Dumb Bitch

Alfred, folding laundry by himself: *humming softly*

Jason, walking by with his phone pressed to his ear: yeah- its gotta be hardcore though man, don't you pussy out on me. i wanna be fully knocked out, chloroformed and incapable of saving myself. this has to seem unplanned and violent to the max so i don't get yelled at.

Alfred: *slowly looks over at him*

Jason:, still on the phone: uh-huh- yeah, yea- i don't care if it's poison, as long as it doesn't kill me permanently then it's fine.

*notices Alfred and covers phone with his hand*

Jason, whispering: hey, psst! Alfie, do we have any more of those blueberry muffins you made?

Alfred, baffled, slightly concerned: ...i...believe there may be a few in the kitchen? if your brothers haven't polished them off in the night, that is.

Jason: perfect, thank you. *into the phone* yo, Eddie, you want me to bring you a muffin when we do this?

Alfred: *weighing the pros and cons of asking*

Alfred: ... *heavy sigh*

Alfred: who are you talking to?

Jason, glancing over again: hm? oh- just the Riddler.

Alfred:

Jason, unbothered: yeah B is trying to force me to attend some stupid benefit tonight and won't let me duck out, so i'm gonna get Riddler to show up and kidnap me before we go in.

Alfred, already resigned: didn't your father explicitly tell you all that faking kidnappings to get out of social events would go sorely punished from now on?

Jason, smugly holding up a finger: ah! you see, he said that about when we kidnap each other. nobody's had the balls to get a real rogue to do it, so he won't suspect i'm faking it. *into the phone, pointedly* not if Riddler mans-up and stops trying to treat me like i'm still Robin, anyway.

Alfred: ...and you think this is a safe idea? to hand yourself over to a criminal in such a manner?

Jason: meh. Nygma's always had a soft spot for us Robins, i'll be fine.

Alfred: and what makes you think i won't alert your father to these irresponsible plans?

Jason: *laughs loudly* yeah- yeah right, because you're a snitch, are you? c'mon Alfie, we know you better than that.

Jason: *continues to laugh as he leaves the room*

Alfred:

Alfred:

when one thinks of a nerd, you'd think it would be one of those musty guys that don't have time for hygiene because they're too busy studying for whatever the hell they're always talking about. their usual sayings, "bro, im so fucking cooked." or, "erm, actually!" well, satoru does say those things but he's also perverted in a way.

your first interaction was when you were assigned to a project together, choosing his place for the meet up. "oh! um, are you sure?" he nervously asked, feeling sweat form at the back of his neck.

you were gorgeous in anyone eyes, including his. and the last thing he needed was for you to see his room. because said room has shelves full of manga and figures with little to no clothes and body proportions you were unsure were anatomically correct.

you thought it was mad weird.

thankfully, he got rid of the figures when you got together. claiming that he sold them online, except for one that you had found stored away in a box under his bed. 

one with a sexual maid outfit and bunny ears. 

at first, you were fuming until you took a closer look. the doll looked almost . . . like you. same face, hair color, body type.

then, you were ordering an exact replica of the outfit it had on, slipping the frilly little thing over your body and positioning the bunny ears and little tail before sitting down on his bed, waiting patiently for him to return from his digimon trading game. 

"babe, should we order takeout-" his words died out on his tongue after his eyes landed on you. "oh.." his dick began hardening in his pants like a damn virgin.

the gooner doll was in your hands. you waved at him with it. 

he gulped. 

"what's with outfit, pretty?" 

"what's with this?"

"uh, well," he stuttered, his bag falling onto the floor. "you told me you sold all of them toru. why'd you lie to me?" you pouted.

there was no time to explain. his hands were on you in seconds, feeling you up even while shaking like a maniac. 

his fingers dug into your hips, holding you down his cock. 

"oh my god.. you look so hot like this."

he threw his head back onto the headboard, watching as you carefully sank down on him. "you should hah.. wear ngh.. more outfits like this." he grunted, shifting his hips to help you bounce up and down. 

"yeah?" 

"yeah!" fuck you feel so good.." satoru moaned, shifting his hands to rest on your waist instead, eyes set on you. or more at the way the bunny ears flopped with every thrust. "gonna explain why you kept that figure?" you gripped onto his shoulders.

satoru looked away, face drenched in embarrassment. "it reminded me of you.." he confessed. 

you hummed, kissing his nose. "I figured. weirdo."

"you dressed up for this weirdo." he moaned, eyes sliding down to take in the sight of his cock disappearing in and out of you. the plap plap plap of skin on skin would make you cringe any other day, but the way satoru's face was fully displaying arousal, you didn't mind it. 

"you're so loud." he says as if he wasn't the one whimpering. 

his hand traveled up to your breasts, squeezing over the clothed area before ripping off your top. 

"babe!" you gasped. "I just bought this." 

"yeah, I'll buy you even cuter sets. no way are we ever stopping this."

She's fat and gets the guy and no one bats an eye.

She's fat and the hottest chick in the sorority and that's normal.

She's fat and an actress and she gets good roles.

She's fat and she's funny and she has character depth and growth.

She's fat and the main character and no one mentions her weight once.

There is a finite amount of memory on any given device.

No matter how good your game is, players will want memory for other things on their devices.

"But can you feel it?" Post-phalloplasty sensation explained.

having wally wests’s hips slapping against your ass, cock drilling into you hard, but at a regular, human pace, not the harsh pace he’s got you so used to. he’s not going slow, he’s not even being gentle about it, but he’s not going as fast as he can, not wally fast. for any other guy this would’ve been okay, but you know your boyfriend can do better than that right now.

your back arches in hopes of getting a better angle, but it’s not enough, you need more friction. that’s when your hips start moving against his. you start fucking yourself back into him, until it’s finally you who’s taking control of the situation, his movements synchronised with your own, falling into a nice rhythm together. wally loves it. he loves seeing you use him for your own pleasure like that and the jiggle of your ass with every snap of his hips. 

still, it’s not enough for you. once a "faster" finally escapes your lips, he really goes faster. you try to keep moving your hips along with his, but it’s impossible to keep up with him once he starts picking up the pace, a pace only the fastest man alive can achieve. you’re only left to give in to the pleasure your speedster boyfriend provides.

you’re barely aware of what was going on inside your cunt anymore. the sensation of his cock dragging along your walls is not only mindnumbing, but also too fast for your brain to catch up on. the obscene sounds coming out only help heighten the sensation, the slaps of skin that should never come this rapidly, the wet sounds your combined juices make each time his cock slips in and out of you, and the small grunts of your boyfriend behind you. all of it plus the occasional slap of his balls against your clit—that also comes a lot more often at his speed—has you seeing stars already, but what finally drives you over the edge is when he starts vibrating his dick against your walls too.

you hear a “hm” out of wally once you’re coming on his cock, an amused hum by a clearly-too-pleased-with-himself boyfriend.