#a normal father son interaction | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

charlotteking27 · 3 months ago

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Hi! Can I request a batfam x batmom. But batmom's not that quick to catch on, but it comes to a point where all the boys know she's pregnant, they are all treating her different. Damian (#1 momma's boy) is sucking up to her even more. So when she does announce it, everyone's like "Um we've known for a long time now..."

the secrecy

Bruce Wayne x reader

Summary: You're not quick to catch your family's sudden protectiveness. So when emotions run high, you're left with a test.

Warnings: the feeling of sadness... and that's it.

"Hmm, hmmm,hmmmm, mmm"

They watched as you danced around in the kitchen, slowly humming a melody you adored and sang to the kids when they were little.

"It's kind of bittersweet, you know," Dick grinned, watching you all happy, unaware of your stalkerish kids.

"Yeah, and demon spawn here is no longer going to be the baby of the family," Jason smiled devilishly, seeing Damian frown. "How does it feel?" Jason hinted mockingly before cooing at Damian.

"Stop... teasing him," Tim bantered hysterically, trying to catch his breath, punching Jason in the arm jokingly. It was as if he didn't want him to stop, but he had to show some type of empathy, even if it was fake.

"Look, we can all agree that we need to take care of Mom," Dick interrupted, hoping to shift Jason's teasing off of Damian. They all collectively agreed for the first time ever.

𐙚

It began as a simple task, you know. Helping out more around the house.

Which also included becoming a personal chauffeur and suffering through many hours of shopping, making sure you were okay. Because they would do anything for their mom.

You arrived back at the Manor after the long and intensive grocery shopping. You parked the car inside the garage next to your husband's vast collection of cars he liked to collect. You open the trunk, glancing at the number of grocery bags there are.

Jason heard the garage opening being so close to check to see if his mother was home. On the walk to the garage, the first person he saw was Tim, and like any normal circumstance, he dragged him to the garage without any warning.

"Damn it, Jason, a little warning next time", Tim shouted out before harshly yanking his arm out of Jason's grip.

Both Jason and Tim walked out of the garage towards their mother. "Here, Ma, we'll help you.",

Jason smiled at you before gently grabbing the bags from your hand, and Tim, who took more bags from the car.

"Oh umm...thanks", honestly in that moment you didn't know how to react. I mean, your kids were usually busy saving the world or with their own lives, but you were thanktul nonetheless.

𐙚

"gosh, my feet are killing me", you groaned quietly to yourself before sitting down and rubbing your feet. "I should probably do some stretches in the morning", You coaxed on the idea. "Ugh I'm too lazy for that", You whined in the throw pillow next to you.

Dick came down from his room, it was as if he had some supersonic senses whenever you were in assistance of help. Also, he had decided to stay in the manor for an extra couple of weeks and then return to the Teen Titans.

"Here Mom, I will massage it for you", Dick grinned, making your heart melt, at the thoughtfulness of your son.

"Thank you baby, but you don’t have to do that", you assured Dick, not wanting to take so much time out of his busy schedule. But all those thoughts quickly melt away when Dick started massaging your feet…you were in paradise.

As quickly as Bruce entered, his mouth was agape at the sight before him. His son massaging his wife's feet free…what is he playing at?

"Son, why don’t you-"

Bruce began but was quickly shut down by Dick's interruption. "Dad, I am fine", Dick finished with a glare at his father. Bruce watched his wife be completely oblivious to this interaction. What can you do? Bruce sighed before leaving somewhere…anywhere but there.

𐙚

Alfred was already a big help around the manor. There was really no difference except...

As usual, everyone had dinner together as a family, you set the rule so everyone can talk about their day and get some quality time together.

"This was delicious, Alfred, thank you," You happily exclaimed to Alfred beside you. He made your favorite food.

"You're welcome, Missus Wayne", he politely said as always, refusing to call you by your first name. No matter how much you tried to convince him, these were the times he would refuse.

You had persuaded Alfred to eat with you all, because Alfred was family, no doubt about it. Although it took a long time to convince him to eat with you, because of his constant refusal. But you were not going to take no for an answer this time.

You saw Alfred getting up, so you as well stood up from your seat, hoping to return the favor.

"No Missus Wayne, there is no need to perform such duties", Alfred assured you. But you didn't listen and continued to pick up the dishes and help clean the table.

The kids could not watch you and Alfred do it all by yourselves. "Alfred where do you want these dishes", Jason asked seeing Alfred point in that direction. It became some kind of a family bonding.

Dick and Jason washed and dried the dishes, Tim was moping, Damian decided to you clean the table, and Bruce even helped sweep around.

𐙚

Finally, it was just you, I mean, can you blame yourself, your kids had become a whole new level of weird and protective.

The wonderful movie of Cinderella, you have absolutely adored the movie ever since you were a little girl, hoping to become a princess. You sighed as your favorite part came into the scene. "Gosh, so beautiful", you breathed as Cinderella twirled around and forged a magnificent dress that you only dream of wearing,

Nothing can ruin the moment; you can hardly take your eyes off the screen.

"Hello, ummie."

"Holy fuc-", you let a scream of terror, putting a hand on your chest to regulate your breathing. "Damian, what...what are you doing here?" you asked in between breaths, "we need to put a bell on you", you muttered, groaning slightly.

"I'm here to give you company", Damian flashed his teeth, sitting next to you on the couch.

"Oh baby, I um...you don't have to do that", you assured Damian, hoping he would give you some much-needed alone time. You tried to go back to your movie, already missing some scenes, but the piercing gaze watched, calculating your every moment. You found it impossible to pay attention.

"Ummie, would you ever replace me?" Damian whispered. It hurt even more when he whipped his head around, closing his eyes, afraid of seeing your reaction.

You were speechless to think that one of your kids could ever think about getting replaced. You gently grasp Damian's chin, turning it towards you. You can see the pain in his eyes, the same eyes that tried to mask that pain with fierceness.

Why would you ever think that, baby?" you sobbed, holding his hand while trying to keep the tears at bay. But nothing could ever prepare you for this moment. You grasp his body, crushing him towards you, you want to bury him in your chest, to comfort him and you.

"Why do you love me?... I am the offspring of my father and my other mother", he muttered, the pain of hiding the secret longed to leave his body, but the fear of being true weighed more. He couldn't hold it anymore and let the tears fall, sobbing uncontrollably; it was finally the breaking point. The point where he tried to hide it so hard and be the warrior that was expected of Talia.

"Dami, I have loved you since I first met, and nothing will change that", you tried to stop crying but you couldn't because of the pain he felt, he has been living with and holding the burden of not feeling loved. You held more tightly, the movie left forgotten in the night.

Despite your legs and back pain, you carried Damian gently through the Manor, stopping by your boy's room, the feeling of pain and defeat, wondering do any of your kids feel this way as well.

You joined Damian in bed, not wanting to leave him after the heartache you went through. You couldn't let down your children, not again.

𐙚

In the morning, you walked towards Bruce with a mission; you were determined to talk to him no matter his busy schedule.

"Come in".

Bruce was on the side of the room next to your vanity, in front of him a long mirror showcasing his body, as he tied his tie. Bruce saw through the mirror your anger radiating through the room, the tie forgotten as he went to you.

"Bruce, we need to talk, now." Your voice reaches its peak of authority, demanding his attention.

Bruce grasped your hand, hoping to comfort you when you needed it. "Honey, what-", you sobbed out, interrupting him before pulling your hand away, hoping to hide your face from the shame and misery you had encountered yesterday.

Long, warm arms embrace your figure, drawing you away from the floor and onto the bed. Bruce rubbed your back up and down, hoping to ease your sobbing. "Honey, what happened?" One thing Bruce had learned after being married to you was that he had to be patient.

Patiency was key between you too. He waited till your cries calmed down, only comforting you with physical touch, no words.

"Damian felt like he was replaceable", you broke out after gathering your emotions together.

You held Bruce's hand, clenching his hand as tightly as possible, waiting for his reaction. You could feel your tears running down your face slowing, wiping them away before they could drop.

"I never knew he felt like that", Bruce spoke out in disbelief, his son had felt like for god-knows how long. What kind of father was he?

You both sat silently, knowing the outcome of this situation. Although neither of you spoke, it was almost like a bond was going through you both. You both knew you had to spend more time with the children and understand them. No matter what, they had to be there as parents.

You felt your legs carry you to the bathroom, crouching down towards the toilet. Your face was stained with tears as you vomited, trying to surpass these feelings.

Bruce followed you before crouching with you as he held your hair out of your face. His face was etched with worry, hoping nothing serious was happening. You stopped vomiting, and the sound of the toilet being flushed made its way into the bathroom as you grabbed your toothbrush and started brushing.

Bruce looked under the cabinet hoping to find something to help, his eyes suddenly landed on a pack of tests. Pregnancy tests.

Bruce took out the box, inspecting it, before looking at you. He couldn't help but wonder about the signs he had missed. The vomiting, for one, is emotional, and the cravings.

You could feel Bruce's stare from a mile away, fearing the box he had in his hand did not instigate those stares. "Baby, you don't think...do you?", You were hesitant and all those whirlwind of emotions were coming back.

Bruce took your hand grasping it, assuring you. "Hey just try okay. no harm right", Bruce whispered in your ear before taking your body close to him in an embrace easing the tension.

You only nodded, the words failing to come out. You quickly grab a test before making a beeline for the bathroom. You were anxious, your hands were sweaty, and your nerves were building up as you anxiously waited for the timer to go off.

Bruce held you as much as you would allow him, trying not to show any doubt in his face in fearing of disappointing you. The timer felt slow, a pace so small, 30 seconds left but it felt like the longest 30 seconds of your existence.

Ding

Moment of truth, were you pregnant? As you flip over the test, the breath you were holding left upon seeing positive. Positive.

"I am pregnant," you cried out, happy tears, sinking to the floor and feeling Bruce try to hold you up. The tears were running wild on your face, as you held the test to your heart.

Bruce could not believe he was going to be a father again. Bruce could not stop his tears from flowing as he smiled so happily, his mouth starting to hurt.

"Oh, baby, we have to tell everyone, you were gasping between breaths at the thought of everyone's reactions, especially Damian. Would this make him angrier? More unloved? If you told the news to everyone.

As much as you wanted to question your decision more, Bruce was already calling out to his kids for a family meeting.

Your arms were crossed to your chest as you whipped your head back in forth, annoyed that Bruce couldn't have at least waited 5 minutes. The only reaction he gave upon seeing the annoyed look was a scratch on his neck before dashing out of the room, like a child.

" A Child", you mumbled to yourself, hearing Bruce laugh from the hallway.

𐙚

All the kids sat in the living room, anxiously waiting why their father to call a family meeting. Which of the kids screw up, who would take the blame, and who would get grounded.

"Alright Jason, you might as well confess", Dick accused Jason. He roughly shoved Jason's shoulder, knocking him off the couch.

In crazy hand gestures, "Why do I always get blamed?!!" Jason yelled out in anger, believing he was being targeted by his brothers again.

"What do you mean...you cause the most trouble?" Tim nodded his head at Jason, knowing it was a fact that Jason caused the most fights and stress for his parents.

"Well...Well, demon-spawn has been silent this whole time, who to say he did not cause this mess-", Jason pointed his finger at Damian hoping to divert the attention away from him.

Damian barely acknowledges him, the silence weighing on the situation at hand. The boys were concerned to stay the least, it was unusual for Damian to be so quiet, but for him to show this rare emotion of sadness, it was strange...

Before the boys could ask any questions regarding Damian's state, their parents walked.

"The fuck-", Jason spoke out letting out a audible gasp at the sight. His father was...smiling. "Yeah, Dad, hate to break to you, but you look really creepy with your smile, so please stop", Jason demanded, covering his face with his hand. It was a sight to see for sure.

The kids were all shocked to see their parents all smiley and happy.

"Could have sworn someone was going to get in trouble", Tim pointed out with his arm crossing over his chest.

Bruce put his hand out in front of him, silencing the kids.

"We have some news", You smiled practically bouncing on your toes. You couldn't wait to see their reactions, You wanted all the kids to be comfortable with this change, especially Damian after the conversation from last night. It was still replaying like a broken CD.

"I AM PREGNANT!!!"

You looked at the kids seeing some mixed reactions. Jason's face was neutral not a single emotion you could hinder on his face. Dick grinned joyfully at the news clapping his hand excitedly. Tim smiled but the look behind his eyes portrayed many emotions including happiness. Damian was the last face you saw, not because he was the youngest or how he sat farther away from everyone else. No, you were petrified of the emotions displaced on his face.

Damian flashed a quick smile before rushing up from the couch, standing, racing towards you in a bone-crushing hug. You wrapped your arms tightly around your youngest, never wanting to leave this fleeting moment. The sight of Damian's tears running freely down his face stung your heart, letting out a quiet sob.

You felt many pairs of arms around you, and Damian, the arms of your kids and your husband, like a protective embrace, blocking out the evils that dare to impair you.

But the moment was quickly interrupted, "Ma, I...no we have to tell you something", Jason nervously wiped his hand on his pants hoping to get rid of the sweat that was building on.

Dick felt a pair of eyes on him, he looked around the room and behind the wall was none of them...Alfred. Alfred looked him dead in the eye, signaling him to confess the secret. Dick looked back at you, pretending he didn't just see Alfred side-eye him.

"Mom we-", Dick began but quickly stopped looking for some help.

"Ummi-, Damian began to speak before...

"Mom, um, we've known for a long time now...," Tim finished telling the secret to his brother. Can't count on his brothers to spill the secret to their mother, so you have to do it yourself.

"What..how?!", you exclaimed loudly, tearing your arms out of Bruce's embrace. How could the kids have known before you? Is that why they've been acting differently?

Bruce struggled to comprehend the boy's secret. How could they have known before him? He is the best detective, and he couldn't even tell his wife was pregnant before his own kids.

"The fuck", Bruce spoke out, finally having some kind of reaction and then staring at his kids with all these mixed reactions. It was the first time you had seen Bruce portray so many emotions.

"Master Bruce, please mind your language," Alfred said, coming out from behind the walls like nothing had happened and continuing to dust the manor.

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xhyjin · 5 months ago

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next door neighbour dilftoji! who, ever since his late wife died shortly after the birth of their only son, megumi, had fallen into bad habits of gambling, drinking, and smoking. he was anything but a good or present father, leaving his son on the front steps of the zen’in clan headquarters. as much as he pretended he wasn’t grieving, he was, and everyone could easily tell. it wasn’t until one day, when he saw his late wife in a dream, telling him to get her son back—to be a father, the man she once knew—that he instantly sobers up and takes his son back from the hands of the clan.

next door neighbour dilftoji! who decided that if he wanted to start anew, he would have to change his surroundings. everything around him reminded him of his late wife, and as much as he loved her, she was holding him back. he spoke to his friend and former handler, shiu kong, about neighborhoods that would be good for a peculiar child like megumi and a place where he could start fresh with no reminders of the past. shiu recommended his own neighborhood—where you just so happened to live.

next door neighbour dilftoji! he moved into your quiet neighborhood with anything but quiet. his voice—loud and commanding—echoed as he yelled at the movers to handle fragile items with more care, all while keeping his son from darting in front of them. it was 7 in the morning when you first heard the noise: his voice, the trucks backing in, the hustle of the move. without even meeting him, you already found yourself annoyed.

you stumbled out of your house, robe loosely hanging around you and your hair a mess from a restless morning disturbed by the commotion. standing on your front steps, you watched the chaos unfold next door, trying to spot the source of that deep, gruff voice. as soon as your eyes landed on him, he locked eyes with you. you shook your head, muttering under your breath, and turned to walk back inside.

next door neighbour dilftoji! after a few hours of getting everything safely into his house, toji decided he would make a good first impression with his new neighbors. he was starting a new life, so even if baking cookies and bringing them to a neighbor was something he’d never normally do, it didn’t matter—because that toji was gone. this was the new toji, a man willing to take risks and leave behind regret.

he had already forgotten your brief moment of eye contact that morning, so when you opened your front door mid-phone call, you weren’t expecting to find him and his son standing there with a box of cookies. the smell was unmistakably fresh, lingering sweetly in the air.

“hi,” toji said, attempting a polite smile that contrasted sharply with his scarred lip and imposing, muscular frame. “my name’s toji fushiguro. this is my son, megumi. we just moved in next door and wanted to introduce ourselves.”

you stared at him in silence for a moment, stunned. you hadn’t expected your loud, irritating neighbor to look so… handsome. and muscular. you’d barely seen him earlier that morning.

“i’m going to have to call you back,” you said, lowering your phone. finally, you replied, “uh, it’s nice to meet you. i’m y/n.” your eyes fell to the box in his hands. “is that for me?”

“oh, yeah,” he replied, glancing briefly at megumi before handing the box to you. “me and megumi baked cookies for you.”

next door neighbour dilftoji! who ever since his brief interaction with you, toji found himself growing more curious about you as each day passed. he noticed you had a job, seeing you leave early in the morning while he was helping megumi into the car for school, and return later in the evening when he sat on the porch, watching megumi play with the neighbourhood kids, yuji and nobara.

next door neighbour dilftoji! who runs into you at the grocery store. megumi sat quietly in the cart while toji stood in the produce aisle, holding a bunch of bananas in one hand and strawberries in the other, debating which to buy. he didn’t even notice you until you cleared your throat.

“hi, toji,” you said shyly, giving him a small smile.

“hi, y/n,” he replied, surprised but glad to see you.

“tough choice?” you teased, glancing at the fruit in his hands.

“yeah,” he admitted with a small chuckle.

“i’d go with bananas. if they go bad, you can always make banana bread,” you suggested, making him laugh.

“good thinking,” he said, placing the bananas in the cart with megumi. from that moment, the rest of the grocery errand turned into something unexpected. the two of you wandered the aisles together, chatting and getting to know more about each other. toji found himself smiling more than he had in a long time, and by the time you both reached checkout, he realized he wouldn’t mind running into you like this more often.

next door neighbour dilftoji! who feels so bad when he has to ask you to babysit megumi on your one day off from work. something unexpected had come up, and he needed to return to the city but couldn’t leave megumi alone. knocking on your door, he stood there with megumi beside him.

when you opened the door, you didn’t expect to see him. “toji, hi,” you said, glancing between him and megumi. “what’s going on?”

“y/n, i’m so sorry. i know this is your day off, but something came up, and i need to get back to the city. i couldn’t find a babysitter last minute. could you please watch megumi? i promise he’s a good kid—no trouble at all,” he said, his tone almost pleading.

“yeah, sure,” you replied without hesitation, opening the door wider for them to step inside.

“i’ll be back early morning,” toji assured you. you nodded. “do you want my phone number?” his expression shifted, almost surprised. “yeah, that’s a good idea,” he said, handing you his phone.before leaving, toji crouched to megumi’s level. “don’t misbehave, alright? i’ll be back for you.” after giving megumi a quick pat on the head and thanking you again, he headed out the door.

next door neighbour dilftoji! who kept true to his word and returned early the next morning, flowers in hand. when you opened the door, still half-asleep, you greeted him with a tired, “hi, toji,” rubbing your eye with one hand.

“hey there, doll,” he said, the nickname slipping out before he quickly cleared his throat. “uh, can i come in?”

you didn’t seem to notice the slip-up and stepped aside to let him in. “megumi’s still sleeping,” you said, your gaze finally landing on the bouquet in his hand. “are those for me?”

he smiled, nodding as he handed you the flowers. “yeah, to thank you for being there for me.”

you took them, a soft blush creeping onto your cheeks. “they’re beautiful,” you murmured, leaning in to smell them.

“i didn’t know which were your favorite,” he admitted, “so i picked the ones i thought were the most beautiful… almost as beautiful as you.”

you froze for a moment, cheeks heating up further as you glanced down at yourself—disheveled hair, wrinkled pajamas, and all. “beautiful? me?”

“yes, beautiful,” he said with a chuckle.

“hope the kid wasn’t too much trouble,” he added, changing the subject.

“no, he’s a good kid—very sweet and polite,” you assured him, toji nodding in agreement.

he hesitated for a moment before speaking. “listen, y/n, i’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

“yeah?” you asked, placing the flowers down and filling a vase with water.

“i want to properly thank you for this. do you maybe want to go on a date?”

you looked up at him, wide-eyed. “a date?”

“yeah, i mean… if you want to,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically nervous.

your lips curved into a small smile. “i’d love to, toji.”

his face lit up. “great. are you free thursday?”

you nodded, and his grin grew wider. “a date on thursday with the most beautiful girl in the world,” he said, making your heart flutter.

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wickedghxst · 2 years ago

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i wouldn’t even want it bc the less i have to see of jason or damian the better, but it’s absolutely insane that they haven’t utilized cass for a story with either of them.

#mostly bc they hate women. but how do you have two characters desperate for their father’s attention/approval Not come to clash with -#the “perfect’’ daughter. J seeing her as a replacement that’s better than he ever was. d desperate to prove that he “deserves’’ it more #it’s Easy set up for a conflict. but nobody has done it yet??? i know why. we already stated rhey hate her.#but like. come the fuck on. her being an impossible standard to live up to. being somebody bruce trusts more than either of them. it’s easy.#brothers and sisters trying to kill eachother is a tale as old as time. but instead they always just target tim instead.#honestly it might be hard to pull of though. dad & big brother scolding them constantly might get old real quick.#especially since neither of them could ever even make her break a sweat in a fight. nor do i imagine she’d even Want to fight them.#besides. the whole “trying to save the bastard sons’’ plotline with this family gets old kinda fast. but whatever.#i still think Some interaction would be better than none if those two Have to stick around.#& she’s certainly make for a more interesting target of hate for j & d than the “normal kid who showed up one day.’’#gets boring watching tim get his ass kicked all the time.

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saetoru · 2 years ago

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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ speak of the devil

synopsis. satoru and his father don’t quite get along—you don’t think it would help that case if his father walked in on you fucking on his desk right now, but satoru doesn’t seem to care at all

FIVE PLACES RB! GOJO SHOULDN’T FUCK YOU SERIES

length. 3.4k words (why did it take all day sobs)

contents. fem! reader, minors do not interact, college au, rich boy! gojo, as always it’s shameless satoru, you sit on satoru’s lap, brief fingering, dry humping, desk sex <3, clothed sex, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess, perfect girl)

notes. to everyone who kept asking when i was gonna update this series: here it is. now don’t ask again <3

the one time you decide to surprise satoru with a visit is the one time he’s nowhere to be found—it takes you ten minutes and the help of two maids to finally find satoru in his house. as it turns out, he’s in his father’s office—the only room you’ve never been in yet.

“hey,” you murmur, “been looking for you everywhere. way to ruin my surprise.”

“baby!” he grins, perking up from his spot at the chair, setting the pen in his hand down. “you came all the way here to surprise me? you must love me so much. and think i’m hot too, right? and funny? and smart? and—”

“i’m leaving,” you tease, rolling your eyes. and then you notice the papers in front of him, peeking over his shoulder as you read over them. you understand nothing. “what’s this?”

“paperwork,” he grumbles, “old man says i have to start being more responsible for stuff if i’m gonna take over someday. what a geezer.”

you snort—satoru never runs out of insults for his father. normally, you wouldn’t encourage his comments, but….well, his father deserves them. quite a bit, in fact.

“my poor businessman,” you say sympathetically, smoothing back hair from his forehead as you cup his face. he pouts, leaning into your touch as you rub over the swell of his cheek with your thumb. “you deserve a break.”

“i know,” he whines, “i’ve been doing these for like an hour. i could’ve been playing video games with suguru. or fucking you.”

“satoru!” you gasp, pressing a hand over his lips as you eye the door and listen for any signs of anyone nearby. you turn to him and hiss, “you have too many people wandering your house for you to say that so loud.”

“not like they’ve never heard us before,” he shrugs.

well, that’s satoru for you—as shameless as ever. not only has he probably traumatized the poor maids with his insatiable horniness, but he’s not even got the tact to at least seem embarrassed. not even slightly ashamed. you scoff, shaking your head as he grins up at you cheekily.

“you’re a real case, you know that?” you say in disbelief, “i think the only surface you haven’t fucked me on is your parent’s bed. and that’s only because you love your mom enough not to do that.”

“if it was just the old man’s, i’d have fucked you on that too,” he snickers. and then he hums thoughtfully, “actually, i think i have fucked you everywhere. it’s like a bucket list.”

“satoru, you’re sick in the head.”

“the showers, the guest rooms, the kitchen, the living room, the movie room, my room, of course—oh, the game room too. and we can’t forget the backyard and the pool either. i think we got it all—wait.”

he sounds serious. you look at him with furrowed brows as you tilt your head. “what?”

“we didn’t get this room.”

oh god. he’s absolutely ridiculous—and not only that but a complete idiot, too. not only do satoru and his father not get along, but his father couldn’t disapprove of you any more than he already does. the last thing you both need is for him to walk in on his son fucking the girl he probably wants to hire a hitman to assassinate.

“oh my god,” you say exasperatedly, “toru, have you not one ounce of shame? you can’t possibly think—”

“why didn’t i think of this sooner?” he wonders out loud—and oh no. satoru has that look in his eyes, the one that’s locked in on something he wants. the spoiled side of him isn’t going to let this go. the weak part of you is probably going to have a hard time fighting him.

the unwise part of both of you will probably get you both into a whole lot of trouble.

“because it’s a bad idea. you’re a smart guy, toru,” you try to butter him up—it doesn’t seem to do much, though. “the smartest. so, so genius and intelligent, so you know this is a terrible idea, so let’s just drop it—”

“i should’ve done this way sooner,” he chuckles, looking at you in awe, “bend you right over this desk and fuck you over that fossil’s papers.”

his words are so shameless and so, so wrong. but for some odd reason, your clit aches a little at that.

“no, absolutely not—”

“can you imagine? he’s signing papers right where i had you drooling for me? he’d be so mad if he knew,” satoru cackles.

god—this should not be as appealing as it sounds. you try to throw on your best stern look, but satoru is as smart as he is sly. he can see the way you shift on your feet as he smirks up at you, and he’s already got that determined look in his eye that you know well enough.

it’s the same look he has when he decides he’s hungry—for you, that is. the same look that paints his face as he eyes you like you’re his next meal. the same look that tells you he wants you—and he’ll stop at nothing to have you.

and….well, you’ve never been good at saying no to satoru. it’s your fatal flaw.

“satoru, we should definitely not be doing any of that in here, and we definitely should not be risking making your dad—who hates that we’re dating, by the way—any more angry with us than he already is—”

“sweetheart,” he chuckles, pulling you by the wrist to fall onto his lap, “you worry too much, y’know that? i should fix that. fuck you dumb over this desk so you don’t overthink in that pretty little head you have.”

you glare at him, but he’s already got you straddling his hips, arms looped around your waist as he kisses your jaw with a hum. he’s already hard from what you can feel—the bulge pressing against your heat is hard to miss.

“satoru—”

“save the part where you say my name for later. i haven’t even done anything yet,” he winks—and then he’s kissing you. he’s clever, you think, because kissing you is the fastest way to get you to melt against him, arms wrapping around his neck as he pulls you closer.

so close, in fact, that you can feel his cock practically twitch in his pants as you shift on top of him, dragging your clothed cunt over his aching bulge.

“this is such a bad idea, toru,” you whisper in between kisses—but not one part of you fights his touch or even attempts to pull away. he hums, pressing wet kisses along your jaw as his hands dig into your hips, moving you to grind along his hardened length.

“yeah? you sure? let’s check, shall we?” he raises a brow, hand slipping past the waistband of your pants and brushing past your folds—wet. dripping and messy and needy, just how your pussy always seems to be when you’re with him. he grins in satisfaction and throws you that knowing look as he mumbles, “sorry, baby. this pretty little pussy of yours disagrees.”

“toru,” you gasp as he toys with your clit, rubbing slow enough circles that you whine and roll your hips, trying to get more. but satoru is a brat—always has been, right from the day he was born. he pulls his fingers away and looks at you smugly as he kisses your curled lips while you frown at him.

“want more, don’t ya?” he asks—he’s too cocky for his own good sometimes. too ridiculous and annoying and troublesome, but you’re aching to feel something, anything. preferably him, so you nod.

“just hurry up,” you huff. your hips push against him, dragging your cunt over his cock—it’s throbbing in his pants, confined under the fabric and needy for the tightness of your walls. you gasp when he rubs against your clit, and he groans, guiding your movements with a tight grip on your hips.

“fuck, sweetheart,” he rasps, “c-could cum jus’ like this. see what you do to me?”

“‘s not me,” you tilt your head as he nips at your neck, hand trailing to cup the back of his head and keep him in place as he nibbles at the skin and pecks along the marks he leaves, “this is all your fault.”

“all my fault, huh?” he chuckles, “you make it sound like this is a bad thing.”

his hips buck up, rolling against yours and building the friction up until your both panting messes, his lips against yours as you drink in each other’s moans—your clit rubs along his length with every stutter of your hips, and his tip leaks with more pre cum every time you press harder against his cock. it’s desperate—the way he chokes on your name and the way you cling around his neck. it feels good, and the way this is all so wrong only makes it feel better.

“‘m close, toru,” you mewl, whining as his hand slides under your shirt to massage your tit, his eyes trained on you as he hums.

“good,” he grins, eyes dark and glinting with a sick satisfaction you don’t think you’ve ever seen on him before, “cum for me, sweetheart. right here—right on this chair,” he says lowly.

so you do—head falling back with a sharp gasp and your nails digging into his shoulder as you come undone with a loud whine. the gojo estate is big—very big. you’re sure your voice isn’t carrying through even a fraction of the place, but still, you can’t help but clamp a hand over your mouth in case anyone is nearby.

satoru doesn’t like that, though—his hand rips yours off as he ruts his hips upwards faster, harder, pressing against you closer. “no, baby,” he chuckles, cutting himself off with a breathy moan when you press harder against his cock, “make sure you let me hear how good you feel. feels good, huh?”

“yes,” you whimper, “yes, feels so good—need more, toru. please,” you pout, looking up at him with lust-blown eyes.

“here?” he mocks, raising a brow, “you want me to fuck you right here? in my father’s office? where he does his work? right on his desk?”

“yes, here,” you sob, “right here—please. want you so bad. need it.”

“see?” he laughs, “now you’re getting it—not so much of a bad idea, is it?”

that’s the thing about satoru—he’s too used to hearing what he wants. being told what he likes to hear. getting what he asks for. you say no, and he’s determined to change it to a yes. but yes is never enough—it’s more. always more, more, more. it’s like all rich people, you suppose.

they just always want more.

there’s a small, reasonable voice in your head that tells you this is a bad idea. a disrespectful one, even. sure, satoru’s father has never been kind to you, let alone polite. he looks at you like you’re an eyesore, and he’s certainly said less than appropriate things about your upbringing. but that doesn’t mean you have to stoop to his level of low and do something equally as spiteful, if not more…but you’re only human. and satoru always just fucks you so well, and cumming around nothing just isn’t enough, and…well, you think it’s just karma.

the way the world works.

the way you and satoru work.

so you grin, huff out a little snort before pulling him into a kiss and reaching to free his hard, leaky cock from its confinements. he whines a little into your mouth as you smear the arousal coating his tip along his length, stroking down and squeezing at the base.

“okay,” you whisper against his lips, “fuck me toru. right here—right on his desk.”

that, evidently, is all it takes—one second you’re comfortably sitting on his legs, pants soaked with his bulge pressed against your core, and the next second you hear his hand swipe papers off the surface to fall to the floor as your back is pressed against the cool wood. he doesn’t even bother with your clothes, just tugs both of your pants down your thighs that it’s enough. satoru has always been impatient too—doesn’t like to wait for anything when he can take it when he wants.

you can feel him close, hovering over you. he’s warm—where his cock presses against your thigh, where his breath fans over your lips, where his hands grab your wrists and pin them over your head. he’s warm, and your head spins, and you need him filling you to the brim right now.

“anything you want, you get, sweetheart,” he murmurs, grinning sickeningly sweet, “can’t say no to my baby. what kind of boyfriend would i be?” you feel him bump his tip against your clit, making you gasp before he drags the head of his cock along your folds—they’re wet and slick from your arousal, coating his tip before he’s slowly pushing in. you gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck as he groans lowly. “can never get used to this,” he breathes, “never get used to this pussy. just takes me so well. fit in like i was made just to fuck you.”

“toru, t-toru—oh,” you squeal when he slides the rest of his length to fill you, buried to the hilt as your walls flutter around him. it’s nothing new, but it’s never something you’re prepared for all the same. how thick he is, how perfectly he hits that spot in the back of your walls, how full he makes you feel. it makes your legs wrap around his waist and pull him forward, closer, deeper. “more, toru—move, please.”

“nuh uh,” he drawls, kissing your cheeks, “first you gotta tell me how much you love me.”

“satoru,” you hiss in disbelief, “are you kidding—”

“c’mon, say it,” he giggles, “love you, toru. love how you fuck me so good everywhere in your house and make me feel like a princess. you’re the best boyfriend ever and i’ll die without your cock—”

“i love you toru,” you smile sweetly, “you know what i love more, though? when you’re too busy making pretty sounds for me instead of talking so much.”

that makes him shudder—makes him curse under his breath as your walls flutter impatiently around him. he’s aching—hot and swollen in your dripping cunt, balls heavy with cum that he needs to empty into your pussy because it was made to take him. every inch of him.

“you’re gonna be the death of me,” he breathes out shakily, “know that? gonna kill me one of these days.”

“good,” you hum before rolling your hips and making his breath hitch, “now move, baby. wanna feel you.”

he does—pulls his hips back so that he’s just almost pulled out completely before he slams back into you, pressing against your sweet spot with his tip in the way only satoru knows how. only he knows you this well, only he knows your body so well. he knows where to kiss and hold and touch to make your eyes flutter shut, and your mouth fall open, wanton moans falling past your lips without a care in the world who can hear.

“so tight, baby,” he whines, “god you’re so perfect—my perfect girl.”

“so full,” you gasp, clawing at his shoulders, pulling at his hair, pulling him closer and closer and closer until not even air can fill the space between you. “feel so good, toru—fuck.”

“look at you,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your collarbone, “‘s a shame you can’t see what i see. then you’d know why i can’t keep my hands off’a you—’s impossible.”

you can’t speak—all you can offer him as he’s bullying his thick girth into you is a pathetic whine as his veins drag along your walls, as his navel bumps along your clit and has your head thrown back against the table. there’s slick smeared along your inner thigh, the wet sound of his cock fucking into you ringing in your ears along with his deep groans as he pants harshly against your ear. you can feel his breath against your skin, can feel the goosebumps and the flutter of your walls every time he makes a pretty little sound for you as you squeeze around him.

“love you, toru,” you mewl—you can’t help but say it, can’t help but remind him when he pushes into you like he was always meant to fit right there, like he was always meant to feel you as you feel him too. and if his rotten, greedy, stuck-up father with a receding hairline can’t see that you love satoru, maybe you’ll just have to fuck him right where he can find you just to drill the image into his mind.

“love you too,” he says between moans, face digging into your neck as your hand cradles the back of his head, keeping him right there, keeping him close against you like he should never be anywhere else, “love my perfect, perfect girl. feel me? feel what you do to me?”

you nod between sharp gasps and soft cries of his name—he looks down at you in wonder, at the way your lips look when they murmur that sweet little cry of toru!, at the way your pussy sucks him in and hugs too tightly around him, at the way you look so good with the slight sheen of sweat on your face.

his hips roll, a little sloppy in rhythm now, but still just as hard and deep as before. he can sense it—the way you’re just about to fall apart on his cock, just like you always do. so he presses a thumb to your clit, rubbing harsh circles that make you cling to him tighter as you cry out another sweet string of toru, toru—more!

“you close, sweetheart? gonna cum for me? ‘m close—gonna fill you up. want that, don’t you?”

“yeah,” you breathe, kissing him with hot, open-mouthed kisses that he returns, “yeah i wan’ you to fill me up, toru—gonna cum. ‘m so close—f-fuck, so close, baby.”

you know he is too, the way his cock twitches and the way his hips are desperate in the way they roll into you tells you he’s just as close to falling apart as you are. you push your hips up to meet his thrusts, pushing him impossibly deeper into your cunt before you feel the coil snap as you cum—hard. your walls flutter around him, spasming and squeezing around him that his bottom lip is tugged between his teeth as he inhales sharply.

“f-fuck, baby—’m gonna…” he doesn’t get to finish before you feel his cock twitch and the first drop of cum fills you. it’s hot and thick, every rope he fucks into you, leaking past his tip and painting your walls white. you can feel the mess he makes—can feel the drops leak and smear along your inner thighs as he slams into you with choked whines of your name. “g-good—’s so good, you feel so good,” he says breathlessly, face digging deeper into the crook of your neck as his arms tremble over you.

the wood is hard against you, makes your back ache slightly—but it’s not nearly as bad as satoru is good. you can’t think of anything else but the way he fucks you both through your highs until your legs are begging to press shut from the oversensitivity.

it’s silent for a bit once you’ve finished—save for the harsh, labored panting as you both calm down and catch your breaths. satoru is still buried with his nose pressed against your neck, your hand rubbing over his back slowly.

“your maids must hate us,” you mumble, “and if your mother hears? we can never show her our faces again.”

“she’s probably dead to the world and watching her reality shows,” he snorts, “we’ll be fine.”

“well, we should clean up and leave before your dad—”

“oh look, speak of the devil. he’s just in time,” satoru snickers as he cuts you off, looking over at the window as an expensive car drives up to the house, “think we can get these papers organized before he comes up here? maybe we should just leave ‘em to make him mad.”

“you’re crazy,” you say in disbelief. and then— “i think we should leave them there. make them his problem.”

you think you’ve just watched satoru fall in love with you all over again at that.

i hate this fic but hopefully i come back one week later and reread it and think wow i ate w this. sometimes i do that. but if i don’t: if all of you donate one dollar to my family they can afford my funeral for when i drink bleach

#teepods.writings #fics.#thirstee!#rich boy! au #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you

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melwnst · 2 months ago

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────── ⋆⋅☆ DAD!DEAN HEADCANONS

⭑.ᐟso.. Dean as a dad? Wanted to post something cute before I start my new job tomorrow in case I can’t post as much this week🤭 please interact and send requests if u have any<3

supernatural masterlist /full masterlist

──────────୨ৎ──────────

⭑.ᐟ dean’s never valued sleep much until he became a dad. The nightmares aren’t gone-not really. But now he actually enjoys sleeping. The nightmares don’t matter so much knowing what he’ll wake up to. Joy, happiness, safety and love. So much of it.

⭑.ᐟhe’s never craved your touch as much as he does now. He doesn’t know why- or when the switch happened exactly but seeing you as a mom is the hottest thing he’s ever witnessed. The way you’re with the baby, the way you’re with him. You’re more grounded, happier, you actually glow and he’s obsessed. He won’t go one day without touching you in some type of way, sexually or not. He just needs to touch you.

⭑.ᐟuntil you came along, but mostly since the little one’s arrived, Dean didn’t think he deserved happiness, or safety. He thought he’d never get away from that life that reeked of danger, old motel rooms, or even the bunker. But now? He cherishes it with everything he has. He’s never been more grateful, and now he knows he actually deserves it. He knows he got out and he’ll never step a foot back in it because he has two people to protect now.

⭑.ᐟhe’s worried 24/7 though. Whenever the baby cries, which thankfully isn’t that much because it’s a great baby- he worries. Every cry, every whimper or sound that doesn’t feel right- he’s right by the baby’s side, examining it. You tell him to stop worrying so much. You tell him that your baby will be okay because it has him to protect both you and him/her.

⭑.ᐟhe starts chilling a bit more as your kid grows older. And oh my god your genes didn’t even try. It’s just Dean. The way he/she talks, walks, the music taste, movie taste. It’s all him. You’re okay with that though, because you couldn’t love Dean more- and now you basically have another one.

⭑.ᐟI think he’s such a girl dad. He obviously would LOVE a son, but a daughter? Yeah he’s so incredible. He’s even more protective with her, and he worries too much, but he knows she’ll be alright because she has both you and him.

⭑.ᐟfor you, dean’s never been hotter. The way he holds himself now, the way he smiles- genuinely and not like he feels that he has to. The way his laugh sounds even better now, because he actually does enjoy laughing now, he doesn’t have any of that weight holding him down anymore. He’s free, lighter, happier.

⭑.ᐟhe fully cries sometimes because he can’t believe how lucky he is. You could be feeding the baby breakfast and he’d have a full mental breakdown over it because he’s just so happy and he can’t believe any of it is real. Like it’s a dream he’s gonna wake up from and he’ll be back in the bunker chasing demons and shadows.

⭑.ᐟhe loves late night stories, where you both lay in bed with your kid,taking turns telling the story to him/her. It’s fun, and you’re all together, silence surrounds you, it’s freeing, and it’s just so beautiful.

⭑.ᐟhe swears he didn’t know he had so much love in him. The way he loves you- the way he loves this kid- his heart could burst it’s so crazy to him. Like his heart is full of love and he never thought that’d be possible.

⭑.ᐟhe doesn’t mind being vulnerable anymore. When he needs to talk, to say something, to let everything out, you let him. You let him cry, you let him lash out, you let him talk. You know a part of him misses it, mostly because he feels guilty that he can’t help people anymore and because he was conditioned to feel that way by his father. You try telling him that he never belonged in that life in the first place because his father had no business training and raising him as a soldier. He should’ve been a normal kid/teenager. And then he promises himself to never give that life to his child. To be there through everything. To accept them no matter what they choose to do with their life. To be the father John never was to him.

⭑.ᐟhe still has a bad habit of self destructing though. Not often- but sometimes he’ll wake up and hate what he wakes up to because he doesn’t understand why him. Why he deserves this- it’s like an impostor syndrome. He feels like a monster, his demons still follow him although he tries to swallow them down for you. You’re not stupid though. You see it- you try to help. You know that whatever you do it’ll happen again, one day every couple of months where it’ll be bad- but all the other days are so wonderful you figure he needs that one day where he hates everything and everyone- including himself.

⭑.ᐟthe day you give birth…. Dean’s never cried like that. He hates seeing you hurt- no matter what it is. But the moment he lays eyes on your baby, on you cradling him/her, his life doesn’t matter so much anymore. He’ll give that kid the best chance as a great life because he never had that. And god help him If he dares repeating the cycle.

⭑.ᐟhe’ll never dare going one single day without telling you he loves you. Without thanking you for giving him the most incredible kid, and for being his rock. He holds you, he loves you so strongly. He always has- but it’s different now because you’re not the only one he loves.

⭑.ᐟlastly… yes the sex has always been mind blowing, it’s Dean Winchester dammit. BUT! He worships you even more now. The way he’s obsessed with your body, with touching you everywhere. It’s just so crazy. You’re obsessed with each other and the sex has never been this good.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

taglist: @tinas111 @blossomingorchids @bluemerakis @lov3-audz @mostlymarvelgirl @that-stanford-girlie @sunnyteume @bohoooitsme (comment to be added!)

#imagine #fanfic #dean winchester #supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x y/n #dean x reader #sam winchester x female reader #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester headcanon #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fanfiction #dean smut #dean winchester fic #dean fanfiction #dean supernatural #sam and dean #deanwinchtser

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jellykyunnie · 3 months ago

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˗ˏˋ Entry : 065 - Lovesick! Sung Jinwoo x Fem! Reader: Revenge◛⑅·˚ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅ Part 1 || Part 2 ♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

[ Delulu Jinwoo? How about Delulu E-rank faced Jinwoo? Complete loser awkward Sung Jinwoo. Murder, Bullying, Violence. This is a work of fiction do not imitate. ]

╰┈➤ ❝ [ A Knight Soaked In Blood ] ¡! ❞

Jinwoo since that day where he had a mental breakdown that spring morning— Had become suspiciously more clingy around you. He never left your side in school, its to the point you're convinced if he could he's follow you to the school washroom.

Thankfully he seems sane enough to control himself when you need your own private time? Otherwise? He's now your tail.

Like, your actually tail.

But you can't really say no to him, could you?

With those adorable bright grey eyes twinkling like a meek puppy whenever you look over at his direction, and the fluffy ebony locks bouncing about when he gets a bit excited around you— How can you resist him?

Jinwoo just seemed like he needed more of your attention, and nothing hurts with spoiling him with that. After all, you get to see more of his reactions.

How he would blush to the tip of his ears, his hand rubbing the back of his nape whenever he becomes a bit too bashful, and his voice that cracks a little when talking to you due to how excited he is just interacting with you.

꒰ . . . . ꒱

"Strawberry milk... Banana milk... and some cream bread... Yeah this should be good" Jinwoo mumbles as he holds the items in his arms.

He wanted to share the food with you. It's a habit he developed. He just wanted to stuff you full of yummy treats ever since he regressed.

Nothing matters more than your happiness in his eyes.

"She's such a weirdo isn't she? Always hanging out with Jinwoo even though he's unimpressive." He hears a voice from the other side of the vending machine.

"I guess her type are losers? Pfft... No wonder she barely has any other friends."

"Birds of a feather flock together, no?"

"Anyway, how about we join the other girls later for karaoke?"

"Sure!"

"....Woo..."

"Jinwoo?"

Jinwoo perks up as he finished recalling the memory from just a few minutes earlier. He had it on loop in his head the whole time as you busily munched on the bread he had come back with.

"Yeah? Sorry." He rubs his eyes, taking a deep breath before fondly glancing over your direction. "I'm a little distracted today"

"You're normally not like this" You tilt your head, curious as to why Jinwoo is more out of it than usual.

He reached a finger out, gently removing bread crumbs from the corner of your mouth with a touch that isn't hiding his affection at all, "I just stayed up late last night,"

"Argh, what a hypocrite" You playfully scold him, huffing and puffing as if you're a mother that is upset at her son's misdeeds "You always scold me when I stay up late but here you are playing games all night!"

Well, he isn't about to deny the fact that he is playing games. It's just not games people in this time and age would be playing. No, not at all, who else would be dealing with gates as a hobby?

He often messed around with the monsters as if he were a bored toddler tossing and ripping his playthings limb by limb just to watch. Or maybe he'd purposely watch them struggle all for his own amusement.

Nothing in this age really entertains him minus the cute and adorable expressions you make to him. Whether you're upset, happy, or sad— The faces you make never ceases to make him feel more attached to you than he already is.

Jinwoo couldn't really indulge in you before he regressed, responsibilities were thrust into him out of nowhere. The role of a patriarch he had to fill in when his father disappeared— The burden of carrying his family on his two weary shoulders will always be heavy but a responsibility he would never refuse in any lifetime.

He had neglected you.

The person who filled his youth in blissful joy and innocence.

He spent his summers playing with you by the beach shoreline, running along the path of the waters kissing the golden sands and picking up any amusing trinkets you found on the way.

After school hagwons are often consumed with the both of you on date nights messing around in a samgyupsal restaurant or just hanging out right outside a convenience store, but most often you two are often alone in an empty park for casual talks and unspoken intimacy of two souls yearning for eachother.

In this regression of his, in this second chance—

Jinwoo absolutely refuses to let you go through the brutal bullying you had gone through during this time of your youth.

"Go home early tonight, okay?" He smiles gently, his boyish smile sending your heart jolting at how endearing it was. "You need to rest early tonight so you have energy to be hyper tomorrow."

"What am I, a kid?" You pout at his gentle chiding, hopeless at how he effortlessly diverted the conversation from his hypocrisy to you being told to follow an early sleep curfew. "I'm old enough to have my own sleep schedule."

"Then don't come whining to me tomorrow that you didn't sleep well because you chose to get shut-eye at 2:00 am" He scoffed, pinching your cheek.

"Stupid mushroom head..." You swat his hand away. "Fine, fine! You owe me tteokbokki tomorrow..."

Jinwoo cocks an eyebrow up but decides to humor you, "Anything else?"

"Some shortcakes! Oh and macarons!... Some ice cream too"

"...Don't come crying to me once your belly swells"

"Sung Jinwoo!"

꒰ . . . . ꒱

Class resumed shortly after your bickering with Jinwoo. Of course, the subjects were unbearably painful to listen to. You held back dozing off during the whole afternoon.

Somehow, you had survived long enough until dismissal and of course Jinwoo escorts you back home. He quietly listens to all your rants about the nagging teachers and the unnecessarily hard projects and assignments. Not to mention finals was next month.

He listened on and on until you were both at your doorstep. Of course, you are reluctant to part with him, but with enough reassuranceㅡ You finally go inside somewhere safe and a place where he no linger has to worry about your well-being.

"Bellion." Jinwoo calls out, his voice now flat and devoid of any trace of affection he had talking to you from earlier. "Did you find the brats?"

"Yes, my liege" The undead soldier replies as his floating head hovered over his master's shoulder. "The targets are all located and in a single environment, all six individuals you have been keeping tabs on are together."

"Good" He hums. "Her nightmares will end today"

꒰ . . . . ꒱

Dizzying neon lights, booming speakers, beer and cigarettes teenagers that are illegal to use yet they do it anyway. It’s the peak of teenagehood… In their opinion anyway.

Drugs, sex, drama, only the losers are missing out on enjoying their youth.

Hence why they relished in belittling and destroying everyone else’s days just because they can and are entitled to it. The law doesn’t really apply to them, just slay a pretty penny, agressive parents that can never believe their children can ever do wrong and the typical: “They are too young for this! They have a life ahead of them! Teenagers are just being teenagers!” — Yeah, everyone gets the point.

Jinwoo was lucky enough that those assholes never bothered him in his younger days no matter how wimpy he looks. He just a oided them and never interacted with any of them.

That wasn’t the case for the person he cherishes the most.

While they relished in throwing their life away, the person Jinwoo loved more than life would have an awful breakdown all alone when she experienced one of the most traumatizing bullying ever.

The scars they gave her remained even in her adulthood where she overthinks every little thing and every little conversation that she doubted him no matter how sincere he was. She was as suicidal as she is because she believed no one would actually love her for who she is and giving her life up for the sake others will be the only salvation and worth she’ll ever find in herself.

And Sung Jinwoo absolutely refuses to go down another lifetime of him losing the love of his life.

And as the booming music continues to echo in the karaoke room, the door creaks open to reveal Jinwoo donning his black hoodie over his head to avoid the cameras.

“What the fuck?” Mincheol curses out, groaning as he had to stop kissing his 4th girlfriend for the week.

“Oppa, is that a friend?” Hana asks.

“Friend?” He laughs,

“Oh, it’s Jinyoung? Jinyeok?” Byeong-ho smiles, throwing an arm around Jinwoo’s shoulder. “Hey, buddy, the fuck are you out here for? Shit, is it about the groupings projects? I’m working on it man, so get outta here, yeah?”

“Get that fucker out, argh, ruining my fucking mood” Mincheol cursed, throwing a beer bottle on Jinwoo’s feet that shattered upon impact, “Heym you fucking nutcase! Can’t you fucking see I’m busy trying to get fucking laid? What the hell are you here for, huh?! Are you begging me to fucking kill you?!”

“Kill me?…” A scoff leaves his lips, finding the idea ridiculous. “You think a bastard junkie like you can lay a hand on me?”

His grey eyes look up daringly at Mincheol, hollow and devoid of anything.

“This fucking—“

“There are 7 of you here,” Jinwoo grabs Byeonghoon’s hand around him and crushed it, prompting the teenager to cry out and collapse on the floor, “2 boys that pervertedly touch her when she was in sixth grade, 3 girls that made her elementary life and absolute hellhole for her to live in, and the remaining 2 girls that poured grape juice all over the brand new uniform she got in the weekend.”

“What the hell is he even talking about?” Hana curses, rolling her eyes as she fixed her hair on the reflection of her phone. “Oppa, can you deal with him?”

“You’ll regret ever being alive” Mincheol spat, aiming at Jinwoo neck but it seemed…

That suddenly he is looking at the ceiling.

“Sure,” Jinwoo said, his heel pressing down on Mincheol’s chest as the teenager cried and struggled. “See if you can make a dent on me, really. I mean it sincerely.”

“Make me suffer something that is more painful than seeing your beloved die over and over all while you’re helpless and watching her demise repeatedly.”

If it weren’t for Jinwoo’s goddamn strength that didn’t go away even with his regression— He wouldn’t hold back. Unfortunately he can’t kill anyone in here because where would the fun be?

Isn’t living itself more painful than death?

Why should he be merciful and give them eternal sleep when they wound the heart of someone absolutely precious?

Mercy is not something these people deserve.

Blood splatters paint the walls, whether it’d be the boys or the girls. Jinwoo didn’t care. He even brought scissors.

Not to stab them with it of course. He grabbed Hana, Yumi, and Eun-yeong’s hairs and snipped them off in uneven chunks. Beating up their faces that laughed and snickered at her is not enough, he has to damage their appearances for the full effect of despair.

He stands in the middle of bloodied and mangled teenagers, blood splatters everywhere but on him. Mincheol could only helplessly watch as he witnessed a man akin to the devil himself.

Because how can you wrap your head around such blatant disregard for life? How could and emotionless those empty bloodthirsty orbs of his?

He could only stare wide eyed, with what little he can see at least as both of his eyes are swollen while he creates a pool of rancid urine on the floor mixing with the coppery smell of blood.

“Should be enough” Jinwoo hums to himself as he glances up at the bloody faces on the floor and the weeping girls mourning their carefully pampered hair strands scattered on the floor. “Of course, I do so very hope that each and every one of you have a good night’s rest.”

꒰ . . . . ꒱

They had attempted to report Jinwoo to the school, when it didn't work they turned to the police who looked at the parents and kids as if they all grew a third heard.

Jinwoo, who is scrawny and meek, with no record on his papers nor did any classmate would testify against him as an aggressive person. Any attempts of bribing anyone to lie were all met with silence.

After all, can you convict someone who has nothing but goodwill from the people around him?

He came from an ordinary family, his father is a firefighter— Meanwhile the people blaming him are all elites.

So who would believe them?

It was a clear case of the rich stomping on the less fortunate for their own amusement regardless of the truth.

"Madame, I'm sorry, but for the last time Jinwoo is a very good child. He has decent grades and has never gotten into trouble, your son must have been mistaken" The principal pinches the bridge of his nose as Mincheol's mother went off of him, "Your kid must have mistaken him for someone else, students built as scrawny as Jinwoo isn't uncommon amongst their age group."

"This is absurd!" She continues to scream regardless while Mincheol came out of the office for a breather.

He wanted to knock something over— Until he hears a familiar voice beside him.

"I told you, didn't I?" Jinwoo smiles coolly, as if he had been enjoying him and his friends making a fool out of themselves trying to get him to face his crimes, "No one will believe you no matter how much you try"

"You fucking" Mincheol raises his fist, only to be met with the same hollow, empty and dead grey eyes that had been haunting his dreams as of late.

"You haven't learned your lesson yet?" He asks, opting the teenager to falter back onto his back when Jinwoo reached out to him.

He shut his eyes, completely ready to receive another punch but the shorter boy only dusted off his collar while saying, "Kids like you are rotten to the core, you never really change until you experience something near death."

Mincheol was suddenly yanked down, his gaze now forced to meet Jinwoo's lilac eyes that glows eerily, "It's someone's special day today, so I'll give one of her presents through you and your little army of shitheads."

"Jinwoo?"

Your voice cuts through the air, immediately opting Jinwoo to shove Mincheol back onto the wall as his wicked gaze turned gentle and loving the moment he looked at your direction. It was as if he wasn't the same person who had bloodied him and his friends weeks ago and that he would never have such a bloodthirsty gaze like he did earlier.

Duality is dangerous, and Sung Jinwoo was an expert in being two-faced.

"Is he messing with you again, I swear to god—" You were about to approach Mincheol until Jinwoo gently wraps his arm around your waist and drags you away with little strength. "Hey, hey! Let me go! I need to punch that bastard!"

"Not worth it, let's just go" Jinwoo shakes his head as he grabs your bag to sling over his shoulder, "Leave it alone"

"But that bastard and his friends have been messing you for two weeks now!" You cry out, "How dare that bastard accuse you of beating them? They make so many enemies they mistake anyone! And they decided to frame you on top of that!"

"It's your birthday today, you'll get wrinkles this young if you keep going with that temper of yours" He shakes his head, sneaking in a kiss on top of your head as he managed to successfully bring you out to to the park near the school.

"Then I want them dead for my birthday present!" He merely cocks an eyebrow at your bold declaration, "Those bastards are making our lives hard and for what? Just because they got born with diamond spoons shoved up their fucking asses? They should die painfully and slowly!"

"Sure."

Jinwoo then gets down on his knee as he brought up a small cake he packed in his bag earlier in the morning, he fished out a small lighter in his pocket then lit up the candle he stuck on top of it.

"Blow your candle then, birthday girl," He smiles sweetly, "Today is your special day, and I'm sure your wishes will come true."

"What am I, a kid?" You grumble, pouting at his blatant coddling but didn't reject his offer.

Leaning down, you blow on the candle, reciting your wish in your head.

The moment you were done, Jinwoo leans his forehead against yours.

"I hope you don't mind that from now on you'll be sharing all your birthdays with me" He whispers lovingly, "No matter what happens, I'll be by your side."

"And I will do anything you want. You just have to stay by my side safe and sound."

꒰ . . . . ꒱

The news station all reported the case of 7 close-knit friends who were all assaulted whilst on their nightly karaoke outings.

An innocent bonding by teenagers turned bloody as an unknown assailant arrived in their booth and attacked them unprovoked.

Four of the five teenagers sustained injuries that their bones had shattered, opting their limbs to be surgically removed. The girls all had their hair chopped off in large chunks in addition to the cuts on their now mutilated faces.

We had just received news that 4 of the group have passed away in their sleep after going through intense seizures.

Remaining survivors are brought into mental hospitals as they exhibit extremely manic behaviours that are extremely harmful to both themselves and to others. Hence, the doctors have decided to keep them on thorough watch until they are deemed safe for society and to themselves.

Currently, the authorities have no suspect as the cctv cameras were all malfunctioning at the time of the incident.

꒰ 🪼 A/N: Guys it's actually my birthday today!!! April 9th<33!!! So i switched up this very messy fic to be my birthday present to me heheh:DD!!! Have you guys missed lovesick woowoo? I did! Hence why this is a birthday special www!!! Hope you all loved it uueee(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧ ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧: ~ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

#‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡🪐༘⋆— kyunnie's writings #sung jinwoo #solo leveling #sung jin woo #only i level up #solo leveling headcanons #sung jinwoo x reader #sung jinwoo x you #sung jin woo x reader #sung jinwoo headcanons #sung jin woo headcanons #sung jinwoo x reader fluff #solo leveling x reader #solo leveling fanfic #ore dake level up na ken

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4mrplumi · 5 months ago

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ZERO (i) : SCAVENGERY . (ms/next)

-> plot synopsis - you don't think you're as odd and horrifying as the news makes you out to be. but you have never much cared for the validation of others, and certainly not theirs.

-> batfamily x serial killer reader. playlist (wip) ask 2b added to taglist

-> tw; gn reader, guns, referenced assault, violence, toxic relationships, eventual fem love interest, bug taxidermy, unhealthy coping mechanisms, murder, sociopathic tendencies, full on master list.

> a/n; horribly in love with the idea of a self-sufficient classy mean judge. reblogs and interactions appreciated!! a lot (●'◡'●)

in fact, you are grateful for their ignorance. you do not need their recognition, their thanks.

you won’t say you’re not petty, not childish, not absurd and not disgusting for what you’re doing, but you’ve heard it innumerable times before, and don’t mind it now. in a matter of days, the limits you’ve placed on yourself have become the bane of your existence.

bright, technicoloured posters with you favourite bands and characters hang on the walls, music playing merrily on a small portable speaker you’d bought with your self-earned pocket money. it all provided the perfect image of a regular teenager, to the extent that you weren’t really creating a civilian identity like your family, but living through it. normally.

it makes you giddy, and you know it shouldn’t, to be so unsuspecting. your grades are mediocre, but your teachers praise your work, you’re not popular enough to go be invited to every party, but enough to be friends with three quarters of the grade, not dedicated enough to a franchise to know it super well, but still enjoy it through multiple perspectives. normal, exceptional, and normal.

that’s what makes it all the more rewarding to do what you do. since being adopted at eleven, you’ve pieced together the caped identities of the monolith you call your family with lovely colour-coded pin boards and pictures. you know they escape into the night to fight not criminals, but fight crime, beating and getting beat in the process.

you think it’s tedious, but you never comment. there’s not much you remember prior to coming into the manor, except the raw experiences from fleeing cheerfully down unkempt, spray painted, molding stairway chambers with your friends away from an angry neighbour, laughing the whole way down. sharing fries for one among six to seven people, since money was hard to get by and harder to go around and listening to the one person who could afford school talk about it. pushing your friends on the swings and them tying your laces in return, since the swings were too far from the ground to push yourself, and scratchy velcro was for “sissies”.

you could say your childhood was rugged, but fairly kind for a gothamite. you weren’t given the life of a gilded richman’s son like tim, or the hard street crime life of jason. you weren’t raised by assassins or masters like damian and cassandra, not clever and determined like duke, not gifted with athleticism like dick. normal, incredibly. lucky, even.

you cannot think of anyone when you think of family. you considered your group of friends (acquaintances does your relationship better justice, but at ten, everyone was a friend if they didn’t wear a badge and a cap) family, but you knew that’s not what the word meant. they’d go back home to fighting parents, single mothers, thieving fathers, earning siblings or aging aunts and uncles. you would go home to a quiet one-room apartment and a poor quality mattress.

it’s not fair to say you weren’t cared for. the neighbourhood considered you their darling child, your friends’ parents sending you food, aunties reading you stories and elderly residents providing comfort when you wanted the rare support of an adult. but you had no family because by your accord, you would have to return home to them for someone to be family.

it’s the opposite now. you return home from school to bruce wayne and his entourage of misplaced children, but your interactions are stiff as stone. you go out to diners and have the most soulless conversations, stay in the house and refuse to partake in their exchanges.

because you are different. their morals are aligned to your guardian’s, of justice and strength and so on, so on. your morals are aligned with your survival, no one else's, selfish, scavenging. you cannot get along on a base value, because you don’t belong to their nest of canaries. you are, as a silly buzzfeed quiz at five in the morning said, a shrike.

yet still, you seeked the warmth of family. the resurgence of that feeling you once had in your old life. you could never return, having now experienced the fruits of luxury, having lived too far from “home” for far too long, with the added weight of a bruce wayne shaped shadow that followed you. the immense danger it would bring to yourself and those around you would be preposterous, unimaginable, but no more horrifying than the awkwardness you'd receive from you old not-family. scrutinising stares, untrusting glances, forced waves. no, no, it wouldn’t do. you don’t want to feel miserable.

it’s enough that your presumed family already gives you those looks. sneers from damian, concerned glances from cassandra, brief unease from dick, ignorance from tim, you could go on and on and on. and you’re not stupid. you only have yourself to blame.

your vanity, as the buzzfeed quiz had said, in curling cursive font that sometimes turned to boxes on the ui, presented itself as a horrifying ignorance. unlike a peacock’s gushing beauty, your pretty-factor extended only as far into first impressions. when someone gets closer, enough to see the white of your eyes, they shrink away.

crude comments, satirical dismissal, and sharp judgement are things that have, in air quotes, made you unlikable. when watching a documentary about bug-taxidermy on one of the tvs, damian had walked in and commented on the generous “inhumanity” of it. instead of justifying the practice with explanations of how ethical it was, you’d scoffed and called him dramatic. he antagonised you, and you couldn't care less.

mean things left your mouth without hesitation, “who cares” and “you’re doing too much” at the simplest things. but you didn’t do it on purpose. growing up, kindness was reserved only for people in your circle, barterers of goods and generosity. you were polite to the old ladies who brought you food, nice to the new kid who looked at you for guidance, and offered support to people who’d offered that to you too.

you had no obligation to be kind to the wayne household. they had done nothing for you, other than pulling you out of a blood stained alley and providing you a home you didn’t ask for. you weren’t let in on their family bonds and not given the chance to create mutual trust with them, and were not keen on it after their whitewashed kidnapping either.

perhaps you had the frayed edges of low-class living from gotham’s alleys, but you also had firmly set, stich, stern and strict guidelines about your behaviour. you would not make the first move, and you would not do more than fulfill debts. one favour for another, never more.

that’s what makes your secretive secret side job exhilarating. you have no need to do what you do, except for a sense of duty. the term itself, obligation, is unfamiliar, exciting. like many, but not the majority, the batman and his menagerie’s morals seem too high standing for the crevices of gotham’s underworld. only the red hood can relate, and even he is too far from the truth in your eyes.

death was a permanent solution to the wrongs of people. but you could not simply just wipe out a criminal from the street and call it a day. the only striking similarity between you and bruce wayne, was that the two of you didn’t fight criminals, but fought crime. you snuffed it out as it started hinting at the surface, not waiting for a track record or a ticket list on a license. nothing was forgiven, because you were not obliged to forgive.

you did not forgive, but did excuse. the theft of food, the death of someone too touchy, the fractured ribs of a parent too cruel, were excused. because like you, the suspect, the criminal, was also simply bartering. a favour for a favour, a wicked death for a wicked life. they would be let off from your radar, until someone else got to them. you were not obliged to save them. you are duty-bound only to rid.

out of habit really, you resorted to violence. seeing a lady bothered by a fellow too close a few months back, you did what came naturally without the supervision of domineering adults and officers and shot him point blank. for a second, the woman stilled, painted in blood from the spray that arced to her, before screaming in horror and fleeing, without so much as a glance in your direction.

you were unperturbed by the lack of thanks, with a hint of humour at the thought, since it meant you were not indebted to her and she was not to you.

but it’s the realisation that comes shortly after, that a fine or a scolding would not similarly scare away the man, and he was now well taken care of. and you think of the other scummy people hiding gotham’s crowded basements, and think of their freedom. it makes you angry, it always has, truly it does. death was not an uncommon occurrence in gotham, the murders and abductions, cruelty and pain all as abundant as the trash, poverty and crime within the city. why was it only an offense when it came to the people who perpetuated it?

comfort does little to save victims. a bag of cash and a pat on the back will not rid them of their memories, sadness, or their losses. you are neither sympathetic nor can you relate, but you are angry. have been angry. on their behalf. the world is a rotten and sick place, and this city is especially so. and while batman is a poor janitor, the red hood one too late, and the monolith of your family too distant, you are decided. you’ll wash this place clean like a broken truck, knowing it’ll never work again, but look pretty as it remains.

and you, a good-for-nothing, always scorning, useless kid, are unsuspecting. you are grateful for their ignorance. you do not need their recognition or their thanks.

> a/n i think this is a solid part one for a prologue bit. the crow choir series is getting a bit neglected because i want to think over its intricacies a bit better. in contrast, this is a very kick and throw kind of plot line, more fun to write for.

i've been super nervous to post on tumblr but am enjoying it. hopefully will upload the next bits soon, interactions so very very appreciated! esp ideas in comments or asks, because it makes me feel like i'm not wiling away the time i should use for other things (T_T) overall just feels nice too.

thank you for reading!!

#saria 💤 says #'25 run: scavengery #yandere!batfam #yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #batfam x reader #batfamily x reader #yandere batfam x reader #yan batfam #yan batfam x reader #x male reader #x gn reader #yandere x reader #dc x reader #yandere dc #yandere batboys #batfam x neglected reader #batfam x villain reader

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