#this has been sitting in my drafts bc I wasn’t sure if it was too grim but like hey whatever it’s me trying to engage with the canon | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nathanbatemanfucker · 9 months ago

Text

The Dead Horse

summary: santi brings you back to reality.

pairing: fem!black!reader x santi garcia

contents: angst & fluff— happy ending, canon typical violence, blood, gore, ptsd, depression, feelings of hopelessness, friends to lovers, kissing

wc: 2,419

an: this has been sitting in my drafts for a while now bc of nerves, but always wanted to write Santi with a black love interest. planning to dip my toe into that pool more in the future 🥰

oscar issac characters masterlist

You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting here like this. It could be minutes, hours, even days. In these four walls beneath the shower’s spray, there is nothing that matters. Not even you, not anymore. And while you’re usually the first to be cheery, to tell each of the guys that the work they do— the work you all do together— doesn’t compromise the goodness you see in their hearts, you’re having a hard time believing that right now.

Not with what you’d done. It was to survive, and while you’ve come to terms with how scary you could be in the past you thought it stayed there.

In the past.

Tonight had proven to you that you could always access that piece of you. That terrifying piece that was a killing machine. The emphasis doesn’t lie in efficiency, but in ruthlessness. You had shown no mercy, the switch for empathy and compassion turned off as soon as your hindbrain decided that it was fight or flight. Dormantly thirsty, lurking in the shadows waiting for its time, it chose to fight. But you had gone a step too far—like always— because of your lack of control.

You were messy, enjoying the cutting of thick flesh, the warmth of the blood as it sprayed you. The copper smell, so familiar and embarrassingly comforting, though you didn’t have the mind to think that now, not when you were exposing the pink underbelly of a corpse.

Santi’s been pacing the hallway since you all made it back to the safe house. He’d tried to chat you up on the way home with no success. You wouldn’t meet his eye, and when he drew nearer to catch your gaze it was empty. It chilled his blood. He wasn’t sure of what exactly happened in that room you’d gotten ambushed in but he’d seen the aftermath. Recalling the image of standing over one too many dead bodies, a gleam in your eye had made his stomach curl. He’d smoothed his hand over your knee and left it at that, trying his best to banish all the red and pink and white.

It’s been an hour since you’d stumbled into the bathroom. He can hear the shower still going when he puts his ear to the door and sighs, a mix of frustrated and concerned. He’s not sure what to do– he’s never had to take care of you before. He’s always been grateful for that given all the fondness he has for you bubbling just beneath. Any acknowledgement could jeopardize too much– missions, the dynamic of the team, and most importantly your friendship.

“You alright in there?” He calls softly through the door.

He’s met with silence. He rolls his neck, cursing beneath his breath as his mind goes back and forth, trying to decide what to do.

“Just go in there and check on her,” Frankie says from behind him, causing the other man to flinch. “Didn’t mean to scare you. You alright?”

“I’m fine,” Santi assures Frankie, leaning against the wall to face the man. He nods at the door. “She could be naked.”

Frankie snorts, shrugging. “She’s seen all of us at least half naked and well, Benny—“

Santi quickly cuts him off, trying to keep the sour jealousy out of his voice. He knows that there’s nothing going on between you and Benny, that Benny is as much of a flirt as he is but sillier and less concerned with his image. “But we haven’t seen her. I don’t— I’m a dog but I’m a respectful one.”

“If she’s gonna get help from anybody on this it’d be you. She trusts you man.”

Santi looks at him like he’s grown two heads but feels a little warm, “She trusts all of us, kind of a prerequisite of living and working with a group of men.”

“It's different with you. You should hear the way she talks about you when you’re not around.”

Santi almost lets himself think about it. Almost lets himself dream a little. Almost.

“Or see the way she looks at you when you’re not looking. Like a lost fucking puppy,” Benny pipes in, breezing down through the hallway between the two of them.

“Don’t sound so concerned, Benjamin,” Santi calls after the man, mouth quirking into a grin.

“Don’t look so smug, Santiago,” Frankie teases.

“I’m not smug,” He denies. He decides to go in, okay with being kicked out by you if it means that Frankie will be gone, done poking and prodding at what the man must know is his heart.

“Good luck.”

Santi murmurs a quiet thanks before slowly entering the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He stands, frozen in place for several moments as he digests the sight of you. It's heartbreaking. His chest goes tight, and he curses softly again. What could he do for you? He’d do anything, but he’s just not sure what. He feels helpless seeing you like this. He could burn this entire city, burn anyone who would look at you wrong. Hell, he’d burn the entire world if it meant some warmth would come back into your eyes.

You’re curled up, your arms resting atop your knees, head resting to stare forward. Your curly hair that usually frames your face is completely soaked like the rest of you, flat and sticking to your face in various places. He knows that your eyes are unseeing, that you’re so incredibly removed from yourself because you make no indication that he’s stepped into the room.

“I’m gonna come sit beside you, okay? That’s it. No words,” Despite his words he stays where he is for a handful of seconds, hoping to get some sort of answer from you. You don’t speak a word, don’t utter or sound or so much as look in his direction. But you do shift slowly, making more room for him underneath the water.

“Fuck, it’s freezing,” He grits out, drawing close enough to you that your shoulders rest flush against each other.

He gazes over at you, noticing the way the water glimmers on your brown skin. The way its collected on your dark eyelashes. If these were different circumstances maybe for just a handful of seconds he’d let himself get lost in your beauty. But then you acknowledge him– sort of. You hum softly and the leaning of your head on his shoulder. It's a good sign and he relaxes beside you.

“Do you want me to shut it off?” He asks gently, reaching out to take your hands into his. Your fingers are cold as ice, and he rubs at them in a futile attempt to generate some heat.

“No, please. No,” You beg hoarsely, suddenly springing to life. You grip at his hands desperately, eyes wide with panic as you finally meet his gaze.

“Alright, hush, cariño, I’ve got you. C’mere, baby,” He shushes you, pulling you into his arms and flush against him.

At little more present in the moment, you feel the chill registering. You curl up, tucking your face into the crook of his neck. There’s still some warmth in his skin and you press into it, letting the sound of his steady breath lull you back into a dissociative state.

Santi holds you for an undetermined amount of time. He runs his hands up your back, over the crown of your hair, feeling the difference of how your curls feel when wet. His hand drifts to your chin, and he leans away, tipping your head up.

“Honey, you’ve gotta talk to me,” He whispers.

Your dark eyes have a little more life to them, but that’s only amplified the sadness they hold. “Santi, I can’t. I can’t. Don’t make me, please.��

“I have to, you can’t stay like this. We’ve got to get it out in the open.”

“Like you do?” You challenge– your voice distinctly unkind, harder than he’s ever heard it before. His brow furrows and guilt blossoms inside of you. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have. This just fucking sucks, Santiago. Its all wrong again.”

“Tell me what’s wrong and we’ll fix it.”

“There’s no way we can fix it. I’m just broken. I’ll always be haunted by her. She’ll always be here, waiting for an opportunity for that.”

“You preach that shit to me and the guys. Day in and day out. Every mission, and you don’t believe it?”

“I do— I did. I believe it for you. For them. You’re good people, Santi. Good men, all of you. You take care of me.”

“You take care of us, honey. Fish hangs on your every word. Will too. Benny is well— Benjamin.”

“And you?”

He shrugs, “You know I gave into this a long time ago. Before we even met. No other way for me to be.”

“Do you believe me?”

“I try to. I want to. There are parts of me too that I don’t like. I want them gone. I rip them up and bury them but they always come back to haunt me. I don’t think that means I’m not trying to be better, but it means I’ll never be the man I want to be.”

You frown at him, concerned, “Santi—“

“It’s okay. I accepted that after the first tour. Sometimes you gotta let the horse be dead.”

“Do you think my horse is dead?”

There’s no room for his ego, no room for hiding when he hears the blatant fear in your question.

He rests his head back against the wall, murmuring, “I think you’re the sweetest thing this earth has to offer.”

“You think so?”

“Bouncing around with your curls, and your sweet little smile. Kicking Benny’s ass with grace while you’ve got a cake in the oven. You should see yourself with Frankie’s little girl.”

“Seems like you watch me a lot,” You suggest softly.

“I watch you all the time,” He admits, but there’s no shame in his voice. In fact you can see resolve in his eyes, and possessiveness. A chill runs down your spine and it’s not from the water. Santi mistakes it for that anyway. “Let me turn this off for us?”

He’s still asking. Still checking in with you though there’s much more light in your eyes.

“Yeah, okay.”

Santi leans up and turns off the shower, letting out a sigh of relief. He runs his hands over your wet curls, pushing them away from your forehead. His thumbs swipe your cold cheeks, brushing away some of the water droplets.

Without that steady sound of the shower, sheets cascading down on you, you both are feeling a little more exposed.

“I came in here to make sure you were alright, not spill my fucking guts. I just had to take care of you,” He says, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant.

“You can always take it back,” You say teasingly, though most of you expect him to bite at your offer.

He’s said much more in these last few minutes than he ever has to you— Santi’s a sweet guy under all his charm, but he never lets you see below the surface. Not until now, when letting you in seemed like the only way to get you out.

It takes more effort than he expects to pull himself away from you. He leans back against the shower wall, nimble fingers lacing together in his lap. “And lose you?”

“You could never lose me, Santi,” You murmur, reaching out to grab one of his hands.

Your eyes roam him, a little in disbelief at what’s happening right now. But yes, it is Santiago Garcia sitting next to you. With his dark brown eyes, his sharp jaw dappled with stubble, his salt and pepper hair looking much darker and curlier than usual due to the water.

“Yeah?” Santi asks, eyes glued to where yours sits atop his. He traces slowly over the sight of you two linked together, admiring how soft and rich your skin looks even after sitting in a shower for so long.

He’s a goner isn’t he?

“Yeah.”

There are butterflies in his stomach. Butterflies, sweat slicking his palms despite the fact that he’s soaked through his clothes and down to the bone. He realizes in this moment that he’s not just a goner. No— he loves you. He knew that he was harboring some kind of feelings for you, but when your eyes meet his— earnest and tender— he can only think one thing: I love you.

His eyes hungrily drop to your full mouth, and another shiver runs down your spine. “Let me kiss you.”

You nod, squeezing his hand that’s still in yours.

“I need to hear you say it. You have to say it for me, so I can believe it.”

“I want you to kiss me, Santiago. Please.”

He’s on you then. All over you. His hands move quickly, guiding you back into his lap before one loops around your torso and holds you close. The other cups your jaw, angling it back so that he can press his mouth to yours. You’re breathless before the space between you is closed, chest heaving at how sure and firm his hands are. He kisses you. Kisses and kisses you, like his life depends on it. Like you’re lost and the only thing that will guide you home is his insistent tongue.

Your hands slip and slide against the fabric of his wet shirt before you give up, raising them to tentatively cup his face so that you can have leverage.

“That’s it honey, kiss me back. Take what you want to. Whatever you need,” He encourages between kisses.

Take you do. You squirm in his lap until he lets you shift and straddle him. It had started with him leading you, consuming you but now it’s your turn to surround him. Santi gives in, sighing into your mouth as your tongue goes on the hunt for his. You kiss him. Kiss him and kiss him until your mouth aches. When you pull away his is flushed pink, newly wet. You run your thumb over his lips before wiping your own mouth.

He looks up at you like hang the moon. His eyes are soft and hazy, pink mouth pulling up into a smirk. There’s the Santi you know. The Santi you love. But even now, he’s softer and sweeter, gathering you close again.

“What do you need now, sweetheart? What can I do to make it better?”

“You.”

“I’m yours.”

santi taglist: @jitterbugs927, @theconsultingdoctor10, @tanzthompson, @clairevoyanceee, @moonmalice, @tiffanypooh, @dearvirtualdiary-blog1, @marc-spectorr, @xbellaxcarolinax, @toracainz, @mccn-bcys, @missdictatorme, @whatthefishh

#santi garcia x reader #santi garcia x black!reader #santi garcia x fem!black!reader #santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia x black!reader #santiago garcia x fem!black!reader #santi garcia #black!reader #santi garcia fanfiction #santiago garcia fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #arson writes

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matthyeu · 1 year ago

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tim hortons ― smt.

pairing ⇢ seok matthew x gn!reader

genre ⇢ comedy, fluff

warnings ⇢ this was just self-indulgence as you will see </3, mentions of a car crash but nothing happened lol

word count ⇢ 1377

synopsis ⇢ this is how matthew's life would be if he didn't get 3rd place on boy's planet. hey, at least he met you.

notes ⇢ HEYYY GUESS WHOS BACK,,, well not really i’m just like popping back in after the comeback bc like WOWWW but hi i’ve been really stressed back in school doing a lot of exams and applications for nursing school. i just finished my teas and like the semester’s almost over so i’m so STRESSED AAAAAA and this has been in my drafts for so long bc yk i’m just manifesting myself getting into nursing school but i will def try to get more uploaded soon but i’m always tired from work and school eueueu got some drafts tho so i’m hoping to get that done soon. take care!!

perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to get an early start to studying for your pharmacology exam. not, it definitely wasn’t the best idea. every professor had always told you to review and study more than you thought you needed, so you tried your best to do just that. it was just that one confused topic led to another…and then to another until you realized it was nearing two.

late nights were no stranger for a nursing student, but they were not recommended if you had plans for the morning after, especially if the morning after was your weekly 12-hour long clinical rotation.

that was how you ended up with two and a half hours of sleep, a frantically thrown together lunch, missing materials, and a need for caffeine after you overslept your alarm by twenty minutes. you cursed your ability to sleep through alarms but also thanked yourself for setting alarms every five minutes in case this ever happened.

the facility you were stationed at was a little over an hour from your apartment, so you would barely make it in time. there was realistically no time for you to stop by for coffee. usually, you would just make your own, but your unfortunate luck continued to prosper as you had forgotten to purchase more instant coffee in your last grocery run. however, seeing as how you nearly fell asleep behind the wheel the first ten minutes of your drive, you knew you needed it. if you died in a car crash, there was definitely no chance for you to make it to your clinical on time.

you pulled into the parking lot at the tim hortons nearest to your apartment, seeing only one other car there who you assumed belonged to whatever employee was on opening duty. it was only 4:43. this location opened at 5. if you waited for it to open, you would definitely be late. even if you had just told yourself it was alright to be late, you were sure your instructor would not be pleased if you were, especially since this was an obstacle you could potentially get over.

reluctantly, you shuffled your feet to the entrance, not worrying if you would wear the soles of your white shoes quicker than they were supposed to last. you didn’t want to bother the poor worker, but it was your only choice besides sitting in your car waiting for 17 minutes, which was definitely not practical.

reaching the entrance, you peered in to see a young man diligently preparing for the day. you figured he would be far too busy to notice you (or it was just your excuse to walk back to your car and wait). still, mustered up the courage to wave at him from outside, refraining from knocking on the glass.

by some dumb luck, he noticed you and came to the door from around the counter. he gave an apologetic smile as he opened the door, popping his head out. “sorry, we aren’t open yet.”

“actually, i was wondering if you could make an exception. i have to be at the hospital in an hour and it’s an hour drive from here,” you explained as you fidgeted with your watch.

“oh definitely i can do that for you. that hospital must need you as soon as you can get there,” he commented as he opened the door wider for you to come in.

“oh no, they do not need me. yesterday i put on my sterile gloves wrong 4 times because of nervousness. if anything, they hope i’m not there,” you casually blurted out, which caused the employee to give you a concerned look. “i’m a nursing student, not a licensed healthcare provider. everyone always thinks of nurse or doctor when they see someone in scrubs, but i’m just a stressed person in college trying to get through.”

“ah, makes sense. i thought you looked young to be finished with school already, but i didn’t want to say anything in case it was offensive,” he commented once you both were at the register, “what can i get for you?”

“just a medium iced latte please,” you ordered as you dug through your wallet for the right card.

“go ahead and insert your card whenever you’re ready.”

and you did just that, receiving the receipt from the employee once the transaction was over. “it will be out shortly.”

there wasn’t much for you to do but stand off to the side as you watched him work. as time went by, there was something familiar about him you couldn’t catch. it was as if you had seen him from somewhere, but the only places you really frequented were the library and hospitals. was it from tv?

“here you go,” he announced as he slid the cup over the counter.

as he was about to head back to finishing his preparations, you took a sip of your latte. with the newfound courage taken over you by the caffeine, your thoughts spilled out of your mouth. “do i know you from somewhere?”

he chucked. “no, i don’t think you have. if so, it was a long time ago since i just got back to canada.”

“you have a celebrity lookalike or something? i swear i’ve seen your face somewhere before,” you asked.

“ever heard of boys planet?”

then it hit you. you looked at his nametag. matthew. of course, he was the canadian from that korean reality show one of your friends had shown you. in fact, she begged for you to help her vote, and she was devastated when her one-pick didn’t make the group. and here he was, standing in front of you at tim hortons.

“ohhh that makes a lot of sense. my friend had me voting every day for you when the show was airing. interesting seeing you working here. totally thought you’d continue trying to be an idol if you didn’t make the lineup.”

“i missed home too much, i guess. i had it planned out during the finale too, the part time job i’d get if i didn’t make it. didn’t think i’d actually end up at timmies, but alas, things happen. thanks for your support though.”

“don’t thank me,” you insisted, “i’m just an unsuspecting victim to desperate fans who wanted the best for their faves.”

“i think that’s the best feeling though, meeting someone who doesn’t really care about what you’ve done or who you are. you’re the first person who’s actually recognized me, and i’m glad it’s not someone who would leak this information. though, i’m sure it will spread eventually.”

you finally noticed what he was doing throughout the conversation: packaging a 10-count box of timbits. “here,” he called as he pushed yet another item over the counter, “on the house.”

shaking your head, you quickly responded, “no i can’t.”

“trust me, you’re going to need the boost of energy from the sugar for your shift. just take it, or else you’ll be late.”

“oh shit,” you cursed, realizing you had spent too much time in the shop already, “fine, but i’ll be back and next time, i’m going to buy something for you to enjoy.”

“mhm good luck!”

you ran back to your car, relieved you decided to come in when you did when you saw a plethora of cars pulling in with two minutes until opening. the coffee was placed into the cupholder and the box onto your passenger seat.

before beginning your long drive to your impending doom, you decided to have one of the timbits matthew had given you. that was when you noticed the small message written on the top of the box.

good luck! you’re doing great things for the world :) come back anytime! i always open on fridays and will take you after 4:30.

you smiled at the little note, popping one of the pieces into your mouth. it tasted way better than timbit you had ever had. you weren’t sure if that was just because they were fresh in the morning or the care you knew was packed into them. needless to say, you would wake up a little earlier on your fridays to go back to this location to see matthew.

#🐨 ― matthyeu #zerobaseone #zb1 #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone x reader #zerobaseone imagines #zb1 scenarios #zb1 drabbles #seok matthew #zb1 matthew #seok matthew x reader #zb1 matthew x reader #seok matthew imagines #seok matthew one-shot #comedy #fluff

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behoright · 2 years ago

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long distance friendship with andrei svechnikov

uhhhh here's a little blurb! yall can thank @ryanpulock for this. it was just too much and needed to be shared soooorry it's so long.

warnings: haven't really proofread this I freaked out the whole time. fluffy fluffy fluffy a tiny bit of angst.

◌ ◯ ✽◌ ◯ ✽

you met when you’re both teenagers when he began playing for the lumberjacks

he obv had a crush on you but he couldn’t really speak english

you were always around the rink and at practice and stuff bc of a family member of yours so he saw you a lot

saw you do homework and stuff at the rink and he would try and talk to you or see if you could help him with english

you helped him A LOT bc you’d be one of the last ones there and so was he so you’d hang out a lot

but you were only teenagers and you had your own lil life at your high school and stuff

eventually he went to the OHL and it was heartbreaking for the both of you tbh

he had never been more excited to move up but the second thought he had was that he wasn’t going to see you everyday anymore

same with you but you both played it off

the last night before he leaves you hang out until late and he promises you he won’t forget or stop talking to you

“even when you make it to the nhl and become a big shot?”

“never, y/n”

sdjkfhkdjvh

and so it begins

the constant constant texting

silly snapchats and you send each other memes on instagram

he’s too shy to ask you to facetime so he doesn’t

until draft day

dude one of the best days of his life

and on top of that - he gets a facetime call from YOU

he makes sure his hair looks good before he answers djfksljf

you were afraid that now he would forget about you but as soon as he gets to raleigh you become even closer

he never fails to send you good morning texts and snapchats

he never sends good nights tho and thats because he never wants to stop talking to you

he’d rather tell you “i fell asleep lol” instead of saying goodbye

facetime becomes the norm on his second season w the canes

it ebbs and flows when you get a boyfriend

and tbh he says hes happy for you but hes not

and he doesn't understand why because he hasn’t seen you since you were 17 and you both had a silly teenage crush

also he has every single girl available and sometimes he’d tell you about it to see if you get jealous but you don’t seem to (even though you do)

he knows he has to find another way to distract himself now that you have a boyfriend you can’t facetime him as much

gets a girlfriend

but things turn sour faster than he expected

if you’re having any relationship problems you always tell him and so he does too

it doesn’t get very far tho because the only advice you both have for each other is

“break up with him”

“break up with her”

and you’re both too stupid to see what’s really going on but the distance doesn’t help

you finally decide to see each other during the summer and you meet each other’s significant others and

oh boy

she HATES your guts and she’s so condescending

“oH mY gOd iS thIs yOuR bEsTiE bAbE? OH yOu’Re sOOOOO cUTe!”

ugh

same with him

andrei is surrounded by toxic relationships and unfortunately toxic masculinity so he sees right through your boyfriend

he tells you after

“I don’t trust him, y/n”

you don’t know but its the beginning of the end for both of your relationships

after that, you both spend a week of his summer together before he goes to train in russian and its

so fun

except for the fact that your horrible partners are both always there so you both feel like you can’t relax bc they’d get insecure

at the end of the summer he breaks up with her bc he seriously cannot shake off how she treated you and also bc she was just not it

and surprise surprise your boyfriend cheats on you during the fall

you call him in hysterics crying sobbing

youve been friends for a long time and know each other very well but he’s actually never seen you cry

he just sits and listens to you talk and vent makes sure you feel really validated

you stay on facetime for a long long time that night even if he has a game tomorrow

and the day after he calls you while he’s driving to the arena

you’re in bed with your blinds shut even though its 3 pm

“I going to score for you tonight, you’ll see. Trust me.”

and score he does

he tries to find the camera as soon as he scores and everyone including his teammates are like ???

but he winks at it and points at it

you know its for you

calls you AS SOON AS THE GAME IS OVER

“you see? I told you! I told you I’d do it for you!”

and thats when you realize you really like this man

you call and text even more somehow

facetime all the time

the season has its highs and lows and

on most roadies he can’t wait to just get to his hotel room to talk to you

he tells you whenever he’s taking off or landing

you’ll send him snaps of you watching the game whether alone or with your friends

you literally never miss one

you share locations at some point and he will never say it but he checks on you all the time

breaks his heart a little when he sees you’re over at someone’s house

same with you wherever he’s at a club or something but oh well

you’re just friends and have to live your lives

but still no one takes up as much time as you do

even if its for 5-10 minutes he’d facetime you

your roommate thinks its fucking annoying that you stay up so late just talking

and what a cute texter he is

“good luck on your test!”

“i saw this and i thought of you”

sdkjfhksjfhskdjchksd

he ships one of his jerseys to your dorm

anytime there’s a limited edition piece of merch he’ll always send you one

on your birthday he sends you matching beaded bRACELETS

and you see he always always wears it

theres a point where the season gets freaking hard and andrei is so frustrated

you answer the phone but it looks like it’s just been placed on the nightstand

“Drei?”

“hi, y/n”

and his voice is all choked up and sniffly

“I want to talk to you but I’m just. I’m so tired and I can’t take it today. I’m sorry” and there’s a little sob in there

you reassure him and eventually he opens up

even though he can’t show his face because he’s embarrassed and he doesn’t want you to see him like this

“to be honest, it’s so lonely. I feel alone in the room at the end of the day and I feel guilty because this is my dream.”

you talk him through what he’s feeling and how to feel better

he grabs the phone and you see his face all red and puffy. you can tell he was crying really hard before he called you

“I’m sorry I look so bad” he says as he rubs his eyes and his face HELLA HARD bc he’s a boy

“You look great, svech”

And his heart melts oh it melts so hard

You don’t tell him but you saved up enough to fly out and one day you just show up at practice

Thankfully he was too busy to check your location lol

He’s ELATED

literally drops his stick and gloves and just skates towards you so fast

“Oh so this is who you’re texting all the time”

You spend the weekend together

He cancels your hotel stay so you can stay with him

He loves to have you around and debates kissing you when you go out with the team

But he’s too nervy so he doesn’t

When he drops you off at the airport he tears up a bit and hugs you for a long long time

“I going to miss you, that’s all”

“I love you”

Calls you after you’re past security lol

He tells you he wants you to come out every weekend

And you both laugh but he’s low key serious

Ever since you went to visit him last you both say I love you ALL the time

Whenever they play in your city he comes and visit you

He accidentally stays in your dorm once you guys cuddle and fall asleep talking

No matter the distance you become closer and closer

See each other for the holidays :)

Still no one is making any moves even though you are VERY touchy

And tbh neither of you seeing anyone else bc you’re both so busy w your jobs/college

It’s so easy to talk to each other bc it’s all online

No one uses snap anymore so he’d just send you selfies 😭😭

Sometimes when he’s reviewing video he’d FaceTime you to just have you there

Same whenever you’re just doing homework

There’s been times that he’s at the rink late and you’re doing school work late and he just props his phone up while you both do your thing even though he’s ON THE ICE

Keeps his AirPods in so he can hear you talk to him

You have movie nights together and do screen sharing

You decide to surprise him bc you have some

Big news

And he’s been in a HUGE scoring drought

You know it’s taking a toll on him bc he literally tells you everything

Every SINGLE thing

You surprise him when he’s doing morning workout w the team

They let you in because everyone knows you now he doesn’t shut up about you shows them pics of you always on the phone

And he’s SWEATY but he runs to you and picks you up in a big bear hug spins you around

He’s so so happy he really needed this especially after you guys talked SO much during the dads trip (since his dad couldn’t make it and all)

He keeps looking for you in the stands and during warm up just keeps skating past you and tapping the glass and puts his face up to it and shfhfjxbdchfjbfdn

he gets out of his scoring drought SO quickly in the 1st

Scores twice, is on hatty watch, has the best game ever

Whenever he’s on the bench he thinks about how he got his mojo back literally the day you got to Raleigh

Like this has to do with you

*superstition unlocked*

Gets first star and skates up to you to bang on the glass before throwing the puck to some kids next to you

Mouths “go to the locker room” before skating to Hannah

When you go see him he’s all sweaty and gross and shirtless, his hockey pants still on and all

“You did so good! You did amazing, Andrei!”

He runs and hugs you so tightly into his chest

whispers into your hair

“because of you. It happened because of you.”

before giving you the game puck

What he doesn’t know yet is that you came to visit to tell him that you got into an internship in Raleigh and will be moving there in a couple of months 👀👀

#andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov imagine #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov blurb #blurb #fluff #carolina hurricanes #canes #nhl #nhl fic #nhl blurb #hockey #hockey blurb #hockey imagine

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risingscorchingsuns · 8 months ago

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wow im trying to write A Fic!!! look at me and my writing motivation!!! this is a first draft bc i spat it out and then passed the fuck out so bear with me pls lol

———————————————————————

Irreplaceable

hi guys it’s 2:30am and im going Thru It so as normal im coping by projecting onto hikaru. sorry buddy. at least you have kyojuro 👍

content: SFW, mentions of gender dysphoria and mild transphobia, fluff/comfort

———————————————————————

It’s a warm summer evening, and twilight has settled like a thin veil over the headquarters of the Demon Slayer Corps. A gentle breeze blows through the nearby woods, lending a pleasant coolness to the darkening sky. Fireflies flicker in the dim light, blinking like tiny ghosts of little stars.

Kyojuro Rengoku was out wrapping up a patrol, as normal. The man was nothing if not diligent- something he prides himself on. His shoes pad against the soft forest floor as he strode purposefully back to headquarters, hand on his sword and head held high. Kyojuro normally holds himself with pride and purpose, but tonight especially so. See, tonight wasn’t just any night. Tonight, Kyojuro had a date.

He’d been looking forward to it all week. Kyojuro doesn’t get many chances to spend quality time with his lover, Hikaru Eritora, as they had to be together in secret. There was simply too much in the way for them to be open about their relationship- Kyojuro was a Hashira, which meant he was held to a specific social standard by those around him. He was expected to remain professional, and risked being accused of favoritism if he was caught paying Hikaru any special attention. Hikaru himself was only rank Tsuchinoe, and if it got out that he was seeing a Hashira, it could get messy for the both of them. So, for now, they had to make do with stolen moments, secret and hidden away from prying eyes.

As far as Kyojuro was concerned, that was fine with him. He knew that someday, he’d shout his affection to the rooftops, and the whole world would know of their love. But for now, he was perfectly content for mere minutes around his lover. Just knowing that Hikaru was his… that was enough.

Kyojuro shook himself briefly, as though snapping himself out of a daydream. He blinks a few times, and chuckles softly to himself. “You’ve got me lost in my own head, Karu,” he murmured to the empty evening air. “I’m on my way.”

With that, he picks up his pace, trotting off towards the Butterfly Mansion, where Hikaru resides. When he arrives, he pushes open the large, ornate door, and quickly navigates his way through the vast estate in search of his partner, avoiding any prying eyes. Reaching the door to his room, Kyojuro knocks three times- the signal that it was him. But to his surprise, there was no answer.

That was odd. Kyojuro was sure Hikaru was home. It was their agreed-upon time, Kyojuro was sure. So where was Hikaru? Kyojuro knocks again, leaning up to the door.

“Hikaru? Are you in there?”

Kyojuro listens carefully, but his hearing isn’t very good. He thinks he can head muffled cursing. Suddenly, he hears Hikaru’s voice, barely audible and slightly ragged through the door.

“Come in,” he says hoarsely.

Kyojuro pushes open the door to Hikaru’s room, and his heart immediately clenches with concern. Hikaru is sitting on the floor, wrapped in a blanket, his back facing Kyojuro. His head is lowered and his shoulders are slumped, staring at the ground.

“I’m sorry,” he rasps immediately, not looking up.

“Hikaru, my little flame, what on earth happened?” Kyojuro says, his voice immediately taking on a note of softness that he reserves exclusively for his lover. He steps forward, closing the door behind him and hesitantly reaching out a hand, unsure if he should touch Hikaru or not. “What’s wrong, love?”

“I was… I was trying to get ready,” Hikaru sniffles. “But I wanted to look good, wanted to look nice for you, and.. and nothing looked right, I… I didn’t look right.” Hikaru’s voice breaks, and Kyojuro realizes with a jolt that there are tears pouring down his cheeks. “Nothing looks… right. Not on me.”

“Oh, Karu,” Kyojuro says gently, his soul aching for the other man. “What are you talking about? You’re beautiful, my beetle.” He steps forward again, crouching down behind Hikaru and leaning forward to look at his face. Hikaru twists away, shielding his face with his hand.

“I’m not. I’m… I’m not right. I’m a freak,” Hikaru says hoarsely. “Everyone thinks so. You know how they look at me.” He sniffles, wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his haori. “You see how some of the other Slayers treat me. I’m a g-goddamn freak of nature, and everyone knows it.” He breaks down again, burying his head in his arms.

Kyojuro watches helplessly for a moment as Hikaru starts to cry again, his mind racing for a solution, some possible way to comfort his lover. Before he’s even realized it, he’s wrapping his arms around Hikaru, drawing him in close. “Hey, shhh, it’s okay, Beetle, it’s okay,” he says gently, his face soft with concern. Searching for the right words to say, he just holds Hikaru close, rubbing comforting circles onto his back with one calloused hand.

“You’re not a freak, Hikaru,” Kyojuro says gently, but firmly. “I don’t ever want to hear you call yourself that. Never once, not in your life or mine, have you ever been a freak.”

“But I am,” Hikaru sobs. “I’m… I’m not right, Kyojuro. I wasn’t… I wasn’t born right. My body is wrong, it’s wrong and it doesn’t look like it’s supposed to, and my clothes look weird and my skin doesn’t fit and, and-” Hikaru cuts himself off, gasping for breath before dissolving into more sobs. “If I w-was right, if I b-belonged, I wouldn’t feel like this,” he cries into Kyojuro’s chest. “I wouldn’t feel like some kind of horrid th-thing, every time I look in a mirror.”

For a few moments, Kyojuro doesn’t know what to say. He can’t even begin to imagine what Hikaru must be feeling, what it must be like to feel out of place in your own skin. But he has to say something, so he just says the first words that come to his mind.

“Hikaru, my love, my brilliant blazing flame,” he says gently, running his hand over Hikaru’s head in a soothing petting motion. “I can’t even imagine what it’s like. I know it’s hard, my love. I know it’s hard.” He squeezes Hikaru comfortingly, knowing that the pressure helps calm him. “But my darling, you belong. Every breath you take, every step you walk, every moment of every day, you belong. Just because you’re different doesn’t make you less worthy. It means you should be celebrated. It takes so much strength, so much courage to do what you do, Karu. You are so strong, and so beautiful, and you belong, my flame.”

Hikaru opens his mouth to argue, but Kyojuro keeps going before he can get any words out. “I know, I know, I know it’s so much easier said than done. It’s so much easier to say you belong than to feel it. But look at me, Karu.” Kyojuro gently takes Hikaru’s chin in his hand, and tilts it up to meet his gaze.

“Hikaru, do you trust me?” he asks softly.

Hikaru sniffles, and nods tearfully.

“With all my heart,” he rasps.

“Then trust me when I say that you belong. Hold your head high, my flame. You are beautiful, the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid my eyes on. And you belong, just as you are.”

Hikaru’s bright violet eyes well up once more, and a fresh wave of tears rolls over him. He pitches forward into Kyojuro’s chest again, shoulders heaving. Kyojuro simply holds him, holds him like a precious treasure, holds him like it’s the only thing he knows how to do. He strokes Hikaru’s hair soothingly, giving him a safe space to simply feel.

“It’s okay, little flame,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the crown of Hikaru’s head. “Just let yourself feel it. I’ve got you.”

Hikaru cries for a few more minutes, cries until his sobs dissolve into strangled gasps, until his strangled gasps dissolve into soft little hiccups and shaky, ragged breaths.

“I don’t… feel beautiful,” he croaks into Kyojuro’s uniform. “Some days I feel… some days I feel like I don’t even know what I am.”

“Hikaru Eritora,” Kyojuro says softly, tilting the other man’s chin up to look him in the eyes again. “You, my love, are so many, many things.” His hand glides from Hikaru’s chin to cup his cheek, brushing away his tears with a gentle thumb. Hikaru sighs softly, leaning into his lover’s gentle touch. “But above all, Hikaru, you are one thing.” Kyojuro draws Hikaru forward and wraps his arms around him, enveloping him in a warm, fierce, almost reverent embrace.

“Irreplaceable.”

Kyojuro says the word so simply, like it’s the easiest truth ever to be spoken. Like it’s the only truth that could ever be possible.

To Kyojuro, it is.

For a moment there’s just silence. A soft kind of intimate quiet, like they’re the only two people in the world, and the only thing that matters is the embrace the two lovers are locked in.

“Thank you,” Hikaru breathes, burying his face in Kyojuro’s golden hair. “Thank you, my Firefly.” He sniffles softly, clinging to Kyojuro’s haori. His voice is low, hoarse, and infinitely grateful.

Kyojuro just smiles softly, his blazing eyes crinkling gently in the corners.

“Always, my flame.”

He draws back slightly, sliding his hands up to grasp Hikaru’s shoulders as they kneel together on the floor. His face softens, giving Hikaru a gentle smile. “Feeling better, love?” Hikaru sniffles and nods, returning the smile tearfully as he wipes his eyes. Kyojuro chuckles fondly. “Good. Are you still up for date night?” He grins a bit wider now, almost sheepishly. “I must admit, I’m starving.”

Hikaru laughs, his voice hoarse from tears but laced with joy. He leans forward, and presses a gentle, tender kiss to Kyojuro’s lips. Kyojuro hums happily, returning the gesture with a smile.

“Let’s go get you some food, then,” Hikaru says affectionately. Kyojuro helps him to his feet, and they share one last embrace before slipping out into the night, hand in hand.

Hand in hand, soul in soul, irreplaceable.

#leon writes #hikaru eritora #kyojuro x oc #demon slayer #demon slayer oc #kny #rengoku kyojuro #kny oc #oc x canon #kny fluff #comfort #kny fanfic #oc fanfiction

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gabzlovesu · 2 years ago

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𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘

╰ ft. kaeya alberich !

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for MONTHS even before i took my break from writing. and i've proofread this fic damn near 100 times but wasn't sure about posting it. i'm so sorry lol. after this i swear i'll post fics for new characters!

warnings: fem!reader, oral (fem! receiving), angsty sex, kaeya struggling to use his big boy words and tell reader how he feels (bc canon kaeya is >>> fanon kaeya, like bffr)...

word count: 1.2k

☆ PLEASE READ MY RULES/BYF BEFORE INTERACTING ! MINORS DNI ! ☆

Your thumb glides along his lip, studying the fine lines and savoring the warmth that radiates through your fingertip. Your gaze remained fixed on his lips longer than it should have, fearing that once you kissed him — once your lips met and sealed off the world around you — that he too would vanish and become nothing more than a figment of your imagination. And when you finally kissed, it was slow, every movement exaggerated to make this moment last a tad bit longer.

That’s how things usually go whenever you dared to let love trespass the cracked and ragged walls surrounding your heart. The forbidden feeling crept in, and he crept out, going off on his own and leaving you behind with no one to share the extra space.

So you hold on, fisting the hair above the nape of his neck and the white fabric of his shirt as you deepened the kiss, all while eliciting a deep, guttural moan from him. It was your favorite sound. The vocalization of his unspoken desire laced with something more… a bit of feral nature. His fingers dig into your hips as he pulls you closer on his lap, letting you feel what you do to him through the many layers of clothing between the two of you.

He never said those three measly words that you desperately wanted to hear, but it wasn’t like he dangled them over your head and strung you along either… they just lingered at the back of this throat where they taunted his tongue, wanting to be muttered into the crook of your neck as he held you.

Like a fool, you gave in to him completely as you’ve done countless times before, letting him fill the space between your legs the same way he occupied every inch of your mind. You didn’t stop him. You wanted him to invade your thoughts, your thighs, and every other part of you. You wanted to feel everything he couldn’t say.

“Kaeya…” Your voice trails off, as you get lost in the blue of his eyes. But you didn’t need to finish, not when you gave that lovesick look that you always did before you professed your love. And although he would never admit it, guilt welled up within him every single time. He was guilty about the fact that he couldn’t bring himself to reciprocate such a simple statement. Or maybe he was guilty about the fact that you loved him instead of someone better, someone that didn’t hide their emotions and ration out their love.

Tonight was different. Something urged him deep inside.

“It’s my turn to say it,” he says, cutting you off. Kaeya leads your hand to his mouth so that he can press a kiss into your palm before continuing. “I love you. I am so deeply in love with you Y/N that I don’t know what to do with myself. And I need you to know. ”

He loves you.

Kaeya loves you.

Maybe you heard that wrong, so you just stare at him with uncertainty.

Silence.

Both of you freeze in place and the air stifles with a bit of awkward tension. You fix your mouth to say something but this time, you’re the one who is struggling to force words to come out, to provide a response. As much as he wanted you to give one, he doesn’t wait any longer. Instead, he starts littering your body with kisses like he was trying to prove his confession.

The lower he crept down your body, the more your back arched off of the satin sheet, offering more of yourself to him as he worked his way to your hot core. Only when his mouth met your aching bud did you melt and mesh with the sheets, drowning in the smooth ocean of grey as you struggled to stay afloat in the sea of arousal.

You could’ve sworn he was mouthing the words into your cunt over and over as he devoured you, and they traveled up from your quivering lips straight to your heart where they were etched permanently — words you would never forget. They were all you focused on as he continued to make love to you. Even when he slowly sank into your heat, rocking his hips and whispering more words into your ear to accompany each thrust, but they were irrelevant words that paled in comparison to “I love you”.

The night ended too soon as your bodies continued to tangle. And some time during your coition, the sheets were ripped from the bed so you resorted to cuddling into this toned body as a heat source. He didn’t mind, his finger idly drawing shapes into your bare back as you counted his heartbeats that thundered in his chest.

It didn’t matter how much you flushed your body against him though. There was still a small possibility that he would be gone by dawn’s first light, leaving as swiftly and quietly as the night had set…and maybe you were okay with that. You didn’t expect for him to stick around, to see that coy smile when you woke in the morning, especially not after what he said tonight. The calvary captain would probably drown himself in work and pretend you didn’t exist for a few days so he could mull over his feelings with a bottle of liquor and get his head straight. But you were okay with that — it was normal.

The cold, empty space next to you in the morning was enough to convince you. Your heart cracking a little more, letting the love start to leak without anyone to catch it. Part of you did expect him to stay, just for once.

At least he had the decency to drape his fur-lined cape over your naked form, the white fur tickled your nose and caused you to wake from your slumber. You slowly climb off the bed, wrapping the cape around yourself as you take in the mess on the floor: your clothes scattered around, pillows thrown about, and the sheets lay jumbled at the foot of the bed. A sigh escapes your lips and then your eyes look to the billowing curtains, realizing that the balcony doors were open to the morning breeze.

What you found behind the curtains was shocking, bringing goosebumps to your skin along with the crisp Mondstat air. There was Kaeya, standing at the rail glowing in the golden hue of the morning sun as it peaked out from behind the horizon. He was ethereal.

If Khaenri’ah did have a god, you imagined it would be fashioned after him.

It didn’t take long for him to notice your presence, and while he did hesitate at first — gauging your feelings about last night — he eventually slinked over to you. He let his arms fall in place around you, second nature it seemed, before locking lips.

It was a goodbye kiss since he had to report to headquarters soon, but it was also a promise to return later. You could tell from the way he extended the deep kiss, usually it was a quick peck and he was gone. This time he pulled you in and french kissed you until his lungs burned for air.

With a stroke of his thumb across your lip while admiring your eyes, mimicking you from last night, he departed silently out the door. You stood there with a stupid grin plastered on your face as you held the cape tight and ran your fingers over the exact spot his thumb grazed moments prior.

TAGLIST FORM

tags: @hungrynessforfics @rinhoes @indiecursor @protectpancakes @fight-me-bitch @nneedynymph @po3ticb3auty @haitani-plague @festive @apollostears @thenerdyrebel @4ngrysgf @daichisbunnybaby @urwifey2 @picayunne @kookieflvr @woahhajime @syomi @chrolloderulo @kutosznn @takemichiluvr @sweeneyblue1 @tyga-lily @jeanslove @getoswhore @thicksimpx @sakurashell @38riku @hyeque @wiserebelpartypie @sleepy3 @yuujilove @imperatorkhaleesi @sukunas-left-nut-sack @lawscorazon @sailewhoremoon @chaoticevilbakugo @xxrwzy @wh0reforlevi @nekoriots @yeagerfushiguro @chaotic-fangirl-blog @sftbunny-blog @dukina @momoewn @thithesandofferings @justdevine @hyeque @chittakii @breyspage

#kaeya x reader #kaeya x y/n #kaeya genshin x reader #kaeya alberich #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut

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maaxverstappen · 7 months ago

Note

I’ve been asking ppl cus im nosy. What’s your writing process like if any? Do u have a preferred place or time. Preferred device. Do u write rough drafts then edit or is it much more considered. How do u decide that an idea is worth fleshing out or pursuing if it looks like it’s plotty. Pls yap at length if u so wish — wiz

i love this question!! and would love to know other answers so if you want to reblog them i shall be on the lookout 👀.

i answered partly here so will just like build on that!!

the process is that i’ll have an idea and depending on how large it is write out some sort of outline. my preference for all planning in life is on paper so i have a little journal that ill write out some ideas in. kind of brainstorm / mind map style of just jotting down random ideas that come to mind.

however, with longer fics like my current post-as-i-go wip i have to do it digital bc so much changes and it’s too long (see pics in previous ask). that one i actually started planning in my notes app on a plane bc the idea had to come out of me someway and i was really excited about it. i then transferred it to a google doc and added onto my chapter per chapter outline (1st pic in previous ask). i felt like that was a bit overwhelming for understanding the overall plot so then i went and made a simple overview of the key plot points per chapter (the 2nd pic in previous ask) just so i felt like i had a better understanding of the goal per chapter.

now when i sit down to write a chapter ill get both the detailed notes and the main plot points and just write whatever i feel like in order to get to the goal of the chapter.

for shorter one shot fics i’ll either have no full outline or a one page idea list kind of thing. for instance, for worth the trouble i knew that it would start and end in the present time and then everything in between would be a flashback, but i didn’t know the flashbacks would be non chronological until i was writing it. same for the chewing gum aspect that ends up being quite an important part of the symbolism and that almost weaves the parts together, that wasn’t a *thing* until i was almost finished with the rough draft and i then went to add it in to previous scenes.

for my long fic i have to be a bit more calculated with the hidden messages/foreshadowing as i can’t go back and edit published chapters lmao so that is a little more thought out + i keep track of loose ends to tie together at some point.

editing is a bit of a harder one. for my long fic my overal editing is per chapter, but i do tend to go back and edit per section too. like right now I’m writing a texting scene and first i wrote the plain texting dialogue, then i went back to add the bits in between from characters’ pov. then i’ll read over it fully and edit where needed. finally when the whole chapter is done ill read over it and edit again, but at that point it’s mainly grammar and punctuation.

my main writing issues i’ve noticed so far is that i tend to switch tenses without realising so that’s something i look out for when editing. i also am always worried they don’t *do* enough so i like to think “hmm what action can i add in here to make them more human” when editing.

so far only worth the trouble has been beta read, the rest i do myself. if I’m stuck i will talk through a lot of it with my partner who will give me some ideas and just like help lmao (she’s also the one that beta read wtt!). but she’s not in the f1 fandom so it’s a little hard to have her beta read for characterisation and specific plot points so i do that myself. like when she beta read wtt she gave a few points of feedback that weren’t too relevant bc the average f1 fic reader would understand (like the significance of spa21, there is no need to explain it).

I’m a baby fic writer so a lot of my process will be redefined and refined as i go I’m sure.

as for deciding what to write, it’s really whatever captures my attention. the prompt for help me hold onto you is one i really liked and a trope i love reading myself. i was also ready to challenge myself to a longer plot fic and i was really excited about the idea so i just went for it! my main consideration is really just how excited i am for it.

i will say that i am currently really struggling with perfectionism / imposter syndrome. I’m having a hard time getting the words onto paper bc it feels like it’ll never be as good as my favourite authors anyway so what’s the point. (which is now also impacting the way i read fics bc it makes me sad that ill never write anything as good as what I’m reading lol)

i generally write on my laptop! in a google doc with grammarly activated and the word count on screen (which pisses me off bc i have to turn it back on after every refresh). i wrote my latest crafty!oscar on my phone (bc i was too excited to wait till i got to my laptop) but wouldn’t ever do that for anything much longer or plot-ier than that.

i fear this has gotten very long. i know u said yap away but …. i perhaps have yapped too close to the sun.

#really liked answering this :-) and the fic writer asks from the weekend too. so fun #she says as she still has unanswered asks from that game in her inbox #anyway #thanks wiz <3 a community gem as always #m answers #about me

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martianbugsbunny · 1 year ago

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Every Bit Of You (A HatterHare Fic)

*falls out of sky* *lands ungracefully on tea table* Hi! I’ve seen that some people in the AiW HatterHare fandom don’t really read fic for them unless it’s a fun lil romp a la the show, and that’s fair, but I’m not very good at writing fluff of that variety so I didn’t. This one has been sitting in my drafts for a while, basically since I watched “He’s Not Heavy, He’s My Hatter” bc I think they went a joke or a few too far in that episode, but also because I was having a bit of a rough time (still am, but that’s another story) and it’s a bit of projection/venting. CW for this: body image issues, some negative thoughts about appearance/weight/food. If the warning does not contain anything that you don’t want to read or would be upset by reading, go forth.

Hatter stared at himself in the mirror. He was dressed down to his undershirt and a pair of polka-dotted sleeping pants, and he had finally taken off that day’s coat of mauve lipstick about five minutes ago. His hat hung on a mannequin head attached to the wall, his strawberry-blonde hair slightly mussed without it.

Had he gained a few pounds? He examined his figure, frowning slightly. Hare had shared a new carrot soufflé recipe with him and he had definitely eaten a bit more in the past couple of days than usual. What could he say—having a hare for a husband had, among other things, convinced him of the deliciousness of root vegetables.

Hatter sighed. He hated to lose his trim shape, even temporarily; he wasn’t sure he had the eye appeal to spare. He didn’t think there was anything particularly unique about his face (unless maybe it was that his eyebrows were so big and wild), but he could always count on his slim physique to make him feel attractive.

Hare exited the bathroom, hair and ears slightly damp, with his freshly-showered waterlily scent clinging to him and filling the room. “Something wrong, Hatter?” he asked, pausing to tilt his head and tap the water out of one ear.

“I’m just…having one of those days,” Hatter answered, his shoulders slumping. “Nothing seems right, especially me.”

Hare immediately came over and wrapped his arms around Hatter’s waist, meeting his eyes through the mirror glass. “You’re all rights to me,” he said gently, kissing Hatter’s shoulder. “But go on, tell me what you’re feeling insecure about. Maybe I can help.”

Hatter, for once, was at a complete loss for words. It wasn’t that Hare didn’t have his own worries about his looks—he did, being one of only two bunny-like creatures in Wonderland, and he was vocal about those feelings when they became particularly acute. It was more that Hatter was used to being there for Hare, when his anxieties flared, and despite knowing that Hare would understand, he didn’t know what to say.

So he just took Hare’s hands and placed them on his own midsection, which was undeniably a bit softer to the touch than it had been a week ago.

Hare smiled, tracing the planes of Hatter’s stomach beneath his shirt. “First of all, you look very cute,” he said. “I know it’s not enough, but you do.” And it wasn’t, Hare was right; not for getting rid of that nagging, lingering, sharp little part of Hatter’s mind that kept whispering you aren’t handsome enough—but he still felt the usual warmth that came with one of Hare’s frequent compliments. “Second, I don’t care what shape you are. I don’t care how much you weigh or how much you eat. You are always handsome to me, and I don’t compare you to yourself.”

Hatter managed a small half-smile back, though he couldn’t quite take his eyes off the reflection in the mirror.

“I love this little bit of softness here that tells me you really like my Hare-family recipes.” Hare moved one hand to trip along the curve of Hatter’s bicep. “I love that you’ve got extra muscles here from lifting teapots and teakettles and heavy mixing bowls.” He nudged the back of Hatter’s right leg with his foot. “I love the scar here from when we rode a shopping cart down that big hill.”

Hare went and stood between Hatter and the mirror, taking his hands. “And whatever else your body looks like in the future, I will love that, too.”

So it still didn’t smooth over everything pricking in Hatter’s brain—he knew that wasn’t that easy. But he was able to lie in bed, with his arms wrapped tightly around Hare, reassured that Hare wasn’t thinking about him the way he thought about himself. And that was a comfort.

#adventures in wonderland #aiw1992 #mad hatter #march hare #hatterhare #march madness #hat hare #hatter x hare #hare x hatter #March hare x mad hatter #mad hatter x March hare #aiw fic #cw: body image issues #cw: negative thoughts about food/weight/appearance #projection #martianbugsbunny writes fic

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jareicanon · 1 year ago

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I love your fics!!!!! They're so beautiful 🥹I want to know- how long have you been writing for to become so good? Haha

WAHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH <333

I’ve been writing for a lot of years now, I’d put it roughly at 8 years total?? Maybe?? Not sure. But I spent a lot of free time/school hours (when I wasn’t supposed to be writing lol) doing my own thing, but even back then my quality of writing wasn’t great—

But like— That’s the whole point of practicing right? Like. You get better with time and practice.

I DEFINITELY HAVE — if you go back to my earlier works in ao3 from when I joined (last October I think?), so nearly a year ago, the quality of my writing is… yikes!!!! And that was after I’d had like a whole year off from writing after I had insane writers block.

Now I’d say I’m pretty decent, but I’m still improving! Be that character portrayal, descriptions or dialogue.

And fun fact, I only made myself an ao3 account in order to force myself to get back into writing, in order to practice descriptions — which are my weakness when it comes to writing, as I default to dialogue — and to have a record of me writing (with dates included), so I’d be forced to keep it up in writing and not spend months in an odd limbo of not writing, like I’d done before (my writers block beforehand had lasted for several months and then I’d really struggled in getting back into writing and enjoying it).

But yeah! I’m still improving myself, even if I’ve been writing for a while. I can still find faults within my own writing (name one writer who can’t, I’ll wait), but like— I’ve definitely improved since last year, you know?

I try not to put too much emphasis on myself to “be good” with how poor my own self reflection is, but honestly, how my writing has come so far is mainly down to me strictly sitting down and making myself practice by doing a rough draft every few days and then when I can’t bear to look over it anymore, posting it so it’s out there and done and then moving onto the next.

I hate being told this lmao so I sympathise if it’s annoying, but seriously— Practice does pay off. It might take a while to see the results (and I sympathise here too; it’s irritating when you don’t think you’re making any progress), but they will show up!

Keep writing what you enjoy for YOU and for NO ONE ELSE (bc if you start doing it for others your love of writing may start to wear down) and it will pay off!

#riza rambles #a lot!!#rizalore #rizamuse #riza talks forever lmao #fanfiction #author #writer #practice!!!!#i hate being told to practice but honestly it��s the only way you improve #hope this helps!#??? i sort of go off topic for a bit my bad

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softspiderling · 2 years ago

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speak now (or forever hold your peace) | b.r.b.

summary: it's supposed to be the happiest day of your life.

pairing: bradley “rooster” bradshaw x reader

warnings: angst??? IDK! also violence

word count: 5,5k

author’s note: this has been sitting in my drafts for SO LONG! and then i decided to write the entire fucking thing, i'm not even joking, this fic was very much different two days ago but i have been waiting for the perfect moment and i guess it’s now🤭 thank you to sol who has been expressing her excitement for this fic (and we laughed about taylor swift inspired fics, bc this is OBVIOUSLY inspired by speak now (and that one japril moment. you know which one)). I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!!!

Fixing the collar of his suit, Bradley stared at his reflection in the mirror. He had opted against his dress-whites, knowing you preferred him in a normal suit. Now however, he severely regretted it, missing the layer of protection his dress-whites provided him. He felt stuffy in the suit, vulnerable. He wondered if there was still enough time to go home and change, when there was a knock on the door.

“Hey, you just gonna stay in here for the whole ceremony?”

Natasha was eyeing him carefully, not an ounce of shame present on her face, even though she was standing halfway in the men’s bathroom. Bradley put up a brave face, but he knew that she’d see right through it. God, he could already see the pitiful looks on his friends as soon as he’d step out the door again.

“I just- needed to fix my bowtie,” Bradley sniffed, straightening said bow-tie before turning to look at her. Natasha raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’re good, right? No regrets? No desire to ditch?”

Bradley looked back into the mirror to avoid Natasha’s gaze, resisting the urge to run his hands through his hair. He had been thinking about ditching the second he entered the venue, but that would just be taking the easy way out. You were his friend, and he should be there for arguably one of the most important days of your life. His own feelings be damned.

“No, this is her wedding. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. It just… Sucks.”

Natasha didn’t reply, clearly waiting for him to elaborate, her arms crossed over her chest. Judging by her face, he wouldn’t get around it. She always disapproved of the reasons why you and him didn’t work out.

“I mean. I knew that this day would eventually come. She’s always been open about wanting to get married and you know, settling down and all. But I thought I had more time to get over her. I mean, I probably won’t ever get over her, but... I sound stupid, don’t I?”

“Yes.”

There was no hesitation in Natasha’s voice and Bradley shot her a pained look. With a sigh, she uncrossed her arms and fully stepped inside the bathroom, shutting the door behind her and leaning against it.

“I’m sorry you feel this way. You know how I always used to say that the two of you were kind of perfect together. Honestly, I still think that. But it’s literally the day of her wedding. You made your bed, now you have to lie in it. It’s too late now.”

Bradley’s chest tightened, and nodded quickly, dropping his gaze to the floor. “Yeah… Yeah I know.”

“I’m sorry,” Natasha said, reaching out to squeeze arm. “I wish things would’ve been different.”

So did he.

With a deep breath, Bradley glanced at the mirror one last time, before he put his hand on the door knob, straightening his shoulders. “Okay. Let’s go, before you get caught trying to sneak a peak.”

Bradley stepped out of the bathroom and was immediately thrown back into the bustling crowd, full of nicely dressed people. Even Callie, your maid of honor, had cleaned up nicely.

“Hey, wasn’t sure you’d make it,” she said, not unkind, eyeing him up and down. “She’s down the hall, if you want to say hi.”

Bradley gave her a curt nod, before leaving Natasha to her girlfriend, walking down the hall, looking over his shoulder as the two women watched him go, conversing quietly. Callie had been cold ever since you broke up with him, treating him cordially, like a colleague, but never as a friend. And he didn't blame her, really.

He knocked on the brown door, before stepping inside, where you were sitting in front of the vanity, dressed in a white fluffy robe.

“Hey. How’s the blushing bride?”

“Hi,” you said and he smiled at you, somewhat sorrowfully, taking a seat on the ottoman across from you. “I’m kind of nervous.”

“Pretty sure that’s normal wedding day jitters,” Bradley joked.

You gave him a self-deprecating smile, clearly lost in thoughts.

“You okay?”

Bradley’s brows furrowed in worry as he took in your face and the slight frown. People said that wedding jitters were especially nerve-wracking, but you had always been a champ. And you had been looking forward to your wedding day ever since you were a little girl, he knew that.

“Yeah. Just can’t believe it’s finally my wedding day, you know?”

Bradley pressed his lips together, cupping your cheek gently. “I’m happy for you. Henry is a good man and he treats you the way you deserve to be treated. I’m really glad that you found someone who can give you what you want.”

Even though I wish I could give you what you needed.

You smiled at him, your eyes glassy. Wedding jitters really were something, huh?

“Guess your life plan really is on its track, isn’t it?”

You choked out a laugh and he grinned at you warmly, squeezing your hand. He grabbed a tissue from the vanity, pressing it gently against your lower lash line so as to not ruin your make-up.

“Do you want me to give you away?”

“W-what?”

He flushed, realizing his poor choice of words.

“Do you want me to walk you down the aisle?” he rephrased and you chuckled drily, shaking your head.

“Oh, um, no. I’m good, thank you.”

Nodding, Bradley stood to leave, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, holding onto your shoulder a bit too long than necessary before walking towards the door. He paused, just before crossing over the threshold, turning back like he wanted to say something. Bradley took a deep breath, his lips parted, the words almost tumbling out of his mouth, before he shut his mouth and just like that, he stepped out of the room, the falling shut behind him quietly.

Bradly breathed out harshly, rubbing a hand over his face, wondering if you were thinking about the same thing he was.

“Where is this going, Bradley?”

Bradley’s been ordered for a special deployment overseas. It was all hush-hush, and he didn’t know how long it was going to take and it made you face the impending doom of your relationship. Honestly, he knew it was stupid to start something with you in the first place. From the first time you talked, you had made it clear that you wanted to find a good man and settle down, have a family and a house with a white picket fence.

Something he could never give you.

He was still young when his father had died, but he grew up watching his mother juggle with the job of a parent, a job that was supposed to be filled by two parents. Bradley swore that he’d never do this to anyone he loved, that he’d never settle down and have a family himself.

You didn’t have time to date someone and “see where this is going”. Even so, Bradley had always orbited you, drawn to your carefree attitude and your fierce loyalty towards the people you loved. His stance on settling down was about the only thing that held the two of you back. Instead, you danced around each other, flirted mercilessly, were friends.

Just friends.

But after a night full of tequila shots and Bradley on the piano, he got weak. And he’d been weak ever since.

Things with you were simple, and it was almost scary how the two of you fell into a relationship that was so intense and burning, he should have known that this would blow up in his face one day.

“What do you mean? The mission isn’t going to take forever, half a year tops. You’ll still be here when I get back, yeah?”

He pulled one of his signature Hawaiian shirts out of his closet and threw it over his tank top, barely paying attention to the conversation.

“Bradley, I am serious.”

With a glance over his shoulder, Bradley took one look at your face, before he crossed the distance between you, sitting on the bed. Lifting his hand, he stroked your cheek gently, a somber look on his face.

“I want to get married.”

The words visibly cut him and Bradley immediately shut down, shaking his head as he pulled his hand away. Deep down, he’d known that this conversation was coming. He had been pushing it off, distracting you with slow kisses and wandering hands, but there was no pushing it off now. “You know I don’t want to. You’ve always known. Why are you bringing this up?”

“You’ve always known what I wanted, Bradley. What is it, what we’re doing here? Are we just gonna keep dating until we’re old?”

“Why are you turning this into an argument?” Bradley asked defensively, his cheeks turning red, like every time he got mad. “Fine, we both knew going into this that we’ve had different plans for the future, but I thought-”

“You thought what? That I’d just abandon the life I’ve always wanted?”

“This isn’t fair,” Bradley snapped. “Why can’t you respect my decision? It’s perfectly normal not to want to get married.”

“I respect your decision,” you said calmly and Bradley paused, his chest heaving as all the anger suddenly left his body.

“Then what’s all this about?”

“It’s about me respecting my decision and what I want. And-...” you swallowed thickly, words stuck in your throat. Bradley’s eyes widened when he realized what you were about to say. “I think we have to break up.”

“Now, hold on-”

“Do you want to get married? To me?”

“You know it’s not about you,” Bradley pressed, his breath quickening. “It’s- I am doing this for you!”

“It’s a simple question, Bradley.”

He opened his mouth, making a sound at the back of his throat, his eyes wide. Bradley didn’t really say anything, but it was enough for you to know. You smiled sadly, tears welling up in your eyes as you put your hands on his shoulders. “Maybe in another life… Maybe we will get our happy end then.” Pressing a soft kiss on his cheek, you left the room quietly, left him.

Bradley sat there for an hour, stupidly waiting as if you’d come back, even though he knew you weren’t.

The break up had been hard. But he knew that you made the decision with a clear head. It wasn’t fair of you to want him to change his mind on a principle he was set on and it wasn’t fair of Bradley to expect you to give up on marriage. Even though you went no contact with him, he had thought of you every single day while he was on deployment and when Bradley got back, he just begged for another one until he got shipped off to Japan.

When he got called back to Top Gun and bumped into Callie, he couldn’t help asking about you and somehow the two of you were drawn back together, like you were destined to be in his life. And when he first heard about your engagement from Callie, Bradley thought about going to your place and stealing you away, begging you to take him back.

Bradley wiped his sweaty hands as he walked between the chairs in the venue, before sitting down. He was jittery, and with Jake on the chair next to him, that probably wasn’t going to change any time soon.

“You sure you can make it through the ceremony?”

Bradley detected a hint of concern in the other man’s voice and he gave him a nervous smile, nodding. Jake clapped his leg gently, not entirely convinced, but there wasn’t any time to question him further, as the wedding march started playing. Bradley, along with the other guests, stood up. Your bridesmaids floated down the aisle where Henry was already next to the minister, looking perfectly fine in his steamed suit. The entire wedding party looked like a match-made in heaven, dressed in soft colors, but when you appeared at the end of the aisle?

You took his breath away.

As you slowly walked past all of your guests, Bradley felt the sudden urge to grab your arm and run, so he stuffed his hands into his pockets, shifting from one foot to the other. You gave him a small smile when you passed him and the one he returned was rather crummy. It should’ve been him waiting for you at the altar.

God, he was a mess.

Henry offered you his hand when you reached the bottom of the stairs, and together you ascended, stopping in front of the minister.

“Could you maybe try and sit still?” Jake hissed to Bradley’s side, but he could barely hear him. The minister was droning on and on as the happy couple stood at the front of the venue, but all Bradley could hear was the blood rushing to his ears. He thought he could do it, sit through the entirety of your wedding ceremony, congratulate you after and have a few drinks at the party, maybe even dance. But now that he was sitting here, watching you get married to another man? He thought he was going to get sick.

You and Henry turned around to look at your guests, smiles on your faces. Bradley’s mouth dropped open, and he suddenly felt so hot.

“And you, Y/N’s and Henry’s closest friends and family, are here today to bear witness to their union. Will you promise to love and support their marriage in all the days to come? If so, respond we will.”

“We will.”

The two words got stuck in his throat, even if he had wanted to, he couldn’t have uttered them. For a split-second, your eyes met Bradley’s and he shifted in his seat. You were smiling, but the smile never really reached your eyes. Taking a deep breath, Bradley shook his hands out before suddenly standing up. There was rustling between the seats as everyone turned to stare at him and Bradley started sweating when you furrowed your brows. Bradley opened his mouth, but he couldn’t find the words.

“Now’s not the time, Bradshaw,” Jake hissed, gently tugging on Bradley’s hand before he sat down again. Bradley exhaled deeply, wringing his hands and you blinked at him nervously, before turning back around, while Henry frowned at him for a second too long.

He knew that his friends were staring at him and Natasha leaned forward, subtly shaking her head at him, a horrified look on her face. But Bradley felt like he was suffocating if he didn’t speak up right now.

His hands were shaky as he got up once more, but his voice was strong, as it echoed through the room.

“Please don’t marry him.”

The minister stopped mid-sentence, and suddenly all eyes were on Bradley again. The silence was almost unbearable, his skin was prickling at the shocked and angry faces of everyone around him, but he had his eyes fixed on you. You were the only one that mattered.

“I love you,” Bradley said and the commotion he caused was nearly comical. “I made a mistake. I should’ve asked you to marry me the first time we kissed, because that was when I knew that I never wanted to spend a day without you ever again. I never should have let you leave, I should have fought for you. For us. I realize my timing is kind of shitty. I’m sorry it took me having to see you almost getting married to someone else to realize that,” Bradley swallowed thickly. “Don’t marry him. Please.”

When all of the words rushed out of his mouth, Bradley was relieved and terrified at the same time. Next to him, his friends’ reactions varied from covering their faces from embarrassment, mouth agape from the shock and just pure rage from Natasha. You were staring at him with wide eyes, your lower lip trembling. The tension was palpable and the longer it took for you to say something, anything, really at this point, Bradley started sweating, slowly processing what he had done. He was about to turn on his heel and run until he was in Canada when you bunched up the skirt of your wedding dress in your hands.

Walking down the stairs, you slowly approached him and Bradley held his breath as you stared up at him, face unreadable. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, his heart beating against his ribcage when you suddenly raised your hand and slapped him across the face.

The other guests gasped in shock and stunned, Bradley held his cheek, his mouth dropped open. With a shake of your head, you took off, running down the aisle until you disappeared around the corner. Callie quickly followed suit, giving Bradley a look of disbelief as she passed him. Bradley however was rooted in his spot, and nobody moved, nobody even dared to breathe.

When Bradley had to eject from his F18 during the mission, it was something he never wanted to experience again. His ears were ringing from the explosion and when he was ejected, all of the oxygen left his lungs. The air was splitting cold, almost burning against his warm skin and when he slowly parachuted down into the ground, pines and needles scratched up his face, before the freezing snow hit him in all the wrong places. Every single limb was screaming in pain and he was so cold.

This was worse.

Bradley exhaled deeply, trying to loosen the knot in his chest, but it only coiled in tighter, especially when Henry stalked towards him. Bradley hadn’t lied when he told you that he liked Henry, because he did. He was a good man. A good man, who was about to sock him in the face, judging by the way his hands were curled in fists.

Whatever was coming, he’d deserve it. But Bradley squeezed his eyes shut anyway, not wanting to get punched in the eye, and he braced for impact.

But it never came.

When he opened his eyes again, Jake had his hand wrapped around Henry’s wrist, his face hard.

“I know you’re angry, but this is not the solution. Walk it off,” Jake said evenly and Henry scoffed out a laugh, turning his wrist out of the other man’s grip.

“Get the fuck out of here.”

Henry came dangerously close to Bradley, his eyes furious, before he spat at his feet, storming off. Bradley was still frozen.

“We should probably go,” Javy said, gently pushing Jake so he’d move Bradley. “I know we’re a lot of people, but literally his whole family is here and I am not sure if I can fight Henry’s grandma.”

It was a scuffle to get out between the rows of chairs, and Bradley was of no help, stumbling around like he was drunk, needing his friends to steady him as he walked out, past the guests who were slowly clearing out of the venue as well, throwing dirty looks in his direction. Somehow, he got in the backseat of Javy’s jeep, Jake on the passenger seat while Natasha was to his left, watching him with narrowed eyes.

It was only then, that it slowly started sinking in what he had just done.

“Oh my god…” he moaned, horrified, leaning his head down, burying it between his knees. “What the fuck did I do?”

“What were you thinking?” Natasha , her face contorted in anger. “Do you realize what position you put her in?”

“Trace, not now,” Jake muttered and Natasha leaned back in her seat with a scoff, crossing her arms over her chest, staring out of the window. The rest of the car ride was spent in silence, and by the time the car rolled to a stop in front of Bradley’s house, he was miserable.

Without waiting, he tumbled out of the car, trudging inside the house, heading straight to the fridge to grab a beer. He’d nearly drunk the entire bottle by the time the others walked inside, almost a complete set. His squadron lined up in front of him, Jake giving Bradley a pitiful look, handing out beers to everyone, giving Bradley a chance to collect his wits, before it inevitably all came crashing down on him.

“That was fucked up, Rooster.”

Out of all the people, he had expected Bob the least, especially with the expletive. He really messed up badly.

“We’ve had her wedding invitation for ages, you had plenty of chances to tell her how you feel, why would you leave it to the last second?” Reuben asked and Bradley dropped his gaze, because he knew he was right.

Logan made a noise. “His timing was shitty, yes, but the way she reacted tells me she had second thoughts.”

“She reacted like that because Bradley put her on the spot, are you fucking joking?” Natasha snapped at him and Logan’s eyes widened, raising his hands defensively. “She’s been dreaming about this day all her life and you just went and fucked it all up, like it was easy.”

“Tash, take it down a notch,” Javy said and Natasha glared at him.

“No, I am not going to coddle him. He fucked up, big time and he needs to own up to it.”

“Jesus, I know I fucked up, okay?” Bradley suddenly burst out, his breathing heavy. “I shouldn’t have interrupted the ceremony like that and I shouldn’t have let her leave in the first place all those years ago. But it was not easy for me, Natasha, so don’t say it like I did it for shits and giggles!”

Natasha sighed with a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing a bit, though there was still a frown on her forehead. Bradley looked at his friends, who all wore expressions varying between worry and pity, when he realized that there were people missing.

“Where’s Billy and Neil?”

“I think they’re at Callie’s. Things at the venue kind of bombed after we left and she asked them to come help,” Brigham said, purposefully vague and Bradley’s eyes shoot to him immediately.

“Is-?”

Brigham shifted uneasily on his feet, shrugging with his shoulders. “I think so, yeah.”

“Um. I think I’ll go and apologize, right?” Bradley asked, shoving his empty beer bottle on the counter and Mickey made a hesitant noise.

“I don’t think that’s the best idea? Maybe the two of you need space right now?” He said and Reuben nodded, agreeing with his backseater.

“Yeah, I think you need to give her some time. And you should use that time to collect your bearings, too. Get your head sorted.”

Bradley deflated, leaning back against his fridge and Jake gave him a look, before clucking with his tongue.

“Alright, how about everyone just get changed and get some rest? And then come back, we’ll do dinner back here, that okay, Bradshaw?”

Jake glanced at him, raising an eyebrow and Bradley muttered a yes in response, knowing that he was only trying to help. And it was probably best if he didn’t stay alone right now, or else he’d do something stupid again. Everyone voiced their agreements and then started filtering out of his kitchen, not without clapping Bradley on the shoulder in consolation.

Pressing the heel of his hand in his eyes, Bradley let out a deep sigh, before looking up at the remaining aviators in his kitchen. Natasha had her arms still crossed, Javy eyeing her like he was considering putting a leash on, Jake just, uncharacteristically worried and Bob.

“I don’t have enough food in my fridge to feed 11 people,” he then said. He barely had any food in his fridge, if he was being honest, since he was supposed to be eating dinner at your wedding.

“We’ll just pick up pizza later, don’t worry,” Bob said, giving Bradley a small, comforting smile. “You should rest up.”

Bradley nodded, heading out of the kitchen and upstairs into the bedroom, not missing how the hushed conversation started as soon as he left the room.

“- him? He’s a grown man and he made a mistake.”

“You’re kicking him while he’s down, Trace, have a bit of sympathy.”

“That’s rich coming from you, Bagman, I-”

“Hey, let’s just, take a breather, okay?”

The rest of the conversation faded as Bradley climbed up the stairs and finally reached his bedroom, dropping down on the mattress, face first. He was drained, emotionally and physically. His cheek was still stinging from when you bitch-slapped him across the face. Sitting up, Bradley groaned in frustration, suddenly feeling like he was suffocating, tugging on his bow tie until it unraveled, tossing it somewhere on the floor. His suit jacket quickly followed, the dress shirt got dropped on the floor, and with a bit of resistance, his dress pants got discarded on the floor as well. Grabbing the nearest piece of clothing, he threw on a black shirt and some sweats, hoping to ease the tightness in his chest. Bradley took a deep breath, that was too shaky for his liking, his skin was itching and he was just way too warm.

He had to get out of there.

Getting to his feet, Bradley tumbled down the stairs, only stopping briefly in the door to the kitchen, his friends freezing when they saw him. Bradley was sure he looked like a lunatic.

“I need some air,” he gasped out, before disappearing out back through his backward, ignoring the calls.

“Bradley!”

Bradley walked in quick strides, hoping none of them would follow him outside as he cut through the neighborhood until he reached the beach, the salty air filling his lungs. His feet sank into the sand, seagulls crowed as they dove past him and Bradley finally felt a sense of peace in his body.

Taking in a deep breath, he shut his eyes, only to see your face staring back at him, your hand shaking as you raised it to slap him across the face. Wincing, Bradley forced his eyes open again, the tension back in his shoulders. He had to apologize. Turning his back, he stared into the direction of his house, knowing that there was no way the others would let him go, so he had no other choice but to walk to Callie’s house. It was a two hours walk, minimum, but he could use the fresh air to find the right words.

By the time he trudged up the walk-way to Callie’s house, it was dark, the sun had set about half an hour ago, right about the same time he got cold. Pressing the doorbell, Bradley rolled his shoulders back, confident that he had found the right words to apologize to you, when Callie opened the door.

Fuck.

“You got some nerve coming here,” Callie bit at him, glaring. “You know damn well I can kick your ass, and don’t think I wouldn’t just because you’re Natasha’s best friend.”

“I don’t think that she would mind,” he admitted, his voice small. “Can I please talk to her?”

“Why? So you can break her heart all over again?”

Bradley’s heart sank and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his sweats. “I’m- I just want to apologize. Please. She doesn’t even have to talk to me, I don’t even have to see her, I can talk to her through the door, just- I need her to know that I’m sorry.”

Callie stared him down for at least a minute, before she stepped to the side to let him in.

“If she doesn’t want to talk to you, you best believe I will kick your ass out of here,” she called after him as he headed inside, waving awkwardly at Billy and Neil who were sitting in the living room. Billy was unimpressed and Neil only sighed when Callie pointed him towards the first floor.

“She’s upstairs, second bedroom to the right.”

“Thanks,” Bradley said meekly, walking up the stairs until he stood in front of the closed door. There were small sounds coming from the room and he knocked on the door gently, nervously.

“I am not hungry, Callie,” you called from inside the room, your voice congested. Like you had been crying. Bradley contemplated turning on his heel to leave, not wanting to hurt you even more, but he breathed in deeply, before speaking.

“It’s me.”

He heard you inhale sharply and he leaned his forehead against the door, closing his eyes.

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done what I did in the middle of the ceremony. I just- I thought I could be happy for you, see you off with Henry and maybe even have a few drinks with you, toasting to the new chapter of your life. But when I saw you up there with him. I couldn’t take it. I am not sorry about what I said, because I meant every word. But I am sorry for ruining your wedding and putting you on the spot like that. It was unfair and you didn’t deserve that,” Bradley said softly, sighing quietly.

There was no reaction on the other side of the door and Bradley accepted that he had done all he could do.

“I’m really sorry…” he added, before taking a step back, clearing his throat.

Suddenly, the door unlocked and he had an armful of you, beating against his chest with your hands.

“Do you know how long it took for me to accept the fact that you weren’t going to marry me, Bradley? Ages, YEARS! I was completely heartbroken when we broke up and it took me so long to get back out there, telling myself that I would find someone. When Henry proposed to me, a tiny part of me thought that maybe you would come to your senses and tell me to call off the engagement. Hell, even in the bridal room, I kept thinking that maybe you were going to stop me, tell me that you loved me and that you wanted to marry me. You had so many chances, Bradley. I gave you so many opportunities to catch up with me, and when I finally closed the door on you, you chose the worst possible moment to kick it down screaming?”

The hits against his chest grew weaker and weaker, until you were just clawing at his shirt, breaking down against his body. Bradley wasn’t sure when he had started crying, but silent tears were running down his cheeks as he held you. For a while, the both of you just stood there in silence, both in tears until you pushed yourself out of his arms, wiping the tears from your face with the sleeves of your sweatshirt.

Your eyes were rimmed red, and your skin was still glistening with tears, but to Bradley you have never looked more beautiful.

“You stink,” you said and Bradley let out a water laugh, his chest rumbling.

“Yeah, I walked here.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “From your house?”

“From my house.”

You hummed, biting on your lip. Bradley reached out to comb your messy hair back, his fingers getting tangled in the knots, before stroking his thumb over your cheek gently.

“Have you talked to Henry?”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah. He lost it. Said that I embarrassed him in front of his entire family and friends. I think he’s still getting drunk at the venue with his boys. My dad almost got in a fist fight with him.”

Bradley smiled at the thought of your father, barely 5’5, trying to take on Henry, who was almost six feet tall. He noticed how you left out how things were between you and Henry, though Bradley didn’t let himself get his hopes up too much.

“Is it too late?” he asked softly and your eyes found his, unshed tears on your lower lash line. “Am I too late?”

Sighing deeply, you dropped your gaze. “Do you want to get married?”

“I don’t. But I want to get married to you.”

Squawking, you gave him a shove and Bradley stumbled a few steps back, beaming at you. He knelt down in front of you and making you flush.

“Bradley, get up.”

“I am serious. I meant every word I said. If you’ll have me, I will marry the shit out of you. I will make you the best Mrs. Bradley Bradshaw,” Bradley said earnestly and you stared at him with wide eyes.

“... Okay then.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. I mean, I’m not getting younger and my other engagement just fell through-”

Bradley gave you a look, but he nosed along your ring finger, pressing a soft kiss on your skin before standing up, lifting you up with him. You laughed and there were still dried streaks of tears on your cheeks, there were so many obstacles he had to overcome, but he’d take it all, if it meant having you in the end.

author's note: whoop. sorry. this got angstier than I intended. anyways, you know the drill. SHARE! COMMENT! REBLOG!!

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw headcanon

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iwaizumis-bitch · 2 years ago

Text

boss!osamu headcanons

pairing; boss!osamu x female!worker reader

content warnings; this is japan mf so right hand driving, osamu is a bit of a reckless driver (oops), brief workplace harrassment, osamu is in his late 20’s, reader in her early 20’s, no smut but this is a nsfw blog so MDNI, osamu uses kansai dialect bc i said so (and he’s from hyōgo), it keeps changing pov whoops, i hope this is good!!!!!!!!

word count; 1,390

authors notes; oops this has been in my drafts for a while, MIGHT make a part two if enough people like this. reblogs are very appreciated <3

boss!osamu who looks to be in his late twenties, always greets you with a warm, tight lipped smile when you enter the kitchen through the back door on a weekday morning.

boss!osamu who wears solely fitted black tee’s, showing off his broad chest and muscular arms as he wraps the onigiris, his tongue poking out between his lips in concentration.

boss!osamu who rests his hands on his lower back as he leans back, stretching his back as a strangled groan leaves his lips at the relief which floods through his veins.

boss!osamu who wears black sweaters in the winter, but rolls his sleeves up to his elbows ten minutes into folding the nori over the rice triangles, exposing his defined forearms to all wandering eyes.

boss!osamu who has two silver cuffs around his upper helix, making sure they never get caught when he pulls his cap on his head. they glimmer in the light during autumn afternoons when the restaurant isn’t as busy and he’s able to sit at the register.

boss!osamu who tells you to just call him osamu one late shift a few months after you started working, as if you’d ever have to nerve to call him by his first name.

boss!osamu who watches you on with a fond grin on his face, admiring how you flitted around the kitchen to prepare the customer’s order which you’d just taken.

boss!osamu who saunters out front when he hears a loud voice complaining to speak to the owner, only to find you with an embarrassed look on your face and tears welling up in your eyes as you tried to explain why the coupon wasn’t valid to the angry man.

boss!osamu who calmly steps beside you, placing a reassuring hand on your waist as he tells you to ‘step back into the staffroom, i’ll deal with this’, in a low murmur, watching as you scurry off.

boss!osamu who comes and joins you a few minutes later, apologising that you had to deal with that, offering you a pack of tissues from his apron pocket to wipe away your tears and sniffles.

boss!osamu who tries to comfort you, failing awkwardly as he comes to the realization of how fucking pretty you look with rosy red cheeks and tears spilling from your lash line.

boss!osamu who tells you he'll give you a ride home, immediately shutting you down when you mention that you could just walk the 20 minute trek, telling you, ''my ma' taught me better than to let a pretty lady walk alone at night''.

boss!osamu who leaves one of his trusted senior chefs with the task of shutting down the kitchen, ushering you out back to the employee's parking lot, letting you step out first as his eyes flicker down to your ass, adorned by tight black denim jeans.

boss!osamu who pulls his car keys out of his pocket, unlocking the rolls-royce cullinan black badge in the corner of the carpark.

boss!osamu who opens the passenger door for you like it’s not a car worth at least 800,000 dollars, allowing you to sit on the cushiony leather seat with your small backpack on your lap.

boss!osamu who steps into the drivers side on the right, pulling his cap off of his head and throwing it somewhere at the back. he throws you a comforting grin as he starts the car up, pulling his seatbelt on and asking you ‘where‘ya located?’, in his thick country accent.

boss!osamu who doesn’t notice that you’re too flustered to answer, rather staring at his side profile as he reaches his arm behind your seat to get a view behind him. he reverses out of the parking spot, using the palm of his right hand to spin the wheel around, neck craning at an obscene angle as the car straightens up.

boss!osamu who chuckles at your hurried ‘huh?’, as you snap back into attention, thighs now squeezed together. he repeats himself, this time making eye contact with you.

‘um, it’s the apartment complex just behind the old skatepark, if you know where that is’, you say, turning to face forward as soon as the words leave your mouth.

osamu only nods in response, pulling his car out of the small car park and into the direction of your apartment.

you fiddle with your nails as a soft song you recognise as softcore by the neighbourhood plays in the background.

'i'm sorry 'bout the dickhead back there', osamu utters apologetically, his thick kansai accent slipping out.

'it's alright', you mutter, eyes flitting up to meet his for a second in the dashboard as you swallow nervously.

you can tell osamu wants to jab further, but he only bites his tongue and breathes out sharply.

your head feels dizzy as you continue to subtly check him out. the scent of his rich cologne is so strong against your tastebuds, and you can see the prominent vein on his jugular where he'd undoubtedly spritzed the opulent spray earlier in the day.

you couldn't wait to get home and gossip to your roommate about how unbelievably hot he was. at the thought of her, you quickly remembered how she must have been waiting for you outside of onigiri miya.

'shit', you muttered under your breath, quickly grabbing your phone from the front of the messenger bag and opening your text messages with her.

osamu raised a brow at your foul language, letting it slide when he sees the panicked look on your face.

'you alright?', he asks, eyes gazing to his left for a few moments to watch you desperately tap at your phone.

'yeah', you mumble out, furiously typing a frantic apology message to your friend. ‘just forget to tell my ride she doesn’t have to pick me up’.

osamu let’s out a short ‘ah’ in acknowledgement, but he can’t seem to tear his eyes away from you.

he’s never seen you your hair down, you obviously have to have it up for sanitary reasons in the kitchen but god, how he wanted to reach over and tuck it behind your ear just to see your flustered reaction.

the song on the radio switches to clocks by coldplay as he rounds the corner to your apartment building, tapping his fingers against the wheel to the catchy melody.

a small wave of disappointment washes over him as your apartment block comes into view, realising his alone time with you is almost. the metaphorical hourglass in his mind is almost full of sand at the bottom, and he wants to do something about it.

‘thank you for the ride home, boss’, you thank him, unclipping your seatbelt. ‘i really appreciate it’, you smile, at him briefly, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder.

‘could i get ya number?’

the words leave osamu’s mouth before he can fathom what he’s actually asking you for.

you pause your movements, heart bouncing around your chest as you turn to face him.

‘just in case, yanno? can’t have my best employee in any trouble’, he musters up as an excuse, face feeling hot. for gods sake, he was 28 and felt like he was 16 asking a girl out for the first time again.

‘yeah, sure’, you say, voice shaky as he hands you his phone. you quickly type in your phone number, leaving the contact name up to him.

he smiles gratefully as you hand it back, saving the number and tucking it back into his pocket.

‘so i’ll see ya tomorrow?’, he confirms, turning the dial on the radio down.

you open the car door, swinging your legs out of the vehicle as your turn back. ‘definitely. thanks again for the ride, boss’, you duck your head bashfully, stepping out of the car and giving him a small wave.

he waves back, driving off slowly as you step into the small foyer of your apartment entrance.

he doesn’t drive far, only pulling over down the side of the street, pulling his phone back out. the digits of your phone number burn through his corneas as he types out a quick message, adam’s apple bobbing.

‘you can call me osamu. boss is too formal. goodnight x’.

if only he could hear the small squeal of excitement you’d let out, standing in the elevator of the apartment block down the street.

#haikyuu x reader #osamu x reader #miya osamu x reader #osamu miya #haikyuu x you #osamu x you #female reader

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rina-writes · 3 years ago

Note

this would be rly funny actually but imagine jack having a hypersexual girlfriend like one day he just looks over at reader and her eyes are hooded over and he’s like fuck bc he doesn’t know if he has the stamina to keep up LMAO

This is a really fun idea LOL. Tbh I don’t think this is my best work. This was sitting in my drafts for a hot minute as I kept re-working it. But idk, there is something missing. I’m going to post it anyway though since the idea itself is nice. I think some other Jack writers are going to have fun with this too :D

Nymph

Warnings: Fem!reader, hypersexual!reader, suggestive, past sexual experiences referenced, mild fluff, not smutty but kinda 18+

Somehow, this conversation was more awkward than the time Jack told his friends he didn’t like deep throat. There were eight of them in the restaurant in total, everyone except for Druski was an official member of Jack’s collective, Private Garden. These were people Jack considered his brothers, including, his actual younger brother. They knew almost everything about him and yet conversations like these still seemed to render them silent. Druski opened his mouth to speak, blinking a few times, and then closed his mouth. He tried one more time before laughing to himself, shaking his head. “Damn, Jack got me speechless...”

They were all chilling in Sarpino’s Pizza in Atlanta, opting to eat inside to get a change of pace instead of ordering to the studio. The restaurant was typically a carry-out spot, but they had a high table that extended along the length of the back window. As frequent customers, they were allowed to pull the stools to create more of a curved shape so they could see each other and chat. As a result, there were two half-circles composed of the members of Private Garden and friends. One group was talking about a recent basketball game. The other had been halted to silence as Jack awkwardly ignored his girlfriend’s phone call.

If a guy was avoiding calls from his girlfriend, it was usually because he was cheating or ready to break up. While his friends would be disappointed in him, especially since they knew how well you two got along, they wouldn’t push into his business. However, Jack’s explanation blew their mind. Jack was probably the only man in the world who felt a surge of panic when his girlfriend called because he knew she wanted to have sex. So much so, he refused to even answer her.

“Can you explain what the actual problem is?” Shloob asked, sipping on his drink. “Because I think I lost it.”

Jack was now the one at a loss for words. A girl with a high sex drive seemed like a myth created and perpetuated by male fantasy. But here you were, his own little nymphomaniac and he was too focused on the “maniac” portion. It wasn’t that the sex was bad, it was some of the best he had in his life. It was the frequency. Three times a day minimum with several rounds during a single hookup was intense. You never needed a break either. He was pretty sure that you ran on water, iced coffee, and big dick energy.

“Look, y’all know how I’m rocking.” Jack sighed. “I like to get my dick wet probably a little more than the next guy. But damn. I am pretty sure I’m shooting blanks at this point. I’m surprised it’s even still getting up.”

That comment opened the flood gates of sarcastic responses. Jack could feel fury and envy radiating off of his friends who were a mix of newly single men and long term boyfriends. In other words, all guys who were currently having the opposite problem.

“Must be nice--”

“Congratulations--”

“I’m soooo happy for you.”

Jack rolled his eyes, putting up his hands in defense. “No, you don’t understand. She’s like a succubus or something.”

“I’m sorry...” Druski put up his hands to stop Jack right there. “...she’s a what?”

“A succubus. They’re like sex demons.” Jack explained.

“Why do you know the word for that?” Druski asked. “That’s not a normal word to know.”

“These are the things I look up at 2am at night when the demon is asleep. Do you understand me, brother?” Jack look genuinely distressed as he pressed a hand to his chest. “Don’t get me wrong. Y/n has a grip on my heart, but if I have to choose between her and my dick falling off...”

Jack’s phone started buzzing. This time it was a FaceTime call. He groaned inwardly. The contact photo he had for you was a picture from your first date. Jack had taken you on a picnic so you were wearing a floral sundress that covered your knees when you sat down. He stared at the photo and finally realized why it looked so strange. You had clothes on.

“Are you going to take that?” Urban asked after the group of men all stared at the phone in silence for a beat.

“Definitely not here...” Jack muttered.

He motioned for them to move so he could scoot out of his chair, the legs squeaking on the tile. He slid his phone of the table begrudgingly and walked to the back of the pizza parlor where there was a bathroom for “customers only.” He slipped inside and shut the door. He leaned against it, his body feeling heavy as he finally accepted the call.

“Are you avoiding me?” You asked, your face so close to the camera that he could only see your eyes and the top of your nose bridge.

“Yes...” Jack said in a deadpan voice. He had to resist smiling. You were so cute.

“Whyyyy?” Your voice was high pitched and sing-songy with a tinge of sadness.

He hated when you pulled that voice on him. He was basically putty in your hands at that point. He sighed and slipped his free hand in hair, running it through.

“Babe, you’re killing me here. I know you just want to f-ck. Can we just not do this back and forth tonight? I’m tapped out.”

You frowned, pulling your face away from the phone. You were standing in a location that was familiar to Jack, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He could see you were wearing a black jacket with the collar turned up.

“W-Well, I don’t!” You argued. “Want to have sex, that is. I just wanted to see what you were doing. Be a good girlfriend. That’s why I came to the studio. See?”

You extended your arm to allow your phone to pan around the background. You raised it high to show you in the studio room with no one else around, the belongings of Private Garden scattered across the room. Jack started to feel bad for ignoring you, thinking about how you were probably outside when he had been avoiding your calls. He was grateful for which ever security guard took pity on you and let you in. He would be sure to thank them later.

“I’m sorry, baby, I shouldn’t have assu--” Jack paused mid-sentence. “Y/n, what are you wearing?”

Your eyes widened slightly and you cleared your throat. You pulled the phone back to eye level quickly, realizing that you messed up. It was too late. Jack noticed the light pink ruffle that was peeking through your jacket. It was a piece of lingerie that you had bought recently. You had modeled the item for him and even Jack had to admit it didn’t take much for him to indulge in the action of taking it off of you. For that reason, it was seared into his brain. He easily recognized it from a single glance.

“Uhm...I really just came to say hi.” You doubled down. “So, once you come and give me a hug, I’ll just head back to the apartment. No funny business.”

Jack paused, smiling a bit. It was cute the way you avoided looking at the camera. In fact, this whole thing was kind of cute. Showing up to his workplace practically naked for a quickie? There were worst things a girl could do.

“You lying?” Jack asked, a grin spreading on his lips.

“Yeah...” You responded finally meeting his eyes through the phone.

Jack recognized that hooded, lustful expression. You were going to get what you wanted tonight. Judging from the tent developing in his pants, he was going to be capable of giving it to you too.

“Alright, Y/n. I’m at Sarpino’s. I’ll be there in 10 minutes. Do you want anything to eat--” You opened your mouth to say something but he cut you off. “And do not say my cock.” Jack warned, his dark blue eyes looking tired.

You gave a sheepish smile. “Then I’m good...”

He let out a loud sigh trying to hold back his smile. “Are you going to be a good girl until I get there? Or are you gonna keep blowing up my phone?”

“I’ll be good.” You reassured him, nodding quickly. “Just tell me how you want me, J, and I’ll do it.”

Jack smirked at you. For the first time that night, his eyes mirrored the lust in yours. “Come on, baby you know what I like. If you do well, I’ll reward you.”

You smiled, placing the phone down on a table. He could see you balancing it on some items so he could see you on the couch. You practically skipped over to it. You climbed on, resting your knees on the cushions. You were on all fours and put your butt up in the air.

“Like this?” You asked.

Before Jack could respond, you turned on your back. You extended your legs, revealing them to be bare, but your coat still covered most of you. You held your calves, pulling them toward your body to put yourself in a self-induced mating press.

“Or this?” You asked again, your breath heavy from moving around.

“Or maybe...”

Jack laughed, “Baby!” His voice was rich and happy. It made your heart swell, stopping you mid-motion. “I’m hanging up. Surprise me. And try not to scare anybody who maybe passing by. We do want to rent from there again, don’t we?”

“Yes, sir.” You nodded, obediently.

Jack ended the call on that note, knowing how much longer you could keep going once you pulled out the “sir.” He took a deep breath, did a once over of himself in the mirror and braced himself for the commentary as he walked out of the bathroom.

Jack would have loved to walk past all his friends without saying a word. However, he could feel their eyes glued to him. Even the second group who hadn’t be in on the conversation seemed to have been clued in now. He focused on the window the table was pressed against as he spoke, “So, uh, Y/n’s at the studio. I’m going to make sure she gets home okay.”

The barrage of comments came once again. It felt like the words barely lingered in the air before they were coming at him.

“Riiiight...”

“Come on, man!”

“I left my hoodie on the couch, can you at least fold it?”

Jack leaned his head back, opening his arms wide and signaling for them to keep it coming, a sh-t eating grin on his face. Of course, this action caused them to all start booing him This was his punishment. In about ten minutes, he was going to receive his reward. He wasn’t kidding before. He was burnt out. Some days he just wanted to cuddle or watch a movie without getting pounced on. He would definitely have to sit down and talk to you about cooling down on the sexy time. But, he guessed that conversation could wait until after he railed you on that couch.

#jack harlow #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #r-writes-fic

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jcwriting · 4 years ago

Text

Written in the Stars

summary ↬ being soulmates with a werewolf? pretty easy. being jungkook’s soulmate? the easiest thing in the world. there’s only one teensy tiny problem. he doesn’t want to fuck you.

pairing ↬ werewolf!jungkook x reader

genre ↬ soulmate!au, abo verse, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort (this is so fucking dramatic and for what)

word count ↬ 10.4k my hand slipped

warnings ↬ swearing, angst (but with a happy ending bc im a sappy bitch), jk is stupid in love (emphasis on stupid), mentions of violence (very brief and i don’t go into too much detail but just to warn yall), slight nsfw (sex is a big topic for like half of this but not sex is had...i know im shocked too), half of this is background info/setting up the story the other half is finally addressing the summary lolol, jk is kind of an asshole but he has reasons!!!!!

authors note ↬ hello lovelies! here’s a small little thing for you all (laughs in 10k word count). this has been sitting in my drafts for fucking ever and i just needed to get it out there and out of my hands. im thinking about writing a part two where the actual ~*/sex/*~ is had but im still on the fence about that. please let me know what you think! i literally crave your interactions so pls dont be shy,,,,,okay love you bye :)

(ps i was so close to naming this Rewrite the Stars but since this has absolutely nothing to do with The Greatest Showman i didn’t. but i was close,,,,so fucking close)

You always knew Jeon Jungkook was destined for great things.

It was written in the stars, your mother had told you after he had first stepped foot into your family-owned grocery store. Your mother didn’t have any special powers, she just had a thing for astrology. While you normally shrugged off her random proclamations about divine intervention and planetary alignments, you found that Jungkook was something you couldn’t ignore or chalk up as your mother’s latest tea leaf reading.

From the moment you set eyes on him you knew he was different. While your family held zero claim to any sort of mystical or magical inclinations, you were well aware of those who did. It was no secret that non-humans roamed the Earth in plain sight, even though it had taken humans eons to realize this. After years of savage wars and civil unrest, agreements had come into place and governing bodies were adjusted to accept the changes that had finally been made. But, this was all before your time. You were the generation that was born into the period of peace, the first children to not experience bloodshed before they could walk. The world you knew now was almost a complete one-eighty of what it had been.

Where before those who were not of human blood had to do everything they could to blend in, now could be free of the shadows. Your classrooms had both humans and non-humans in their rosters. Some of your teachers were hybrids. Curriculum expanded to teach humans about a world that had once been entirely unknown to them. One of your favorite teachers was a witch who regaled your tenth grade class with stories of goblin wars, wizard duels, and vampire covens. All tales that you had once thought were nothing but fiction were now anything but.

Which is why, the second Jeon Jungkook entered the grocery store that your parents owned and that you had worked at since you were old enough to speak in full sentences, you knew who he was. You didn’t even question it.

He was a werewolf. A powerful one. You could see it in the way he carried himself. The purposeful strides he took down the narrow aisles, the confidence in his broad shoulders. Humans weren’t nearly as sensitive as their hybrid counterparts but you also paid attention in your classes. Or, perhaps you were more aware than other humans. Never in your life did you have the issues other faced when meeting a non-human for the first time. You always knew who they were without them having to tell you. You just knew.

So, when Jeon Jungkook stepped up to your register with a bottle of water and some raw beef, you didn’t flinch. Didn’t bend under his dark gaze or shuffle your feet in an awkward attempt to break the silence. Instead, you flashed him your customer service smile and rang up his items. He didn’t say a word as he paid, barely sparing you a second glance as he strode out of the store.

“He’s going to be a great and powerful man,” your mother said in that feathery light voice of hers. “It was written in the stars.”

You couldn’t help but agree.

Jeon Jungkook came into your store everyday for the next month. He bought the same thing every time. A bottle of water and a package of raw beef. The only time he spared you any words was to say thank you or the occasional hello if the sun was shining. Usually, he was alone. Sometimes, he came with a few members of his pack. You liked those days. He smiled a little brighter and talked a little louder when they were around. Especially around Taehyung.

Then, after a month, he didn’t come in. Not for an entire week. From Monday to Sunday, you hadn’t seen a hide nor hair of him. A part of you was worried, so worried that you almost stopped Taehyung in the middle of the street to ask of Jungkook’s whereabouts before realizing how insane that made you look, the other part was chastising yourself for caring. Jeon Jungkook was a customer. Nothing more, nothing less.

The following Monday had come and you had finally stopped glancing at the sliding doors every five minutes. You no longer expected his commanding presence to rock your little world. Instead, you continued your day as if it had been any other. That was, until, Jeon Jungkook stepped through the entrance looking as if he was walking on air. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

“Did you have a good heat?” You asked when he stepped up to your register. Jungkook fumbled the water bottle he had been setting onto the conveyer belt before turning to stare at you.

“What did you just say?”

You didn’t shrink under his intense glare. “I was asking if you enjoyed your heat. Seems like you did.”

“How do you know I was in my rut?”

“Oh, is rut the correct terminology? Sorry, they always interchanged them in class, I was never sure what was appropriate.” You shrugged and rang up his items. “It was kind of obvious, though. You seemed pretty agitated about a week-and-a-half ago, then you disappear for a week, and now you’re back looking happier than ever. If it wasn’t your rut then I want to know where you went on vacation because that’s where I’m heading to next.”

Jungkook laughed. That almost made you jump out of your skin. You had never heard him laugh before. It was throaty, it was deep, and it was wonderful. “I’ll be sure to send you the link to the Airbnb.”

“And how do you plan on doing that?”

He smirked. “I’m here every day, aren’t I?”

You tilted your head as you accepted the cash he handed to you. “Clearly, you’re not that reliable.”

Jungkook laughed again. It was becoming your new favorite sound. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to appear flaky.”

“You’re forgiven,” you decided as you handed him the plastic bag of his purchases. Teasingly, you added, “just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

He flashed you a smile that showed off his sharpened canines. “Don’t worry, darling. I never make the same mistake twice.”

Jeon Jungkook kept his promise. He showed up everyday, like clockwork. Bought the same thing. Arrived at the same time. The only thing that changed was how he treated you. It wasn’t that he treated you badly before, he had always been polite. But now, he talked to you. He asked you questions and answered yours. More often than not, he laughed.

(It had become your favorite sound.)

For three months, this continued. The two of you had settled into a comfortable routine, something you relied on and expected. Until, he changed that.

Until, Jeon Jungkook asked you out on a date.

“What did you just say?”

“Are you free? Tonight?” You glanced around, almost expecting to see some sort of supermodel posing behind you to explain the absolute absurdity of the situation. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for the hidden cameras. I think I’m getting Punk’d.”

Jungkook sighed and placed both hands on the counter that separated the two of you. “Look at me.” You did. Slowly and warily, but you did. “Does it look like I’m lying to you?”

Narrowing your eyes, you regarded him carefully. He seemed serious. But, then again, do you ever really know someone? “I don’t know. I’ve never actually seen you lie before so I wouldn’t know the difference.”

“Fine. Ask me what color my shirt is.”

“What color is your shirt?”

“White,” he deadpanned. You glanced down at his chest. His shirt was black.

“Jungkook!”

He threw his head back and released a full bellied laugh. Even in your exasperation you couldn’t help but soften a little. “I’m sorry, darling. I couldn’t help myself.” Annoyed, you huffed and spun to face the cash register. Stabbing your finger onto the touchscreen, you ignored Jungkook’s obvious presence on the opposite side of the counter. Until his hand reached around the card reader and grasped a hold of your chin. The warmth of his fingers forced your head to turn to meet his.

“Come to dinner with me.” His voice was nothing but a rumble in his chest, his eyes so black and all-consuming you couldn’t do anything but agree with him. He seemed pleased by your response as his fingers tightened against your skin and a grateful smile flicked past his lips. His gaze darted down to your mouth and your breath froze in your chest.

“Are you going to kiss me?”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to?”

“No.” You tried to shake your head but his grip didn’t allow you much movement. He was taken aback by your answer, a small frown tugging at his mouth. You quickly backtracked to fix the situation. “I don’t want our first kiss to be in a grocery store. That’s a new low that I refuse to reach.”

Jungkook chuckled and tapped your chin gently. “Alright, darling. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Again, he kept his promise to you. He showed up at your parents house exactly at seven, wearing a button-down shirt and slacks. The tulips he had gotten for you was thrust into your hands the moment you opened the door. Flashing him a genuine smile, you hurried into the kitchen to set them in water while your mother grilled him on his birth time. You were quick to drag him away, practically throwing him towards the car as you waved goodbye.

“Sorry,” you sighed as Jungkook opened the passenger door for you. “She has a…thing for astrology. She’s probably creating your star map or whatever right now.”

“It’s okay,” he responded once he got into the drivers seat. “It’s sweet of her to care.”

You snorted. “She’s delusional is what she is.”

“So, you’re saying you don’t believe in astrology?”

“Do you?”

Jungkook shrugged as he pulled out of your dirt driveway. He looked so damn attractive behind the wheel it was honestly unfair. “Not really saying I do or don’t. All I know is that there are a lot of things out there that are out of our control. If believing in the stars and planets helps you gain some of that control back, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

“God, don’t talk like that in front of my mother. She’ll want to start dating you.”

He grinned and placed a hand on your knee. “Tell her I’m already taken.”

You didn’t get a chance to respond to that. Not that he didn’t give you one, it was just that you literally had nothing to say. With just one sentence he opened the floodgates of your brain and the amount of thoughts that were flying through your conscious was painful. Anxiety fluttered in your stomach and you pressed your lips together to keep you from word vomiting onto him. No, it was better to keep your mouth shut and let the moment pass.

By the time you reached the restaurant you were a trembling mess of nerves. Were you guys dating? You thought this was just a ‘testing the waters’ date, not a ‘you’re my girlfriend now’ date. Did you have to make it Facebook official? You hated that shit.

Jungkook didn’t comment on your obvious distress, though. He merely placed a hand on the small of your back, ignoring how you jerked in surprise, and led you into the quiet bistro. Nodding politely to the hostess who was practically panting at the sight of him (you honestly couldn’t blame her) and pulled out your chair for you. When he sat down, he started talking. Idle chat at first. Commenting on one of the dishes, asking about the college classes you were taking at your local university. Before you realized it, wine was in your glass and your shoulders were loose. Previous nerves forgotten, you lost yourself in Jungkook. You drank, you ate, you laughed, and genuinely enjoyed his company. Honestly, it was the best date you’d ever been on.

“I have to be honest with you,” Jungkook spoke after he finished his raw steak. “I have an ulterior motive for asking you here tonight.”

“Oh,” you mumbled around the shrimp you had just tossed in your mouth. “So…this isn’t a date?”

“No, it is,” Jungkook clarified quickly around a dry chuckle. He seemed…nervous. It put you on edge immediately. “This is definitely a date. And, also, more.”

“More? What, is this a proposal too?” You were joking. A 100% joking. But Jungkook was staring at you so seriously it made you panic. “Jungkook, if you get down on one knee here I swear-”

“I’m not proposing,” he assured you. “This is something more than that.”

“More?” You parroted. Jungkook sighed.

“Do you know what a true mate is?”

Right there, in that quaint little bistro, on a date with quite possibly the most untouchable man you’d ever met, he explained how you were irrevocably his. His true mate, his soulmate.

Jungkook explained everything in great detail, which you appreciated, because honestly, you had no words. He explained how when he was born, the witch who cared for him told his father that his future glared brightly ahead of him, but only when he met his other half. True mates were rare. Mating was common, the wolves in his pack could have multiple mates or a lifelong one, but true mates were destiny. Someone or something out there had forged the two of you together. You were essentially each others other half. He was made for you and you were made for him.

“But…aren’t true mates only for wolves? I thought it’s impossible for a human to be a true mate,” you asked in a shaky voice once Jungkook took a breath.

“It was supposed to be impossible. Until, I met you.” Jungkook stared at you with a sort of reverence that made your entire body blush. “I have no idea how you are. I’ve spent hours researching. I’ve consulted with members of my pack and others. No one knows why.”

“Are you sure, though? I mean…what if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not.” Jungkook shook his head. “I visited the witch right after I met you. She took one look at me and told me that I had finally found my true mate. She said she’d never seen a future so bright before.”

You had no words for that. For the first time in your life, you were speechless. Jungkook seemed to understand. He let you sit in silence as he paid for the bill and walked you out to the car. The drive back to your parents house was the same. You couldn’t speak. The shock rendered you stupid.

By the time Jungkook pulled into the driveway you still hadn’t spoken a word to each other. You stepped out of the car before he could open the door for you. Walking up to the porch steps in a trance, you didn’t hear him follow you until he clasped your wrist in his hand. Turning to face him, you were surprised to see his brown eyes so big. They practically sparkled in the moonlight and he looked so soft and sweet you nearly melted into the wood beneath your feet.

“Please,” he whispered. “Can you…just - are you okay? You’ve been so quiet. I’m worried I’ve scared you off or something.”

With that voice, it was impossible to deny him. So, you said the first thing that popped in your head. “Do we have to make it Facebook official?”

Jungkook stared at you before bursting into laughter. “Really? That’s all you have to say?”

You blushed and glanced down. “I’m just worried, that’s all. I can’t remember my Facebook password so even if you wanted to change it I don’t think it’ll work.”

“So that’s why you never accepted my friend request,” Jungkook teased. Before you could squeak out a response, he wrapped his arms around your waist and tugged you forward. You kept your arms crossed across your chest but let yourself fall against him.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you whined as you buried your face into his shoulder. He smelled so good, a mixture of pine and spice. “My brain hasn’t worked since you told me I’m yours, so bear with me.”

Jungkook chuckled and gently swayed you from side to side. “Does that mean you’re okay with this? All of this?”

Sighing, you lifted your head up and stepped away from him. Jungkook was not impressed and pulled you back to him. Your heart swelled in your chest and you wrapped your arms around his neck in consolation. “Honestly? I haven’t really processed anything. You’ve had your whole life to come to terms with this. I just found out thirty minutes ago that I’m someone’s soulmate. It’s a lot to take in.”

Jungkook nodded as he tapped his fingers against your hips. “I know. It’s a lot…I’m a lot. I just want you to know that you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to be with me. I won’t-”

Now it was your turn to burst into laughter. You couldn’t believe those words had left his mouth. It was easily the most absurd thing you’d ever heard. “Jungkook, I want to make something very clear. I have no problem being your true mate. That’s not the issue here. Well, there really isn’t an issue. It’s just…hard to believe, I guess. I have to process that this is my new reality.”

“Really?” Jungkook perked up and looked so fucking cute you couldn’t help but cup his cheeks. His skin was so warm despite the cold autumn air that surrounded you both. “You want to do this? Be with me? Be mine?” All you could do was nod. You were so overwhelmed with emotions. The shock was evident, but a piece of you was so happy. You felt whole.

Jungkook’s face split into a wide smile that caused his nose to scrunch up. He wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you around. Squealing, you slung your legs around his hips and held on. Normally, you’d rather die than show this much affection to someone. But, this was Jungkook. Your soulmate.

“So…what do we do now?” You asked once Jungkook set you down. “Is there, like, a ceremony or something?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted as he stared down at you. He had a hand against your jaw and was rubbing your cheek tenderly. “I really didn’t think I’d get this far.”

You scoffed at his ridiculousness. While recognizing you were Jungkook’s true mate was going to take some time, believing that he thought you’d deny him was utter nonsense. “What if…what if we date, first?” You suggested timidly. “I know that sounds kind of weird considering we’re supposed to be the loves of each others lives. But, I don’t really know you all that well. And, I think this is going to take sometime for me to get used to. Maybe we should date, get to know each other, and just learn how to be with one another.”

“Whatever you want,” Jungkook agreed. “We can do whatever you want. Just as long as I have you, I’m happy.”

Two years passed.

Two blissful, wonderful years. Two years of dating, two years of loving, two years of being Jeon Jungkook’s. It was everything you could’ve asked for and more. You had never felt so loved and cherished in your entire life. He respected you, he took care of you, and most importantly, he was there for you in every sense. Since the moment you met him, you hadn’t been alone. He hadn’t let you. Jungkook knew you better than you knew yourself.

And, it was the same for him. You were there for him when he transitioned into the leader of his pack. You were there when he took over the CEO position from his father and encouraged and supported him every step of the way. You let yourself be loved and in return he let you love him. It was wonderful.

Except, for one tiny thing.

While the emotional aspect of your relationship flourished and bloomed into something beautiful, the physical side remained stagnant. Make out sessions and heavy petting were a norm in your relationship. At first, it didn’t bother you. In fact, you loved that Jungkook was taking things so slow and so seriously. But, eventually, your needs began to grow. You found yourself wanting him in more ways than one, wants that only he could satisfy. Jungkook refused. Every time.

It wasn’t like he refused your every need. No, Jungkook was extremely attentive. When it came to himself, that’s when things got dicy. He had no problem spending hours between your legs, worshipping you until you were crying from the overstimulation. Yet, he wouldn’t let you anywhere near him. Not without lack of trying on your part. The minute your hands went down to his waistband, he pushed you away. Every time you tried to dip your mouth to the obvious bulge in his pants, he lifted you up and kissed you breathless until you forgot your name. It wasn’t until after a year of dating that he finally let you grind on his clothed cock. Even then, he held off until you finished and then walked out with quite possibly the worst case of blue balls. You hated that he did this to himself. The worst part was, you couldn’t understand why.

The one time you had brought it up to him it had resulted in the worst fight the two of you had ever gotten into. It was the only argument that was never really resolved. After the yelling and the tears, all you got out of Jungkook was that mating with a wolf was not pretty. It was extremely dangerous and he refused to put you in that kind of danger. End of discussion. No matter how hard you tried to persuade him or broach the subject, he shut it down. Hard. Eventually, you gave up.

He even spent his ruts away from you. Every three months, he left you for a week. You knew he had a place somewhere up in the mountains and you assumed that’s where he went. You had no idea. There was no point even asking to come along. You loved your boyfriend and didn’t want to purposely give him a heart attack. You hated it when he left. As much as you tried to hide it and convince him that you were just fine, he wasn’t stupid. Being away from him was tough. A piece of you was missing whenever he was gone. And you were only whole again when he returned.

This past week had been one of those weeks. He had left on Sunday for the mountains. He was agitated and clingy, how he normally was pre-rut. Jungkook wouldn’t let you leave his side and you spent most of the weekend on his lap or wrapped in his arms. Not that you minded. When he left your parents house on Sunday night, you’d had to coax him out of the door. Promising him that you’d be okay and that you’d see him next week. It wasn’t until several kisses later did Jungkook finally leave.

While you’d been doing this for two years, it never got easier. More manageable? Sure. But definitely not easier. All you could do was go through the motions. You went to work at the local bakery, came home and helped your mom with dinner, watched TV with your dad before going to bed. Taehyung and Jimin would visit often, threatened by Jungkook to keep you company. While you assured them it wasn’t necessary, you secretly didn’t mind. They made you laugh and made you temporarily forget your boyfriend was miles away from you. Sometimes, if you were lucky, he’d call you to tell you goodnight. But those times were rare. Normally, you didn’t hear from him until Friday or Saturday when he was finally coming out of his rut and returning to the world.

By the time Sunday rolled around, you were a jittery ball of nerves. Not in a bad sense. You were just excited. The anticipation killed you and it took all of your willpower to sit and wait for his text to tell you to come over. Your parents always left you alone on these Sundays, unable to deal with your hyperactiveness and constant fidgeting.

This Sunday was no different. You puttered around your room for the better part of the day. You spent the other part in the kitchen, baking like your life depended on it. Jungkook loved your cookies and you always made sure to come over with at least three batches after his ruts. He always said that was his second favorite part about coming home, after seeing you, of course.

You had just finished packaging the final batch in a glass cookie jar when your phone dinged. You didn’t have to read the message, you knew exactly what it said. Pure joy rushed through your system as you threw on your coat and shouted a hasty goodbye to your parents. Juggling the cookies and car keys, you sprinted to your car. The drive to Jungkook’s was thankfully not long. About ten minutes, as long as you didn’t hit any traffic on the main road. Luck was on your side, though, and you showed up at Jungkook’s house in eight minutes.

Taehyung’s car was in the driveway when you pulled up, which wasn’t odd. Although Jungkook owned the house, the members of his pack were almost always around. While most preferred to travel in their wolf forms, you knew Taehyung and Namjoon preferred cars. Something about being able to listen to their own music without comments from the peanut gallery. You didn’t really understand and didn’t really need to. You had just chalked it up as one of their many quirks.

Carrying the trays of cookies in both hands, you shut your car door with your foot before speed-walking up the stone walkway to Jungkook’s home. The screen door was shut, but the wooden door was swung wide open. You had just reached for the metal handle when you heard it.

A deep, threatening growl ripped through the peaceful quiet and froze you in place. You knew it was Jungkook. While you had only heard it once, you’d never forgotten it. It was when the two of you had attended a party and an alpha from a neighboring pack had cornered you in the hallway. Jungkook had found you cowered against the wall as the other alpha had caged you in. The sound that had left his chest had given you equal parts comfort and fear. Comfort, because he was there and you knew you were safe. Fear, because you could see in the way he bared his teeth and how his muscles vibrated, he had been furious and bloodthirsty.

That’s what you felt now, fear.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

From your vantage point in front of the screen door, you could see directly into the kitchen. Taehyung was leaning against the granite countertop and Jungkook was seated at the island. The tension was so thick you practically choked on it.

“Enough, Taehyung.”

“No,” Taehyung snapped, seeming just as angry as Jungkook. “I’m not dropping it. Not this time.”

“Yes, you will,” Jungkook snarled. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“Too fucking bad.” While Taehyung was also an alpha, he acted so much like a beta you never really noticed. Until now. “I’m not going to sit by and watch you do this to yourself anymore. Not spending your ruts correctly is only causing you more harm than good.”

“I’m doing things the way I want to, and it’s working-”

“The hell it is!” Jungkook growled at the interruption but Taehyung ignored him. “It’s not working, and you know it. Anyone with two fucking eyes knows it. It’s getting so bad that the pack is noticing, too. Even Namjoon has realized something is wrong, and he’s as oblivious as they come.”

“If they have a problem with me they can take it up with me.”

“No, they can’t. Because you won’t listen. Your head is so far up your ass you can’t even hear yourself anymore. What you’re doing right now is not working. Something needs to change.”

“Like what?” Jungkook spat.

“You know what,” Taehyung bit back. Jungkook was practically vibrating from rage. You knew you needed to go get someone, someone from the pack to calm the two of them down. Things were only escalating, but you couldn’t move. Your brain screamed at you to run but your legs were rooted in place. “That’s is what’s so frustrating, Jungkook. This, all of this, could be solved. She’s right there-”

“Don’t.” Jungkook stood up so fast the chair he sat on flew backwards and hit the wall with a resounding crack.

“Why?” Taehyung threw his arms up in the air. “Why not? I don’t get it-”

“Because I don’t want her!” Jungkook yelled, the force of it rang throughout the house. You had no idea who the she was that they were referring to. You assumed it was someone from the pack. It was well-known that wolves with human mates sometimes turned to other she-wolves to help with their ruts. You figured that’s what Jungkook did whenever he went away for a week. It had bothered you at first, but you knew he had his needs and that they were at a biological level. You refused to make him feel guilty or ashamed for taking care of himself.

“You don’t want her?” Taehyung was enraged. You could tell by the way he straightened his spine and unfurled himself to his full height. Jungkook bristled in response and the muscles in his back strained against the thin material of his shirt.

“No, I don’t!” Jungkook exploded. “What don’t you understand about that? I don’t want her around me. I don’t need her, I’m fine on my own. The thought of having her there when…God - it makes me physically ill.”

“She’s your girlfriend. Above all of that, your true mate. You’re seriously going to deny yourself of her, for what? Just because you don’t like having her around?”

Oh.

That’s when it hit you. They weren’t talking about some random she-wolf. They were talking about you. You were the one Jungkook didn’t want. You were the one Jungkook didn’t need. You were the one he didn’t like having around. As the weight of the words sunk into your mind, you felt your chest becoming tighter and tighter.

Then, you’re heart broke right in half. You dropped the container of cookies and didn’t flinch when it shattered against the wooden slats. The sound unstuck your feet from their position on the porch and your fight or flight system took over. Without a second thought, you turned on your heel and ran.

You didn’t know if anyone was behind you, you didn’t turn around to check. Hands fumbled for the car door as you threw yourself into the drivers side. Pain ricocheted throughout your chest cavity and you struggled to breathe. Your brain was blank, the only thing your mind did was move your body to get you somewhere safe. You had to leave and you had to leave now.

Miraculously, your fingers found your keys and inserted them into the ignition on the second try. A flutter of movement occurred to the left of you but your eyes didn’t let you look that way. Instead, they focused on the rearview mirror as you reversed out of the driveway. Your right hand found the gearshift and moved it to drive. Soon, you were tearing down the street as your ears refused to register the agonized howls that echoed behind as you kept staring forward. Adrenaline pumped through your system and your body shivered in response, the splash of hormones had created a blanket of fake calm over you. The emotions, the pain, the thoughts were swirling inside of you, ready to break free and drown you, but your brain wouldn’t allow it.

It wasn’t until you reached the end of your long driveway that you felt the original spike of adrenaline fade away. Your mother was in the front, tending to the flowers, and looked up when she saw your car fly into its usual spot. She stood up and her face twisted into a frown when you got out of your seat.

“Honey, your aura…it’s concerning.” The blanket was yanked away and the pain crashed over you.

You couldn’t say a word, all you could do was collapse in your mother's arms and cry, cry, cry.

It took you two days to calm down. The tears had stopped rolling and your shoulders no longer shook from trying to hold your sobs behind your teeth. Your mother hadn’t left your side, leaving your father to answer the door whenever someone knocked. The only person who did was Taehyung and Jimin. Jungkook never showed up.

Well, that was a lie.

Jungkook did show up every morning and night, without fail. But he never came to your doorstep. Instead, he was in the woods behind your house, patrolling, not daring to leave the protection of the forest. A part of you wondered if he was respecting your obvious need for space or if your mother had paid a witch to set up boundary lines that didn’t allow him to cross. Either way, you were grateful that you couldn’t see him. There was an incessant tugging in your heart to be near him but you staunchly ignored it, which would’ve been impossible if you saw his achingly beautiful face.

I don’t want her. I don’t need her. Having her there makes me physically ill. Those three sentences played in a constant loop in your head, like a horror movie you couldn’t escape from. You were the protagonist who couldn’t escape the maze, but the villain wasn’t kind enough to kill you off. No matter what you did, your brain wouldn’t stop repeating those three sentences. Your mother burned sage, she pressed crystals into your palms, she muttered ritual after ritual, but nothing worked.

You hated how affected you were. You had always told yourself that you would never be the girl who’d get so wrapped up in someone else they didn’t know who they were anymore. Independence was something you prided yourself on, but you seemed to be at a complete loss now. You couldn’t stop the waves of sadness and self-hatred at your depressed state. It was amazing how empty you felt yet so full of pain at the same time. Your mind and heart couldn’t seem to decide which hurt worse; your heart for having your soulmate so obviously reject you, or your brain for trying to make sense of the situation. When did this happen? How did this happen? How had you been so blind as to not see it?

“I don’t think we’re soulmates,” you rasped to your mom on the third morning. It had been the first words you had spoken to her since you had fell into her arms. She looked up from the bundle of herbs she was smoking.

“Why do you say that?”

You stared at your hands that had curled in on themselves. “I don’t make him happy. I-I never realized how uncomfortable I made him. I wish I had known. How did I miss it?”

Your mother tutted gently and gathered you in her arms. She smelled of lavender and wax. “This is good. I’m glad you’re letting yourself have this moment. Let’s sit in this and allow yourself to be embedded here.” But you didn’t want to have this moment. You didn’t want to have any moment and you’ve felt enough to last a lifetime. Instead, you rolled over, let sleep overtake you and tried to ignore the distant howling that rattled your window pane.

By nightfall of the fourth day, you were forced out of bed. Partly by choice, partly by force. Your parents had dipped out to run to the grocery store, despite your mother’s insistence that she could stay. You and your father managed to convince her to leave and you had gotten up to wave them goodbye. Sure, your heart was broken, but the least you could do was kiss them on the cheek before they left. You had turned around to shuffle into the kitchen to try and shovel something down your dry throat when a loud knock sounded at the front door. Hesitating, you carefully peeked through the kitchen window and saw Jimin on your front doorstep, dressed in all black.

Sighing, you stumbled over and pulled the door open. You figured you couldn’t avoid them for much longer. “Hey, Jimin.”

“Christ, you look like shit.”

You huffed out a laugh as Jimin stared at you in horror, not having the energy to be offended. You also knew, in a weird way, that this was Jimin’s way of caring for you. “Yeah. My mother’s covered all the mirrors in the house.”

Jimin nodded as he glanced at you from head to toe. “I want to ask if you’re okay but…” He gestured to your gaunt frame swaddled in a heavy sweatshirt and sweatpants. For the first time in two years, they were your own clothes, not Jungkook’s.

“I’m fine, Jimin,” you heaved a heavy sigh and leaned against the doorframe. “Do you want to come in? I think my mom boiled some tea not too long ago.”

Jimin shook his head. “Can’t. Jungkook would have a fit if I got that close to you right now. I’m already pushing my luck just by showing up.” He doesn’t care, you thought bitterly, and almost said it out loud but you caught yourself at the last second. Jimin wasn’t stupid, though. He knew what you were thinking. “Hey,” he murmured, eyes going soft, “are you ready to talk about it?”

“No.” You shook your head. A wave of sadness washed over you but the telltale prick of tears didn’t come.

Jimin understood. He tucked his hands into his pockets as he rocked back onto his heels. “Are you going to talk to him?”

Letting out a heavy breath, you crossed your arms over your chest. “I know I have to. I just…I just need time.”

“Take however long you need.”

It was another 48-hours before you finally snapped. While you had spent the majority of the two days that had passed to make yourself resemble a human being, you couldn’t focus. You couldn’t move on. Why?

Because Jungkook wouldn’t leave you alone.

His presence was constant. He circled your house every hour of ever day, the large shadow of him in wolf form darkened the trees behind your house. The howling had stopped but the pacing hadn’t. You hoped he was at least sleeping, but then you got annoyed at yourself for caring. You didn’t know why he was out there, it made no sense. Jungkook’s words were so different from his actions it made your head spin.

But, you needed to move on with your life. You had to. The only way it was going to happen was if Jungkook did too. It hurt. God, did it hurt. Yet, as sad and utterly pathetic as it sounded, you were used to the pain at this point, had resigned yourself to it. A part of you worried you wouldn’t know what to do without it.

Shaking off that depressing thought, you tugged on your rain boots and stepped outside for the first time in a week. The air was heavy with the promise of rain, the clouds low and gray. You tugged the hood up on your sweater to prevent your hair from completely frizzing out before you walked to down the back deck steps.

The backyard of your parents house was expansive. The home you had grown up in sat on top of a sloping hill that your mother had turned into her personal greenhouse. You stepped past rows of raised garden beds and pruned plants until you reached the line where the neatly mowed grass met the twisted ferns of the forest floor. As you had suspected, the ground was scorched with the evidence of past rituals. While your mother hadn’t out right admitted, you had figured someone had come and created a boundary line. It was obviously specific to Jungkook since Jimin and Taehyung were still able to visit. While your mother’s methods were extreme, you understood. As difficult as it was to move on with your life with Jungkook sequestered to the forest, you couldn’t imagine what it would’ve been like if he was within a few feet of you.

With a deep inhale, you sat down on the damp grass and waited. After a few minutes, you could hear the faint sounds of paws hitting the wet earth. The galloping got louder and louder until there was a momentary stretch of silence before it changed to footsteps.

When Jungkook emerged from the trees, you weren’t prepared. Although you knew you wouldn’t be, you still weren’t expecting it to hurt this bad. Your chest squeezed painfully at the first look of his broad form. Technically, it had been two weeks since you two had truly seen each other, the longest you’d ever gone. What hurt the most was how badly you longed for him. You wanted nothing more than to run straight into his arms, bury your face into his chest, and forget everything. Just forgive and give your heart what it wanted. But you remained firmly in place.

Jungkook looked as if he had seen a ghost. Which, to be fair, was probably true since you hadn’t seen the sun in seven days. His normally golden skin was pale and even from where you sat you could see the dark circles bruising under his eyes. Clearly, he hadn’t been sleeping. You hated that you noticed. You hated that you cared. He was dressed in all black and his chest strained against the material of his sweater. His hands were balled into tight fists at his side and the sight reminded you of why you were here.

“Hi.” Probably wasn’t the best start but it was the best you could do. Jungkook didn’t respond so you soldiered on. “I-I know you don’t want to be here, so I’ll make this quick. I just…wanted to apologize. I had no idea I made you so uncomfortable. I’m not sure how long you’ve felt this way about me, not that it really matters, but I wish you had told me sooner. Maybe things would’ve been easier for you, who knows.” You released a heavy sigh and tried to shove down the stone in your throat as you forced the next words out of your mouth. “But, all of that doesn’t matter anymore. I think I understand what you need, now. I know you loved me at one point, but I’m obviously not what you need anymore. And…t-that’s okay - I swear it is. All I want is for you to be happy, Jungkook. And I think, in order for that to happen, I need to move on. We both need to move on-”

“Stop it,” Jungkook broke in with a harsh voice that cut your sentence in half. “Stop talking.”

It felt like he had slapped you in the face. A wave of humiliation washed over you and you visibly flinched. Staggering to your feet, you locked your gaze onto your boots in an attempt to hide the tears that dripped down your nose. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, not expecting it to change anything. You began to turn away but Jungkook stopped you in your tracks, again.

“Wait, no - stop. Stop. Please…don’t go,” he pleaded. When you turned around, his eyes were frantic. Jungkook’s hand was raised from his side as if he thought about reaching out to you but something stopped him. His words were at war with one another and you were caught in the middle, at a loss for what he was trying so desperately to convey to you.

“Jungkook, I’m so confused.”

“I know. I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry.” Jungkook tucked his head into his hands before dropping down into a squat. “This is all wrong. This is all so wrong.”

You knew you should walk away. You had said your piece, it was time to move on, just as you had said. Yet, you couldn’t. It was as if your heart was tethered to him and your body couldn’t handle the pain of walking away. “Listen-”

“I don’t know what to do.” He cut you off but the bubbles of anger that had risen from being interrupted popped once you saw how lost he looked. His tattooed fingers threaded through his hair, allowing you to see the pure anguish that twisted his features. “Whenever I feel like this, I come to you. Because you always know what to do. Any situation, no matter what, you can handle it. It’s something I’ve always admired about you.”

The way he spoke to you now, so reverently and so full of awe, made your head spin. Nothing made sense. It was such a blatant contrast to the brutality that he had spat out a week ago. As much as you wanted to believe what he said now, those stupid words could not get out of your head. It was a constant reminder that never shut up.

“I don’t know what to do either,” you admitted in a quiet voice.

“Tell me,” Jungkook begged, as if he couldn’t and refused to comprehend what you had just told him. “Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Whatever you want from me, I’ll give you.”

You were shaking your head before he could finish. “There’s nothing you can do, Jungkook. Nothing.”

“Don’t say that.” He stared at you, horrified. “Don’t say that to me. Please, there has to be something.”

“What could there be?” You cried. Tears streamed down your cheeks now. “You said it yourself, being near me makes you sick. Why would I stay? Why would you want me to? I refuse to make you uncomfortable anymore - so that’s that.”

“It isn’t,” Jungkook argued back. “It can’t be. I-I can’t lose you, I can’t. I need to make this right, please just let me. Please.”

But, you were tired. You were so fucking tired. You were exhausted of the emotional rollercoaster that you were on that you just wanted to crawl away and hide. All the fight seeped out of you as your shoulders slumped forward. Jungkook saw this and the blood drained from his face. You were giving up, he could see it, and it scared the shit out of him.

“Jungkook, I need to go, okay? I-I can’t do this.”

“No!” Jungkook shouted and shot up to his feet. The pure panic that choked his voice brought on a fresh set of tears that you struggled to hold back. “Just let me explain, okay? I swear to God, after you hear what I have to say, if you still want me to, I’ll let you go. I won’t fight you on it. But, please let me tell you the truth. Give me a chance to make this right. You deserve that.”

You hesitated for a moment. Deep down, you knew you should let him talk. Not because you necessarily thought he deserved to, but because he was right. You did deserve the truth, no matter how much it broke your heart. With a heavy sigh and a quick swipe of your cheeks, you nodded. Once Jungkook was sure you weren’t going to leave, he began pacing. Looking every bit like the wild animal you knew him to be but never got to see.

“Mating with a werewolf is…brutal. It’s intense, it’s painful and it isn’t pretty. It’s essentially a breeding session where I use you as a vessel to fulfill my innate biological needs. It’s not romantic, it’s not gentle. Even for she-wolves it can be too much. The thought of subjecting you to something like that - that type of pain…I couldn’t fathom it. I don’t think you understand just how precious you are to me. The image of you being battered and bruised because of me, something I did…it tormented me, day and night.” He paused for a moment, the pained look in his eyes made you shiver. You hated that he had gone through all of this turmoil on his own, and you especially hated how you never made more of an effort to try and relieve him of it.

“I couldn’t do it. That’s partially the reason I waited so long to tell you that you were my true mate. I knew ruts were something I would never expose you to even though it’s such a huge part of my life, a wolf’s life.” Jungkook looked you straight in the eye, the intensity of his dark gaze took your breath away. “I know the practices other wolves partake in when their own heats or ruts arrive. I know you know them too. But, I need you to understand something. The moment you allowed me to be yours and vice versa, I haven’t had anyone else since. I swear on my life, I’ve spent every single one of my ruts alone. I wouldn’t and I won’t do that to you.”

“Isn’t that painful, though?” Your voice cracked but neither one of you acknowledged it. While your knowledge on ruts were expansive, having done plenty of research since being with Jungkook, you had obviously never experienced one.

“It’s manageable. It’s way more painful for a she-wolf to go through her heat alone than it is for a male.” Jungkook clenched and unclenched his fists as he resumed his pacing. “The worst part is being away from you. I’ve been going through ruts since puberty, I can handle them. But not being able to be with you for a whole week…I hated it. Still do. I dread that three month mark. And as time went on, I became more and more miserable. Being apart from you was almost unbearable but the other option…I never even allowed myself to consider it.

“It came to the point where the pack was noticing. I wasn’t getting the proper pheromonal release from my ruts and it was beginning to affect those around me. Taehyung has been on my ass for months now to get over myself and take you with me during my next rut. Each time I’d give him some excuse, but it was getting harder and harder to justify what I was doing. At first, I was convinced it was because I was protecting you. But you’ve been so understanding and so patient with me and my life, those excuses were becoming useless. Eventually, I think it was because I was protecting myself. I was - am - so scared. I’m terrified that I could hurt you when I’m like that. That I wouldn’t be able to notice or worse, ignored, if something happened to you. Living with that type of fear became debilitating. So, I just kept my mouth shut and kept you away from that part of me.”

Jungkook shook his head and chuckled humorlessly. “Now I know that was the worst possible thing I could do. That I was just hurting you more. What you walked into last Sunday was a culmination of my frustrations that I was refusing to deal with. While it’s not a valid reason, I’m well aware of that, I need you to know that what you heard was not the truth. It couldn’t be further from it. Because the truth is that I’m hopelessly in love with you and the thought of being without you hurts worse than I ever thought was possible.”

It wasn’t the first nor would it be the last time that Jungkook left you speechless. It took you a full minute to process what he had said. Jungkook granted you the silence although he became increasingly more agitated as time passed. His boots scuffed the dead leaves that littered the ground and his pacing led him closer to the ashes that lay before your feet. Then, he’d suddenly stalk off with a growl as he was forced to keep away.

“I-” you cleared your throat around the lump that had found a home there. “I had no idea. This whole time…I thought it was because you didn’t want me.”

“God, no.” Jungkook swore heavily as his muscles bunched and coiled beneath his clothes. “The - the fact that…you - fuck. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. That’s not it, that’s not it at all. You’re my dream girl, you’re the love of my life, and I want you every second of every day.”

Maybe it’s because you were emotionally drained and had no mental strength left. Maybe, you needed to hear those words from Jungkook more than you realized. Whatever the reason was, it wasn’t worth trying to figure out an explanation as you sunk to the ground and burst into tears.

Jungkook lost it across from you. Broken whines stained the air as he carded through his hair anxiously. He kept trying to get to you, to try to soothe you. But the boundary was unfortunately doing its job and each attempt was met with failure. Curses were spat out until eventually, he got as close as the boundary would let him and fell to his knees. He began spewing whatever came to mind first, unsure of what to do. All he knew was that you were crying because of him and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. He thought hearing you cry from your bedroom window was torture, but nothing could compare to hearing you break down in front of him. Nothing. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m sorry…please, I’m so sorry. I - don’t cry, darling. Please don’t. I’m so sorry I hurt you, I didn’t mean to, I swear.”

It wasn’t tears of heartbreak that leaked from your eyes. Instead, it was tears of relief. While your heart had wholly accepted his words as the truth, the logical part of you reminded yourself that the two of you had way more talking to do. This was far from over, but the relief of knowing that he loved you and he was yours…it was indescribable.

You finally lifted your head up and were shocked to find Jungkook’s cheeks glistening with moisture. Your only thought was to comfort him as you scrambled forward to do just that. Instead of feeling his smooth skin against the palm of your hand, you were blocked by what felt like a wall although nothing stood in your way. Frowning, you realized with a start that the boundary worked both ways. Jungkook let out a frustrated growl as he glared at the ashes that was stopping both of you from getting what you wanted. It was silent for a few moments until an idea popped into your head.

“Wait here,” you announced before jumping up and taking off for the house. Ignoring Jungkook’s distressed cry, you ran inside. You yanked your car keys off from their designated hook and quickly typed out a text to your parents to let them know where you were going before spinning around and sprinting back outside. Jungkook was where you left him, although he stumbled to his feet when he saw you reappear.

“I’m going to your house,” you announced, breathless. “No witch is stupid enough to go that far into werewolf territory. If you want to talk to me there, then follow me.”

Jungkook stared at you for a heartbeat until the words you spoke clicked. “Y-yeah. Yes. Okay. I’ll be there.”

With a curt nod, you ran to your car. For the first time in a week, a faint sprout of hope bloomed in your chest.

It was the longest and shortest ten minutes of your life. The drive to Jungkook’s seemed to last a lifetime but also was over within a blink of an eye. The tears had stopped flowing by the time you pulled your car into his driveway, but you felt the telltale prick in your eyes when you saw him burst from the trees. Your heart ached as his long legs ate up the distance between you two as you wrestled with your seatbelt and threw the car into park. By the time you freed yourself, he was at the hood of your car.

The two of you stared at each other for a few breathless moments. You weren’t sure who moved first, but it didn’t matter as you crashed into each other’s arms. The moment his searing warmth enveloped you, you dissolved into another puddle of sobs. The feeling of his thick arms banded across your back, his torso molded to yours, and his hair tickling your ear, felt so right. Another wave of crippling relief washed over you and you practically melted against Jungkook. But he held you up, just like he always had.

He leaned against the front bumper while his hands were everywhere. Cradling your head into his neck, smoothing over your hips, or running circles over your shoulders. He was crying, you could feel the tears dampening your hair. But you were soaking his shirt so no one was in any position to complain.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t,” Jungkook hissed fiercely as he squeezed you tighter. “Don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault, not in the slightest.”

“Kook,” you sighed and pulled your head back to get a good look at him. “It takes two to tango.”

“Not this time,” he argued. “You’ve put up with so much. You’re everything I could’ve asked for and more. It was my own fears that got in the way and created this mess. And I’m so sorry for that, darling. I’m so fucking sorry.”

You shushed him gently, running your thumbs over his cheeks to swipe at the dried tears. “I know you’re sorry. I believe you.”

Jungkook dipped his head further into your touch with a pleased rumble vibrating through his chest. He kissed your palm gently, sniffing at your wrist. It made you giggle. “Missed that,” Jungkook mumbled as he stared at you with stars in his eyes. “Missed you. Missed you so much.”

A fresh wave of tears cascaded down your cheeks. You were positive that you looked like a mess, hair in a knotted bun, face red and puffy and you kept sniffling every two seconds. But Jungkook looked at you as if you held the world in your hands. “Missed you too,” you murmured in return. “Please, next time, just talk to me. I may not have the answers you’re looking for all the time, but I’ll always be here to listen.”

“I know,” Jungkook whispered. “There won’t be a next time, promise. If I happen to be stupid enough to put us in this position again, I give you full permission to punch me in the face.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You lifted yourself onto your toes to brush your lips against his, dropping back down to your feet when his head chased after yours. “Or maybe I just won’t kiss you for a week.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened comically and he actually looked terrified. “I’d rather you just punched me in the face.” You tilted your head back and laughed. Jungkook tugged you closer and nosed your throat before peppering gentle kisses along the exposed skin. Sighing happily, you tilted your head to allow him better access and rested your cheek on his shoulder.

“I love you,” you said quietly. Jungkook froze for a split second before he sank against you. Squeaking in shock, you scrambled to brace yourself against the sudden weight pressing you towards the house.

“Say it again,” Jungkook pleaded. You couldn’t deny him. Dusting feather light kisses to the shell of his ear, you repeated those three words again, and again, and again. Each time you did, Jungkook held you a little tighter and cried a little harder.

Eventually, you’re murmured promises became softer and softer until the two of you just enjoyed each others presence. “C’mon,” you finally whispered as you started to lift yourself off of him. Jungkook growled and refused to let you move an inch farther. “Kook, come on. Let’s go inside. Your ass must be numb by now.”

“Don’t care,” he grumbled but he at least shuffled forward a bit more so that your combined weight wasn’t squashing his ass against your car.

“You might say that now, but you won’t be saying that later.”

Jungkook grunted at your logic but he at least raised his head and looked at you with the sweetest eyes. “Please tell me you’re staying.”

Giggling, you asked, “do you want me to?”

“Obviously,” he scoffed. “I want you here forever.” Jungkook tilted his head thoughtfully. “Actually, you should just move in with me.”

Christ, this boy was going to give you whiplash. You couldn’t help but laugh. “Jungkook, we just made up. The whole reason we were in this mess is because of poor communication. Don’t you think we should work on that first before anything else?”

“But…we could work on communication all the time if we’re together 24/7.” Despite his pout, you knew he wasn’t totally serious. Although you were sure it was going to come up again.

“Alright, you maniac,” you said fondly. “Take me to bed.” Jungkook’s chest rumbled happily as he lifted you up and wrapped your legs around his trim waist.

It wasn’t a long walk to his bedroom, but the exhaustion of the past week caught up to you and the gentle rocking of his steps lulled you into a serene state. Not quite asleep, but not quite awake either. You were aware when Jungkook placed you on his bed, practically engulfed in his scent. The last thing you remember before falling asleep was the words Jungkook pressed into your hair has he slid in behind you.

“Love you forever, my darling girl.”

LINKS:

masterlist

ao3

TAGLIST:

yzkyzkuniverse

3K notes · View notes

drawlfoy · 3 years ago

Text

4/1

alternate title: the 4 times i wanted to break up with draco malfoy. and the one time i did

masterlist request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: yes...almost a year late tho this has literally been sitting in my drafts since june

summary: draco malfoy is your boyfriend, but he has a funny way of showing it. the end is very “good for her” vibes.

WARNINGS: themes of gaslighting, emotional abuse, psychological abuse, implied sexual content, explicit language. my loves, this is my take on draco as a little bitch of a controlling and toxic bf. so plz keep this in mind whilst reading

a/n: so i’ve sat on this request for a hot min. idk why i stopped writing it but i’m pretty sure i stopped bc i was like damn i did not need to go this hard on a request and put my whole drawlfussy into making draco a horrible human being fjkd;salf. this is the most negative portrayal of him on my blog. i am legally obligated to tell u that if any of this draco’s behaviors or sayings remind you of your partner i implore you to leave him/her. not to wax philosophical or anything but my last relationship was not super great and i left without getting to say anything that i rlly wanted to say to them. the ending is a bit cathartic for me as it’s everything that i wish i had a chance to do :) i hope u enjoy.

wc: 5.6k

tags: @writeandtranslate @sycathorn-slush @gruffle1 @missmultifandommess @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell @yiamalfoy @crystalox @dracoismybabey @dreamcxtcherr @decaffeinated-turtle @marrymetheonott @felicityofbakerstreet @daedreamss @sycathorn-slush @writeandtranslate @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural @sycathorn-slush @big-galaxy-chaos

music recs:

burning pile - mother mother

no children - the mountain goats

i want you - mitski

jobless monday - mitski

drunk walk home - mitski

She couldn’t believe that she used to like how it felt.

Her relationship with Draco started like a fairytale, like the beginning of a great romantic story that would make even the most seasoned rom-com writer swoon. Soulmates weren’t real, not to her knowledge, but somehow he was perfect for her. There were too many things that added up--like how they had the same lucky numbers, the same type of wand, the same way that they used their quill as bookmarks when one wasn’t available, the way he always managed to finish her sentences and guess what she was thinking…

They had been perfect together. At least, perfect enough during the first 3 months that she only took the mentions of Astoria with a grain of salt. It didn’t hurt that he sweetened every comparison.

“Wow,” he’d say as he looked down at the gift she brought him from Hogsmeade one weekend when he wasn’t feeling well, “No one has ever made me feel this way before. I mean, Astoria would just leave me alone when I was sick. She never got me anything. Thank you. For making me feel...special, I guess.”

He’d always press the pad of his thumb into her dimple and let her try on his rings that were far too big for him, bringing up how Astoria would always insist on him shrinking them to fit her. It always gave Y/N a little bit of an uneasy feel, but if Draco said that they were over, they were over.

“Love, you have nothing to worry about,” he told her one day after she expressed her nervousness to him. “I told you. We’re completely over. Plus, she’s gone completely mad. Keeps sending me owls telling me how she can’t imagine herself with anyone else. It’s pathetic, really. You, on the other hand...well, I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”

She glowed up at him at the sound of this, filing away the note about Astoria owling him and instead basking in the joy of his praise. Y/N had never been with someone who saw her in such an amazing light. Draco Malfoy, the cold, sometimes cruel, aristocratic Slytherin somehow looked at her and decided that she was the best thing that had ever happened to him. And there was nothing that could feel as good as that.

It couldn’t get any better. So, naturally, it got worse.

Y/N understood that Draco and Astoria had to spend at least some time together--they were both on the Slytherin Quidditch team and their families were very close--but it seemed to be getting excessive.

“Listen, Y/N,” he said to her after she voiced her concerns once again. “There’s nothing going on between me and Astoria. You know that I can’t cut her off. She’s basically part of my family at this point.”

“I just don’t understand why you had to be alone in your room to study,” said Y/N, fighting back her tears as she sat cross-legged on Draco’s bed. “I don’t understand. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Her roommates were being loud and the common room was freezing,” he said as he searched for a sweatshirt in his drawer. “I know she’s worried about the Transfiguration exam. My family would disown me if they knew I didn’t offer my help and she failed.”

Y/N swallowed, allowing the silence to engulf them for a few seconds.

“Draco?”

“What’s up?” He didn’t even bother to look in her direction.

“What did you tell Astoria when she sent you those owls after we started dating?”

Draco ceased all movement for a second before resuming his search. “Er. I told her that if she didn’t respect our relationship we couldn’t be friends.”

“And did she? Respect our relationship?”

He stood up suddenly, the drawer slamming shut. “Obviously. We’re friends now, right? What’s your point?”

“Nothing,” said Y/N. Why was he being so defensive all of a sudden? “I just realized we never talked about that is all. I never told you how much it hurt when she sent me that owl after you first asked me out calling me a rebound fuck or whatever. I wanted to clear things up.”

“Oh,” he responded. “Sorry. Glad I could clarify things for you.”

“Thanks.”

He leaned over to desk to grab his shower caddy full of his shampoo and various other toiletries before pausing. “But you know what? I get why you might be concerned about Astoria, or whatever, but do you have any idea how much it hurts for you to imply that I’m a shitty enough person to cheat on you? Especially when you’re still talking to Potter?”

“Whoa,” said Y/N. “What? He told me that he got into his dream medical program. That was it. That was all it was. We’ve hardly spoken since you asked me--”

“And what does ‘hardly spoken’ mean?” he spat, glaring at her from the desk.

“As in we’ve had a few conversations,” said Y/N, staring down at her hands as her nails dug into her palms. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you. They were nothing. He just said hi to me in the library once.”

“Good to see you so invested still in his career opportunities,” Draco drawled.

“That’s not--”

“And now you’re going to deny it?” He scoffed. “Wow.”

She bit her lip as tears started coming to the surface. The guilt she felt for not telling Draco about the encounter in the library was quickly covering up any worry she had about Astoria. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say. I made a mistake, but I broke up with him a year ago.”

“I would be more inclined to take your apology seriously if you weren’t constantly trying to justify yourself,” he said. His composure was clearly regained.

“I’m just trying to explain. I’m sorry. I understand where you’re coming from and I shouldn’t have done that.”

He sighed, keeping his eyes locked on her for a few seconds. “Okay. I think I need a little time by myself. Do you mind?” He sidestepped away from the door, tilting his head towards it.

“Oh.” Y/N wasn’t sure what she was expecting--maybe a hug from him, maybe make-up sex--but whatever it was, it wasn’t this. “For what it’s worth, I really don’t think you’re a shitty person. Or that you’re cheating on me. I just get nervous sometimes. And insecure. I’m sorry. I love you more than anything.”

He let out another deep exhale. “Thanks for listening. I’ll let you know when I feel comfortable talking again.”

“Wait. Are we breaking up?” Y/N asked, her voice becoming shrill at the end.

He shrugged. “I’m not sure yet. I need to think.”

About what Y/N had to keep herself from saying to him.

And thus concluded their first real fight. Y/N went and cried herself to sleep in her room, mostly out of confusion, while, from what she heard after the end, Draco and Astoria were seen chatting away the night in the common room.

II.

The second time was much more blood-boiling. Looking back on it, Y/N wished that she could throttle him then and there. But only hindsight is 20/20.

After making up, Y/N brought Draco a bouquet of flowers that she knew were his favorite after the Quidditch Match. He’d grinned down at her, sweeping her off her feet and peppering kisses around her cheeks.

“Just who I wanted to see,” he crooned, setting her onto his bed and running his fingers through her hair.

“Can we nap?” she asked, leaning into his touch. He beamed down at her, pulling her into a hug once again. THIS was the Draco she knew--not the one that exploded at her in his room the week before. He’d just had a bad week.

“Of course.” He turned around to go fishing through his dresser again. She tried not to flinch at the memory of what conversation had ensued the last time she watched the scene before her. “Want a shirt?”

“Yeah.” She failed at holding back a giant grin. His shirts were always so soft and smelled like his cologne--a dead ringer for her Amortentia.

Draco turned and tossed her a sweatshirt from the top of his dresser as he quickly changed into sweatpants. Y/N laid back in his bed, examining his room in the dim light. It was moments like these that she’d be willing to give everything for. Her boyfriend’s bed was so, so soft and the sweatshirt was so cozy. She felt the bed dip to her side and arms fold around her, pulling her into Draco’s warm chest.

“I wish I could freeze this moment in time and live in it forever,” she whispered, letting her fingers trace up and down his chest as she felt it shake a bit with his laughter.

“Me too.”

From her position, she had a perfect vantage point to look at the corkboard hanging over his desk. Out of sheer curiosity, she squinted at the notes pinned to it. As far as she could see, all the notes had some incredible sentimental value, whether it be from his mother or an artifact from a special day of his. A grin stretched across her face as she wondered if she’d be able to find one of the many notes she’d written to him pinned up.

“What are you smiling about?” Draco teased, leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead.

“Noth--” the words died on her tongue as her eyes locked onto the final note. The tell-tale fancy cursive and signature was most certainly not hers. But she knew whose it was. The nausea that followed was immediate. Why was he saving notes from her?

She squinted a little harder to make out what it said in the low lighting.

“Dearest Draco,” it read, “My parents wanted me to send this fruit basket to you as a celebration for your final year at Hogwarts. I hope you know that we’ve always got your back. No matter what. Yours, Astoria.”

“Is something wrong?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowing. He looked so concerned that Y/N thought that maybe telling him wouldn’t ruin the moment.

“I’m looking at your corkboard,” she told him, not trusting her voice not to shake. “And I’m seeing that you kept a note that Astoria wrote to you after we started dating. And you don’t keep any of mine.”

The energy immediately shifted as he sat up. “Are you actually serious?”

“Yes?” said Y/N, more confused than anything. “Can we please talk about this?”

“You know how it makes me feel when you imply that I’m cheating on you,” he said.

“I never said--”

“Then why bring it up?” he asked. “Honestly, at least she was never this sensitive. At this point it seems like you’re trying to get me to cheat on you.”

“Oh my god,” she said, pulling his covers off her and sitting up. “You’re seriously going to say that after you know how insecure she makes me feel?”

“Listen, Y/N,” he began, “If you’re not the type of girl who can handle my friendship with Astoria then that’s okay. But if that’s a deal-breaker I need to know now.”

“No! No, I want to be with you,” said Y/N, feeling her hysteria rise. “I respect it! Little stuff like this worries me, though, and I just want your reassurance. That’s all I want from you.”

“I shouldn’t have to justify what I keep on a corkboard,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “She’s just a family friend. It meant a lot to me to hear that from her and her family. I don’t understand why you’re making such a big deal out of this. If you can’t deal with this, then just say so. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Oh.” Y/N swallowed, pulling her knees into her chest. Why was everything so confusing? When things were good, they were perfect. Astoria was just...a constant obstacle for her to overcome. But he was worth it. He was always worth it, and she would do anything it took to make things right again, even if it meant swallowing her feelings. “I’m sorry. I know I’m overreacting.”

He reached out to cup her cheek. “Hey. It’s okay. Thanks for telling me. I guess I’ll try and distance myself as much as I can. It might be hard though, you know. Just because of our family. I’m sorry if it’s not enough for you.”

“No, no, Draco.” The guilt flowed into her as she realized just how much of a problem she was causing over this. He never cared if she talked to any of her exes, and it wasn’t like she had strong family ties to them. “You don’t have to do that if it’s a hassle. I trust you. You’re enough for me as you are.”

I want to trust you she thought as she looked at the boy in front of her. I just don’t know if I can.

III.

The Yule Ball brought all sorts of festivities. Y/N felt her worries slip away as Draco asked her to the ball in extravagant fashion, filling her room with her favorite flowers and giving her a locket with their initials etched into it. His devotion to her was clear, and she felt it as he twirled her across the floor of the Great Hall.

“I’m so happy I got to spend this with you,” she whispered to him as she rested her head on his shoulder while they swayed. “And I’m so excited to spend the holidays together.”

“Believe me, me too,” he whispered back, spreading out his fingers on her back to hold her a bit closer. “You look beautiful.”

“I couldn’t let you blow me out of the water now, could I?” she teased, relishing in the feel of his smile forming.

“You mean the world to me, I hope you know that,” he said a few beats later. “I’d do anything for you.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“Of course, love.” He pulled away to frown down at her, his eyebrow slightly furrowed. “Is something wrong?”

Y/N sighed. She couldn’t pretend the be the perfect girlfriend any longer when this was eating her alive. “It’s just...I saw you and Astoria together at the Three Broomsticks.”

All the softness immediately disappeared from Draco’s face. “We were just going over Quidditch strategy for our next game.”

“But why with her?” she asked. “She’s two years younger. Why don’t I ever see you talking to Pucey? He’s the one who’s going to be captain when you leave.”

“She wanted extra coaching.” His voice was flat. “You know my family will be angry with me if I say no to that.”

“But we were supposed to go on a date that day!” she exclaimed.

They’d stopped dancing, and Draco finally let go of her and stepped back. “It was a family thing. Don’t make this a bigger deal than it actually is. You always do this. Can you please just let this be a good night for us?”

“Excuse me?” she hissed, feeling her cheeks grow red. “Maybe you shouldn’t blow off your girlfriend to go out for drinks with your ex.”

“I told you,” he began waspishly, “She’s a family friend. She’s hardly my ex. Either way, you’re being completely ridiculous and you’re embarrassing me. I think it’s best that we spend the holidays separately.”

And with that, he left her alone in the middle of the dance floor.

IV.

Dearest Y/N,

I’ve been thinking of you this holiday season. I really miss you. It seems like it’s been forever since I’ve gotten to see you. I’m sorry that we weren’t able to spend the holidays together. At the time, I thought I needed the space, but now I really regret it. I know I’ve been reactive lately. I’ve just been stressed. I’ve been such a shitty boyfriend to you, making you worry like this. I love you, Y/N, and I can’t wait to see you this January. There’s a package with this letter. I hope it made it to you. Wear it and think of me, will you, love? I annotated a few of the books I sent you, too. I am seeing if I can come visit this weekend if my schedule allows it.

Yours forever, Draco

Y/N sighed as she ran her fingernail over the stones of the choker he’d given her. The diamonds glittered under her fingertips. It was a beautiful, beautiful gift. He had included a few wizarding books—one on herbology, something he knew she liked, and another contemporary fiction book that all of her friends were talking about. She glowed at the thought that he was paying such close attention to what she liked. This was what made all the pain worth it, she thought, as she gazed lovingly at the note in her hands. He loved her. He was right, she had nothing to worry about. She was choosing to trust him, like you did in any healthy relationship.

Seeing him later that week made her heart skip a beat. Her parents had left for dinner, leaving her and Draco to have some privacy. She leapt into his arms moments after he’d stepped out of the Floo.

“Hiiii,” she said, pressing kisses into his neck. She could feel his smile.

“Hiii,” he echoed. “How have you been?”

“I’ve missed you more than anything,” she admitted, bouncing once on her bed as she sat down. “I have so much to tell you. I want to hear all about your winter break first, though. How was Christmas?”

“It went well,” he said, walking over to her bookshelf. “It was great to catch up with Edward. He and Father argued the entire night over the credibility of Rita Skeeter’s work—”

“Wait,” she said, sitting up ramrod straight. He turned to her, his eyebrows raised. “Edward? Like, Edward Greengrass?”

“Yeah, the Greengrasses were there,” he said slowly, a frown forming on his face.

“I didn’t know about that. Why didn’t you tell me?”

He sighed. “Love, I did tell you. I guess you weren’t listening. Or you just don’t remember. Your memory has never been the best, has it?”

Y/N swallowed, racking her brain for any remembrance of that mention. She came up with nothing. Had she really just…forgotten? No, she wouldn’t have forgotten about that. “Oh. I guess I don’t remember.”

Draco’s smile was strained. “I see the books I sent you on your bookshelf already. Did you get through them that fast? I know you only put them there if they’re finished.”

“Oh, no, I’m still getting around to them,” she said, reassurance flooding her once again at the feeling of being recognized.

“Oh.” Draco went silent.

“Is there something wrong, love?” she asked, leaning forward so she could see his face better. He was wearing a deadly serious expression.

“No, it’s nothing. It’s fine,” he said, running his fingers through his hair. “I just…I spent a lot of time annotating those for you. I just hope you actually get around to reading them. I know you have a habit of just forgetting about them.”

“No, Draco, they’re on my list!” she said, trying desperately to lighten the mood. “I promise I’ll get around to reading them. They made my week. Thank you.”

“If you say so.”

“Anyway,” rambled Y/N, “I’ve been dying to tell you something. I’ve come to the decision that I want my concentration to be on Potions and Arithmancy. I wrote to Snape over the break, and he told me that my plan would be excellent if I wanted to go into healing. Isn’t that great?”

“Yeah, yeah, definitely.”

“You don’t seem like you agree.”

Draco dropped his hands to his side in a dramatic swoop. “I’m sorry. I’ll try and be more enthusiastic. It just seems like a lot for you, you know? Like, you’re a History girl and you always have been. Why do you want to go into healing? You don’t have the skills for that. Most future healers start helping Madame Pomfrey by second year.”

“I know I don’t have experience in healing,” she said, deflated. “But Snape told me that my grades were exemplary and that he’d be willing to write a stellar recommendation to the program of my choice—”

“Ok, ok, I’ll shut up,” he said, holding his hands up in a surrender. “I’m happy for you, doll. Even if I don’t agree with your career choices.”

Y/N’s mouth felt dry as he came down to kiss her forehead. Something felt horribly wrong within her, like she was homesick. But she was in her childhood bedroom, with the love of her life—there was nowhere more like home.

She had to be dreaming. She had to be dreaming. There was no other reason as to why she could clearly see Draco and Astoria studying together in the library, Astoria giggling while Draco threaded his fingers through her hair. Especially after Draco had owled her, telling her he didn’t feel well enough to walk around the school grounds with her like they’d planned.

Fueled by nothing but rage, she approached the table. “Draco,” she said, nodding a greeting to Astoria. The girl seemed unbothered by her presence, turning to give Draco the slightest eyebrow raise.

“Y/N, how good to see you,” she said, sending her a little wave.

“Do you think you could go? I need to speak to Draco. Alone.”

They shared glances. “I’m sorry love, we really need to get this project done for her Runes class,” explained Draco.

“She can do it herself, I’m sure,” she said.

“Sorry, doll, but she can’t. I gave her my word that I would help her.”

“Like you gave me your word that we’d go on a walk together?”

He shrugged. “I caught a chill. I didn’t think I could handle the winter air. I’ll come by your room after. It’ll only be a bit longer.”

Stunned, Y/N stared at him. Draco gazed back, his face devoid of any concern. “Er, right then. I’ll see you later.”

The homesickness was coming back, full force, like she wanted to vomit. But more pronounced than that was her fury. How dare he lie and cancel on her? How dare he snap at her for having one conversation with Harry when he turned around and did that with Astoria?

Y/N skipped dinner waiting for Draco to come by her room. One hour passed, then two, then three. It was just past curfew when a knock finally sounded at her door.

“Come in,” she said. Draco opened the door, stepping in.

“Sorry for the wait,” he said briskly, setting his satchel on her chair. It occurred to her that he hadn’t even had the chance to stop by his room to drop his things off. He’d been with Astoria the entire time. “We ran into a bit of a snag with the—”

“I don’t care about the fucking project, Draco,” she said, her voice cracking. “I need to talk to you about this. I was okay with you being friends with Astoria. I was fine with you keeping contact. But I’m not okay with you lying to me—”

“I have never lied to you about Astoria. Stop overreacting,” he snapped. It was like another person had possessed the sweet Draco that was her boyfriend, any semblance of affection leaving his expression. “Don’t you ever try to blame me for the fact that you have a piss poor memory.”

“I don’t understand!” Y/N cried out. “I don’t understand why you insist on prioritizing Astoria over me but then blow up when I so much as look at Harry—”

“That’s different,” he interrupted. “You know it’s different. We’ve been enemies for years. You have to understand—”

“I’ve tried to understand,” she said. “I’ve tried so, so hard. You don’t even know how much I’ve tried to twist these situations around to make sense. But I’m tired of it, Draco. I wish I could just trust you. I can’t.”

He scoffed. “Are you seriously going to break up with me over this? That’s ridiculous and you know it.”

“Of course I’m not—”

“You are so ungrateful sometimes,” he continued, cutting her off. “Most people wouldn’t put up with this kind of bullshit accusatory behavior from their partner. Grow up, Y/N.”

“Ok.” She looked down at her palms, interlacing her fingers together for the much needed strength. “Ok. If I’m so ungrateful and such a pain to be around, then you don’t have to be anymore. Consider it done. We’re over.”

Draco froze. “Um, sorry. What did you just say?”

“I said,” she began, fighting back the tears that were welling up in her eyes, “We’re over. I can’t do this anymore.”

His mouth shut, his face void of any further emotion. “Oh. Well, I think you can. You just don’t want to.”

“What I want is for you to leave,” said Y/N. “I want to go to bed.”

He spared her one last glance before yanking his satchel off the chair and slamming her door shut.

She wasn’t sure what she expected from Draco. Maybe a bouquet of flowers, an elaborate apology, or a knock at her door at 3am to reveal a sobbing and heartbroken version of her now ex-boyfriend. What she wasn’t expecting was nothing except for the sight of Draco and Astoria together everywhere. He didn’t give her a second glance, just flouncing past her.

That was all before Astoria met half-Veela Beauxbatons transfer Hugo and left him in the dust. There was a sort of morbid pleasure in seeing Draco sit at the breakfast table alone, glowering over his toast.

“Y/N,” said a familiar voice behind her.

“Oh, hi, Harry,” said Y/N, turning around on the bench to see him. Harry looked somewhat concerned, his messy brown hair looking more ruffled than usual.

“Can I sit?”

“Yeah, yeah sure.” Y/N couldn’t help but feel the pang of guilt at seeing one of her oldest friends sit next to her for the first time in almost a year. After she began to date Draco, she tried her best to avoid Harry to keep Draco from getting upset. She wasn’t quite sure how to even begin apologizing for what had happened.

“I heard about you and Draco,” began Harry, picking a crumpet off of her plate and buttering it. The familiar, friendly motion almost brought tears to her eyes. “I want to say I’m sorry. I know we haven’t been the closest lately, but I noticed you become a lot more reserved while you were with him. I don’t know the extent of which he caused that, but I hope you’re feeling better now.”

To her horror, a sob began to climb in her throat. Without knowing what else to do, she launched herself forward, throwing his arms around his neck. “I’m so sorry, Harry,” she mumbled into his shoulder. “I’m sorry for cutting you off. Draco—”

“I assumed he had something to do with it,” said Harry, patting her back awkwardly. “It’s really okay. You’re here now, yeah? Let’s start over. Friends again?”

“Let’s.” She sat back up, wiped her eyes, and managed a watery smile. “I missed you, Harry. You’ve always been my best friend. I’m sorry I haven’t been yours lately.”

“For our debut back into society, do you want me to hex Malfoy’s balls off or something?” asked Harry casually, spreading jam onto her crumpet.

“Harry…”

“Now that I’m into the healer program, he can pay me to fix them in a couple of years,” he said.

“Did I tell you?” She grinned at him. The sick, homesick curdling in her stomach had vanished. “I think I want to apply to the healer program, too.”

Harry’s smile got even wider. “No way. You’d be great at that, Y/N. Snape likes you, too. You’ll definitely get in.”

Harry had been right. A month after she had ended things with Draco, her acceptance letter had come. It was all her friends could talk about. News apparently had gotten around to her Slytherin friends, too, as that night she heard a knock at her door.

“Come in,” she said.

Draco stepped in, looking somewhat uncomfortable. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi, Draco. Can I help you?’ She thought that when she saw him again, she’d feel regret. Looking at him now, though, she felt nothing.

He cleared his throat. “I just wanted to say congratulations on your acceptance to the healer program. I knew you could do it. I’ve always believed in you, you know.”

She watched, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Thanks.”

“Also, I wanted to give you this.” Draco set a box down onto the desk. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, love, and I’ve realized that what I did wasn’t right. I didn’t listen to you and I regret that every day. You’re amazing. You’ve always been too good for me, which is why I feel so unworthy asking this of you.”

“Asking what?”

“I want to get back together,” he said, crossing the expanse of her room in a few steps and clasping her hands. “I can’t imagine being with anyone else. You’re the one for me, and I know that you feel the same way.”

She pulled away from him. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because our relationship wasn’t healthy, Draco. You weren’t good to me.”

“I…” He ran his fingers through his hair. He was stressed. He hadn’t prepared this far, Y/N noted. “I know, love. And I’m sorry about that. But when things were good they were great, weren’t they? Remember how great things were for the first few months? We could have that again.”

“You hurt me, Draco. That’s a risk I’m not willing to take again.”

“But think of how amazing we were together,” he said. “And we have a chance to do that again. But only if you give me another chance. What do you think?”

“What do I think?” Y/N stared at him for a few moments. “I think the trajectory of our relationship was concerning. It was controlling, unhealthy, and borderline abusive. I would have to be mad to put myself through that again.”

“But I want to change for you. You know me, love. You know I’m a good person. I want to be better for you. I’m capable of it. I’ll cut Astoria off. I won’t ever speak to her again.”

“I don’t think you’re a good person,” said Y/N, her voice cracking. “I didn’t realize that until after I ended things, but you’re not. If you really were one, you wouldn’t need me to end things before you had the magical ability to defy your parents’ wishes and cut off Astoria. No, if you had loved me independently of what I offered you, you wouldn’t have been so peeved by the parts of me that weren’t of your choosing. A good person wouldn’t treat me like that. You did.”

He scoffed. “Is that seriously how you see me?”

“Yes. Unlike you, I don’t lie.”

Draco straightened before grabbing the jewelry box off of her desk. “Forget it. I don’t know why I bothered. You were always a rebound. You know that, right?”

“I’m sorry for you,” she said suddenly.

“I’m sorry for you,” he fired back. “Imagine how pathetic it is to be someone’s rebound.”

“No, that’s not why I’m sorry.” She met his eyes. “Draco, the 6 months I spent with you were the most unhappy months of my life. You sucked the life out of me. But I got to leave. I only had to waste 6 months of my life dealing with your fuckery and your inability to genuinely love other people. But you? You’re stuck with it. You have to live with that for the rest of your life. So, yeah, I’m sorry. It must be sad to be you.”

He slammed her door.

Time passed quickly. Her short relationship with Draco drifted into the past. By graduation, she was so focused on planning for the healer program that he hardly ever crossed her mind. But that summer, when the annotated book that he’d written her was left on her bed, halfway finished as she’d left it in January, a sort of bittersweet anger washed over her. She opened it up to the very last page to see a long letter he’d written her that she’d never read, depicting how much he’d adored her and how much he’d loved her.

She sat on her bed, the annotated book pressed into her chest as she stared up at the ceiling. Did he ever even mean those words? Were they just hollow? Was she ever more than just a rebound fuck?

But beyond all of that anger she felt for him, there was always an underlying sense of love. It didn’t matter how he felt. What mattered was that she had truly loved him.

Her fireplace roared to life as it was charmed to at 10 every evening, making her jump. After one last glance at the novel in her hands, she tossed it into the flame.

She remained awake, watching until every page was reduced to ash. Then she slept.

final a/n: ooh! i almost forgot to mention. shoutout to my ex gf, the only woman i would ever consider calling a c*nt. i wish i’d had the chance to! this one goes out to u girl, thank u for being my muse <3

#draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #draco x you #draco malfoy x you #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x oc #draco malfoy x oc

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