#which of course is something he does because what the fuck (i mean he says it in a cartoon friendly way but uh yeah)

[coca-lastic]

5 Green flags 🟩 VS 5 Red Flags 🟥

I'M BACK 👹

Well well, My last post about Keigo have lots of support from you all, and like I said, I'm willing to do a part 2 about Bakugo Katsuki sooo, here I am.

Tell me if you want a part 3 and which character you would like.

Let's start with his red flags. Let's be clear that Katsuki does have a few, it's true that it's nice to imagine him as an attentive boyfriend who takes the initiative, and I firmly believe that he would be like that, but that shouldn't hide the little things he has that can get on your nerves at the time of a fight.

Now, let's start listing his bad things:

1. He acts like you're a burden: I don't think he would do this on purpose, but he would. Comments like "What the fuck do you want now?", "Stop bothering me", "You're too intense", "Will you shut up?" can come up at the beginning of the relationship. Even to the point that you feel bad about his independent actions, as if you were just another thing on his list. Of course, deep down he doesn't consider you a burden, but he expresses himself as if you were one.

2. He doesn't open up to you: Katsuki has this constant thought that he can't be inferior, that he has to be the best and his feelings can be a difficult thing, and I think that in a relationship he feels a lot more pressure about all this to be strong and show you how tough he is. So I think that for a long time he won't tell you if something is wrong with him even if it's clear that something is wrong with him. This could just be something normal, but I add it as a red flag since a large part of Katsuki's life is clouded by those insecurities, so he doesn't tell you how he feels every time he sees Deku, or how he was in training, or how he felt when he won something, because if he does, his facade will fall apart. This ends up being something that can affect the communication between you two.

3. He doesn't understand you: He tries, he really does, but he just has a hard time understanding when you feel bad. He's so used to minimizing what's happening to him that he doesn't understand why it affects you so much. So you might be crying in his arms, and he might be hugging you, but deep down he doesn't understand, and that's terrible in arguments, because he doesn't understand why you're angry or why you're sad or why you're disappointed, he tries to fix it but he doesn't understand the roots of the problem.

4. He's jealous: Like, not jealous to get insecure when he sees you with a friend, jealous to get furious when he sees you with another man. And that, OBVIOUSLY, brings problems. He trusts you, he doesn't trust them, he knows you're hot and he also knows that the other jerks know it. So don't doubt that he's going to complain to you repeatedly that a certain person shouldn't be so close to you, or that he doesn't get along very well with a certain friend.

5. His anger: In the anime we can already see that he is a little bit... impatient. He tries to control himself with you, he truly loves you and treats you with his best version, but there are times when you simply act in a bad way, I mean, you also have your red flags, and that makes him angry, and you too, then you fight. A lot. For a long time. A lot of yelling. And probably a lot of painful words that he doesn't really feel, but says them, because his fury is faster to speak than to think, analyze and meditate.

Now, like every person, he has his flaws and his virtues. He has things to improve and things that you should love, because they are incredible.

So let's see what those good sides are and let's see which side of his personality ends up winning, let's see the second side of his furious personality.

1. He doesn't talk, he acts: Maybe he doesn't open up to you as much as he should, but he decides to make you feel comfortable by letting you know that he loves you through more practical methods. Are you hungry? He cooks, are you sick? He takes care of you, do you want a snack? He buys it. Because actions are worth more than words, so he decides to act, he decides to give you what you want, and consider yourself lucky because you are the only one who sees his helpful side.

2. He puts you first: If his friends invited him out to eat something, he won't care if you sent him a text telling him to go with you to buy something. If his mother told him she was going to celebrate a birthday with the family, he'll run away because you asked him to bring you some chocolates. Because he knows that if you love someone, you're not going to replace them with the smallest things, so if he has to make a decision that involves you, you'll always be the right answer.

3. He is not ashamed to show you off, he loves to do it: You are also part of his achievements, and being the show-off that he is, he will show you off. God, he has a sexy, smart, strong, kind and hot girlfriend, he has to show you and show them that you two are together, that he is a lucky and happy man.

4. He knows you: I think this is important, but not all men do it, in fact those who do are very few. Because not all of them observe you, remember, learn and please you, but Katsuki does. He is observant and knows how to listen, maybe he doesn't understand perfectly why you feel so much, why you get excited and sad about small things, but he knows that you do it, he knows how you feel, he knows how you reacts, he knows what you like and how he knows you, he knows how to please you, he knows how to make you happy with a gift, he knows how to excite you, he knows how to make you laugh and he knows how to make you feel loved.

5. You're part of his future: If he sees himself as a great hero, he sees you by his side, making and fulfilling your dream. Holding your hand. Kissing you. Hugging you. Caressing you. That's what he sees. Maybe two house, or a single one, whatever you want, maybe 2 children, or maybe none, just a pet, maybe a red car, or maybe a black car, but within all those variables there is one constant: you.

Sorry, this doesn't match your way of seeing Katsuki. Remember that he is still a character that each one sees and imagines in their own way, but I try to do it in a way that everyone feels comfortable.

Now, did the 🟩 flags or the 🟥 flags win?

[hellonerf]

endless insanity incoherent shit about ame and love and family(featuring england and cana a bit specifically sorry france i actually do have thoughts about that there but i'm lazy and tired and this is incoherent already)(it didn't start off like that this is honestly like some stream of thought shit hence the incoherence)

some shit when i think about. sorry. colonial ame extremely upset tantrums theres no way england didnt hit him or spank him which would just upset ame more. ame would sulk and wish for england to drop dead because theres not much else he can say or do about the frustration. cana goody two shoes kid would be like why do you have to act out like that so much... ame immediate rage. probably hits cana like GO CRY ABOUT IT!!! and cana cries and then england walks in like America!!! and it just gets worse. but in the end when england has to leave again ame still clings and cries after england is saying his goodbyes. england does feel that he cares about ame deeply, so he does try to show his affection. theres some gap here between the care he shows and his "responsibility as a caretaker" if you will... and he's like a teen dad at this point? with his own shitload of baggage and ideas on responsibility from that baggage. man this family can be so interesting. i love tension

of course. this is just my crazythinking that in situations where, you could say, england's parenting was abusive of sorts, specifically in the physical way, to punish tantrums or etc... i think cana would be inclined to try to play polite kid to avoid punishment. and so he would feel maybe more vindicated? that he's the good example. in this it creates kind of a chasm between england/cana and ame. (why i think mapletea would just drive ame crazy wall smashing head insane, besides that ame already feels jealous/insecure like that anyways no matter what) this feeling is pushed by the revolution where ame and england are Like That, and here again cana sides with england(he's not Fully in it but he does technically side with england, and ame definitely views it like that). to him this is proof... of what you ask? i don't know..... that period where he was on decidedly bad terms with both of them, i always think he's like teenage-losing it about it. won't show it or at least will try not to of course, but it's genuinely something that eats at him so hard. (ame voice Nobody loves me. Everyone should love me. i could probably make that happen.) and ame decides things like that first and foremost with personal relations. this is specific, but im like, i think it's a mental testing he does on people. example, completely without their knowledge, someone's random act can register in his brain as an opposition to him, because his mind decided that's what it means.(somewhere subconscious). so for some time i'd imagine in his mind, that cana and england hated him, or looked down on him, or expected him to wind up dead anyways. ame is never not looking for approval and this fuels that sooooo much. it's like spite and anger and crying and stomping on the ground and in a way grieving. he's staring at the sky like it's unfair. they don't want me in their life. because i'm better than them. i hate them so much.(he wouldn't say it like this to other people, hate is a strong word, and i wouldn't say he hates them here either)

despite his bravado of "whaat? everyone likes me right?" the mental cogs are stuck here no matter what he says. cana loves him, even if it's so frustrating to, cana cares about him deeply. it fucks with ame's brain but he knows this deep down, that cana does love and care about him. at some point too he knows the same for england. but i also think he's like, specifically with cana too when he's specifically being really cynical about relations is like, "oh and he's only around... cause he has to be..." and ame wouldn't entirely be wrong there. and cana would argue so what! do you need a cosmic soulmate love to prove something? and ame is like (yeah i kinda do....). love can't just exist for you right here right now?! cana's love is "invalidated" in this sense. and also it hurts his brain too much to really think about the complexities in his relationship to both england and cana. that they really did care about him, but it's not easy. (hurts his brain... like why is interaction so stressful? why is it complicated? why can't people just go i love you and the end?). ame is not a romantic person but i think his view on love can get so fantastical like this. (he wants to be the one proposed to awwww omg you guysss...) at the same time it's a very simple view on love. he doesn't want to end up humiliated and is willing to humiliate others to avoid it. if love is true then there is One True Love... For him... JK! NOT FOR HIM!(slurps soda) who needs that shyit!!!(eats burger). a lot of things he can't/really doesn't want to accept. this is why i'd say anytime he ever felt feelings significant enough that even he would call it love it was mindnumbingly overwhelming. putting his eggs in one basket... don't fail me now!!! (and i always think none of his relationships are stable. duh. so). i like fics where ame is made to be like a crazy ex girlfriend. because he would. rather than love as a constant thing to do it sometimes feels more like an achievement or endpoint for him. something that happens at the end of movies lol... if love was happening REALTIME it'd be surreal for him to process. and like true genuine love not his fake idea of what love looks like

[hecksupremechips]

Girl like. The reason he said "this is how it should be" and faced death with a smile....is cuz he wanted to die. For 2 years he sat there thinking he was worthless and deserved to die. If he hadn’t be shot, his death would’ve been suicide, he was fully planning to die in a gutter somewhere undetected. When saying "this is how it should be" hes literally saying "don’t cry because I’m dying, my death is a good thing actually because I fucking suck and you are better off without me". I don’t think that’s badass even slightly, it’s actually really sad and really shitty. Shinjiro is so convinced that he deserves to die and hates the idea of anyone giving a shit about him because he literally can’t wrap his mind around the idea that he will be missed when he’s gone, that his death is a bad thing actually. And his last words were meant to be comforting because he fully did not intend for anyone to be there when he died, he intended to die alone, so he says them as a reminder that he’s not worth crying over

Personally, if it were me, if I was holding my dying best friend in my arms who was deeply depressed and suicidal and he said "this is how it should be" uh. I wouldn’t admire him for it??? Like am I losing my mind when I say the way this game handles Shinji is bad or is anyone else seeing this too 😰

[ectopuppy]

god the tonal whiplash in this series makes me lose my mind

like this alien dude in the nullvoid talkin about how some guy has taken control of the guardians and is like forcing everyone into mines to do slave labor and shit but then the guy in question is fuckin... dr animo

you know

this guy ^

except hes fuckin jacked as shit now and floating around the nullvoid commiting war crimes shirtless at all times

[asilosmagdalena]

This email from when I had the Death Grips ticket in my cart but didn't check out yet....

Kyaaa! >_< Don't leave ^_^ Death Grips ^_^ Waiting! O_o :3c

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ BURNER ACCOUNTS — GOJO SATORU.

contents. fem! reader, loser ex-boyfriend! satoru, exes to lovers, college! au, satoru making burners to watch your stories, miscommunications—satoru is not perfect but he’s trying okay?, gossip icons shoko & suguru <3, i had a silly idea and it turned into 2.6k words my bad

there’s a peculiar account watching your instagram stories—@user273582838, to be exact. you don’t think it’s a very well timed coincidence seeing as you and satoru have just broken up—so you decide to do some digging. 

which of course, means enlisting the help of shoko.

“i think satoru is stalking me,” you mumble, making her pause in the middle of sipping on her energy drink—for a med student, her habits don’t seem every healthy. this is her third one of the day.

“okay,” she nods, “i wouldn’t put it past him, but what makes you say that?”

“look,” you turn your phone to face her, the blank, anonymous instagram account right there on the list of users who have viewed your story. she crinkles her brows, blinking for a moment before humming.

“that definitely seems like something he’d do,” she nods—and then, “i have an idea.”

“okay,” you brighten, nodding enthusiastically, “what’s the plan?”

“try and log in with that user.”

“shoko,” you look at her like she’s grown two heads. maybe the lack of sleep is finally getting to her—no amount of energy drinks can save her at this point. “we don’t have the password—”

“—and that, dummy,” she rolls her eyes, making you scowl at the name, “is why we click forgot my password and see the last four digits of the phone number that registered the account. if it’s satoru’s number, we’ll know.”

okay—you take it back. shoko is a genius and a full-blown brilliant mastermind that you could never hope to come close to. you’re glad you chose her to help—you’re even more glad she agreed because you would not have thought of that. this is fantastic. a fool-proof plan. 

you grin wide, eyes lighting up as you gasp, “shoko! you’re so smart, that’s a great idea!”

“i know,” she grumbles, “took you long enough to notice.”

ignoring her, you quickly pull out your phone and try to log onto the account, typing user273582838 into the username box and clicking forgot my password. shoko is hovering over your shoulder, and your breath is held as you wait for the page to load and the number to pop up. within just a few seconds, the first few digits are censored with asterisks, but the last four show, and—

yeah. it’s satoru’s fucking number. just as you suspected—you and shoko scoff together at the same time, rolling your eyes. 

“well,” you look at her, lips pursed in irritation—of course, satoru refuses to give you space and leave you alone after your break up (which was his fault, might you add), “what now?”

“send the verification code to his number,” she presses, “it’ll definitely spook him when he sees.”

she’s so good at what she does, you think in awe, staring at her with heart-eyes. nodding quickly, you press send code. 

hopefully, that’ll give satoru the heart attack you want it to.

———

satoru stares at his screen in abject horror—who could be trying to log into his burner account? the only person who should possibly stumble across it is you, but surely you’re not closely inspecting your story viewers, are you? so then, who could be trying to log onto the instagram account of @user273582838?

“suguru,” he says in a trance, “are you trying to log onto the burner?”

“are you bringing that shit up again?” suguru grumbles, controller in hand as he pays attention to the screen, “i told you that was a stupid idea. a pathetic one too—”

“well, i didn’t want to keep waiting for you to send screenshots to see the stories—”

“you’re a fucking loser, do you know that? pathetic,” suguru reiterates. “move on.”

“no,” satoru hisses in disbelief, “why would i do that? now, was that you or not? you’re the only other person who knows the user.”

“as if i care to log onto your loser burner account,” suguru snorts, shaking his head in amusement. he beats satoru’s high score, turning to give him a sly grin as he adds, “i wasn’t removed, so i can view the stories all i want.”

“you’re a jerk, you know that?” satoru grunts, crossing his arms and pouting, “i’m having the worst heartbreak of my life, and you—”

“who’s fault is it that you’re dumped?”

satoru deflates. 

okay, so he supposedly hasn’t been the best boyfriend. it’s not that satoru isn’t helplessly committed to you—he’s so sickeningly obsessed with you, it’s actually a bit unhealthy. suguru says so, at least. but satoru is…well, satoru, and he doesn’t always seem to take things as seriously as most people would hope. 

evidently, that includes your relationship—though, he does insist on disagreeing on that. according to you, he doesn’t take you on dates often enough, and sometimes he flirts back with random strangers. that’s not true—he’s simply a bit of a tease and enjoys it when you’re jealous, but he doesn’t flirt back. that’s outrageous. you’ve even claimed he’s mean about it and makes a joke out of it all—satoru would never be mean on purpose; he only teases because the banter is always endearing. 

but, unfortunately, you don’t seem to see it the way he does, and now he’s woefully single and cold and alone in bed. no cuddles, no goodnight kisses, and no head scratches. 

life is so cruel sometimes. 

“suguru,” he says in distress, “i’m serious. someone’s trying to hack my burner—who could it be?”

“hmm, i don’t know…maybe the one and only person who would notice the account in the first place?”

“but why try and log in if the password is unknown?”

suguru looks at satoru like he’s stupid—apparently, he is because he’s not putting two and two together. 

“maybe because sending a verification code shows the last four digits of the registered phone number? you’ve probably been caught, you idiot.”

satoru pales at that—he didn’t think about that. it slipped his mind completely. fuck, he should’ve used a burner email instead. he stares down at his phone numbly—yeah, he thinks, he’s screwed. 

———

after two days of continuous log in attempts into satoru’s burner account—it’s only just to spook him extra—you finally decide to confront him. 

we need to talk. is all you send him. 

the three bubbles appear on his end multiple times before disappearing—you and shoko get a good cackle out of that and laugh at him for a bit before he finally answers. 

miss me already? knew it ;)

wow. what a dickhead. 

so, because you can be equally as much of a prick, you send him a screenshot of his phone number on the log in page followed by a message that says: no. it’s so you can explain this. 

the three dots show up again for a few minutes before he finally responds with: okay. you caught me. when do you wanna meet?

well, that was easy. satoru is the type to not go down without a fight no matter how cornered he is—he’s stubborn and annoying like that. you turn to shoko for help.

“meet him now,” shoko crosses her arms, “don’t give him time to come up with some ridiculous excuse.”

“what excuse could he possibly come up with?” you snort, “that he was possessed and the evil spirit in his mind made him stalk his ex like a loser?”

“true,” she concedes, taking a sip from her energy drink—seriously, how many of these does this girl drink in a day? “i just want to know what happens,” she shrugs, “so do it now.”

of course, as on brand as ever, shoko is merely in it for the drama. you roll your eyes before sighing and nodding. 

“okay,” you huff. 

meet me at my place. now.

on my way, he sends back almost instantly. 

“he’s probably just excited to see you,” shoko snorts, “like the loser he is.”

“you’re probably right,” you purse your lips in exasperation. in all your time knowing him, you’ve definitely realized that satoru is definitely…well, a case. 

———

“hey,” shoko whispers to suguru through the phone, walking out your door so you can prepare to confront satoru. “did you know satoru’s been stalking—”

“—on a burner account? yeah, i know.”

okay, she frowns to herself, that was no fun at all. suguru is already aware of the drama. but that’s no matter—surely, he can’t possibly already know that satoru has been invited over to be scolded. 

“yeah, well,” she says smugly, “did you know he’s actually on his way over to—”

“—get yelled at? yeah, i’m aware. he called me panicked. what a fucking loser.”

“okay, well since you’re up to speed,” shoko grumbles bitterly, rolling her eyes. she was supposed to be the knight in shining armor with the juicy updates—but evidently, satoru is pathetic enough to already cry to suguru about his dilemma. “wanna meet up and get sushi nearby? i bet they’ll get back together in twenty minutes.”

“i bet ten. loser pays for the food?”

“you’ve got yourself a deal.”

———

satoru sits on your couch in shame, bouncing his leg nervously as you sit on the opposite end with your arms crossed and brow raised. 

it’s quiet. he doesn’t have the guts to say anything, waiting for you to break the silence. maybe you’re not that mad.

“so,” you start, “it’s nice to finally meet you, user273582838.”

he rubs his neck awkwardly, chuckling through his nerves as he mumbles, “oh, hey there! it’s a small world, huh?”

“satoru.”

yeah, never mind. you seem pretty mad. 

“okay, look,” he begins, “you can’t blame me. you dumped me, your sweet, loving, and unsuspecting boyfriend out of nowhere! i was heartbroken and shattered—and then you didn’t even give me a chance to work it out! i was not in the right headspace to make wise decisions so…so this is basically not my fault.”

that doesn’t seem to help his case—in fact, it only makes it worse. 

“so it’s my fault?”

“wha—no!” he says quickly, “no, definitely not.”

you sigh, rubbing your forehead in defeat as you mumble, “satoru, we are broken up for a reason. you can’t overstep and—”

“it’s a pretty stupid reason,” he grumbles under his breath, crossing his arms and frowning. you glare at him from the side as you scoff in disbelief. 

“of course,” you chuckle dryly, “of course you would say that. nothing is ever serious enough to you—”

“it’s pretty fucking serious to me,” he spits, shooting you a look that tells you he’s just as shocked as you, “that’s obviously why i’m the one who’s still not moved on as easily as you. how seriously did you really take it?”

“that’s not fair,” you grit, “you made it abundantly clear you didn’t care enough, so why should i—”

“i fucking cared a shit ton,” he says incredulously, “that’s bullshit, and you know it—”

“don’t curse at me, satoru—”

“well, don’t accuse me of not caring when i clearly—”

“oh, yeah cause you cared so much when you were laughing with that waitress as she hit on you,” you seethe, throwing a pillow from your couch at him. he can catch it easily—you know this for sure, but he lets it hit him out of what you’re sure is at least a little consideration to your feelings. 

“i wasn’t laughing because i enjoyed it,” he crinkles his brows as if you’ve said the most ridiculous thing ever, “it was just funny because she was trying so hard. and you looked all cute when you got mad.”

“what kind of boyfriend enjoys watching his girlfriend get mad—”

“the kind of boyfriend who thinks his girlfriend is adorable when she’s mad—”

“yeah, well your idea of a date is going to the mall with shoko and suguru. what kind of date is that—”

“okay, i was a bit clueless sometimes, but you could’ve said something instead of just dumping me like i was some random guy in your dm’s—”

“you need to grow the fuck up, satoru—”

“now look at who's cursing!”

it’s silent—both you and him have your arms crossed and lips curled into scowls as you both glare at each other. you’re stubbornly convinced satoru doesn’t care as much as you do, and he’s firmly committed to the idea that you’re twisting him into some douche who doesn’t give two shits. 

it’s quiet like that for a bit before he deflates and slumps against the couch, rubbing his face as he groans. 

“look,” he starts, “i’m sorry. i never meant to make it seem like i enjoy attention from other girls, and i didn’t realize you wanted more dates. i’d have done things differently if you told me how you felt.”

he sounds sincere. and he’s looking at you with those eyes of his—god, those stupid little eyes that are so wide and blue and deep and full of love. even after that whole argument, satoru is clearly as painfully in love as ever. 

you sigh before playing with a loose thread on your sweatpants. 

“i…guess i could’ve talked it out first. i probably shouldn’t have skipped straight to breaking up,” you mutter, not meeting his eyes. 

satoru stares glumly at you from the corner of his eyes before he adds bitterly, “you don’t seem to miss me. not even a little.”

“toru,” you pinch your nose, “of course i miss you. i was not gonna be mopey on instagram, though—”

“doesn’t seem like it,” he huffs. he’s a bit hurt—you can tell because he’s not meeting your eyes, and he’s not got that playful little upward curl of his lips. 

you’re a bit weak, you realize—but you suppose you always have been for satoru, because you’re shuffling to his end of the couch and poking his cheek gently. 

“i miss you tons, y’know,” you murmur—you smile a little at his pout before adding, “i want more dates this time around. and stop letting girls get away with being shameless flirts.”

he finally meets your eyes—it’s like a child on christmas, the way his face lights up and his lips curl into an excited grin.

“you mean i get to be your boyfriend again?”

it’s cute—the way he asks to be your boyfriend and not if you’ll be his girlfriend. maybe you’ve been a bit unfair, maybe satoru has always cared deeply in his dumb little clueless way of his own. 

“fine,” you pretend to roll your eyes. he looks hopelessly excited as he wraps an arm around you and pulls you into his side, tucking you under his chin as he rests his cheek on your head. 

“you should really talk to me more,” he murmurs, “i’m…things fly over my head sometimes. i’m sorry.”

“i’m sorry too,” you admit, “i’ll talk to you—but you better listen to me if i do. don’t turn it into jokes.”

“i never turn things into jokes,” he grumbles petulantly, huffing to the side as you shoot him an unimpressed raise of your brow. “does this mean i can follow you again?”

“yes,” you snort.

“and you’ll follow back, right?”

“yes, satoru,” you sigh, shaking your head in amusement. he’s already back to being a handful—but you can admit you might have missed it just a bit. “but for the love of god, please delete that burner.”

“fine,” he pouts, tugging you closer. 

you giggle, he grins, and then you’re kissing—and everything feels as it should be. 

———

“they’re back together,” shoko says in disbelief, staring at your text. suguru groans, pausing mid bite as he rubs over his forehead in defeat. 

of course, you and satoru just have to make up in exactly fifteen minutes. not ten. not twenty. exactly fifteen. 

how considerate of you both. 

“are you kidding?” suguru grumbles, “so neither of us win.”

“guess not,” she says sourly, rolling her eyes. 

woefully, they both agree to split the check. 

suguru and shoko are so me and my friend every time our other friend argues with her boyfriend we deadass be making bets over when they make up and loser has to pay for boba LMAO

[chriscamopants]

MORE // MATT STURNIOLO

summery: you’ve been with your boyfriend for almost a year and although your sex life is good, you wanted more.

warnings: smut, overstimulation, fem!recieving, male!recieving, fingering, face sitting, softdom!reader, hair pulling kink…. point is it’s very smutty

You had been in an established relationship with Matt for almost a year and it’s been amazing. i mean he truly is the best boyfriend you’ve had.

he’s the most considerate person you’ve ever met, always prioritizing your happiness over anything else, and you love him for it.

Matt is also a huge romantic, writing you small notes and making it a point to have date nights weekly, kid is just obsessed with you, and if it’s not obvious enough already you feel the same about him.

which leads you to now, cuddling with him on his silky brown sheets as you do almost every night, your leg drawn out over his waist while the two of you watch batman (Matt’s idea not yours).

for whatever reason, you feel a familiar heat form in between your legs, aching to be touched. but your boyfriend looked so content and innocent watching one of his favourite movies, and you didn’t wanna interrupt him to help you out.

so your left alone with your imagination. it’s safe to say you’ve thought about these things before, in the shower mostly, with the shower head in between your legs as you work yourself through your 3rd orgasam.

you’ve thought about Matt in ways you haven’t discussed with him, mostly because you were scared.

this isn’t because the sex is bad… it definitely isn’t. but you’ve begun to want more, you’re just not entirely sure if your boyfriend is open to that.

most of the hookups you’ve engaged in, you’ve taken on a dominant role, it turned you on like crazy having a man beneath you, begging for a release.

Matt didn’t know about this though, you’re relationship has been very.. vanilla.

but you’re in love with him so it is different, more intimate than you’ve had with anyone else and much more loving. he had a way of making you feel so incredibly special and you cherished him for it.

you just can’t help but imagine Matt moaning your name as you make him cum over and over again, tears welling in his eyes as tells you it’s too much. how his body betrays his words and thrusts into your soft hands, begging for another.

most of all you imagine using him. using his face, his hands, his thighs. anything you can. not letting him touch himself as he works you through multiple orgasams. you imagine making him watch you please yourself, making him watch as you cum on your fingers, moaning his name, and there’s nothing he can do about it.

subconsciously you begin to rock your hips on his side slowly, a mental imagine in your brain of all these fantasies clouding any other thought. you fight back a moan, your pussy literally throbbing at the pure thought of having him like that, at your complete disposal.

you picture the way his legs shake as you finally touch him. the way his cum coats his length and the way his legs shake all because of you.

god it turned you on.

you rock your hips slightly more, not even paying attention to the movie at this point, too focused on chasing your high. the feeling of your clothed clit hitting his hipbone has you soaked.

“mmm” you let out a small moan before stopping entirely. what the fuck were you doing?

of course your actions hadn’t gone unnoticed, you can feel Matt’s bulge on your knee as he watches the movie.

“Matt baby” you look up to him, practically begging with your eyes. he responds by leaning in to kiss you softly, gently.

you pull away, unsure of how to get your point across. “the sex has been great, i promise you are great.” you premise as the boy beside you furrows his eye brows. “i’ve just been feeling like i need more” you state, searching for a reaction on his face, pleased to see a small smirk form.

“what do you want?” the butterflies that fill your stomach are insane, his tired voice does something to you.

you sigh as your hips continue to rock against him, your body moving without the help of your mind. “i want control” the eye contact is already driving you crazy. “i want full control of you” part of you is nervous. it’s very possible that he’ll think this is weird and that would be more upsetting than you’d like to admit.

instead he licks his lips. “okay” he puts his hands behind his head.

oh shit.

you could cum from the sight alone. this is already better than your imagination. “i need you” you start, kissing along his jaw as you climb on top of him. “to sit there and look pretty while i make myself feel good, yeah?” although it’s a demand, you don’t want him to be uncomfortable.

but by the way his breathing increases and his bulge grows, you know your okay.

you bite at his ear, eliciting a small whimper from the boy beneath you. “anything you want”

a smile immediately forms on your face as you lean back to pull your shirt off. he immediately goes to caress your chest, as he always does, but your own hands stop him. “i’ll tell you when you can touch me. just need you to be a good boy for me okay?” god you missed talking like this. you missed the way you were able to have men dumbfounded by your words, but he just nods, bringing his hands back behind his head.

He watches you very intently as you unclasp your bra, slowly taking the fabric off of your breasts. you spread his legs slightly, making yourself at home on his thigh, giving him your full weight.

you guide your hands on your stomach first, teasingly making your way to your nipples as you rock against the muscles below you.

Matt is already spent. out of breath although he’s done absolutely nothing.

you bring your hand to his lips, signalling him to open mouth. the sight of your fingers in his spit cause you to grind onto him more, a small whimper leaving your lips. “look at that pretty mouth of yours” you coo, a smirk making its way to your lips. “gonna put it to good use”

the look in his eyes sends a throb straight to your core, he looks so incredibly good begging for you. “please”

you take your now wet fingers and begin to toy with your nipples, your head rolling back in pleasure.

as much as you could do this forever, you need more, and you’d also like to see more. you lift off Matt’s shirt, exposing his chest instantly. you had to fight every urge to lick a stripe down his stomach, you were saving that one for later.

part of you wishes you brought your vibrator to use in front of him, make him hold it on your clit while you scream out for him, but you forgot.

you get off of his thigh and for a moment Matt looks like a lost puppy. “shift onto the bed fully” you demand, taking off your shorts and climbing onto the boy who’s now laying down flat. “you gonna make me feel good?” you whisper in his ear while you begin to rub small circles on your clothed clit, nothing but a thong separating you from where you want his tongue.

he just nods, a small bead of sweat dripping down his face. so worked up just for you. “i want words” you rock on his bulge slightly, giving him a glimpse into the pleasure he’ll be receiving from you later.

he gulps, clearly struggling to keep his hands to himself. “gonna make you feel so good. just wanna taste you”

you chuckle slightly at his willingness, your sight being straight out of a wet dream. “that’s what i wanna hear”

you get straight to work, placing yourself right above his face as he waits to make any movements. before you want his tongue though, you want his nose.

god doja cat was right.

you rock your hips on this nose, the tip of it grazing your clit with every roll.

“fuck Matt. doing so good for me” you lift yourself off of his face and he looks into your eyes asking for permission. as much as you could continue to tease him, it’s hard to say no to that face. you guide his hands to your hips, allowing his fingers to explore your ass while you remain staring into his eyes, now pushing your underwear to the side.

you sink into him and almost immediately he gets to work. lapping up the wetness that has accumulated and using it to lick small circles on your clit.

matt the much was a very fitting nickname.

you pull on his hair subconsciously, not that it’s something you’ve tried with him before, but based on the way he moans into you you know he’s into it.

his pace increases, flicking his tongue on your clit while you moan out his name. he uses his hands to hold you there, forcing you to stay out and you feel the pressure build up in your stomach by the way he sucks on your clit.

“fuck Matt”

you pull on his hair more, wanting to feel the vibrations of his moaning on your clit, and god does it work.

looking back momentarily to see his bulge you spot his hand, slowly palming himself. as much as you want to get mad at him, your close, shutting your eyes closed as you ride out your high, legs squeezing around the boys face.

your a moaning mess and his tongue doesn’t slow down once, your eyes squeezed shut, overstimulated but ultimately, preparing for your second orgasam of the night.

you knew you weren’t gonna last long, after the first orgasam you never did, and with Matt’s tongue?

you were hopless.

he begins tongue fucking you, and you bounce up and down as he curls his tongue inside of you, the tip of it curling exactly where you need it. “i- i’m gonna” your legs literally shake on his face as he works through your second orgasam of the night.

you can tell he could keep going but you needed a break so you pull off, the sigh better than anything you could have ever imagined, pure lust in his eyes as your cum drips down by the corner of his mouth, hair messy from being pulled.

you climb back down so you’re face to face. “you are so fucking hot like this” he shutters at the sentence and you can tell he’s in need of a release. “do you think you’ve been good enough to come?”

he nods frantically, literally high off of your pleasure. “please i need to be inside of you, wanna feel you clench around me” you kiss down his neck some more, causing him to stutter over his words.

you chuckle at his eagerness, licking down his jawline. “i don’t think you’ve deserved that yet” you glide your hand up his stomach, lightly, teasingly. “i saw you touching yourself, and as hot as it was” you pull on his hair slightly, giving you more access to his neck, more room to make a mess of marks.

“it was against the rules wasn’t it?”

the way he’s breathing it sounds like he’s gonna cry, eyes shut and eyebrows furrowed. exactly how you want him.

you reach your fingers back down on your clit, moaning instantly at the sensation. he made you so incredibly sensitive but you weren’t done. “mmm Matt, i need your fingers” you throw your head back, lost in the pleasure your hands are giving yourself as you rub small, gentle circles on your clit. right above his length that has already left a small wet spot in his pants. “can you make me cum one more time Matt? wanna feel those long finger of yours”

it’s hard to tell how he feels about it, upset wouldn’t be the right word, but he’s desperate for his own pleasure and you can tell. “just one more baby, wanna be shaking when your done with me”

“can i touch you?” there it is.

you nod and he flips you over immediately, hovering over you on the bed with his horse necklace dangling from his throat. a change in dynamic, but you weren’t opposed to it.

he takes more time now that he’s been given permission, licking small circles on your one nipple while his hand pitches the other, causing you to arch into him.

‘why have i never asked for this before’ you think. but your thoughts are clouded by the way his clothed dick rubs against you ever so slightly. based on his smile, he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“take off your pants” you demand, looking him dead in the eye. it’s clear how excited he is, but your still not allowing him what he wants most, not yet.

he moves quick, standing off the bed to drop down into just his boxers, at your full disposal. he hovers over you again, and for just a moment you let him have some control, you can’t help it, he’s Matt Sturniolo.

you feel the way his hands cherish every part of your body, taking special time with your nipples, but eventually you grow bored of this.

“Matt please”

“oh right” he shakes his head as if you had just put him in a trance momentarily.

but he gets right back to it, his hand placing pressure on your clit while he continues to kiss you, and you can’t help but twitch at the touch. he didn’t realize how much you loved overstimulation, or how much he loved having you this way, but this was definitely going to happen more often.

you grip onto the silk sheets as he continues to rub teasing circles, normally you’d be upset at this, wanting more, but your sensitivity has made the smallest touch feel like everything.

involuntarily, you buck your hips up, your body needing more, needing his fingers inside of you. “so needy baby, why can’t i take my time?” he teases, toying with your entrance as you try to form a sentence.

“Matt i-“ the tip his finger grazes your sensitive clit, causing you to shutter. “if you don’t put those fingers to better use your not cumming tonight” it’s hard to be dominating when your practically shivering under his touch.

he leans down to your collar bone, placing light kisses along your chest, now (finally) inserting his fingers into you. your mouth opens immediately, eyes squeezed shit as he teases your insides, lightly grazing over your g-spot before moving over it, exploring you.

“Matt if you don’t-“ before you can finish your sentence his pace increases drastically, his long fingers hitting you exactly where you were craving the touch.

literal tears form in your eyes, he’s never gone this fast before and by the way your continuously gripping the sheets and rocking your body into it, it’s clear you like it. “grip on my hair baby not the sheets”

once again you don’t want to take orders from him, but the proposition is too much to pass up. you switch your grasp to the brunette curls as he continues curling his fingers into you at a rapid pace.

you definitely won’t last long.

“clenching around me so good, so tight for me” he whispers into your ear and that’s enough to send you over the edge, legs squeezing shut and your head being thrown back into the pillow beneath you. “just like that, there you go. cumming all over my fingers”

dirty talk isn’t something Matt did often, but you’re more than happy that he’s using it now. you knew he had a freaky side to him, you just weren’t sure how to uncover it.

having you sweating and wet shaking on his bed like this was more than enough for him to speak to you that way, the both of you enjoying it thoroughly.

you ride out your high and his pace decreases as he places a sloppy kiss to your mouth. “are you tired baby?” he nods slightly, clearly a little embarrassed. “i’ll do all the work now don’t worry” you smile at him, somehow equally excited to give him what he’s been waiting for. he flips onto his back, and he looks done. but you certainly not, and by the looks of his bulge practically ripping through his boxers, his body isn’t either.

you climb back on top, legs still weak from the overstimulation you were just put through, but you were determined to give him an equally good time.

normally, you’d take more time with him, but it’s clear that your pleasure alone was enough to tease the fuck out of him. so you pull down his boxers in a quick motion, mouth watering at the sight of his length hitting his stomach, red and wet.

fuck.

“spit” you instruct him, your hand cupping underneath his mouth as he obliges. you waste no time reaching down as you hover over him, immediately stroking him.

he just twitches under you, so incredibly touch deprived. “love having you like this” he just moans, unable to speak at this point. “feel good baby?” your thumb grazes over his slit and his eyes just just shut at the sensation. “can you speak for me?” you take your hand off for a moment, looking at his face while you wait to the those pretty blue eyes you fell in love with.

“sorry” you continue the moment you make eye contact with him, he’s gone. “you make me feel-“ he whimpers as you continue to move your hand, at a much faster pace. “so fucking good” you smirk at this, this is the control you’ve been craving “yeah you like my hand?” he just nods as you continue. “what about my mouth” you shift down slightly, placing kisses to his chest. “you want my mouth on you?”

“mmm fuck please” you do as he says, first licking a long, slow strike down his torso, and you love the way you feel his abs flex on your tongue.

he places his hands in your hair, holding it back as you lower slightly more, face now aligned where he wants you. you lick one last stripe up his cock while looking him in the eyes and for a moment you see tears forming in his eyes.

this is your sign to get to work. and you do.

you know he’s already close by the way the pre cum coats him but you place your lips on his tip, slowly sinking down as your hands rub what your mouth can’t reach. he bucks his hips into your face and you pull back momentarily.

“didn’t tell you you could fuck my face did i?” he shakes his head and although you’d normally tease more, you begin to feel bad.

your pace on him quickens, head bobbing up and down at an impossible pace and in no time you feel a familiar warm liquid reach the back of your throat, followed by some pretty desperate moans up above.

you slow your pace, your hands milking him as he continues to twitch under your touch. but eventually you come back up to meet his face.

“you did so good baby. so good for me” he kisses you in response, fucked out of words.

so you lay that this, your case nestled in his neck while had hands rubs small circles on your back, both of you completely exhausted.

“i’m sorry i kinda sprung that on you, i was thinking about it for a while but i wasn’t sure how to go about it or anything”

he just chuckles and kisses your forehead “that was the hottest thing i have ever done, i should be thanking you” you smile at this. you knew Matt wouldn’t be the type to judge, but your glad he enjoyed it as much as did and you can’t wait for more.

@gamermattsgf

[99woez]

don't talk about it ᰔᩚ j.sc

warnings. smut, best friend!sungchan, roommate!sungchan, arguing, it's a dumb argument but you are fighting this man, physical fighting, just shoving nothing crazy but a physical altercation starts this all, unprotected sex, hair pulling, some angst? idk if i missed something let me know! i also did not proofread this because i got out 5k words in one night which is crazy for me. anyways, enjoy!

wc. 5k

summary. your best friend embarrasses you in front of your campus crush. so, of course, you decide to fight with him in the living room and learn some interesting things about him in the process.

Sungchan had always been stupidly large, in your opinion.

He was so large that you couldn’t resist the urge to playfully test his strength, curious to see how his fit frame would react to your playful jabs or if he would sway with a gentle nudge. He would playfully push you back, never with full force, but these light-hearted scuffles became a regular part of your friendship. It was a source of joy, a shared silliness, it meant everything.

Except for the times it did.

“You’re so stupid sometimes, oh my god!” You shouted at your so-called “best friend,” shoving hard into his chest. This shove wasn’t like the ones you usually gave him. This one was harsh and mean. There was not a semblance of anything alluding to happiness on your face as you looked up at Sungchan with knitted brows and parted lips, shoving hard into his firm chest once again, this time with a shout of frustration.

If we’re being honest, you two have been drinking. It’s not like you’re shitfaced and neither is he, but the alcohol is just enough to make the world blurry at the edges and your words harsher than you typically allow them to be. His chest, solid as a boulder beneath your pushing palms, doesn't yield like it usually would during your fond roughhousing. He stands firm, his expression teetering between annoyance and worry.

"Stop it," he gruffly says, grabbing your wrists mid-shove. Just like that, the playful laughter that usually echoes between you two gets choked in the tension-filled silence. You try to yank your hands-free, but his grip is firm yet gentle. He was never rough with you, even when the fights turned serious like this. It was a rarity for things to turn nasty, but sometimes Sungchan was so oblivious you couldn’t stop yourself from lashing out at him, especially with a few mixed drinks in your system.

“Let go,” You snapped. Sungchan leans in with a tilt of his head, letting out a “Hm?” as he does so, challenging you.

“Chill out first.” That did the exact opposite of chill you out. You hated it when he took that tone of voice with you, as if you were some child that needed to be put into a timeout. 

There were many things you loved about Sungchan: His kindness, his dedication to anything he sets his mind to, his eyes, you loved a lot about Sungchan, but there were many things you couldn’t stand about him. He was oblivious to the simplest of social cues, he got loud when he was drunk, and the way he comforted people was an absolute joke. If you hadn’t known him for more than half your life and shared an apartment with him, you would’ve ditched him when you two graduated high school.

But you didn’t. Now, you’re stuck with a big, dumb roommate who loves telling the men you like that you like them. God, Wonbin was never going to talk to you again after the scene Sungchan caused trying to get him to give you his number. You still can feel the embarrassment hot in your veins, making you lurch forward and finally give his chest a shove that makes him stumble a few steps.

“I won’t chill out! I won’t! What you did was fucking rude!” You yelled, pointing a finger in his face to punctuate your words and get your point across. Sungchan scoffed, turning his head away from you, but you could see his tongue press against the inside of his cheek, making the skin push out slightly. It was a habit of his you had noticed when you two went to parties together in college. It’s what he does when he’s annoyed and holding himself back, beating someone’s ass. It’s a rare occasion for Sungchan to beat someone’s ass, but when it did happen, it was always deserved. Typically, it would be a drunk guy who wanted to buck up to the biggest guy at the party, a one-sided battle of masculinity that Sungchan always won, no matter who came up to him. You’ve only seen Sungchan throw a punch twice in your entire friendship.

Once, when you were in high school, and the last time was at a party during your junior year of college when a man put his hands on you despite you telling him to fuck off. The other times, he had simply told you about when you’d see him in the kitchen with littered bruises on his body. You think about that night more often than you’d like to admit. Sungchan didn’t hesitate to throw a punch for you, knocking the man clean out by the time he was done with him. It lit a fire in you that you’re not proud to admit. There was just something in his eyes that rubbed your brain right. You would never admit it, but were desperate to see that look again. You wanted to see him angry, to watch him lose control no matter how fucked up it sounds.

“Get your hand out of my face,” Sungchan told you firmly, looking you in the eyes to get his point across, but you weren’t deterred. You step closer to him, finger still in his face.

“No. Not until you apologize. Admit it was rude. You were rude.”

“I wasn’t fucking rude,” Sungchan argues, swatting your hand down when you don’t move it from his face. You bring it back up without a care of the consequences, resulting in a game of him swatting your hand down every time you bring it up.

You two look stupid. Thank God this is in the privacy of your living room.

“You had no right-”

“You were never going to talk to him if I didn’t! You’re a chicken-”

“I’m not a fucking chicken––Oh my god, don’t call me a bird.”

“You’re such a fucking chicken, dude. Do you remember how long it took you to even talk to Shotaro? Months. ‘Took you months to even say hi to him, and that’s because-”

“Shut up.”

“That’s because I had to step it! I was the one to get you to talk to him!” Sungchan continued with a shit-eating grin, voice picking up volume as he leaned down to get closer to you as if you couldn’t hear him clear enough, pointing to himself like he had won some kind of award. Your already flushed cheeks begin to heat up when you remember the Shotaro incident of 2022. He always brought up Shotaro, and even if it was just to pick on you playfully, it still struck a nerve. You were more shy than Sungchan ever was, always letting him start the conversations or introduce you to new people. Half of your friends are Sungchan’s friends; half of the people you’ve dated are because Sungchan knew them first. Every connection in your life could be traced back to Sungchan, which drove you insane.

“Now, you want to talk all this shit because you got embarrassed I had to step in again and help you get some dick,” Sungchan pressed, his grin turning into a smirk as he nodded at his words, feeling them in his being because they’re true. You stared at him with contempt, teeth grinding as your fists balled up tightly. “You should be thanking me. You’re so ungrateful for everything-”

You lunged at him. You swear you don’t have control of your body when you do it, you just throw your entire weight into his chest and hope for the best. Sungchan let out an “Oof!” sound when you collided with him, staggering back and hitting the ground with you on top of him. You act as if you two are playfully wrestling, but none of your movements have an ounce of playfulness in them. You straddled his hips firmly as you shoved at his hands harshly to get them away from grabbing you. You knew once he got his hands on you, it was over. He’d flip you two over, and it’d be done. You couldn’t let him win this. You couldn’t do it. You had to prove it to him.

You don’t know what it was, but you had to prove it.

You grab his hair tightly, jerking his head off the carpet to distract him, tugging hard on the brown locks. Sungchan lets out a yelp that sounds pathetic. His eyes squeezed shut as his large hands wrapped around your wrist to try and pull you off of him.

“Not fair-” He started. You shake his head, eliciting another yelp from him.

“Shut up. Shut the fuck up,” You spat at him, shaking him again. His face contorted in pain and confusion, groaning softly as he did what you told him for once. You couldn’t believe he actually listened. Truthfully, you didn’t think you’d get this far. You’re not exactly sure what to do next. So, you shake his head again, making him hiss when you tugged harder on his locks. “Can’t fucking stand you, you know that? You’re such a jerk sometimes. Just big, stupid, and taking up space.” You shake his head around with every word, watching him drop his hands and put them up in front of him in faux surrender, but he doesn’t say anything. He only whined and grunted when you pulled on his hair harder than usual.

You waited for him to spit something back at you, to call you a coward, to say you needed him, but nothing but pants left his plush lips. You furrow your brows in confusion at his silence. Sungchan was never quiet. You shake him again.

“Hello? Say something!” You shake his head again, this time back and forth. You won’t lie. It was fun to have him like this. He acted like some kind of puppet that you were the master of, pulling him around in whichever direction you wanted him to go in, and he just took it. Sungchan sighed in defeat, keeping his eyes shut tightly.

“My dick just twitched.” 

Oh.

“Excuse me?” You couldn’t think of anything else to say. Your hands, which had been roughly pulling at Sungchan's hair, suddenly freeze. Your heart pounds in your chest as you gaze down at him, cocking a brow at him. His face is flushed a deep crimson, though whether from embarrassment or something else, you can't tell.

"I said," he starts again, much slower this time, swallowing hard, "My... my dick just twitched."

You blink at his repeated confession, not expecting him to repeat the words. There’s a tension growing between the two of you that you’ve never felt before, making your throat dry as you stare at Sungchan’s embarrassed face, watching his chest rise and fall as he pants beneath you. Flashes of what he’d look like without his shirt flash in your brain, wondering what sounds he’d make as you sink down on him, how his eyes would look, how the muscles would ripple under his––Jesus Christ, get it together, girl. You remind yourself, clearing your throat down at him.

“Like…Seriously?” Sungchan nods at your dry words, opening his eyes slowly to look up at you. A switch in your brain is flipped when you see his big brown eyes. He looks utterly pathetic like this, hair in your hand revealing his forehead, eyes pleading for something silent, and lips in a perfect soft pout. You wanted to take his picture like the actual definition of pitiful.

You chuckle at him, shaking him again and tugging his hair hard to see if it really did anything for him. He whines again, shutting his eyes as his hands lurch towards your hips, holding tightly with a sharp breath through his teeth. You smirk at his reaction, raising your brows in slight shock it was this easy to get him going. Maybe it was the alcohol, you think. You’ve seen Sungchan shove his tongue down girls’ throats just mere minutes after he met them, but this is you. You’re his best friend, his roommate, the girl who beat his ass for talking to her crush for her. You know you’re pretty, and Sungchan is just a man, but you’re still caught off guard by it all.

Your palm still cradled his scalp, thumb lazily tracing small circles at the base of his hairline. Sungchan’s hands on your hips squeeze gently, fingers digging into your flesh just a bit more than necessary and causing a shiver to wind its way up your spine.

Without thinking, you leaned forward and claimed Sungchan's lips in a rough, desperate kiss. His taste was different than any guy you've ever kissed - salty with a hint of beer and lime from the drink he had tonight. You wrapped your hand tightly around the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you as your other hand found its way under his shirt to feel his warm skin. You didn't let up when he moaned into your mouth, feeling your touch while he tentatively kissed you back. Your anger turned into desperation quickly as you slipped your tongue into his mouth, tasting him fully now. His lips were soft and plush against yours as they parted slightly to let you in further. You moaned the moment your tongues slid together, digging your nails into his toned chest as he pressed in further, sucking softly on the slick muscle in your mouth.

Sungchan's hands moved up your body, gripping your waist and still pulling you closer. The fabric of your shirt scratching against his rough palms made you shiver with anticipation for more contact. You grind down on him out of instinct, feeling the bulge in his pants grow as he groans against your mouth, wanting more from both of you. His scent filled your senses - a mix of sweat and cologne and something uniquely Sungchan that made you want more.

The sound of his rhythmic grunts filled the room, a mix of desire and surprise in every breath he took. His fingers dug into your skin through your shirt, and you moaned into his mouth once more. Your breath hitched when he bit down on your lower lip gently, making you gasp and whimper into the kiss before breaking it, desperate for air. You gasp softly when you part, watching with hazy eyes as he pants as well, lips slick with spit and typically wide eyes heavy with lust.

You tug at his shirt, nodding before he has any time to say something that will kill the mood.

“Take it off.”

And he listens like a dog, pushing himself up and pulling his white T-shirt over his head, tossing it aside before wrapping his arms around your torso and pulling you flush against him. There are no thoughts in your head right now, only Sungchan, touching Sungchan, kissing Sungchan, fucking Sungchan––Holy shit, you were totally going to fuck Sungchan. That hits you harder than you thought it would. You’ve thought about it before. How could you not? He’s beautiful, kind, and built like a God. Of course, you thought about fucking Sungchan. It was nothing like this, however. Typically, you thought of him having your face pressed into the mattress, back arched, and fucking you from behind like he was getting paid. You would’ve never guessed you’d be on top, but it’s not like you can’t get into it for Sungchan. You’d do anything for Sungchan.

"Are you sure?" Sungchan whispers against the skin of your neck, his hands finding your hips again to steady you against him, his bare chest warm and firm. You're taken aback for a moment, not expecting the question. But then you realize that he’s always been considerate, even when he’s on the verge of losing control.

"Yeah," you say firmly, the word slipping out without thought and causing heat to flare in Sungchan's eyes.

Without hesitation, you reach for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head swiftly. The cool air hits your skin, making goosebumps spread across your chest and arms. Sungchan's eyes widen as he takes you in, his gaze making you feel exposed and powerful. You struggle to pull your jeans off, having to crawl off of him to kick them off in haste. You hate how desperate you look but can’t bring yourself to care. Sungchan rolls on his side when you crawl off of him, lingering towards you like a lost puppy. His eyes watch as more of your skin is revealed to him, letting out a groan when he sees the smooth skin of your thighs.

Before you have the chance to climb back on top of him, he leans in, kissing the side of your thigh with a moan. You let out a gasp in shock but watched him with parted lips, threading your hands through his hair again as he dragged his lips all over the expanse of your thigh, leaving a trail of glistening spit as he did. He grabs your ankle, pulling you towards him roughly, making you fall back onto the carpet with another gasp. You don’t argue for once; you are too invested in what Sungchan will do next, even if you care.

His lips pepper kisses across the inside of your thighs, nipping at the sensitive skin with deep breaths as he inched closer and closer to your core.

He licks his lips as he hooks a long finger in your underwear, pulling them to the side. A moan leaves his lips when he sees your pussy for the first time, looking down at it like he’s looking at a coveted piece of art. You watch him closely, ears turning pink as he lifts two fingers to his lips, licking the tips of them before bringing them down between your legs to rub circles into your clit. His gaze stays on your cunt, watching how the pretty pink flesh moves beneath his fingers, biting his bottom lip when he hears you let out a whine, seeing your thighs tremble at just the slightest touch. Finally, his dark gaze lifts to meet yours.

With his eyes trained on yours, he presses a long finger inside you. A sigh leaves your lips as your eyes flutter shut, gripping the carpet with one hand while the other dug into your side, biting your bottom lip as he pressed another finger inside. You moan this time, feeling your walls begin to stretch for him. You hear him groan quietly, making your eyes open. You’re immediately met with his gaze that never left your face. He looks like he’s in a trance, staring at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You can’t tell how it makes you feel, but you feel hot, like you’re boiling from the inside out. It aches, but it’s so intoxicating that you want more of it.

You whimper at how his fingers slickly slide out, then back in, watching him get lost in the sight of your reactions. You’re so wet for him. It’s almost embarrassing how wet you got so quickly. You swallow thickly as your chest rises and falls with each pant. His eyes stay on your face as his thumb presses against your clit, rubbing slow circles that make you shiver with a choked-out moan. His free hand cups your jaw, tilting your head back slightly, forcing your lips apart to look deeply into your eyes as he watches you crumble under him.

Feeling emboldened, Sungchan takes his fingers out of you slowly, letting out a long moan when they leave you empty. He lays a line of sweet pecks against your inner thighs, leaving tiny bites and nips on the soft flesh until he reaches the hem of his boxers. With a breathy "Fuck," he tugs them down enough to reveal his hard cock pressing against the fabric. You gulp as it springs from its confines, averting your eyes momentarily before snapping them back up to challenge his gaze. His thick length twitches with anticipation before he guides it towards you, slick with pre-cum leaking from the tip. Your heart stops for a beat before racing wildly in your chest again.

"Wrap your legs around me," Sungchan orders softly, not breaking eye contact even when you hesitate for a second before obeying. He grunts when he feels your folds pressing against his cock, pushing inside without a moment’s hesitation. He slides in so easily, groaning at how smooth the glide inside you is. He sounds as beautiful as he looks, making you moan as well. The way his cock splits your walls apart for him is delicious, to say the least, as a euphoria fills your veins as your walls spasm around him with another moan, this one airier than the one before.

“Fuck,” Sungchan curses, fingers digging into the carpet next to your head as he looks down at where your bodies were connected before back at your face. You two lock eyes again, making your heart hammer in your chest harder than before. Still, you meet his gaze with a quiet whimper, hands wrapping around his strong biceps as you bat your lashes at him.

“Feels good, Sungie?” You ask in a too-sweet voice. You rarely whip out for him unless you ask for a favor, like getting something off the top shelf or making him finish your short answer response questions because you don’t want to. Sungchan would do anything for you, and you’d do anything for Sungchan. He takes a deep breath at your tone, lips curling into a smirk before he bites his bottom lip, nodding.

Then, his hips roll into yours.

Sungchan's thick cock feels even better than you could have ever imagined, stretching you wide and fulfilling you completely. His hips roll into yours slowly, making you moan and whine beneath him with each gentle thrust. The way he fills you up is mind-numbing, his smirk turning into a grimace as he leans down to capture your lips in a rough kiss.

Your walls clamp down on him at the contact, purposely trying to get more friction between the two of you. Sungchan groans against your lips, slipping his hands under your back and lifting you up onto his lap effortlessly. You gasp into his mouth, feeling his hard chest pressed against yours. Your heart pounds in your chest as he starts to fuck you properly now, eyes closing at the sensation that washes over you. You swear you can feel his heartbeat against your chest, but you convince yourself you’re just dreaming it.

You feel every inch of him inside of you, making your walls tighten around him with every snap of his hips into yours. A tiny sob leaves your lips when he hits that spot inside you that has you seeing stars. You dig your nails into the flesh of his shoulders, jaw-dropping and eyes rolling back at how your body moves like a rag doll and at how sharply his hips snap up into you. He groans into your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin before sucking softly to soothe it with his tongue. You can't help but shudder in his lap; this feels so good that it hurts. His hands hold you in place, one on your waist and the other cradling the back of your head as he takes rough control of the kiss again, teeth scraping against soft skin with every thrust. He pants against your lips, moaning your name softly and how good you make him feel. It's all too much for you; all too real with Sungchan, yet so not real. You’re fucking your roommate on your living room floor––You’re fucking your best friend on your living room floor.

Your hands find their way into his hair again, holding onto him tightly as he continues to fuck into you like your his, his lips trailing hot kisses down your neck and over your collarbone. You mewl at the feeling, arching your back into his chest as he hits that sweet spot inside you once more. You could feel the warmth spreading through your veins, making you dizzy with need. The room spins around you as he thrusts harder, faster, deeper into your already aching pussy. His moans mix with yours, their tongues meeting in a messy kiss that speaks volumes about how much you both want this.

Your legs quiver as he takes control of the situation, fingers digging into your skin softly before trailing up to caress your breasts through the thin fabric of your bra. You let out a strangled cry when he pinches at one of your nipples roughly, making you moan into his mouth even more, looking down to watch him work with a breath through your teeth. Your hands' card through the hair on the back of his head, eyes shutting to focus solely on the pleasure coursing through your veins with every drag of Sungchan’s cock against your walls.

"Sun-Sungchan," you whimper. The sound of his name on your lips is like music to his ears. Your body is sweaty and flushed, a beautiful sight for him to feast his eyes upon. He growls lowly when he finally meets your gaze again, heat pooling in your lower belly at the raw desire he displays.

“You’re so fucking good, baby. ‘Should’ve fucked you soon, hm?” Sungchan groans, his voice creased with effort as he continues to pound into you. You can’t help but respond with a needy whimper, skin burning under his touch as you nod your head dumbly. You feel him everywhere, and it's overwhelming - the way he’s stretched you wide open, the way he feels pushing deep inside of you, the way his hands are holding you in place as if afraid that you'll slip away from underneath him.

Your heart beats furiously against your chest, matching rhythm with the throbbing ache between your legs. You're close, too close, but not quite there yet. Sungchan seems to sense your growing desperation, the flash of triumph in his eyes telling you he knows exactly what he's doing to you. He reaches down and begins rubbing slow circles on your clit again, thumb pressing against the sensitive nub just enough to make you cry out in pleasure.

“You gonna cum for me?” He whispers against your throat, teeth dipping into your soft flesh, causing a sharp gasp from your lips. You nod frantically in response, words failing you as white-hot pleasure courses through your veins. He laughs softly - a dark chuckle that sends shivers down your spine.

The way you melt against him is intoxicating. He grunts, unable to think straight as he feels his own orgasm building up. His hips move even faster, his cock sliding in and out of your welcoming heat with each thrust. He groans against your skin, panting heavily as he fucks you like it’s his last dying will, wet sounds filling the room that mixes with your pants and moans. You squeeze your eyes shut at the sounds you’re making, cheeks growing more read because of it. Sex is so embarrassing sometimes.

He pulls away from your neck just a little to look into your eyes, panting heavily as they roll back in pleasure. Sungchan's lips curl into a smirk at seeing how lost you get. Your walls tighten around his cock once again as you cum around him, making Sungchan's eyes roll back into his head and tilt his head back with a melodic groan that has you moaning as well. You feel him tremble beneath you as he finally cums inside of you, making you smirk softly as your hands run up and down his back.

You throw your head back and cry out his name, orgasm hitting you hard and fast like a freight train. He watches as you finally hit your peak, jaw-dropping at how gorgeous you look when you feel good. Your walls clamp down around him, and your muscles spasm in ecstasy; even through the haze of pleasure, you feel every drop of his cum spilling into you, the heat of it searing into your core. Your body convulses and shivers under the onslaught of pleasure, your voice breaking on Sungchan's name. 

Sungchan stays still for a moment longer, his cock still buried deep inside of you. His chest heaves against yours, ragged gasps filling the space between your sated bodies. He blinks slowly, his gaze holding yours captive as he pants out your name. You take his face into his hands with a deep breath, leaning in and kissing his lips without a second though. He moans into the kiss, holding your wrists gently as he does so.

You both stay like that for a while. Bodies joined together in the aftermath of your shared orgasm. The only sounds in the room are your gasping breaths and the rapid beat of your heart pounding in sync. Cautiously, Sungchan pulls out of you gently, making your pussy squeeze around nothing instinctively at the loss, a soft whimper leaving your lips.

He rolls off to one side, pulling you with him so that you're tucked against his side. His arm wraps around you and keeps you close to him, fingers dancing along your sweaty skin lightly. Neither of you speak for long moments, too wrapped up in trying to regain control of your breathing and coming down from your highs even to fathom thinking of words right now.

Eventually, though, Sungchan breaks the silence with a soft whisper, "You okay?"

Your lips twitch into a tired smile against his chest, pressing a small kiss there before nodding. "Yeah," you huff out after a moment, "That was…"

"Crazy," he finishes for you, making you shut your eyes with a laugh, nodding in agreement.

“Yeah…That was crazy,” You whisper, moving your head to rest on his chest to soak up more of his warmth. Your cheek squishes against his chest as you lay there, looking down at his spent cock resting against his thigh. It hits you that you’re both naked and just had sex on your living room floor. This calls for a conversation at the least but you can’t drag yourself to start it, completely spent from what just occurred.

So, instead, you close your eyes.

You’ll deal with it in the morning.

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt. Dead on main. Someone who knows you better than you know yourself.

Perhaps Fentons are not able to recognize their child, despite the fact that they hunt him day after day. But for childhood friends, who saw each other in absolutely ridiculous situations that parents are never allowed to know about, just one sneeze and a bored sigh is enough to realize that this weirdo fighting next to him is the same guy with whom you tasted soap and then stood looking at each other from different corners and giggling.

And so, the dialogue after the battle with the creatures of Infinite Realms, to which Constantine had to invite a potential ally not yet approved by the League:

Phantom: Well, mom always said you were bad news...But a crime lord, seriously? What happened to your plans to become a literature teacher? Red Hood: Hey! For Gotham, this is a very high-paying in-demand job. And I don't want to hear anything from Casper. At least I have my own business. What kind of part-time job do you have? Are you selling sheets to your buddies from this green goo? Phantom: This is ectoplasm. And they're not my friends, and anyway… Constantine: King Phantom, do you know Red Hood? Phantom: Do I know him? Ha! This street rat was Splinter of my beginnings until my family moved out of Gotham.

Red Hood: Wait, wait a minute. Phah...Holy shit. I thought I was the best example of what it means to be a disappointment to a family, but you beat me here. Oh, man, only you...The ghost king who is the son of the ghost hunters? Seriously? Hahah! I thought your rebellious phase ended the moment you told your father that you wanted to be an astronaut and not inherit the family business.

Danny*groans and covers his face with his hands*: My life is over.

Red Hood: Literally~ No, of course I always knew that your parents' disregard for safety in the laboratory would someday kill someone, but I didn't really expect this? Like, wow… Phantom: What makes you think it was an incident in the lab? I mean, there are so many possibilities around. It's ridiculous and…hah Red Hood: Dude, look me straight in the face and tell me I'm wrong if you dare. Phantom:…Fuck you, stupid bookworm. Red Hood: Stubborn nerd. Phantom: Red bucket! Red Hood: Pale toadstool! Nightwing: Um, can you guys please stop fighting? Red Hood: What are you talking about? This is how we always communicate. Phantom: Yeah! Well, in our defense, my sister always thought we both could use a therapist. Oh, man, he made me lose my train of thought. Where were we, J? Red Hood: Since when are you able to think? And I complimented your new hair and skin color. Phantom: Right, right… But, hey, not all of my parents' hypotheses really have a right to exist, and you know it! Hm, did I mention that you're built like a fridge and how does this leather jacket suit you? Red Hood: I believe not. And who's talking about your parents' work? You were an airhead when you were alive too to be honest. And as I see it, not much has changed. Why the hell are you still starting a fight with puns? Stop telling your opponent your position. This is terribly stupid! Phantom: Oh, please, these ghosts are definitely not a threat to me. What's wrong with having a little fun? The fact that you don't have weapons to handle something stronger than a blob ghost is your problem not mine, loser. But let's get back to our greetings. Red Hood: Sure. Then listen here…

~~~~~

Nightwing: Jay, why didn't you say right away that you knew Phantom? We've wasted so much time wondering if it's worth summoning him, and you just stood there and said nothing. Red Hood: Pfff…Because I didn't know that until today. He used to be human. And we haven't seen each other for a long time. So how was I to know that he would take such a ridiculous pseudonym? Nightwing: Then why the hell didn't you feel worried about teasing this creature? Red Hood: Why should I? It's just Danny.

~~~~

Tucker: Oh man, 84 murders, attempts to kill Joker and to much fights with Batman and Black Mask and… Danny: Yeah, yeah. It's all very interesting, but it's not what I asked you to find. Get to the point, Tucker. What I will wear to our dinner tonight depends on this. Tucker: Seriously? As far as I'm concerned, whether he's single or not is less important than all this shit. Aren't you afraid to show up at his house? Danny: I'm invited. And for that matter, I'm Amity Park's former public enemy number one. Which one of us should be worried, hah? So he's not dating anyone, right? Don't try to distract me. Tucker: Dude! Danny: Ugh, in my experience, when he acts like he's lost his mind, he usually has good reasons for it. And if not, given some of the events of my alternative future, I have no right to judge him, so…

[evie-sturns]

signals - Chris Sturniolo

summary: after you accidentally reject your best friend chris, he gets upset with you because you gave him 'mixed signals'.

contains: angst, crying, bestfriend!chris, arguing, fluff

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

chris lays on my chest as we both mindlessly scroll through our phones, no words have been said in the past 30 minutes, we've just been enjoying eachothers company.

suddenly chris speaks up,

"i can tell you anything- right?" he says quietly, putting his phone down beside him.

i let out a small laugh,

chris and i have been best friends since our childhood, we've grown up together, we know each other better than anyone else.

"of course you can." i say, sitting up against the headboard. i run my nails through chris's silky brown hair.

"i just.. i just feel like over the past like- couple years, we've gotten much closer." he starts,

"and i kind of hate to admit this, because we promised this wouldnt happen, but i really, really like you" chris blurts out, his pale cheeks flushed pink and his blue eyes staring directly into mine.

"what-?" i laugh nervously,

chris goes silent, fidgeting with his nails.

"what do you mean 'what'?" chris says, his voice small.

i inspect his facial expression for any signs that hes joking.

"you're kidding- right?" i say with a nervous smile on my face, my heart beating in my chest.

"obviously im not kidding- im trying to fucking confess to you!" chris grows frustrated, running a hand through his hair.

i grab his hand and intertwine our fingers, in an attempt to calm him down.

"i- only see you as a friend chris-" i say bluntly,

chris's face falls,

"what?"

i clutch his hand tighter, chris looks heartbroken.

"im sorry-" i start but he cuts me off,

"i dont understand, for the past 3 fucking years you've been doing shit like this-!" chris rambles, pointing down to our interlocked hands.

"you literally led me on to the point of me confessing to you, you keep 'kissing up on my face and shit and hugging me all the time-" chris continues to ramble on, he looks angry.

"im sorry- im just a touchy person." i interrupt him,

"just a touchy person? friends don't act like us," chris starts up again.

"you dont understand how confusing it is to have the girl i like- yo! touching up on me every. single. time. we see eachother? does it not say something that almost everyone we know thinks we're dating!?" chris raises his voice,

"dont put this on me." i state,

chris stands up, "you never fail to make me look like a moron."

i furrow my eyebrows, "chris, you're just upset right now." i speak softly,

"of course im upset- you've gave me mixed signals for the past couple years!" his voice raises,

"i havent," i state,

chris's eyes are glazed, he looks like hes on the verge of tears.

"chris c'mere." i mutter, patting the spot next to me on the bed, urging him to sit back down.

"what are you gonna do next? makeout with me when i sit down? then tell me that its a friendly thing to do!?" chris yells,

im taken aback by his yelling, chris never yells at me.

"you're a real bitch y'know that?" chris says, his hands balled up in fists at his sides.

"chris-" i try to interrupt his tangent,

"no!" he cuts me off, his voice shaky and his hair now dishelved.

i watch as a couple tears fall down his cheeks, which he quickly wipes away with the back of his hands.

"look i think you should maybe go home- and sleep on this for a bit." i sigh, rubbing the bridge of my nose.

chris had planned to sleep over here, like most nights, but thats now been cut short.

chris covers his eyes with a hand, throwing his head back before walking out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

what. the. fuck.

"what just happened." i groan to myself, flopping backwards on the matress,

i hear chris lock himself in the spare room,

i feel uterlly overwhelmed, trying to process what just happened.

i dont know why i rejected chris so harshly.

i've never really thought of him romantically, its never been something that crossed my mind. but chris is a sweet boy, he gets along with my family, he's kind to me, most of the time.

hes also attractive, its embarrassing to admit, but my social media is constantly filled with stupid edits of him.

it wouldn't hurt to give him a try? give us a try.

-

(the next morning)

i dont remember when i fell asleep last night, but its currently 9:00am the next morning.

i groan as i peel open my eyes, the blinding sun shining through the curtain onto my face.

i sit up, standing up out of bed and walking into my bathroom,

i quickly brush my teeth, touch up my makeup, and fix my hair before walking out of my bedroom into the empty hallway.

my feet take me towards the spare bedroom, where chris is currently in.

i open the door, chris is laying across the bed, his phone in one hand.

"hey." i whisper softly,

chris glances up at me, his eyes puffy.

"im sorry about the things i said." chris mutters, looking up at me

i jump into bed beside him,

"ive just never really been rejected like that." chris says softly,

i nod,

chris looks like hes on the verge of tears again,

"you're allowed to cry, that was a pretty big night, wasn't it?" i speak to chris as though hes a child, which seems to calm him down somewhat.

chris nods, tears continuing to roll down his face.

"i just didn't sleep at all last night- and im so so embarrased." chris sobs, burying his face into my shoulder.

"shh- hey-" i whisper, stroking his back.

"you wanna hear something?" i ask,

chris nods,

"i thought about it last night, and i wasnt fair on you, ive never even thought about you romantically, but now that i know thats even an option ive realised that i think i do love you a lot chris." i start

chris tenses,

"maybe we could give it a try?" i ask,

chris looks at me and nods frantically, "y-yes! yeah!" he tries to play it off poorly.

i smile, "yeah?"

chris grins back, "yeah!"

i lean foward and pepper kisses all over his face, before placing a final kiss on his lips.

chris smiles against my lips,

god, this felt so right.

-----------

a/n: just felt like it tonight!

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[haute-honey]

astro obs.

🤸🏽‍♀️ Libras are always expected to give others something. Others always seem to look to them to give them their time, energy, love, affection, hell even their life. Of course they have issues with people pleasing because people naturally want to take take take from them. When they try to establish boundaries, all hell breaks loose leading them to never try to establish them again.

🤸🏽‍♀️ Speaking of Libra, I'm seeing a lot of posts about how *gay* we are lol Which made me wonder and think back on all the times I've had other women who I thought I was in true platonic friendships with fall head over heels in love with me and admit their true feelings to me. First time it happened I was literally in 4th grade.... How do we hetero Libras turn the gayness off or are y'all going off of what is stereotypically gay?

🤸🏽‍♀️ Libra rising are indecisive because when they make a hasty decision or impulsive decision, 9 times out of 10 it blows up in their face. Let them take their time dammit!

🤸🏽‍♀️ + libra rising kids not only experience bullying/jealousy/evil eye from their peers, they'll even experience it from full grown adults.

🤸🏽‍♀️ I saw someone mention that not liking 6th house synastry is because you enjoy toxicity in relationships...and I disagree. I think 6th house synastry depends on the type of relationship and the sign that it is in. For me, the 6th house works more for friendships and professional relationships rather than romantic relationships. As a straight woman, the sign my 6h is in is not ideal for a relationship for me due to other placements in my chart.

🤸🏽‍♀️ Furthermore, what synastry works for you best or what synastry you find to be most romantic is based on you and your chart. Don't let any of these "astrology girlies" pump your head up with bs just because it works for them.

🤸🏽‍♀️ Fellow scorpio placements (esp you scorpio suns) I'm gonna hold your hand when I say this, someone making you aware when you're exhibiting toxic/bad behavior does not equate to them being unloyal or betraying you. You need people around you that'll hold you accountable for the fucked up shit you do sometimes. No, it doesn't make them a snake or mean that they don't love you but my god, get a grip girl and be so motherfuckingly forreal.

🤸🏽‍♀️ Aquarius men aren't the challenge yall think they are... they're just detached. If that is not your style of love, move along.

🤸🏽‍♀️ Lilith energy is for women/feminines. If you are looking at Lilith through a synastry chart, the one who holds that power when it comes to how Lilith is placed is the feminine in the equation (if there is one). Men/masculines are subdued by Lilith. Not the other way around. For example, if a man's Lilith conjuncts a woman's Venus, he won't be able to use that power over her because he will not connect to it and will not know how to use it.

🤸🏽‍♀️ It is SO FUNNY when I read other observations on Libra placements. Its either we are mean girls/bullies or we are fake/people pleasers lmfao As someone with a lot of prominent Libra placements and influence, I have always had to deal with the fake allegations or the bitchy/intimidating mean girl allegations. Its like if we're not kissing ass we are the meanest bitches but if we are trying to make an effort to please everyone, we are people pleasing fake ass bitches 😆 I need y'all to pick a side and stay there when addressing Libras.

🤸🏽‍♀️ To say a venusian ruled person (Libra/Taurus suns, risings, venus) is a copy cat is laughable because they are the ones getting their swag stolen or having people wanting to be their friends to siphon their aura/vibe. Ex: Cleopatra a Taurus sun (Venus) had her "friend" copy her entire style/aesthetic.

🤸🏽‍♀️ I applaud the female/feminine Libras who have given up on pleasing others and have taken on the bitch allegations with pride because fuck these people. Y'all are weirdos who expect pretty women to fit into whatever box you feel like they should to appease your own self esteem. Seek help.

🤸🏽‍♀️ Degrees absolutely have effects on the natal chart and don't let anyone tell you otherwise! You might resonate more with whatever sign rules over the degree of your sign or rising rather than the actual sign that sit in those placements.

🤸🏽‍♀️ I saw someone say that a unevolved Sagittarius man is scared of sex........... while that could be true they are more often than not sexual deviants when unevolved.

🤸🏽‍♀️ Speaking of sagittarius, Jupiter ruled people quite literally NEED Jupiter to help them out and provide them with more luck than the rest of us because these people are the ultimate self sabotagers. They love trouble, they enjoy creating chaos often then not. And Jupiter is always there to put out the fires they start.

🤸🏽‍♀️ You can't really tell anyone what synastry is best for romantic relationships vs which ones you deem worse because at the end of the day it is all about preferences. If you like a familial feel to your relationships, you'll probably like 4th house synastry. However, if you're like me and come from a veryyyy dysfunctional family, 4h synastry will repulse you. So figure out your own vibe and what you like in a relationship and go from there.

🤸🏽‍♀️ Women with prominent sagittarius placements often are seen by outsiders as the "cool" or "fun" moms when really they can be verrrrrry neglectful towards their children. Ask me how I know lol

🤸🏽‍♀️ Saw someone say that Scorpio sun and moon placements can be backhandedly bully people and this is when I have to bring up the issues of generalization when y'all are making these "observation" posts. Any placement has the potential to be a bully. Literally any of them. However, why Scorpio sun and/or moon might stand out is because they can be LETHAL with their words (ex. Tia Kemp - Scorpio sun). Like they really know how to cut somebody up with their words and they are QUICK with it. Kind of like a scorpion with their tail. So be mindful and don't take it there with them if you can't keep up because you'll need therapy after they get done with you.

🤸🏽‍♀️ Scorpio moon women are either resenting other women or being resented by other women. It can go either way.

🤸🏽‍♀️ Gemini women are the ladies that look a mess 99% of the time and I like that about them.

[venus-haze]

Power Play (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Summary: So, you lost focus and had a consensual workplace relationship. It happens all the time. Maybe not quite like this.

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. Crazy ass 80s Vought debauchery. I might be a little rusty, but it was fun getting back into writing readerfics after two months🖤 Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Power imbalance, cheating (Soldier Boy’s with Crimson Countess). Mentions of drug use. Soldier Boy is his own warning. Sexually explicit content involving elements of forced intox, semi-public sex, breeding kink.

You were dizzy. With Vought’s investor gala rapidly approaching, you spent the better part of your day camped out in your office, flipping back and forth through your rolodex to call and confirm catering, entertainment—you still couldn’t believe the board of directors actually approved Duran Duran’s booking fee—and transportation, off the top of your head. You already told Stan Edgar you were taking the following week off, which he had no qualms about—so long as the gala went off without a hitch.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you were interrupted by a knock at your office door, which you’d left open in an effort to be available in the lead up to the event.

“Don’t tell me Edgar’s got you working tonight,” Soldier Boy said, walking in when he saw he had your attention.

“The most important night of the year is less than a week away and I still have a to-do list as long as your dick, so, yeah.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Must be pretty busy then.”

“How about you? Where’s Countess?” you asked.

Soldier Boy probably would have sought you out even if Crimson Countess were around, but from what you’d been hearing through Vought’s extensive grapevine, they were in yet another rough patch. Though, it seemed to you like their relationship was one long, extremely rough patch with some calm once in a blue moon. You weren’t afraid to admit to yourself that you ate up the gossip of their relationship like candy, especially when the other members of Payback—including Countess herself—would rant to Edgar about it. Since your office was right next to his, and most supes had little to no sense of subtlety, you could hear just about everything.

“She’s at one of those wildlife charity things, pandas or some bullshit.” He rolled his eyes. “Bitched at me because I wouldn’t go. She won’t be back until Friday.”

“Soldier Boy, I can’t just—“

“Sure you can. I mean, I’m technically your boss too, aren’t I?” he asked. “So, I say there’s no harm in taking a ten, fifteen minute break. Relieve some stress.”

You sighed. It had been a while since you actually got up from your desk. “Alright. Fifteen minutes, tops.”

He grinned. “Now we’re talking. You keep that minibar stocked?”

“Pick your poison.”

“Whiskey?”

“Sure.”

At least, you were pretty sure. The minibar in your office served as a nice gesture for the variety of people who’d come into your office for meetings related to all of the aspects of event planning you were in charge of. Over the past few weeks, though, you’d been reaching for bottles of whatever you could find to relieve the stress. Powdered your nose every so often, but tried not to make that a habit—not that you blamed your coworkers who did. Working at Vought was brutal and demanding, but hell, who else got to work with superheroes? Especially handsome, smarmy assholes who knew just how to fuck the lingering thoughts of any deadline or event planning out of your mind if you played your cards right. 

He handed you a shot glass. “What should we toast to?”

“To taking next week off.”

“Yeah? What’ve you got planned?”

You threw back your shot. “Nothing.”

“That’s no fun. How does a few days in Miami sound?”

You nearly scoffed. Of course he could make something like that happen on such short notice. For forty years running he was America’s superhero and Vought’s cash cow. After a night of schmoozing at the investor gala, he could very well clear out his schedule and fuck off for a week of sun, sand, and sex, too.

“I might need some convincing.”

“Then make yourself comfortable,” he said, walking back to the minibar to pour another shot for each of you. Almost comical, he’d have to drink the whole bottle and then some to feel the same way you did after two shots.

You glanced at the open door. “Someone might see.”

“Are you gonna make me repeat myself?”

Sparing the door one more glance, you worked at unbuttoning your blouse, tossing it aside. You shimmied out of your skirt and let it fall to the floor. 

“Heels stay on,” he said, his back to you. “Everything else off. Everything.”

With a hesitant huff, you unhooked your bra and pulled off your panties, throwing them in his direction when he turned around with the shot glasses. You made yourself comfortable on top of your desk, pushing some of your belongings aside to accommodate you.

He whistled lowly as you quickly finished off the second shot he gave you. “Look at you sitting pretty for me.” His green eyes burned a hole through you, though your gaze was fixed on the prominent bulge in his pants. He brought his shot glass to your lips. “Drink up, sweetheart.”

And you did, forcing the alcohol down as your vision blurred with tears at the unrelenting burning in the back of your throat. Felt some whiskey dripping from the corners of your mouth when you drained the shot glass. He collected the excess from your lips with his thumb, sucking it clean as he kept his eyes locked with yours.

“See how much fun we have together?” he asked, leaning over you until you laid back on top of your desk. “Could do that all next week.”

He kissed you, hard and mean like you needed him to. Perfect teeth that caught your bottom lip between them for a moment before releasing. Whiskey on his tongue that went to your head even though you knew he could hardly feel it. Rough hands feeling up your breasts, giving your nipples a harsh tug that made you moan in his mouth.

“You’re soaked,” he said, his voice husky as he rubbed his fingers between your slick folds with tantalizingly slow strokes. “If you wanted it, all you had to do was ask.”

“Fuck,” you whispered.

“What was that?” 

You groaned in frustration. “Just fuck me already.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” 

His mouth was on yours again, nearly distracting you from the sound of a zipper, the your gut clenching in anticipation as he pulled his cock from his pants.

It’d been a while since you had to brace yourself to take him, but you were wet, and maybe a little more than tipsy, so your body gave little resistance when he slid his cock inside you. Though, if Soldier Boy were anything, it was a guy who took what he wanted anyway, giving you hardly a second to get used to the feeling of how his cock stretched your pussy before he was pounding into you with harsh, unforgiving thrusts that made you grip the edge of your desk. 

Sometimes you forgot how strong he was. Hell, so did he, and there was little else you could do but lay there and take what he gave you. In all honesty, it was nice letting someone else take charge after having to hold it together all day. Let him fuck the stress out of you and replace it with all the aches and bruises that came with having sex with the strongest man on earth. 

“Harder,” you forced out, pushing that damn rolodex onto the floor.

“I go any harder, I’m gonna break you in half, and I don’t wanna do that until I’ve got you locked away in a hotel room for a week.”

“What are you gonna do to me?”

“Whatever the fuck I want. Not like I don’t already.”

You moaned. “Soldier Boy—”

“I’m not pulling out, so you better be on the pill or say your damn prayers,” he growled, his hot breath kissing your skin. You were on the pill, but nevertheless your hips bucked at his words, pussy clenching around his cock. “Oh shit, you want that, don’t you?”

“Yes—oh my god!” you cried out, muscles cramping as your orgasm pulsed through you, pleasure stealing your breath, choking you gently enough to leave you dizzy. “Yesyesyes—fuck!” Your heart was beating so fast you thought it was going to explode in your chest, especially as he kept mercilessly pounding into you, chasing his own release. 

He soon came with a groan, his cock twitching inside you as he bottomed out, practically knocking the wind out of you with a particularly hard thrust. 

You felt empty and sticky when he pulled out, and you didn’t want to think about the poor soul who was gonna be cleaning the mess you and him left behind the following morning, because you sure as hell weren’t in any shape to clean up the cum that was leaking out of you and onto the floor.

You put your hands on your chest, trying to catch your breath as he stood over you. The guy hardly broke a sweat, and you felt like you just ran the New York City Marathon. Super stamina. God fucking bless America.

“Hey,” he said, waving his hand in front of your face. “You good?”

“Sure,” you managed to answer. “Except now I don’t know how I’m gonna walk out of here, let alone get home later.”

“The ride up to the 99th is quicker. And if you need more convincing about Miami—“

You pursed your lips, considering the work you still had left to do before you could reasonably call it a night. But you were tired, and admittedly drunk, and Soldier Boy was already hard again. “I might.”

[eff-plays]

The way Astarion reacts depending on how you compliment him in the mirror scene (I have no interest in insulting him so I won't be covering that here, have fun though!) drives me fucking insane.

"I want to know what the world sees when it looks at me. What you see."

And you get two types of responses. First, your choices for compliments are

Strong, piercing eyes.

The creases when you laugh.

Pick the first, and he's pleased. "Go on," he says, sounding very seductive. You're giving him exactly what he wants, and he's encouraging it.

Pick the second, and he gets upset. He's an eternally young vampire, not your doting grandmother! You can do better than that. Even if you meant it as a compliment (I know my Tav definitely did), he doesn't seem to take it that way.

Your second options are

That dangerous smile.

The way your hair curls around your ears.

Once again, the first one pleases him, and he even praises your efforts. Very good. Now finish the scene and tell him he's beautiful.

But if you say the second, he gets exasperated. This is meant to be flattery, not poetry. Just tell him he's beautiful and we can call it a day, he says with a dismissive wave of his hand. He doesn't need to hear this crap, just tell him what he wants and fuck off.

Of course, it doesn't matter how you get to this point, and every dialogue option at the end of the scene nets you the same amount of approval. If you call him beautiful, it's +1. Call someone else beautiful, it's +1. If you ask whether he just wants shallow praise (aka don't call him beautiful), you get +1. So this is me pulling this out of my ass I guess.

I always choose to call him beautiful becuase 1) he is and 2) my Tav thinks so too and would oblige him if he asked for it that directly.

But I am obsessed with the different routes you can take to get to this point and what they imply.

Strong, piercing eyes and dangerous smile pleases him more outwardly, but doesn't actually affect the outcome. He's satisfied and confident with these compliments. They confirm what he's trying to project into the world, what he aspires to have and to be.

The creases when he laughs? The hair curling around his ears? Those are things he can't control, can't use against someone else. But he asked to be seen, and if this is what Tav sees, then what does that mean for him?

Why are they complimenting his laugh lines? Why are they speaking poetry at him? Why are they seeing things he has no control over, and why are they revealing them to him?

He doesn't want shallow praise. Questioning this nets approval, and giving it to him doesn't increase approval. What he wants is assurance that what he's trying to be is what the world sees, that he's in control.

And if you actually act as a mirror, point out the things unique to him that you see, he gets uncomfortable, because you're showing a reflection of someone he thinks he's not, of someone he has no control over. And that's scary, even if it's supposedly complimentary.

Because what's scarier than losing control?

But then, compared to how genuinely upset he seems when you insult him (I looked these up on YT for context), the laugh lines and hair curls are still accepted as compliments. So what does he think when Tav says these things?

They see past his piercing eyes and dangerous smile. They see something else that they like even more, things he's not aware of or doesn't appreciate as much. What does that feel like, to cultivate such a perfect image of oneself for the purposes of seducing and tricking others, and then be stumped when someone walks past all that and points out something entirely different that they noticed and found endearing?

Do you do him a favor, and tell him you see only what he wants to be? Or do you speak the truth, and show him what he actually is? Which one is better? Which one is worse?

[originalwinnerfanfish]

Well, I did it

Megatron - I love his tfp design. Probably one of the best iteration of Megs. He is huge, heavy armoured, his face covered with scars… He doesn’t looks like an ordinary military leader who is only capable of giving orders, but like real warrior who can destroy any enemy with his bare hands.

So, in the WOF version, he definitely shares some features with Princess Burn, not only because of his might, but also because of his horns shape and dirty-dark scales (that absorbed blood of his enemies)

Starscream - Boy, I hate him so much 🤣… but in the good way, trust me! In my opinion, when the show's creators make you feel such strong negative emotions towards a villain, it means they've done a great job. Also, I think that his animation in the show was absolutely incredible, because even though he's a 3D model, he still manages to move like a 2D character, which is amazing!

I feel that in my design he still looks more like a skywing, than an icewing (which is kinda logical)

Soundwave - This one was tricky. I couldn't figure out what his mask would look like, so I just made his face a really dark color. I think Soundwave has both gifts of the nightwings, and he’s equally great at telepathy and a future vision. So he doesn't really need equipment to predict enemy movements, which makes him an ideal communicator in the WOF setting. His Laserbeak is part of the armor enchanted by Shockwave, and it might also allow him to open portals (but I'm not sure with this one)

Shockwave - My favourite evil genius. He would definitely have animus magic and mind reading. I think Shockwave is the only one who has advanced the study of magic so far, precisely because he combined it with scientific knowledge and created safer methods of using it, that don't damage the mind. It's like if a Mastermind got animus magic in books.

I also like to think that he didn't heal the damaged part of his face just so that his enemies would fear him more)

Dreadwing - This man deserved better! It's really a shame that he was removed from the show so quickly due to financial problems. It would be great if his arc got a proper conclusion in season 3.

Considering that I didn't want to make him a hybrid, it was difficult to choose a suitable color palette. So let’s just say, that I tried my best😅

I don’t think that he would have any nightwing powers, but honestly it doesn’t even matter - this guy can make a bombs, what else does he need to be cool

Arachnid - Did anyone even doubt that she would be a hivewing? Damn, she even got her own “Othermind” virus. Her design was the easiest to work with - just a little poisonous ass (suspiciously similar to Maleficent).

Just like Starscream, I hate her, but in a good way. She's one of the creepiest characters in the entire series, who’s acting like a fucking heartless monster, especially with Arcee, but even so, there's always was something mesmerizing about her. I just really like strong female villains

Knockout - Wery bright and charismatic guy, definitely one of my fav cons!

I tried to draw him as handsome as possible. Worked a lot on the face shape and coloring, and as for me it turned out pretty nice (finally).

Most decepticons think Knockout is as stupid and lazy as all the other rainwings. And it's not like he completely disagrees with that. Of course he’s not stupid and lazy, but if it’s means less dirty work on the battlefield, well, he’ll continue act like a tipical rainwing

(I also believe that Megatron keeps him as an “art”)

Breakdown - Fun fact: "Operation Breakdown" was the very first thing I saw in this series. And it was an interesting experience for 8 year old me. Maybe that's why I'm so scared of eye gouging scenes in movies now…

I think that he didn't have any siblings initially due to his parents nature, and even after meeting Bulkhead, he felt uncomfortable among the other mudwings. And this is why he later chose the side of the decepticons. And maaaaybe because of one cute rainwing influence)

P.s.

I think that, being mostly nightwings and icewings, the decepticons are much more concerned about purity of their blood and rarely accept half-breeds into their ranks.

During the war, there were many animus dragons among decepticons, which is why they have so many artifacts that allowed teleportation and communication at a distance. But, honestly, I still can't imagine what Nemesis would look like in this AU

[emmyrosee]

this is for the non curse bf!sukuna

when you first start going out he wouldn’t know what flowers to get you. he could ask you but- who tf asks their gf ‘hey what flowers do you like?’ he thinks that’s lame. so guy brings 5-6 diff flowers just for you.

can you imagine, him all tattooed and brooding buying you flowers in a pretty flower shop😭😭i’m crying :((((((

OKAY BUT IF HE DOES IT TO LIKE, ASK YOU TO BE HIS GF???

Like originally he was just going to take you out on a few dates, enjoy the company and yuuji and his Ma off his back, but that plan crumbled when he started to be the one to text you first. When he started to initiate dates. When he started to feel butterflies in his chest when you laughed.

Yuuji so graciously told him he had feelings and should cuff you before you get tired of him, and the idea swirls for a bit in Sukuna’s head before one night at four am, he storms into yuuji’s room and in a pure panic asks “how do I ask her out?”

Yuuji grumbles and throws a pillow at his brother, “flowers and candy, go back to bed.”

But Ryomen does anything but. Because there’s so many flowers and so many candies, how will he know which is your favorite? And as much as he’d love to ask you, it would ruin the surprise of being so excited at being his girlfriend that you’d have to say yes- a little manipulative, perhaps, but he’s not perfect despite what he says.

So he kinda goes… crazy.

He buys you all sorts of candy, everything from sour to chocolate, to even some cotton candy grapes and gummy bear watermelon and more candy flavored candy, all to put in a small bag that dangles from his thick wrist.

Next is the flower shop, and that’s even more stressful because how is he supposed to pick between roses and peonies and assorted and god knows what other breeds of flowers there are- one time, as a kid, he saw yuuji give a little boy a fistful of yellow dandelions, can’t he just do that?

According to the swipe of his credit card after picking out seven bouquets…. No. Apparently not.

He lugs everything out to his car with grunts of efforts, texting you telling you to be home because the smell of flowers is making him nauseous and the candy is probably melting in the warmth of the sun.

SENT please tell me you’re home?

Schnookums (god he needs to change that, why’d you ever put yourself as something so feral in his phone?) why, you coming over??

SENT no I’m making conversation

Tf

Of course that question means I’m coming over

Schnookums yayyyy okay 🥺💙

He scoffs before making a floor to your house, nerves making him speed a little too fast and almost run a few too many red lights, and he’s grateful that the cops he passed have mercy on him and let him get to your house without a ticket or handcuffs.

He gathers his bundle back in his arms and blindly makes his way up your driveway, using the sheer grace of the gods watching over him to not trip and crush everything under him. He sneezes god knows how many times, and once he’s finally at your door, he doesn’t know how long it takes him to knock successfully, but after 5 tries, he finally nails it.

And after a few short seconds, you open the door with a gasp of excitement. “What did you do!”

“I wasn’t- fuck!” The flowers start to slip as he tries to peer over them to look at you. You’re quick to make a move to help him catch them. “Fuck. God damn it. Ugh.” He clears his throat, “I wasn’t sure what flowers to get, so… I bought them all.”

“Whats in the bag?”

“An absolutely feral amount of sweets.”

You’re beaming at him, so excited between the gesture and seeing him that you immediately toss your arms around him, the crinkling of the bouquets being what snaps you back to life.

“Ah shit.”

“Sorry! Sorry!! I just… this is so sweet,” you say, smiling.

“Well, I uhh…. I wanted… you and I’ve been kinda… going out for a while….”

“Yeah?” You ask, and with the way your eyes widen and jaw slacks slightly, you know what he’s going to ask.

And he knows you’re going to make him do it.

“And I really… really have enjoyed it.” He takes a deep breath, “not sure why, but-“

“Shut up,” you snicker.

“But I kinda… want to do it. More. And… not let you do it with other people.”

“Okay,” you giggle.

“And I’m told the only way to do that is to make you my girlfr-“

“YES!” You scream, wrapping your arms around him again, and when he makes a noise of protest, you grab the flowers to put them on the ground, hugging him again tightly.

Tightly enough his organs hurt and his breath can’t get into his body, but this feels so right, so good and so comforting that he’d let you do it forever. He kisses your head and cradles it, letting the bag rest against your back.

“I can’t believe you went through all this trouble for me,” you murmur against him.

He chuckles, “don’t thank me too much yet. We still need to find vases for all of these because I’ll be damned if I let my kind gesture die within twelve hours.”

“I don’t even know if I own a vase.”

He stiffens, and you snicker in his grip.

“Well then I hope your don’t like your kitchen sink too much.”

[sophiethewitch1]

What We Want - Chpt. 7 - Black N' White Knight

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

“I can’t believe that just happened,” Dick tells Tim, hand carting through his hair. The two of them are in the kitchen, at the breakfast bar. Tim sitting in front of his laptop with his legs crossed, and Dick tapping one foot agitatedly against the marble floor. While Tim might not be grinning ear to ear, it’s pretty obvious for anyone who knows him that he’s delighted by the tale Dick just regaled to him.

And what a tale it was. He hasn’t seen you in a year and a half, and then when he does, he finds you teary eyed staring at a picture of him shirtless at the gym. Bruce had always told him the way he played with the paparazzi would come to bite him in the ass one day, but he really can’t say he expected… that.

Obviously, it had to be a prank. That’s his first thought. That’s his only thought, really. What other explanation could there be? An accident? Maybe you’d forgotten what his room looked like. It wasn’t like he kept much personal stuff in his Wayne manor room, the only markers his clothes and the letters he kept in his drawer from his parents.

And you were wearing his clothes, of all things. He’d be surprised if you forgot how much of a Superman fanboy he was, seeing as he’d spent many hours ranting to you before the explosion. So, a prank. A show of good will, an olive branch maybe? It was more likely you were just fucking with his head, as you’d done in the past. Never like this, though.

This was just… bizarre.

“I can’t either,” and of course, Tim sounds near estatic saying that. The love of chaos ran true in that one.

Dick had managed to wrangle his life under control a few years back, and despite the universe seeming to try to unravel it at the seams, he was indisposed to let it simply happen. Even if you of all people had changed. No, Dick was getting older, and he was finding his taste for chaos a lot more… limited.

He didn’t want to suffer it’s affects. He was currently suffering it’s affects.

“I knew something was going on when she showed up to the party, but this…” Tim pauses, leaning back in his chair, “It’s gotta be a prank, right?”

It said a lot about their family that this was all the assumption they defaulted to.

“It could be something else. Did you even take her to the hospital after?” Dick offers instead, overthinking as always. This situation seemed to be made for overthinking, though.

Tim hums. “No, we did not.”

Then he turns his stare to Dick, like he’s expecting something from him.

“Seriously?”

“What? You’re the friendly one.”

Dick very much did his best to seem like the friendly one, at least. Tim was well aware it was a complete farce, though. Dick was nice but he could also be a bit… well… a bit of a dick. Another thing he’d been trying to overcome. He was doing better than when he’d been seven, at least.

Dick sighs, pressing his hand to his forehead, “I’d probably just end up accidentally nagging her, and then she’d never speak to me again.”

“That’s not my problem,” Tim shrugs, glancing back down at his laptop and squinting.

“It is, actually. Because if she stopped talking to me you’d probably be the next one till the girls and Duke came home who has to talk to her.”

“She could talk to Jay,” Tim offers, because he’s a shithead. Dick bets he did the same with Bruce, “And besides, I’m busy doing surveillance.”

“You mean stalking.”

“I do it to everybody, stop making such a big deal out of it.”

Dick sighs again.

“Hm, you might want to check your phone,” Tim says, in a way that suggests he has once again tapped the network. Keeping him out of Dick’s private life was like Sisyphus and his boulder. He still wasn't going to give up, and the time Tim and Steph mercilessly bullied him for getting dumped over text had made him all the more so.

‘Dont_try’: hey. can you come pick me up? thx

“Please, tell me you sent that and are just messing with me,” Dick begs, staring down at his phone in mild despair. Chaos. Always fucking chaos. Despite how hard he tried, he could not keep his family out of trouble. God damn it, when he’d gotten this job he’d been the one made for trouble. Where did he go wrong?

“Honestly, sounds like the sort of thing I’d do, but the girl just got bitch slapped so I really think you should respond fast.”

“What?!”

“She’s fine now, run to the bathrooms I think. You know for such an upstate place you’d think they had better camera positioning,” Tim mutters, complaining that he can’t watch every single little movement you make. Dick thinks he should probably worry about this, as it’s a clear sign of another decline for his sanity, but he’s now got this shit to deal with.

“Why, Tim? What is going on? Just tell me what’s going on.”

“Hm?” he’s engrossed by the computer, “Ah, the shitty boyfriend… some soup- ha, how is she such a clutz? Maybe we should get her head checked again- and… an altercation of some kind? I don’t know, I can’t see it properly.”

Dick leans forward in his stool, clasped hands covering his face for a moment.

“Are you going to reply? If you don’t soon, she’ll probably make it a bigger shitshow,” Tim says, nudging his foot against Dick’s. Dick, good big brother that he is, takes a deep breath and steadies himself. Even if this is really not what he wanted for his holiday, he’s dealt with much, much worse.

The press will have forgotten about this within the week. You, however, likely not. He’d promised to help you all those years ago, and even if he had no idea why you were reaching out to him, or if you would even be amicable when you met again, he’d still damn well do it.

He glances back down at his phone.

“What is going on?” Dick repeats to himself, and Tim’s head cocks to the side. There’s that familiar cat that got the cream grin spreading across his younger brother’s face, and it just really isn’t welcome right now.

“Intrigued yet?”

Unfortunately for both him, Tim and especially you, Dick already was.

He’s in his car in five minutes flat, finger tapping against the premium leather wheel. The sound of it is the only thing that manages to keep him sane.

Riding up to the place, Dick realises that no, maybe the press won’t be over this within the week. Considering the amount of paparazzi swarming the place, he doubted you’d be free for at least a few months. To be fair, the mysterious ex-wayne making such a scene was a bit of a big deal. Before you’d been basically invisible, despite your immense wealth and past.

Invisible? Dick thinks he spots at least twenty cameras. And that’s not even mentioning all the phones inside that would’ve gotten up close videos of whatever happened. Their legal team would handle it fine, that which Barbara or Tim couldn’t wipe from the face of the earth. And that was very little, all things considered.

Dick has to push past the calls of his name, ignoring all the intrusive questions volleyed his way like the pro he was. He still makes sure to listen carefully and store away every vital bit of information, as well as remember the logos on the film crew’s van. Eventually he makes his way to the front of the line, and the flustered front of house immediately recognises his face and sweeps him inside. Dick ducks in with a thankful smile, which he admits, falters when he enters the scene.

A scene which you are not in. Your gold digging boyfriend was, though. Of all the things Dick regrets with you, it’s not breaking the horrid relationship the two of you had apart. Or well, the fact that you totally, loudly hated his guts. He was a sensitive guy, y’know!

He sees your terribly boyfriend - George, Dick remembers - raging at some poor servers, and he knows he need to go sweep in and save the pour soul. It’ll be a hard fight, he can already tell.

Before he does so, he sends a quick text to his phone.

Underwear_guy: Where are you?

Don’t_try: I’ll be right out.

Shockingly, that was the truth. You come striding into the restaurant, and immediately all eyes are on you. It makes you stutter-step. Dick can see you visibly stiffen up, before you manage to gather your courage and keep walking. You don’t even pay him a single glance as you walk straight towards your fuming boyfriend.

You try to whisper, keeping your voice quiet and your conversation private. The boyfriend seems uninterested in the idea.

“What the fuck are you thinking?!” he cuts you off.

You glance around, and then say something else. It seems like you’re trying to defuse the situation, but George seems uninterested by the idea. 

“This behaviour is ridiculous. You need to get it together, we’re in public!” he yells, like he isn’t the one causing a scene. He seems to be trying to intimidate you back into silence. But today and well, yesterday too, something is different about you.

Okay, that’s enough of that. Dick’s intervening.

“You cheated on me! You deserve it and everything that’s coming to you!”

Or, uh, maybe you’ve got it covered.

-

George’s shocked face is almost worse than when you literally bit him. Guess he expected you to be a bit more demure after that encounter. He should know better, the other version of you seemed to have been even more spiteful in nature.

Today again, you prove you are a less than stellar person. You’d stopped caring about George as soon as you’d discovered he’d cheated, but you were still angry. Not jealous, but furious. Bubbling up your throat, rage and bile and the urge to attack him once again, even if you just want to go home.

Your teeth grind. Your jaw ticks. And oddly, you realise you have a real taste for George Lancaster’s limbs.

Though your life had changed (literally) in the past few days, you were still the same girl from your first twenty-first. You wanted George Lancaster to suffer. Even more so, now that the evil cunt had hit you right in the face. The hit had stunned you, though. More emotionally than physically, but it had shocked you.

You couldn’t say you were a coward. You’d spent far too many days in your teenage years indulging in self-destructive behaviours to think that. But something about this pathetic man was scaring the shit out of you. You think that made you more pathetic, but you couldn’t quite tell. That’d be victim blaming, right?

You did have a habit of blaming yourself. It was just usually your fault.

…Maybe you shouldn’t have bit him, no matter how much the response was instinctual or his screech was satisfying. This was all too confusing, all too much. You needed to get back to your apartment, lock the doors and barricade them so nobody bothers you. And then maybe hibernate for a week. You needed some time to process all the stupid bullshit you were experiencing. The wayne manor was too much, your horrible white apartment was too much, George fucking Lancaster was too fucking god damn much.

You take a deep breath, and manage to stop yourself from bolting like a deer. Deal with the problem at hand. Deal with it now, deal with it!

“I’m leaving, and we are done. It’s that simple,” you tell George, trying to drill in a message that he seems unable to comprehend. At this point you’d assume he’d be trying to apologise, manipulate back into his good graces, but you think you might’ve completely broke him. Broke the script.

Good. That was damn well good.

“Can we talk about this somewhere else at least?” George replies, eyes flicking to Richard Grayson’s angry gaze. At least you think he’s angry. You can’t quite gather the courage to look directly at him.

Also, there’s the manipulation! You wish you weren’t right this time.

“Sure, but I’m bringing him, and my answer will absolutely not change. You hit me.”

“You bit me!”

Well, yeah, not your best moment. You don’t think you can regret it, though.

“Then I think this relationship is ending on equal terms,” you reply, trying your best to just get him to quit it. It is obviously not working by the way his expression darkens.

“I’ll tell the press everything,” George threatens, which, well, is sort of a shitty threat because I don’t even know what he’s threatening. ‘Everything’? Couldn’t he be a bit more specific?

You shrug. It is the wrong response, you know it is, but you’ve completely ran dry of fucks to give. Couldn’t be much worse than the bullshit happening right now. The press were already very well fed, considering the situation that was today. George makes a small sound of fury.

“We’ll sue,” Richard Grayson, the white knight that you’d daydreamed about, comes to your rescue. Is it odd that it’s kind of flustering? You probably shouldn’t be flustered.

George immediately snaps his gaze to Grayson’s, giving the man a look with a healthy dose of fear. Couldn’t blame the guy. Even if he was the second smallest of the three remaining brothers, he was still well known for being strong. His family often did kick-boxing, and their sister, Cass, often whooped their asses. It was sort of satisfying to watch. Anyway, his physical prowess from fighting to weirdo gymnastic bullshit was evident in his svelte build.

George was many things, but he wasn’t an idiot. With just the one threat from the Waynes legal team, he skitters away like the little rat you know him to be. He leaves the restaurant, and he very obviously does not pay or even leave a tip. You suppose you have the cash to make up for it. Then, ignoring the paparazzi, you were technically home free. You glance to the side. Richard Grayson’s beautiful face looks a mix of confuddled, frustrated, and exhausted. He still saved you, though, even after the fool you made of yourself.

White knight, indeed. It almost feels a bit anticlimactic, but it’s the results you wanted. And yet, an ominous feeling befalls you. Somehow, you don’t feel you’ve seen the last of George Lancaster. You just really hope the old you hadn’t committed any crimes. A tabloid? Humiliating, but livable. Prison? Not so much.

Not that the rich stayed in prison in Gotham, or even the rest of the world. It was kind of strange to realise you were sort of above the law now.

You glance at Dick, pulling your uncomfortably wet shirt away from your chest. You’ve sort of been bled dry of any shits you could give at this point, so you decide, very maturely, to make jokes and ignore all your problems. It had gotten you this far.

You’d seen this behaviour before. Many, many times. It was what usually got you fired. But now you didn’t really have to worry about that, so why should you worry about causing a scene and ruining your life a bit more? It wasn’t yours, after all.

“What do you think?” you joke, elbowing Dick. He looks down from glaring at the entrance George just slipped out of, to you. His blue eyes are a damn near shock to the soul. It takes everything in you not to start fidgeting.

“Think of what?” he responds, and despite how hard you try, you can not read his expression.

“I’m trying to make some more news. Don’t think the reporters got enough the other day,” you say, gesturing to the giant stain. It’s still Dick’s shirt. You hadn’t realised till now, but the Beatles was now some sort of green soup. Is it kind of gross of you to acknowledge that at least the soup smelled good?

Probably. You didn’t actually get to eat anything here. It’s also probably a bit weird that you’re thinking about eating at a time like this. Probably.

“I think you’ve done enough, honestly,” he says, glancing at the camera flashes from outside.

He sounds exactly like your mother, it’s almost uncanny. Well, this version of him technically knew her. You’re still not sure how well en-meshed your two families had been before the disaster, but maybe he’d picked up some traits from her.

…That… you’re not sure how to feel about the idea. The old green monster bubbles up at the thought, and you can’t tell if you’re jealous your mum got to meet Dick Grayson, or that Dick Grayson might’ve gotten to know your mum.

“We should leave,” he says, cutting off your bitter inner thoughts, “I know you don’t like it when the magazines bother you.”

You don’t? You don’t. Yes, that makes sense, ‘you’ definitely wouldn’t have. And it’s not like you feel comfortable with them either. In fact, if you think about the fact your drowned rat appearance will be on every tabloid in the city by tomorrow, probably alongside photos from your birthday, you feel so nauseous you could collapse. Going to compartmentalise that one.

“Yes, going, let’s go,” you say, following Dick out of the restaurant.

Despite the fact that the security guards are trying their best, it’s getting quite rowdy out here. When Dick wraps an arm around your shoulder, shielding you with his body, you almost just pass out right there. His muscles… Your heart simply can’t take it. As it is, Dick notices you jump like a foot in the air, and backs off. He still makes sure to try and protect you from their vision as much as possible.

Still, in an act that is purely rebellious, you turn and give them a big smile and a wave. Even as you hate every single person on the other side of the divide, you want to make one thing very clear. You will not be cowed by someone like George fucking Lancaster. Your peace sign and wink are a message to them, to him, and to yourself.

Despite the fact that this new life is one you have no idea how to handle, you know one thing. Put on a face, and it’ll always be easier.

Dick is probably wondering what the hell happened to you for you to be acting this way. Your shirt has a giant stain on it, you just broke up with your cheating boyfriend, went through a traumatising experience just a few days ago, and you’ve got the biggest grin on your face. This behaviour speaks more and more of a full blown mental breakdown. And it’s not the first you’ve had or the last.

There’s paparazzi snapping thousands of photos of the two of you, and instead of shying away as ‘you’ used to, you throw up a peace sign. One of the papps drops their camera. That confuses you a bit, as your peace sign deflates slightly. Didn’t they want more pictures? Weren’t you supposed to pose…?

For all you stalked celebrities online, you realise you have no idea how to pretend to be one. This is going to become an issue, you can already tell.

He points at a car, and you assume it’s his because he starts making his way over. He’s obviously done this sort of thing before, using and guiding the security with a smooth confidence. Even still, the two of you are a bit too close for comfort.

Which you prove, by putting your foot directly in your mouth.

“I don’t have abs, but do you think the press would like my stomach like they like yours?” you say, and almost immediately regret it. Another poor joke. You are deflecting so hard. And why the hell did you bring that up, you dunce? You feel your brain cells draining the more you’re around this guy, it’s not healthy for you.

“Please don’t pull your shirt up in public,” Dick sounds like he’s about to have a mental breakdown. It’s spreading, like the plague. You’re patient zero, of course. Even still he gets you guys to the car, and opens the side door for you. You follow his wordless command and slip into the passenger seat.

“I won’t. Sorry, sorry,” you reply, to relieve him of some of the trauma you’re currently inflicting.

He glances back to the papps, and then back down at you. His smile bowls you over like he’s getting the last strike in a fucking 300. He genuinely is the most beautiful human being you’ve ever seen. Thankfully, he closes the door so you have a moment to gather your sanity before he goes around the car and gets in the driver’s seat.

You hope you’re subtle when you shift away from him slightly. It shouldn’t be that surprising really. You were stupid on average. You would be stupider around attractive people. You would be frankly disastrous around someone as blastingly hot as Dick Grayson. The Waynes in general turned you into a drooling idiot.

Good god, you need to get out of this car. As soon as you think that, Dick is pulling away from the parking spot and out onto the streets. He makes slow progress because Gotham traffic, but eventually you manage to flee the horrifying stares of the cameras. Already you can tell it’ll be giving you nightmares. Probably along with images of the guy who tried to rape you and Damian Wayne sneering at you.

“So, how are you feeling?”

Despite how you wish it not, Mr. Grayson decides he’s going to start a conversation with you.

“Good,” you reply, the answer instinctive and an obvious lie.

You can feel his gaze on the side of your face, but you don’t dare return it.

“That’s good to hear,” he says, and his voice is gentle. Sort of infantilising if you’ll be honest.

While it is very clear to anyone who looks at you that you have no idea what you’re doing, you’d rather he didn’t bring it up. You’ll figure it out. You’ve always managed to figure it out. This is what you get for asking for help. Really, despite your momentary panic you could’ve taken George. Probably not physically, but…

“You can talk to me if you want, you know?”

“Can you stop the car, please?” you respond, when that question immediately activates your fight or flight response. Dick must notice something about you, because he quickly shoots forward and into a momentarily available parking spot.

You scramble with the door, shoving your way back out onto the asphalt. The immediate distinct smell of Gotham, even Gotham’s richer districts, calms you down. Sewage, the ocean, and the ever present smoke and fog.

Fuck’s sake. You aren’t making yourself look anymore well put together.

Clearing your throat, you turn and find Richard Grayson coming around the car hood towards you. There’s a worried look in his eyes, and you really don’t know how to deal with it. It’s like you made a deal with the devil. By getting rid of George, you’d gotten a new problem - and an infinitely more complicated one.

Shit, you need to stop making rash decisions when you’re having panic attacks. You’d say you should probably try and stop having panic attacks entirely, but you don’t really know how to do that.

The sound of your name has you snapping back to attention. Dick looks even more worried.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asks, taking a few slow steps towards you. Again, infantilizing. Like you’re a wild animal about to run. Wait, weren’t you just comparing yourself to a chihuahua? Well, it’s not the same when other people do it.

“I’d like to take a walk,” you say, hand scrunching into your pyjama pants, “Alone, I’d like some time alone.”

“…In that?” He glances down at the stain that is slowly starting to dry. It’s making your skin itchy, but at least it’s not as cold.

“I can buy something,” you say, remembering one of the apps on your phone was connected to your bank account, which you had to assume was pretty full. It’s kind of stupid that you haven’t checked that yet.

You’re starting to feel a bit defensive towards your own intelligence. Maybe it’s because you seemingly keep making all the worst decisions.

Dick doesn’t make it any better.

“Do you have cash on you?” he asks, showing how little faith he has in your general abilities to survive as an adult in Gotham.

“I do, I’ll be fine,” you insist, because god damn it, you will be. You just need a fucking minute.

You ran from the Wayne manor because you felt like you were being watched, and then as soon as you showed up at the world’s most uncomfortable apartment, the haunting wraith known as George dragged you out in your P.J.s. You could figure it the fuck out, if these people would give you some fucking space.

Richard Grayson seems to realise that you’re getting upset, because he goes quiet for a moment. After staring at you for a moment longer, for which you manage to find the courage to maintain eye contact through pure stubborn will, he asks you one final question.

“Are you sure you don’t want a ride home or something?” he asks, still seeming so determined to help you.

His suggestion brings flashes of images of you breaking down in front of the Bruce Wayne to mind. From almost a birds eye view, you see yourself sobbing against your own ruined dress as the billionaire looked on. Bile literally jumps up your throat, and it takes a lot of willpower not to grimace at the suggestion.

“Look, Mr. Grayson, I really appreciate-”

“That’s the second time you’ve called me that.”

Once again, you feel the urge to simply sprint away from your own problems, but you manage to hold yourself still. Still, you can’t think of a solution. You can’t really think much of anything. Instead you stare at Richard Grayson with your hands threaded together and your lips pressed into a thin line.

Though you open your mouth to speak, you find you have no excuses ready or available. You’ve talked yourself into a corner already, and it’s your third day in this world. Marvellous. Maybe you should just tell the truth.

Still, the dangers outweigh the pros. They don’t know you, they don’t have any real reason to take care of you. If they believe you, they’ll toss you out onto the streets penniless. And if they don’t-

You blink. There’s a highway sign behind Dick, and it catches your attention like a lightning bolt. ‘Arkham Asylum 800 miles’. It’s white blocky letters on green panelling feels like a sign from god, warning you from the path you consider taking.

And then you realise that you might actually get sent to Arkham if you say anything, and you resolve to never tell a single soul about what has happened to you. You’ve heard enough stories about the asylum, and by god, you are not being roommates with the fucking Joker of all people.

Eventually Dick realises he’s not getting anything out of you and he sighs, shaking his head. His annoyingly perfect hair mesmerises you for a second, but you manage to wrangle your brain back under control. He really doesn’t make it easy.

“I just want to know if you’re safe. If you’re going through anything, you know we’re always happy to help-”

“Dick,” you say his name, face twisting in discomfort, “This was a… a one time thing. Usually I can handle my problems. It just… it caught me off guard. George cheating was a huge shock, and I needed someone to stand by me.”

“And you know I always will, right?”

Ah. That’s… Dick Grayson was a stranger. You didn’t know him, and more than that he did not know you. He did not know what you would do, could do. You didn’t think anyone did, not even yourself.

It’s a silly idea to expect your celebrity crush to save you, and it’s one you find you can’t stomach it at the moment. It makes you feel disgusted with yourself at the idea. It’s too indulgent, too silly. It’s very simply, not possible.

You’ve given up on relying on miracles. These lessons had been beaten into you, really. You didn’t want to have to learn them again.

Your feelings must show on your face.

Dick lets out a whoosh of air, frustration palpable. He carts his hand through his hair. It still looks perfect. The world is unfair, yadda yadda.

“You run hot and cold, you know?” he gives you a grin. It says a lot about his ability to act, seeing as it seems almost natural. Almost, being the key word.

Also, he is absolutely correct. The chihuahua effect is in full-swing. And you know what? You are probably going to continue to run hot and cold, because you’ve never made a decision in your life. He’ll just have to get used to it.

You raise your hands and shrug, in the universal ‘what-can-you-do?’ motion. He wasn’t wrong. You were being completely erratic. Not even you knew what you’d do next. At least life isn’t boring these days, right Right? You wonder who you are trying to fool, because it’s certainly not yourself.

“I’ll contact you if I need anything,” you lie, because it seems to be the right thing to end this torturous conversation, “And I’ll make sure to keep contact with Alfred. You can talk to Jeanine if you need anything, as well.”

Dick, unfortunately, calls you out on your bullshit.

“But not you, right?” he says, smile still printed on his face.

Woof. You think… you’ve hurt his feelings? Ah shit, you instantly feel like the scum of the earth. Still, you don’t know how you could fix this. Arkham is a genuine threat lingering over your shoulder, you don’t know enough about your new cut-throat billionaire world, and you can not lose any faith they have in you. Any that you have left, that is.

You’re sorry, but this is coming down to survival. And you are a greedy person, after all.

In the end, you don’t have anything to say, and Richard Grayson leaves without a word. Watching him walk towards his car, you feel… bad. Really bad. The part of you that is still crushing on this guy, a very large part of you, feels like you’ve ended the earth. The other part, the one that recognises that once again you’re going to have to fight for yourself… well, she thinks so too.

Maybe… maybe you could fix this. Apologise. Once you’ve gotten your bearings and know you’re safe and 100% financially stable, maybe you’ll figure it out. Give him his shirt back after you’ve dry-cleaned it.

For now, you give him your back as well.

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