#because i'm sure he looks up to him a lot
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obeymeluv · 2 days ago
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Being Clever with the Fae (Malleus x Reader, Lilia x Reader, Sebek x Reader)
Pre-established relationship implied. You tell the Diasomnia boys that your world planned for ways to outsmart faes. You pull your trick but you're not sure who won.
Warning: Pepaw Bat's gets a little spicy so be careful.
I'm taking liberties with Sebek's part because he's a neutral for me and I don't know that much about him.
You and Malleus had talked about fae folklore more than once. He was delighted to know fae had something of a presence in your world but was wildly horrified at the misinformation. Out of everything you told him, only a handful were correct:
Don't give your name unless you trust that fae because names have power
Iron will hurt some fae but not all. Iron is more harmful to nocturnal fae than day fae.
Being rude to fae may be the end of you altogether
Partaking in fae food means you open yourself up for a wager
Yes, fae like to play tricks. Expect them and be wary.
Stepping into a fairy circle will summon the fairy who made it.
Just about everything else was wrong. That's why he and Lilia were teaching you what not to do if you came upon the various fae in Twisted Wonderland. Thus far you'd only managed to memorize what herbs kept smaller creatures at bay and how to curry the favor of the various faeries that helped out at NRC. Your current assignment from Lilia was filling out a map of different fae territories and classifying them as 'safe' for humans or 'unsafe'. Each territory had a tree they would love to craft from or loathed to be near and you were expected to know that, too.
Strange stuff but apparently it was important.
They liked to break up the bigger chunks of information with smaller, digestible things like etiquette so it felt more manageable. Malleus was currently instructing you on how to part from a fae in a formal setting as to not incur their wrath.
"Again, Child of Man," he's bowed down until eye level with you, one hand holding yours.
"Light shake, eye contact, nod, slide foot back, squeeze the hand, turn." he's parroting your motions until you turn away. He, instead, draws himself to his full height and observes as you pretend to walk away.
"Excellent," he nods. "But ensure you don't slouch while leaving. It will make some feel as if you don't hold them in high regard."
"That's so--" you roll your eyes. He simply lifts his brow as if to question your mild frustration. You puff your cheeks out and he laughs.
"We can be a bit particular." he agrees.
"To a fault." you smirk.
"Oh?" he's intrigued, eyes twinkling.
"Yeah," you smile. "In my world the fae were known for being literal with their word so you always had to keep something clever in reserve."
"Do tell," Malleus' grin goes from practiced and polite to genuine. A hint of fang shows.
"It's kind of specific though. Depends on that old joke about fae wanting to come for the first born."
"That's not really a joke," Malleus crossed his arms. You can't tell if he's offended or not. "We like the younglings. We're always looking to bring more around to the fae ways. In fact, fae make fantastic guardians because--"
He had a lot to say and you felt the beginnings of a lecture creep up. In some way you felt like you were in trouble. To save yourself, you said, "Just pretend. Then I can show you what we do."
Malleus pretended to make a deal with you. It looked a bit intimidating and official with the magic pulsing in the rickety floorboards of Ramshackle. They were groaning. Shadows danced along his face as pieces of his signature thorned briar wove around your joined hands. "In exchange for the repairs around Ramshackle, you will give your firstborn to me."
You pull him in, his green eyes searching curiously for any hint of what's to come. "Sure! How soon do you want to start working on that? Or do you want to wait a little while?"
All at once the floorboards fell quite. The hum of magic died with a rattle that broke the briar into tiny pieces. A few fell at your feet, the others shooting off into various directions.
Oh. Did he not understand? You thought it was clever! Maybe he was too sheltered to--
His laugh is kind of a snort at first but then you hear it honest and lilting. The hand holding yours slides up your arm and snakes around your waist. You're lifted until your hands find purchase on his shoulders and your legs wrap around whatever they reach. Your heart goes from your chest to your throat when his gloved hands slide down to your thighs as he walks you to your sad couch.
"Now is fine," he's careful to hold his weight above you, silky hair spilling around you and tickling your cheeks. His eyes are bright and boyish, a deadly compliment to his kissable lips.
Well, that technically backfired but if this were a real situation you'd make out just fine because he'd chosen to make out with you instead of curse you.
------ ----- ----- ----
Lilia wanted to focus on physical protection as much as written knowledge when it came to handling fae. You still couldn't wrap your head around the idea of him being a general but he had old photos, a weird mask, and a massive magearm to prove it. You'd picked up quite a few self-defense moves and practiced them regularly. He wanted them to be second nature to you. So here you are, in a designated training room within Diasomnia.
"You just want to cuddle me," you teased, in the familiar position of him being behind you with an arm around your neck. One elbow was planted in your shoulder, the other clasping it at the forearm to make a little prison for you. He gave a reprimanding squeeze, ever mindful of the pressure since you were fully human. Lilia gave a huffy laugh, trying to relax his smile into something more stern as he wove his fingers into your hair. You flinched at the tug and slapped his arm lightly.
"Focus," he couldn't deny himself the simple pleasure of whispering into your ear. If you asked him, it was to throw you off balance and distract you. "What could you do now?"
You thought about just leaning back into him, pressing against him, but you knew that wasn't what he meant. Capitalizing on this moment of closeness, the stillness, to huck him over your shoulder and into the floor crossed your mind but then you'd have to give him a back rub later.
Not that you minded that, either.
"We could make a deal," you leaned back to whisper in his ear even though it hurt your neck a little. You could tell by the way his bangs fluttered that he'd jerked in surprise. Was that a little pink on his cheeks? Before you could nip his pointed ear, Lilia leaned you forward and took his elbow off your shoulder, opting to hold you in a bearhug instead.
"Acceptable in this situation," he managed, clearing his throat when his voice cracked a little. "Although this exercise is supposed to be combat related."
"So make the terms. I can't negotiate a deal that doesn't exist." you try to break his hold, shimmying your shoulders and sliding your feet to see if you could slip away. He lifts you off the ground with an ease that doesn't seem possible with his short, lithe body. You hang there against him as he thinks.
"Your life for that of your firstborn."
A bit dark, wasn't it? Kind of rude, really, you thought. But, your train of thought continued to ramble, he did find Silver somewhere so it didn't seem too unusual that he'd want a kid. Either that, or he was messing with you because you told him that whisking away kids was something fae were known for in your world.
"You can't have a firstborn with your clothes on." you joke.
"That's not true because I found Silver with my--" Lilia drops you when he realizes what you've said. You weren't expecting him to drop you and didn't catch yourself, hissing as you land on your knees. Before you can start complaining or poke fun at him for being an old man he's locked the door. You're bowled over as he rushes over to you, pinning you on your back as he peppers kisses along your throat and collarbone.
He's several bites in and you’re halfway undressed when you think you hear a knock at the door. Lilia begrudgingly peels himself off of you, licking blood from the corner of his lips.
"Father? Are we not going to train today?"
"M'fraid not, my boy," Lilia turns his attention back to you, opening your legs to slip between them. "But you'll be getting a new sparring partner in about nine months."
His red eyes are glowing. They're absolutely beguiling.
"Do they come with therapy?” he hears Silver mumble as you look up at him through your lashes.
He pounces on you again. It was a brilliant, filthy tactic. He's not exactly mad about it. You've earned favor with one fae, at least, and he will protect you from the others.
----- ----- --- ---
Sebek is a hard worker. He's a product of his environment; he has Baur's straightforwardness, Lilia's dedicated regimens, and his mother's impressive teeth and jaw strength. Lilia thought the best way for you to learn some of the self-defense tactics was to fight someone your size.
Sort of. Sebek seemed to be the better choice since Silver was too sleepy to be a constant threat. And, in Lilia's mind, you should have an easier time fighting a half-fae versus a full fae.
You never noticed how muscular Sebek was until you were under him. He's got corded arms and you can see the muscles of his shoulders flexing under the Diasomnia shirt he chose for the exercise.
You've never seen him in casual clothes! He actually looks very nice. Not as buff as Jack but sturdy in his own way; his chest is broader than you imagined. A solid man.
More than capable of being Malleus' body guard.
You groan as he knocks the air out of you a little. He's on top of you, pressed into your back. He's got one foot braced against the floor, leaning his weight into you. Your arms are pinned at your side courtesy of the one he's snaked underneath you.
When did he flip you over? Asshole, you scrunch your nose in frustration as your cheeks begin to burn. He's an asshole that means well and won't go easy on you, though. He makes sure you learn. You try to inch out from beneath him but he angles his shoulder down and grabs his own wrist, dragging you back to him.
"You're supposed to do something in this situation!" he grumps, "You know how to break this hold!"
You do, but he's heavy and it probably wouldn't work. And he's had a literal lifetime of training versus your handful of months. You've tangled your legs together and used his half-lean to put him on his back. Your kicking like a tipped-over bug and almost free when you remember that his fae half is crocodilian and you might have triggered his death roll tendency.
Out of the corner of your eye you see Sebek's pupils change, the dark of his eye slitting and boring into you. His throat strains like he's growling but you don't hear anything. It trembles against the back of your neck and you're reminded in that moment of just how much bigger he is than you.
How he folds around you and encompasses you.
He opens his mouth, teeth glinting and sharp. "You've bested me," you admit, swallowing thickly as his teeth hover near your shoulder. "Make your deal."
You somehow turn yourself around in his unrelenting squeeze.
Sebek huffs as if he's insulted and you swear you see his teeth dull. His pupils begin to fill out. He's usually loathe to acknowledge his human side, as he'd much rather be full fae, but it serves him in this instance. "I'm not a true fae. Such a thing wouldn't work on me!"
"You have to pretend! Lilia's teaching me how to deal with the fae! You just won't hurt me as much. Maybe." you dare to flash that teasing grin at him and Sebek nearly tears into his own lip because he doesn't know what to do with that wiggly feeling you give him.
Him? Hurt you? Not on purpose. It would go against the core values his grandfather AND Lilia taught him! Any fae caught abusing their spouse would be drawn and quartered, made a public display of. Any human man who chose to do so was no man at all!
Sebek's face feels almost painfully warm. He can feel the heat spreading from his cheeks to his ears. "In an act of benevolence inspired by the great Prince Malleus, I shall spare your delicate human self in exchange for a child. Is that the cliche rubbish you desire?"
Some of his once slicked-back hair has fallen down on his forehead, between his eyes, as if it's disappointed in you too.
"You think our child would be cliche rubbish? Cliche Rubbish Zigvolt? That does NOT sound good! I'm naming the firstborn, you're just helping make it."
"Wha--but I--that's not!" Sebek doesn't know what to say and he hasn't been trained for this. He's careful not to shove you away but untangles himself like a thrown ragdoll. He rolls over sharply, totally fine with hiding his face in the floor. His green hair is in disarray and his arms are limp, stretched out to either side of him.
You laugh, climbing onto his back and raking your nails down it gently. He makes the noise. You're not sure what it is but you've heard it before. It's deep and somehow soothing. He relaxes underneath you as you continue to scratch his back, throwing in a squeeze to his muscles every now and then.
It's not until you're in what would be the small of his back (if he wasn't build so solid and thick) that he raises his head, folds his arms up, and rests his chin on his hands. "You're safe." he can't bear to turn his head and look at you right now. If he did, you'd see how...how...weak and mushy he looked. Sebek snorts through his nose, arching his back in surprise as your hands slide all the way up until you flop on his back and your arms hang off his shoulders.
"Thank you, o' kind Zigvolt!" you hug his neck. "This delicate human appreciates it!"
"And I...appreciate...you." he mumbled slowly, the words a little foreign to him. More scary than foreign, honestly. That heartwarming shyness evaporated in an instant when he pinned you and began a stern lecture about how you should NOT offer to conceive a child with ANY OTHER FAE and what YOU SHOULD HAVE DONE INSTEAD.
You weren't surprised by this. Sebek lectured Silver all the time and Lilia said he was a very informed pupil. You, too, would be informed as it didn't seem like he was letting you go anytime soon.
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syluss-littlecrow · 2 days ago
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release
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<Caleb x fem!reader>
where both you and Caleb end up doing more than butt heads about his given curfew for you.
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genre/warnings: smut, pwp, mutual pinning, mutual obsession & possession, jealous!Caleb breeding kink, multiple orgasms, a lot of cum..., perverted!MC, friends to lovers?, squirting, unprotected sex, morning sex, pure Caleb brain rot, it gets pretty nasty
a/n: Caleb, Caleb, CALEB XIA YIZHOU 😭😭 the way I've been giggling over Caleb while watching his story and going back to my home screen with Sylus looking at me with his arms crossed.... Anyway, enjoy this Caleb brain rot 🥹🩷 I'll do one with Caleb's military air force uniform when I can 😔🫡
I JUST SAW THE NEW BANNER DROP IM NOT OK IF ANYONES WONDERING.
w/c: 3.5K
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Effortless. That is what Caleb feels like when his affections come to you. It bubbles and boils over when he thinks he's able to put a lid over it, and it overflows instead. It leaves him so defenseless. Yet, he can't seem to stop. It's the only thing that keeps him going in this hell. 
The only thing he feels is the metallic necklace barely weighing on his chest. It almost feels like you're here with him. 
And if you are, he wants to keep you here with him. Forever.
His eyes slowly open. His eyes focus on the hologram clock hovering at the side. 
You're supposed to be back already. 
Caleb contemplated on driving out to find you since he has your location pinging on his phone.
Since when did you have that many friends in Skyhaven? Why doesn't he know about them?
He checks the messages he's sent you, all unread. 
Caleb has to remind himself to stop clenching his jaw and biting his tongue. 
His stare towards the door grows anxious by the minute. Then he strengthens his resolve and marches towards the door, ready to leave and look for you. 
The second he pulls down the door handle, the jingle of the door unlocking from the outside sounds and the door swings open, making you and Caleb jump when he catches you in his arms from bumping into each other.
“Caleb!” You squeal, flustered at the way you completely ran into him. His warmth is radiating over to your skin. “Are you okay? Where were you gonna go?”
You watch a small pout form on his lips. He truly looks like a puppy when he does that, you can't help but think. 
“Look for you”, he curtly replies, making sure you've regained your balance before he releases your arms.
You straighten your posture, and sheepishly touch the nape of your neck, immediately avoiding his gaze. 
“Ah, right. Well, I got carried away with chatting with my friends and all…” 
Caleb crosses his arms. His pout turns into a frown, and his eyebrows are scrunched. 
Shit. He looks mad.
You inch closer to him, your fingers grazing over his knuckles. 
“I'm sorry, Caleb. Don't be mad okay? I'm home now, safe and sound, in the flesh, aren't I?”
Caleb breathes steadily, keeping his expression the same, but when you take his palm and nuzzle your cheek against it, Caleb feels the anxiety and frustration dissolve. He wants to reprimand you about the curfew, and why he implemented it in the first place. If you’ve stayed missing for a second longer, he would have completely lost it. But the moment his palm nearly touches your lips, it all dissipates, as if it never existed. 
Caleb exhales a sigh of defeat, letting it go just this time, alongside the countless times he did. 
“Go shower. I left the heater on for you.” 
You respond with a cheeky smile that makes something in Caleb’s chest bloom, and he lets you go, watching you disappear into your room. 
Caleb hears a knock on his door. He walks over and opens it, watching you coming into view. 
“Is there something you need, pipsqueak?”
You squeeze through the crack of the partially opened door and occupy his bed. 
“I'm just bored.”
Even though Caleb cocks his eyebrow, he still sprouts his smile, walking over to join you on his bed.
“Not because you're trying to make it up to me for coming back past curfew?”
Shit. 
Your smile playfully drops to a pout. “I got carried away yapping with my friends. You know I didn't mean to…” 
Caleb crosses his arms again.
“I could tell. My messages were all left unread.”
You curl your fingers to your lips when you realise you've been caught.
Caleb seems upset but you still see the softness beneath. 
He sighs. 
“I'm doing this for your own good, pipsqueak. I don't like you getting caught up in this.”
Caleb likes to think that it is that way, but he knows that it's more than just that. 
“As you can tell–” you’re showing off your body–your arms first then your legs, then your abdomen. But what Caleb didn't expect you to do was lift up your shirt slightly, your skin exposed, and have your shorts hike up your thighs, just to prove your point. “Nothing! You can check me for tracking devices too if you want to.” 
Something snaps in him.
“So do you let your friends inspect your body like that?” 
He crawls onto the bed, watching the smile slowly drop from your face. 
Caleb’s fingers trace your bare skin, drawing goosebumps from how ghostly the touches feel. His fingers slide from the top of your knees, and towards your thighs.
“Do you know how worried I was when you didn't answer my messages?”
You’re about to part your lips to respond, but he cuts you off. 
“I was wondering what conversations you were having that you ignored me.” 
“Caleb–”
He’s completely trapped you against the headboard of his bed. He's trapped you with his stare. 
Caleb inches closer, until he's close enough. His eyes glance down to your lips for a split second before his gaze meets yours again. 
Your breath is shaky when he leans in closer. 
Then he turns away. 
What the fuck? 
You watch in disbelief as he pulls away, your breath still caught in your throat from the tension.
Caleb’s signature smile returns and you feel his palm stroke the back of your head. 
“You should go back to bed. It's late.” 
He turns to open his door for you to leave. 
“Maybe I should start coming home later too.” 
He pauses in his steps. 
“I don't think that's a bright idea, pipsqueak.”
You slide off his bed and walk towards his door. 
“Maybe not. But I have brighter ones that consist of escaping your curfew.” 
You’re ready to leave the room with your victory, that is, until the door before you completely shuts. You see his shadow tower over you from behind. 
You turn to face Caleb, your arms are crossed. 
“Didn’t you ask me to go to bed?” 
“Changed my mind. I wanna make sure you're thoroughly inspected.”
You’re facing Caleb, back on his bed again. He starts with your face, but he lets his fingers linger around your lips, brushing across your bottom lip. You turn away, and his fingers catch your chin, forcing you to face Caleb.
“No looking away.”
His eyes are devouring every patch of skin that exists on your body. Even though you're clothed, you feel naked when he has his eyes on you this intensely. His fingertips trace back to your lips and he slides it down painfully slowly–past your chin, down your neck, through your sternum, past your stomach, and stops right above the elastic of your shorts. 
You want to shift, but you realise you can't–your body suddenly feels weighed down to the bed, and that's when you realise Caleb has you held down with his Evol.
The softness in Caleb’s eyes disappears, and something else replaces it. You watch him tug your shorts off you, and all you can do is watch helplessly. 
His kisses tickle from your ankle, and he builds them upwards at an agonising pace, each kiss feeling warmer as he travels up your thigh. 
Your heartbeat only accelerates from there, watching Caleb inch closer and closer to your cunt. Your thighs tense up from the sensitivity, the warmth of his lips spreading over your skin when you feel his tongue come in contact with your skin. 
“That tickles”, your voice is soft, as if the defiance in your tone before never existed.
Caleb’s lips press against your clothed pussy. Despite the fact that you’re trembling slightly, you've completely soaked your panties, and Caleb is more than happy to soak them even more. 
He buries his tongue, wetting the fabric even further. The pleasure draws soft moans, but evidently, it's not enough. 
“Caleb… Could you lighten your Evol?” You plead. You want to feel him so bad. 
Your body instantly lightens, and you almost think you're gonna fall off the bed. 
Something else holds you down this time, and it's Caleb. 
He tilts your chin up to have your lips meet his, now his kisses melting off the thoughts in your brain. Warmth burns through your skin. It takes you seconds to realise Caleb is lifting your shirt off you.
The clothing article is the next victim tossed somewhere else on the bed. 
You take his cheeks to your palms.
“I really need you now, Caleb.”
The softness returns to his eyes momentarily. 
“Are you sure you're okay with this?”
“I'll hop off right now and head straight to bed if you don't”, you huff. Fuck, the anticipation is just clawing through your insides, begging for Caleb to do something.
He playfully scoffs. 
“We both know you wouldn't.” 
Caleb tugs your panties to the side, and lines himself to your hole.
He thrusts into you in one swift motion, and you feel it all the way in. It knocks your breath out of you. Caleb watches you helplessly gasp for air and adjust to his size. He’s just filled you so full. 
He’s still supporting you so you don't fucking pass out. He feels you scratch all over his back from the pressure but he stays still, at least, until you've adjusted. 
“Shit. You're so fuckin’ warm for me”, he hisses into your neck, trying his best not to thrust into you. You feel so tight for him, he feels so good just staying there.
He stretches you open for him–your pussy fluttering at the feeling of him filling you up. The pressure slowly fades and you quickly adjust to his size.
Your vision blurs when he thrusts into you from below–the sensation so overwhelming that it's making you tear up. 
“So good”, you sigh, struggling to keep your eyes open–almost impossible when his cock is hitting your g-spot over and over again. Sparks burst into your eyelids whenever he hits the spot and it's evident that he knows he’s able to unravel you just like that, so easily. 
“Caleb…”, you moan. Caleb’s still fucking you, feeling the way you're just squeezing him, watching the way your fingers have gone clawing his back to his bedsheets, the way your tits are bouncing from fucking you, the way your eyes practically form hearts when he knows he's hit your sensitive spots.
“Faster, please. You feel so fucking good.”
He knows you shouldn't have said that. You're the only person who can rile him up like this. How the hell are you making him break his resolve when he's supposed to be upset with you?
He leans in, practically hovering over you. His fingers cup your cheek and he forces you to meet his violet eyes. 
In your fucked out haze, you blink, confused when he slows down. He pulls out completely, and you're about to complain until he rolls your soiled panties off your legs, tossing it to somewhere on the bed. 
You gasp when you feel his thumb graze over your wet and throbbing clit. 
“I'm gonna make you wonder what the fuck wrong with your body”, Caleb’s voice reaches your ears. His words sends a shiver down your spine.
“Your little pussy is gonna throb every time you think of me.”
That's all the warning he gives before his arms tower over you, holding your wrists down above your head. 
He fucks you into an orbit and you're practically helpless–forced to take his thrusts over and over. But fuck, it feels so good. It feels like fucking heaven. 
You like how dizzy it makes you feel. You like how he's not stopping, no matter how much tears stream down your face, and how pathetic you sound crying and moaning his name. 
“Fuck! Caleb, it's too much–” you whimper, the strange feeling building up in your stomach. It feels like it's about to snap any second. 
He acknowledges your words, but he doesn't bother slowing down. 
“Didn’t you promise me to be a good girl and take all of it?” 
“Caleb–!”
Your voice sounds so heavenly when you call his name.
The fluids fountains out of you, soaking everything near it's vincity–including the both of you. Your orgasm continues to wash over you and more fluids spray out.
Caleb watches you squirm and jolt while you make a mess all over him. 
He lets go of your wrists, the slight redness forming onto your skin, and his thumb caresses your bottom lip. 
Despite your arms feeling sore from resisting against his hold, you wrap them around his neck, pulling him close to catch his lips. He's taken back for a split second, but he returns the kiss, letting his soft moans drown into your lips while you clench around him.
When you both pull back, it's Caleb’s turn to have his eyes glazed and his cheeks dusted a soft shade of pink. 
“y/n, if you keep doin’ that–fuck”, Caleb groans, his fingers closing into a fist against the sheets. His breath is shaky. The euphoria is threatening to spill over–the fact that you're trapping him in like this with you, just the two of you solely existing together right now–he could get high off this feeling. He doesn't need anything else. 
“I'm so close. Shit.” You watch the bead of sweat trickle down his temple, down to his cheek, to his chin, and then it disappears into the mess the both of you made below. 
Caleb’s voice makes you refocus on him. 
His palm presses against your cheek again, his thumb brushing lightly on the corner of your lips. 
“You're gonna take all of it like a good girl, yeah?” 
You nod, almost too eagerly. Caleb can't help but think that your face after being fucked looks breathtakingly beautiful. It makes him want to hide you further. The world doesn't deserve someone like you. 
He crashes his lips with yours, melting into the kiss while he pumps you full with his thick cum–making sure he has himself seated deep inside so nothing spills out. At least, not until he pulls out.
The high slowly descends, and the both of you are left panting, getting lost in each other’s eyes just for that moment before Caleb slowly pulls out. 
Caleb then reaches for the glass of water perched on his nightstand to offer you. You take a good few sips of water, and hand it back to Caleb, who takes a couple of sips as well. He notices the way your cheeks are still flushed and that you're blinking more. He plants the empty glass onto the nightstand, ready to carry you to wash up and probably change the sheets after.
In a daze, you notice Caleb’s cum seeping out of your hole in small loads. You wet two fingers and slide them to your pussy–and you push the thick fluids back in, your body jolting in pleasure while you're pretty much fingering your pussy with Caleb’s cum.
Caleb swallows hard while he watches you pleasure yourself. He’s about to say something but you cut him off.
“Your cum keeps leaking out”, you point out, giving him the full view of your cum-soaked pussy. You look up at him with an innocent, poison-soaked gaze–your lashes wet and your thighs trembling from each time you feel his cum leak out of you.
“It’d be such a waste–”, you mutter, shivering one more time when your fingers fuck you again, the room only filled with your voice and the wet squelching sounds from your pussy.
“–if it doesn't stay inside.” 
You barely have time to process what happens next. The next thing you knew, Caleb has your hands pinned above your head with one hand, and the other on your cheeks. His legs stop you from closing yours, and you feel his wet thickness hard once more, resting on your pubic bone.
“You know, pipsqueak”, his voice drops an octave lower. His voice is clear, and he makes sure you hear him. “It's okay to just ask for more.” His eyes reflect such a gorgeous shade of wild you've never seen before, and it looks fucking good on him.
No warnings–your cunt is just wet and sopping that Caleb stuffs you to fullness once more–you give up trying to keep your eyelids open, your mind only processing the way he’s fucking so deep into you again and again.
“You know I'll always give it to you.” 
The way his fingers are cupping your cheeks stops you from answering. Well, he doesn't need a verbal response, especially not when you’re clenching him so fucking tight when your orgasm hits you for the…how many times was it now?
You feel stings that slowly dull around your shoulders and chest. The bites Caleb’s given you are as red as the ruby on his apple necklace. 
The night is drowned with sounds and sensations of both you competing to send each other to the heavens. 
What day is it now? 
Caleb blinks his heavy eyelids open. He soaks in the atmosphere around him, and it doesn't take him long to realise that you're lying on his arm.
Thankfully, it's not numb. Your hair tickles his cheeks. 
He notices the light peeking through his curtains. It's probably daytime. 
Caleb presses his lips against the back of your head, while he pulls you closer. He almost jolts when he hears a soft moan coming from you.
For some reason, something feels funny. 
He attempts to shift slightly, and realises the predicament–his dick is still hard as fuck, and he’s still nestled so fucking deep in you. Fuck. Did the both of you fall asleep mid-sex? The feeling bleeds into him again. 
Are you even awake to realise this? 
Caleb bites his inner cheek, the hardness only builds. Shit. Even after all of that, you're still this warm and tight? 
He watches your breathing steadily. 
He hooks your leg over his arm almost too easily, giving himself easier access to fuck you deeper. Your sleepiness is slowly dissipating, overtaken so fucking quick by the burning desire once more.
His thrusts bear slight friction at first, but somehow that only adds to the pleasure–the rawness, the fact that he's left a mess in you and kept that way, and that he gets to do it all over again in the morning. 
“Ca…Caleb..!” You squeal, uselessly fisting the pillows while Caleb rails you from below. 
“So perfectly warm for me, y/n”, his morning voice dousing you. He takes advantage to litter more bites to the back of your neck and shoulders, and spoils you with his strained moans when he reflects the way you whimper whenever he hits your sensitive spots. 
You sheepishly bury your teary face into the pillows, and Caleb pushes himself impossibly deeper, forcing you to face him when you jolt in surprise. His violet eyes are eating you up. You hear his voice ring in your ears.
“Wanna make you cry more like this. You're so pretty when you cry when I'm splittin’ you open like this.” 
More tears stream down your cheeks whenever your g-spot gets abused over and over. Caleb forces you to meet his gaze. His thrusts are slower, but harder. 
“Shit, you're really gonna milk me dry, yeah?” Caleb hisses when he feels you flutter around him. Your cum is mixed with his, and drips down his cock, to his balls. 
Caleb pulls you tighter, deepening the kiss one last time while he breeds you full over and over for nth time since the last night, devouring your whimpers when the words you muttered to him last night comes into memory. You're so dizzy with pleasure, and Caleb has stolen all of your breaths. 
He finally pulls out, his cum endlessly drizzling out of your abused hole, and it almost sets him off again. 
Nonetheless, he forces himself to get out of bed so he can get a towel and clean you up.
Another loving kiss he presses onto your temple.
“I'm gonna get a towel, pipsqueak.” His husky whispers send shivers down your body, and the warmth of his touch lingers on your thighs for a lot longer than you realise.
He leaves the bed for the bathroom. 
You nuzzle into the pillows Caleb was just lying on, drowning yourself with his scent. The wetness that sticks between your legs–you can't tell if it's your fresh arousal or if it's his cum anymore.  
Not that it mattered since steadying your breath when you realised he was still in you when you stirred before him to see what he'd do next, gave you such a big reward. 
And you'd do it all over again. You would say things to get under his skin, just to get a rise out of him, just to keep his attention on you, always. 
You wanted to keep his strained voice when he called your name, the way he looks at you with so much desperation when he breeds you full, in a bottle and store it for your perverted indulgence. 
No one else needs to know that this part of Caleb exists, because he belongs to you. 
The dim light catches your attention underneath the thick sheets. You take the device, unlocking the phone with your fingerprint. 
6 missed calls. 
You swipe them away. You shut off his phone.
He doesn't need to know.
He doesn't need to remember.
At least, not when he's with you. 
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arathejedi394 · 2 days ago
Text
that meme of bucky with the twitter post saying "the winter soldier having flashbacks of gay sex and not knowing why"
“I think I’m gay,” Bucky announces abruptly.
Sam chokes on his beer. Bucky claps him on the back, looking pensively into the dark water. Sam gets a breath, then clears his throat several times before licking his lips.
“What makes you say that?” he asks casually.
“I remember having gay sex,” Bucky answers ponderously. “A lot.”
"A lot?" Sam repeats, now bewildered.
Bucky just nods slowly, his gaze distant. Sam blinks several times, wondering what the hell he's imagining.
“With who?” he demands, looking at him with eyebrows high on his forehead.
Bucky just frowns. “I don’t know. A couple of guys. A big one and a little one.”
Sam looks out at the water, too, mouthing under his breath about how fucking stupid this man can get. Then takes Bucky’s cigarette and drags on it. Bucky snatches it back.
“You’re not a super soldier,” he snaps. “No smoking, kid.”
“Sorry,” Sam replies. “I mean, about – About not remembering… Hm… Oof. That’s, uh, that’s rough, buddy.” He claps Bucky on the shoulder, glancing over his shoulder with a grimace for their friend, the one who was little but now is big and is now retired so he can paint large blue watercolors of some vague masculine figure over and over again, that friend. He faces the water again and blows out his breath. Idiots. Jesus Christ man.
Bucky sighs, wistful, then drags on the cigarette himself. The boat rocks behind them.
“Did I hear you say you remember having gay sex?” Steve calls from behind them.
Bucky glances over his shoulder at him. “Yeah,” he says, nodding. “You know anything about that?”
Sam looks at Steve, raising his eyebrows. Steve’s lower lip wobbles for a second and then he just smiles.
“I’m sure you’ll remember,” he then says quietly.
Bucky nods, turning back. Sam drops his jaw at Steve, who just lowers his gaze and sits down on a bench, hands in his lap and head down. Like a kicked puppy. Sam blusters, half gesturing between the two of them, but Steve shoots him a glare and Bucky doesn't notice. Sam looks between the two of them for over a minute, just watching these two idiots standing five feet apart because they’re not gay.
“Okay,” Sam declares, “that’s it! I’ve had it up to HERE with the homoerotic tension on this boat!”
Bucky looks up, frowning. Steve jerks his head up, too, his eyes wide. Sam points with both hands at Steve, but looks at Bucky.
“He knows somethin’ about you being gay for sure!” he snaps. “Frankly, I think he knows more about it than you do! Double frankly! I know that for a mothafuckin' fact!”
Bucky opens his mouth, looking bewildered, then glances between Steve and Sam. “Huh?”
Sam slaps himself in the face with the hand not holding his beer. Bucky frowns at Steve. Steve blushes and looks towards the stern of the boat. Bucky suddenly gasps, jerking a hand up to point.
“I fucked you!” he shouts.
Steve blushes harder, bright red behind his beard, as he look down into his lap, then he nods, seeming speechless.
Sam smacks himself on the forehead again, making a face at their stupidity. Then Bucky shoves his cigarette back into his hand, and he storms right up to Steve and hauls him off the bench by the back of his shirt. Steve squeaks adorably for a man of his large size, but Bucky starts dragging him off the boat.
“Okay?” Sam calls after them as Steve stumbles to keep up with Bucky. “Bye, I guess?”
“Thanks!” Bucky shouts over his shoulder.
“What’s going on?” Steve says.
“I’m fucking your face in that alley over there, sweetheart,” Bucky announces. "Then I'm coming all over your beard."
“I did not need to hear that!” Sam shouts back. “Didn’t need to hear that! I expect to be both of y’all’s best man at your wedding! And the officiant! And I’mma give both of y’all away, too!” He turns, then pivots, jabbing his finger in their direction. “And it better be a destination wedding, gay ass dumbasses! I wanna go to Bali!”
Steve waves his middle finger behind him as he skips, eagerly, along behind Bucky down the pier. Sam shakes his head, turns, and puffs on the cigarette again.
“Gay ass dumbasses,” he mutters, “one looks over, the other’s already looking away. My ass.”
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always-just-red · 2 days ago
Note
Oh I forgot to add 😭😭😭 be it fluff like jelly sylus but fluff maybe he trying to make the mc jelly too ? I’m going wild with ideas, I will be quiet
(Part 1 of ask) FINALLY finished this fic oh my goshhh I've loved it so much but writer's block was my constant companion for this one 🫠 Thanks for your patience!! Sy is jealous but I'm still pushing my 'Sylus is the softest man alive and would die before hurting MC' agenda, so I had to get a lil creative! Hope I've pulled it off idk 😭😭
Be Mine
Sylus x Reader 🩸
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Summary: Sylus is getting a little tired of sharing you with the other men in your life (and he doesn't mean Luke and Kieran 🙃)
Genre: lil bit of angst, comfort and fluff
Warnings/Additional tags: gn!reader, jealousy, other LIs mentioned, brief allusion to Raf's self-harm tendencies, cheating mentioned, some intimacy & kisses-- more soft than spicy!
| Word count: 4k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!
Sylus has spent centuries waiting for you, so he’s going to give you another minute.
Patience is not a virtue; it’s an old acquaintance he greets with a false smile whenever he’s forced to pass it on the street. Sometimes outside your building, whilst you’re chatting with a neighbour from the apartment above yours. Sometimes when you’re running late from a doctor’s appointment.
Patience has been cropping up a lot these days and gods, he’s sick of its face. Even now, it sits with him at this table for two as he sips at a glass that’s almost empty. There’s poetry in stalling, in savouring what’s left, especially as a waiter hovers anxiously nearby, anticipating the need for yet another refill (it would be the third).
Dregs of blood-red wine swirl with solemnity. Sylus is a patient man, a man who waits, but he doesn’t want to be. He wants the reward of it: the pot of gold at the end of that insipid rainbow. Hasn’t he waited enough?
He lifts his drink to his lips again.
“Sylus!”
They curve as he swallows the final drop.
“I’m so sorry,” you stammer, flinging yourself into the seat across from him so quickly that he’s cheated of the chance to rise and help you with your chair. “Sit back down,” you usher, because he had made a start on it, “really, Sy, I’m so, so sorry. Things at work just got crazy, and I—”
“You don’t have to explain, sweetie,” he smiles as he signals the waiter. He’ll have that refill, now, and he orders your favourite drink as you shrug off your coat and fumble with your bag, looking for something. “I’m more than familiar with the Association’s… dedication to a cause.”
You glance up with an amused smile. “We’re keeping you on your toes, huh?”
“Mmm. There is one hunter who’s proving to be a real thorn in my side.”
“You on top of that?”
“Most evenings, yes. Some mornings, too.”
You poke your tongue out at him. You’ve retrieved a compact mirror and you use it to study your dishevelled reflection. “Is everything all right at work?” he asks as you fuss over your hair.
“Yeah,” you puff. “Long story.”
“We have time.”
With a warmer smile, you stash your mirror away and sequester your bag by your feet. “You sure?” He gives you a look. “Fine,” you chuckle. “Basically, Xavier forgot to write up some reports. He’s been away on an ultra-secret, special mission or whatever—” you tap your nose conspiratorially— “which I didn’t just tell you, okay? But yeah, the reports weren’t done, and they were due tonight, so…”
Sylus raises an apathetic eyebrow. “He asked you to help?”
“Begged me, more like.”
Of course he did. The waiter arrives with your drinks and Sylus has never been gladder for a distraction. His mouth is full of pettiness, bitterness, so he drowns it with wine. You could have called. Texted. “So kitten’s been playing secretary, hmm?” he goads instead.
“That would imply kitten could keep track of time,” you pout, “so no. And speaking of playing a part—” you poke his nose— “you’re allowed to be mad at me. I should have called you. Texted. So let me have it, yeah? I feel bad enough already without you being all… perfect.”
You’re only teasing, but Sylus doesn’t feel perfect. He’s thinking about you working late with your partner, laughing at his jokes, poking him with your pen to keep him from falling asleep on his paperwork. He smirks, regardless. “What if I want you to feel bad?”
“Oh, gods,” you slump forwards, face-down on the table. “How long were you waiting?”
“Years.”
You fake cry into the tablecloth. “Don’t, Sy. Just tell me the truth. How bad was it?”
“Really, years,” he insists again, folding his arms on the table and sliding forwards, too. His chin is resting on his hands, and he blows at the top of your head. “Look.” Your face lifts so you can peer at him. He pinches his hair. “I’ve even gone grey, see?”
You sit up the tiniest bit more and your noses are almost brushing. “It looks nice,” you whisper.
“You think so?”
“Mmm. Suits you.”
Your eyes are every gem— every jewel in an illicit auction Sylus has to steal away from the rest of the world, because something that pretty just has to be his; it will find no worthier home than his hands. His devotion fills vaults. Aren’t they spilling with emeralds, rubies, sapphires, diamonds— those reckless imitations of your gaze? No-one else could deserve them, adore them like he does.
And they’ve nothing on the real thing.
Someone clears their throat and Sylus tracks the noise begrudgingly. The anxious waiter is back, clutching menus this time. You sit up fully, laughing to break the tension, and sure enough, Sylus feels less like hurling the man through the nearest window.
He’s still thinking about it though. He tells the waiter as much with a smile, and the menus are passed over with shaking hands. When Sylus says, “thank you,” it sounds like a bomb, ticking.
“Play nice,” you tut, once the waiter’s cleared the blast radius.
“Sweetie, when do I ever not play nice?”
You blink back at him disbelievingly. This should be good. “How about the time that you—?”
A familiar ringtone interrupts you, and your eyes widen in apology as you grab at your bag, rifling around for your phone. You find it— check the call and decline it— but relief is hiding, refusing to set foot on stage. Not yet, it confers to Sylus darkly, because it knows what comes next.
“Do you need to…?” he asks anyway.
“Nah, it was just Rafayel. Thanks, though.” You set the phone down. “Where was I?”
“You were about to tell me what a terribly bad man I am, sweetie.”
“Right!” you giggle. No, not yet. “So how about the time that you…” The phone rings again. You check it. Decline it. “How about the time that you—ugh!” It’s ringing again.
Sylus taps a finger on the table, impatiently patient. You can’t mute the wretched thing: the next call you miss would be a Wanderer, tearing through an orphanage or the like. It’s the reason you check, even when there’re no orphans at stake— just a pest of an artist with too much time on his hands.
Except… “Oh,” you say, glancing downwards, “it’s Zayne. I should probably—” Sylus gives a half-smile of blessing, but you weren’t waiting around for it— “hey, Zayne! I can’t talk right now, unless— Raf? What the hell? How did you get Zayne’s phone?”
You pull yours away from your ear as a string of whines come through:
“— ignore my calls, don’t even text me to ask what’s up, and then pick up his call right away? You hate me, right? Just say that you hate me, cutie.”
“I don’t hate you, Raf.” The phone is back to your ear. “I’m busy. Now seriously, how did you get— oh, hi, Zayne. Why is Raf…?” Sylus can hear a deeper voice answering your questions. “He’s at the—? Shit, is he okay? Ugh, tell him I can hear him. Tell him I know he’s not dying.”
You meet Sylus’s eyes as conflict erupts on the other end of the call. Sorry, you mouth as static filters through, interspersed with broken words and curses. The doctor’s voice prevails. “Yeah, Zayne,” you speak back to it. “I’ll call Thomas, get him to pick him up. Mmhmm? Oh!” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “I forgot, he’s at that stupid art thing. Look, maybe later, I can…”
The artist’s shrill tone is protesting.
“I know it’s my job, Raf!” you counter. “But gimme a break, please. If it was any other night, you know I’d be there. Of course I wanna be there! But I can’t—”
It’s just a slip of the tongue— words you don’t even realise you’re saying— but Sylus still feels his heart sink. He hates it. A heart is so difficult to argue with: it’s long gone before you can talk any sense into it. He stands from the table, those priceless eyes of yours pursuing him. When you tilt your head, he musters a smile, then a weak excuse: “I’m just stepping outside for a moment.”
You nod, a follow-up question on the tip of your tongue, but then there’s a voice in your ear again— two voices— and you’re you, so of course you listen.
Sylus waits on a bench outside the restaurant, closing his eyes as he waits for his heart to come back.
It’s only been a few minutes. He’s thinking about your eyes, your nose and lips— an inch from his— and how he should have closed that gap before it grew treacherous. Shouldn’t he be done with this? This… longing? You’re his. You’ve told him you’re his, over and over again, but he finds himself needing to hear it once more; the ghost of your voice is starting to lack persuasion.
He is yours without exception, but you? There’s always a caveat. I’m yours, Sylus. But only so long as the city is quiet. I’m yours, Sylus. Until someone else calls. The door to the restaurant opens— he can hear it— but he doesn’t open his eyes. He wants to pretend.
I’m yours, Sylus. No caveats. No exceptions.
“Sylus.”
He swallows the dread in his throat.
“I’m sorry,” you entreat softly. His eyes open, and you’re wearing your coat, holding your bag. “I have to run to the hospital— it’s this whole thing. Raf, like, passed out or something. He’s not been eating again. Zayne said when something like this keeps happening, it’s a sign that… yeah. He just… needs someone. And he hasn’t got anyone else, you know?”
“I understand.” You’re worried about your friend. That’s all it is.
Why can’t he believe that’s all it is?  
You come over and sink down on the bench beside him, looping your arm through his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. Don’t you know that he’s afraid? That a selfish, spiteful part of him wants to hide you— with the rest of his treasures— away from the light, so he can love you in the dark?
There’s a sigh as you lean against him, savouring his touch like the wine one swirls in a glass when their thoughts are elsewhere. It’s gone in a mouthful; you check your watch, and he hopes it’s bitter.
“Are you okay?” you ask.
No, he would rather be sweet for you, but look at you— making him lie. “I’m okay,” he says, and it doesn’t have a drop of conviction. He’s tired of philanthropy.
“What are you gonna do? Come on, tell us. Tell us! What are you gonna do?”
“I don’t know, Luke. Give me a second, okay? Jeez.”
You literally just got here. Your pace is brisk and the night air still clings to you— you shed a layer of it by peeling your arms out of your coat. Luke and Kieran are close behind, keeping to your heels like terriers hoping you’ll trip with a plateful of food. They’ll take even a crumb at this point.
“You gonna fight him?” Kieran nudges, but your lips stay tight.
“Oh, you’re so gonna fight him,” Luke takes away from the silence.
You don’t know what you’re going to do. You’ve reached a decadent lounge, lavished with black and gold, and you throw your coat over the arm of a chair before starting to wrestle off your combat boots. You’ve been off work for hours, but it doesn’t feel like it. One call-to-duty after another; first the hospital, now this.
Mephisto caws in greeting from a nearby perch. “I’m not gonna fight him,” you say as your second boot drops with a clunk. “I just need to—”
“Say no more,” Luke cuts you off. “We want in.”
With a tired sigh, you gaze up at the twins at last. Kieran is readying a fist: punching his hand softly, the beak of his mask low and threatening. Beside him, Luke swings a baseball bat over his shoulder. He didn’t have it a second ago. Where did he even—?
You put your hands on your hips. “You guys got a death wish or something?”
“Yes!” they enthuse together, nodding excitedly.
You haven’t got time to ask. Your focus drifts to Sylus’s bedroom door, where music is leaking with honeylike light. You can’t count the number of times you’ve fallen over that threshold, exhausted— always slightly broken. You want to crawl into cool silk sheets and a warmer embrace, but there’s one small problem.
The text that had brought you here, anxious and out of breath:
Boss is with someone.
“What’re you thinking?”
You’re closer to the door, now, and Luke’s whisper makes you jump. You spin, twisting the bat from his fingers and pushing him back until the tip is pressed to his throat. “Get back,” you hiss, before levelling the weapon at an encroaching Kieran, “both of you.”
Luke leaps behind his brother— swinging him between you for protection. The baseball bat stays hovering, and Luke peeks over Kieran’s shoulder, swatting at it like an indignant kitten.
“Stop it,” you scold, poking back at his hand and his masked face. “Begone!”
“Yes, boss!” Kieran goes to move, but Luke is holding him in place. He’s dragged backwards: a human shield until they can both scurry around the turn of a corridor.
You smile fondly. You forget, for just a moment, that you’re alone and full of uncertainty. The song in the next room lulls, at its inevitable end, and then you can’t forget. You’re stood in silence, staring at a door you’ve never had to knock before. Another song starts up.
Whatever this is, you can handle it.
You use the baseball bat to tap against the dark wood. “Sylus?” you call.
He makes you wait. You can hear him, moving around— unmistakably taking his time— but you don’t mind. You’re running scenarios through your head. Is he in on this, too? Or…?
He opens the door and oh, he definitely is. His silk robe hangs haphazardly over his figure, one side threatening to slip from his shoulder and the belt dangerously loose at the middle. A flush is tinting his face, spreading down through his neck, past his collarbone and lower, you think, but you’re trying not to look.
“Sweetie,” he purrs in the way that tells you he’s up to no good, “what a pleasant surprise.” His eyes flit downwards. “And you’re armed, too.”
There’s a breathlessness to the observation, and your ability to breathe briefly eludes you as well. His hair is damp and unkempt, his skin warm, his gaze hot. Is this a test? It feels like a test.
“Are you alone?” you snap, because he’s clearly put some thought into whatever it is, and you’re a good sport, so you’ll play along.
“No,” he says, but then: “You know you’re always with me in spirit, kitten. Even if not in—” another downwards glance— “body.”
“Sylus.”
“Mmm?”
“I’m going to ask you one more time.” You catch his chin with your free hand, forcing his gaze back to your face. “And I want a real answer.” He swallows thickly. “Are you alone?”
His submission is fragile. He lifts his hand, wraps his fingers around your wrist like a reminder of the fact. “Careful, sweetie.” His grip tightens as his voice drops. “Think about what you’re asking.”
“I know what I’m asking.” You snatch your hand free and step closer. “Get out of my way.”
Sylus narrows his eyes, but soon relaxes. He sweeps a hand through his hair, chuckling as he obeys— moving aside to let you past. You storm through, looking over every visible inch of his room. There’s nothing to see, of course. No clothes that aren’t yours pooled over the floor. No lover wrapped up in his bedsheets.
“Just what exactly are you looking for?” he asks smugly behind you.
“Save it, Sylus.” Your pretend patience is gone. “The twins told me everything.”
So you start searching more strenuously. You make your way over to his bed, baseball bat slung over your shoulder as you check behind the far side— even stooping to peek under it. You open the wardrobe. Nothing. Use the baseball bat to push back the curtains, letting in more blood-red moonlight. Nothing. You huff in frustration.
“You know, don’t you?” Sylus says quietly.
He’s leant against the doorway, arms crossed, and you spare him a glance. “Know what?”  
“That there’s no-one here.”
It sounds like defeat. “I’m taking this very seriously, actually,” you dismiss as you roll open the drawer of his bedside table, where no-one is hiding. You move on to even more absurd places: lifting flowers out of their vase to glance about inside it, peering into the horn of his vintage gramophone.
You’d hoped your antics would elicit at least a short laugh, or a scoff of amusement. There’s nothing, though, so you plonk onto the bed— defeated, yourself— and look to the man as you set your weapon down.
He looks back with an insincere smile. “How did you know?”
“That you weren’t really with someone? Because you’re you, Sylus. The key to a good prank?” Your fingers twinkle in the air beside your head. “Believability. Besides—” now a forefinger taps at your temple— “nothing gets past this.”
“Your ego?” he guesses with a smirk that is sincere, if nothing else.
“My brain, Sy.”
“Ah.”
Your ego— tsk. Your feet are dangling from the bed, playing with a slipper they’ve fished out from underneath it, and you have half a mind to launch it at him. This doesn’t feel like one of your usual games, though, and you’ve had a whole ride through the N109 Zone to figure out why.
“I really hurt you, didn’t I?” you speak like a confession, staring down at the floor so you don’t have to meet his eyes. “That’s what all this is about, right? You wanted to get back at me for dinner?”
“No, I—”
“I get it.” Your feet find the second slipper. “I do. I mean, it was a really shitty thing to do— walking out on you like that. Especially after you waited for me. You went to all that effort, and I— ah.” You’ve toed one of the slippers out of reach.
“Allow me,” comes a voice that’s suddenly close. Sylus’s figure looms over you before he’s crouching, kneeling by your feet. He still looks like a mess of sin, but he’s gentle as he retrieves the slipper for you. Removes your socks for you. Slides a slipper onto each of your cold feet. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he mutters.
You let out a sigh. “Sylus.” You’re scolding him, and he gazes up at you, his eyes garnets of adoration only you could afford. “You can tell me anything, you know.”
“I know, sweetie.”
“So why won’t you tell me how you feel?”
He sits back on his knees, his thumb drawing circles on the inside of your ankle. The ministrations are mindless, and so are his words: “How I feel is not important.”
“Of course it is!” You pull away from him. “Don’t say things like that.”
“But I thought I could tell you anything, kitten.”
It’s a nick from a blade that could do much worse; he wants you to feel how sharp it is. His smile is a warning and he’s waiting for the hunter in you to strike back, because violence is what you’re good at. What you’re both good at. It hurts, but it’s easy.
You shift forward on the bed. “Sylus… you don’t need to protect me. Not from you. Not from anything you feel. I want you to be happy, to tell me if you’re unhappy. I don’t need you to—” your fingers skirt over his chest and you falter inexplicably— “to sacrifice yourself for me.”
Sylus looks down to where you’re tracing the shape of his heart on his skin. He lets out a long, beleaguered breath, then leans closer to you, his head turning away as he settles it on your lap. Your hands find his hair instinctually, threading through it in slow, meandering motions.
“I want you to be mine,” he admits on another sigh.
He can’t see you smile, but he’ll hear it in your voice: “I am yours, Sy—”
“No— just mine.”
He won’t make it a demand. Even asking you nicely has him breathless and still, like the drawn-out pause of a finished symphony. Your hands stop moving, out of respect for the quiet. You’re remembering the times you’ve been late out of your building because you’d stumbled into Xavier in the lobby. The doctor’s appointments that always overrun, and Rafayel’s ‘emergency’ phone calls.
“Come and sit with me,” you mumble, patting the bed beside you.
When Sylus does, it’s with the same reluctance a cat surrenders a sliver of sun. Lazy and listless— still warm from the light. The bed sinks under his weight and you turn to face him. His robe’s collar has fallen further, so you hook a finger under it to draw it back up to his neck. Then you straighten the lapels, smoothing them over distractedly.
He’s watching your face, not the movements of your hands. Your cheeks feel warm. “I was speaking to Rafayel earlier, and we—”
A groan, and Sylus is no longer at your fingertips; he’s flopped down backwards on the bed, his hand over his face. You can’t help giggling— you’ve broken the big, bad boss of Onychinus, it seems. Is that all it takes? You grin as you lie down with him, settling on your side, propped up on an elbow. He doesn’t stir when you fix a few stray strands of his hair.
“We talked about boundaries,” you continue. “How I can’t be on call twenty-four seven, and how he’s going to take better care of himself, so I don’t have to be.”
Sylus has moved his hand, ever so slightly.
There’s more: “I’m gonna call in sick to work tomorrow. I made a deal with Xavier, that’s why I stayed late today. He’ll cover for me.” You shift closer. “I wanted it to be a surprise. I know I can’t always be with you, but I am always thinking of you, I promise. You’re always with me in spirit, Sy, even if not in—” you press a quick kiss to his chest— “body.”
He chuckles at the words, or maybe the touch tickled.
You grin down at him. “I’m yours. Say it.”
“I’m yours.”
���No! Ugh, just—” Smart-ass! You flick his forehead as he laughs quietly. “Not the words ‘I’m yours’, say that I’m—”
His hand is at your face, pulling you in so he can kiss you. It’s slow and it’s patient; he’s taking his time, and you won’t slip away. You can feel his smile. “You’re mine,” he murmurs when he finally withdraws. One more kiss, lighter, on the tip of your nose. “Just mine.”
Always. You let him pull you into an embrace, snuggling into his warmth like you’ve been wanting to from the moment you last left it. You can hear his heartbeat beneath the lullaby of his breath. “Sy?” you whisper.
“Hmm?”
“You look really hot when you’re pretending to cheat on me.”
He scoffs, but a yawn comes before his response. “Don’t get any ideas, kitten.”
Your quiet is pensive. “I have this lunch with Zayne later this week. I really should text him to find out—”
The grip around you constricts, and a voice is in your ear, soft and possessive:
“What did I just say?”
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leupagus · 7 hours ago
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I've been sitting on this post because I think everyone here is making good points, but I have to say that I (respectfully!) disagree with the core premise that's at the heart of this argument, so I'm not quite sure how to engage without being belligerent. However, I think it's important to at least talk about why I disagree.
It's because, quite frankly, every Trump supporter does, in fact, want this. They want the cruelty; they want the destruction. We may see a handful of Trump supporters who express remorse for voting for him due to his policies hurting them, specifically, but the person that this post is talking about is mythical.
They don't exist; not anymore. We will never, ever get an apology or an admission that they were wrong because none of them will ever think they were wrong. They are no longer reachable and we can't keep pretending they are.
Yes, in 2016 there were a (small) number of people who were taken in by Trump's bombast and their own weird hate-boner for Hillary Clinton. Trump hid a lot of his worst ideas from the public in the lead-up to the 2016 election, plus there were a thousand and five think-pieces back then about how the presidency would bring out Trump's better qualities (looking at you, Maureen Dowd). There was reason to think that a lot of his talk was just talk.
But that's simply not the case now. We had four years of disaster under him, then another four years of Democrats thanklessly cleaning up (and improving the lives of every American in a hundred ways, but nobody believes me about that so I'll set it aside), all the while Trump was continually, constantly, relentlessly talking about what he'd do in his second term. His supporters heard him and liked what he promised — deportations, anti-blackness, transphobia, bigotry, sexism, antisemitism, forcing women back into second-class status, declaring war on everyone to make himself feel good, enriching his friends and himself. Everything Trump's doing now was promised during his campaign.
His voters in 2020 and 2024 were not ignorant, or misinformed, or led astray, or sold a false bill of goods. His voters want to hurt vulnerable people; they will destroy our country to do it and if they claim that this isn't what they wanted, they are lying. They are lying and they are fundamentally untrustworthy.
I don't feel the need to tell them "fuck you, we told you so," but for the rest of my life I will never tell a Trump voter "welcome in." They are not welcome. They have given up that privilege.
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cosmosluckycharms · 1 day ago
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Bug Like Angel
He gets me so high
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ty to that one anon who gave me the idea for this
tecnically this takes place between parts 4 and 5
so i guess this would be part 4.5?
anon ily for givijg me this idea
kind of a short chapter lol
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You got into an argument earlier.
It wasn't over anything serious, you don't even remember what it was about.
All you remember is Damian telling you you weren't worthy of being part of his father's bloodline.
That stung a little.
You tried defending yourself and telling the others in hopes of others taking your side.
Only for everyone to take his.
"He's had a hard life," Dick said to you, still looking at Damian.
"So have I!" went unsaid, as you put your head down and looked at the floor.
It isn't fair!
It isn't fair how he walked away Scott free smirking as if he won!
It isn't fair how you were the only one scolded by Alfred and Bruce for arguing!
It isn't fair how you ran to your room to cry!
It isn't fair how you had no one on your side!
You needed someone on your side.
After a while of sobbing on your pillow (which was now wet), you felt your phone buzz and your ringtone go off. You were getting a call from Hobie.
It wasn't rare for him to call you, all of the spider-kids call each other at random times of the day to just talk about whatever.
One time you called them all at 3 am because you thought of a dumb invention that 'could change lives', only for Gwen to tell you it already existed, and didn't change lives.
One time, Miles called you to tell you he got 100 on his physics test.
One time, Hobie called you because he didn't know how long he should cook something in the microwave.
One time, Peni called you to tell you how she accidentally bought 3 copies of the same book. Again.
One time, Gwen called you at 1 am to ask if you could dye her hair again since her hair dye was fading again.
One time, Pavitr called you to ask which Valentine's gift he should give Gayatri since he was stuck between two options. He ended up choosing both gifts for her.
It was normal for everyone to call anyone for any reason.
You tried to wipe your tears and clear your voice so you could pretend you were fine, and you picked up the phone to talk to him.
As soon as you picked up, he started rambling about how his day went.
You didn't mind calling him, it took your mind off things.
Hobie felt something was off. Sure, you were listening to him intently, but you usually had your camera on and played with stupid filters while he talked. You didn't have your camera on like usual.
He decided to not bring it up and just let you tell him when you were ready.
"Anywho, I bought around 54 boxes of Girl Scout cookies-" Hobie said, while holding up a box of Thin Mints to the camera
"why did you buy 54??" you said in disbelief, your voice slightly cracking, which you cringed at.
"Don't worry about it." you laughed a little at that.
"Keep your window open, I'm on my way." you saw him start walking on camera
"Why?" you asked
"Get ready, we're going out," he said while grabbing 5 boxes of the Girl Scout cookies.
He hung up before explaining anything.
You got up from your bed and decided to fix yourself up a bit before he came over.
You redid your makeup because it smeared while you were crying.
After 5 minutes, you heard a knock on your window.
You went to see what it was, and Hobie was knocking at your window looking a little stupid.
You unlocked it and opened the window.
"I thought you were gonna unlock it?" Hobie said already looking around your room and making himself at home.
He and the others have come over a lot, it's somewhat surprising that none of your family noticed.
"I forgot!" you said while shrugging your shoulders. It wasn't a lie, you did forget.
"You're always forgetting, never remembering," Hobie said, lying on your comfy bed.
"Okay so I forget a couple of times and suddenly I'm always forgetful, I dye Gwen's hair and cut my own, does that make me a barber?" you said, dramatically before flopping onto your bed next to Hobie.
"So, what's got you all miffed?" he asked while playing around with a plushie that was on your bed.
"What do you mean?" you sat up to look at him in confusion.
"Miffed: somewhat annoyed; peeved," Hobie explained.
"No, not about what miffed means, I know what that means, but what do you mean?" you asked, tilting your head slightly.
"I mean, you look pissed, what happened?" he asked, while playing around with a volleyball he got from who knows where.
You started fidgeting with your hands. "Well, me and Damian got into an argument earlier. I don't even remember what it was about. He said I wasn't worthy of Bruce's blood. Which honestly did hurt a little. What really pissed me off was how no one took my side. How no one defended me. How no one checked up on me after I ran to my room and cried." A tear ran down your cheek. You couldn't tell if it was from anger or sadness.
Hobie sat up and cleared the tear away from your cheek. "C'mon Tinkerbell, let's get outta here," He said, while getting up and stretching.
"And go where?" you got up as well.
"Anywhere. It's clear everyone here is bonkers." He started walking towards your window.
"Okay, just gimmie a sec!" You ran to grab your wallet and phone and followed him out the window.
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You were now atop the bat signal, next to Hobie.
After raiding a gas station for its snacks (which you knew Alfred would never approve of) you guys were just sitting down in silence.
It was pretty nice, you were leaning on Hobie as he lit up what you thought was a cigarette.
Turns out it wasn't. You realized as soon as the smell of weed hit you.
You watched as he passed you the blunt, "Want a hit?"
You hesitated for a moment. What would your family think about this?
Hobie saw you hesitating, and not wanting to make you uncomfortable said "Don't do it if you don't want to."
You decided to do it.
Fuck what your family thinks about this.
Fuck your family. Fuck them all. Fuck Damian, fuck Dick, fuck Jason, fuck Bruce, and fuck Alfred.
They didn't care, they didn't defend you, they don't notice you, why would they notice or care about this?
They were probably dressed in their stupid spandex costumes beating people up.
A long time ago you longed and begged to be one of them.
What is the worst that can happen anyway?
"pass me it."
Hobie then taught you how to do it. It was a bit scary for you, you haven't ever smoked or done weed or anything before.
You took a hit and immediately started coughing.
"You alright there, luv?" You gave him a thumbs up before taking a couple more hits and getting a hang of it.
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You guys started devouring the snacks and telling dumb stories.
You fell off due to jumping to the light from the batsignal suddenly turning on and scaring you. You laughed when Hobie had to pick you up from the rooftop.
You could stay like this forever, just you and your big brother.
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hi guys heres some fluff and angst
i feel like since writing these silly little stories my writing has gotten a tiny bit better
im not sure tho
anyways anon ty again i loved writing this
taglist(please lmk if i forgot you!):@bath1lda @mariadvorak @coralaura @tsxukikami @hjgdhghoe @coffeeaddictxd @cxcilla @kaitense1 @star-girl-interlud3 @sukaretto-n @welpthisisboring @itsberrydreemurstuff @lovebug-apple @crazycaoticsimp @bellethesleepypotato @blackhood1229 @jsprien213
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akawifeyy · 3 days ago
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LUST | smau (OB87)
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description: this is a cutesy valentine's day themed fic, starring ob87 and y/n, his author girlfriend! (there are some inaccuracies as to what team ob87 is part of, but we're going to ignore that)
tropes: he falls first and harder, childhood best friends to lovers, author!fem!reader
face claim: millane
trigger warnings: suggestive content, swearing
| note: first fic! this took a while, so i hope you like this ❤️ more on the way soon
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@ yourusername: tis the season of love. happy february!!
tagged: @ olliebearman, @ yourbffusername
comments (109):
@ yourbffusername: stunning as always 💋
-> @ yourusername: all you!
@ olliebearman: Just got yelled at by Fred because I was too distracted looking at your pretty face. Can’t wait to see you soon
-> @ yourusername: counting down the days. miss you so much ☹️
@ user1: she’s sooooo prettyyy
@ user2: Body so tea that even the English are jealous
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@ yourusername: happy v-day... surprise coming later. 8pm est <3
tagged: @ olliebearman
comments (341):
@ user3: here before Ollie. This feels illegal.
-> @ user4: some of us are employed yk.. 🙂‍↕️
@ yourbffusername: so excited mwahaha
-> @ yourusername: i feel so devious
@ olliebearman: They're not ready 🤫
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@ yourusername: surprise surprise! my valentine's themed novella, "lust", will be releasing tonight at midnight est. you can read it at the link in my bio, just in time for my fave holiday of them all!
tagged: @ olliebearman, @ foreternitybooks
comments (488):
@ olliebearman: Love you more than all the chocolates and flowers in the world, darling 😘
-> @ yourusername: love you too 💗
-> @ user5: notice how she didn't say the same for him. Queen behavior 👑 👑
@ foreternitybooks: Congratulations! This book is a banger!
@ user6: Guess who's staying up till 3am...
-> @ user7: i'm going to be taking an exam, i'm SO mad
-> @ user8: Skip it.
-> @ user7: i honestly might.
Text messages between Y/N and Ollie
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@ olliebearman: Eventful week, prepping for the 2025 season. Best part of it all was seeing my girl again 🫶
tagged: @ yourusername, @ ferrari
comments (925):
@ yourusername: sorry that i bring chaos with me 🥹
-> @ olliebearman: What's life without a little bit of madness? Worth it all, a thousand times over.
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@ olliebearmanpriv: Happy Valentine's Day to my amazing, gorgeous, perfect girlfriend, Y/N. I can't believe that the girl who sat in front of me in second year chose me as her lover, and that I get to call her mine. I'm so incredibly proud of her for releasing her newest work, "Lust". Be sure to check it out if you haven't already!
tagged: @ yourusername
comments (112):
@ yourusername: ollieee you're the best 😭
-> @ olliebearmanpriv: Uno reverse, darling.
@ kimi.antonelli: Happy Valentine's Day to the happy couple! Now, when will it be my turn?
-> @ yourbffusername: fr, like get a room 😐 (joke, i swear!)
-> @ yourusername: so supportive of you LOL
-> @ olliebearman: I thought coaches don't play, Kimi?
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@ yourusername: now that "lust" has been out for 48 hours, i have some more secrets to spill... yes, wes brierley is based on ollie. and yes, ollie and i did have a passionate makeout session in the back of the library in sixth year. sorry, ms. lundstrom 😬
tagged: @ olliebearman, @ foreternitybooks
comments (509):
@ user9: Say WHAT 🫨
-> @ user3: I was not expecting to wake up to this news... Ollie, explain yourself!
@ olliebearman: We listen and we don't judge, right?
-> @ yourusername: they're panicking so much, but they don't know anything about the rest of sixth year...
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comments (1714):
@ yourusername: heaven forbid a girl have some fun with her boyfriend 😒
-> @ user10: I'm surprised they haven't PR-trained you yet
-> @ yourusername: i'll never let them.
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@ yourusername: life update! more to come in the "lust" universe. lots of inspo, iykwim 😜
tagged: @ foreternitybooks
comments (178):
@ yourbffusername: GIRLLLL
@ olliebearman: Let everyone know what we were up to in school, hm?
-> @ yourusername: shhh, you said i could. it was my valentine's day gift
-> @ olliebearman: The teddy bear, flowers, chocolate, and dinner was supposed to be your gift. The things I let you do...
-> @ yourusername: you know you love me 🤭
Snippets from "Lust", written by Y/N L/N (2025)
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Text messages between Y/N and Ollie
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─── ୨୧ ─── THE END ─── ୨୧ ───
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theminecraftbee · 10 hours ago
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"You let me think you were dead, you know."
Jimmy winces, but he doesn't turn around to look at Grian, or Cuteguy, or whatever he's going by right now. He considers just walking away. He considers a lot of things, but he doesn't expect he'll be able to, because--
"Don't walk away from me, Jimmy."
When Jimmy turns around, Grian's only half-dressed as Cuteguy, wearing no goggles, the paints he uses to disguise his wings slowly bleeding out, streaks of bold pink and black dripping down otherwise dull brown patterns. Jimmy takes a moment to stare. He's not quite sure which name he's supposed to be calling the man in front of him. On the one hand, he's not wearing the goggles, his dark eyes fully visible to the world. On the other hand, he's still wearing most of the clothes, and there's escrima sticks still hanging from his belt, and while the paint is fading it's still right there, hiding the patterns that make the wings identifiable as Grian.
Jimmy shifts uncomfortably. "I did," he says, finally.
"You let me think you were shot in the head in front of me," Cuteguy says.
"That, uh, did happen," Jimmy says. Cuteguy gestures at Jimmy. Jimmy swallows. "Look, uh, it's not like it was super fun for me to wake up in the morgue either."
"You could have said something!" Cuteguy says. "You could have--you could have just, just rung me up and, and said--"
"Sorry man, it turns out that you getting me killed got undone?" Jimmy says, equally quietly, and Grian reels back in the same way that Jimmy imagines he must have when he was shot, too.
"Timmy," Grian says.
"I mean, I don't actually really blame you that much at this point," Jimmy says. "I don't really--it's not exactly your fault someone else shot us. I'm--I mean, I'm not happy with--you call him Forgery. Not so happy he didn't know that--yeah. But it's still a little... I did die, you know."
"You should have said something," Cuteguy says.
"I'm still kinda dead," Jimmy says.
"Timmy, I--I thought you were dead. I thought I wasn't ever--I'm sorry," Grian says.
"Oh," Jimmy says, because he's not sure what else to say. He both did and didn't expect an apology. It is, after all, Grian; it is, after all, Grian.
"I'm sorry, I'm--I was just, just yelling at you again because I was scared, because, because you're one of my best friends, and, and you were dead, Timmy. You were dead."
Jimmy's not sure what to say, or which of the person in front of him said that. He's fairly certain it's Grian. He's also fairly certain the world is grey and blurry again, and he has to take deep breaths, digging his fingers into his palms and trying very hard to remember that it's not really Cuteguy's fault, or even really Forgery's; until then, neither of them had understood how dangerous it was, either.
But it's not them that faced the consequences, is it?
Joel says it's fair to be angry. It's fair to blame them. Jimmy doesn't know that it is.
"I was dead," agrees Jimmy.
"Not going to say anything else?" Grian asks.
"No," Jimmy says.
Grian stares, and then it is most certainly Cuteguy who pulls himself together, shakes his wings until his feathers are straighter, and puts on a face that betrays nothing of the heartbreak or confusion or hurt he's feeling. Jimmy does, absolutely, hate it.
"Actually, I just wish... I don't know, man. Never mind," Jimmy says.
(He hates the way he doesn't recognize his own best friend some days nearly as much as he hates the way he doesn't recognize himself.)
Cuteguy stares for a long moment.
"Yeah, me too," he says. "Do... do you wanna come get sushi at that one weird place you like? Where you have the weird rivalry with that one server?"
"He insists salmon is the best sushi fish, and is absolutely wrong," Jimmy says primly, and then he nods, and even Cuteguy can't help but betray his relief.
They walk side-by-side, together. It doesn't really matter who they are now.
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holyguardian · 1 day ago
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The thought made Aerith hum. She would have to ask Somnus about that later — he had moved here, and he trained with other soldiers, he spoke of military life like it were a comfort for him in a way because of the routine and camaraderie.
Surely that meant some men would move with him, no? Lucis would not abandon their crown Prince in a new land without familiar faces of men who fought alongside him. But that didn't seem like a question for now. Timing was important, she thought.
And if she had sprung such serious questions on him, she would have never witnessed him cornering one of their hard-working cooks!
Both hands held up in the air briefly, surprised, the cook assumed that the gesture might turn on them. That the finely dressed young man was having a laugh. He blinked and slowly accepted the offered hand in a matter-of-fact kind of handshake.
"Cid. Just Cid. I reckon a name like that, you're the one being welcomed tonight." The cook spoke freely — well, as freely as one dared, in the reaches of royalty that could have him out of a job in moments if he offended them.
"Leave room for the third course, would ya? Half the kitchen has been eyeing the rhubarb and custard tart like hungry wolves and it's a crying shame to see you lot fill up on bread." he commented, tossing a pointed look to the Princess.
Aerith merely beamed a sweet smile. She couldn't deny it, whenever they crafted fresh baked breads with herbs or seeds she couldn't stop pecking away. "I'm told the real crying shame would be to use your monster pumpkin on anything but soup."
Cid exhaled the kind of scoff that suggested he already heard it all. The siblings were like a couple of baby chocobos some days, peep peeping through the kitchen full of hunger.
It felt more like… a home on one of the big farms out there. Cozy. Warm. And apparently the family held itself to similar standards. Eating what the soldiers would eat. Somnus would not have to worry about his troops’ well-being it seemed. They would have a feast this evening. And their Chocobos, too.
“Oh, Lucis will never get these soldiers back, I fear. They will want to stay here when they realize you always spoil them like this.”
An amusing thought but one that Somnus could see coming true. The farmlands did not hold back on their dishes. For a moment Somnus almost asked whether he could have that, too. But that would be rude… but if their meal was even more special… what in Bahamut’s name could it be?
Though that pumpkin was… Roran definitely had not overestimated its size. At first Somnus wanted to doubt that it even was real. How could a pumpkin grow this big and not fall victim to pests? It even looked far too perfect!
“… I am looking forward to the farmlands’ prince having a small tantrum about pumpkins and their supposedly perfect dishes.”, Somnus grinned at this, though they were not the only ones amusing themselves.
Of course two young royals showing up here did not go unnoticed, even when the kitchens were as busy as a beehive. A few of the younger cooks and maids threw stolen looks towards the pair and there were whispers and giggles.
Somnus caught notice of that once and immediately wanted to flee – but… she had told him to act natural, right? Friendly. Greet them? Learn their names…
So why not try it? Maybe Aerith had not meant for Somnus to scare the first poor cook half to death when he just steppe dup to them, holding out a hand. Maybe coming on a little too strong.  
“Good evening – I am Somnus Lucis Caelum. How is your name?”
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jikooklove9795 · 2 days ago
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The MMA 2018 seating arrangement switch is one of those moments that perfectly encapsulates why so many people (including those who are reluctant to see them in a romantic light) find Jungkook and Jimin's dynamic fascinating. Its not just about the visual contrast in Jungkook's expressions but what it suggests about his comfort level and emotional state when Jimin is near.
We also got to see this on this same night:
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The way he glares at them 🤭
Let's get back to the topic.
Before Jimin sits next to Jungkook, he looks composed but somewhat serious or detached. Almost like he's passively existing in the moment. He's physically present but not necessaring expressive.
After Jimin sits next to Jungkook his whole demeanor changes instantly. His posture becomes more relaxed, his facial expressions become livelier and there's an unmissable light in his eyes. Its like a silent but obvious Oh, you're here! moment.
This is more fascinating and interesting because it is a natural, unconscious reaction. The fact that his expression changes so naturally and effortlessly suggests that Jimin genuinely affects his mood.
We all have people who make us feel instantly at ease. The way Jungkook responds to Jimin's presence is so automatic that it feels deeply ingrained. It suggests that Jimin is a personal source of comfort for him. Jimin brings out a side of Jungkook that is warm, free and full of joy.
Sometimes the strongest bonds don't need words. The way his body language adjusts and how his face softens says a lot. Its in the subtle details that you see the real connection.
This isn't an isolated incident. There have been multiple instances where Jungkook's mood or energy seems to brighten around Jimin.
Here's a few instances which shows how Jimin's presence and absence affects Jungkook:
1) Jungkook's "Jimin is here" and "You're here. Finally" when finally they got the opportunity to spend extended time together (I'm sure they spent time together before AYS but that time was too short due to their demanding schedules)
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His bright face and excited smile. He was so happy to spend time with Jimin after all those stunts he pulled on his lives to get Jimin to come to him
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2) Jungkook not knowing what to do when Jimin goes to bath in AYS Jeju
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3) Jungkook not even wanting to talk about ms when it was uncertain if their request for companion program be will be approved and then there's the same Jungkook talking about their ms in AYS Jeju once their application was approved:
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4) Jungkook's words here:
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Why would he say this?
Surely he's been on many trips. Even in 2023 apart from those trips for AYS with Jimin he went on other trips with his friends. So why would he say the trips for AYS were the best?
Because it was with Jimin. That's what made it the best experience for him. Traveling and exploring with his bf.
Its for this same reason we get to see a shift in Jungkook's demeanor after the seat switch in MMA 2018.
Jungkook is naturally close with all the BTS members and he has many other friendships outside of BTS but there's no denying there's something unique and deep about the way he interacts with Jimin.
We have seen how even in group settings Jungkook often ends up near Jimin. Whether its at award shows, interviews or casual moments he naturally gravitates to Jimin.
Jungkook is affectionate with all the members but his level of touchiness and physical comfort with Jimin is distinct. He often leans on Jimin, seeks out hugs or casual touches. He is protective around Jimin, loves to cook for him and doesn't hesitate to show his emotions openly when they're together.
If it weren't for Jimin I don't think we would have gotten to see Jungkook's naturally uninhibited, warm, affectionate and romantic side.
Credits to the owner of the video
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weirdmarioenemies · 11 hours ago
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Name: Brolder
Debut: Super Mario 3D World
This is Brolder. What is it brolder than? I don't know, to be honest. But to make it up to Brolder, I made its name up there bolder than usual. I hope it likes it!
Brolder is one of those hexagonal-scale-patterned boulders that I'm not completely sure exist. I've only seen them in videos the game. Do they exist? If so, please tell me! I'm being lowered into a vat of acid and my kooky captor will only let me go if I get this question right!
But honestly, I don't really care. I keep finding myself lost in Brolder's beautiful eyes! They are just like the 👀 eyes emoji. Just like the emoji, Brolder's eyes convey that it is Lookin', and it is Lookin' over that way. Such wide-eyed innocence... or, I guess, tall-eyed innocence! A lot of extra distance for its eyelids to cover with each blink. Put your Pokewalker on a Brolder's eyelid! Gaming Tip!
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But enough about eyes. Brolder is a spherical boulder, and that means it rolls! And actually I take it back! More about the eyes! That poor thing is going to roll right over its own eyes. Yeowch! Ok, now you can spray me with water if I mention the eyes again. But don't worry. I am not done discussing Brolder's moist biological functions.
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Look at this guy on the map screen. Bro thinks he's a location. Well, he is, because he is a Blockade level! Sadly classified as World 4-A rather than World 4-Brolder, but ah well. No one actually cares that much about that. Not even me! I'm ok with it. I'm reasonable.
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When jumped upon, Brolders retract their eyes and limbs, but look at that above it... sweat! These rocks can sweat! Awesome? I think Brolders travel outside of the volcanic regions to drink water, just so they can sweat it out when picked up, in hopes that their captor will go "eww" and drop them.
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Perhaps my favorite part of Brolder, however, are its arms! Its very yellow arms. QUITE a bit like SpongeBob arms! That's probably why I once saw a Miiverse post of the Brolder stamp edited to have Spunch features. As you can see, I never forgot that post! The arms also remind me very much of plastic toy parts, as if they would have a peg to stick into a hole on Brolder's side. Wouldn't it make sense for the arms to be made of lava or something? That would probably go so hard.
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And what do you know! Boss Brolder, the boss of the Brolders, the broldest of them all, has lava arms! And it indeed goes hard. His whole design goes hard, really! His fiery glowing eyes, his shining rock shell, his CRYSTALS... what brold fashion choices! He looks really genuinely cool, and that makes it even funnier to see the regular Brolders in front of him. His goofy bodyguards who get thrown at his face to defeat him. But he keeps them around, because he cares. He has a warm heart, but don't touch it, because it's made of magma! Much safer to touch someone's flesh heart instead, but be sure to always ask first!
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jiexclusive1 · 1 day ago
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𝜗𝜚⋆ bj- p.jisung
warnings- rough oral sex (male rec.), choking, hair pulling, degradation. slapping (not a lot), hand restraint, slight cum eating, jisung is mean, dacryphilia.
Mdni!
W/c- 2k
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You and Jisung were seen to be the cutest couple out of the friend group.
You both had a fight earlier that day, but when boys had invited you both over because Mark was having trouble with his girlfriend and needed a group meeting to figure everything out. Jisung thought it would be a good idea to put a pause on the situation.
You two shared so many cute moments together, acting extra clingy in front of all your friends, so it was weird to see you both on the opposite ends of the room acting cold towards each other. For instance, every time Jisung would say something, you would interrupt with a passive aggressive, back handed comment.
"Maybe it's just a misunderstanding?" Jisung told mark.
"You do love that word." You responded under your breath, just enough for everyone to hear it.
He ignored it the first time.
"Come on, we're all mature adults here." He spoke up, responding to something Mark had said.
"Debatable." You coughed out.
He turned to you, giving you a warning glance as you lowered your head, clearing your throat.
Jisung responded once more to Mark: "I don't think you two meant to upset each other."
You cleared your throat. "Intentions don't erase consequences, but sure." You said.
Mark and Jisung both looked at you at the same time.
"Yeah, you're right Y/n." Mark spoke, nodding in agreement.
You took the opportunity to make a small face at Jisung, titling your head at him slightly, a small detail he would've missed if he wasn't looking at you so intently.
Mark noticed as well, looking between the both of you. "Are you two ok?" He piped up and asked.
"Yeah we're good. I think we're all just overthinking some things." Jisung responded.
"Some of us more than others." You said lowly, prompting Jisung to turn to you, inching closer with a dark look on his face.
"Listen, you guys can leave if you need to." Mark spoke up.
"No, we're good." Jisung said.
"No actually, I think we should head out." You responded, looking up at him as he stood in front of you.
"Well, I'm not ready to go." Jisung said, looking directly at you, his eyes full of pure darkness.
"Well, then you can find a ride home." You responded, standing up in front of him.
"If you walk out, you're going to regret it later." Jisung spoke harshly, his voice barely above a whisper, only for you to hear.
"Bite me." You whispered, a sly smirk painting your face as you walked past him.
"I'm gonna head out guys, I hope you get everything figured out Mark. Jisung's staying so you'll have his... wise words." You said, glancing back at him.
His face was full of anger as he looked at you, but then, a small smirk appeared on his face as he nodded.
"I'll see you at home." He said, inching closer to you once more, pulling you into a tight hug, his grip on your waist rough.
"See you." You responded, before turning away and walking out.
It was about an hour later, and you were in the bedroom. You heard the front door rattling, then the noise of it slamming, followed up by:
"Y/n, where the fuck are you."
You looked up from your phone, standing up as his heavy footsteps reached the bedroom door. He swung it open, his face painted with a dark expression, knuckles red as if he'd been clutching something tightly.
He didn't pause. He was on you in seconds, crossing the room, his cold hand wrapping around your throat before you could think to move.
You stumbled back, spine hitting the wall with a dull thud, a soft gasp slipping from your lips as his fingers flexed against your skin.
"Do you like making me mad?" He said, his thumb brushing along the delicate skin of your throat.
You didn't answer, just looked at him with glossy eyes, which just made him angrier.
"What, you can't speak now? You had so much to say earlier in front of everyone, now you can't speak?" His grip tightened, just enough to remind you that he could take it away if he wanted to.
Your lips trembled, but you still didn't speak, glossy eyes locked onto his.
His patience snapped..
"Y/n, you're seriously pissing me off." He said, removing his hand from your throat.
"Get on your knees, and I'm not going to ask you again." He spoke, backing away from the wall and examining your movements.
You hesitated for only a second before you obeyed, lowering yourself onto the carpet. The rough fabric rubbed into your bare knees, the friction stinging slightly, but you ignored it, keeping your gaze on him.
"Since you want to use your fucking mouth so much." He murmured to himself, looking to the side, before his gaze fixated on you again.
"What the fuck are you waiting for?" His voice was low and impatient
You got the hint. Hands trembling slightly, you reached for the buttons of his jeans, fingers grazing the cool metal as you began to unfasten them, but before you could, his hands shot out, gripping both of your wrists in a firm hold.
A startled breath escaped you as he yanked them together, lifting them slightly into the air, keeping you trapped in place.
He tilted his head, amusement in his gaze as he studied your reaction.
"You like to run your mouth so much. So use it, take them off." He replied, looking at you with a sly smirk.
"Ji—" You barely managed to whisper his name before he cut you off.
"I'm not going to tell you again." His grip on your wrists tightened just enough to make his point, his smirk deepening.
You leaned in, gripping the edge of the fabric between your teeth, tugging firmly. Your tongue pressed against the button, working it free from the hole with a slow motion.
You ran your tongue along the top of the zipper, trailing downward. The fabric of his underwear brushed against your tongue as you moved, heat radiating through the material as you licked over his clothed bulge.
"Pull them down with your teeth, I want to see it." He said, watching you intently.
You bit into the edge of the jeans, moving your head slowly to pull them down. Your hands stretched above your head as his grip tightened on your wrist. You looked up at him, silently awaiting his next command.
"What, are you stupid?" His voice was sharp. "Pull my underwear down."
"Ji, can I please use my hands?" You asked, your voice soft, almost pleading.
"No." He replied quickly. "Now shut up and pull them down."
You teased along the waistband of his underwear with your tongue, catching the fabric gently between your teeth before tugging it down.
"You know what to do." He said, his voice low.
You moved your head, licking a slow line from his base to his tip, drawing a sharp exhale from him.
"Stop teasing." He warned, his grip tightening around your wrist, the pressure causing a hint of discomfort.
You obeyed instantly, wrapping your lips around his sensitive tip, cheeks hollowing as his breathing grew heavier.
You lowered your head along his dick, taking him deeper as his breath hitched, a heavy exhale slipping past his lips. His eyes darkened, focused intently on the way your lips stretched and glistened around him.
"Is that the best you can do without your hands? Pathetic." He murmured with a taunting sigh. Before you had time to react, he bucked his hips unexpectedly, pushing himself deeper. The sudden motion caught you off guard, forcing you to pull back with a choked gasp, coughing as you struggled to catch your breath.
"Look at you, choking already, and I barely put it in. Such a useless slut." He groaned, his voice rough.
You lifted your gaze defiantly. "You just caught me off guard." You shot back, though the instant the words left your mouth, regret settled.
His expression darkened, lips curling into a smirk. "Oh yeah?" He challenged, tugging your arms upward, making your shoulders strain slightly from the sudden pressure.
Before you could respond, his free hand gripped your face, fingers pressing firmly into your cheeks, forcing your lips to pucker.
"Then do it correctly, or I'll do it for you." He scoffed.
You took him back into your mouth, moving roughly. It was definitely harder without using your hands, but you managed to maintain your rhythm. That is, until Jisung shifted forward again, his hips thrusting deeply into your mouth, catching you off guard.
You jolted back, gasping for breath, your chest rising and falling as you tried to regain composure. His sharp gaze pierced through you, a flicker of disdain in his eyes.
"You're so fucking annoying." He spoke, the words laced with contempt.
Before you had a chance to react, he released your wrists, only for his hands to swiftly find the back of your head. His grip was firm as he pushed you back down.
Your eyes widened in surprise from the sudden contact, your breath catching in your throat. The way he hit the back of your throat so quickly left you breathless, the intensity making your hands instinctively grasp at his thighs for support.
A wave of heat spread through you, and you struggled to adjust to the overwhelming sensation, your body reacting before your mind could catch up. The pressure built, and you could feel the pulse in his muscles beneath your fingers as you held on, desperately trying to steady yourself.
Fuck like that." He groaned, his fingers gripping your hair tighter, pulling you in closer as he thrust into your mouth with increasing force. His breath hitched as his control slipped away, each movement more urgent than the last.
Hot tears streamed down your cheeks as you struggled to keep up with each harsh thrust. The sensation of him filling your mouth made you gag, the sounds muffled as you desperately tried to breathe. Drool leaked from the corners of your lips, dripping down your chin.
"Fuck, tighten the back of your throat Y/n." He groaned through gritted teeth, his voice thick with lust. His grip on your hair tightened painfully, fingers digging into your scalp as he yanked you forward, forcing you to take him deeper with each rough pull.
You blinked rapidly, your eyes stinging as your eye makeup blurred from your tears, streaking down your face. Jisung didn't care, in fact, it only turned him on more. His pleasure growing with every sign of your discomfort.
"Such a whore." He panted, his voice rough and breathless as his tip collided with the back of your throat.
You moaned as his dick filled your mouth, the mix of pain and pleasure overwhelming you in a way that turned you on more than you were willing to admit.
“Bet this turns you on, doesn't it? Being used like this. Like a little slut.” He taunted, his voice low.
You squeezed your thighs together, trying to hold onto control, but the louder and more intense the sounds of him hitting your throat became, the harder it was.
“This dirty little fucking mouth.” He groaned, his breath heavy with desire. “Gonna fill it up with all my cum.” He whimpered out, head falling back in pleasure as the intensity of it all hit him.
With a few more rough thrusts, you felt him twitch deep at the back of your throat. A loud cry escaped him, his body tensing as he reached his high. Moments later, you felt his warm liquid in your mouth.
He slowly withdrew from your mouth, a trail of his cum dripping down your chin.
He paused for a moment, staring at you with a look of satisfaction in his eyes, before raising his hand to give your cheek two soft slaps. Without another word, he pulled up his pants and underwear, his eyes lingering on you for a brief second before he turned and walked out of the room.
Left alone, you were still kneeling on the floor, your throat sore, your head throbbing, and your hair tangled.
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winterzsurprise · 3 days ago
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Change My Mind [7]
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Pairing: BTS x reader
SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.
Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.
Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor
Words: 8.6k
IM BACK
laptop problem is solved. Shit was shady though (i literally have to pay the guy money for his 'efforts' in lying to get my laptop fixed) but its worth the money so idc. Rushed to finish this so this shit ain't beta read nor proofed, that's for Vuinterro of tomorrow to stress about. Will still take long to post chapters, might take a month per chapter. It really depends since I'm using this fic to fix my horrid writer's block and brain fog but I plan to see this fic through so dwww
also, what do you all think about having purely the boys' pov at some point in the story? Been thinking about having the boys' perspectives once the courting starts but that's prolly just me
lastly, enjoy this chapter. I hope my tired mind was able to write my vision down clearly, I'll fix the mistakes and add more details later on. Pls comment or like, I'm in desperate need for validation lmao
<<Prev || Masterlist || Next>>
______
Jung Hoseok is not scared.
Sure he screams bloody mary at the sight of bugs a thousand times smaller than him, and yeah he’s easily startled but he’s not scared.
Especially not by a piece of paper, that would be ridiculous!
The reason he went to his noona’s house instead of heading straight to the dorms after the news broke out that his Seokjin hyung is tethered to you is because she needed his help on something, and being the dutiful brother he is, swooped in to save the day!
“At least wash the dishes for me if you’re going to hide in my house because you’re being a scaredy cat,” Jiwoo says from the kitchen archway, leaning on the wall with her arms crossed. “I still don’t get why you’re so scared of a piece of paper. The most it’ll do is give you a small cut.”
“Well, that ‘small cut’ still stings a lot!” He argued back, pulling the throw pillow closer to his chest. “And I’m not scared!”
It was irrational how he’s getting cold feet at the thought of the blood result. It’s not like he was hoping to see anything other than ‘negative’ there. 
Jimin would argue that he’s being pessimistic for thinking so but it was the obvious answer if you looked at his family tree. 
From his grandparents’ parents and down to him and his sister, there hasn’t been a single tethered from his bloodline like most of the world’s population. Unlike his Jin hyung who at least had one distant cousin who got a soulmate or his Yoongi hyung who at least had his grandparents as soulmates, his family was barren from such a blessing. His grandpa had joked once, saying their family was cursed for never birthing a single tethered. Ever.
Not even with the people they ended up had ever resulted in having a tethered no matter their family background..
For him to turn out to be a part of your nexus would be a miracle of the highest degree that would make the tales in the bible pale in comparison.
Daring to have himself tested is stupid, he already knew the result and submitting his DNA meant he was hoping.
But hope is nothing in the face of facts, he should be wishing instead; prayer sticks, shaman blessings and all that.
Hoseok knew he was being greedy, wishing to be a part of a nexus relationship as crowded as yours. Growing up with the rest, he knew how much of a handful Jungkook can be on his own, matched with Jimin who now possesses bottomless energy, he has no business trying to squeeze himself in places he can’t fit in. 
Sometimes he thinks he’s being influenced by the fact that he’s being singled out in the group. Now that their oldest has joined the harem, being the odd one out oddly felt ostracizing, being subjected to Taehyung and Jungkook discussing courting gifts, and Yoongi talking to Namjoon about their soulmarks shouldn’t have made him feel bitter but it did. 
“You saying that while pouting on my couch, miles away from your friends who now have your exam result, is not helping your case.”
“If you don’t have anything nice to say to your brother, you shouldn’t have said anything.”
“I’m saying a lot because I care about you. This,” She says, motioning to him to which he replied with an offended look. “Isn’t healthy. The more you’re hiding away, the more this will haunt you.”
“You’re just saying that because you’ll have hyung over soon.”
“That I am, so just get your shit together and go! I planned a night for us but I had to move it because of you.” She shot back but he knew it had no actual snark behind it. She had welcomed him with warm arms after all.
Hoseok had seen how his friends slowly fell in love with you while he continued to look at you and see a best friend. Seeing how everyone seems to have been captured by you, he got curious.
For a long time since debut, Hoseok had stopped perfecting his craft and pursuing his aspirations to pay attention to someone else. It was uncommon but he too once wished for a soulmate until practice, video shoots, and music production began to eat up most of his time and he forgot about his initial wish.
Seeing his brothers be taken by their best friend, his crush, he couldn't help but be curious how it came to be.
Was it because you were closer to their age and, for the lack of better terms, accessible to them that they had begun to seek the comfort of a lover in you?
“Do you think because she's also been busy with us that she began to seek comfort with us too?”
“Tae, just eat your breakfast.”
It was such a random thought from Tae one random morning, and Hoseok would’ve brushed it off like the other time he gets struck with an idea but this one stuck to him like an annoying ex. The idea loomed over him the whole journey to the company and back home. He grew hypersensitive to how he approached you since that morning and he began to notice the miniscule details he would’ve shrugged off any other day. 
From how your touches would linger on their skin, how you’d comfortably lean in closer to them without batting a single eye at how unusual it may seem to others, he took note of them all. It was how he knew their leader’s feelings for you, even if the man himself hadn't noticed it yet. 
Hoseok found his proof in Namjoon’s eyes that restlessly roamed the room until he’d find you in the bustle of the staff. It was also in the way he’d always reach out for you, may it be when you’d turn to leave and he’d catch a drama-esque scene where instead of calling out for your name, Namjoon would reach for your hand and speak to you with that soft look in his eyes and the genuineness in the dip of his dimples when he smiles.
Eyes never lie nor do the dimples on his cheeks whenever he grins, even when the beholder hasn’t realized it yet.
It was then did he realise how odd your relationship is with them and decided to take a step back to draw a line. 
Friends, especially ones whose gender are opposite of each other, aren’t supposed to be as touchy and comfortable the way you and his brothers are. You didn’t say anything when you noticed and wordlessly respected his decision. He was firm on drawing the line, his sister had questioned his actions but he’s determined, nothing is going to stop him from going back on his decision.
At least until he got sick.
Without any of his brothers available to tend to him as they had to leave for Japan the very day he fainted—he had to pass out while talking to the migration officer, so embarrassing!—, he thought he'd power through it alone for a few days. But then you volunteered to stay back to take care of him and everyone just let it happen as if it's normal.
Which is not.
He'd understand taking care of him during the job but to take a leave of absence just to watch over him because his family is unavailable due to the rough weather at the time, in a house far too big for the two of you while the rest flies to another country. It wasn’t appropriate, not normal at all. 
In the haze of his high fever, he had asked you how you were acting as if the situation was normal and in response, you had hit him lightly with the drenched towel you used to wipe his face.
“Don't be ridiculous. You're one of my best friends even if you’ve been acting up these past few days. I'm not about to leave while you're sick and alone in the dorms. If your family could come to Seoul, I would've left with the others so don't overthink. This is just me being a good friend.”
Cooking for him, wiping his face and making sure he's comfortable in bed—It felt far too domestic to be friendly. 
Familial doesn't sound like the right word either. There’s nothing familial about the butterflies in his stomach when you had kissed his forehead good night that day as a joke when Jimin had called you or when you had woken him up the next day.
Oh how beautiful you were that morning.
He knew at that moment that the goddess of beauty had favorites when she made your skin glow softly under the radiance of the rising morning sun like a halo and had your messy bed hair look frustratingly good on you. 
You were borrowing their clothes that day since you had already got your items shipped with the other staff, Taehyung’s white striped polo hung off on you like a dress and Jimin’s red basketball shorts gobbled up your form yet even with the fabrics dwarfing and hiding the curves of your body, he still thinks you’re the cutest sight he has ever had the pleasure of seeing.
You were especially cute in their clothes though.
In his feverish haze, all he could think about was how pleasant it’d be if you were to wake him up every morning like an angel welcoming him to heaven. What he’d give to the world to have you be the first thing he’d see in the morning.
Then you spoke and greeted him in that roughened sweet voice and Hoseok was gone.
Realization immediately had him freezing, tensing up as you let yourself fall across his blanket covered feet to groan about how sleepy you still are after putting down his medicine and breakfast on the bedside table. He hadn’t been able to reply, busy with tampering down the racing heartbeat echoing in his ears. 
Looking back a year later, him falling in love with you wasn’t as odd as he thinks it is, uncommon but still cliche. 
Jiwoo taking the space next to him made him jump, breaking off his line of thought.
“Seriously, just get it over with. The faster you see the result, the faster you can decide whether to move on or not.”
It was the most logical step to take but it felt…wrong somehow. 
He couldn’t imagine a day where he’d look at you and never feel the tickles of butterflies filling his stomach or the warmth your fingers would leave behind after carding through his hair or tilting his chin up to have a better look on his makeup. It felt like an offense to the fates.
Although loving you has its downsides, with your obliviousness to their feelings whether intentional or unintentional often makes him want to pull his hair out, he’d never regret feeling the joy of admiring someone when he’s with you. Hoseok has never felt more motivated to produce music with lyrics far too romantic to come from someone who has never had a lover since pre-debut. Not that you’d see that of course.
He couldn’t remember how many times he found himself wanting to grab you by the shoulders to shake you whenever you teased him about his creations, and hoped it would be enough to let you know that all those cheesy lyrics he had uncharacteristically puked out was all because of you.
“Don’t you go souring your face like that, you know that I’m right.”
“And just because you sound right, doesn’t mean I’m gonna listen to you.”
Jiwoo rolled her eyes and turned to her kitchen, probably to take a pan and hit him upside the head with it or to save herself from seeing the pathetic image of her brother being a fool for love. 
He knew not to hope, he repeated those words to himself but at the same time, he could sense the small, miniscule bead of it hidden within his heart, pushed down to the bottom of the barrel and awaiting its eventual death once he set his eyes on the negative results on his test.
In all of the times he got scared, Jung Hoseok has never been so terrified at the thought of being left out of your nexus. It would be the highest form of torture, a cruelest fate the heavens have dealt. 
How would he function seeing all his brothers do all the things he had imagined himself doing? Due to how sensitive the bond is, he wouldn’t be able to get a feel of your touch for a year, maybe two if the gods deemed it funnier.
What is he going to do then? Die from envy?
He wouldn’t be able to survive, it would ruin him completely. That parasitic feeling would eat him up from the inside and eventually spill out of him, it would damage the relationship he and his brothers had established through hardships and time. Something he too treasured as he does you.
A chime rang out and his eyes immediately fell to his phone on the coffee table. From the familiar set of emojis on the name of the messenger, he reached over to answer to his Yoongi hyung.
           [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: i know what you’re doing            [18:23] Me: i don’t know what i’m even doing right now hyung            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: you may fool the others but im not like them            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: jiwoo had already asked me last week about this problem ur supposed to be fixing so dont even try to lie to me            [18:23] Me: im just worried            [18:23] Me: you know about my family history right? We never had a single tethered so idk what even possessed me to take that test with jin hyung when we already know the answer            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: i think you’ll be surprised            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: not that i’m spoiling or anything, im just saying that if jesus could turn water into rum, then you can be the first tethered in your family            [18:23] Me: well im not a son of god am i?            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: don’t get sassy with me            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: im just saying, miracles can happen            [18:23] Me: i think i already lucked out with our jobs hyung            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: i doubt that            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: come home tomorrow            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: the maknaes are planning a party for you            [18:23] Me: LOLOLOL WHAT            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: they even bought two different cakes            [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: wont spoil what they say             [18:23] MinSyuga🐱: come home if you want know            [18:23] Me: i will 
Despite telling his hyung that he’ll return, he wasn’t sure if he’s going through that decision just yet.
“Did you at least bring a change of clothes with you?” Jiwoo chimes, reappearing from the kitchen archway.
“What if I don’t have any?”
“Then you’re sleeping in those.”
Despite her words, she eventually pulls out a pair of pajamas from her boyfriend’s temporary side of the closet for him to borrow. Sleeping that night was far from being an easy task when he could read and see from the images the maknaes are spamming the group chat, photos ranging from decent captures of moments to a blurry mess where the one holding the phone is running away from a figure that distinctly look like Jimin.
He tried to ignore the nagging feeling at the back of his head and the way his stomach seems to shrunk and eat itself up with every picture and video he sees. He truly does try to ignore the voice judging him for daring to squeeze himself in an already perfect dynamic.
Eventually though, the voices quieten and he falls asleep.
______
Jimin is falling in love with his soulmate. 
It shouldn’t come as a shock to anyone but he's actually falling in love with his soulmate. Tingling butterflies in his stomach, skipping heartbeat, tickling warmth in the chest, the whole mile.
What started off as playful admiration where he’d tease you and lightly tug or pull your hair up while you were putting setting powder on his under eye, quickly developed into a giggly high school romance kind of love where he’d avoid your eyes just so his stomach would stop feeling weird and feel the heat of your touch linger from where you last held him.
Now that he’s thinking about it, the whole thing sounds silly because of course he’s going to fall in love with his soulmate.
The morning started as most mornings have begun for him since Jungkook’s birthday, with your face, bare and naked of any products, and the warmth of your body seeping through the fabric of his clothes. More often than not, he’d find himself coming to consciousness feeling your body weight pressing on his arms or your breath ghosting against his throat and he'd just freeze. 
 Every time it happens, electric shocks would run down his skin and he’d be taking a quick trip to the bathroom to calm his racing heart.
It was insane how often he had to lean over the ceramic sink so early in the morning, breathing heavily to try and ground himself before he reenters the room and sneaks back into his bed, but strictly keeping himself on his side of the pillow fort while careful to take your hand in his once again without waking you up. 
But today, he found himself wishing for time to stop just so he could stare at your face at this very moment.
With the light sheen of the light filtered through the curtains bouncing on one side of your skin giving you an ethereal appearance, he found himself at a loss for words at the beauty presented before him. His eyes traced the lines of the long lashes kissing the apple of your cheeks, the slope of your nose, and down to the plush of your lips. 
Jimin has lost count on how many times he has wondered about how it’d felt pressing against his.
In the peaceful silence of the early mornings, all he did was stare and wait for time to pass while wishing internally for the world to slow just so he could soak in the peace the morning brought.
Eventually though, he had to steer his attention elsewhere. Jimin rolls to the other end to reach for his phone on the bedside table.
He’s been scrolling on his phone for a couple of minutes, lurking in the fandom space—both international and local—when the door creaks open and Taehyung steps in with sleep-lidden eyes and body heavy with lethargy. Forgoing to close the door of their room, he trudged towards the bed like an overworked employee before promptly falling face first to the spot between you and him. He churned in the small space, making himself comfortable by throwing an arm around your blanket-covered form.
For a long while, the only sound in the room came from the occasional videos he plays.
It was weird. Having a soulmate who has multiple soulmates is weird.
He should be feeling disturbed seeing someone cuddle up to his soulmate but he wasn’t. Jimin, contrary to popular belief, is possessive, probably more than Jungkook was in his younger age. Although it wasn’t to the point of killing like people like to showcase in films these days, possessiveness for him is as tame as snaking arms around waists and narrowed eyes. 
Maybe there’s a bit of pulling them aside for a quick reminder in the middle of an event but the point is, he’s possessive. 
But he couldn’t find a single cell in his body who was bothered by the presence of someone else in the room. 
This soulmate thing is weird.
When he laughed at a post, Taehyung dragged himself up to shoulder level just to see what he was laughing at before giggling himself. Suddenly, you push yourself up and turn to them with squinted eyes.
“Good morning, noona.”
“Tae? What are you doing here?”
“Oh, Seokjin hyung sent me up here to wake you both up—”
“It’s still too early!” she groaned, stretching her arms above her head. “I’m not built for working this early!” 
“— he said if you don’t go down before seven, he’ll eat the can of smelly fish you bought for him in Sweden as a joke.”
You paused, the threat successfully shutting you up before you let out an exaggerated groan and dramatically burying yourself back into the pillow.
“Can’t a girl rest? I have a bad headache, and I don’t even know if the beating is Namjoon’s or mine.”
It’s easy to forget how there’s six different soulmarks affecting her all at the same time. From how she’d hear their leader’s heartbeat no matter how far, to the altered taste due to his Seokjin hyung’s mark, and to his Healing Touch. He couldn’t even fathom how much of a nightmare it is sensing everyone.
They eventually dragged themselves down to the dining room after a quick bathroom break. Jin had immediately greeted them with heaps upon heaps of pancakes with maple syrup drooling over the side and scrambled eggs on the table. 
Yoongi and Namjoon were already nursing their cups of coffee on the table—with Joon hyung taking his rightful spot on one end of the table as the leader, Seokjin hyung taking the seat on the opposite side, and Yoongi next to their leader—Seokjin was occupied with his food when they arrived, one scrolling on his phone while the other crazily scribbled on his journal.
“You didn’t even try to at least cook me waffles, hyung. I’m hurt!” He exclaimed and the man rolled his eyes.
“In another life, if you were my soulmate, maybe I would’ve considered it.” Jin then flashed a smile at you before skipping back to the kitchen.
Jimin couldn’t help but notice how you shifted uncomfortably on your seat at the noticeably more generous portion on your plate and he switched his plate with yours, immediately shoving one into his mouth before his hyung returned. An action noticed by everyone in the room.
“Jimin,” Yoongi called out, voice gentle as a whisper. “Give me one.” 
He followed, standing up to bring his plate closer to his hyung and passing it over, adding the eggs into the equation when Yoongi motioned him to add it. Seokjin returns when Jungkook has trudged out of his room and taking the empty space next to Taehyung.
Jungkook immediately noticed the generous amounts on his plate and immediately reached out for two pancakes with his fingers and plopping it down on his plate before taking three more from the middle dish and practically drowning his towers in maple syrup. As if it wasn’t enough, he reached for the softened butter.
When Jin returned, it was with another dishful of bacon and slices of apple. If he noticed the change of plates, he said nothing. 
For a long while, they all occupied themselves with their food. A companionable silence 
“What’s the agenda for today?” Jungkook was the first to break the silence.
“Yoongi hyung is coming with us to buy furniture for noona.” Jimin replied.
Taehyung then stops slicing his pancake and jutted out his lips towards Yoongi’s direction.
“Can I come with you?”
“I need your voice for the new song I’ve been working on.” Namjoon replied, looking up from his journal with a stern stare directed at the pouting boy. “You’ve been gone for so long, I have a couple for you to work on.”
“I can do that tomorrow, hyung. Let me go just for today? Hm?” 
“I can go right? Since you need Tae’s voice instead of mine.” Jungkook sleepily chimed in, eyes still half closed and a hand raised halfway.
“You’ll do the carrying?” Yoongi challenges.
“I’ll even do the talking.”
Jungkook held his gaze with a small, playful grin, waking his face up which Yoongi matched after a couple seconds passed.
“Alright, you’re going with us, kid.”
“I have a touch-based soulmark, I need to come too!” Taehyung argued..
“It's not as drastic as Jimin’s. Even then, you’ve recharged enough.” Seokjin responds, pointing his fork at him.
But before Tae could reply, a shrill notification sound pierced through the air and Y/N pulled her phone out of the pockets of her sleep shorts. Eomma <3
Shit.
Seeing how fast the entertained lilt in her expression drops into dread, the table falls into a hush. As if sensing the approaching tsunami of words from her mother, Yoongi takes his mug and walks out of the room with Seokjin following close behind. 
_____
“What did I hear about you getting a soulmate? You ungrateful child, I carried you for nine months and raised you with my blood, sweat, and tears yet this is how you treat me?!”
That was how your mother had begun the moment you had accepted her call. Her voice, despite being carried through such a small device, had blasted out, her uncontainable rage far too grand to be limited by the phone’s initial features. How a small woman could hold such an explosive anger and powerful voice is a wonder no one in the world has the answer for.
Hearing her voice through the speakers had Seokjin, Yoongi and Namjoon fleeing the scene, but not without karma immediately hitting their leader who had accidentally checked his shoulder on the wall on his way out.
Jungkook followed quickly, dunking his milk in one go and taking his plate with him as he jogged to follow his hyungs, Taehyung behind him.
Jimin had tried to leave but was stopped by both your entangled hands.
“So damn ungrateful you are! Didn't even tell me what was happening, a fucking lawyer knocked on my door and there I find out that my child is tethered. What was my daughter doing to forget to tell HER mother she had soulmates? Why did I have to hear it from someone I don't know?!”
“Did you really think you could leave me alone here?” I whisper-shout at him.
“Noona, let me go. I know we can go for five minutes now.”
“You’re really gonna risk our health for that?”
“At least don’t turn the camera at me, let me hide under the table.”
“Is that my new son-in-law Jimin?” Your mother had chimed, her tone taking a sudden turn. I turned the camera to him despite the insistent shake of head and wide eyes. “When you said you were also trying to find a husband for my daughter, I didn’t think you’d mean you and your brothers!”
“I know right?! Who knew I’d be one of the husbands I’ve been talking about, right auntie?”
“Already talking about marriage, huh? Y/N!” You turn the camera to you and find her smiling so wide you feel your cheeks ache for her. “Your soulmates got good heads on them, already thinking about marriage this early on!”
You shake your head. 
While marriage had once been an issue you lost sleep on, you knew it was impossible to attain as idols. They still got stadiums to perform in, songs to compose and perform for the ARMY. Bangtan would continue on for years as long as they sing and dance or as long as their passion remains alive and roaring. They had worked hard to get where they are now, with the taste of glory and power that comes with their rise in fame, retirement is a far away dream when they’re just getting started. 
Not to mention, your brain still struggles to accept your new reality despite the very apparent a red string connecting you and Yoongi over the table, and hearing Namjoon's heartbeat at the back of your mind. Hoseok hasn’t even checked his test result yet but your mother is already looking decades ahead.
“Ma please, you know that’s after they retire which is thirty years from now.”
“Jimin,” she calls out, lip jutted out in a pout and he leans over to get into the frame. “Are you guys going to make this old woman wait to see her daughter be a bride? I’m not gonna last long you know? My bones hurt every morning and my appetite is beginning to weaken.”
Jimin laughed nervously, eyes wide as he turned to you for help but you're not going to jump in when his face has calmed the raging beast. 
“Don't think for one second that I'm done with you, you ungrateful brat! You haven't even told me why you broke it off with Guwon when he was about to propose!”
“D-does it really matter now?” You winced when Jimin narrowed his eyes at you. Suddenly remembering what was drowned out by the sudden revelation of your soulmate links.
“It doesn't, global popstars sound much better than a lawyer anyway but would it hurt you to tell me what happened exactly? Don't you think your mother deserved an explanation at least after I toiled away trying to find you a husband?!”
“Don't you worry about it anymore, auntie,” Jimin says, voice like a gentle caress trying to tame her fierce anger. “Noona now has seven to care for her now, we'll get to that bridge when it comes but for now, how about we treat you girls to a nice spa out in Jeju?”
“Oh? I wouldn't want to impose on your bonding period, but I'd like to take that offer later. How so nice of you, Jiminie.”
“It’s not the best of gifts but I assure you that there’s plenty to come. Expect a couple of fruit baskets from Yoongi hyung and other stuff too from the others.
“You seven better take care of my daughter, it would be a shame if you all mucked it all up and I have to resent you all.” Your mother sighed, feigning sadness. “Anyways, expect a visit from Soo-in soon dear daughter. She will deliver my heartfelt joy in my stead, your father still needs my help around the house, damn pride of his, he shouldn’t have mindlessly tried to fix the roof himself.”
A shiver wracks down your spine at the thought of your mother’s gift after ghosting her and Soo-in for almost a week now. 
The last time your sister had visited, it was after Jungkook had ‘ran-into-the-sunset’ with you on his shoulder and him covered from head to toe in black. The vile wrench had switched your sugar and salt, hid the lids of your tupperwares, hid lego in your shoes before eventually ending her wickedness by hiding the wires of your charger and the wifi router’s adapter.
If your mother only threatened to hang you upside down, Soo-in made sure everything in life became irritatingly inconvenient.
“She won’t be pinching my ears?”
“She’s classier than that, I raised her first so expect more. I love you, dear daughter! Visit us soon with your seven soulmates!”
__________
[Today, 12:42]            [12:42] The BADDEST💅: so let me get one thing straight and two things gay            [12:42] The BADDEST💅: ur linked with bangtan?            [12:42] The BADDEST💅: THE ENTIRE ROSTER?????            [12:43] The Mother😌: congratulations Y/N, I’m so glad you finally found your soulmates😊            [12:43] The Mother😌: always knew you’d be tethered            [12:43] The PRETTIEST🌸: so who’s the biggest?👀            [12:43] The BADDEST💅: girl I don’t even think you got the libido for two            [12:43] The BADDEST💅: how tf are you gonna handle seven?!?!?!            [12:43] The BADDEST💅: she was in the hospital u fiend @The Prettiest            [12:43] The BADDEST💅: she needs to be worrying about a different type of d to receive            [12:44] Queen Oblivious😮‍💨: SHUT IT MINHYUK            [12:44] Queen Oblivious😮‍💨: hoseok isn’t confirmed yet so its just six for now            [12:44] The Prettiest🌸: bet you wish he’s your soulmate too            [12:44] The Prettiest🌸: cuz the way that man thrusts his hips in baepsae?            [12:44] The Prettiest🌸: 🥵            [12:44] The Mother😌: have some faith in her, she’ll manage            [12:44] The Mother😌: gift giving for your birthday just got a whole lot easier though😊            [12:44] Queen Oblivious😮‍💨: wdym by that @The Mother😟            [12:45] The BADDEST💅: NO BUT SRSLY            [12:45] The BADDEST💅: HOW TF ARE YOU GONNA MANAGE SEVEN            [12:45] The BADDEST💅: ONE DICK PER DAY??? SEVEN DAYS A WEEK??/             [12:45] The BADDEST💅: lowkey wish that for me BUT            [12:45] The BADDEST💅: HOW??????             [12:46] Queen Oblivious😮‍💨: MINHYUK PLEASE            [12:46] Queen Oblivious😮‍💨: JIMIN IS LITERALLY NEXT TO ME            [12:46] Queen Oblivious😮‍💨: NABI CONTROL YOURSELF            [12:46] The PRETTIEST🌸: don’t scold me when ik ur thinking about it too            [12:46] The Mother😌: when’s the soulbinding?            [12:46] Queen Oblivious😮‍💨: Jihae please, its only been a few days            [12:46] The Mother😌: back in my days, people bound themselves and completed the bond on the first day…            [12:47] The PRETTIEST🌸: minhyuk i think you're forgetting the best part out of this            [12:47] The BADDEST💅: wut?            [12:47] The PRETTIEST🌸: imagine Alexa’s reaction when she finds out our dearest Y/N is Seokjin’s real soulmate            [12:47] The BADDEST💅: OH            [12:48] The BADDEST💅: she better HOPE she’s not in bighit anymore the moment the NDA expires            [12:48] The BADDEST💅: im going to be the most annoying fucker she’ll ever meet [Today, 13:02]            [13:02] The BADDEST💅: no but srsly how?            [13:02] The PRETTIEST🌸: R I P that pussy ayee
________
There’s nothing more infuriating than picking furniture with your soulmates, you decided.
Yoongi wanting everything to be practical and of the greatest quality matched with Jungkook’s penchant for only liking soft things, it was hell to be stuck in a furniture warehouse with the both of them. Jimin had never looked so godly when he insisted on letting you pick the brownish-red persian rug to be placed under the wide round canopy bed you had eventually settled with after a long debate with the rapper and the youngest.
What started as Jimin towing you around the shop to place you in front of every furniture before a mischievous grin spread across his lips, and the strength of the bed frames immediately turned sour when you both found your other two companions calmly arguing about the color of the curtains—they both eventually settled with thick white, and beige curtains, to Jungkook’s dismay.
He wanted black-out curtains for when he eventually ends up sleeping in your bed, he claimed.
The current dilemma, however, had you going silent as the prickles of irritation began to itch your skin.
Yoongi wanted to commission a carpenter he knew for a custom desk made for you and is insisting on you to skip shopping for tables and shelves, and take the cheapest one for now but Jungkook thinks it’ll take too long and wanted the boho vanity table set with a huge round mirror with stained glass around the edges. The rapper wanted the place you’d be doing work on, to be built with the practical features while keeping it organized but Jungkook, although he saw his hyung’s vision, refused.
“Imagine waking up with a canopy, great quality bed, amazing decor, then you have to stand up and work on a rackety blue plastic table because you have to wait months for that desk. How does that sound, hyung?”
Jimin not picking sides only added to the pounding headache you’re having.
While you understand both sides of the argument, either of those options didn't make you feel less guilty about having them skip work to spend all this money for your room, even if you knew how barely of a scratch their collective funds will take.
If Taehyung hadn't had the foresight to hide your wallet while you were in the shower with Jimin, the guilt would've been lighter.
You envy Jin who has been prickling your tastebuds with honey glazed fried chicken back in bighit, the lingering taste on your tongue making your stomach uncomfortably churn in hunger.
The disguises could only last for so long before people start noticing how familiar your soulmates’ eyes are, seeing as they’re plastered everywhere in the major cities. For the public to see your hands entangled in the pocket of Jimin’s coat would fuel the press for a year; hell, a century even with how the media moves these days.
As Jungkook’s voice picks up, you reach for the red string and Yoongi halts, looking down at the connecting line before gently grabbing it too.
‘Head hurts’
‘No more’
The rapper lets out an exhale and Jungkook stops.
‘Sorry’
‘Forgive?’
“Ok, so how about we take the set and I commission my guy then we’ll change it out once it's done?”
“Deal.”
Next to you, Jimin sighed in relief. “Thank god that’s settled, I thought I was going crazy listening to them debate on what’s better.”
“I don’t think either of them has ever fought for something they wanted that much.”
You turn to Jimin and a teasing smirk grows on his face.
“They love you like that, noona. Wanted nothing but the best of the best for you.” 
In a different context, you would've easily brushed off his comment but having the warmth of his touch thrum from your hand to your toes, the healing touch always at work, your cheeks flushed dark and you lightly slapped his arm.
Ever dramatic, he clutched his bicep and winced.
“Why are you hurting me like this?”
“Please, we have regeneration as our soulmark. You're barely hurt.”
“I'm gonna bruise and the fans are gonna see it then I'm telling them how much you like hurting me!”
________
When Hoseok arrived it was with a chorus of loud bangs!. The man had leapt at least a foot or two from the shock as confetti rained on him. 
Once he recovered though, he rained curses on the mischievous maknaes—and surprisingly, Yoongi and Namjoon too but they were spared due to one having his hyung privilege and Namjoon having retreated to the kitchen before his hyung had recovered from the shock.
Jin had clapped him in the back when he entered the dining room, fitting the huge and frilly birthday hat on his head and taking a picture of his dumbfounded reaction before the man could even realise what was happening.
Seeing them celebrate such a small thing, an odd feeling settles in your heart. You try not to be a killjoy but you couldn't ignore the mass settling on your gut.
Everything continued on as normal, everyone acted like they had before Jungkook's confession. They find out their links to you and suddenly, the past is behind them. As if you hadn't—although unintentionally—led them on and hadn't rejected three of them. A soul link appears and every fault was forgiven.
It wasn't only you who seemed to be feeling this way though.
Namjoon too it seems, seeing how he had kept his distance. Not in a bad way but rather a respectable, perfectly platonic way. You guessed it'll take long before the information would sink in for the non-believer, he was the one who had treated you more professionally than the others. You'd feel his concerned eyes ever so often but other than that, he'd treat you like a fragile glass.
Never to be touched and never to be perceived too long, fearing the weight of his gaze is enough to make you crumble.
(Or was it just you turning something that was normal before into fuel for your restless mind with the soulmarks now in the picture?)
You knew Namjoon is just having a hard time settling down with the fact that he's in a nexus connection with you but the ugly voice at the back of your head whispered a different tale. All of them are negative and judged far too harshly than you normally do yourself.
Jungkook bets his hyung will break after the third week, Tae says a month, and Jimin slyly says next week. You think it'll take Namjoon at least half a year before he properly processes him being tethered to someone, a non-believer.
The thumb that began to caress your knuckles snapped you out of your thoughts and you immediately found Jimin’s concerned eyes.
“You okay?”
You nod but he knew you better. Luckily, he lets it go.
“Open it, open it!” Jungkook chants, bringing everyone to gather around them.
Hoseok nervously laughed, placing down his car keys, phone, and wallet on the table before flipping the envelope’s flap. 
Unconsciously, you leaned forward as he carefully tears the paper, the sound seeming to echo loudly in the silence of everyone’s nervous anticipation. As his brothers had gone from standing at a respectful distance to noisily looking over the main dancer’s shoulder, Jimin had tugged you closer to join them, standing in front and peering over as Hoseok flips open the first fold.
Then out of nowhere, Yoongi had a burst of energy and screamed.
Everyone jumped at his sudden burst of energy making Hoseok’s hand shoot up to his heart and the three maknaes snapped their head to their hyung. The man in question laughed noiselessly, satisfied with the reaction he garnered.
“Hyung, why did you do that?! I just got out of the hospital and you want to send me back again!”
“You’re practically invincible, what are you talking about?” Yoongi shot back.
“Just open it, all I’m seeing is your information hyung and that’s boring!” Taehyung cuts in. “I already know what your blood type is, your last name—”
“You go open it then—”
His words died on his tongue when Taehyung snatched the paper up from the envelope and pulled it open. But before he could start reading the result, Hoseok took it back.
Waiting as he read through his results felt like watching the presidential race on the tv, heartbeat rising every time the opposing candidate gained more than the man you elected. You worried your bottom lip with your teeth. His eyebrows furrowed, his frown deepening as his eyes wandered lower and you began to panic.
Why are you even nervous? 
Aren't you being too greedy for wanting to have Hobi too?
Hoseok then crumbled into the floor, curling up to himself as he clutched the paper to his chest. Instantly, everyone panics as his heart shattering sobs echoed in the living room.
Suddenly, the colorful decorations hanging on the wall and the balloons scattered on the floor made
“Hoba? What’s wrong?”
“Hyung come on, don’t make me nervous like this!”
“What did it say?”
Jimin falls next to him, your hand momentarily forgotten to comfort his hyung and Jungkook follows, hugging the sobbing man while Seokjin reaches for the crumpled paper peeking out of Hoseok’s curled up form, a grim expression on his face.
“I am writing to inform you of the results of your recent soulmark evaluation and tethered status assessment. After a thorough examination and review of your diagnostic tests, it has been confirmed that you are,” Seokjin takes a deep breath then releases it shakily, a wide smile spreading across his lips. “Indeed tethered.”
You let go of the breath you had unconsciously held in as everyone in the room began to celebrate. Jimin pulled Hoseok to stand, laughing as the man continued to weep before reaching up to fix the birthday cap Seokjin had slipped onto his head. Jungkook, unable to stop himself from ridiculing his hyungs whenever he could, pulled out his phone to record them.
“How do you feel knowing you’re the first ever tethered in your family?”
Taehyung follows by placing his phone under Hoseok’s chin like a mic.
“You must be so happy being the first Jung to have a soulmate since the dawn of time, sir. Please tell us what you’re feeling right now.”
“Get that fucking… camera off my face or I’ll break it.”
Hearing this, Namjoon turns to the maknaes. “Stop teasing him, Seokjin hyung isn’t even done reading it.”
Despite this, Jungkook didn’t stop recording but Taehyung had skipped over to look over Seokjin’s shoulder.
“I think you’ll want to read this one yourself, Hoba.” The oldest says, handing the paper over to the sniffling man.
With his result back in his hand, Hoseok straightened himself, clearing his throat as Jimin gently wipes his tears off of his cheeks.
“This means you have a soulmate, a unique and profound connection that is both rare and significant. Furthermore, based on the characteristics of your soulmark and the energy patterns observed, there is a high probability that your soulmark is of the altering type.”
“They have the technology to figure out the soulmark type too?” Yoongi asks, surprised.
“Unfortunately, the global fated registry haven’t figured out a way to pinpoint what soulmark our patients have. It is with our deepest—”
“Didn’t know that, had mine cancelled when I figured it out before the results came.” Seokjin replied. Beside him, Taehyung pulls up his phone to rapidly type out whatever he had in his mind.
“I wonder what kind of altering mark it is. There’s a lot of documented ones but what if it’s also a new soulmark? A revived one from the 19th century like Jimin’s?”
“That’s unlikely.” Yoongi refutes.
“You don’t know that.”
With the initial elation ebbing away, everyone continued the celebration seated around the dining table where Jimin had parted from you to take out the congratulating cake from the fridge to light up and serve in front of their hyung who had almost toppled over with how hard he laughed seeing it.
Yoongi had insisted they also take out the apologizing cake so it wouldn’t go to waste. Upon hearing this, the group broke out in laughters, unbelieving until Jungkook brings out the ube flavored cake with the sentence “sorry your family nerfed your potential to be a lover boy.” placed on top in red icing.
The excitement never faded away through the night, dinner was lively, as if they had swept the four daesangs on both award shows. But instead of being influenced by the joy you feel down the red line from Yoongi and the practically vibrating maknaes sitting across you who keep cutting through conversations with suggestions on what soulmark their hyung might have, you find yourself standing behind a tall wall.
When everyone cheered and raised their mugs to toast, you only felt yourself mentally retreat further as a mass settled deep in the pit of your gut.
Seeing the men around you with wrists decorated in thick bands of gold that cost more than your yearly wage, faces flawless from careful maintenance, and names carrying the weight of their country’s pride, did you really deserve them? 
You, who was a nobody staff they just happen to gravitate to due to the closeness of age, matched with the members of the world’s biggest boyband. They weren’t just out of your league. You’re the human on earth wishing to reach the stars from another, far away galaxy, yet by fate’s generosity, you were given the chance to see the beauty of them from up close.
How does one come from dating sleazy men with oily hair and faces akin to an infant’s drawing to being tethered to superstars everyone in the world would sacrifice a life for a chance to talk to them?
When everyone had begun to retire for the night, Jimin had silently guided you back to his room. The sensation of him pressing a kiss on your forehead cuts off your thoughts, his arms wrapping around you in a tight hug grounding you further.
“Are you with me now, noona?”
“Of course, I always am.” You answered with a scoff, pulling away and he frowned.
“I could sense your feelings the entire dinner, don’t try to lie to me.”
Even in the shades of his room bare of any bright lighting, you feel Jimin stare past your physical body and peer into your soul. In the harsh darkness with only you and him standing in it, you felt exposed, stripped to the barest bone under his gaze.
Never have you ever hated having a soulmate than you do now with someone perceiving your feelings openly, sensing the slightest shift in your mood with a brush of skin. It's annoying, scary yet at the same time relieving that there’s someone who could hear the tune of the noise in your brain. 
Not many people have the same luck you have, seven soulmates with one of them granting you what technically is immortality, who else wins at life like that?
But do you really deserve it? Deserve them?
“Stop that. You deserve this, deserve all of us. If someone thinks otherwise, tell me their name and I’ll go beat them up.”
You laugh. “You can’t do that, that’ll stain your image.”
“I don’t think you understand just how important you are to me, noona.” He says, pulling you closer to him. “Before you think about it, I’ll beat someone up for you with or without the soulmarks.”
The image of someone with the face of an angel and a sweet demeanor like Jimin jumping someone in the parking lot to fight for your honor shouldn’t have made you cackle the way you did. The warm rumbles from your linked hands spread across your body and the thoughts were immediately silenced.
“I know you wouldn’t like it but I’ll be telling the other guys about this. I don’t like how you think you’re undeserving of all this when you do, in fact, deserve this bond after sticking with us through thick and thin. You saw all of our flaws and helped us in our bad days, you may think you haven’t done much to warrant this kind of luck but you do.” 
Jimin pressed his lips on your forehead and your heart skipped a beat.
“Namjoon hyung might have a problem expressing it, Yoongi hyung might not show it openly like Jungkook and Taehyung does, but they share the same sentiment. It’ll take them time to be more expressive so I hope you find it in yourself to be patient. We’re still in the adjusting phase so if anything bothers you, don’t hesitate to tell us.”
Tears were streaming down your face at this point, eyes burning as they poured out like a waterfall. The softness in his voice has eased its way into your heart and dispelled the gloominess surrounding it, replacing it with a crashing wave of relief followed by the warmth provided by the soulmark.
You didn’t realise how much your thoughts had been wearing you down until tonight. Comforted by his words and the tightness of his hug, the dam finally breaks and you falter in his hold.
“Shh, cry it all out, noona.”
“I-I shouldn’t be crying over something so stupid like this.”
He shakes his head. “It's not stupid. Don’t say that.”
There’s a tug on your pinkie and you feel the string grow heavier. Immediately, Yoongi’s concern bleeds into you.
‘Why crying?’
‘What happened?’
“Let’s go lay down, noona. I’m feeling the ache in my muscles bending down like this.” He says lightheartedly, giggling. “Don’t worry about answering the others, I’ll handle it later.”
Guiding you to the bed, Jimin tugs you to fall into his arms and you let yourself be pulled into his chest.
Between the sound of Jimin and Namjoon’s heartbeats, and his fingers tracing slow circles on your back while the other hand massaged your scalp, it was easy to be lulled into sleep. In the echoing sound of your sniffles and hiccups, his sweet humming permeates through the air. His song was familiar yet your sleep addled mind took a second to realise what it was.
Serendipity, your mind eventually supplied.
For a moment, in the solace his arms offered, the world became quiet and you fell asleep, forgetting to worry about what chaos yesterday will bring.
_________
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yuyusshinelight · 10 hours ago
Note
Yunho smut where the reader is shy to ask anything sexual and Dom yunho helps her by edging
Hi, my shining star! I'm sorry it took so long, the truth is that I've gotten into this fic a little longer than I expected. I don't know if it's what you were looking for but I really hope you like it as much as I loved writing it🫶🏻.
Warnings: established couple, edging, oral sex, fingering, breast playing, use of pet names, dom-sub subtle dynamic.
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You have been scrolling through your Instagram page for half an hour more or less, seeing a big variety of edits, videos and pictures of your lovely, sweet boyfriend being or looking everything but lovely and sweet. It's almost insane the amount of hot, breathtaking content Yunho has in social media, even making you feel overwhelmed by how scarily handsome his public persona is. The way he moves, the way he looks at the camera, the way he poses… Every single angle of your boyfriend makes him look fine. Certainly, Yunho doesn't have a bad angle at all.
And that's why you perfectly understand why Atiny is so obsessed with him. Because you have seen a lot of messages, videos and more and more about how much random people want Yunho for themselves. As you have also seen a lot of content about how much they want to feel his hands around their necks, how much they want him to finger them, how good it would be to be at his mercy...
There's a lot of dirty content about your boyfriend on the internet, and you could be jealous of all those filthy comments about Yunho but, meanwhile they only can have those videos or pictures, you can delight yourself with the real thing.
You are the only one who has seen what happens when the sweet Yunho everyone knows takes a step back to give free rein to the kinky one. It's you who has tasted all the things he knows to do with those glorious hands that life has given him. Your pussy gets wet just thinking about those long fingers digging into your tight hole to make you moan his name at the top of your lungs as his free hand closes around your neck with utmost subtlety, applying light, pushing pressure in the right place to cloud your vision.
What a bad time to get horny when you are curled up in the corner of the sofa with him sitting next to you, playing one of his many video games.
Don't get it wrong, there's nothing bad about getting horny being by his side, it's just that you are a really shy person and asking anything sexual is out of your possibilities. You always shake like jelly, looking away from him with your cheeks and ears as red as a tomato when Yunho asks you if you feel like having sex. There's no way that you can ask him to finger you without getting nervous, you know yourself pretty well, you would end up running away in embarrassment before even calling him.
What a lucky girl you are to have such an attentive person as your boyfriend. Because yes. Yunho has noticed that something goes wrong with you. You're moving your feet nervously while you shrink more and more into place, slowly turning your phone over in an attempt to hide from him whatever you are seeing. In addition, all the furtive glances you have been giving him for a while now, blushing immediately before looking away. Yunho has a slight idea of what's wrong with you, and he's more than happy to give you the solution you're asking for with those little looks, but not without playing a bit first.
“Everything okay, princess?” He asks without taking his eyes off the screen, his voice is calm but his face tells everything. Although you can't see it because you are too embarrassed to lift your eyes from your phone now “Y-Yes” you squeeze your shirt. You know your boyfriend pretty well which makes you be sure that he will tease you until you say what he wants to hear "Are you sure?” his voice changes to that one deep and pussy-tease voice he knows you love ”Because it seems the opposite to me, princess. Come on, be a good girl and tell me what it is that makes you so restless” Like a flash, the fact that you were right makes you blush even more, turning your face to your phone, noticing that you never removed the reels, meeting with several clips of Imitation. Bad timing indeed. Like the rest of his fans, you have a thing for actor Yunho.
“O-Oh my god…” In a quick motion, you turn your phone off and let it fall at your side, hiding your face in your long sleeves, which obviously catches Yunho's attention. He knows it's not right to take your phone without your permission but the reaction was certainly striking for the idol so, out of curiosity, he pauses his game before taking your phone and turning it on, finding one of those many edits of him acting jealous. The smile that spreads across his face says it all.
“Does my princess like when I act jealous?” He says with a certain tone that makes you close your eyes tightly “N-No” but both know that you can't deny it when he has the proof in front of his eyes “Then? Why is my princess all brushed right now?” You make an embarrassed sound, hiding even further in the not secure shelter of your arms.
He shouldn't press you like that, you don't seem comfortable with the course of this conversation, if it can even be called that. But just the way you curl even more in your spot, how you squeeze your legs together or how red your ears are getting is enough for Yunho to know that you need some attention down there but you don't know how to ask for it without saying it. And, as he also knows that you will not make a move even if your cunt starts to squeeze around nothing uncomfortably hard, he decides to take the next step.
“You know?” Yunho gives small pats on your thigh, making you look up at him for a few seconds, just until he says “Something tells me that you need a panty replacement. Am I wrong, princess?” squeezing your soft thigh with a certain force. You get goosebumps as soon as he leans close to your ear to whisper that last part in a sensual way ”Because, if that's the case, I can help you. You only have to use your big-girl words” he says, looking at you with that knowing smile printed on his perfect lips, expecting from you to answer him but you can't say anything, not with all that amount of new arousal running down your folds, ruining your panties even more.
You don't even dare to look at him, how can you utter a word? But, you know Yunho, you know he won't give you what he knows you want from him unless you do it his way. It always happens. He can have you gushing in his mouth but won't move a muscle until he gets things the way he wants them to go. So, you bite your head off and whisper a faint “Please”.
“Please what, princess?”.
“Help me”.
And that's how you have ended up on the couch with your legs wide open to leave Yunho enough space to give you the attention he perfectly knows you need.
With utmost delicacy, Yunho brushes his fingertips up your stomach, making you sigh between lovely whimpers, as he likes to call them, ending up dragging his nose along the curvature of your now exposed breast “You smell so good” he inhales deeply with the sole intention of becoming intoxicated by your scent, dipping forwards and placing tender kisses along your chest, “Mm” Yunho rubs a hand up your thigh, keeping his eyes on your cute expressions “I could eat you up, princess” your stomach tightens, breath short on your lips as his soft lips brush over one of your pebbled, pink mounds before taking it into his mouth to start flicking it with his tongue nonchalantly “I… Yunho please” you breathe desperately, melting into his touch, savoring the way his tongue tortures shamelessly your poor nipple with steady flicks and sucks.
"Be… be careful, they're sensitive" but that warning only encourages him to bite down gently and tug lightly on it to elicit the mewls of painful pleasure he loves so much. Only after he hears you meowing his name between needy sobs is when Yunho disconnects his mouth from your breast, "Much better, don't you think princess?" Without giving you time to respond, he bends his head to your chest again, this time taking the other one in his mouth as he indifferently massages the breast he has just played with. His lips closing perfectly around your nipple as his tongue rolls it incessantly, sucking at will at the same time as his fingers play mischievously with your other nipple.
“Y-Yuyu” With your body burning with desire from just the stimulation on your breasts, your restless hands quickly search for a place to clutch to release even a little tension, meeting immediately with Yunho's strong arms ready to be squeezed by you. And, though at first your hands stay there still, delighting itselves in the sweet touch of his arms, they themselves decide to move upwards until one reaches its fixed place on his back and the other on his head, fisting on the fabric of his shirt and his silky soft hair.
That little tug on his scalp you give him when he bites your nipple with some force makes Yunho grunt lasciviously against your skin, burying himself even deeper as he ruffles your nipple. The stimulation is enough to make more and more arousal wet your little pussy, the feeling of pressure in your lower belly making you raise your hips in search of something to help you release it.
The moment your hips begin to move subtly to the rhythm of Yunho's fingers on your nipple, he doesn't think twice and drives his free hand down to the moist warmth between your legs, just brushing his fingertips gently across your sensitive clit over the fabric, applying just enough force to make you shiver slightly without giving you the pleasure you crave.
More and more moans of his name fall out from your mouth as he continues playing with your pink abused mounds. Meanwhile, his long, skilful fingers have already passed the barrier of cloth that separates him from your wet heat, slipping two of his digits at once into your tight pussy while his thumb immediately finds your clit. The reaction is instantaneous, the moment you feel his fingers make their way into your tiny hole your back arches, causing your head to snap back with just the first rub on your clit.
“Oh god… Yunho” Your legs automatically wrap around his body, pulling him tighter against yours in a reflex action “feels so good”. You can feel him smiling against your skin, rushing the movement of his fingers synchronously with his tongue, stimulating both breasts equally but giving more attention to your little tight cunt which does not stop squeezing his fingers.
It's non-stop, his fingers going in and out of your pussy as he pleases, making sure to hit your cervix every time he slips them back in. The softness with which he caresses your inner walls only to expertly prick your sweet spot makes you delirious, tears begin to form in your eyes as a thin trickle of drool trickles down the corner of your lips.
This is what Yunho likes the most, it's a direct ego boost for him how with just his fingers and tongue he is able to make you lose your mind like this in a matter of minutes. And even more so with what he has planned.
Thirsting for your delicious arousal as if he hasn't had a drink in a decade, Yunho separates a second time his insatiable mouth from you, wiping some of his saliva from the corner of his lips with his tongue. A sight too hot for your own good “Do you like it princess? Come on, tell me how much you like when I play with your needy cunt, when I play with your boobs. Tell me” And you want to answer but the shame of talking dirty and the climax approaching dangerously fast prevents you from raising your voice except to moan and sob “Say it, princess. Or maybe I should stop?”.
At the threat of losing all sources of pleasure now that your body had reached that state of excitement that announced a near orgasm, you shake your head quickly, moving your hips to the sound of his fingers in search of more pleasure, but Yunho stops you with his free hand “Say it”. His voice is serious, ringing in your ears in the most sensual way you could have ever expected, it could almost have brought you to cum but Yunho has had to decide to remove his fingers from your pussy just when you were almost dare. It clearly makes you cry at the loss of that delicious orgasm you were going to have. But you know that doesn't work for Yunho, in fact, it encourages him to tease you even more. So, in order to make him not let your orgasm fade, you answer him “I… I really love when… when you finger me or… or play with my boobs”.
Satisfied with the response, Yunho starts to kiss down your body, trading little licks and bites all the way down your stomach until he reaches your both clothed anymore cunt because, you don't know when, he has already got rid of your panties “Good girl” He says against your pussy, letting his hot breath make you shiver before spreading even more your legs wide and hooking them over his shoulders to lazily start sucking and nibbling on the flesh of your inner thigh, alternating it with kisses “So good for me always”.
The tension in your lower belly that was threatening seconds before to explode shortly is easing considerably and you are not amused about it. Now it's clear to you that it didn't matter what you did or said, he was going to steal the pleasure of cumming anyway.
Well, you need his tongue in your throbbing pussy to make you cum really good and you need it now so, playing a dirty trick “I’m your good girl, yes” You start to move your hips subtly, indirectly asking him to bury that perfect face he has in your pussy and abuse your insides with his tongue as only he knows how. But, instead of that, Yunho spanks your thigh a bit hard, enough for pleasure and pain to mix deliciously together. “Good girls use words to ask for what they want, princess” he says, moving to the left to give it the exact same treatment as the other.
With the stinging sensation still in your right leg and the sweet touch of his lips on your left, you know you have no choice but to give him what he wants to get what you want so, swallowing a bit hard “Please, Yuyu, eat me” He kisses your thigh one last time before spanking it as hard as he has done with the other one, looking at you directly in the eyes with that proud smile spreading his lips deliciously hot “What do my princess want me to eat first?” For that piercing gaze he is giving you, you already know that there's no other option, either you say it or he will stop everything.
“Eat my… my pussy. I need your tongue, your fingers. Whatever. But please, make me cum”.
With that proud smile that he has not erased growing, Yunho finally approaches his mouth to your needy cunt, leaving a soft kiss on your throbbing clit “Whatever my princess wants, my princess gets” Nothing but a whine leaves you when his hands, now securely on your hips, pull you down further, making it easier for him to devour you.
The very same moment he passes his tongue flat over your throbbing clit, your nails dig into his shoulder, making him hiss hard but not enough to make him stop his task. The pleasure is high enough to make you start to rock your hips uncontrollably, his nose bumping your clit perfectly to make your whole body tremble. That tension in your belly reappears quickly, even stronger. Your pussy opening and closing around his tongue shamelessly as Yunho plays roughly with your clit.
“Ah!” your head twists back, your hands clutching harder when Yunho pulls his tongue out to attend your clit now “Y-Yunho! P-Please… Please!” The feeling of his tongue flicking along your clit has you rocking your hips involuntarily “Please…” you pant, your body vibrating with pleasure and so close to snapping “I-I'm your good girl… m-make me cum”.
You feel Yunho press a close lipped kiss to the top of your swollen clit, making you gasp, looking down between your legs to find your smiling boyfriend looking up at you with an easy sated gaze, his chin wet and his hair an absolute haystack, blushing across his cheeks.
“S-So hot” you exhale, almost to yourself, but Yunho chuckle tells you that it has not been only for your ears “Does my princess like what she sees?” he rubs your little hole with the tip of his finger, making you jolt “Y-Yunho!” your hips roll, searching for more of his touch “P-Please, come on, please Yunho”.
“I can hear you saying my name like this all day” Yunho sings and kisses your clit again, focusing now on how good his fingers look when he sinks them into your hole one more time, pressing deep until his knuckles are flush with your opening “Yuyu” You cry his name in a moan just as he likes while he starts to pump his fingers again, picking up the pace “Come in, princess, say it again” He croons, moving them quicker when you clench around them “Y-Yunho, Y-Yu-Yu…”.
“That’s it, princess, that's my really good girl. Now, cum for me” He delivers a quick slap on your sensitive clit, making the tension that has been threatening to burst all night finally explode what makes you choke between hard cries of his name. He's quick to put his mouth back on your pussy just in time so that you cum in his mouth, pushing his fingers even deeper while his tongue flicks one last time around your clit before separating once and for all and letting you recover from your orgasm.
“Everything okay, princess?” You can't respond, your breathing is too fast, your heart is racing and your body doesn't respond. Just like Yunho wanted to have you before the next round because, guess what, there is no such thing as rest in his plans.
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weirdgenetic-fuckup · 3 days ago
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Bro, I really need, please, Mustaine from Woodstock, tired, to make me give him a blowjob (roughly), please
A/n: I think I peaked with this fic
Warnings: Smut, oral (m receiving), size kink, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!
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You loved your boyfriend, not just because he was hot but because he was genuinely the sweetest man; he'd help you make food, he'd cook when you were sick, he'd help clean the house, he loved you so purely. However, he was still really fucking hot.
You sat at the sidelines of the stage, eyeing him closely in his plain white tank and light grey sweats. You loved every inch of him, and there were a lot of inches.
Dave was taller than you by quite a bit, he'd always use you as an arm rest. If he had to squeeze past you in the kitchen he'd grab your hips and move you himself, if you had trouble reaching something he'd more often than not just lift you up instead of getting it himself.
He knew how much you loved his muscles, and he went out of his way to remind you of them.
His long hair was frizzy, having not washed it in a few days, tours were always like this. It didn't matter to you much, he still looked gorgeous in your eyes, the light glinting off his plush lips. God blessed this white man a full set, and not just referring to his lips.
The tank was tight, stretching over his chest, perky nipples making small shadows. His broad shoulders and firm muscles had your gaze for a while, but nothing compared to his sweats.
They were baggy, sure, but that didn't stop you from finding the little details. He wore them because they were comfortable, never having been one for fashion, and he was definitely comfortable.
You were at the perfect angle to see his cock swinging around in the loose fabric.Dave really didn't move about the stage much, but you caught it every time, every little shift it's where your eyes went first.
You loved watching Megadeth performing, not just for Dave, but watching Dave had your panties getting slick.
You didn't stay for the encore, rushing to his dressing room. You waited on the couch, hand moving eagerly as you waited but it wasn't enough. Thinking of Dave just made you want him more, you wanted him to fuck you so good and deep, you didn't want to walk for a month, you'd get on stage with him if it meant getting his dick faster.
All those eyes on you, watching how good he made you feel, watching you come undone while his fingers worked away on the six strings.
Finally the door opened and Dave smiled at you, letting out a heavy sigh as he sulked over and plopped down beside you. "Needy, darling?" He asked, though it was more of statement. You nodded nonetheless and leaned into him.
"Need it so bad, Davie." You mused, not hesitating to reach for his clothed cock. He let out a low groan as you palmed him, kissing your temple.
"Can you do it? The work, I mean... I'm tired." His words were mumbled but he could see how desperate you were, and who was he to deny you when you looked at him like that.
You nodded, biting your lip as you slipped off the couch onto your knees in front of him. Dave spread his legs and lifted his hips so you could get his sweats off. Of course he'd gone commando.
His half hard cock sprung free, kind of, it stood up but it was just as tired as the rest of him. Dave let out a heavy sigh as you stroked him, his head falling back onto the couch, his arms resting on the back cushions as well.
It was times like this when you felt the smallest, any time you were intimate really. You always knew you were smaller than him, but when he was hovering over you, trailing kisses down your body, when his fingers were buried deep, tickling inside you. Times when he made you see heaven and back, that's when you felt the smallest, and he was oh so big and protective. Just the thought had you clenching around nothing.
You eagerly took the girthy, blushing tip into your mouth, wrapping your lips around him. He'd worn down your gag reflex but you still usually started slow. Not tonight, you buried your nose in his ginger fluff at the hilt, inhaling deeply all the sweat that had gathered there.
You almost didn't want to move, happy to just cock warm him, but you wanted to watch his slit leaking with cum. You went fast, as fast as you could go without snapping your neck, not that you'd be apposed to going out this way. Your tongue swirling around him, tracing the veins along the underside.
God, you could do this all day just to hear his pretty little sounds. "Fuck, just-just like that." He purred, his head rolling back again when he tried to look down at you. His cheeks were flushed, pink leading down his neck.
You brought your hand up, fingers dipping under the hem of his shirt. You pushed it up, revealing his toned stomach, though he was relaxed and therefore just a little pudgy. Your fingers found his chest, cupping it just like he did with your tits, and just like he did with your tits, you started toying with his nipple, finally getting what you'd been wanting since he got on stage.
The lights weren't on him anymore, this was as real as he could be; eyes lidded, lips parted slightly as soft moans filtered past them. Dave's breathing was heavy, you did nothing to slow your pace.
Dave brought his own hand up to his chest, pinching and rolling his other nipple with his calloused fingers. It was enough to make you cum, if only. It definitely had an affect on him, his moans getting higher and his hips rolled up, pushing his cock further down your throat.
He couldn't stop, so close to cumming and everything was feeling so good, your lips wrapped around his girth, tongue moving on him, fingers on his chest. He was pulsing down your throat, so close.
Dave used his free hand to tug on your hair, forcefully pulling you away. His hand took over the role of your mouth, moving faster than you could. You heard the soft, whiny little breaths he let out, tears welling in his eyes as his hips bucked helplessly into his hand, aching for release.
His breath caught in his throat and cum shot from his pre-leaking slit, landing on your face or the floor. His eyes fluttered and his jaw dropped in ecstasy.
His hand fell from his now limp dick and he fell back onto the couch, his breathing heavy and his body spent. You stood up, crawling onto the couch and straddling his lap.
"You made a mess~" You purred, kissing him tenderly.
He moaned into the kiss, hands finding your hips and resting there. "Guess it's time for a shower, huh?" He mumbled against you, barely pulling away from the kiss.
"Finally." You teased, he gave your ass a gentle pat.
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ithinkthiswasabadidea · 17 hours ago
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I'm not anywhere really near or into Kingdom Come: Deliverance, but since the second game released recently, I've seen a lot of new attention on my social medias, particularly around Henry and Hans' relationship
And I, very obviously, love queer characters and relationships, and even moreso the canon ones, so I watched the IGN video explaining how one might romance Hans in the second game
Man. I was blown away.
By now I've played a handful of rpg's and romanced a handful of npc's, but not ONCE has the dialogue and action of a confession scene ever felt quite so real and as beautifully acted
I have almost zero other context about the games or characters, yet I haven't stopped thinking about that romance scene in days
That you build up the affection and genuine care for Hans through dialogue choices feels completely non-forced, and you can tell that Hans enjoys your presence and respects you immensely. Henry gently encouraging and helping Hans when he's uncomfortable, always concerned about his wellbeing. There's such a solid foundation of mutual trust that even I, as an outside viewer, can tell that both men truly would put their lives in the others hands
And then the confession scene itself? Henry coming to say goodbye, and because of the work that has been put in to convey Henry's feelings of care and devotion for Hans, it's Hans himself who starts the conversation. He tells a story that he 'doesn't have his own words for', displaying that he's uncertain about how this might go, but knowing that it needs to be said before Henry leaves. He's both deflecting and projecting, using this story as a way to cushion the segue into his own feelings, or the blow of rejection should it come. And as Hans imagines something terrible happening to Henry, he immediately gets emotional, voice shaking, knowing he'd be unable to help
There's a small moment as Henry reassures that he'll be alright, when he places a hand on top of Hans' and this small, delightfully hopeful smile appears on Hans' face. I take this to be the moment where Hans believes that Henry has understood his story, and his way of confessing his feelings, and that Henry feels the same way about him. Then Henry stands, moving to leave and Hans' smile drops. Perhaps Henry's confidence falters here, and before he can reciprocate his true feelings and kiss him, Hans is running on adrenaline and courage and pulls Henry into the kiss instead, before he can second-guess himself
It's awkward, uncertain. Hans has this almost crushing grip on Henry like he's barely sure what he's just done, just that he couldn't let him walk away without doing something . And when Henry turns his head and steps back, noises of shock and breathlessness, Hans jumps back like he's been burned and spurned. He's stammering and stuttering out an apology, quiet and upset, unlike his usual self
Hans' body language as he turns away, making himself smaller, making more space between them than is necessary, it displays how he thinks his actions have just been perceived - that Henry doesn't feel the same way, he just ruined a perfectly good friendship, he's made himself look weak. He rubs at his mouth like he wishes he could remove the feel of Henry's lips against his own, tries apologising again, gasping for air, screws up his face in anxiety or anger for his recklessness......
Then Henry makes his own decision and speeds back over to him, pulling him into an even more crushing embrace and kiss, before they make their way over to the bed
The acting direction here in this scene is just so delectablely real . It looks and feels like I'm a fly on the wall of a real life confession, where both men are less than certain about their futures, and even less certain about how their relationship is perceived in the others eyes. Hans is visibly scared of rejection when Henry turns his back, Henry is visibly coming to terms with what he wants in this moment
The reactions are the most natural thing in the world, especially in a game that strives for realism. There was clearly a great deal of care that went into writing and directing this relationship, and with how naturally it progressed to this climax
And I think that's where the divide is for me, when I think about the romance options in BG3 or other rpgs, because there is something more flowery and shiny about those romances that I've experienced. Like they're too perfect, too polished and rehearsed, no room to have any fuck ups or moments of imperfection. But it's the awkwardness and show of non-positive emotions and reactions, rather than immediate lust and experience, that really pins the Henry and Hans scene above the rest
There's probably more I could say, and I'm sure there's more that others who know these characters and the games could say, but I just wanted to get my thoughts into some words and hope that it strikes true with someone else
I don't think I've ever seen a romance scene in a video game, that has felt so genuine as this. A thousand kudos to the actors for Hans and Henry, and the writers and directors for this marvellously curated scene ❤️
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