#premium ropes

[bharatdori]

Crafting Custom Furnishings With Bharatdori: A Guide To Using Furnishing Cords And Polyurethane Rope

In the realm of interior design and custom furnishings, the importance of quality materials cannot be overstated. Whether you're a DIY enthusiast, a professional designer, or a craftsman, the materials you choose play a pivotal role in the durability, aesthetics, and functionality of your creations. Among these materials, furnishing cords and ropes are often overlooked but are essential components that can elevate the quality of your projects. Bharat Hosiery Factory (BHF), through its BharatDori brand, provides an extensive range of premium ropes and cords, including furnishing cords, braided polypropylene rope, and polyurethane rope, tailored to meet the diverse needs of various industries.

The Legacy of Bharat Hosiery Factory

Established in 1960, Bharat Hosiery Factory has over six decades of expertise in the textile industry. Known for its commitment to quality and innovation, BHF has become a trusted name in the market. Their extensive range of products includes polypropylene lines, braided polypropylene ropes, and furnishing cords, all manufactured with precision and care.

Understanding the Materials: Furnishing Cords and Polyurethane Rope

Furnishing Cords

Furnishing cords are versatile materials used extensively in the creation of custom furnishings. These cords are made from various materials, including polypropylene, cotton, and polyester, each offering unique properties suited for different applications.

Polypropylene Line: Known for its durability and resistance to moisture, the polypropylene line is ideal for outdoor furnishings and applications requiring robust, long-lasting materials. Its lightweight nature makes it easy to work with, and it comes in a variety of colors to match any design aesthetic.

Braided Polypropylene Rope: This type of rope is highly favored for its strength and flexibility. The braiding process enhances the rope's tensile strength, making it suitable for heavy-duty applications. Its smooth texture also adds a touch of elegance to any furnishing project.

Polyurethane Rope

Polyurethane rope is a newer addition to the market but has quickly gained popularity due to its unique properties. It combines the flexibility of rubber with the strength of plastic, making it an excellent choice for both indoor and outdoor applications. Polyurethane rope is resistant to abrasion, UV rays, and chemicals, ensuring longevity and durability. Its versatility allows it to be used in a wide range of furnishing projects, from upholstery to decorative accents.

Applications of Furnishing Cords and Polyurethane Rope

Outdoor Furniture

One of the primary applications of furnishing cords and ropes is in outdoor furniture. The use of UV-treated polypropylene lines ensures that the cords and ropes can withstand prolonged exposure to sunlight without degrading. This makes them ideal for crafting patio furniture, hammocks, and garden swings. The braided polypropylene rope, with its enhanced strength, is particularly suitable for creating robust and durable outdoor seating solutions.

Upholstery

Furnishing cords are also extensively used in upholstery. They provide structural support and aesthetic appeal to upholstered furniture. The flexibility and variety of colors available in polypropylene lines allow designers to create intricate patterns and designs that enhance the overall look of the furniture. Polyurethane rope, with its smooth texture and durability, is perfect for creating decorative trims and accents that add a touch of sophistication to upholstered pieces.

Decorative Elements

In addition to their functional uses, furnishing cords and ropes can also be used to create decorative elements in custom furnishings. From tassels and fringes to curtain tiebacks and wall hangings, the possibilities are endless. The wide range of colors and finishes available in BharatDori’s product line ensures that there is a cord or rope to match every design concept.

Crafting with BharatDori: Tips and Techniques

Selecting the Right Material

The first step in any successful furnishing project is selecting the right material. Consider the following factors when choosing between furnishing cords, polypropylene lines, and polyurethane ropes:

Durability: For projects exposed to the elements or heavy use, opt for polypropylene lines or braided polypropylene ropes due to their superior strength and resistance to wear and tear.

Flexibility: If your project requires intricate designs or flexibility, polyurethane rope is an excellent choice due to its unique blend of elasticity and strength.

Aesthetic Appeal: Consider the color and texture of the material. BharatDori offers a wide range of colors and finishes, allowing you to find the perfect match for your design.

Working with Furnishing Cords

When working with furnishing cords, it’s essential to use the right tools and techniques to achieve a professional finish. Here are some tips to help you get started:

Cutting: Use sharp scissors or a hot knife to cut the cords to the desired length. This ensures clean edges and prevents fraying.

Securing Ends: To prevent the ends of the cords from unraveling, apply a small amount of adhesive or heat-seal them using a lighter.

Attaching: Use a strong adhesive or stitching to securely attach the cords to your furniture. For added durability, consider using staples or nails.

Incorporating Polyurethane Rope

Polyurethane rope is incredibly versatile and can be used in various applications. Here are some creative ways to incorporate it into your custom furnishings:

Decorative Trims: Use polyurethane rope to create decorative trims for cushions, pillows, and curtains. Its smooth texture and flexibility make it easy to work with, and it adds a polished look to your furnishings.

Structural Elements: Due to its strength and durability, polyurethane rope can be used as structural elements in furniture design. Consider using it to create unique chair backs, table legs, or even as a supportive netting for shelves.

Outdoor Accents: Enhance your outdoor furniture with polyurethane rope accents. Its resistance to UV rays and moisture makes it perfect for outdoor applications. Create decorative knots, weaves, or even entire sections of your furniture using this versatile material.

Case Studies: Success Stories with BharatDori

Custom Patio Furniture

A local craftsman used BharatDori’s UV-treated polypropylene lines to create a stunning set of custom patio furniture. The ropes were used to weave the seating and backrests of the chairs, providing a comfortable and stylish seating solution that could withstand the elements. The use of bright, vibrant colors added a touch of personality to the outdoor space, making it a favorite spot for family gatherings and parties.

Upholstered Headboard

An interior designer incorporated BharatDori’s braided polypropylene rope into a luxurious upholstered headboard project. The rope was used to create intricate patterns and designs on the headboard, adding depth and texture to the piece. The result was a stunning focal point that elevated the entire bedroom decor, showcasing the designer’s attention to detail and commitment to quality.

Decorative Wall Hangings

A DIY enthusiast used BharatDori’s polyurethane rope to create a series of decorative wall hangings. The rope’s flexibility allowed for the creation of intricate designs and patterns, while its durability ensured that the finished pieces would last for years. The wall hangings added a unique and personalized touch to the home, reflecting the creator’s artistic vision and craftsmanship.

Why Choose BharatDori?

With so many options available in the market, you might wonder why BharatDori stands out. Here are a few reasons why BharatDori should be your go-to choice for furnishing cords and ropes:

Quality Assurance: Bharat Hosiery Factory is known for its commitment to quality. Every product undergoes rigorous testing to ensure it meets the highest standards.

Customization Options: BharatDori offers a wide range of colors, sizes, and finishes, allowing you to customize your materials to match your design vision.

Industry Expertise: With over 60 years of experience in the textile industry, BHF has the knowledge and expertise to provide the best products and solutions for your needs.

Customer Satisfaction: BharatDori prides itself on its customer-centric approach. From prompt responses to personalized solutions, they go the extra mile to ensure customer satisfaction.

Conclusion

Crafting custom furnishings requires attention to detail, creativity, and the right materials. Bharat Hosiery Factory, through its BharatDori brand, provides high-quality furnishing cords, polypropylene lines, and polyurethane ropes that cater to the diverse needs of the furnishing industry. Whether you’re working on outdoor furniture, upholstery, or decorative elements, BharatDori’s products offer the durability, flexibility, and aesthetic appeal needed to bring your vision to life. By choosing BharatDori, you’re not just investing in materials; you’re investing in a legacy of quality, innovation, and customer satisfaction. So, unleash your creativity and start crafting your custom furnishings with BharatDori today.

[valycandy]

6 minutes (+audio) of tying my legs, struggling to escape and asking for help from you🥵! You will untie me 😭? Dm me for the FULL video or check my FREE OF 😏

[wjdexclusives]

Why Solid Rope Chains Are the Superior Choice for Longevity and Investment

https://www.wjdexclusives.com/blog/why-solid-rope-chains-are-the-superior-choice-for-longevity-and-investment/

Why Solid Rope Chains Are the Superior Choice for Longevity and Investment

When it comes to purchasing jewelry, especially rope chains and bracelets, it's crucial to make an informed decision about the type of links you choose. At WJD Exclusives, we offer both hollow and solid rope chains, each with its unique characteristics. However, for those seeking longevity and durability, solid rope chains are the superior choice. Here's why:

The Fragility of Hollow Rope Chains

Hollow rope chains are crafted with super tiny links interconnected into a 4mm rope. While they might appear delicate and intricate, their structure makes them inherently fragile. The gold links are susceptible to damage from regular contact with clothing, leading to wear and tear that often goes unnoticed until it's too late. Additionally, repairs on hollow links are challenging and often leave visible 'scars,' compromising the chain's aesthetic.

Explore Our Hollow Rope Chains Collection

The Durability of Solid Rope Chains

In contrast, solid rope chains are made from continuous, sturdy links that are far more resistant to everyday wear and tear. These chains offer a significant advantage in terms of durability and longevity. When it comes to repairs, solid links can be mended without leaving noticeable marks, maintaining the chain's pristine appearance.

Browse Our Solid Rope Chains Collection

The Investment Value

Investing in solid rope chains not only ensures a piece of jewelry that will last but also retains its value over time. Solid gold chains are less prone to damage and require fewer repairs, making them a better long-term investment. Whether for daily wear or as a cherished heirloom, solid rope chains stand the test of time.

Shop Our Premium Rope Chains

Customer Experience

We've encountered numerous situations where customers experienced issues with hollow chains. For instance, one of our valued customers faced repeated problems with their hollow rope chain. Despite multiple repairs, the chain continued to suffer from damage due to its fragile structure. This highlights the importance of choosing solid rope chains for those looking for reliability and longevity in their jewelry.

Read Customer Reviews

At WJD Exclusives, we are committed to providing high-quality jewelry that meets your expectations. We offer a wide range of both hollow and solid rope chains to cater to different preferences and budgets. However, for those prioritizing durability and a lasting investment, solid rope chains are undoubtedly the better choice.

Discover Our Full Range of Rope Chains

By choosing solid rope chains, you're making a wise investment in a piece of jewelry that will remain beautiful and intact for years to come. Visit our store or browse our online collection to find the perfect chain that suits your style and needs.

[rorjor]

youtube: we're gonna give you fewer ads but make them longer and unskippable because this is such a long video 🥰

also youtube: 8 fucking ad breaks in 13 minutes of video so far

[biodegradable-jute]

Elevating Sustainability and Quality: Hossain Enterprise's Jute Yarn

In an era where sustainability and eco-consciousness are paramount, industries and consumers alike are seeking alternatives to traditional materials that are both versatile and environmentally friendly. Jute, often referred to as the "Golden Fiber," has emerged as a key player in this movement. At the forefront of the jute industry is Hossain Enterprise, a trusted supplier of jute yarn renowned for its high-quality offerings.

Exploring the World of Jute Yarn

Jute yarn is a spun fiber derived from the stalks of the jute plant (Corchorus olitorius and Corchorus capsularis). It is known for its natural golden or beige hue, which adds to its aesthetic appeal. Hossain Enterprise, a leading supplier in the industry, provides various types of jute yarn catering to different needs and applications.

1. Sacking (Sacking Jute Yarn): Sacking jute yarn is celebrated for its strength and durability. It's a popular choice in applications where robustness is paramount, such as heavy-duty sacks and bags. You can also find the usage of this quality yarn in gardening and ware making for the cheap price. Hossain Enterprise's sacking jute yarn is manufactured with precision to ensure it meets the highest quality standards. Its strength makes it ideal for packaging agricultural produce, industrial goods, and more.

2. Hessian (Hessian Jute Yarn): Hessian jute yarn, also known as burlap, is characterized by its natural and rustic appearance. It's widely used in the creation of textiles, home decor, and craft items. Hossain Enterprise's hessian jute yarn maintains the authenticity and texture that makes it a beloved choice for eco-conscious fashion designers, artisans, and decorators.

3. CB (Carpet Backing Jute Yarn): CB jute yarn is specifically designed for carpet backing, offering the strength required for this application. Hossain Enterprise ensures that its CB jute yarn meets the demanding needs of the carpet industry, providing durability and support for carpets that can withstand heavy foot traffic. On the other hand this CB jute yarn and jute twine is also used in the shoe industries as well as in the green houses for the organic and eco-friendliness of the yarn.

4. CRM (Carpet Repairing Material Jute Yarn): CRM jute yarn is a specialized variety used in the repair and maintenance of carpets. It's known for its ease of use and compatibility with carpet weaving techniques. Hossain Enterprise's CRM jute yarn is a reliable choice for carpet repair professionals, ensuring that carpets are restored to their original beauty.

5. CRT (Carpet Runners Jute Yarn): CRT jute yarn is tailored for creating carpet runners, which add a touch of elegance to interiors. These runners need to be strong and durable, and Hossain Enterprise's CRT jute yarn excels in meeting these requirements, making it an excellent choice for creating stylish and functional carpet runners.

6. CRX (Carpet Weaving Jute Yarn): CRX jute yarn is the backbone of carpet weaving. It demands exceptional strength and uniformity to create intricate and sturdy carpets. Hossain Enterprise's CRX jute yarn ensures that carpet weavers have access to a reliable and consistent raw material to produce high-quality carpets.

Why Choose Hossain Enterprise's Jute Yarn?

Hossain Enterprise's commitment to excellence sets it apart as a supplier of choice for jute yarn. Here's why their jute yarn is trusted by industries and artisans worldwide:

1. Quality Assurance: Hossain Enterprise places a strong emphasis on quality control at every stage of production. Their jute yarn is manufactured to meet international standards, ensuring that customers receive consistently high-quality products.

2. Sustainability: Jute is a natural and renewable resource, and Hossain Enterprise's jute yarn aligns with eco-friendly and sustainable practices. By choosing their jute yarn, customers contribute to a greener and more environmentally responsible future.

3. Variety and Customization: Hossain Enterprise offers a wide range of jute yarn types to cater to diverse needs. Whether you require strength, texture, or a specific color, their jute yarn can be customized to suit your exact specifications.

4. Expertise: With years of experience in the industry, Hossain Enterprise's team possesses deep knowledge and expertise in jute yarn production. This ensures that customers receive guidance and support tailored to their unique requirements.

In conclusion, Hossain Enterprise's jute yarn is a testament to the versatility, sustainability, and quality that jute offers. Their commitment to delivering high-quality products has earned them a reputation as a trusted supplier in the jute industry. Whether you're in need of sacking, hessian, CB, CRM, CRT, or CRX jute yarn, Hossain Enterprise provides the ideal solutions for your diverse needs, all while contributing to a more sustainable and eco-conscious world.

[tickletoe21]

Discover the Premium Baby and Kids Products Collection at the Tickle Toe: A Must-Have for Parents

Are you a parent looking for high-quality, safe, and adorable products for your little ones? Look no further than The Tickle Toe! With our premium baby and kids product collection, we have become a go-to destination for parents seeking top-notch items that combine functionality with style.

Buy Cotton Rope Baskets Online from The Tickle Toe to Step up Your Kids’ Room

Step up your child’s room with the perfect combination of functionality and style by incorporating high-quality cotton rope baskets online from The Tickle Toe. These exceptional storage solutions not only keep clutter under control but also bring a touch of sophistication to any space. Crafted from durable 100% cotton rope, these baskets are ideal for organizing toys, books, blankets, and more.

With our diverse range of sizes, elegant designs,and vibrant colors available,you can effortlessly find the perfect fit for any room theme or décor style. Our versatility ensures that we seamlessly blend into your child’s unique space while adding a charming aesthetic appeal. Elevate organization in your child’s room with our premium cotton rope baskets that combine practicality with timeless elegance

Comfort Guarantee: Explore the Tickle Toe’s Potty Training Seat Collection for Babies

Potty training can be challenging,but with the right tools,it becomes much easier. The Tickle Toe understands this journey and offers fantastic collection of potty training seats for babies. Our seats are specifically designed with comfort in mind.With ergonomic design features like supportive backrestsand non-slip bases; The Tickle Toe’spotty training seats provide stability while ensuring our little one the ultimate comfort experience. Explore our range of adorable designs and colors that will make potty are training a fun and exciting process for both parents and children.

What sets The Tickle Toe apart is our unwavering commitment to quality and safety. All products undergo rigorous testing to meet the highest standards, giving parent’s peace of mind in knowing that we are providing our children with nothing but the best. In addition, The Tickle Toe prioritizes customer satisfaction. Our user-friendly website offers a seamless shopping experience, while our dedicated support team is always ready to assist with any inquiries or concerns.

Conclusion

Discover the premium baby and kids product collection at the Tickle Toe today! With our wide range of stylish clothing options, high-quality cotton rope baskets for room organization,and comfortablepotty training seats,you can provide your little ones with top-notch products that combine functionality and style. Trust The Tickle Toe as your go-to destination for all your parenting needs.

[bharatdori]

The Art Of Weaving: Creating Unique Patterns With BharatDori Furniture Cords

In the realm of outdoor furniture design, the choice of materials can significantly impact both aesthetics and durability. One material that has been gaining prominence for its versatility and strength is polypropylene ropes, particularly those manufactured by BharatDori, a brand under the esteemed Bharat Hosiery Factory (BHF). Known for their premium ropes and braided polypropylene lines, BharatDori has carved a niche in the market by offering high-quality materials that cater to the creative needs of furniture designers and DIY enthusiasts alike.

Understanding BharatDori and Bharat Hosiery Factory

Founded with a commitment to craftsmanship and quality, Bharat Hosiery Factory has been a stalwart in the manufacturing industry since 1960. Over the decades, they have expanded their expertise to include a range of products, with BharatDori emerging as a specialized brand focusing on polypropylene ropes. Situated in Delhi, India, Bharat Hosiery Factory prides itself on blending traditional craftsmanship with modern manufacturing techniques to produce ropes that meet stringent quality standards.

The Versatility of Polypropylene Ropes in Furniture Design

Polypropylene ropes from BharatDori are prized for their durability, weather resistance, and aesthetic appeal, making them ideal for outdoor furniture applications. Unlike traditional materials like wicker or wood, polypropylene ropes offer greater flexibility in design due to their ability to be braided, twisted, and knotted into various patterns. This versatility allows designers to create unique furniture pieces that are both functional and visually striking.

Braided Cord Manufacturers: Innovating with BharatDori

As braided cord manufacturers, BharatDori understands the importance of innovation in meeting the evolving demands of the furniture industry. Their product range includes ropes in different thicknesses and colors, catering to diverse design preferences. Whether used for weaving intricate patterns on lounge chairs or creating sturdy supports for outdoor tables, BharatDori ropes provide a reliable foundation for furniture that withstands the rigors of outdoor environments.

Designing with BharatDori Furniture Cords

Creating furniture with BharatDori cords is akin to weaving a tapestry of functionality and artistry. Designers can experiment with various weaving techniques to achieve different textures and patterns. For instance, a simple twill weave can add depth to a chair's seat, while a complex macramé knotting technique can elevate the design of a hanging swing. The inherent strength of polypropylene ensures that these creations are not only visually appealing but also durable enough to endure prolonged exposure to sunlight and moisture.

Steps to Incorporate BharatDori Cords in Furniture Projects

Choosing the Right Rope: Selecting the appropriate thickness and color of BharatDori rope based on the intended furniture design and environmental conditions.

Preparing the Workspace: Ensuring a clean and organized workspace with necessary tools such as scissors, tape measure, and a sturdy frame or base for the furniture piece.

Understanding Weaving Techniques: Familiarizing oneself with basic weaving techniques like twining, plaiting, and knotting to achieve desired patterns and textures.

Executing the Design: Step-by-step execution of the furniture design, starting from securing the ropes to the frame or base and carefully weaving them according to the chosen pattern.

Finishing Touches: Trimming excess rope, securing loose ends, and applying any necessary treatments or coatings to enhance durability and weather resistance.

Case Studies: Success Stories with BharatDori

Outdoor Lounge Set: A designer used BharatDori ropes to create a modular lounge set with adjustable backs and integrated side tables, blending functionality with contemporary design.

Garden Swing: A DIY enthusiast transformed an old swing frame using BharatDori cords, incorporating intricate macramé patterns for a Bohemian-inspired outdoor space.

Sustainability and Quality Assurance

BharatDori prioritizes sustainability by using eco-friendly materials and adhering to rigorous quality assurance processes. Each rope undergoes meticulous testing to ensure it meets industry standards for strength, UV resistance, and colorfastness. By choosing BharatDori ropes, designers contribute to sustainable practices in furniture manufacturing while enjoying products that are built to last.

Conclusion

In conclusion, BharatDori furniture cords represent a marriage of tradition and innovation in outdoor furniture design. Their polypropylene ropes not only offer practical benefits such as durability and weather resistance but also inspire creativity through their versatility in weaving techniques. Whether used by professional designers or DIY enthusiasts, BharatDori ropes from Bharat Hosiery Factory empower individuals to craft unique furniture pieces that enhance outdoor spaces with style and functionality. As the demand for sustainable and aesthetically pleasing outdoor furniture continues to grow, BharatDori remains at the forefront, providing premium materials that redefine the art of weaving in furniture design.

[valycandy]

I had a lot of fun doing this custom for R🤤! Don’t be shy and tell me your custom ideas💌!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

*gets on one knee and takes out a ringpop* Mr. Honest, I hereby humbly request consideration to be your one your only your Fellowife for life.

So tell me, do you wanna go?

“Whoa there! Stand up, bud—you’re embarrassin’ yourself.” Fellow grabbed you by the arm and yanked you back onto your feet.

(He quietly slipped the ring pop from your fingers and pocketed it. Thankfully, the massive red sugar crystal was dry and did not stick to his suit. Gidel would surely enjoy the sweet treat at a later time.)

More importantly, they're callin' too much attention to me! I can't exactly lift wallets if the people passing by are on high alert.

“Anyway, what’s this about ‘Fellowives’? First time I'm hearing of it."

“Y’see, sir!" you offered excitedly. "It's sort of like a fan club. We come together online to talk about how much we adore you, make creations in your name, that sort of thing."

“I’ve got a fan club?!” His voice spiked, turning almost shrill at fan club. “Why didn't you say sooner?! I'd very much like to meet and greet all of you."

Thaumark signs were already swimming in his eyes.

Th-This is a gold mine for passive income! If I can get in on this scheme, charge a monthly premium for membership... I could make it big on these suckers!!

"O-Oh! Really, sir?!" you asked hopefully, tearfully clasping your hands together.

"Of course, of course! There's plenty of me to go around, so no need to push and shove." An arm snaked around you, gripping onto your arm and roping you close. He jabbed a finger to your chest. “I just get the feelin’ we’ll all be the closest of chums!”

[lisenberry]

The mountain is you

Chapter 4: I'm scared to let go of what I'm scared to lose

Dom Price x Fem Reader

MDNI/NSFW/18+

CW: Dom/Sub, Bondage, Sex Work, Voice Kink, Size Kink, Oral Sex, Bathroom Sex, Mirror Sex, Boot Riding, Orgasm Denial, Possessive Behavior

(Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3)

AO3

No two sessions with John were the same.  You learned something new about yourself with each one. 

That the act of waiting could be so therapeutic.  Had you ever been so still as when he took his time looping ropes around your arms, breasts, ribs and waist?  Tying the intricate knots just right, in perfectly symmetrical patterns, carefully avoiding your neck and throat.  Reminding you to breathe, and hold your posture, in that voice that sounded so rough you wondered if it caused him pain just to speak. 

That a deep, dull ache that never wavered, no matter how you squirmed or struggled, could be as cathartic as a sharp, fervent strike.  When the bindings compressed your tissue and made your muscles throb with confusion.  Like your skin was too tight, and you’d burst from the pressure.  Until you finally broke through the building panic and let yourself melt into the fibers like well-tailored Chanel suit.

That being helpless wasn’t the same as being out of control.  That surrender wasn’t as much about giving up as it was giving yourself over to something else.  Someone else.  To trust that his patience was his gift to you, and that he didn’t ask for anything in return for a reason.  Maybe being there for you was enough for him. 

He’d certainly been greedy for your abandon.  Collected orgasms from you like they were precious stones, with his mouth and his hands.  Played your body like an instrument to be drummed and plucked.  Mouthed and blown.  Percussion, string, and wind.

All to make you sing.

Little deaths.  Little victories each. 

But it had you feeling a bit like a selfish Sub.  You listened.  You obeyed.  You cried.  You came.  But the more you played, the more anxious you became to give him some release.  Relief.  You wanted to see him taken care of, too.

You’d never bothered to explore new things with Ghost.  He’d had a list of services he offered, but you hadn’t been tempted to branch out from the standard package.  Anything extra, like temperature play or Shibari would cost a premium due to the additional time needed and the specialized skill they required. 

Anyone could spank your ass, you supposed, but you had to pay extra for the finesse.  Now, it seemed like you were getting it all for free.  Or perhaps John didn’t desire anything more from you.  It was simply a one-sided transaction for him, and he was just being nice.  A favor for his old friend. 

But you tried to shake those thoughts away when they threatened.  He’d promised that you’d always know what he wanted.  And never be left wondering what he was thinking.  There was no room for insecurity when he’d stuck to the book when it came to everything else.

And once each scene was over, you stayed a little longer.  After the first, when you’d practically run out the door like the building was on fire, he’d made a point to have food on hand that you could eat together.  Something tasty and satisfying sitting in his gigantic, high-end fridge waiting to be heated up in the microwave and eaten cross-legged on his couch.

Conversation developed more easily, and you weren’t too shy to talk about the things you liked the most (rope play, hot showers, barehanded spanking, his aftershave), and those you weren’t keen to try again (so far, blindfolds hadn’t added anything to the experience for you).  You found him to be funnier than you expected, with a wry sense of humor and an easy laugh. 

You always left feeling...secure. 

*****

The two men sitting across from you at the table of your go-to restaurant for closing deals with pushy potential clients were a father and son, CEO and VP team.  Your company offered a service that they needed desperately.  And they had the audacity to demand it at a cut rate.

They tried so hard to impress you with their staggering wealth and impressive portfolio, they must’ve forgotten that this was your job.  That you weren’t fooled by overwhelming displays of douchebaggery.  By smoke and mirrors.  Cutting through the bullshit was what you did best.

And as dinner went on, they piled it waist high.  Flung it around like monkeys at the zoo.  In the end, you just had to plug your nose and wade through it with patience and your head held high.

Fuck them, their rare car collection, their villa on Lake Como, and their 75-meter yacht.  You were ready to give in, to take the loss just to get them to stop fucking talking so you could go home and take off your bra.

The waiter had just brought over another round of drinks when you looked up to see John find a seat at a nearby table with an older couple who looked to be in their late sixties, and a beautiful woman in her early thirties.

It only took a second for his gaze to meet yours across the room.  It was exactly the type of situation you had avoided with Ghost.  That awkward breaking of the fourth wall when you ran into each other in the real world.  Outside the protection of your carefully curated sessions.

You tried not to stare, but it shook you more than you thought it would.  Part of your contract was that you’d be exclusive.  For safety purposes, you’d have no sexual partners outside of each other throughout the duration.  It was one of his hard lines. 

One you could easily keep.  Was it so hard for him?

He even had the gall to look angry, eyes darkening perceptibly even in the distance as he held up his phone briefly. 

A second later, you received a message on yours.

Meet me in the bathroom.  Five minutes.

Surely, he wasn’t serious.

Your companions were still talking away, congratulating each other on their mastery of the universe, as you quickly typed your response.

Wife or girlfriend?

Taking a sip of your water, you smiled impressively to the older man naming dropping who he was playing golf with over the weekend.  Taking great care not to turn back toward John, whose daggers you could feel as sharply as though they were lodged in your skin.

Sister.  Fucking the father or the son?  Or both?

You looked up at the dynamic duo and stifled the urge not to vomit a bit in your mouth.

Ick, no.  Clients.

There was a long pause before he responded, but you still didn’t look back at him.  His presence was too much for the room.  His hold on you too strong for polite company.  The vibration of the next message jolted you like a jump scare.

I gave you an order.

The blood drained from your face.  Your mouth went dry.  Your panties, on the other hand, seemed to catch both like a grounding rod of sensation.  Hot and slick.

Fine.  But don’t be nice, you typed, before adding.  Please.

You did look up then, just in time to see John nod once before excusing himself and disappearing down a long hallway.

“I’m getting the feeling that I’m being dicked around here, gentlemen.  I’m going to take a minute in the ladies’ room.  When I come back, if you don’t have a number ready that I can work with, I’m going to walk out that door and instruct my assistant to stop taking your calls.”

Not that she could anyway.  You were still working on that particular aspect of her job description.

But that, along with any other concerns, disappeared below the surface when you opened the door to the single restroom in the back of the restaurant.    

“Did you really just say ‘fine’ to me, like a whiney little brat?  ‘Don’t be nice’?  Hope you know what you’re asking for, sweetheart.”  He growled from the corner behind the door, just before he pounced on you like a panther in the dark.  Eyes flashing with a sort of calm, primal hunger.  The kind that waits, as long as it takes, despite the sweet smell of fear in its prey.  Despite the promise of how good it will taste.

You stumbled back out of instinct, only to hit the hard wall behind you.  Trapped.

“Yes, sir,” you stuttered.  Suddenly not really sure at all.

Outside of your sessions, text messages had been an open space.  Where you were free to object to somethings and discuss others.  Negotiate times and dates.  But as his hand spun you around gruffly and gripped your hip from behind, fingers just above your pubic bone while his thumb massaged deep circles where your ass met your spine, you realized you’d miscalculated somewhere.

You'd never thought of yourself as manageable.  Moveable.  You took up space.  You were a lot to handle.  No one ever called you “cute” or commented on how nicely you cowed and begged over their knee.  Not until him.

Not until you watched from the mirror above the cold, stainless steel sink as his other massive paw cupped your jaw.  This man made you feel like a ragdoll.  A toy.  A mouse trapped in the jaws of that big dark jungle cat.

"Just for me, aren't you?”  He raked teeth and stubble along your cheek.

You were boneless then, even more pliable under this sudden mean streak.  The hand at your jaw trailed lower, skipping past your throat and neck, and your head rolled backwards against his chest without its support.

It paused to slip under the fabric of your top and bra, to cup your breast and pull it free.  There was a primal hitch of breath in his teeth as he admired the way he could cover it all.  A stiff, darkened peak notched between his knuckles as he gave it a painful squeeze. 

“Use your fucking words.  I thought we’d been through all this.”  He didn’t sound like himself.  Patience had gone out the window somewhere and you scrambled to right yourself.

To get him back.

“Yes, sir.  All for you, sir.”  You met his eyes in the mirror in the way he trained you.  Wanting to be good.  “I’m sorry, I just—"

Another squeeze, tighter and concentrated on the bud of your nipple.  This time, the hiss was yours as the sensation rippled straight to your sex.

He was big enough to swallow the moon.  Eclipse the sun.  Envelope you into darkness.  There was nothing but the stars bursting behind your eyelids as his other palm slunk lower from your hips to the hem of your skirt. 

As stealthily as an avalanche of rocks and sand.  Abrading and disrupting everything in its path until it settled back up to the base of you. 

"Please,” you whispered, whimpered, on some foreign tongue that felt too big, too thick, to be yours.  

Because he was in your mouth.  Lips against yours, tongue pummeling inside. No affectionate peck, but an assault that promised to leave you maimed.  A kiss you’d never get used to.  One that would only consume you.  His solid body against yours from behind as he bent over you and arched you into him.

The grip you had on the sink felt strong enough to leave marks.  Dents.  Tiny little divots like bird prints in the snow.

"Open up, brat.  If you ever hope to fit the real thing, you still need more practice."

He found you wet, a small accommodation as you muttered a silent thanks to your nature.  Your brain needed him, and your body did its best to oblige.

"I want it.  Please, I’m ready."  He’d dangled what you desired most in front of you like carrot.  You’d get down on your knees and beg if you could only escape his hold.

"Maybe next time.  After you show me how good you can be."

His long, thick fingers disappeared three at a time, to the gnarled and swollen knuckles before your eyes in the mirror.  Knickers notched to the side and your skirt up around your waist.

The cry that slipped from your lips would’ve been heard across the restaurant if hadn’t had the clarity of mind to bite your tongue.  The satisfied huff from his could conjure magic.  Gods and monsters.  Things best left dormant. 

He liked it like this, you could tell.  Where you both could see in the stark, fluorescent reflection.  The dark hair of his hand reemerging from your depths silky and dripping with slick.

The glass was like a barrier, a window or a picture frame that kept you hanging just on the outskirts of real and make believe, as he circled those same fingers again and curled them back inside, tormenting your most vulnerable weakness.  

While his other still worried and bullied your poor nipple.  He stretched the offering of your flesh up to his mouth, biting and sucking until you bucked and writhed along his hand for more, more.  Just a little bit more.

He felt on top of the world.  And you were his puppet on a string.  Brought to life.

But in your mindless dash to reach the end of his rope, to plummet off the side into the wind, your backside hit against his rigid length.  Once again reminded of what you’d been denied.  What you were fighting for.

You leaned into it, ignoring your own pleasure to steal a chance at his.

But he spun you around so fast, his fingers leaving you cold and empty, that you teetered precariously before he could lean you back against the sink.

“Spoiled little bitch, always whining and going on.  Haven’t I been nice to you?”  His tone lightened, to the point of…regret?  “I’ll indulge you, then.  But will you like what you get?” 

"Yes, please, sir!”  You weren’t going to waste the kindness as you settled down in front of him.

The tile floor of the bathroom cold and hard on your bare knees.

“The only way you’re coming today is on my old boot,” he slipped his leg between yours, helpfully, giving you something to sit on and a needed friction along your unsatisfied folds, “while you fuck me with your pretty little face.”

Sir thought you were pretty, was the only message your horrifyingly needy Sub brain could hear.  You weren’t too deep in subspace yet, but if you weren’t careful, you’d need to be carried from the restaurant in his big, strong—

He interrupted your warring brains with the tip of his cock against your cheek and a warm, heavy hand on the back your head.  Not even enough pressure to guide you.  More of an anchor, as it tipped you back just enough to find his eyes.

Signal fires, burning bright.

Emboldened, you opened your mouth as you would for your inspection, flattening your tongue and waiting for him to test you.  Eager to please.

“Don’t look at me like that.  You’ve got the big brass now, don’t you, brat?  So, show me,” he taunted, the flesh bobbing heavily just out of your reach.

Tentatively, you moved forward, clutching the sides of his thighs for balance and licking out at the rosy meat in front of you.  You’d never expected to see it for the first time in the dingy bathroom of an overpriced downtown restaurant, but it was indeed massive.

He wasn’t being overly boastful in that you’d have trouble taking it unprepped.  As it was, your mouth could only work him in halfway, as you hollowed your cheeks and took him just to the point of gagging.

You could still breathe through your nose, and you weren’t choking yet.  You were doing okay, but that didn’t stop him from using that hand on your head to pull you back when your throat started to fight him.

“Easy, now,” a softening at the corners of his eye lids, as your own teared up at the intrusion. 

Somehow, you fell into a clumsy rhythm where he didn’t take any control and you focused on the enjoyment of him.  The smooth, salty skin of his dick along your tongue.  The rough loops of his shoelaces against your bare cunt.

And before you knew it, you were so close to coming that he pulled his foot away just in time for his cock to go rigid against your tongue.  

“Ah fuck, that’s good, sweetheart,” he muttered an oath to the ceiling.

You blinked your betrayal through dazed eyes and shuttered around nothing while he took his release all over your face.  By the time he milked the last drops along your chin, he paused only a second before wetting a paper towel in the sink to clean you up.

He tenderly wiped away the pearly ropes of his spend first, then the eye makeup that had smudged along your cheeks.

You didn’t look that bad, you thought, as you focused on yourself in the mirror and quickly put your tits away.  You were a bit wrinkled, and your nose was leaking snot like a puffy faucet, but no worse for wear.

“Tell those wankers you had an allergic reaction or something.  You’ll be fine,” he assured you as he found your lip gloss in your purse and moved to help you apply it.

You let him, with a reassuring smile of your own, before taking his hand along with the gloss.

“You all right?” you asked, needing to check on him.  You’d done something new.  Potentially crossed a line.  It mattered to you that he’d enjoyed it.

“Bloody grand,” he grinned in a way that made you believe him.  Left no shadow of a doubt.  “Now get out there and give them hell.”  He gave you one last once over before slapping your ass and sending you out ahead of him.

“Yes, sir.”

You left the restaurant on a high like you’d never felt before.  Your cunt ached, inside and out, and it hurt to swallow, but you’d closed the deal.  With your clients, and with John, too, in some way.

And you swore you heard him chuckle as you texted him to set up your next session on your way out the door.  He’d left you hanging without an orgasm. 

Not nice at all.

[jiminrings]

yoongi’s lullaby

pairing: yoongi x reader

wordcount: 13k

glimpse: there’s two things you can conclude from yoongi’s shapeshifting service: a) it’s great for his wallet, and b) it’s crushing for your heart.

alternatively, yoongi’s your best friend and soulmate, and you have to watch him fall in love over and over again.

[ 40% angst, soulmate au, yoongi is a capitalist (he shapeshifts and goes on fake dates then gets a load of money), fluff + wholesomeness, unrequited love (at first), f2l, self-deprecation, jealousy, YEARNING!!!, Redemption Arc I Promise ]

notes: this is part of the hlwwf universe :) and just like its predecessor, it’s also based on a song!! i haven’t felt this excited to write a fic in a while so i hope u love it as much as i do <3

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!!

Yoongi must be the universe’s reward to you for every good deed you’ve ever done.

When Yoongi lets himself to be roped into joining in your newest fixation, it must be your good karma because you sat front-row for each one of your younger siblings’ school events.

When he reminds you to drink your water and not skip your meals, even going so far as to deliver both to you as often as he could, it must be the universe’s payment to you for watering plants and going on that one (1) mandatory tree planting activity.

When he gives you all the credentials to log into his premium streaming platforms even without you asking, it must be fate’s way of thanking you for not making a fuss whenever a barista messes up your order or when a stranger cuts in line.

Yoongi is the good in your life and he has been ever since you were teens, reminding you of what you’ve worked hard for in life because when he wasn’t so busy going through the same hardships you did, he would be at the sidelines waiting for you to finish.

Or he could be someplace else without even sending a lousy text regarding his wellbeing nor his notice that he can’t be at your awarding ceremony tonight because he’s busy doing his job, serving as a reminder that Yoongi must also be the universe’s punishment to you for your missteps and lapses.

When he comes and goes into your apartment freely as treats himself to your newly-bought groceries, it must be retribution because you lost your temper on your college roommate once for eating the leftovers you’ve been craving since the night before.

When he salvages all the spare batteries you have lying around to power up his huge clock back at his apartment, therefore leaving you to eventually spend a rainy night without flashlights because of a power outage, it must be payback for lowering the temperature in your breakroom even with the sign that specifically tells you not to.

Whenever Yoongi mentions his shapeshifting “career” (he argues that it is) to you, a gift he had been born with and one he really maximizes to the fullest potential and profit, you’re reminded how much of it is a curse to you.

Yoongi must be the universe’s greatest reward and punishment for you at the same time because while he’s your soulmate and you spend almost every day with him — you have to see him fall in love with everyone else but you, over and over again.

“You should be splitting rent with me at this point. You’re always here,” you groan as soon as you spot him on your couch, barely escaping the grogginess you’re still in from having a long night. 

His presence isn’t surprising anymore given the time you’ve been with him and how this exact situation has already played out tons of times before (him breaking into your place because he doesn’t want to be alone, you blissfully clueless until you hear raccoon-like searching in your kitchen) — it’s more irking than it is surprising, especially when you wake up at the wrong side of the bed.

“Do you not want me around?” Yoongi laughs heartily, unwilling to wipe his grin off when you don’t react. “That’s what I thought.”

He’s already beaten you to the TV and while he hasn’t had breakfast yet because he thought that the least he could do is wait for you to wake up so you could make it and the two of you can eat together, he’s getting there anyway.

“What type of horrible soulmate kicks out their other half that hasn’t had breakfast yet at 8 in the morning?” he hums, a faux pout on his face that rubs you the wrong way. You’re still pissed at him for not showing up at your awarding ceremony last night for being the top developer in your tech company, his lengthy apologetic text before you went to sleep still not doing its full effects.

“You don’t wanna tread there,” you huff, crossing your arms. “I have a lot on my chest, Yoongi. A lot of hateful, vile, factual comebacks.”

“Exactly!” he exclaims, the smile on his face telling you that he’s taking this lightly; way more lightly than you’d like him to. “We’ve had this conversation a million times before, baby. Sometimes, people just aren’t meant to be,” Yoongi shrugs, his words embedded in you now from repetition alone. “Some soulmates are only platonic.”

“That’s what you want because you’re non-committal,” you hiss, the incoming headache you have for having this conversation too early in the morning making you sit yourself on the couch. Yoongi grins because he knows you won’t kick him out at this point, slinging an arm across your shoulders while you’re still glaring at him. “Your hustle or whatever you call it is falling in love with everyone but me.”

“Uhm, correction — it’s a career,” he tuts. “I have a gift, Y/N. What, I can shapeshift into other people and I’m not supposed to capitalize off of that?”

He had only started offering his services a little more than a year ago, a byproduct of his boredom and his producing internship at the music label falling through. It just came to him in a fever dream and a drunken suggestion from you, and one website domain purchase and a socialite with a lot of connections for a first client later, Yoongi quickly made bank.

SeeAndSaw’s a trial dating service led by Yoongi, one that would answer clients’ curiosities to whether or not they were compatible with a person, and that’s where his shapeshifting came in handy. His services continue to be used for a multitude of reasons, the most common one being to see if the client would match with their soulmates (or just a random person, he’s not particular like that) ahead of their meeting. He’s also become a handy instrument here and there, breaking up with people in his clients’ behalf because they were too guilty to do so, to becoming a stand-in for clients that needed to present someone to their families for occasions.

Yoongi acts far too casual to you and not only is its time’s fault, it’s also yours for keeping him around in any way you can have him, even if it’s just as a friend. 

“I keep professing my love for you every two weeks and I’m doing it now while you’re eating my leftovers. People would kill just to have a soulmate as dedicated as me,” you frown, slowly softening the more that you’re rendered awake. Yoongi’s right, you did have this conversation a million times before and it’s the realization of it all that perhaps, at rare times, makes it hurt less.

“We’ve had this talk before,” he sing-songs, digging into the carbonara you took home that he retrieved not even one minute later since you joined him on the couch.

“For someone who makes bank fake dating people, you sure do leech off of me a lot,” you grumble, effectively quietened when he shoves a forkful of pasta into your mouth.

“That reminds me,” Yoongi grins, building up to a dramatic gasp. “I love-…” 

He trails and trails and if only you didn’t know any better, you would know that Yoongi wouldn’t profess his love for you in your living room while you were still in your pajamas eating cold carbonara. Much less, Yoongi wouldn’t tell you at all that he loves you.

“I love doing that,” he agrees, disappointed for a second when you didn’t even react to him doing a cliffhanger about what or who he loves. “My treat for you this week is to get you a new mattress. You’ll be less grumpy in the mornings.”

“The mattress can stay for a little longer. Can you just get me a new alarm system please?” you say without missing a beat, having already thought long and hard about what make-up gift you wanted him to give you from missing out on your awarding ceremony. 

“Why? Are you okay? Did anybody attempt to break in?” Yoongi asks concerned, brows knotted in worry. He grunts under his breath, shaking his head. “I already told you to move into my apartment complex so many times. It’s much safer there.”

That’s also a conversation you’ve had a million times before, all circling back to your attachment to the first place that you bought with your own money. It’s not bad per se, it just looks like it when you show it side-by-side with Yoongi’s place.

“Oh. They already broke in,” you narrow your eyes, oblivious to the panic brewing in Yoongi.

“What the fuck? Why didn’t you tell me?! Are you-…” he rants, stopping himself when he sees the irony. “Okay, I get it. You’re not funny.”

You and Yoongi eat cold carbonara in total silence, save for his grumbles of how you should never joke about your safety and yours for how he should start chipping in for your bills if he’s gonna keep showing up like this.

Yoongi swears he doesn’t find you funny. He swears it on his life when a few days later, a guy is sent to your house to update your security system. There’s a couple hundred packages of additional manual locks, along with Yoongi’s letter of how he still doesn’t find you funny, amongst other things.

Please guard your home. Don’t let anybody else in except me.

- Yoongi

( ♡ )

Yoongi despises change.

He’s with the elderly when it comes to online menus in an actual, physical restaurant, annoyed by them to the point that sometimes he just walks out. He can’t help it that he wants a nice, slightly greasy, and good menu because it just goes to show how great the food would be. 

He hates whoever invented and continues to advertise white cooking equipment that’s beyond impractical, knowing to himself that he would disown any friends or family he’ll catch using them. You spent a good two seconds more looking at a white ceramic pot that one time when you were online shopping, and Yoongi’s never been more determined to hurl your phone to the floor.

Yoongi also hates overly-modified cars and overly-decorated phone cases, because as much as it isn’t his business, he firmly believes that sometimes there are things meant to be left alone.

His voicemail is still the same one he had back in college and his standard ringtone for everyone remains untouched — everyone but you.

Yoongi knows that he’s in charge of his time given his very successful career and he worked around his whole schedule just to grant himself the luxury of sleeping in today. He wants to have himself buried in his cold sheets for longer but it’s your call that overrides his phone on Do Not Disturb, shaking him awake quicker.

“Yoongi?” you ask, too wrapped up in your internal to-do list to notice that he answered at the second ring. “Help me please.”

“Spider family in your cupboards again?” he yawns, rubbing the sleep off his eyes. God, he hopes it’s not that again. He isn’t the biggest fan of spiders either but at your insistence (and threatening last time that you’ll ignore him for a week), he forced himself to swallow down the unease.

“No, I woke up late,” you hum, once again oblivious that you’re intruding on Yoongi’s plans. He doesn’t mind though; not at all. “I just got a text about my package and I accidentally used your address again. The front desk received it.” 

Yoongi’s address has already become your secondary one at this point, from food deliveries from staying over to parcels you made him receive because you wouldn’t be home at the time. You’ve gotten used to utilizing his address, his home, so much that you forget which is which sometimes.

“Can you sign off on it as me?”

You know potential and convenience when you have it within reach, and the both of you know that your best friend slash soulmate gets a sense of pride whenever you need to utilize his shapeshifting abilities.

“Okay fine. I’ll even talk you up as a future tenant here because you’re taking my advice and moving to my building, right?” he caves in even if it took nothing for you to convince him, putting on a shirt before finding his slippers.

“What, what? Yoongi, oh! You’re breaking up,” you make a half-assed attempt in avoiding the offer once again. You could afford it with the salary you have now but aside your attachment to the place you have now, being closer to Yoongi in this context would precisely be the demise of you. “Thanks, Yoongs. Bring the package with you when you come over.”

Yoongi’s filial when it comes to you, that much you’ve noticed. He may not be in love with you but his loyalty to you is as clear as day, much of a soulmate’s but not exactly a lover’s.

It’s supposed to be like clockwork when he picks up his parcels (yours in this case) from the front desk but there’s just something he belatedly realizes now, his mouth in a grimace when he has to pry off your package from the receptionist who was unabashedly asking where you were.

He didn’t know that every time this would happen, or in any case wherein you came by yourself to his apartment and therefore passing by the front desk, the sleaze would flirt with you.

“Joohyuk from the front desk always comes off strong, huh?” Yoongi snickers the moment he enters your place, handing you your stuff instead of tossing it like he usually would.

“Tell me about it. He doesn’t give me a break,” you snort, unfazed that he doesn’t greet you with a hi anymore because your current visiting set-up has been executed many times.

Yoongi doesn’t know what to do with the unhinged anger in his brain that unfolds because from your response alone, you’re used to it. You’re used to feeling uneasy and he hadn’t caught on earlier than he should’ve, the guilt weighing down on his chest.

“Hey,” he calls out, his tone leaving you no room for objections. “I’ll receive your packages from now on.”

( ♡ )

You don’t know how you keep holding onto Yoongi despite him grasping you from afar.

It’s a melancholy enough as it is to swallow at the end of the day that Yoongi’s yours but not in the way you want him to be, along with the great possibility that it would always be that way. You don’t heed the reminder when you’re with him and that’s almost everyday of your life, the ache that you’re the only one pining after him remaining as a dull thrum. 

He seeks you in seasons but you look for him in all weathers, the great search of when you’d finally amount more to him still coming up unanswered.

You can handle seeing Yoongi often with the cue that you’re only friends despite the initials on both your ring fingers saying otherwise. You can manage with introducing him only as your close friend to colleagues and acquaintances because you don’t want to end up with a long-winded explanation how he wants you but really doesn’t.

Yoongi can deal with your moony stares at him every once in a while and your professions of love, whether sober or drunken. On the same vein, you can deal with the rejection he serves you every single time.

The both of you are adults who can handle each other, one more high-strung than the other, and it’s only in moments like these that you reach your limit. You’re awfully too aware of how easy it is for Yoongi to work, to be in love with people he only knows vaguely.

“I don’t like to see you when you’re at work.”

You’re momentarily caught with panic when you see a stranger in your living room, only being caught up to date when he’s sprawled across your couch in the same way that Yoongi does, the very same shit-eating grin he has on for giving you a fright.

You don’t know the guy at all and you don’t plan to. You try your best to separate yourself from Yoongi’s shapeshifting business, most especially his clients and the extensions of them that he has to portray. You don’t even want to hear the stories behind his appointments even if he begs for you to hear him out because he just wants someone to talk to. 

The moment you fully accept that Yoongi would belong to everyone but you is the day that you rue him.

And in a longingly heartbreaking fashion, you don’t hate Yoongi — yet.

He momentarily changes back to himself, sneaking a look at his watch to see how many minutes he has more of annoying you before going on a date just two blocks away from your place.

“Why?” he whines, and in retaliation, changes back to the stranger. “I’m Hong Dusik. I’m from the countryside, moved back to the city to do stocks, and my dimples are literally embedded in there. I’m my client’s soulmate and it’s their first date next week but she’s shy and she’s nervous, so she’s having a dry-run with me first.”

Tuning Yoongi out has become a skill you continue to hone and while it isn’t foolproof just yet, it’s helped tremendously when you want nothing more than to kick him (or any form he takes) out.

“Nice.”

“You’re icing me out, sweetie?” his voice lulls, the sweetness behind it cloying until you remember that you don’t know the guy it belongs to.

“My god, your dimples are deep,” you murmur, clutching your bag to your chest. “Switch back, Yoongi.”

“Why? Dusik’s a nice guy.”

You kiss your teeth with the annoyance of a hundred days built up, gritting out your answer that makes him falter momentarily. “I’ve heard already, but I don’t plan seeing Dusik or any other stranger in my home.”

“Aw, you’re so loyal to your soulmate, whoever he may be,” he coughs, shifting back to himself. At any other day, Yoongi’s playful nature would be met with one of your sarcastic remarks but he doesn’t get any this time, the ghost of a frown accompanying his lips.

He’s admittedly nervous when you don’t play along with him, but his urge to sneak one last word in overtakes his trepidation.

“My advice to get over me? Bone it out. Get it out of your system. Soon enough, my initials would fade.”

Come to think of it, Yoongi’s advice isn’t all that bad.

“If Dusik and his girl don’t work out, just send him to me,” you nod, retreating to your room.

“Good! I’ll-…” he grins, satisfied with ticking you off until your words sink into him, the double-take that he makes giving him an ache on his neck. “What?” Yoongi murmurs, “I didn’t mean it that seriously.”

( ♡ )

In a parallel universe or in a different life, Yoongi actually lives with you. In that reality, you’re still soulmates and the difference is that he loves you back. He doesn’t have the ability to shapeshift and you don’t have to profess your love repeatedly either.

In a parallel universe or a different life, Yoongi’s cooking you dinner. Dinner would be just takeout from a drive-thru that he transfers to plates because the two of you barely ate the bourgeoisie food at your awarding ceremony. You’re still the top developer in your tech company, but the difference is that he’s there and you get to introduce him as your soulmate and not just a friend who coincidentally bears the same initials on your finger.

In a parallel universe or a different life, Yoongi is your soulmate before he is your friend. He doesn’t condense your love for him as a mere obligation. He doesn’t bat an eye at your confessions because in that reality, he’s the one who loves you more than you love him.

You don’t have that life though — what you have at the moment is Yoongi, your soulmate, not being able to see what was wrong signing you up for a dating app. You wouldn’t have known if not for the couple hundred notifications you receive in your personal phone that you left at home.

You wouldn’t be this angry if Yoongi could just accept that he went out of line.

“How many times do I have to say it over and over again?” you yell, hands flailing around helplessly. The smug look on Yoongi’s face remains, strengthened only by his stubbornness. “I love you and it’s just always been you!”

This is not the life you pictured with your soulmate. In your head, you don’t even see a particular space the two of you would live in. The home you see in your dreams is ever-changing, the layout of it never staying the same. The only thing that stays in the life you picture is Yoongi. Your Yoongi.

“Why can’t you put me in your choices atleast? We’re soulmates and you’ve been my only choice but I’m– fuck!” you exclaim, sucking in a sharp breath when you feel a momentary stab at your chest. “You don’t even consider me to be a potential girlfriend even if my initials are on your finger!”

In another world, Yoongi doesn’t look at you with a clenched jaw when you speak your mind. The two of you have grown sick at this conversation but the difference in your world now is that you’re beyond angry at him, the frustration unmistakeable when you look at him.

“Why can’t it be me, Yoongi?” you seethe, fists clenched tightly that your knuckles turn white. “For fuck’s sake, when can it be me? When can it be my turn? When do you pick me?”

Yoongi didn’t mean for you to be heated with him. It was a practical joke, only following through with the half-hearted advice he gave you when he showed up at your apartment as Dusik. 

He just wanted to prove a point that you don’t want to give up on him as much as he doesn’t want you to stop trying for him. It’s selfish, he’s selfish. And if only Yoongi could focus on how conceited he is rather than the anguish he feels about you being angry and upset at him, he would wipe off the arrogance from his face.

“I hate your job so, so fucking much. It looks pathetic to me even if I know you must enjoy it a lot,” you burst, saying your truth that you’ve tried to minimize in order to make way for his self-esteem. “Your business is to be these random people’s dream guy but you’re mine. You’re my dreamboat, my ideal guy, my person! I’m your soulmate but I feel like shit. Just utter, hopeless shit that you visit almost everyday because you don’t want to be alone!”

He can’t put it into words but in the simplest way he could put it, being alone feels like a punishment more than it is a solace. Yoongi lives alone and he can handle it, but him tolerating it doesn’t mean that he loves it. 

It’s always been you and him, one way or another. In the trench of your love, waiting for Yoongi to come around is worth it. In the shore of your doubts however, the novelty of having Yoongi is starting to wear off.

You make up your mind then and there, the ascent from your trench to your shore increasingly coming fast by the day.

“Leave. You’re not staying the night here.”

Yoongi breaks by then, a dry sob leaving his throat while he tries to plead with the resoluteness in your tone.

“What kind of-“

“What kind of soulmate throws out their other half in the middle of the night?” you interrupt, knowing that Yoongi only mentions your status when he’s desperate. “The kind that doesn’t want to be soulmates anymore.”

You sound the most casual you’ve ever been and Yoongi’s annoyed at you for it, his eyes narrowed into slits. He’ll oblige for the night, on his way to the door when he looks at you.

“With all due respect, Y/N, screw you. You don’t mean that,” he mutters, chest heaving up and down. He’s convincing you as much as he’s convincing himself. “You’re just angry, you’re sad, and you don’t mean that.”

Your back’s turned to him when he leaves, or atleast attempts to do so because he doesn’t want to make his exit when you refuse to even look at him.

“I mean it right now, let’s focus on that,” you chuckle, already turning off the lights in the apartment without sparing a single glance at him. “Go away, Yoongi.”

( ♡ )

Unsurprisingly, you find Yoongi at your house the next day when you come home from work.

He probably has your key fob microchipped on him nowadays, your huge fight from last night not being enough to deter him from coming over. He’s a stubborn and mostly annoying stain you have in your life at the exact second, the two of you unwilling to apologize to each other.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you mutter, rolling your eyes when you set your bag down on the counter. You’re on a time crunch, the window you have of preparing yourself to look divine already closing down steadily.

“The fuck are you doing home?” Yoongi retorts just for the sake of it and simply because he wants to keep the conversation (if it was even called that) going, trying to ignore the fact that he totally bombed his comeback and makes up for it by staring at your leftover dumplings on his plate.

You’re busy fending for yourself, your eyes too preoccupied in rolling to the back of your head that you fail to notice Yoongi’s puffy with all the crying he did last night. You ignore him and go straight to your bedroom, not having enough time to multitask showering and fighting with him.

You’ve already went through your entire routine and dressed yourself up, the frustration in you only skyrocketing up when Yoongi’s still there in your kitchen.

“Either get out or move out of my way,” you say as you retrieve yourself a snack from your cupboards to munch on while you multitask, intentionally bumping your shoulder with him in the process. “I’m going out on a date.”

Yoongi heavily sighs, his fork clattering on the plate loudly. He tries to keep his emotions at bay because this is all his fault, the fight in his body tensing his shoulders.

“You’re lashing out.”

“I’m not lashing out,” you argue, looking at the clock to see if you could still fit in fighting with Yoongi between spraying your perfume and meeting your date by the front door. “Lashing out would be me bringing my date home and fucking him loudly in my room.”

He stabs the dumplings a little too harshly and a little too unnecessarily, fitting two in his mouth while clenching his fists because he knows a nasty remark is just bubbling to be said.

Yoongi’s being childish and your patience has already run thin to deal with him especially when you’re mad, the huff that leaves you sounding extremely personal.

“What are you even doing here? Go back to your house.”

“My appointment’s just at the next block. Your place is closer.”

“You could’ve just driven there directly instead of camping out here.”

Yoongi sarcastically smiles, his eyes in crescents as he makes a show of tilting his head. “Can I notspend time anymore with my best friend? My soulmate, even?”

“Stop saying the s-word,” you grit. “Don’t say that when I bring Jimin home.”

The resounding tension that envelopes the two of you finally snaps, manifesting into a scoff from Yoongi so offended and loud that it resonated in your apartment like a clap of thunder. 

“Jimin from high school? You’re exes for a reason, remember?” he exclaims, eyes blinking in disbelief because he figures he must’ve heard you wrong. “He broke up with you when he went abroad for college because he can’t do long-distance. What makes you think he’ll give you the time of day this time?”

None of his words register in your head, blissfully letting them fly over. Jimin only invited you to catch up and you obliged; it’s not like you didn’t have years of love amongst yourselves to shroud yourself in anonymisity. Plus, it’s not like he asked you to try again with him — it’s dinner. Just dinner.

“He’s already outside. Also, it’s clearly a short distance this time.”

“Don’t be smart with me,” Yoongi scoffs, standing up abruptly with his arms across his chest. “I’m gonna barricade the door if you come home with him.”

“Good. I can come home with him to his place.”

“I’ll barricade his door,” he retorts without even thinking, his brows knotted in exasperation.

“Go fuck yourself,” you narrow your eyes at him, letting your glare at him linger until you get to the front door. “While I fuck Jimin.”

“You’re so-“

Yoongi points an accusing finger at you, unable to finish his sentence now that you’ve left. You’re stubborn.

If he’s being honest, the thought of you merely giving Jimin the time of day makes him uneasy. It puts a void on his stomach and an even larger cavity in his chest.

And if Yoongi’s being more honest, he doesn’t even have an appointment nearby. He just wanted to be with you whichever way he can.

( ♡ )

Yoongi used to hate crossfit.

He hated even the concept of it because the trainers for it at the gym have a superiority complex when talking about it as if it was revolutionary; as if launching yourself a feet into the air while doing push-ups from point to point was groundbreaking.

Even his friend, Jungkook, knowsjust how much he hates it. He didn’t particularly have a preference when it comes to working out, but Yoongi’s random and unprovoked hate for random things is starting to rub off on him. They both hate crossfit… right?

Jungkook doesn’t know how to react when he sees Yoongi doing pull-ups with one hand diagonally while a kettlebell’s on the other. He doesn’t know what to feel seeing him agitatedly do push-ups while wearing a weighted vest and with his feet up on a medicine ball. 

Jungkook, for a fact, does not know what his cue should be when he sees Yoongi running 24kph on a treadmill with his eyes fixated on the phone in his hand, although he’s about 99% sure that this is not exactly crossfit.

He’s known him for years now and there’s barely anything between them that they don’t know about each other. Jungkook, however, doesn’t know the threshold of Yoongi’s emotional constipation, slightly concerned when he sees his friend’s mind drift elsewhere.

“Yoongi, are we okay there buddy?”

“Huh?” he squints, looking up from his dessert which he’s just been staring at the past two minutes.

Jungkook clears his throat, vaguely mentioning to the poor utensil in his hand. “You’re bending the fork.”

“It was already bent when you handed it to me,” he weakly counters, setting the metal down without much concern.

“I uhm, I really don’t think so.”

Yoongi only supplies with him a scowl and normally, being the filial and nosey friend that he is, it was cue for him to inquire what was going on. Jungkook likes including himself and it’s one of the numerous things he has in common with Yoongi, but it was clear as day just how differently it manifests for each of them.

Yoongi’s only been staring at the mocha crepe cake because he knows he would be incessantly interrupted by Jungkook once he started eating it, but come to to think of it, the younger hasn’t asked him even once.

He narrows his eyes at him, crossing his arms with a sly look to his face.

“What are you waiting for? I know you’re dying to ask me.”

Jungkook scoffs, rolling his eyes so passionately that Yoongi saw you in him for a second. “No, you’re dying to be asked. It’s always like this! You want to get something out of your chest but you always need me to ask first and then you pretend like you don’t like it.”

His face is far too straight and he got to the point really quickly with his delivery, his posture standing straight at the unimpressed look Yoongi gives him.

“Sorry. Your emotional constipation’s rubbing off of on me,” he hums sickeningly, batting his eyes. “Yes, Yoongi? What seems to be on your mind?”

Not even a second goes by before Yoongi breaks, his shoulders falling in recollection. “It’s Y/N. You already know my deal with her.”

“Of course I do. Aren’t we basically the same?” Jungkook tilts his head in thought. “Longtime best friends with our soulmates but the only difference is that the two of you knew at the beginning?” he continues, mixing his drink with his straw just to cushion the impending blow this conversation might inflict on him. “And uhm, that you spend every waking moment refusing her but magically, your friendship isn’t ruined over it?”

“You go on and on like an audiobook.”

He’s not the least bit offended because he does have the voice for it, but it wasn’t so audiobook-ish of him when his hands flail and his voice pitches in remembrance. “Oh also, you’re a shapeshifter! Poor Y/N has to watch you date all these people except her.”

“Which side are you on?” Yoongi looks down on his feet, the sigh that leaves him slowly weighing as much as the conflict in his mind. “There’s one more difference, by the way. I think she’s making me jealous.”

Now, Jungkook doesn’t flatter Yoongi all too much because his ego outnumbers his and that’s coming from him! But this is the one time that Jungkook has to hand it to him, his friend’s delivery and impeccable timing giving him the best chuckle he’s had this week.

“She’s intentionally making you jealous? God, Yoongi. Are we skimming over the fact that maybe she’s just grown sick of you?”

“You don’t get it!” he whines. “She’s entertaining her ex from high school. This stupidly blonde, stupidly genius, stupidly always available guy named Jimin! What a stupid name too. Seriously, he’s so-…”

The café’s well-lit and the acoustics are good too but there’s just this one cloud that forms above Jungkook when Yoongi mentions Jimin’s name, his brows suddenly furrowing in annoyance.

“Jimin?” he clarifies. “Jimin who?”

“This isn’t a knock-knock joke.”

The urge to smack Yoongi would always be larger than Jungkook’s intent to be the bigger person, his curiosity bursting at the seams. “What’s his family name, you idiot?”

“Why does it matter? You don’t know him anyway. It’s Park Jimin,” Yoongi rolls his eyes as he soothes the side of his head, equally as annoyed now. 

The gasp coming from Jungkook alone shushes the entire café, his eyes as expressive as ever and his voice even louder, forcing Yoongi to sink further to his seat until the onlookers take their eyes away from the table.

“You’re joking me!” he booms, running his hands though his hair in a frenzy. “Guy from Busan, stayed until high school, then went to Harvard for college?”

“How do you know him?” Yoongi questions but at this point the how doesn’t matter as much as the why, his friend’s expression enough to keep him at the edge of his seat.

“Because he tried poaching my soulmate too!” Jungkook exclaims, pausing between words because he’s still speechless. “It’s this long story. We’re distant family friends, then I almost lost my bond, then-…”

Yoongi shushes him, putting up a hand for the both of them to stay on track. “Can we get back to me? Can we put a pause on the Jungkook and soulmate show?”

They’re a duo of insufferable people, one more self-absorbed and insufferable than the other. Jungkook sees much of his past self in Yoongi despite the latter being older, the irony of the situation rendering him breathless.

“What do I do about Jimin? Surely, he has a soulmate and it’s definitely not my Y/N,” Yoongi desperately asks for advice even if he thinks it’s beneath him, rubbing his face with his hands.

Jungkook thanks the universe and his soulmate for shaping him to be a better person because he could now hear what he used to sound like back then and by god was he emotionally constipated.

“My Y/N?” he mimics. “Let’s get you back to bed, uncle.”

He makes the internal reminder to get Yoongi away from crossfit because the punch that lands on his thigh is definitely powerful, making him wince loudly that once agains puts the both of them at the center of attention.

“Ow! What?! You can’t just refuse to be a thing with Y/N but then gatekeep her the moment she entertains another guy. That’s not how it works, believe me! I’ve literally been there before.”

Yoongi can hear Jungkook, but he doesn’t exactly understand.

He’s not oblivious to continue refusing the parallels between him and Jungkook but surely, the way it worked out for his friend means that it would for him too, right? 

He’s in denial but he’s not there at the stage yet where he actually acknowledges that he is, stuck in the realm of hope that you’re not sick of him yet.

“Okay what if– what if we try to find out who this Jimin’s soulmate is? Look for them, pluck just one strand of hair, and I shapeshift into them? Then I’ll tell him to back off from other people and only focus on his soulmate!”

Jungkook winces, scratching his head. “That’s wrong. And unethical. You have so many things to unpack, Yoongi.”

“It’s not my fault I can shapeshift!” he exasperatedly sighs, briefly mirroring Jungkook by shifting to him just to prove a point.

“It’s your fault that you’re this constipated to be willing to go to great lengths just to steer Y/N away from Jimin!”

“What do I do then?” Yoongi groans, plunking his head onto the table. He doesn’t even have to raise his head for Jungkook to know that he’s nearing a dead end, his hope about to run out sooner or later. “What did you do?”

“I woke up. Figured I was too self-absorbed back then to realize that it’s always been her for me.”

Jungkook shakes his friend, prompting him to start eating the crepe cake he treated him to but refuse to eat because he’s still wallowing in worry over where he stands with you.

“Wake up, Yoongi,” he sighs, looking down on the markings on his own ring finger that he thanks the heavens for every single day. “The universe works in mysterious ways.”

( ♡ )

Yoongi prides himself for having 20/20 vision.

He’s always boasted about his vision not deceiving him even once, the constant praise whenever he gets his yearly check-ups fully seeping into his head.

He’s neither suffering from a hangover nor vertigo. Yoongi’s mind is in a sound and safe place which is why he doesn’t get how it could be playing jokes on him now, the most crucial of times he’s been going through with you.

Your soulmate mark has completely disappeared.

It simply cannot be true to how his initials disappeared overnight and you just woke up one day to see that they’re gone. Yoongi’s hand is gripping yours tightly as if you’d suddenly disappear too, the glare he has at your ring finger vacant and unnerving at the same time.

“It’s blank. Oh my god, it’s completely blank,” your eyes can’t seem to believe it too, a silent gasp leaving you in shock.

You’ve already said your piece but it’s not what Yoongi’s looking for. You’re not as distraught nor panicked as he is and he knows right there that you’re only fucking with him, making him sigh in exhaustion.

“It’s obvious why you didn’t study liberal arts,” he mutters, rubbing your finger furiously. It makes absolutely no sense when not a single hint of his initials peek through, the worry over his lack of a mark on you growing by the second.

“Huh?” Yoongi says under his breath, his pursuit of trying to get your stint to budge leading him closer to you to the point that your foreheads almost bump when he looks to you. “Okay, what’s the secret? You used pot concealer instead of liquid? You color-corrected? Tons of setting spray?” he tries, licking his lips that turned dry in exasperation. He’s running out of ways you could’ve executed this, mind turning up empty. “You uh, you got it tattooed over with your exact shade match?”

The dread that fills Yoongi is liquid hurt. It builds up from droplets and takes form wherever it flows, turning murky in contained and neglected spaces. He can’t move on from the hurt that’s in his chest when he glances at your empty ring finger and then to his that still has yours; that still links you to him, yet unreciprocated.

“Why is it not budging?” 

“You’re rubbing all the way to my bone,” you chuckle, unable to read the anxiousness behind his tone. He looks disturbed even, lips parted with no explanation coming to mind.

“You’ve got me, Y/N,” he painfully chuckles, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. He bites too hard that he draws blood, eyes flickering ever so often. “Where did you hide the cameras this time?”

“Yoongi, I’m telling you! It’s really blank!” you chuckle but not as easily as the last time, sensing the atmosphere in the room that only favored you but not him. “Quick, walk into the wall. Let’s see if I feel it!”

He doesn’t know how you still have it in you to joke. He doesn’t know how you’re not panicking and as much as he’s figured that this is only one of the rare times where the universe favors you, he didn’t know it would result to this.

“First, I’m not walking into a wall. Second, you stop lying to me.”

“I’m not lying! I’m really serious!” your hands raise in defense, taking a step away from him. The starting notes of your laugh start to build but it never comes out fully because Yoongi interrupts you with a bitter laugh, throwing his head back in frustration.

You’re laughing. You’re unfazed and you’re laughing at Yoongi being at the end of his rope, his worry over losing his soulmate turning unrequited.

“Well then congrats on not having me as a soulmate anymore. I’m so happy for you!”

“What’s with the attitude?” you raise an eyebrow at him, scoffing in retaliation. It had only been lighthearted (for you, atleast) awhile ago and perhaps, maybe even humorous. You didn’t expect that he would receive the news like this at all. “No, congratulations to you, Yoongi, because you’ve been whining for years how you don’t want me and now you finally got it!”

The truth you say has been Yoongi’s for the longest time and the old him would’ve been thrilled because you finally got it. You finally got where he’s coming from and he didn’t need to deal with you pining after him but now that the realization comes here, one that you say to his face — it doesn’t feel good at all.

“Yeah, and I know and regret that now because I didn’t actually think the universe would listen!” his voice raises, pointing at his chest. “Fuck me for not thinking that the universe would stop to listen to my half-hearted wishes, am I right?”

“You’re right. Fuck you, actually!” you agree in spite, practically spitting your next words. “You’re so conceited. Why are you turning on me the moment you get what you thought you wanted?”

Yoongi doesn’t get it too.

He doesn’t get how he lets the flaw of his own insistence slip through his fingers so carelessly. He doesn’t even know what he wanted in the first place and it terrorizes him to know that he might just never know why, the answer for it only seen as a distant memory of you.

He doesn’t get how long he’s retained his insistence of preserving his safety zone by trying to deter you from loving him, when in reality, you’re the epitome of security itself. He didn’t think it through at all.

Yoongi didn’t think when he spent the past few years of his life rejecting your confessions and proposals in every opportunity that he could. Didn’t even leave you hanging from a thread of hope at all that he’d like you back; just a clean, straight refusal.

He didn’t stop to consider that the universe works in mysterious ways, because if he did earlier, he would’ve prayed to make you stay despite not being the type to get on his knees at all.

“Because I didn’t actually think we would stop being soulmates! I didn’t think that there’d be a reality where we aren’t together!” his voice cracks, his hands trembling at his sides. “It’s always been us, Y/N. I’ll always want you around.”

“Do you just want me around or do you want me?” you ask, the silence that follows after it being an accumulation of the ones you’ve had to spent alone when he rejected you. “I can’t be the background noise in your life, Yoongi. Not anymore. Y-yes, I know there are soulmates that are meant to be platonic but I don’t want that,” you stress, the tears springing to your eyes. “I can’t have that.”

It’s an ultimatum you didn’t know you would ever make at all.

“It’s either you have me as your soulmate or you don’t have me at all,” you say in strength, your thumb hovering about the ghost of his initials on your finger. “I can’t stand being your friend anymore.”

“You’d throw that away?” Yoongi croaks, taken aback. “You’d throw that– us away after all this time?”

“I would.”

“Your initials are still on my finger,” he reminds, sniffling as he pushes his hair back. This can’t be. You seriously can’t be posing this ultimatum to him, one that would determine both his present and future.

“Yours aren’t on mine,” you shot back. The lump on your throat is far too large to even swallow, each breath you take making it harder for you. “For the love of god, Yoongi, can you not deflect?” 

Yoongi’s the most panicked that he’s ever been in his life and in your surprising and rarely selfish nature, you don’t even pause.

“This is a big decision, Y/N! Can’t you please just give me some time to think?”

“No. You’ve had enough time to think when you’ve been stringing me around for years.”

The hurt that bubbles up in Yoongi comes like a riptide, unsuspecting yet just as devastating. There’s no pause between his words, much too smooth and articulate for someone who’s as panicked as he is now. They’ve stayed at the tip of his tongue before and lingered in the back of his mind even longer.

“I can’t think because I’m not sure about you, Y/N! I’m not sure if I’ve always kept you around because I want us to be more like soulmates than we are as friends,” he sobs. “I don’t know if I can love you how you love me.”

The liquid hurt in Yoongi’s bones solidifies but yours evaporates. It should hurt for you — you know that it should pain you the most now. You wait and you wait for the hiss before the sting but it doesn’t come. 

The weight lifts off from you instantly and you don’t even know why or how it happens. Whatever it was though, you let it carry your burdens for you. You only painfully nod, leaving Yoongi in your own house.

Yoongi can’t love you the way you love him — it’s the answer you’re looking for now, and it’s the same answer you swallowed down when you first professed your love for him years ago. 

.

.

.

Jimin didn’t expect you to report back to him this quickly and this late at night to say the very least, his sleepiness being pushed back when you stand at his door.

You slur the words but you’re not even drunk with alcohol. You’ve walked the long way to Jimin in order to take off your mind from your fight with Yoongi but there was just something n your system, one that made you even forget who you were fleeing.

There’s no Yoongi that comes into your mind during your walk, in fact, you were starting to think that the name didn’t even make sense to you because you couldn’t put a face to it. All you knew was where you’re going and who you were going to — only Jimin.

The more you walked and the more you came closer to Jimin, it was only him that filled your mind. In fact, you didn’t even know where you came from at this point, the details a blur in your head except for Jimin who’s standing in front of you.

“It worked. He bought it.”

It’s the last words that Jimin heard from you before you quite literally froze up, eyes closing solemnly despite standing upright until you open them again, the glaze behind it shining brighter the more you looked at him.

“Jimin, my love,” you drawl, squealing in delight as you launch yourself to him in a hug. “What a handsome soulmate I have.”

Jimin flushes at the realization, frozen in his position as he only puts his hand at the small of your back, patting you in comfort.

He needs some pen and paper, his notes, and the brainpower to calculate his next decision.

( ♡ )

Yoongi makes no move to drive himself home.

He doesn’t even have the willpower to leave from where you left him, his knees giving in to situate himself on the couch where he could sink further in his self-loathing. He has half the mind to recognize that you need the space, especially tonight, even if it means leaving the comfort of your own home because he (your demise) was there.

He doesn’t know anything, other than the fact that he’s repulsive and he wants nothing more than to go seek you but he doesn’t know where he should start; if you would even want to see him in the event that he finds you.

He considers calling your phone and at this point, he’d be contented even with the line ringing or you declining. Yoongi stays rooted in your house as a placeholder that he doesn’t even know you would be acclimated to having, stuck in the very space with no purpose at all.

He’s waiting for either you or a miracle and both revolve around him being able to see you for just one more time, then another, then again and again after so. He’s waiting for you and only you, and he didn’t even think you would come through the door in first place — much more with someone else.

The door beeps open and Yoongi launches himself from where he sat, his stance protective the moment his eyes land on you and Jimin.

The guy is just as shocked to see Yoongi of all people, lips parted open in surprise. Jimin’s just about to ask Yoongi what the hell he’s doing here in the first place but he’s cut off when you grumble against his neck, forgetting momentarily that you were clinging to him by the hip the whole time.

“What are you doing with Y/N?” Yoongi questions, taking large steps towards the both of you. There’s practically smoke coming off from the top of his head, his fists clenched at his sides,

“Taking her to her room, obviously,” Jimin scoffs, attempting to dodge past Yoongi with you in tow but to no avail, the latter’s arm outstretched.

“She’s drunk.”

“She’s not,” Jimin insists, punctuating his desperation.

He moves past Yoongi this time but he doesn’t get far at all, his arm being wrung tightly. His hand awaits on your back out of instinct, the whiplash putting the both of them on edge.

“Hey, buddy, Y/N’s drunk.”

Jimin groans, prying Yoongi’s hand off him just as easily as he clamped it. “She’s not drunk! Not in that way, atleast,” he mutters, putting you closer to his chest that sets off Yoongi further. “Just back off.”

“What do you mean not in that way?” Yoongi bursts, his vision darkening. He sets out a hand once again to get you away from Jimin, his hold on you much gentler. “Asshole. I said don’t-…”

“She’s drunk, but not actually drunk!” Jimin caves, pinching his nosebridge but not before swatting away Yoongi’s hand. The latter belatedly realizes that Jimin’s not even holding onto you to keep you steady, it was purely you clinging to him. Jimin can’t put it into proper, technical terms because he’s always known that Yoongi isn’t his equal ever since high school, dumbing it down the best as he could that it physically makes him shudder.

“She’s drunk… in love.”

“What?” Yoongi squints, his face contorted into confusion and disbelief at the same time. “Are you high?”

“I’m not high. I mean it!” he groans, throwing his head back. He looks at you while you slip in and out of consciousness, his thumb underneath your chin to get you to look up. “Y/N’s literally drunk in love.”

You being attached to Jimin doesn’t make sense. What Jimin’s saying now isn’t making sense. You immediately coming to your ex, Jimin, after your fight with him doesn’t make any sense. None of everything that’s happening is making sense and Yoongi’s head is bound to erupt any time, the migraine forming in his temples giving Jimin a smaller window to explain.

“My friends and I made this drug for our company’s upcoming breakthrough and Y/N volunteered to try it out.”

“You drugged her?!” Yoongi yells, eyes wide and furious.

“I think you have selective hearing,” Jimin grits, offended at the insinuation. “It’s this drug that’s supposed to temporarily desensitize you to your soulmate, okay? It worked because clearly your initials are gone from her.”

None of them should be making sense but it does. It scares Yoongi that this whole thing could be condensed down to an explanation because it only makes it much more real; much more vulnerable.

“So I’m still her soulmate?” he asks with a lump on his throat, his rage simmering down back into sadness.

“Yeah, unfortunately,” Jimin snorts, running a hand through his hair. “It’d last for a week but we have yet to know all of the possible side effects,” he kisses his teeth, going through his internal checklist. “So far, we found out that although it desensitizes a person towards their soulmate,” he trails, perhaps a little bit amused if he was saying the truth. “They cling to the first person they see.”

How awful, Yoongi thinks.

“Y/N’s drunk in me,” Jimin announces with a grin. “She thinks I’m her soulmate.”

You’re waking up little by little and Jimin figures that your unconsciousness is only temporary and a one-time thing, considering that you’re back to trying to entangle all of your limbs with him in an eager embrace.

“Snap out of it, Y/N,” Yoongi says outloud to you, completely disregarding that Jimin’s still in the room.

He even makes a move to try and pull you away from him but to no avail, his interruption only making you raise an eyebrow at him. You look at Yoongi from afar despite being near and it’s haunting, the tilt in your head giving your sentiments away.

“Who are you?” you question genuinely, brows furrowed slightly. You turn back to the person you know most in this room at the moment, who’s none other than Jimin. “Who’s he, Jimin?”

“You don’t know this guy?” he questions, his mind computing rapidly.

“Not at all,” you confirm, not sparing a single glance back at Yoongi.

There’s a tense silence because all that Yoongi could hear now is the fuzz in his brain and the pulsing of his heart, his chest deflating in anguish.

“You promise me? You don’t know this guy at all?” Jimin confirms to you once more, assessing you deeply.

“I promise. I’d never lie to you,” you say with a frown, both of the guys knowing that from your tone alone, all you’re saying is the truth.

Jimin takes it down quickly, his tone more somber and less hostile than before.

“That’s another side effect then. Not only can it desensitize, but it also makes you forget about your soulmate completely.”

The two of them are talking as if you’re not in the room with them but it doesn’t make a difference otherwise because you’re only focused on Jimin, your eyes all endeared just by the silhouette of him alone.

Yoongi can’t will his mind to focus on just one thing, his frustration coming off as a strangled yelp.

“You’re shitting me! Make an antidote or something!”

“We still have to wait out the whole week.”

“It’s like you’re just asking me to slap you!” he grits, hand outstretched already yet retreating when Jimin mocks him in return, pointing at you whose head is turned from Yoongi. Of course, you think Yoongi’s your soulmate — of course you’d shower him with affection.

“Can you guys be any louder? I wanna sleep. Please take me to bed,” your attention’s only turned to Jimin, the guy nodding earnestly.

He’s about to coax you into your room when a voice cuts into the air, an eager tap being placed on your shoulder.

“I’m Yoongi.”

You look back at the guy who introduced himself, a smile on his face that doesn’t quite reach his eyes but looks like he’s just begging to be given a sliver of attention.

You don’t mind him though.

“Hi, Yoongi,” you curtly respond, turning your back on him. “Take me to bed, Jimin.”

( ♡ )

Your vocabulary’s not affected by Jimin’s experiment at all, except for the fact that the word you utter most is his name and barely Yoongi’s.

He neither came home nor went to sleep, his mind not being granted even a single second of rest because all he can think about how this is only a mere, flawed glimpse of what you would be like if he wasn’t your soulmate anymore and it’s terrifying. It puts goosebumps onto his skin and instills the fear of fate on him, obvious by the way he’s only been functioning long enough for the past hours for the sake of reliving the same alternate reality again and again.

You come out of your room and there’s still that same dazed look on your face, eyes less crazed but more yearning. Yoongi awaits any reaction from you that would lead him to think everything that’s happened in the last 24 hours is only a figment of his imagination.

It’s early in the morning but the sorrow from the evening already hits you through a frown, your eyes darting everywhere.

“Where’s Jimin?” you ask, shaking your head. “Why am I still here?”

“You live here,” Yoongi answers, keeping his hands to himself. He begrudgingly makes the internal note to relay your momentary forgetting to Jimin later even if talking to him is the last thing he’ll ever want to do.

You gasp then, eagerly nodding your head because that one piece of information definitely traces back to you. “Oh, right,” you nod, your lip curling once again. “Why are you here?”

Yoongi’s not sure how he should answer that.

He’s unsure if he should answer that he’s here and stayed the night because he was worried sick about you after your fight, almost driven to passing out in overwhelm especially when Jimin brought you home.

He doesn’t know if he should say that in your home because it’s only rational since you’re soulmates, and that he dislikes being alone, and that being with you calms him down an infinite amount; if he could just skim over the fact that you barely have any recollection of him and will continue to do so for the next week.

Yoongi can’t determine to whether or not he should tell you that he wants to spend every second with you because should be the precursor for you to believe that you don’t want him anymore, he’s left with a memory of you, no matter how painful.

“Because I live here too,” he says a half-truth, trailing off in remembrance of you nagging him to go back to his house.

“We live together?” you question once again, your face contorted in confusion. “Why?”

You don’t even mean malice with it and Yoongi knows that exactly, the bit of realization even more painful because he knew that you would question him with snark and tears otherwise. In your foggy, Jimin-centric brain, it doesn’t make sense why you and Yoongi practically live together.

Because we’re soulmates, he wants to answer.

It’s the same question he asks himself because he doesn’t know how you let him either — when in reality, he already knows why and it’s because you love him. The even bigger question is if he was even deserving of you.

“Because we wanted to,” Yoongi leaves it at that, clearing his throat as he pushes a plate towards you that he put together on short notice. “Here’s breakfast. This is your favorite.”

You don’t even move to thank him curtly, head tilting in curiosity. You have all the questions yet he doesn’t know if he has all the answers, his heart hurting whichever way he addresses you.

“But why do we want to live with each other?” 

“Because we care for each other.” (Read: because we’re soulmates and because we’ve been friends and soulmates our whole lives and I don’t ever see us parting.)

You nod at Yoongi’s brief answer, stuck in staring off to space for a couple of seconds before you swallow down everything.

“Oh,” you hum somewhat satisfied. “You know where Jimin is?” you open a new line of questioning this time, tone picking up more. “Do we live with him or is it just the two of us?”

Jimin’s testing out his method of withdrawing himself this time, living out the remainder of the week by not making any contact with you and assigning Yoongi to report back to him. He’s not even meant to say everything to you in technical terms, knowing that he has to make up lies the whole week regarding Jimin’s whereabouts.

It’s only and should be a simple, trivial question regarding your living situation but Yoongi can’t help the hiccup that builds in his chest, heart heavy with nothing he can do about.

“Just the two of us,” Yoongi mutters, tracing your initials on his finger discreetly. It was one of the things you did when you felt like confessing to him silently, eyes not even meeting each other’s for you to tell him that you love him. He’s desperate to have you do it to him again — pathetically and helplessly pleading for you to come back to him again. “Always just the two of us.”

.

.

.

Yoongi finds it admirable that you grow warmer to him by the night, nevermind that you’re not doing it for familiarity but rather to get closer to Jimin through him.

Not once does he leave your side whenever you stroll back out to thr living room, plopping onto the couch to eat dinner made by him to which you aren’t weirded about. You no longer inquired him why he’s here, just accepting his presence because the back of your mind tells you that you’re used to him in the first place.

“I miss Jimin,” he hears you sigh for the umpteenth time, an automatic rigid smile painted on his face. He doesn’t want to hear about him at all actually, however he’d do anything just to get you to keep talking in the event that it’s the last he’ll hear from you.

“You don’t say,” he hums, tuning out his name as he tries to pretend that it’s his instead.

You can’t distinguish the far relaxed nature to Yoongi’s intonations because after all, you barely remember any of him and his quirks for you to compare his attitude to. For all you know, he’s just a calm and calculating person that you know in your life, one whose eyes just can’t stop straying to his hands.

Yoongi doesn’t want to feel like he’s mourning but the feeling in his chest is akin to it anyway, something resembling repentance rising out of it from nowhere when you let your curiosity get the best of you.

You’re unfathomably upset because Jimin’s nowhere to be found. One second you’re sighing and at the other you become molten aluminum at thrashing just to see him.

It’s painful to see you like this and he tries his best to gather you to his arms to calm you down, shushing you to the best of his abilities that annoy you even further.

“I don’t want you! I want Jimin!”

“I’m the only one you have,” he says just as urgently, releasing you from his hold but you melt to him anyway, in a fit of tears with your hands covering your face.

It hurts to see you yearn for another person who isn’t him (read: your soulmate) and it hurts more to even grasp that this could’ve been your vignette the whole time that he’s been working, perhaps even the whole time that you’ve been pining after him.

“But I don’t wanna have you,” you enunciate with a sob that wracks your body yet destroy Yoongi’s core, his intake of breath being shallower the more that you refuse him.

“Can you find him for me please? Did I do anything wrong? Maybe he’ll respond to your texts.”

“You’ve never done anything wrong,” he comes to his sense just to scold you, eyes narrowing of why you could’ve conjured up such a thing.

“But I must’ve done something,” you whine. “Jimin doesn’t love me.”

“It’s impossible not to love you,” Yoongi interjects faster than the impulsive thought had formed in your brain, his eyes stern and promising. “Your soulmate must be the luckiest bastard in the world.”

You hear him once again but you can’t understand him, the words meaning nothing to you because you aren’t even sure of the level of relation you had with him before your memory became hazy.

“But my soulmate doesn’t even love me back!” 

You have him there, ironic that you’re going through the same situation twice. You’ve went through it with Yoongi for years genuinely, while you’ve been going through it with Jimin for five days because of an experiment.

“He loves you,” he says it in confidence and assurance, his hands unknowingly making their way to grip your shoulders for you to look at him when he’s speaking the truth. “He’s a conceited asshole and he’s really flawed, but he’s trying his best to love you more than you deserve,” his voice cracks briefly, clearing his throat. “Must be hard to swallow down the fact that the universe is too generous to him because he has you for a soulmate. He must feel like he’s the scum of the earth because he has the greatest, most lovable person in the world loving him, and he used to take it for granted.”

It’s warm. Too warm, too personal, and too familiar — and in your head, Jimin is the only person in your head who fills all three boxes.

“Jimin feels like that?”

“Hmm,” Yoongi agrees, lying easily. “He also hopes that it’s not too late.”

In a moment’s notice, he furthers the distance between the two of you as if the oddly-spurred passionate conversation the two of you had never happened.

Your memory’s not acting up when you remember that you came out to join Yoongi to talk about Jimin, but now, you wouldn’t believe yourself that it’s actually the reason you came out.

This time it’s you who reaches out for Yoongi, clearing your throat.

“Who’s that?” you point to his ring finger, eyes peeking at the initials. It’s just like yours, the irony of it making you giggle. “That’s not me, isn’t it?” 

“And if it was?” Yoongi asks, eyes still gentle but his voice much too mellow to the point that you’d think he isn’t breathing.

“I wouldn’t believe you,” you answer, carelessly shrugging.

Yoongi purses his lips and he knows he should stop prodding now because the last time he did, it ended with him driving you right into Jimin’s arms to experiment him out of your life. He can’t hold his tongue now, even when he knows he’s bound to suffer from himself anyway.

“Why not?”

“Because if that’s me, then I should be in love with you right now and not Jimin,” you trail, your tone reeking obviousness. It’s clear enough for you, atleast, but Yoongi takes nothing but murkiness from it.

“Hmm,” he hums, pointing to your hand. “Why do you love Jimin if his initials aren’t on your finger then?”

“You got me there,” you snort, the words unwilling to roll off easily from your mouth. In fact, nothing forms in your mind anyway, just a mere vision that you can discern yet not verbalize. “I don’t know. I can’t explain it. I just love him.”

It’s a confession that sets you apart from the soulmate that Yoongi knows, all before you had been desperate enough to desensitize yourself to his very existence.

“You can’t explain love?” he asks gently, eyes lowering down in thought.

“Can anybody?” you counter resignedly, the concept of just settling for the fact that there’s things that are unexplainable being enough for you.

Yoongi feels the most alive that he’s felt since the past day, the smile on his face being so nostalgic and sentimental to you for some reason that it momentarily makes you dizzy.

“My soulmate can. She’d profess her love for me every chance she gets. Would do it in all the ways she could find.”

You can explain love. You’re talkative and you always have the right words to say. You have the stubbornness in you that when put to its fullest power, puts his ego to shame. You have the convincing power of a company in you, one that has nothing to its name and only its very being to prove with.

You can put love into words and it’s daunting how you can condense everything you’ve ever felt for Yoongi into the many confessions you give him. In your loud drunken spiels all the way to your silent telepathic stints — you’re the embodiment of love. You can explain love and it makes sense because you would know your own.

“She sounds like a handful,” you murmur, brows furrowed to how Yoongi describes someone who’s clearly not on the same wavelength as he is with lovesick dedication in his face.

“She’s my handful though.”

“Does she come by here often then?” your brows raise, your headache throbbing the more that Yoongi speaks to you.

“You already know her,” Yoongi smiles tightly, looking right through you. He looks at you like he’s a dog that looks for its owner, ready to be at your beck and call. “I just don’t know if you can’t recognize her.”

“Show me a picture! Maybe it’ll jog my memory,” you offer enthusiastically, already knowing that you’re missing bits here and there but maybe seeing Yoongi’s soulmate would push you to remember faster.

“Maybe another time.”

Yoongi’s turned solemn, breathing shallowly as if he doesn’t want you to have a clue that you’re even seeing him right now.

“It’s just a picture! You looked like you were gonna cry when you were talking about her,” you pout, giving in eventually. “Aw, come on! You’re not sharing her?” 

“No,” he answers almost immediately, masking his certainty with an uneasy chuckle. “I hope not.” 

( ♡ )

You feel fuzzy.

Fuzzy in the sense that you remember clearly the two days you’ve lived but operated with your mind from afar; every interaction and every word crystal clear.

Fuzzy in the sense that it’s overwhelming, the good kind this time, but still overwhelming to the point that you have to take a breather outside of your apartment that feels suffocating to be in.

You’re five days ahead of schedule, the effect of the pill that was supposed to desensitize you to Yoongi and have other as drastic side effects being cut early.

It’s only relief that fills you when you walk out and hear Yoongi’s light snores in your guest bedroom instead of the living room, alleviating your momentary guilt at leaving this time — but only to give yourself the space to think, of course.

It’s only solace that envelopes you when you screw your eyes shut and look to your ring finger while you hold your breath, the consolation of seeing Yoongi’s initials still on there satiating you.

You’re not in your room and not even in the apartment at all. You’re not at the hallway and not even anywhere in your entire apartment complex. You’re not at the convenience store nearby where you typically go on walks just to take your mind off things and buy yourself snacks. He’s already checked and checked — Yoongi can’t find you anywhere.

He fears the worst. The absolute, most heartbreaking worst. He can’t even fathom where he got the strength to dial your number on his phone because he thought he would be faced with nothing, the proof that you’ve cut all ties with him by disconnecting completely.

Yoongi doesn’t know what possesses him when you answer easily on the second ring, your voice lighthearted.

“You’re wrong,” you hum. “Your apartment’s easy to break into just like mine.”

“Where are you?” Yoongi asks first amongst the other hundred questions he’s been dying to do so, the relief that fills him unable to be topped. You’ve just said your location but he still asks, hesitant that this may just be some cruel joke.

You stay quiet at your side of the line, looking around his place with a fondness you can’t even begin to start tackling.

“I’m at home.”

There’s nothing that comes to your mind besides the fact that it actually looks like your home. It resembles your home when you only had a mattress on the floor and no bedframe when you moved in, when you started sticking up pictures with tape that you didn’t know would ruin the walls, and when you finally found your sense of the style and had the finances and time to do it — it resembles your home all at the same time.

There’s several pictures of you and Yoongi together that line up the walls and the shelves, notes written behind them in your handwriting that you didn’t think he would keep.

Your parcels that he received with your name on it are all gathered near the doorway, the flyers of your favorite restaurants hung up by the fridge. Yoongi’s house looks more like your home and it almost brings you to tears.

He never noticed it, in fact. Hasn’t noticed the way that his definition of his home has shifted to your taste and how his definition of love turned into you. It had been gradually building through the years that Yoongi hasn’t stopped to figure that your home has become his, all to the point that he’s been living in it the whole time.

“I’m waiting,” you mutter as soon as you open the door to Yoongi who had ran all the way here in a frenzy, chest heaving up and down. “I’m waiting for you to make it up to me.”

“I’ll do that and more,” Yoongi nods in earnest and immediately leaps in to kiss you, finally feeling that you’ve given him the opportunity to breathe. 

He kisses you so endearingly that you’re surprised you haven’t done it before with him because the way he does so feels like second nature. He breathes you in until he feels like he can exhale, catching his breath as he settles his head to the crook of your neck.

“I was waiting for that too,” you snort, speaking at the same time as him.

“What I said that night-…”

“I remember,” you interrupt. “You’re not the scum of the earth, Yoongi, and I’m not the greatest person in the world either.”

“Whatever makes you sleep at night,” he rolls his eyes even if he knows a fool would see that you aren’t anything short of great. “I’m sorry for making you wait,” he apologizes, eyes flickering to yours. “But you don’t have to wait around for me anymore, okay?”

It’s a great mound of consolation that he’d be willing to trek over and over again if it means making up for everything he’s done.

“I can’t love you the way that you love me because nobody can compare to you,” he whispers, crossing his heart in promise. “But believe me, please, I’ll make up for all of the lost time and I’ll love you the best that I could.”

It’s a progress, a working one at that, wherein you’d meet Yoongi in the middle of.

“I can’t confess my love for you every two weeks-…”

“Oh shut up,” you roll your eyes, playfully attempting to break off his hug to which he doesn’t let you.

“Because that’s too spread out. I’ll do it everyday,” Yoongi finishes, the grin on his face pleasantly annoying.

“You’re the worst,” you weakly offer, letting yourself into the moment of vulnerability by abandoning your defenses.

“You’re sounding like me,” he laughs, pressing just one more kiss to your forehead.

You’re the universe’s reward to Yoongi for everything he’s ever done, the resounding desire in his whole being to just be the best he could ever be for you reverberating throughout his home and yours.

“You don’t have to ask me to love you anymore,” he says gently, eyes holding up the entirety of a truth he can’t deny. “I’d give you the sun even if you didn’t ask me to.”

[amphitriteswife]

Onlyfans hc’s

Source: Lookism

Warnings: 18+ content below! And the word ‘moist.’

Character: DG/ James Lee

.

.

.

.

@yue-yolk

🍬DG would remain anonymous and would rather use a fake name from his earlier name and kpop star name. This is because his manager…and fangirls would probably cause a ruckus.

🍬because of the fact he could get caught and his fans as a idol (his fans are crazy okay? We saw the stalker girl) he would be more focused on self pleasure and masturbation. He would avoid doing it with another person as much as possible.

🍬He has his hair down there dyed the same color as the hair on his head, it’s not all that bushy and personally keept it trimmed or shaves it off, but if his viewers are fond of more body hair he doesn’t mind it …he would have to dye it a more frequently though

🍬 will not wear underwear. He likes to film the lower part of his stomach and let you see the print on it. It’s already canon that he’s huge so it’s a snake down there. He’ll wear tight pants or presses it against his stomach to make it more visible.

🍬 He would make ASMR videos too, mostly about erotic scenarios or just moaning and groaning. Sometimes, maybe sometimes you can hear him self pleasure in the background if it adds to the scenario, to make it more realistic ofcourse

🍬lots of pictures. He likes pictures in his bed or the shower, but most of them are to tease and will make you come back for more. He’ll have pictures of him laying down on his silky sheets, one hand pulling a piece of the sheet so that you can’t see the part you just so desperately want to see, the best thing you’ll get is a print or outline. It might be better to use your imagination with it.

🍬 He’ll also post videos his workouts, lifting weights, going on runs….it’s just a normal activity right? Except for the fact that his clothing is incredibly tight…no underwear on? And even the angle of the camera is pointed to the most valuable part of his body…is he sweating more than usual?

🍬 POV videos are a must! His face still won’t be visible, but his body will be on display. And dont worry, it’s in multiple positions. He’ll be whatever you want, how loud, what clothes, if you even want him to wear some. His followers are his priority ofcourse. He might even do ‘specials’

🍬 If you’re willing to pay a heavy fee. And i mean a very HEAVY fee, he might reveal his face to you. But be careful, he’s rich remember? So if it’s leaked he’ll find his way to deny it and make sure it’s not going to ruin his reputation. But you will get sued. Even if its anonymous.

🍬 PRAISE. THIS. MAN. IN. THE. COMMENTS. He might just let you upgrade to premium and make special content just for you. Don’t say standard things, make him think you’re worthy. He’s an idol who has seen lots of desperation from others, show him you’re not just some horny fan. (We are-)

🍬 If it comes to a point that his hands can’t help him with stimulation, or that his fans want to see something different: he’ll use toys. It’s not something he does often, but he’ll make sure you never saw anything like it. Most of them are a wide range of pink and sometimes even red. He’ll have them rhinestoned too.

🍬 This man spent and will spend more on different kinds of things that might help with his content. They’re the most luxurious things you can get in that department. Handcuffs? Firm yet comfortable and doesn’t irritate the skin. Rope? It’s the most strongest, yet softest silk you’ll ever lay your eyes on. Vibrator? It’s pink with Swarovski rhinestones as well as his initials on it if you paid to be a premium member.

🍬 roleplay is something he’ll certainly do if he makes videos or erotic sounds. There is a limit though to what he’ll do, he has no problem with most roleplays. But step-cest or actually irl cest is not something he will do. He’ll already stated that before amd has no problems to ban ppl from the chat for even bringing it up

🍬Lowkey rubs his body in oil. Like it wouldn’t be over the top as if he stood in the rain naked or something, but more…moist? He would flex his muscles a lot though. Praise his muscles cause their great.

🍬 he blurs out his butt. Don’t ask him why. He’s scared ppl will do something with it okay? (Even though his dick is on display he’s still scared for his butt.) his butt is masculine and square since he trains his body. It not fluffy or jiggly 😔

🍬 He will not suck okay? He’ll do anything you ask. Use a vibrator. Be submissive, hell even degrading but you will not catch man gobbling on a dildo. He will not. Not ever. Not in a life time. Nada.

🍬 someone in the comments said that his hair had the same color of a pink dildo and he started crying because he actually thought about it and became insecure.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That’s all pookies😔🙏 might do jaegyeon na next or make a pt2

[fisheito]

*rings the service bell* hi um i was wondering.. if there's any yakumo temperature play in here? sounds silly but i only realised after i circled the building a few times... that i haven't seen it at all. Seems to be common practice, actually- to not have it. i've visited several other buildings and there's been no sight of it.

which is... strange? if i think about it, it's surprising that i haven't encountered it yet! it sort of makes sense to have them together, you know? considering that temperature is so vital to a snake's perception of the world. and how sensitive reptiles are to temperature fluctuations.

so there's a lot of control to be had here. can you imagine controlling someone's energy level just by adjusting the thermostat? er- well, i guess we already do that. but imagine you put yakumo in an ice bath and he immediately falls asleep. brumation happens instantly now, sorry. and the only way to snap him out of it is to stick a flaming dildo up his ass

what?. no, i mean, restore his regular energy level with a soft warm-up. a heated blanket and a gentle steam. hahaha.

people plunge themselves into ice water before jumping into hot tubs and vice versa- for fun! they do this recreationally!! they call it a "spa treatment" and pay a premium for it! what's wrong with giving yakumo a spa treatment? who are we to deprive him of such sensory luxury?

i'm JUST SAYING that since he naturally gravitates toward heat, you could put him in a hurt AND comfort scenario he could be naked and cold, banished to the distant corner of the room.. but when you offer him a source of warmth, whether that be a hot rock or a warm hand or 20 lit candles suspended above him dripping wax on him at random intervals,,, wouldn't he have a tough time turning down your generosity?

i mean, he certainly would if he was tied up.

see, here's the other thing i cannot quite comprehend-- it's that--- how has a snake yokai not featured bondage scenes yet? i guess there was that one time with the.. hm. no, we shan't talk about the cellar. besides, ONLY ONE TIME is unacceptable for a sentient rope!! although yakumo would love to wrap up his prey and squeeze the cum out of em, i feel like we're missing out on a lot by not OutSnaking the Snake. tie up and restrain the Restrainer. it's just a liiiiittle step farther than putting him in a pillowcase! so mild!!!!

here's a guy who is always worried about losing control/// about being free to wreak havoc on his loved ones, despite his best intentions. so how about we give him a moment of peace? a moment where he believes he's subdued and unable to cause harm? just tie him up! keep him under TIGHT lock and key. (or some nice soft cloths for his sensitive skin, if we're being nice.) honestly, his brain will do the rest of the work. even if he's not truly incapacitated, his desire to BE So can fill the gaps in any questionable knotwork.

while he's half in the prison of his mind and half in the confines you've created for him, take some time to squeeze some whimpers out of him. although it pains me to cover up those soggy eyes, a blindfold may be an intriguing option. is yakumo the type of snake to rely on heat vision? WHY NOT FIND OUT! (if he's not terrified at his loss of sight, then i guess his pit organs are functioning . in which case, the blindfold doesn't really need to stay on. if he IS terrified and feels the loss of visuals acutely, this would be an excellent opportunity to soak in his panic. just for a bit though. we're not so cruel. guide him back with a warm touch. see? playing with fire temperature contrasts can bring such relief!)

maybe i'm getting ahead of myself. i don't expect yakumo temperature play to show up WITH bondage , why- that would be asking a lot, right?

but the basics are simple enough, yes? give the wretched creature the comforting warmth he wants, then perhaps inch closer to something bordering uncomfortable? Too Much? have him seek out what he craves, only to be burned (metaphorically and/or literally) if he indulges himself too much? oops! someone's become a slave to their senses!

i'm just saying that the sensory perception of yokai vs kink is (relatively) unknown territory. if temperature play already messes with humans, what could it possibly do to yakumo? he could experience it in facets unknown to others.-=- to levels others are incapable of appreciating---- like someone with synesthesia who can experience music with another layer of enjoyment.

if you give a snake ice cream, followed by a hot piece of meat [unknown origin], it'll really make him aware of the contrast, hmm??????

anyway. sorry about that. i'm not super clear on the specifics of it all. i just thought it peculiar that i haven't seen the yaku-hot-cold-sensitivity-finagling. out there, in here, nowhere as far as i've seen..

...or is it located in a part of the building i overlooked? if so, could you direct me there? i would really appreciate it.

if you don't have it after all, that's ok. i'll keep a careful watch now that i know what i'm looking for. maybe it's one of those things where, once i actively search for it, i'll notice it everywhere! wouldn't that be delightful!

with that, i guess i'll be on my way. thanks for your patience. yeah, i hope i find it too. have a good one!!

[tickletoe21]

Wrap your little one in cozy warmth after bath time. Our hooded towels are made from soft and absorbent materials, making bath time enjoyable while keeping them snug.

[dark-frosted-heart]

Crown’s S Class Mission - Roger Barel (Premium end)

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this.

Roger: Hold up. Not gonna let you kill my cute student. Now then, it’s time for Instructor Roger’s fun and exciting punishment.

Master of the estate: Oliver, shut that guy up!

Instructor Oliver: The one who needs to shut up is you.

Oliver grabbed the man and pinned him to the floor.

Master of the estate: *cough* Wha-what are you doing!

Instructor Oliver: I won't feel ashamed anymore!

Kate: Instructor Oliver…

Roger: All the members involved have been captured. They’ll be dealt with properly, but first, they gotta be punished for their crimes.

The master of the estate and all members involved were lined up on the platform.

They all had their wrists bound by rope.

Noblewomen: Huh…what’s this all about? What happened…

Roger: These guys were handing illegal substances to the women of this club. Therefore, we’re gonna hold an extremely punishing Spartan boot camp! Endurance squats—start.

Roger’s shout was the signal for those guilty to start squatting.

No matter how many squats were done, Roger didn’t stop.

Roger: It’s hard? No way, we’re just getting started.

(This is a scene from Hell)

Roger’s sadistic, egoistic, and unforgiving.

But he’s not the kind that enjoys tormenting others.

The evidence was in the calmness reflected in his eyes despite his harsh words.

(Ah, I see)

(Roger’s…really pissed)

Master of the estate: Huff, huff…To humiliate a man like this…

Roger: What does being a man have to do with this?

Master of the estate: …?

Roger: Sure, physically, there’s differences between men and women. But those are individual differences. Just like how women are oppressed, we men have our absurd matters as well.

Instructor Oliver: That’s right… Sometimes we’re all assumed to be strong.

Roger: However, that doesn’t give you the right to look down on others. There’s a lot of people in this club working on getting stronger. I got a cute pet dog who’s just like everyone else here.

(He’s not talking about me is he…?)

Roger: They’re the type that gets frustrated and beaten down by a lot of things, but picks themself back up and tries to be strong. No one’s got the right to stop someone that keeps moving forward and wants to be strong.

(Ah…)

How many times have I looked pathetic in front of Roger?

But every time, Roger would provide support from a distance.

(I’m really no match for him…)

Roger: Besides, I heard that the more stylish you are with women, the more popular you’ll be. Isn’t that right, Kate?

Kate: Hehe, that’s not a very Roger thing to say.

Roger: Well let me be just this once. Kate, what should we do with these guys?

Kate: A sin is a sin and evil is evil. We need to condemn all of them.

Roger: As you command.

After that harsh punishment, all those involved were turned over to the police.

The Beauty Muscle Club was dissolved.

The main culprit was to pay a large amount of compensation and was surely never going to see the light again.

And the bodies subjected to Roger’s punishing boot camp would find themselves useless for some time.

Victor, who had rushed over to clean up the mess, spread his arms out.

Victor: Kate, Roger! Ah…I’m glad you’re alright.

Kate: Thank you for cleaning up after us.

Victor: No need to thank me. It’s my job. Oh, that’s right. Here you go, Roger. A special reward like I promised.

I blinked at the check Victor handed him.

Kate: I didn’t hear anything about a special reward!

Roger: ‘Cause we didn’t tell you. This is gonna help fund my research on curses since it gets pretty expensive.

Kate: Geez…you’re so shrewd.

Victor: Kate, I’d like to give you a special reward too…

Kate: Victor, I don’t deserve it.

Victor: Why do you think so?

Kate: Roger told me not to do anything reckless, but I got carried away by my emotions…

Roger: Hahaha. That slap was refreshing.

Kate: It’s not funny…

Roger: It is. Just laugh and forget about that asshole. But Kate’s right. She’ll get her reward later. Because a student who misbehaves definitely needs to be punished, doesn’t she?

Kate: Huh? Woah… Roger?!

Roger threw me over his shoulder and walked away from Victor.

Victor: I haven’t seen that innocent look on Roger’s face in a while. Perhaps I can leave him to Kate.

--

Kate: H-hey, please put me down!

Roger: You sure are yapping a lot.

Roger sat me down on a sofa. He then sat down next to me and crossed his legs.

Roger: However, I prefer you making a fuss like this instead of depressed.

(Ah, there he goes again…picking me back up)

Roger: The most important thing about reflecting is finding areas for improvement.

Kate: Yes, I agree. What I need to improve on this time is…getting emotional.

Roger: You have a point, but that’s not it. Kate, you can rely on me.

Kate: You…?

Roger: Being strong doesn’t mean doing things alone. I think being able to rely on someone’s also a strength.

Roger’s words touched my heart like gentle rain.

Kate: If I ask…will you help me?

Roger: Of course. I’m your owner after all.

Kate: There you go treating me like a dog again…

(...He’s so sneaky. I would’ve cried if he didn’t say something like that)

Roger: Alright, time to wrap up Roger’s gracious lecture and get to the punishment.

Kate: ……Huh?

Roger: What’s with that dumb look? There’s a difference between reflection and punishment, you know?

Kate: A-anyway, are you going to do something perverted again?

Roger: If that’s what you’re expecting, then I’ll have to meet it.

Roger set down his hunting rifle and removed his vest…exposing his shoulder.

(Eh?)

It wasn’t bleeding, but it was red, as if something chafed against it.

(That’s the shoulder that supports his rifle isn’t it? Did it…)

Roger: I was in a rush to save you that my rifle scraped me when I shot it.

Kate: Sorry…

Roger: I don’t want an apology. Instead…lick it, Kate.

Kate: There’s no way licking will heal it…

Roger: Hmm, not gonna nurse me better?

(That look on his face…He’s totally enjoying this)

(But it’s my fault this happened. So…)

Kate: Okay… Please stay still.

I turned toward Roger and placed a hand on his large shoulder.

And then I ran my tongue over the reddened spot.

Kate: Nn…

Roger’s firm shoulder made me realize just how different he was from me.

(Why do I feel weird when I’m just licking him…?)

Roger: …

Kate: Roger…?

Roger: You’re pretty unreliable.

Kate: You think you're strong-willed, but you're easily manipulated.

(That’s because of you, Roger)

(Because of Roger…?)

Roger: The thought of you listening to anyone worries me. Besides…you’re defenseless and naive.

Kate: Eh? Ah…

Before I could react, the laces on my blouse were undone and my underwear was pulled down.

Roger: They’re already hard. What’s making you so excited?

Kate: No, I…

Roger: Geez… I’ll need to discipline you on not feeling something whenever someone touches you.

Kate: Huh? Kyaa.

Roger turned me away from him and placed a hand on my butt. Roger: This is your punishment, Kate. No matter what I do, you’re not allowed to take pleasure from it.

[aois-amaterasu-painting]

Aoi hair tweets. A timeline:

2016 Dec "I might never be able to dye my hair again for the rest of my life… Goodbye, colorful hair ✌︎('ω')✌︎"

2017 Apr "I cut my hair like I had a vendetta against it. Feels so fresh ✨"

2018 Aug "If you ask me, I feel like getting a haircut. It's that kind of weather. 🌝"

2019 Feb "I cut my bangs today 🥴"

2019 Jun "Let’s grow out my hair 🦲"

2020 May "I haven't been able to go get a haircut since February, and I wonder how everyone else is handling it. My hair’s grown so long that I really want to go get it cut soon 🤔"

2020 Nov "What? You want to see a photo after my haircut? No way, I’m premium content just by existing 🙇‍♂️ How are you today? Don’t forget your mask☺︎"

2020 Dec "This year, since we couldn’t do any live shows, my hair has come back to life. It’s like a cuticle beast now. The angel's halo is gleaming. It almost looks like it's floating above my head. Huh? It's because I'm dead? I see. I have no regrets in my life!! ٩( ᐛ )و"

2022 Feb "Right now, I have this overwhelming urge to grow my hair super long. To put it simply, I want to look like Rapunzel."

2022 Oct "It’s been a while since I decided to grow out my hair like Tatsuro’s long locks. Right now is the hardest period, where styling is the most difficult. But I endured this morning, believing it will get easier once I push through. By the way, I mean Yamashita Tatsuro."

2022 Nov "I was planning to grow my hair long enough to braid it and use it as a jump rope, but I'm starting to lose motivation. I'm always shouting in my head, 'So annoying! Ugh, so annoying!'"

2023 Sep "I left my youth at Nippon Budokan on July 15th, and now there’s a void in my heart. Back then, my hair only reached my shoulders, but now it’s grown long enough to use it as a jump rope. I’d love to do MASS tour again."

2024 Jun "Oh no, it’s here. The strong urge to cut my hair short."

2024 Sep "‘Cutting my hair was a good idea’ means ‘I’m happy because cutting my hair turned out better than I expected.’ For more details, head over to Instagram ☞"

2024 Sep "Heyyy. Ever since I cut my hair, it’s become a bit tricky to tie it up properly, and it keeps falling loose little by little—it's a bit annoying."