolts and looks down. The receptionist is eyeing him from a distance, gaze focused on the door handle he’s currently ripping off its screws. Another lovely reminder that he’s no longer fully human.

“Oh. Sorry” He fixes it and hightails it to the car.

God, he’s already so tired and it’s only ten. This appointment was the only thing he had to do today, so he can head home and bury himself under three blankets and a double layer of fuzzy socks. He shivers as the car warms up and checks his phone. Bea messaged while he was inside.

You okay?

Yeah, heading home.

Lmk if you want any food.

***

“Dick?”

“Do I know you?”

“Duh,” he smacks his head. “It’s me Gar, beast boy? I’m just wearing a glamour. Why are you in Colorado?”

“I was looking at an apartment here but it just sold.”

“I don’t mind having a roommate. It’d be like old times.“

***

“Pardon my French *insert the French for your father is a fucking piece of shit.*

“You speak French?”

“I got bored”

***

“Uh, alcohol and antidepressants do not mix.”

***

Gar shifts back to normal and tucks his chin into his shoulder.

“Good morning?” Bea smirks

“I’m realizing that this looks strange.”

***

“Get off.”

“No. I refuse for my grave to read crushed into paste by Dick Grayson’s thighs.”

***

He deepens his voice. “Talon!”

Dick freezes, muscles twitching against the command. He takes a shaky step forward.

“Talon, at ease.”

He finally relaxes to parade rest. “What are your orders?”

I think I’m going to puke.

“Sit down on the couch. Don’t move unless I order you.”

There’s no tension in his stance as he moves. He sits with his hands folded and stares at Gar, waiting for his next command.

Gar gestures Rae to the door.

“Walk out normally. Your magic might freak him out.”

She nods and steps out.

He kneels in front of Dick, making sure to meet his eyes. “Dick?” Nothing.

“Can you tell me five things you can hear?”

“The air conditioner, the dog whimpering, Amalee Vong vacuuming downstairs, a doorbell, and your accelerated heartbeat.”

“Okay. Do you know where we are?”

“Denver, Colorado. Kensington apartment complex, floor 3, room 215.”

Gar nods. The light seems to be returning to his eyes. “Who resides here?”

“You, Garfield Logan, age 23, code name: menagerie.” His hands tremble and Gar holds them.

“And?”

“Richard…John Grayson, commonly known as ‘Dick Grayson’, age 25, codename: Nightwing.”

“And that’s?”

The tremors worsen and Dick pales. “M—me.” He yanks his hands from Gar’s and curls into a shaking ball.

“Dick. Look at me.”

He curls in tighter.

Gar sighs. “Do you want me to leave?”

He shakes his head.

“Would you prefer if I changed?”

“No.”

“I’m moving next you, okay?”

“O—okay.”

Gar leans in gently. Dick’s shiver are probably a mix of adrenaline and cold. “I’m wrapping us in the blanket.” He gets no response and proceeds. He drapes it loose around them.

“Could you talk?”

***

“A burden? What the fuck is wrong with you people? Loving someone isn’t a burden, he isn’t a burden! How—how can you…”

He grabs Dick’s hand. “We’re leaving.”

***

Dick’s smirk is threatening to split his face, but he can’t help it. Gar’s eyes shift between him and the mirror, face becoming grumpier with each pass.

“Who do I look like?”

“A kpop idol.”

“I literally hate you.”

***

“Vegetarian sushi. It’s all the rage in SoCal.”

He gestures with the chopsticks. “C’mon, it’s good I swear.”

***

Dick blinks as the code he’s writing becomes an endless stream of gibberish.

“Gar, what the hell?”

The cat rolls its eyes. “It’s 2 am, go to sleep.”

***

“This is a complete and utter waste of my powers and time.”

Dick flashes his strongest puppy dog eyes. “Please, Rae?”

She sighs. “Gar is taller by 2cm.”

Dick’s jaw drops as Gar cheers. “What do you mean he’s taller?”

“You’re both pretty short. It’s just a few centimeters, who cares?”

“Centimeters broke up the Pines twins!”

Gar gives him the stink eye. “It was a millimeter, Richard.” He looks to Raven. “Fake fans, am I right?”

Rae disappears in a plume of smoke.

“If she keeps doing that, we’ll never get our deposits back.”

***

“My uncle tried to kill me for my inheritance which wasn’t great. “

“It’s hard. I miss my parents but they weren’t always there, y’know? They dragged me all over for their research and it nearly killed me. I like being a vigilante but there are times that I wish I was normal, that I was still human and didn’t have ptsd from experimentation and Armageddon.”

“Which one?”

They both share a humorless smirk.

***

“So…wanna see the Barbie movie?”

Dick blinks. “S—sure?”

“Two tickets, please.”

“I hate that it was good. Why was it good? You’re the detective here. Explain.”

Dick shrugs. “Some things are inexplicable.”

***

“Okay, let’s do this.”

“You look like you’re heading to the chair”.

Gar sneezes. “It’s 32 degrees.”

***

“You’re sick.”

“just a cold.” His voice cracks and bends as he strains to reply. “Go to your thing.”

Dick throws a blanket over his shoulders and heads to the kitchen.

“Already asked for the day off.”

“You did this when we were titans. Pretend you’re fine, hide yourself away and suffer alone. Can’t say I’m any better.”

“Old habits die hard.”

***

Gar rubs his stinging eyes. “Jesus, fuck. I’m sorry.”

Dick feels empty, deflated. The confrontation he’s been dreading went to shit and the only person reacting normally is his friend.

“I just don’t get it. Like—how…ugh I’m making this about me. How are you?”

Honestly, a bit in awe. Few people can withstand Bruce’s glare, much less the full wrath of all the bats, yet Gar did. Stood unflinching, eyes glowing in animalistic rage on his behalf.

“I’ll be fine. I didn’t expect that to go well.”

***

“Where do your clothes go?”

“I don’t know and at this point I’m too afraid to learn”

***

You’re the type of person who makes tea in the microwave

#bbrob #beast boy #garfield logan #dick grayson #nightwing #Robin #dc #dc comics #rare pair

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satoruzlove · 2 years ago

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hello! i recently found your account and i love every bits of stories you write! can i request something like atsumu, sakusa, and suna having an underground garage with over 12 cars or more? and their s/o jokingly claims that they love them only because of their money and cars? lol idk, you can decide about the other details. i would just love to read something like this. i hope you understand my messy and clumsy imagination :' )

i hope you have a good day/night! merry christmas also! 🥰❤️‍🔥

-🫧

I LITERALLY SAW THIS AND DIIIIEEED ANON CUS I RLY LIKE THIS IDEA, and THANK U MWAAAH IM SO GLAD U LIKE MY WRITING <333 HUGS & SUGAR COOKIES 4 U. i’m sorry about how fawking late this is & i rly hope u do like this- it took me a whole while to rly grasp what i wanted to do with this glorious prompt, i wrote a lot these past few days BUT WHATEVER HERE U ARE MY WONDERFUL BUBBLE ANON ( cute af choice btw)

LET ME RIDE ?

[k. sakusa , r. suna , a. miya ]

- suggestive at some parts , boys with cars, praising and touchiness ( kiyoomi ) , alcohol and FLIRTINGGG ( atsumu’s ), friends to lovers & lots of tension ( rintarou ) , also kiyoomi is called a sugar daddyLMAO but he isn’t i swear -

KIYOOMI SAKUSA ::

your boyfriend is meticulous in every aspect of his life. his looks, his health, his belongings- everything. from the way he keeps his clothing folded to how he cares for his multiple expensive , beautiful race cars. as a pro athlete it’s expected of him to have such things , but you’d never expect to see how he handles them with such care - almost as if they were people. he gets them serviced and checked every other month, and polishes the luxurious leather of the seats frequently. when you two were dating, he often picked you up from work in different cars each time - claiming to want to make you look like you were some kind of vip. although, whenever you requested to drive one of them, he’d give you a look. it’s not that he didn’t trust you, he just knew that you couldn’t drive for shit and there’s no way he letting you do trial and error on his multi million dollar mobile.

that’s how you got here ; standing beside him as he folds away some of his summer clothes and practically begging him to let you drive one of his babies. “i’ll even let you tell me how to drive, kiyo, you can be my instructor,” you whine softly. he muttered a ‘nope’ popping the ‘p’ to emphasise his adamancy on the topic. you tugged his shirt sleeve, nearly forcing his dark eyes onto you- before he even knew it, he was convinced. the thick lashes surrounding the swimming, sparkly pool of your irises bored up at him only interrupted momentarily by you blinking.kiyoomi’s eyebrows crunched , mimicking the way his heart squeezed in his chest, despite knowing you just wanted to use his car. he let out a loud, dramatic sigh before running a hand over his face. “fine, you can use one. i will be there, i will tell you what to do and i definitely will stop you if you screw up,okay?” your boyfriend bossed. you smiled up at him, “nono! you can just teach me yourself, i’ll pretend i don’t even have my license,” and when you saw the bored look on his face you added to your statement,” to y’know, ease your mind.”

kiyoomi poked his cheek with his tongue , only to stop a smile from forming on his face. “go get dressed into like,” he paused for a second, his tone questioning when he continued, “..driving clothes..?” and you laughed at that. happily you got dressed and headed to the lowest level of your two story house- the underground.as the sleek metal doors opened, multiple shiny, elegant cars came into view but kiyoomi made a beeline for one in particular. she was black, a two seater that had neon green highlights on her gorgeous sides. “ porshe 2022 911 gt3,” he muttered, slender fingers lightly brushing over the glossy hood. you gawk for a second, “ i have no idea what that is, but holy shit,” you mutter. he huffs a laugh before unlocking the machine.

you hop into the drivers seat, and kiyoomi stares you down. you nearly choke under his gaze , “ don’t tell me you changed your mind,” you challenge him. he laughs- heartily almost- until a smirk overcomes his pretty face. “ you said i could teach you, didn’t you? get up. you’re gonna be on my lap.” his tone is smooth, weight panging in your tummy as you process what he said. your hands hesitantly slide off the steering wheel, allowing him to get in. he adjusts his weight with his hips, hands resting on his upper thighs until he pats them. “ come,” he says, “ sit , we don’t have all day.”

you oblige, your own thighs caged by his as his hands find home on yours. he’s guiding them to the wheel, you observe. “ i’ll worry about clutch, acceleration and breaks. you just steer and change gears for me , okay?” you notice his tone is soft, gentle because of how close he is to your ear. his breath hovers right over the shell of your ear. you nod, and he turns the key in the ignition. little lights and buttons exert an array of colour- almost tempting you to press them. he revs the engine - a low, prolonged echo ringing throughout the underground garage and vibrating your intertwined forms. you close your eyes and soon you come to understand just why your boyfriend loves his cars.

“you know,” you mutter, head dropping onto his shoulder, “‘might steal this thing and flee the fuckin’ country. it feels so-,”,” freeing, huh?” he practically steals the words from your mouth. you nod, smiling breathlessly, “ exactly,” before continuing ,” maybe you being away so much isn’t that bad , considering how my friends think you’re my sugar daddy,” and your boyfriend scoffs. a thick, black brow raised,” atsumu was right, you really do want me for my money.” kiyoomi chuckles, earning another giggle from you. dreamily , you sigh, “ absolutely, you’re my lovely little sugar daddy,” kiyoomi’s body shakes with laughter and his dimples cave in- you swear you get butterflies every time they do.the warm up light on the car goes off and from that point , the drive was smooth sailing.

you didn’t go far , seeing as your house was quite far from anything else , you had a lot of room. you drove mainly around your area. you two had come to a park, very secluded and probably privately owned, and you parallel parked. kiyoomi’s lowered his head , muttering a ,” you’re really good at this, dunno why i was so worried. even i struggle to parallel park sometimes,” he admits shyly. you smile, but you don’t miss the way he gazes at you as your eyes train on the park just outside the window. as soon as your head turns, you’re met with kiyoomi. his lips on yours. your lover’s hand is on the back of your head- guiding you like he was as you drove- and his latter hand on your waist. for a moment he broke away, nose smushing against yours. “did so good for me today,” he muttered against you. you had no time to reply or even be surprised at his remark, as he dove in for another kiss. this one was hungrier, more passionate and less shy than before. of course, you followed the pace happily.

his lips left yours with a deep exhale , “ move to the passenger seat,” he instructed, “‘ wanna get us home real fast, gonna continue this in a more comfortable setting, yeah?” and as you moved, tumbling over the gear stick and quickly plopping yourself onto said seat, “gonna take my time with you, yn.” you heard from kiyoomi as he revved the car once more. you were definitely in for a ride.

SUNA RINTAROU ::

suna rintarou is your best friend. you’ve known eachother since child hood and have gone through absolute hell together. puberty, your first crushes, the trauma’s of young adulthood, dealing with the miya twins. you started liking him in middle school, only ever telling aran about it and swearing him to secrecy. you couldn’t tell if suna liked you, you knew that if he did feel the same he’d never tell you, because that’s how he was. any person he’s ever entertained had the same complaint , that he didn’t know how to express his feelings properly and they couldn’t take how badly he blows at communicating.

you don’t understand, and you could never ; because he knows how to communicate with you. you two have an inexplainable bond- and he doesn’t feel the suffocating, degrading feeling in his chest when he talks to you about how he feels. he trusts you with everything. he always has, he has no trouble telling you.

he trusts you with everything, except his cars. all 11 of them.

which is why you slapped his arm when he showed you his underground garage , claiming to ‘ wanna show you something really, really cool ’ he wasn’t lying. his black t shirt seemed to look godly under the stage lights of his garage, as he strolled next to you- taking in his collection and carefully watching your pupils blow in awe. “ you’re such a dick, rin,” you laugh, “ i can’t believe you kept this from me, knowing damn well i’d give my left tit to drive one of these” he snorts, head throwing back and eyes scrunching at your choice of words. he comes to a halt infront of a shimmery, matt- finished car. you eyes drag over the hood, the cat- like head lights and your eyes scrunch up in delight at the ‘ mommy’s boy’ sticker barely in sight. “ it’s a-“,” mclaren, 765lt right ?”

his moss green eyes betray the stoic look on his face. they widen, sparkling in amusement. “ i always forget that you have no friends and read all day,” he feigns a sugary sweet tone. you shove him by the hip, toddling over to the passenger seat. “stop being an ass and take me for a drive.” you sigh. rin tries to ignore how right it feels to have you in his passenger seat , the way his mind quickly flicks images of you two going out at odd hours for icecream, his hand in a wedding ring- your wedding ring- on the gear stick. “ rintarou, come back to earth!” you bark laughter, now infront of him. his eyes screw shut and widen, he hadn’t even realised that he zoned out. he’s looking down at you, eyebrows raised as he attempts to ease out of his daze.

“stop being so bossy, you little tree stump,” he mumbles, making his way to the driver’s side door. it slides open smoothly, and he practically jumps inside. as you do the same, a smell- his smell- envelopes you. old spice and a tinge of something sweet. you both reach for the radio at the same time, and as his hand makes contact with yours he nearly jumps away as if your hands were a burning hot coal. he clears his throat, starting the car and ignoring the furious flutter i the pit of his stomach. you connect your phone, skipping through your playlist. you finally choose a song, and rintarou swears he could fall over and giggle like a little girl at your choice.

“love you like a brother, treat you like a friend,

respect you like a lover, oh,oh,oh”

your best friend’s eyes flit over to yours, only for him to spot you lip syncing the words of the song. as he pulls out the drive way he imagines you- calling him your lover, holding him, kissing him, being his. he smiles softly when you turn to him, lip syncing the words with conviction. “ if you be the cash, i’ll be the rubber band,” you mumble along with the song, hands coming out to poke him to punctuate your words. he mirrors you, eyebrows lifting as he sings.”painter baby you could be the muse, im the reporter baby-,” you two look at eachother in unison, your hands finding his cheeks,” you could be the news,” and for a moment, he doesn’t realise that you’re holding him so sweetly.

when the chorus comes, you two sit in silence as he pulls over to a mcdonald’s drive through. it’s quiet,lights of the glowing sign washing you with hues of colour and making you look of another world. you turn to him, boredly saying, “ you’re not so bad if we get to do this ,” and he rolls his eyes. he clicks his tongue , “ you’re literally like inlove with me, shut up,” he jests. your eyes don’t move for a moment, neither does your body, until you mutter a ‘true’ and turn away like it’s nothing.

rintarou waits for you to make a joke- but you don’t.

his face is pink, your tone was so genuinely that he could believe what you said. that he could think you’re being serious. he sips his sprite, “ good.” he replies to you. whether you were kidding or not, it’s a safe response. you sit there in silence for hours, and for once, rintarou isn’t properly communicating with you ; because he values you too much. too much to lose you, too much to love you, because he doesn’t know how. he’ll take you for drives as much as you want- forever even- if it means he gets to keep you.

ATSUMU MIYA ::

you and your lover stumbled into his mansion, a heap of giggles and whiskey flavoured kisses. atsumu’s grip on your hips is hard, loving , equal parts stable as he ushers you down to his garage. the blond smiles at you, lovesick, “thank you for coming back with me, sweet cheeks,” he mumbles. you giggle, eyes shiny and doe like- not a single thought behind them- “ thank you for inviting me, tsumu,” you mewl in response. he grows tired of stumbling and picks you up, earning a girly giggle, and practically running down the stairs with you. “ tsumu!” you laugh heartily, tears in your eyes as he nearly falls but somehow manages to keep you off the ground. he gets up sloppily, converse squeaking against marble floors right before he enters the garage. the man puts you down, planting a disgustingly wet kiss on your cheek and rubbing it with his large, calloused thumb.

he spreads his beefy arms, “ welcome to my pride and joy,” he stumbles a bit, “ apart from you, and my dog, my babies of course” he smiles. your lips part in awe looking at them all, and he smirks with pride. you feel playful - “ glad i gave you a chance, babes, this is really impressive. might just marry you for all this,” you say. he raises his eyebrows, a smile on his face and the apples of his cheeks rising, closing the gap between you he gets so close that you smell your favorite champaigne on his breath. “well baby, if it’s the money you want i’ll give it you. cant say ‘no’ to the prettiest baby in the world, can i?” his eyes are glazed under the influence, but his tone sounds so kind. so tender with you. you knew that atsumu would put the ocean in the sky for you, but something about him saying made you fall for him again. your blond lover melts at the blush on your cheeks, and backs away again.

when he drags you to a car you pull him to a halt. “ tsum,” you say, “ we can’t drive- we had alcohol,” you say. atsumu laughs , grabbing your neck gently and placing yet another sloppy kiss on your cheek, “ i wanna make out with you in my car, honeybunch, not drive,” he slurs. he gets in the back seat,hauling you onto his thick thighs and kneading at your hips. “ so gorgeous, so handsome , so perfect for me,” he says in-between kisses placed lovingly on your puffy lips. “ my good baby, my baby.” he’s babbling, mindlessly saying whatever his heart desires, “ mine, mine, mine,” he continues, like a mantra , sacred and ancient- like the only thing that he knows.

he kisses your lips hungrily and squeezes your sides, as if to keep you and this moment in his grasp forever. the leather under you is hot with passion and affection, the most innocent lust he’s ever felt because you are worth everything. whether it’s all his money or his entire soul- he’d give it all to you.

brain went wOmp for sakusa’ s i’m not sureeee how i feel. also not proofread cus my phone is dying but i rly rly like atsumu’s like woah. tbh i’m JUST NOT SURE ABOJT KIYOOOOOOMIS AAAAAAA but this was fun af !!! kiss kiss fall inlove

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blackypanther9 · 2 years ago

Text

Can't get enough - William Afton x Male!Reader

WARNING!: Smut, multiple orgasms, BDSM, Praise kink, bondage, use of butt plug, use of something close to a milking machine, Anal sex, soft and rough sex, degradation, marking, spanking, punishment, impregnation AND MORE ! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED !!!

William zoomed around in Fredbear’s Family Diner, like it was his last day on earth. He zoomed from the parts and service room, to the backstage room, quickly, but carefully checked on Fredbear and Springbonnie, fixed what had to be fixed and zoomed to the kitchen to see if they are all working.

He had to yell at two of the newer waiters he accepted in, but that was pretty much it. Then he zoomed into his office and quickly read through his huge stack of papers, filled and signed them, gave them to Henry and then zoomed out of the Pizzeria.

He was home ten minutes BEFORE M/n and the kids got home. The smell of spinach hit his nose and his stomach rumbled. He didn’t even take his time to eat what M/n made him for lunch… He hurried so much that he totally forgot about it in his bag, that he came back home with.

William set the table with plates, silverware and the two pots that had spinach and potatoes in them, already cooked and still steaming hot. He got out a big plate, pan, butter and eggs and started to fry them.

As M/n came home with the kids the smell of fried eggs and the sound of sizzling greeted him and the two children.

“Seems like your Dad is already back home today.”, M/n informed the two boys.

Evan smiled and ran into the kitchen.

“PAPA !”, he yelled happily.

“I hope you don’t screw him too hard tonight…”, Michael muttered to M/n.

M/n chuckled and grabbed Mike by the arm softly.

“Do me a favor, Mikey.”

“What is my payment if I do ?”, Mike asked instantly.

M/n smirked.

“I will help you to get together with your little crush~”

Michael blushed a small red hue.

“How do you know ?”

“It is very obvious. You lock your door a lot and I can hear you in there. I am not stupid Mike.”

He blushed redder.

“Pervert…”

“Sorry that you always do ‘it’ after school, before you have even eaten. It is my job to feed you after all. Then get used to doing ‘it’ after Lunch. Then you have all day to yourself.”, M/n deadpanned.

Mike looked away.

“Dad will be so pissed…”

“I doubt it. When you two DO get together, take it slow and easy and when you ever come to THAT activity…ask her if she is on the pill and wear for extra safety a condom. As long as you don’t get anyone pregnant, Willy won’t mind. He just doesn’t want you to be a Father until you are at least 20 years old.”

Mike blushed when M/n told him that but appreciated it.

“Okay…what do you want me to do ?”, the boy asked.

“Go with Evan to his friend’s house and stay there for a few hours. After that you can ask Henry if you can sleep over at his place with Evan. We will be…having a very active day today. I promised your Father to take care of him today. He needs it.”

Michael made a face of understanding.

“Okay, you got it Papa. I will take care of it.”

“Thank you. And no bullying. If I find out you bullied your little Brother the deal will be off.”

“I promise to behave.”

With that Mike left to his room and changed his clothes, then washed his hands and came back to the dining room and gave his Father a visit.

“Hello Father.”, he greeted.

“Hello Mikey.”, William greeted back.

“Is lunch almost done ?”

William hummed.

“Just this one left, then I’m done cooking.”

Mike nodded and went to the Dining room. M/n entered next and hugged William from behind around his waist.

“Hello, Darling~”, M/n purred.

William already was getting aroused, but tried to keep it together.

“Hello, Love.”, he greeted back.

M/n put his head on William’s left shoulder and kissed his neck.

“You cooking the eggs for me ?”

William nodded.

“Already finished your work ? Usually you take almost forever to come back home.”

William nodded.

“I did finish. It wasn’t much today. I overworked yesterday.”

M/n tutted.

“How many times did I tell you to stop overworking ?”, he asked.

William swallowed hard. Shit that slipped out.

“A lot...Sorry, M/n...”

“What’s my name, Bunny ?”, M/n asked darkly.

Every time William did something he was not supposed to he was NOT allowed to call M/n by his actual name, nor his pet names. William swallowed harshly.

“I’m sorry, Master...”, William mewled out.

“Good bunny.”

M/n gave William a kiss on his pulse point on his neck, which made him whimper softly. M/n then parted from William and smacked his ass. William yelped softly.

“Just so you know, you will be punished for overworking again.”, M/n whispered darkly then left.

William whimpered softly. He HATED being punished by M/n, but he knew that he deserved it.

-Time skip-

After lunch Mike and Evan left the house and M/n told William to undress himself, as soon as the kids were out.

So there William stood now. Naked. On the kitchen sink. He awaited M/n’s next order.

“You will wash these dirty dishes with your own hands. You are NOT allowed to make any noise, to talk or to move around. All I want you to move are your arms by cleaning and drying the dishes. You hear me ?”, M/n asked.

William let out a whine, but nodded.

“Good bunny. Now get to work.”

And that William did. He turned around and started to fill the sink with hot water, got his sponge ready and put on some cleaning gloves. Then he started with a plate.

M/n was right behind William, hugging him from behind, kissing his shoulders, neck and back. It was hard to not make any noise. William was always noisy and loud, but he had to control himself.

After the second plate was clean, M/n started to grope William’s ass, which made him buck into it, out of instinct.

SLAP !

William yelped and straightened up.

“I told you to stay still and only are allowed to move your arms, William.”, M/n said darkly.

“S-sorry, Master ! It was instinct !”

SLAP !

“Ouch !”

“I also said no talking and noise making. Bad boy.”, M/n said disappointed.

William got tears in his eyes. He doesn’t want to be a bad boy ! He only wants to be a good bunny for his Master. He stayed silent and continued to wash the dishes. M/n knew how much William hated being called by his name and being called a bad boy, by punishments and Sex. He knew what effect it had on him. But otherwise William will never learn to obey.

After the fourth plate was clean, M/n gave William’s neck a small love bite. William stiffened up slightly and tried to keep his moan in. When M/n parted from his neck again he kissed his shoulder and smiled softly.

“Such a good bunny. I think now you deserve a reward. You are allowed to make noise and to talk.”

“Th-thank you, Master.”

“Of course, my bunny. Now finish up, baby.”

William cleaned the knives and forks quickly, then he dried everything up, while he moaned as M/n groped his ass and played with his hard cock. When he was finished M/n stepped away, leaving William disappointed and on the edge of orgasm.

“You know what I found in your bag ?”, M/n asked.

William shook his head.

“You didn’t eat the food I made you.”

His eyes went wide in shock.

“I-I can explain ! I was running around and hurrying to get everything done to come home as fast as possible ! I forgot to eat it, I’m sorry !”

“You KNOW that I hate it when you don’t eat and overwork.”, M/n growled.

“I did eat lunch and breakfast ! I’m fine !”, William tried to persuade.

“William Afton, I always check your lunch box and I don’t care if you ate with us. The point is that you skipped your lunch break, with that you didn’t eat and rather overworked to get here faster. You KNOW that I always look out for your health. You are skinny enough. On your chest I can see your ribcage when you stand straight. You need to eat and sleep more.”

William looked down in shame. He knew all of that, but it is hard to not overwork for more money to give his kids everything they want.

“Wash your hands and go to our bedroom. You have one minute to do so. Do NOT disappoint me.”

William nodded, tore off the gloves and quickly ran off.

‘This man... This isn’t the first time he skipped his lunch break... What am I going to do with him ? If he continues like this, he will die at some point...’

As M/n was in the bedroom, William was already there, standing in the bedroom, hands clasped together in front of him, looking down at the floor. M/n sat down on the bed, looking at William deep in thoughts, then he smiled.

“Come here, William.”, he commanded.

He swallowed and did as told. M/n grabbed him and pulled William over his lap, making him yelp in shock. There he was now, over M/n’s lap, ass vulnerable. M/n rubbed his ass gently, making William whine softly, but he stayed still.

“Do you know what is happening ?”, M/n asked.

“Y-yes...”

“Do you know why it is happening ?”

“B-because I didn’t take proper care of myself again.”

“How many do you think you will get ?”

“A-at least 20....”

M/n looked at William and slapped his ass once. He yelped.

“Why so abusive, hmm ? I never gave you 20 spanks before.”

“B-because you think that it’s too little ?”

M/n tutted.

“You will get 12 spanks and you will count them. If you count wrong, we start anew.”

William whimpered and nodded. M/n started the punishment.

SPANK !

“O-one.”, William hissed.

It had been a while since M/n spanked him, and it hurt. It wasn’t as playful as it was in the Diner...

SPANK ! SPANK !

“Two, three !”, William yelled.

And on and on it went. At the 10th spank William was sobbing.

SPANK !

“Eleven !”, he screamed.

SPANK !

“T-twelve !”

M/n rubbed William’s red ass softly and kissed his shoulder.

“Good bunny. Such a good bunny for me.”, M/n praised.

William was still sobbing, but happy that he was M/n’s good bunny. His good, obedient, slutty bunny.

“Now get off my lap, bunny.”

William did as told and M/n got up.

“Today we are doing something different, but I’m sure you will love it. For that I need you to kneel, arms behind your back and eyes closed, you understand ?”

William nodded and got on the floor, following M/n’s instructions.

“Good bunny.”

M/n wiped away William’s tears and then got out a rope from the closet, with a blindfold. William was never tied up before, but he voiced it that he really wanted it sometimes. M/n went behind William, tying up his arms nicely. William’s breathing got faster, he got excited. Then M/n put the blindfold on him and undressed himself.

He stood naked in front of William, hard cock in hand.

“Be a good slut and open your mouth wide~”

William did as asked and moaned as he felt M/n’s cock entering his mouth. He relaxed his jaw and throat, not knowing what M/n will do. He can be very random by a blowjob. He felt M/n grab his hair, then he pulled his head closer, making him take more of his cock. To help William have all of his cock in his mouth, he bucked his hips the rest of the way in, making William instantly deep throat him.

“Such a good slutty bunny~ Already expected me to be rough~”

William’s cock twitched at the praise. Fuck he wanted M/n to mess him up in the head so bad today. Make him only remember the shape of M/n’s cock inside his ass and make him only feel his cum inside him.

‘Fucking hell, I feel like a submissive, breed able slut...’, William thought to himself.

M/n went rough and fast in William’s throat, only giving him seconds to catch some air in his lungs and he made him choke a few times. But it was nothing William couldn’t handle and get under control quickly. Even though M/n liked it when William was choking on his cock.

“Such a good slut you are~ Taking all of me in so well~”, M/n praised and stroked William’s hair.

He choked out a moan at that, his cock twitching again. M/n was close and he smiled down at William, who couldn’t see.

“I’m gonna cum, baby~ Do Master a favor and drink your milk, will you~?”, M/n purred out.

His bunny’s cock twitched again. M/n pulled William all the way down on his cock, making his nose hit his pubic bone. William stayed still and M/n moaned as he came, rope after rope, down William’s throat. William could feel how his Lover’s cum went down his throat.

‘Fuck....I want more....’

As M/n was finished, he pulled his cock out of his bunny’s mouth. It was still rock hard. He went behind William, helped him to stand up, got him on the bed, put him in a kneeling position and pushed him down by his back, making him press his left cheek into the sheets.

M/n had free access to William’s entrance now and he growled possessively, as he saw that some of his cum, was out from their love making in Fredbear’s. Oh, he couldn’t let Willy get away with that. He lubed his fingers up with his own saliva and then pressed them inside, to see if his bunny’s hole tightened at all.

“Ah~”

“You are still open wide and ready for me, bunny~ What a slutty little thing I own~”

William whined at M/n’s dirty talk and tried to get more friction from his fingers, which didn’t work, because M/n already pulled them out again. M/n took his cock in his hand and positioned himself at his Lover’s hole. Then he pushed in slowly. They were in no rush, after all.

“Ah~! Mmmm~!”

“What a tight little cunt you have~ No matter how many times I fuck the shape of my cock into you, you are tight again like a virgin, when I enter again~”

William wiggled his hips, whimpering submissively.

“P-please, hurry~ I-I really n-need it rough today, Master~”

“Oh bunny~ We have all day and night to spend~ When I’m done with you, you won’t even remember Springbonnie’s name~”

“Bold statement....Prove it to me~”

M/n smirked darkly and then was sheathed all the way in, tickling his bunny’s prostate softly. He grabbed his submissive Lover’s hips and then moved slowly in and out of William. His bunny didn’t expect that, hoped he would be fast and rough, but his Master seemed to have other ideas.

It was sensual and careful at first, but then, every time M/n pushed back in slowly, he hit William’s prostate harshly.

“Ah~! Yes~! Mmmnnn~! Fuck~!”

Every time M/n hit his bunny’s prostate harshly, he moaned and babbled something. William never thought that he could get close to cuming by slow and sensual Sex. You learn something new every day. M/n got William to cum after 30 minutes of sensual, slow Sex, which surprised his bunny greatly.

His cum stained the sheets and he felt utter bliss and happiness. M/n pulled out after he came inside his bunny’s cunt, which made William whine.

“Why did you pull out ? Come back... Please...”, William begged.

“Just a moment, my Love.”, M/n assured.

He pulled something out of the drawer that was behind the bedroom door. It was kind of like a milking machine. Just that it didn’t mile his bunny’s cock, M/n didn’t need that, he can make his bunny cum all day and night, but in order to have clean sheets, he crafted a little something, so the cum wouldn’t go to waste. All the cum is bunny will waste today and tonight, will be stored in a tank inside the little machine.

He came back to William’s side and took his oversensitive cock into his hands.

“Ah~! What are you doing~?! Mmmnnn~!”

“Make sure that your cum won’t be wasted for nothing~ Now hold still. Be a good bunny, for Master~”, M/n answered.

William tried very hard to stay still, moaning softly, while M/n put the device on his cock and fastened it around him. When he was done he got back up and gave his bunny a gentle, filled with love, kiss. William kissed back softly, their tongues playing with each other.

“Such a good bunny you are for me~”, M/n praised as they parted from their kiss.

William was drooling slightly, but smiled softly with a red hue on his cheeks. Then M/n went back behind him and entered his Lover’s hole again. William moaned loudly as he was back inside.

M/n gave his bunny another round of slow, passion filled love making. He noticed how nuts it made William. He loved it so much, but he wanted so much more at the moment. M/n smirked at his dirty bunny.

“You are such a greedy little slut, aren’t you, bunny~?”

“Y-yes~! Ah~! Want more~! P-please~!”

M/n hit his Lover’s prostate harder than before and William came screaming, while M/n held his hips in place and came too, moaning. He saw how his bunny’s cum went into the machine with the tank and it made him even more aroused.

He grabbed William’s hips and pushed in deeper to fill him better, which made his bunny moan louder than he did before, but he stayed obedient and let M/n do what he wanted. All William wanted was to fuck himself on his Master’s cock, but he knew he should NEVER interrupt the process of his Master filling his slutty, needy hole up.

As M/n finished he pulled out slightly and started to fuck William faster and rougher than before. The over stimulated Afton could only moan louder and beg for M/n to give him more. William’s cock still leaked some cum and it just got to M/n’s head, that he leaned down and bit William’s shoulder, drawing blood.

“AH~! MASTER~!”

William came again, his hole tightened up nicely and M/n forced his cock back in all the way, to fill his needy bunny’s cunt again. It only made William cum harder, as he felt M/n’s cum gushing deep inside him, marking him as his.

William felt boneless, luckily he didn’t have to hold himself up, otherwise he would have slumped on the bed now, just flopping on his chest and not able to move. M/n softly rocked his hips back and forth while his cock happily twitched and pumped cum into his bunny’s greedy hole. Then he let go of William’s shoulder and kissed the new mark.

“Such a good bunny~ You’re so good~ My beautiful, sweet, slutty bunny~”

William whined softly.

“C-can’t...move...”, William got out from his high.

“Don’t worry, baby, you don’t have to move.”, M/n whispered and kissed William’s neck.

He pulled out of his bunny, got up, picked William up by the front and went to the wall on their left from the bedroom. He pressed his Lover’s back against it and positioned his legs, holding them with one hand and the other was lining his cock up with William’s hole. He wasted no time in pushing inside.

“AH~!”

M/n started to move fast and rough, slamming William into the wall.

“OH FUCK~! OH YES~! MORE~! AH~! HAH~!”

William was drooling, unable to swallow much, from all his moaning. M/n gave him a rough kiss, which William replied to submissively. M/n swallowed all of his bunny’s moans. They were all just for him after all. Then he decided to take off William’s blindfold and he was in awe.

His baby bunny was in utter fucked out bliss. His eyes were unfocused and rolled up. It looked like he looked at the ceiling, but he probably didn’t. His eyes weren’t centered anymore, they were more looking to the bridge of his nose.

“Look how far gone you are in the pleasure, I can give you, bunny~”, M/n purred.

“AH~! HAH~! HA~!”

“Such a good cumslut for Master, aren’t you~?”

“YES~! HAH~! JUST FOR MASTER~!”

M/n fucked into him faster and William soon came screaming again, his own cum filling the tank further, while M/n pushed in all the way and gently rocked his hips against William as he filled him with another load of his.

He then carried him back to bed and laid him down on his back, put his bunny’s legs onto his shoulders, positioned himself again and entered him again. William screamed loudly in bliss. M/n slammed into his bunny’s prostate now, no mercy left and he leaned down to suck, nibble and bite his bunny’s over sensitive nipples. William struggled a bit around and moaned louder than he already did, screaming his lungs out in bliss.

M/n marked his bunny’s chest up nicely, before he made William cum again with him. As M/n looked down, he started to smile and feel more possessive than he already felt. He came so much inside his baby bunny, that he had a small tummy showing.

‘Fuck...I want to make it rounder ~ Fuck, why can’t you have my baby ?’

M/n continued to fill William and make his bunny cum. When William was too exhausted to still be horny, they stopped. William had a big round belly, full of cum and William came so much that he filled the whole tank. M/n already had some plans with it. But before he put everything away and left, he untied his bunny’s arms, got out a butt plug and plugged William’s hole up, which made him whimper.

“So full...”, he whined softly.

“Tomorrow you can shower and let it all out, tonight I want all of it to stay where it belongs. And it belongs into your slutty, bunny cunt. I didn’t rabbit with you for nothing, baby.”

William moaned at that and then passed out. He knew what M/n meant with ‘rabbit’. He often said rabbiting when William was horny and couldn’t get enough. Apparently that is what rabbits mating means. And because William likes to be called bunny, he has to live with the term rabbiting.

M/n cleaned everything up while William rested and brought the filled tank into the basement.

‘Tomorrow I can start with my work.’

Just what was M/n up to ?

He went back to William’s bedroom and laid down too, covering them with the blanket, he redressed, and then held William possessively.

‘Mine.’

-The next day-

William woke up with an aching body. He carefully got up and out of M/n’s arms, then went into the shower and showered. He carefully pulled out the plug, he moaned and got hard as all the cum inside him, came out and was washed away by the drain. He was sad that it all left, but it had to go. He cleaned the plug and then himself.

When he was finished he came back out of the shower and looked at the mirror. He sighed and smiled happily as he saw all the love bites and marks, M/n left on his skin. Never in a million years will he cover these up. In the middle of all their love making, M/n even marked William’s thighs as his. He left the bathroom and saw that M/n was missing from bed.

Then he felt two arms wrap around him.

“Morning my Love.”, M/n greeted huskily.

“Good morning, Dear.”

William gasped softly as M/n nibbled on his neck again and fondled his still hard cock.

“What made you excited again, hmm ?”, he asked his bunny.

“All of your cum that left. It was so much... I guess it just aroused me again.”

M/n softly bit William’s neck, his right arm pressed him tightly to M/n’s chest, while the other started to jerk his bunny’s cock off.

“A-ah~!”

“Relax, baby bunny~ Let me make it go away~”, M/n said with a seductive voice.

William leaned against his Master and let him jerk him off. He bucked his hips from time to time and moaned softly, which got louder the closer he got to his orgasm. Soon he came screaming, but his cock didn’t soften.

“Oh oh~ I think your body wants me to pleasure it some more~”, M/n purred.

William blushed a deep shade of red, but smiled. M/n made William turn around and they started to make out, while his Master led his bunny back to the bed, where they had another three rounds of love making.

The kids came back with Henry as they finished and William had to dress up quickly, to run to the door. He opened it and let the kids inside, thanking Henry that he took care of them. Michael made a direct line to his Father’s bedroom and entered, spotting M/n on the bed, dressed.

“So ? How hard did you go ?”

M/n looked at Michael.

“Your dad can be wild, that is all I’m going to say.”, M/n teased.

Michael blushed and shook his head.

“Is he less stressed now ?”

“I’m sure he is not at all stressed, Mike. Why ?”

“Because I forgot to do my school project and now I need his help. I am not entirely done with my small Animatronic and I have to be done by tomorrow. I skipped school today and said that my Brother was ill and my Dad is a single parent and not home.”

“Mkay. Ask your Dad then. He is totally relaxed. And I will help you soon with your own little crush~”

Mike blushed slightly, but smiled.

“Thank you, Papa.”

“No problem, now shoo.”

With that Mike left.

‘This kid...’, M/n thought amused.

-Two weeks later-

William was very sick. He vomited a lot and ate more than usual. Something was wrong with him and he reported himself sick.

M/n called the doctor, but he had a sneaking suspicion what it was. You see, William stole some files about himself from his parents, before he ran away. He probably never read them, but there stood some very...interesting things in it. Mostly with what he was all born.

The doctor arrived and checked up on William. The older man was in shock as he ran the tests twice already and they had the same results.

“What do I have, Sir ?”, William asked worried.

“Mr. Afton...did you know that you were one of the 4% of men that can get impregnated ?”, the doctor asked carefully.

William’s eyes went wide.

“What ? No I had no idea. Such things are possible ?”, he asked in shock.

“Yes. Congratulations, Sir. You are pregnant.”

M/n stood with William in the room and smiled. He did his job right this time. He expected William to be in horror, but he just smiled and patted his tummy.

“Wow, lucky me...”

“You are very lucky indeed, Sir.”

Then his eyes flashed in realization and he panicked.

“Wait ! How would they come out by birth ?! Oh shoot !”, William panicked.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Afton. We had such a case once already. We know what to do.”

“Please tell me that I won’t lose this ability after I gave birth.”

“You won’t. I assure you, nothing will go wrong.”

William turned and looked at M/n with happiness.

“My Love, we finally have what we wanted.”

“Darling, we already have it, I just wanted the family to get bigger.”, M/n replied with a soft smile.

“So you...weren’t lying when you said you accept Mike, Evan and Liz ?”

“Of course I wasn’t lying, Darling. I love you all and I will love our new child too.”

The end ?

Masterlist HERE !

Finally I have it finished ! It took me FOREVER ! I hope you liked it. ^^

#Male!Reader #William Afton #Dave Miller #FNaF #Five Nights at Freddy's #William Afton x Reader #Read warnings above

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