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Chenle jerks back, spitting, half-coughing, half-shouting. “What the fuck?” he says, voice pure panic, but before he can really get his bearings, Jisung has his hands up, apologizing, words falling out of his mouth faster than he can shape them.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I don’t know, I just—fuck, I’m sorry—”
Chenle wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand, chest heaving. He looks furious. He swings a fist at Jisung’s stomach, hard enough to make him double over, and Jisung gasps and drops to his knees, still mumbling apologies, head spinning with the aftershock.
“I’ll kill you,” Chenle says, voice ragged. “I’ll actually fucking kill you.”
Jisung's kind of obsessed with his roommate.
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Renjun drifts closer to the glass, his expression shifting to something Donghyuck can't quite read. He raises one hand, presses it flat against the barrier, and holds it there.
Donghyuck hesitates, then sets down his tablet. The cameras are still recording, but the angle is poor from where he sits. If he's careful, if he makes it look casual enough—then.
He stretches, letting his hand brush against the glass as if by accident. For a brief moment, their palms align through the barrier—Renjun's pale and webbed, Donghyuck's human and warm. The glass is cold against his skin, but he swears he can feel something else, like a faint vibration, sound too low to hear.
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Chenle just stares at the ceiling, picking at a loose thread in the blanket. It’s the same blue chenille they bought together at a yard sale last spring. Jisung focuses on the way Chenle’s thumb toys with the thread, looping and unlooping it, never breaking it off. He thinks about how easy it is to just agree, to call it a joke and keep it all stitched together.
“Anyway,” Chenle says suddenly, rolling onto his side and craning his neck at Jisung, “I think we should do pancakes for dinner. I love pancakes. And maybe see if that new Marvel show is any good?” He delivers it with a hopeful lilt, like the last ten minutes never happened, like Jisung didn’t just dig his fingers into his sternum and pry his ribcage apart and lay the insides of his chest open on the mattress.
“Pancakes and TV,” Jisung says, struggling to keep his voice from wobbling. “You really know how to show a guy a good time.”
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“Can you cut the shit,” he says, not even trying to keep his voice down, “and just tell me what exactly you want from me?”
Jaemin’s mouth does that little twist, like he’s folding up a secret. “Is it really that complicated?” he says, voice syrupy and quiet.
Donghyeok’s skin goes tight, scalp prickling. “You’re messing with me. You get that, don’t you? You keep pulling this—this psychotic stuff, and then you act like you’re doing me a favor.”
The intern at Donghyeok's work place is causing problems.
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Jaemin chews this over, lips pressed tight. When he answers, his voice is quiet, like he’s talking to a scared animal. “It’s not my way, Hyuck. It’s just what I know how to do. If it’s too much, just tell me. I’ll back off.”
“We tried that,” Donghyeok says. “It sucked.”
“Then what do you want?” Jaemin asks, eyes searching. “Tell me what you want.”
Donghyeok thinks: I want you to be obsessed with me. I want you to leave me alone. I want you to rub my back when I puke and fuck my brains out and never, ever let anyone else in. He stares at the red stain spreading in his bowl and can’t say any of it.
Series
- Part 3 of keep it on the low
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“It’s a fan thing, like something fans do. You don’t wanna know.”
Oh, but Sohee does. He’s not above being obsessed with what the fans think of him. That’s what got his ass in this predicament, this cool, little trick called Googling himself. “I’m gonna ask Google if you don’t tell me. I’m gonna ask Shotaro-hyung, I’m gonna ask Siri. Right now. Out loud.”
Anton cringes, lowers his voice. “It’s umm… a sex thing.”
Sohee learns about the 'Bottom Lee Sohee' tag, and he has notes.
Bookmarked by cyupids
28 Feb 2026
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All it took was just one misstep, one thoughtless phrase.
"The acting's kinda bad, no?" Sohee had said, mumbling a little around the straw from his cup. "There's no way that feels that good."
This, in hindsight, was his second and most fatal mistake. Wonbin had lit up like a Christmas tree.
Bookmarked by cyupids
27 Feb 2026
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this photograph is proof by suzukiblu for beckyh2112
Fandoms: Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Daredevil - All Media Types
25 Jun 2019
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Daredevil isn’t the most photographed of superheroes, but Matt still knows what a camera sounds like.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 8,346
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 18
- Comments:
- 208
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- 8,478
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- 1,730
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- 50,569
Bookmarked by ankabut (cyupids)
12 Nov 2025
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hand-spun silk by thevibesaresimplyatrocious
Fandoms: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Daredevil (TV), Daredevil (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types
21 Feb 2022
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Matt’s tense. All over. Wired as tight as can be and nearly twitching with it. If Peter didn’t know better, he’d say he’s on the verge of attacking Peter.
Then, Peter catches a whiff of him, beneath all the blood.
“Oh,” he says.
Matt sighs. “Oh.”
He’s in pre-rut.
Series
- Part 1 of jumble sale chic
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 67,158
- Chapters:
- 8/8
- Collections:
- 4
- Comments:
- 389
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- 4,575
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- 801
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- 85,069
Bookmarked by ankabut (cyupids)
12 Nov 2025
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Everybody had expected Monarch's defeat to be a moment of triumph. Nobody had expected Gabriel Agreste, unmasked and mind frayed from continual abuse of the miraculous, crying out to all who would listen and making Paris certain of one thing:
His son, Adrien Agreste, is one of his sentimonsters.
And now he's missing.
Nobody can find him— not even the superheroes, and not even his closest friends. But Marinette, Nino, and Alya aren't ones to give up so easily. They'll find him, no matter what it takes.
(But, geez, would it kill Chat Noir to lend a hand?)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 73,128
- Chapters:
- 14/14
- Collections:
- 10
- Comments:
- 3,999
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- 13,757
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- 2,695
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- 240,060
Bookmarked by ankabut (cyupids)
29 Jan 2026

