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cozycottagetarot · 6 days

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PAC: Your First Kiss With Your Person

Notes:

This PAC Contains:

General Info On The Kiss

Setting The Scene

The Kiss

Extended Edition Covers:

You During The Kiss

Your Person During The Kiss

The Aftermath

✨ This reading is for entertainment purposes only. ✨ (General Disclaimer at the bottom)

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PILE 1

General Things

Could be very early in the relationship… during the ‘get to know you’ stages. There’s a lot of attraction and tension between you and this person. I think this could be someone you either meet through a career or online. It’s fast paced but intense, a quick back and forth. But it’s good because it’s an exchange where you both are on the same level or matching energies. It’s welcomed, but it feels very interrogative, like ‘does this person fit the bill of what I’m looking for 👀’ rather than a chill get to know you. It feels like a new environment too, as in both of you are out doing something new together for the first time. It doesn’t seem like there’s any anxiety around the questioning, just kind of throwing every and anything at the wall to see if it sticks. Scorpio or Gemini could be important placements for you or them.

Setting The Scene

When it comes to the location of the kiss it could be a festival of some kind, I’m get a fair, specifically a renaissance fair for someone, or something with that vibe for a few of you. It could also be an event around water and/or where there will be live entertainment. I think it’s definitely picked strategically by whoever plans this outing… I think maybe more so your person. I also feel like it could be their old stomping grounds as well or something being hosted by someone they know. There’s an opportunity to kind of learn from others during this event/setting also.

The Kiss In General

I think this kiss is going to be awakening or energizing. One that gives you a surge of energy. I also heard that you might be trying to best them at something too. It might be outside of one your comfort zones and there could be a lot of anxiety surrounding the kiss on someone’s part. If not anxiety, hearts racing. During a dance as well could be another likely scenario. One where it’s like "Okay, we’re dancing... I feel like a fool, Oh! you’re kissing me!"... Except the rest of the thoughts just fizzle out because you melt into it. People around you might cheer you guys on.

If you'd like to see the extended version of this reading which covers you & your person's feelings during the kiss as well as the 'aftermath' you can check it out on my Patreon here. Regardless, thank you for reading and take care! 💕

PILE 2

General Things

The cards are giving me fairytale-esque vibes... a dream come true. This could happen when you’re traveling, finding home or experiencing something life changing. This could happen at a time where you’re on a journey to finding yourself/ finding your way and I’m getting that your person is intent on wanting to show you they can be a part of that world. I think this person is hard to ignore, and honestly it could be hard to ignore whatever is going on between you two. There could be something about their eyes… maybe you avoid eye contact because it’s so intense and feels like you’re intruding? I think your person lights up your world. However, they could kind of know themselves and have all their 'colours' while you’re now finding yours. There’s something intimidating here about them.... very much you trying to convince yourself you two can’t be together. I’m also hearing “You’re my North Star”.

It could happen during a place that represents transition, in the location you’re leaving or at one of your homes (most likely yours). It’s like they want to offer you home and you’re resisting. You’re denying yourself entrance into the castle they have to offer. I think your head and heart aren’t aligning and in all honesty your person is tired of it and just at a point where they are begging you to let yourself be happy.

Setting The Scene

I feel like this is a nice setting. More lavish for some than others . It could be in the evening or at night. It should be a date? I don’t think you want it to be but it is… I mean I think you know it is but you're at a point where you're beside yourself pushing this person away mentally and throwing up walls. You guys could go to a show or some kind of enchanting exhibit too.

The Kiss In General

This could definitely be at night. I think the setting really depends on your interest. So it could be a concert, something related to music… but somewhere someone has the chance to get rowdy. Even a wedding or something where it’s nice but someone can likely get plastered and no one would really be surprised.

Okay back to the general kiss. I feel like it's a battle in a way. It’s impulsive. Emotions are running high. It’s about potential and fighting for what’s 'right'... Trying to wake you up. A climatic battle of trying to get out of your head so you can see what’s in front of you and just not what you’re dreaming of... what you think the cards (?) are telling you. I think this may be if you're constantly consuming tarot or other forms of divination and living your life by it.

PILE 3

General Things

You could be a little bit disinterested or distracted when you have your first kiss with your person. I think it might take you a minute or two before it registers in your head that you too kissed. It could be a kiss to calm you… like you’re brain is going a mile a minute and generally not being grounded.

I think you’re going to be in a comfortable situation when your person kisses you/you two share your first kiss. It could be in a situation where you’re both working on something together. Or they are helping you with something you’re working on. It’s someone who complements you beautifully. It could be a social gathering between close friends as well (but it still feels like a rather private moment, like everyone else is distracted as well and they sneak a quick kiss). If you’re a musician (or a music teacher, really anything related to that field) you could be composing or reviewing a piece and they kiss you. You could get pulled in many different directions mentally or come up with a lot of ideas but burn out on them quickly.

Setting The Scene Oh my gosh-- Are you hungry or do you like food because all I can think of is food 😩

It could be a casino, family/friends game night, holiday dinner. You’re focused intensely on something in front of you. Your mind is calculating, unfazed by things going on around you. I’m also getting the caterpillar in Alice in Wonderland... a 'smoky' or and environment that gives off psychedelic vibes.

The Kiss In General

I think the kiss is attention grabbing, not just for you but someone around you may kind of cheer or whoop but you might not pay them much mind. I think your person is like this is my time with y/n and I’m not letting their thoughts steal them away! I think they're accustomed to you being off in la la land. For some of you, you could be in the medical field or have a very scholarly profession that bleeds into your personal time. But the kiss always cuts through that. I’m hearing “ah ah ah” as well.

Disclaimer: All readings and tarot/blog games are for fun and entertainment purposes only. It is in no way meant to act as or replace professional advice of any kind. You know yourself and what’s going on in your life best so I ask that you trust yourself above all else. Finally please take only what resonates from the reading which may be some of it, all of it, or none at all

#pick a card #pick a pile #pick a card reading #pac reading #pick a picture #pick a pile reading #cozycottagetarot #cozycottagetarot readings #free tarot reading #tarotblr #pick an image #future spouse #pac tarot

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whumpuary · 5 months

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Welcome to Whumpuary 2024!

Whumpuary is a whump themed mixed-media creation event/challenge taking place in January.

This year the prompts came together through a community submission form and then a poll, where I picked the 53 most voted prompts! There are 15 numbers with 3 prompts each, plus 8 alt prompts. The dates are just meant to be a general guideline for those who want/need some structure in a challenge (e.g post every other day), but you don't actually have to create/post on those dates. You can combine prompts any way you want or just pick one of each number, do every single one or even all of them combined into one big creation (or just use one single prompt. That's already an achievement!) If you don't like any prompts of a number you can also replace or combine them with an alt prompt. The main or alt prompts don't have to be done in order.

Go here for more information, rules and the tagging system Go here for FAQs

The inbox is open for any questions!

Text version of all the prompts is under the cut

Whumpuary 2024 Main Prompts 1. (Jan 01-02) Captivity / Snow / Secret Revealed 2. (Jan 03-04) "Get away from me" / Collapse / Choking 3. (Jan 05-06) Used as bait / Stumbling / "This is gonna hurt" 4. (Jan 07-08) "Help me" / Lightheaded / Kneeling 5. (Jan 09-10) Can't move / "Stay. Please" / Kidnapped 6. (Jan 11-12) Exhaustion / Blindfolded / Old Injuries 7. (Jan 13-14) "I didn't know where else to go" / Bruises / Drugged 8. (Jan 15-16) Muffled Screams / Hostage / "You look awful" 9. (Jan 17-18) "Make it stop" / Restraints / Hair Grabbing 10. (Jan 19-20) Desperation / Gunpoint / Can't stay awake 11. (Jan 21-22) Blood / "Just get is over with" / Memories 12. (Jan 23-24) "You're awake" / Rescue / Unfair Fight 13. (Jan 25-26) Left to die / Barely Conscious / "I'm Fine" 14. (Jan 27-28) Flinching / Breakdown / Sleep Deprivation 15. (Jan 29-31) You're safe / Aftermath / Touch starved

Alt Prompts 1. Stabbed 2. "Let me see" 3. Recapture 4. Forced to watch 5. Headache 6. Gagged 7. "Do you trust me?" 8. Blood Loss

#whumpuary #whumpuary2024 #whumpuary prompts #prompts #whump #whump community #whumplr #whumpuary2024 prompts

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roseykat · 4 months

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TITLE: Play Right

SUMMARY: The aftermath of the events that occurred at Hyunjin's apartment begins to unravel and sprout into things that are unsuspecting of Hyunjin and Jisung. While Jisung is under the disturbance of a text message he sent to Chan from your phone, he decides to turn to his friends to spill the beans.

TAGS: porn with plot, solo male masturbation, ruined orgasm, swearing, handjobs, soft moments, depictions of sexual intercourse, kissing, cum eating, orgasms, mainly m x m themes, alcohol is consumed (but nobody is drunk)

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSWF SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.

PART 1 + PART 2 - MASTERLIST

🏷️LIST: @chillichillicrabcrab23 @broken-glowsticks @ihatemen55 @boi-bi-ahaha @galamxy @weareapackofstrays @anglerfishiey @elizalabs3 @fr34k4c1dr41n @stayconnecteed @imnotjjini0325 @twinklix @meilix @livsposts @dawn-iscozy @princejisung @groovygroovyhyunjin @valibals @oiikaro @/itsthatbri @leftkittenface @/20minsat180degrees (if you want to be removed from the taglist going forward with this series, lmk!)

A/N: listened to Cigarettes out the window by TV Girl when I wrote most of this.

DISCLAIMER: before you read, this is a series so things are building up. There is a plot, so whilst this isn’t reader x member heavy based as the rest of the parts so far, that doesn’t mean to say that it won’t be in the future. Reader and Chan will get their time, don't worry, just want things to develop. This piece is more Jisung and Hyunjin focused iykwim x

“The weather forecast for the upcoming week is predicted to be hotter than usual-“

“Ngh- fuck, right there...”

“-with temperatures expected to rise above thirty degrees. Weather Watch is also alerting citizens-“

“S-So good, baby…Y/N…”

“-in the city to prepare for the possibility of yet another monsoon-“

“Gonna…cum, gonna cum so hard for you…just like that…”

“-other regions of the outer city should also expect showers and hot temperatures-“

“Fuck’s sake!”

With an angry groan and grumble, Hyunjin’s right hand stills over his slick, hard cock. His other hand yanks a pillow from his side and pelts it straight at his door to slam it right shut. Pathetic white strings of cum shot from his dark pink tip and land on his abdomen, some as far as his shirt that he had pulled up to his chest to avoid staining it.

It’s been impossible for him to jerk off while the six o’clock weather is playing in the background from his lounge. The talk of monsoons and hot weather threatens the disappearance of the mental images he has of you in his brain, used as vital motivation to get himself off - a recurring activity that has been happening for the past two weeks.

Summer doesn’t make it any better either. His body is sticky, sweat beading over his forehead from the disgusting, muggy heat that rivals the air con blowing throughout his apartment. Then the rain that lashes harshly at his windows is enough to drown out his own moans. It was a useless feat, just as useless as his own ruined orgasm that now put him in a bad mood. He had to satisfy his needs somehow.

Instead of turning to porn, Hyunjin had something even better; you. The vivid images of his cock plunging fluidly into your wet pussy. The erotic sounds he extracted out of you with each thrust, that is when you weren’t choking on Jisung’s dick. He just wishes he could’ve seen your face when he made you cum.

Hyunjin sighs and presses his head back into the pillow. Before he gets to think about jumping in the shower, his phone rings from the nightstand. He picks up the device to see a very flattering drunk photo of Changbin appear on his screen.

Hyunjin answers, “hey.”

“Hyunjin, what are you doing right now?” Changbin asks.

“Watching the news,” he sniffs, he might as well have been watching the news.

“Boring. Did you not see the group chat messages?”

“No, not yet. Why is something wrong?”

“No, nothings wrong. Minho booked a table for hot pot and barbecue tonight. Figured you weren’t doing anything important so we’re all meeting up in half an hour,” Changbin explains.

Barbecue and hot pot sounded nice. Surely it’ll be a method to dry out Hyunjin’s damp mood a little bit. That and a cold shower to freshen up.

“Okay, yeah sounds good. Can you text me the details then?”

As Hyunjin hung up and decided to start getting ready, it dawned on him that he hadn’t seen his friends in a couple of weeks, with a strong reference to you and Jisung. You had both been active in the group chat so he didn’t necessarily feel awkward about seeing the guy he had a threesome with. As for you, he really doesn’t know.

You’re sweeter and easy to be around. Something about that just turns the entire situation on its head. Not that Jisung isn’t sweet or easy to be around in Hyunjin’s opinion, with you it’s different. Although, as he’s been mulling over the past couple of weeks, he’s discovered a few things about himself and Jisung.

Dressing according to the weather, Hyunjin takes his umbrella with him on his way out in the hopes the rain won’t continue when he leaves the restaurant later on. After receiving the address from Changbin, thankfully just one subway stop away, Hyunjin heads off into the downfall and arrives fifteen minutes later.

He was wrong to assume that he wasn’t going to feel awkward around Jisung, and now as he spots him at the table, engaging in a riveting conversation with Jeongin, all he feels is awkwardness. He waves out to him from down the way, ushering him to come over, lulling Hyunjin out of his own mind for a minute.

“Hyunjin!” Jeongin called out cheerily, patting a spot beside him to come and sit.

“Already started drinking Innie?” Hyunjin slings his arm around his younger friend's shoulder.

“I couldn’t wait, sorry,” he responds and pours Hyunjin a shot of his soju. “Long day.”

“Did you eat before?”

“Not since lunch,” he replies.

Hyunjin shakes his head and warns, “Innie, you know it’s bad to drink on an empty stomach, right?”

Jeongin shrugs, “like I said, long day.”

Hyunjin picks up his shot glass, downing it in one go before setting the glass back down on the surface again. As he does, his eyes meet Jisung’s who stares intently at him from across the table. He shoots a cheeky wink at Hyunjin, forcing a deep red blush to emerge through his cheeks.

Hyunjin knew what that meant.

Suddenly his mind races back to that night at his apartment; making out with Jisung, remembering suddenly the thought of what sort of tricks that mouth of his possesses, watching you suck him dry. He wasn’t going to be forgetting it any time soon, not when it fuels his jack off sessions at home.

After the few lingering moments where the pair were still locking eyes, more of their friends started to show up. Seungmin was accompanied by his new girlfriend, glued to his hip who greeted everyone shyly. Hyunjin hadn’t actually properly met her, let alone talked to her yet, but she seemed nice. Once they had taken a seat on their cushions, Changbin rolled in with Felix and Minho in tow who was stuffing his keys into the pocket of his pants.

“You guys are here early,” he says with surprise.

“You were the one who organised it,” Jisung pointed out.

“That I did,” Minho nods, sitting down with everyone else.

Felix groans as he flops next to Changbin, “I’m hungry, it's not even funny.”

As everyone settled down, trays of fresh veggies, assortments of meat, and other items were brought to their table for them to cook. Minho decided to get started on grilling while Seungmin opted to bring the hot pot on the table to a boil. The smell of the food made Hyunjin almost forget why he was slightly nervous about going out in the first place.

He got back to talking with Jeongin, asking him how work has been treating him, what he’s been up to since they last saw each other, and even planned a time to hang out in the future.

“What about you, Jisung?” Jeongin asks with a mouthful of bossam. “Haven’t seen you in ages. Been up to anything interesting these days?”

Jisung finishes slurping up some of the rice noodles Felix had cooked for him from the hot pot, “here and there. Mainly just working now.”

“Ah,” Jeongin nods in understanding. “You always work so much. No wonder why it’s hard for you to hang out with us sometimes.”

That’s when it hits Jisung, causing him to pause and realise that something isn’t right. He can’t believe it’s taken him this long to realise it when it’s right there in plain sight.

“Where is Y/N and Chan?” He questions.

“Mm! Gonna…gonna cum all over your cock, wanna cum for you so bad,” you strain out. “Makes me feel so fucking good.”

Chan looks up at you, a deranged and desperate expression paints his face as you ride his dick, “don’t stop riding me then. Need to see that pretty pussy cum all over me.”

Minho flips over pieces of meat on the grill, “Chan is out of the city with his family at the moment. They flew in a few days ago.”

“You’re creaming so much around me baby,” Chan growls, nails digging painfully into the skin over your hips. “This pussy is all mine.”

“And Y/N’s still at work,” Minho continues, plating some of the veggies he had been charring on the side too.

Moans erupt from your chest, projecting out into Chan’s lounge, “C-Channie, so good, make me cum, please-“

Jisung nods. It’s not suspicious at all to him that neither of you are here. The two people to an unwanted jigsaw puzzle that he had been piecing together just so happened to be ‘missing.’ Of course, none of the other guys truly knew why. At least he doesn’t think.

Maybe you two really are in separate locations - not that he believes it. The one thing he knows for absolute sure to be the cold, hard truth, is that you and Chan are most definitely seeing each other casually - fucking behind everyone’s backs. Then again, so did he and Hyunjin in some sense.

Nonetheless, for the past couple of weeks, Jisung was storing that message he received on your phone from Chan in the back of his mind. It affirms a glimmer of a suspicion that Jisung held about Chan previously; that he was seeing someone.

“Well, that just confirms everything then,” Jisung mutters under his breath, concluding his answer there and then in his mind.

“Confirms what?” Minho questions, his hawk grade hearing picking up on his undertone.

“Nothing, just a theory that I have,” he says smartly. “I was just thinking about it and...”

“And what?” Minho presses.

“And whether I should be sharing it or not,” he replies, unsure of his own answer.

“Well you have to now since you brought it up,” Felix exclaims.

“It’s nothing,” Jisung brushes it off, making everyone at the table wonder what the hell he’s on about.

“Nah, it has to be something,” Seungmin shakes his head and begins wondering what it is. “If it wasn’t important, he’d just say it. But he’s not.”

Is it even Jisung’s place to tell everyone? No. Should he still do it? No. But that’s what friends do. They talk and speculate about who they think are the perfect matches in the group or who out of everyone would marry if they had no other option. Topics as such.

In this case, it’s whether you and Chan are sleeping together or not, which Jisung already has the answer to. Whether he decides to tell the truth would just be speculation to the others since they never saw what Jisung did. They can decide to believe it or not.

However, does he trust his friends with the truth and to not say anything? Without a shadow of a doubt. So with that sliver of comfort in his mind that makes him think he’s not doing the wrong thing, Jisung chooses to divulge.

“Y/N and Chan are fucking.”

Everyone’s heads at the table fixes onto Jisung. Not a single mouth moved out of surprise as the silence threads its way around. It makes him feel terribly awkward.

This is news to everyone, particularly to the person sitting opposite him; Hyunjin. Someone who, upon hearing what just came out of Jisung’s mouth, didn’t believe it for a second - did not want to believe it.

“You’re lying,” Seungmin accuses immediately from the other end of the table.

“That’s your theory?” Changbin questions. “That Chan and Y/N are together?”

“Not together, together,” Jisung makes haste to correct him. “I just have reason to believe that they’re seeing each other casually is all.”

“I don’t believe you,” Seungmin responds, letting his strong opinion be known. “What is that reason anyway?”

“I swear on everyone I know, I saw a text message proving it on her phone,” Jisung mentions before his blood starts running cold. He almost gave away more than he should’ve.

Without context of the night in question, none of them know. Not even Hyunjin, who was a third party to it all, didn’t exactly know. He can only guess if what Jisung is referring to is the dirty text message that was sent off of your phone to Chan during the game of truth or dad. Then again, it’s not a thought that he even remotely considers when his mind has been stuck on the fact that you and Chan are potentially hooking up.

“What the hell are you going through her phone for?” Felix asks defensively.

“Yeah, that’s not okay,” Jeongin adds.

“N-No! I wasn’t going through her phone, I just…saw them, by accident,” he responds out of desperation.

He doesn’t want to disclose that night to his friends. Sure they’re all mates and share everything with each other, but that’s just Jisung. Hyunjin keeps aspects of his life relatively private and Jisung is sure that you wouldn’t appreciate him going around telling everyone what happened. But at that thought, he starts second guessing himself and what he just did. If he thinks you wouldn’t be okay with him sharing information about that night, how is it any different from him saying the same thing about you and Chan?

It doesn’t take long for Jisung to feel regret and guilt for ever bringing it up.

“Even if they are, who cares? Good for them, and if they start going out - even better. Y/N’s a massive upgrade from that chick he was seeing before,” Minho explains.

“That’s probably why they’re messing around,” Felix theorises.

“I still don’t reckon they are,” Seungmin puts in his opinion again.

“Why?” Felix asks.

“I just don’t see it,” he shrugs. “Chan seems like the type of person who wouldn’t sleep around because he only wants to be with someone that he really, really likes.”

Those words do not sit well with Hyunjin.

“And Chan told you that himself, did he?” Minho snickers. “If that’s your reasoning, then it sounds like they’re already going out.”

Hyunjin and Jisung’s eyes immediately lock onto each other in horror.

“I don’t know if you heard the word ‘seems’ in my sentence, implying that I’m only guessing but okay,” Seungmin bites back, earning him a finger flick to his arm by Jeongin for talking back like that to their older friend.

“Ten bucks that they are,” Minho says on a different topic. “Ten bucks that they aren’t,” Seungmin counters.

“A-Are you saying that none of you believe me?” Jisung whines.

“We’re saying that we don’t have enough evidence – any of us, not just you since you bought up the topic,” Minho replies.

“What about tonight? Neither of them are here, where do you think they might be?” Jisung attempts to raise a good point, but Changbin spots the obvious loopholes.

“We already told you. Chan isn’t even in the city since he’s spending time with his family, and Y/N’s still at work,” he answers. “And we know that because Chan messaged the group chat to tell us that he wasn’t going to be coming to dinner and we know Y/N doesn’t finish until six thirty.”

“They could be lying,” Jeongin conspires.

“That’s only for tonight though. I know he’s been acting shady lately so I reckon he is,” Felix announces.

“Hyunjin?” Changbin pokes him in the arm, trying to prod an answer out of him.

He responds quietly but honestly, “I-I don’t think they are.”

“That settles it then,” Minho begins instigating once more. “Two of you bet that they aren’t and the rest of us bet that they are.”

“We are not betting on our friends right now,” Jisung tries to calm the masses.

“Mm! How about losers have to pay for a day of food when we go to Jeju?” Jeongin suggests.

The majority of the table begins to erupt in agreement, making it impossible for Jisung to rewrite something he just initiated. Everyone immediately starts talking details about what food they would request if they won the bet, then would eventually return to the topic of you and Chan.

Hyunjin didn’t really want to hear another word of it. Instead, he pours himself another shot of Jeongin’s soju in the hopes his thoughts about the situation start to melt. Until he gets to that stage, it’s easy for him to wallow in his feelings. A selfish part of him wants whatever connection there is between you and Chan to falter to the point of no return. Then the other half scolds his mind for wishing such a misfortune on his friend.

But nobody knew. Nobody knew that Hyunjin had feelings for you nor did he want anyone to know. He’d rather die than tell someone he likes them for fear that they won’t like him the way he does. It’s almost like he’s saving himself from the pain and hopes that it’ll pass. However, there was also ‘instigator number two’ sitting across from him who had been making regular appearances in his brain since that night. Hyunjin doesn’t know what it means, if it even means anything for that matter.

So by the end of the dinner, everyone had their bets placed.

The whole lot of them lingered outside the restaurant after some filling meals as some of the others waited for their rides back home. All aside from Felix and Jeongin who decided to go bar hopping for more drinks. Changbin and Seungmin were laughing away at something they were discussing while Minho was chatting to his friend's new girlfriend. Hyunjin on the other hand stood away from them, up against the wall of the building as he scrolls aimlessly on his phone.

“Hey,” says Jisung, emerging from the restaurant.

Hyunjin turns to his friend, realising it’s the first time they’ve directly spoken to each other in a while, “hi.”

“You know it feels like I haven’t seen you since-“

“That’s because you haven’t, Jisung,” he cuts him off sharply, having already foreseen what Jisung was about to say after the word ‘since.’

He smiles sheepishly, “right. So, what are your plans now?”

Hyunjin doesn’t think and shrugs, “gonna go home, paint, watch TV or something.”

“Cool. I’m coming with you.”

Hyunjin didn’t have any say in the matter. Jisung was going to follow him home like his own shadow whether he liked it or not. It dismissed Hyunjin from grovelling in his feelings and mind after hearing the situation between you and Chan. One half of his heart yearned to cry while the other wanted to punch Chan in the ribs. He doesn’t know. He’s conflicted. But they are aspects that remain undetected to Jisung as they sat next to each other quietly on the subway back to his home.

The pair walked under Hyunjin’s umbrella for a few hundred metres until they were under the shelter of the apartment complex. He doesn’t mind accommodating people at his place since he spends the majority of his time in voluntary solitude. It allows him to fully recuperate from social settings in order to go out again. This time, with less company, it’s still equally welcoming. So after Hyunjin unlocks his front door for both of them enter, take off their shoes, and store them neatly.

“Ah~” Jisung sighs with relief, stretching out his arms and stands right underneath a device mounted to the top of the wall. “Air con!”

“Don’t you have one? I thought you did,” Hyunjin mistakenly thought.

“It broke,” he mumbles, revelling in the cold artificial breeze. “Been waiting three weeks for it to be fixed.”

Hyunjin doesn’t say anything after that. He lets Jisung do whatever he wants while he heads into his room to change from his clothes to a black tank top and a pair of shorts. In his spare room that he’s been slowly transitioning to an art space, he goes in and collects some of his unfinished art, paints, and brushes. After, he returns to the lounge, he sets everything down on the coffee table and pulls up some floor cushions for him and Jisung to sit on.

“Oh, tangerines,” he suddenly remembers as his eyes clock onto the silver fruit bowl on his kitchen counter while Jisung takes his jacket off and hangs it up.

“Tangerines? In summer?” Jisung asks as he goes to sit down.

Hyunjin places the bowl of the fruit between him and his friend as he lowers down too, “why not? I got them fresh from the market the other day.”

“I can only eat them in the winter.”

“Alright then,” Hyunjin shrugs and starts peeling one for himself as Jisung reaches for the remote and turns on the TV.

For a while, they sit together. Hyunjin switches between picking up his paintbrush and pieces of fruit whereas Jisung’s eyes are glued to some hot drama playing across the screen. It’s nice to just be in the same room with someone and to not have a full on conversation that ends up being draining on their social batteries. Both of them are the perfect introverts for thriving in those types of environments. A peaceful comfort.

Time seems to pass in their space as Jisung nears the end of the episode and Hyunjin is rounding off one area of his painting. By that time, Hyunjin had eaten five tangerines then opted to bring some more. He offered to Jisung if he wanted something else to eat or drink, but the man was so hooked on this drama that he didn't even hear Hyunjin ask.

He found it…slightly…endearing. Just a bit. But then he went back to his work and all was forgotten until Jisung finally started speaking again.

“Hyunjin,” he starts in a low voice, still staring at the screen.

“Hmm?”

“Are we gonna talk about the other night?” Jisung mentions.

His hand freezes over his canvas, a small dollop of paint drips from the end of his brush and onto his work. Hyunjin wasn’t exactly expecting to hear that question, yet at the same time, he should’ve seen it coming.

“W-What about it?” He responds awkwardly.

Jisung leans back, both of his hands propping him up from behind as he looks up to the ceiling, “the fact that we kissed, well… made out mainly.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” he said, unsure of what to actually ask him here. “Do you…regret it?”

“No! No way!” Jisung exclaims rather quickly before he calms down. “No, I don’t. In fact…it was…actually really good.”

In the back of Hyunjin’s mind, he can almost predict what’s about to happen. Jisung wouldn’t have brought up the subject unless it was really affecting him - unless he was dying to get it off his chest. Otherwise he would’ve let it simmer down, but taking into account that it had been two weeks and he wants to unpack everything, there was clearly something irking him in a way that only Hyunjin seems to understand.

“You looked…good that night,” he adds then corrects himself. “You do look good.”

Hyunjin peers up from his work. What’s he supposed to say to that? Is he supposed to divulge the fact that he thinks the same of Jisung? He doesn’t even know entirely what he feels, having just accepted that he slept with his two friends and sort of went on with life.

“What did you follow me back to my apartment for?” Hyunjin gets straight to the point.

His friend sits back up and looks him dead in the eye, “let’s just say I didn’t follow you back to eat some fruit and watch TV.”

“Then what?” Hyunjin urges impatiently even though his and Jisung’s faces slowly draw towards each other.

Jisung’s eyes drop down to Hyunjin’s lips, and says in a quiet voice, “because I wanted to kiss you again.”

Hyunjin doesn’t know when, but it happened. One second he had his gaze set on Jisung’s soft expression and the next his eyes were closed, allowing his brain to focus on what’s physically happening. Their lips meet for the second time since the first, this time a little slower and tender.

As the TV plays in the background, all the two of them can hear is the sound of their mouths moving - breaking apart for a couple of moments even though their noses still touch, tilting their heads in different directions to see what’s the better angle.

The sweet, citrine aftertaste of tangerine lingers in Hyunjin’s mouth, a pleasure to savour when Jisung is able to explore it with his tongue. In Hyunjin’s left hand, the paintbrush slips from his grip, its tip smearing more paint onto his work. But there is a great distance between him and being bothered about it. He worries more about the reaction, that after minutes of kissing, stirs in his pants when Jisung’s hand finds its way onto his lap, barely caressing his thigh. His cock has started filling out.

He doesn’t notice it until slowly yet surely, Jisung’s hand inches closer to the ever growing, obvious bulge in his friend's shorts. The second he makes contact with Hyunjin’s clothed dick, a moan shoots through from his mouth and into Jisung’s. He pulls away for a second, staring at his lips.

“You really are a good kisser,” Jisung breathes.

“Jisung…” Hyunjin struggles, his forehead comes to rest against Jisung’s as he stares down at his hand. It palms slowly, agonisingly slow.

“You’re so hard for-“

He cups Jisung’s mouth before he can complete the rest of his sentence, “shut up, I know,” he cuts him off bitterly.

A chuckle reverberates through his hand as Jisung takes it away but decides to continue holding it, “let me help you then.”

It’s not difficult for him to read the room. He knows what Hyunjin wants and how obvious it is that he needs it. His cock silently screams for touch, to be relieved. So at the perfect moment, Jisung reaches into Hyunjin’s shorts and past his boxes.

A quiet hiss issues from his mouth when the entire length of his dick is free from restriction. His cock is beautiful. Jisung never managed to get a good look at it since it was either in your mouth or drilling your pussy from behind.

Jisung licks his way into Hyunjin’s mouth, his tongue dancing across his plush bottom lip before he breaks away for a moment. Excitement surges through him now that he finally gets to feel what he’s been wanting to since that night two weeks ago. He stares down at Hyunjin’s cock, pre-cum beads at the tip, some had already leaked down his length.

For Jisung to have him so aroused, so desperate for touch, proves the effect his friend has on him that he suspected was present. Hyunjin had an inkling of it when you all slept together, but nothing other than that. A pang of realisation maybe, that his friend was attractive and alluring in a sense, and it was obvious that Jisung felt the same.

He takes a soft hold of the top of Hyunjin’s cock, the pad of his index finger swiping over his tip and pulling away. He watches the thick string of glimmering pre-cum connect him and Hyunjin, forcing a wave of embarrassment to come crushing over him. It wasn’t embarrassing to Jisung. It was hot. So fucking hot.

Seeing the impact of his own actions on Hyunjin’s body gave him a sense of power so to speak. It made him want to see more as he started tugging gently at his dick. He trusted that Hyunjin’s pre-cum would act almost as a lube, and sure enough with more strokes, his cock was sticky with it. Nothing but slick sounds and tiny, barely there whimpers from Hyunjin’s mouth fill his lounge, drowning out the next episode of the drama that was still playing.

“Mm…it…mmm.”

“Don’t be shy Hyunjinnie,” Jisung prompts him to become more vocal, to express what he’s feeling however he wants. “We’re friends, since when have you ever been quiet around me?”

Hyunjin replies breathlessly, “friends…d-don’t get each other off.”

“Hey, you haven’t gotten me off yet,” Jisung reminds him.

Yet.

In his mind that starts to slip through his fingers like sand, Hyunjin was no longer able to tell if that was an empty possibility or a very real chance of it happening. For the time being, he chooses to focus on pleasure. The satisfaction of having something wrapped around his cock to relieve him, and the divine pressure that begins to store at the base of his cock from Jisung’s long strokes.

“Feel good?” He asks.

The question alone is enough to make Hyunjin lower his head and close his eyes, too shy to meet Jisung’s ardent gaze. Instead, he gives an affirming nod.

“Good,” Jisung mumbles quietly, then finds Hyunjin’s lips once more with his own to kiss him.

God he can’t stop kissing him.

The way they melt into each other is almost like they’ve done this a hundred times prior. Jisung tugs and strokes Hyunjin’s length so attentively, greedily drawing out every single reaction he can possibly get. The hushed moans that transmit from his mouth as Jisung’s tongue moves lazily to explore. Very abruptly however, Hyunjin breaks away from the kiss.

“G-Gonna make me cum,” he swallows hard.

Jisung’s eyes nearly roll into the back of his head just hearing that. To him, those words are not only a specific type of praise or reward, but it’s coupled with the way that Hyunjin sounds right in his ear. His tense, high pitched whimpers become more frequent and stressed as Jisung has been building him up to the height of his orgasm.

“Cum for me then,” Jisung whispers to him.

Suddenly, the air snags inside Hyunjin’s throat. His head drops and all the attention gravitates towards his cock, shivering as he starts to orgasm.

“Ngh - ‘sung…cumming,” he strains out, breathing deeply but staggered.

Jisung catches his seed in the cupped palm of his hand as he manages to stroke the tip of his length at the same time. He looked so beautiful when his mind and body writhe under his touch. Hyunjin’s moans complete the satisfaction Jisung feels to have unravelled his best friend like that. To see ribbons of his white warm cum in hand makes him struggle against the unhinged part of his brain that needs to taste it for himself. He can’t help it when the base of his palm reaches his mouth-

But it doesn’t stop Hyunjin’s face from twisting and screwing into an expression of revolt.

“Jisung,” he says with a tone of warning.

He hastily tucks himself back into his clothes, springs up from the coffee table and heads to the kitchen to grab a paper towel. After soaking it a little bit in some warm water from under the tap, he returns to Jisung and cleans his hand. Hyunjin didn’t want to make a note of the fact that most of Jisung’s palm was covered in cum and when he returned, it was almost like it was never there. Still, he did him the decency of helping clean him up.

“Maybe wash your hand too,” he suggests with a concerned look still clouding his face.

“Don’t look so offended, Hyunjin,” Jisung chuckles airly. “You taste good.”

“Shut up, please,” is all he can come back with, then looks up to not only see that cocky, arrogant grin of Jisung’s but to also notice that there’s still a trace of his cum smeared a little bit on his bottom lip. Hyunjin reaches towards his friend’s face, thumbing the excess away.

“Don’t waste anything,” Jisung scolds him.

“Alright,” he rolls his eyes, done with the mortifying humiliation and stands up again to return to the kitchen with the dirty paper towel to chuck it away.

“Wait, come back! Kiss me one more time and I swear I’ll stop embarrassing you!” he calls out to him.

Hyunjin stops listening to Jisung and all the whiny complaints he propels from the coffee table. Instead, something else suddenly occupies his attention. The one thing that threatens to unbalance his mood once more.

“Jisung,” Hyunjin says. “Is it true? About Y/N and Chan?”

“Huh?” He answers, “Oh, yeah. It is.”

Hyunjin’s gaze falls to the floor. That answers that then.

Jisung then continues, “I didn’t want to mention how I saw the message though. If I did, it might’ve put you and Y/N in the spotlight about that night we had when you probably didn’t want to. Plus, they’re like jackals. They would’ve torn you to shreds just to get an answer.”

Hyunjin nods, appreciative of his friend's move, “thanks. But should you have told them about Y/N and Chan anyway?”

Jisung did realise at one stage that he told their friends about you and Chan, but didn’t apply that same energy towards bringing up himself, you, and Hyunjin. There wasn’t that much of a difference when he looks at it now since he’s also messed around with you both, similar to the way Chan is currently messing around with you.

But Jisung knows for a fact that he didn’t bring it up because he wanted to save his own skin or divert any suspicion or attention away from himself. It was just so scandalous to find out that the two least suspecting people on his radar of who in the group would be fucking, is you and Chan.

“They said they weren’t going to say anything,” Jisung responds. “I trust them that much, not that I should be making a big deal about it, but I want to go see Chan. I know that they’re not, but I want to make sure that they aren’t actually dating, otherwise-“

“We’d have to tell him,” says Hyunjin.

“Exactly,” Jisung agrees. “Again, I don’t think that’s the case. Chan said so himself that he’s done with dating and relationships, and I trust that wholeheartedly too.”

Hyunjin gives a nod and decides to hold out onto hope. Hope that you’re not seeing him and that it’s just something that turns out to be a stupid rumour. In the meantime, he needs to figure out his feelings.

Too tired to make the commute back to his own place, Jisung ended up staying the night at Hyunjin’s. He could’ve well and truly slept on the couch but for what it was worth, he was invited to sleep in Hyunjin’s bed. It’s not like they’ve never slept next to each other. But for some reason, it means something a bit more. Something hazy that exists in a twilight zone that Hyunjin only hopes clears up so he can decipher what he feels towards Jisung.

The thought floats around in his mind before he drifts off, sleeping comfortably, only to wake up the next morning tangled in each other’s arms.

Neither of them were bothered about it.

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #han jisung smut #bang chan smut #felix smut #hyunjin smut #i.n smut #changbin smut #hyunjin x jisung

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merlinssassybeard · 11 months

Text

'Ex' husband Gojo - You and I

Part 1

Tags- Gojo x fem reader, angst, self depreciation/suicidal stuff, miscarriage centered chapter

Synopsis- a look at both of their POVs, the aftermath a month later.

Satoru is devastated but so are you but worse...

22nd October, 2016...

22nd October of 2016 was when it happened. The Legal Separation between you and Satoru Gojo.

Fortunately or not but the whole fiasco never went outside the borders of The Gojo Estate, despite it involving a few 'third parties'.

Luckily, the servants of the house were on a week off or else by now you and Satoru would have become the new gossip of the town no doubt.

Mr Ijichi, an assistant director at the Jujutsu High and a very close and trusted accomplice of your husband... or ex husband, you can't decide.

He is probably the only person who knows about it, not in detail of course since Satoru is very specific on who he wants to be close with but yes, you suspect Mr Ijichi is a bit aware of what went down because he was the one driving the car on that day.

You also suspected at first that maybe Ms Shoko is also in light of the events because she is definitely someone who gets her information one way or the other and the fact Satoru might have... no! He has infact told Shoko about all of it.

When Satoru introduced you to the World of Jujutsu Society, Ms Shoko was the first he got you to meet with and since you have had good relationship with her.

Since your legal separation happened, Shoko and Ijichi have been a mediator, set up by Gojo, for communication since, you know it and so does everybody who knows Gojo Satoru, he's too prideful to go back wagging his tail where he's not needed. Or so he thinks.

Satoru thinks because of his work schedules, he is not able to spend time with you as your husband and not able give you the life you hoped for which definitely affected your mental health (as predicted by his six eyes) and thus you decided for a divorce.

But the new information that he got on that day from you made him realize maybe he was indeed wrong thinking that you are perhaps different from other women who only fell for the looks but mostly for the money and the status of the Gojo family in general.

He never had plans to marry in the Jujutsu Society or The human World (haha as if!) be it arranged or love. He did not care. He had plans to become the wise Sage or a Monk of wisdom, a teacher/mentor like in video games. But all of it changed when he met you, a simple average human.

You were the one who taught Satoru so much. You were the one made him realize that even the strongest sorcerer has a soft heart that has the capability of falling in love.

But what made him solidify his love, making him realize that yes he has fallen in love and he is glad it is you was when you (unknowing about his past with the incident with Riko and Toji) made him realize the fact that all humans are not same.

This was the last and final straw that made the fall for you really bad and sick. He wanted to marry you. But he never said it out loud because of the repercussions you would have to go through and that is why he protested as well when you brought up the topic of marriage.

But none of it matters

None of it

Not anymore

He is done

All humans are the same.

Greed

Lust

Money

Fame

Power

All humans are indeed the same...

Satoru has no interest in any sort of relationships anymore. Everything feels sour and bitter. All he knows now is his role. His role as the strongest sorcerer, a responsible mentor, as the Head of his Clan, Face of the Jujutsu Society altogether. These are his priorities.

Gojo would very much prefer a permanent sort of freedom from you now knowing your true face.

'Ugh awful, so disgusting. A whore? Really? Is that all you thought of yourself y/n when you voluntarily got physical with me before marriage?', he said to himself in his head.

The only reason Gojo sent Separation papers instead of divorce was because it would startle both of yours and his families. The society isn't kind to divorced women and that too the ex wife of the six eyes sorcerer. Oh what a wonderful way to make him vulnerable for the curses and curse users!

He can say whatever he want against you but somewhere, inside that beautiful big and kind heart of his, he wants to talk to you, talk things out, talk about your feelings and wants to listen. But his mind refuses to let down his walls, ever gain!

Days following the 22nd October, you mostly stayed locked up in your room while Mr Ijichi packed all of your husband's clothing and accessories.

Mr Ijichi isn't stupid, he knew it must be really hard for you that is why he tried his best to enter, collect the things and exit as quietly as he could.

'A whore? Why did you even say that you bitch. You really don't deserve ANYTHING in this world!', your days began with endless self loathing.

5th December, 2016

A lot happened in the month following the incident.

Most of your days were spent in self loathing because after your miscarriage at just 3 months, the doctor had declared that you're (uterus) not strong enough to carry a child.

These words are something a woman is most scared to ever hear in her life. And you were one of the unfortunates.

You had stopped taking your post miscarriage medications. You're mental health got worse as well due to continuous thoughts on how you acted up on impulses and ruined the only good thing you had. Days followed you couldn't even get the strength to get up from the bed every morning. Fading appetite lead to refusing food which further resulted to visible sunken cheeks.

The house staff didn't knew anything that took place during their week off and they had noticed changes around the household. From your behavior to the absence of the Head of the house. They were also worried for your health and didn't knew what to do.

The head of staff, Mr Kawaguchi, decided to make a call to the Master of the house since it is normal for him to be absent from the house due to his work.

Kawaguchi- Good morning Satoru sama. This is Kawaguchi from the house.

Gojo (a little annoyed)- I'm busy, call me later.

Kawaguchi- Sir actually there's a grave problem at the house.

Gojo (mockingly)- what? Did someone die or something? This better be important-

Kawaguchi- sir its Y/n sama. Y/n sama is not in good health.

Gojo (worried)- w- what?! What're you stupids doing? What happened to y/n? Is she okay? What did the doctors say?

Kawaguchi- uh about that sir... y/n sama didn't let us into her room and actually we had to... (nervously looks back at the the other staff, everyone nods)

Gojo- huh?

Kawaguchi- sir, we had to break into y/n sama's room. We have called the doctors and they'll-

Gojo- break into the room!? What is hap- Nevermind, I'm sending someone. You lot stay there and look after y/n till the docs arrive!

Kawaguchi- y- yes sir!

Gojo was now left worried at what the hell did he just hear on the call. 'What are you upto now y/n'. Is this some trick to bring him back out of pity and pretend nothing happened? That you, a month ago, didn't just randomly demand for a Divorce.

He was really annoyed and even if he wanted to go to the house he couldn't due to being out abroad for missions. He has been busy with overseas missions mostly after the separation.

He decided to send Shoko for a look and to inform him 'EVERY SINGLE DETAIL', verbatim.

Shoko was sitting at the morgue, smoking, when she received a call from Gojo.

'Ha? Gojo? At this hour?', she wondered.

"Yea?", Shoko said with her usual nonchalant voice.

"I need a favor"

Gojo explained her the situation to which she agreed without hesitant, knowing what has been going on between you two and now this.

When she arrived at the Gojo Estate, she was welcomed by the worried faces of the staff that guided her to your room.

She started observing every detail. She saw the entrance door, broken. The inside of the master bedroom, dim, even with long sliding doors facing the beautiful and bright gardens. There were half eaten bowls of food. A trolley with clothes overflowing.

Shoko turned to looked at you and felt her heart wrench a little at the sight of you. She was horrified and worried. She is usually a very calm and relaxed person but you, you really made her loose her calm.

She knows you and has seen you in your good days. In light yellow summer dress beside Gojo, all smiles to now? Like this. Dark circles umder eyes and slight sunken cheeks, chipped lips and several medications.... wait what medications?

There were already a doctor present in the room who declared that its just dehydration and that it'll be okay with a few medicines.

The servants thanked the doctor and ordered the medicines.

Meanwhile, Shoko was already in a shock. The medicines piled up beside you on the bed and the bedside table were... post miscarriage pills. She enquired the whole situation from the staff.

All while, the two women staff got you up in the bed and gave you water.

Eyes half open, you recognised what was happening. You passed out of dehydration and couldn't hear the knocks of the servants outside for breakfast. They were worried and tried the other doors, through the garden, but they were locked. So they broke the entrance and found still in the bed with pills surrounding you. They all got worried and one called the doctor and the head called Gojo.

Shoko noticed you were up and ordered the ladies to open the curtains and windows and leave her for a while. Afterall she's got some questioning to do in Gojo's behalf.

She extended her hand to hold your left hand. It seemed cold to touch. "Hello y/n. Remember me?"

You struggled to open your eyes and look.

"Don't worry i won't ask you how you're doing", she joked.

"But i will ask about the medications y/n. Do not lie. I'm a doctor too", Shoko knew now is not the time but she also knew that if you were pregnant then why didn't you tell Gojo because he obviously didn't know.

Your ears started ringing. And eyes welled up. You were reminded of it again. You wanted to just lay back down and bury yourself in the warmth of the blankets.

But the cat was out of the bag. Shoko is a doctor. She knows medicines. You cannot lie. You cannot hide. You have to be strong, you have to show her that everything is okay and Satoru needn't be worried, not like as if he is anyway.

"Please.", you mumbled, she had leaned in and caressed your knuckles. "Shoko, do not let anyone know of this, i beg of you."

"Shhh", she shushed you, "Don't say that. I won't. I promise"

She continued, "... but what about Satoru? You can't hide it from him. The child was his as much as it was yours-"

You cut her in, "Shoko i wanted to tell him! I wanted him and only HIM to be the first to get the news of the...", you struggled but continued, "...of the pregnancy. I got to know myself in the 2nd month and he was coming back home just next month, it was all perfectly going... until it wasn't".

Shoko was visibly upset. She didn't knew what to say. All she was aware of was the things Gojo told her...

He went home with gifts and souvenirs for you, you gave him divorce papers, he tried convince you not to, you weren't ready to listen, you said some hurtful things, he realised his place and agreed for separation over divorce.

Looking at you she can tell you would breakdown any moment.

And she was right.

You did.

You broke down in tears.

Hyperventilating you mumbled, "Shoko they said i can't have children! Can you believe that! I can't have kids! And I'm so stupid i brought out a f-fucking Divorce paper when Satoru came home."

"He was so angry with me i could feel it even if he wasn't! I'm stuck Shoko! I-i just - just want to go hide under a rock or maybe i should just kill mys-"

Shoko pulled you in for a hug. "Ah! Thats enough. That's enough. Shush now. Its okay."

"I won't tell Satoru, don't worry"

Series masterlist

Tags:

@autumn-slaves @wondermilka @hh0pe @chayunwoo @Enaaneaen @sweet-almonds @sindela @dazai-gojo-kinnie @whats-humanity-lol @thewickedofrizz @phantasmia @ghostllyyz @yihona-san06 @aesonsgirl @direwolf-5 @fairyyxsp @puroganggang @altyx @dianagracesworld @hermitkerm @leonesimp @minnerra @whitelittlebunny @letharue

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rainbow-neko-artblog · 2 months

Text

Angel's Playtime AU Master Post

A Master Post made by popular demand that I will TRY to keep updated with every post about Angel, my transmasc religious Poppy Playtime OC:

This one, the one on tiktok and everywhere- This Angel.

-=The Comics=-

Protip: If an event in the canon game is not shown in the comics, it's safe to assume it's because the event is similar or identical to the canon game's version, and therefore did not need to be drawn

Angels Don't Let Each Other Fall - Saving Huggy

Code or Bunny - Saving Bunzo

A Mother's Memory - Saving Mommy Long Legs

The New Plan - Filler Funny Comic

The Crash - Meeting Catnap

The Crash Aftermath And Impossible Promises - Meeting Ollie

Home Sweet Nightmare - Red Gas Nightmare Sequence

Saving Does Not Always Mean Living - "Saving" Miss Delight

Passing Out and Cuddle pile - Saving The Small Critters

The Nose Button - Filler Funny Comic

I Would Never Leave You Behind - Saving Dogday

The First Attempt (Pure Imagination) - Failing to Save Catnap

Try Try Try Again - Saving Catnap Part 1

-= Extra Pictures =-

Protip: These are pictures I drew outside the comics. Sometimes they're canon to the plot and I'm just drawing them with more detail- and sometimes I am just drawing something for fun. Not everything is canon to the story if it's one of these links.

#Poppy playtime #Angel's Playtime AU #Masterpost #chronological #rnanimations #fan art #digital art #art #my art #fanart #links

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divinehedons · 11 months

Text

you're losing me.

navigation: how reader broke her ankle

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

word count: ~4.2k words

summary: at one point, you think you've found something with joel. a moment of peace, a fragment of joy. now, you're not so sure.

warnings: this is an explicit fic, minors DO NOT INTERACT! hurt/comfort fic, LOTS of angst i'msosorry, implied age gap (somewhat mentioned here and there), a play on the miscommunication trope with an uncommunicative joel, angsty make up sex, explicit p-in-v sex, oral sex (f receiving), anal sex, aftercare, occurs somewhere after the events of season 1.

a/n: i'm incredibly thankful for all the love this fledgeling little hedonist got from such a community. thank you so so much for reading!

likes, comments, and reblogs much appreciated! please let me know if you have any requests, just shoot an ask and i'm certain to see it!

Life, as you imagined it in the days that came after, was much simpler before you and Joel arrived in Jackson. It was a description you settled on, long after you’ve combed through your mind’s vocabulary, through the haze and vertigo of heartbreak. Easier was simply a lie. Nothing was nice nor easy in those autocracies from the QZs. When you look back to those days, painted only in broad strokes of inhumane bloodshed and secret dealings in the dark, he remains, nevertheless, at the center of the shell of empires you had once deemed eternal. Your gruff, quiet Joel, with bloodstained fists and sharp eyes, always strong to rage battle with the days and emerge victorious.

Perhaps life was easier pre-Jackson because you and Joel never truly defined what you had back then. You lived next door to him. You suggested he hid his contraband with you because, God, why would they ever search there? You still try and figure out when the fucking started. When you stopped sleeping in your bed and started waking up in his. Whenever it was, shortly thereafter, you followed him in his dealings, tried to look for some damn car battery that seemed to excite him so much.

You remember waking up at dawn one morning, drenched in sweat as the shadows receded in your mind, his hand on your shoulder as his eyes searched yours. You don’t remember the nightmare, you remember the panic in his eyes. “You good, darlin’?” You’d nod and watch him open a window. It was autumn, you remembered, and the breeze cooled your burning skin.

“Who’s the guy I’m meeting today?” you tried to ask, sitting up in his bed and watching the way his eyes seemed to look at anywhere but you. You tried to ignore the subtle way his brows furrowed, the grinding of his jaw. “Talk me over the plan again.” When he returned to you, his hands pull you down by your legs, spreading you wide open as his mouth kisses the questions out of your mouth.

“We’re not talkin’ ‘bout business when I can still have you for a few hours, sweetheart.”

So he’d take you, with your neck stinging from razor burn, legs thrown over his shoulders, his shirt which you wore pushed up while he bites your nipples as his hard cock dives into you in one languid thrust, moans reverberating from the both of you at the feeling.

When Joel fucks, he does so with the candour of a greedy child in a candy shoppe. He takes whatever he can get. You still remember the aftermath of when he first fucked you, one that broke a few years of celibacy, according to the man himself. You remembered the teeth marks, the broken skin, burst capillaries, and fingerprints imprinted wherever he felt the need to. He had been bashful, then, muttering about how he didn’t mean to be so rough. You remembered laughing and pressing his fingers to your aching cunt, smiling at him. You were still wet. He hardens there and then.

Even when you were neck deep in each other’s affections, he never quite lost that eagerness. You remembered that morning because you remember gushing against his cock. You remembered it because it was the morning you realised it was never like this with anyone else. Actually, you realised as his hips stutter and the familiar warmth of his spend fills you, since Joel, there had never been anyone else.

Perhaps everything was simpler then, when you look back at it. You’d fuck, wash up, go do your jobs for some rations. Sometimes he’d nod at you from across the street, and you wouldn’t see him again until he knocks on your door at night, taking you by the hand and pulling you into the night. You always stood in his corner, kicking and punching with so much vigor that he’d chuckle and mutter something about the “youth, nowadays”. He’d wash the blood from your hands, wrap you up in bandages, and tell you to not be so reckless next time. You never really listened.

Sometimes, when an exchange ends early, he’ll take you to some empty building, tell you about some renovation of one decade or another. You’d laugh and climb over him, chasing to get a taste of his cock in your mouth. You never addressed the elephant in the room, never asked what you meant to him.

It was the unspoken rule, however, that there was never going to be anything that came between the two of you. By hell or high water. He walked you home every night you did your business, even if he still had things to do. He never forgot to hand you a share of meat whenever it came his way, sometimes finding you wherever you were stationed that day just to slip it in your hands without speaking.

It was the same rule that prevailed when he woke you one night, telling you he’s leaving. You packed a bag, shook hands with the kid he was with, and followed.

No questions asked. Through hell and high water.

–

Somewhere between those days and arriving in Jackson, he does start talking more. You learn about Sarah, the worries he tries not to tell anyone, the pain in his bones.

In easy silences while the kid slept and vulnerability left you both awake, isolation made you complacent, vulnerable. It made you believe something good still existed in this world. It made you believe you and Joel could survive unscathed from the same love that had burnt others.

“Stay with me,” he whispers in the cradle of darkness, hand on the trigger as he watches you pace back and forth, trying to tire yourself enough. You look at him, blinking momentarily as you try to comprehend as to whether or not you imagined the words from his mouth. “When we get out of here–if we get out of here–promise me you’ll stay with me.”

Of course you will. That was how you ended up in Jackson, too.

Looking back, when you try and trace everything back to a singular point in space and time when the end of all things began, it began when you stand in stunned silence, watching what seemed to be a sanctuary in the midst of mortal damnation. Laughing children, playing, men lifting, hammering, building. People chattering in the street. The tipping point, however, was none of that. The tipping point was Joel recognising his brother from the crowd and embracing him with a smile you had never seen on your face before.

For a moment, you feel guilt— you knew how long Joel had wanted to see Tommy. You knew, too, that this had been everything he had worked towards for. It warms you, to finally know Joel was still human, after all. At least for a moment. Then the uncomfortable thoughts trickle in.

Perhaps, you thought once in a microsecond, perhaps you just weren't enough for him to be that open with you.

Just like that, the isolated bubble from which you had adored, and perhaps (definitely) even loved Joel, dissolves, leaving you exposed, vulnerable, and somewhat alone in a sea of people. You supposed Ellie felt it too, from the way she held on to your arm, worrying you’ll disappear too.

“I’m here, kid,” you murmur as you pretend not to see. “You’re all good.”

Even when your little group left and came back from the Fireflies, even when Joel pulls you out of a burning building and kills men for you, you can’t shake off the feeling. Can’t shake the knowledge that you weren’t as important to him. Not even a little, not even at all. You swallow it whenever he pushes aside your underwear and lets you take his fingers. You ignore that itching feeling when you take him for yourself, seating yourself on his lap and fucking him needingly, kissing him as if his lips were everything you needed, chasing your orgasms with the same greed you had in those early days.

Sometimes, you couldn’t stop it.

“Tell me you want me, Joel,” you whisper, fingers tangled in his hair, tugging, pulling, teeth gnashing.

“‘Course I fuckin’ want you, peach. This fuckin’ cunt is all mine.” He’d flip you over, lay you on your stomach, fucking up into you as your back arches and your eyes roll back in the sweet symphony of skin on skin on skin. “No one else knows how to even make you feel as good as I do.” His fingers would reach down. Thumb and forefinger. Pinching your clit until a squeal escapes you.

“Yours, Joel.” Your gasps, his grunts, the fleeting ache in your chest as these moments become less frequent, turning few and far in between. “Yours, yours, yours.”

–

It all comes to a head one evening, over some stupid argument. Even now, when all is said and done, you can’t seem to remember the trigger that set things off. When you think of that night, only a fragment of the conversation comes to mind.

“The truth is, Joel, I just don’t know what we are,” you had been saying, separating from him like shrapnel. “I used to stupidly think that maybe you wanted me to stay because you were working up some fucking courage to do something about us.” He looks at you wide-eyed, pupils blown. You could hear his thoughts from that distance. Where was all this coming from?

“It never mattered t’you before,” he muttered, leaning against the wooden table as his eyes bore down on you. A beat drops, and he is striding towards you, taking your shoulders in his gruff hands as his tired gaze met yours. ”I don’t understand, why the fuck are you tellin’ me this now?”

I know you don’t. I never asked you to.

For a moment, you struggled in his arms. The feeling of his fingers against your skin was too much. It felt too close, too intimate, too little, and nothing all at once. You whine, trying to avoid his gaze and control your tongue before it is you who eventually did ruin things.

Just tell me. What’s in that head of yours?

“Because you never touch me anymore!” Your small fists, his broad chest, hitting what you could as you finally sob and tear yourself away from me. “I’m glad for you, I really am. But you barely even look at me anymore!” When you did free yourself, your feet take you backwards by a few steps, just enough to see the quirk of his lips at your confession. “But God, it makes me feel so fucking small- like I’ve turned into some nagging bitch, the shrew at home.” You hiccup once, twice. You see him about to speak and you jump in again. “It’s like you found your life and I never had a place in it, so you forgot me.”

The last confession lay on your lips, escaping before you could stop it. “Like I was never enough for you, Joel.”

Your back hits the wall as you look him in the eye, eyes blurred from the onslaught of tears that finally stop you. “I have always stood by your side, I’ve followed you blindly across this fucking wasteland. I never asked for anything, never wanted anything but you, and yet…” You wait for Joel. As you always have. You wait for him to say something. Anything that might finally end your misery. When he doesn’t, you wait for him to do something.

You sigh. “I… I lo-”

“I’ve had enough of this,” he finally says, catching you off-guard as he moves away, grabbing his coat as he shakes his head. “Tommy’s waiting for me.” With that, he leaves. The pit in your stomach swallows you whole, remaining there, in the strange hallways of your memory, as the moment you finally understood the misery that walked hand in hand with love.

–

That was how you ended up with the singular backpack of your things, moving across all of Jackson and putting the entire commune between the two of you, and moving into the small apartment near the shops. You know the jobs he works, asked (almost begged, actually) for Maria to keep her as far away from him as remotely possible. And you did so before he returned from patrolling– some two day affair beyond the gates.

The first night proved impossible. In the darkness, you heard the arms of your watch ticking by as time moves ever so slowly. Without noticing it, you counted the minutes before he and Tommy should be back. You tried not to wonder if he ever thought of you on jobs like this. When all there is to kill is time. Did he ever touch himself in the darkness? Did he ever think of you touching yourself wherever you lay, too?

Then you remember his dining room. “I’ve had enough of this.” No. You know he wasn’t thinking of you.

You fuck yourself with your fingers until your wrist aches from the effort; and still yet, nothing. You cannot reach the places he does. Your hands too soft to mimic the sensation of his calloused fingers forcing orgasm after orgasm out of you. The sleep that comes, therefore, is uneasy,

You dream of him, lying beside you in the bed you shared back in the QZ, his gruff hum signalling he was awake. “You’re not happy, are you?” he whispers, and you look to him, hands reaching in the darkness.

“Of course not,” you whisper. "I’m in love with you and you don’t even want to see me.”

–

Joel sees the empty house first before he heard the news. It is only in your absence that he finally understood how empty his home was without you.

Without the books on the coffee table. Without the flowers you picked yourself. The bathroom felt barren without your little luxuries– the lotion you had found back on the road, the smell of your shampoo long evaporated from the room. His bed, most of all, felt inhuman without the shape of your frame imprinted on it.

Ellie rushed in when he stood in the living room, looking over in silence. “What the fuck happened, man? I tried to stop her but she was crying, all over the place. I don’t even fucking know how she left the place so pristine the way she was running around-”

“Where is she, kid?”

–

When he finally does see you, you look far worse off than he is. The apartment Maria pointed him to is nice, it’s warm. Bright, even. As if anywhere you go turns into a sanctuary. You’re reading when he sees you. With your back turned to him, you roll your shoulders in a way that tells him you slept wrong. If you even slept at all. The slight tilt in your gait tells him you overworked yourself and your ankle is giving you hell for it.

He leans against the doorway until eventually, he finds the strength to speak. “So you don’t even say goodbye? Some people would think it’s just good manners.” You turn around just enough for him to see the swooping shades of exhaustion beneath your eyes, tinged by the reddening of your nose, your sore eyes. You had just been crying. He could tell, even when no traces of tears are left on your skin.

Now, he waits for you. Attempts to weed out the silence as if it could tell him something.

“Ellie said you cleaned up. Thanks for that, darlin’.” He sighs, moving closer in an attempt to bridge the gap between the two of you. He doesn’t notice the way you tense, the way you prepare yourself to flee. “I found somethin’ for you, It’s out-”

“Just stop it, Joel.” He looks to you, sees the way the tears bead in your eyes before you look away, rising from your seat as you allow a shaky breath. “You said you had enough and I’m- I wanted to respect that.” He tries to hold you and your arms fly out, pushing him away before he gets too close, shaking your head. “But I can’t do it when you’re always around.”

He calls your name, and it stops you in your tracks. He says it again, and you realize why. He says your name with so much emotion, the teeth-gritting ferocity of the riptide. “It was never you that I had enough of. I can never have enough of you-” When you look at him, his brows furrow, eyes soften, reaching for you, hands on your wrists as he slowly brings you toward him. He calls your name, and for a moment, you feel as you did back in the old days of the small rooms in the QZ. You remember the whistling of the wind between the window shutters, white noise that soothed you to sleep.

His confession comes spilling forth in an uncontrollable gush. “I never wanted to make you go, peach,’ he murmurs, almost incomprehensible, rough hands pulling you against his chest as he finally breathes in that familiar scent of your hair. He smells of snow and pine–the same smell of the soap you bought for him last week. “I don’t know how to do this… to feel–” His thumbs cup your cheek as your gaze returns to his own tear-filled face. “Losing you is like cutting my fingers off, sweetheart, I can’t bear it.”

He kisses you, and you feel the desperation of a man starved. He doesn’t stop, does not want to stop. If this was a dream, he thinks, he’d rather consume you than wake up somewhere without the warmth of your skin on his. You kiss him, too, and it’s nothing like what you had before. When you kiss him in that quiet little apartment, it’s wanton, messy, your tears melting into his own, your whines swallowed and consumed before you can even actuate them. You only break apart when you feel his lips move to your cheek, his beard rubbing against you as you sniffle and tug him closer by the loops of his belt.

Joel continues to speak. In disjointed whispers, murmurings you try and decode. “Always wanted you to stay, darlin’. Always dreamt of you, always-”

“I thought you dreamt of ten-month summers,” you manage to tease between tears, catching his lips as his arms lift you, pressing you to the nearest wall to wrap your legs around his waist, thrusting his clothed cock against you. You remembered that dream particularly because it had been a miserable winter, one that he confessed to have felt in his very bones. How he grumbled then, in the silences when he thought you wouldn’t hear.

“Even with that summer, without you there, I don’t fuckin’ need it, sugar.”

You both make up that afternoon, slowly, lovingly, with him begging you to stay as he pushes your bottoms off and you promising that you will. The burning stretch of his girth makes you tear up again, just as he cups your face and soothes you through it. “Doin’ so good for me, baby. Let me make it up to you…” You let him do many things. You let him take you again. You let him regain control over himself again.

Oftentimes you wonder if uncertainty struck fear into him. Perhaps it was why he had always kept himself at an arm’s distance, even when you slept in his bed and wore his shirts. Perhaps that was why he had never allowed himself to feel. Never allowed himself to name that love he had for you.

“I love you, Joel.” The whisper comes between moans as his lips mark your neck in rough kisses, taking you again as he had taken you everytime. “I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.” He groans at the sound of your promises, a low guttural sound, just as his lips nip at the skin of your neck, making you whine and squeal against him.

“I fuckin’ love you, peach,” he finally manages to say, hips pistoning in and out of your weeping cunt as he makes you look at him. “I could never have enough of you… fuck!” He doesn’t care if the whole of Jackson hears you, sees the two of you locked in this embrace. As long as he had you, he knows, nothing else mattered. Gently, he lets you down to turn you around, manipulating your hips as your hands keep you balanced to the wall. He sinks so easily to his knees, tongue swiping from your clit, your weeping hole, your perineum, and even up to your ass, spreading your wetness and his precome with a low chuckle. “Tell me you need me, darlin’, come on.”

You do tell him. “I need you, sir, please,” you whisper, with such gentleness that he chuckles. He loved the way your begging sounded, the way you called him sir, like you did in those shy beginnings when you could barely look him in the eye. Loved the way you whine and try to reach down to touch yourself, only for him to tsk in warning, your hand immediately returning to the wall. “Please let me cum, sir, I just want you, please!”

Finally, he indulges you. His tongue fucking you, hands spreading your asscheeks, beard digging into your skin and his nose, his nose, just teasing your asshole enough to make you clench down in expectation. He does not stop, does not pause even when you buck against him, clenching your teeth as you feel his tongue reach there, that point that makes you fucking feral, bucking until he pushes you off the edge, and continues to push you over the edge, knees weakening and trembling in the aftermath of pleasure. You thank him, louder than you’ve ever thanked any deity for each day of survival. If you were honest, you didn’t care so much about religion, about believing. Not when everything you ever believed in knelt before you, asking you if you’d let him take your ass.

You nod breathlessly, pressing your cheek against the cool wallpaper. “It’s yours, sir. It’s all yours, and you know it.”

He smirks, kissing the small of your back. His perfect, willing girl.

He slowly draws you into it, knows you’ve never done anything like this. He starts with his tongue, helping you relax around him, helping you relax when you take one finger, then another. You had never felt so empty and yet so full at the same time. You feel the walls of your cunt stretched out over nothing, your fingers digging into the plaster as he finally stands, lips pressing kisses and assurances into your shoulders. And there, just there- you feel the head of his cock entering you, your body welcoming him so willingly, without much effort nor pain.

He fucks you with renewed vigor, your moans intermingling as his hands trail on separate directions. His left hand trails from your neck, to your chest, and quickly to your nipples, pinching, tugging, His right trails from your stomach to your wanton clit, rubbing concentric circles softly and gently prolonging your pleasure to match up with his stamina. Even as he batters your walls, his lips are so gently, praising you and kissing you. “Of course I fuckin’ love you, sugar. Always fuckin’ did.”

It’s the confession, you would think later on, that pushes the both of you over the edge. You beg him to let you, and he chuckles at how needy and willing you are in his hands. “Together, baby, yeah? Come on, be a good girl and come with me.” HIs fingers intensify his efforts, so do his cock, and it’s even more easier, You feel yourself gush at nothing, his hands the only thing holding you up now as he finds his high, rolling off with you, fucking his spend deep within your ass. “Fuck, yeah. Just like that, princess. Fuck!”

You cry for him and cum even harder, clenching and collapsing, saved only by his trembling frame. It is then that you feel his teeth biting down against your skin, guttural groans escaping and reverberating against your sweat-slick skin. You call for him, hand reaching back to tug against his hair, giving him the consent to sink his teeth deeper against your flesh.

You exchange words of love, you kiss slowly, gently. Joel carries you gently to the small cot you had been resting on, his gaze scolding you for putting your body through this uncomfortable surface every night. You whine when he leaves you, but he smiles. “I’m not goin’ anywhere again, sugar. Promise.”

He makes good on that promise, returning with something to wipe you clean, slowly, gently, not wanting to make it any worse for you. He praises you, nonetheless. So good f’me, baby. My perfect girl.

You fall asleep, slowly, gently, to the same words, your hand on his, his mouth on your cheek, kissing you all over. It’s the most peace you ever felt in a long time.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction

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bentwolioo · 1 year

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Ok so why did Gerard wear the same costume for 6 shows???

Like a lot of people, I noticed the Aotearoa (NZ) & Australia tour drum head messages seemed to be about 9/11. The costume also tells a very specific story that lines up with this--and there was more to Melbourne Night 2 than Gerard deciding it was casual Friday. I'm gonna go through my personal interpretation and explain why I think MCR did this at the end of their tour.

TLDR: This Is Not The End.

I will include image credits in the reblog since there are a lot!

AUCKLAND, March 11 2023

Based on the skirt suit and drumhead ‘FIX FAX FUCK YOU’, Gerard is dressed as an office worker. For simplicity I will refer to the costume as the Secretary, I see it as both a character and a metaphor. Auckland establishes the monotony and repetition of daily life prior to 9/11, ‘FIX FAX FUCK YOU’ showing an attitude of boredom unaware of the events to come.

BRISBANE 1, March 13 2023

The main difference between Auckland and Brisbane 1 is the briefcase. This indicates the point in time--Auckland is the days before 9/11 and Brisbane 1 is the morning before the attacks begin. The secretary travels to work, thinking ‘Everything under Control’.

BRISBANE 2, March 14 2023

The drumhead message ‘Here Comes the AIRPLANE’ marks this as minutes or even seconds before the towers are hit. Brisbane 2 is the first time Gerard wears the coat, representing everyone taking cover.

MELBOURNE 1, March 16 2023

I unfortunately could not find a good photo of Gerard wearing the coat from this show but you can see it on the floor behind him!

The Melbourne shows are as the towers collapse. Pretty straightforward from the Melbourne 1 drumhead ‘TERROR’. This show also had the only appearance of the umbrella, which I interpret as representing the rubble and destruction raining down. The umbrella is closed, showing the secretary is unprotected and ultimately killed when the towers fall.

MELBOURNE 2, March 17 2023

It seemed odd at first that Melb 2 was the only show that Gerard didn’t wear a costume for, but I actually believe he still did. This is the key to my interpretation: Gerard is dressed as himself witnessing the towers collapse, on his way to work at Cartoon Network. This the only show on the Oceania leg where they played Skylines and Turnstiles*, the song Gerard wrote immediately after 9/11. The drumhead ‘BARK BARK BARK’ makes you picture, a chained dog, representing the powerless horror of only being able to watch as the destruction unfolds--the deeply personal experience that drove Gerard to form MCR.

SYDNEY 1, March 19 2023

Blood!!!! At Sydney 1, we see the continuing aftermath of the 9/11 attacks. The secretary has died but keeps moving, picking up her briefcase and carrying on. This could be showing how a lot of people’s faith in the US government and in the world died, but life had to find a way to move on.

SYDNEY 2, March 20 2023

At Sydney 2, the addition of Gerard’s white contacts shows the Secretary decaying--but she has not stopped. Frank changed the drumhead message from ‘UNKILLABLE’ to ‘UNKILLABLES’, expanding the meaning from the context of his accident in Sydney to include the band, the fans, and on a wider level everything MCR represents.

I think all of this is a metaphor for the band’s career in multiple ways. Firstly, the Secretary being undead of course reflects MCR’s return, and her zombified appearance aligns with the imagery of their new era (decay, swarm, the destroyed buildings of the stage set). Secondly, it is very interesting to me that they did this sequence of costumes and drumheads at the end of their headlining tour, rather that at the start. The story they told seems to imply a rebirth--MCR was ‘born’ out of the trauma, pain and confusion of 9/11, so the fact that they represented the start of the band on stage signifies a second beginning.

(Thank you for reading to the end and if I got anything wrong please let me know!)

*EDIT 1 (23/03/23): They actually also played Skylines at Brisbane 2. I do think the position of Skylines in the Melb 2 set is still significant. They played it as the first encore song which mirrors it being the first MCR song and written shortly after 9/11.

EDIT 2 (30/03/23): So actually 8 shows of Secretary Gerard when you include Japan! Tokyo and Osaka analysis here

#mcr australia #mcr new zealand #mcr auckland #mcr brisbane 1 #mcr brisbane 2 #mcr melbourne 1 #mcr melbourne 2 #mcr sydney 1 #mcr sydney 2 #mcr tour #my chemical romance #my chem #gerard way #unkillable #unkillables #fix fax fuck you #everything under control #here comes the airplane #mcr

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bangtanflirt · 7 months

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(Un)natural Instincts (Part 7)

*Series taglist is closed.

angst, fluff, smut

Pairings: OT7 x Fem Reader, Human CEO Reader, Human Assistant Yoongi, Wolf Hybrids Joon, Jin, Hobi, Jimin, Tae, and Kook.

Basic premise: You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.

Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3 > Part 4 > Part 5 > Part 6 > Part 7 > Part 8

General Warnings: Hybrid abuse and lab experimentation, hybrids as second-class citizens/owned property, future smut (Minors DNI, 18+ content)

Specific Warnings: none aside from what's in general warnings

____

You don’t want to wake up. It might be a new day, but yesterday’s fatigue still seeps into both your bones and brain, like a hangover without the fun of drinking. And it’s Saturday, which means you can’t sleep in until Yoongi leaves for work. You might have melted into his touch last night, but now that you’re a lot less hazy and emotional, the events of yesterday cause a resurgence of anxiety in your stomach. His last sentence rings crisp in your ear.

You’re my best friend.

Best friend yet he couldn’t have one proper conversation before berating you in front of everyone? Your fears keep growing and rumbling inside, fears that he does hate you, and that the only reason he’s sticking around is because of his mother’s bills—just like he stuck around for his old boss. Did he see you the same way he saw him? If he could work under someone like that for years and put up with it…what’s to say he wasn’t just putting up with you? Saying whatever he thinks you want to hear?

And there’s also Taehyung and Hoseok—getting mad at them feels equivalent to kicking a puppy. Well with Hoseok, you’re more disappointed than actually angry. You really wish he hadn’t lied like that, but your heart hurts thinking about how much he’s been through to get to that point.

All you want to do is stay in bed all day and avoid the aftermath of last night, and that’s exactly what you plan on doing until you hear the little knock at the door.

“It’s unlocked” you mumble, rolling over to see who it is and what excuse you have to make to not leave your bed. In peaks a mop of light brown hair, timidly walking in wearing a rather messy apron.

“I made breakfast, everyone else is at the table already.” It’s not the chipper tone he had yesterday morning, but rather a jittery one.

“I’m not in the mood to eat.” You pull the covers up, hinting for the boy to leave. But he stays right there, making tiny noises with his feet as he nervously shuffles from one foot to the other. You pull the cover down to raise a brow at him.

“I said I wasn’t hungry Jimin.”

“W-we just want one last meal with you…please.”

“Last meal? What are you talking about?”

He looks like he’s ready to cry at any moment. “We all know you want us gone as soon as possible…a-and we don’t blame you! Just one last meal before the shelter, please?”

Shit, you’re going to have to get out of bed after all.

___

It’s clear everyone uneasy around you, dodging eye contact as you sit at the table. Yoongi’s the only one who meets your gaze, but now you’re the one looking down at your omelet instead. It’s clear whatever was “resolved” last night was a just temporary band aid for a much deeper wound.

“This isn’t working. Things need to change.”

They wolves nod half-heartedly, knowing exactly where this is going.

“You guys can’t just assume that I’m going to ship you off to some shelter the second I’m mad. It makes me feel like I can’t even be angry without scaring you, and that’s not fair. I should be able to be upset without feeling like the asshole here.”

It takes a few seconds of mechanical nodding before your words actually sink in, causing them to look up and around in shock, mentally asking each other if they heard that right.

“We can stay? Even after last night?” The Alpha has to hear you explicitly say it before his packmates get their hopes up.

“Yes Namjoon. No one’s going to any shelter, even after last night. That doesn’t mean I’m not mad at Taehyung, because I am. That book was very important to me, and he shouldn’t have been so careless,”

The guilt is still fresh on the wolf’s face, and it’s clear he wants to apologize again, but the words are stuck in his throat.

“and Hoseok, no more lying. Whatever’s on your mind, you have to be honest and let us help you.”

“Yes, absolutely! I-I’ll be honest. I’ll be good!”

“You don’t have to be good. You’re not being evaluated here. No one’s sending you away for being ‘bad,’ but rather we all need to be accountable for when we mess up. That’s how things work here, everyone clear?”

All six hybrids are quick to respond, each feeling lighter after knowing that this isn’t their last day here. It’s Namjoon who your words leave the deepest impression on, the word accountability being played over and over again. It’s a word he likes. Punishment is for pets, but accountability? That’s for people.

Taehyung’s thoughts could not be more different.

Punishment is familiar. He knows how to bite down and stay still with each hit, knows how to cope with the binder clips on his tongue, knows how to huddle up and ration warmth every time he’s locked in the time-out room, but he has no clue how to do what you’re asking of him. He probably knew before the lab, right? But those memories feel like years ago, even if it’s only been a few months. All that’s really clear in his head are the commands and the punishments, and he wishes for nothing more than for you to toss him in your wine cellar with no food for a week. He doesn’t say anything though, not wanting to ruin the mood now that everyone else can finally breathe around you again.

“This omelet is heavenly. I’ve never had one seasoned in this way. What’s in it?”

Jimin beams at the mention of his omelet, listing off spices and vegetables at the speed of lightning.

“It’s actually Jin hyung’s recipe! Hyung, tell her how you came up with it!”

The oldest’s ears go red at the attention, and he laughs shyly before telling you of his experimenting ways in the kitchen. Your little praises in between only cause the redness to deepen, until his ears are the same color as the tomatoes diced into today’s breakfast.

It’s once again Jimin and Jin getting the attention. Getting to talk to you, be praised by you, and not have to spill eight thousand apologies. Caretaker hybrids who don’t mess up every task they’re given. Suddenly the omelet is leaving a bitter taste in Taehyung’s mouth.

___

“I want to apologize again.”

You let him in, closing the door.

“I just really wish you would’ve talked to me before jumping to conclusions. Did you really think I was capable of that…in the two years that you’ve known me?”

“I just—I didn’t know he could lie. Didn’t know it was possible with all those fake hormones in him…thought he had to be honest all the time or some shit like that…so I lost my temper, and I know how wrong it was of me. I really am sorry y/n.”

“If what you said was solely about me and him then maybe I could have chalked it up to some big misunderstanding, but that’s not all that happened, and you know it. The shit you said about servants and yes-men…being tired of coddling me…I know those words came from somewhere inside of you. That’s what hurts.”

He combs his fingers through his hair in frustration, saying nothing. The longer he’s silent…the more your anxieties turn into rage, defense systems on high alert.

“Oh, so I’m right? Spit it out.”

“Y/n.”

His eyes are pleading for any way out of this conversation, but you’re not having any of that today.

“No, say it. Go ahead, stop coddling me, as you’ve been doing all this time apparently.”

He shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath before looking at you again, room silent enough to hear both of your hearts beating.

“Going to work yesterday…everyone was in such a good mood. It was the first time since I’ve began working at Shin Investments where the atmosphere felt so…light?”

You wish you hadn’t asked. In fact, you wished he rather punched you in the gut than say what he just said.

“I already know everyone at work hates me, Yoongi. Might as well bring my grandmother’s book back out if today’s all about rubbing salt on existing wounds.”

“It’s not about that y/n. I’m not trying to hurt you, but you need to hear it from someone. The way you act at the office…it puts everyone on edge. And no I don’t think it’s wrong when it’s the board members we’re talking about, because I know how sleazy and cunning they can be. But the receptionists? The interns? The wait staff at the office restaurant? All the people that are just trying to do their jobs? What about all the times you’ve humiliated them? Or worse, fired them right on the spot for one thing you didn’t like?”

You can’t help but cross your arms, needing to feel protected in some way, even if it’s only words attacking you.

“Do you think I like being the bitch? You of all people know I don’t go home and laugh after making someone else cry. I thought, because of your old job at least, that you’d understand to some extent. Sometimes you have to be the bad guy. I’m stressed every day about my father coming out of retirement, or someone on the board becoming the major stockholder, or five hundred other things that could go wrong. So I’m very fucking sorry if I need to play the bitch to keep things under control.”

“I don’t know if that excuse is enough anymore.” It’s barely a whisper, more to himself than you.

God you just want to be swallowed by the carpet right now.

“What?”

“It isn’t enough. It used to be, because yes I did do shitty things under my old boss and yes I thought I had no right to judge anyone else because of that, but I got out of there y/n. At some point I stopped making excuses and feeling sorry for myself and got out of there because I didn’t want to hurt anyone anymore. And I know you can do better, that you can change too.”

“You…you don’t get it…”

You don’t get that the second I let my guard down, they’ll all jump at me like piranhas. I can never be the soft, sweet person you think you can fix me into.

“and honestly you shouldn’t even be working for me anymore. It’s more obvious than ever that you do hate me, so just turn your resignation letter to Minhyun and move out of here. The less of me you see the better.”

You’re about to open the door to make him leave, but a hand on your shoulder halts you.

His gaze is softer, as is his voice. “I’m not going anywhere, not away from the company or you.”

“If this is about your mom’s bill—”

“It’s not. I don’t hate you, and I do think of you as my best friend. Which is why I want us to figure this out together instead of running away from it. Look, I’m not saying you can’t be mad at me. I know I deserve it for blowing up the way I did, and I’m going to keep apologizing and making it up to you until you forgive me. But the things I’m saying right now, it’s because I care about you…a lot.”

___

Accountability.

The word completely fills Taehyung’s brain as he paces a hallway in god-knows-what part of the ginormous house. Searching by scent is what finally gets Namjoon to track down the fretting wolf. Taehyung doesn’t even notice, too busy letting his anxiety gnaw away at him. It’s only when Namjoon blocks his pathway does the younger wolf look up.

“Oh, hi hyung.”

“Hi Tae,” he looks down past the hybrid’s face, “oof, let me see those hands.”

Taehyung shamefully puts his hands up for his Alpha to take in,

“I told you biting your claws isn’t a good habit.”

“Sorry Alpha.”

He flashes a warm smile, dimples working overtime to try to soothe his packmate’s nerves.

“It’s alright pup. I know how stressed you are.”

“I just—I just don’t know how to fix the mess I’ve made, and I want to burst out crying every time she looks at me now, but I can’t because I don’t want her to think I’m trying to get out of it by crying either. I just don’t know what to do.”

Namjoon pulls Taehyung in, tucking the wolf under his chin.

“You’re not alone in this. I’ve been thinking about different ways you could make it up to her, and I think I know one. It’s not perfect, but it might make her less angry. And it involves something you love to do.”

Taehyung pulls back to look up, brows raised all the way up in curiosity. Namjoon wastes no time in coming up with the game plan, telling Taehyung exactly what materials he needs to gather and what he needs to do. He watches fondly as the younger wolf’s expression becomes much more cheerful, hope coming back into his eyes.

“That might actually work! Thank you thank you thank you!!!!”

He doesn’t forget to plant one kiss on his Alpha’s cheek before running away excitedly to start his task.

“Careful! Don’t run!”

Namjoon can’t help but laugh at the way Taehyung only barely slows down.

Okay, one down. One more to go.

He knows his conversation with Hoseok isn’t going to end in smiles, because he has no solution to offer his hyung. Only apologies. The wolf is sitting out in the garden, zoned out in front of your flowers, when Namjoon’s presence pulls him back. He takes a seat too, taking a moment to admire the flowers before speaking up.

“I owe you an apology.”

It’s clear that’s not what Hoseok is expecting to hear.

“You do?”

Namjoon nods, “I haven’t been doing the best job at being your Alpha lately.”

“That’s ridiculous, you’re the best Alpha our pack could have.”

“I’m not talking about the pack, hyung. I’m talking specifically about you. I haven’t been the best Alpha to you. You were hurting all alone and didn’t even feel like you could tell me the truth, and I know it’s my fault. You always seem so…put-together…so self-sufficient y’know? A lot of the time I just let you do your thing and focus on the other members instead. But I see how wrong that is of me. You need to be taken care of just as much as Taehyung or Jimin or anyone else, and I’m going to make sure that happens from now on.”

“I’m sorry too, for lying, and for bottling everything up. I know it’s hard to be my Alpha, I’m not the best at showing when something’s wrong the way the rest of them are. It’s really not your fault though.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that.”

The two stay on the bench for a while, eyes darting between every bee that the flowers draw in.

___

“It’s Jungkook. Can I come in?”

He opens the door at your approval, taking in your distressed features.

“Um, I can come back later.”

“No no, I’m fine. I was just answering some difficult work emails,” you lie through a smile, “What did you want to see me about?”

He pauses to fish something out of his pocket, looking victorious when he holds up his little notepad.

“I finished Extraordinary Attorney! I wanted to fill you in like you asked!”

If there’s anything that can even remotely soothe your hurting heart, it’s the sight of an excited Jungkook flashing his more-bunny-than-wolf teeth.

“Now’s the perfect time, come, sit.” You motion next to you and he wastes no time cuddling up to your side, bursting with excitement to tell you every plot point. He walks you through everything: dancing through revolving doors, an extensive history about whales, and a handshake he insists you try with him. You don’t even notice two hours pass as you’re laughing and invested the whole way through.

“Thank you darling. I really needed this.”

He preens at the nickname, snuggling closer into you.

“Hard day?”

“Yeah, and it’s only eleven a.m.”

“Is it because of Tae and Hobi hyung?”

“More about Yoongi if I’m being honest.”

“I didn’t like the way he spoke to you last night.”

“That makes two of us. But I prefer it to what he said today.”

Jungkook sits up, eyes wide, “He was meaner today?”

“No, just said some things I really didn’t want to hear.”

“Well if you need him to, Namjoon hyung can beat him up for you.”

You throw your head back laughing, the statement even funnier due to his completely serious, deadpan delivery.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

___

He has to be in one of these rooms.

You open one door after another, making your way around from one side of the mansion. You haven’t seen Taehyung since breakfast, and it’s already 4pm now. Namjoon had assured you he was fine when you questioned why he wasn’t at lunch, saying he’d be eating alone today as he had something to do. But what could he possibly have to do? You can’t help but think he’s bawling his eyes out in one of the spare rooms, feeling too bad to eat or talk to anyone. Yes, you want him to have some sort of remorse for what he did, but the thought of him being miserable brings you no satisfaction.

You’re about to check another room when Namjoon quickly makes his way over, putting himself between the door and you.

You give a questioning look, “Is Taehyung behind that door?”

“Yes, but please don’t go in.”

You examine his face, becoming even more confused. There’s no concern in his eyes, making you think the caretaker hybrid isn’t crying on the other side of the door.

“Why?”

“It’s a surprise. Could you trust me on this? Please?”

He knows it’s a risky ask. You could easily laugh at his face, making it clear that humans and hybrids operate on commands and obedience, not trust. There’s nothing stopping you from giving a direct command for him to open the door right now.

You mull it over in your head, concluding that if Taehyung was in any sort of trouble, Namjoon would look much more stressed right now.

“Alright. I won’t ask.”

The Alpha can’t help the little smile that peaks through. He can’t help but feel as if he’s being a little greedy, pushing the boundaries of what autonomy you’ll allow him to have—but it’s so tempting to desire more, especially thinking back to how different things were at the lab.

Instead of turning around to leave, you decide to ask him to come out with you. You need some fresh air, but being alone with your thoughts is not something you’re sure you can handle at the moment.

“Do you want to take a walk with me? It’s not a command so feel free to say no.”

His face lights up instantly, “I’d love to. It’s a really nice day.”

The two of you make your way over, making a quick stop at your closet where you remember the new jackets you’d bought for them. You pull out a long maroon one, perfect size for the tall wolf. In another life, he would’ve been a model with legs that long. You smile as he checks himself out in the mirror, really feeling the outfit it seems. Just as you’re about to reach for the front door, a timid Jin stops both of you.

“Where are you guys going?”

“Just out for a walk.”

He looks at you with concern, so you elaborate.

“We won’t take long, and Yoongi’s here if you need anything.”

“It’s not that…”

There’s a moment of silence, neither you nor Namjoon understanding what the problem is.

Until you follow Jin’s gaze…all the way to Namjoon’s neck.

Fuck.

You forgot one of the strictest hybrid laws:

Owned hybrids must be collared and leashed when out walking in public areas.

It seems Namjoon has this realization a couple seconds after you, face going from confident glow to despondency in a second.

It’s a crisp wake-up call. A reminder how stupidly naive his dreams of becoming independent all are.

At the end of the day, I’ll always be seen as a pet.

“I…I forgot...I’m so sorry Namjoon. We don’t have to go.”

He shakes his head, “No, it’s fine. I’d still like to go.”

He tries to hide his disappointment as best as he can, standing firm. You shouldn’t have to be burdened with his feelings—an Alpha isn’t supposed to make anyone worry about him.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Do you have a collar and leash?”

You nod, admitting to have the items makes you feel like you’re guilty of a heinous crime.

“I got them for each of you when I was shopping…just in case anyone wanted to go out.”

It’s the truth. The only reason you got them was after reading up hybrid laws, making sure to keep some in case they ever wanted to go outside. But that doesn’t mean it feels right saying it.

Namjoon shivers as you click the dark blue collar around his neck, contrasting stark against the white bandages underneath. You notice the way he stiffens as it’s on, but he assures you each of the twenty times you ask him if he wants it off. It doesn’t hurt against the wounds perse, more just uncomfortable friction. The real hurt is to his ego at the thought of being collared again.

At least this one doesn’t have needles. He tries to find the glass half full.

You miss the conversation Jin and Namjoon are having throughout the ordeal. It’s not with words, but rather their eyes. With Jin asking his packmate if he’s sure he’s okay, and the Alpha lying convincingly enough for Jin to drop the subject.

___

It’s clear you’ve never done this before with the awkward way you’re holding the leash. If you’re feeling this way, you can’t imagine how much worse it is for Namjoon—how humiliating it would feel to be walked out in public in this way. You’re trying to think of any solution, maybe wrapping your scarf on him and tucking the leash in under his jacket…but that would only make things worse. Namjoon is, as clear as day, a wolf hybrid, and there’s no doubt a fleet of cops would come at the slightest alert of a wolf who doesn’t look leashed.

The streets are relatively empty today, but the few people you do pass try to walk past Namjoon as quickly as possible.

“Thank you for coming out with me. I’m sorry it has to be like this.”

He gives a small smile that doesn’t fully reach his eyes, “It’s okay. It’s not like you make the laws.”

The two of you walk silently for a while, both lost in your own thoughts while pretending to look around and appreciate the scenery. You’re the one who breaks the silence—quite abruptly.

“What do you do when your pack doesn’t listen to you?”

Namjoon looks caught off guard for a moment, before processing your question.

“I find the cause of why they aren’t listening. They aren’t the type to act up because they can. Once I figure out the reason, I can get them back in line.”

“They’re never too stubborn?”

“Not typically. They respect me and the hierarchy enough to know better,”

Inherent respect. Must be nice.

“but that’s just part of it” he goes on, “the main thing is that they know that everything I do is with their benefit in mind.”

He’s quick to notice the sour face you make at that sentence.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” you sigh “I just don’t think I’ve been doing that last part pretty well.”

It sucks to admit, but it is true that you can get a bit narrow in your focus when it comes to work—only thinking about how to benefit yourself.

“I don’t always get it right either. If it’s any consolation, you’re doing it pretty well when it comes to the pack and me. You’ve shown us more compassion in three days than we’ve seen in three months.”

Your eyes soften. It does console you a bit, reminding you that you are capable of compassion—that you aren’t a complete lost cause. You ask the next question plaguing your mind.

“Are there ever times when you have to lead them even though they aren’t happy with you?”

“Oh plenty of times. I’m constantly telling them things they don’t want to hear.”

“And when it feels like it’s all falling apart?”

“Then I have to change my approach.”

“What if you’re not the problem?”

He stops for a moment, bending down to admire a particularly beautiful flower in a patch of grass.

“Most things are my fault. No matter which packmate messes up, it can nine times out of ten be traced back to some way I failed to communicate with or lead them. And even when it’s not, I still need to step up. That’s just how it works when you’re trusted to be the Alpha.”

There’s a pregnant pause as you soak in his words, before letting out a frustrated groan.

“Leadership. That’s what you’re describing. And accountability. Can you believe I lectured you all about it this morning only to be so shit at doing it myself?”

“It sounds like you’re trying. You wouldn’t be asking me all this if you weren’t.”

“How do you know exactly what to say?”

“Lots of practice with five very different wolves” he smiles.

“You’re an amazing person Joon. I hope you know that.”

It’s almost overwhelming. Your sweet words, the loving nickname his pack uses, being called “person” instead of “mutt.” The collar and leash serve as a reminder of servitude and ownership, but the way you talk to him goes against everything they symbolize. Everything feels so conflicting. Will the two of you ever truly be equals?

____

A/N: My brain is kind of mush today so nothing more to say than I hope you're week is going well.

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