#little fucker and hes only like 8

[greetingsfromuranus]

The Eds meet the main Home Movies trio how would it go

[talentforlying]

it makes me so happy to see all the john constantine love that's come out of the nbc show and legends. like that's a universal trash can fire of a man right there, not just my niche little weirdo anymore! i love it!!!

[bartohenchmanb]

First day with new puppy: omg, he’s so quiet I haven’t heard him bark once. He’s such a mellow little guy!

Third day: never mind, he’s comfortable now.

[batchilla]

False Accusations (You know I KNOW right? Chapter Two)

Let me first say thank you for all the kind reception part one received. It was … a surprise, and a welcome one.

Also, a massive thank you to @sunnie-angel for beta reading. If you haven’t read their work… Do yourself a favor and check out their masterlist!

This Chapter takes place over a few days in two mini stories., and I would appreciate being told if at any point this causes confusion. Currently how I’ve done it is as tilted segments. Content warning: this chapter has themes of sexual harassment in the workplace up to the point of groping (from an OC), and corruption. Proceed with caution. Be safe.

The morning after. You are going to murder your partner, Grayson. Perhaps with a gun. Maybe your own two hands. Or maybe you just need coffee.

It's probably the coffee thing. Coffee, then you’ll decide if you're going to kill him and how. As you sit at your table, surrounded by notes you’d made at 4am, the urge to throttle Grayson slowly subsides. You hadn’t slept a wink. You’d had a weird night. But if you were going to do this, help him find this killer… you’d need a plan for if it all goes to hell. A diversion. A plan so that if you’re made, maybe the killer will think you’re on the wrong track. A dummy investigation. But simultaneously one that you won’t overthink, so that you can devote your time and brainpower to the truth. Luckily for you, you have the perfect person to pretend to accuse. After all, your partner, Grayson, is an incredibly weird guy. 8:55 am finds you walking into the station sipping your third coffee of the morning, only to find Grayson sat at his desk. Shirt pressed, tie perfect, hair shampoo commercial glamourous yet slightly messy. The urge to murder your partner returns, just a little. How dare he be so… normal? So unaffected? How dare this man fight crime by night, and be smiling at you as he is now, chipper and bright and perfect, before 9am? The nerve. Maybe you could hit him with a patrol car and claim it was an accident. “Morning detective… Long night?”

Oh.. This fucker. Your partner, Grayson, is the most annoying man alive. You hate how badly you have to fight the urge to grin at the sheer audacity.

She looks exhausted, the poor thing. Dick remembered the feeling, but at some point he’d adapted to running on less sleep than was by any means reasonable. He hoped she wouldn’t need to. That this would be over in a few weeks and she’d be back to getting a full eight hours. “Morning Detective… Long night?” She glares at him like he’s caused personal offence. He raises an eyebrow at her to prompt a response. Inside though, he panics. Had he done something wrong? Could she suspect? No. no of course not. But whatever she said next would surely be important. It was a test of sorts. What would she say she’d spent the night doing? Would she betray his alter ego? Could she sell the lie if she didn’t? “Just had a night in, had a little too much to drink,” she shrugs, opening her bag and removing a notebook. Casual, calm, partially true and nearly impossible to disprove short of a blood test or breathalyser, and even then there was deniability. Dick nods, and looks back down to his computer to hide the grin that splits his face in half. He knows he can’t dwell on it, knows he can’t act on it, but it’s completely unfair that she was that smooth. That helpful. She’d agreed to help him - as Nightwing - instantly. Her words about how Blud owed him a debt had played in his mind on loop for the rest of his patrol. He knew what it felt like to fly. To flip through the air at dizzying heights, gravity a mere afterthought. It was cruel, frankly, that he’d found someone who made him feel even better than that, only for her to be someone he couldn’t be with out of principle and professionalism. It wasn’t that he objected to her as a partner - short of his family, she was possibly the best he’d ever met. Frankly, if she was transferred to Gotham, the bat signal would be turned on far less frequently. And he didn’t object to rules about dating fellow officers, especially one’s partner. Objectively it made sense. But it didn’t change the fact that her smile was the best part of his day. That on the rare times she laughed he could swear he heard an angel just straight up quit its position in the heavenly chorus out of pure envy. That when she’d said she’d help he’d wanted nothing more than to grab her face and kiss her till she was breathless. But he can’t. Or at least Dick Grayson can’t. A new voice breaks him from his spiralling thoughts. “Detective Grayson.” The man standing behind his partner's desk has a hand on the back of her seat, preventing her from swivelling around. 

“We haven’t met yet, I’m Sergeant James McElroy. Seems you spent most of my first day back stuck on a stakeout.” “Pleasure.” he responds, with all the charm he’s learnt to use at galas and parties, forcing down the venom incurred by the way his partner had seemed to lose a gallon of blood at the sound of his voice, and the way she had seemed not to breath since the name was spoken.

He's not touching you. Of course not. He knows better than to do anything so blatant. It's how he’d gotten away with it for so long last time. He doesn’t touch you, or say the things he was so clearly thinking. He would masterfully walk the line between making you feel unsafe, alone, and naked, while never crossing over into anything actionable. Till one day he had. It had been in a crowded lift where he’d used the crush as an excuse to grab and to feel, whispering something vile in your ear. 

He’d figured he’d gotten away with it when you tried to tell your captain and he’d asked if you had a witness. You’d thought he’d gotten away with it too. Till a uniformed officer, Janet Rodwell, had stepped up to have your back. You should have known, really. For the second time in 24 hours you feel like a fool. But while the first time it had been accompanied with a dizzying realisation of love, this time the realisation is dark and chilling to your core. You’d thought you’d won, that it was over. But he’s back and he’s not touching you, but you feel the ghost of his hands all over. You can’t win. He’d been sent away and you thought you were safe again, but he’s back and he’s a sergeant now. Because Bludhaven, as it is, rewards men like him. You can’t bring yourself to look over your shoulder at him, so you look straight ahead, across your desk and to your partner’s adjoining one.

It's not Dick Grayson’s eyes you meet though. They aren’t cheerful, carefree and beautiful. Well, they are beautiful. But they are angry, intelligent, and fierce. You meet Nightwings gaze, and you feel the claws around your lungs relax, even if they do not recede. 

His partner did not rattle easily. Did not panic unnecessarily. 

Pinned down by the Penguin’s smugglers, he’d thought their goose had been cooked unless he could work at his true capacity, so he had shot out the lights and gotten to work. He’d taken out nine, but been unable to find the tenth, until he’d heard the struggle. 

She’d taken him down blind, without drawing her gun. When he’d asked her why she hadn’t, she’d told him she’d lost sight of him in the chaos, and was unwilling to risk it. He wished he hadn’t shot the light out so he could have seen it. 

Still, he had been oblivious. It had hit him like a batarang to the face last night, in that moment where she agreed without hesitation to help him find a serial killer. He’d known she was beautiful, and brilliant. That he had a crush. 

He’d realised last night he was in far, far deeper trouble than that. So, if she was frightened and upset by the presence of this man, then Dick would take his looming over her as a serious threat. He trusted her gut. “You haven’t introduced yourself to my partner, Detective—-” He’s cut off with a dismissive wave that boils his blood. “Oh we’ve met. In fact, she was my partner first. Until the misunderstanding.” There are many ways to snap someone out of a panic. He’s seen sheer rage do it many times. As it does now. “There was no misunderstanding,” she says, her voice firm, her teeth gritted. “Well. I want you to know-” he moves from directly behind her, to her side, leaning down over her, invading her space. Dick wanted to hit him. “I understand that what I did could have been seen as invasive, and you may have felt that I overstepped. I have completed a course, as demanded by HR, and will attempt not to cause you to feel that I have been inappropriate again.”

She takes a deep breath. He can practically hear her count in his head. He stands, moving around the desk to stand beside her, not quite a barrier but a comforting presence, or at least he hoped. “Well. Whatever occurred, we have work to be getting on with, if you don’t mind.” It takes a great deal of the restraint his training has given not to add the words ‘you bastard’, or something far more creative. “But of course. Detective. Detective.”  

Your hands shake as you sit back down in your seat. Your partner, Grayson, returns to his own, his gaze - Richard’s gaze, never leaving your face, crumpled in concern. “I don’t want to overstep… but are you alright? What … did he do?” “I…” you want to tell him, in part. Or maybe you don’t, and you want him to know without having to go through the ordeal of rehashing it all. Maybe by consulting whatever ‘oracle’ he used as nightwing. But you can’t right now. So you don’t. “I… need some air.” Your partner just gives you a comforting smile, a nod, and lets you leave without question. Wingding in the window 

It's five days later, on his patrol, when he notices it. The wingding left in her window. He stops on the roof of the building adjacent to her. As far as city roofs go, this one’s relatively nice. Someone’s placed some potted plants around, in an eclectic attempt at a rooftop garden. Some of these pots contain small pebbles as cover for the soil from the wind. Grinning to himself, he takes a handful. 

Was this a good idea? No. 

Was it deceptive? Well, no more than anything else he did as Nightwing… well, maybe a little more. 

But it hurt, holding her at arm's length, when a part of his soul he tried to ignore yearned to be as close as she would allow. He knows it’s not good. He knows it’s a violation of the utter trust she seems to hold in Nightwing. Really, it would only make things even more messy for his chances as Dick. But he wants to make her smile. Blush, even. He knows she finds him attractive, and in both contexts, but he wants more than that. Over the last week he’s realised just how much he wants to have with her, and it terrifies him. 

If it was simple lust he could deal with it.  But it wasn’t, and so here he was, about to attempt the cheesiest move known to hallmark films, just to see if it would make her laugh at him again. 

He’d managed to be professional while surrounded by highly capable, badass women in skintight clothes for most of his life. He’d had crushes before and gotten over them. He wanted everything with her. And that was not something he knew how to handle, given the mess of their situation. Dick shakes his head, snapping himself out of his doom spiral. He had a detective to meet, and a serial killer to find.

Bap. Bap. Bap. You look up from your book. You’d been getting ready for sleep, wearing your cosy pyjamas, curled up in bed with a book and a hot chocolate. You go still, listening. Bap. Bap. A pause. Then, the rap of knuckles on glass. “I ran out of rocks”

You know that voice. “With you in a moment.” You pull on a dressing gown, and take a moment to curse the fact that your slippers are rabbits before pulling the curtains aside. Nightwing is crouched on your windowsill. You lift it, stepping back as he enters through the window with all the grace of a cat. You know that you shouldn’t be embarrassed to be in your pyjamas, it's late, you had no means of knowing when he’d arrive. But he looked divine in that suit. An adonis. And you're in your old bathrobe and bunny slippers. Truely, you must have done terrible things in a past life. “Nice footwear.” Nightwing says with a smirk. Curse him. Curse his cheekbones and the way his lips look so damn inviting. “You picked up what, five rocks?” you sass right back. Nightwing makes a noise you suspect was supposed to be a scoff, but is more of a squeak. “Do you see a lot of pocket space on this?” 

“Fair.” you say, leading him out of your bedroom and into your living room. He sits on your couch, one leg spread wide, the other’s ankle resting on its thigh, as you open a drawer on your coffee table and produce your masterpiece. Nearly five metres of red string. Names, photos, dates, all studded with pins so pressed so tightly in they haven’t a prayer of accidental removal. You prop it up on the coffee table. 

Maybe your friends were right. Maybe you did need to touch grass. A line of thought for later. You look at Nightwing, who’s no longer relaxed and laying back on your sofa like he owned the place. 

Its years of maintaining a poker face in interrogations and more recently, dealing with his shenanigans that prevents you from grinning. 

He's as pale as you’ve ever managed to see him, and leaning forward now, elbow on knee and chin in hand. “Well, this is… impressive.” He sounded like he’d inhaled helium. “Shall we start with Sergeant McElroy?” you offer, smiling your best ‘there’s nothing wrong’ smile, enjoying making him squirm. “You seem to have … a significant amount of evidence against Detective Richard Grerson?” You fight the urge to roll your eyes as you take a ruler, poking your picture of him between the eyes. You hadn’t planned to do him first, you’d hoped to discuss evidence that would actually lead somewhere. 

This was still going to be fun though. You take a deep breath, and pause for a suitable level of dramatic effect, and begin your game. 

“Detective Richard Grayson. He’s my partner. He’s an excellent detective, and a good man. You might have heard of the charity he founded.” Nightwing makes a noncommittal humming noise. “But is it all too good to be true?” you ask, moving to your first notecard. “Exhibit one. He asked about the file. On its own, innocuous. But then, exhibits two through four. He’s prone to frequent disappearances on cases. He often knows a little too much about the criminal underside of Blud. Things that I have triple checked are not in any police database.”

You run a hand through your hair. “He’s a highly trained combatant. I once saw him take down nine men armed with guns, in the dark. They don’t teach that at the police academy.” “No? No.” Nightwing says, clearing his throat. “I mean yes. That is… suspicious.” “Incredibly. Which brings me to exhibit five. Now I’m no behavioural analyst or shrink. But I know my basics. Childhood trauma and instability can have… lingering impacts. I… don’t feel the need to dredge up his past, but I did look into it… and it’s grim. He was then taken in by Bruce Wayne. His relationship to his father, whatever it is, is something he’s even tighter lipped about then… everything else honestly. It’s not on the board because it’s circumstantial at best… but he has this skill of being able to hold long conversations and yet you come away not having learnt anything deeper about him.” 

He was pretty sure he’d been nodding for a good thirty seconds at this point.  

It would be funny if it didn’t hurt so much. 

The worst part was that it was all well reasoned. Practical. He had done everything she accused him of. She had just drawn a far more down to earth conclusion, that he was a corrupt cop, rather than Nightwing. 

It made sense. Too much sense. How could he shut this down without seeming invested in his own innocence? 

That isn’t what causes his lungs to burn though. No. The root of that was that even if he’d forced himself to maintain a professional - if friendly - distance from her, he would have hoped that she trusted him. 

But in this moment, looking at the evidence, looking at her holding that ruler to his photo’s face like a judge's gavel ready to condemn… he knows. He knows that she will never look at Dick the way she does as Nightwing, happy to see him, believing in his mission, ready to help as soon as he’d asked. Even if he clears himself of this crime, she would surely suspect him of others. 

He’d known it, at least on one level, ever since he’d first met her. He knows it now all the deeper, and he wants to scream. Dick Grayson will never get to tell her how truly wonderful she is.

How highly he regards her. 

How she is one of the reasons he keeps fighting for Bludhaven. 

Dick Grayson will never get to tell her that he loves her. 

But… perhaps Nightwing could have something. Because if she was his north star, then the way he’d felt when she agreed to help him had been like being engulfed by a supernova. 

If she was water, then seeing her cosy and ready for bed and smiling as she let him in through the window had been an oasis in the Sahara. 

If music was the food of love, her attempts not to laugh and stifled giggles over his peeps popcorn had been a symphony orchestra. 

But he’d never have her as himself. Not at all. Nightwing though? She at least found him attractive. Aligned with his ideology. No, he’d never feel that warmth of 10,000 stars directed at the real him. 

No, he’d never be able to be quenched by her life saving presence. 

No, he’d never feel her laughter shaking his bones as if in a musical crescendo.

But even the dimmest and most distant star gave off some light.

Even the last drop in an empty water skin was better than nothing.

Even the memory of a melody could be sweet. True, he would only ever have scraps of her affection. True, he could flirt, and perhaps go even further… but he’d never truly be with her. 

But who was a starving man to deny scraps of sustenance? He’d take what he could have and try to ignore the lingering hunger. 

“Perhaps we should discuss… another suspect?” he prompts, realising how long he’s been silent. How long she had been too, watching him with a strange, concerned look.

She nods, and moves on to their Captain.

Dick is almost relieved when some ten minutes later Oracle calls in a robbery downtown. “Well - sorry Sherlock.” He takes a picture of her board for further study. “I’ll be around next week to continue this discussion, and look over this in my own time till then. Duty calls.” “Be safe,” She says softly, as he’s halfway through the window He looks over his shoulder. “As you wish.”

Taglist: @jasontoddproblems

@sunnie-angel

@stormz369

@love-theangel-blog

@torchbearerkyle

@interwebseriesfan24

@love-theangel-blog

@alwaysnervouswitchprince

@underlinekasis

@tiredsleepyandreading

@soradragon Banner credit is to @strangergraphics

If you would request to be added to my taglist, please reblog the fic. Honestly please just reblog it anyway? I worked hard on this. Nothing more demotivating than a fic getting only likes. If you want part three, reblog part two. 

[midwestprincesss]

PARTNERS IN CRIME | chapter 1

pairing: enemies to lovers patrick zweig x female!reader summer camp au

summary: after graduating highschool, both you and patrick look for a summer job. you, because you wanted to save some money before college. and him because he needed a place to sleep. you thought you finally got rid of him forever, after highschool. but it's patrick zweig, so c'mon.

a/n: it's a biiiit short i knoww but i'm tired so YEAH! sorry! loveu guys tho!!!!!!!!

contents: uh. some talk ab masturbation, patrick has a crusty cum sock but are we surprised, reader is literally patrick, they can't stand eachother but they also wanna fuck eachother, blahblahblah

taglist: @jackierose902109 @primlovesdilfs

prologue

''wake up.'' you heard a voice. a guy's voice. it took you a while to actually wake up and realize it was patrick, leaning against your door frame.

you groaned and threw your pillow at him. ''get the fuck out!''

he chuckled and picked up the pillow, throwing it back at you with more force. ''it's 8am. you have to get up, like, now.''

''ugh! why are you even in my room, zweig? have you been watching me or something? you fucking perv. go away!''you yelled, pulling the blanket over your head. and of course the fucker had to walk over to your bed and pull the blanket off of you.

''look, it's not my fault we got paired up in the same cabin. now if you stopped being a fucking bitch for once and got up, that would be great. we have to do the whole initiation bullshit with all those kids. get out of the fucking bed.'' he said and slammed the door.

it was an actual nightmare come true. patrick never had any concept of personal space, but you thought that maybe it was just a phase. turns out it wasn't. he looked almost ready to get into bed with you-but only so that he could push you off of it. not that you wished he would get into bed with you to do something else- no, ew. you'd sleep with anyone but patrick zweig.

but he did look good. and even though you didn't want to admit it, you knew it. he's tall, muscular and handsome. perhaps that contributes to your hatred for him. you couldn't stand it when he looked at you with those doe-like green eyes of his. or when he bit his lip at the most inappropiate times. or the way the muscles in his legs flexed when he was running. or how nice his freckles look.

but you were not attracted to patrick, god no. these were just little exceptions.

well, maybe this morning was an exception as well. the way he spoke to you turned you on, weirdly. he seemed so pissed off- he looks hot when he's angry. maybe that's why you get a kick out of annoying him.

you finally rolled out of bed with a groan, checking the time. it was, in fact, not 8 am, as patrick had told you, but 7:30. the fucker.

you decided on not going back to sleep anymore- mostly because you weren't that sleepy anymore but also because you didn't want to let your thoughts about patrick wander. the most ridiculous and embarassing thing would be to jerk off while thinking about that smug little bitch. you would have good excuses though- it was morning, you were just horny, blah blah blah. but still, the aftermath of it all would have been the most humbling experience ever so you decided it was best to just skip all of it.

after doing no efforts in making your bed, you headed to the bathroom to brush your teeth and put on a bit of makeup, then you put on a pair of shorts and a stupid t-shirt with the name of the camp on it. and just when you were about to leave the cabin, you noticed patrick's door was slightly open. would it realyyy be that bad if you looked around his room a bit?

no, it wouldn't. he barged into your room while you were still in there, sleeping, without even knocking. so it can't be worse than that.

you opened the door and looked around. it smelt like axe body spray and cigarettes. you looked up at the smoke detector and obviously it was covered with a shower cap. it was such a patrick thing to do. then, you noticed the fact that he hadn't made his bed. also a very patrick thing. but then you remembered your bed looks exactly the same so you quickly found something else to focus on- the fucking sock next to his bed. just one, singular sock on the floor- gross. so. fucking. gross. to think he was jerking his shit in a room right next to yours- just straight up gross. not hot- not hot at all. it's actually disgusting to think about him slowly stroking his big, throbbing dick with pretty moans falling from his lips (such a shame you didn't hear them). what was he thinking about? about you, maybe. but you hope it wasn't you, 'cause that would definitely not be hot- not at all.

when you opened the door you found patrick in front of the cabin, checking his phone.

you sighed, loudly, so that he could hear you. he did not react. you did it again- but still, no reaction from him.

you decided to break the silence. '' why the fuck did you come here? did you know i was gonna be here? your parents are fucking rich. you're basically swimming in money there, at your house. why couldn't you stay there?'' you snapped at him, slightly surprising yourself. you did plan on having this conversation with him, but you didn't expect it to happen so soon. it was like you were speaking without actually wanting to.

''wouldn't you like to know.'' he deadpanned, then continued to type something on his phone.

you stared at him, tapping your foot. ''you checking if i replied to that text you sent me three days ago? 'cause i didn't. and just so you know, i was not smiling at you.''

''it looked like you were. i bet you missed me.'' he finally looked up from his phone but without making eye contact with you yet. he was smirking. again. you felt like punching him. again.

''zweig, i swear if you don't shut up-''

''make me shut up, then.'' he said. so fucking cheesy.

''your stupid pick-up lines don't work on me. you're not gonna turn me into one of your fangirls'' you warned him, inching closer and closer to him. ''and by the way, i'll get back at you for waking me up earlier. you're a fucking cunt.''

he didn't reply anything. he just looked directly into your eyes, with his eyebrows slightly raised. it was almost like his face was screaming, punch me! punch me!

you ignored your violent urges- you figured it would be better to put all that energy into something else- maybe, instead of punching him, you could flood his room- something of the sort.

but of course, that would be quite impossible given the fact that you would have to pay actual money for the damage. so, maybe punching was still an option, but not yet.

''i'm starving. i'll go get some breakfast.'' you said as you started walking away. ''-and don't try to sit next to me at the table. it's enough i have to sleep in the same cabin as you- i don't want to be reminded of your gross eating habits.'' pickles and peanut butter, disgusting. you remember how patrick used to eat that, in the school cafeteria- like actually. and with people around him. and still- he got girls. somehow.

he immediately came running after you, laughing a bit- ''oh come on, i don't eat that shit anymore, i was like 15 back then. and plus- i don't know anyone around here-'' he tried to make a point, but you cut him off with a loud and clear 'no.' he sighed and rolled his eyes at that, but ended up sitting on the opposite side of the table.

the whole time you were having breakfast you could feel his eyes on you. only this time, he wasn't smirking or grinning or anything of the sort- he just looked like a lost puppy.

it almost made you feel bad.

[snapewife-divorce-lawyer]

counting down the top 10 sexiest droids in star wars.

i’m 100% serious btw. this is based solely on my memory so if i forgot your fav, feel free to comment

#10

this guys from a new hope! now i must somewhat shamefully admit that this is based entirely on looks. but i mean come on look at it. instantly clocked it as a freek

#9

these annoying fuckers from clone wars. this goofy ass attempt to make battledroids more intimidating did at least produce a droid i wouldn’t mind coming home to every night. these guys are huge brats too. excited to see how that plays out in more intimate settings

#8

it’s just something about it. i can’t put my finger on. its so resolute and sinister, and yet it is not unlike a a wild rabbit. it’s delicate hands and big eyes make me want to care for it. i want this thing to call me mommy.

#7

the ferryman from the mandalorian. he is so dutiful. a powerful aura. he looks like he could hold me tight in those big strong arms

#6

i could fix him

#5

look we all knew this was coming. he’s powerful sexual presence it’s simply undeniable. the baddest bitch in star wars just barely beating lando. i’ve chosen the sexiest picture of him that i could find. enjoy.

#4

battle droids but specifically the ones with paint on them. i think these would have the closest analogue to human intimacy of any on this list. and even then, kissing them is an exciting geometric chalenge

#3

sexiest picture in this post by far. oh my god these look inside books. should i be tagging this as nsfw? this diabolical baddie even deploys one of my favorite droids ever. making her the only droid milf that i can think of.

#2

gonk droids. but specifically gonky from the bad batch. i think this one is probably the most indescribable. i can say little details like how he kinda reminds me of 80s computers and i love 80s computers, or how the simplest shape can sometimes be the best, or how cute it is when he kicks his feet in the air while he is being used for weightlifting, but none of it really adds up to how i feel

and the number one sexiest droid in star wars (and it’s not even close) is:

chopper. obviously.

dilf dot com. this guy has such an attractive personality. beyond words how wonderful his design is. one of my favorite star wars characters and one of the best droid designs

[rafesslxt]

SUPP IM BACK WITH ANOTHER REQUEST!! How about professor riddle marks ur work but u didn't get good grades so he punishes u? xoxo mattheosslut22

omg i smiled at this like a fool and my boyfriend asked me what I was smiling about hahaha - yes my real boyfriend, not mattheo duh

thank you for requesting doll 🫶🏻 I‘m already writing a professor one shot right now but with more plot, just have to finish it 👀

Bad student | Professor!Mattheo Riddle

summary: Professor Riddle and you have a special agreement.

warnings: professor x student so don‘t read if you don‘t like, kissing, teasing, fingering, unprotected p in v

words: 2,4k

I looked down at the paper I got back from Professor Riddle. I got an F. Fuck. My gaze wanders up as he looks at me with raised eyebrows and a kind of disappointed look on his face. "You might want to come to me after class." he says in a chilli tone.

Professor Riddle and I have an agreement. A secret one. If I continue to write bad notes, he stops fucking me. As a motivation. And If I get good ones, I get a reward - which is his dick. As a motivation of course.

I sigh and nod but he already left to give the rest of the students their papers back, which of course were all better than mine.

He continues with class and tries to explain everything but I only can concentrate on what‘s going to happen after this class. It is the last one I have today which means I have time and don‘t need to rush out, which is good. Or bad? I don‘t know yet and that‘s exactly what worries me.

The ring interrupts my thoughs and brings me back to the reality. That I‘m alone with him. I swallow the clump in my throat down and gather my things together.

As I walk to the front of the classroom and towards his desk he doesn‘t even look at me. I breath out, loudly. " Sooo.." i start and try to get him to look up but he still doesn‘t.

While correcting another test and sqribbling something on it he talks " You know what our arrangement was,right? " "Mattheo I - I mean Professor I‘m really sorry okay? I promise it won‘t happen again!" I almost begged. I couldn‘t imagine losing him and our sessions, they got me addicted.

"Yeah you said that the last few times you got a bad grade but now an F? No y/n." "Pleease, fuck there has to be something that I can do! I‘m literally begging you."

I saw him smirking a little and I knew he loved to hear me beg like this, litte fucker.

"I swear I‘m always paying attention I just - I didn‘t have had time to study with quidditch and everything." I wasn‘t even lying on that.

"Prove it. I‘ll ask you Questions and you‘ll have to get at least.. 8 out them right. If not, you can come back when you write good once again after the holiday‘s"

I looked at him in shock. "Holidays?!“ "Yeah, the next test we write is after the holidays." I shook my head, not able to live that long without that dick. I know how desperate I sound, but that was exactly how good he fucked me. I tried to forget him, tried to find fun somewhere else but It was useless with these boys at school. He just knew every single move to get me trembling under his touch.

"Okay okay.. give me those questions." "Sit down." I did as soon as he told me to and looked up at him as he stands up and walks to the desk I‘m sitting on.

"First question: Let‘s start with a easy one.. Which spell will cast a body bind upon an enemy?" he asks me, looking directly into my eyes. I lick my lips before answering. "Petrificus Totalus."

"What‘s the strongest love potion in the world?" I started smiling when the memory of him showing it to us last week came back. "Amortentia." I answered him. "What did you smell?" he asks curious as he slowly places his hands beside me on the table, getting closer to my body. "Does that count as a question?" i ask him in a teasing tone. "Answer." he says in a demanding one but I didn‘t miss the excitement in his eyes." So I answer him. "You."

"Smelled you too.“ he mumbles as he gets closer to my neck which leaves me nervous and with goosebumps all over my body.

"What is your only defense against the Imperius Curse?" I felt his lips brush against my skin but still not kissing it which made me even more desperate. "There is no defense.." i answer lost. "Wrong." he whispers and bites the skin on my soft spot. I whine and squeeze my eyes shut. "M-maybe I need a little motivation.." i started and looked down at his shirt.

He rolled his eyes but still smirked a little as my hands found the buttons to his shirt. While I opened them he took out his wand from his back pocket of his jeans and spelled the door shut.

When I opened the last button I pushed the material to the side and let my hands glide over his abs which he knew i love so much. "Don‘t get too eager baby. You already got one wrong." Now I rolled my eyes as my fingers followed the contour of his abs. "Won‘t happen again."

"No matter how many legs you have, they'll all dance if you're cursed with what jinx?" I snort and answer "Tarantallegra. Easy." He nods and asks his next question, his face now on my throat again. "Which potion acts as a truth drug?" I swallow as I feel his soft lips now ghost over my skin again. I open my mouth a few seconds before answering. "Veritaserum."

His lips now meet my skin and I moan. "Correct." He murmurs, leaving wet and passionate kisses all over my throat. His hands find their way to my knees, leaving them there.

"One side effect of the Draught of Peace, If done incorrectly?" he asks me while letting his hands wander up my legs towards my tights slowly. I press my lips together as I feel myself getting wetter.

"Answer, I know you‘re a smart girl." he grins, kissing along my jaw, sending shivers down my spine.

"Irreversible sleep. " "That‘s right, good girl." he starts playing with the hem of my skirt.

"Who created the main ingredient in the Elixir of Life?" "Nicolas Flammel." He nods and wanders towards my mouth with his lips. I start to get impatient and shift slighty on the table, making him smile again. "3 more baby."

"What is the final ingredient needed for Polyjuice Potion?" " Hair." As I answer correct, his lips connect with mine. My mouth almost opens itself when it feels his tounge gliding over my bottom lip. His hand moves further under my skirt, his fingers now right in front of my underwear. "I can already feel the heat from you." he groans against my lips before his tounge explores my mouth.

I let my hands wander to his back, where I scratch his skin slighty, sending shivers down his spine this time. "Hmm love when you do that." "I know."

He pulls away from my mouth a few inches and looks into my eyes. God his eyes. "When must Wolfsbane Potion be taken to be effective?" Shit. I really don‘t know. I think he saw it in my eyes when he lifted his eyebrows at me. "Uhm ���" "Come on. We had this topic only a few weeks ago." "The week leading up to a full moon?" I ask more than answering.

I see a smirk forming on his lips and his head shaking. "So much for 'i listen to your classes', huh?" I groan in frustration. "Are you enjoying the thought of not fucking me for that long?" I ask him almost a little mad.

"No baby, my hand doesn‘t feel like you. But I know you‘ll feel even better after weeks of not riding my cock like you love to do." Wait. His hand? Doesn‘t he have like a tons of women at his feet? But I didn’t have that much time to think about it.

"Name me all of the Unforgiveable Curses." "Uhm – Avada Kedavra, Imperio and .. Crucio." He nods in approval and suddenly I can feel his fingers ghost over my damp underwear.

"Fuck baby, are you always this wet while answering your tests? Maybe I should help you next time so you don‘t write F‘s in my class hm?"

"Ask the last one." I say in a desperate voice. If I get this one right I can fuck him, If I get it wrong, these holidays will be the longest I ever had.

"Okay baby, now concentrate yeah? We had this last potion lesson. How long does Felix Felicis take to prepare?" I smile brightly at him as I instantly knew the answer to it. "6 months." i answer.

"Fuck thank god." he groans and pulls me closer to his body, my legs wrapping around his hips. "10 would have been enough." I answer him, my hands already in his soft curls, tugging at the ends which made him groan even more.

He picks me up and sits me down on his desk, pushing my upper body back. "Gonna give you your reward now baby. You were such a smart girl." he starts praising me. "Well, have a good teacher." "Oh yeah?" he smirks and pulls my skirt off. "Hmm, Professor Snape is actually really nice." Suddenly I feel pain flowing through my thigh, making me hiss.

I look down at him as he starts to kiss the skin he just bit. "Careful baby, don‘t forget who‘s in charge here." he mutters against my thigh, nibbling on it and preppering it with wet kisses. My hands find their way into his curly hair. "Please.." i whisper as he does the same to my other thigh.

"I would miss those little begs so much If I wouldn‘t have had them to hear over holidays." he mumbles against my skin, his lips now on my underwear. He groans as he pulls it down and sees my glistening folds.

And just like a starving man he pushed his fingers through my folds before lapping at my clit, making me bite down on my lip instantly. "Shit.." I breath out, closing my eyes too. "Nuh uh baby, look at me while I eat that sweet pussy of yours." he smirks when my eyes opened up again.

I look down at him, seeing just his eyes and a bit of his nose. Not once does he look away while eating me out and I can see the desire he's holding back right now clearly.

I feel him sliding two fingers inside me without a warning, groaning when they just slipped inside like nothing.

"Fuck me, please.." I beg, not being able to wait any longer. He lets go of me, his mouth and chin glistening from my wetness. I see him licking his lips, with half a smile, almost making me come just from the sight.

"Gonna pound that pussy numb, baby. Just preparing you for what will happen over the holidays." Since we had that agreement, I stayed almost every holidays here so I could spent them with him. "You're staying, right?" he asks as he sees me in thoughts. I start smiling and nod. " Of course." "Hmm good girl."

He pulls me closer to him again until my legs wrap around his hips. His hands open his belt, pushing his jeans and boxer shorts down, revealing his already throbbing cock.

He lets the tip glide over my clit teasing me. His mouth is open, breathing heavy and looking at me through his lashes. "Ready Baby?" "Uh-huh." I mumble, nodding before he finally pushes inside me.

"Fuck yes, so fucking tight." he groans as he slowly pushes inch for inch inside. I let my head fall back and bite down on my bottom li to not moan too loud.

He starts thrusting forward with his hips, making the table squeak against the floor and echoing through the classroom. "I swear I will never get tired of this pussy." he smirks down at me while his words send butterflies down my stomach. I let out a little whine as his right hand wanders up to my throat, cocking me just so slightly but good.

"You still gonna write bad grades, huh?" he ask me, thrusting harder now. "N-no?" I answer but it sounds more like a question. Suddenly he pulls out and turns me around so I'm laying flat with my stomach on the desk. He spreads my legs and pushes inside me again, putting his whole weight on me.

A moan slips past my lips but he puts his hand over my mouth, grinning arrogant. "Let me guess, 'oh daddy it's too much', right?" he mocks while rocking my whole shit into the table.

He pulls his hand away from my mouth and wraps it around my throat again, squeezing with more pressure than before. "Shit Mattheo" I groan, letting my eyes roll back into my head.

"What is it baby? Thought you're able to handle it hm? Should I stop?" "No, no don't stop." I whine out at the though of losing the feeling of him.

Suddenly I feel a sharp pain going through my body. I look behind me over my shoulder and see Mattheo smiling at me like a innocent angel. Yeah, right. He slaps my ass again, this time harder.

"What? Did you think this is gonna be all nice and shit? You still wrote a bad grade. Gonna have to punish you at least a little hm."

He does it again, over and over again until my whole ass is fire red. His thrusting of course continues without faltering. "Fuck I'm close." I groan, my eyes already shut. His hand slides under my body towards my clit and starts rubbing circles on it with his fingers.

"Come around my cock baby." And shit, I did. I feel my walls clenching around him, milking him almost. I hear him groan behind me and his thrust getting more uneven. "O-oh fuckk.." I feel him coming inside me, his head falling down against my shoulder.

"Shit, you always do this to me." he says before kissing my skin. "What do you mean?" "You always pull me in, would have fucked you no matter what grade you got. You just got me wrapped around your finger." I smile at his words, knowing damn well he got me hooked too.

The end was Kida rushed I'm sorry, let me know If you liked it 👀

Taglist: 💞💗💕

@justarandomcanadiantransdude @sofa-couch26 @nevereverthem @little-miss-naill @kolsangel @atadoddinnit @auxcordlawd @helena-1105 @itsarajr @jolly4holly @hisparentsgalllery @slytherinscreamqueen @mixvchelle @miribenh26 @azalea3leaza @littlemadamred

thank you for every support 🫶🏻

Sorry it took so long but had a writing block

xoxo sarah <3

[readychilledwine]

Cassian who after you two realize you’re pregnant slowly stops doing as much training to spend time with you and your growing body.

Cassian who slowly starts eating the foods you crave so you don’t feel alone in the weird things you’re eating

Cassian who slowly starts getting a “dad bod” towards the end of your pregnancy, still keeping his muscle mass in his arms and legs, his abs are just starting to get a little more full.

Cassian who realizes you’re starting to like the dad bod more than the straight hard ass muscle and after the little babe is boring starts taking more days off of training to stay in his new body shape for you

I'm. Salivating.

Dadbod

Summary - After the pregnancy and birth of your first daughter, you aren't the only one dealing with body changes

Warnings - insecure Cassian, suggestiveness and implied smut, teasing from Rhys and Azriel.

A/N -i want everyone to know what my vision of a "cut dadbod" is. It's Jason Momoa in Aquaman. He's lean, muscular, and cut, but he's not what cassian would typically be of rippling muscles and abs you can wash laundry on. So, I attached a picture of the image that came to mind while reading this 🤤🥴

Your honor, I need him. Sexually.

Cassian sighed loudly as he looked himself over in the mirror. There was no denying he had put on weight with your pregnancy, and especially with the pressures of fatherhood and a newborn, but Mother above you wanted him.

Your bottom lip was caught between your teeth as your eyes slightly glazed over, focused in on his strong arms and shoulders, on his chest, his stomach. Yes, cut abs no longer sat exposed all the time, begging to be licked between every ridge, but there was something about how his build now accentuated the v of his hips, how it highlighted his still trim waist without distracting from it.

Your mate was the most attractive male you'd ever laid eyes on. Not Rhys. Not Azriel. Not even the countless high fae you dealt with daily. None of them could hold a candle to Cassian and none ever would.

"I can feel you staring. I know I've gotten out of shape, you can just say it." His voice was laced with sadness. You could feel his disappointment running down the bond as he picked up your daughter, bouncing her as he smiled.

That was the other attractive thing about Cassian. Watching him be a father. Watching him with his daughter. Seeing his excitement over having a little girl. Cassian never expressed disappointment. He never made snide comments about your failure at providing a male, no. Cassian cherished her, his little baby bat, and thanked you for her profusely.

His love for her was part of why he had "Let himself go." He had gone from hours spent on the roof, training the priestess, training with Azriel and Rhys, training Feyre to each group receiving an hour of his time instead of his whole day. He wanted to be with her, not locked on the House of Wind, stuck hearing her small cries as the doorways carried them to him.

"Cassian, you are the sexiest I have ever seen you," you finally answered him, lip going back to your teeth. You wanted him, needed him. You two had not touched each other in so long.

"You don't have to lie, sweetheart. I know I'm not-"

"Stop it," it came out more forcefully than you had wanted. "I like your body. I love the way you look. I still want to fuck you senselessly daily. Just stop."

That conversation had changed everything. Cassian would never admit it, but he enjoyed having his days to himself. He enjoyed only allowing training to ocuppy 3 to 4 hours of his day versus almost 8.

And Gods, he loved how you looked at him now. He loved how much more you two snuggled, how you seemed more comfortable laying your head on his chest.

"Good morning, fuckers." Cassian effortlessly flipped the crepes he had been making for you when he heard Rhys and Azriel sit down at the kitchen island. "What do you want?"

Rhys looked at the unhealthy breakfast, one you constantly craved during pregnancy. "When do you two plan on being back to hard training and dieting?"

He knew Rhys was asking out of curiosity, but Cassian couldn't help but growl, more concerned about Rhys possibly mocking your post pregnancy body more than Cassian's own new dad body.

Azriel's spine straightened at the sound as he shot Rhys a look. "What our brother is trying to say, Cass, is we miss training with you all day on our days off, and we are concerned you are not taking time for yourself anymore."

The look Cassian gave them felt almost like he was attempting to murder them. Like he was warning them of the line they were risking. "My mate needs me and appreciates my help with our daughter. I like my current schedule. When she is older, will I maybe go back to a more training heavy schedule? Possibly. But for now, I am doing what's best for me and my family." And my sex life, he thought silently to himself as images of you riding him last night came to mind.

"We are just concerned, Cassian," Rhys stated softly. "About your growing daddy tummy." His smile broke out as he poked Cassian's abs, eyes widening over still feeling solid muscle below a slight layer of skin. "What the fuck?" Rhys stood, walking over to Cassian. "How are you still so fit?"

"He's fucking perfect, isn't he?" You walked into the room, a small head and wings poking out from the body wrap you were using to carry the daughter you shared with the general. "Delicious."

Azriel chuckled, moving to you to take the babe, but unsure if you meant the crepes or your husband. "As long as you two are happy, that's all that matters. I just was worried about your mental health, Cass. Mother knows your a vain creature that loved his abs more than breathing."

"Or eating."

"Or drinking."

"Or fucking," Rhys and Azriel went on as you moved to Cassian, arms wrapping around his strong biceps.

He looked in the mirror again that night, holding his daughter as he stared at his abs. This current body was a reminder to him of how life had changed, of the growth you two had done, the small life that was now phsyical evidence of the love you two shared. "Dad bod," he finally said. "I'd rather have my dad bod."

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish

[moociaoafterdark]

Primarchs and the birds I think they would be able transform into (and why)

1) Lion - Golden Eagle. Just like lions are called "Kings of Jungle", golden eagles are sometimes called "Kings of Birds". Aside from the naming, I think Lion would love such a magnificent, pompous bird.

2) Fulgrim - Albino/White Peacock. Do I even need to say anything here? Lord Shen looking bastard. Flaunts his gorgeous tail feathers to everyone. Will start screaming at you very loudly if you don't pay him enough attention. That is especially the case if you are one of his brothers. Especially if you are Ferrus. Sorry Ferrus. Surprisingly, though, Fulgrim doesn't turn into a bird very often. Some speculate he regrets choosing the peacock as his transformation. Others believe he loves his human form way more.

3) Perturabo - Red Tailed Hawk. Just like the Heresy is named after Horus, despite Perturabo being the sole reason it got this bad for the Imperium in the first place, red tailed hawk's screech is attributed to a completely different bird. Perturabo will feel a spiritual connection with this bird species, which is why he is able to transform into it in the first place. He does wish the bird was bigger.

4) Jaghatai Khan - Peregrine. Peregrine falcons are the world's fastest birds, and one of the fastest animals on Earth. There's literally no better bird for Jaghatai than this falcon. Probably yells "falcon punch" when he dives in (The Emperor told him to do that to "intimidate his enemies")

5) Leman Russ - Pigeons. Now, fun fact - crows/ravens have a symbiotic relationship with wolves, as they often hunt together and share the spoils. As you probably guessed by now, the ravens/crows are kinda already taken by another primarch (in canon even), so I had to improvise. Enter pigeons. Just like wolves, pigeons got domesticated by humanity and have been our companions for many centuries. Pigeons, just like crows and ravens, are social birds, meaning they live in one big flock and help take care of each other. This is as close as one gets to a wolf pack dynamic in the bird world, so there we have it! Leman does use his transformation mostly for pranks or "party tricks". Never in battle. If you propose him to do that for a surprise attack, you can spot a little bit of a blush, before he angrily tells you off.

6) Rogal Dorn - Arctic Tern. I think Rogal would find the fact that those birds have the longest migration distance (48,700 km to 70,900 km) REALLY fascinating. He surprisingly takes this form very often and for a reason. Up above in the sky he gets a good look at both his own defences as well as those of the Imperium's enemies. Though he doesn't like admitting it, he simply just really likes flying and letting the wind carry him.

6) Konrad Curze - Bearded Vulture. Those fuckers EAT BONES and look like fucking dinosaurs. Konrad would LOVE to terrorize people as this bird. He'll take off the skin and meaty bits in his human form, then transform into a bird to finish the job. By the time he is done - NOTHING will be left of you... GOD I love bearded vultures. FUCKING LOOK AT THEM!!!

7) Sanguinius - Swan. Graceful. Beautiful. A symbol of love. Will break human bones with a flap of the wings (or at the very least make you bleed). Nuff said, even if the choice is a little basic. If you can't find him anywhere, chances are, he is chilling in the garden, swimming in the pond. Make sure to bring bread with you, the good one. You know, the one that's all fresh and soft. If you're still unsure, just call Warmaster Horus, he knows what bread his brother likes.

(Yes, this how swans are rescued. In Sanguinius' case, this is how he is restrained when he is being a tiny bit of a nuisance)

8) Ferrus Manus - Hummingbird. Similar to Rogal and the Arctic Tern, Ferrus would find hummingbirds fascinating by how strong and fast their wings are (and how they're the only birds able to fly backwards). Despite the birds being smaller than some insects, they have caught the attention of one of the biggest primarchs... Which is why it's hilarious when Ferrus, this gruff giant of a man, able to move mountains and wrestle wyrms, transforms into a tiiiiiny bird mid-fight. Well, it's hilarious until you are his opponent and realize you just completely lost sight of Ferrus, until he transforms back into his human form but, by then, it's too late. On the more lighter note, Ferrus loves resting while, in his bird form, nestled somewhere in Fulgrim's hair. Warm, soft AND he can be sure he wouldn't be bothered.

9) Angron - Roosters. Hoo boy. So, roosters kinda have a reputation for being aggressive, easily provoked AND also having a history of being used in bloodsports. However, roosters are very valuable if you intend to keep chickens, as they take care of the hens, protect them and, if raised properly, can actually be great pets. So, over all, we have a loving, protective and loyal bird, who is unfortunately often mistreated and misunderstood, as well as used in bloodsports even to this day, which often leaves the birds aggressive and traumatized... Sounds familiar?

God, I hate thinking about Angron, because the more I think about him, the more I want to cry. I'm actually kinda teary eyed as I'm typing this, haha.

Anyway, to lighten the mood, Angron, with nails or without them, is a local alarm clock. It doesn't matter where you are, you WILL hear his crowing and you WILL get your ass up.

10) Roboute Guilliman - Harpy Eagle. The only bird I don't have explanation for other than it looks cool. And I'm not even a huge Rowboat Girlyman fan. Would love to hear your opinion on why this does or doesn't work. And if it doesn't, I'm eager to hear your alternatives.

11) Mortarion - The Marabou Stork. If you know anything about those birds - you know they were handcrafted by Satan himself. Or, Nurgle, I guess. Morty would love them.

(Above is an attached photo of a very private meeting of the Death Guard Legion. Lord Mortarion is on the white pedestal.)

12) Magnus The Red - The Scarlet Macaw. I swear, Magnus' daemon form is supposed to resemble the scarlet macaw. The resemblance is uncanny. Perhaps he was always meant to be the Emperor's "parrot on the shoulder", instead of, what, powering the Golden Throne instead of the Emperor? Yes, he sits on his dad's shoulder and makes snarky remarks to everyone. Malcador once threw a shoe at him for that.

13) Horus Lupercal - Bald Eagle. Actually NOT bald, just like Horus isn't actually naturally bald, because he SHAVES. The fandom lied to me, this whole time I thought Horus was jealous of his father's and some of his brothers' hair, when in reality he CHOSE to be bald!

... Anyway, high key Horus (before the heresy) is the Imperium's poster boy, so it's only logical to give him the bird that is essentialy a US mascot. He loves perching very high and enjoying the winds stroke his feathers. Also, if you kiss him on his forehead, while he is in the eagle form, he will get all giddy and happy. Horus also takes his bird form to play with Sanguinius, trying to race with him in the skies. Goofs.

14) Lorgar Aurelian - The Mourning Dove. In Christianity, the mourning dove is used to represent the Holy Spirit. It's generally a bird that is associated with spirituality, being a symbol of peace, love and faith. It would be a crime for me not to assign this bird to Lorgar. In the early hours of the morning, Lorgar would take this form to coo prayers in the language no one will ever understand, making it somewhat safe for him.

15) Vulkan - Crested Auklet. These birds are mostly found nesting on volcanic islands, such as Kuril Islands and Sakhalin island. They also live in huge colonies and can form strong bonds with each other. I think this bird would remind Vulkan less of himself and more of Nocturne... Which is exactly why he would choose this bird for transformation. He is very cuddly in the bird form and smells like tangerines too. Just... Don't hold him for too long. Vulkan, even as a bird, is still a living furnace.

16) Corvus Corax - Common Raven.

... Do I need to say anything?

17) Alpharius and Omegon - Emus. What better birds for the local "Just according to plan" guys than the ones that literally won a war against humans. Seriously, what the fuck, Australia?

And as a little bonus:

The Emperor of Mankind - Cassowary. You thought it would be another eagle? Or, perhaps, the emperor penguin with the "penguins of Madagascar" joke thrown somewhere in there? Nah. He gets the bird that is literally THE tired single father of the birds. On the other hand, though, the Emperor gets to harass people in the cassowary form. Imagine having the honor of being invited to the Imperial Palace itself and as you explore you get approached by a huge, dangerous looking cassowary. You manage to befriend it, even fed it some food you had on you, before you hear panicked Custodes running in your direction, screaming for the Emperor to stop harassing the guests. The cassowary then proceeds to book it, screaming back in the very human voice that he can do whatever he wants. And now you have an idea of what a normal Monday in the Imperial Palace looks like to the Custodes.

[pedge-page]

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife # 8- Drama Queen

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Can be read with others in series or alone

Warnings: allusions to sex, mostly fluff and comedy

- - - -

Its been a pretty quiet evening, and with you home, thats saying something. Joel's minding his business watching Tv when you come plopping down next to him on the couch. He doesn't acknowledge you.

So you scoot over and sigh heavily. Still No reaction from the male.

You feint a yawn and snuggle your head on his shoulder. He smiles a little, but doesn't look at you. You rub affectionately like a kitten.

Nothing.

Take the hint, you stupid hunk.

Your pretty manicured hand creeps on his thigh, stroking up and down senually with delicate fingertips.

He knows where this is going, but he won't entertain you. He coughs a little, bored, and continues scrolling channels. Wants to see how far you'll go to get what you want.

As if on cue, you persist. Wrapping your arm over his broad shoulders, hitching your knee awkwardly on his thigh despite the baby in your belly squirming at the uncomfortable angle. You playfully boop his nose, giggling like a flirt. He purses his lips, but nothing else.

You stare at his profile, that unique Joel Miller look of concentration. Handsome and stoic—that little shithead.

You're teasingly rubbing your fingers through his scruff, twisting gently as a massage.

You bring your lips and kiss him kindly on the cheek. Something sweet. Innocent. Then again, but a little longer. Then some more, peppered down his jaw, along his pulse. Heated and wetter. Growing more needy and nipping his ear, making little happy moans as your hand continues to wander over his legs, tip toeing to his crotch.

Joel sighs, finally looking at you. "There a reason you're trying to get me turned on, ma'am?"

"Mmm," you hum, biting your lip and staring his plump ones. You crawl closer, breasts smashed against his bicep as you lick your lips, tongue peaking out with lusty eyes trying to put him under your best charm. Yesyesyes give it to me, Fucker!

"I want a Big—" you kiss his nose "—Messy—" teeth nip at his lower lip "—Hot—" you peck him teasingly, sucking his flesh in your mouth so he knows you mean business. Then you stare down at him with your serious eyes, foreheads pressing,

"—Fudge Cookie Dough Chocolate Gooey Fantasy Milkshake with extra Rainbow Sprinkles from Clyde's Creamery."

Yeah. He knew exactly this is where this was going.

He cracks a warm smile, cupping your jaw and parting your lips with his thumb. You suck it into your mouth, hoping to please him. Just as hes about to kiss you, he leans in and says, "No. Its 11pm. Bedtime."

You get off his lap with a cold shoulder and a scoff, proceeding to ignore him for the rest of the night.

Hes evens surprised when you go to bed still silent, facing away from him without a kiss goodnight when you turn off your lamp.

Until it's 2am when he's startled awake by the sound of the the front door opening. He's storming downstairs trying not to trip, and haphazardly throwing a shirt on backwards while in his boxers, only to see you with a packed bag, hand dramatically caressing  your bump with fake ass tears down your cheek going outside to the car.

"Where the FUCK are you going??" He asks, rubbing his eyes. Aggravation and rough exhaustion evident in his tone.

"You said you didn't love me, so I'm leaving," you huff. There's no hint of a joke in your words. Genuine pain. Hurt. Quiet and walking away. You dont wait to see his reaction and without another word, you turn to leave.

Hes so whiplashed, wracking his brain trying to remember any time he even remotely could have said something like that and you interpret it—

"I SAID YOU COULDN'T HAVE A HOT FUDGE COOKIE DOUGH CHOCOLATE GOOEY FANTASY MILKSHAKE because it was FUCKING 11PM AND CLOSED! Now get your fat beautiful ass and our baby back in here and dont ever pull this stupid stunt again!"

You scowl at him, preventing any physical reaction of your internal swooning he thinks my ass is pretty. You hold your ground and refuse to move from your position, defiant, in flip flops and a long nightgown on the front porch at 2am.

Joel furrows his brows and closes his eyes, soothing over the wrinkles you've caused to grow on his forehead.  "Fuck. I'll get you one tomorrow morning for breakfast. Okay?"

You smile giddily and skip back inside "Okie!" You step past him drop your shit on the couch, kissing him on the cheek. "Dont forget the extra rainbow sprinkles."

He grunts, glad that it's dark enough in the house you can't see how exhausted and annoyed he is.

"Oh and close the door, Joel! You'll wake the neighbors with your unnecessary shouting bit. Dramatic much?" You scoff, and waddle up the stairs and right to bed like nothing happened.

-

Tommy also has access to your ring camera notifications and sees Joel and you out there and the whole conversation, and he's laughing so hard when he watches the playback. He teases grumpy exhausted Joel the next morning, conveniently with a to-go milkshake in his hand at 8am.

"Softy for your girl?"

"Shut up."

"And when you have the baby, then there's gonna be two of her!" Tommy wheezes.

Joel's saggy and wrinkled eyes manage to open wider than ever as that particular horror sets over him.

- - - -

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[sparrow-ceiling]

LUCIFER IN EPISODE 8 POST

because i want to squeeze him like a rubber duck (I WROTE DICK HELP)

OK FIRST CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE PARALLEL TO THE TRUST FALLS WHEN HE CATCHES CHARLIE (TWICE)!!??? Like she trusts him. They love each other. They're gonna be ok. Charlie never set out to do this but in saving all those other people she also saved herself and her dad and i love her for that. Also I just realized they have the same little cheek circles its so cute <3

(help why does Charlie look like Candace Flynn In the first pic-) LOOK at him hes such a short king. He's trying to hide it with that silly little hate but he's fooling exactly nobody.

"I'm going to FUCK you." HES SUCH A DAD LMAO he really thought he ate that one. Also its so silly how his hair part switches sides all the time I love him for that. ((Also did anybody else notice that when Charlie pops in she has her hair tied up and stuff but before and after she's like. disheveled/bloody etc. Probably just a mistake but still interesting.))

ALSO HIS WHOLE FIGHT WITH ADAM IS SO FUNNY why is he so unserious about everything LMAOO. Also bonus look at his slutty little eyeshadow in the first pic (also most of these pictures but its so silly I love it. Also probably necessary to keep the design from being monochromatic) He really gives so few shits about Adam and just beats the hell out of him it's hilarious (honestly giving Alastor-Vox dynamic a little bit but I may be reading into things too much)

ALSO THE DYNAMIC DUO!! They really destroyed that fucker so hard together. PLUS get you a dad that looks at you the way Lucifer looks at Charlie.

ALSO HES SO FUNNY HERE. Hes so fucking confused. And concerned hes just like uhhhh. Awkward wet cat of a man!!!

ALSO THIS IS SO FUNNY LIKE READ THE ROOM MAN. Your daughter and her friends are soaked in blood and you're out here asking who wants to have pancakes (I mean fair enough though. I could use a good pancake after slaughtering angels honestly). But the contrast between them is so funny.

AND LOOK AT HIM HES SO SWEET TRYING TO CHEER UP HIS DAUGHTER. WE LOVE A KIND MAN!!! (Also i just realized he only has four fingers)

Also girl what are these fruity ass stances chill out bro

AND HE TAKES HIS HAT OFF TO SALUTE SIR PENTIOUS AWWW. Hes so genuine about it too <33333

ALSO HIS REACTION WHEN ALASTOR SHOWS UP LMAO. The SASS, he hates that guy so much kdhsjksf

Anyway that concludes my rant about lucifer i love him so fucking much!!

[trashmouth-richie]

older! eddie x fem! reader

summary: when your bf skips town /‘s you can’t pay your rent, you put on your best outfit and knock on your landlord’s door begging for forgiveness

@eddiemunsons-missingnipple for the Eddie edit

w/c: 3.8k

t/w: 18+ ONLY —heavy smut, degrading, hair pulling, mouth fucking, choking, edging, switch!, daddy!kink

He was an asshole to extraordinary proportions. A life full of mold covered lemons would do that to a person. You were nervous, to approach him. But something told you he’d hear you out— listen to you. Maybe even be sympathetic to your pleads.

Yeah right.

As if he were made of anything but pure hatred. Toxicity swirled in his veins, his poisoned skin covered by decades worth of tattoos; all dark and sharp edged.

His peppered scruff balanced out his naturally soft eyes. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. A scowl that would make any resident of Forest Hills Trailer Park think twice about crossing. But you were left with no choice. When Trey had ditched town with the human bicycle Chrissy Cunningham, you were short on rent. Bills were tight, and you often ate in the dark, or by candle light. Anything to save a bit of money.

And that’s what led you here. Standing at your landlord’s door. Putting on an extra swipe of lipgloss, making sure to curl your hair, and wear a low cut tank top, the only push up bra you owned, and some cheap lashes from the mall— you knocked politely on the sun faded door. Hoping for some sort of a miracle that Mr. Munson would take pity on you.

One knock. Nothing.

Another. Still nothing.

It’s not until you are slapping your hand into the door that a voice behind you startles you nearly out of your too short skirt.

“What’d’ya need?” He’s covered in motor oil and grease, standing below you on the dirt and sparse grass covered ground, wiping his hands on a once red rag, a ring of sweat around his white tank top, bandana wrapped around his head, cigarette hanging gingerly from his slack lips.

He remembers the day you had moved in, it was freezing cold in early February. All by yourself, moving things one at a time in a shitty old Buick he hadn’t seen around since his high school days. He wanted to offer his help, something he didn’t give to anyone. But something about the way you smiled as he showed you around the dingy shithole of a trailer, voicing your opinions on what could be spruced up, made him hate you a little bit less.

Everyone in the park knew not to bother Eddie. He was a grumpy, mean son of a bitch and his patience was rail fucking thin. The Johnson’s dog went missing? No shit, he was the one who called animal control to come and pick it up, fucker had fleas and probably rabies. Can I paint the kitchen? Fuck no. The sink isn’t working at lot 8. Call a mechanic. And just for the annoyance he upped their rent $100.

Seeing you on his steps, dressed like that, sparkly tits, and your bra showing through your tank top had his dick twitching in his pants. Of course you were a smoke show, and he was honestly surprised to hear that ol’ what’s his face ran out on you with Chrissy Cuntingham. Her shit had been rode hard and put away wet more times that could be accounted for. Bitch still wore her homecoming tiara and had her green and orange pom poms in the back window of her car— despite the fact that graduation was more than 25 years ago. Worse than an alleycat, and smelling like one, Chrissy mostly kept herself busy by buying the minors alcohol or showing her many “party tricks” to the bachelors of the park. Sitting on his porch, smoking a joint like he did every night, Eddie took note of the black jeep that showed up every Thursday outside trailer 6, a graying head of suave douche boy hair could only be one person, Jason Carver.

He took note that your trailer, right next to his, was full of screaming and yelling when your boyfriend was home. A noise all too familiar in the trailer park, bouncing off Eddie’s ears like birds chirping.

But when he was gone? The window to your bedroom would be cracked open ever so slightly, propped open with the soft cover of Stephen King’s IT. The kitten purr of a vibrator and your delicate moans sang out to him. A siren amongst lonely fishermen, calling out to them in song of entrapment only to eat their souls, bodies never found amongst the dark sea bed. At first he thought it was wrong to listen, wrong to hear your pleasuring yourself, but he had sworn he heard his name on your lips, more than once. Fisting his cock angrily to your voice, your wet mouth, swollen lips from him sucking on them, pretty little pussy aching for him. He didn’t need playboys anymore when he had your face to imagine. And imagine he had.

What would your sweet pussy look like wrapped around his cock? Would you swallow his load down your throat if he asked, demanded you to? Sweet thing like you wouldn’t have to worry about anything if you were his. The choked laugh after he finishes all over his hand makes him shake his head at the idea. He didn’t know your age, old enough to be on your own but definitely not 45 like he was. Visions of your sugar plum tits bouncing in his face as you rode him on the itchy couch in his living room, lulled him to sleep most nights.

He saw a peek of a tattoo on your side when you were hanging clothes on the line. Your body drove him in, his eyes melting around your curves, the swell of your ass in the jean cut off shorts you wore. When you saw him staring you waved him over, a devilish grin on your lips, a wanting sparkle in your eye.

He knew your type, trouble. And oh fuck the trouble he would love to be in. He’d never volunteered to fix anyone's appliances. But your silky saccharine voice had him calling a mechanic in a few days time, would have been sooner if he could have tore his eyes away from your tanned legs, but he kept those extra days all to himself, whimpering at night with a sore cock your name on his breath. It had been seven months of you living next door, your vibrator turned on like clockwork every day your boyfriend left for work.

And now here you are. Looking at him with “fuck me” eyes and a glossy smile on your lips. Those same lips purring out pleasantries about how fuck face left you and you were needing an extension on rent. The swell of the summer sun hit your cheeks, making you glow like some love sick angel on his steps. He was fucked. And soon— you would be too.

“So what?” He tried to gamble, tried to keep his hard facade, “an extension and then what’s next? You’re gonna tell all your little friends that I give hand outs to the needy? Oh no doll, not today.”

He pushes his way around you and into his trailer, the pungent smell of too strong incense burns your nostrils as you hold the door from him shutting it.

“Please, Mr. Muns—.”

“Eddie,” he grumbles.

“Eddie, please— I’m begging you,” the glimmer of a tear welling in your eyes, your voice dipping low into an almost whisper as you made your way inside, shutting the door behind your back and feeling around for the lock, “I’ll do anything.”

Eyes dripping of sex appeal and lust, you tip your tongue to the center of your top lip, eyeing his tightened jeans and you swear you see his dick twitch beneath the stretched denim.

Cock at full alert he shakes his head, his head dipped low and eyeing you up and down, lip bit between his teeth. A low groan in his throat, he talks in a gritting whisper, “Don’t start something you can’t finish sweetheart.”

“Oh I plan on finishing, big boy,” you hum walking towards him, devilish grin planted on your lips, “I don’t think we’ll have a problem with that, will we daddy?”

Fuck. Not even touching you yet and Eddie is rock hard, he could probably cum if you asked him to. Thanking a higher power that he wasn’t twenty anymore, he’s got years of stamina built under his worn leather belt. “You’re about to write a check your ass can’t cash doll, you sure this is what you want?”

“stop talking,” you breath, inches from his lips, he can taste the peach flavored lipgloss on his tongue, “and fuck me.”

Not needing any more of an okay than that, Eddie turns you around in a swift motion, a gasp escapes your lungs and he catches you before you stumble over your heels. He drags your hips down into him, your ass round and luscious on his stiffened length. He rips the neck of your tank top open exposing the mountainous swell of your chest and your cheap K-Mart bra. Pinching your laced nipples between his rough fingers, he rolls them like joints as his hot mouth assaults your neck, painting you, he sucks bruises into your neck, licking them better with tiny flicks of his satanic tongue and ending in a bite, marking you as his.

Pushing your ass into him you can feel his cock. His achingly girthy length has you soaking your panties, dripping wet just for him. His smokey smell is mixed with sweat as you angle your neck back against his shoulder, moaning into him as he sucks like a vampire into your neck. His stubble rubbing against your skin.

“Eddie,” you moan breathless into the humid air of his trailer.

He groans, your body pushed tight against him has his head spinning, drunk off your touch. Grabbing your skirt and yanking upward. Dripping in anticipation, your panties could be wrung out, your arousal pooling from the center and beading slowly to the ground. He hisses and hums when his finger first skates along the slick of your panties with a schlick, “fuck, all this for me doll?” He’s playing now, his thick fingers moving in lazy circles around your clit, your creamy pussy clenching desperately on nothing, you nod with a whimper.

“You gonna make all those pretty little noises I hear from your window once that dumbass you let fuck you leaves the house every day? Hmm? Didn’t think I could hear did you?” His cocky bravado kicks his cock up on your ass, sending a moan through your body as you rub deeper into him.

Quite the opposite actually

Purring into his neck you lick the expanse of skin he’s showcasing. Blowing hot on the slicked spit from your tongue, you rotate your hips to angle his fingers better on your clit, the sensitivity rolling like an electric current through your veins.

“I did it on purpose,” you confess breathlessly as Eddie’s fingers stop. “Watching you stare at me for months, I knew you’d touch yourself over me.”

Eddie groans gutturally twisting your body into the front door, back hitting the broken shades with a thud. In milliseconds he is on you, hot tongue lapping up your neck and biting with enough force to break skin. No time to be patient to have you undress for him, he shoves your skirt up tipping your panties clean off. Your exposed pussy shuddering with his blown breath on your slick core. His devilish eager tongue expertly licks and teases your clit. Humming with each jerk of your body as the sensitivity makes you squirm. Tongue wiggling inside of you like an eel, your hands are gripping his hair for dear life, yanking at the roots like you’re pulling weeds. Your thigh is on his shoulder, the leg on the ground begins to shake as your first orgasm rips like a tidal wave through you. Head thrown back against the door, moaning loud enough for the entire park to hear— you don’t care.

Your noises stir Eddie’s arousal even more. Whimpering as he grip him impossibly tighter he a broken, “fuck,” into your folds as he goes back for seconds, “you’re gonna get me into trouble, pussy so fucking sweet.” His lips are wet, your arrival shining like pretty lipgloss allover hos chin and lips. Already spent from the teasing and the damn breaking, Eddie hikes you up over his shoulder, your bare volumtuous ass bouncing with every step. He throws you onto a king sized bed, unmade and reeking of weed. Rolling papers on the night stand along with several lighters you aren’t given much time before Eddie kicks his jeans off, boxer briefs do him justice as his cock jumps to his belly when he unthreads his legs from them. Pearly beads of pre cup drip from the thick head.

Eddie leans forward and places a thick hand on your neck, your vision blurs and returns with each grip he threatens and releases his teeth biting your lips, slow drops of blood seep from his bites, he licks the wounds clean.

“Havent used rubbers since the 80’s and I won’t, so are you on the pill or are we ending this right now?”

“Pill,” you warble, chords of your neck strained against his hand.

“Thatta girl,” he praises, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, “I’m gonna fill you up full with my cum you’ll be leaking it out for hours.. maybe days.”

Tears sting your eyes at the thought of his glorious pearly cum deep in your walls painting them pretty, “please daddy, I need it.”

Eddie grins, “so needy baby, you want this cock?” he asks, flicking it through your folds, a noise resembling macaroni and cheese is blasts from your core, he groans deep, “so fucking wet,” his lip is almost bit in half with how he’s trying to hide his excitement, “I’m gonna wreck this sweet pussy so you won’t be able to walk home.”

Whimpering like a bitch in heat, Eddie flips you over, angles your ass up, slapping each cheek hard enough a red hand print sized welt develops almost immediately, he pushes all of himself into you, bottoming out as you moan and cry thanking God in your head as you’re split open, a welcomed pain. Spit soaks his sheets from your mouth when he pulls out, “oh you can take it, honey, don’t fucking quit on me.”

“I’m n—,” gasping loudly when he spits harshly on your ass. Rubbing his thumb against the pink button. The new sensation brings color to your closed eyes, stars and shapes of all size float in your closed mind, your pussy clenched harder around Eddie as you whine his name.

“Yeah?” Eddie moans, “told you daddy would take care of you, that needle dick can’t make you feel like this can he?”

you try to choke out a ‘no’ but no noise comes out, your head is thrown back violently as Eddie grabs your hair in one hand and pounds mercilessly into you.

Eddie is grunting with each slap of his heavy sack against your clit, “this is what you came here for right? Bad girl can’t pay her rent so she came to fuck the owner in exchange?” His taunting only makes you wetter, makes you clench his harder as you come undone for the second time. Screaming his name until you’re breathless. Panting and sweating like you ran a marathon. He gives you one more deep thrust of his hips and watches you fall forward.

“Look at the mess you made you little whore,” Eddie spits, venom laced words on that glory filled tongue, as he drags you by your hair to look at his soaked cock, “lick it up, want you to know how fucking sweet you taste.”

Eddie flips you over like a rag doll, positioning you the way he wants. Head dangling off the mattress, Eddie groans as he jams his cock into your throat, holding it there and choking you simultaneously. He reached to the night stand and grabs a black small vibrator placing it on your clit. The vibrations make you moan and choke around his length and against his hand. Eyelids fluttering shut you’re positive you can’t breathe, just when you’re about to pass out he brings you back, letting you breathe for a few seconds, chuckling to himself as you enter the hazy bliss of intoxicating euphoria. Your body convulses under his. Begging for a third orgasm, you can taste the earthy tang of your release and Eddie’s pre cum mix on your tongue.

His girth fills your throat completely, barely leaving room for your own tongue in your mouth. He’s dripping sweat onto your own body you can feel it slip from your belly button down into the curve of your neck. Eddie's hair is swaying in conjuncture with his hips slamming home against your face. Using your mouth like his own fist has you soaking the sheets, clit over stimulated, a deep bruise settling inside the soft silk of your velvet folds. A bruise you’d wear proudly for weeks to come.

Slapping your face as you gag lightly, mind steadily focusing on the jerking of your legs and the vibrating pulse of your cunt. Eddie shushes you reassuring you, tauntingly “someone too big for their britches huh? Work through it, sweetheart— that’s it, fuck good girl,” he chokes a whimper down his own throat as your tongue swirls around him. “Christ, swallowing what I give you, such a good girl for daddy.” Eddie thrusts one more deep cant of his hips into your mouth groaning deeply when you hollow your cheeks. Letting you breathe freely.

“You like that? Like me using you like a worthless fucking toy?” Eddie lifts you up to his face by your hair, kissing your lips delicately, you nod and whimper as he harshly sucks and nips at your neck leaving purpling marks in his wake.

Unabashedly you scratch your long nails into his chest, leaving your own mark on him as he groans against your skin. “My turn,” you whisper as you crawl into a standing position in front of him. Kissing him sweetly and pulling his bottom lip between your teeth, he whimpers at your touch. A tantalizing smile radiates across your lips. Eddie Munson a switch? Who knew? Pushing his shoulders backwards he falls on the bed, curtains of curls cascade around him and his face is turned up in shock then to a satanic grin.

Wiggling your tight skirt down your body you stand in only your heels.

“Fuck, you are a goddess.” Eddie groans, stroking his thick length in slow rhythmic motions as he stares at your body shamelessly, you climb towards him on his messy sheets between his legs your poor abused throat sore and bruised from his animalistic fucking.

His chest is littered with tattoos both old and new, faded and blown out lines mixed amongst sharp edged fresh ones stark against his pale skin. Blistering red lines decorate him from your nails earlier. Knees on either side of his hips you slot your pussy lips against his needy thick cock, sliding forward and back again, your hands on his chest for leverage. Leaning up on his elbows and moving you both backwards so he can rest his back against the headboard, he scants forward to kiss you but you push his forehead away dumbly.

Tsking and using few words to speak with a hoarse voice you whisper, “no touching.” Grinding your hips down into him, pocketing his cock in your slick folds like a sword in a sheath, you lick a stripe up his neck and land at this ear, your pretty moans singing to him like a demon seeking a naive victim. His hips jump with each roll of your own, desperate for relief he whimpers and whines as he’s close and you retreat. Starting all over again. After the third go around his bangs are stuck to his forehead, cheeks warm with a frustrated, worked up blush as you edge him again and again.

“Mmm’ fuck that’s a good cock daddy,” you moan as you come hard on his cock again making a mess yet again, he groans as you milk him for all he’s worth, your creamy pussy clenching against him, and your denial of his release is too much for him. “you wanna come for me?”

Eddie nods in spent anticipation, practically tearing up from being so worked up and being able to release himself. “Please— I can’t,” he groans, as you start grinding on him again, only this time you give in, hugging him in a pinky sheath of gummy walls and slick floors. “Christ,” he melts as you bounce atop his cock, dragging your hips backward and forward helping him hit the spot you so desperately craved from him. His thick hands are on your hips moving you to his liking, a pebbled nipple in his mouth makes you cry out his name as he pumps into you holding you still.

He slaps your ass, “I’m gonna come, shit, fuck!” He hums your name as hot ropes of his thick release coats your walls and floods out you don’t stop riding him, coaxing every last drop out of him until he’s hissing through his teeth as his softened length falls out of you, hot, reddened and aching.

Eddie pulls you to him, kissing your neck and scooting you both down the bed. “Think you’re my favorite tenant,” he laughs as you lay motionless on top of him, both breathing heavily.

“Jesus, I’d hope so, but maybe Miss Richard’s comes over here to get some money knocked off her rent,” you tease, tracing circles into his spotty chest hair, “heard she’s real pretty in her nightgown, just gotta be careful of her poligrip.”

He laughs again, smacking your ass, “you’re a fuckin’ brat y’know that?”

“And you’re a filthy fucker, quite the pair I’d say,” you spit before biting his chest.

Eddie yanks you by your hair to look you in the eyes, “not every day a pretty baby like you comes knocking on my door to rattle my cage and get free rent. But I’d like if you came over more often, that attitude needs adjusting.”

“oh really?” you question, hand under your chin like you’re bored as you roll your eyes, “and your old ass is gonna be the one to tame me huh?”

You spend a greater part of the night bent over Eddie’s knee, his studded belt in his hand as he whips you again and again. Tears spill from your eyes, and coat his thighs. Eddie’s sadistic ass only grins, a joint hanging limply from his lips, shushing you softly, “don’t cry honey, I told you your ass wouldn’t be able to cash that check.”

-

-

👅 I’m gonna go touch grass now

[st-kitten]

707

next chapter →

WARNINGS: (m.) masturbation, nicknames (baby, babygirl, good girl, princess, pretty girl) little megumi being painstakingly adorable

life as a single father trying to make ends meet was hard for toji fushiguro. his job as a security guard for some company didn't pay much. whatever he earned went into bills, rent, and groceries, leaving next to nothing for him to save or even spend. how he wished there was a simpler way to earn. he'd be exhausted by the time he came home and crashed, only to be woken up by megumi. as much as he loved the kid, getting him ready for school and out the door was harder than an mma fight.

all the babysitters he hired were useless. most of them agreed just to get into his pants so, when they found out that they were hired 'because' he couldn't be home, they left in disappointment.

toji never relied on his neighbours either. partially because they were too old or kids themselves, with parents who also hired babysitters. the closest anyone ever came to being a candidate was his next door neighbour, you.

but he vowed to never approach you. even if it meant leaving megumi to cry midday, over a glass of spilled milk. why?

[flashback]

toji had just helped megumi catch the school bus. waving him goodbye, he went back inside the building. the days got colder each passing day, which meant that he was going to have to repair the broken heater and buy some warm clothes. how ever was he going to afford it in time?

collecting the mail, he stood in the temporary warmth of the elevator, yawning. he really wanted to go back to sleep. his work began at 10 am, so he still had two hours, maybe he could take a nap. or fix that heater himself.

he stood in front of his apartment, looking through his pockets for the keys when he heard muffled noises from the apartment next door. he had only seen you once, when he accidentally took your mail instead of his and had to give it back to you. you always seemed distant and cold, so hearing you softly, yet loudly screaming a series of "yes! yes! keep doing that!" at 8 am made him wonder what the fuck was wrong with you.

he let it slide. people had lives.

but you didn't stop there. when toji came back from his work at night, holding a bag of vegetables, he heard you again.

"oh god! yes!"

and two days later when toji brought megumi home early as he got sick in school, "just like that, baby!" he had to keep babbling random trivia to his son so that he wouldn't hear you. how many times is she going to do this?

when it was toji's day off, and he was taking a nap on the couch, he heard you moaning again. it wasn't that loud, but the single wall between your apartment and his did a terrible job at muffling it. toji was glad that megumi was at school.

[back in present time]

months had passed by and he was still not used to hearing you. he'd forgotten what you looked like, so he didn't recognise you whenever you passed by him or even when you were in the elevator with him. all he knew was that he hated you for being so disturbing.

the day he was dreading finally came when he wanted someone to look after megumi for the night as he had to cover someone's shift, and not a single person was available. with an ale tankard of reluctance, he rang the doorbell, truly expecting you to open it naked, some angry fucker peeking from behind 'cause he didn't get to finish...

so when you opened the door looking the complete opposite; wearing loose sweatpants, a barbie hoodie, house slippers and your hair tied in a messy bun, half a banana dangling in your mouth... toji held back a sigh of relief.

"hey... i'm toji, i live next door," he said, trying to sound sincere.

"i mow woo yooah," you said, chewing the banana quickly, and swallowed it.

"right... listen, i gotta cover an extra shift and i need someone to look after this brat for the night."

you held back a laugh upon hearing him refer to his son like that. you'd only seen megumi from a distance. but, you had no reason to refuse.

"sure! i'd be happy to!"

toji was still unsure about this, but there was no backing out now.

"cool. i'll send him in twenty minutes." toji vanished before you could say anything else. you chuckled to yourself. for a man of his size and built, he sure was a chicken when it came to communication.

you cleaned your living room before he could come back. your place was kid-friendly enough. you made sure you prep the kitchen in case he hadn't had dinner.

your doorbell rang and you scurried to open it.

"here's a list of things you'll have to do... he's... a little tough. but he's a good kid."

you took the list and gave it a brief look and nodded.

"alright, megs, you're gonna be staying with this lady today. i'll be back soo-"

megumi began tugging his father's pants grumpily, upset at his words.

"don't be like that, kid..." toji sighed. he didn't like to exhibit his personal life in front of others.

"please? i'll get you ice cream."

megumi's ears perked upon hearing ice cream. "chocolate?" he cooed.

"yes. now go inside."

clutching a tattered dog plushie (with two heads for some reason), he stepped inside your apartment, looking down.

toji knelt down to meet his eyes. straightening megumi's sweater, he said, "i'll be back tomorrow morning. behave, okay?" megumi nodded, almost on the verge of crying. you held back the 'awwws'.

"alright... i'm trusting you. don't f- mess it up," said toji, looking at you with a glare.

"i won't..." you just smiled solemnly. you'd say the same if you were in his position.

toji wanted to tell you to not have sex for that one night, but he chose not to add fuel to the fire. who was he to tell you not to fuck? if anything, he was mildly jealous that you got to enjoy it so much.

toji left and you turned back to megumi, who was standing in your living room, anxious to move a muscle.

you sighed. "hello, megumi. i'm y/n." you crouched down and held out your hand to him. he hesitated before holding three of your fingers and shaking them. you smiled.

"sorry about this... you don't know me at all and now you're stuck with me. must be weird."

megumi stayed silent. you got up and went to the kitchen, which was open and visible from your living room easily. you opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of chocolate milk that you'd gotten free with something.

"would you like some?" you shook the carton. megumi loved chocolate in any form. not wanting to sound too excited or desperate, he gave a curt nod. you poured him a cup of milk and handed it to him.

"you can sit down wherever you want."

megumi scanned the room and spotted a bean bag. he'd never seen one. he looked at you and then back at it.

"you wanna sit there? sure!" you placed a hand on his head and led him to the corner. you held his cup for him while he tried to sit. he immediately sank into the bean bag, hearing the sound of tiny malleable balls that shifted as he sat down. megumi's eyes widened as he tried not to bolt out of there. when he was settled down, he found it pretty comfortable. he liked how he could stretch his legs and sit at the same time.

"comfy, right?" you said, handing him his cup of chocolate milk. the way he held it with both hands made you want to scream in a pillow. no way that asscrack of a man was his father.

you went over the list once more. it was simple. bedtime was 9 PM, no allergies, likes sweet food, but easily gets a sugar rush, etc. you laughed at the numerous spelling mistakes in it.

"so, what do you like to do?" you asked, sitting down on the floor in front of him.

megumi didn't like talking to babysitters. mostly because they never paid attention to him. he didn't like how they bossed him around. or how they got mad when he asked them if they could play with him. so he would stay silent. nobody ever asked him what he liked to do, so your question caught him by surprise.

he thought about it. what did he like to do?

"paint..."

"you paint?" you asked. you always liked the idea of kids drawing and painting.

megumi nodded. he was obsessed with a box of paints his father had bought him ages ago. the paints were long dried and over. but he still dipped his brush into them, watering them and painting with whatever colour came out of it.

you didn't have paints or brushes that he could use... but an idea struck you and you wondered whether he'd like it.

"wanna paint my room?" you suddenly said.

megumi's eyes lit up with curiosity. won't your walls get damaged? what if he spilled paint on the floor? or on you?

"the walls in my room are sad and empty. i have some paint cans that the painters forgot about when i was renovating. there are some colours still left. what do you say?"

megumi nodded. you got up and went into your room, searching for a shirt you give him as overalls. you pulled out the paint cans from under your bed. you took an old shirt of yours and brought it to him in the living room.

megumi had finished drinking his milk, so he thought he'd keep the cup back. hearing you call his name startled him and he dropped the cup, watching it shatter into pieces. he tensed up and felt his eyes water. you were going to scold him, punish him, maybe even hit him. he deserved it. he broke your cup.

"oh my, are you okay?" you rushed to his side, crouching and checking him for wounds.

"sorry... sorr-" megumi tried his best not to cry. he was expecting an earful at any moment now.

"why?" it was all you asked.

megumi looked at you in shock.

"cup..."

you chuckled sympathetically. "so? cups break all the time."

"i break cup..."

you stood up, unsure of how to convince him that he did nothing wrong.

"okay... you broke the cup." there it was. you were angry. megumi was going to get scolded.

instead, he watched you pick another cup from the shelf. you took the cup, and angling it far from megumi, you threw it.

"and i broke a cup too. guess we're both clumsy..." you shrugged and picked up the pieces, swiping the rest with a broom and tossing them in the garbage.

megumi didn't know what to say. had he really done nothing wrong? it was just a cup... yeah, just a cup.

"come, let's paint my room," you held out your hand to him. slowly, he grabbed it, walking behind you towards your room. your hands were soft and warm. and you didn't pull him or drag him. instead you were walking slower just for him. why were you so kind?

you brought him to your room and asked him to help you spread newspapers on the floor. then you handed him a shirt, helping him put it on since it was huge for him. he looked like a penguin.

"megumi... please, i'll give you more chocolate milk, but can i please take your picture? you're too cute," you asked, clutching your heart.

megumi blushed and nodded, looking away.

you clicked at least twenty pictures of him in your shirt, holding a thick paintbrush, standing on newspaper barefoot. you made a mental note to send these to toji.

"alright, pick your colours."

megumi carefully scanned each colour. then he looked at you. he didn't want to mess up this opportunity. it wasn't every day that he got to paint a wall instead of paper. he wanted to make sure you'd like it.

you seemed the type of person who would appear stern, but on the inside, you were really soft and caring. like a marshmallow. he wanted the room to suit you. being the observant kid, he looked around the room and learned that you liked necklaces, most of which looked like fancy saturns (iykyk). you also liked flowers as there were vases on your nightstand, windowsill and some were on your bookshelves. you also had a lot of books. what really caught megumi's attention was that you had three guitars hung on the wall. your room was totally your personality. he knew what he wanted to paint.

megumi pointed to a few colours and you handed him a few brushes of different sizes. he dipped one in red paint and began painting a few strokes on the wall (only after glancing back at you a hundred times in case you changed your mind). you sat on the bed, watching him focus. he was definitely smarter than kids his age. you admired him.

after a while, you left the room, telling him that you were going to make dinner. curry rice got an approval from him, so you occupied yourself in the kitchen, humming to yourself. you wondered what all he had painted in your absence. you didn't really care about the wall; you only hoped he'd feel safe enough to be a child.

you finished cooking and plated the food, setting on the kitchen island you used as a dining table. you pulled a chair and stacked some couch pillows on it, increasing the height of the seat. you called to megumi, but he didn't answer.

you stepped into the room to call him for dinner again, but no words came from your mouth as you stared at your wall, awestruck.

megumi had painted so many flowers and vines that ran across your wall in different colours. he'd even mixed a few colours and created new ones. he drew the saturn orbs matching your jewellery in the center of some flowers. though he could only paint a part of it and couldn't reach higher, the wall looked full of life.

"megumi..."

he looked at you, anxious to hear what you had to say.

you stood behind him, admiring the wall.

"you made my wall magical. this is so beautiful!"

megumi had a tiny smile on his face.

"you're an artist, gumi" you said, ruffling his hair, and he blushed at the nickname you gave him. nobody ever gave him a nickname apart from his father. people would often forget his name.

he felt his chest swell with pride and happiness. he did a good job.

"let's put fairy lights on the wall!" you chirped and he nodded.

you helped him out of his shirt, tossing it into the laundry basket. you sat him down on the high chair and you both sat down for dinner. megumi liked the food. but he truly loved how you let him be himself without bossing him around. it finally dawned on him that he had broken your cup, painted your wall, and was eating your food and you had absolutely no problem with it. he felt himself breathe freely.

after dinner, he helped you clean the room and stick fairy lights all across your room. you went overboard with it, but when you switched them on and lay on the bed watching them twinkle, it felt worth it.

"we did a good job, today." you gave him a high five.

megumi yawned and you took it as a sign to prep him for bed. toji forgot to give you his toothbrush, so you tore him a new one. you wouldn't dare let a child sleep in the living room, so you tucked him in your bed. you were so glad you bought that expensive comforter because seeing megumi snuggle into it turned your eyes into beating hearts.

upon his request, you tucked in his ominous dog plushie with him and bid him goodnight. megumi fell asleep easily, snoring softly. you made rounds to the room to check on him and felt your heart melt every time. he was definitely an active sleeper. his positions would get bizarre every time and you'd pull the comforter on him properly each time.

you finally slept on your couch around midnight.

toji didn't sleep a wink. the world's most boring job had him awake all night, opening gates for rich snobs who partied and returned to the semi-residential building at odd hours.

the only thing on his mind was megumi. he prayed that you weren't fucking someone with him in the house. he wondered if he'd eaten. he wondered if he was asleep right now. he hoped you gave him his demon dog to sleep with.

when dawn broke, he was out of there. he drove his dying truck straight to the parking and dashed out of the car. he decided to grab his and your mail, just so he'd have an extra excuse to knock on your door.

he didn't bother asking you for a key. he just yanked open the letterbox and it easily came into his hand. he grabbed whatever was in it.

"did you hear apartment 707? so loud.... that too in the morning"

"how could i not? but, im not surprised..."

toji heard two ladies gossip, waiting for the elevator. 707... his apartment was 706, so it had to be you. he was going to murder you.

he sped in and out of the elevator, rushing to your place. expecting to hear the sound of sex, he stopped in his tracks... you were not having sex? your door was conveniently ajar and toji spotted a few empty cans of paint outside.

he opened the door, peeking in, only to see... his adorable five year old son, jumping around and dancing with you to a christmas song, decorating a large tree in your living room. (christmas tree farm by the one and only... blondie)

if toji could explain how much he wanted to giggle at the sight, he would. but he only watched the two of you, leaning against the doorframe, hands folded, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

"where every wish comes true!!!" you sang, hanging the ornaments miscellaneously. megumi poked your leg and you picked him up, helping him tie a bell around a branch.

you swayed and danced to the beat with megumi on your shoulders, who laughed loudly.

toji felt his heart melt upon hearing his son laugh. he hadn't heard that sound in a long time.

he looked around and spotted a plate of half-eaten pancakes and glasses of milk. did you drink milk with him? he held back a laugh.

as you turned around, you spotted toji and nearly threw yourself in the tree.

"dad!" megumi chirped, happy to see his father. toji took it as an invitation to come inside. seeing megumi almost as tall as him, he chuckled and looked him in the eye.

"here's your ice cream, stinky," he said, holding a bag full of ice cream cups.

megumi giggled.

toji smiled widely and you sobbed at how cute the kid was. you placed him down and he ran to his father, clinging to his knee. you took the ice cream bag from toji and placed it on the kitchen counter taking the contents out.

[next song: under the tree by sam palladio]

you handed megumi a cup of chocolate ice cream and the uselessly small wooden spoon that came with it.

"which one do you want?" you asked toji who had yawned at least a dozen times by now.

"anything is fine."

you tossed him the pinkest strawberry ice cream cup. he rolled his eyes, but began eating it anyway. you sat next to him on the couch. megumi insisted on sitting under the tree, on the tree-skirt, looking up at the lights and the ornaments from below.

"oh! look!" you said, pulling your phone out to show toji pictures of little megumi in an oversized shirt holding a paintbrush.

"what's this?" toji asked. though his kid looked cute, he still didn't know what happened when he was away.

"yeah, he painted my wall," you replied.

"HE WHAT?" toji asked, surprised. megumi never misbehaved. but i guess he finally snapped.

"yeah! it's so beautiful, i can't stop staring at it," you began mumbling.

this kid ruined your walls and you're happy about it? he thought you'd scold him.

"come, i'll show you," you signalled him to follow you and toji did, worried about the mess his son had made.

he also did not want to see your room, given that he'd heard you have sex plenty of times for it to etch in his mind like a song that just doesn't fucking leave.

he was not expecting for your room to be so... pleasant and unsuspecting. you had a queen-sized bed with fluffy pillows, plants in the room, some equipment on the desk. hell, instead of sex, it smelled like coconut.

you showed him the art megumi had blessed your wall with.

"he's great at painting!"

toji's eyes widened at the intricate designs on the wall. had megumi really painted this? was he this good at it?

"it's... good..." toji didn't know what to say. he felt really sad that his son was capable of something so great and yet toji couldn't do more for him.

you smiled, somehow understanding what he was feeling. it was the same thing you felt about yourself when you realised your love for music.

toji asked you to send him the pictures and you complied. he looked around your room in silence, not knowing what to do. but he decided to address the former elephant in the room.

"can i ask you something?"

"sure," you said, looking down at your phone.

"i don't have the right to pry in your personal life, but... next time you have someone over, keep it down? i don't want megumi to hear... that..."

"huh?"

"you know... what you and your boyfriend do..."

"i don't have one?"

"then whoever you bring home to fuck... just please, keep the volume low," said toji impatiently.

"i didn't bring any... oh, you heard that!" you said as it dawned on you.

"yeah, whatever that is..." toji wanted to hide his face. it felt like giving a child 'the talk'. and you weren't that old too...

"toji..." you called, holding back your laugh. he wondered what was so funny.

"i'm not having sex in here. what you've been hearing..." you almost held it back... "was me recording for quinn."

"huh?"

you sighed as you explained, "it's an app for people who like listening to spicy stories... i'm one of their narrators... i try to pick times when people are busy or not here... but oh my god, i'm so sorry you had to hear that..." you said with a laugh, grabbing his arm apologetically.

toji digested every word you said.

"why on earth would you do that?"

"it pays really well, you know..." you shrugged.

now you had toji's attention. "you get paid for speaking dirty?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"and narrating, reading lines, moaning, whimpering, shouting... the works."

"that's an odd job..." he commented. it truly was. he had no idea things like these existed.

"i'm a singer by profession, so this is just a side hustle. my room is soundproof so i can't hear outside noises, but sadly..."

"you're not ashamed?"

"why would i be? it's great that people like it. you should try listening to some."

"please, no," toji held his palm out to her. he heard you chuckle. "aren't you worried that people might find out about you?"

"of course i don't use my real name."

toji shook his head in disbelief.

"i know you're ancient, but try it someday. who knows, you might end up liking it," you said, showing him the app on your phone.

toji stared at you with a blank face. he wasn't that behind the times, was he? he snuck a glance at your screen, his eyes falling on your username in a corner. embarrassed, he swatted your hand away and you chucked.

"anyway, thanks for looking after my kid." toji got up and left your room as you trotted behind him.

"anytime!"

toji left with megumi, after thanking you once more and making his kid to the same. megumi had definitely enjoyed he spent with you. he wished he could do it again.

a few days passed by and megumi started to become more interactive with you, waving at you, telling about his day when you rode the elevator together, giving you some small sketches he made after you gave him a sketchbook and some colour pencils.

toji still hadn't warmed up to you, but he wasn't as dismissive as he used to be. in fact, he had gotten slightly curious about you. you lived a quiet life, or so it seemed on the outside. but he knew what you did and how unbothered you were about it.

why would people pay to listen to strangers moaning? it seemed bizarre to him. he tried to ignore it.

he was stuck on another night shift, leaving megumi with you. he was glad that his son didn't mind you. and you'd proven to be a capable babysitter. yet, all he wanted was to be near his son. home. the night couldn't get over any sooner.

toji sat in the booth provided to him, watching the streets. nights when people came and went by were just as boring as when nobody showed up. he contemplated taking a nap, but the last thing he wanted was to be fired for slacking off. especially when the night shift paid him a bit more.

he turned side to side in the swivel chair, groaning in frustration. so far, he'd watched eight mma matches on his phone, cussing at how pathetic they were. nothing entertained him enough to keep him awake.

that thing embedded in his subconscious mind suddenly resurfaced, making him gulp in guilt. he could do it. it's not like she'll know... as if he was being watched, toji switched the light off in his booth and discreetly took his phone out, lowering the brightness and pulling out a tangled pair of earphones, and plugged them in. he downloaded that app, signing in with a random email he'd created ages ago.

[mention; compromised: victoria pedretti, on quinn]

he remembered her username and typed it in. not wanting to dwell too much on it, he clicked on the first 'story' he saw. he didn't read the description. he had no idea what he was to expect. thankfully, the audio started with some context. he instantly recognised your voice. based on what he understood in the first few minutes of the introductory chapter, it was a story about an agent watching over the witness she was supposed to protect. he realised that it was a woman x woman story. not that he minded. he just enjoyed listening to your voice. you surely had a singer's voice.

the more he listened, the more engrossed he was in the plot.

"i can stay on the line, sure..." you said, as your character stood below a hotel, at a distance, watching the woman you were on the phone with, from the window, keeping an eye out.

"you're not wearing anything underneath... i might not be the only person watching, you know," you chuckled. your laugh sounded better all over, probably due to the recording quality. toji paid attention to everything he heard.

"...tell me where you're touching...does it feel good?"

"i wanna see your other hand on your breast..."

"do you want me in that room?" your voice was laced with quick breaths...

"now i'm gonna hang up...no, not to touch myself... I don't care that you're close!"

toji sighed in exasperation, truly engrossed in the story.

"wait, shit, there is a man... fuck i think he's armed..."

toji had never clicked on 'next' that fast in his life. okay, he was hooked. when he first heard about this from you, he thought it was just audio-porn. he didn't expect a full on story with a plot, internal monologue, the background noises. it was as if it was happening around him.

the next chapter had you grunt and scream as you fought some attacker. how on earth did she record this shit? was she also fighting in the apartment? he smirked, realising what a double life she was leading.

"i saw that smirk, don't get any ideas..." you said coincidentally and toji had to look around him for a moment.

"you're very, very distracting..." your voice seemed closer whenever the background music got fainter. maybe it was the mic or some technical tweaking. but it really sounded like you were speaking in his ear.

your pants were now mixed with small laughs. it sounded blissful.

"don't ever be sorry for kissing me..." toji was surprisingly okay with hearing sounds of you kissing, probably another woman.

"oh, these lips... can i? touch them? fuck..." you moaned slightly... and then laughed. "did you just bite my thumb? you're so bad... i might have to punish you."

toji had to grasp his phone tightly as heard you make out, hearing your breaths mingled with the sounds of your lips moving against someone else's. you sounded so different, so confident.

"you like that, don't you? me on my knees... touching you, licking you, tasting you..."

fuck

toji knew you were saying this to a woman, but he couldn't help picturing himself in her place. your hums, whimpers, breaths, they were all elevating his senses. he felt his pants tighten.

"yes, fuck..."

"i love your neck..." you panted. toji raised his head, gulping.

"you're so hot... fuck... me..." your moans had started to get louder, breathier.

"what if i don't wanna hurry? what if... i wanna make you beg for it?" toji instinctively let his hand wander down his body, to his pants. he loosened his belt. he slid his pants and boxers down just enough for his dick to spring out, harder than he expected it to be. your constant moans, whimpers and dirty words became music to his ears as he stroked his cock slowly.

"tell me how good it feels..."

toji groaned, quickening his speed, his eyes closed, his mind visualising your face. he imagined you doing everything he heard you do on the phone. touching him, licking him, tasting him... he fisted his cock to the sounds of your sweet voice, shamelessly.

"so good..." he hissed, as if to answer you, gliding his fist up and down his thick veiny cock, its tip glistening proudly.

"come for me, yes! yes! yes! fuuuuck..." you moan loudly, dragging the last word, breathing shakily.

"god..." toji gave up any restraint he had and let his cock burst like a dam, spoiling his pants.

he was high. high on your voice, your moans, your words. he wished he could experience it for the first time again.

a shrieking honk from the gate snapped toji back into reality. he zipped back up in a hurry, shoving his half-hard cock in his pants. he tied a jacket around his waist to hide it and scurried out of the booth to open the gate.

toji came home early in the morning, feeling floaty. he couldn't forget last night's events. not when you were right there. next door. probably recording the next one. toji didn't know how he was to face you, but he was damn sure about hearing you again.

and hear you he did. for days. he was finding the plot interesting too. but he was addicted to your voice. how were you so confident? how did you manage to record the perfect moans. did you have help? did you get off just to get a good audio? all these questions plagued toji's mind. he really wanted to ask you about it.

but how was he to do it without sounding like a creep? or worse, a pervert? but then again, you did till him about it yourself.

so, when he had to collect megumi from your house after coming back, he came up with the simplest excuse.

"see you later, gumi!" you ruffled his hair, watching him run to his father, who told him to go inside and wait for him.

before you could shut the door, he shoved his foot inside. "hey, uh... i had a question."

"come in..." you moved aside.

you were hungry, but didn't have the time to buy groceries. so, instant ramen it was...

toji followed you to the kitchen, rehearsing the imminent conversation in his head.

"what's wrong?" you asked, looking at his tensed brow.

"i'm a little starved for cash. megumi's birthday is coming and i want to give that urchin something good this time."

"awww..."

"you uh..." was he really going to ask that? would she even listen? "you were talking about that..."

you on the other hand, knew exactly what he wanted to talk about. so many of your friends had tried to do that same. the fact that toji was considering doing that made the composer in you mildly excited.

"you want to earn cash on quinn, am i right?"

toji's head shot up, looking at you, slightly horrified and ready to get his ass kicked out the door.

"alright."

"wait, what?"

"i'll help you... sell your voice."

"are you serious?"

"do i look like i'm joking?"

"would i even... be able to... you know..."

you leaned on the kitchen island, looking at toji, who had sat down in a chair across from you.

"just do it..."

"you expect me to do it just like that?" he asked.

"what, like it's hard?" you snorted.

toji just looked at you blankly. "you mean, you do it just like that?"

"women are expert at faking it, you know?" you smirked.

toji scoffed in disbelief, rolling his eyes.

wickedly, you began panting, whimpering, opening your mouth as lewd moans spilled out of you. you gripped the edge of the kitchen island, and whined, "yes! toji! just like that!"

toji felt like he'd been shot in the head... both, his heads... he felt a bulge in his pants. hearing you moan and actually seeing you moan were two different things. the way your eyes shut tight, brow creased, mouth opened and chest heaved, toji couldn't take his eyes of you.

you saw his reaction through squinted eyes and stopped, reverting to your normal self, scratching the back of your head, completely unbothered.

"so yes, toji... just like that..." you said, without the moans this time.

toji gulped.

"so, do you wanna record a demo? i can send it to my agent. if she likes it, she'll ask you to record a proper script."

toji sighed... what was he getting into? he didn't actually imagine himself doing it. would it be embarrassing? no, fuck it. he could really use the extra cash.

"no one can know," he said sternly.

"you can use a pseudonym. you can literally put an emoji as your name."

"whatever. as long as nobody can trace it back to me."

"i guarantee you they won't. let's send an anonymous demo, 'kay?"

"fine. but, i don't know how to do this shit. it's too... fucking dumb."

you chuckled. "it is. dumb and fun. but doesn't it make you feel... like a king, knowing that the world gets off to your voice?"

toji scoffed and smirked. oh, how he wished she knew that he had been getting off to her voice nearly every damn night, palming his dick, picturing you saying all those dirty things to him.

he followed you to your bedroom where you had set up your mic, your laptop, you desk, under a labyrinth of wires and cables. he was made to sit in the chair facing the mic. the fuck am i doing...

you tapped on your laptop, leaning forward on the desk. toji's hammering anxiety took a break when he realised how close you were. your tits were practically in his face. he'd only ever seen you in baggy clothing, so this was a pleasant surprise. they were big. but they'd easily fit in his hands. he was a little disgusted by the fact that he was severely attracted to you.

"okay... what would you like to say?"

"i don't know..."

"what are your go-to swear words?"

"uh... fuck?"

"and?"

"i don't swear because of my kid... so, i don't know... this is difficult, y/n..."

"what do you have to fear?"

she was right. what was he to lose? to fear? nothing. he knew how hot was. he knew ladies threw themselves at him. he knew his sex appeal was impeccable. so then why was this so difficult?

oh, he knew why. you. it was because of you. the way he'd listened to your moans all week, stealing glances at you whenever he saw you, and now that he was in your bedroom with you...

fuck that! this bitch just faked an orgasm in front of me without a problem. i can at least spit out a few sentences.

"how do you start?"

"well, i usually have a script and there's good enough build up."

"so, give me one of your scripts."

"really? you wanna say, 'touch my pussy'?"

"fuck no. ugh, this is frustrating," he groaned loudly, leaning back and running his hands through his hair.

"hey, wait, that's good!"

"huh?"

"say it again."

"this... is frustrating?"

"tojiiiii," you rolled your eyes and smacked his arm. "say it like you did before. with the groan and all."

"i can't just do it on command."

"do you want me to leave you here alone with a gravure magazine then?"

toji's narrowed his eyes at her. "you read those?"

"no, but, you get the point."

toji sighed. you thought of another way to get him riled up. if a sexy audio wasn't gonna happen, then an angry one it was... there were plenty of angsty stories in demand. you clicked on record without him knowing.

"stop acting like a virgin, toji," you said and he shot you a glare. you let your mouth run a marathon, "no, for real, you're a grown ass man with a nice, deep voice. you look like you'd be pissed off if someone so much as looks at you wrong. or worse, if someone tries to mess with your son-"

"watch your mouth," toji growled, grabbing your jaw with his fingers, pressing it tightly.

"or what?"

"or you regret ever letting me in this house. that kid fucking loves you. you keep him out of this. do not... ever use him... to use me," he snarled.

you pressed the spacebar to stop recording. toji pulled his hand back, putting two and two together.

"that... was something."

"i mean it."

"sorry... but damn, angry toji... is sexy..." you commented.

"yeah? you like that?" toji said with a smirk. you squealed, regretting not recording that.

"SAY THAT AGAIN." you began recording again.

toji let out a deep chuckle. "you want me to say that again, pretty girl?" oh, he was starting to get into it.

you nodded.

"beg for it..." toji whispered, slightly closer to the mic. he watched you hold back another squeal.

"use your words, baby."

you were almost jumping up and down at how good he sounded. you really wanted to use his voice. you figured your agent would ignore yours and focus on his.

you exhaled, "please, please say it again!"

"hmm..." toji's baritone voice reverberated in the mic. "that doesn't sound so convincing, princess..."

you banged the air above the desk, pursing your lips and grinned.

"please please please! i'll do anything!"

oh, toji was starting to see the fun in it. "anything, you say..."

"yes! whatever you say!" you too were blending well with him.

"get on your knees, then baby..." he said brusquely.

your jaw dropped, morphing into a wide smile as you silently cheered him. toji found your reactions entertaining. true, you'd been doing this longer than him, so you were probably used to hearing all that. you were genuinely enjoying him.

you gave him a thumbs up and he made his closing statement, making sure to murmur, "good girl..."

you stopped recording and grabbed toji by his shoulders, shaking him. "AAARRRRGGGH. you are a natural!!!!!"

toji smirked. that was oddly easy to do. mostly because you helped him into it.

"well, i'm not one to brag..."

"no, please brag."

"heh. do you think your agent will like it?"

"she will eat it. she will want to become it."

"how much do you make exactly?" he asked.

"i had to do a lot of small freebies until i got my big break. i made [good amount] per episode. i've done three stories, each with twelve chapters. im working on a fourth one... so it's incomplete."

that must have been the one toji had listened to the first time. he did click the first thing he saw. he'd been replaying the first three episodes over and over, coming undone to them. but now that you'd said there were more...

"that's actually very..."

"rich, right? i was surprised too."

"so, you're gonna send it to your agent now?"

"yep. she'll like it. under what name do you want it?"

toji thought about it. he couldn't have this traced back to him. not with megumi's life at risk. it had to be something entirely random. yet meaningful...

"how about... 707?"

you grinned. that was a smart pseudonym. "done."

"well... tell me how it goes. and once again... not a word about this in public. what happens in this room, stays in this room," he warned you.

"WAIT SAY THAT AGAIN!"

toji chuckled as he stood up to leave and rejoin his son. before he did, he inched closer to you and whispered in your ear, "beg for it, babygirl."

you groaned and flapped your hands, fanning yourself. "you're so good at this!"

you'd sent that clip to your agent and got a response from her a few days later. to say the least, you were surprised by her request.

so, you stood at toji's door, phone in hand. he opened it.

"'sup?"

"it's my agent."

toji shut the door behind him, not wanting megumi to hear anything.

"what'd she say?"

you simply held out your phone and the text she sent you.

'WHO IS THAT?' 'GIRL LOCK THAT MAN IN THE BASEMENT' 'he's got the job if he wants it. i just got a killer script! the only condition is'

toji raised an eyebrow at the last message.

'you both have to do it together'

[werecreature-addicted]

to the anon asking about the large amount of sex-trafficking/rape prompts/stories/blurbs, im going to try and give you a real answer

one major factor, is shame

it's a largely subconscious thing, the fact people's sexual fantasies lean toward this aggressive often dehumanizing scenarios.

but its something that has been observed in people raised with very strict social expectations regarding sexuality often having rape fantasies, because it is a way to indulge in their sexual feelings without having to admit to them, in a way.

i, personally, am fat and queer. and while never stated outright to my face, the fact that small children have on several occasions began crying while looking at me in the supermarket line, I would also have to assume im not that much of a looker either

any show of desires for intimacy, physical or emotional, has been laughed at. people asked me out as a joke when i was in school, my father's side of the family openly lamented my appearance since I was a child because my only real value to them was continuing the family line, and that's not going to happen if I'm unattractive and fat

the fact is I have been told my entire life that me being wanted was impossible, if anybody desired me they would keep it a secret out of fear of ridicule, and anybody who would be open about it must have a specific fetish or be using me

I want to be wanted, hell there are times I'm desperate to get catcalled, because that proves somebody finds me attractive enough to express that. (even if the reality of it is objectifying and rude) the basis of these sorts of fantasies are often rooted in being seen as so desirable, so wanted, that any and all restraint goes out of the window. (you know that romance trope line that's like, "are you sure? because once we start i don't know if i can stop." same idea) the tendency towards trafficking and sexual slavery are also rooted in this, but with the added bit of "see, somebody wants me so bad they will spend money on me, to own me. they will fuck me in a crowded room without shame because their desire for me isn't something they're ashamed about, i am a prize, and the fact they get to fuck me is something they will gloat about."

one of the major appeal of monsters is that they wouldn't be bogged down by our social expectations, or they would have ones of their own. there is no fear regarding being wanted despite my looks, because the things about myself I have been told make me unattractive, are things that they openly and voraciously desire. Also, for the fat folks in the chat, wanting to be picked up and tossed around by your partner is largely something we can't have, (BMI is bullshit but mine is nearly double what it "should" be) you don't have to worry about that if your partner is an 8+ foot tall creature that can suplex a sedan

so while in reality, me being stocky and fat is seen as something that makes me unattractive, a werewolf would look at me and go "ah, yes, broad as a brick wall and twice as thicc, he can take it in a tumble."

can you see where the overlap occurs?

obviously there are some generalizations and assumptions based on my own biases here, and everybody's got their peculiarities, but these are themes I have seen throughout my many years too many online

I also just think monster fucker spaces are a little more open to taboo kinks. like wanting to fuck a werewolf who could kill you at any second is already weirder than most people want to go. thank you for sharing your perspective anon.

[httpscomexe]

Runaway 2

Summary: He’s told to take care of you, and he’s entirely willing.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Logan Howlett x Hybrid!Reader

Warnings: Innocent reader, controlling Logan, manipulation of emotions, Wade Wilson and Logan Howlett, mentions of sex. (Individual warnings per chapter)

Tags: @shybluebirdninja @atomicheartbroken

Word Count: 4090 (Find all chapters here) CH3

P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again.

“Wade would love her.” You’re hiding behind Logan. Your tail tucked between your legs, ears pinned down to your head. Honestly, you had every fucking right to be scared. Standing in front of Logan was a man, almost 8 foot tall, and he was built out of steel, his voice thick with a Russian accent. But he was wearing a tutu.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Logan asks, pulling a cigar out of the pocket on his flannel.

“We made the mistake of inviting Wade for a sleepover. This is the consequence.”

“He didn’t even let me take off my uniform.” Eloise walks by Colossus, a pink tutu around her waist, but she was still wearing her yellow suit. “Who’s that?” She nods her head towards you. You looked ridiculous. Hiding behind Logan, hands on his back, forehead leaning on him.

“This is the parasite I’ve been talking about.” He says, turning around, trying to ease you in front.

“She’s a hybrid?” Colossus asks, stepping forward, and you freak out, squeezing Logan from behind.

“Hey come on Bambi…” Logan groans, using the name he’s given you. “You’re okay… Piotr isn’t going to hurt you.” You loosen your grip on him slightly, and look at the large man from behind Logan.

“Hi little one. My name is Piotr.” He holds out his large hand, and you hesitantly move beside Logan, one of your hands still gripping his shirt, while your other hand meets Piotrs cold metal hand, and he shakes your hand gently, but you don’t tell him your name. You’ve settled on Bambi being your new one.

“I’m Eloise.” The girl tells you, but doesn’t shake your hand, instead only giving you a little wave.

“What the fuck?” You quickly scrambled back behind Logan. “And here I thought Negosonic teenage warhead was your first middle and last!” Another man comes into view, wearing a read suit with black eye patches.

“This is Wade, he won’t bite.” Piotr assures you.

“Not unless she asks.” His eyes land on you, and he removes his mask. “Hey there.” He comes a little close, but you feel Logan’s hand instinctively come in front of you, keeping you behind him. “My name is Wade. But with a face like that, you can me whatever you want. Wade, dipshit, fucker, motherfucker, Hal, Jesus, Ryan.” He stops talking, suddenly looking to his left before back at you. “Actually don’t call me Hal, that’s my biggest regret.” You ears twitches, and you tilt your head in confusion before looking up at Logan.

“You need to be tested.” He says.

“For what.”

“Everything.” Logan’s hand is still on you, keeping you behind him, but you’re more relaxed now.

“Well, Bambi is certainly welcome to join our tutu party.”

“Absolutely not.” You’re slightly disappointed. This Wade guy seemed funny.

“Jealous? You can come if you wear one.” He offers and you giggle at the thought of him wearing a pink tutu.

“We’re not coming.”

“Honey, do you let this honey badger make every decision for you?” You nod. “That was supposed to be a joke.” He adds, then turns back towards Logan. “It’ll be fun, we can actually get to know her instead of you hoarding her like she’s your belonging.”

“She is…” he pauses for a moment and looks down at you, “not my belonging. She’s a living being just like everyone here.”

“Then why can’t she hang out?” Eloise wonders, popping a piece of gum into her mouth.

“She said she’s tired. We were going to bed.” He tells them, wrapping his arm around you. “Right?” He looks down at you, and you nod.

“Well does she want a tutu?” Wade asks.

“Why don’t you ask her?” Logan questions.

“Oh sorry. I just thought you were her ultimate decision maker.” Wade reaches for an extra tutu sitting on the table. “Do you want one?” You nod, and he holds it out for you. Then he notices your ears, but doesn’t say anything. “Sleep well, Logan gets hot at night.” You giggle at his comments, and watch as the three walk away to continue their little party, you and Logan making your way back up to his room. The one he was letting you stay in.

He wasn’t lying of course. You were absolutely the most tired being on the planet. And it was because you couldn’t sleep. Logan tried everything to help you, but even when you did sleep, you squirmed and twisted like you were having nightmares. But you were simply uncomfortable. Eventually you both found you had better nights when you slept on the bed with him instead of alone on the couch. But only with his body against yours. So after some careful thinking, he realised it was because you couldn’t sleep in open places. You needed to feel cramped, like you were constantly being held. It made you feel safer when something was against you. Which led to Logan buying you a kennel.

Most nights it sat in the corner of his room. Thick white comforters and a big red heart pillow inside for the utmost comfort. It even had a nice white blanket over top to make it more comfortable, and little fairy lights on the inside in case it got dark.

“You sleeping in the cage tonight?”

“Are you leaving somewhere?” You were already crawling onto his bed. Dressed in you night shorts and a white tank top, a little hole cut in the shorts for your tail to peak out.

“No, I’m staying here tonight, leaving early though.” Your ears pin down a little as you hug one of his pillows, his scent clouding your senses as you lie there.

“When will you be back?”

“I won’t be back until late.” He tells you, sitting next to you on his bed. His fingers gently comb through your hair. “But you’ll be okay, just stay in here and study a little.” Study.

Years of being locked up of course had a toll on your education. You didn’t have a natural instinct for certain things like reproduction or affection. It took forever to get used to eating. So Xavier has you learning that sort of stuff instead of how to use your morph effectively.

“Okay…” You groan, rolling onto your back, his pillow under your chin.

“What’s wrong Bambi?” You groan and shove your face into the pillow.

“Can you braid my hair?”

“Of course, but you’ll have to get up.”

“I don’t wanna move…” You speak into the pillow, and sigh. He sighs in return.

“Alright, I’ll get some ties.” He tells you, and you feel the bed shift as his weight leaves the mattress, the bathroom door opening and closing before you feel his weight on the bed again, and his knees straddle your waist. “How many braids?”

“Just two.” You tell him, and you feel your hairbrush move through your hair, Logan gently pulling out any tangles as he strokes your hair with his fingers, careful not to touch your ears.

He’s learnt the hard way that your ears are sensitive. Just like a bird's wings are their most intimate part, your ears and tails were your most intimate part. It wasn’t that it turned you on, it was because they were sensitive. The slightest pull would hurt. But the smallest pet drove something into you. Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. But whenever he scratched you behind your ear, or ruffled your tail to help you dry it after a shower, it felt like euphoria.

You were both quiet as he began tying your hair. Looping one strand over another until they were in long braids. “What are you gonna study while I’m gone?” He asks, trying to make conversation as he pulls the first braid together and ties it.

“I guess I’ll look at the health book.” He hums a nod, and his finger gently moves over the back of your neck as he grabs for one of the bundles of your hair, and your tags wags a little under him. One of your ears twitching slightly.

“Just remember to text me if you need anything. Or Jean.”

“Jean is mean to me.” He sighs. He didn’t believe you whenever you said she was mean. Constantly taunting you or bullying you for your ears and tail.

“Well then there’s Ororo when she isn’t busy. Last resort is Xavier.” You sigh, and his fingers continue looping through your hair. He’s careful not to catch your ear between any of them.

“Why is he last?”

“Because he’s always busy, he doesn’t have time for questions.” He takes another tie and wraps it around the end of your braid to keep it together. Then you feel his index finger behind your ear, gently scratching the same place he knows you love, but he’s careful not to touch your actual ear. A sort of purring noise comes from your throat. And he chuckles. “I think you got more of the animal-like part than the human part Bambi.” He tells you, leaning down to whisper it in your ear and you turn your head to face him. He was still straddling your waist, and his fists were now on each side of your head as he leaned down, both of you staring into eachothers eyes. “Still cute though.”

“I’m not cute…!” You groan. And he finds it adorable.

“You absolutely are.” He tells you, sitting back up but still straddling your waist, his fingers moving back to scratch behind your ear, and he feels your tail moving under him.

“Am not!” You shout, and try to sit up, but his hands move to your waist just in time, his legs now straddling yours to keep you still.

“You so are…” He whispers, keeping you in place as you look over your shoulder at him, your large ear hitting him in the face. “Rude.”

“You’re rude!” Your tail was wagging faster now, working against you to show your excitement to his teasing.

“Such a feisty cute little girl.”

“Stop!” You begin to shout just before his fingers begin moving over your waist and stomach, your hands trying to catch his as he tickles you. “Lo-” You giggle, tail wagging quickly as you try to pry his hands off of you.

“Admit it…” He tells you, fingers still quickly moving over your skin.

“No!”

“Say it!” He chuckles, pushing you back down to your stomach with his body, his hands never stop moving.

“Never!” You giggle, struggling under him as it becomes hard to breathe from laughing.

“Say you’re my feisty cute little girl…” He whispers in your ear, still tickling you.

Of course, you’re too innocent to understand what he’s asking you to say.

“Fine!” You shout, and he pauses so you can catch your breath. “I’m feisty and cute.”

“Nuh uh…”

“What?!”

“MY feisty cute little girl.”

“Hmph…” You slump a little, and the feeling of his fingers ghosting over your skin is enough to make you say it. “I’m your feisty cute little girl.” You say finally, and he’s satisfied, slowly getting up off you to sit next to you on the bed.

“Good girl.” Your tail begins wagging again, the smallest praise affecting you as you crawl next to him just in time for him to turn off his bedside lamp. “Are you ready to sleep, Bambi?” You nod, leaning your weight against his side. “Okay.” He groans as he moves, his hips bucking up slightly which causes the tilt of your head.

“Love you Lo.” You tell him as the both of you begin to settle under the blankets.

“Love you too Bambi, get some sleep tonight.” You lie under the covers, scrunched up against him as his arms hold you as close as you can get against him. One of his hands rests on your tail, gently stroking the fur as he holds you, making your own hips buck forward against his and he groans quietly before both of his hands wrap around you.

She’s too fucking young for you Logan. He tells himself.

“And don’t talk to Wade.”

You wake up early, the feeling of Logan's warmth missing from your side as you sit up, and he’s not there. The sound of students moving through the halls makes your ears perk up, and you hop out of bed, deciding to throw on a tiny black skirt and one of Logan's hoodies, the smell of him would be enough to get you through the day.

You reach into his fridge, taking out one of the bottles of starbucks coffee that he bought for you, then you tie on your sneakers before leaving the room, heading straight towards the library.

Once you get to the library, you find the same health book you’ve been reading through, hiding your drink from the librarian when your eyes find the ‘no food or drinks’ sign in the front of the large room, then you find your spot on a couch in your favourite corner.

Except someone was sitting on one of the couches. Normally, that wouldn’t bother you. But it was Wade. Dressed in his red suit with one leg over the other, a book with a unicorn wearing a tutu in his hands and he flips through the pages.

“Hi Wade.” You say shyly, and he looks up from his book.

“Oh, Bambi. Didn’t see you there. Lose your owner?” He asks, setting the book in his lap before straightening his posture.

“Very funny.” You chuckle, sitting on the other couch. “He’s busy.”

“What’re you reading?”

“Some weird health book. Xavier said I need to.”

“Like a book about sex or a book about how to wipe properly?”

“Sex?”

“Oh that’s why Logan likes you…” He says quietly, leaning forward to place his book on the table in front of the two of you.

“What do you mean?”

“I could give you a hands-on lesson. If you’d like.” You shake your head.

“Logan said I’m not supposed to talk to you.”

“But here we are. What’s he gonna do about it?” You think about it, trying to find an answer, but you aren’t exactly sure what Logan would do to either you or Wade. “How about we do something fun?” He asks, reaching up and pulling off his mask. “We could watch a movie, I can show you around town or maybe we could go shopping for new clothes for you?” He throws a bunch of ideas at you, hoping something would hit. “I have a pet dog?” He mentions, and the sound of your tail wagging slowly is enough for him to smile. “Wanna meet her?”

“Where is she?”

“She’s at my house, my maid is taking care of her.” He tells you, standing up and reaching his hand out to help you up as well.

“Okay… Let me just let Logan know-” He stops your hand from texting Logan.

“Or, hear me out. You do something without Logan watching you like you’re his meal.” You think about it. You know Logan won’t be happy that you aren’t listening to him. But you figure there was no harm in hanging out with Wade. He seemed fun.

“Okay, yea. I won’t text him.”

“Good, I’ll call my cab guy, let’s go wait up front.” He begins to pull you by the hand, dragging you to the front doors. “Hey Dopinder, come pick me up at the freak house.”

He opens the door to his little home, it smelt surprisingly good considering the mess of empty bottles, forgotten plates, and dirty laundry. On the couch was a woman, her hair looked like a cloud on her head and she was folding clean laundry, humming a song to herself as Wade stumbled in, you following behind him. Then he slams the door, fist pumping the air as your ears go down from the loud sounds.

“UH!” He pumps his fist excitedly, knee joining in the air. “Knew I could get you to do my laundry, I’m home by the way.” He walks past you, and your ears come back up.

“I could fucking tell.” She looks towards Wade, but not exactly.

“Hey, language, we have company.”

“Last time we had company, he went through every fucking measure to make sure you were dead. There was blood everywhere, and I swear to fucking-”

“This company is a girl, and she’s young, like 20.”

“18. “ You correct him, and he looks surprised.

“Well hi sweetie.” Her tone changes completely and she stands up, using furniture around her to stay standing. “I’m Althea.” She holds her hand out, and you take a few steps forward so you can take her hand and shake it.

“I’m Bambi.”

“Like the deer?”

“Yes?” You tilt your head, unsure of how she knows you’re a hybrid if she’s blind.”

“There’s no way that Wade made a normal friend.” She grumbles. “Do you have really long claws?”

“No.”

“Do you have blue skin?”

“No?”

“Mind control or 7 foot tall?” You giggle a little.

“No… I do not.”

“Well that’s a relief, but I’m still confused. How’d you meet?”

“Through Logan.” You and Wade speak at the same time, and you watch as Wade stuffs an entire cupcake into his mouth.

“Oh see now that makes sense.” She tells you, moving back to do the laundry on the couch.

“Wade said there’s a dog?” You step forward, eyes on Wade.

“Oh yea…” He hums as he takes another cake, and he calls the dog's name. “Dogpool? Mary? Little puppins? Where are you girl?” Suddenly, a little dog comes through an open door, and you move to stand next to Wade as he picks the dog up, showing her to you.

“Aww, she’s cute!” You tell him, putting your hands out so he would hand her to you.

“You can call her Mary. She’s got a licking problem.”

“I like the suit.” You tell him, looking at the dog's red suit that matched Wades almost perfectly.

“Thanks, I made it myself.” He pauses for a moment. “Or at least one of me did, but we don’t talk about him.” You exchange looks, Althea scoffing behind you. “How about a movie? I think I know one you’d like. The title is the same as your name.”

The movie named ‘The Lion King’ plays in the background of you and Wade baking cookies. He at some point changed when the movie Bambi had ended, so he was now dressed in sleeping pants, covered in little unicorn designs, his shirt earlier tossed off after you had accidentally dumped flour on it.

“Okay, does it taste any good?” Wade comes back into the kitchen, wiping his hands as he walks back up to you, picking up a cookie.

“I don’t know, you try it first.”

“No, you try it first.” He tells you, chuckling.

“No you.”

“How about we both try it at the same time?” He suggests, walking closer to you as he breaks the cookie in half, handing you the bigger side.

“Fine.” You’re about to take a bite out of your cookie, then his half is near your lips as he attempts to feed you, so you do the same with your half.

You both take a bite out of the cookie halves, and Wade's eyes roll as he chews his bite.

“Fuck that is amazing.” He says, a mouthful of chocolate in his mouth, then your phone buzzes in your pocket. “Who’s that?” He asks, and you pull your phone out, Logan's name on the screen, and you mentally prepare yourself before opening it.

You sigh a little as you read the last message. You should’ve known better than to disobey him, so now you’d have to deal with the arguing, and you’d have to hope he would forgive you.

“Everything okay?” You look back up from your phone to see Wade stuffing his third cookie down his throat.

“Hey!” You laugh. “Save one for Althea and one for Logan, Wade.” You tell him, grabbing three cookies and walking over to Al. “Here Al.” You hand her a cookie, and she blindly takes it.

“Thank you, hun.”

“Of course.”

“Logan isn’t gonna eat it, he hates sweets.” Wade tells you, trying to get you to hand him Logan's cookie, but you refuse.

“I’ll make him eat it.” You tell him, and open your phone when it buzzes again. “Logan is here, I’ll see you Wade! Bye, Al.” You tell them, blowing a kiss to Mary before walking out.

Logan is staring ahead, not bothering to look at you as you walk to the truck, crawling into the high passenger seat.

“Hey Lo!” You say excitedly, acting as if you weren’t in trouble.

“Hey.” He pulls out of park, and begins to drive.

It’s silent. And you don’t like it. He notices the way your ears fall down after a few minutes of driving, and he sighs heavily.

“I asked you not to talk to Wade. But you’re hanging out with him?” He asks, more of a clarification as he pulls up to a red light.

“I was bored…” You tell him, looking down in your lap at the cookie you brought for him, wrapped in a paper towel.

“What’s that?” He looks down at your lap and you unwrap it a little.

“A cookie… Wade taught me the recipe.” You say quietly, and Logan feels his heart break at your quietness.

“Is it any good?” He asks, pressing on the gas as the light turns green and the mansion comes into view. You nod, but he doesn’t see it and he sighs, assuming you’ve decided to ignore him.

“Want some?” You ask, and he shakes his head, making you look back down.

“Not in the car Bambi. I’ll try it in my room.” He tells you, and the ghost of a smile appears on your face as he parks where he normally does and turns off the truck.

“Will you teach me to drive?” You ask as pulls his keys out.

“Maybe. But let's focus on more important things first.” He tells you, stepping out of the truck and he watches as you get out on the other side, locking the truck before walking beside you, his hand quickly grabbing yours as he leads the way to his room.

Once you’re both inside, he takes off his flannel, draping it over his chair before he sits on the bed, sighing as he rubs the back of his neck.

“Logan?” You say his name quietly, the wrapped up cookie still in your hand as Logan sits on the bed, and you sit beside him.

“Yes?” He looks at you as you sit on your knees, not wanting to sit on your tail.

“I’m sorry.” He doesn’t answer you, only shaking his head in annoyance and sighing. After a few minutes of him not responding, you speak again. “Do you… Wanna try still?” You hold up the cookie, still warmly wrapped up in the paper towel. Your tail was tucked between your legs, barely hidden by your skirt, and your ears were down on your head.

He chuckles. “Sure.” A bright smile appears on your lips, and you open the paper towel, breaking off a small piece of the cookie and bringing it to his lips, tilting your head when he takes it with his teeth, awaiting an answer. Awaiting approval.

“Tastes amazing.” He tells you, chewing the piece of cookie you fed him.

“Wade's recipe…” You sing a little, breaking off another piece, only singing his name in hopes to encourage Logan to like Wade.

“Good thing he taught it to you then, right? Won’t have to see him again.” He tells you, his eyes staring into yours and you sigh.

“He’s fun…”

“He’s annoying.”

“Why do you hate him?”

“I don’t hate him. He’s just a bad influence for you.” You sigh again, looking away from him in annoyance. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t sigh and give me the attitude.” There’s a growl in his voice as he speaks to you, and his comes up to cup your face.

“I’m sorry Logan…” You apologise. Again.

“It’s okay, Bambi.” He tells you, turning on the bed so his entire body was facing you. “Just don’t do it again.” His fingers brush some loose hair from your braids behind your ears.

“I won’t.”

“Good.” He tells you. “Now let's get these braids out, and I’ll brush your hair before bed…”

[melefim]

Swearing in Dead Boy Detectives: Fuck

Overview:

Fuck was said a total of 90 times, in all 8 episodes and by 15 different characters.

Uses Per Episode:

Fuck is said in all 8 episodes of the show, one of only 4 words to do so.

Episode 1: 7

Episode 2: 5

Episode 3: 13

Episode 4: 5

Episode 5: 8

Episode 6: 13

Episode 7: 16

Episode 8: 23

Uses Per Character:

Fuck is said by 15 different characters, more than any other word.

Edwin: 2

Charles: 5

Crystal: 20

Jenny: 18

David: 12

Esther: 6

The Cat King: 6

Tabby Cat: 2

Calico Cat: 1

Litty: 8

Kingham: 5

Brad: 2

Hunter: 1

Twitchy Richie: 1

Girl in Crystal’s Memory 2 (Club Fight): 1

Percent of Total:

Fuck is used 90 times, which is 27.9% of cursing in the show.

Variations:

There are 7 variations of the word used in the show, with the most popular being Fuck, which was used 42 times.

Fuck: 42

Fucking: 37

Fucked-up: 7

Fucked: 1

Fucker: 1

Fuckboy: 1

Mindfuck: 1

Rankings:

Total Uses: Fuck comes in first for total uses, being said 90 times.

Number of Episodes: Fuck is one of only four curse words that is said in all 8 episodes- the others are Shit, Ass, and God.

Most Uses of a Word in a Single Episide: Fuck holds 5 of the top 11 spots.

Most Uses of a Word by a Single Character in One Episode: Fuck took the title here as well, being said 10 times by Jenny in episode 8.

Total Characters: Fuck comes in first for number of characters to say it, with 15 using it throughout the show.

It is one of only two words said by the main trio of Edwin, Charles, and Crystal, the other being Damn.

It is one of only four words said by both Edwin and Charles—the others being Damn, Bloody, and Bloody Hell.

Favorite Word: Fuck is the favorite word of 7 different characters: Jenny (18), David (12), Litty (8), The Cat King (6), Kingham (5), Tabby Cat (2), and Brad (2).

Curse Word Variations: It comes in first for most variations, with 7.

Lines:

Episode 1:

Charles: Edwin, hurry the fuck up!

David: I'll fucking gut you! (x2 while possessing Crystal)

Crystal: It's just a stupid fucking name.

Tabby Cat: Fuck you. I'm not telling you nothing about that house or the witch inside.

Crystal: So maybe he's our fucking demon now!

Edwin: Police don't know what to do with a fucking witch!

Episode 2:

Litty: Little ghost fucker!

Litty: I'm gonna tell you something, because I think you really need to hear it, okay? You should go fuck yourself.

Litty: You know what? You can take that sweater and you can shove it up your ass. Do you have any clue how powerful we are? We are fucking gods!

Kingham: You better hope we never get out of here or we are going to fuck you up, like 'brass knuckles and mace' fuck you up!

Episode 3:

Jenny: It's a super fucked-up story so I'm gonna need some coffee

Crystal: What the actual fuck?

Calico Cat: At least we don't have to go inside. This house is fucked up.

Crystal: Just what the fuck is it?

Litty: Looks like they left you behind because you fucking suck.

Litty: They're all gonna fucking die.

Litty: We were fucking kidding, can't you take a fucking joke?

Litty: Stupid fucking bitch!

Charles: I'm just sick of watching this asshole kill his family a million times for no fucking reason. Tried it your way, and it did nothing. Sod it. Let's try mine. (x2 due to time loop)

Charles: His dad was bad, Edwin. Royally fucked-up bad.

Crystal: I am done wasting my energy on your fuckboy bullshit.

Episode 4:

Jenny: Ok, so you're what? You're just, you're not gonna leave until I explain this even though it's private and go the fuck away?

Tabby Cat: Fuck off. The kid had a sardine.

Crystal: You fucked with my head, I'm gonna fuck with yours.

Charles: Every day, I'm fucking smiling.

Episode 5:

Twitchy Richie: The fuck is this?

Jenny: Oh my fuck.

Crystal: You walk around acting like the sun always shines, and then you lost your shit while beating the Night Nurse. Edwin and I are walking on eggshells around you instead of just saying 'what the actual fuck?'

Jenny: What the fuck, Maxine?

Hunter: Oh, fuck that, you whiny little bitch.

Brad: It's a fucking tragedy that we died, okay?

Brad: What the fuck does that mean?

David: I'm a demon! And I always get what I fucking want!

Episode 6:

Crystal: I want to keep this demon the fuck out.

Jenny: Just like whatever the fuck I am doing is none of yours.

Crystal: It's like he's fucking haunting me.

David: Oh no, I'm so fucking scared.

Charles: Don't listen to him Crystal, it's just some sort of a mindfuck, innit?

David: Why the fuck do you smell so weak?

David: What the fuck did you do?

Crystal: I gave up my powers, OK? I got you out of my fucking head.

David: Now, she's just another fucking terrified lump of human flesh!

Crystal: I am nothing special, So why don't you just leave me the fuck alone?

David: Did you really think that you could beat me with a fucking cricket bat?

The Cat King: Do you hear me? I will stop fucking playing nice!

Esther: Teeth Face, what the fuck?

Episode 7:

The Cat King: Why the fuck are you here?

Esther: I know you blew up Monty's spot, you little fucking snitch.

The Cat King: I don't give a fuck, OK? End of audience.

The Cat King: That was my third life, you bitch. I only get nine. Would you fuck off? Fuck!

Crystal: Fucking bullshit, like I can't help.

Crystal: God, that's fucking insane.

Jenny: Fucking kid.

Jenny: What the fuck?

David: Why the fuck would you even want that?

David: What the fuck did you do? Where are we?

David: Maybe I was just fucking with you.

David: Fuck! Fine, you got your memories back.

Jenny: What the fuck was that?

Esther: You, you.. you think that you're the only one who's ever been screwed over? You're not. I fucking deserve this!

Edwin: That is so fucking stupid, It's unbelievable!

Episode 8:

Girl in Crystal’s Memory 2 (Club Fight): Get your fucking hands off my boyfriend, you slut!

Crystal: Oh, my God. Oh, I'm a fucking awful person. Oh, God, I'm the worst.

Jenny: What the actual fuck?

Jenny: And why the ever-loving fuck is my hair braided?

Jenny: Fuck that! That is bullshit!

Jenny: No fucking way.

Kingham: "No fucking way" to you. "No fucking way" to that side braid. What the fuck is that?

Jenny: Fucking fuck!

Jenny: Screw it. I'd rather know my own life, no matter how fucked-up.

Jenny: Jesus, fuck!

Crystal: Fuck! (Esther has the boys)

Jenny: I figure a meat cleaver can cut up a witch, but what the fuck do I know anymore?

Crystal: Because whatever fucked-up little thing you have going on with Edwin, you must care about him a little.

The Cat King: Fuck me. Did you even listen to my story?

Esther: Oh my God, my own sacrificial knife? I'm impressed. But I'm not fucking around that you're also gonna patch that wall before you die too.

Esther: Who the fuck are you?

Esther: What the fuck? Hey hey hey no! What did you just do?

Jenny: God, that sounds so fucking procedural.

Crystal: I don't have to give up my new fucked-up life while I'm trying to sort out my old fucked-up life.

Notes:

Not included:

In episode 1, Crystal flips off Edwin in the malt shop.

In episode 2, Litty flips off Charles, Edwin, and Crystal with both hands, and then later Kingham and Litty both flip off Edwin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

More Dead Boy Detectives Swearing Posts:

Masterlist

Swearing by Episode

Swearing by Character

Swearing by Word

All Swearing Posts

And if you like lists of things like I do, you can check out my other Dead Boy Detectives ones here!

When Charles’ Shirt Colors Change

George Rextrew’s Edwin comic inspo board

Full soundtrack with timestamps

Moves, Incidents, and Cases Masterlist

First pass at finding where the songs in the score are used- full post with timestamps in progress