#recoil the Maine coon | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

4dtk · 3 years

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based on a lil discussion with me and @moonboohoo btw this is a little ooc since sukuna is a cat lol. enjoy!

[yuji is typing...]

oh my godddd you're ordering food? i want food too wtf

anyway. i hear u about your problem. why not just ask the first person you see when you get back home?

[(y/n) is typing...]

you want me to ask my cat??????

[yuji is typing...]

oh no not the cat, that feline is the devil himself im sure

the person delivering your food, ask them!!! maybe they'd be willing to give you a chance

[(y/n) is typing...]

hey!!!! :( dont be mean to sukuna :((

your maine coon curls up against you as you flop down on the couch with phone in hand, the other switching on the television with not much thought. your hand naturally strokes the cat's fur, jumping channels from one to the next in boredom as you wait for the delivery.

sukuna's purring carry on even when the doorbell is rung, accepting the food with a smile and careful hands. when you don't return, however, the cat perks up in curiosity, seeing the familiar twirl of your hair around your fingers as you engage in a conversation with the person at your door.

"so... is tomorrow okay?" you ask, tired of waiting for the perfect partner to come and sweep you off your feet. the other goes to answer, but sukuna interrupts before they can, hissing with the swishing of his bushy tail. it's as if he was a human himself, staring down at the delivery person despite the massive height difference.

"ah, s..sorry," you rush to place the food down, picking up the majestic cat into your arms to cradle him, "my cat's pretty aggressive to strangers."

"we could always reschedule it?" they say, shrugging their shoulders, "doesn't look like your cat wants me in the house if i were to come over tomorrow."

you smile apologetically, "'m sorry again."

they wave a hand, both in goodbye and dismissal of your apology for such a trivial thing.

the cat descends from your arms gracefully, walking off like he hadn't just cost you a future partner. as sukuna prances off, you roll your eyes at his dramatics, reaching for the food before finally settling down in front of the television again. at least now you had a purpose of going channel surfing.

it wasn't a very productive day, clocking out at an early 11pm to get ready for tomorrow. scrolling through social media was your favourite pastime, slotting in a bit of 'me' time before succumbing to sleep with sukuna snuggled up against your side.

the next morning wasn't merciful; with its bright rays shining through the window and the annoying construction going on from across the street, you could almost feel your annoyance levels rising before you got the morning routine.

"she wanted to invite them into the house? thank god i swooped in before they could agree. what right do they have to hang with (y/n)?"

what's worse is there was murmuring just at the foot of your bed, the pacing of their footsteps deemed too loud by your groggy, grumpy self.

wait.

"who's there?!" your shout catches the attention of the male, hand pointing at the owner of the noisy-ass footsteps with fear.

his messy pink hair was enough to catch your attention, but the tattoos littered across his arms and face was enough to make you gasp. you keep your mouth shut when he looks you over with red eyes, meeting yours with a tilt of his head. it's a sukuna habit, even when he's a human.

"who... are you?"

"seriously?" he asks unimpressed, crossing his arms over his exposed chest.

"sukuna!" you jolt in surprise at your missing cat, "sukuna?"

there's genuine concern and confusion when you repeat his name for the third time, coming to terms that he might really be in front of you.

"s...ukuna?" you whisper in caution, inching towards him as he keeps his eyebrow raised at your clueless state. tracing your hand across his carefully drawn tattoos was the first thing you did before moving on to his unkempt pink hair and mouth, where he still possessed his canine teeth.

he recoils as part of instinct, an uncharacteristic blush appearing on his face.

you overlook his behaviour but instead groan, falling back into the bed behind you in panic from the situation you've just encountered. your head comes up to gaze at the other, frustrated that he hasn't gone away after slapping your face, blinking your eyes or even falling off the bed.

"fuck. so you're real then."

"tch, then what am i? am i not matter, a material that constitutes the observable universe and, together with energy, forms the basis of all objective phenomena?"

you blow a raspberry, "did you get that from my science notes? god, whatever, let's get you some clothes."

luckily, with your wide array of oversized shirts, you were able to dress him decently. despite your confusion, you still were very interested to know how he came to be in your small apartment. with a skilled hand, you brew some coffee for the both of you, handing him a steaming hot cup after a few minutes.

"i change every night," sukuna says nonchalantly, immediately spitting out the bitter drink in repulsion.

he makes a disgusted face, “what the fuck is this?”

you deadpan, "really? all over my floor?"

getting up, your hands reach for the paper towels to clean up the mess that your cat-turned-human made, cringing at the way the paper towel turns brown with the immediate soak-up.

“but this is the first time i’ve struggled to change back. i’m not sure how i do it normally, but jeez, drinking your goddamn coffee makes me wish i was a cat again.”

with each passing minute, he gets on your nerves and by now, he’s shoved the drink back to you. standing up, he stretches his muscles like how he usually does in the mornings, allowing for every part of his toned body to show itself.

there goes the annoyance...

"well, i can't say i'm not attracted either..." you mutter to yourself, gulping down the extra cup before placing them in the sink. the laptop you frequent makes its way onto your lap not so long later, bringing up a essay due in the next week. you decided to start early this time and made sure to pace yourself, trying to rule out the last minute rushes you always settled for.

an arm encircles around your waist, taking you by surprise when you let out a squeak. sukuna is nuzzling himself into your arm while you try to frantically delete the out-of-topic sentence that was making its way onto the word doc.

"what are you doing?"

"morning routine," he simply says, laying his tongue on you without any warning.

"oh god, sukuna, no!" you groan, pushing him away from his tight grip on you like he usually does when his body is propped against your chest. you've woken up too many times, struggling to breathe because of his weight.

he retreats reluctantly, really wishing he was a cat again as he grunts at your behaviour.

"have it your way," sukuna mumbles, his naturally grumpy self amplified by your rejection. you thought back to the times your maine coon normally sat beside you quietly, basking in the way your fingers typed on the keyboard.

what could be any different? plus, you'd have a reciprocation of your head pats.

there's a tug on the other's wrist, "you can lay. just no- no licking, okay?"

you almost scoff at the sukuna rolls his eyes, but his actions betray him anyways because he's laid down beside you, curling into your side as he places his head into your stomach.

the desktop's illumination shines brighter than the morning's rays, hypnotising sukuna into a slumber as you play with his hair.

you wouldn't have noticed the male if he hadn't introduced himself, but his brash personality matched your cat too closely, knowing you were the only one he'd show affection to despite the constant hissing and glares he sent to your friends.

a gentle grasp of his hand snaps you out of your thoughts, bringing back memories of the way he'll lay his paw on you, even during the first time where you met him in the animal shelter.

sukuna stays peaceful throughout his sleep, pink hair slowly becoming messier the more he cuddled into your person. he was content now, at least, as you read over the essay to correct any mistakes.

it lulls him in and out of consciousness, stuck between wanting to hear your tender voice and relishing being embraced in his sleep.

either way, he was positive he wanted to spend the rest of his cat (or human) life with you.

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maddpopcorn · 4 years

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It’s Okay || pjm

Pairing: Maine Coon!Hybrid!Jimin x Male!Reader

Request: hiii can i request a jimin x male reader fic? maybe an angst/comfort hybrid au where jimin is a homeless hybrid who escaped from his abuser owner and is now trying to survive in the streets. the reader would find him and try to help him, but since jimin is scared and doesn’t trust humans, it’s a bit harder than he expected.. (i’d prefer a series but you can make it a one-shot or drabble or whatev boils your noodles lol) thank you in advance and have a nice day!

Summary: When walking down your normal road, you spy a long, fluffy tail. And when it connects to a bruised and bloodied up hybrid who immediately hisses at you, you find yourself trying everything in your power to bring him home….even if you have to suffer a couple of scratches along the way.

Warnings: Angst, lots of angst, burning of the skin with cigarettes, mentions of starving from neglect/punishment, punching, slight mentions blood and cleaning the wound, night terrors

A/N: Wow, you were my first request! I am so sorry it took long. However, I enjoyed writing this piece a lot so I hope you enjoy it, too! If people like this so much, perhaps I could make a second part (I already have one hybrid series I’m planning on making so it might be too much to make this into a series :)) Also, forgive me if there are any mistakes!

Jimin hates being a hybrid. No, scratch that. He despises it. He despises himself. Because of his nature, he’s immediately treated with little to no respect by most humans in society. He’s treated like he’s some type of scum on the bottom of their shoes.

Which isn’t true at all but who will ever listen to him, right? He is just a mangy good for nothing hybrid, after all.

He despises humans. After all of this time observing them, after experiencing them first hand, he has deemed them greedy, selfish and just evil.

They are all evil.

Without his permission, tears well up in his eyes, and he hastily wipes them away out of habit in fear of being caught. He blinks and then dryly chuckles, looking down at his burnt scars that dotted his arms. Who is going to burn their cigarettes into his now dry and cracked skin? Who is going to punch their frustrations out on him again?

No one, right?

He escaped them.

Sighing in relief and with a smile, you wave bye to the last customer that walks out of the coffee shop. Immediately, your smile drops.

“Holy hell, today was busier than a fucking highway,” you groan, shoulders drooping dramatically. You let the broom slide in your hand until only the tips of your fingers are barely holding it up.

“Yeah, why do these people need all of this coffee on a Friday afternoon anyway?” Yoongi complains, dropping his head on the counter, his recently dyed mint hair covering his eyes. “It’s like they’re addicted or something. Damn.”

“Takes one to know one, Yoongles,” you tease, holding the broom properly again and resuming sweeping.

Huffing at your joke, he stretches, popping several bones in the process (that you may or may not be worried about).“Yeah but unlike them, I know my limits.”

“Hah, funniest joke of the year. Yeah, right, dude.”

He reels back like he has touched fire and gasps. “Wha-excuse me, mister but I know my limits.”

“No, you really don’t.”

“Ye-”

“Yoongi-” you stop sweeping, putting your hand on your hip. “-you drank 5 cups of coffee in one sitting during exam week. And then, the next week, you kept chugging energy drinks like they were nothing so you could finish your ‘precious song’.” One by one, you start listing off all the times he has drank too much coffee and energy drinks. His body deflates with each jab at his pride until he’s crumbling in on himself.

It’s a hot minute before any of you say anything, quietly cleaning up the shop so that you could finally go home.

“Fuck off, pretty boy,” he finally says, middle finger in the air and face heating up.

You bark out a laugh. “So you finally admit that I’m pretty, huh? Jin owes me $5.”

“You fucking-”

“Don’t forget, 8 o’clock tonight, my apartment. Don’t be late like last time, brat,” Yoongi scolds, adjusting his glasses. You throw your hands up, a cheeky smirk on your face.

“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

You wave bye to your coworker as you exit the coffee shop. Humming to yourself, you begin your journey on your normal path to home. Mentally checking off your to-do list before you have to get ready for the annual hangout you and your friends have every week, you spot in the corner of your eye a fluffy, blonde blob. You turn your head, fully stopping and squinting.

“What the fuck?” you mutter to yourself, creeping up on the blob. It grows until it stops at a…

“Holy shit!” You yell, quickly slapping your hand over your mouth in disbelief.

A hybrid. A cat hybrid, to be specific, is laying on the dirty and wet ground of the alley way. His eyes are closed, and you timidly squat down near him to examine him. Matted blonde hair sticks to his face with what you can only assume is sweat and dirt which is also smudging across his face. His lips are forming a pout and he moves a bit, making you jump back in surprise. When he stays still after, you continue your examination. His skin looks dry and his cheeks are sunken in. Trailing your eyes down his form, you notice how worn and ragged his clothes truly are. And how big they look on him. Your eyebrows furrow at his state. Someone did a beating on this poor guy.

He whimpers in his sleep and without thinking, you do something stupid. Something incredibly stupid.

You reach your hand out towards him, to pet him or give him comfort, not really controlling your urges to get close. And that’s when you instantly regret it. His eyes snap open, and you yelp in pain as his claws swipe into your skin. Recoiling back, you immediately grasp your now bleeding arm, eyes glued to it. Three deep scratches litter your arm and blood starts to come to the surface.

Even if you’re the one that got scratched, you apologize.

“I-I’m sorry,” you stammer, letting out a shuddering breath. “I should’ve given you your space. I’m sorry.”

“Leave me alone!” He hisses, shuffling far away from you. Growling, his entire body shakes as flashes upon flashes come back to him. Pupils reducing to slits and ears flattening against his head, he swipes at you again,

You mentally slap yourself in the face. Of course he would scratch you. You invaded his personal space and reminded him of his abusers. You scared him. You back up, giving the hybrid one last glance, guilt racking every bone in your body for scaring the hybrid before you walk away.

He doesn’t meet your eyes.

You rush home, your makeshift bandage from the napkins in your pocket soaked in blood. He got you deep. But it wasn’t his fault. It was yours.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” you repeat to yourself. “How could you be so fucking stupid?”

Someone holds the door open for you as you slide past them, muttering a quick thanks.

“Hi, Mrs. Hags. Bye, Mrs. Hags,” you yell out to the landlady, rushing past people into the elevator of your complex.

“Bye, dearie,” she calls out. “Odd fellow, he is. Isn’t that right, Mr. Whiskers?”

Her cat only yawns in response and she immediately coos, getting right back to her knitting.

Stomping your foot impatiently, you give an awkward smile to the other tenants present in the elevator. They smile back, weird looks on their faces as they realize you’re holding your bleeding arm and you silently wish that the elevator would hurry the hell up. Sighing in relief as the elevators dings, you squeeze through the opening doors.

“Odd fellow,” One whispers out.

“Yeah, very odd,” Another whispers back.

Fumbling with your keys to your door, you curse in frustration as you drop them. Picking them up, you unlock your door after what seemed like forever. Finally, practically throwing open your door, you race to your bathroom, not caring as your door slams behind you. Dropping everything, you quickly get the first aid kit out.

“Fuck,” you hiss in pain as the alcohol seeps into your wound. Tears fall from your eyes from the burning sensation. “Ah, I’m melting, I’m melting…fuck, I’m dumb.”

After 10 minutes of grueling pain, you look at your newly bandaged arm. That was so stupid of you. How could you just invade his space like that? As you focus on your arm, dumb thoughts running through your head, your phone rings, snapping you out of your thoughts. Fishing it out of your pocket, you groan again when you realize it’s Yoongi. You still had time to get there, two hours really, so why was he calling you?

“Hello?”

“Y/N, wanted to let you know that Joon got the stomach bug so the hangout is cancelled. Hobi and I are taking care of him.”

You can hear groans of pain in the background and Hoseok teasing. “Quit being a baby, Joonie. It’s a mere stomach bug.”

“Feels like I’m dying, Hobi,” he groans dramatically.

“Sounds like you have a handful, Yoongles,” you chuckle, putting up the alcohol and first aid kit.

“Yeah, unfortunately.”

“Okay, thanks for telling me. I hope Joon gets better. I have some stuff to do so I have to go.”

“Yeah, right. Bye, Y/N-Namjoon, did you just hit me with a pillow?”

You can hear Namjoon yelling “Cuddles, now!” before Yoongi hangs up, eliciting a belly laugh out of you. How Yoongi and Hoseok put up with their boyfriend, you have no clue but more power to them. Staring back at your arm, you nod as you come up with a plan to win the hybrid over. Or at least apologize to him. You roll up your other sleeve, making your way over to your kitchen. You’ve got work to do.

It’s a couple of hours later when Jimin finally retreats from his hidey hole to see a brown paper bag with a note attached to it. An amazing smell wafts through the air that makes his stomach growl in hunger. He slowly crawls forward, tail swishing in curiosity, and snatches the note from the bag.

I’m sorry about today. Please enjoy your dinner.

P.S, I hear Maine Coons like this fish, assuming you are one. Enjoy :)

-Y/N (The guy who is really sorry about invading your personal space)

He hisses in disgust, shifting backward from the paper bag. The note flies from his grasp and lands in a puddle, immediately getting soaked from the dirty water. What if you poisoned it? Or laced it with something? Are you working for…her? Are you going to take him back? It’s not like he’s never had the wonderful pleasure of starving before. She would make sure of that. He can deal with it. He has done it plenty of times, one more can’t hurt…right?

He sits there, just glaring holes at the bag as rain drops hit him, trying so hard to ignore everything. The smell, the wonderful smell. He clenches his teeth so hard he’s afraid he’ll break them as another sharp pain shoots through his stomach, accompanied by a familiar grumbling. He tries to ignore it. He tries to focus on something else. Perhaps the way his bones are shivering from the rain will do? No, that makes it worse. Makes him want whatever is in the bag even more. It seems warm. Warm enough to make him warm. He wants it. He needs it. So much.

Ignore it.

Ignore. It.

But, a guy can only take so much.

The smell surrounding him in mockery and the nagging pain finally makes Jimin grab the bag, fishing out the food and digging in, without sparing it a second glance. He’ll worry about the consequences later.

He almost moans from the taste he thought he had forgotten long ago. The fish is still warm, kept in a container that keeps the temperature insulated and whatever soup you got (or made, he can care less) goes perfectly with it.

In a matter of minutes, the fish is finished, and Jimin is gulping down the remaining soup. He pulls back, licking his lips and sighs in satisfaction. His stomach is warm from the soup. He’s not shivering that much from the rain anymore. He actually feels…cozy and it’s incredibly weird to him. Something foreign almost. He places the bowl back into the bag and crawls back into his hiding place. Curling up, yawning, he thinks of you and quietly mumbles a thank you before falling fast asleep.

It is a couple of days later when you return, bandage wrapped around your arm. Jimin growls in annoyance and begrudgingly relief. You seem..okay from his scratch.

Stupid human can’t follow a stupid task.

“I come bearing a peace offering,” you smile, holding out two bags.

Jimin’s eyes study the bags and then trail up your hand and to your arm. Annoyingly, in his opinion, guilt racks up. You notice his eyes glued to your arm and you wave your hand.

“Don’t worry about. My friend Jin said it would be fine.”

You lock eyes for a mere second before he’s immediately spitting back, “Like I care.”

He averts his eyes, letting out a loud huff. You sit down, slowly sliding one bag towards him. He views the action from the corner of his eyes. What are you doing? He turns his head just a bit to get a better view and his eyes widen.

“What are you doing?” he practically screeches as you pull out your lunch for the day.

“Taking my lunch break. What else?” you tease, waving the take out container in your hand. “Would you care to join me?”

“No.”

You shrug your shoulders and open your container. “Suit yourself, buddy.”

You begin eating and Jimin rolls his eyes, crossing his arms and looking away. Again, he repeats the same mantra from last time.

Ignore it.

His stomach rumbles and if you heard it, you make no move to comment and instead, continue to happily eat.

“Wow, this chicken is to die for. Compliments to the chef,” you groan, giving a chef’s kiss. “Sure you don’t want any?”

He knows what your game is. You’re just trying to rile him up to eat the food so that you can do whatever you want with him. No, not this time. It won’t work. After you leave, he’ll throw the food away. He is sure of it.

“I am positive I don’t want your shitty food,” he snaps.

You wince, putting a hand to your chest. “Ouch buddy, that hurt.”

“Not your fucking buddy either,” he growls in annoyance.

“Just slash at my feelings, why don’t yah?”

“Gladly.”

That is his last and final word. You finish your lunch, taking one glance at the hybrid and leave. Jimin sits there and makes a move to throw out the food. He hesitantly reaches out but backs away. His eyebrows furrow at his dilemma. On one hand, should he waste food like that? That would be wrong of him. On another, did you poison the food this time? Can he really trust that you didn’t?

He lasts a total of five minutes before he’s digging into the food. Maybe, just maybe, you’re a decent human. Just maybe.

It takes you weeks to earn the still nameless hybrid’s trust. Even then, it was only a small amount. At least you could sit closer together and talk about random things. That’s why it surprises you when he meekly asks if he can go with you this time.

You widen your eyes at his request. “What?”

“When you leave, can I go with you? Y/N, please?” His ears are flattened against his head and his tail is curled around his waist.

“I don’t even know your name-”

“Jimin. It’s um, Jimin.” He blurts out. He clears his throat, face flushed, eyes looking at every thing but you.

“Jimin…” you whisper, the name so foreign on your tongue. “Pretty name. What made you want to come with me?”

“I…” he didn’t expect that question. “I don’t know. You just seem…comforting, I guess? I don’t know, it was stupid. I’m sorry-”

You cut him off. “Shh, it’s not stupid. I’m glad that I seem comforting to you. My answer is yes, you can come home with me.”

His eyes widen and it’s the first time you have ever seen him smile that wide before. You hope you’ll see that smile even more in the future.

“And this is your room!” You gesture with your arm. “I had to quickly clean it since I honestly didn’t think you would come with me so forgive me if it’s still a bit dusty.” You walk in but he doesn’t follow. You turn around towards him, cocking your head. “Jimin?”

Jimin can’t say anything. This is all for him? But, he didn’t do anything to deserve it. He didn’t please you. He didn’t let you use him as a personal punching bag for your frustrations. This is a trick. It has to be. No one is this kind to a stranger, especially a hybrid. A hybrid who hurt you. For fuck’s sake, he scratched you. Yeah, he wanted to come home with you and yeah, he did say you were comforting but he expected that you would make him share the same room or something. He didn’t know what to expect. Just not this.

“Jimin?” Your soothing voice lures him out of his mess he calls his thoughts.

“I-I can’t accept this room, Y/N.”

You must’ve pulled a face or something because Jimin is immediately tense, ready to dash right back out on to the streets.

“Why?” is the only thing you ask.

“What?”

“Why can’t you accept the room?”

He wraps his arms around himself, his tail joining them. “Never had this before. This much kindness thrown at me. Expected to..pay you in return.”

“It’s yours now, Jimin. No payment needed.”

“Why are you so kind to me?”

His question throws you off-guard and it takes you a minute to answer. You brush the lint off of his comforter. “Because you deserve it. I can only assume you’ve been through hell and back. Why not live the rest of your life peacefully?”

“Thank you.”

With that, you smile and leave him be in his new room. A couple of hours later, he joins you for dinner. Whatever you made smells heavenly. Quietly sitting down, he watches as you put the pot on the table in between you two. The bowls are already set and you serve him first before serving yourself. He mutters a “thank you”.

“Dig in, Jimin. I hope you’ll like it. New recipe I’m trying out,” you hum, taking a spoon full of the stew and blowing on it. He waits until you take a bite first. You smile in satisfaction as the spicy fish stew came out perfectly. Just the right amount of spice. He should’ve known better, really. You never wanted to hurt him in the first place but old habits die hard and he finds himself gauging your reaction to the food. You didn’t trick him before, you didn’t poison him at all, so why should this meal be different? Maybe it’s because he’s on your turf now. He waits and when he deems the food is safe enough to eat since you aren’t spasming out of control from poison or getting sleepy from a sedative, he digs in.

Wow.

You’re an amazing cook.

It doesn’t take Jimin even 5 minutes to finish his bowl and your heart aches just a little at the mere thought of him being hungry ever again.

“Must’ve been good?” You tease light-heartedly. Jimin nods, licking his lips clean. “Want a second bowl?”

His eyes widen at the aspect and you only take his bowl to fill it up again. Jimin wastes no time finishing the second one. He feels all warm, fuzzy even and he looks down at his stomach in confusion. This is a familiar feeling. A feeling he had on the day you two met. It takes him a good solid minute, weighing the pros and cons of asking you if you had made that soup. Would you think it was weird if he told you he had remembered the fuzzy feeling? Would you think it was weird if he told you that that was the only time he had ever felt close to home? Finally, he concludes that either way, he needs to know because he cannot stand the stupid curiosity that’s nagging him.

“I..I have a question,” Jimin mumbles.

You nod, gulping down the remaining water from your cup. “Shoot.”

He looks around the room as he hesitantly asks, “Did, did you..you know, that soup..”

“Soup? What soup?”

“You know, that soup.”

“I’m not following, Jiminie?”

His face heats up at your nickname for him but you don’t seem to realize that you even said it in the first place. He finally blurts out, “The one that you gave me the first time we met! Did you cook it?”

“Oh.”

“I just,” he continues. “It was the only time I ever felt..I don’t know. Nevermind- it’s stupid.”

“Yes.”

“What?” Did you actually think it was-

“Yes, I made it. I wanted you to have a homemade meal. And I was apologizing to you so I thought it would be a bit more..special I guess.”

“Thank you..”

You both clean the dishes, wash up and head to bed. Jimin is finally alone to just process everything. This could be a home for him. He lays down, relishing in the softness of the bed. He wraps himself with the comforter. It smells so nice and it feels so warm and so..homey. Yawning, he doesn’t notice the smile creeping up on his face as he closes his eyes, sleep taking over.

A couple of weeks have passed and having Jimin around is such a delight. Not having to come home to an empty apartment feels so much better. He helps you clean, he accompanies you when you’re watching something on the tv. He lets you ramble about your day at the coffee shop. It takes Jimin a while to grow used to being here. And not everything is so pleasant. Countless of times, Jimin has woken up from night terrors, from flashbacks of that place. And this time isn’t any different.

It’s around 4 in the morning when Jimin wakes up, his eyes flying open from the nightmare. Gasping for air, he looks around. Everything seems so hazy, so dark. All he can remember is him screaming for you.

Oh no, oh no, oh no. You’re not going to give him away, right? Right?

You weren’t anywhere in sight and he could feel himself panicking. He rapidly jumps up, trying to find the light switch or the curtains or something to give light. To give him hope that you hadn’t sneakily sold him back to her. He trips over something and reaches out his hand, grasping a cloth and pulling it down with him. Moon light floods the room and he curls up, sobbing and shaking. His heart is racing and he silently begs for you to appear.

You jolt awake at the loud “thunk” coming from somewhere in your apartment. You jump up, grabbing your baseball bat and tip toe out of your room. Hearing whimpers from Jimin’s room, you drop the bat and rush in.

“Jimin, oh my god, are you okay?” you ask alarmed, freeing him. He’s shaking all over, eyes closed and arms wrapped around himself.

“Please tell me I’m not there again. I don’t wanna go back. Please, please please..” He repeatedly mumbles. “I’m a good boy. I’ll be a better boy, I promise. Please, just don’t take me there.”

Without thinking, you wrap your arms around him, rocking him back and forth. “I promise on everything holy that I will never leave you. I will never let you go back there, Jimin.”

He sobs into your shoulder, gripping tightly at your t-shirt. His tail wraps around you, and you stroke his head.

“Shh, I’ve got you. You’re here, you’re home. It’s okay, you’re safe. I promise,” you whisper. After a long time, Jimin grounds himself and he pulls back to see you, worry filling your eyes and tears at the brim of them.

“Y/N,” he mumbles, diving right back into your arms. You only rub his back in soothing motions.

That was the first night ever that he had asked you to stay in his room.

The next morning while you’re making a delicious breakfast for the both of you, he stalks into the kitchen. You hum a little at his presence, asking him if he is okay. He hums in agreement and stares at you. You, already used to him just staring at you, studying your movements, continue cooking. He walks up behind you, ears pinned back, arms opening up.

He back hugs you.

You’re startled for a moment and it makes him hesitate to tighten his grip but when you don’t move away, just slightly humming as you continue to cook, he smiles, ever so slightly, tautening his hold.

“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me,” he murmurs into your back, so quietly that you have a hard time hearing him. But you hear him. He buries his head into your back, inhaling your comforting scent. “Thank you.”

That’s when you realize that the future for the both of you would be much brighter from here on.

#bts #bts jimin #bts jimin x reader #bts jimin x male reader #bts angst #bts fanfic #bts yoongi #bts hybrid fic #bts hybrid x reader #bts x reader #bts namjoon #bts hoseok #bts hybrid x male reader #bts x male reader

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ro-acharya · 3 years

Text

Three Spicy Cats and Zero Rain Jackets || Ulfric & Ro

@ulfricvinterson

Alright, so progress with the feral cat was slow. Ro would be the first to admit that.

The problem wasn’t the lack of their blooming friendship, however, but the fact that every other time Ro saw her, she had a belly full of babies. He could always tell when she was pregnant because of her hesitation at the fence; when she was high in spirits and low on kittens, she could hop from from each plank with ease. When the opposite was true, she sat on the grass in deep contemplation, large green eyes staring up at the fence as if planning alternate routes.

He didn’t think anything would actually happen that day. Ro had simply gone to lay a trap down in the alleyway the cat always wandered off to, slipping pieces of turkey underneath to lure her in. He had just packed all his things when he heard hesitant footsteps followed by a loud yowl--

The cat.

The cat had followed him.

“Holy shit,” he muttered, sprinting to check the trap. When he opened the latch to peer inside, the large Maine Coon darted out, claws in full swing.

What he didn’t expect to see was another cat.

And another one.

Oh my God, were they having a cat orgy?

What started as a benign day turned into a full-on rat race, with Ro desperately tailing after his cat and trying to fend off the others, deli meat still folded up in his pants pocket.

“C’mon, get, get--” he called, tossing wayward pieces of turkey at the tom cats.

This did little to stop them, however, and Ro ran knees-first into a garbage can sitting behind a tattoo parlor. He recoiled in pain, cursing under his breath.

“Oh my god,” he said as the two tom cats pounced on his jeans.

Then he felt a drizzle of rain on his skin.

“Oh my god.”

#p: ulfric #p: three spicy cats

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ghost-writing · 4 years

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Fee+Bear 2/?? - Home (Henry Cavill fanfic)

This is a re-post from my other blog… I’ve decided to post my writing on a separate page, it’ll be easier to access like that.

I’ve edited this a little, but there might still be some spelling mistakes & grammatical errors. (English is not my 1st language!) So, if you see something that irks you, please tell me! :)

Word count: almost 1.8k

Warnings: brief mentions of sex, AND SOPPY SUGARY FLUFF.

This is a prequel of this, but there might be some inconsistencies in the Fee+Bear stories, as it’s more a collection of one-shots, so be warned!

The sun is shining outside London. For once, the weather is great, even if a bit cold. But after spending most of the day in the garden playing with the kids and the dogs, Sofia decides to retreat to her office, because the script for episode 6 is not gonna check itself. And it needs to be sent to twins John and Paul, the writers and showrunners, for their own corrections, with still enough time left to print the final version for the whole cast and crew.

There are a lot of people depending on her now: she’s not just the star, but also one of the executive producers of her new show. A show that she’s abandoned a lot for, that she’s invested a lot in. She was working hard for it before, and is working even harder now that the lock-down is finally over, to make up for lost time.

Work is a lot on its own, but she also wants to be there for Gigi and Noah. Carmen and Elena had moved to London with her, and she owed them a huge debt for that. Their presence allowed her to dedicate herself to rehearsing and filming during the week, but she insisted on staying at home on the weekends as much as possible. Her schedule was so full, she was sure no man would have wanted to be included in that constant chaos, but Henry was not any man. He worked hard too, but came to spent most of his free time with her and her kids, instead of partying or doing whatever he used to do before they got together. She had sworn not to rush back into a relationship so quickly after her divorce, but he changed her mind easily. From the moment he met the kids, blissful, happy moments were the norm in their home when he was around.

But right now, she has to work just a little to be able to enjoy the rest of the 4-day weekend they had managed to squeeze into their extra tight work schedule. (Just one more proof that Henry was committed to their relationship.) And the quicker she gets it done, the sooner she’ll be free of it. She knows that, but she’d pushed it to later several times already.

The room is cool, which Sofia welcomes after the overheating she endured in the garden. Even in shorts and a top, the intense playing made her blood boil. But maybe that was because Henry took of his t-shirt at some point… Of course, the cat had followed her, trying to escape the ruckus Kal, Kit and the humans made (the big one being the loudest), bothering his fifth nap of the day. Sirius knows that in here, he’ll find peace and quiet, and maybe some belly rubs.

Sofia grabs the small stack of paper that’s been sitting on her desk for almost two days now, a purple pen (her designated colour for corrections, the twins using blue and green), her phone and headphones, and goes to lay on the sofa, the huge Maine Coon in tow. As soon as she settles, her head resting on a big cushion at one end, facing the door, and her bare legs and feet on the other end, Sirius looks for the best spot: her belly isn’t large enough for him to curl up in a ball on, and there’s not enough space for his large fluffy body between her and the back of the couch.

Sofia lets out a slightly annoyed sigh. “Can’t you decide already?” The black feline lifts his majestic head and looks at her right in the eyes with those enormous green marbles of his, as if to argue that this is the most important part of his routine. She melts, as usual. “Alright, baby.” She lifts him up, kisses his forehead and pets him gently, long enough for him to purr for a moment, and places him on the armrest, above her feet. She knows that in ten minutes tops, he’ll get down from there to get closer to her, demanding attention, but at least, she’ll cool down before having to deal with him. She puts the headset on, turns on some heavy rock music, like she always does when she needs to concentrate, and begins to read.

She’s about halfway through her task, and Sirius has moved spot three times, when Henry’s head peaks through the door.

“What?”, she says, taking the headphones off.

“Can I come in? I have to make a phone call.”

“Sure!” She smiles at him. “And you also need to hide from my adorable but exhausting kids, don’t you?” She winks.

He sighs deeply. “I do love them, but they. never. stop.” After removing Sirius with the utmost care and putting him gently on the ground, he sits next to her. The tiger looks at him with disdain, making Henry recoil a bit, before searching for another position of power.

“It’s all your fault, Cavill!” She brings her legs closer to her upper body to give more room to the big man. “Don’t be so goddamn nice to them, and they’ll play with each other, instead of always asking you to entertain them!”

“I tried, but I can’t say no to them! Gigi always makes that sad puppy face, and I cave… Every time!”

“Superman defeated by a pouting 6 year old… Batman’s got nothing on my girl”, she mocks. “Ok, make your call and let me finish this, please! When I’ll be done, I can teach you how to fight off the Evil Curly Dragon and her sidekick, Deadly Birdie.” She puts the headphones back on, not waiting for her boyfriend to groan at her.

Henry calls a friend or one of his brothers, presumably. She turned the music down to a more acceptable level, and she can hear him laugh. She can’t help but peak out from behind the sheets of paper every now and then: he smiles, he frowns, he makes gestures with his hands, fully immersed in his conversation. She forces herself to concentrate on her work.

Minutes pass, she’s getting close to the end of the script. Sirius is now resting on top of the sofa’s back, close to her, his legs lazily dangling on each side. His butt is turned towards his rival for Sofia’s affection, showing his disapproval.

Immersed in her script, Sofia suddenly realizes that Henry’s hand is resting on her legs. Her bare feet were now pushing on his meaty thigh, as she was looking for warmth, subconsciously. She always had cold feet, and Henry was hot in more than one way. He starts moving up from her feet, slowly caressing the ankle, then up the calf, lightly massaging the muscle with the pulp of his fingers. She looks at him, ready to scold him for distracting her, but he’s still talking over the phone, apparently unaware of what his hand his doing. He’s gone a bit quieter, so she can’t hear what he says.

From the corner of his eyes, he sees her looking at him. His hand leaves her briefly, gesturing for her to take off the headphones.

“Mum says hello!”

“Hello, Marianne! See you soon!”

“You heard that? Yeah, maybe in…”

She puts the headphones back on, decided on finishing her task rapidly. But his hand is back on her leg. His whole palm is rubbing her calf now, going back down to her feet.

“God, this is divine…”, she thinks. Henry is very tactile, and she always welcomes his gentle touch. Thinking of it, they had barely shared a moment alone yet this weekend, just the two of them… They arrived really late on Thursday night, exhausted, so she just snuggled in his arms as they both fell asleep rapidly. The children had been all over them from early Friday morning. Only last night did they finally make time for some intimacy, but they were still tired, so they did what they had to do, and quickly called it a night. Maybe he was attempting something now… She couldn’t deny it was slowly putting her in the mood.

Until he touches her sole with his thumb, which makes her wiggle her toes at the tickling feeling. She puts the script down harshly, slapping it on her thighs. He silently apologizes, continuing his conversation with his mother. This time, his hand stays still on her legs, not going back to his delightful ministrations. And she feels like pouting at him just like her daughter, to make him start again. No, she has to finish work first!

A few minutes later, she sighs with pride and relief, closing the script and throwing it in direction of the desk. It bumps on it and falls on the ground, the noise making Sirius flinch and almost fall from his perch. She turns to face Henry, who’s looking at her, a grin on his face.

As soon as she takes her headphones off, he queries “Finished now?”

“Almost! I just have to scan it and send it to the twins!”

“Can you do that a little later?” He places his hand on her exposed thigh, his expression speaking without the need for words.

“Why would I wait?”, she replies, as innocently as she can, while he stretches his gorgeous body above hers, one of his knees placed between her legs. She can feel the heat emanating from his broad chest, flowing down to her stomach, and lower.

“Because your legs are cold, and I have to warm you up… Should we go to your bedroom?”

He dives his nose in her neck, his stubble scratching at her skin deliciously, his lips and tongue tracing a wet trail on her veins and nerves. They’ve been together less than four months, but he very quickly found all of her weak spots. Only four months, but things got serious between them even before they actually could start. After talking to each other almost everyday over the phone for several months, it did not feel like they were rushing into anything thoughtlessly. Maybe it was time for another step forward…

“Our bedroom?”, she asks.

He lifts his head from her neck and looks at her, not talking for a moment. She feels worried that he won’t agree. But he kisses her lips, and she kisses him back, her arms grabbing his neck while he wraps her legs around his waist. She pushes him gently with one hand, breaking the deep kiss, needing a clear answer.

“To our bedroom, then!”, he says, the biggest of smiles illuminating his face.

#fanfic #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fluff #fluff #with a dash of smut #Fee+Bear

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oldguardaudio · 7 years

Text

Windham Weaponry News -> Windham Weaponry 6.5 Creedmoor Rifle

Windham Weaponry at HoaxAndChange.com

Windham Weaponry @ Hoax and Change

Vol. 6 / Issue #8 / Aug. 2017

MARKETING NEWS

Mark Eliason, VP Sales & Marketing

In the history of long range competition shooting, there may not be any more famous name than Creedmoor.

Competition shooting was very popular in the last half of the 19th Century, and the newly formed National Rifle Association (1871) worked with the New York State legislature to acquire and develop 70 acres of land bought from a Mr. Creed near what is now Queens, New York on Long Island. The Creedmoor Rifle Range was opened in June of 1873 for the purpose of holding matches and promoting long-distance rifle shooting.

In 2007, Hornady developed the 6.5mm Creedmoor centerfire rifle cartridge which while a close cousin to the .300 Winchester Magnum in trajectory, offers the benefits of lower recoil and shorter case length – enabling it to work in the AR-10 platform.

So, following on the success of our Windham Weaponry .308 models, we proudly introduce the Windham Weaponry 6.5 Creedmoor Rifle. Featured below, and with full details at www.windhamweaponry.com this 20″ barreled tack driver offers an appealing combination of features and accessories for the dedicated long distance shooter. Take one out to the range, and you’re sure to make Mr. Creed proud!

To see all our rifles and accessories, go to www.windhamweaponry.com

or call us for a free catalog (1-855-808-1888) – We would love to hear from you.

As always, hunt and shoot safely, and feel free to contact us with any AR related questions.

This Month’s Feature Rifle:

Windham Weaponry 6.5 Creedmoor Rifle

Caliber: 6.5 Creedmoor

Type: Rifle, Semi-Automatic, Gas Impingement System

Weight/Length: 9.15 lbs. / 39.25″ overall

Magazine: 5 Rounds (Ships with one 5 Round Magazine) Receivers: Forged 7075 T6 Aluminum Flat Top Upper. Lower has Integral Aluminum Trigger Guard Receiver Finish: Hardcoat Black Anodized Finish with Laser Engraved Caliber Marking

Trigger: Hiperfire EDT3 Trigger

Bolt: Carpenter 158 Steel

Barrel: 20″ Fluted Stainless Steel. Threaded Muzzle (5/8″ x 24 T.P.I.) to accept various muzzle devices. Includes Stainless Steel Muzzle Protector.

Barrel Material: 416R Stainless Steel

Rifling: 1 x 8″ Right Hand Twist

Stock: Luth-AR Buttstock with adjustable butt plate & cheek rest

Forend: WW 15″ Free Floating Forend

Pistol Grip: Hogue Overmolded Beavertail Pistol Grip

Rear Sight: None – Ready for optics or other type accessory sights

Front Sight: None – Ready for accessory sight on Railed Forend

Includes: Lockable Hard Plastic Gun Case, Full Color Operators Manual, Transferable Lifetime Warranty, and Black Web Sling

MSRP: $1732.75

See your local FFL Dealer to purchase.

If you ever have questions about your rifle, please feel free to call

Windham Weaponry Customer Service (Toll Free: 1-855-808-1888). Shoot Safely!

FROM THE GUNSMITH’S BENCH

Erik Winter, Windham Weaponry Gunsmith

TOPIC: Installation of the Arms Unlimited Ambidextrous Magazine Catch

First make sure the rifle is unloaded, and then separate the upper receiver from the lower receiver.

Using the chamber plug or another small tool, push the magazine catch button in as far as you can into the receiver. Unscrew the mag catch from the button and remove.

Insert the ambi magazine catch all the way into its slot in the receiver and push the magazine catch spring in with the button and get the button started on the threads of the mag catch. Turn it in until you can turn it no further.

Push the button in as far as you can into the receiver and turn the ambi magazine catch in about 4 or 5 turns then let it seat into the receiver. The magazine catch stud should be flush with or just under the face of the magazine catch button.

Now you can unlock the magazine with the trigger finger of either hand.

BUY IT NOW

CUSTOMER SERVICE CORNER

Cheryl Eliason, Customer Service Manager

This Month’s Question is:

I am interested in your 7.62x39mm rifle – Model R16M4FTT-762.

Will standard AK magazines fit this rifle?

Answer:

No, AK type magazines do not work in our 7.62×39 rifle. The magazine needs to be an AR style magazine to be able to be retained properly in the lower receiver. The magazines we are currently shipping with our 7.62×39 rifles (shown ) are heavy steel construction and designed for that cartridge.

Magazines designed to be used in an AR15 platform in the 7.62x39mm caliber should work.

Here is the AR Platform 30 Round 7.62 Magazine that we sell:

https://shop.windhamweaponry.com/products/8448670-762×39

Questions?

Send them to: [email protected] or [email protected]

WINDHAM WEAPONRY FEATURED PRODUCTS

Matt Hasty, Retail Sales Manager

Magpul M-Lok BiPod Mount

PART#: BIPOD-ADPT-MLOK Price: $22.95

The Magpul M-LOK Bipod Mount allows for the attachment of Harris®-style stud mounted bipods to M-LOK compatible hand guards and forends. This Mount offers a low-profile, robust, and elegant mounting solution for the most common bipods on the market. By utilizing the direct-connect properties of the M-LOK system, the bipod sits closer to the mounting surface than other adapters while providing superior support to the bipod for strength and stability. The Bipod Mount is also compatible with other accessories that attach to traditional sling studs. Machined from milspec-anodized aluminum, the M-LOK Bipod Mount also features beveled ends and corners to reduce snagging and sharp edges. All hardware necessary for attachment directly to M-LOK Slots on either aluminum or polymer hand guards and forends is included. Max overall length of 2.33 in. Made by Magpul in the U.S.A.

BUY IT NOW…

Want to Order? or If You Have Questions?

Call Customer Service / Sales 1-855-808-1888

LAW ENFORCEMENT

Todd J. Coons, VP Law Enforcement & International Sales

WHAT’S NEW IN LAW ENFORCEMENT

As many of you know, Cindy and I also handle the International Sales here at Windham Weaponry. This, along with the LE sales in the US, is keeping us very busy, but I just wanted to share that as of this week Windham Weaponry is now shipping to 31 countries! This is for both commercial sales as well as government sales around the world. We are very excited about all of our new calibers and configurations so please feel free to reach out to Cindy or me for special LE/Military pricing on any of the new items. We also have some opportunities for those of you out there to attend one of our armorer’s courses around the country. Here is a link with those current opportunities, but please check back as we are working on adding a few more locations to the list very soon.

https://www.windhamweaponry.com/law-enforcement/law-enforcement-training

To qualify to attend a class you must have at least one of the following; Hold a current and valid permit to carry concealed, have a current FFL or work for a business that has a current and valid FFL, Be an active police officer or a retired officer covered under HR218.

Please reach out to my assistant Cindy Thompson, or me with any questions or to sign up for one of our classes. [email protected] or [email protected]

Stay safe out there,

Todd J. Coons

Vice President, Law Enforcement & International Sales

In this Section, we encourage our customers & friends to send their comments, photos and experiences with Windham Weaponry products. What are you doing with your Windham?

A fine shooter, and customer, in Arizona sent us a

target photo of

the dime sized group he shot with his

Windham Weaponry R16SFST – 308.

He says:

Attached is a photo indicating just how accurate your R16SFST – 308 rifle barrel is. Keep up the good work!

100 yard load work-up 168 grain Sierra MatchKing BTHP IMR 4895 Powder

**********

Please feel free to send your photos, stories and Windham Weaponry experiences to:

[email protected] We look forward to hearing from you!

There is something going on EVERY DAY

at the Windham Indoor Shooting Range.

Here is a Direct Link to buy Muddy Girl Rifle Raffle Tickets:

https://www.windhamindoorshootingrange.com/product-page/raffle-ticket-to-benefit-making-strides

For more details on all that the

Windham Indoor Shooting Range & Retail Store

has to offer every day, see:

www.windhamindoorshootingrange.com

The Windham Indoor Shooting Range, where “Training Begins at the Door.”

999 Roosevelt Trail / Windham, Maine 04062 / Tel.: 207-892-0274

Windham Weaponry News -> Windham Weaponry 6.5 Creedmoor Rifle Windham Weaponry News -> Windham Weaponry 6.5 Creedmoor Rifle Vol. 6 / Issue #8 / Aug. 2017…

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