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junkissed · 1 year

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after dark

member — boyfriend!jun x f reader genre — smut word count — 2k synopsis — jun and you agree to try something new, and you don't realize how much you enjoy it. smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, somnophilia, but it is very explicitly consensual!!, unprotected sex, thigh riding, some praise bc jun is still a soft boy notes — requested by 💤 anon — this was so fun to write holy shit aksgdfj. lots of love to @onlymingyus and @duhnova for reading for me! header pic creds are to @/000scans. i hope you all enjoy! :)

when jun first brought up somnophilia to you, you didn’t think much of it. you definitely thought it was hot, but you didn’t see yourself as the kind of person who would do it often. you’d never been so horny you couldn’t fall asleep, and you’d never woken up in the middle of the night desperate enough to even consider it.

that is, until tonight.

you’d been having such a good dream—such a hot dream—about jun, and his lips on your body had felt so real it had startled you awake, your cunt throbbing and your cheeks burning hot.

you glance over at your boyfriend, still perfectly sound asleep next to you. tiny snores leave his pretty lips, and suddenly you feel a wave of heat wash over you. the way his eyes are gently closed, lashes fluttering in his sleep and loose strands of hair falling across his eyebrows, drives you crazy. so soft and sweet, blissfully unaware of how you’re already soaking through your panties.

you hesitate for a moment, debating whether or not you should wake him up or go hide in the bathroom and finger yourself instead, not wanting to disturb him.

but you remember the conversation you’d had a few days ago. he wanted this, he’d explicitly asked you to use him whenever you wanted, even if he was asleep; both of you had agreed to be available for each other’s pleasure any day or night, and now was a better opportunity than ever for it.

your eyes fall to his exposed chest, rising and falling with each small breath. he never sleeps with a shirt on when the weather warms up, and you’re mentally both cursing him and thanking him for it.

in the darkness you can just barely make out the lines of his collarbones and the shadows they cast across the grooves in his neck. your eyes trail down his chest to his nipples, already stiffened from the ceiling fan blowing cool air around the room.

before you can think twice you’re imagining all the times you’ve run your hands along his body, feeling the firmness of his chest beneath your fingertips and the softness of his skin, tracing the toned definition of his abs.

you want to reach out and touch him again, but you’re afraid you’ll wake him. but at the same time, you want him to wake up and find you so needy, rubbing your thighs together beneath the covers as you watch him sleep.

after another minute of painful staring you finally push the covers down below your waist, slowly scooting closer to jun’s sleeping body. when he doesn’t move, you carefully hoist your leg in between his, sinking down to straddle his thigh.

immediately you sigh in relief, grateful to finally feel something firm pressing against your aching cunt to relieve some of the pressure.

you stay still for a second, making sure he hasn’t woken up before you start to rock your hips back and forth. you can already feel your panties sticking to your folds, your wetness seeping out onto his boxer shorts.

you choke back a whimper, starting to grind down harder on his leg as you get more and more frantic. you’re struggling to stay quiet, so you lift your hand to stick two of your own fingers in your mouth, giving you something to bite down on. your other hand grips at the sheets at jun’s side, trying so hard not to make noise but you can’t help the whines that escape you as you desperately ride his thigh.

suddenly you feel jun’s hips lift a little, chasing your movements and you squeak in surprise, fingers falling out of your mouth. your heart races as your gaze flies to his face to check if he’s awake; his eyes remain closed, but a small smile is beginning to form on his lips.

you feel his hands slowly slide up to your waist, holding onto your hips tightly to help guide you along his thigh.

“doing so good, baby,” he mumbles, his voice still thick with sleep and so deep it sends shivers straight to your pussy.

“fuck– sorry, junnie, was t-trying not to wake you,” you stammer, and his grip tightens as he drags your hips faster and faster.

“don’t be sorry,” he purrs, eyes still closed. “making you feel so good, aren’t i?”

“yes, fuck—so good, more, please,” you moan in response, and he bends his knee, giving you a new angle to work with.

you push your hips down harder, the friction of his boxers and your panties rubbing against your clit at just the right angle to bring you right up to the edge.

you feel like your breathing stops when you finally stumble into your orgasm, mouth open with no sound coming out as your pussy gushes all over his leg. your hips stop but his hands keep going, pulling and pushing you along his thigh like he’s the one getting off instead of you, fucking you through the most intense orgasm of your life while both of you are still clothed.

finally he slows down and lets go of your hips, letting you fall forward onto his bare chest, your breath coming out in short pants. sweat drips down your neck from the exertion and your heartbeat pounds in your ears, but jun just lifts a tired hand to push your hair out of your face.

“so proud of you, baby, you did so good.”

you whine in embarrassment and hoist your legs off of him, but his words bring up butterflies in your stomach. it’s not long before your eyes become heavy and you fall asleep in his arms, thoroughly satisfied.

it’s not long after that night that jun wakes you up for the first time.

unconsciously you feel the room heat up, and as you come out of your sleep you begin to register the little gasps coming from above you.

you stir, adjusting your head against the pillow before you pry your eyes open to see jun kneeling over you, chest heaving for breath and his hair slick with sweat.

“junnie?” you call out softly, still mostly asleep as you start to process what’s going on. you sit up on your elbows, and that’s when you notice the liquid on your stomach.

you blink a couple times, glancing down to find yourself covered in jun’s cum, warm and sticky all over your lower half. you look back up at your boyfriend, a sleepy smile across your face.

he groans as he tucks his softening cock back into his underwear, leaning down to press his lips against yours gently. “you don’t know how fucking beautiful you look when you’re sleeping,” he sighs into your mouth. “gets me so fucking hard. just the sight of you, my pretty baby.”

you whine and lean back, falling into the sheets as he slides off the bed. you force yourself to stay awake until he returns a few moments later, a cool washcloth in his hand as he wipes his cum off of you.

once he’s done he tosses the cloth on the nightstand, slipping back into bed and rubbing his hand along your stomach as you let your eyes fall shut again.

he leans over to kiss your cheek. “thank you, darling. always so good for me,” he whispers, and you hum happily, quickly succumbing to sleep once more. you could really get used to this.

a week later you awake in the middle of the night to find jun grinding his cock on your leg, rutting his hips against you.

you pry your eyes open and turn your head to face him, placing your hand on his chest to get his attention.

“baby, please,” he rasps, his hands falling to your waist to pull you against him in rhythm with his thrusts. “‘m so close, need you so bad.”

you slide your hand down his body, stopping when you find his cock, throbbing and painfully hard against your thigh.

fighting through the sleepy haze in your mind you roll onto your side facing him and push your panties down your legs with a whine. “want you to fuck me, jun, please. use me.”

if you could’ve seen through the darkness you would’ve seen his eyes widen and his cheeks flush at your words, but you can only feel his hands prying your legs apart as he slides his cock between your folds. you can feel his fingertips holding you so tightly it’s likely they’ve left bruises, and you can feel the leaking head of his cock rocking against you.

he slips into you and you whimper, your half-asleep state making the feeling of his cock stretching you open both heightened and lessened. your brain short circuits when he finally sheathes himself fully inside of you, mouth hanging open as you struggle to put words together in your head.

even without all your senses you can tell he’s struggling to hold himself back from fucking you at the pace he wants, trying to give you a moment to get your bearings first.

but you don’t care. you need him to fuck you, need to feel him release and know that you’re the one bringing him pleasure even when you’re doing nothing at all. even when you’re asleep, completely dead to the world, you’re still the only one that can get him off, and it makes your ego soar.

“jun, please, harder,” you moan, your voice already hoarse though you’ve barely said a word tonight. “need you to go harder.”

he groans and doesn’t respond, instead pulling out of you nearly all the way before slamming his cock into you, immediately setting a brutal pace. you can already feel that he’s close, and you clench around him with all your strength, trying to bring his orgasm closer.

he whines out your name, and you whine out his, both equally desperate to finish. with your body pressed against his front you can feel his abs expand and contract with each stroke, his muscles tightening as he builds himself up.

you’re not surprised that you’re already close to your own orgasm; just how he gets off at the thought of you, the thought of him is enough to make you cum in seconds and leave you breathless.

without warning your orgasm washes over you, your whole body trembling in his arms as his hips falter and he struggles to keep up his pace with an airy moan.

he squeezes his eyes shut, continuing to fuck you through your high until you’ve regained enough of your senses. he thrusts into you a few more times until he pulls out at the last possible second, his cum exploding onto your hips and thighs as he jerks his fist up and down along his cock to make sure he’s released every last drop.

he leans over you, still reeling from your orgasm, and kisses your temple like he always does when you’re finished.

as much as he doesn’t want to leave your side he knows you probably (definitely) won’t want to wake up covered in his dried cum, so reluctantly he rolls off the bed to find a washcloth.

but when he returns you’re already sound asleep again, your powerful orgasm sending you back to dreamland just as fast as he’d pulled you out of it. wordlessly he cleans you up, making sure to get every crevice that you might complain about later and trying not to giggle out loud when he looks up to see you drooling on your pillow.

back under the covers he wraps his arms around you, pressing his lips to your cheek and resisting the urge to kiss you all over. he’d much rather save those for a time when you’re awake to enjoy them.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging with tags or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

> taglist | @wonderfulshinee @noniestars @onlymingyus @just-here-to-read-01 @wonuziex @enhacolor @yourfavoritefreakyhan @dkakapizzaboy @zozojella @rainyjeno @jwnghyuns @photographic-girl @uwuheeseungie @miriamxsworld

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#1k #k-labels #kflixnet #[📌] — june.writes #jun smut #junhui smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt imagines #svt scenarios #jun imagines #jun scenarios #junhui imagines #junhui scenarios #svt fanfic #seventeen fanfic #jun fanfic

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henrysfox · 4 months

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hello, i am back for once. i have been writing A LOT recently, so i finally have something to share.

this time it's horny firstprince, don't let the header deceive you.

i was tagged by amber @taste-thewaste thank you, bestie <3

this is from a fic i'm working on where henry wakes up exceptionally horny and has to wait an entire day to take care of it, until he makes it back home to alex. xoxo

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He’s been thinking about it all day. He curses himself for not allowing himself any relief in the morning. He could have been a little late to work, Pez would have understood. He could have woken Alex up with kisses, or better yet, with his mouth on Alex’s cock, teasing the slit with his tongue, as his fingers… – well. This isn’t helping. He has to talk himself out of slipping into the bathroom at the shelter just to take the edge off. It would probably be frowned upon, the staff bathrooms aren’t exactly private. And he would never live it down if someone ever caught him. The thought makes a pleasant shiver run down his spine, and well. Maybe he should explore that at some other time. Preferably not when he’s at work, still has one more meeting to go and feels like he’s about to jump out of his skin. Truly, a strong gust of wind could be his undoing right now. He has to meet the potential donor in five minutes. There is no way he can hide the erection tenting his trousers right now. He thinks about calling Alex, but he’s probably in class. Even then, Henry doubts that hearing Alex’s voice would help with his current predicament. His cock twitches traitorously at the thought. Against his better judgement he rolls his hips in his chair once, twice, three times, before letting out a frustrated groan. His time is almost up. “Fuck,” he sighs. Get a fucking grip, Henry.

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i tag: @softboynick @captainjunglegym

and perhaps @lfg1986-2 if you're up for it?

leaving the tag open as well. if i have any other writer friends/mutuals/followers hit me up, i would love to read your stuff and tag you in things!

#some sentence sunday #aga writes #firstprince #firstprince fic #rwrb #rwrb fic #red white and royal blue

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jewishbarbies · 13 days

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I have three tumblr blogs that I use - my old main blog, a sideblog that’s essentially my primary blog, and then another sideblog for aesthetic posts. I barely post on my main blog anymore. It’s basically just there so I don’t have to restart from scratch with my other blogs lol. I haven’t gained followers on it in years and I certainly don’t have people sending me asks on it… until recently. Every day I wake up and I have like 3-4 new messages from people claiming to be Gazans and telling me to post their fundraiser links. On my unused main blog that’s like 11 years old. That hasn’t been updated since June, and since February before that. I post on there like twice a year at most.

It honestly is making me a bit uncomfortable lol. I get those messages on my other blogs and I usually delete them. I don’t know to vet them. I also don’t really post about the conflict as a whole (there’s not a lot to post as a non-Jew from America who wants peace for both countries and also believes Israel is allowed to exist lmao) so I’m like… idk, it just makes me feel weird that these spam blogs are now spamming my unused, decade old main blog. Like none of my blogs are safe from it lol. I’ve already gotten shit from followers on my other blogs for not believing/posting potential spam. I feel like it’s becoming a problem and nobody cares and it’s driving me crazy tbh

especially if you dealt with the porn bot surge, it’s so obvious that these asks are all spam bots. because no, gazans are not creating tungle blogs and sending mass copy paste messages to random blogs all day every day begging for money. I dare one of these “but we vetted it!” people to reverse image search the pfp, header, or any of the trauma porn images posted with no caption on these spam accounts. there’s already so many donation posts with actual ways to donate and send aid to gaza- why the fuck would anyone need to be pressured into sending money to an unverifiable person on the internet. it’s so dumb. people have been saying if you fall for these bots then you’d give your social security numbers to a nigerian prince in your email and they’re not wrong.

#Asks #anonymoose

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galaxietm · 6 years

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“THERE’S NO HEART YOUR SMILE CAN’T REACH.”

personals please dont reblog!!

#// me who hasnt actually promoted this blog in the year it's been a thing: ah yes; lets use the header as a promo #// idk what to tag this as its nearly 6:30am and ive been up all night #// nd theres not much activity and my stuff is still getting organized #// but i love this promo too much to NOT use it right away adsfdgfhg #// ill rb this twice today: once before i head to sleep and once way later on after i wake up #;; ‘follow dis cool peep’ ( promo tag.)#;; ‘am i a cool kid yet’ ( self promo tag.)

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pepedits · 6 years

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. . ⌨︎ wake me up layout ゞ♡！: jihyo and jeongyeon please give a ♥︎ or 🔄

#twice #wake me up #jihyo #jeongyeon #park jihyo #yoo jeongyeon #jeongyeon icons #twice jihyo #jihyo icons #twice packs #twice layouts #lq packs #lq layouts #jeongyeon packs #jeongyeon layouts #twice icons #twice wake me up #jihyo packs #jihyo layouts

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raibebe · 2 years

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New routine

Genre: fluff Words: 1.490 Prompt: Samoyed hybrid Jeno x fem. reader

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy?

A/N: I had Samoyed Jeno brainrot a couple of nights back and gave birth to this so I hope you enjoy it! Also please appreciate the gif-header, it took me way too long trying to make it look like the twitch layout without too much success :]

Hybridverse masterlist

“Hey guys, how are you? It’s been a while. I hope the prerecorded youtube videos were enough to bridge the time while I was gone,” Jeno giggled almost shyly into the camera, watching his viewers trickle in and the chat filling up with welcome back messages, his cute Samoyed emotes being used liberally by his subs. “I’ve been more than fine, thank you,” he smiled before reading out a bunch of resubs that had been happening during his short hiatus, happy that his audience didn’t seem to have forgotten about him. “Wow those were a lot, thank you so much for your support guys, it honestly means a lot,” he ended the seemingly endless reading, quickly taking a sip from his trusty Redbull. “Yeah, uhm. I still see a lot of people asking if I was sick or something because I look so tired… Which yeah… Sleeping has not been the easiest thing, especially with my heightened senses despite being able to puppy nap almost anywhere,” he interrupted himself with a shy giggle, feeling how his tail swished against the leather of his chair. “Yeah so, for those who aren’t following me on Twitter or Instagram… Two- no almost three weeks ago, my little pup was born. I’m a dad now. And my girlfriend and I decided that it was best if I took some time off of streaming so I could spend as much time as possible with them until the little one has settled into a somewhat regular routine with nursing and sleeping.” Pulling up the picture he had posted of a bundled up Haneul in his arms, only his way too big ears and fluffy tail visible, he shared his screen again to show the viewers who hadn’t seen it yet. “That’s my baby boy,” Jeno smiled, his eyes barely able to keep up with all the heart emotes and congratulations in chat. “Thank you so much, guys. We’ve been good. The pup and my girlfriend are both as healthy as they could be even though we’re both very tired. He sleeps really well but he’ll still wake up at least once a night because he’s hungry or simply because he wants some cuddles,” the Samoyed hybrid shared.

“Will you go back to your usual streaming schedule now? I don’t know yet, honestly. If I go back to three or four times a week, I’ll probably won’t stream as long? Being a first-time dad is exhausting, guys,” he laughed sheepishly, “We’re simply figuring out stuff as we’re going. Like my girlfriend is still high on hormones and can easily sleep way less than I do and be twice as energetic about it. She also already has nailed what the pup needs when he cries.” “You’ll learn that soon enough as well, don’t worry. Aaaah, that’s so sweet of you, thank you. I’m trying, I really am but sometimes he’ll just cry and cry until mommy takes him from me and he’s calm within a second. Which is just slightly offputting but he’s just more used to her I am guessing. And she is his primary source of food so there’s that.” “Will you share more of him? I haven’t really given it much thought yet. It’s not like I am some giant internet personality or something and he’s still very small and just so adorable that I might not always have the self-restraint to not post pictures of him literally everywhere. My whole camera roll is just pictures of him and my girlfriend,” Jeno giggled, “And it’s not like I could do anything if he ever decided he wants to visit me in the streaming room when he’s a little older or something. I don’t want him to think this room is off-limits or that he can’t come to me while I’m in here, you know?” For a little while, Jeno took in the flood of comments on the matter. “Aaah, I know people have very strong opinions about that kind of stuff but we’ll figure it out as we go. I’m also pretty bad at keeping things to myself. You already spoiled his name. Oh, well, yeah. In the post on Instagram, I did put his name in hangeul in the caption. So if you can read that, then yeah, you know his name.” Shrugging, Jeno took another sip from his Redbull can. You and he had debated whether or not to tell his audience Haneul’s name but in the end, Jeno had argued that he’d let it slip sooner or later anyway, so there was no use in hiding it in the first place. “Aaah, the auto-translation just translates it to sky?” He asked when he saw the comment fly by, his head tilting slightly to the right on instinct. “Well, that makes sense, that would be the literal translation of the characters. Pretty, isn’t it? Little sky puppy.” “Fitting if he has your ears. That’s true,” Jeno laughed, “His ears are so big right now. Like disproportionally big. His tail has the right length for his small body but the ears are just so big on him, it’s adorable. I could honestly just go on and on and on about how cute and adorable he is. God. I could keep going and show you about 200 pics of his ears”

“What game are we playing? Yes, let’s actually get started since most of you probably couldn’t care less about my pup and are here to see me play some games. Which is also what I am here for. So. We are playing something chill tonight. I know the room is pretty soundproof but I don’t wanna risk scaring the pup, so we will just hop into a game that I wanted to play for literally forever and I never picked it up because there are so many horror games on my list as well and I know you love seeing me scared. But as always, I’ll leave for a quick pee break and will be right back.” Smiling, Jeno turned up the chill background music for his viewers before he took off his headphones. From the corner of his eye, he could make out his chat erupting in messages of “chairno” with a bunch of hearts already as well as the little jamming dog emote Renjun had drawn and animated for him.

Still smiling, he slipped out of his streaming room to quickly go to the bathroom. But he didn’t go back without a detour to the living room where you had his stream up on the big TV, holding Haneul to your chest. “Hey baby,” Jeno whispered, carefully sitting down next to you to not jostle you and in turn Haneul even if he simply wanted to flop down on the cushions to cuddle up next to you and his baby boy. “He’s awake,” you smiled, gently caressing your son’s squishy cheek. “Hello my baby boy,” Jeno cooed, giving in to the urge that told him he had to gently nuzzle his head against Haneul’s tummy. He was too tiny to properly scent him but the gesture still gave Jeno so much comfort and it seemed to make Haneul happy as well, his mouth open wide in resemblance of a smile and his eyes slightly curved in what you swore would become his dad’s signature eye smile in no time. They were still a very stark blue but Jeno was sure they would darken up eventually. “Will you be a good baby while daddy has to work?” He asked, gently running a finger along the shell of one of the big puppy ears that sat atop of Haneul’s head that he’d need to grow into which twitched adorably at the touch. “He’ll be the best boy,” you smiled, “We’re gonna watch daddy’s stream until its bedtime, right Haneul?” Of course, it was way too early for your son to vocalize anything properly, so he simply kicked his little sock-clad feet at the sound of your voice. “He’s so excited,” Jeno giggled, holding his palm out for Haneul to kick against. “Because he just got a fresh diaper,” you laughed, “And his naptime with daddy was extra good.” “Oh was it?” “He told me himself,” you smiled, giggling into the kiss Jeno pressed against your lips.

“I gotta get back to work,” he sighed, his ears flattening against his head. “Off you go. Enjoy your game,” you shooed him, quickly pecking his lips again. “I’ll miss you,” he sighed. “You’re so dramatic,” you affectionately rolled your eyes. “Says the one who cried because she had to let her son out of her eyesight for a five-minute shower,” Jeno teased tight back, stretching out his tongue. “Go work, you idiot.” “I love you both too. Call me if you need anything.” “We’ll be fine, promise.” “Goodbye, baby boy,” Jeno smiled, pressing a featherlight kiss to Haneul’s forehead, “Be good for mommy while daddy isn’t here.”

#jeno #lee jeno #nct #nct dream #neowritingsnet #jeno fluff #jeno imagines #jeno scenarios #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct dream fluff #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios

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pvarker · 2 years

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PVARKER'S WIP LIST

this is literally just an ongoing list of everything i'm working on at the moment including non-peter parker fics, just so you know what other wips i work on (most available under ao3 colorfuldreams) . this is just to keep you in the loop, especially since i update once/twice a month bc i'm a slow writer lol!

✑ sleeping with the moon and stars (let me into your heart)

➝ summary: [requested] peter and you don't get along, but when you go on a double date, peter starts acting odd. ➝ type: one-shot, fluff

✑ one way or another [chapter four]

➝ summary: harry's campfire gathering turns into something more, as peter and reader face unexpected barriers that reveals something integral to the mystery. ➝ type: series chapter, fluff, angst

✑ love & let go.

➝ summary: distance makes the heart grow fonder, they said. they lied. ➝ type: one-shot, angst

✑ memory rewrite

➝ summary: when peter parker, your best friend, bangs his head against the hardwood floor of the gym and gets concussed, he seems to wake up to hate you. on an unrelated note, your partner in rivalry, spiderman, seems to follow you around like puppy despite him being your enemy at best. ➝ type: one-shot, fluff, crack

#user: pvarker #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x yn #spiderman

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0risha · 3 years

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“LEMON GLOW."

✰ PAIRING ⤷ megumi x gn!reader

✰ SUMMARY ⤷ megumi's mind has finally become clearer.

✰ TAGS ⤷ fluff, junior high megumi, barely edited,

✰ A/N ⤷ “yesth, I should be working on requests right now but this came to me while listening to lemon glow by beach house... so forgive me?” don't ask why I added a header..... lmfaooo. Lowkey thinking of doing a part 2 to this in the current timeline... idk.

The color of Megumi's mind.

It’s murky, at first. Where unclarity suffocates his every crevice because he’s still trying to find his place in the world.

Although it clears up for a second whenever he comes in contact with his sister, Tsumiki, it returns as soon as the words of animosity cross between the two.

Even when he’s witnessing the fear of delinquents who call themselves tough because the only thing they can pry on are the weak, he still feels as though he needs something.

Fortunately, his plea is answered in due time.

Megumi figures that it's not God. Through the clamor of his life, he’d never believed in one. But every time he looks back on this gift –no matter how unexpected it was– he couldn’t help but mutter a prayer of thanks to who knows what.

You’re a new face. At first, muddled like the others. Face distorted with cloudy substance where your features should be, whirling past whenever you two come close.

When you two do finally come in contact, it’s at his home. The one he shares with Tsumiki and Satoru. But Satoru's rarely there.

He’s sick. A high fever of 106. His nose is stuffed to the point where he fears he won’t be able to breathe when the next cycle of inhale and exhale comes.

He hasn’t been able to get up from his futon ever since his alarm rang. His sister and Satoru long gone before then. He didn’t want to call, figuring that he could work through this himself.

When Megumi hears a voice, soft and timid, he shakes his head. Eyes blinking as he wonders if he’s finally lost it. But it comes again, closer this time.

“Fushiguro san?” A head peeks through his room door.

It's you, the new student. He recalls that you're quiet and rarely talk. Even then, somehow associating yourself in the popular crowd. Though, a part of him thinks it wasn't your doing.

When you hand him your name he doesn't recognize it. A thought in where he needs to pay more attention flits through his mind.

"You're here because...."

His voice comes out wired and scratchy, he's sure if it wasn't for his battered throat, it would've come out as harsh.

Your response is delayed. Almost as if you need twice as much the average time to process his words. "Oh, since I'm in your homeroom, I was sent to deliver your classwork and homework." You take out a stack of papers from your backpack and place it by the door.

He closes his eyes, expecting to hear retreating footsteps.

"Should I make you something?" you ask. For a second, Megumi has the urge to deny, he hates relying on other people, especially the too-good ones.

But as he surveys your almost pleading posture he accepts. "Okay."

With his affirmation, the air shifts. A smile takes its place on your face as you clamber up to him. "Do you want tea or sou—"

"Anything, just don't make a mess." He grunts, with half of your body over his –even with his clogged nose– he catches a faint scent of vanilla. He turns his head away from you to hide the flush in his cheeks, he's never actually been this close to someone as pretty as you before. Less alone cared for.

"Okay," you chirp. Not the slightest bit encompassed by his offish behavior.

When you leave, he curses himself for being so rude to you. But Megumi can't help it, his cold demeanor had been injected into his body since birth.

An hour passes by.. ten minutes, maybe? And Megumi starts to forget that you're even in his home; his fever finally hitting its pinnacle.

In his dream-like state, he doesn't hear you enter his room.

But, when you say his name meekly and place a cool palm on his forehead, he finally shifts.

"I made miso soup, it probably doesn't taste the best but I—"

"Thank you." He breathes out, turning towards your sitting figure to grab the bowl. He grunts in frustration as his body strains.

"I can feed you if that's alright?" Groggily, he blinks. His pride had been wounded too many times today but when he sees your expression, he again complies.

When you perk up, he has to turn his head away from your too-bright smile.

"Can you at least sit up?" you whisper, already reaching towards his head to hoist him up.

"Yeah," Megumi grunts, using all of his strength to finally rest his back on the wall.

"That's good." You state, blowing on a spoonful of soup before you reach to cup his jaw.

Megumi doesn't have the heart to move away, a part of him thinks that seeing a hurt expression on your face would be far worse than his now fever.

Slowly but surely, he widens his mouth to welcome the soup.

He keeps his eyes from making contact with yours as he tastes the warm liquid on his buds. Even though his sensory is barely there, it didn't taste good. At all.

"Is it good?" you inquiry. Your eyes sparkle with anticipation as you gaze at him.

"Yeah, it is." Your smile grows much wider than it was before at his positive commentary.

"Really?" You place another spoonful in his mouth, much eagerly than the last as you ramble about the ingredients you used. His brain can't perfectly piece your words together but your voice soothes him, nonetheless.

"What time is it?" Megumi asks when the soup is finally close to done.

If Tsumiki or Gojo were to come, he thinks, this moment of his would-be interrupted. As much as he hated to admit it, he didn't want it to.

"By now, school's almost over." You shift, taking a cup of tea and placing it to his lips. Megumi wants to ask why you decided to skip school and take care of a stranger instead, but he decides against it.

"Do you want me to leave?" Your eyes shift to his. When he shakes his head, you breathe out a sigh.

Megumi hopes it's one of relief.

Hesitantly, his eyes fall on yours."Can you uh.. stay untill I fall asleep?" Your brows raise in surprise at his pleading tone.

"Of course." You decide, placing the tea cup on his room table.

Slowly, you shuffle closer to him and lean a little on his shoulder.

"What if you get sick?"

"You'll have to take care of me, just like I did." Megumi blinks as he processes your words. A warm, serene feel surrounds every stack of his vertebrae. It's an unfamiliar feeling, one that makes his heartbeat grow unsteady, but he welcomes it.

"Okay."

When Megumi wakes up, it's nighttime. A sliver of the moon from his window acts as a source of light for his room. He attempts to shift in his futon, only to be met with a warm body, yours.

Megumi stills for a second as he observes your face. Throughout his whole day with you, he never got the chance to get a good look at it.

You're pretty just like he first thought. He thinks it's almost adorable how your nose twitches every time he moves around.

He's never been this interested in something or someone, this much. Maybe it's because of the involuntary care you gave him. The nice, white gleaming smiles too.

He's never experienced or accepted care from somebody else.

A ghost of a smile threatens to touch his lips as he realizes that his nose, chest and mind are no longer heavy but instead, clear.

Your soup must've worked.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #megumi x gender neutral reader #megumi x reader #megumi x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader #jjkmag

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lifeofkaze · 2 years

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The Phoenix Resistance- Book 2, Chapter 26

From the Rubble

A/N: This chapter was written as part of the @phoenixresistance project. Kaari Arcano, Devon Marlowe, Lou Yaxley, Mirai Wilson and Eleanor Amaranthine (everyone except Kaari only in mention) belong to @kathrynalicemc. Henry McClarnon (in mention) belongs to @thatravenpuffwitch. A thousand thanks and hugs to @samshogwarts for helping me with the amazing header picture. Love youuuu 💛

Ministry of Magic, London - 2nd May 1998, 3.05 am

After Devon had explained her plan to them, the members of the Phoenix Resistance split into three groups to cover more terrain. Devon, Henry and Lou - a Death Eater spy Mina hadn’t known before - went to search the Auror offices while Mina and Kaari were assigned the offices of the Muggle-Born Registration Commission. Mirai and Eleanor were staying in the atrium to keep watch.

Like with the rest of the Ministry, the hallways and most of the offices were deserted. Mina and Kaari were searching quickly and efficiently, but due to the sheer number of documents the Death Eaters had compiled it took them several hours to progress.

The few witches and wizards they did encounter they quickly took care of; not sparing the magically muffled and bound men and women another glance, Mina had no qualms in stepping over them and breaking open their filing cabinets. Kaari watched her get to work in stunned silence. Noticing his eyes on her back, Mina glanced up from the documents she was rifling through.

“What?”

A smug grin broke on Kaari’s face as he shook his head and reclined in the armchair he was lounging in. “Nothing.”

Mina turned and stemmed her hands into her hips. “What is it?”

“If someone had told you a month ago that you’d be breaking into the Ministry of Magic and taking out one Death Eater after the other to cold-bloodedly steal their secrets you'd have gotten hysterical. Now look at you. Who would have thought you’d be so ruthless?”

Instead of answering him, Mina rolled her eyes and continued looking through the cabinet. Kaari joined her a moment later.

“I mean it,” he continued in a conversational tone while using the tip of his dagger to pry another drawer open. “If I’m completely honest, I didn’t think you’d have it in you to fight. That was the only reason I promised Ava to look after you, because I didn’t think you’d make it.” Another sideways glance, another smirk. “But if you continue like this, you’ll be looking out for me before long.”

“Am I not already?” Mina muttered, but a moment later, she turned serious. “Ava was right, both of you were. It was time to wake up.”

Kaari looked at her curiously. “If you had the chance to go back and forget about everything… would you?”

“What kind of question is this?”

Kaari shrugged. “A good one.”

Mina thought about it for a moment. There were potions and spells to erase memories. A few weeks ago, she wouldn’t have needed to think twice to answer Kaari’s question. And she didn’t need to think twice about her answer now. She shook her head.

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“Good,” Kaari laughed and nudged her in the side with his elbow. He used a little too much force and Mina almost staggered away from the cabinet. “I like you much better as a ruthless rebel than as a picky potions girl. See, even Nym agrees.”

Like so often, the small dragon had wiggled free of Kaari’s pocket and was flapping around the office. He made to land on Mina’s head, but she ducked out of his way, making him collide with Kaari’s face instead.

“That feeling is not mutual,” she said flatly, but had to suppress a grin at the muffled sounds Kaari was making.

“Still scared?” Kaari asked, plucking Nym off his face and holding the miniature dragon out to her. Mina grimaced and took a step back.

“No, I just don’t want dragon slobber all over my face.”

“And for a minute I thought you’d removed the broomstick from your butt,” Kaari laughed and ducked as Mina threw a file after him.

They were still bickering when they left the office again and continued on their way. Eventually, both of them fell silent. Something seemed to have changed; with every step along the increasingly dark hallway, Mina felt the tension inside her growing. Where before she had been able to see the end of the corridor opening into a wider space, now all she could see in the flickering lights was darkness. It had grown colder as well, and Mina shivered inadvertently.

“Something’s wrong,” she muttered, her breath showing as a cloud in front of her face. “Maybe we should turn back.”

“So much for not being scared,” Kaari replied but he was lacking his usual carefree tone. “But maybe we should. This doesn’t feel right.”

Now feeling cold to the bone, they stopped and turned around to walk back the way they had come. Mina had never in her life been so cold before, but what she saw at the end of the hallway was making her blood freeze.

Back at the beginning of the corridor, where no light was reaching anymore, the shadows seemed to be moving. A churning sea of dark shapes was advancing on them and every second the air was growing colder, and the despair inside Mina’s heart bigger. Next to Mina, Kaari cursed underneath his breath.

“Dementors,” he snarled and now Mina could see them too - hooded figures emerging from the dark, the hems of their tattered robes barely touching the ground. They were gliding in their direction, along with a thin layer of ice spreading on the walls and floor. The air was so cold that it hurt as Mina inhaled sharply.

Kaari drew his wand and pointed it in the direction of the Dementors. “Expecto Patronum!”

From his wand burst a brilliant silver light. It formed into the small, lithe shape of a polecat and Mina instantly felt a little of the cold weight that was compressing her heart lighten. The polecat sped off into the direction of the Dementors, and the warm feeling subsided, but the Dementors paused as the silver animal crouched in front of them, its glowing tail raised in warning.

Kaari and Mina turned and ran, away from the Dementors and into the darkness up ahead. As the distance between themselves and Kaari’s polecat Patronus increased, its silver light grew weaker and, one after the other, the Dementors began to slip past it.

Kaari cursed and cast a second Patronus spell over his shoulder. The polecat reappeared and bounded towards the Dementors. Mina could already hear their rattling breaths, the only sound aside from their own ragged breathing and slapping footsteps on the floor.

Mina wished she could do something to help Kaari fight off the Dementors, but she wasn’t able to produce a corporeal Patronus. It would take more than a cloud of mist to keep them contained. An idea struck her; if she couldn’t contain them magically, maybe she could do so physically.

Mina drew her wand and, mid-running, pointed it over her shoulder and above. A jet of light burst from it and hit the ceiling, lighting up the heaving sea of billowing robes and skeletal hands rushing towards them. Losing no time, Mina shot a few more spells towards different parts of the walls. For a moment, she was afraid that it hadn’t worked; then, a deep rumble went through the corridor, making the ground beneath their feet tremble.

“Kaari, run!” Mina screamed and sped up.

The first parts of the ceiling were caving in, quickly followed by big chunks of the walls tumbling to the floor. The falling rubble seemed to follow them as they sprinted towards the open space at the end of the hallway. Mina couldn’t see it through the darkness but she hoped it wasn’t too far away anymore; the walls were coming down quicker than she had anticipated and while they would keep the Dementors at bay, that wouldn’t help them much if they got buried beneath the falling stones.

Mina was quickly running out of breath and her sides were stinging painfully. Kaari had overtaken her and her own spell was threatening to do the same - instead of behind her, the debris was now raining down around her. Mina was dodging the rubble as best as she could but with only their wands to light the way, she didn’t see the big chunk of ceiling on the floor.

She stumbled, the light of her wand dancing over the broken walls in erratic motions, but before she hit the ground, she felt Kaari’s hand closing around her arm. He pulled her to the side and only a second later, a big part of a decorative pillar hit the ground in the exact spot Mina had been in a moment before.

Kaari didn’t let go of her, half pushing, half dragging her along with him. When Mina thought she couldn’t possibly take another step and the glowing tips of their wands began to stretch and warp in front of her eyes, the two of them stumbled through the archway and into the open space beyond. The rumbling of the collapsing corridor stopped and Mina and Kaari sank to the ground, covered in dust and gasping for breath.

“So much… for… looking out for… yourself,” Kaari panted, gulping down air between words. “You’re still… the damsel in… distress.”

“Shut… up,” Mina said weakly, still as out of breath as Kaari was. “Just make… some light.”

Taking another moment to recover, Kaari conjured a big ball of light to illuminate the room. Coming to her feet, Mina cast a look around. The room was round and seemed to be some sort of atrium. Several archways like the one they had stumbled through were branching off from it. All of them were lying in darkness.

Her eyes wandered towards the corridor they had come through. It had completely collapsed and filled the archway with broken pieces of rubble. The wall above the archway had cracked as well, the fissures spreading up and further into the room. Dipping her head back, Mina followed them with her eyes. They continued into the centre of the ceiling, where a big, golden M was inlaid into the stone. It was split right in the middle and Mina quickly moved out from underneath it.

Kaari had gone to look at what seemed to be a floorplan stuck to the wall. Wiggling out of his coat pocket, Nym flew after Mina as she went to take a look around the room herself. The ball of light Kaari had conjured made Nym’s shadow appear gigantic but after escaping an army of Dementors, Mina wasn’t too fazed by the thought of it.

“I wouldn’t have crumbled on your floor had I known you could do that,” Kaari called over to Mina after glancing at the blocked archway.

Despite herself, the corners of her mouth twitched. “Consider yourself warned.” She cast a wary look at the other passages. “Where are we going now?”

Kaari shrugged. “Let’s just pick one.”

Mina was about to tell him why she thought that might have been the worst idea he’d ever had, when somewhere in the distance a sound like an explosion could be heard. She turned to Kaari, who was suddenly looking worried.

Before either of them had the chance to say anything, however, the ground beneath Mina’s feet began to shake. She stumbled and came crashing to the ground, a sharp pain shooting through her knees as they made contact with the floor. She held her breath as another sound could be heard, lighter, sharper, and distinctly nearer.

Her eyes flew to the golden M, which was now right above her head. To her horror she saw the cracks were widening. Fine dust and small pieces of stone were coming loose and raining down on her head. The explosion had made the already fragile static of the room give way and it had begun to collapse.

“Mina! Nym! Come here!” Kaari, who had taken shelter beneath the nearest archway, called out. Mina needn’t be told twice; scrambling to her feet, she hurried in Kaari’s direction.

She had almost made it when a big chunk of the ceiling came crashing down in the middle of the room. It almost hit Nym, who was doing his best to follow Mina as quickly as he could. Kaari put two fingers to his mouth and whistled sharply, spurring the tiny dragon on, but Nym still had more than half of the room to cross. As he reached the centre of the atrium, the golden M split apart and the pieces of stone and inlaid gold began to fall.

Kaari cried out and made to run back into the collapsing room but Mina was quicker. She dashed forward and sprinted across the atrium. She extended her hand towards Nym, who came rushing towards her with a frightened, high-pitched sound, and then, with another rumble, the world went black.

When the dust had settled, Kaari emerged from the archway. He coughed as his eyes frantically swept the ruins, looking for any sign of Mina or Nym. His eyes fell on the giant heap of rubble in the centre of the room and he hastened over to it as quickly as he could.

“Mina? Nym?”

His voice was hoarse from coughing and the dust was making his eyes water. He circled the debris once, twice, but saw no sign of either of his friends. Fighting down the panic rising in his chest, Kaari frantically started digging, flinging pieces of stone aside until his hands were bleeding, his wand lying forgotten on the shattered floor.

After moving a particularly big stone with some considerable effort, he finally caught a glimpse of Mina’s pale blonde hair, now covered in dust and blood. Quickly moving the rest of the rubble aside, he knelt down beside her. Her body was curled to a ball and her eyes closed; the light was too dim to see if she was still breathing.

With a bitter taste in his mouth, Kaari bent down until his face was close to Mina’s; he shuddered with relief as he felt her breath against his cheek. It was weak but it was there. He laid his hand against the side of her face and patted it several times.

“Come on, princess,” he muttered, “it’s time to wake up.”

After putting maybe a little too much force behind it, a familiar frown appeared on Mina’s face and her eyes fluttered open.

“Hit me in the face one more time and I promise you’ll regret it.”

Her voice was shaky and her face pale beneath the grime and blood oozing from a wound on her temple, but Kaari had never been so glad to see her glaring at him.

“You did choose an awful place to have a nap,” he joked to mask the constricted feeling in his throat and helped Mina into a sitting position. He cast a look around for any sign of Nym, but when he saw nothing, Kaari’s heart sank. Mina had been right next to him when the ceiling had come down. He had to be here somewhere. He had to be.

Kaari turned back to the rubble and started digging again. With every stone he turned and every crack he shone the light of his wand into his despair grew, but there was still no sign of Nym to be seen.

“Kaari,” Mina said quietly but Kaari wasn’t listening. He was still searching, fighting the panic. He would find Nym any moment, unscathed and unhurt, lolling his tongue and making funny little noises.

“Kaari,” Mina said again, more urgent this time.

When he didn’t turn around, she raised her voice. “Kaari!”

A coughing fit immediately followed suit, but at least, Kaari had noticed her now. He turned to her, his face ashen.

“He’s not here,” he said with a choked voice, and Mina thought there might be tears shining in his eyes. “Why is he not here?”

“Kaari, it’s alright…”

“No, it’s not! I need to find him!”

“Nym is fine, trust me. See?”

With that, Mina carefully opened her hands, which up to this point she had kept cradled against her chest. There, sitting in the palm of her hands, looking battered and scared but otherwise unharmed, was Nym.

With a sound close to a sob Kaari rushed in and gently took the tiny dragon from Mina’s hands, cradling him against his own chest now and mumbling something in Norwegian that was so soft that Mina couldn’t understand it. But she didn’t need to; the look on Kaari’s face as he drew her into a crushing embrace was saying more than words in any language ever could.

“Thank you,” he muttered against her hair, his voice shaking with gratitude. “You saved Nym’s life. How can I ever thank you ?”

“How about not choking me?” Mina managed to rasp out. Kaari’s hold on her was tight and made her ribs hurt so badly that she thought he would break them if he didn’t let go.

“Yeah, sure. Sorry,” Kaari muttered and quickly let go of her. He looked a little flustered as he gently let Nym slide into his pocket, where, for once, the tiny dragon curled up and stayed firmly put.

“Don’t worry,” Mina replied and grimaced as she put her hand to her temple and it came away red with her own blood, “I’d say we’re even now.”

“We are,” Kaari confirmed. Coming back to his senses, he took a closer look at Mina’s head wound, bending her head to the side to see it better. The movement was making her dizzy but the feeling quickly subsided when Kaari put the sleeve of his dusty coat over his hand and brought it to her head again. Even though she had to concentrate, Mina hurried to take a step back.

“What in Godric’s name are you doing?”

“Cleaning the wound. You look like the Bloody Baron’s little sister.”

“You’re not cleaning anything - let alone my face - and especially not with that sleeve of yours.”

“What’s wrong with my sleeve?”

“It’s covered in dirt!”

“So?”

“Do you want to kill me?”

“You’re doing a great job on that front on your own, princess.”

Mina snorted. “There’s running into a collapsing room and there’s begging for a sepsis. Go away with that,” she added threateningly when Kaari tried to wipe her blood away a second time. He rolled his eyes.

“And there was me thinking you had changed.”

“As if you’d want it any other way.”

A grin had appeared on both of their faces as they looked at each other. After another moment, Kaari audibly cleared his throat.

“Right, enough of the sentimentalities. Let’s find a way out of here and get back to the others. They need to know about the Dementors.”

He set off in the direction of a random archway, but stopped when he realised Mina was walking into a different direction. “Where are you going?”

Mina pointed at an askew hanging sign indicating there was a bathroom down the hallway she was aiming for. “Getting myself cleaned up. I’m not overthrowing a government looking like I crawled out of a Red Cap’s hole.”

Staring after her in disbelief, all Kaari could do was shake his head.

“Can you believe her?” he muttered to Nym, who had poked his head out of Kaari’s pocket again. “She needs to sort out her priorities.”

Staring after her in disbelief, all Kaari could do was shake his head.

“Can you believe her?” he muttered to Nym, who had poked his head out of Kaari’s pocket again. “She needs to sort out her priorities.”

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #mina pendleton #kaari arcano #tpr #the final chapters omg

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shesthespinstersimmer · 2 years

Text

Ok, I’ll play - thanks for the tag @wannabecatwriter 🖤

Check In Tag

Why did you choose your URL?

Not too many people I knew played the Sims in my “social Circle“, and the ones that do are a lot younger than me. So, when I started on Tumblr, Spinstersimmer amused me. But when I had to create a new page, I never deleted the old one. So “shesthespinstersimmer” seemed like a good choice.

How long have you been on Tumblr?

Tumblr since 2015, Simblr since 2020

Do you have a queue tag?

Yes. Diabolically.

Why did you start your blog in the first place?

My stories have been banging around in my head for years. It was seriously lonely having no one to tell them to. and when they started to multiply, I started the blog.

Why did you choose your icon/pfp?

It was the best picture I had at the time; then I heard that most simmers don’t use their own face. I left it there in rebellion.

Why did you choose your header?

It was the first time I stepped out of my comfort zone and participated in a challenge. I like to keep it up there to remind me of a time I was brave.

What's your post with the most notes?

Don’t quote me on this, but I think it’s the battlefield scene from The Deep Down

How many mutuals do you have?

I don’t have an exact number, I try to appreciate whoever takes the time to interact

How many followers do you have?

Not many (active ones), I suspect. But quality over quantity.

How many people do you follow?

679 - not all sims related

Have you ever made a shitpost?

Nope. And I rue the day - I don’t like waking up the monster

How often do you use tumblr every day?

Between once or twice a day

Did you have a fight/argument with another blog once?

No. If it ever happens, I’ll try to fix it. If I can’t fix it, I’ll see myself out

How do you feel about 'you need to reblog this' posts?

I prefer it wasn’t phrased that way; it makes me want to rebel. But if I think it’s worthwhile, I will

Do you like tag games?

Yes I like learning about other creators. I feel bad when I don’t have time though

Do you like ask memes?

*See previous answer*

Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

They’re all rockstars to me 🖤🤘🏾

Do you have a crush on a mutual?

A lady never tells

My my, this was a long one - if you’d like to play along, consider yourself invited; I love learning about you all!

#non sims #check in tag

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thetrashywritingwitch · 3 years

Text

"Be Still, Just for Me" Bakugo x Fem!Reader, Ch. 38

First Chapter Previous Chapter

Summary: Bakugo Katsuki, a Pro Hero in Japan, is used to the routine: wake up, kick villain ass, rinse and repeat. He’s living his dream, soaking in all he’s ever wanted and worked for.

During the brief moment he lets his guard down, everything changes.

Tossed into a world without quirks with nothing but the clothes on his back, he’s forced to accept the help of someone who knows exactly who he is: a manga character who should definitely not exist.

Chapter length: 6.3k

Warnings: T+ (cursing, discussion of trauma/PTSD)

Reminder that the A03, Wattpad, and Quotev links will be in a reblog so this post shows up in search results! They’re also in my profile header! <3

Co-written and plot mapped by @rose-sparks13

So sorry for the long wait for this chapter and the fact that it's not super long. Thanks so much for your patience and understanding <3

Chapter Title: Hope is the Thing with Petals

_______________________

“So… tell me a bit more about these nightmares you mentioned earlier. How long have they been going on?”

Trying to get comfortable on an unfamiliar couch in an unfamiliar office while being analyzed by an unfamiliar person seemed incredibly counterproductive to therapy. Without a clock in the room, it was impossible to tell just how long you’d been there, but it couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes.

Still, you were here and knew this was the best choice moving forward. There was no shame in therapy, of course not… but that didn’t make it any easier to talk about everything weighing on you for the past three weeks. You would’ve come sooner, honestly, but you had to wait for your insurance cards from your new job to be able to afford regular visits. So, you grabbed the plush blanket folded on the back of the couch, spread it over your legs while your fingers idly fiddled with the soft threads, took a deep breath, and spoke.

“Uh, sure,” you began. “I guess it was about two and a half weeks ago. I’ve been having a lot of trouble sleeping. Tossing and turning, can’t get comfortable, and the nightmares… I usually wake up startled, sometimes sweating or upset, disoriented. All I want to do is get a good night’s sleep…” Your friend had been generous enough to let you stay the night with her almost every night until you started your new job, but of course that arrangement couldn’t last and would never be a substitute for him.

The therapist hummed and nodded as she jotted something down in her notebook. The surveillance that came with being scrutinized only made your fidgeting worse. “Hm… and do you remember your dreams? Or nightmares, rather? Are they abstract, or can you tell what’s going on?”

It felt like swallowing coarse rocks as you spoke. “They usually start off abstract, I guess. Sometimes I’m running and sometimes I’m floating, but it’s almost always pitch-black darkness. A few times, I’ve been outside with trees and grass… but I think that’s only happened once or twice,” you explained while notably avoiding how hard you were gripping the blanket.

“Are you alone, or are there other people or things around? Animals, maybe? Any noises?”

You knew he’d come up sooner rather than later. The next part was harder to talk about, but not the most difficult. “I’m alone at the start. About half the time I can hear myself, and the other half I can’t, like I’m mute. I’m calling out for help to see if anyone else is around… and… sometimes someone answers, and sometimes they don’t.”

“Who answers?”

Even three weeks later, it hurt to think about Katsuki; a thorn in your heart that throbbed during the toughest, saddest moments. “My boyfriend. Uh, ex-boyfriend I guess.” Describing him as your ex when the only official breakup terms were that he no longer existed in your world would be impossible to explain, but you’d rehearsed things a bit for when the therapist inevitably asked more about him. This would be your new constant, a string of half-truths shouldering through your conversations from now on because no one would understand or believe such an absurd explanation of how Katsuki came to be.

For the next half hour, you explained not only the recurring theme of Katsuki and the bear, but gave a mild summary of the cabin events. Judging by the wide eyes of your therapist, it seemed like being chased and nearly mauled by an actual bear wasn’t exactly a common thing.

“Gosh, that’s an awful thing to have happened. I’m so sorry you went through that,” she said, voice laced with sincerity before pausing to let you calm down a bit from recalling the real life imagery. “If you want to stop, we can stop.” Luckily, she didn’t ask you to elaborate on how exactly Katsuki scared off the bear. Describing yourself in the fetal position with your eyes screwed shut while disoriented and terrified provided the perfect excuse for vague-but-honest descriptors.

“No,” you insisted before easing back into the couch while gnawing on your bottom now-sore bottom lip. “I… I can keep going. I knew it would be hard, especially the first day. But um… yeah. Yeah I’m fine.”

With a sigh, she nodded. “Alright, if you’re sure. But know that we can stop anytime and come back to it another day.” She waited until you nodded as well. “Now… you said your nightmares started a few weeks ago, but the bear incident was over a month ago?”

“Yeah. It… OK, the nightmares actually started that night. I think I was in shock? Or something? It was like I couldn’t focus on what was happening or where I was… I’d close my eyes and realize I’m in the bathroom or the kitchen and not remember how I got there. Katsuki was pretty concerned, but he… helped me a lot.”

“Yes, those do sound like potential symptoms. After that kind of ordeal, the body and mind often lags behind as it processes trauma.”

“That uh, sounds about right,” you answered awkwardly. “But, anyway… I think everything wore me out and I fell asleep in the living room and woke up in the bedroom. I only remember bits of the first nightmare, but I woke up screaming not knowing where I was. It was so real…” Only when you glanced down did you realize your hands were shaking and you tried to force them to stop. Avoiding talking about this with Katsuki just meant delaying the inevitable. The therapist remained silent and patient to let you continue. “And… he came up to check on me. And I said I didn’t want to be alone, so he stayed with me. I didn’t have nightmares after that so long as he was nearby.”

She hummed again and made another note. “I see. So, Katsuki acted as a sort of coping mechanism, a safe comfort for you. And with him gone, I presume, they’ve come back. Am I close?”

Sighing through your nose, you nodded. “Sounds about right, yeah.”

“Can you tell me a bit more about him? It seems like the breakup was recent. So what happened?”

You opened your mouth before closing it again like a gaping fish. It had been three weeks, so it should’ve been easier to talk about him, but everything still hurt and pulled and ached like a bruise that refused to heal, still purple and ghastly yellow around the edges. Although you’d only known him for a month, the close connection you made far-outshined the short time span. Even now, you felt your throat grow tight and your eyes water as you thought about that last morning in his arms.

“I… ah, sorry. Um… can we, uh, talk about him another day? Please?”

You avoided her stare, unsure if it was judgmental or concerned and busied yourself with grabbing a tissue out of the nearby box. “Of course, we’ll have plenty of time.” Glad that she dropped the subject, you eased back into the comfortable couch. “Speaking of, I think that’s about it for today. The hour is up. But I want you to try some exercises…”

Listening as carefully as you could while trying to put Katsuki out of your mind, you unwound your hands from the blanket and folded it carefully over the back of the couch before picking up your purse. “Thank you. That was hard, but I figured it would be.”

“The first few sessions are always an overload of information dumping so that we can lay out the issues that you’d like to work on. Some days will be easier, but some will be difficult,” she explained while typing on her laptop. “You want to come back the same time next week? And continue on a weekly basis for now?”

You checked the time on your phone to see that you needed to rush down the stairs to make sure you could get to work on time. Having therapy sessions before work wasn’t ideal, but they rarely took clients on the weekends and you valued your lunchtime. “Yeah, yeah that works. Thanks again,” you said as you grabbed your empty coffee cup. At least the free coffee she provided was a plus for these early mornings.

“Of course… oh, don’t forget your parking validation.” You watched her dig into a drawer and pull out a card to hand to you. “No one likes paying for parking.”

“Very true. Thanks.” With the card in your hand, you turned and exited out of the room. As soon as you were in the elevator, you let your body slump against the cold, metal walls and wished that you were back in your bed, nightmares notwithstanding. “God, I hated that… and I have to do it again next week.” Even so, you had to admit that talking about it all was relieving in a way that venting to your friend wasn’t. Professionals were professionals for a reason, you guessed.

Once you were downstairs, you tossed the empty cup into a trash can and headed through the door to the parking lot. Driving to work one day a week wasn’t so bad if therapy could actually help you move past some of these issues. Still, once you sat in your car and locked the door, you took a deep, shuddering breath and let your head rest on the steering wheel for nearly a minute before starting the engine and driving out onto the main road.

The week that Katsuki left was arguably one of the worst weeks you’d had since… well, probably since your last ex boyfriend fiasco. But while the hurt and pain for a different outcome were similar, there was also a sharp pang of longing that just didn’t compare, a wish unfulfilled and unanswered as you curled in on yourself under your cold bed sheets.

Please, you pleaded in the silent darkness. Please, come back. I miss you…

Driving to your new job passed by in a haze, staring at a stop light one moment and pulling into the parking deck under the building the next as you tried to shake yourself from the hard conversations in therapy. There was no shame in it, no embarrassment about talking to someone, but you could already tell the sessions would be mentally and emotionally exhausting. Unfortunately, work couldn’t wait around all day for you to get your shit together, so once you pulled into a parking spot and checked yourself in the mirror to make sure you didn’t look like too much of a mess, you took one last look at the empty passenger seat with a frown and headed towards the elevator into the main building above.

The new job and training provided the perfect distraction for avoiding thinking about your problems. So long as you were on the clock, you immersed yourself in work with every ounce of concentration you had. While your previous experience helped you along with the basics, their software procedures, organization, servers, and pipeline were all different from your last job. After two weeks of training and getting up to speed, however, you finally felt slightly less anxious and the “oh no, I’m gonna get fired any day now” stress that came with tiny mistakes and corrections began to abate. And it was all thanks to Katsuki. If it wasn’t for him, would you have built up the courage to finally work towards something better?

As you walked down the hallway on your floor, you hid a yawn behind your hand as you nodded and waved towards your new team members. Most of them were nice enough, welcoming you with general pleasantries and introductions. It was always weird when someone new came onto a team that already had a working dynamic, but you hoped that with time you’d be able to feel comfortable in your new role.

“Morning,” your lead said as she set down her customary mug of tea. The communal kitchen had free coffee, soda and tea, and not the cheap stuff, either. “Remember that we have a team meeting at 10. Did you see the email sent out yesterday?”

“The one outlining the software changes? Yep, read through it.” Hardly anyone turned their work computers off, so everything from the day before pulled up quickly once you typed in your password. Maybe, just maybe, it was something Katsuki related, but no one needed to know that.

“Good, good,” she answered. A little cold-shouldered early in the mornings, but she was a good mentor. A step up from your old boss, anyway.

The meeting went decently well. Nothing of particular note, just a lot of information that you tried to soak up like a sponge as you took diligent notes and gave your opinion when it was asked for. Your experience at another company gave you a valuable perspective that others only familiar with this system didn’t have, but you made sure not to overstep too much being such a green employee.

If it hadn’t been for Katsuki pushing you for something better, if his confidence and drive to be the best hadn’t rubbed off on you, then you’d still be stuck at that old job working late hours while feeling sorry for yourself. While you did the work, his support got you through it. For as long as you’d have this job and wherever it led, you’d give a small, silent thanks to Katsuki.

Hands hovering motionlessly across your keyboard as you zoned out when it neared lunchtime and the midday tiredness from waking up extra early for therapy reared its sleepy head. Shaking yourself awake, you stared at your screen and finished downloading some files you needed before someone came up behind you and tapped you on the shoulder.

“Hey, we’re heading out for lunch. Wanna come?” These were some of the coworkers that had extended the introductory hand of polite greeting when you first arrived, but you actually found common ground and overlapping interests. Though you’d normally accept their invitation, today you just… didn’t quite feel up to holding up an hour-long conversation.

Shaking your head with a tired smile, you answered, “Not today, sorry. Maybe later this week? Today is a day to chill out and eat alone, ya know?”

Luckily, the group didn’t make a big deal out of it. “Alright, no problem. See ya!” With that, you waved them off as they headed towards the elevator while you grabbed your purse and tossed on your jacket to avoid the autumn chill outside.

Stepping onto the sidewalk from the back stairwell that could only be accessed with a keycard, you thought about your lunch options. Once you dried your eyes for the most part and pulled yourself relatively together, you had attempted to make yourself lunches and cook more; it’s what Katsuki would’ve wanted… but every time you pulled out a pan or went to grab something from the pantry, you just pictured him clicking his tongue and tapping his foot while mumbling to himself in Japanese as he figured out what to cook; a mirage that always disappeared.

It usually caused you to break down into an emotional mess. Takeout containers filled your trash can as an unfortunate result.

Some of his leftover ingredients needed to be tossed out, leaving your fridge embarrassingly barren, but you hadn’t gathered up the energy to go grocery shopping by yourself yet. Maybe this weekend. Yeah. This weekend...

Shaking off the distaste of a lonely shopping trip without his nagging and boisterous laughter at your road rage, you decided your belly craved something warm. Willing yourself to avoid thinking too much into it, you walked a few blocks until you stood in front of the ramen shop. Was this a bad idea? To grab lunch someplace full of nostalgia for you? Reaching up to clench the front of your blouse as your heart raced and the pang of heartache pinched painfully behind your ribcage, you caught yourself and brought your hand back down to your side. He wouldn’t want you paralyzed like this, especially from grabbing a simple lunch, right? He was probably doing fine on his own, returning to his normal life with his friends and Hero work. Perfectly fine… without you.

“Excuse me.” A stranger’s voice forced you to step back on reflex as a group of people shouldered past you into the ramen shop. Standing to the side, you wondered again if you could manage this seemingly simple task? And maybe, just maybe, learning how to fall into a routine devoid of Katsuki was something you needed to jump right into like a cannonball in a cold pool.

“Table for one, please. Indoors if it’s available,” you requested of the host standing behind the desk just past the front doors.

“Of course. Let’s see… alright, follow me!” The enthusiastic host led you towards the back wall and to a small table with two chairs next to a window facing the street. Once they handed you the menu, they said, “Your server will be right over with some water.”

“Thanks,” was all you managed before they walked back towards the front as you settled into your lonely lunch. Maybe you should’ve gone with the others… but by the way your hands opened and closed around nothing against your thighs, you knew this was the best choice. Hearing them ask about your personal life to get to know you better sounded absolutely abysmal right now.

When a glass of water appeared on your table, you looked up to halfway expecting the same waitress that had taken your orders the last two times, but saw an unfamiliar face. “Do you want anything other than water?”

“Oh, no thanks I’m fine,” you answered in a polite tone.

“Cool, I’ll give you a few minutes to look over the menu.” And with that, he disappeared just as quickly as the host. Well, at least this meant you could have a quiet and peaceful lunch to yourself. Without distractions… shit. It was bad enough when you were at home by yourself and everything reminded you of Katsuki, but you didn’t need this shit during your lunch hour, too. As you idly played with your straw and scrolled through Twitter, you heard someone gasp behind you and looked over your shoulder to make sure everything was fine, only to see a familiar face staring down at you.

“Hiii! Do you remember me? Pfft, probably, dumb question.” The same waitress that both hit on and then apologized for hitting on Katsuki barely a week later stood next to your table without a hint of reticence. Oh, perfect. “Where’s your guy today?”

It took more energy than you thought you possessed in that moment to not just slam your head against the table and screech through your teeth. Instead, you settled on a flat out lie. “He’s just busy today.”

And of course, this girl was too well-versed in spotting bullshit to know you were talking out of your ass.

“Nah, that’s bull. I can tell.”

“You can tell? What? No.”

She gave you a “you’re kidding, right?” look as her mouth twisted skeptically. “Yeah, I can. I’m super good at lying to my mom. And before you say anything, I’m living at home while going to college and working to save money. So, what happened? You two were so cute. Did he break up with you? Should I spill ramen on him the next time he comes in?”

Sitting with your mouth agape at the boldness of this waitress, you couldn’t help but let out a single, airy noise somewhere between a cough and an awkward laugh. “Wow, what a story.” The fact that she was willing to go so far as to piss off Katsuki to defend your honor was weirdly sweet, though. “Um… but fine, OK. We, uh, broke up. He went back to Japan. So there’s no need to wait around to try and beat him up… or something. It’s fine.”

It definitely wasn’t fine, and neither were you.

A genuine-looking frown slid onto her face and the sinking fear began to creep up into your throat like writhing eels. Too real, too soon, too raw-

“God, I’m- shit. Gotta go, sorry, I’ll be back!” With a few menus under her arm, the waitress sped away back towards the front. When she was finally gone, you slid down in your seat and wanted nothing more than to crawl under the table and take a horribly uncomfortable nap. All you craved was a lunch without drama and something warm in your belly to push away the perpetual chill for a little while. Apparently, that was just too much to ask for.

Someone else digging into your relationship status or the personal drama surrounding vague answers and roundabout responses to what should’ve been innocent questions about your emotional well being after a breakup wasn’t exactly pleasant conversation. It was normal to check up on people after that, but of course, not everyone responded similarly. Some people surrounded themselves with close friends and platonic partners to dull the ache, which was exactly what you did with your friend at first before you started your job… but now, you’d exhausted your social cravings and decided that being alone to meditate with your feelings was the best course of action for the time being, even if it meant cuddling stuffed animals alone on your couch.

Huffing through your nose with a deep frown, you stared down at the menu and attempted to pick out something to eat despite your sudden loss of appetite. Just then, your original waiter arrived back at your table to ask for your order. Even if you didn’t eat it all, you could take the takoyaki and ramen home with you for dinner or lunch tomorrow.

“Anything else?” he asked while jotting down your order.

“No, that’s it,” you answered as you handed over your menu. As you tried to distract yourself from thinking of Katsuki by scrolling through Twitter on your phone, you looked up from your screen as someone sat down on the edge of the empty seat across from you. The nosy waitress was back.

“Sorry, sorry, if you legit hate me I’ll just go. I’m not dumb, ya know, I can take a hint.”

“Don’t you need to be, uh, working…?”

The woman shrugged. “Five minute break. Plus, I’m terrible at keeping to myself as you could probably guess by now,” she explained while leaning her crossed arms on the table and stared at you, attempting to read the subtleties etched into your face. “So… should I stay, or should I go?”

Despite obviously being younger than you, this woman was bold and cheeky in a way that almost reminded you of Katsuki. It would’ve been funny if you could forget about her trying to hit on him during your little lunch date. And even though she apologized, it still felt awkward that she was attempting to talk to you in a chummy-sort of way.

While part of you wanted to just tell her to leave you alone, a tiny, bothersome voice said to placate the waitress for now. Maybe she was just trying to be a better person? At least you didn’t have to put up as much of a front compared to your coworkers who you had to see and talk to the rest of the day.

With a sigh, you tiredly looked up and nodded. “What are you studying in school?”

Excited that you didn’t kick her to the curb, she answered with a flip of her hair, “I’m in law school studying to be an attorney.”

“Oh, wow.” Hiding the surprise in your voice was impossible. Assumptions were never a great thing to make, especially when it came to someone’s career choice or work ethic based on appearance, but you weren’t faultless all the time. “Uh, sorry…”

“Nah, I get that a lot,” she explained with another shrug. “Mom doesn’t think I can do it, either. But If Elle Woods can look hot and smart, then I can, too!”

It took you a full three seconds to recall who the hell she was talking about, but when it did, you actually managed to laugh. “Elle Woods from Legally Blonde?” No wonder she seemed at ease with speaking her mind: lawyers didn’t give a damn.

“Yeah! I know it’s kinda outdated now, but it still holds up as a pretty good movie.”

For the next few minutes, the two of you fell into surprisingly easy conversation regarding the movie, law school, work, etc. But while you were in a mid-sentence ramble, she abruptly stood up and said, “Gotta go again! Work, ugh, you know.”

As she quickly walked away, you leaned into the back of the chair and stared at the condensation dripping down your glass of water. Well, that was… unexpected, but not wholly unpleasant. She made a selfish mistake with the whole hitting-on-Katsuki thing, apologized, learned from it, and moved on. You hated the petty stereotype of women being catty to each other, especially over men, so an optimistic part of you - a part that hadn’t felt invigorated since Katsuki left - wanted to latch onto this little peek of sunshine through the clouds.

You were brought back to reality when your actual waiter came by and set a steaming bowl of ramen and a side of takoyaki in front of you. “Need anything else?”

“Ah, no thanks, I’m good.”

An awkward pause. “If you would like Livia to leave you alone, I can definitely tell her that she’s being rude. She… is very talkative.” It was probably the nicest way of saying “nosy” that he could think of while remaining professional.

“Oh, um, no, no she’s fine. Really, it’s not a big deal,” you insisted with a smile that convinced absolutely no one. Getting her in trouble for wanting to chat put a bad taste in your mouth, and you hadn’t even eaten your lunch yet!

He seemed rightfully skeptical, but nodded. “If you’re sure. Enjoy your meal.” With that, he turned on his heel and headed back towards the front of the restaurant.

Only when you looked back down at your bowl of ramen and the curling fish flakes on top of your takoyaki were you reminded of the potential regret of coming here for lunch. And of course, you sat along at the table with no one for company or simple conversation.

Losing your appetite these days seemed all too common, but you knew you needed to eat. Maybe if you gradually sprinkled spicier ingredients into your food, then the extra spicy ramen he enjoyed would be more appealing. Not that you wanted to consume everything he did, of course not, but he opened up the doors to new habits and things you had always brushed off. If you wanted to continue to grow as a person, to be the best you that you could be, then taking a page out of Bakugo Katsuki’s book probably wasn’t the worst idea.

By the time lunch was over, you’d barely managed to eat half of everything and needed some takeout containers. Just a few more in your fridge wouldn’t crowd it too much, right?

The lunch rush must’ve picked up because Livia, the waitress, didn’t come back to shoehorn herself into your moping, even if you did halfway appreciate the unexpected company. However, you glimpsed her on your way out and gave a small, genial wave in her direction before heading out the door. Maybe the next time your coworkers invited you out to lunch, you’d actually take them up on it.

The rest of the work day didn’t drag on as terribly as the morning, and with some food on your stomach, the lack of energy from this morning luckily turned around. The only thing that really started to bother you was a slightly overly-friendly coworker who kept sending you memes that were out of date and unfunny; sometimes, ignoring someone is the best policy on the basis that you’re just too busy to reply.

Because the sun had begun setting later in the day and your desk was near a window, there was a point towards the end of the afternoon where the sun, as if to spite you, bounded perfectly off the window of a neighboring building and blinded your entire computer screen for a good five minutes. “Guess I’ll grab some water,” you muttered to yourself while squinting away from the sunlight.

As you walked into the kitchen, several people from a different team were chatting near the sink.

“Any plans for a Halloween costume this year? I think there’s gonna be prize money again for the contest,” the man with glasses slightly too large for his face said to the other.

“I’m thinking about making my costume? Homemade shit usually does the best. I bet I could do like… an All Might thing. Like with the heavy face shadows and stuff?”

Your hand paused around a glass in the cabinet as you eavesdropped on their conversation. Everyone talked so casually about anime characters without any possible idea that the universe actually existed. Were… were you the only person with this knowledge in the whole world? If the My Hero Academia universe existed, did that mean other anime and manga universes existed, too? How had you never considered that possibility before?

Apparently, you zoning out through an existential crisis with your hand hovering in the kitchen cabinet seemed concerning to your coworkers.

One of them leaned over the counter and asked, “Uh, you good? Need some help?”

“Huh?” The glass touching your fingers suddenly toppled over the edge of the shelf and would’ve landed squarely on your head had you not fumbled the world’s most mundanely impressive catch of a falling kitchen object. You lost your balance to keep the glass from shattering all over the floor, causing you to fall right on your ass, instead. It was such a comically stupid thing brought on by the unforseen eavesdropping of your coworkers talking about My Hero Academia that you couldn’t help but sputter out strained laughter in disbelief.

“Woah, shit, you OK?” One of the guys quickly came around the little kitchen island and offered a hand to help you up. Shifting the glass, you grabbed it and managed to get back up to your feet with only minor dust and food crumbs on your pants.

“Thanks. Really just zoned out at the wrong time,” you explained while brushing yourself off.

“Been there, done that,” he replied. “You new? Don’t think I recognize you.”

After confirming that you were, in fact, new, you exchanged introductions and found out that he worked on the floor above yours. “We don’t have a kitchen up there, I think they’re just on every other floor or something, so I definitely use it as an excuse to take some much-needed walk breaks every few hours.”

Nodding in understanding, you pushed your glass under the water fountain and said, “well, nice meeting you, but I better get back.”

“I probably should, too.” Once your glass was full, you gave a small wave and headed back towards your desk. It had taken so little for you to lose focus; any adjacent mention of the anime or characters in Katsuki’s world tended to make you freeze. Sitting back at your desk with the glaring sunlight having moved on, you put back on your headphones and threw yourself into work for the rest of the day. If you were focused, you didn’t have to think about how your heart jumped into your throat at every inconvenient moment.

As the sun began to finally set and half the office had gone home for the day, you leaned back in your chair to stretch your fingers from the near-constant typing and mouse clicking. “Alright… what time is it?” Glancing at the corner of your screen, your eyes widened; you’d stayed nearly half an hour longer than you needed to. You needed to rush home before Katsuki-

Oh. That was right. He wasn’t there. Even after three weeks, you sometimes forgot that your apartment was just… empty, now. Going home meant facing loneliness without distraction, but staying at work any longer wasn’t feasible, and you were feeling hungry for dinner. So, you closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again to stare at the ceiling tiles for a solid ten seconds before putting your computer to sleep, grabbing your things - including your leftover ramen -, and heading towards the elevator that took you down to the parking garage.

Every time you drove or walked home, you were reminded of everything missing that Katsuki had brought with him that made you look forward to opening your front door, empty hands and all. You used to look forward to going home so you could watch him cook and welcomed the warmth and energy that surrounded him; Katsuki, someone who looked at ease even when in perpetual motion, just like the ebb and flow of the sea. Natural. Someone who asked about your day, who raised his voice in unison when complaining about work or laughed with you over jokes that only seemed to make sense at that moment.

Before you knew it, you had parked and were staring at the trunk of a tree with orange-gold leaves situated on an embankment in front of the apartment parking lot. All you had to do was get out of the car, walk up the building steps, and you’d be home. A quiet, solitary home.

Still in the slow process of setting in the background, the rich sunlight bounced off the windows of your car as the heel of your shoe crunched the asphalt underneath until you met the sidewalk, and finally the dingy carpeting covering the communal hallways of the apartment building. You didn’t run into your elderly neighbor today, but that was all right. Maybe that whole situation at lunch plus unloading a chunk of your emotional instability onto your therapist this morning had been enough conversational engagement for the day.

You smelled nothing as you stood outside your own door. No warm food and snappy wit would greet you on the other side. Instead, as you opened it with a jingle of your keys, all you found was unnerving and lonely silence.

Did Katsuki feel this way, too? Despite never having set foot in his world or his home, did he ever feel odd making food only for himself, or look up towards his front door expecting it to open? Did he miss you like you missed him in the same, mundane way?

The clenching in your chest, the stuttering that sometimes kept you up at night outside of your nightmares and stopped you cold in your tracks at the absolute worst times kicked up again as you closed the front door behind you. You bit your lip as it threatened to quiver. It had been three weeks, shouldn’t you have a better handle on things by now?

Standing in front of the fridge, you frowned seeing all the leftovers and takeout containers lining the shelves, only to add one more to the mix with your lunch from today. “I need a fucking grip…guess I know what we’ll bring up in therapy next week.”

Rather than pull out something for dinner right away, you walked around your kitchen and looked towards the re-potted flowers you’d been struggling to keep alive. Despite your best efforts and following the directions of the well-intentioned man from the store, they just weren’t doing so well as you’d hoped. In some way, you felt that if the flowers died, so would your memories of Katsuki. He, with all his harsh corners and jagged edges, had picked you flowers in an overly-typical act of romance. It was something you’d never have pictured him doing, but the way he continuously surprised you - and maybe even himself, too - made you soft.

Since you didn’t have a balcony, the best you could do was set the planter against the window with the curtain open all day to let in the sunlight that passed over your building. Some of the petals had been wilting, leaves browning at the edges, and every drooping stem just made you deflate like a miserable balloon.

You almost didn’t want to look at them too closely, reminded of something you’d been working hard at but just couldn’t succeed in, but today was watering day and you didn’t want to give up on them yet.

… But stepping closer, something seemed different. Maybe it was the sunset warmth streaming in during the last few hours of daylight or your mind visualizing things you just wanted to see rather than what was actually there, but the wilting didn’t look quite as bad today. A few new leaves began to slowly unfurl, and one of the buds with pale yellow petals that reminded you a bit of Katsuki’s hair even angled itself slightly towards the sun, opening up just the tiniest bit more.

It felt like hope. Small, tender, and delicate, it needed nurturing to blossom and grow, but Katsuki’s predilection towards pushing through to the highest peaks had undoubtedly rubbed off on you.

With damp eyes and the evening sun haloing you in warm afternoon light, you felt the ghostly sensation of eyes on your back, staring with mesmerized wonder. But of course as you turned around back towards the kitchen, no one was there. Yet another ghostly memory that you sincerely hoped you wouldn’t forget.

And through it all? You managed the tiniest of smiles. It felt like, for the first time in three weeks, things might just be alright.

____________________

First off, i'm very sorry for how late and short this chapter is. Life's been rough and busy and it's been a struggle. The next few chapters are planned as much longer and I think i'll be more motivated to write them. Thanks for sticking around <3

As y'all can see, reader is dealing with things in a much healthier way than Katsuki is, but is still heartbroken over it all. Next chapter, we'll come back to Katsuki with another little timeskip to see exactly how he's doing and what he plans to finally do about it (keep your tissues handy)

Tagged list: @featherboawing @108052921 @bemyhero-academia @hentaidemon69 @makarovs-brat @alexparrsih @desia22 @justalittlecrazybutimok @trashqueenbitch @loverbug1123 @manq-fandoms @theworldsgreatestdisapointment @dabwithperkins

@sarcasm-is-my-form-of-attack @i-am-fandoms-and-satan @eternal-apricot @grumpbisexual @ha-tep @apsara-study @nyantodamax145 @bakuhoetoedoroki @stargazerunlimited @fairyf3v3r @the-abyss-of-fandoms

#bakugou x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x fem! reader #mha x y/n #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #bakugou katsuki fanfiction #bnha writing blog #mha writing blog

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kirishimas-manly-eyeliner · 4 years

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If you haven’t seen A Day With Kirishima yet or Waking Up With Todoroki, be sure to view that first! Welcome to your days of online school with...

☏ [2/5] going to online school with todoroki ☏

todoroki makes sure that you focus, which is kinda a problem if you’re like me

...and you just don’t focus-

dw though, because if you ever zone out, man’s will be sure to be prepared because he can and will force you into getting focused again

he promises you a kith whenever you finish a class 🥺🥺❤️

“i love you, but i really don’t want to do this today.”

(honestly, i would like to headcanon that you probably do online school with rolling chairs, so you’re probably gonna be spinning whenever you get bored)

“and i love you, but here we are, my love. the day will be over before you know it,” he brings out the softest smile ever before cupping your face and pecking your nose

since todoroki has online class as well, he sits next to you to be able to hold your hand off-camera beCAUSE YES

if you two ever get caught, his left side literally lights tf up

you thought man’s would be cool and collected the whole time, but NOPE HE’S JUST AS FLUSTURED AS YOU BABY

but you put it aside and say you were just petting your cat

todoroki also most definitely has some sort of fancy candle or a spray or whatever that he uses to stay focused

once or twice, he’ll most definitely spray way too much, so in one instance you had to go outside

in the backyard

and do your homework there as the wind blew all of your printed papers away

but anyways-

todoroki is on the top of his game to make sure that yOU STAY HYDRATED

IF YOU’RE READING THIS GO DRINK SOME WATER YOU MALNOURISHED AND DEHYDRATED ANGEL

he smiles at you whenever he sees that you’re stuck, and the way his eyebrows furrow in such a cute way just fricken asdfghjklkmnbvcxzaqwertyujhgcwjvhhviu

if you ever get burnt out, he plants a kiss on your forehead and holds you until you have to go to your next class, and gets you a wet towel to just feel better and *sparkles* fresher

oh and FIGHT ME, he most definitely opens up the doors and uses natural light rather than turning the lights on

if you ever feel frustrated or just feel too overhwhelmed, he takes your hand and asks you to breathe with him before pulling you into a hug

he would be such a good companion for online school, please keep him 🥺

BE A FRIEND ON MY TAG LIST :D

｡⋆☂˚｡ waking up with him + morning training

｡⋆☂˚｡ going to online school (*)

｡⋆☂˚｡ lunch + study sessions

｡⋆☂˚｡ showers (sfw!) + cuddle sessions

｡⋆☂˚｡ date night headcanons

thank you, love! remember to hydrate, drink water, and take care of yourself! <hugs!>

#a day with todoroki!#ellie writes #todoroki x reader #todoroki x gn!reader #todoroki hcs #todoroki headcanons #bnha headcanons #bnha hcs #valentine's special #todoroki #shoto todoroki #mha hcs #mha headcanons #My hero academia #boku no hero academia

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itmighthavebeenintentional · 4 years

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I’m Ready

Summary: “I can’t...I can’t take my forever if you’re not in it.”

Picks up right where the show left off. Not technically a fix-it, as I didn’t change anything, but I promise it gets better.

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of (canon) child abuse and neglect, mentions of past trauma, working through trauma, denial, bit of pining (but, like, in a denial sort of way), some fluff, some angst (but not as much as there is fluff)

Author’s Note: So many thanks to @there-must-be-a-lock for endless suggestions, fixes, and beautiful images (header AND dividers!!!). Thanks to all my friends for cheering me on, especially @thoughtslikeaminefield ; I probably wouldn’t have kept going with the story without you.

This is my first Destiel story and my first time posting in a while. Please be kind.

Word Count: 7704

In case you missed it: ItMightHaveBeenintentional’s Masterlist

Dean isn’t sure how long he’s been in heaven, at least not by heaven’s timeframe. Probably years, maybe even a couple of decades. He doesn’t age in heaven, and time works differently, running fast and stretching slow.

For Dean, heaven is a chance to rest, catch up with his massive found family, and just breathe for the first time since he was a kid. No worrying about Sam, no waiting for the next monster to pop out, no prepping for the next apocalypse.

Nothing like heaven to give a guy time to kick his boots off and just relax.

Unfortunately, relaxing has never come easy to Dean. Sure, he can go through the motions (binge watching horror movies, binge drinking, hell, just bingeing in general), but relaxing is an entirely different matter.

Relaxing means letting his guard down. It means giving up his hypervigilance. It means sleeping hard and staying asleep until he wakes naturally and unassisted by attackers. It means spending long moments reminding himself the monster at the end of the book is really gone.

Sam is safe. Everyone he’s ever loved is safe and close, where he can reach them.

Almost everyone.

...

Jake Walker is born on the ninth of July at twenty-one seconds past 9:14 AM. His mother Samantha is exhausted after a two-weeks-early delivery, but both she and the baby are strong and steady. Her wife didn’t faint, none of the medical team ever sounded the least worried, and she heard her son’s first shocked wail as he came into the world. Exhausted, but definitely good.

His mom Betty, on the other hand, is an absolute wreck. She’s been anxious the entire pregnancy, despite good news from the doctor at every visit, and she is terrified that the unexpected early arrival of their son means her worst fears are just beginning.

Betty takes slow, calming breaths, focusing on not clamping down too hard on Sam’s hand. She has to stay strong, calm, for her new family. She has to keep her head on straight, in case—in case —

“Your son is absolutely fine, seems he just had a real particular time he wanted to arrive. Here he is.”

Betty opens her eyes to find a delivery nurse beaming at her, proffering a small, swaddled bundle.

“Never seen such a calm baby. Here, he’s been waiting for you.”

Betty looks down into the startlingly clear, mossy green eyes gazing up at her from the squashed, serene little face, and she feels something click into place in the middle of her chest. Samantha leans her head back against her pillow, letting out a long slow breath as she smiles, and Betty’s pulse slowly finds its way back to something like normal.

“We’ve been waiting for you, too, big guy.”

...

Trauma doesn’t heal in a day, not even in heaven. All the shit Dean remembers — all the shit he tried to forget — everything he ever managed to suppress — drives him from his bed at night, leaving him sleepless on his front porch, staring blankly into the night, or tinkering on Baby in the garage, digging into the perfect engine, determined to distract himself from his spiraling thoughts.

Dean has never been an idiot, no matter how many times he played the fool in life. The people he and Sam couldn’t save, the people he let down, none of those deaths are on him. Dean isn’t responsible for the pain and suffering, but he’s haunted by it all the same.

The problem is, haunts don’t go away on their own. Every hunter knows that.

It’s not that he wants forgiveness; how can he be forgiven for something he isn’t responsible for? He needs to see those people, though, see that they’re okay and at peace. He has to make sure everyone is where they should be, safe and at least content. And even if he ultimately isn’t their killer, didn’t want their deaths, would have done anything to prevent them, he still needs them to know...to know everything.

He needs absolution.

And if the person who needs to hear those things the most is MIA, well, they’ve got a history of not saying a lot of things face to face. There’s always prayer, right?

Dean starts by visiting a couple of people he hadn’t been able to save along the way, feeling strangely like someone following a twelve step program. Objectively, (ie, according to the people he talks to), he’s got nothing to apologize for. He did his best; he made tough decisions in situations forced upon him. They don’t blame him in the least, and most are truly and obviously thankful for his intervention.

Their words don’t make much of a dent in the mountain of guilt Dean carries on his shoulders, but it’s a start.

Once or twice, Dean finds himself looking up at the sky, so far from empty, opening his mouth to call out — an action so common on earth it nearly became reflex —but he stops himself both times. He’s not ready for that conversation.

But he needs to talk to someone closer to him, a deeper connection than the monster victims he’s been visiting.

He’s restless, needs to move a little, needs to talk to…

Someone. He needs to talk to someone. But he can’t. Hell, he can’t even say the name.

Pacing the garage turns to a wandering ramble down the road, past Sam and his family’s house, past Mom and Dad’s house (there’s a conversation or fifty that he’s not ready for), until he finds himself in front of what can only be described as a hobbit hole. He shakes his head, not for the first time, the corner of his mouth tilted up as he knocks on the circular front door.

He’s greeted by bright red hair, a surprisingly crushing hug, and one of the brightest smiles Dean has ever seen.

“Hey, Charlie. Can we, uh...You up for a walk? I was hopin we could talk for a while.”

...

Jake grows quickly and steadily, always near the top of all his growth charts but never alarmingly so. He’s bright, quick to anger and quick to laugh, and fiercely loving. He is both his mothers’ boy, always up for a cuddle or a wrestle, and he loves to build block towers and demolish them with equal abandon.

He makes his displeasure with vegetables known early on. On this particular morning, he introduces his strained peas to the kitchen wall with surprising velocity. Betty knows better than to encourage this attitude, so she hides her smile behind calm, controlled admonition as she offers another spoonful.

Jake looks her straight in the eyes, his smile dazzling and laughter bright, and she knows she hasn’t fooled him one bit. She sighs and lets her own smile match his. He won her over the day he was born; there’s not much point trying to fight it now.

“Come on, babe, eat your peas and we’ll see about some of those stewed apples left over from Mommy’s pie filling. Deal?”

She scrunches her nose and wiggles her eyebrows. Jake’s little eyes widen at her expression, and he tries to imitate it before dissolving into giggles. Betty takes the opportunity to poke a spoonful of peas into his open mouth.

She’s not spent much time around kids before this, but Betty swears she’s never seen a baby look so resigned and exasperated in real life. But she’s played her trump card. He’s too young for the crust, but a couple of spoonfuls of smashed up fruit (apple is his favorite), and Jake is guaranteed to eat just about anything she presents.

“Pie?” she asks.

Jake smiles and opens his mouth wider.

...

“SURPRISE!!!”

The last time he was shocked this badly, Sam didn’t let him forget that fucking cat for years. Or ever, really. Seems like everyone he ever knew is stuffed into his living room, barely leaving room for the balloon bouquets and a massive… That’s not a cake, it’s…

That’s the most beautiful apple pie Dean has ever seen in his entire life.

Dean is engulfed by arms, hugging and patting and slapping his back (was that a pinch on his ass?), everyone eager to get their turn with him, wishing him a happy birthday, saying they can’t wait until he opens his presents, it’s so good to see him, he’s looking so rested!

He manages to extract himself from the wellwishers, citing parental obligations, and finally makes his way over to Mary, smiling warmly and offering him a knife and a plate. His eyes flick anxious from his mom to the golden brown circle of perfection before him, but he can’t bring himself to ask. Mary’s smile widens.

“I didn’t lay a hand on it except to take it out of the box. Happy Birthday, Dean.”

Six plates of pie later, Dean reclines on his couch, letting the relaxed atmosphere of the party sink into his bones. The excitement and crowd of early have begun to wind down, leaving a double handful of family, both blood and found, all telling the most embarrassing, terrible Dean stories they can think of.

It’s possible Dean’s never laughed this hard in his entire life.

He heaves a deep sigh of contentment and props his feet ponderously on the coffee table, draping an arm across the back of the couch and surveying the room.

Donna, one of the apparent party conspirators, tosses him a sparkling grin over her shoulder before turning back to a rather animated conversation with Charlie about the length of Dean’s wig at the LARPing battle. Sam and Kevin are recounting Dean’s worst cooking disasters to Garth’s wife, and Bobby is entertaining Mary with Dean’s disastrous attempt to flirt with the pizza delivery girl who delivered to Bobby’s house most weekends when Sam and Dean would stay with him.

If Dean had to describe one perfect day, this would be just about it, down to the flakiness of the pie crust and the amazing collection of horror movies and original vinyls he’s been gifted. Almost every single person he could possibly want present is there, and since he isn’t dwelling on absence today, Dean decides to push his wandering thoughts out of his head and just soak it all in.

Every muscle in his body hums contentedly, and Dean feels strangely warm and peaceful, but excited, all at once. It’s weird, just sitting here and enjoying the moment, not worrying about the next minute or hour or day or even year. He’s full of pie, he’s got great tunes to look forward to, and there’s nothing to worry about.

He’s happy.

Naturally, that’s when the panic sets in. This won’t last; it never does. Happiness can’t last. He learned that a long time ago.

Sure, it’s heaven, but he doesn’t deserve to be here, so something is going to spoil it for him, for everyone. Probably Dean himself, he thinks as his eyes dart from his mom to his dad. Dean always seems to find a way to fuck things up, couldn’t take care of Sam, couldn’t keep himself alive, couldn’t even keep the Empty from—

“Hey, birthday boy.” Jody’s voice somehow reaches Dean through his darkening thoughts, and he comes back to himself in stages, focusing on the warmth of her hands on his shoulders. She stands behind the couch, leaning down to squeeze his shoulders. “Wanna get some air?”

He nods blindly and climbs numbly to his feet. Jody guides him efficiently out the door and points Dean in an arbitrary direction. They walk for what could be moments or hours as Dean plows through the morass in his mind.

“I get it,” Jody finally says.

Dean glances sharply at her.

“I still have random panic attacks sometimes, wondering if Alex is safe at the hospital, if this is going to be the hunt that gets Claire.” Her eyes are fixed on some point in the distance, and he gets the feeling she’s deliberately not meeting his eyes. “I check on Owen every thirty minutes on my bad nights, and I have to lay hands and eyes on Sean to convince myself he’s really there before I can calm down. It always takes me a minute or sixty to make myself remember where we are, where everyone is, and that there isn’t some big or even small bad waiting around the corner or under the bed.”

Dean stuffs his hands in his pockets, stuffing down his automatic reassurances. The first half of his life was spent avoiding conversations like this, and it took him a long time to unlearn the knee-jerk reaction to brush off people’s concerns with some variation of “Everything’s fine.”

Jody, with an awareness born of decades of hunting and parenthood, senses his discomfort. She slows her steps and catches Dean’s elbow, turning him gently to face her.

“That feeling in your gut when the happiness comes, the panic, that knowledge deep, deep down that everything good is bound to turn to shit.” Jody reaches out and wipes a trickle of moisture from Dean’s face.

It’s not raining, he thinks, frowning. Where the hell did that come from?

“You're going to unlearn it. You’re the toughest bastard I’ve ever met, Dean, and you've been through literal hell. If anyone has earned their happiness up here, it’s you. You’re allowed to be happy, and someday you’ll know it.”

Dean would love to reply right now, to contradict Jody. He’d love to remind her of all the bad calls he made, of all the torturing he did in hell, of all the lies he told...

But this knot in his throat is choking him. And still Jody persists.

“I know how goddamned stubborn you are, but you’re not stupid either. We have nothing to forgive you for. Maybe once you’ve talked to everyone on your list, you’ll see that, too. But in the meantime, take a deep breath, give me a hug, and at least say in your head that you’re allowed to enjoy yourself at your own damned birthday party, even if you can’t admit it out loud.”

And if the damp patch on Jody’s shoulder bothers her as they stroll back to Dean’s house to grab a couple of beers, at least she’s tactful enough to not mention it.

...

Jake takes care of his family. He’s a fairly serious, empathetic toddler, quick to kiss other’s ouchies. After receiving his first Elmo bandage, Jake insists on bandaging his stuffed puppy’s tail, his tyrannosaurus rex’s left eye (“He fight with stegosaurus,” Jake solemnly informs Samantha as he presses the adhesive strip in place), and then an old, almost-healed shaving cut on Betty’s left knee.

“Mama better now?” Jake asks, somehow managing to sound strictly professional and absurdly adorable at the same time. He looks up to Betty for approval, and she wonders how she manages to let him touch the ground at all with how much she just wants to hold him all day long.

“Mama so much better now,” she informs him, careful to stay serious. He rewards her with the golden smile that is the highlight of her days before rushing off to find someone else he can fix up.

Both Betty and Samantha marvel in his quickness to share his snacks. They never refuse an offered Cheerio from him, no matter how damp or sticky (though a few of those disappear quickly when Jake’s attention wanders).

The discussion over a first pet is fairly quick and decisive. Everyone agrees the pet must be something fluffy that can be cuddled. Betty vetoes anything smaller than a cantaloupe, citing her clumsiness and tendency to step on things that should never be trod upon. Jake vetoes cats, saying he just doesn’t trust them, and Mommy and Mama share one of their silent conversations before Samantha speaks up.

“A puppy it is, then, Jakey. Let’s go look up some good breeds.”

Their first pet is a rescue named Garth, at Jake’s adamant insistence, though they're still not sure where he learned that name in the first place. Garth is clumsy, awkward, easy-going, and the most spoiled and cared for pet in the neighborhood.

Jake’s little sister Tabitha comes along shortly before his fourth birthday, and he takes to big brotherhood with an authority and self-assurance that delights every stranger the family meets. When she eventually starts walking, Jake is right by her side, guiding each one of her toddling little steps while a beaming Mommy and Mama follow close behind.

No one is even a little surprised when Tabby’s first whole word is “Hake.” She masters the letter j eventually, but continues to refer to his big brother by the name she gave him for most of the rest of their lives. Jake doesn’t even pretend to be annoyed.

“It was just a matter of time,” Samantha says one night, as she and Betty are getting ready for bed one night not long after Tabby has given Jake his new moniker. “You know what I mean?”

Betty, who has known exactly what Sam means since the day she literally tripped over her future wife at university, smiles and turns down the covers on her side of the bed.

“That’s Jake,” she says. They’ve spent hours, discussing their son’s odd, charming quirks long into the night, offering up phrases like “old soul” and “wise,” and eventually realized nothing they said could ever completely encompass the loving little person they somehow managed to bring into the world.

“That’s Jake,” Sam agrees, and turns her version of Jake’s golden smile on her wife. Mischief sparkles in her eyes, and Betty wonders how she ended up with three people in her life that she absolutely cannot win against.

“Ready to get sweaty, Betty?”

Betty groans but can’t hold back her grin. “You are the absolute worst, and that is exactly why I love you.”

…

Sam manages to shock Dean when he insists on a big family Christmas. His extra years on earth apparently helped the younger Winchester warm to the idea of holidays, finally getting to enjoy them with his son as he never did during his own childhood.

Sam doesn’t have to try very hard to talk everyone into celebrating. Things have been calm and serene, more than a little on the uneventful side, and Dean figures it will add some variety to his afterlife. Something to plan, something to look forward to that won’t be crashed by murderous Elder Gods or various other supernatural entities.

Probably.

Dean secretly loves that feeling of finding the perfect present for someone, something he was never really in a position to do back on earth. He takes a deep breath, proactively reminding himself that this is okay, this is allowed, this is good, that everything is not only okay but actually kind of great, really.

He can be happy. He can. He can do this.

The shade of red Sam’s face turns before he finally dissolves into laughter is a thousand percent worth the degradation of actually gifting someone a signed vinyl copy of Celine Dion’s first solo album.

“It’s perfect, Dean. Thanks, man.” Sam pulls his brother into a hug, and his giant paw slapping Dean in the middle of the back literally knocks the panic right out of him. Deans huffs, at a loss for words, and hugs Sam back perhaps just a smidge too forcefully before letting him go.

“You’ll never top Sapphire Barbie for best Christmas present, but this runs a close second.” Sam shakes his head, still grinning as he reads over the back cover of the album while Mary and John look on, varying levels of confusion and amusement on their faces.

“What’s he talking about, Dean?” John asks. He takes a long drink of his whiskey. “Sapphire Barbie? Some kinda code word or something?”

Sam and Dean glance at each other, their shoulders tensing automatically. For a moment, Dean can actually feel the phantom hunger pains transposed over the current fullness of his belly, and he can see a tiny Sam (still way more hair than necessary), huddled despondent and hungry under a shitty, moth-eaten motel blanket, convinced there would be no Christmas.

“Dean, uh...accidentally got me a Barbie for Christmas one year, it was — a, uh — yeah, he wanted to make sure I got a present, so he grabbed it, and…” Sam trails off.

John huffs a confused laugh, and Dean’s hackles rise at the scoff, so like Sam’s and yet so much more...condescending. John rises from the couch and goes to refill his glass. Sam seems content to let the moment pass, but something in Dean’s gut, something latent and ignored since his heavenly ascension, sparks and smolders bitterly.

“How the hell do you ‘accidentally’ get somebody a Barbie?” John asks, still chuckling, and Dean suddenly realizes he’s real fucking tired of biting his tongue.

“I stole the Barbie. Stole a couple of other things, too. A Christmas tree, some decorations, a baton.”

Mary glances between her sons, confused, before turning to John. “Where were you while this happened?”

A parade of emotions march over John’s face: confusion is followed by slow recognition. Guilt makes a quick appearance only to be chased away by dull, ashamed anger.

Dean can practically see John’s mind flashing through the scenario, recalling more about the hunt than his own sons on that cold, nasty Christmas Eve. He knows the instant his dad reverts to default setting of laying the blame on his eldest son. Dean braces himself automatically, his body viscerally reacting to the familiar storm on his father’s face.

Dean has the fleeting thought that at least his dad is drinking from a glass now; ought to hurt a lot less than being hit with a whole bottle.

“You left your brother to go steal from somebody else’s home on Christmas? After what happened with the shtriga?”

Dean knows true anger, near rage, for the first time in heaven, and the bitter wash of it through him is cutting and all too familiar.

“Pretty stupid thing to do, I know, but I wasn’t even twelve yet, so I wasn’t making the wisest of decisions.”

“Not even twelve?” Mary cuts in. “Sam? Does anybody feel like explaining this to me?”

“What the hell were you thinking, Dean, anything could have—”

But Dean had a lifetime of being plowed under by his dad’s inability to take responsibility, has had way more than enough of shouldering the blame for shit he should never have been left with in the first place.

“I was thinking that somebody should get a seven-year-old something for Christmas, should make sure he has enough to eat. Where were you, Dad? What were you thinking? Because you sure as hell weren’t thinking about us.”

That knot starts up in Dean’s throat again, the muscles tightening against the fear that blossoms in his chest, echoed from decades of training. Sam’s hand finds Dean’s arm, and Dean looks to him. Instead of the caution or reproach he’s expecting, though, all Sam simply nods.

“Say it, Dean.”

Dean stands slowly, facing John Winchester with every bit of strength he’s built, every bit of courage he’s earned from a lifetime of terror, and realizes that the angry, bitter man before him is no more a threat to him anymore than Chuck is. And without looking, he knows Sam stands behind him, solid and resolute.

“I wasn’t even twelve. It was Christmas, and you abandoned us. Yeah, I stole Sam a Barbie doll. You know what I got for Christmas that year? The year before? Every fucking year before that for almost as long as I can remember?”

John opens his mouth, even now unable to admit his faults, but Dean barrels on before his dad can get a word out.

“Not a damn thing from you. Not one damn thing. Not presents, not food, not a warm place to sleep or a word of thanks or approval. Not even a fucking phone call to say Merry Goddamn Christmas.” Dean pauses one last time, and it suddenly feels like he’s towering over the man whose shadow always felt too dark, too large, too suffocating; the man whose respect he used to crave more than food and water.

“What about me, Dad? Huh? What about me?”

Dean doesn’t recall leaving his parents’ house, doesn’t remember driving home, but he finds himself on his own front porch, leaning forward in his rocking chair. He takes in a long, deep breath before scrubbing his hands through hair and leaning against the back of the chair.

A breeze rifles the leaves of a nearby tree, ruffling Dean’s hair. He taps his thumb against the arm of the chair and takes a long moment to breathe in the night air.

Dean lets his thoughts roll around for a while. The stars creep slowly across the black, the crickets chirp, and the breeze continues to tickle through Dean’s mussed hair.

“You and I could write the book on shitty dads, am I right, kid?”

He’s not sure why he decides to talk to Jack. Just nice to have someone to talk to, knowing they’re not going to talk right back.

“Could just cut him out. Dunno how that’d work in heaven.” He thinks a moment, then grins to himself. “Not sure Mom’d let me get away with that. Sam would back me up, though.” Dean grins into the somehow not-empty night. “I would be the guy that brings a family feud into paradise, huh?”

Dean takes in the wilderness around him, the empty house at his back, the extra rocking chair for...a visitor, he supposes. He has learned today that heaven, as perfect as it is, still holds anger and bitterness and loneliness, and he figures that’s to be expected.

“You still did good, kid. You and me, we did good even with our shitty old men in and outta our lives. Glad we cut yours out for good. Guess I’ll figure out how to deal with mine eventually. All I’ve got now is time, anyway.”

Dean pushes up slowly, still surprised at the lack of cricks, pops, and aches that accompanied the action his last couple of years on earth.

“Night, Jack,” he says into the wind. He glances over at the empty rocking chair one last time. “If you see him, tell him —just tell him—”

Dean frowns, shakes his head, and turns his back on the night.

…

Jake’s not a crier, not really. There are inevitable tears that come with bad falls, but Jake sheds tears like it’s a physical reaction that he’s getting out of the way so he can move on.

So when Betty goes to change the sheets in her son’s room, only to find him silently crying on the floor, she panics. Sheets flop forgotten to the side as she drops next to his, reaching instinctively for his still-plump cheeks.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Are you hurt? What happened?”

“Nothing happened, Mama, I’m sorry I scared you,” he sniffles, his eyebrows down low on his small forehead.

Jake has never lied in his entire young life, and Betty is torn because he is obviously upset about something, but his face is full of nothing but truth and confusion.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Jakey,” she says, settling on the floor next to him and opening her arms. He instantly climbs into her lap, hooking his own arms around her neck and nuzzling under her chin. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Can you tell me what made you cry?”

“I...I don’t know,” he says, his little voice quiet and heavily confused. “I was playing with Tabby, she was helping me build a tower with my blocks, and then Mommy came to get Tabby for her snack.”

Betty is stumped. Jake has never had any kind of separation anxiety, as far as she can tell. He’s spent nights with both sets of grandparents, even a couple of weekends with aunts, uncles, and cousins, and never shed so much as a single tear.

“You...are you crying because you miss Tabby? She’s right in the next room, baby, you can go with her for snack time, you know that.”

“No, Mama, I —I don’t know why I’m crying. Tabby hugged me, she said she loved me, then she went with Mommy, and I felt...really happy. Like —the happiest ever, and...it was too much happy?”

The last part comes out as a question, and honestly Betty isn’t sure how to answer it.

“Well, baby,” she starts hesitantly, not sure where to lead this particular discussion. “Can you explain what you mean when you say ‘too much happy’?”

He snuggles closer against her chest, his forehead pressing along her jaw. “I dunno. I think...maybe I’m not supposed to be that happy? Is that why the tears came out? Because I got more happy than I’m supposed to get? Was I wrong, Mama?”

Betty breathes slowly, tightening her hold on the little boy in her arms. “You weren’t wrong, Jake. You can be as happy as you want. There’s never too much happy, I promise.”

She feels him shift, and she looks down to meet his clear, green gaze. He studies her carefully, scrutinizing her expression, and she’s reminded why she’s always been so very careful to tell her children the truth, albeit on levels they can understand.

“You pinky promise?”

The proffered pinky is smudged, pudgy, and absolutely perfect. Betty hooks her pinky finger with her son’s, bumping his nose gently with her own.

“Jakey, you have my eternal permission to be as happy as you are capable of feeling. And no one is ever allowed to take that from you. Good?” He nods, and she carefully brushes the tear tracks from his cheeks. “Sometimes feelings are really big, and they’re just a little too big for your body. They have to find a way out, and that’s why the tears come out.”

“Is that why you cry when you watch the kissy movies?” he asks, suddenly smiling. “Your feelings are too big, too?”

“Yup. We’ve got big feelings in this family, Jakey. Better get used to it, kiddo.”

...

More time passes. Dean walks, he talks, he goes through the motions. He heals a little with every conversation, every time he reaches out, and even though some of the wounds feel as fresh as the day he got them, eventually all that’s left are faint scars. He’d never willingly erase the scars, anyway. He earned them, and he’ll be damned if something like a little death and talk therapy could just wipe them away.

Gradually — so gradually Dean doesn’t realize it until Donna makes a comment one night after their regular poker game — Dean learns to not only let his guard down but drop it entirely. He’s shocked to realize the loss of his emotional armor doesn’t even bother him.

Dean works on Baby, drinks with Bobby, teaches Mary how to make an apple pie from scratch, and even manages to have a couple of honest, semi-civil conversations with his father. They don’t exactly reach Andy and Opie levels of father-son bonding, but John does eventually manage to grudgingly admit he fucked up some (a lot). Dean supposes anyone can make progress in heaven if they try hard enough.

He’s talked to everyone he can think of, settled scores, smoothed ruffles, filled himself to bursting with absolution. Dean is so absolved he thinks he might punch the next person who pats him on the back and tells him how much good he’s done for the world.

And still, he comes home every night to that extra rocking chair.

He waits now, waits while he talks with Sam, waits while he walks through the woods, waits while he changes Baby’s oil. He can’t shake the feeling that something is coming. He can feel it around himself, like a suit of armor or a second skin. Nothing terrible, nothing ominous, but something. Which is weird because nothing ever seems to happen in heaven, not really.

Could be he’s just bored, but Dean doesn’t think that’s it. Not entirely.

He talks to Jack nightly now. It’s a habit, something to help Dean talk through and untangle his thoughts into something he can understand. He looks forward to their talks, being able to get his feelings out without being either validated or rebuffed. Just letting some steam off.

He’s done it for so long that he can barely remember the night he started. Dean knows Jack can hear him, but the kid’s been true to his word, stayed hands off and radio silent. He lets mortals deal with their own issues, keeping himself and the supernatural world well away. Even the angels leave people alone in heaven.

Especially the angels, Dean grudgingly admits to himself, late one night after leaving Sam’s house. Instead of going home to that extra rocking chair, he drives Baby slowly, aimlessly, yet somehow ends up back on that same bridge where he met up Sam all those years ago.

He parks right at the end (no traffic in heaven) and strolls out to the middle, scuffing his boots and sending little puffs of dust in the air. His hands are stuffed deep in his pockets, out of habit more than anything else, and he lifts his gaze from the ground up to the full moon in the sky.

“Hey, kid,” he says softly. “Hope it’s goin good for you.Things are pretty good here. I know you know, you’re everywhere and all that,” Dean waves his hand vaguely, then continues, “Just wanted to let you know, I guess. I didn’t tell you enough, but we—I —really appreciated you. Appreciate you. You, uh...you did real good, kid. Then and now.” He pauses, then takes a breath, standing straight and letting all pretense go.“Please tell Cas...he did good, and...I miss him. And I know you’re all taking the hands-off approach, but —I dunno, maybe...he could —stop by? Or…”

The silence around Dean is heavy, comforting like a thick blanket.

Or a tan trenchcoat, he thinks.

“Jack —“

He cuts himself off, though. He spent all this time in heaven working through rivers of bullshit, wearing down mountains of lies and self-loathing until he can finally be honest and open with everyone. And if he’s going to be honest with himself tonight, Jack isn’t who he needs to talk to.

“Sorry kid, I gotta put you on hold.”

Purgatory flashes before his eyes, that sense of loss and being lost, the desperation and certainty that he’d never see his best friend again.

I can’t do this anymore, he thinks. I can’t pretend anymore. And I’m done lying to myself.

“Cas. Castiel. I hope you can hear me. I miss you. I don’t know where you are. Bobby said you were here, that you helped remake this place into something pretty damned awesome, but I never see you. I can feel you sometimes, can tell some things are up here just because you put ‘em there. Someone will tell a story, and I swear I can feel you standing right beside me, can almost hear you frowning and not understanding the joke. I…”

He knows there’s something left —knows he hasn’t found the right words yet. He has no idea what that right thing is, or even what he’s still waiting for, but he figures if he just barrels on, it’ll come to him.

“There was too much in the way, back on earth, in Purgatory. Too much always coming after us, trying to kill us or worse. I got in my own damned way, never knew what to say or how to say it. Didn’t think I deserved...I should’ve…”

He’s not sure what’s more bizarre, that he’s praying to someone who probably won’t respond — probably can’t even hear him — or that he’s doing so in a place wildly opposite from that last time he prayed like this.

Dean isn’t sure how he keeps ending up in this situation, but here he is, gasping out his feelings to the night air, barely able to squeeze the words past that perpetual knot in his throat.

“It’s a lot clearer up here, more room to breathe and think. This heaven you and Jack made...it’s great. Hell, it’s damn near perfect. But there’s no you. And I just can’t see my heaven as right without you. I can’t...I can’t take my forever if you’re not in it.”

A wispy cloud, silver in the moonlight, drifts across an otherwise flawless sky. Dean stares upwards for several minutes, wondering if Cas can see the same stars tonight, wherever he is.

“Maybe...I don’t know if you can come back. Or if you even left. I don’t know how any of it works.”

He’s on the cusp. He can almost taste the next step.

Dean’s at a loss, though. He could be brave: he could say everything he should’ve said in that last moment, everything he should have told Cas.

Or he could take the comfortable path, revert to being a dick and tell Cas exactly how he feels about all this silent treatment, about the no-show in heaven or not telling him about his deal with the Empty until it was too late, about waiting until the last second so Dean would have no time—

Or he could do both.

Both is good.

Metal railings squeak under Dean’s punishing grip. He’s not sure when he grabbed hold of the bridge itself, but right now he needs all the support he can get.

“You left me! You should have told me, given me a chance. Another chance, just one more. I’m sorry, Cas, I knew but I didn’t. I— I should’ve told you, should’ve held you, I could have—“

The tears flow unimpeded, the air squeezed from his lungs in convulsive gasps, but Dean can’t stop now.

“I should have told you everything I felt, every day. I should have trusted you more, and I’m so sorry. You were always family, you were always there for me when I needed you. We both fucked up so many times, lost so much time together. I was so angry at you, at me, at everyone and everything, and I let it get in the way.”

The silence around him is maddening. Here he is, ripping his guts out in the middle of the bridge, and all he gets back is crickets and evening breezes. Dean shoves off the railing, too frantic to stay still.

“Gimme something, Cas, anything! I’m pouring my heart out! I fucked up, and I’m sorry, and I swear I’m gonna do better, but you’ve gotta give me the chance! Just...just give me some sort of answer, please? Let me know you’re there!”

The silence persists.

Just as quickly as Dean’s rage crescendos, it fizzles suddenly. He drops to the ground, back and head slamming hard against the side of the bridge as he lets out a roar of helpless rage. His fists grip his hair, teeth grinding against the wave of helplessness that threatens to overwhelm him.

“I missed my chance, I waited too long, I should’ve said— I should have—“

And then it comes to him.

His hands draw down from his hair, scrubbing his face before steepling his fingers in front of his mouth. He can’t believe it’s taken him this long to realize.

“I’m an idiot.” His voice is barely audible, even to his own ears, but he has no doubt his words will reach their intended destination. “This place you built, you and Jack, it’s as good as it gets. I deserve it, I earned it. I got my family, I got the easy life for a while. I got my family. I had my rest. There’s only one thing left in the universe I need, only one person I want.”

Dean stands, dusting himself off and turning his face back up to the stars.

“I’m ready, Cas. I— I love you. And I’m ready for the next thing. Whatever that is. However that is. As long as—”

One last pause.

“As long as you’re there, that’s all I need.”

...

The inevitable day of separation comes: Jake’s first day of kindergarten. Samantha is proud of her guardian warrior, knows he’s going to succeed at everything he puts his little bullheaded mind to. Betty hopes very hard that he won’t be too lonely without Tabitha there with him. Tabitha only knows that Jake’s finger tastes good and makes her gums feel better when she chews on it.

Jake, as always, approaches this monumental step with aplomb and logic.

“I’ll give it a shot,” he says casually as his little sister gnaws on his thumb. “An’ if I don’t like it, I’ll just stay here and take care of Tabby. You an’ Mommy can go to work, then, ‘kay, Mama? I can make nut butter n’ jelly sammiches. But I’ll try it out.”

...

School isn’t so bad, Jake decides on his second day. His teacher Mrs. Harris seems to know what she’s doing (she already knows who she can trust with scissors and glue), and the other kids are nice enough. There’s different toys (“learning tools”, Mrs. Harris calls them), so that’s interesting enough, but—

Something is missing.

“Can you tell me what you mean, Jakey?” Betty asks at dinner that night. “Are there supplies you need? We got everything on the list.” She wipes a smear of sweet potato off Tabitha’s face before looking back to her son. His mouth is turned down in a frown of concentration, like he’s trying to remember something.

“I don’t need anything, Mama, just...someone. I need someone. My friend hasn’t come to school yet.”

“It takes time to make friends, baby,” Samantha says. “It’s only the second day of school. Have you tried asking anyone to play yet?”

“Yeah, and they’re fun and all, but they aren’t my friend. My friend isn’t here yet,” Jake says. Then his frown vanishes with the sudden mood change of a five-year-old, and he turns beseeching eyes on Betty, aiming unerringly at the softer target. “I finished my green beans. That means dessert now, right, Mama?”

Jake decides on the third day that the best place to wait for his friend (he just knows he’s going to show up any day now) is the playground.

“My friend likes the playground,” he murmurs. “That’s good, I like the playground, too.” He eats his lunch slowly, watching the other kids wolf down their food so they can have extra playtime. He’s barely finished his peanut butter and jelly sandwich, though, when he’s distracted by movement on the other side of the play yard. The door to the school opens and the school secretary steps out. Then she turns and gently pulls someone out from behind her.

A small boy stands in the doorway, white shirt tucked neatly into black slacks. His blue tie is a little loose, as if he’s been tugging on it, and his tan jacket is a little too big, hanging loosely around his small frame. His hair looks like someone was in too much of a rush to comb it properly. He clutches a pink piece of paper in one hand and, in the other, a backpack inexplicably decorated with flying, winged slices of pizza.

“Late drop-off, parent had to run,” the secretary tells Mrs. Harris before tiptoeing out of the room.

With an anxious glance at the other children, the boy scuttles forward and immediately trips over his own untied shoelaces.

Jake is at the little boy’s side before anyone else can react, kneeling down to check on him. The prone child is too shocked to cry, both by the fall and by the sudden appearance of this unknown factor. Jake checks him over, then nudges him until he sits up.

“You gotta keep ‘em double tied,” Jake says seriously. “Or else that’ll happen all the time.” Without waiting for an answer, Jake sets about the laborious task of looping each set of laces in turn, rabbits chasing each other around trees and down holes until the shoes are secure.

Jake climbs to his feet and reaches down, gripping the other boy’s shoulders and helping him stand. A dark smear of jelly stains the shoulder of the coat in the shape of a smudged purple handprint.

“Thank...thank you,” the smaller boys whispers. He lifts his eyes hesitantly, and clear blue meets olive green for the first time. “I’m Chris.”

“I’m Jake.” He thinks for a long moment, frowning. Something is settling in his chest, something big and permanent and scary; at first he thinks it’s too much.

Then he thinks back to what Mama told him: you can be as happy as you want.

He smiles at Chris. “You’re with me. You’re the one I was waiting for.”

Hope and just a bit of delight flicker across Chris’s eager face.

“I am? You mean it?”

Jake nods and grabs his new friend’s hand. “Yep. Now you’re here, that’s all I need. And nobody's allowed to take you from me, Mama said so. C’mon, let’s play cars.”

59 notes · View notes

cuddlepilefics · 4 years

Text

We can tell

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Jeongin

Caregivers: Stray Kids

No one's POV.:

Jeongin knew he could always rely on his hyungs. The were all quite protective of the youngest and would baby him at all times, despite Jeongin trying to push them away. Often times the attention became too much for him. Did they really not trust him for to things on his own? Sure, he appreciated their help when he asked for it but he was an adult too, who should be able to face most of his problems alone. It always got worse, when Jeongin was sick. In no time, the entire group would be pining over him and baby him. It always made the maknae feel guilty because he wasn't even feeling too bad but his friends would do everything for him. Want a drink? Don't move, I got it! Though he would be perfectly able to get stuff for himself, his hyungs would get it for him and he felt bad about his hyings unnecessarily going out of their way for him.

That's why at some point, Jeongin decided to not tell his hyungs when he felt unwell anymore. He'd go ask them for help or Medici ne when he knew it was getting to bad and he needed help but in the main time, he would handle himself. That was also exactly his plan when his throat started to hurt during his vocal lesson. He had probably only strained it a bit anyway. He'd make himself some tea when he got home and it should go away soon. Luckily, the vocal lesson was the last part of his schedule for the day and he could go straight home afterwards. Until his phone dinged with a message that is. Hyunjin had texted and asked if he wanted to join Changbin, Felix and him to get some ice cream. Jeongin contemplated it but decided the cold fruit wouldn’t do his throat any good and that he'd rather have some warm tea. He quickly typed and apology, feeling bad that he had to cancel on his friends. Then he header back to the dorm, happy that his workday was over.

As expected Changbin, Hyunjin and Felix weren't there when he got back. Neither were Chan and Jisung, who had texted the groupchat earlier, statong they'd stay at the studio late. Minho was probably in his room, while Seungmin stood in the kitchen. “Hey, what’s you making, hyung?”, Jeongin smiled, ingnoring the pain in that came with speaking. Seungmin continued to stir in the pit infront of him, turning to him with a smile: “I’m making some hot chocolate to drink while watching a movie. Want some too? You sound like your lesson was intense.” The maknae nodded, it was easy with Seungmin, the other vocalist had been in the same situation multiple times before. It was probably something that just came with their job. While the older finished up their drinks, Jeongin got two cups out and sat them on the counter before raiding their cupboards for marshmallows. He didn't find any so when Seungmin added some cream on top, the younger just added some colorful sprinkles. Jeongin decided to just join his friend with his movie since he didn't have much else to do and he wouldn't have to talk.

What he didn’t expect though was the fatigue that suddenly set in and with the help of the soothing warm drink, he was out before even making it to the middle of the movie. When Seungmin woke him up for dinner, Jeongin needed a second to recognize his surroundings. What he noticed first was the headache thumping behind his temples and the quilt Spread over his legs. They usually kept it over the back of the couch but it seemed like Seungmin had tucker him in after he nodded off. “Hey, the others bought home take out. We got you soup because I thought it'd be easiest on your throat”, the older explained. Jeongin scratched his head awkwardly, mumbling: “You didn’t have to go out of your way for me. My throat will be fine tomorrow.” – “Innie, I've strained my voice in lessons multiple times. We both know how much it sucks and just because it will be better tomorrow doesn’t mean we want you to suffer today. Besides, that was barely any trouble. Come on, let's eat. The others are waiting”, Seungmin smiled.

Despite his nap earlier, Jeongin felt tired and went to bed soon after dinner. His roommate Jisung didn't comment on it but he also turned his bedside lamp off and put in his headphones. The maknae was really grateful for it because his head was still hurting and he couldn't wait to get some rest. Sadly, rest didn’tcome as easy as he had hoped, instead he kept tossing and turning, frequently waking up drenched in sweat from another nightmare. Usually, the maknae wasn’t one to have nightmares and most of the times, he got them when he had a fever. Knowing this, Jeongin got up in the early morning hours and took his temperatur. Sure enough, he was running a mild fever. It wasn’t bad enough to concert him, he was just upset that he couldn’t rest properly. Especially now, that his headache had increased. Sighing to himself, Jeongin took some medicine for his headache and winced at how scratchy his throat felt. He knew he didn’t just push himself too hard the previous day, he was most definitely coming down with something. It would be okay though, he could take care of himself.

Jeongin groaned when jisung's phone blasted ‘fancy you'. Sure, he liked twice but it was way too early to blast any music at that volume. He grabbed his pillow and threw it at Jisung to get him to shut his alarm off. It took a while but eventually it stopped and the maknae almost went back to sleep. He was already drifting off again, when Chan popped his head into the room to make sure they were up, leaving Jeongin no choice but to get out of bed. He shivered as soon as the blanket was gone and decided to wear a hoodie with a t-shirt underneath. They were going to the studio for some recording today and he didn’t want to be cold there. Jisung left their room first, giving Jeongin the chance to try out his voice. He knew it hurt but he didn’t expect to sound this bad. Not even straining himself during practice ever left him this hoarse. How would he be able to hide this from his group. Sure, he'd just try not to talk but eventually he'd have to. Plus, how was he going to record? They'd know then at the latest.

The others greeted him sleepily, when Jeongin joined them for breakfast. He just gave them a smile in return, so they thought he was still tired. Chan pushed a plate in front of him and ruffled the maknae’s hair affectionately. It all went well and Jeongin remained silent throughout their meal till Hyunjin addressed him directly. When the younger just shrugged in response, he frowned: “Yah, talk to your hyung!” The youngest just lowered his head in shame before Seungmin spoke up: “Jinnie, leave him be. He strained his voice yesterday and probably wants to rest it, so he can give his best later. Right Innie?” – ‘Thanks, hyung’, he mouthed with a smile, glad that one of them understood. “Aish. Next time maybe shoot us a text as a warning. We got a bit worried when you just kept quiet”, Chan chuckled, “If you don’t feel up to recording, let us know, okay?” Jeongin nodded and continued eating. Afterwards, he went through his morning routine and applied a good amount of concealer to cover the dark circles under his eyes. He also snuck some more painkillers into his pocket to take later and found a bag of cough drops at the back of his closet, which he quickly shoved into his backpack. Maybe, just maybe, they’d fix his voice enough for him to sing later. He was absolutely dreading the moment he had to record, fearing he wouldn’t be able to but his wishful thinking motivated him to push on.

Jeongin slept through the entire drive to the studio. Initially, he had fallen with his head against the window but it looked highly uncomfortable, so his seatmate Changbin carefully moved the youngest’s head onto his shoulder. While doing so, he clearly noticed the difference between the temperature of Jeongin’s skin and his own. Making sure the maknae really was a sleep, he whispered: “Guys, Innie has a fever.” Chan immediately leaned over to feel the youngest’s forehead for himself, his face dropping when he had to realize his dongsaeng was hiding something from them. Now that it was confirmed that Jeongin was sick, Changbin refused to wake him when they arrived. Instead, he carried him up to the study and laid him down on the couch there. The members either piled onto the other couch or sat on the floor, so their dongsaeng could rest. They weren’t planning on confronting him when he woke up, they’d rather Jeongin admitted it himself, so they continued to work, recording their parts while shooting the youngest concerned glances every now and then.

It had been almost an hour, when Jeongin sat up, rubbing his eyes. He looked around confused, trying to figure out where he was. “You fell asleep in the car, so Changbin carried you to the studio. We thought some extra sleep wouldn’t hurt, since you’re not due to record until later”, Felix chuckled at the younger’s dazed look. Minho sat down on the couch next to Jeongin, a plastic cup in his hands, as he smiled: “I brought a large thermos bottle of tea, I thought it might help your throat some.” Jeongin bit his lip looking sad all of a sudden. Then he pulled his phone out and typed: ‘I really appreciate it hyung but seriously I’m fine. You wouldn’t have needed to bother doing that.’ He already felt guilty enough that Changbin had had to carry his lazy ass all the way up here, when he could have walked by himself perfectly fine. “Well, what if I wanted to?”, Minho asked and pressed the plastic cup into his dongsaeng’s hand. The youngest immediately wrapped both hands around it to warm, only noticing now how cold he felt. He gave Minho a shy and grateful smile before taking a careful sip, trying not to burn his mouth.

Minho had added a generous amount of honey and Jeongin almost sighed at how soothing it felt going down his throat. He didn’t want to admit it but he was quite happy that the dancer had gone out of his way to bring this along. Sadly, once the cup was empty, he didn’t have anything to warm him anymore and the chills were slowly starting back up. How could he possibly feel this cold, considering the layers he had put on? Pretending to go to the bathroom, the maknae snuck away to take another dose of painkillers. They were supposed to also lower his temperature, so maybe he’d feel a bit warmer if his fever went down a bit. At the same time, his hyungs knew he was lying about needing the bathroom, they were suspicious as to what he was really doing, hoping he didn’t feel sick to his stomach too, but they didn’t want to follow and pressure him too much. Should he be gone for too long, one of them would go look for him. “Is it just me or did you notice Jeongin shivering too?”, Jisung asked thoughtfully. Seungmin shook his head, stating: “Not just you, I think his fever is giving him chills.” They didn’t manage to speculate much further because right that moment, Jeongin returned.

‘Aish, what am I going to do with that little rebel? It would be so easy if he could just give in to the truth, so we could take care of him’, Chan sighed, rubbing his temples. He could still see the youngest shaking, though he tried so hard to conceal it. Then the leader had an idea. He got up and grabbed his coat, wrapping it around Jeongin’s shoulders. The he tried to muster as much of a lighthearted smile as he could and hummed: “Innie, it’s your turn soon, so you should probably start warming up. That way we can also hear how your voice is doing.” The vocalist was fast to regain his composure but the split second of horror, that flashed across his face, didn’t go unnoticed by Chan. Jeongin cleared his throat, trying to keep a straight face despite the pain, and tried to hum a little tune, they often used to warm up. Apart from him, there was complete silence in the room, everyone waiting for the moment of truth and cringing in sympathy at how raspy his usually clear voice sounded. Chan was the first to react when Jeongin suddenly broke into tears, pulling him into a hug. It wasn’t even the pain getting to him. It was his frustration about not being able to record that day and therefore holding his group back. His frustration about showing his hyungs that he wasn’t doing his best today and thereby making them worry about him.

“It hurts that bad?”, Seungmin asked in shock. Jeongin shook his head, while the oldest rubbed his back. He croaked: “I-I’m sorry, now I’m holding all of you back again. I’m just so – so f-frustrated w-with myself.” He didn’t even know why he got so worked up about it because he really wasn’t this emotional, maybe the fever got to him more than he wanted to admit. Chan clicked his tongue, leaning closer to Jeongin’s ear, and whispered softly: “Why do you always think you’re holding us back? You can just record another day. If you keep forcing yourself now, you might even damage your voice. That’s not worth it.” The younger sniffled and nodded into Chan’s neck. “Most of us are done already, so why don’t you go home with them and rest a bit? You don’t need to hang around here, especially since I’m sure, your bed is more comfortable than that couch and we wouldn’t want you cold getting worse”, the leader mused. Jeongin pulled away shocked, frowning: “How do you know?” – “Innie, we can tell when you’re sick”, Chan chuckled and helped his dongsaeng to put his coat on properly, so Minho, Felix and Seungmin could take him home. Being producers, Chan and Changbin had to stay back at the studio to finish up with Hyunjin and Jisung but they’d all join them at the dorm in another hour or two.

Jeongin had stopped crying but remained quiet on their way to the car. While settling in, Minho poured him some more tea before shoving the thermos back into his backpack. “Why didn’t you tell us you were sick, Innie? Or should I say, why did you try so hard to hide it from us?”, Minho asked hesitantly. The youngest bit his lip, selecting his words carefully: “You’re always there for me, all of you. You worry so much. I can take care of myself but y’all keep babying me and I feel guilty when you worry and do things for me that I can do myself. You don’t have to go out of your way for me and every time you do, I feel like a burden. I don’t want to be a burden. I took medicine and sucked on cough drops, went to bed early. I really did take care of myself.” When he started to get worked up again, Felix side-hugged him, causing him to shut up. “Well, it is our job as your hyungs to worry about you, there’s no way around it. You should know, as Chan said, we can tell when something’s up and if you don’t talk to us, we’ll most likely assume something a lot worse than what is actually going on. If you really want us to worry less, be honest with us, so we can see what we’re dealing with. Second, how dare you consider yourself a burden? You’re our baby and of course, we’ll always be there for you”, Minho frowned. Felix nodded and continued: “You might not understand the way we feel about you but we really love doing things for you, so please, please, please don’t feel guilty about it. For you it might seem like a bother going out of our ways but we really want to do all of that.” – “And, we don’t doubt that you can take care of yourself, probably better than half of this group. The thing is though, you don’t have to. If you really want to be more independent, that’s fine. We’ll try to hold ourselves back but just know, we’ll be there, not because we have to but because we want to”, Seungmin added. By now, Jeongin was almost tearing up again, touched by his hyungs’ words. He took a deep breath to calm himself, inhaling a faint whiff of Chan’s scent from the coat he was wearing. They really did care about him like brothers.

Already in a better mood after their talk, they made their way to the dorm, where Minho announced: “Let’s get a read on that fever and if it’s not too high, why don’t you take a nice warm bath. You’re still shivering.” They kicked off their shoes and Minho took him to the bathroom, watching as Jeongin took his temperature himself. It was moderate but not too high, so Minho started a warm bath while Jeongin went to pick out some comfortable clothes for himself. On his way back to the bathroom, he was stopped by Seungmin. “Hey, we thought it’d be fun to do a movie marathon if you feel up to it? And I wanted to ask if you’d prefer tea or hot chocolate like yesterday”, the second youngest asked. A wide smile spread on Jeongin’s face and he shyly requested: “Hot chocolate would be nice but you really don’t have to. I liked it when we watched the movie yesterday.” – “I’ll make hot chocolate for all of us, don’t worry about it”, Seungmin giggled and ruffled his only dongsaeng’s hair. Jeongin was just about to enter the bathroom with the pile of clothes in his hands when Felix came sliding on his fuzzy socks, panting: “Wait, wait, wait, I found this really cute pink bathbomb in my bag of toiletries and I want you to have it.” The maknae blushed, resembling the shade of the bathbomb itself, and thanked the Aussie before finally returning to the bathroom.

The tub was already filled and Minho told him to enjoy, before leaving to give his dongsaeng some privacy. He helped Felix set up pillows, blankets and some additional beanbags, so every member would find a spot when they returned from the studio. The living room was already smelling comfortingly sweet from the chocolate Seungmin was melting for their drinks. Maybe their dongsaeng wasn’t feeling all that awful but that didn’t mean that they didn’t want do make him as comfortable as possible and cuddle him all better. Plus, who’d say no to some quality time with their cute maknae? A group movie marathon really sounded like heaven right now and the only thing that could make it even better was the hot chocolate Seungmin prepare, decorating it with cute colorful sprinkles just like Jeongin liked it.

#stray kids #skz #sick #sickfic #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #whump #comfort #yang jeongin

43 notes · View notes

sugakookielix · 4 years

Text

Calico: Chapter 3

Summary: It has been two weeks since Mika came to live with Yoongi, and it’s time for her to finally meet his friends

Pairing: CEO Yoongi x Calico hybrid OC.

Mentioned Pairings: Hinted potential Bunny hybrid Jungkook x Calico OC (but not really, this fic is Yoongicentric only). Other implied pairings for the future.

Rating: PG

Warnings: Extremely brief mention of mistreatment/abandonment, occasional swearing

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 5.4k

Calico Masterlist

Credit for header goes to a friend. Original character used in the fic belongs to me. Do not copy, translate, or repost my work onto other sites without my permission. If you find my work has been reposted, please let me know asap.

AN: This update took forever, and I know that a lot of you were waiting for it. As an apology, I have decided to make this chapter longer than my others. For future updates, please let me know if you guys prefer the longer or shorter chapters. I also would like to note (Since some people have asked) that this series started off as a commission to a friend who then decided to hand over character rights and rights to finish the fic as she left the fandom. If you would like to commission a fic such as this one, the link to my commission info can be found in my masterlist. Now, before I continue rambling, hopefully you guys enjoy the update!

It had been just over a week now and Mika seemed to be adjusting perfectly. As promised, Yoongi had taken her shopping and let her grab anything she wanted to help her feel more at home. Not the easiest task, given she would grab anything he looked at or recommended but never anything by herself. Eventually, he had given in and stepped back so she would have no choice but to pick things on her own, replying “If that’s what you want,” whenever she showed him something. It concerned the male a bit that she was so dependent for everything, but he assumed it was a result of her previous ownership and hopefully she’d snap out of it over time. Not that he minded having her cling to him, but it would be extremely tricky to get anything done if Mika always asked his permission to do something as simple as watch TV.

Another recurring issue was the obvious separation anxiety whenever Yoongi had to leave for work. Hoseok had kept his promise and came over every morning to keep an eye on her so Yoongi could leave, but it was clear the hybrid was already attached to him. Mika would whine and cling onto him until he gave her a pat on the head and promised that he would return home before dinner. Otherwise, she had to be pulled away from him physically which caused its own set of problems. Yoongi would never admit it, but it broke his heart a bit to have to leave her while she was still adjusting, but there wasn’t much else he could do. It wasn’t like he could just not show up to work for a week or two to spend time with her, and he wasn’t confident with bringing her to the office yet given how shy she was. All he could really do was promise he would return until he determined if it would be a good idea to start bringing her to work. Hell, he hadn’t even introduced her to his friends yet.

Thankfully, it was Friday, and Yoongi could spend the weekend focused on his new hybrid instead of the new business plan he was working on. His normally organized desk was now cluttered with various documents and files, some of which he hadn’t been able to open yet. It was that time of year where the male found himself flooded with potential changes to lead the business into another successful term and it was honestly overwhelming. Partnership offers, marketing plans, managing finances, looking over reports for all of the departments; it was a lot to handle, and yet here he was forcing as much of it as he could into his shift so he didn’t have to take work home with him. Not when there was a young calico cat waiting at home that deserved his attention on his days off. Especially since weekends were the only time she was actually calm, knowing Yoongi didn’t have to go anywhere without her. Yoongi had about an hour left before he could head home, and he was determined to complete as much of this paperwork as possible, having already worked through his lunch break as well.

A knock at his door pulled the male away from his thoughts, barely looking up from the paper in his hand as he groaned out a forced, “Come in.”

“You’re still working on that?” Yoongi looked up to see none other than Kim Seokjin, dressed and proper as always. If people thought that Yoongi was always professional, they probably hadn’t seen his business manager. Jin always dressed to impress, with well-tailored suits that molded to his form, hair brushed back with not a stray in sight, and the subtle touches of makeup to hide any potential imperfections. It was a very stark contrast to the way the older male acted, and definitely a contrast with the way Yoongi looked at the moment. His jacket discarded on the back of his chair and a few strands of his hair falling out of place from the number of times he’s run his hand through them in the past few hours. Jin took one look at the younger male and sighed, pulling up a chair to the other side of Yoongi's desk. “You’ve been looking at these since this morning,” he said, skimming through some of the papers, “why don’t you take a break before you burn out?”

“I want to get as much done as possible,” Yoongi replied, “it would be nice to not take work home with me again.”

“Because of your new hybrid?” Yoongi only grunted in response, but it was all the confirmation that Jin needed. “When are we going to meet her by the way? It’s been over a week now and everyone's dying to get to know the new member of the family.” Yoongi groaned and set down the document he was holding, pinching the bridge of his nose with his other hand. He knew the question was going to pop up sooner or later but now was not the time.

“Don’t you have work you should be doing?” he asked.

“Given it’s the end of the day and you have most of the work, not really. Besides Yoongichi, you look like you could use the distraction.” Yoongi groaned again, but he knew that Jin was right. He probably wasn’t going to finish this in an hour anyway so a break was probably what he needed.

“I don’t know when you’re going to meet her,” he admitted, “she’s really shy right now and still getting used to her new home, crowding her with new faces is probably the last thing she needs.”

“Well she's going to meet us sooner or later,” Jin replied with a shrug, “what's the worst that could happen?”

“A terrified calico cat and my house getting destroyed,” Yoongi said with a deadpan tone. Jin laughed a bit at the youngers' expression before shaking his head.

“You say that as if we are barbarians, I’m sure everything will be fine,” he tried to assure, though his boss didn’t seem too convinced.

“It’s not you I’m worried about, or even Taehyung, since I know you’ll be gentle, it’s the other hybrids I’m worried about. Jungkook is hyper and practically twice her size, Jimin is physically affectionate, and when Namjoon isn’t accidentally breaking everything he can be very intimidating. Does putting them in a room together with a very anxious kitten actually sound like a good idea to you?” Perhaps Yoongi was being overprotective, but he had seen first hand how scared Mika gets by the tiniest of sounds, so her being scared by other hybrids was inevitable. Still, Jin seemed dead set on convincing him that letting them meet her was a good idea.

“Aish, you’re overreacting,” the older chided, “no ones going to pounce on her. She’ll have to meet us at some point, better sooner than later.” Yoongi sighed and shook his head.

“I’ll think about it,” that seemed to be enough to please the older, as he quickly excused himself before leaving Yoongi's office. The blonde sighed and ran his hand through his hair before looking up at the clock, it seemed that their conversation took longer than he thought as it was about time to pack up. His eyes glanced at the scattered papers on his desk before sighing, organizing them into one pile and placing them in the top drawer of his desk, already dreading having to come back to all of that work on Monday. Still, he promised himself that he wouldn’t take work home and would enjoy his weekend, so that’s what he was going to do. With a tired sigh, he stood from his chair and stretched, feeling his back pop a bit from staying in one spot for too long. Flinging his jacket over his shoulder and grabbing his things, he quickly scanned his office to make sure he wasn’t forgetting anything before stepping out, locking the door, and making his way down the hall. A few of his workers paused to bow and tell him good evening, but he only gave them a slight bow of acknowledgment in return. Yoongi wasn’t really in the mood for conversation right now, he just wanted to go home and rest.

It was silent when he finally stepped through the door of his apartment, kicking his shoes off and calling out a soft, “I’m home.” Another few seconds of silence passed before Hoseok popped out from the kitchen.

“I was getting hungry so decided to make dinner, hope you don’t mind!” he said with a soft smile. Yoongi smiled back and shook his head.

“Not at all,” he walked over to his friend before pausing and looking around again, “where’s Mika?”

“Taking a nap on the couch,” the younger replied, returning his attention to the stovetop, “she’s been out for a while though so she’ll probably wake up in a few minutes.” Yoongi hummed in acknowledgment and took a seat at the counter. He groaned softly as he rested his elbows on the counter and his head in his hands. “Rough day?” Hoseok asked without looking back.

“Just busy,” The older mumbled, hearing his friend hum in acknowledgment. Hoseok knew better than to pry on work matters, which Yoongi was grateful for. He didn’t want to talk about it, or at least the actual work part of it. The conversation with Jin replayed in his mind, and Yoongi questioned if he should bring the idea up to Hoseok. After all, he knew more about hybrids than any of them, so his advice could be useful. “I spoke with Jin-hyung today,” he said, easily grabbing the younger attention.

“Oh yeah?” Hoseok replied, “what about?”

“Mika,” when he didn’t get a reply, Yoongi took that as a sign to continue, “he said everyone's getting pretty anxious to meet her and that I should introduce them soon.” Hoseok hummed softly in thought, turning off the stove and beginning to fill three plates so they could all eat together.

“What did you tell them?” he asked after another moment.

“I said I wasn’t sure,” Yoongi lifted his head to properly face the younger, “I mean, I know they have to meet her at some point but she’s so shy that I don’t really know if it’s a good idea.”

“I’m guessing that you are asking because you want my advice? I mean, Hyung does have a point that she will have to meet them eventually if you want her to stick around, and she seems to be adjusting well to living with you. I’d say that as long as you are right there with her, and she has a place to escape if she gets scared, then it should be fine.” He didn’t even have to look at Yoongi to know the older still wasn’t convinced, shaking his head as he walked over with two of the plates, having to make a second trip for the third.

“Thanks,” Yoongi said softly, beginning to pick at some of the vegetables as Hoseok took a seat beside him.

“Why don’t you just ask Mika what she thinks?” Hoseok asked, “explain what will happen to her and let her decide when she is comfortable enough to meet them. If you do it on her terms then it will probably have a better outcome.” Yoongi shrugged softly.

“I guess,” as if on cue, he felt two small arms wrap around him from behind, a soft tuft of white and orange fur tickling his cheek as the young cat curled up against him.

“You’re home!” Mika purred, nuzzling her head against Yoongi's neck. Said male chuckled and reached to scratch at her head for a moment.

“Why hello sleepy head,” Yoongi teased, “have a nice nap?” Mika yawned softly and nodded, still half asleep. It was very obvious that she had just woken up; eyes partly closed, hair falling messily in her face, and her tail swaying lazily under the oversized sweater she was wearing. As soft and precious as always, it was a wonder Yoongi hadn’t completely melted in her presence yet. She stayed curled up against Yoongi for a bit longer before he reluctantly pulled away. He was slowly opening up to how physically affectionate she was, but it still made him feel awkward at times, especially when someone else was around. “Why don’t you sit down before dinner gets cold, I need my arms to eat after all.” Mika pouted a bit but nodded and quickly climbed into the chair next to him, not hesitating to dig into her food. Both males laughed at her before returning to their own food, the conversation between them forgotten.

Hoseok left shortly after dinner, patting Yoongi on the shoulder and giving Mika a side hug before bidding them a good night. The pair migrated to the living room shortly after, Yoongi scrolling through the tv channels while Mika distracted herself with one of her toys. The soft jingle of a bell echoed through the room, coming from the soft ball that she was pawing at and pushing around the rug, letting her cat side start to take over. Occasionally, Yoongi would glance down at her and just watch silently, thinking about what Hoseok said. Would she want to meet the others? The more he thought about it, the more it couldn’t hurt to try his luck. “Hey Kitten,” he called softly, “come here for a moment.” Mika perked up and immediately made her way over to the couch, taking a seat beside him. “How would you feel about possibly making new friends?”

“New friends?” Mika asked, cocking her head to the side and giving him a confused look. Yoongi couldn’t help but chuckle a bit as he nodded.

“I have a few close friends that would love to come and meet you. They own hybrids as well so you could have new playmates. They are a bit hyper though so I wanted to make sure you were ready before inviting them over,” he explained. Mikas' ears twitched slightly and she looked down for a moment. Yoongi frowned when he saw that, immediately thinking the worst.

“What if they don’t like me?” not the response Yoongi was expecting, though he probably should have.

“Of course they’ll like you,” he assured, “I’m sure once you get used to them they’ll love you.” Mika looked up at him to try and see if he was lying. He wasn’t, he was sure that they would like her, the issue was whether or not she would like them. After seeing that he was being honest, the hybrid softly nodded.

“Okay,” she said softly, “when are they coming over?” Yoongi felt like a weight had been lifted off of his chest, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“I’ll talk to them tonight and see, probably sometime this weekend,” he was already pulling out his phone to text Jin, knowing he would pass the news onto Taehyung for him. Mika watched him for a moment before deciding that she wanted his attention again. A soft huff left the female as she slid closer to Yoongi, gently tugging at his arm and successfully getting his attention.

“Cuddles?” she asked. Yoongi bit his lip to keep from smiling as he lifted his arm so she could snuggle up against him. Mika immediately curled into his side, resting her head on his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his waist. The male could feel her purring against him after a few seconds, shaking his head as he let his arm fall around her.

“You’re very clingy you know,” he mused. The response he got was her nuzzling her head against the crook of his neck, mumbling something he couldn’t quite hear. “What was that? I can’t hear you.” He expected her to move and repeat herself, but she made no effort to do so. Her tail brushed against his hand as she relaxed, purring continued as her eyes fluttered shut. Yoongi realized that she was falling asleep and shook his head. If he was being honest, he envied the cat hybrid for being able to fall asleep when and wherever she wanted. He was lucky to get five hours of sleep on any given day with how hectic his schedule was. Yoongi quickly finished up his text conversation and set his phone down. After a brief debate on if he should stay or wake the sleeping hybrid, he carefully wrapped his arms around Mika and stood up. It was a bit of a struggle to lift her since he wasn’t the strongest, but she was thankfully light enough for him to carry to bed without much issue. Yoongi gently set the Calico down on the mattress and placed the blankets over top of her before going and getting ready for bed himself, making sure the doors were cracked a bit so Mika could wake him easily if she needed anything.

After texting Taehyung and Jin, they all decided to come over for dinner the following evening. Hoseok had to work, but he said he would stop by for a bit if he could. Yoongi had spent the day cleaning so his place would be presentable for their guests while Mika ran around and did her own thing. He had also decided to just order takeout for everyone so he didn’t have to spend hours cooking for potentially eight people. Plus, he wanted to avoid going to the store at the moment and leaving Mika alone in the house. She still didn’t have a proper collar, only a standard black one that he doubted was comfortable given how often she picked at it. Yoongi felt bad and tried his best not to take her out in public too often until he could get her one that was of better quality. Since most higher quality collars were more expensive, many people just bought simple ones and only made their hybrid wear it in public. Money wasn’t an issue for Yoongi though, and he knew when the time was right that he would get Mika one that was special.

The sound of knocking snapped Yoongi's attention to the door, apparently catching Mikas as well since she was clinging to him in an instant, hiding behind his slightly larger frame. He knew she was nervous, but hopefully, she would calm down once she saw them. “Relax,” he muttered, reaching behind himself to pat her head softly, “everything will be fine.” That didn’t seem to help much as the calico was still clinging to his arm when he opened the door, revealing Jin and Namjoon.

“I know we’re a bit early, but I was too excited,” Jin said with a smile. Yoongi nodded and opened the door further to let them both in.

“Figured as much,” he replied, closing the door and trying to pry the scared cat from his arm. If it was physically possible, Mika had curled up even more when she saw the new guests. Not that anyone could really blame her though, since there was now a large and intimidating wolf hybrid standing a few meters away from her. As sweet and as clumsy as Namjoon was, he could be very scary upon first glance. He knew it as well since he was actively trying to distance himself from the pair while Jin tried his best to get a look at the young girl. Yoongi had already explained how she might act to them so they would know how to better act around her. At least until she got comfortable with their presence.

Jin bent down a bit so that he was eye level with Mika, waving and giving her a soft smile, “Hi, I’m Jin and this is Namjoon, it’s nice to finally meet you.” She stayed silent for a moment before Yoongi gently nudged her.

“I’m Mika,” she whispered, so quietly that even Yoongi struggled to hear her. Jin couldn’t help but coo a bit at how adorable she was.

“Aren’t you precious, don’t worry, we don’t bite,” he assured. It was easy to notice now Mika's eyes darted to Namjoon for a moment before hesitantly nodding. Still, her grip on Yoongi never loosened and he was starting to worry that she would accidentally rip his sleeve.

“Come on, let’s go sit down in the living room while we wait for everyone else,” he urged, already beginning to walk. He knew Mika would move with him and Jin and Namjoon would follow after so there was no point in waiting. It was another struggle to get Mika to let go so that he could sit down, but they eventually managed to get her to sit without trying to cling to him. Even if she was still curled up into a ball; her ears pressed against her head and her arms wrapped around her legs. Jin remained standing while Namjoon made himself comfortable in another chair. It was barely noticeable at first, but he was doing his best to remain calm so that he would be seen as approachable. With their advanced senses, hybrids could easily pick up scents that went unnoticed by their human companions. It was oftentimes how they picked up on certain emotions or detected threats. Namjoon was also still keeping his distance, wanting the cat hybrid to approach him first. This seemed to work as she relaxed after a few minutes, staring at the wolf curiously. Yoongi and Jin were so caught up in their own conversation that it shocked them when Mika finally spoke up.

“What do wolves do for fun?” she asked, causing the two humans in the room to stop and stare at her. Namjoon thought over it for a moment before looking up at her.

“Well, I can’t speak for all wolves, but I like to read in my free time. I also accompany Jin-hyung to work a lot so I’ll help him there when I can,” he said.

“Namjoon is a pup at heart,” Jin cut in, “don’t let him fool you, he’s also very playful.”

“And clumsy,” Yoongi added.

“Yah! It’s not like I try to break things, it just happens!” Namjoon whined. Yoongi rolled his eyes and chuckled a bit in response. Mika seemed to get bored with this conversation and decided to change the subject.

“Does Jin work with Yoongi?” she asked.

“I do,” the male in question replied, “he is my boss.” Mika looked up at him in awe when he said this.

“Yoongi is really the boss?” the shocked tone in her voice caused the blonde to pout.

“I told you I was the boss the day I met you,” he reminded, “did you not believe me?” Mika blinked up at him for a moment before shaking her head. Jin held a hand to his mouth as he tried not to laugh, Yoongi giving him an unamused expression. “Why exactly would I not be the boss?” he asked.

“Because normally bosses are mean and scary, and you’re too nice!” At this, both Jin and Namjoon burst out laughing, confusing Mika and annoying Yoongi.

“Yoongi? Nice? That’s a first!” Jin teased, causing the other to roll his eyes.

“Oh hush,” he groaned before turning back to his hybrid, “you know that not all bosses are mean right? Hobi is the boss at the shelter, and he isn’t mean.”

“But Hobi is fun and doesn’t wear suits to work every day,” Mika pointed out. This effectively confused Yoongi as he tried to process what exactly she was implying.

“I’m guessing she doesn’t go out much?” Namjoon asked.

“Not yet, no,” Yoongi confirmed, “Obviously I can only speak for the past two weeks, but we haven’t gone out much.” Both Jin and Namjoon nodded, knowing what he was implying and not wanting to bring up a potentially touchy subject. If Mika did realize, she probably didn’t understand properly as she spoke up again.

“I was told hybrids weren’t supposed to go out much,” she said, referring to her previous owner, “the last time I went out we went to the park and then I ended up at the shelter.” Everyone froze at what she said, not knowing what to say. Thankfully, they didn’t have to worry as another loud knock echoed through the house, followed by another series of loud knocks. Yoongi sighed softly and excused himself as he went to answer the door. The second he opened the door, he was almost knocked over from the force of two hybrids pouncing onto him.

“Hyung!” both males shouted, nuzzling against Yoongi who was still trying to regain his balance.

“We missed you,” Jungkook said.

“Yeah yeah, you literally saw me two days ago,” Yoongi muttered, “get off.” He pushed both males off of him as Taehyung stepped inside, giving his friend a huge smile.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t be excited to see you!” Jimin argued.

“Whatever,” Yoongi straightened out his sweater before closing the door, “come on, everyone else is waiting in the living room.” When they entered the room in question, everyone was in the same position they had been left in. Jin was busy laughing at something, likely another one of his awful jokes, Mika was looking at him confused, and Namjoon was trying not to laugh himself. At the sound of footsteps, both hybrids' ears twitched as they turned to the source of the sound. Namjoon waved at the group while Mika gave them all a shy smile.

“Awe,” Taehyung cooed as he dropped to his knees in front of her, “aren’t you adorable? I’m TaeTae!” Mika flinched back a bit but nodded in acknowledgment. At least this time she didn’t immediately try to cower behind Yoongi. Well, that was until Jungkook and Jimin excitedly bound over to her, quickly jumping up on the couch.

“Hi, I’m Jungkook!”

“Hi, I’m Jimin!” both hybrids spoke over each other, their energy immediately startling the smaller feline as she yelped and rolled off the couch. Within seconds, she had dashed past the group and back over to Yoongi, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her head in his shoulder while muttering something about being too loud. Yoongi sighed heavily, ‘not again.’

“Yah!” Jin scolded, “we literally just got her to stop hiding and you had to come in and scare her again!” The two in question pouted a bit and lowered their heads, Jungkooks ears flopping down a bit.

“Sorry Mika,” Taehyung apologized for them.

“They’re just excited,” Namjoon explained calmly, “don’t worry, no one's going to hurt you.” Yoongi wrapped his arms around the girl softly before whispering to her.

“They’re idiots, just ignore them and they’ll calm down eventually.”

“We can still hear you!” Jungkook exclaimed, making the other roll his eyes. Still, the laugh he got from Mika was worth it.

“Come on,” Yoongi encouraged, “we still have a few hours before dinner, why don’t we sit down and you can meet everyone properly.” He waited for confirmation from Mika before he pulled away enough to lead her back to the couch. The others would definitely tease him for being soft later, but he didn’t care.

After a few hours, everyone calmed down enough and Mika actually felt comfortable being around the group. She was still a bit on edge and didn’t engage in conversation very much, but she did occasionally speak up or ask questions. Hoseok had decided to drop by as well which helped a lot, helping push Mika to interact more and not be shy. At one point, she had even allowed Taehyung to pet her, nuzzling into his hand a bit as he ran his fingers through her multicolored hair. They had all just finished dinner and were now winding down to watch a movie and relax before calling it a night. Yoongi, Jin, and Taehyung were tidying up in the kitchen, while the hybrids and Hoseok were playing in the living room. It was really just Jungkook and Jimin though since Mika was too shy to move and Namjoon knew better than to try and wrestle the younger boys.

Mika was on the floor with one of her bells, tossing it around softly as the others did their own thing. Jungkook and Jimin were play fighting a little bit away, having already failed at trying to throw the bell with her. Hoseok was leaning on the back of the couch as he watched, about to say something when he heard his name being called from the kitchen.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, “try not to break anything while I am gone.” He heard a mutual hum of acknowledgment as he walked away, leaving the hybrids alone. Jungkook watched for a moment to make sure he was gone before making his way over to Mika with a smirk. Of course, she noticed, looking up at him with a questioning glance.

“Can I see the bell?” he asked, causing the felines' expression to shift.

“No,” Jungkook pouted a bit, trying to reach for the toy as Mika pulled it back.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s mine and I don’t want to give it to you.”

“That’s mean, I just want to see it.” Mika huffed and held her hand out to show off the bell.

“There, now you see it,” she said with a smirk of her own. Jungkook glanced at her before chuckling. Moving faster than she could react, he snatched the item from her hand and darted back to Jimin on the other side of the room. Mika blinked in shock for a few moments before realizing what just happened, “Hey! That’s not fair!”

“Not my fault you weren’t quick enough,” Jungkook teased, laughing a bit as Mika glared at him, “if you want it so badly, why don’t you come get it?” The catgirl hissed for a moment before crawling over and trying to grab the toy from Jungkook, who only held it higher in response. “Really Jungkook?” she was clearly unamused by whatever game the bunny was trying to play.

“Jungkook-” Jimin tried to interject but the younger only shook his head at him.

“I already told you, if you want it then take it,” he pushed, dangling the toy over Mikas' head. She tried to grab for it again, only for him to pull it away at the last second, causing her to groan. Her tail began to sway behind her as she backed away slightly, ears pressing back against her head. Jimin, who realized what was happening, quickly tried to interject and grab the bell back, only for Jungkook to push him away as well, glancing at him and mouthing ‘Trust me.’ Namjoon had also picked up on what was going on and began to get involved as well.

“Jungkook…” before he could get his full warning out, Mika had pounced onto the bunny hybrid, successfully knocking him back. Jungkook gasped as the wind was knocked out of him, but regained himself before she could grab the bell out of his hands, tossing the item to the side as he flipped their position so he was the one pinning her down. The commotion immediately alerted the attention of those in the kitchen who immediately ran out. Yoongi and Taehyung panicked and immediately tried to run over and break the two up. They were stopped however by Hoseok holding his arm out in front of them.

“The hell Hoseok?” Yoongi hissed, to which the younger shushed him.

“Relax and watch,” Hoseok whispered back. Yoongi huffed but did as he was told, biting at his nail to calm himself down. Sure enough, Mika quickly regained herself and managed to push Jungkook off of her, dashing after the bell once she was free. The bunny was still quicker though and beat her to it, hitting the toy away so they were both chasing after it. After a minute, the sound of laughter filled the room as both hybrids wrestled and chased after the small object, Jimin getting involved shortly after. Both owners immediately relaxed when they noticed this, Hoseok smiling at them proudly. “See, they’re just playing! Nothing to be worried about.” Yoongi couldn’t help but smile at the sight in front of him, happy that they seemed to get along.

“Looks like we’ll be over for playdates a lot more,” Taehyung whispered.

Yoongi's smile widened as he nodded, “Looks like it.”

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