#but the pretense is that they’re there to clean

[sailorsleepymoon]

I’m watching Willy’s wonderland and so far I do absolutely love it to be clear I’m having the time of my life, but the fire hazards in this movie are driving me a little crazy. Handcuffing your daughter to the radiator? Chaining nic cage inside? I mean he’s obviously trying to let nic cage get killed, but still!!!! Not by fire!!

[inkdrinkerworld]

hi!!!! if you’re still writing for remus, i was wondering if u could write something like rem and reader being super close friends and they just realize they have feelings for each other in a not very dramatic way, just kind of like, i love this closeness and i want more of it way?

sorry if i’m not good at requesting english isn’t my first language!!!!

Your English is perfect babe! Don’t worry about that! I hope you enjoy this Remus x best friend!reader on their weekly sleepover with a sleepy love confession ᡣ𐭩

“Did you see that new realty show about the girls who make more than their husbands?”

You ask Remus as he hands you a cup of tea. You’re curled up on his sofa, feet tucked neatly under you as you scroll through tv programs.

“No I haven’t seen it. Did you start it yet, dove?”

Remus sits beside you, the bottoms of your feet pressed into his thighs.

“No, I started one episode and fell asleep.”

Remus laughs, “That’s not a good sell,” you smile sheepishly.

You and Remus do this every Saturday- meet at either of your houses for lunch that turns into dinner and dessert and sleeping over cuddled next to each other.

You both swear you’re not in love with each other to your friends, but as his hand falls to your ankle and tugs your feet into his lap, you know it’s not true.

In turn, Remus knows that you’re in love with each other by the way you look at him as his thumbs press into the arches of your foot and your foot stretches into his palm.

“It was going pretty well, I was just so knackered.” A yawn tears apart your words as if to prove your point.

Remus nods sagely, taking a sip of his tea to hide his smile.

“Start it up then dovey,” you click the first episode with a pleased look on your face.

“If I fall asleep here please wake me.”

Remus rolls his eyes and you scowl, “You hurt your back the last time.”

Remus scoffs, “I did not! It was just rained that night so my muscles hurt a little extra.”

“Well I don’t want them to hurt any extra tonight, Rem.”

He nods, but you’re suspicious.

Remus watches one episode all by himself because you barely make it past the 15 minute mark.

It’s no matter to him, because he gets the chance to really look at you and feel his heart galloping in his chest without feeling like his face will give his feelings away.

Your eyebrows as without a furrow, which is strange for your seemingly permanent semi-frown, your cheek smushed under your hand and your lips all the more pouty for it. God he wishes he could just give you a quick peck.

Instead, he busies himself with cleaning up- putting your mugs in the dishwasher, wiping his counters down and going to his room to unmake the bed a bit.

His touch is featherlight as it graces your cheek, “Bedtime, precious girl.”

His hands slip under you and you rouse, a bleariness that can only come about by waking from a deep sleep making Remus smile.

“You’re so stubborn.” Sleep eats through your words, like molasses dribbling off a spoon. Remus kisses your temple.

“You’re adorable,” he lays you down on your side of the bed and you look at him with much more severity for your play argument.

“I think I’m in love with you Remus.” The words escape you with no pretenses or fanfare- just the simple, love infused words.

Remus’ hands stutter where they’re pulling your favoured blanket over you.

He kneels down and you twist under the sheets to face him, his hand cups your cheek, thumb stroking all the creases there from your palm resting there.

“I know I’m in love with you too dove, but I’d like to take you out on a proper date tomorrow if you don’t mind.”

You smile wide and bright for a night only half illuminated by the moon, “I don’t mind in the slightest.” Remus’ smile mirrors your own. He spends a couple minutes stroking your face, your eyes fluttering shut heavily. “Would you come up here? Give your knees a break, Rem.”

He scoffs a laugh, “You’re so bossy.” His lips brush your cheeks and then your nose.

“Wait I want a real kiss first.” He laughs outright then. His lips parting to puff air on your face as he does.

“No wait for our date,” you whine and pout all with your eyes closed, it’s then and instantly Remus realises he’ll never be able to deny you because he coos and tilts your face towards him. “One kiss.”

You parrot, “One kiss.”

Remus’ lips press into yours softly, soft and not more than a peck but it satisfies you. His knees crack as he stands, slipping into his side of the bed before you can say anything.

You turn to face Remus, bodies pressed close. His hand drags up and down your back, settling you. “You’re spoilt rotten already and it’s only going to get worse.” He murmurs fondly as you fall asleep, his smile hard to tame.

[euthymiya]

surprise visits — ft. gojo satoru

you like visiting satoru in roundabout ways. he likes taking you in his bed every chance he gets. it’s a mutually beneficial relationship sort of thing

before you read: fem reader ; reader wears makeup ; brother’s best friend gojo ; reader is geto’s younger sister (she is implied to use the last name geto) ; slightly forbidden love ; non curse au (gojo and geto are roommates) ; unprotected vaginal sex (but gojo pulls out) ; hand jobs ; very overdone tropes sorry

notes: you know what they say….blood runs thicker than water. and cum runs thicker than blood ;) (sorry)

Your brother would kill you if he found you like this.

Legs wrapped around a slender waist, hands curled with a fistful of sweaty hair, cheeks smeared with tears and mascara that’s kissed right off by swollen lips. He’d kill you a second time if he knew the slender waist, sweaty hair, and swollen lips belonged to his best friend.

“Missed me?” Satoru purrs, pressing a kiss to your jaw. You whimper as his cock sinks deeper into you, burying past your folds and nudging at a painfully sensitive spot. “You must’ve missed me real bad if you’re back so soon, sweetheart.”

If you were a good sister, you’d say you visit your brother for the sake of seeing him. You’d say you miss your kind, loving older brother, and you couldn’t bring yourself to wait any longer to see him.

The truth, however, is that you miss his best friend.

Satoru is good at keeping secrets—it’s a bit hard to believe at first, but evidently it’s true since Suguru doesn’t suspect anything. Never once, in all your time of visiting, has he questioned why you come so frequently and spend so many nights.

What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

If he’s not aware that you sneak and spend nights curled under the sheets of his roommate who happens to be his life long, childhood, and only best friend, then who are you to break the news to him? And if Satoru doesn’t find it necessary to come clean, why should you question his judgment?

Suguru has always been protective. It’s what a good older brother should do. He’s particularly picky about men.

That one’s too dumb.

That one looks like he washes his face with a bar of soap.

That one definitely doesn’t respect his mother.

That one’s just ugly.

Suguru turns his nose at every boy you meet. Every one you start talking to. It’s hard to have a dating life when your brother is so overly protective, so high with his standards. It’s loving, of course, but difficult all the same.

It’s not that you just had to choose Satoru out of spite. It’s more like Satoru was right there, looking so good, talking so sweet, and being so gentle. At the right place at the wrong time. Just happened to be there, letting you rant about your brother’s meddling with a half-amused smirk and a slightly empathetic look.

Maybe Suguru is right, he’d murmured, stepping closer, maybe the little boys you find are undeserving.

One accidental heated kiss turns into countless stolen, and thrilling hidden pecks in hidden corners of the apartment. That quickly becomes not enough, and then you’re sneaking into his room to lock lips for as long as you’re brave enough to. It’s easiest at night, though, to eventually shed clothes and explore a little more than tongue and lips. His body is a lot more accessible to you in the comfort of his bedroom while your brother is fast asleep in a completely different room.

And so it begins.

An unbreakable habit of sorts. Satoru’s body becomes familiar—too familiar, in fact. One taste, and you can’t help but make the two hour commute every few weekends, dropping by your brother’s shared apartment with his friend under the pretense of being a thoughtful little sister.

Suguru, I brought groceries, you say, no more instant meals. They’re unhealthy.

Suguru, your place is in need of serious cleaning. You boys live like pigs.

Suguru, I missed you. I thought we could rewatch some movies!

One excuse after the other. One visit after the next. One trip to Satoru’s mattress again and again. And again.

“C’mon,” he drawls, pouting against your cheek before he licks a dark, mascara-mixed tear from the soft skin, “tell me how much you missed me. I missed you too, is that what you wanted to hear?”

“T-toru,” you whine, arching your back as his hips roll with a sharp thrust, fucking into you deeper. Harder.

“I do love when you say my name,” he chuckles, hand coming to tilt your face up and meet his eyes, “but that’s not exactly what I wanted to hear.

His hips slow, like a punishment. Like not giving him what he wants stops motivating him from taking you on his thick, swollen cock. You’re sure that’s not true—but he’s a ruthlessly stubborn guy.

“Missed you,” you gasp, nodding frantically, “missed you so much, okay? Please don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop? Sure,” he laughs, grunting as his pace picks up and your walls squeeze around him in response.

It’s filthy. His pre cum, your slick, the small beads of sweat. All of it rolls down your inner thighs in a sticky, wet mess that is purely obscene. Satoru stares down between your legs like it’s beautiful, though. Watches the push and pull of his cock in and out of your hole, disappearing and reappearing coated in your arousal and his.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, “gotta get you a little place right by ours. So you can come over whenever I want.”

You tighten around him at that. He grins, laughing that sweet, boyish laugh that just makes him so attractive.

Suguru will just have to understand. Satoru is practically impossible not to fall for.

“You like that idea, huh? I can tell,” he says smugly, peppering kisses along your cheek, stopping just along the corner of your mouth. “I can feel you squeezing around me, you sweet little thing.

Satoru is like that—teasing and cocky on the surface, acting as if he isn’t just as desperate on the inside. Maybe even more. You can tell because he’s panting harshly against your mouth, impatiently bullying his cock past your folds and waiting for you to take the bait.

You do, of course. You turn and kiss his lips, earning a satisfied, almost relieved groan from him as he melts over you.

Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling his body closer, lips biting at his as he moans into your mouth. His rhythm is sloppy by now, cock aching as it glides against your walls, the friction building a pressure in the pits of your bellies together. It feels intimate like this, when his mouth is on yours and your eyes can meet at any given moment, when he can look down and see you take him and join your bodies, when you can wrap your arms around him and feel the flush of his heat against you.

It feels intimate. Close. Not like the other boys you’ve talked to. Maybe Suguru was right—maybe your taste in men has always been bad before this. Maybe you just needed to look a little closer instead of further.

“You know what I think?” You murmur against his ear, smiling as he shivers at the feeling of your hot breath fanning against the sensitive skin.

“What, baby?” He hums, panting as his hand wanders lower, finger slowly tracing along your belly, your waist, until finally finding its destination at your clit. “What do you think?”

You can hardly answer when he rubs circles into the sensitive nub, gasping with a soft whimper as he teases the bundle of nerves.

“I th-think…you’ve been sharing a place with the wrong Geto,” you whine. “It should be me.”

“Yeah?” He quirks his lips at the corner, “you want to share a place with me?”

“Yeah,” you pout, making him close his eyes and sigh shakily at the sight. He leans in and steals a quick peck at your swollen lips, jutted out in a sweet, adorable little frown. “You don’t want one with me?”

“God you drive me insane,” he groans, eyes closing shut and scrunching as his hips slam into you—sloppy and desperate now. “Fuck, you’re so tight, baby. So…so good.”

“Please Toru,” you beg, clinging tighter to him as your nails dig into his shoulder blades. Anything to ground you, to bring you closer to him—nails in his skin, legs around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back.

“Please what?” He says lowly, still teasing at your swollen clit, “use your words.”

“Please make me cum,” you plead, “m’so close.”

“Then cum, baby,” he murmurs against your lips before kissing them, slow and meaningful as he adds, “let me see you. C’mon.”

His hips roll once, twice before your hips buck into him, leaving the bed as you let out a choked sob. Your orgasm hits you in harsh waves—it’s hard to stay afloat with the way they drown you in pleasure. He’s unforgiving against your clit, still rubbing those harsh circles into it and working you through your high.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he groans, “fuck, you’re squeezing me, sweetheart. So t-tight—m’gonna cum.”

Satoru, unlike the guys you’ve heard about from your friends here and there, doesn’t fuck you for his own pleasure. He fucks you like he has something to prove. That he can take care of you.

Satoru holds himself back, jaw clenched and eyes screwed shut, labored breaths through his nostrils as he waits for you to finish, slowly fucking you through it.

Finally—finally, when you’re done, he pulls his hard, throbbing length out, hand wrapping around it as he strokes himself with a loud groan.

“Fuck,” he whines, “fuck, I’m close—sh-shit.”

He cuts himself off with a curse when you pry his hand away and replace it with your own, making his eyes rip open and stare down as your tinier hand takes the place of his much larger one. You can’t wrap your fingers around him completely—that sight alone makes him twitch in your hold.

You stroke him quickly, squeezing along the length as your fist glides down, right at the base of his cock. It doesn’t take long for him to come undone, the first few drops of cum coating your hand before they shoot in ropes with very twitch of his length. They spill onto your bare skin, against your lower belly, dripping along your inner thigh.

He watches, in a trance. Eyes hazy and fucked out but focused on the way his seed coats your skin.

“God,” he groans, “like that—y-yeah,” he praises as you work him along his orgasm.

Finally, once you’ve milked every drop out of him, he collapses over you, uncaring of the mess he’s now smeared along his own skin.

“How long do we have?” You murmur.

“Suguru’s back from work in an hour.”

“That gives us plenty of time,” you nod, your good hand stroking through his sweaty hair.

He perks up, brightening as he gives you an excited grin. “For another round?”

“To clean up and look presentable,” you glare.

“But we need a shower for that,” he winks, “we could—”

“I’ll use his bathroom. You use yours.”

Satoru flops back onto your chest, burying his face into your neck as he huffs in defeat.

“No fun at all,” he grumbles, earning a giggle from you as you kiss the side of his head.

Your brother would definitely kill you both if he was here right now.

I have to leave for work in 9 mins and I’m still in pj’s posting this. Lord save me I need priorities

[koolades-world]

Random Obey Me! Headcannons

Lucifer really likes human world blue cheese but refuses to admit it because he knows he will be made fun of for it by his brothers

Mammon has his first dollar he made in the Devildom framed and when Mc found it while looking for condoms he was really embarrassed

Idk it’s so funny to me to think of Mc and Mammon about to have sexy time and they need to go look for a condom. Mammon swears he has some so Mc goes digging though a drawer and finds a framed dollar bill while butt naked

“Mammon what is this-”

“SHIT UNSEE THAT HUMAN”

Levi has neck and back pains from all the gaming he does and really loves massages but is too scared to ask

Satan once stole a pair of Lucifer’s underwear and hung it from the RAD flagpole

Asmo made it a point to introduce Mc into his nightly routine as his face mask buddy, even to the point of doing it over call if they’re separated

This also sounds funny as shit imagine someone like Levi walking in on that

“So anyways, I stomped their skull in and got blood on my new boots. My hands also hurt from wringing the neck of that-”

“Asmo, Lucifer wants to know- HOLY SHIT WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO YOU”

“A face mask, Levi. You could use one”

Beel loves kids and likes it when they use him as a jungle gym

Belphie always kicks people in his sleep without fail. Mammon swears he does it on purpose but knows he doesn't

Simeon does the best hair braids and is regarded the best in the Celestial Realm

Luke hates girl scout cookies since he thinks homemade cookies are so much better

Solomon can be seen leaving Asmo's room at any point during the day but nobody ever sees him going in. Imagine hanging out with Asmo and Solomon just fucking appears and then disappears just as fast

Diavolo's favorite color is pink

Barbatos has a succulent garden and Mc will bring him a new one every time they come back from the human world

Thirteen definitely loves Mexican food and spice in general

Raphael is convinced soft blankets are the best thing to ever exist

Mephisto once accidently knocked over one of Luke's cakes and felt so bad that he sent Purgatory Hall a buttload of money and wrote an article in the RAD newspaper about how great the angels were at baking

Mammon and Lucifer openly hate white chocolate (because it's not chocolate). Satan does too but pretends to like it because Lucifer likes it

Whenever Satan needs a parter to go to the events he gets invited to, Mc and Asmo are his first choices. He's closest with Asmo (Belphie is a second close) and doesn't mind the fanfare

Asmo and Beel often travel around the Devildom together. Asmo can't eat everything he orders since he just wants pictres so Beel is the ideal companion. Beel is also the perfect body guard

Solomon's current favorite liquor is Fireball and always has some on hand, but Luke always hides it because he thinks drinking is a bad habit

Barbatos definitely listens to heavy metal but everyone thinks he listens to classical music

If my grandmothers met the brothers, Beel would be their fav because he would clean his plate but if it was everyone, Simeon would take it home because he’s so charming even though he’s barely clothed

Everyone is so downbad for Mc I think it might scare off other people how much they hover. Like, a lower demon bothering you? Literally anything could happen to them, like they could be thrown in an endless loop of suffering, they could be made dirt poor for eternity, or they could be torn limb from limb <3 gotta love it

Asmo and Belphie make a deadly duo when to comes to trapping people/demons/angels. They both have the power to lure you in, and would probably take turn luring in victims for an evening as some sort of strange brother bonding. They both remind me of angler fish in a way. Asmo lures them with the pretense of sex and Belphie with relaxation, two things people can’t get enough of and they can stay calm enough to pull it off

Solomon has definitely made the brothers swap bodies or something crazy like that, on accident or not, you decide

Whenever Mc is feeling down, Diavolo offers his man titties as a nice pillow to relax on because he read somewhere once humans liked that

Beel is like a bull in a china shop so do not take him anyway where you need to be delicate. Belphie knows this, and will put him to sleep and carry him when they need to go somewhere like an antique shop by promising him a snack afterwards

Beel thinks Satan, Belphie, and Mc make the best weights out of everyone. Satan will just read, Belphie will just sleep, and Mc is like his personal cheerleader. However, he can and will lift all his brothers and Mc and the same time if he wants to, it’s just difficult to get them all in the same place at the same time

Thirteen, Belphie, and Satan got in a prank war once and it had to end in a draw since one party could not best the other. In the end, they made a final, collaborative prank and pulled it on Solomon

Mc once fell down the stairs in the human realm, ended up in the hospital, and sent the entire cast into panic so much that they took turns watching over them

Mephisto and Mc once had a night out drinking together and (somehow) returned to the HoL but were totally smashed. Lucifer forbid them from doing it again, but they still sneak out together and just crash at Mephiso’s place instead

[acourtofquietdreamers]

Elain Archeron Week: Hope

Art by Pinkykei.art and commissioned by me 💗

Imagine being Elain Archeron at the end of ACOWAR. She was just turned fae against her will, her body violated in the process and a stranger claiming her as his mate moments after. She’s forced to leave behind the life she was building for herself to live in a land she was raised to fear. She spent months plagued by visions and powers she doesn’t understand, leaving her almost catatonic as she’s trapped in a murky realm she can’t escape. She finally gains clarity on her new powers, but is then cruelly rejected by her fiancé. The same magical pot that turned her fae lures her out of camp under the false pretense that her ex-fiancé came back for her. She witnessed brutal battles that left her retching and then rammed a magical blade through a king’s neck, taking her first life. This same king murdered her father moments before.

After these events, she has every right to despair and crumble, but Elain Archeron chooses a different path. She cleans up her father’s lifeless body, picks him flowers, and tells him she loves him.

“Elain quietly washed his face. Combed out his hair and beard. Straightened his clothes. She found flowers—somewhere. She laid them at his head, on his chest. We stared down at him in silence. “I love you,” Elain whispered, voice breaking.”

She smiles and hopes.

“Elain nodded, smiling up at me, and it was tentative joy—and life that shone in her eyes. A promise of the future, gleaming and sweet.”

She dreams.

“What now?” Elain mused, at last answering my question from moments ago as her attention drifted to the windows facing the sunny street. That smile grew, bright enough that it lit up even Azriel’s shadows across the room. “I would like to build a garden,” she declared. “After all of this … I think the world needs more gardens.”

Elain’s ability to rise above everything that happened to her as she continues to dream of better days shows extreme resilience and I admire the way she looks to find and create beauty in the world, no matter how bleak things look. She’s holding a bouquet of irises in this piece and much like our quiet dreamer, irises symbolize hope and faith. They’re also one of the flowers Feyre painted on Elain’s dresser drawer so I thought they fit perfectly here! Thank you so much again, Pinkykei, for working on this piece for me. Happy Elain is the best Elain and you captured that beautifully 🥹💗

Please don’t repost without permission.

@elainarcheronweek

[lovelyhan]

— underlying pretense ⟢

pairing: wonwoo x reader

summary: being two of the most popular streamers across the board, your subscribers often speculate if your constant bickering with wonwoo has some underlying pretense. little did they know, the two of you have everything on display on a single, unsuspecting twitter account. 

word count: 10.3k words

tags: fuck buddies, not quite enemies to lovers but it's the thought that counts, streamer!wonwoo, streamer!reader, attempt at humor, smut

warnings: wonwoo n reader run a shared porn account bc they're filthy like that, alcohol consumption, graphic sexual content (minors dni!!)

notes: thank you sm for giving the teaser some love! this was just supposed to be pwp filth but...it grew itself a plot :| it also has some valorant jargon here and there but i'll come clean and say i've never played a second of that game my entire life LMAO

this is part of the game over series!

smut tags: sex tapes, unprotected sex, degradation, daddy kink, hard dom wonwoo, choking, overstimulation, aftercare

additional notes for the chat names!

texts: 🐈‍⬛ (ww), 🐈 (reader) discord: W0nwoo (ww), Koyahngi (reader) twitch: everyone_woo (ww), Koyahngi (reader)

taglist: @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @minnie-mouser22 - @seoksoop - @hanieb - @dreamhannies - @renjunphile - @thvhannie - @sysymei

Wonwoo doesn’t make it a habit to watch your streams for two reasons. 

The first is because you’re one of his tightest competitors in the streamer market. Giving you even a single view means that he’s contributing to your rise in popularity, which is very much detrimental to both Wonwoo’s pride and his career. 

Not that someone who only plays boring, open-world games can easily dethrone one of the most renowned competitive players on the platform, but he learned the hard way to never underestimate the charms of a cute girl who knows her way around both technology and the wallets of her subscribers.  

The second reason is…somewhat related to the first.

They’re all hanging out in Seungcheol’s apartment when Vernon opens up a Twitch stream to watch. Wonwoo is in the middle of a petty but intense Fruit Ninja competition with Mingyu on their phones, so he doesn’t get to see which streamer he’s watching. Vernon is the type that likes to give newbies a chance, though, so at that moment, Wonwoo couldn’t really care less.

But when he hears a familiar, high-pitched voice dish out her opening tagline for every stream, even Mingyu notices the way Wonwoo's face scrunches up with distaste.

“Can’t believe you pulled a Koyahngi and Chill while Wonwoo’s in the same room,” Seungcheol laughs when he returns with some beer. “We all know he’s allergic to the sound of her voice.” 

“Hey, I think it’s cute,” Vernon says. “Her outfit is, too. Look.”

Wonwoo, still stewing in his annoyance, doesn't move an inch, while Mingyu scoots closer—glancing over Vernon’s shoulder before letting out a wolf whistle.

“I really don’t see the benefit to playing Stardew Valley in maid-cat girl fusion cosplay, but at least she’s still in theme—oh, shit.”

Seungcheol looks at him once he settles himself on the sofa as well. “What’s wrong?”

“My phone died while I was in the middle of a game,” Mingyu whines. “Wonwoo-hyung, lemme borrow yours. We still haven’t decided who’s buying takeout tonight.”

While Wonwoo would’ve normally responded by scoffing at Mingyu to just borrow a charger from Seungcheol, he completely ignores him—stern eyes glued to his phone as he types away at rapid speed. The moment he hits send, Wonwoo hears a soft chime ring over Koyahngi’s lo-fi background music. 

You pause for a moment from whatever introductory segment you have planned and tell your viewers you’re just going to answer a text. Wonwoo’s friends are none the wiser when he receives a reply the moment you put your phone back down and interact with the chat.

🐈‍⬛: What did I say about wearing that outfit?

🐈: hmm, can’t remember :P

Fucking brat.

“Hyung?” Mingyu calls out after emerging from Seungcheol’s room—presumably to hunt for a charger—when he spots Wonwoo already halfway to the door. “Where are you going?” 

“Friend’s having set-up problems. He texted me asking if I could come over and take a look,” he reasons calmly as he slips his shoes back on. “I’ll head back here once I’m done.” 

Seungcheol pouts at him. “You better! Mingyu over here told us you’ve been busy with some girl, that’s why you couldn't hang out with the boys anymore.”

Vernon glances behind him to shoot Wonwoo an incredulous stare. “Wonwoo-hyung? With a girl? You’re not just making stuff up, right?” 

Mingyu immediately springs into action, blabbering something about how Wonwoo isn’t the heartless prude people thought he was, but Wonwoo really doesn’t give two shits about how his friends perceived his sex life. In fact, he was more interested in what’s playing on the screen of Vernon’s iPad—the view now unobstructed because the youngest has deigned to move away.

Again, the second reason why Wonwoo doesn’t watch your streams is related to the first. 

You’re literally his tightest competitor, but when he sees you all dolled up in your stupid fucking catgirl outfits, he’s suddenly no different from the degenerates vying for your attention in the chat.

And there is nothing else that Wonwoo hates more than being thrown off his game like that.

Funnily enough, he’s reminded of the very thing that started this constant back-and-forth he’s been toeing around with you for a better part of the year when he slips into the driver’s seat of his car. Just before he can drop his phone into one of the cup holders on the middle console, a Twitter notification lights up on screen. 

Wonwoo would’ve thought it was from the account dedicated to interacting with his viewers outside of streams. He’s got a decent number of followers there after all. Except the notifications for his official Twitter account have long been muted because of the massive online traction his tweets gain everyday. 

No, this one’s from another account entirely.

He feels no shame, opening up the most recent video you put up. What he does feel is a sick sort of pride at the sheer amount of engagement that the video received overnight—those faceless Twitter accounts in the replies looking for other desperate fucks to recreate it with. 

This is one of Wonwoo’s favorites. Part of the select few that he actually deigned to keep hidden in the gallery of his phone for…future use. He can barely contain his own heady arousal as he watches the same clip he took with his own camera the previous night. 

Those desperate little noises you made. The way your body writhed while getting a good dicking down. And how you were so fucking eager to slide Wonwoo’s cock back inside your cunt after having him cum all over your tits. 

Seeing you wearing the same goddamn fishnet bodysuit beneath your stupid maid costume on the stream not only made him pop a hard-on in the middle of boys’ night, but also called for drastic interventions, so to speak.

🐈‍⬛: Finish up that stream asap. I’ll be there in 20. 

🐈: fuck you, i just started 5 minutes ago

🐈‍⬛: You know I don’t like it when you talk back, right?

🐈: fine

🐈‍⬛: What?

🐈: …yes, daddy

🐈‍⬛: That’s what I thought.

It all began during a relatively harmless Discord call between their circle friends. 

Hanging out with other streamers isn’t such a foreign concept to Wonwoo. If you live in the same apartment as renowned social butterfly Kim Mingyu, you’re bound to get roped into his goings-on anyway, so Wonwoo relents every time—telling himself there’s no harm in meeting a bunch of new people, as long as they aren’t shitty teammates in-game.

Tonight, though, it’s Vernon who brings a new face to their server, and their Discord tag is something that Wonwoo recognizes almost immediately.

“Hey,” says one Koyahngi#0000, sounding a lot different than Wonwoo remembers. “It’s nice to meet you guys. Vernon said I could come hang out.”

The others in the voice call greet you with varying degrees of enthusiasm—from Jihoon’s mirrored but relaxed ‘hey’, to Soonyoung’s immediate invitation to team up with him on a new FPS game they’re trying out for the night.

As if having the same train of thought as Wonwoo, someone immediately pings him from the private server he shares with Mingyu, Seungcheol, and Vernon—one that Mingyu pathetically named as GAM3 BO1s. Wonwoo is quick to click on it more to eliminate the annoying red ping notification than anything else.

Min6yu: hey isn’t she the new streamer who always gets on wonu-hyung’s nerves

Min6yu: bc her voice is always so…squeaky

Min6yu: @W0nwoo

5coups: hasn’t it occurred to u that maybe that’s just part of the online persona

5coups: i think the reason why wonwoo is annoyed is bc she’s stealing his brand

5coups: you know, as the government-assigned twitch cat

V3rnon: you guys aren’t seriously talking about the person i invited in a server i’m also a part of, right…

5coups: gotta live with it, vern. you know gyu is the town gossip

W0nwoo: can we talk about this later?

W0nwoo: i can’t be the only one hearing soonyoung wailing in the call because we’re taking too long to form teams

The first few rounds progress exactly as Wonwoo envisioned them to be—with you being a constant dead weight to Soonyoung’s team, as Wonwoo’s comes out victorious each time. But it seems that the only person remotely miffed by your presence is Wonwoo, as everyone else in the call would resort to saying things like, that’s alright, you’ll get better with practice or come hang out with us more often so you can get used to it! 

Wonwoo isn’t a fan of the latter, but if the tides of favor are pitted against him, twelve to one, he can’t just overrule the majority like that. 

Of course, he doesn’t have a personal vendetta against newbies. That’s where everyone starts. Back in high school, Wonwoo used to be so bad at aiming his shots in FPS that Mingyu wouldn’t talk to him for an entire day because Wonwoo inadvertently embarrassed him in front of some girl he was trying to get with at the time. 

But there’s just…something about you that ticks him off.

You aren’t even using that pick-me-girl voice you typically do on your streams whenever you’re in a voice call with them, but it’s like you’re playing badly on purpose just so his friends could coo and coddle you. Wonwoo seems to be the only one who can see straight through the farce, and he doesn’t know how to fucking deal with it.

Or maybe he shouldn’t have to deal with it. He can just suck it up whenever one of his friends invites you to play games or fuck around in a Discord call. It’s not like anyone’s holding Wonwoo at gunpoint to interact with you. 

Except one day, Jeonghan thought it would be a wonderful idea to have a quote-unquote friendly Valorant competition on-stream. 

Wonwoo isn’t as opposed to it at first. These little contests have always been a constant since they all started gaming years and years ago. Chan, Minghao, and Jun left the call a bit early for some prior commitments, which means the opposing team would be Jeonghan, Joshua, Woozi, Seokmin, and Seungkwan. Should be easy enough.

But just when Wonwoo thought he’d be playing with his usual Valorant team consisting of Seungcheol, Mingyu, Vernon, and Soonyoung, he’s presented with a bit of a surprise.

“What?” Wonwoo blurts out of instinct once the news that you’re going to be replacing Soonyoung for today’s stream reaches his ears. “What’s wrong with Soonyoung?”

Jeonghan tuts at him in the call. “Now, Wonwoo-ah. Weren’t you the one who suggested switching things up every now and again? You’re the only one who seems miffed at the idea of getting to play alongside our new friend over here.”

“Yeah, and there’s a new banner coming out tonight in this gacha game I’m playing,” Soonyoung quips. “I’ve been sponsored with a fuck ton of cash to use on summons, so I gotta do the rolls live. Actually, I’m gonna head out now. Good luck!”

The moment Soonyoung leaves the call, you’re all-too quick to jump into the spotlight.

“Don’t worry, Wonwoo, I’ll try not to drag you down too much,” you tell him, and Wonwoo startles at the sound of your voice speaking to him directly. “You might have to carry me a little, though~”

He doesn’t like the idea of letting you have the last word, but Wonwoo would rather not antagonize you right before a joint stream with his buddies. Even if you seem to thrive off pushing his buttons whether knowingly or unknowingly, he has enough tact to keep things civil, especially in the middle of a voice call. 

At least, that’s the plan until all of you are several rounds into the first game.

“Do you have some sort of grudge against me?” Wonwoo mutters into his mic as his agent dies for the nth time on stream, while you—having played Sage since the beginning—stand over him without doing a single thing. “You haven’t tried to resurrect me even once.”

The jeering laughter of his other friends on the call inadvertently pisses him off, but the sound of you simpering is what makes his blood pressure rise into dangerous levels. “Oh? Sorry, I kind of forgot how Sage’s abilities work. My bad!” 

“This is our twentieth round,” he reminds you, eye twitching with annoyance. “And you literally just resurrected Cheol, like, a minute ago.”

“Maybe she doesn’t want to waste her ult on scrubs who can’t dodge headshots,” Mingyu snorts and Wonwoo has to keep himself from getting up from his chair just to give his best friend in the other room a knuckle sandwich. “I dunno if Wonwoo-hyung’s just terrible today or if Seungkwan actually got better at using sniper guns, but this is the most fun we’ve had in a while.”

“Speak for yourself, asshole,” Wonwoo grunts.

He can hear Seungkwan laugh as well. “It’s a compliment, but that somehow still feels like an insult—whoa! Shua-hyung, Vernon’s planting a spike in—”

Before Seungkwan can even finish the sentence, his agent is swiftly annihilated by yours from behind—making quick work of Joshua, who was hiding behind a cargo holder while you’re at it, too. Wonwoo can hear Jihoon belting out a string of very colorful language that Jeonghan might have to edit out once he cross-posts the stream on YouTube. But with all agents from their team having been eliminated, the twentieth round inevitably goes to Wonwoo’s team. 

Normally, Wonwoo would’ve been glad to celebrate his team’s victory, even if he was hard-carried for an entire round because of some careless choices early on. But the fact that his best friends are all-too enthusiastic with that last play you made did his peace of mind no favors.

“See, we told you you’d get better with practice,” Mingyu says, and Wonwoo would honestly like to digress.

You’ve never been bad at FPS. That’s just what you wanted everyone to think, so the moment you finally made groundbreaking plays, all attention would magnetize solely on you. Not that he’s been much of a glutton for the spotlight, though. Wonwoo simply despises people with hidden agendas, no matter how harmless, and the fact that he’s the only one who realizes this makes it even worse.

It doesn’t help that he has a hunch that whatever blatant dislike he has for you, is very much reciprocated on your end.

Your friends assumed the constant bickering you had with Wonwoo during these streams is nothing but good-natured banter at the end of the day.

However, Wonwoo knows much, much better that this is more than just to boost the viewer engagement because of how entertaining it is to watch the two of you argue about the smallest things. (Typical ‘everyone_woo and Koyahngi catfight’, as Soonyoung horrifically dubbed it.) 

There has to be something he can do to make you see yourself out of their circle as soon as possible. Pretending you don’t exist just won’t work anymore because: 1.) Wonwoo is very, very easy to get a rise out of and; 2.) You always seem to go out of your way just to fuck with him every chance you get. 

He needs to get rid of you, stat.

Don’t misunderstand, though. Jeon Wonwoo isn’t some sort of vengeful person who makes it his life’s goal to break you off from their circle entirely. It’s not like he’s actively looking for some dirt on you so he could finally make his idiot friends see the light about your real personality. He kind of just hopes that karma would do its thing without requiring Wonwoo to lift a single finger.

Eventually, that does sort of happen. Just not in the way he ever would’ve expected.

Wonwoo isn’t particularly fond of using Twitter. Aside from the fact that he doesn’t have much to say for his followers to see, the things that appear on his timeline can be a bit…questionable. 

From threads justifying that everyone_woo and min6yu_k have been dating since middle school, here’s why to the blatant Twitter porn that his other, more degenerate streamer friends keep bringing onto his feed with their likes—Wonwoo is yet to have a pleasant experience with the stupid app. He mostly just uses it to post stream schedules ahead of time, and thank the occasional follower when they make nice cat-themed merch for Wonwoo to see.

Wonwoo doesn’t know what compelled him to scroll through the dumpster fire that is his Twitter timeline on this specific day, at this specific hour. When he has nothing better to do, he usually just channels the boredom into working out. 

But today is more of a lazy day, and Wonwoo wants nothing more than to lounge on his gaming chair while waiting for something interesting to pop up. Why he’s expecting such a thing on Twitter is beyond him, but he’s already here anyways, right?

About five minutes through his infinite scrolling, it finally pops up. 

It’s another porn video liked by this guy he collaborated with for a Twitch event once—a rather…promiscuous person named Johnny. Now that he thinks about it, Johnny seems to be the main source of all the NSFW content popping up in Wonwoo’s feed, and he considers soft blocking him for a due timeline cleanse altogether. 

But when Wonwoo finally reads the caption attached to the video…

🔞 • @_asd624915 pov: you’re fucking k0y4hng1 from behind 🤤

He scoffs the moment he finishes reading it, attempting to just block both the person who posted the video and Johnny at the same time. But what catches Wonwoo’s eye is the red neon setting of the scandalous clip. 

Wonwoo doesn’t have to watch your streams to be familiar with the trademark neon red lights you had set up inside your gaming room. The streamer portrait at the bottom corner of your screen always contrasted with the games you played, and it was sort of an eyesore sometimes. 

As the degen who tweeted it described, the girl in the video is being railed from behind while her partner films the entire thing with his phone. Wonwoo couldn’t make out any other details because of the stark, neon red lighting, as well as the shitty 480p quality, so he figures that person just wants to project his sick fantasies about you on some amateur sex tape. 

Thinking about why Johnny would even like this sort of thing gives Wonwoo a headache, so he just quits the application altogether—deciding to finally drag his ass back to the gym so he can just let it pass.

It’s none of his business anyway.

Except it happens again a few days later.

The gaming community isn’t completely full of people with questionable tastes. There are still streamers like Saerom that Wonwoo would actually consider a friend outside of his usual circle. She used to be more popular back when battle royale games were still a hit, but Saerom has since lied low in the gaming scene, and only goes live on Twitch at least once every three months. 

So Wonwoo finds it a bit surprising to see her in the chat for tonight’s stream. 

His newer viewers don’t seem to know her, but some of the veterans on his channel all greet Saerom happily—spamming the chat with the cutest emojis available on stream. He thanks them for their discretion, as he can’t quite scroll back to read her first message. The chat is moving a little too fast, and things are getting a little too heated in the Valorant Icebox map. 

Wonwoo isn’t quite used to queueing solo anymore, so after carrying the rest of his team for thirteen rounds straight, he decides to cut the stream earlier than he usually would. He says goodbye to the viewers, not forgetting to give Saerom a quick special mention before ending the live. 

However, just when he’s about to shut off his computer, he gets a Whisper notification.

SAEROM: hey, you’re friends with koyahngi, right?

everyone_woo: Uh. Sort of. Why?

SAEROM: oh um

SAEROM: i’m sorry if this seems a bit odd…but i’m just concerned about her. 

Saerom’s response makes him arch an eyebrow. 

Did something happen to you? And is it so bad that a semi-retired Twitch streamer is reaching out to him just to check in on you?

everyone_woo: Is something the matter? 

everyone_woo: I haven’t really hung out with them in a while, so I wouldn’t know

SAEROM: oh, i see

SAEROM: it’s just that…there are some weirdos on reddit saying they discovered her sex tapes

SAEROM: i had something similar happen to me in the past even if it's complete bs, so i’m just looking out for her, yknow? 

SAEROM: their reasoning is so stupid too! just because the girl in the video has red mood lights, doesn’t mean it’s koyahngi, right?

Huh. She must be talking about the same video that Johnny unknowingly put on Wonwoo’s timeline a few days ago. He hasn’t really been paying attention to social media platforms that aren’t Twitch and YouTube, so he wasn’t aware that those clips managed to gain some traction in the degen community after all. 

everyone_woo: You know how fans and viewers can be sometimes.

everyone_woo: That’s the reason you laid back for a while, right?

SAEROM: well, yeah but just bc it’s a normal thing, doesn’t mean i have to just sit back and watch it happen again to other people

SAEROM: sigh sorry i’m rambling. all of this just doesn’t sit right w me, and you’re the only friend of hers that i’m still in touch with

SAEROM: you must think it’s weird for me to be fussing abt someone i’ve never spoken to before lol

Wonwoo feels quite the opposite, actually. It’s kind of relieving to know that there are still people like Saerom in this world—caring enough to be frustrated on your behalf even if the two of you have never interacted. 

everyone_woo: Would it make you feel better if I talked to her about it?

SAEROM: omg? you’d really do that?!

SAEROM: seoyeon was completely wrong abt you, you're not a cold-hearted guy at all!

everyone_woo: …So is that a yes or?

SAEROM: ok first of all, i’m not sure if that’s necessary ‘cause idek if she knows me 

SAEROM: you don’t have to Talk to her about it, but at least look after her for me? 

everyone_woo: Ok. I’ll try.

SAEROM: thank you, you’re the best! 

It’s only when he’s halfway through his evening shower that what Wonwoo just offered to do for Saerom finally dawns on him. The moment the realization hits, Wonwoo closes his eyes and let the steady spray from the showerhead prickle his face—breathing deeply through his mouth before...

“Fuck!”

Mingyu asks what the commotion was about when Wonwoo joins him at their two-seater dinner table. He probably heard him not-so gracefully lose it inside the bathroom, but Wonwoo is too pissed at himself to entertain Mingyu’s question, and thankfully, his roommate is sensible enough not to pry.

“Gyu, can I ask something?”

Wonwoo asks this in the middle of cleaning up after dinner. He’s in charge of doing the dishes, since Mingyu was charitable enough to cook dinner for both of them tonight. Mingyu glances at him from the couch, pausing the RPG he fed into the PS5. “Yeah?”

“If you have something important to tell a girl, where would you do it?”

Honestly, Wonwoo thought it would be alright to check up on you through a quick message on Discord. But the nature of your supposed…problem is a bit too sensitive to bring up in a casual conversation. He figures that talking to you in person would be more appropriate. Never mind the fact that every other instance Wonwoo has met you in real life consisted of him completely avoiding you. 

The sound of the water running is the only thing that can be heard throughout their apartment as Mingyu processes Wonwoo’s question with an unreadable look. It’s the first time he’s seen his roommate look so serious about something, so Wonwoo decides to give him some time to answer while he scrubs off some particularly tough fond sticking to the frying pan. 

In reality, Mingyu actually had a last-minute meltdown in his head the moment Wonwoo asked the question. His roommate and best friend for more than ten years never expressed feelings or interest in other people. So the fact that Wonwoo is coming up to him now, asking about where to confess his feelings is kind of a big deal.

(Okay, that’s definitely not what Wonwoo asked, but it might as well be, right?)

So to speak, Mingyu is trying to handle the situation as delicately as possible. He just knows the moment he lets even the tiniest laugh slip, Wonwoo would just scowl at him and drop the matter entirely. Which Mingyu does not want to happen, because surprise, surprise. He’s actually rooting for his normally stoic roommate! 

“Hmm, I think the new samgyeopsal joint downtown serves some mad bulgogi,” Mingyu suggests because barbecue is always a safe choice. Unless the girl Wonwoo’s trying to get with is a vegetarian, but that’s out of the scope of Mingyu’s concern right now.

Wonwoo scrunches his brows together. “Samgyeopsal? Do I really have to eat with her?”

His roommate looks at him like that’s a pivotal piece of information that everyone is aware of. Everyone but Wonwoo, it seems. 

“Duh! It’s to set the mood and stuff,” Mingyu says, and Wonwoo is starting to wonder if they’re talking about the same thing. “Anyway, it’s better to invite her out for dinner. Nothing beats grilling meat and sharing a beer after a long day, am I right?”

Mingyu isn’t exactly wrong about that. 

Every time they all went out for samgyeopsal and a few drinks, the atmosphere has always been oddly comfortable. He might not like you as a person all that much, but Wonwoo would want you to be comfortable before he asks about…the thing.

“Fine,” Wonwoo relents just as he’s finished putting the last plate on the drying rack. “Thanks for the input.”

When Wonwoo slowly pads back to his room, he wonders again if he should really exert this much effort for someone he doesn’t even get along with. Sure, he told Saerom that he’d check up on you, but…she insisted that he didn’t necessarily have to talk to you, right? 

All of a sudden, Mingyu starts clapping all the way in the living room—effectively startling Wonwoo from his quiet contemplation. 

“You can do it, hyung,” he says with an earnest smile. “I believe in you!”

Wonwoo simply shoots him a bizarre stare before slamming the door behind him, muttering about how strange Kim Mingyu could be sometimes. 

W0nwoo: Hey. Are you free tomorrow evening? 

Koyahngi: …did you send that to the wrong person or

W0nwoo: No?

Koyahngi: who are you and what did you to do wonwoo

Koyahngi: the Real wonwoo would rather throw an entire match than ask me if i’m free tomorrow evening

Koyahngi: you better start fessing up or i’ll tell mingyu

W0nwoo: Can you stop being weird about it? I just need to tell you something important.

Koyahngi: oh? professing your undying love for me already?

W0nwoo: Just answer the question.

Koyahngi: oooh you like ordering people around huh? but yeah i should be free after my stream.

Koyahngi: where are we going, lover boy?

W0nwoo: New samgyeopsal place downtown. Gyu said you already went with them once.

Koyahngi: okay, sounds like a date to me. 

W0nwoo: Whatever. Just don’t be late.

Of course, you make it a point to arrive twenty minutes late.

Wonwoo is already in the middle of grilling the restaurant’s famed bulgogi when you slide yourself into the seat adjacent to his, grinning so sweetly at him, Wonwoo almost rolls his eyes. 

You aren’t dressed the way you usually are in streams and conventions, having settled with a worn out sweatshirt and a pair of leggings. It’s a far cry from all those complex catgirl outfits that Wonwoo has no idea how you have the patience to put together every stream. The switch up throws him off a bit, but he doesn’t comment on it—content with grilling his meat in silence as you flag down a waiter to get your order in.

“So,” you start, lacing your fingers together, “what does the elusive everyone_woo want from little old me?”

He forgot that if you’re annoying in their damn voice calls, you’re ten times worse when you’re actually in front of him. Wonwoo breathes in the fumes from the grill, willing the succulent aroma of grilling meat to calm him down before he responds.

“You should eat first,” he insists, popping a piece of beef into his mouth. “You might lose your appetite if we talk about it right away.”

You snort. “You make it sound like you know a deep dark secret that can potentially ruin my life.”

…In a way, he does, yeah.

Wonwoo assumed that eating outside without the company of your mutual friends would make the entire ordeal awkward as hell. He’s used to bearing the brunt of uncomfortable silences, but it’s just like you’re built to never feel cumbersome in your life—easily carrying the conversation with someone you supposedly hate, and hates you right back. 

You’re not someone who just talks and talks without discretion either. You know perfectly well when to fill the silence and when to let that silence set. Given that majority of his interactions with you involved his twelve other friends, that’s not something Wonwoo would’ve noticed about you right away. 

Fine. Maybe you aren’t as bad as he thought.

“Oh, right. Do you remember Saerom? The famous battle royale player from a while back?” you suddenly ask, and Wonwoo nearly chokes on his beer. “She popped into my stream earlier. It was fucking crazy! I’ve looked up to her since I was still in college, and then I see her leaving little hearts in the chat.”

As Wonwoo attempts to compose himself, he feels slightly reassured by the thought of Saerom easing herself into your orbit. The fact that you consider her as some sort of idol might just be a bonus, too. He wonders if he still needs to carry out what he’s supposed to do tonight, but then again, he’s already here.

And he’d be lying if he isn’t the tiniest bit concerned about your PR once that Reddit fiasco starts spreading around. 

That evening, he learns that you’re somewhat of a lightweight. Just two beers in, and your face is already red, and you’re laughing way too much in between sentences. Wonwoo has a sinking suspicion that he won’t be able to get his main agenda over with tonight.

He takes it upon himself to help you into the passenger seat of his car, trying to keep your grappling hands off him as you whine about how this is the only opportunity that you’ll get to be in close proximity to Wonwoo before you go back to hating each other again in the morning. Wonwoo can only sigh in complete defeat—wondering why he ever thought doing Saerom this tedious favor was worth it in the first place.

Thankfully, you’re coherent enough to tell him your address, and much to Wonwoo’s chagrin, you live on the other side of the district. It makes him ponder about why you accepted his invitation if the restaurant was completely out of the way, but then again you’ve always been a little eccentric. 

“We’re here,” he says, nudging your knee once he pulls up in front of your apartment complex. “Can you climb up the stairs or am I going to have to be your human crutch again?”

Blinking out the sleepiness swimming in your eyes, you manage to beam at him with a smile that makes your eyes crinkle.

“Your duty is not over~”

You did not just fucking quote Sage in your drunken stupor. 

There are only two things that pisses off Wonwoo these days. The first is Mingyu’s penchant for leaving his dirty clothes in the bathroom after a shower. The second is every single thing about you, which is un-fucking-fortunate for him because he’s forced to play Good Samaritan while you repeatedly wail, “Even death cannot stop me,” and every single one of your favorite agent’s in-game voice lines for no one but him to hear.

Wonwoo distantly wonders, if those weirdos on Twitter and Reddit saw you now, would they still think about you the same way?

When he’s finally in front of your door, you fumble a bit for your keys—doing a pathetic little fist pump once the lock turns on the first try. Wonwoo sighs. 

“Y’know…” You peel yourself away from his grasp before leaning against the doorframe, staring at him in the fluorescent light of the hallway. “Saerom-unnie already mentioned the rumors going around about me after my stream.”

At that moment, Wonwoo feels like an anvil has been dropped into his stomach. He narrows his eyes, wondering if this is some sort of conversational bear trap that he’s in danger of falling for. But the look in your eyes is a little too glazed over to be anything but honest.

“What did she say?” he asks instead.

You hum, chuckling to yourself as you fold your arms in front of your chest. “That you went out of your way to check on me on her behalf. So sweet of you, Wonwoo. Here I thought you were just some asshole who’s never dated a girl in his life. That definitely explains why you’re always so mean to me.”

Wonwoo’s gaze turns stony in a split second—the familiar dregs of irritation prickling the back of his neck. “I’m assuming you’re at least sober enough to walk back inside your place without my help? If that’s the case, I’ll be going—”

“They’re all true, you know.”

Your voice came out so softly, Wonwoo would have missed it if he wasn’t as observant as he is. He scrutinizes you for a moment, deciding whether or not you’re messing with him again, but the way you hold his gaze so confidently tells him it’s the latter.

“Of course, I didn’t tell that to Saerom-unnie,” you sigh, carding your fingers through your hair. “But yep. The girl in the video that a bunch of creeps are saying resembles me? That’s actually me.”

The clip in question replays in the forefront of Wonwoo’s mind like he didn’t spend days forgetting about it altogether. He shakes his head when he catches himself thinking about it a little too long. 

“Okay.” He swallows the lump in his throat. “Why are you telling me then?”

You shrug. “Beats me.”

“You’re being very strange tonight, you know?”

“Yeah. I know,” you chuckle, leaning your head back while exposing your neck in a way that’s a bit too sensual to be normal. “Maybe it’s because I know the truth’s safe in your hands. Kinda weird if you think about it, though—trusting the guy who hates your guts with a dirty little secret that could end your entire career.”

If the context was any more different, Wonwoo would’ve agreed. This is what he’s been waiting for, right? To get enough dirt on you so he can convince his friends to just kick you out of your little circle altogether. 

But as insufferable as you might be, Wonwoo isn’t such a terrible person that he’ll throw you to the wolves without an ounce of remorse. He’s seen what scandals like this have done to the careers of old streamer friends he no longer has contact with. Even if you’re purposely living your life on the literal edge, he would never consider deliberately ruining it. 

He tells himself that the only reason he feels that way is because he refuses to get his hands dirty from…whatever you’ve got going on for yourself. Not because of outright concern for you. Definitely not.

“If you don’t have anything else to say to me,” Wonwoo starts, trying not to think about the flush on your cheeks while you’re slumped against the doorframe, “I’m heading back home.”

He turns around with full intention of leaving without hearing your answer. However, you completely anticipated his next move, immediately snapping into motion to grab Wonwoo’s wrist before he could even take a single step away. He grunts with surprise when you tug him closer—enough that your chests are flush against each other.

“I just remembered the other reason why I decided to tell you,” you giggle, running a finger along the rim of his glasses. “My old dom quit on me, so I need to bring in someone new to make more content with.”

Wonwoo’s eyes widen by the second as the implications of your words start to connect in his head. “What?”

You roll your eyes. “No need to act so prissy with me, Wonwoo. I make sex tapes on the side for the entire world to see. As of the moment, there’s no one to have sex with. You’re a semi-attractive guy that’s pressed up against me right now, and I’m pretty sure fucking around with you wouldn’t be too—”

“Stop. Holy shit. Stop talking,” Wonwoo rasps. He physically has to push you away so he can hear the sound of himself talking over the thundering of his heart.

You pout at him. “Don’t tell me you haven’t once thought about fucking me. I’m pretty sure your other friends have entertained the idea at least once.”

“Can you shut up for one fucking second?” 

That seems to do the trick. In fact, Wonwoo doesn’t miss the dazed yet pleased look in your eyes the moment he says the words with a bit more authority that he meant to channel into his voice.

Oh, you are so fucking sick.

“Look,” he sighs in between, dragging a palm over his face out of perplexion. “This probably isn’t a conversation we should be having in the hallway of your apartment complex. If your neighbors overhear, what then?”

“Hmph. You think I’ll let myself live in a place with paper thin walls? The soundproofing here is great, mind you. The couple that lives a few units over might be having the wildest sex imaginable and we’re none the wiser!”

“That’s not the fucking point,” Wonwoo growls. “You’ve obviously had too many to drink tonight, and you’re spilling all your life’s secrets willy-nilly. Don’t proposition me like that again when you’re not sober enough to deal with the consequences after.”

You simper, hands gliding to the lapels of his jacket as you tug him back. He has to physically bite the inside of his cheek when those fingers glide across the flimsy fabric of his t-shirt, grazing across every ridge of his muscled chest.

“Oh? Those consequences you speak of sound a bit too tempting to ignore.” 

Wonwoo looks at the pristine ceiling of the fourth floor hallway, as if praying for some sort of deliverance.

“Go home and get some sleep. Don’t make me repeat myself,” he says, testing the waters of…whatever the fuck this is, and Wonwoo finds relief in the fact that you actually do as he says, stepping away from him just like he ordered.

“Not even a good night kiss?” you ask—the teasing lilt in your voice yet to fade. 

Mustering all the self-restraint left in his body, he turns on his heel and walks away without another word.

Wonwoo doesn’t hear from you for a few days after that.

He convinced himself that the conversation he had with you just outside your apartment was nothing but a fever dream. Though he only had one glass of beer, as he’s supposed to drive home, he can’t really underestimate the effects of alcohol. 

But just when he thought his life had finally resumed his preferred cadence of normalcy, another unexpected visitor hops onto his latest stream—sending the chat into a complete frenzy.

Unlike the mixed reactions that Saerom’s arrival last week incurred, seeing the renowned Twitch streamer Koyahngi leaving cat emojis in Wonwoo’s stream chat is enough to drive his entire viewerbase up a wall. 

Thankfully, he isn’t playing a game that requires 200% of his utmost concentration—having given the open-world gacha game that Soonyoung keeps begging them to play a chance—so Wonwoo gets to peer over at the messages flooding across one side of his screen. One in particular catches his attention: why are a bunch of hot girls dropping by wonwoo’s stream these days? 

Wonwoo ultimately decides to brush them all off for now.

However, unlike Saerom who just observed his stream quietly after making her presence known, you constantly made comments about his overworld progress—saying that he’s building this character wrong, and that there’s an easier way to go around the obstacles; he just needs to use his head. Wonwoo forgot that this is a game that you also played frequently, and having to be on the receiving end of all your unsolicited advice made him want to end the stream altogether.

Except he can’t dish out his snarky rebuttals like he typically would on their friendly Discord calls because, wow, his viewers really were eating this shit up. Since the two of you typically argued on your friends’ streams and not his, Wonwoo hasn’t seen the gravity of these splintered interactions until now.

His eyes parse through the fast-paced comments flying into the chat, catching on a few questionable ones, like someone begging for the TikTok fans to make edits, the fanfic writers to create stories about the greatest enemies-to-lovers couple in Twitch history, and so on. 

Wonwoo has been making his livelihood off the internet for years, but he still can’t get used to how strangely people behave sometimes.

He half-expects you to continue pestering him even after he finishes up with the stream, but his Discord notifs remain oddly silent, and Wonwoo decides to just hit the gym when Mingyu asks if he wants to come.

After he’s satisfied with today’s session, Wonwoo waits for Mingyu by the locker room, as his roommate is still getting their usual trainer to spot him while he does his bench presses. But when he fishes his phone out of his gym bag, he’s surprised to see a couple of messages from yours truly.

Koyahngi: sooo are you free tonight?

Koyahngi: i haven’t posted anything in a while, my followers must miss me

Wonwoo scowls at his phone once he reads the contents of your messages—earning himself a wary stare from this one person that passed him in the hall. Clearing his throat, he schools his expression into complete neutrality as he types in a response.

W0nwoo: Why do I have to get roped into this again? Can’t you just make your own content by yourself? 

Koyahngi: they’re more into seeing the actual thing that just me playing with myself

Koyahngi: that, and i’m kind of really horny these days

W0nwoo: …So this is your idea of a booty call?

Koyahngi: pretty much, yeah.

“Wonwoo-hyung, you wanna get some chicken before we head home?” he hears Mingyu call out at the other end of the hall.

He has half the mind to tell him that stuffing his face with fried food right after working out is counterproductive as hell, but then again, it’s not like Wonwoo can reprimand him when he won’t even be there to begin with.

“I…actually have other plans.”

…

What the fuck is he doing here, honestly?

It’s not like Wonwoo doesn’t have any sort of sex drive or anything. In fact, the night after he dropped you off at your apartment, he might’ve had to…relieve himself during a quick shower before bed. Not that he’d ever admit to ever doing it. Letting off some steam every now and again is understandable though. 

But this? Sitting at the foot of your bed as you got ready for him to fuck you silly?

This is a different breed of foolishness.

He seriously considers sneaking out of your apartment before you can emerge from the en-suite. Wonwoo can just shoot you a quick message, saying that this was all a mistake, and that he hopes you can find a more suitable partner to fuck around with. Because…he doesn’t just do these kinds of things with other people. He wouldn’t go as far as calling himself a romantic, but casual sex has never really interested him—insisting that there are other things in life to focus his energy on.

However, you come out of the bathroom before he can even hope to make up his mind, a cute robe patterned with pink kittens hiding your body from view. You muster up a kind smile as Wonwoo swallows thickly.

Yep. No backing out now.

“You look so tense for someone who just came from the gym,” you chuckle, making a beeline for your desk to grab your phone. “Aren’t work outs supposed to be a form of stress relief or something?”

“They are, but a certain someone is stressing me out again.”

“Hm. I wonder who?”

A few moments later, the mood lights hooked up to the ceiling start to glow, and you pad over to flip off the light switch. Almost immediately, the room is plunged into near-darkness, and Wonwoo feels himself take in a sharp breath when he sees how the red lighting paints your objectively cute robe in a more…lascivious light. 

“So how do you wanna do this?” you ask before finally making your way towards the bed—planting a knee on either side of Wonwoo’s hips before hoisting yourself up to sit on his lap. He doesn’t dare to move an inch. 

“Why are you asking me? Aren’t you going to direct how your own content plays out?” he questions gruffly, keeping his palms firmly at his sides despite the sudden compulsion to place them on your hips. 

You chuckle as you make a show of biting your bottom lip—one finger trailing down the dri-fit shirt that Wonwoo changed into after showering at the gym. “I don’t think you understood what I was telling you the other night. You’re my dom, Wonwoo. You get to call the shots, not me.”

He closes his eyes with a withering sigh, wondering what sort of atrocities he’s committed in a past life to warrant having to end up in this situation.

“Don’t we have to get this on film? Can’t exactly hold a phone when you’re all over me like this.”

A soft giggle reverberates in your chest before you roll your hips, earning an exasperated groan from the man below you. This time, Wonwoo can’t contain the need to touch you, and his hands migrate to your thighs as he presses his hips further against yours—eyes never straying too far from your own. 

“You don’t have to think about that just yet,” you murmur, trailing your lips along the cut of his jaw. “Let’s get a feel of each other first. I’ll let you know what I like, and you let me know what you like, yeah?”

It gives him so much vertigo, seeing you like this under the same red lights he’s always found disparaging to catch a glimpse of in your streams. Wonwoo is tethering dangerously across the tightrope of his self-control, but when you lace your fingers around his nape to press your foreheads together, Wonwoo realizes the effort is completely futile.

“What do you say, daddy?” 

He doesn’t have a daddy kink. He knows he doesn’t. He’s always found it weird how others got off at the prospect of calling their sexual partners such a thing. 

So why the hell is Wonwoo crushing your lips together like he’ll die if he doesn’t kiss you right this second? Why are his fingers gripping the swell of your ass as tightly as they are—grinding you down on his hardening length with a growl resonating deep in his chest? And why does he feel a rush of pride surge straight into his skull when you whimper against his mouth?

As he busies himself with devouring your lips, you shrug off the sleeves of your robe, making Wonwoo peel himself away for a second to get a glimpse of what you’ve been hiding underneath. When he’s rewarded with the spill of your bare breasts, he takes a sharp breath through gritted teeth—rolling his hips upward at the thought that you’ve chosen to forego underwear altogether.

“What’s your safeword?” he rasps, mouth hovering above your chest before he goes in for the kill, nipping and biting at your skin with the intention for it to hurt. A sick sense of satisfaction ripples in his chest when you moan out his name in response, and Wonwoo all but secures a strong arm around your waist to keep you from falling off.

“Red,” you mewl, all while you discard your robe altogether, rutting your bare cunt against his middle. 

He sighs, reaching between your thighs to get a feel of just how ready you are for him. Wonwoo nearly bites down harshly when he finds you wet and wanting—your essence already trickling out of your needy hole and onto his sweats.

“Fuck,” he groans, lathering his free hand in your slick. “So fucking wet for me already. Did you touch yourself before I got here?” 

“Mmmm,” you purr, taking his bottom lip between your teeth. “Fucked myself with a little toy thinking it was you.”

You assumed your eagerness to finally lie with the guy you’ve been trying to get with for months might spur him further into action. But something unspeakable shifts in the air and for a moment, Wonwoo is so silent, you figure he didn’t hear what you just said. Just when you’re about to call out his name, however, Wonwoo quickly maneuvers you off his lap, shoving you back onto the mattress with little heed for your comfort. 

At first, you thought he was about to manhandle you into oblivion, but when the searing warmth of his body departs from yours, you look up at him with an inquisitive scowl.

“Sounds to me like you don’t need my cock after all,” he says coolly, yet fails to mask the anger sparking in his dark eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that? You’re obviously content with using a toy instead, right?”

“Wonwoo,” you groan, frustrated that he’s playing games now when you’re finally so goddamn close to what you’ve been hoping to happen for months. “Can you not go too deep into the domspace because I really, really need you to rail me like, right fucking now.” 

“Shut up,” he scoffs before crossing his arms together. If it weren’t for the outline of his cock bulging through his sweats, you would’ve thought he was genuinely displeased with you. “Cocksluts like you don’t have the right to make demands.” 

Fuck. 

You only had a hunch back then, but Jeon Wonwoo might just be the dom of your dreams.

Instead of playing the brat like you always do, you let out a helpless whimper, sliding down to the floor before crawling to Wonwoo’s feet. He watches your movements with an impassive stare, looking so immovable even as you prop yourself up on your knees to nuzzle his clothed cock.

“Then what can I do for you, daddy?” you ask, fingers catching purchase on the strong flesh of his thighs. The heady scent of musk and detergent pervades your senses, and it takes every ounce of patience for you to keep yourself from pulling his sweatpants down and take him into your mouth. “You’re not just going to stare at me all night while you’re all pent up like this, right?”

Whatever semblance of playfulness you deigned to parade around Wonwoo is quickly snuffed out when he roughly grabs your chin, forcing you to meet his ticked off gaze.

“I don’t think you understood your own words when you said I’m the one calling the shots here,” he growls, and you can feel another gush of slick seeping between your thighs. “You’re not allowed to talk until I say so. Keep those cheeky fucking comments to yourself or I’ll leave you high and dry. Got that?”

Oh my god, he’s fucking perfect.

When Wonwoo finally gets to fuck the frustration out of his system, he lies next to you on the sheets—waiting for you to swim out of that post-orgasmic high as he inspects the damage he’s done to your body.

It’s been a while since he’s gone out of his way to hook up with someone, so he isn’t surprised to see the plethora of love bites and bruises he ended up scattering across your skin. Wonwoo feels particularly pleased with himself when he sees the deep rise and fall of your chest—the bloom of hickeys you’ve amassed on your breasts still recognizable even under the deep red lights. 

“I think I might be in love with you,” you sigh wistfully once you finally come to your senses. Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “I haven’t come that hard in months, Jesus.”

“Compliment me any more and it’ll get to my head,” he says before adding—much more sincerely than he usually sounds— “Are you okay?”

Turning around to face him, you pull him down for another kiss. Wonwoo grunts against your lips but snakes a hand around your waist anyways. 

“I think you’re just about ready to film us now,” you whisper into the kiss, licking into his mouth in a way that’s stoking the ebbing flames of his arousal back to life. “Can I borrow your phone?”

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow at your request but moves to the nightstand where he unceremoniously discarded his phone before fucking you stupid. There are a couple of texts and other Discord notifications on screen that he completely ignores in favor of handing it to you unlocked. 

You adjust your position on the mattress, easing your legs apart with the silent invitation for Wonwoo to come between them again. He can hardly believe that you’re still looking at him with the same bedroom eyes that you’ve been giving him since the night began. Just how much cock can you take, really?

“The mood lights shouldn’t be too dark, so don’t use flash,” you instruct him, handing Wonwoo his phone back with the Camera app already up and running. “Other than that, you’re free to do whatever you want to me, daddy.”

Wonwoo heaves yet another internal sigh as he positions himself between your legs, rubbing his half-hard cock along your ruined cunt. With a bated breath, he hits the Record button.

He hasn’t watched a lot of Twitter porn for a dozen reasons, but Wonwoo figures he shouldn’t get your face in the frame. Now that he’s finally in the shoes of whoever was fucking you from behind in the first clip he saw, he realizes it’s a little hard to keep filming this debauchery while subsequently trying not to lose his mind from how good your pussy feels. And he isn’t even inside you yet. Fuck.

The sensual way you move your body to meet his shallow thrusts makes him want to just chuck his phone back on the nightstand and ravish you all over again. But Wonwoo doesn’t do that. He simply continues with his ministrations, relishing in the cock-drunk look in your eyes once you reach out to pump his length in your smaller hand. 

You don’t talk; neither does he. All that matters is the sensation of his cockhead sliding across your wet pussy lips while you jacked him off with a hazed out look in your eyes. 

A possessive part of him takes great pride in knowing he’s the one making you feel like this; that he’s the reason behind that depraved expression you’re wearing. The moment you guide Wonwoo’s cock back into your tight channel, he uses his free hand to clamp his strong fingers around your throat—pressing down with just enough pressure to make you feel lightheaded.

The squelch of your cunt is sickeningly sweet, especially knowing that you still have his load inside you. Wonwoo is a bit too eager as he fucks his spend even deeper into your abused cunt, all while maintaining a steady grip on his phone as he captures all this on camera. He’s ruined you so badly that each time he slides himself to the hilt, he can see the creamy ring of your mixed juices at the base of his cock.  

You’re driving him so fucking crazy, he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

After a few experimental thrusts, Wonwoo picks up the pace—the grip he has on your throat tightening ever-so slightly. Just enough to have your eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

Fuck it. 

He tosses his phone somewhere on the bed before moving to hook your legs over his shoulders. You shoot Wonwoo a bewildered look, a question already resting on your tongue, but the words are ground to dust when he pushes himself back into your sopping heat—deep enough that you can feel the fat head of his cock graze your cervix. 

“Fuck, daddy!” you wail, completely helpless as Wonwoo pounds into you with unforgiving vigor. “So good… So fucking good.”

If you uttered those words the first time he fucked you earlier, he would’ve choked you out for going against his ‘don’t speak unless I say so’ rule. But Wonwoo is just so obsessed with the tight fit of your cunt fluttering around his cock that he can’t even find the headspace to be mad about your disobedience. 

“You’re such a greedy fucking slut,” he growls, nipping the lobe of your ear. “Can’t get enough of this cock? You had to come onto me and let me ruin you twice in a single night?” 

The only response you can come up with is a high-pitched keen of his name as Wonwoo feels your cunt pulsate around him, squeezing his cock so fucking tight as you lose yourself to your nth orgasm. He hisses as he pulls himself out of the velvet heat of your pussy, jerking himself a few times before he’s painting your tits with white ribbons of cum. 

Wonwoo delights himself with the sight of his emission shining atop the marks he’s left on your body, and even entertains the thought that he won’t ever mind seeing such a sight again.

It takes about thirty minutes for you and Wonwoo to clean up—at his insistence, of course. After all, if he’s going to break you apart, it’s only fair for him to put you back together once all’s said and done. 

For some reason though, you haven’t stopped looking at him weirdly as he runs a clean washcloth all over your spent body. Like the concept of aftercare is something completely foreign to you. But instead of bringing it up, you ask Wonwoo if you can borrow his phone again, and all he gives you is a small grunt of affirmation before padding over to the en-suite to get himself cleaned.

“You didn’t stop recording when you tossed it away?” He hears you laugh from the bedroom. “Oh my god…”

He didn’t…? Oh, well. He was too goddamn horny to notice anyway.

Wonwoo gets dressed while you continue tinkering with the video he took on his phone—airdropping it to yours so you could do a couple of changes. Turns out, there are a couple of instances where your face got caught in the frame, and you’re going to have to crop it and trim out the part where you’re audibly moaning each other’s names if you want to keep committing these acts of deviance on the side. 

“Gotta say though, you’re a natural at getting my good angles,” you say, sounding completely pleased. “I wouldn’t mind having you over again~” 

“Don’t push your luck.” He scoffs as he fastens the string of his sweats and puts his glasses back on. 

But the two of you know he’ll be back either way.

When Wonwoo gets back to the apartment, he finds Mingyu lounging in front of the TV despite it being almost three in the morning. Something about marathoning a new drama that Wonwoo might’ve heard in passing. As exhausted as he is, he decides not to reprimand Mingyu altogether and marches straight to his room.

But just as he’s about to collapse straight into bed, his phone buzzes with another notification that makes him click his tongue in annoyance. It’s been going off non-stop since he left your place, but he didn’t pay it much mind since he assumed they were all Twitch and Discord notifs. Some of his friends did like pinging him unnecessarily even in the dead of night.

Although when Wonwoo realizes they’re Twitter notifications, he pauses.

He muted the notifs on his Twitter account ages ago. 

Confused, he takes off his glasses and places them on the nightstand, eyes narrowed when he realizes a new account has been logged onto his phone. An account that just happened to tweet the same video he just took on his phone not two hours earlier. 

🐈 • @ goodcat_badcat miss me? 💦

As fate might have it, a text notification hovers on top of his screen—with a contact name he doesn’t remember putting himself, but recognizes all the same. 

🐈: hope you enjoyed the show, daddy <3

As he reads through the text, he wonders distantly when this will all come back to bite him in the ass.

But then again, Wonwoo really couldn’t care less.

part one - part two - part three - part four

end notes: hehe i really enjoyed writing this, so i hope you enjoyed reading as well! this is actually slated to have a second part sometime in the future, but for now, i think it'll do well as a standalone. i'll let wonwoo and reader fool around with their spicy sex life first before giving them ~feelings~ to worry about ^__^

this is part of the game over series!

[comatosebunny09]

oral fixation | astarion a.

summary: he loves your lips. especially when they’re so eagerly wrapped around him. genre(s): erotica, romance warning(s): female anatomy described, oral fixation, face-fucking, bj, jealousy, possessiveness, bodily fluids, choking, cum-eating, brief dacryphilia, explicit language, alcohol and tobacco use (hookah), blood drinking now playing: criminal - taemin notes: please thank @nanaoise08squad for helping me write this! also, please let me know if i missed any warnings! hope you enjoy, lovelies! screenshot credit

Lips.

Your lips.

They’re his favorite—if anyone ever bothered to ask what he enjoys most about your body.

Well, other than the devastating clench of your pussy, of course.

They’re pillow-soft. Thick. Flushed like rose petals. Cute when they’re pulled into that warm smile. 

Alluring, stretched into a thin line as you glare at your enemies. 

Exquisite, stained with blood and bruises and split—he can’t help wanting to lick them whenever he sets his eyes on them, even in the heat of battle.

Perfect and sweltering, curled around him. Dribbling with globs of spit and pre-spend as you take him down your throat. His favorite of all. And those pretty, garbled sounds you release when he presses deeper, testing your gag reflexes, amplifies his love for them.

Your sinfully gorgeous lips.  

Gods.

Astarion bites his lip, threatening to draw blood. 

He observes you through the wispy haze of tobacco smoke staining the lounge, trained on every twitch and spasm of your mouth beneath the dulled lighting. Every smile, every scowl. Every dart of your tongue from betwixt them, chasing wine that glides down the corners.

Your tongue leaves a sheen of saliva in its wake. Astarion swallows thickly. Unconsciously flashes back to how you make his cock gleam like that. Glistening and flushed an angry red when you release him with a lewd pop after swallowing him down like a fucking pro.

Astarion shudders, his eyes rolling into the backs of their sockets. His fingernails pull at the plush, crimson cushions beneath him, a groan trying to make itself known.

You’ll be the death of him; he’s sure of it. 

Astarion sulks, swirling the contents of his goblet, brows weighed down in the middle by something like irritation. 

You’re doing this on purpose. Enticing him. Vexing him. Your eyes occasionally find him across the lounge. Twinkle with mischief below bowed lashes before flitting back to your company. Company he wishes would piss off.

He can think of better ways to occupy your mouth that don’t involve meaningless conversation.

However, everyone’s gathered around you to celebrate the famed Hero of Baldur’s Gate. Despite Astarion’s protests, you insisted on staying. 

You are a beacon of hope. An idol perched on a plinth, the Madonna della Pietà. Who would he be to steal you away from your adoring fans?

He just wishes his trousers weren’t so unbearably tight. Wishes he wasn’t straining against the seam of them, throbbing and pulsing with beads of pre-cum staining the thick material. Plagued by memories of the beautiful sounds he evokes from your mouth instead of your airy laughter filling his head once again.

Astarion crosses his legs with a petulant sigh and shoves a pillow onto his lap to mask his growing need. Quietly simmers, downing what remains in his cup. He swipes the back of his hand across his chin to clean up errant dribbles of wine, uncaring of how unsightly he must appear.

He’s in no mood for pleasantries. No mood to entertain others, waving off the belly dancers who try vainly to charm him with the wind of their hips. He’s too busy boring holes into the arm draped about your shoulders—one of your fans getting a little too cozy. 

If looks could kill, he would’ve murdered this imbecile a thousand times over.

His vision glosses red when the man’s thumb swipes at the corner of your lips under the pretense of cleaning off some wine.

“There you go, lass,” he murmurs, the rough pad of his thumb grazing your chin. “Good as new. And still just as pretty.” 

There’s no mistaking the gleam in his eye. The lecherous cant of his lips. A look Astarion knows all too well, having pinned you with it so many times himself. 

You chuckle something tense, finding Astarion’s gaze through the discord.

Astarion moves on instinct. Soundless as a panther, pushing through the harem of dancers that had gathered around him. Parts through the revelers assembled at your feet, and they look up at him with varying degrees of alarm.

With an abrasive sound pinched from his lungs, Astarion plucks you from the settee with a possessive hand encircling your wrist. Murmurs a curt excuse us, daring the man who touched you to protest with a predatory glare over his shoulder. 

The hairs of your neck stand ramrod stiff. A pleasant, cooling sensation pools in your belly. Trickles southward into your underwear, and you throb.

You do so love it when he gets like this. Green-eyed and seething.

You bid the other patrons farewell, unable to disguise the sinister arc of your lips. Toddle behind your beloved, your body still buzzing from the wine, your head still spinning from the nicotine. Astarion finally tugs you beneath layers of sheer, burgundy curtains, far from the grasp of the lounge’s other clients.

“Astarion,” you gasp as the world twists around you, and he pulls your stumbling, giggling self before him.

You’ve hardly any time to admire your surroundings, the swell of sound from the longue muddled and blotted out by the clipped growl rumbling in Astarion’s chest. 

You only have the gleam of his irises and the flash of his teeth as warnings before you tumble backward onto a mass of pillows, shoved into them by your beloved. You clamber to your elbows, breaths labored, pupils dilated. Again, you’re pushed into the satiny cushions as Astarion crawls overtop, fingers winding around your jaw and neck to hold you in place for him to ravage you.

He slots himself between your legs, and it’s like he’s always been there. Feasts on your mouth, pushing past the barrier of your teeth in pursuit of your tongue, thumb pressing against your larynx. He pours the most relieved sound between your lips when he finds it. Entices it into an ardent dance, and Gods, you’re so warm and wet here. He can’t help how he bears down, hips rolling like waves licking the shoreline as he presses against the stitching of your breeches.

You moan in tandem, and the air punches from your lungs, the heels of your feet digging into his back as you twine your legs around his waist. 

His other hand pulls and bunches up your clothing in search of the supple glide of your skin. Groans something satisfied when the hardened pads of his fingertips find the xylophone of your rib cage, easing upward. He grazes the underside of your breast, and he kneads and rolls your nipple with slow, meticulous circles, luring the prettiest little whine from your throat.

“Astarion,” you recite, clawing at the bindings of his breeches. It’s the sweetest supplication to his ears to hear you begging so wantonly for him. To see he isn’t the only one who missed the hot press of your body to his.

He abandons your mouth to blister your neck with kisses, fangs nipping at your clavicle, thumbs cruising down the dip of your stomach in search of your hips whilst you arch your back. He sighs around your nipple when your soft hands close around the head of his cock, tugging and squeezing, your thumbs generous as they spread pre-spend around him. Instinctively, Astarion ruts into the scorching clasp of your hands, breathing hot against your flesh, rolling your other nipple between lithe fingers.

It’s almost embarrassing how desperately he yearns for you. How he leaks and whimpers while you fist him, and his canines sink into the doughy flesh of your tit, pulling a yelp from your mouth. He licks over the wounds in apology, hips pinning your waist to the floor. He’s dizzied and overwhelmed, and the wind of your waist isn’t helping matters. 

The succulent tang of your blood provokes his tastebuds, and his hips paint a rhythm of their own volition as he pistons against you. He glances up whilst your head crashes into the pillows, your lips glistening and parting with a breath, and your lids shuttered against the wave of ecstasy sifting through your spine.

“Astarion,” you breathe, pulling so nicely on his cock. Swallow. “Astarion, please. My mouth. Need, I—you…want you in my mouth.”

How sweet you sound, begging for your mouth to be stretched wide and violated. The jumble of your words is endearing. Usually, Astarion would tease you for your impatience. But he hasn’t the tolerance to, having gone without your lips sucking him in for days.

Astarion pants, scrambling to his knees, straddling your shoulders, and tugging his breeches down, down, down until his impressive girth springs free of its confines. It slaps intimidatingly against his abdominals, a pretty, gossamer string of pre dribbling from the slit towards your chin, and his cock twitches at your eagerness.

There’s reverence in your stare. Hunger as your mouth opens and closes, and your perfect body squirms beneath him, anticipation lancing through you. You squeeze your thighs together to ward off the delicious, sparkling rush of endorphins collecting between them. 

You watch as Astarion handles himself, his hand swallowing up the bulk of his cock whilst he pumps himself, head thrown back, the tendons of his neck flexing. 

He groans something feral and desperate, his cock grinding against the hot, sticky pucker of your lips. 

“Fuck,” he breathes. “Fuck, darling. Open your mouth. Now.”

He spares you a few more stuttered rolls of his pelvis. Taps the turgid flesh of his cock against your tongue before feeding the swollen, sensitive head between your lips. 

“Oh, Gods,” Astarion sighs. Draws back, his body shivering as your mouth releases him with an obscene pop. You flitter your tongue over the slit, chasing the briny edge of pre-cum.

He peers down at you through furled lashes, irises smoldering like liquid spilled over hot coals. He chuckles something breathy, easing back into the hot suction of your mouth.

“Eager, aren’t we, darling?” he husks. Cheeky as he drives himself deeper until your jaw clicks, your eyes roll back, and your whimper vibrates around him.

Your pussy clenches, and you undulate your hips off the floor. Grip the taut globes of Astarion’s ass, urging him further inside until he agitates your gag reflexes. 

Your throat constricts around him, a fist-like vice that brings him barreling forward onto his hands. And he’s a pretty, panting mess hovering over you, alabaster curls falling over his eyes, sweat gliding down the tips, brows creased in anguish.

He gives you minimal time to adjust before taking a fistful of your hair and pinning it to the pillows, keeping you in place so he can fuck into your mouth. 

Slowly, he draws his hips backward until only the head rests on the palate of your tongue. You whine petulantly before Astarion pushes back in, building a steady tempo thereafter, your lips stretching so wonderfully to accommodate him each time.

His mouth forms around silent ohs. Breaths choppy as he fucks your face, and saliva meddled with pre-spend bubbles on your cheeks. 

Your eyes gloss over with tears, your throat rubbed raw, jaw aching. But you squeeze his ass ever tighter, urging him to use you. To chase that cresting wave of pleasure. You could die like this, with his cock distending your throat and your pussy weeping and begging to be stuffed.

“Gods, fuck, fuck, fuck,” chants your lover. His hips stutter, and his cock throbs on your tongue, fingers gripping your hair in a way that’s almost bruising. You know he’s nearing his peak, and you take to kneading his weighted, tight balls to help steer him to the edge.

It takes but a few more thrusts into the opulent warmth of your mouth before he paints your throat in thick, syrupy steaks of white. He pushes a groan through clenched teeth, eyes screwed shut whilst he cranes his neck back, exhaling his release.

You choke, the hot rush of tears blistering your cheeks. But Astarion holds your mouth in place as you thoroughly milk him, dumping the last vestiges of his cum down your throat. 

He slowly unsheathes himself. Crawls down to straddle your hips, petting through the riot of your hair and drawing your swollen mouth into an apologetic kiss. He tenderly entwines your tongues together, the briny tang of his cum coaxing a moan from him.

Astarion rolls onto his back beside you, giving you time to catch your breath. And with your lashes dewy and wet and your lips abused, you chuckle something satisfied. Astarion looks at you warily before laughing himself, seeking out your hand to lace your fingers together.

“I should make you jealous more often,” you muse once your laughter peters. You roll onto your side, propped on your elbow, cheek perched on your hand whilst you run your finger down the length of his arm. A cattish grin rounds your lips.

Astarion scoffs, avoiding your stare. “Jealous? Me?”

You give him a pointed look.

He flinches beneath the weight of your glare, a nervous smile twitching his lips. “Well…maybe just a little.”

You sit like this for a while longer, admiring the flutter of his lashes and the peachy hue of his cheeks. Finally, he breaks the comfortable silence, pinning you with a scarlet-spun gaze. 

“We should go.” Astarion slowly sits up, a smirk taking residence on his lips as he tugs you into the circle of his arms. “I’ve much more in store for you, my love. Things I can’t be bothered to do…here.”

You shiver at the thought, boneless as your lover hauls you to your feet. You fix your clothes and hair as best you can before Astarion leads you back to the main lounge, twin smiles adorning your lips.

Astarion swings by the bar to drop some coin onto the counter to pay for your drinks. Catches the eye of the man who’d had his arm around you earlier, and his mind sparkles with a sinister idea.

He draws you against him, your breath coming out in a gasp before he takes possession of your cheeks and lures you into a soul-siphoning kiss. One of tongues and teeth and sloppiness, and you find your thighs rubbing together again to curb the insistent throb between them. 

You whimper into his mouth, and Astarion fixes the man with a sinister look over your shoulder as he grips your ass and squeezes. Something of a warning, a threat. 

Touch her again, and I’ll have your head on a pike. 

masterlist

[teal-fiend]

Mistakes Happen

Content: vore, accidental digestion, unwilling prey,

Summary: A pred who has bad coping skills

–

The dim light of your living room flickers against the recently cleaned, dark wood floors. It’s late, and you’d intended for tonight to be a bit of fun—for you. Not for your guest. 

You didn’t mean anything malicious by it, you just wanted to prove a point. You look down at your stomach, still flat, knowing that’s about to change. 

Your guest sits nervously on the couch, shifting under your gaze. Your stomach growls in anticipation, as if it could read your thoughts. 

You had lured them into your home under the pretense of dinner. You suspected that they wanted more, and they would get more. But probably not the ‘more’ that they wanted. 

This prey was someone who you didn’t get along with (you didn’t get along with them. They seemed very… attached to you). But for the sake of other people, you need to get over it. And you had your methods. Tonight you were going to give them a good scare. They'd back off after learning what you are.

You had no intention of making this permanent, so to speak. You didn’t like digesting prey anyway. You preferred to trap them in your belly for a little while, feel them struggle for their life, and then let them out. All’s well. 

“Are you hungry?” Your soon-to-be-prey jokes. They heard your stomach too.

“No,” you say, with a grin. And it’s true; you don’t do this out of hunger.

They have a nervous laugh, glancing up at you. "You sure?"

They also notice the look in your eyes, how you’re inching closer, and how your stomach is still growling. Not adept at subtlety. Do they know what’s about to happen? It doesn’t matter-

"Promise." You stretch your mouth, testing. Feeling the familiar sensation as your jaw loosens, preparing for what comes next. 

The whole process is smooth—you’ve done this a lot. Your guest doesn’t put up much resistance, either or you’ve gotten too good at this. You swallow them down, bit by bit, enjoying the slight struggle. You welcome the familiar feeling of satisfaction that surges through you as your belly starts to swell, expanding with their form. When you finally gulp down the last of them, you pat your now round, firm gut. Your skin stretches tight, and you feel every slight movement from inside.

"There we go," you sigh, running your hand over your belly. Your prey squirm and push against the confines of your body. They’re in there, safe—not that they know it.

You settle back into your chair, resting a hand on your full belly, letting out a small, satisfied burp. A part of you feels giddy about it all. You showed them you could do it, that they were nothing but prey if you wanted them to be. But now… now you have to let them back out. You give your stomach a firm rub, feeling it churn beneath your fingers.

"See? Not so bad," you mutter, as your prey seems to realise the environment isn’t so hostile - Their predator has the stomach on a tight leash. There are no acids out and about right now.

Although you can feel your stomach’s eagerness. It wants to digest. Very badly. You feel it sizing up the prey, squeezing it gently, savouring it. You don’t want to tease it for much longer. 

"… guess I’ll let you out now." You say this out loud, but you sit for a moment longer. Basking in the post-meal afterglow. Observing your stomach as it cradles the prey, gentle because it is obedient. Like a dog balancing a treat on its nose. You smile, and give it a good pat. Enough fun for one night- 

Except, as you sit there, the weight of your belly presses down on you. Warmth pooling through you from the meal, your eyelids start to droop. It wasn’t meant to feel this cozy. The way your gut rests on your lap, heavy and comforting, it tugs at your fatigue.

You yawn. Your brain briefly registers that this is a mistake, but your body pulls you toward sleep like the tide. Inevitable, nothing can be done to stop what is about to happen. This outcome may have been sealed the moment you came up with the idea. You lean back, letting your hands come to rest on your stomach, and before you know it, you’re out.

unbeknownst to the unconscious you, your stomach continues to ungulate as the prey squirms. They become increasingly concerned about your unresponsiveness. As your heart rate and breathing slows, the noises from your belly grow louder, and the squirming intensifies. You don’t have as much control over your stomach while you’re asleep.

---

When you wake up, it’s dark. The house is silent, except for soft gurgling noises coming from your midsection. You blink, groggy, the weight of your belly immediately plain to you.

Reflexively, you let out a thick, rumbling belch. That didn’t sound… good. You get the sense that you may have fucked up.

You swallow hard, a slight twinge of dread settling inside your chest as you rub your eyes and look down. 

Your stomach has changed. No longer tight and firm with clear contours of your prey’s figure. It’s soft and heavy, resting against your lap like a large, overstuffed pillow. You blink, pressing a hand to it. It doesn’t push back. There’s no movement. Only softness, warmth, and the unmistakable sound of digestion; deep, slow, and languid, resonating from within.

"God damn it…" you mutter through gritted teeth, pressing both hands to your rounded stomach. You shake it, hoping for a sign, a twitch—anything. But your stomach is eerily calm. Content.

They’re gone.

“Fuck,” you hiss to yourself. You’re a predator; this is what your body does. You know you’re playing with fire when you put your preferred prey inside your predatory stomach.

But you should have control - if only you hadn’t fallen asleep, this wouldn’t have happened. But now… your guest has processed inside of you, and you’re left with the aftermath: a swollen, satisfied gut and a persistent weight of guilt. Condemning the prey to such a fate. And some disappointment in yourself too.

You groan, pushing yourself up to your feet. The weight of your stomach pulls you forward, making each step a little more laboured than usual. This is why you don’t like to let your stomach go all the way. And you don’t like knowing that it got the better of you.

You hate this—feeling heavy, burdened, unable to hide what’s happened. You dread the questions and comments that will be coming your way in the following days.

Padding into the kitchen, you put the kettle on. Tea, to clear your head, and help settle your rebellious stomach. It churns, hard at work, the digestion well underway, but you feel heavy, slow. You grumble under your breath, hands trailing over your large gut with annoyance.

"This wasn’t supposed to happen," you mutter. "I wasn’t hungry."

The kettle whistles, and you pour the hot water into a mug, steeping the tea as you stand there, absently rubbing the swell of your belly. You take a deep breath, calming your nerves, but the weight of what you’ve done (and what you now carry) lingers.

"Great," you mutter, sarcastic, taking a sip of the tea. "Now what?

You can’t exactly reverse what happened. Your body’s already claimed the meal, leaving you with the consequences. The mass in your belly hangs there, undeniable evidence of your mistake. You scowl, irritated that your stomach exploited your nap.

"Not like I can explain this to anyone," you grumble, leaning back against the counter. You take a curious, calculated glance at your jutted out stomach, wondering how you can make this bulge look less suspicious. 

This could land you in serious trouble. You weren’t supposed to digest them—only spook them a little. But this was too far, and you’ll be dragging around this heavy belly for the next few days. It will be comically obvious; You invited this person over for ‘dinner’. You ate them - you digested them. Everyone’s going to think you did it on purpose. That you were so petty that instead of being an adult and getting along, you ate them. Classic move. 

Next time you show your face, you'll be asked if you’ve seen the prey, because didn’t you invite them over? No-one’s seen them since. Concerning, don't you think? - They’ll see your gut, and know exactly what happened. You won’t be able to argue it was an accident. You grimace in embarrassment at the thought. 

“I hope you’re happy, you bastard,” you say, looking down at your stomach. It offers a noisy grumble, perhaps in reply. You feel a flare of affection towards it, which you are quick to squash. You’re still annoyed.

You can get ahead of this. Send a few texts, apologise. Beg them to understand it was an accident - you fell asleep - but you take full responsibility for your actions. It won’t be a perfect fix, but you can do damage control.

There is a lingering smidge of relief in knowing that you won’t have to deal with your prey's antics anymore. They were deep in your gut now, stored away, gone forever. That was a nice thought. But this wasn’t the way to deal with your problems. You cannot let it happen again.

[7ndipity]

False Pretenses

fwb!Jungkook x Reader

Summary: Just how fair does the ‘benefits’ aspect between Friends with Benefits actually extend? Based on this meme.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: crack to fluff, suggestive moments and ending, swearing, Jk has side by side washer/dryer units cause it’s funnier, reader’s referred to as ‘Ma’am’, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! Sorry it took me soo long to get to, I hope you’ll still like it tho! (I’ll also be posting a couple more pieces with this pairing in the next couple weeks, so keep your eyes peeled if you liked this)

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

It was the type of text you had gotten more than used to receiving from him over the past few months, smirking down at your phone as you waited for the elevator in his building.

“Need you so bad rn. Come over?❤”

The heart was a new addition, he must be feeling particularly needy today, you thought to yourself as the elevator doors finally opened.

Since the two of you had established this new part of your friendship, it was rare for you to go more than four or five days without receiving some variation of the same short message from him.

You were still slightly surprised by his text, seeing as you had only been over the night before, but you weren’t complaining by any means. Though you may have enjoyed pretending that Jungkook was the needier one in your arrangement, if you were completely honest, you were just as affected by him, finding yourself missing him on the nights you didn’t spend together.

When he opened the door, you noticed he looked a little more disheveled than usual, his hair sticking up all over the place, as if he’d been running his hands through it, a habit you knew he did when he was stressed.

“You got here fast.” He noted, letting you into the apartment.

“Well, your text made it sound kinda urgent, didn’t want to leave you waiting too long.” You said, wandering through into the living room, slowing to a stop as you caught sight of the chaotic state of the space, cleaning supplies and laundry scattered around, furniture moved all out of place.

“What happened in here?” You asked, turning back to Jungkook, who was now avoiding your eyes. “Koo?”

“I lied, I didn’t want sex.” He said guiltily, looking up at you. “I need you to help me clean.”

“I-, what?” You blinked at him, unsure if you heard him correctly.

He slumped back against the counter, looking stressed as he ran his hand through his hair again. ”My parents decided to surprise me by announcing they’re coming to visit tomorrow, but I’ve done nothing but sleep since I got home from tour last week, so the house is a fucking mess and everything’s a disaster and I need help, please.” He pleaded, staring at you.

You immediately began pulling your coat back on, turning back towards the door. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Y/n, please!” He quickly followed after you, catching your sleeve. “I’ll do anything you want! I’ll buy you dinner, I’ll rub your back, I’ll even let you pick what we watch for a month!”

You paused, turning to look back at him with a raised brow. “Even if I want to re-watch ‘Our Beloved Summer’ for a third time?”

He bit lip, trying to fight back a pained grimace before nodding slowly. “Whatever you want.”

You stared at him for a long moment.

“Fine.” You said reluctantly, caving as you saw the genuine desperation in his eyes. You could never say no to him.

“Thank you!” He sang, catching you in a tight hug and spinning you around in a circle. “I promise I’ll make it up to you!”

“Yeah, whatever,” You grumbled as he set you back on your feet. “Where do we start?”

“Laundry room?” He offered. “It’s mostly done, I just need to vacuum behind the machines.”

Do you really think your mom’s gonna look back there?” You raised a brow, following him down the hall.

“She’s very thorough.” He said seriously.

“Fair enough.” You shrugged. “I don’t quite see why I’m necessary for this part though?”

“I was afraid if I tried to clean back there by myself, I’d slip and get stuck or die.”

“So you want me to slip and die behind your washer instead?” You shot him an accusatory look.

“No! I’ll hold onto you and keep you safe,” He smiled reassuringly. “You know, like the buddy system.”

“I thought the buddy system was for camping so you didn’t get lost or eaten by bears?”

“It’s a multi-purpose system!” He said, his earlier agitation starting to flare up again at your teasing. “Are you gonna help me or not?”

“Yeah, I’ll do it, pass me the vacuum.” You relented, boosting yourself up on top of the dryer.

He held onto your hips to keep you balanced as you cleaned, his mind beginning to wander as he stared at your ass, his fingers starting to slowly knead your flesh absent-mindedly.

“Koo.” You warned, shooting him a quick look.

“Right, sorry.” He snapped back to attention, ceasing his movements and focusing back on the task at hand.

You finished up quickly, passing the vacuum attachment back to him and letting him help you down.

“Thank you.” He said.

“You’re welcome.” You answered, looking around expectantly. “What’s next?”

The apartment wasn’t nearly as bad of a mess as he claimed it to be, but it still took both of you several hours of work to get everything back in order, finishing off with laundry and changing all the bedding.

“Why are these sticky?!” You asked, mildly horrified as you helped him strip the sheets off his bed.

“Relax, it’s just caramel sauce.” He said.

You looked up at him confused. “We didn’t use-?”

“No no, that was just me,” He explained quickly. “I had ice cream last night.”

“Without me?!” You said, clutching your chest in feign hurt, making him roll his eyes as he let out a huff of laughter.

“I’ll add that to the list of things I need to make up for, okay?” He said.

“Eh, it’s better than where my mind went.” You said, only half joking as you grabbed the fresh sheets from him and turned back to the bed. “Almost thought you were fucking around behind my back for a second there.”

Facing away from him, you missed the way his expression suddenly turned serious as he looked at you. “I would never.”

It was strange, despite the supposedly ‘casual’ nature of your arrangement, you both found yourselves making little comments like that, words and exchanges that sounded a lot more like things said between a committed couple, rather than just two friends helping each other out till you found something more serious.

“Alright, I think that’s everything.” You said, snapping him out of his thoughts. You had finished making up the bed, even turning down the covers for him.

“Thank you, y/n.” He said gratefully. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Probably called Hobi.” You smirked, making him snort.

“Now, you promised me food, and if you lie to me twice in the same day, I’m dumping your ass.” You said, earning another laugh from him.

“Alright, whatever you want, just like I said.” He said, leaning down to give you a quick kiss.

“Although, if you wanted, I could make up for my false pretenses from earlier in a different way?” He offered, eyes darkening slightly as his hands drifted over your hips

You lightly shoved his hands away. “Not a chance, Loverboy, I’m way too tired now. You’ll have to try and ‘make it up to me’ some other time.”

“How about tomorrow?” He said, eyes twinkling mischievously, looping his arms around your waist instead to keep you close.

“I thought your parents were coming over tomorrow?” You reminded, raising a brow at him.

“You could come over after.” He suggested. “Hell, you could even come to dinner with us, my parents like getting to meet my friends.”

“Friends?” You looked up at him skeptically.

“Yeah, what?” He laughed, squeezing you lightly.

“Do you let your other friends suck your di-?”

“They don’t need to know the details of our relationship!” He said quickly, his face flushing slightly, making you snicker. “You’re still my friend, one of my best friends actually.” He added, in a soft tone.

The way he said it made your heart twist in a weird way, though you didn’t quite understand why.

“So?” He asked, staring down at you hopefully. “Will you come?”

You chewed your lip, considering. It felt like a really big commitment to meet his family, regardless of what your relationship was, but you tell it would mean a lot to him if you said yes.

“I’ll think about it.” You said finally.

He beamed.

“Thank you!” He said, leaning in to kiss you again, his lips lingering longer this time, tracing over yours lightly, making you shiver.

You pressed closer to him, hooking your arms around his neck as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss, letting your tongue delve into his mouth as his hands grip on your waist tightened.

When you pulled back for air, his pupils were blown wide, eyes almost black as he stared down at you, breathing heavily.

“Take your shirt off.” You ordered, your breaths equally unsteady.

“But I thought you said-?”

“I changed my mind.” You cut him off, tugging at the fabric impatiently. “Shirt off, now.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn

[iwashieonhiatus]

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚑!|𝙱𝙻𝙻𝙺

📌 itoshi sae, itoshi rin, barou shoei, mikage reo, chigiri hyoma, aryu jyubei, karasu tabito, bachira meguru, ryusei shidou

･ﾟﾟ･｡ warnings- gn!reader, established relationship, 18+ characters, pro players(20+), fluffy. Synopsis: Things they do as your bf.

☆ BACHIRA- Matching clothes!! He thinks it’s cute this thing of couples wearing matching clothes, signaling that they’re each other’s and he’s always wanted to do that. He bought the most extravagant, horrifying shiny outfit for you to wear and the worst thing is that it’s wearing on the street, and you don’t want to make him sad.... Oh, he also bought you two bee pajamas!

☆BAROU- He likes to keep his things clean and organized. He’s organized and clean so everything has to be in order for him to be at peace, but you’re kind of disastrous and forgetful, but he doesn’t get so angry - pure pretense on his face of bravo. He understands that this is your way, and that’s why he fell in love with you, and also, he knows that there are days you don’t feel like being organized or can’t and so he does it for you.

☆ TABITO- Gossip!! He grew up surrounded by women gossiping here and there, and he doesn’t deny that he loves gossip. “A prestigious man is a gossiper, yes!” Don’t think about leaving him without the daily gossip or continuation of gossip. “Who’s pregnant?!” or “Did you get the rest of the gossip? No? But I have one for you!”

☆ RYUSEI- He’s kind of crazy, so when you came up with the idea of him getting a tattoo with your name, he accepted it without a second thought! And now he has your name tattooed on his left chest, right next to his heart. And yes, he loved the idea because unlike what most think; he is a one-person man, if he dates it is to marry.

☆ CHIGIRI/ ARYU- Beauty care!! He doesn’t want to know if you don’t have money for that expensive treatment. He’s your boyfriend and has a black card... Just accept the night of care while he finishes your hair and the face mask takes effect. If he takes care of himself, so will you!

☆RIN- Movie night!! You both watch movies at night almost every Friday and then evaluate the movie, serious conversations as if you were cinephiles. The joint account on Letterboxd is the key point, a mix of horror movies with the genre you like. (Teammates follow this account just to poke fun at him)

☆ REO/SAE- His car is a place he likes to have absolute control over, but every time someone hitchhikes with him, he always finds your belongings like makeup, high heels, perfume, charger, keys and he just puts it all away, with a smile on his face or “this is where they left it.” And the main thing of all, the passenger seat, which is your throne, has the position that you love and if someone tries to change he does not let them, he can tell the person to get out of the car.

© iwashie 2023, please do not translate, modify or republish my works

[mychlapci]

Genuinely I think tfp Ratchet has the biggest mommy kink in existence, and I also think he refuses to admit it to himself or anyone else. He wants his team to need him. Needs them to need him, even. It makes him feel useful, and better than that it makes him feel warm and good.

If he wasn’t lactating, he’d probably jump at the chance to start. It’d probably start as a method of helping a severely injured teammate get their energon, but Ratchet’d quickly discover how good it makes him feel. Then he’d be practically tugging them into his lap to suck on his sensitive titties any time someone showed even the first sign of hunger. He’d get hot behind his panels and deny it, focusing instead on helping his patient, his team, his needy baby—but he’d still be dripping. Soon he’d be offering to nurse them, hungry or not, any time the team was upset. Let mommy comfort the poor things. Stroking their helms at first, then eventually their panels as they lay limp in mommy’s lap to nurse until a full tank and an overload improve their mood. Waddling away with a stick mess behind their panel or trying not to overload again as Ratchet licks his hand clean.

Synth-En Ratchet would be a little meaner, I think. He wouldn’t give them the choice of when or where to nurse. If he thinks they need it, they’re getting it! He’d physically hold them in his lap until /he/ thinks they’re full, even if their tanks overflow and they end up wetting themselves on his lap. Dribbling, helpless and humiliated as their tanks filled with even more energon to embarrass themselves with. And of course mommy would tease them for being so messy and needy. He’d make them thank him for the privilege of sucking his tits and cleaning them up, just as public as the feeding itself, if only so he could watch them squirm.

A post synth-en Ratchet would be mortified and extra soft and uncharacteristically sweet for a time, but secretly horny as hell. Maybe getting to fuck mommy’s pussy while they nurse his warm, soft boobies would be enough of an apology?

don't… don't do this to me. my penis can only ever get so hard.… hgrhgrh Ratchet keeping team prime on their feet by nursing each and every one of them with his titty milk is the perfect fantasy… He'd be such a good mommy, offering his leaking nozzles to his poor hungry babies teammates whenever they need it, letting them drink from him until they’re grinding against his fat thighs... he just hopes they can’t feel him getting soaking wet as well. He'll gladly drag anyone into his lap and feed 'em, of course he’ll act like it’s a chore or a bother, but he’s secretly loving it. Mommy milk is healthy after all, and the act of nursing has been scientifically proven to have a calming effect. He enjoys being a source of fuel and a source of comfort. It's a dull, fuzzy kind of pleasure, the kind that makes him feel warm and happy when he has someone lapping at his milk.

… I am so into, what could it be called? forced mommy-kink? synth-en Ratchet insisting that he decides when and where and who refuels from him, not taking no for an answer. He doesn’t care if they’ve just downed a cube of energon, a little bit of that synth-en filtered through mommy’s titties is good for them. Maybe his mask slips and he ends up making them call him mommy. He’ll hold them with his newfound strength and they’ll have no choice but to suckle on his titties until he decides they’ve had enough. If his baby wets into his lap, he’ll clean them up, and make ‘em thank him for it. This way, all of team prime gets a humiliation kink. 

Afterwards he apologizes by letting everyone fuck mommy’s pussy, and he’ll clench around each and every spike very hard to let them know he’s sorry <3 At least the pretense is gone now and he can enjoy being called mommy freely...

Of course, team Prime gets a couple additions to it, right? I wonder how that would go down. No matter what they say, or how embarrassed they feel, they gotta get on mommy’s milk, stat. It’s for their own good.

[throneofsapphics]

Hey! I would loovee a part two of ‘Theirs’, maybe where reader pulls away from nessian because she doesn’t trust them (especially intimately) after what happened

And they’re just in agony but realise if they act the way they did before, they might lose her forever

I’m a sucker for angst with a happy ending😅 (if you want)

theirs part two 

Nessian x f!Reader

(part one)

Summary: Everything came crashing out, the flood gates opened. “Is there a way to fix this? I felt violated, hurt, and neither of you even bothered to ask.”

Warnings: some angst, discussions of SA/dubcon, not proofread

A/N: thank you for requesting it! sorry it took so long, this is a bit shorter and kinda went off script

The next morning, both of them acted as if nothing was wrong. Like it was another ordinary day with the events of the previous night washed clean. You couldn’t wash that fear out of your memory. Sure there was arousal present, but the entire night had not sit right with you. Still, you kept a smile on your face and kept up the pretense. Mainly because you didn’t know what else you could dol. You didn’t find your own release that night either. Maybe they didn’t know, or were trying to punish you. Either way, it didn’t matter right now. 

Cassian leaned in for a kiss as he left, he was already running late, but you turned your head, letting him leve one on your cheek. He frowned at you but didn’t time to question it as he took off. You let out a slow breath as he flew away. He hadn’t the time to question it and you planned it that way. Nesta wasn’t present either, and you know she would’ve had questions. She’d always been particularly observant. 

You tried to put up a good front, but after a week Nesta finally brought it up. 

“What’s wrong?” It was just the two of you, in the library. 

“Nothing,” you said shortly, returning your focus to your book. She snatched it from your hands, marking your page and setting it aside. 

“Talk to me.” Her words were a plea, almost begging. “You’ve barely kissed or touched either of us all week, haven’t spoken much - you’re turning into a ghost.” 

You didn’t know how to answer her, what kind of words would actually explain it. Nesta waited not-so-patiently, but she could see you were thinking and held her tongue. “That night, after Rita’s,” you spoke quietly. “Put yourself in my shoes.” 

Anything else, you might’ve burst into tears and left her to her thoughts, searching for a place you could find some peace and solace. 

You knew Nesta would speak to Cassian about it, and they’d likely try to find you after dinner - you’d taken to eating somewhere else, feigning work to do. 

Sure enough, they showed up and you ended up in one of the cozier sitting areas. 

“I thought you enjoyed it,” Nesta started. 

“My body did …” you took a few deep breaths, calming yourself. “But I didn’t feel safe.” 

“Why didn’t you say something?” Cassian countered. 

“You didn’t give me a chance,” you snapped at him. 

Nesta’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry.” Out of all things, you never expected Nesta to apologize to you. Actually, you’re not certain you’ve heard those words come out of her mouth before. “How do we fix this?” 

Everything came crashing out, the flood gates opened. “Is there a way to fix this? I felt violated, hurt, and neither of you even bothered to ask.” Your breathing grew heavy, fists clenched, a tightness in your chest.” 

“A safeword.” Nesta blurted out. 

“It’s not just about sex,” you snarled, “I was having fun. FInally introducing you to my friends, and you couldn’t wait til the Gods-damned night was over before dragging me out.” 

You left the room, any longer and you might’ve said something you would truly regret. 

It took months for them to earn your trust back. So many discussions on boundaries, and you could tel they were really trying. They asked to meet your friends again, in a different setting, and you relented. If there was any jealousy, they kept it firmly under wraps. You loved them, with all of your heart, and managed to trust again, to let them back in. 

[mintcaramelhazel]

I bet the dagger squad can’t play never have I ever w Mav because they did it one time and they had to rush Mav to A&E for alcohol poisoning. It is not that Maverick has done the most unhitched things and knowing that traumatices them. That’s just a tiny reason. It is getting scold by the Commander of the Pacific Fleet because the idiot of his husband can’t lie/won’t lie for honourable reasons.

Revelations that surfaced that night but nobody could remember later on bc Iceman scared them so much they blocked any memories of said night:

It is not clear that Natasha has killed a man but they’re pretty sure that Bradley and/or Callie helped her to hide the body

Bob might had an affair with a famous musician but he is a gentleman and he will carry the identity of that person to the grave

Not only was Mav pulling Bradley’s papers off the academy what risked his career in the Navy. Bradley used to be a street racer and he almost got caught. Twice

Jake might had an affair with one of their instructors of Top Gun (Not new information to Javy. Also, that when he discovered that Jake was queer)

Bradley and Jake had obviously been involved with a member of their same squad (when they used to be in the same squad 👀) (Natasha and Javy drink anyways bc flashbacks)

Reuben has discovered information about a brass member and has use it as a free from jail card to save a friend

Mickey got once in trouble with a commander with admiral pretensions. He’s still in the Navy (w clean record) bc a friend blackmailed that commander

Javy crashed one weeding on accident and become friends with the couple after kicking out one problematics relatives (they text and sometimes he gets care packages from them)

Billy got viral once in the internet (although the video is really hard to find now bc it has music/material from Disney and it’s blocked for copyright infringement)

Neil was bicycling when the bike tore apart and had to be grounded for almost two months to give him time to recover

Logan was mistaken once for an actor during holidays and he tried his best to be nice to his fans. (It’s one of the top interactions the fandom of the actor quote to say ‘their baby boy is the best’)

Brigham used to box and won once a competition. He bought his godson a car and his mother kinda hated him for it

[parasiticstars]

To Teach an Old Dog: #1

re re re re re re uploaded bc tumblr keeps fucking it up

TW: BBU/pet whump, casual mentions of dehumanization, institutionalized slavery, and suicide idealization, and me being very pretentious

Kavan’s back hurts. Of the numerous things wrong with his situation, this is what he decided to focus on in an attempt to stave off the impeding sensory overload— and this is the only familiar, non-Pet-fuckery problem he has.

The bit was fastened too tight and digs in the corners of his mouth. He can feel drool starting to crust his beard. He’s disused to the shoddy buzzcut his masters captors gave him in an attempt to make him presentable before auction; he'll certainly never take the feeling of hair on his ears for granted again. The ear tag is pulling on already mutilated earlobes, adding to a budding headache just behind his eyes. The concrete floors look and feel like they haven’t been cleaned ever. The auctioneer’s voice is solidly the fourth most irritating sound he’s ever heard in his life.

Alas, nothing Kavan attempts to focus on staves off the visceral, skin-crawling feeling of too much. No matter how many times the man gets shuttled in and out of auctions and captors like a head of livestock, he’ll never truly get used to the non-personhood, the sheer objectification of it all. Nor will he get used to an audience leering and inspecting him and the other Pets people around him like the products they’re advertised and sold as.

Nobody seems to be interested in him, thank god. Kavan’s getting too old for most people’s tastes— even as a labor Pet, being above thirty is automatically considered a liability, as if he’d crumple into dust the second he set foot onto a construction site or a plantation or wherever the hell else. Has he felt close to it? Definitely. But that didn’t mean he would; even though some places, water and breaks weren’t a given.

(Why would they be? Employers and contractors who use Pets rather than workers don’t need to abide by silly things such as OSHA and basic human decency.)

But regardless.

With the slowly increasing amount of times he’s talked about like his expiry date has run out, Kavan wonders when he’s going to just be taken out behind the shed.

He wonders if he’ll do it himself one of these days.

A prod to the small of his back forces him to straighten, making him nearly drop his sign in the process. His attention snaps back to the crowd, all crammed together in this dingy-ass building in those dingy-ass folding chairs betting on dingy-ass people.

Long had Kavan lost the naïvety that Pet owners were this special type of evil, so impossibly cruel and uncaring that they simply couldn’t be human. Regardless, the fact that everyone here is so unassuming still screws with him. He could hypothetically see any one of them, say, at a Starbucks bitching at the barista about their overpriced order, or shopping at Trader Joe’s, or working in their cubicle, or at a PTA meeting. That in particular jars him.

Nobody around them would know that said person was willingly participating in legalized slavery, lacking even the flimsy pretense of “rescuing” their aunt’s-grandma’s-brother’s-husband’s-neighbor’s-girlfriend’s-niece’s Pet or whatever else they’d want to virtue signal on their Facebook wall or status or whatever else.

(Are Facebook statuses still a thing? God, Kavan’s been out of the loop too long. He doesn’t even know how long.)

One woman in particular has set sights on him. Judging by the fine cut yet plain color of her coat, the disgusted-holier-than-thou glances she’d occasionally give whoever she was seated near whenever they did anything particular crude, the brand name Ceilos, she’s probably fuck-off rich trying not to look fuck-off rich. What would someone like her want at a low scale labor pet auction like this? Why is she eyeing him in particular? Why are her irises barely darker than #FFFFF?

Catastrophizing is, it seems, a very time consuming activity. It muffles the rest of the auction, the auctioneer’s droning that would soon settle the man’s fate, the assistant taking away the sign Kavan was holding and tugging at the rope attached to his collar.

He stumbles as he’s led off the platform and into the pen for inspection. Through the buzzing of his ears, the sound of heels clicking follows.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unsolicited 8

Warnings: bad self-thought/talk, bullying, insults, low self-esteem, money problems, oral/noncon, coercion, cum, some untagged sexual and dark elements.

Wouldn’t mind some feedback! Lloyd was driving me nuts so I had to do it. Thank you in advance 💜

Masterlist

You scoff as you look around. The car ride was long enough to make you think, to make you wonder. The amount of time and effort the jackass put into tormenting you is extra, almost desperate. You put that thought away.

The place is a confirmation of his wealth, a reflection of his condescension. Hung from the wall is the kind of art that holds meaning only to those deluded in their own pretension and the furniture is a motley of the overprice and impractical. Too much money and not enough sense, but you knew that about Lloyd.

"Really fucking impressive, huh? Not a single Ikea screw in this place," he mocks.

You sidle away as he unzips his jacket and you look down at your boots dripping onto the mat.

"You're welcome to track that all inside, you're the one cleaning it up," he snorts as he shrugs out of his coat, holding it out to you expectantly.

You squint at him and the closet on his other side. You hide your chagrin and take it from him, edging past to open the closet and hang the coat inside with a row of similar garments, labels listing designer names proudly. He taps your ass and you recoil as he chuckles.

"Boots," he says.

You frown and look down at your feet. You back up and bend to untie the worn laces.

"Mine," he kicks a toe out.

You give a nod and reach for his foot as he stands waiting. He drags his toe back and tuts, "ah, what do you say?"

You grit your teeth and glance at the door. You'd almost rather face your husband and that scourging humiliation instead. Your chest plucks and defeats that thought. No, no, that hurts more.

"Yes, daddy," you eke out.

He purrs and slides his foot over the mat towards you. You grasp his leather boot as he lifts his foot and you wiggle it off, shaking away the errant flakes of the new snowfall. You take it to the closet and place it on the rack nestled beneath the coats. 

You go back for the second, back straining as you stay bent. He reaches over your, his crotch hitting your head so you flinch as he claps a hand on your ass. You squeak and tug at his foot. He snickers and releases you, the shadow of his grope tingling still.

“I like this angle,” he taunts.

You put his other shoe away and stand, groaning as your hips ring. You really need to get in better shape. It might be too late for that. You rub your lower back before recalling yourself, where you are, what hell you’ve signed up for. You take off your coat and hook a hanger inside.

“Try not to put it too close to mine. They’re expensive.”

You suck in your cheeks and squat as you grip the door frame and roughly unlash your shoelaces. You slip out of the stained boots and push them in between the suede and leather collection. You stand, another twinge in your hip bones.

“Good start, baby,” he grabs your arm and draws you back, “let’s start… easy. I’m easy. Really. I’m sure you can handle me.”

His hand trails down your arm and he guides you to cup his crotch. He’s hard, the fabric taut across his bulge. You shudder as you look him in the face and curl your lip. He grabs your chin as he keeps his hand on your wrist.

“No teeth,” he warns, “it’s really not that hard. A hole is a hole.”

You sneer as he holds you there, a tableau of repulsion against his leer. You squeeze him hard and he winces. He lets go of your jaw and gives a sharp tap to your cheek. 

“Be nice. I match your energy, baby.”

You lighten your touch and he retracts his hand from your face. He looks down at himself as he takes a step back and you follow his gaze. You stare at your hand and resign yourself with a slow exhale. You drag your fingertips to his belt and his twitches, a groan as he brushes a finger across his mustache and bites the tip.

“My balls are fucking heavy.”

You cringe at his lewd comment as you unbuckle his belt, snakeskin, tacky as fuck. Like the rest of him. You loosen the buckle and pull open his fly. You feel him vibrating with the tension. You swallow your disgust, just do it. With any luck, he won’t last long. Not with the way he’s squirming like a pubescent brat.

You hook your thumbs in his briefs and guide the elastic down, pulling it out around his erection. His tip weeps already, glistening grossly as you tug his underwear down with his pants, just to his thighs. He throbs and twitches, placing his hands proudly on his hips as he wiggles his hips.

“I’m bigger, right? I know the chump isn’t working with much–”

“Shut up,” you grip him, pumping him so he chokes. He gasps and grips your wrist again.

“Hey, don’t fucking break it.”

You roll your eyes, stroking him slower as you lower yourself to your knees, repressing another achy moan. Your back is racked, not just from work but the days of stress knotted in your muscles. You keep your hand moving as his fingers curl around his hips and he hums. He is bigger than Colin but you won’t give him that satisfaction. You can hardly stomach what you're doing.

“Mouth,” he snaps his fingers, keeping one hand around his hip.

You press your lips together tightly and stare at his pinkened tip, swollen with anticipation. Your insides roll with disgust as you bring yourself closer and press his pulsing head to your mouth. Slowly, you open around him, tasting the salty tinge of precum as you take him in. 

He groans and quickly spreads his hand across the back of your head, urging you further. You squeeze him in your hand as your lips meet your fingers. Your touch slips down as he pushes you down, forcing deeper until you gag. You slap his thigh as he doesn’t let up.

“Come on baby,” he reaches down and rubs your neck, coaxing you as he dips down your throat, “that’s it.”

You murmur around him, your venom smothered by his intrusion. He rocks his hips, easing back and sliding back down, another painful gag around him.

“Play with my balls, baby,” he rasps.

You squeeze your eyes shut as he leads your rhythm along his length. Your hand grazes across his slack pants and you stifle a retch as you cup his sack, fondling it as he babbles. His thumb caresses your neck as he moves his hips, fucking your face as your lashes wet and spit pastes around your lips.

“Oh, fuck, taking it like a champ,” he grips your head between his hands, on on your skull, the other cupping your chin, “fuck yeah, oh shit.”

The squelch of him in your throat has your stomach roiling. You shake in disgust as you fight not to bite down. He rams in deeper, hitting the back of your throat harshly with each thrust. You gurgle and choke, your saliva spilling out sloppily.

“Oh yeah,” he slides out to his tip and strokes himself, tracing your lips as he smears your spit around, “fuck…” He continues to pump his dick as he cradles your chin, moving to rub his sac against your mouth, “come on, get a taste, bab-”

You hesitate and gulp back another wave of loathing. You force your tongue out and obey, lapping at the rough skin so he groans. He tilts his hips, rubbing himself on your tongue as his hand speeds up. He slips around to once more grasp your head as he puffs with mounting pleasure.

“Ah, yeah, baby, call me daddy,” he huffs. “Now, do it–”

“Daddy,” you murmur as he smothers you.

He grunts and his nails dig into your scalp as he holds your close. You feel the warm strings spill along your head line and down your forehead, over your lashes as his cum spills out hotly over you. He works himself through his climax, trembling as it drips down to his base and over your lip.

He stills and twitches, pulling away as his cum cools to stickiness across your face. He cups his balls as he winces and you lower your head, hiding your shame as you reach to wipe your mouth.

“That’s right, baby, you got a mess to clean up.”

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Hi, how do you feel about yandere ot8 skz manipulating their love into staying with them? Like which ones do you see using mental/emotional manipulation tactics to keep control vs who is going full blown restraints and fear even manhandling to absolutely just  decimate their SO’s mental state and keep them close?

TW! yandere behavior ; physical violence ; mental and emotional manipulation ; narcissism ;

I feel like the members that would most use mental/emotional manipulation would be Bangchan, Changbin, Hyunjin, and Seungmin. They would be the ones to use guilt trips and heavily victimize themselves. They are extremely narcissistic to a sickening extent. They’ll make you feel like you’re going insane, they’ll put words into your mouth and their constant assumptions will always make you feel like you’re doing something wrong even if you’re not. Their main tactic to keep you to themselves would be turning everyone against you (secretly/behind your back) all while making everyone love them at the same time. They’ll try to take you away under the guise of wanting to take you “somewhere better” because they “love you so much.” Arguing is like a game to them, and lying is just another game to see how far they can get with a lie before they get called out, but god forbid you call them out because then it turns into an even bigger argument. Every day is hell, but when you wake up in the morning it’s like a “clean slate” for them and they pretend it never happened and you better act like it never happened as well or else the argument will just get worse.

As far as restraints, fear and man handling, I can definitely see Jisung, Felix, and Jeongin resorting to these tactics. Strangely enough, I feel like these three truly love you and that’s why they act like this. They want you solely for themselves, and they’re terrified of losing you. I don't think that these three would enjoy having to do this, but in their mind they think that it's the only thing they can do to keep you close to them. I see Jeongin and Jisung as more of the types to use restraints, ex. locking you up or tying you to the bed or something along those lines to keep you from leaving. Felix would be the type to use fear and manhandling. He'd use a lot of violence, not specifically against you, but he'd definitely be the type to throw things and just slightly miss, just enough to scare the shit out of you and keep you from walking out the door. The three of them would constantly tell you that you're not good enough for anyone else, or that no one else would be able to handle you or love you the way they do. They would be the types to break you down and make you feel extremely small, and then in a matter of minutes be the same ones to build you back up and make you feel like the most wonderful person in the world. They'll make you feel like shit, they'll be violent and scary, but they'll do it all under the pretense of loving you.

As far as Minho goes, I can see him being a mix of both of these depending on his mood. I see him being very desperate to keep you in his life so he'd do anything... literally anything. If you talk back a lot, he'd probably have to use the fear/violence tactic to keep you in line. If you're more of the quiet type that thinks a little bit too much for his liking or if you start to figure him out, he'd definitely be the emotional/mental manipulative type. Either way, with him you'll feel like your world is constantly upside down and that you're losing your mind. I think he has the tendency to be the most toxic though because he knows how to use all of these techniques to keep you right where he wants you. He's a master manipulator and that's the scariest part. He can do anything he wants and still get away with it. It's impossible to leave him once you get with him.