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dollgxtz · 2 months

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Getting Closer

Word Count: 4.6k

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, cnc, stalking roleplay, rough sex, taunting, home invasion roleplay, crying, pet names like kitten, and sweetie, spanking

AN: Hiii again! Tyvm for 900 notes on my last story!!! I didn't think dark romance content with Sylus would be popular with ppl (I keep seeing convos about people mis-characterizing him). But honestly I think people should write him however they see fit!! I love seeing different interpretations! However, one things for certain. This man is definitely into primal play and no one can convince me other wise. This is loosely based on the midnight stealth story where he says "You're pretty good at running away" and "I truly enjoy watching my little prey struggle, especially when it thinks it can escape from me"

AHHHH ENOUGH TYPING ENJOYYYYY!!! (✿˶’◡˘)♡

Its a late evening and you and your dearest coworker Tara (who you basically considered your bestie at this point) were having a delicious dinner at one of the most high rated restaurants in Linkon. What was the occasion? Nothing special actually, Tara was just an intense foodie and felt the need to drag you to practically every restaurant in the city when she was feeling a particular craving. Not that you minded, it was actually nice to get to do something other than fighting for once. The Wanderers had been getting more frequent lately, and it seemed like every other day you were being called to fight them off.

Tara was busy chatting away about her own exhaustion from work, how badly her last haircut had gone, and some guy she had met on the subway that couldn't seem to leave her alone. You could only giggle as she went on and on about him. Despite her obvious distaste for the guy, you thought he actually seemed pretty well rounded. You had been hesitating on telling her about Sylus. You didn't worry that he was going to leave you for Tara, nothing ridiculous like that. He was just...hard to explain. I mean what could you say?

"Oh yeah, I'm dating the leader of Onychinus, yeah the one that escaped from space prison and rules the N109 Zone...did I mention he probably owns this restaurant? But don't worry he's SUCH a sweet guy if you get to know him!"

Yeah...probably wouldn't go well. You let out an exasperated sigh, looking out of the restaurants tall window. It was a bit chilly tonight, no doubt it would start snowing soon. You turn to Tara again, whose still in the middle of her stories of her bad dates. You're about to ask her if she's ready for the check when your phone rings.

Tara gets a dangerous look in her eye and before you can even blink she snatches your phone off the table and abruptly answers.

"Is this the mysterious handsome boyfriend my friend wont tell me about?" she coos, blocking your attempts to grab your phone. "Tara!! Please!" you exclaim, trying your hardest to not get the attention of the other patrons.

You feel your ears heat up as you get up from the booth. She laughs at something he says as you finally get your device from her grasp. She huffs in amusement from her little joke. You put the phone to your ear to hear Sylus chuckling a bit.

"Sorry ...um, what did you want?" you say lowly, trying to get yourself together.

"I'm guessing that's...Tessa?" Sylus says, clearly amused by the situation. He's got that...tone in his voice. The one he uses when he's toying with you. You feel your face heat up, trying to keep your cool with Tara watching close next to you.

"Tara" you correct, coldly, shooting her a death glare. "She's still got a few screws loose clearly". She giggles at this comment and you sigh.

"She seems pretty funny to me"

"What did you want? I was just about to head ho-"

"I really like your hair today, kitten" Sylus says, his voice seemingly lower and...dark?

You feel the hairs on your neck stand up, immediately you begin to scan the restaurant. He hasn't seen you today at all...is he in the restaurant? Is Mephisto outside somewhere tattling again? You scan everywhere but no sight of either one of them.

"Cat got your tongue sweetie?"

You swallow, turning back to the phone. "I see you have nothing better to do than send that damn bird to spy on me again. I'm taking him apart when I find him" you say, trying your hardest to sound calm.

Tara tilts her head in confusion, and you give her an awkward grin. Dammit. You'll have to explain it off as an inside joke or something later. Sylus chuckles again on the other end, sending a million thoughts racing in your head.

"Who said anything about Mephisto? He's back at home, probably resting".

"Then how..." your voice trails off, the words seemingly stuck in your throat. Curse this man, always playing his stupid mind games with you.

"What do you mean how? I can see you of course. How else would I know sweetie?"

Ah...so he is here. He's just hiding from you, probably enjoying the look of your panicked face and you wiping your sweaty palms on your skirt.

"That skirt will roll up pretty easy don't you think, kitten?" Sylus says, drawing out every syllable. You can hear the smile through the phone and it infuriates you. But it also forms a knot in your stomach from excitement. He's got you right where he wants you clearly.

You suddenly hang up on him, barely able to bear the tension forming in you heart and stomach. You sigh and turn your attention back to your very worried coworker. "Um...sorry. I think we should probably get the check don't you think? Its late haha..." you trail off, trying to look less stressed. What was that idiot thinking?? There's no way you were gonna do that in public. You try looking through the window again, trying to spot even a tall silhouette somewhere but nothing...where is he???

You feel cold fingers touch your shoulder, and you whip your head to face Tara. "I'm sorry if I made you upset...or him. Is everything okay with you both?" she asks, her brows furrowed in confusion. Your head spins trying to come up with some explanation for your panic. Is there even a good excuse? No way you could tell her that its some kind of sex game you both indulge in right???

"Umm, look its fine!! Nothing to worry about Tara, I forgive you" you say quickly, gathering your things into your bag. "I have to go though, lets get the check yeah?"

Tara, albeit still puzzled, nods her head in agreement. "Lets meet here again next week! But please, if you ever need to talk to me I'm here okay?" she says softly, before leaning in to give you a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. You both chat for a bit before the waiter comes with the check, bidding each other goodbye once the bill was settled.

You open the door to the restaurant and shiver as the crisp, early winter air envelopes your body. It wasn't nearly this cold earlier and you curse yourself for picking this stupid thin skirt to wear. The sun has long set and its dark. The moon gives the street a nice glow however, which settles your nerves a little.

Your phone rings.

You stop dead in your tracks, debating if you should even pick up. With shaky fingers, you finally answer.

"You know I don’t like being hung up on, where’s your manners hm?" Sylus asks. You glance over your shoulder, half expecting to see his annoying grin, but there's nothing there. You nod absentmindedly and murmur a quick "whatever" as you keep walking. Maybe if you stay quiet, you’ll catch the sound of his footsteps and figure out his location?

"You're close...aren't you Sylus?" you say, trying to sound confident in your question. In all honesty you had no idea.

"Obviously. I can smell that vanilla perfume I love so much. You should wear it more often"

"Its not really that good of a scent, too sweet. I don't like it..." you mutter, voice shaking as you walk. You hear a crunch behind you and you whip your head around. Unfortunately, its just some stray cats scurrying about near some trash cans. You cant tell whether your relieved or more frightened that its not Sylus.

"We both know that's not true. You always wear it on our dates..." he chuckles through the phone, as if it finds it amusing. "Always trying to impress me, how cute”.

Ah, so he did notice. You found it kind of freaky how observant he was sometimes. He probably knew you better than yourself at times. But this confirmed something very important. He was close, close enough to smell you. Did you pass by him by accident and didn't notice? You start walking a bit faster, hoping to catch the last subway home before in leaves the station.

"Zip it" you growl into the phone. You look up ahead, spotting some mirrors being displayed in some glass displays. Ah hah...maybe you'll see glimpses of him if you stop by?

You abruptly stop in front of one of the mirrors, pretending to admire your appearance.

"Do you think I should wear my hair like this more often Sylus?" you ask, narrowing your eyes to look in the reflection. There is someone, but its not Sylus. Just a disheveled looking guy smoking a cigarette.

"Using the reflection are we? What a clever little kitten you are...~"

He hangs up.

You spin around, hoping to catch sight of him. I mean c'mon, he's over 6ft, wide shoulders, and white hair. He should be easy to spot, even in the dark. But again, nothing.

But you know he's still watching you. You can feel it. You begin to hug yourself, partly out of fear but also out of being cold. You needed to hurry if you didn't want to be stuck walking the rest of the way to your apartment.

Part of you didn't want to admit it but this was exciting. You liked Sylus when he was sweet yes...but you liked it more when he was dangerous. You keep up a slightly fast pace, trying to keep your head on a swivel. You battle between feeling scared and confident, your stomach in shambles.

You turn your head as you enter the crowd of people waiting to board the subway. All of them seemingly tired and needing somewhere to be. You swipe your subway pass through the gate lock and it opens.

Your phone rings again, and out of instinct you hang up on him. Then you get an idea. You call back.

The distinct ring tone of Sylus's phone can barely be heard over the noise of people chattering but you hear it!! You strain to hear it but it only rings once before he picks up.

"You always manage to impress me with how clever you are. Too bad it won't save you in the end...will it?" Sylus chuckles.

"Quit talking and stop hiding prick" you spat, looking around.

"Ah ah ah, patience sweetie. Unless you want me to take what's mine in front of all these people?"

You can tell by Sylus's tone that he's losing his resolve. More importantly his patience. No doubt he'd be turning up the intensity of yall's little game very soon. You shiver, imagining you pinned underneath him, whining and mewling from his cock while people pass.

"What's your plan kitten?" he asks, the sounds of brakes and doors opening echoing through the phone. "I know where you live, I know what turns you make, what your street looks like. You know you can't outrun me"

"Ha, well I know that you cant hide forever, Sylus" you say triumphantly. You step onto the subway, trying your hardest to push past people.

That's when you see it. The white hair, the red eyes. Your gazes find each other almost instantly. Despite walking into your trap, Sylus's mouth forms an almost villainous grin and he starts taking strides towards you. The door shuts behind him.

You hang up.

Thankfully, people pile behind you, giving you some cover from him. You turn your head over your shoulder, watching him closely. He's wearing a black turtleneck with a brown winter jacket made somewhat of leather. He's broad, and tall and yet blends in fine with the people around him.

You watch as he scans every face and seat he passes. You attempt to back up but are met with a few disgruntled people telling you to stop pushing. You're trapped. Panicking, you try to think. Maybe you could get off a stop early? No, he'd definitely get to your place before you. You have to get home and lock the doors, maybe barricade if you have to. All you can do is think to press yourself against the glass doors to hopefully be the first one off.

You turn around, and realize he's staring you down intently. Somehow he had made his way right behind you without you noticing. He towers above you, blocking your view of other people.

Shit shit shit.

His expression, once smug, now drops. His eyes glare at you from under his brow. You feel frozen, like a deer in headlights. Like true prey. All you can think to do in the moment is turn back around, avoiding his gaze. Sure, he's got you pinned now. But he won't do anything with all these people around right?

You feel him lean down, breath hot against your ear.

"Did you really think you could escape from me?" he growls, trailing a finger down the curve of your spine. You shiver from his touch, your instincts screaming at you to bolt away from him immediately.

"I do like to play with my prey a little...but you know I always find you" he says, resting a hand on your hip now. Your shaking now, whether from fear or excitement, you don't really know. He's so close you can feel the hardness of his erection against your ass. He's definitely at his limit now.

Not wanting him to think he's won just yet, you remain silent and whip your head away from him. You look at the faces of your fellow passengers but no one seems to notice you. They're all busy engrossed in their phones or conversations.

"No ones going to help you kitten". He mocks. He gets even closer, resting his arm on the wall beside you, angling his body so no one can see you. He takes his free hand and slides it under your shirt, caressing your soft tummy, up to your belly button, eventually settling on the roundness of your breasts.

You desperately try to reach up to remove his hands but of course to no avail, it doesn't work. You feel heat rising to your face...but not only there. An aching, hot feeling in the core of your stomach and between your legs engulfs you.

"Sylus...really? Here?" you ask, voice shaking, trying your best to hold in a whimper. Sylus doesn't answer, only continuing touch your breasts. His thumb and index finger rests on one of your nipples, pinching it slightly. You nearly drop to the ground, pain and pleasure sweeping through your core.

'What's wrong? I can touch you wherever and whenever I please" he says plainly, continuing his assault on your nipple. "You're mine".

As if trying to prove a point, his hands comes off your breast and dips underneath your skirt. He swiftly but roughly begins to press his fingers against your pussy over the fabric of your underwear. You gasp at the suddenness of the assault, your knees threatening to buck underneath you. You grab his wrist in an attempt to stop him but he ignores you.

"I should just take you right here. What do you think sweetie?" he whispers in your ear, clearly enjoying the sight of your distraught face.

As if the universe decided to grant mercy on you, the robotic voice of the intercom suddenly announces the name of your stop.

The doors open. You lose your balance, but quickly recover before you eat gravel. You don't even bother to look behind you, you just start bolting, trying to put as much distance between you and Sylus as you can.

"Aww, kitten where are you going? We're just getting started" Sylus chimes from behind you. No doubt not even bothering to chase after you. You knew he'd catch up in his own ways. Ignoring him, you keep bolting, all that track during high school thankfully being good for something.

You make a sharp turn into an alley, your stamina beginning to falter but you know you cant stop. Your phone rings, and in a burst of anger you answer.

"Quit calling!" your voice a mix of anger, desperation and fear, which gives Sylus a good chuckle once more. He's completely unphased by your little tantrum.

"I must ask, why pick an alley? Are you trying to make this easy for me?" he teases.

You turn your head, almost gasping when you see the familiar silhouette of Sylus.

Then he moves. Long, quick strides and he's already closed the distance between you two. He's whistling a familiar tune, no doubt from one of his many records. You recognize it almost immediately, its one of your favorites. But now rather than soothing, its just rather unnerving.

You snap out of your frozen state and keep bolting, narrowly missing Sylus's attempt to grab your hair.

"My kitten is still fairly quick, I see. Good job sweetie" he praises, his footsteps still not far behind you. You know his words are made mockingly. He could've easily grabbed you with his Evol if he wanted to. He's simply toying with you now. Playing with his food.

You turn sharply out of the alleyway, the sight of the gates to your apartment building in view. Safety. Its so close. A rush of adrenaline courses through your veins. The wind whips past your face as you push your body past its limits. The night is even colder now with the sweat pouring all down your body. Your hair is even sticking to your neck and face now but all you can think about is bolting up the stairs and locking yourself away.

You made it to the base of the stairs, wasting no time to run up the stairs. There it is.

You hear footsteps behind you.

The door. Now. GO. You dash through your doorway, cursing yourself about why the door was even unlocked in the first place. But in this situation? It was a blessing in disguise.

That was the fastest you had ever locked a door in your life. You scanned the room making quick work of pushing the sofa against the door and a few chairs.

You collapse.

Your breathes come in uneven, staccato bursts, sweat having drenched your shirt by now. You rip it off over your head, the clamminess unbearable. Now only in your bra and skirt, you're able to breathe a bit. As you start to collect your thoughts, you freeze.

Wait. The balcony.

Fuck.

You get up quickly, rounding the corner to lock the balcony doors. Thankfully, they're still shut when you reach over to lock it.

Yes!! You won?? Did he give up?

There's nothing but silence and the sound of your ac humming for a few short moments. You start to question if Sylus actually did leave you alone, when your phone suddenly rings. You answer it. confidence ringing in your voice.

"I win Sylus. Thanks for the little game though" you retort, still attempting to catch your breath.

"Are you sure about that?" He asks. His voice is cool and calm. "How sure are you that you got to the balcony before I did?"

"Wha-I would've heard you Sylus..." you say with uncertainty. You weren't sure anymore. You look around. Your apartment isn't the biggest. No way he got in here without you noticing.

"Would you have heard me?"

"Pfft. You don't scare me" you spat, backing away from the balcony doors.

You hear him chuckle. "I guess I almost had you didn't I?". You make your way towards your the middle of your living room.

"Say...what do you think would've happened if I caught you kitten?"

Your thoughts stir in your nearly silent apartment. You aren't sure how to answer him, anxiety knotting in your stomach. You start making your way to your bedroom, with your face towards the balcony, watching it with intensity.

"Surprise...~"

You nearly jump out of your skin, a scream ripping through your throat as large arms wrap around your waist and lift you. Sylus is quick to cover your mouth, dragging your kicking and distraught form towards your bedroom.

He got in before you. Of course he did. He can be lightening fast after all.

You bite his hand, hard. He simply chuckles, causing you to get even more desperate.

"Let me go!" you yell.

"Sure sweetie" he drops you to the ground, giving you a small window of opportunity to run. You try, but he instantly grabs your hair, twisting it into his grip. You yelp, tears forming from the sudden pain. The more you struggle the more it hurts. You desperately try removing his hand but of course he doesn't budge.

He watches you with a pitiful look, rolling his eyes.

"So fucking predictable, as usual"

He starts dragging you across the hard marble floor. Your scalp feels like its on fire, each and every strand being stressed with every pull. He finally reaches your bedroom, wasting no time to bend you over the bed. You push back against him, attempting to kick him. He pulls your head back by your hair. You nearly scream, letting out a sob. Tears stream down your face as you try to look at him, pleading.

"Please, I'm sorry. Please don't" you beg. He simply laughs. You feel his Evol wrapping around you.

"None of those are safe words sweetie"

You choke back on tears. You're practically soaked now. And it wasn't sweat. You feel utterly helpless, trapped underneath him, begging to be freed. He reaches up a hand, undoing the clasps of your bra with one hand. Its falls off your chest effortlessly, leaving you exposed.

"Thanks for making this part easy. Though this skirt is still in the way" he mutters. He pins you to the bed, rolling your skirt up to reveal the skin of your ass.

"Sylus...please" you whimper. Your only answer from him is the sudden sting from a sudden slap to the ass. You yelp in pain, the hot achiness between your legs rising. He rips your underwear in two with swiftness.

"Sylus, please" he mocks, you can hear the grin on his face. 'Telling me you don't want this and yet your dripping all down your leg"

He slides a finger along your cunt, making your legs buck. He rolls a finger around your cunt a few times, earning a symphonies of moans from you. You're already desperate to cum and he's barely done anything to you. Breath ragged, legs shaking, your about to beg him to let you finish when he suddenly pulls away.

???

You're confused until you hear the sound of his belt unbuckle. Is he...going to fuck you already? Not that your disappointed at all. You brace yourself for a sudden intrusion when your met with the sharp sting. You yelp, the surprise of the attack sending shivers down your body. But he doesn't stop, he hits your ass again. And again. Then again. And again.

You feel like your about to pass out. The pain is overwhelming all your senses. But part of you doesn't want him to stop. Your sure you have belt shaped bruises littering your ass by now. The tears have completely clouded your vision. You cant see a thing.

"You're so pretty when you cry sweetie. So pretty~". Sylus reaches a hand up to your faces and wipes some tears away. He leans over, lifting your chin to look up at him.

"Are you doing okay?" his tone is soft, his expression a mix of wonder and worry. You nod enthusiastically, letting him know you're still enjoying this.

"Aw. Lets change that shall we?" he says, his soft expression turning into a smug grin. Your smile drops and your heart starts pound again.

This bastard.

He gives you one last hard whip to the ass before you hear the belt drop to the floor. Then the sound of him unzipping of his pants follows. Your pulse quickens in anticipation. You can't move though, his evol keeping you firmly in place. He puts his hand back in your hair, tugging just enough to remind you of your place beneath him. You feel him align his hips with yours.

"Sylus, I-"

Then he's pushing into you. You're so wet that all it takes is one fluid motion and he's in. Doesn't hurt any less though. You stifle a scream, trying desperately through your tears to beg him to pull out. His pace is deep and slow. It feels almost akin to torture. The head of his cock presses against your g-spot, building a painful high in your abdomen. The hour of teasing and adrenaline rush has you beyond overstimulated, you feel ready to burst at any moment but its not enough stimulation. You stay bordering on the edge of heaven, and yet he doesn't allow you to cross over. It feels like hours as he keeps getting you right to the tip of finishing and then slows down. It hurts so bad, and your crying over and over.

"Sylus...it hurts" you whimper.

"Its supposed to"

"Sylus...please" you beg, your voice shaking from desperation.

"Calm down kitten"

"Sylus-'

"I said calm yourself. Or I'll stop now. Do you want that?"

You whimper in disagreement, face planting into the bed once more. Sylus lifts your head by the chin, leaning down to give you a small kiss on the cheek. You look so beautiful right now, the puffiness and red of your eyes turning him on even more. He speaks, his voice hard and cold.

"Always so greedy. Spoiled brat."

With little to no warning, he slams his cock into your aching cunt. You gasp in shock, but have no time to process anything as he fucks you faster and harder with each thrust. Your so overstimulated that it only takes a few thrusts to make you cum. Your body tenses and shakes as you come undone on his cock. Your moaning while gasping for air, feeling the best you've ever felt and yet on the verge of passing out.

Sylus feels your cunt tighten so hard around him that he can't help but also come undone himself. You hear a small and faint "Fuck..." but your head is spinning too much to hear much else. You're in a trance practically.

You feel the stickiness of his cum dripping down your thigh and then your out like a light. Adrenaline and overstimulation had gotten the best of you. Sylus chuckles and gently lifts you onto your bed, pulling the sheets over your worn out body.

When you wake up, your eyes and head hurt so so bad. Your vision is blurry too. You attempt too blink the blurriness away.

Sylus.

You sit up, looking for him. Did he leave already? You look at the clock, the red hue of the lights read that its three in the morning.

"S-sylus?" you whimper, feeling slightly abandoned.

"Calm down sweetie, I'm here. Its cute watching you search for me though" he says, his figure appearing in the doorway. He's holding a water bottle and a wet rag. He sits next to you, and starts gently wiping the dried tears from your face. You look down, your thighs still a sticky mess of cum, sweat and desperation from earlier. Sylus smiles a bit, laughing under his breath.

"I figured I could run you a shower when you woke up" he says, stretching out his hand for you. "Although the plumbing here is...less than adequate I guess I could join you".

You roll your eyes, laughing at his dumb remark before taking his hand in yours. You cant help but crack a smile.

"Yeah, lets go"

#umi writes ♡︎#love and deepspace #sylus x reader #sylus #sylus x reader smut #love and deepspace smut #love and deep space smut #love and deepspace sylus #lads smut #lads sylus #l&ds smut #l&ds sylus #love and deep space x reader #lads

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confused-wanderer · 1 year

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It would be hilarious if villains loved Nightwing and were terrified of Officer Dick Grayson.

Dick Grayson- who is used to open spaces and adrenaline- being stuck in a boring bleak office, surviving on shots of coffee and red bull with caffeine that would make Tim concerned.

The thugs soon realised that unlike most of the other cops - Dick was from Gotham.

No one fucks with Gothamites.

Villain *shooting at Dick with machine guns*

Dick *appearing from the shadows behind him*: Boo.

Villain: THIS IS A FIVE STOREY BUILDING HOW THE HELL DID YOU GET HERE

Thief *throwing a counting down bomb at Dick*

Dick: *catching and tossing the bomb at a safe distance before turning round and shooting it so it explodes mid air while running after thief*

Thief: .. what the actual fuck

Dick: Gee look at all that time you had! Shame you threw it away :D

Thief:

Dick: I’m from Gotham

Thief *realising they fucked up* : Please don’t steal my bones

Shooter: *sets elaborate booby traps throughout the houses in an active hostage situation*

Dick *using his training as robin and inhuman flexibility to surpass them with ease*: Ah been a while since I got to have a nice stretch thank you.

Shooter:

Dick:

Shooter:

Dick: .. Hi :)

Shooter: Are you Satan?

AND

In interrogation room

Murderer: I think I’ll take your eyes and add them to my collection

Dick *running on spite and caffeine that could give Superman a sugar rush* : Funny.. I was going to say the same thing to you

Murderer: .. what

Dick: I wouldn’t take your eyes though.. they look like the inspiration behind the whole Medusa’s “look at it and you turn to stone” thing-

Murderer: Hey! Take that back before I gut you

Dick *smile stretching wider without blinking* : oh? Or what? I know everything about you. Who says I can’t kill you and walk out with everyone being none the wiser? I know how to kill someone too..you aren’t special.

Murderer:

Murderer: I’m scared for my safety.

Because the thing is, Nightwing is who Dick really is. It’s who he can be free as, be himself as without red tapes and regulations. Where he can give as good as he gets, and he’s kind and empathetic. He gets to help the downtrodden and goes easy on most of them if they give up right away, not to mention the fact that he never causes permanent damage.

But officer Dick Grayson is a different story. He runs on sleepless nights and no self preservation. Seeing an officer with an uncanny skill set they’re scarily good at, not to mention the cheery attitude he always has scares the shit out of criminals. Cuz no way in hell is a smiling Gothamite not a deranged one. He chases crimes like a bloodhound, and isn’t afraid to make good on threats he makes to ensure they never hurt anyone again.

Bonus if the batfam doesn’t know about this.

Red hood: Shit I can’t believe we ended up in Bludhaven

Red Robin *tying up the corrupt politican* : Since this is a sensitive case, we need someone we can trust to make sure it is seen through.

Red hood: .. So we paying a visit to Officer Grayson?

Politician *screeching* : NO NO NO NO! PLEASE NOT HIM!! JUST KILL ME INSTEAD AND TAKE ALL MY MONEY I CANT DEAL WITH HIM!

Red hood: .. is he fucking serious?

Henchmen: Sir he is. And we agree. Please take our bones and kill us but don’t take us to Officer Grayson.

Red Robin: Wait what did he do?

Henchman 1: He asked boss if the hat was sentient.. and said that if it was would it make that hat the top and boss the bottom.

Henchman 2: Last time we met I tried to shoot him but suddenly my gun was blank and he raised his hand and let the ammo drop

Red Hood: Well even I could do that-

Henchman 2: They were my bullets. I had selected the colour personally.

Red robin *growing concerned*

Henchman 3: He sang a lullaby to a child when we were holding the station hostage, and replaced the people with my family members. He even sang their social security numbers!

Henchman 4: He’s the most dangerous of them all. I ain’t shitting ya when I say he’s as scary as the bat from Gotham.

*all nodding in agreement*

Red hood:

Red Robin:

Red hood: Nah that doesn’t sound like Dick

Red Robin: Agreed. Let’s go there Hood.

*villains’ sobbing intensifies*

#batman #dick grayson #jason todd #red hood #nightwing #tim drake #batfam #red robin #officer dick grayson #batfam headcanons #dick Grayson headcanons #dick grayson police officer

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chelseeebe · 4 months

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truth or dare

18+. mdni. smuuuut. yeah man it’s really just smut. eddie munson x female reader.

a/n: not sure if i really like this but i wanted to post something while i work on this other long ass thing that may never see the light of day el oh el a continuation to gimme a hand and bump n’ grind or can absolutely be read on it’s own!

steve and robin had made the right call, leaving a few hours ago before the storm really hit.

eddie’d stupidly offered another joint, not wanting to let you go so soon. optimistic that maybe something would happen after those two had cleared off.

you’d been darting around it all evening, watching the movie with your hand under the blanket, stroking his thigh. inadvertently, or perhaps purposefully, making his cock shift with every length of your hand.

you peer out of the window, clicking your tongue against the back of your teeth, “i don’t think i can drive,” turning back to face him, “it’s really comin’ down out there,” a hint of satisfaction in your voice.

“i’m sure wayne won’t mind if you crash here,” shrugging softly.

you used to stay around a lot when you were slightly younger, back when touch was innocent and there weren’t all these complicated layers to your relationship.

“can you handle that?”

his eyes roll back, “shut up,” sitting back in his spot on the couch. anticipating spending the night here rather than in his bed, desperate to prove that he could handle it.

“whatcha wanna do?” you sing, pursing your lips.

“i dunno,” he shrugs, “we could watch another movie?” knowing that ultimately, another movie would lead to you touching his thigh until he came or something.

“that’s boring,” scowling at his suggestion, “i mean.. we are stuck in here,” biting on your bottom lip, “let’s play a game,” you propose, cocking your head, “truth or dare.”

eddie groans, an unwilling participant in your silly little games.

“come on,” offering zero incentive for him to play, “it’ll be fun,” taking another swig of the surely luke-warm beer. “truth or dare?”

there is not a single bone in his body that wants to play with you. no doubt you’d have him confessing to something embarrassing or doing something dangerous or stupid.

“dare,” he says flatly, hoping you’ll dare him to jump out of the window or something.

“i dare you..” you ponder for only a second, “to take your shirt off.”

“wh-,” he starts, mouth falling open, “well i dare you to take your shirt off.”

“it’s not my turn, idiot,” pursing your lips, “off.. now.”

pouting your lips, watching carefully as he lifts his shirt off, tossing it to the other side of the room.

“alright,” honing in on this stupid game, “truth or dare?”

“dare.”

eddie’s eyes light up, “take your shirt off,” immediately getting his own back.

“you’re supposed to say i dare you before your dare,” tutting at his impatience, though you do as he says.

lifting your shirt over your head, revealing the lacy bra you had most definitely chosen on purpose. maybe this was your plan all along, waiting to get him alone to inflict your cruel wrath upon him.

he ogles just enough to not have you mention anything, diverting his attention back to whatever drivel was on the tv. desperate to just get over this dancing around each other and get to the inevitable.

“truth or dare?” you ask again, poking his leg with your foot.

“do we have to play?” eddie whines.

“yes.”

“okay truth,” he spits, leaning back against the cushions.

“why didn’t it work out with you and chrissy?”

he groans again, already sick of this, “we wanted different things,” different things being you, he means.

“like what? i thought you were testing the waters or whatever?” mocking him with his own words.

“you. you jerked me off and ruined my life forever, is that what you wanted me to say?”

you ponder in silence for a moment before that god awful smirk creeps onto your face, “actually yes, that’s exactly what i wanted you to say,” crossing your legs, all self-righteous and smug.

it’s not like you didn’t already know this, it was fairly obviously to anyone with eyes and two brain cells to rub together.

“your turn,” smiling pointedly at you, “truth or dare?”

you hum, contemplating your options, whatever you picked, he was surely going to make it worth his while.

“dare.”

“alright,” eddie sits up straight, poking his tongue into his cheek, “i dare you to run around outside in your underwear,” if you wanted to play stupid games, you could win stupid prizes too.

your smile grows, taking over your entire face, “fine,” standing from your spot on the floor, shimmying out of your jeans right in front of him.

he jumps up, rushing to the door as you bound outside, filling the silent trailer park with your squeals and squeaks.

eddie watches in quiet amazement, more focused on the way your tits move with every bound, your lacy panties framing your jiggling ass perfectly. he’s close to drooling, turning into a slobbering mess at the sight of you literally frolicking in your panties. he was a pathetic man, and he knew it.

you turn, running full speed back into the door, teeth chattering and your hands trembling from the cold. barrelling straight past him, back into the warmth, lashes coated in tiny, intricate snowflakes.

“fuck!” you screech, “you asshole,” picking up his discarded shirt to slip on instead of your own. he wishes you hadn’t. seeing you half naked in his shirt was far worse than seeing you actually naked.

eddie snickers, closing the door all the while trying to keep his composure.

a smirk erupts onto your face, something ticking away in your brain before you stomp over, grabbing his cheeks with your ice cold hands, grinning with pure self satisfaction.

he hollers, grabbing your wrists in defence. it becomes a flailing sort of dance, with you trying to keep your cold hands on his face and him fighting to get you away. a mixture of expletives fill the trailer, screeching over one another as you move around the room.

you trip over one of the discarded bottles on the floor, sending you flying back onto the couch, still breathlessly cursing him out.

eddie takes the only logical step, pouncing on top of your flailing body, bounding your arms together at the wrist, heaving for breath.

he freezes, the realisation that for once he had all the power dawning upon him, unequipped for the sudden change in dynamic.

he can feel you, underneath him, pressed into the couch by his body, sending shivers down his spine.

“you gonna do something or what?” you snark, no longer trying to wriggle free, accepting and even pleased in your defeat.

“yeah,” he adds meekly, despite not making an attempt to actually do something.

your brows thread together, knee sliding up the side of his body, spreading your legs further as his cock perks up in response.

holy fucking shit.

this was it.

or it could be it if he can gather his raucous thoughts enough to make a move.

eddie’s had sex before, multiple times in fact. he doesn’t understand why his hands aren’t doing the thing they should be, why he’s frozen in place, waiting for something to happen.

“we don’t have to, you know?”

fuck. he was going to fuck this up through sheer stupidity.

so instead of letting his brain worm his way out of what would probably be the best moment of his life, he thinks with his dick.

pressing his lips to yours in a hasty, rushed kiss. letting your hands free from his restraint, allowing you to weave your fingers through his hair just like he’d thought so much about.

his hands crawling underneath his shirt, touching your skin for what felt like the first time ever, gliding over your waist, appreciating the soft feel of your skin, lingering for too long.

he doesn’t want to take it off, how many times could he say he’d have sex with you with his shirt on?

you’d already stripped him out of his clothes, leaving nothing to the imagination as his hips grind down against yours, breathing shakily into your mouth.

your lips latch onto his, tongue sliding into his open mouth while your fingers pull gently at his curls.

even when eddie thinks he’s fully in control, you still take charge. rutting your hips upwards, separated by the thin layer of lace and his boxers that most definitely had a hole in them.

there’s a fifty percent chance that he’ll cum right away, already incredibly hard, teetering on the edge.

it’s genuinely incomprehensible that after months and months of longing and edging, this was finally happening. too caught up with trying to keep to your pace to really think about the implications on your relationship too much.

he hopes that this won’t change anything, at least not negatively anyway.

your hand slides down the tiny space left in between your bodies, toying with the waistband of his boxers before slipping in. unable to contain his groan from slipping out and into your mouth.

tugging the fabric down just enough to let his cock out, giving him no time to recover before your fist wraps around the base of his cock, pumping your fingers around the sensitive skin.

“fuck,” he breathes, bottom lip still latched onto yours. no hand had ever come close to yours, filling his thoughts since you’d touched him for the first time.

wayne’s ratty old couch wasn’t exactly the romantic location he’d envisioned this happening in, but beggars can’t be choosers and eddie certainly wasn’t going to complain.

he’s so dumbfounded that any of this is even happening, clumsily fumbling with the lace hem of your underwear, tugging them down haphazardly, with no care or grace.

his previous displays of desperation made sure you didn’t care about his composure, or else you wouldn’t be here.

your lips collide, all teeth and tongues and spit. eddie too focused on the feel of your hand around his cock to care.

he can feel your body shift from underneath, manoeuvring his cock to your soaked entrance, letting out the most ungodly noise as the tip glistens with your slick.

pressing your sweaty forehead against his, begging for his full attention, “look at me,” you insist, running your fingers around his cock, withholding him from full satisfaction.

he does as you ask, finding your wild-eyed gaze, holding it just long enough to slide into your slick cunt, grunting into the hot air that hung around the room.

“fuck,” you bite, weaving your fingers through his hair, tightening your things around his waist.

it’s dizzying. feeling you envelope around him just as he’d imagined countless times before. you’re so warm and so wet, so so wet. eddie can’t help but wonder if this is how you’d felt when you were grinding against him.

nothing could’ve ever prepared him for the fuzzy haze that’d encapsulate his brain, thoughts only of you and your body and your pussy.

his balls slap against your ass, slow and steady, hoping not to bust five seconds in. keeping his eyes on yours, encapsulated by the way they flit between his eyes and his lips.

heaven wouldn’t be too far off this, he thinks.

his rhythm is neither here nor there but he was trying, filling you to the hilt and then pulling back out again.

every soft, melodic gasp and cry you made was echoing through his brain, spurring him on to make them louder.

purely intoxicated with your pussy, gasping for more as he slams against your hips.

this wasn’t going to last long but he sure as shit was going to make it worthwhile.

you writhe underneath his body, fingernails grazing against his scalp, gentle and yet demanding.

“sh-shit eds,” you pant, jaw slack with your tongue practically lolling out of your head.

just hearing you moan his name has detrimental effects on his brain chemistry. his eyelids struggle, fluttering open just enough to meet your glossy eyes, pupils blown out and crazy. this was going to wreck him for the rest of his life, cursed forever by the image of you and your parted lips. the way you wail his name becoming a tune he’d revisit constantly.

he’d love to capture it, one day, if you’d let him.

no one would ever come close to you, your cunt and your god forsaken sighs. eddie promises to himself that if there’s a next time, he’s not leaving until you cum. unsure if he’d be able to control himself but more than willing to take that risk.

his thrusts become sporadic, losing his grip on reality as he teeters closer and closer to the edge. you can see it too, tugging gently on his hair to bring him back to this reality.

pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his mouth, too high off of your own pleasure to aim for accuracy.

eddie’s not sure if he prefers your goading or this softer touch, honestly neither were helping him not to bust his load right now.

“yeah?” you breathe, in response to his hoarse grunts, succumbing to the tightening pressure in his stomach, “you gonna cum?” sighing against his mouth.

he doesn’t want to, not really. hoping this’d last forever and ever because god knows if you’d ever let him touch you again.

hoping desperately to have not wasted his one and only time buried inside of you by cumming in five minutes flat.

but he is going to cum, in fact, he’s dangerously close to doing so immediately. the way you squeeze and tighten around him only accelerating the inevitable, his toes curling and mouth running dry.

he was seeing stars, dancing around the inside of his eyelids. woozy on adrenaline as he pathetically ruts his hips into yours for a final few lousy strokes.

“oh fuck,” eddie rushes, “no- fuck i’m cumming,” his cock slides out, thick ropes of his release covering not only your inner thighs but the couch too. collapsing atop of your perfect body, pinning you to the cushions as he attempts to gain some sort of semblance of control.

his face finds your chest, heaving for breath between your tits, his shirt pulled up just enough for your bra to peep underneath the hem.

“jesus christ,” words vibrating against your skin, almost purring at your fingers combing through his hair.

nothing he could ever dream would match up to that. the neurons in his brain had been frazzled, never to work or compute the way they should, ever again.

he places a measly kiss to your chest, looking up at you through his lashes, an insignificant gesture of appreciation that he felt he owed.

“you good?” you ask, lips twitching into a smile, unsure if you’re mocking him or genuinely concerned. either or would be fine.

“not really,” still floating up above the clouds.

“shut up,” definitely mocking, pulling tufts of his hair back to have him meet your eye fully, “you liked that?”

he nods enthusiastically, pining after your approval like the lovesick little loser he truly was. incredibly, you hadn’t run off into the storm, so maybe you had too.

“good,” abruptly letting go of his hair, his head falling back onto your chest, “get off me, i need a shower,” attempting to peel him off of your body.

eddie knows, or at least hopes, that your snippy, sarcastic comments were made out of love. you showed affection by being a bitch and he showed his by being a stumbling, pathetic loser.

if that was all he had to endure to get anywhere near your pussy again, he’d do it in a heartbeat. each and every time.

wayne’s knuckles wrap against his bedroom door, waking eddie from the already broken sleep he was suffering with, far too excitable to settle down properly. instead he’d spent his hours between drifting in and out of sleep and watching your dreamy face, trying to match his breaths to yours.

he slides out of bed, careful not to wake you, treading carefully to avoid the mountains of crap strewn across the floor.

“what the hell?” wayne whispers angrily, gesturing back to the living room he had neglected to clean. too caught up in you being in his shower and in his bed with his shirt on to care about empty beer bottles and discarded clothes.

“sorry,” eddie squirms, knowing he couldn’t exactly worm his way out of this one. “we had a few beers.. you know,” shrugging coyly. his uncle wasn’t stupid, he definitely did know.

wayne’s eyes narrow, flitting behind eddie to you, sleeping soundly in his bed. thankfully covered by the blanket as you slept in just his shirt.

“what happened there?” raising his brow at his inconspicuous nephew.

he shrugs, and then he grins. that great big toothy grin that wayne couldn’t mistake.

wayne shakes his head, tutting to himself as he backs away from the door, “clean that shit up before i wake up,” before disappearing into his own room.

eddie smiles to himself, sliding back into bed when you stir, humming softly, displeased to have been woken up so early.

“is he mad?” you mumble, muffled by the pillow.

“no.. no, not really,” eddie hushes, turning on his side to face you.

you’re still dozing, not bothering to open your eyes though he didn’t mind, you were peaceful this way, far calmer than your usual self.

“good,” settling into the pillow before slinging your leg over his thigh, pulling yourself closer, “he loves me too much to do anything anyway,” nestling your body into his side.

if the world ended tomorrow, eddie would die a happy man.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson being pathetic #eddie munson x reader

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logansdoll · 2 months

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jim beam

navigating life in a new universe was already a bit of a struggle for Logan... and Wade just had to make it worse (or far, far, far better) by giving him a "house-warming gift".

CW: suggestive, profanity, takes place after the events of Deadpool 3, Wade is actually really hard to write for, Logan deserves the world, comfort, angst if you squint, etc.

"Honey, I'm home!" Wade loudly sang, kicking open the door to Logan's apartment with a dramatic flourish.

"Fuck me," Logan groaned from his spot on the couch, closing his eyes and allowing his head to lull back with annoyance.

This defeated the entire purpose of why he got his own apartment in the first place.

To avoid these types of interactions with the most persistently, consistently annoying asshole in the entire multiverse.

"Now, now, is that any way to talk to the friend who's about to bring your long lost lover back from the dead?" Wade tutted, skipping into the living room, taking notice of the bottle of liquor resting in Logan's hand.

'So it's that kinda morning...'

"Jim Beam at 10 am on a Tuesday?" he noted, "Well, I guess it's five o'clock nowhere... so have at it."

"What did you just say?" Logan sat up straight, brows furrowed as he focused on Wade's previous statement.

"Alcoholics everywhere salute you for taking your liver where no organ has gone before."

"Wade."

"I'm honestly starting to believe you do it for the love of the game rather than the expositional, look how sad he is plot device the author is currently using... I mean, seriously? Can we skip past all this bullshit and get to the—"

Quickly, Logan grabbed him by the front of his suit, yanking him closer with an angrily confused expression.

"If anything besides a goddamn answer comes out of your mouth... I will stab you in the face," he growled, spelling out each syllable to further his point. "What the hell do you mean bring her back from the dead?"

To Logan, you were everything

The sun. The moon. The air. The clouds.

Despite seeing all the horrible thing he'd done, and knowing firsthand just how much of an asshole he could be, you still smiled at him.

No matter how many times he pushed you away, you were relentless.

Keeping his room together while he was away finding himself.

Making him meals when you noticed he he'd gone without eating.

Forcing him to take breathers after intense sessions in the Danger Room.

For the longest, he couldn't wrap his head around someone like you caring about a jackass like him.

Until he got fed up and just outright asked.

But, as if nothing, you answered:

"Your past makes think you don't deserve love, Logan," you started, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned up against the counter. "You storm around here with a rude ass attitude and a smart mouth hoping to convince me of that... but if anything, you're only making it worse for yourself."

You smiled, looking up at him with a glint in your eye that sent shocks running down his spine.

"Because in my heart of hearts I know you're a man who wants care and attention, just like everybody else."

With a chuckle, you rested a hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"And I'll keep shovin' dinners down your throat until you realize that."

Despite having everyone else fooled, you saw right through him, and true to your word, you didn't give up.

With every made bed, every meal, every conversation, Logan felt himself falling deeper into your charm, and over a glass of Jim Beam did he finally realize that he was in love with you.

But, like everything else he cared about in this world, you were taken away from him.

Unable to find your body in the rubble of the mansion, he looked high and low, quite literally going to the ends of the Earth to find you.

But after years of searching with nothing to show for it, he returned to the bottle, drowning himself in sorrow and regret.

Or, at least... until now.

"Well, according to the manual, she's not exactly dead, but she is unconscious," Wade answered, matter-of-factly.

"Unconscious?" Logan's brows furrowed, still quite confused.

Freeing himself from the man's grip, Wade stood up, going back around the couch and pulling out a small tablet from his pocket.

"See, I've noticed your humble abode could use a little sprucing, so I went back to our buddies at the TVA and kindly reminded them that you saved the multiverse and, godammnit, you deserve a reward."

"Get to the fuckin' point, jackass," Logan spat, turning to face him.

"So they sent some men back to your universe and found your girl!" Wade cheered, opening up a portal and reaching his hand in, pulling out a cryo-chamber with you inside.

The moment Logan's eyes met your sleeping face, all color and vibrancy seemed to return to the world.

He was at a loss for words.

You were here... not some dream or hallucination of guilt... but actually, truly, physically here.

"Apparently, some science fuckers were keeping her in a black site and testing to see how long she could go without aging. I won't bore you with the details," Wade explained, pulling out a small knife from his boot. "Now, let's break this bad boy open and meet the future Mrs. Wolverine!"

Before Logan could stop him, Wade stabbed the keypad at the side of the chamber, opening the door and sending you falling forward.

In an instant, Logan dropped his bottle and leaped over the couch, catching you just before you could face-plant on the hardwood floor.

"Watch it!" Logan roared, less than happy that you'd only been there for about three minutes and Wade had already almost broken your nose.

"I am so sorry!" Wade gasped, his hands slapping his cheeks in shock. "I didn't think she'd actually fall out the chamber when they told me she'd fall out the chamber... Nice save, though, Romeo."

Turning you over, Logan cupped your cheek, the chill of your skin already beginning to warm.

But you were still out cold, limp in his grasp as he held you close to his chest.

"She's not waking up..." Logan noticed, brows furrowed. "Why the hell isn't she waking up?"

"Easy there, tiger. They told me how long it takes varies from person to person," Wade assured, shutting the portal. "Some take minutes, others hours. It could be a couple of days before she even opens her eyes."

An expression of solemnity slid over Logan's face as he gazed over yours, your skin still so flesh colored, it looked as if you were sleeping.

Just as soft and tender as he remembered.

And he had full intentions on keeping it that way.

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, he ghosted his hand over your cheek.

In that moment, he swore to himself that he'd never leave you again.

He'd be a friend, a bodyguard, a lover, whatever you wanted, but no matter his title, anything that wanted to harm you would have to do so over his dead body.

And even then he'd force himself to get back up and fight.

This world was giving him a second chance at life, a second chance at a life with you, and he'd be damned if he let anything ruin it.

Suddenly, you took in an aggressive gasp, scaring the shit out of Wade as your eyes snapped open.

"Holy fucking shit nuggets!" he jolted, jumping from his spot across he room as Logan allowed his shoulders to sink, mumbling a quiet thanks to whatever god or deity brought you back to him.

Feeling a strong set of arms cradling you, you looked up, solace setting into your bones at the sight of the familiar man before you, who was unable to stop the few joyful tears escaping his eyes.

"Logan—"

Without a moment's hesitation, his lips were on yours, making up for what felt like a lifetime of loss by dumping all of his passion, all of his love, all of his devotion into one Earth shattering kiss.

You melted into it seamlessly, your hand finding home in his scruffy hair as he pulled you flush against him, clutching you with a death grip.

Donning a cheeky smile under his mask, Wade turned away to give you both a moment, thought not without making a crude sex gesture behind his back.

'I don't think Miss (Y/N)/Girl Sitting At Home Reading This is gonna be able to walk tomorrow...'

With a gasp, the two of you separated, Logan's hand raising to cup your cheek, relishing how easily you leaned into him.

"(y/n)... I thought I lost you," he panted, his eyes scouring over your face, committing every detail to memory.

"For a while, you did," you sighed with a grin, carding a hand through the few gray strands in his hair, before comparing them to your own. "Time looks good on you."

He chuckled, quietly relieved you still found him attractive after all these years.

Sitting up, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled the man into a bone crushing hug, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck.

"I'm not really sure what happened... or how I'm alive..." you weakly laughed, starting to get choked up. "But I know that if you go out drinking without me ever again, I'm putting your head on a spike."

Instantly, Logan's arms wrapped around your waist, holding you reverently as if he let go for one moment, the powers that be would part him from you.

"I swear on my life... I'll never let anyone hurt you again."

#james howlett #james howlett x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #wolverine x reader #x men #x men x reader #wolverine

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ramonathinks · 2 months

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Fuck it, Guess We Both Ain't Shit — GOJO

summary: as meg said, “quit asking when imma leave my n*gga, knowin’ you still with your bitch”

cw// 18+, MDNI cheating, sex, fingering, oral, risky sex, geto slander, squirting, choking, slight impact play, sappy moments,

tagging -> @satorubi @sunasbon haha. dividers by @/cafekitsune word counter: 1.1k just a little thirst/drabble :p

“he’s your best friend” this was a conversation almost twice a week, with him on his knees looking right at your puffy clit, spreading your legs wide enough so he can fit through, though just barely.

“and she’s your roommate” he huffs out a laugh, kissing the bud and you flinch back, legs trembling.

“ah– fuck… fuck you.” even with saying that, you open your legs more, waiting and wanting for him to have his fill of you. his fingers, his tongue, his cock was all you could think of most days and you hated yourself for it.

“me and suguru always loved to share our toys. but you just want me all to yourself right? only me, hm? so why not just break up with him?” gojo’s fingers are on your clit but they roam, teasing your slit — almost inside but steadily running up and down, your breathing hitched and shook as you spoke.

“why not break up with her?” you counter, grinding your hips to his palm. you hated how he always made you fight to get a touch from him.

“nah baby, tell me… humor me? make me understand or I’ll stop,” he looks in your eyes, stares deep into them until all you can see is blue surrounding you. “i won’t let you cum.” he’s doing the thing now to tempt you…sliding his fingers inside, curves them just well enough that you can taste your orgasm and pull away.

“he’s just …” your throat closes up but he slows his pace, he wants to know the truth… the rivalry he and Suguru had was always different, something twisted in his head; best friends but deeper and worse. it wasn't hatred and it wasn't that he even wanted to be him, but he wanted everything that suguru had and it was torture... evident that he was still a child at heart. a selfish needy child.

“he can’t make me cum, okay? especially…” you’re gasping. “especially like you do, satoru. he’s not as big and he just doesn’t feel right… i..--”

he’s shoving his face into your pussy, slick and saliva sliding down his face as he eats you out. throwing your leg over his shoulder for a better taste. “actually, i don’t think i can wait any longer, need to be inside you.” his shirt's on the floor and he's smiling at you, sliding the head of his cock around your slit.

"so why me over her?" you ask, gasping when he settles inside of you and he hisses feeling your tightness around him.

“this fucking cunt is the reason, so fucking pretty and perfect.” he says, with you squeezing him tight he feels like he’s going to cum, his cock twitching and your juices sliding down his length, sinking himself lower and fucking inside of you hard. you’re swatting his chest, overwhelmed at him hitting a particularly gooey part inside of you. “c’mon baby, i know you can take it for me. you always do, come on.” pressing his hand against your stomach to feel himself inside of you, you both smile. “fucking stuffing you, aren’t i?”

he sped up his pace, dragging himself in and out of your pussy so slow that it almost hurt whenever he slipped out and it made you wrap your legs around his waist and to hold him close against your chest. he slips out, slides in and his cock strokes your inner walls at a dangerous pace, his hand on your hip. he moves to kiss your lips and you turn your head, away from him.

“still won’t let me kiss you? that’s too far for you, hm? can’t be cheating if i haven’t kissed those pretty lips, is that what you think?” he’s laughing and it makes your chest hurt a bit at how mean he’s being. “those pretty lips suck my cock and you dirty those knees for me, but can’t kiss me… scared you’ll fall deeper?” his thrusts are harder and deeper, you’re gasping until he wraps a hand around your throat.

he slaps your throbbing cunt, once and watches the clear waterfall of your squirt drip like a faucet with a smirk, tapping the head of his cock on your slap, fascinated at how more comes out. there’s a smile on his lips as he fucks more of it out of you, rolling his hips enough that it angled his cock to a new position, the tip nudging that spot again and fucking it ever so slightly. your moans breathy and loud, as if you didn’t care who heard which made me laugh at you.

you’re dizzy and your body is humming, your mind so light that your thoughts are clouded with fantasies that won’t come true; him taking care of you and providing, not even just sex but more… your heart is thumping with excitement and awe, a droopy smile touches your lips. “do you really want me?” you sound far away and muffled, your tongue heavy. “or am I just another conquest for you, sa–toru..”

he sounds close, you can feel his body radiating heat against yours, a laugh on the tip of his tongue: “i never wanted anyone as badly as i want you, suguru has good taste, but i plan on making you mine.” he kisses the palm of your hand, peppering kisses up your arm until he’s at your shoulder, licking up your collarbone. his lips graze yours but he pulls away. “will you let me kiss you this once?”

“just this once.”

neither of you hear the bedroom door open, neither of you realize suguru is there, standing there and looking until he laughs. “here i was trying to be a good boyfriend and bring your favorite snacks since you've been sad all week and here’s satoru, who comes to see you before he even announces that he made it back from his trip and…” he laughs again, throwing the food on the floor. “and, you were only this sad because he was gone so why am i surprised that you’re fucking him?”

“sug–” you didn’t mean to, honestly… you regret not ending things but regardless if you did, getting with satoru after being with suguru would only raise the same questions.

“no.” he’s leaving, moving fast trying to get out of the door.

“please, suguru just listen.” it’s satoru who’s talking now and for a moment he does stop, turns around and he scoffs.

“he’ll break you, you know that? like he does with all the girls he’s been with.” he’s talking to you, looking over satoru’s shoulder and looking you in your eyes with a deep look of disgust and disappointment. then he’s looking at satoru, “you make me sick.” he’s huffing away, slamming the door when he leaves.

the permanent weight in your chest subsides and a rush of happiness comes for a split second, you even see satoru’s shoulders slump.

until your roommate comes in.

no part two.

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dcxdpdabbles · 5 months

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DCxDP Fanfic idea: Rude Kryptonian

Danny Fenton is prepared for a lot of things when Vlad calls his parents and asks to take his godson for a summer. Things would have gone differently if Danny's hero business hadn't made him a "troubled" kid. He was failing a lot of his classes, sleeping or ditching most classes and not to mention all the random injuries.

They were worried he was becoming some kind of gang member. (It hurt a little they assumed the worst of him and not worried that something bad was happening).

His dad was convinced that Vlad could somehow set him on the correct path.

Now Vlad had moved on from trying to be his stepdad and forced Danny to be his son, but that didn't mean Danny liked him. Or that he could forget what he put him through.

So he was less than happy to pack his bags and be driven to the airport to board Vlad's private jet. His parents lectured him the whole time, warning him to not be a bother to his uncle Vlad, and to behave. Jazz just looked anxious, practically begging her parents to change their mind.

They did not listen, and Danny was thrown onto the jet after getting past security. He was not surprised the plane went off course due to "mysterious" wealther a hour into the trip.

It was like they purposely flew into a thunderstorm, complete with harsh winds and rain. His plane crashed landed in the middle of nowhere thirty minutes later.

He was less surprised he was the only human on board - Vlad had tricked him once before with a ghost pilot. Why not again?- But at least no one, but Danny was hurt.

Jeez, couldn't Vlad think of anything more original? Then again, the definition of insanity is doing something over and over again, expecting different results.

Danny sat in his chair, having escaped the crash with only a few scrapes thanks to his powers, fuming at his parents and Vlad. He was so distracted he did not notice the hurried rescue team that surrounded the broken metal.

He did however notice the man who ripped off the top part of the jet, floating in the air in the most ridiculous outfit he's ever seen.

"Are you alright, son?"

"Are you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Look at you. Look at what you're wearing." Danny gestures to the stranger. He ignores how the stranger's blue eyes start to glow. "You can't honestly tell me you're alright in the head looking like that. "

The man frowns "You're not human"

"How dare you! I have rights!"

The stranger fumbles, looking suprised "no. No, I meant you're like me- a alien"

"I'm not illegal! I have papers!"

"Not that kind of alien-! I'm Kryptonian!" The man floats down to Stanford beside Danny's seat. He reaches out to carefully ripe away the metal trapping him. "I think you may be as well, based on your biology"

Danny squints "How do you know my biology?"

"I used my x-ray vision to-!" Danny gasps, reaching out to slap the man across the face before covering his body with his hands. The man seems more startled by the fact that he was able to push his face to the side and then the actual slap.

"Stanger danger! Creep! Fruit loop!" Danny cries, turning intangible and flying out of the wreckage. "Stay away from me!"

He flies at his top speed, ignoring the call from the man. He can feel him following, and yes, he may be faster than Danny, but he's also solid and visible. Danny uses his powers to his advantage, losing him after a twenty minute chase.

It's only after three days of trying to get home that Danny realizes he's futher away from home than he originally planned. As in an entirely different world? It feels like it since Amity Park doesn't exist, much less, his friends and family.

Thankfully, he finds a nice little city that reminds him of the ghost zone for him to rest in. His new neighbor is filled with colorful characters, and there always seems to ve something happening keeping him on his toes.

Maybe this summer won't be so bad after all.

Meanwhile, Clark is panicking that a new Kryptonian had fallen from the sky, crashing landing near Ma and Pa's place only to have the boy disrespect him and escape. Now it's a race against time to find him before it's too late.

Also he was a little mean.

But where would he go?

Gotham. Danny is in Gotham, and he's yelling at people who keep trying to spray chemicals at him. He's having the time of his life.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Rude Kryptonian #part 1 #dimension travel #Danny is nothing but sass and spite #Clark is not used to being bullied as Superman

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schizopositivity · 3 months

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My partner just showed me the strangest video that came up on their tiktok. The video was of a woman that said something along the lines of "Did you know all schizophrenic people smell bad? They just have a bad odor that is always present. Even if they shower, and use deodorant, they just smell bad constantly for their whole life."

And that video was stitched by some guy wearing scrubs who said something like "actually this is true, here is one article from the 70's of a psychiatrist who had noticed that a lot of his schizophrenic patients smelled bad". So, someone posing as a medical care worker saying this is true, but his only evidence is that one psychiatrist said this once. No trials, no real evidence, not even an attempt at an explanation on why they think every schizophrenic person just smells bad all the time.

But the most absurd part about this is that there wasn't a single comment disagreeing or asking for proof of this supposed phenomenon. It was just full of people saying "I knew a schizophrenic person and they always smelled bad!" or "I've noticed this too! They always just smell awful!"

There's so many things wrong with this. First off, they are being vague as hell, "smell bad" could mean many different types of smell, and can be caused by so many different things. Second, like I said, absolutely no proof at all, but they say it as if it is an undisputed fact. People are so quick to bully people with schizophrenia, that they don't even check that this is legit, or even sensical. Third, how do they think this would be true? You could argue that schizophrenic people are more likely to be homeless and not have access to showers or hygiene products. You could argue that schizophrenic people could be mentally ill to the point where they neglect their hygiene for long periods of time. But the first speaker went out of her way to clarify that the bad smell is there even after showering and deodorant. So do they think that this is an innate biological side effect of having schizophrenia? How would that even work? The more you think about this whole thing the less sense it makes.

This was just a ramble about a great example of how people with schizophrenia are consistently harassed and dehumanized. And no one will stand up for us, or even question it, because so many people view us as less than human. We deal with so much stigma that makes people believe we are dangerous, crazy, unintelligent, and a burden to the people around us. But that wasn't enough, so now we are all inherently stinky, just always smell bad, and they present that as a fact. It just goes to show how so many people don't care what we as schizophrenic people will think about it, or how it will affect us, because they simply do not care about us at all. They don't consider us as equal. As humans who are the ones experiencing the stigma along with our mental illness, and have to face each day with the weight of both on our shoulders. With no relief given to us from the people who have the privilege of not experiencing either one.

Not all schizophrenic people smell bad. That is just a lie that people are willing to believe because they already don't care about us as people.

#schizophrenia #mental illness #nd #neurodivergent #schizophrenic #psychosis #actuallyschizophrenic #mental health awareness #pseriouslypsychotic #schizoaffective disorder #schizo-spec #schizophrenia stigma #ableism #sanism

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foldingfittedsheets · 4 months

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What's your opinion on purple™ mattresses?

No one is allowed to come for me about this take, got it? This a safe place for my personal opinion which I was just asked for. Okay? If you disagree just move along. If you love your Purple I’m not saying that’s wrong.

So. I personally really dislike Purple. It’s not just Purple but they were one of the first bed in a box, for which they have much to answer for. Their catchy branding opened up a new type of mattress market. But making a bed cheap enough to roll up like that and still meet fire standard plus providing back support is just a unicorn.

As I previously mentioned I don’t think beds in boxes can provide good long term back support. But the target demographic of broke 20 somethings is robust enough to deal with the lack of back support for a while based on their general vitality.

However a huge part of my clientele when I sold beds were people returning their bed in a box, most frequently Purple, who had horrible experiences. So I’ll admit I got an extremely biased view of them from that standpoint.

But the really shady thing is that Purple won’t disclose their fire retardant. See, mattresses in the US (and many place internationally I think?) have to adhere to fire safety protocols. Why? Because before that was a thing beds would go up like bombs and were considered extremely dangerous in the event of a fire.

Most major bed brands use like Kevlar fibers. There’s chemical treatments that can work too and some folks get pretty worked up about it. The fact is that cheap mattresses basically always have a really dicey flame retardant which brings us to-

Fiberglass! Now, Purple, along with a ton of other bed in boxes, has had a slough of customers pissed off because they’d taken off the cover and suddenly all their stuff including bodies were covered in fiberglass. It honestly makes sense because they have to use something and at the price point it has to be cheap.

Now, Purple swears up and down that it doesn’t use fiberglass but really damningly they don’t say what they do use. A reputable company will just say what their flame retardant is because it’s common enough that consumers want to know.

Their insistence that it isn’t fiberglass while silent about its actual nature is highly suspect. I expect it’s either a thing so close to fiberglass that branding is the only thing keeping it separate or it’s a shady chemical they don’t want to divulge either.

TLDR: Not a brand I’d recommend.

#ask ffs #I’ve heard they have models now that don’t come in a box at higher price points and I haven’t felt one #this is mostly addressing my view of then from when I sold beds #bed talk

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saetoru · 1 year

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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。the dictionary definition of a rich boy

synopsis. that rich guy who won’t stop asking you out is your partner for this project—send help

contents. pre dating rich boy! gojo, college! au, implications of a zenin being pushy on the first date, satoru being distraught you went on a date lol, pre relationship shenanigans with the cutest loser boy !!

word count. 3.8k (it’s literally all just him being a handful)

notes. thank you niku my most cherished gojo stan for comming this (and giving me the most ridiculous tip) i adore you so much :,) mwah 💋

he’s late—gojo is late. in fact, he’s very late, by forty-five minutes and thirty-two seconds to be exact. you aren’t really the count-by-the-second type of person, but somehow when it comes to that irritating, smug, too-talkative brat that you’re stuck with…well, you can’t help but be petty and use the seconds against him too.

he shows up close to an hour after your agreed time, waltzing in with a grin on his face—and, oh, you should kill him. he has the audacity to send you a wink when he walks over, coming up to your table and pushing his sunglasses down his nose just a bit to look you in the eyes over the lenses.

what kind of person wears sunglasses indoors? surely only the kind that are nothing but trouble.

“aw, you’re here already,” gojo hums, “that excited to see me?”

“you’re late,” you spit.

“am i? i could have sworn—”

“now it’ll get dark by the time we get through what we planned for today,” you glare. he looks enthused, positively delighted by the statement—it’s almost as if you’ve offered him candy.

“well, then i’ll just have to walk you to your apartment,” he offers smoothly.

what a jackass. of course, just as expected, he’s still attempting to worm his way into your personal life (and likely your pants) in the most obnoxious of ways. over your dead body, however, will you ever allow him to know where you live, let alone accompany you on the way. you value your sanity, and having a conversation with gojo satoru longer than you absolutely have to seems like the most efficient way to fry every nerve and brain cell you have left.

“absolutely not,” you grit, “you can call me an uber. you pay.”

“alright,” he nods, “i’ll get an uber for you. but i’ll need your number to make sure you made it home safe. otherwise, what kind of partner would i be?”

typically, any normal pair of partners are meant to exchange numbers for a project—it would be the easiest form of communication, and more importantly, you can spam call if gojo decides not to carry his weight instead of just hoping and praying he checks his socials. but you can’t let him have your number—he’s not trustworthy enough for that. the last thing you need is him bombarding you with texts, or worse: calls, in the middle of work and class. so instead, you strictly inform him that any and all communication will occur via social media.

he pouts at that—it’s a cute pout, you have to admit. it’s slightly dangerous, too, because had you not had the self-control you do, you might have caved. but then he lights up at the prospect of you adding him back on socials.

i’ll get your number one of these days, he says confidently. his confidence is as aggravating as the way he clicks his pen in the middle of class. he still chooses to sit right beside you despite all the free and very available seats the entirety of the lecture hall has.

but no, he insists on sitting right next to you—and you? well, you have to hope you don’t get charged with homicide by the end of every class from the constant clicking he makes you endure. despite all that, gojo is surprisingly smart, which means your project might not be so doomed.

he’s annoyingly smart, actually—he never takes notes, and just when you think the professor has him cornered by asking him a question when he’s seemingly dozing off, he answers immediately with the correct answer.

you hate him.

“absolutely not happening,” you grumble, opening your laptop, “anyway i think we should start with—”

“well, i hate to inform you,” he sighs sadly as if it genuinely pains him to say this, “but i’ve actually deleted all my socials.”

“what?” your eye twitches.

“yeah,” he nods, “it’s a bit of a cleanse if you will. staring at your screen all day and finding value in fake posts is not good for mental health, you know? i’m trying to be more in tune with myself. it’s been a real self-journey.”

before the end of this project, you might either be a college dropout or an inmate at the county jail. you’re not sure, either is equally as possible.

“gojo satoru, i am sick of your games,” you spit, “we both know—”

“and i would hate not being in touch with my partner since it’s a crucial part of this project for us to work together,” he hums, something of a smug look plastered on his aggravatingly gorgeous face, “that thirty percent deduction for ineffective partner communication would be such a shame to get when we’re working so hard already on this, wouldn’t you agree?”

is he threatening you? for your number? with your grade? he is, you realize—and you clench your fist tightly around the phone in your hands as he eyes it with a knowing look on his face. he has you right where he wants you, whether you like it or not.

“you’re an asshole,” you spit.

“i’m a mental health advocate,” he gasps—he has the nerve to act offended, even as he’s so obviously enjoying working you up like this. you wish he’d drop dead immediately. maybe you could take his card from his wallet as his cold body lays lifeless on the table and order yourself a new laptop if he did—that would be ideal.

“i saw you post on your story last night—”

“you didn’t watch it,” he pouts, “i posted a shirtless gym selfie just for you—wait a second, you pay attention to my story, huh?” he cuts himself off with a smirk, wiggling his eyebrows at you, “c’mon, you don’t have to force yourself to skip them. you know you wanna watch them.”

“no, i don’t,” you seethe, “it was just the first one at the top. stop being self-important—”

“anyway,” he drawls, eyeing your phone again. you want to splash your coffee in his face. “i’ll need your number,” he sniffs, “the crushing disappointment of you skipping my story made me realize i’m too focused on getting social media validation, so i’m taking a break. it’s the best thing for me to do in my headspace right now. hope you understand.”

“are you kidding me?” you stare at him. he grins before shaking his head.

“i would never joke about mental health,” he says seriously—it’s not as serious as your desire to slap him, however.

“fine,” you take a long, slow sip of your coffee to calm down, “give me your phone.”

“oh, you’re gonna set your own contact?” he brightens, immediately handing you his phone. it’s brand new—the newest model, in fact. it’s barely been a few days since it dropped. truthfully, you’re not even sure why you’re shocked—of course, he, of all people, would upgrade immediately. “how intimate,” he gushes, “it’s almost like we’re going on a date—”

“do not text me outside of project purposes,” you interrupt, thrusting the phone back into his hands, “got it?”

“you got it,” he grins triumphantly.

—————

like all things he does, gojo finds a roundabout way to keep his word without actually keeping it. it’s his secret talent, you think—finding loopholes through all the technicalities of things.

hey when ur free can u read over my portion? i just finished

btw r u going to that frat party this wknd? u don’t seem the party type haha but u should come

i’ll introduce u to suguru! he’s my best friend he’s super nice u’ll like him

oh and when do u wanna meet this week? promise i’ll be on time this time ;)

you make sure to only respond to the questions regarding your project—just because he technically kept his word and started the conversation centered around the project before getting off topic doesn’t mean you have to indulge him. and the way he types is infuriatingly annoying—who shortens every possible word like that? only him, you think.

okay, maybe you’re just nitpicking now, but every time you see his name pop up on your screen, your mood sours tenfold. you decide to answer as dryly as possible.

k i’ll look. we meet same time as last.

the period at the end should add the perfect touch—you grin to yourself in pride at that one. instantly, bubbles pop up and indicate he’s typing again. your smile very quickly drops.

wow ur a rly dry texter aren’t u?

that’s ok i don’t judge

so how bout the party?

i can be ur escort ;)

it’ll be fun!

from his side of the screen, gojo watches as your contact shows notifications silenced at the bottom. he pouts to himself—no party, then, he thinks.

—————

gojo satoru, the guy who seemingly has everything he could ever want, likes you.

frankly, he’s not really sure why—at first, he finds you mildly amusing, and he thinks it’d be fun to have a short fling with you perhaps. somewhere along the line, however, that changes. he watches you dedicatedly take notes in class, no matter how tired you seem from work the night before. he notices the way you chew on your bottom lip when you’re really focused—it’s actually very cute, he thinks. and he’s entertained by the way you always have some smart little retort waiting on your tongue. you’re not boring—and more than anything, you leave him a little humbled. it’s refreshing, and he kind of likes it, if he’s being completely honest.

he’s never liked anyone before—it’s a weird feeling. at best, he’s had a crush where he could appreciate that someone is generally pleasing to the eye and has a personality that might mesh well with his, but he’s never yearned for someone before.

it just so happens to be his luck that the same person he wants more than anything in the entire world (for the first time ever, too) seems to hate his guts. it also happens to be that the same person he wants more than anything is currently getting asked out by some kid from the zenin family. right in front of him. and you’re saying yes.

why on earth would you say yes to a zenin of all people? don’t you value yourself?

gojo can admit that he’s had his fair share of heart robbing and tear inducing moments—he’s not exactly someone with the best track record for commitment, but at least he doesn’t use people for his own benefit. plus, he does, in fact, actually plan on committing to you. that zenin boy most certainly can’t be any good news if he’s anything like naoya, who gojo has met on a multitude of occasions, and knows very well is a scoundrel of a guy.

“see you at nine?” he hears the zenin (what was his name again?) ask you. you nod, smiling sweetly.

why don’t you smile sweetly at him like that? he buys you coffee every week. sure, he only gets to buy you the coffee because you have no choice but to meet him for the project, but he even offers to get you a slice of cake—you don’t ever accept, though, so he ends up eating both. but you do like coffee, very strong coffee that’s probably not sweet enough for his liking, but you enjoy the coffee he buys you nonetheless, and that has to count for something.

“sure, see you at nine,” you hum.

gojo watches in absolute shock (and abject horror) as you look down shyly. as soon as the zenin boy walks away, he stomps up to you.

“hey, what gives?” he asks petulantly, making your face paint on that irritated look that it always seems to adopt when he’s in the vicinity—how rude.

“what do you mean?” you ask tiredly, “i don’t speak toddler, so please use your words—”

“why’d you say yes to that zenin boy—”

“he has a name. it’s—”

“who cares what his name is? he’s an asshole! he won’t treat you right even if his mother’s life is on the line—”

“oh, and you would?” you raise an eyebrow, glaring at him. how is it his place to tell you who’d treat you right and who wouldn’t? how is it his place to even care?

“i would,” he gasps at the accusation, “you’d date a zenin but not me? how come?”

“because you’re annoying,” you counter like it’s obvious.

okay, now that is technically fair—gojo has heard his fair share of you’re annoying’s from people in his life. in fact, a good amount of them come from his own mother, but he’s also dashingly handsome, very good in bed, has soft hair, is tall and muscular, can buy you whatever you like, and can be smart and funny too if you really don’t care for those kinds of things. he’s the entire package and more. and more importantly, he’s not from the zenin family, and that automatically means you’ll actually be treated with an ounce of respect.

he looks at you incredulously, feelings a little hurt. “that’s not true! name one annoying thing i’ve done—”

“you laughed in the middle of me speaking in class.”

“that wasn’t at you! suguru showed me something funny on his phone—”

“and you took like twenty minutes in line ordering the most sweetest drink on the menu while i was running late—”

“you can’t use that against me, that’s not fair! i’m a paying customer, i should be able to get whatever i want. plus, it’s technically not my fault you were late.”

“you rubbed in the fact that you had a black card.”

“you mentioned it first!”

“you were late to our first meeting for the project.”

“okay, that was an honest mistake! people are allowed to make those, you know—”

“i don’t want to go out with you,” you say frustratedly, “and it’s really annoying when you act like a spoiled brat that can’t handle the word no and keep on insisting, okay? so leave me alone unless it’s to discuss our project—which weighs fifty-five percent of our grade, by the way, so don’t even think about getting lazy.”

he is not lazy, he wants to argue.

but before he can, you roll your eyes and take a step to walk around him, leaving him there to blink in shock. okay, he thinks with a huff, so you’re playing hard to get. that’s no matter, he’s good at the chase anyway.

—————

the date doesn’t seem to have gone well. gojo can tell because your eyes are slightly red and puffy, and you’re extra grouchy today in class. your professor seems to have noticed, too, because instead of calling on you today, she calls on gojo extra as a rare show of mercy.

gojo doesn’t mind—this class is surprisingly easy, and he’s bored half the time anyway. he might as well indulge the uptight professor in an ugly brown pencil skirt and answer her pretentious questions that aren’t as complex as she thinks they are.

“so,” he finally breaks the silence, “how was your date—”

“if you’re looking for a chance to say i told you so, just get it over with, you jerk,” you grumble. he raises his eyebrows in surprise before both hands go up in surrender.

“i wasn’t,” he says genuinely, “you just…uh…you look upset, is all.”

you hesitate for a short second, gauging his sincerity for a moment before sighing and slumping on the desk, cheek resting on your arm. gojo resists the urge to poke the soft flesh—it’ll probably make you mad, and you’re already in a bad mood.

“he was…pushy,” you say quietly, “i don’t really believe in taking things far on the first date. he didn’t like that.” instantly, his fists clench tightly, eyeing you from the side carefully, almost in concern. “nothing happened,” you wave off, “but he did make me feel disgusting,” you mutter.

“yeah, well, he is a zenin,” he points out, “they’re…well, my family’s known them for a while. my mom hates them.”

you look over at him in mild interest, raising an eyebrow. “don’t tell me there’s drama in the rich community,” you gasp, “i thought you all just came as one to sip fancy wine and laugh at the poor together.”

he snorts, throwing you a toothy grin that you think for a moment is kind of cute—but that doesn’t mean he’s any different from the rest of the rich folks. someone of gojo satoru’s caliber has no business mixing with someone of yours—it’s common knowledge. gojo has everything he wants, and if he doesn’t, it’s a simple matter of asking before it’s his. there’s simply no way you can mold into his world to be what he needs you to be, and when the time inevitably comes when he realizes you’re not what he wants, well…you’d like to save yourself the wounded pride and crushed soul while you can.

“sometimes we have fancy appetizers too with the wine,” he jokes, “don’t forget those.”

“oh, my apologies,” you chuckle. gojo likes it when you laugh, he decides. it looks much better than when you’re glum—he thinks seeing your lips quirked in anything other than a smile is a waste of your perfect features, and he can’t have that.

“my mom married my old man in this stupid arranged marriage or something,” he explains casually, like it’s just the norm. you suppose it is—for the rich, at least. you wonder briefly if gojo will have a marriage planned for his future, too, and you wonder if he’s okay with that. surely it’ll be some wealthy and fancy socialite of a girl that fits his family’s standards. someone who’s not you—not that you care anyway, you wouldn’t marry him regardless. “my grandma wanted her to marry the zenin, but she said no. said he treated her like a piece of meat every time they met, so she settled for my dad instead. lucky her, 'cause now i’m her son,” he beams.

settled—something about the way he says it makes you think his parents must not really care for each other as a husband and wife should. it makes you think briefly about what his childhood might’ve been like, not watching his parents happy and in love the way they should be. but still, the way gojo talks about his mother is fond, with a gentle smile on his face as he recalls the things she’s told him. you can’t help but smile a little too.

“i think that makes you the lucky one,” you snort, “you’d still be her son. just that you’d be a zenin.”

he crinkles his nose at the thought, dramatically shivering and making you giggle. “gross,” he gags.

“well, now you have her to thank,” you hum, “your dad would’ve been…whoever the zenin she was supposed to marry is.”

“yeah, well, trust me,” he mumbles, his smile dropping ever so slightly, “my old man’s not that big of an upgrade from a zenin. even my grandfather’s sick of him. imagine being such a douche, your own dad can’t stand you.”

you’re learning more about gojo in one sitting than you ever imagined (or planned) to learn—part of that is because he seems like he’s the type to overshare on the first meet; the other part…well, you have to be honest with yourself, it’s not exactly a bad pastime hearing him talk about himself. gojo is an odd piece of work, and you can’t say you hate learning about the little pieces that come together to make him so weird.

okay, perhaps weird is a bit rude, you think—he’s…unique.

“oh, so you’re the dictionary definition of a rich boy, huh?” you hum, resting your cheek on your hand as you sit up and face him—gojo, for a quick moment, feels his heart stutter when you talk to him like that: with your undivided attention like he’s the only one in the room.

“what makes you say that?”

“daddy issues is like…the first thing in the rich boy starter pack.”

he laughs at that, smooth and almost sweet—it’s a dangerous thing. it’s easy to attract you to him, like a bee to honey, with the way his lips curl like that, showing off his dimples. but the bees can easily turn into maggots—and you don’t want to find yourself as a dead carcass by the end of this.

“i don’t have daddy issues,” he says smoothly, “that old man should sleep with both eyes open. if anything, he has son issues.”

“you’re hands down the oddest person i have ever met,” you mumble.

“what was that? did you say hottest? yeah, i know—”

“shut up, jackass,” you scowl, shoving his shoulder when he leans closer with a bat of his lashes. he laughs, and so do you—and just for one, quick, momentary instance, gojo satoru is not so bad. dangerous and a bad choice maybe, a setup for a big mistake perhaps, something you should stay away from, in fact.

but not so bad.

“how about i show you what it’s like to go on a date with a gojo,” he grins, winking easily. he’s persistent—very persistent, you note. “you might like it a lot more than a zenin.”

“no, thank you,” you hold a hand up, “never going to happen.”

“never say never,” he hums, “you might eat your words.”

—————

“hey, satoru?”

“that’s not my name.”

“that actually is your name,” you say tiredly.

“hmph,” satoru rolls over, dramatically tugging the blankets over his body as he shuffles away from you, “not to you, it’s not.”

you sigh, pursing your lips at his antics. “oh my god. okay—hey, toru?” you correct yourself. and just like that, he turns back around, grinning brightly as he inches closer until his head is resting on your chest.

“yes, baby?” he says sweetly, earning a roll of your eyes as your fingers weave into his hair. it’s soft—you don’t think you ever want to let go.

“it’s way better dating a gojo, by the way,” you murmur, “than a zenin.”

“oh yeah?” he grins smugly, arm draping over your body as he kisses your jaw, “i told you it would be, didn’t i?”

“i haven’t dated other rich families to compare, though,” you tease, “you might get replaced.”

“unlikely,” he chuckles, “no one,” there’s a kiss to your jaw, “will love you,” another kiss to your cheek, “like me.”

finally, there’s a slow, soft kiss to your lips—and when he kisses you like that, you have no choice but to believe him.

satoru sooooo sends multiple texts back to back he just like me for real

#teepods.writings #fics.#rich boy! au #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you

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