#To Be Loved

[taevbears]

To Be Loved - Holiday Special

As long as there's Christmas, I truly believe That hope is the greatest of gifts we'll receive

⤑ pairing: namjoon x reader ⤑ genre: hybrid au, romance, hurt/comfort ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 6.2k ⤑ warnings: slight angst, slight description of violence, miscommunication lmao, implied smut, mentions of everyone's favorite asshole (kangdae) ⤑ note: happy 2025! i hope BTS' reunion year has been treating you all well so far! i meant to post this last month, but lol. 2024 was ... a year for me. anyway, i miss this couple and i hope y'all enjoy this belated Christmas gift from me!

Masterlist

It’s a cold winter’s night.

Frosted windows show a picturesque snow-covered wonderland outside the old manor. White ice blankets the forest ground and evergreen treetops, freshly-fallen and undisrupted by the nocturnal wildlife. Beneath the silver glow of moonlight is a hushed silence and a serene stillness, as if time itself has frozen over to take in the captivating beauty of the night.

A shiver runs down your back, and you pull the blanket around your shoulders a little tighter around you. From the tall windows of the west wing, you’re gifted with breathtaking sights of quiet and gentle snowfall, sunsets that paint the skies hues of orange, red, and gold, and dark clouds that obscure the moonlight as night falls and storms roll in.

Seven months ago, you ran away from your abusive boyfriend and arrived at this old and desolated manor. Moss and vines grow upon the sturdy structure, and an overgrown yard lies beyond the iron gate that leads up to it. The floors creak loudly with your careful steps, the wallpaper is peeling and faded in your room, and the antique furniture is chipped and worn. Yet, you’ve quickly learned that this manor houses something very special.

Hybrids.

Creatures that are both human and animal, but are outcasted from your society and treated like second-hand citizens. Because they’re different. Because they’re not fully human. Because they’re partly beasts, they’re treated like monsters.

Ironically, while you were living in your small, provincial town, you felt just as outcasted. You’re pretty, therefore, you had to be Kangdae’s. He treated you like a doll to puppet around and break, and everyone told you how lucky you are. Because he was wealthy and handsome. Because you look good together. Because what more is there to love?

But Kangdae never loved you. And it took coming here, to this old manor, for you to realize that.

At first, you only intended to stay until the bad storm passes. But soon, the exotic hybrids living here started to get used to you. Over time, the old manor started to feel like home. And eventually, you started to realize what love is really like.

Your gaze lifts to above the treelines, and you feel like a child by the window, waiting to catch a glimpse of Santa and his sleigh. And as you muse the thought, you spot something in the sky – a flash of blue-silver.

Soon, a long shadow circles around the manor, and a celestial beast crawls into the exposed opening on the upper-corner of the room. Iridescent scales shimmer with the moonlight, covering his serpent-like body. Long, sharp talons land on the stone floor. Whiskers and beard are dusted with fresh snow. The indigo-colored eyes easily spot you staring up at him in awe.

Truly, he’s the most beautiful creature you’ve ever seen. You have to wonder why he’d ever think of himself anything less.

For half a year, the beast kept its identity a secret, masking his form and forbidding you from entering the west wing. Had you wandered here before, you would’ve found the gold and gems he secretly stuffed in his drawers, or would’ve caught him basking under the morning sun’s rays while he sleeps. You would've seen the traces of his violent anguish, from the scratches on the walls and holes on the floor, and he’d quietly admit it was often caused by trying to suppress this form.

Now, he has nothing to hide.

“Welcome home,” you say to the creature before you.

Then, on purpose, the beast wiggles and shakes off the wet snow from his scales.

“Ah, Namjoon!” you squeal, shutting your eyes and using your blanket to shield you from the drops of water. A playful chuckle follows, and in his human form, Namjoon wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you close.

“What are you doing here? You know you’re not allowed,” he reminds you, quirking an eyebrow. All traces of the beast you had seen before are gone in this form, save for the indigo hue in his eyes. “Jimin will be upset if you catch a cold again.”

The giant hole allows Namjoon to quickly enter and exit the manor in his other form, but it also allows the freezing air and snow to come in. It makes this particular area more dangerous than the rest of the manor, weathered and damaged by the elements. Even with a blanket wrapped around you, you’re still trembling.

“What can I say? I really wanted to see you,” you admit shyly.

It’s only been a month since the night you told Namjoon you loved him. Everything still feels so new – that feeling of love and being loved in return.

Despite the freezing temperatures and the slight dampness caught in his hair, he stands before you, unaffected and incredibly warm. He presses his forehead against yours, and his voice is low as he murmurs, “I came as soon as I could.”

You’re not sure who initiates the kiss first, but something about it just feels right. The feel of his thick lips against your own. The way his hand cups your face with a gentle firmness as he starts to walk you away from the windows and toward his bed. The heat of the kiss against the frost-bitten air makes you want more.

But then, an image of your ex-fiancé flashes in your mind. Just above where you stand is where Kangdae met his end. And even after his death, he still haunts you.

That split-second of him – drenched in the rain, eyes wild with fury, aiming his gun to you and Namjoon – causes you to step back and gasp.

For a moment, you and Namjoon stand steps away. His brow furrows with worry, and guilt starts to swallow you whole when you realize you’ve just ruined the moment.

“Are you cold?” Namjoon finally asks, breaking the silence. He picks up your blanket from the ground and drapes it around you again. You hadn’t noticed it slipped off your shoulders as he was kissing you. He smiles at you kindly, dimples forming on his cheeks. “Let’s get you somewhere warmer.”

You nod your head, unable to find your voice.

It doesn’t feel fair.

Namjoon is the one you want. He makes you feel so safe and happy, and you truly love him so much.

So why do Kangdae’s words still taunt you, making you feel like you don’t deserve to be loved at all?

“Careful, it’s dusty,” Hoseok warns, standing in front of a room that probably hasn’t been entered in years. Tiny specs float in the air as he pushes the door open, and the three of you peek into the dark room to find an old storage space.

Today, the three of you are tasked to clean out some of the unused rooms in the west wing. Your body aches from sweeping and scrubbing floors, wiping windows, and moving furniture around all day. But at least this is the last room you’re assigned to tackle.

Honestly, it’s also a welcomed distraction.

Last night, Namjoon slept in your room in the east wing. You kept apologizing for pushing him away, and even though he did nothing wrong, he said he was sorry for getting too carried away.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Namjoon,” you tell him, feeling even worse.

With incredible patience and attentiveness, Namjoon courted you for months: nightly dates, sticky notes in your books, and flowers by your bedside. He never pushed you into doing anything you were uncomfortable with. And it must’ve been because he knew you weren’t ready for a relationship so soon after what you’ve escaped from.

“Neither do you,” Namjoon replies. You see his pretty eyes briefly glance toward the door, as if debating whether he should stay here or return to the west wing.

“Come to bed, please,” you decide for him, gesturing at the empty spot beside you.

His face lights up as he pulls off his shirt and settles under the covers with you. Your hands have a mind of their own, touching the bulk of his muscles and feeling the warmth of his skin. 

You feel lucky. You feel undeserving.

He sighs at your gentle caresses and closes his eyes. He looks content like this, being this close and enjoying your touch, breathing you in. He takes your wrist and kisses it before he snuggles closer to hold you.

It feels so nice to be held like this, to be safe and feel protected. Even now, you’re not quite used to it. Even now, when you know you should feel happy, you feel troubled.

You think he’s asleep. His breathing slows and his eyes remain closed.

And you can’t help but hate Kangdae all over again. For showing you his version of love so you’d think that it’s cruel and ugly. For being a monster that creeps in the shadows of the back of your mind long after he’s passed. For convincing you that a love as sweet and beautiful as Namjoon’s is only a fairytale.

For making you believe that happily ever afters don’t exist.

Namjoon deserves a mate that isn’t broken from their past like you. It’s a daunting thought that hangs over you – that even though he says you’re the one, you could still lose him somehow.

“I wish I wasn’t so afraid to love you.”

When you woke up that morning, Namjoon had already left. He’s been going into town often lately, so that isn’t unusual. Yet, the dread of being an unworthy mate continues to plague your mind as you fix breakfast with the hybrids and focus on the house chores you agreed to take on.

“Careful, Jungkook,” Hoseok begins, eyeing wearily as the bunny-hybrid picks up a large box. “Some of them are heavy.”

“It’s okay. I’m strong,” he assures him, pausing to wink at you. You smile, fondly recalling how he’d come to protect you since you two ran away together. As he moves around, he hears something jingling inside. “Huh? What’s even in these?”

Curious, you and Hoseok inch closer to Jungkook as he sets the box down. Something inside rattles, knocking together with every movement. You’re certain you hear tiny bells and glass as well. As Jungkook rips open the packaging tape and pulls it open, your head nearly collides with Hoseok’s antlers as the three of you gather around and peek inside.

Round glass painted in deep, holiday red.

“They’re Christmas ornaments!” you exclaim with a gasp. With everything that’s been happening, you’ve almost forgotten that the holidays are here.

Jungkook picks one of them up and examines it. “What’s Christmas?”

Your head whips away from the ornaments to stare at him. “You’re kidding!”

He brings the ornament to his nose to smell it. “I’m not.”

“It’s a big winter holiday,” you answer, wondering if it’d ring a bell. But both hybrids continue to blankly stare at you. “People usually spend it with their friends and family, exchanging gifts, singing carols all month, and decorating their homes with lights and a tree.”

“Ah. It’s a human celebration,” Hoseok realizes.

“Well, sure, but… you guys never celebrated it?” you ask with a frown. You imagine they’d have fun eating a big feast together, playing winter-themed party games, and opening each other’s presents.

But then, why would they?

As hybrids, some of their Christmases were locked up in a cage, freezing in the cold. Or trying to survive the harsh winter while running away from hunters trying to capture and sell them. Some are put to work, gifted away like toys, or treated like spectacles at a fancy party. At best, it’s another day, though relatively quiet with humans going out of town to be with their loved ones.

“I’ve never celebrated Christmas before,” Jungkook admits.

“Me neither,” Hoseok says, sweeping the floor again. “I don’t think any of us ever had a proper Christmas before.”

An idea strikes you just then. The two hybrids watch as you open another box. Then, another. You’re delighted to see that they’re all Christmas decorations.

“Well,” you decide with a smile, carrying one of them out of the room. “That’s going to change this year.”

“What’s all this?” Yoongi asks from behind you, watching as you carefully wrap garland around the stair rail.

“Christmas,” Jimin answers on your behalf as he hangs eight stockings over the fireplace. 

When you, Hoseok, and Jungkook pulled out boxes of decorations from the storage room, it caught the attention of the other hybrids. Soon, you have Seokjin and Taehyung bickering about where to put the giant tree they found, Hoseok trying not to get his antlers tangled with tinsel and garland, Jungkook playing with the nutcrackers, and Jimin helping you decorate.

“Do you want to help?” you ask the leopard-hybrid. You glance at one of the boxes and suggest, “You can put up the wreaths on the doors.”

He picks one up and tilts his head, his ears flickering a bit. “Does Namjoon know we’re doing this?”

You pause what you’re doing, eyes widening with a mild panic. “Would Namjoon have a problem with this?”

“Not when it’s your suggestion,” Jimin replies, his feathers bristling with pride as he steps back to admire his work. “You’re his mate.”

“Either way, it’s a nice change of scenery,” Seokjin adds as he and Taehyung finally agree on a spot for the tree.

Your smile fades a bit. The insecurity that you’ve tried to keep at bay rises again. “I don’t know if I’m a good mate for him.”

Your voice is so quiet, you didn’t think they’d hear you. But all six of them whip their heads toward you, appalled.

“WHAT?” Taehyung shouts so loud, he startles you.

“Why would you say that? Did Namjoon say something to you?” Seokjin sputters, looking ready to scold the younger hybrid, despite Namjoon being the leader of their pack.

“No, it’s not that. He’s been so good to me. You all have,” you assure them. Seven months ago, the hybrids residing at the manor treated you like an outsider – a threat lingering in their territory. Things are completely different now that they consider you a friend.

“Then what’s wrong?” Yoongi gently asks.

“Kangdae,” you answer, and you practically feel the hostility in the air at the mere mention of his name. “I’ve been with him for so long, I don’t think I know how to love.”

To love and to be loved in return. It’s still so foreign to you.

“These days, Namjoon is the happiest I’ve ever seen him,” Jimin mentions. He takes the garland from you and starts to finish the rest, weaving it around the railing. “Even though he knows you’re his mate, he didn’t think you’d accept him. He always worried that he’d scare you off. That once you saw what kind of hybrid he is, you’d only see him as a monster.”

“I never thought of him as a monster.”

“I know you don’t, but Namjoon still worries about that sometimes. You’re human. You don’t feel that pull toward your mate like hybrids do when they find each other. You don’t feel that same certainty Namjoon felt the moment he first saw you.” Jimin looks in your eyes as he adds, “But that doesn’t make you a bad mate.”

“You’re meant to be loved,” Taehyung tells you, pulling you into a bear hug as you wipe your tears away. “And Namjoon is meant to be loved by you, too. Sometimes, the both of you need a reminder of that.”

Christmas is your favorite holiday.

As a child, you and your siblings would wake up your parents on Christmas morning with the joy of seeing presents from Santa under the tree. You’d spend the night before baking cookies and watching feel-good movies, and sometimes your father would take you all out to play in the snow and skate on the frozen lake.

Even as you grew older, you still enjoyed wrapping presents, decorating the tree, and humming your favorite Christmas songs as you cooked and cleaned. Even during the long, bleak years you’ve spent with Kangdae, you always looked forward to the time of year where everything is a little more joyful and merrier.

All day, you and the hybrids have been busy decorating the whole manor. Red and green are adorn in every corner, from the stockings neatly lined up on the mantle to the garlands of pine and holly hanging over arches and wrapped around stair rails. The tree that Seokjin and Taehyung brought in is heavily decorated with shimmering ornaments and ribbons, and on the top of the tree is a glimmering star that shines above the balls and lights. The wreaths that Yoongi hung up are placed on the doorways, and the nutcrackers that Jungkook grabbed are displayed on the shelves.

You step back in admiration, proud of what you’ve all accomplished. “Good job, everyone! The manor looks beautiful.”

An old grandfather clock tolls in the hour.

Seokjin looks over at Yoongi. “We should get started on dinner.”

“Yeah, it’s already late,” Yoongi agrees as the two begin to head toward the kitchen. Jungkook offers to help, trailing after the two.

“We’re going to check on the garden,” Hoseok informs as he, Jimin, and Taehyung plan to leave together as well. “Namjoon should be at his study.”

You look surprised. “Namjoon is home?”

Usually, he’d greet you as soon as he came back from his trips. But you don’t think much of it as you thank Hoseok and make your way toward the west wing.

Sure enough, you find him in his study. A fireplace is lit, cackling softly with a warm and inviting glow. The flicker of flames makes the shadows of the room dance, and Namjoon sits on a velvet chair by the fire, staring at the hearth. On an end table beside him is a tray with a container of whiskey and a half-filled glass.

Another memory flashes in your mind. Anger and alcohol, glass shattering by your head, and Kangdae storming away for the night while you cried. It scared you whenever Kangdae drank, but you don’t feel nervous at all when Namjoon does.

“Hey, when did you come back?” you ask, closing the door behind you.

“Not long,” he answers without looking at you. He seems sad.

You watch as he grabs the glass and finishes it in one go. “Did something happen?”

Before you could step closer, he suddenly stands. The clink of the glass on the tray fills the tense silence. Despite the glow of the fire, you catch the tinge of redness in his cheeks, and a glimpse of his watery eyes.

You close the distance, touching his face and asking what’s wrong. Rather than answering, he wraps his arm around you and pulls you to his chest. You feel him breathe you in, as if having you in his arms helps him calm down and eases his worries.

Then, after a while, he states, “You’re not scared.”

“I’m not,” you confirm, a little confused why he thinks you would be. “I never am when I’m with you.” 

The memories of all that you’ve been through linger in the back of your mind, but being in Namjoon’s arms now, feeling safe and protected, feeling warm and loved – it reminds you that this is what love is supposed to feel like.

You are meant to be loved.

He doesn’t say anything for a while again. He simply rests his chin on top of your head, and just as you were about to speak, he suddenly asks, “Do you want to spend the evening with me?”

You lift your head to look at him. “Of course I do. Always.”

He smiles a little. Just enough that the dimples you love form on his cheeks. “Okay. Get ready and wear something warm.”

“Something warm?”

“I want to take you on a real date this time.”

It’s been months since you’ve been to a town, surrounded by other humans who are enjoying their night.

Fried food, grilled meat, and fresh pastries linger from the market stalls, all decorated for the festivities as sellers are busy handing treats shaped like snowmen and reindeer or seasonal spiced drinks. A live band performs Christmas tunes on a stage. Little shops with trinkets and homemade ornaments and accessories pitch their products as the perfect gifts for the year. In the center is a huge Christmas tree, its branches heavy with silver and gold ornaments, red ribbons, and colorful fairy lights.

“Wow…” You marvel at the sights and sounds before you, a bit winded after Namjoon flew you here in his other form.

Namjoon glances at the look on your face and smiles to himself before pushing up a thick pair of sunglasses over his indigo eyes. With them, he blends in like any other human. Even if it is a bit odd for him to wear those glasses at this time of night.

Excited, you take his hand and he lets you lead him to whatever catches your attention. The two of you stop by every open stall, admiring the trinkets, sampling food, and buying small gifts you’d think the other hybrids would like. You pick out some clothes at a thrift shop for yourself and the hybrids, and you’re genuinely impressed with every outfit Namjoon tries on and shows off to you. At a convenience store, Namjoon helps you carry a bag full of ramen, pastries, and snacks you hadn't realized you missed until you saw them. And as the night gets later and the air grows colder, the two of you end up at a table in a small, crowded restaurant.

“This was really fun, Namjoon,” you state, scooping a spoonful of dessert as you admire your haul. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

Namjoon reaches across the table to hold your hand. “I’m glad. We can come here more often if you’d like. No one is looking for you anymore.”

You glance around the lively restaurant. TV monitors are showing Christmas specials instead of missing person reports. Families with small children, couples on a date, and friends making toasts and exchanging gifts are sitting on the tables around you. To them, you and Namjoon are just any other couple enjoying their night.

It’s a kind of freedom you’ve never really thought about.

Before you met Kangdae, you were nobody. Just a quiet girl that loved to hide away from the world and read her books. People found you odd for that. You never quite fit in with the rest of the people in town.

Dating a man like Kangdae placed you on everyone’s radar. He was handsome, popular, and wealthy – a monster disguised as a prince. Although he only sought you out because you’re beautiful, he kept you around because together, you were something. A spectacle. A power couple meant to inherit the wealth and influence his parents had over the town. It didn’t matter what he did behind closed doors, as long as he’s seen as a doting boyfriend in the eyes of the public. As long as you did your part and pretended to be happy.

Now, Kangdae is gone. He can’t hurt you anymore. He isn’t trying to look for you and drag you back to that miserable life. Without him, you’re nobody again. You’re free.

That’s the greatest gift you could ever ask for.

“Could we?” you ask, hopeful. 

Already, you’re thinking of so many possibilities. Museum dates where he’d excitedly ramble about his favorite art pieces. Tiny concert halls where singers perform to a small, intimate crowd, and you and Namjoon are part of the audience. Coffee shops and bookstores, and cakes that are too cute and pretty to eat.

“Of course,” he replies, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. It’s hard to read his face when he adds, “I want you to be happy.”

“I am happy.”

Behind his sunglasses, you can feel his stare. “I don’t scare you?”

You frown, wondering where this is coming from. Again, you confirm, “You never scared me, Namjoon.”

“I want to believe you.”

But he doesn’t.

He always worried that he’d scare you off. That once you saw what kind of hybrid he is, you’d only see him as a monster.

Did something happen? Did you do something to upset him earlier? Was that why he seemed so sad when you greeted him at his study?

“Namjoon, what—?”

“Would you like me to bring anything else?” a waitress interrupts, eyeing on the finished plates and drinks on your table.

“No,” Namjoon tells her, giving her a polite smile as he takes out his wallet to pay for the meal. “That’s all.”

The hybrids are still awake when you and Namjoon arrive back at the manor. You barely step inside before strong arms engulf you in a hug.

“Welcome home!” Jungkook greets you.

Jimin smirks as he looks between you and Namjoon. “How was your date?”

Taehyung grabs a bag of snacks you got for them and peers inside. “What’s all this?”

“Give them some space, guys,” Seokjin lightly scolds them, shooing the youngest hybrids away from the door.

“Whoa, you brought a lot of stuff!” Hoseok exclaims as Namjoon helps you carry in your bags.

“Most of them are for you guys,” Namjoon explains, moving them away before Hoseok could take them.

“For us?” Yoongi questions, turning his attention to you. “What for?”

“It’s Christmas,” you remind them, letting Jungkook go so you could help bring your gifts upstairs.

Taehyung frowns. “But we didn’t get you anything.”

“That’s not the point,” you assure them, seeing their pinned ears and pouty lips. “It’s about being kind to each other. To celebrate the end of a long year together. To make your loved ones happy.”

You look at Namjoon then, but he’s already walking up the stairs. 

He makes you so happy. You’re afraid of messing things up. 

Part of you feels like, somehow, you already have.

It’s nearly midnight when you walk the empty halls of the east wing and head straight to the west side. You had a full day cleaning, decorating, and going on that date in town with Namjoon. You’ll have another full day wrapping presents, preparing party games and activities, and cooking a full feast. 

Then, it’ll be Christmas.

But the further you get to the west wing, the louder you hear it. The howls of the wind. The growls of a beast.

Namjoon is in his other form when you open the door to the master bedroom. He looks like he’s about to take off for the night, facing the opening in the corner of the room. 

“You’re leaving?”

Caught off guard, his eyes widen and he stops himself from jumping through the exposed ceiling. He backs away from where the moonlight touches, sinking into the shadows to hide. But then, as if reminding himself that he no longer has to hide from you, he reluctantly steps back under the silver glow of moonlight.

Despite how intimidating he looks, the beast within him is nervous around you.

It makes your heart drop.

“It’s okay. Come here.” 

You step closer to the beast as well, petting his snout and admiring the way his scales shine under the light. He watches you carefully, ready to back off at the slightest hint of fear or discomfort.

But you’re calm. Dare to say, even affectionate.

He closes his eyes and sighs. Even in this form, he seems content with your touch, of being this close to you. Your laugh breaks the silence when he nudges your hand for more.

“I’m sorry if I made you sad, Namjoon,” you tell him after a while. “I worry all the time that I’m not a good mate to you.”

His eyes fly open as something connects for him. Namjoon is back in his human form, but the surprise doesn’t leave his face. “Is that what you meant when you said you were afraid to love me?”

And suddenly, his distant behavior makes sense. All this time, he thought you were afraid of him. That his worst fear has come, and you’d refuse to be with him.

“The only thing I’m afraid of is that I can’t make you happy, Namjoon.”

“Impossible,” Namjoon says as his hand cups your face. “To be loved by you is the greatest gift I could ever ask for.”

It’s a cold winter’s day, but in the western wing of the old manor, you’re incredibly warm.

Sunlight peers through the tall windows and the exposed ceiling. The crisp air bites your skin as you stretch and yawn, arms popping from the layers of blankets over you. A chuckle catches your attention, and you turn to see Namjoon is already awake. There’s a soft expression on his face as he lies next to you, forlorn with a dimpled smile and so much love in his beautiful eyes.

“Good morning,” he greets you, his voice low and sleepy.

“Morning,” you whisper back, smiling as he leans down to kiss you. It feels nice. Reassuring. “How long have you been awake?”

“Not long. You’re beautiful even when you’re sleeping,” he tells you, distracted as his head lowers to kiss your neck, your collarbone, the top of your breasts. The blankets that he put over you last night slip around your bare body, unwrapping you like a present. His voice, somehow, becomes huskier as he adds, “I’m so lucky.”

“I’m the lucky one,” you easily reply, shivering with pleasure at the contrast between the heat of your mate’s body and the cold, winter morning. With the anticipation of continuing where you left off last night, where, for once, loving felt easy. With Namjoon trailing kisses down your body and, with a dimpled smile, promising to warm you up.

And even if Kangdae’s voice still lingers in the back of your mind, claiming that you don’t deserve to be this happy, Namjoon quells it to a faint whisper.

Because with Namjoon, you’ll always be loved.

“You didn’t come to your room last night,” Yoongi observes, sipping on a cup of coffee.

Your face heats up a bit. “I didn’t know you were keeping tabs on me.”

“You’re human, but you’re one of us,” Seokjin casually explains as he places mugs of hot chocolate in front of you and Jungkook. “It’s in our instincts to look out for our pack.”

“Plus, you have Namjoon’s scent all over—”

“Enough,” Namjoon cuts in, perhaps just as flustered as you are. Yoongi just smirks and takes another sip of his coffee.

“I’m glad you two talked things out,” Jimin pushes anyway, grabbing a pastry that you got for them from the town. He throws a wink at you, black feathers bristling with pride. 

The bear-hybrid nods his head. “Yeah, I was worried Namjoon would never—”

“Taehyung!” Hoseok interrupts, not-so subtly gesturing at your hand. 

You hold it up, confused. You don’t see anything wrong with your hands. Jungkook takes your hand and examines it, also wondering what they mean. But chaos already erupted as the other hybrids yell over each other while, across from you, Namjoon lets out a long, heavy sigh.

Christmas is your favorite holiday, and on a cold, winter’s day, you celebrate it with the hybrids at the old manor. The decorations and the tree bring in the festive spirit as you hand them the gifts you wrapped: clothes, snacks, board games, vinyls, and other things you thought they’d like. A feast of meat, stews, poultry, roasted vegetables, and dessert were served. Games were played by the warmth of the fireplace and outside in the snow. And while the hybrids take turns singing karaoke in the game room, Namjoon takes your hand and pulls you away from everyone.

“Close your eyes,” he directs with a nervous smile. 

“What’s going on?” you ask, closing your eyes anyway. It feels a bit reminiscent of your first date with him, and he guides you to where he wants to take you. Your footsteps echo around the empty halls as rooms, as the voices of the other hybrids grow fainter.

It’s just you and Namjoon.

“You know,” he begins, opening a door and helping you down the small steps. “I’ve been picking up some shifts around the towns, and saving up some money.”

“It’s that why you’ve been so busy lately?”

“Yes, but I think it’ll be worth it,” he says, stopping you when the two of you reach your destination. You don’t need to open your eyes to know that you’re in his garden. The floral fragrance fills the air the moment you step inside the greenhouse. “I got you a present too.”

“You did?”

“It’s not much, but I redid this place for tonight,” he continues, moving behind you and allowing you to open your eyes.

When you do, you’re met with the full bloom of winter flowers and the soft, gentle glow of fairy lights that rival the twinkling stars in the night sky. Frosty windows and snow-covered grounds indicate the freezing temperature outside, but in here – inside the greenhouse – it’s warm. And the iridescent petals of the smeraldo flowers catch your attention. Between the strings of light and the moon, they reflect a magical shine.

Namjoon told you once that they mean “the truth untold.”

But now, there’s nothing to hide.

You turn to face Namjoon, meaning to tell him how his flowers have grown so beautifully. Or how adding the lights is such a nice touch to his little sanctuary.

But the words are lost to you when you turn around and see the look on his face. The gentle admiration in his eyes as he leans against a table.

“What is it?” you ask shyly.

“I was just thinking… Well, actually, I’ve thought about this for a while,” he begins to nervously babble. “I never thought we’d see each other again after you helped me on that stage all those years ago. I thought I lost you for good when you left the manor before I could tell you how much you mean to me. Even now, I wonder if staying at the manor is enough to keep you with me. If five, ten, twenty years from now, you’ll still be at my side.”

“I think I would,” you answer with such certainty. “To be loved by you is the greatest gift I could ever ask for as well.”

“Is that a promise?”

You watch as Namjoon gets off the table and slowly goes down on one knee. In his hand is a velvet box, carrying a ring – simple, pretty. How long has Namjoon been looking for work to save up for this? How long has he kept it with him, waiting for the right moment to finally ask you?

“I love you,” he continues, “and if you’ll have me, will you marry–”

You kiss him before he has a chance to finish his question.

“Oh, Taehyung, this is a perfect view!” you exclaim, smiling at the bear-hybrid. He swipes at his nose and shrugs, but it’s obvious on his face that he’s proud of the spot he found.

The eight of you are settled around a small campfire on the outskirts of a lively town. Seokjin and Jungkook disappear briefly to gather more wood for the fire – their bickering and teasing still within ear-shot to let you know they haven’t wandered too far. Yoongi immediately claims one of the foldable chairs and pours a bottle of cheap wine in a plastic glass. Taehyung sits on the cooler next to him, making a face of disgust when Yoongi lets him take a sip of his drink. Jimin neatly lays out the food on the picnic blanket, and Hoseok snaps pictures on a polaroid camera and shakes the film that prints out.

It’s the last day of the year. And within a few hours, a new day will begin.

You cozy up with Namjoon by the fire, captivated by the way the flames dance before you. It’s warm light catches the diamond on your engagement ring, and for maybe the hundredth time this week, you hold out your hand to admire it.

“I love you,” Namjoon whispers, kissing your temple. You whole-heartedly accepted him for what he is, and see all the good in him on days he only sees the ugly. You make his days feel less lonely, sharing your love for books, art, and nature with him. You take care of his pack; you brought Christmas to them. You stood up for him when he still called himself Rap Monster. How could he not fall in love with you?

“I love you, too. Always,” you reply, turning to kiss him. The way his lips feel against yours just feels right. Perfect.

Christmas is over, and after staying up with the hybrids by the warmth of the fire, you see the lively town below shooting fireworks to ring in the new year.

You and the hybrids toast and cheer, and grab each other for tight hugs and well wishes. The past year, you’ve rescued Jungkook, ran away from Kangdae, and started living with the others. Last year, you told Namjoon that you loved him, and the ring on your finger symbolizes that he loves you as well – that he’ll promise to protect and cherish you.

And as you find yourself back in Namjoon’s arms, sharing your first kiss with him for the year, you can’t help but feel like this is it.

This is what love is really like.

This is your happily ever after.

Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reviews are greatly appreciated!

[awesome-cookies-and-cream]

To be loved

Is to be Changed

[kazureicentral]

more of that one garfield meme here

[guulabii]

who is wellness for? by fariha róisín

[we-could-call-it-love]

[the-moon-whisperer]

[zepskies]

Never Say Goodbye - Bonus Track #3

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader 

Summary: The first time you and Dean sensed each other’s thoughts and feelings, you were just kids. It would take years to realize that you both were bonded for life, and even longer to finally meet. [Soulmate AU] (18+)

AN: Aaand Part 3! I’ve so enjoyed this series. 

Word Count: 2,500 Tags/Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, cavity-inducing fluff

Bonus Track #3: To Be Loved

Sam and Eileen stayed with Bobby while Dean brought you home. 

Jack had been blowing up his phone all day, and Dean knew he’d have to have to fill in your dad eventually. But right now, all he could think about was taking care of you.

You were quiet the entire car ride home. Your thoughts were a mess, and Dean could only glean so much. But he accompanied you into the bathroom while you showered, just to make sure you were all right. 

After you were dressed in soft pajamas, you finally spoke. 

“We should call my dad, let him know what…what happened,” you said. You tried to find your cell phone. You looked all over the apartment, but frowned when you realized you had no idea where your purse was. 

Dean approached and calmed your shaking hands, grounding you with his firm, but gentle touch. 

“Hey, take a breath, okay?” He guided you to sit down on the couch in the living room. 

“I remember…being at work,” you said with difficulty. “I touched that damn book.”

Dean nodded grimly. “It’s burnt to a crisp.”

You sighed. “What the hell am I going to tell Jerry?”

“I told him you were mugged, and the book got stolen in the process,” he said. 

You raised a brow. 

“And he bought that?” you asked incredulously. 

“He seemed to,” Dean said. “You might have to smooth things over, but for now, you can just chill here at home, okay? You don’t have to go anywhere, talk to anyone, until you’re up to it.”

He settled you on the couch with your favorite throw blanket. 

“You hungry?” he asked. “I can make us something…or better yet, let’s order in. What do you feel like?”

You were too preoccupied to answer. Dean sighed and sat down beside you on the couch. He could tell that your mind was racing, but he couldn’t pinpoint more than a few stray thoughts. You bit your lip and looked up at him with tears in your eyes. 

“She killed all those people…using me,” you choked out. “And I can’t even remember most of it…”

“We destroyed the tapes,” Dean said. Though he knew that wasn’t what you were getting at. “There’s an active investigation, but she mainly used magic. If there’s any fingerprints, your dad will take care of it.”

You gripped your head with both hands in dismay. 

“He shouldn’t have to break the law for me. This is insane…”

Dean scooted over so he could hold you, rubbing your back while you dissolved into tears. It all but broke his heart. 

Deciding you might be more comfortable in bed, he picked you up bridal style. You continued to keep your face covered as he carried you to bed. 

Dean then settled in himself, but you surprised him a bit by turning to him. You moved over to his side of the bed and buried your face into his neck. He wrapped his arms around you, shushing you gently and soothing a warm hand up and down your back.

I can’t stand it, Dean, you whispered in his mind through the bond. So many people died because of me, in a single day.

It’s not your fault, he replied. Someone would’ve touched the book eventually. 

You just don’t know that. 

“What I know is you’re alive. And I'm damn grateful,” Dean said out loud, soft in your ear.

You sucked in a breath at that. You pulled away, just enough to see his face. Despite the tears clinging to your lashes, making your eyes red and puffy, you still looked beautiful to him. 

Because he recognized you���the size and strength of your heart. You were crying for people you hadn’t known, over something you had no control over, and had only vague memories of. But he knew you still felt responsible for their deaths, just as Dean would have, if he were in your shoes.   

“I’m grateful for you,” you replied, sniffling and stroking his cheek. “I’m so sorry for all this.”

Dean shook his head and pressed a kiss to your forehead, followed closely by your lips. 

The next day, Dean woke you with a kiss above your brow. 

“Morning, sleepyhead,” he said. He sat down the edge of the bed, already dressed in his usual jeans, undershirt and opened buttoned down ensemble. 

You smiled, until you spied the alarm clock on the nightstand and realized how late it was.

“I talked to Jerry, called you out of work on official police business,” he said, guessing at your thoughts. “Need your help tracking down the ‘mugger.’”

You gave a soft huff at that. “I don’t think that coverup is going to stick.”

Dean’s shrug was deceptive; he had already broken things down with Jack this morning, in painstaking detail, so that the murders of ten people likely wouldn’t be traced back to you. Jerry was, quite frankly, the least of his worries.

“It’s gonna be fine. I’ve got it all worked out,” he told you. “But are you hungry? Want some eggs, pancakes, bacon, or all three? Breakfast of champions.”

He rubbed his palms together with a grin, one you tried to match, despite being sleepy. Really, you still felt like total crap. But you appreciated the way he was trying to lift your spirits. 

“Whatever you want, baby,” you said, grabbing his hand, the one that held his mother’s ring. He looked down at you with a softer smile. He brought your hand up to his lips. 

“All right, beautiful. Breakfast of champions it is,” he said. You were able to smile a bit more as you watched him leave the bedroom.

Getting up was a monumental effort, but you made yourself do it, or you knew you would spend the entire day lying in bed and feeling sorry for yourself. 

Your guilt was still eating at you. You knew you could only try to move forward, like Sam and Dean used to have to do after a rough hunt. You tried to focus on one task, and the next, until you were dressed, freshened up, and sitting down across from Dean in the dining room, eating breakfast. 

But he picked up on the predictable course of your thoughts, most of them following the path of self-loathing. He took your hand across the table, which prompted you to look up at him from your eggs.

“You didn’t know the book was cursed,” he said. “Just because I’m retired from hunting, doesn’t mean this shit isn’t still out there.”

A fact that elicited his own guilt. 

That he got to have his normal life while other hunters scraped and struggled and died. You sensed his thoughts, and it broke you out of your own inner world. You squeezed his hand, feeling tears well up in your eyes. 

“You’ve earned this, Dean,” you said. “You’re finally living your life for you.”

He considered your hand in his. “That doesn’t make me selfish?”

“You deserve to be happy…even if I’ve been making that part difficult.” You wiped away the first couple of tears that broke down your cheeks when you remembered how angry you had been at him a few days ago. How selfish. “The fight we had, before all this started…”

Dean leaned over and brushed a lock of hair away from your eyes, along with a stray tear from your cheek. 

“Listen, whatever we were arguing about, it’s petty shit. Let’s just move on, okay?”

“It’s not petty,” you replied with a sniff. “You were right…about Jason. I shouldn’t have been out all night at his place.”

Dean was uncomfortably silent then, even though a part of him felt vindicated, deep down. It did also feel stupid now. 

“Look, I trust you,” he said.

“I know. But it’s still not fair to you,” you said with a sigh. “I know between my job, the wedding planning, and everything else, it doesn’t feel like we’ve actually been together for the past few months. I don’t want us to feel like that before, or after we get married.”

Dean folded his hands on the table. “Okay. So what do we do?”

You raised a brow at him. A teasing smile worked its way onto your face. 

“You’re letting me call the shots?” you asked. 

Dean noted that smile, spying a glimpse of your old self.

“Well, you generally do what you want anyway. So I figured I’d just tag along,” he remarked.

You pushed at his chest. “You’re not getting off that easily.” 

He grabbed that hand and held it. And he kissed the inside of your palm, then down your wrist. It was tender, languid, and sweet. Until the heat in his eyes made you blush, earning a smile from you.

“Come ‘ere,” he said. 

He tugged you over by your hand, and you got up, willingly being guided into his lap. Your free hand delved into his hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp. He gave a pleased hum and tugged you down into a kiss. The heat of it made your toes curl as his hands molded to the curve of your ass. 

You held his face, pressing lingering kisses against his lips, along his jawline, down his neck…

Desire coursed through both of you, echoing through the soul bond in perfect symmetry. 

“I need you,” you whispered in his ear. 

Dean grinned against your neck. He slid an arm beneath your legs and around your back, and lifted you into the air, eliciting a squeal from you as he made a quick path to the bedroom.

Three weeks later…

“Hun, you need to calm down,” Jo told you. She was stifling her laughter as she fixed the lay of your wedding gown. 

It was ten more minutes of waiting.

Ten more minutes, and you wouldn’t have your last name anymore. You would be a Winchester. 

Sweet Jesus, you were about to be an honest-to-God wife.  

“I need ice,” you said, trying to air out your underarms. “Someone blot me. I’m sweating like a whore in church.”

Jo resisted the urge to remind you that you were in a church. Or at least, in the women’s dressing room.

“You’re gonna be fine,” Eileen said in amusement. You made sure to turn to her when you replied, so she could read your lips. 

“I feel bloated.” You grimaced, rubbing your chest as if that would quell your sudden anxiety. Or was it Dean’s? You couldn’t tell anymore. 

“Or possibly heartburn. Maybe the breakfast burrito wasn’t a good idea.”

“What’s to be nervous about? He faced down a literal goddess for you,” Eileen replied with a smile. You gave a wry smile, even if that was a somewhat painful reminder. 

“I know. And no matter the words, it’s just not enough to describe how much I love him. But it’s just…” you took in a deep breath. “What if I’m stopping him from being who he’s supposed to be, you know?”

Both women had to know what you meant. They were still hunters. Eileen and Jo shared a glance, but it was Eileen who touched your hand. 

“When I met Sam, I thought I had my life figured out. I was on my way out of New York. I never meant to stay, let alone for six months,” she said. 

And you knew this story, but it still warmed your heart to hear it again. 

“We’re still figuring it out,” Eileen admitted. “But I see you and Dean, and it gives me hope. It makes me think I can still be myself without hunting…maybe even a better version.”

You teared up, like the emotional wreck you were, but Eileen and Jo immediately went to blot it away from your mascara. 

You didn’t know that Dean was having a similar meltdown.

“Dude, quit fidgeting. You’re gonna be fine,” Sam said in amusement. He was fixing Dean’s cuffs, then the burgundy carnation pinned to his breast pocket.

“I don’t know if this monkey suit is fitting right,” Dean groused.

“It is,” Sam informed him. 

“Does it really need to be a flower,” Dean gestured at the pocket Sam was adjusting, along with the satin pocket square. 

“It does,” Sam once again informed him.

“I don’t know why. It’s not a fucking prom,” Dean muttered. 

Sam resisted the urge to laugh at his brother’s evident nervousness. “All right, just calm down.”

A knock sounded at the door to the men’s dressing room. In came Jack, popping his head in and asking if it was a good time.

“Perfect time,” Sam said, straightening his brother’s tie. “I’m going to check in with the ladies, see if they’re ready.”

Dean nodded, though his anxiousness grew to see him leave. Still, he welcomed Jack in to take a seat across from him on a wooden stool. Jack obliged, but first, he pulled out a flask from the inner pocket of his blazer. 

Dean raised a brow. “Whiskey?”

“You gotta ask?” Jack said. Dean grinned and took the flask, and then a sip. 

“The day I married my wife, I was much like you. Shittin’ my pants,” Jack said with a wry chuckle. Dean looked down, both embarrassed and amused.

“For me it was questions. So many questions,” Jack continued. “The world’s telling me this is it. This is the girl. But what does that mean…practically?”

Dean could relate to that. 

“You know what I found out?” Jack asked.

Dean looked up at him. “What?”

“The bond…it matters, but it doesn’t always make things easier either,” Jack said. “It just gives you a reason to be honest. To have someone you can be fully yourself with, no matter the repercussions. Someone who can be your true support system.”

“That sounds about right,” Dean said after a moment. Jack leaned across the divide to pat his shoulder. 

“After her mother died, I worried about my daughter every day,” he said, with some deeper emotion shining through his eyes. “I didn’t realize that she came up strong, stubborn, with her own ideas about the world and what she wanted from it.”

Dean nodded. That definitely sounded like you.

“We didn’t have the best start, you and I. But I see how you look after my girl. How you support each other,” he said. “I’m proud of you, son. Proud to call you that too.”

Dean’s throat constricted with unexpected emotion. On days like today, he really wished his dad could’ve lived to see this. 

But Dean was grateful to shake his father-in-law’s hand.

“Thank you, sir.”

Dean stood alone at the altar inside the church sanctuary. But he wouldn’t be alone for long.

Five minutes.

His gaze roamed, finding Bobby and Ellen in the first row. The latter was already teared up, smiling with almost motherly pride. Even Bobby shot him a wink and a smile. 

Dean smiled back at them and took in a steadying breath. There was Jody Mills and her husband, some of your friends from work, and from school. There were other friends of his from the precinct. 

Then he noticed someone in the back—a lanky kid with shaggy brown hair and an attitude. Dean grinned when Jessie Deluca met him with a lazy salute.

He’d been dropping by the precinct lately. Dean had taken him out a few times for burgers and pizza and light conversation. 

You had even suggested that Bobby give him a part-time job after school, at the tow yard, and a safe place to stay when he needed it. So far, Jessie hadn’t taken Bobby up on that offer. Dean was working on it.  

But the fact that he’d accepted Dean’s offhand invitation to his wedding spoke volumes. He sent the kid a little salute back, along with his grin. 

And then the music started. A hush drew over the crowd, and even Jessie took a seat in one of the pews. The double doors opened in the back, and down the aisle came Sam and Eileen. She looked beautiful in her wine-red dress. Sam was tall and dapper in his light gray suit, contrasting Dean’s darker one. 

Jo was next, being escorted by one of your buddies from college, then your cousin Lily and her boyfriend. And finally, your father walked you down the aisle. 

Dean sucked in a subtle breath. He’d never seen the dress, of course, but it was beautiful. You were beautiful. 

The moment you reached out and took his hand, he could breathe again. 

And he knew then that he was ready…because this felt right. 

He later showed you the ring before he slipped it on your finger — engraved with an anti-possession star. You smiled up at him wryly. 

But then your smile became more genuine, more lovely. Your eyes shone bright with unshed tears. 

You held nothing back from the soul bond, and so Dean got a full picture of what it was to be loved. 

His eyes burned too. He hoped you were able to read his WiFi signals right back. Because just now, he wasn’t sure if his voice was going to cooperate with him.

The simple fact of it was, you were his girl. His person.

And that was something that couldn’t be broken.

AN: I hope you enjoyed this more official epilogue to Never Say Goodbye! ❤️

It’s been so much fun to write this story. But let me know if there are any requests in this story-verse! I’d be happy to come back to it someday. 🥹

Keep Reading:

Ready for another bonus one-shot?

Read on: The Old-Fashioned Way You and Dean are having trouble trying to start a family. What happens when you turn to a spell for a possible solution?

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

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Tag List:

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[vesuviaweekly]

Vesuvia Weekly: Prompt for September 11th - 25th

You voted, so here it is!

To be loved is to be ...

With that, the "Our First Argument" prompt is officially closed!

The tags are the usual #vesuvia weekly and for this specific prompt, #to be loved. The masterlist for all works submitted for this prompt will be under the poll for next week :D

MASTERLIST

To be loved is to by @fox-daddy

(M6 Drabbles) To be loved is to be ... by @iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia

Always Loved by @sweetestlittledarling

[banananinjathebomb]

There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me.

Pride and Prejudice (2005)

[kyrieren]

"I tell myself I have to build defenses 'Cause once you are in love, you are defenseless Everything was easy when it meant less But once you are in love, you are defenseless"

To be loved ~ by Askjell & Aurora

[taevbears]

To Be Loved - 01

Here's where she meets prince charming.

⤑ pairing: namjoon x reader ⤑ genre: hybrid au, romance, hurt/comfort ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 5.2k ⤑ warnings: DEPICTIONS OF READER IN A TOXIC RELATIONSHIP (i.e, manipulation, domestic/verbal abuse, threats, degradation, violence toward reader), bullying toward reader, the "gaston" character is a straight-up asshole lmao, hyrbids are treated as second-class humans, description of bodily harm, sexual harassments, minor violence, based off 2013 namjoon in this chapter lol. please be mindful of the warnings!!⤑ note: happy birthday, namjoon!! while i was taking a break from magic shop, i've been working on a couple other projects and i finally finished one. it's truly a coincidence that i completed this story today lol. this story is loosely based off beauty & the beast but with hybrids.

Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 (End)

It was a dark and stormy night.

Flickering fluorescent lights. The heat of the jeering crowd. Grey concrete in the old warehouse. Speakers reverberating a deep bass that fills the room. Thunder is drowned out as two amateur rappers spit lines on the small stage, eliciting reactions from the audience before them.

One of the contestant’s attention drifts to the crowd until he makes eye contact with you. It seems like he was looking for you. The moment you raise your hand to offer a tiny, half-hearted wave, the corners of his lips tug to a haughty smirk. Then, with the microphone to his lips, he puffs out his chest, turns back to his opponent, and begins rapping.

You’re less than impressed when he finishes his turn and is declared the winner of the round.

To be fair, however, this isn’t your scene. It’s too loud. Too rowdy.

If it were up to you, you’d be at home. Safe and cozy in your warm bed, curled up to a good book or movie. Initially, you didn’t even want to come, complaining that the weather is awful, the venue is too small, the floors are sticky, and that there are too many people.

But he insisted that you come tonight. For him.

One of his friends has her arm linked with yours, anchoring you to her. Her eyes are bright with excitement as she screams in your ear, “Fighting! Kangdae!”

The one you’re all here to see stands on the stage, relishing in the audience’s attention. There’s a smug look on his face when he meets your gaze, as if checking to see if you’re just as impressed with his performance as the rest of the audience is.

Politely, you clap your hands, not quite sure what the etiquette for these types of things are.

The host continues to rile up the crowd, daring any of the other contestants to step forward and challenge Kangdae.

No one does.

Except for one.

Silence follows as a lanky, tall contestant comes onstage. One that no one has heard from yet. Sunglasses cover his eyes, but you can make out some of his predominant features: his full lips, the deep dimples in his shy smile, his tanned skin.

“Okay, kid,” the host says, intrigued. “Show us what you got.”

The kid is handed a mic. Kangdae looks him up and down and scoffs.

The difference between the two is telling. 

Kangdae lives for the attention, wildly gesturing and getting into his opponent’s face. He encourages the crowd to cheer him on like that. Their hoots and hollering pumps the adrenaline in his veins as he verbally attacks the guy ballsy enough to challenge him.

His opponent, to your surprise, stands quietly as he’s thrown insult after insult. Then, when it’s his turn, the room falls in awe. His flow makes him sound professional, even though he sounds quite young. You’re impressed with his wordplay, how he keeps up with the rhythm, how he delivers the lines.

He’s by far your favorite of all the ones you’ve heard tonight.

There’s a clear winner after the boy with sunglasses is done, though rather than shove his victory at his opponent’s face, he holds out his hand to Kangdae and offers a dimpled smile.

Rap Monster.

That’s what they call him.

And as Kangdae bitterly shakes his hand, stunned at the turn of events, you’re beginning to see why they call him that.

In your small, provincial town, Kangdae has it all. He’s a handsome young man, athletic and popular. His family is well-off; so much so that he can indulge in expensive clothing brands, own the newest models and gadgets, and party every weekend at some bougie club or resort. Guys look up to him. Girls are in love with him. He lives off the attention and praise from his big circle of friends.

And yet, for whatever shallow reason, he seems fixated on you.

Unlike Kangdae, you hate being in the spotlight. It makes you shy. It makes you feel nervous. You tend to keep to yourself because of that, reading books or watching animal videos on your phone. You feel like you hardly have any friends in the town.

Then, one day, seemingly out of nowhere, Kangdae declares he wants you to be his girl.

And suddenly, you’re on everybody’s radar.

Why would someone so brilliant and outgoing even be interested in a boring and quiet person like you? 

That’s a question even you often wonder.

Finding the answers to that, however, becomes unwarranted.

People start to talk to you. People you’ve never spoken to before suddenly act friendly toward you. People who’ve never spared you a glance suddenly want to know all your dirty secrets. People who don’t even know you begin to spread rumors.

“The whole town already knows you’re my girl,” Kangdae tells you one day, while you’re sitting on the steps of your house, eyes red from tears of a recent bullying incident. He doesn’t seem to care about that though. In fact, you’re certain he’s even laughed about it at your expense. “Why don’t we just make it official? You’re not dating anyone, are you?”

“Are you even attracted to me?” you ask him seriously.

He shrugs. “Yeah, you’re hot. I heard quiet girls can get quite freaky too.”

“No way,” you cut in, repulsed by his insinuation. You stand on your feet, turning to go inside. “I’ll never–”

Before you could open the door, you’re suddenly shoved against it. Kangdae towers over you, anger burning in his eyes. He’s never been rejected. He always gets his way. 

It’s something you learn the hard way.

“Then I’ll make sure your life continues to be a living hell,” he threatens before he releases you.

More than before, unwanted attention is thrown at you. As soon as you enter the classroom, people stare and sneer. You hear them whisper about you in the hallways. You’re confronted in small groups. Accusations that you think you’re too good to be dating someone like Kangdae. How there must be something wrong with you.

In the eyes of many, Kangdae is perfect. Objectively handsome. Popular among his peers. Comes from money. All the guys you know want to be him. All the girls you know want to be with him. What makes a nobody like you think that you can do better?

You hardly had any friends in the town, but not once have you ever felt this isolated. You’ve never felt this singled-out. It feels like the whole world is against you.

You can’t take it.

“Kangdae,” you call out to him, stopping as he’s about to head to the field. He’s dressed in his sports uniform, about to go into a match against another school. “One date.”

A Cheshire smile spreads across his face. “I knew you wouldn’t resist, babe.”

You try not to cringe when he plants a wet kiss on your cheek.

Maybe you’re naïve. But maybe that’s why Kangdae is after you.

You’re quiet, soft-spoken, and incredibly shy. You don’t have a lot of friends, and you haven’t had a serious relationship before him. You don’t know anything about what love really is. Yet, despite what an odd loner you are, you’re a beautiful girl. Innocent and loyal to a fault. An easy target for Kangdae to walk all over. 

With his hand around your waist, you feel like an accessory. Before you ever considered dating him, he already declared you as his girlfriend, telling even strangers that he passed by that you would one day be his.

“Right from the moment I saw you, I think I fell in love,” he admits on your first date, taking you to a nice, upscale restaurant. It’s different from anything you’ve experienced in your small town. The menu items are so expensive, it doesn't list pricing, and each course that is presented at your table is like a work of art.

What’s most interesting about this restaurant, however, isn’t just the food. But the staff.

Gorgeous women in white blouses and black skirts that show off their voluptuous curves and long legs. Poking at the back of the skirts are tails. And on their heads are pairs of animal ears. Some of them have stripes or spots on their skin, some have nails as sharp as claws, and some have unique eyes like cats and reptiles. 

Hybrids.

Neither human, nor animal. But something in-between.

In your town, coming across them is rare but not unheard of. They usually dwell in the cities, where sanctuaries housing them are. Some are adopted into families or are hired to do difficult and dirty work with an employer willing to work with them. But most aren’t as lucky, and are treated as sub-human. Worse than how some people care for their beloved cat or dog.

“What makes you say that?” you ask Kangdae as a bunny hybrid brings out the next course. She, like the other hybrids, is quite beautiful.

“Because you’re gorgeous,” he simply states as he sips on some liquor. Then, suddenly, he smacks the hybrid’s ass. “Hey, isn’t my girlfriend gorgeous?”

“Kangdae!” 

“Yes, sir,” the hybrid quickly answers before practically running away from the table. You feel awful, but Kangdae cackles as if it’s the most entertaining thing he’s seen all evening.

“Babe, don’t be mad. She’s just a hybrid.”

One date turns into another. He showers you with expensive gifts, and takes you out to luxurious places. Sometimes, it’s nice. You never imagined you’d be leaning against the railing of a yacht, feeling the salt air against your skin as the boat cruises through deep blue waters. Or fine dining at rooftop restaurants in the big cities with a breathtaking view of the skylines.

You find yourself watching underground rap contests, and witnessing the skill and poetry of a particular contestant that caught your attention once. A tall boy with a thick pair of sunglasses and a dimpled smile.

Other times, it can feel overwhelming. Like you’re undeserving all the things that he bombards you with, and you owe it to him for one more date. One more party he wants you to come with him too. One more ‘this is the last time’ before he asks you again.

He introduces you to his friends, showing you off to them despite how out of place you feel among them. He texts and calls you all the time, wanting to know where you are and who you’re with, and letting you know that he’s thinking about you in persistent, long messages. He posts about you on his social media, calling you his girl, as engagements of likes, views, and comments fill underneath it.

People tell you all the time that you’re lucky though.

Of all the girls he could’ve been with, he picked you. Someone handsome, rich, and popular fell in love at first sight with a boring, quiet, lonely girl like you.

And maybe that’s why you stay. Who else would love you if not him?

Next week, you find yourself in the same, abandoned warehouse. Another night, another show. Another chance for Kangdae to redeem himself.

One thing about him is that he hates to lose. His pride just wouldn’t allow it.

Yet, once again, he doesn’t stand a chance.

This time, Rap Monster seems to be the crowd favorite. Everyone cheers for him once he steps onstage, wearing the same dark sunglasses over his eyes. He seems a bit more confident as he raps, his flow and rhythm even better than last week.

You feel like a fan as you and your group stand close to the stage. Although you’re supposed to be there for Kangdae, you can’t help but cheer his opponent on. Your heart jumps when you see Rap Monster catch your eye and give you a dimpled smile, bowing like a prince when he ends his round.

A shift can be felt once it’s Kangdae’s turn with the mic. People in your group and some of the audience make some noise, but the majority of strangers in the crowd are merely nodding along or quietly listening. 

Until the first heckle comes. Followed by someone else yelling at him to get off the stage.

Mean laughter fills the room, and you almost feel bad for Kangdae.

Had it not been for what he does next.

Gasps and exclamations of shock are followed when he suddenly punches Rap Monster.

“Hey, no! You can’t do that shit!” the host yells as the security guards make haste to handle the situation. They pull Kangdae away, trying to de-escalate, but it’s too late. The crowd gets riled up, shouting and egging him on. Two men have to hold Kangdae down, but he’s strong. He nearly manages to break free and get to Rap Monster’s face a couple times. Rap Monster’s sunglasses are knocked off, and he’s holding his face with one hand, covering an eye.

Because when he opens the other one… it looks strange.

It doesn’t look human.

A couple people up front scream in terror as they point at him. “A monster!”

“He’s one of them!” another shouts in disgust. “He’s a hybrid!”

Suddenly, the room seems to quiet down as they all look at him, stunned, horrified, disgusted. You could see him trying to hide his face as the host snaps at him, “This event is for humans only!”

The sunglasses have fallen near you, and without thinking, you quickly grab them and climb onto the stage. You don’t know what’s gotten over you. You hate attention. You hate being in the spotlight. You’re often shy and insecure, and always stay in your lane.

But you have to help.

“Here,” you tell him gently, pushing the broken sunglasses toward his hand. Up this close, you feel so small standing next to him. “You should get out of here.” 

He nods his head and takes them from you, seeming grateful and a little scared. His eyes look reptilian like a serpent, but they’re pretty. You feel like you can’t forget them.

In the innermost area of the iris, near his slightly vertical pupil, is a hint of warm brown, but the rest is a mix of deep blue and purple. The color of indigo. 

“Get away from her, you beast,” Kangdae commands, but Rap Monster is already walking away from the stage. Away from you.

Somehow, the rain outside seems to pour harder as he leaves.

It’s been years since that night.

Kangdae seemed over it, wanting to chase his fifteen minutes of fame elsewhere. And while you were interested in one of the rappers, you aren’t keen enough to keep going back. It isn’t like that Rap Monster would be welcomed at the future showings anyway.

However, you start listening to hip-hop music more than other genres these days. Secretly hoping that, if you’re to meet him again, maybe the two of you could talk about some of the artists you like. Books that you’ve read, movies you’ve seen.

But you haven’t seen him since.

You end up working for Kangdae’s family. In such a small, provincial town, there isn’t much of an option. His family seems to own and have connections to everything.

To the point where even your family tells you how lucky you are. Kangdae is a catch. Marrying him would guarantee a well-off life with someone objectively handsome, who thinks you’re the most beautiful woman in town, who you’d be out of your mind to leave or break things off with.

Although your father and your siblings mean well, you could only nod in defeat. You can’t bear to tell them how miserable you are with Kangdae.

The same man who tells you you’re the one for him, but flirts with other women in front of you. Who gets angry over little things and takes it out on you, screaming at your face, throwing things that nearly hit you, punching holes in walls and doors, or leaving you confused and worried for days without a word until he finally decides to come back. He’d shower you with expensive gifts and affection to make up for it, but his sweeter side never stays long before the cycle repeats.

And you can’t seem to find your way out of it.

The constant pressure to be with Kangdae has you wishing you could just disappear from the town.  To run away from it all and never go back.

But you’re a coward, and you don’t know where else to go. Everyone in town likes Kangdae, and even your family wouldn’t believe what a monster he really is.

In the apartment you share with him, it’s dark and empty. Empty bottles of soju and beer are on the coffee table, dirty dishes are in the sink for you to clean, there’s still a gaping hole in the pantry from an argument a couple weeks ago that hasn’t been fixed. But Kangdae’s shoes aren’t by the door, and you don’t imagine he’d be back anytime soon.

With a quiet, defeated sigh, you take off your shoes and your coat, place your purse down, and begin cleaning up the mess. You go through the motions of it, exhausted from work, from having more to do once you get home, and as you gather the bottles, you see that he’s placed some on top of a book.

A fairy tale story about a far-off place, daring sword fights, and a prince in disguise.

It’s your favorite. The local librarian gave it to you as a gift, and Kangdae is using it as a coaster. And one of the half-empty bottles has spilled over, soaking through the pages.

Angry, you drop the bag on the ground, letting the bottles clatter against each other, and pick up the book, trying to salvage the ruined cover. But rings of liquid stain the front, and the pages are wrinkled from the liquid, blurring the texts so they’re unreadable.

Even before, the book is already a bit worn-out when it was gifted to you, but it still makes you want to cry. Kangdae doesn’t seem to care about you at all anymore.

How much longer are you going to put up with this? Shouldn’t you deserve your own happiness? Shouldn’t you deserve to be loved? 

You have to leave him. You don’t know when. You don’t know how. But you have to. 

That much you know.

Your plans are foiled by a single question.

“Will you marry me?”

Horror strikes your face. Down on one knee before you is Kangdae with a beautiful diamond ring. You could feel every person in the room staring at you, waiting for an answer. All his friends, your family, and even random strangers at the venue are gathered unexpectedly and witnessing his proposal. Wide smiles and excited looks surround you, as if they already know you’ll say yes.

Do you want to say yes?

Are you going to tell him no? In front of all these people?

“Kangdae, I—” you start to say, your voice trembling. You could feel the pressure weighed upon you, setting you close to a panic.

Your boyfriend doesn’t notice how uncomfortable you are. He’s busy flashing a bright, charming smile at the anticipating crowd for his big moment. His smile starts to falter when you take too long to respond.

Behind the smile, you could almost sense it. The heat of his anger.

You have to say something. You have to decide.

You have to tell him no.

“I…” you begin again. Your gaze catches Kangdae’s family, and how they nod their head, encouraging you to continue. Your voice is very soft and almost defeated when you say, “Okay.”

“Yes? You’re saying yes?” Kangdae exclaims loudly as the people around cheer and clap. You even see some girls start to burst into tears. Girls you know Kangdae frequently talk to. Your family seems relieved, worried that you’d reject him, that you’d shame and humiliate them with your refusal.

But it’s when you look at Kangdae’s family where your blood runs cold. They whisper to each other and nod, gauging the reaction of those witnessing the proposal. It feels like they’re in a business merger, and it occurs to you that maybe, to them, it is one.

You feel numb as Kangdae pulls you into a kiss and a tight embrace.

You’re engaged now.

And it makes you want to throw up.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” Kangdae whines, trying to pull you closer to him. “Why are you upset? We’re engaged now!”

“Is it because you want to marry me? Or because your family made you?”

He scoffs. “What are you saying?”

It’s been years since the two of you have been together. Years of you being compliant, years of you arguing behind closed doors, of you silently suffering and hoping that things will get better. That, perhaps, one day you could convince yourself that he’ll change his ways. That he'll love you.

Perhaps in front of your family and friends, the two of you act like a happy couple.

You’re the girlfriend he brags about. Arm candy that he can show off because you’re the prettiest girl in town. Someone that his parents approve of, and often question when he’ll pop the question to you. A question, you suspect, puts his inheritance on the line if he hadn’t proposed so soon.

“Kangdae, do you even love me?”

Kangdae laughs. It’s a dark, biting chuckle that makes your skin crawl. “For a pretty girl, you sure say a lot of stupid shit. What kind of fucking question is that?”

Your mouth snaps shut. Until he snaps at you to answer him. “Kangdae, I…”

“Didn’t I propose to you? What more do you want, huh?”

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t you realize how lucky you are to be with a guy like me? I spent so much money on you! I buy you nice things. I take you to beautiful places. I’ve helped you get a job at my parents’ company. I’ve bought you a home. And this is how you repay me?”

“Kangdae, please, just hear me out,” you plead, but the guilt and fear are already eating at you. It’s true that he’s provided you with so much. Are you being foolish? Ungrateful?

“Don’t forget, stupid bitch,” he threatens, his voice low as he grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks with his grip. “You will be my wife. You’re nothing without me. I will make your life a living hell. If you think this is the worst, then you’ve seen nothing yet.”

He storms out. 

And as the door slams shut, you slowly sink to the floor, trembling as his words of a very bleak future run through your head. Crying in misery and frustration that you, once again, couldn’t stand up for yourself. That you still feel too scared to just leave him and all you know behind. That his anger and selfishness will continue to wear you down.

That, soon, you’ll be married to a monster.

It’s after a long day at work when you see Kangdae again. However, he isn’t alone.

“What’s going on? What is this?”

You frown at the sight before you. Kangdae is on the couch, and kneeling by his feet and wrapped in a ribbon is a young man.

No, a hybrid. A bunny hybrid.

He’s very muscular, with bruises and scratches covering his golden skin. His hair is dark, matching the long, black ears on his head. And his eyes are big, round, and full of fear as he stares back at you.

“Don’t you like him? Watched him in a fight last night. He’s pretty tough for a bunny, but lost in the final round. His owner was pissed! Nearly knocked him out himself!” Kangdae cackles with laughter, seeming to have found it amusing. "But babe, remember our first date? Remember those hybrid servers you kept staring at?”

“Yes,” you reply with a frown, not really sure what he’s getting at. What do they have to do with the bunny hybrid currently in your living room?

“I convinced the owner to let me borrow his hybrid for the night. As an apology gift,” he states with a proud smile. “Had to fork up a lot of money, but the guy wasn’t too pleased about his prized fighter losing the match anyway.”

“I-I’m not… he’s…” You’re at a loss of words. How could he explain this to you so casually?

“I wanted to make it up to you, babe. Girls dig shit like this, right? Owner kept bragging on and on about how obedient he is and how much stamina he has.” Kangdae can see you’re not into the idea and comes up to you, touching your arm. “I don’t mind. I’d love to watch. Hell, I might even invite the girls over to give him a try.”

“Stop. You’re disgusting.”

How could he think you’d be okay with this? How could anyone?

Hybrids often get treated like pets, but they’re still human. 

“Ungrateful cunt. Can't you see I’m trying to do something nice for you?!” Kangdae roars, and you feel the sting on your face before it registers what happened. He just slapped you.

You’re still in shock and a bit of pain as he grabs his car keys and a jacket. You cradle your cheek as you numbly ask, “Where are you going?”

“I’m going for a drink. Don’t wait up for me.” He slams the door on his way out. You blink back the tears as a deafening silence follows the roar of his engine, the squeals of his tires as he takes off.

Is this all your fault again? Are you being ungrateful?

No, no. Kangdae is the one taking things too far. And you’re so fed up with it.

You've always been afraid to speak up for yourself. You’ve always been a coward, and wanted to play things safe. You’ve always let him walk all over you. You could never save yourself from such a miserable situation.

You’re so preoccupied with your thoughts, you almost forgot you aren’t alone. The sound of rustling catches your attention, and you see the bunny hybrid trying to unravel himself from the ribbon binding him.

“I can help you,” you offer, and he flinches at your voice. You soften your tone and try again. “Would you let me? I promise, I won’t hurt you.”

He thinks about it for a moment, glancing at you with suspicion and weariness. But he nods his head. Despite how bruised up he is, he probably figures he could overpower you if you really intended to harm him.

The two of you are silent as you untie the long ribbon from his wrists and slip it off his torso. But being this close to him also gives you a good view on all the cuts and sores he received from the fight.

Your heart sinks for him. Not only is it highly illegal, but this one is a prey. They’re not supposed to fight in the first place.

“Wait here,” you tell him once he’s free from the bondage. He rubs his wrist, but continues to sit on the floor. Nothing is really stopping him from leaving on his own, so you hurry to find a first-aid kit.

When you return to the living room, the bunny hybrid is still there. He hasn’t moved an inch from his spot. He eyes the little box in your hands, seeming to recognize it.

“I think this should help with some of your wounds. Is it okay if I help you with this too?”

This time, he nods his head more eagerly.

Again, a silence falls between you two. But it isn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it’s been a while since you’ve been in the presence of someone else and the silence felt natural. Every now and then, you’d give him a head’s up about the sting of a topical spray or ask him if the bandage you’re wrapping around him is too tight. And he watches you the whole time, nodding and shaking his head when prompted, seeming used to this. You wonder how often he has to treat his own wounds after being thrown in battle.

The silence is cut when his stomach growls loudly. He looks incredibly embarrassed as you offer a small smile. “I have some food in the fridge if you’re hungry. Let me just finish doing this.”

It doesn’t take too much time at all to treat his wounds and wrap fresh bandages on his injuries. You’ve only encountered hybrids a couple times, so you’re not entirely sure what he’d like to eat. You assume fruits and vegetables, but would that be enough?

You start to pull them out and you’re startled when you see the hybrid standing over your shoulder. You see him eyeing a jar of kimchi and take that out as well.

“Does kimchi fried rice sound good to you?” you ask him, and he nods his head more excitedly. His eyes look brighter too, as if you guessed exactly what he’s craving.

Endeared, you begin to get to work. You pull out the leftover rice, sauces, and the ingredients needed to cook it. The hybrid watches as you chop the vegetables and first cook out the onions before adding in the other vegetables and rice. In another pan, you fry a couple eggs to serve over the rice, and sprinkle some toppings of sesame seeds, nori, and sliced green onion. You ransack your fridge for some side dishes you could pair it with, serving some yellow pickled radishes, pickled cucumbers, and seaweed salad in small bowls.

The hybrid watches with big, round eyes and a jittering leg as you set the food before him. You tell him to eat and you barely take a bite of your own dish before he picks up his bowl and devours it like he hasn’t eaten in days. His brows are furrowed and he starts huffing, but he’s quick to grab the side dish closest to him and cleans that as well.

“Is it good?” you ask him tentatively. 

He gives a brief nod, mouth too full to answer, and fills his bowl with seconds.

“I’m glad. I would’ve made more if I had known you’d be this hungry,” you tell him, heart full just seeing him eat well.

You can’t help but feel sorry for him. You can’t imagine what he’s been through, and you don’t want him to be sent back to his owner. You don’t want him to be put in another dangerous and exploiting situation.

“I’m sorry about him. That guy that was here earlier,” you begin. You’ve barely eaten, but you push your share toward him. “He’s not a nice person.”

The bowl he takes from you covers his face, but his ears twitch toward you. They show that he’s listening to you.

“Your owner isn’t a nice person either, huh?”

The hybrid freezes at the mention of his owner. He lowers the bowl a little and he looks terrified. For the first time, he speaks to you. His word is barely a whisper. “Don’t…”

This time, your eyes widen. “What?”

“Please…” he begs, putting the bowl down. Grains of rice stick around his mouth as he looks at you with pleading eyes. “Please don’t let me go back to him. Please help me.”

Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reviews are greatly appreciated!

Masterlist | Next

[mikeyisbrooklyn]

First Share A Song Sunday of February! This one’s coming later than midday cause I’ve had a day! (and not a good one🫠)

This one is called “Waiting For You (Again)”! I unfortunately had a bad habit in the past of waiting around on people to treat me right. This is for all my (ex-)doormats! You deserve better.

As always, link to the video if you wanna watch it here: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPR3Mmy8q/

[random-xpressions]

Do they hear?

Even if they did, do they understand?

Even if they did, do they love?

Even if they did, will that last?

Random Xpressions

[clowncloud]

to be loved

is to be changed

[thewritingofspencerrose]

To Be Loved | To Be Alone With You

Luke Hughes x Austen Kelce

"Luke? What are you doing at my brother's front door?"

He stands there, curls I love so much hidden under a devils hat and sweats on, a tote bag I had left in Jersey on his shoulder.

"Wow, act like you miss me a little less, yeah?" He retorts, albeit jokingly as his brows raise.

"You know that's not what I meant," I remind, brows still as furrowed as before. "Don't you have a game tomorrow?"

"It's at home, which is all of an hour and a half from here," Is his returned reasoning this time.

"And the reason you're at my brother's door is? I remember telling you I offered to babysit for Jason and Kylie weeks ago when you asked about Valentine's day plans?"

"And I called him up and told him that he was more than welcome to help you watch the girls, given they're all already in bed and you're going to be all by your lonesome," my sister-in-law chimes, coming up behind me and wrapping her arms around my neck in a hug. "I wasn't going to let you spend your first Valentine's day together apart when the kid lives in Jersey."

I can't help but look between Lu and Ky, Luke looking hesitant in her presence as he holds my tote out to me in offering.

"I brought your favorite takeout from the joint in jersey we can warm up, matching pajama bottoms and my red Devs hoodie you always steal," He seems to feel the need to explain. "And I brought you three of those "Blind Date with a Book" things you were showing me at the book store last month. I figured you'd enjoy them."

"I hate you," I can't help but mumble, the tears in my eyes causing him to step forward and wrap me in his arms, eyes wide as they make contact with Ky.

"Don't worry, Kid. It means she loves you," Jason's voice is the next to join the conversation, coming up beside his wife. "Now, ground rules. No kissing, no touching, no naked touching, nothing rated more than G on the TV-"

"And that's enough out of him," Ky hushes Jas, putting a hand over his mouth. "You can ignore everything he just said, I trust you guys to not do something stupid," She assures as Lu and I chuckle at the behavior I wish I could say is unusual for my brothers. "We're going to go, call us if you need anything."

"We won't, have fun tonight," I assure, Luke shifting us out of the older couple's way to allow them to leave.

"I'm serious! If you make me an uncle in my own home I'm calling Trav and we're killing you, Hughes," Jason threats, the words ringing as Ky shoves him down the front walk, Luke nodding in a wordless answer as they go, Ky only shooting us a smile before shutting the door behind them.

"You drove all the way here and packed us dinner, just because I was busy?" I can't help but ask, turning in his arms and craning my neck.

"I'd drive any distance to get to see you," He answers, cupping my cheeks with large hands and giving me a kiss. "Now, I'm going to go put dinner in the oven to warm up, you want to go change and we can reconvene in 10 in front of the tv?"

All I can do is smile and nod, stealing the pjs and hoodie he brought me from the bag with dinner and all and handing the bag back to his waiting hand.

One more peck and a promise to meet me in the living room sends me off, and he fulfills his promise when I see him sat behind the coffee table, dinner in front of him while he clicks through the tv for a movie.

"Tadah!" I exclaim, throwing my hands up as I move into his view, his hoodie sleeves pooling at my elbows due to their length.

Red plaid pj pants that I can see he's in his own pair of, the red hoodie matching exactly in a way that makes my head happy.

"You look gorgeous, Baby," He compliments, waving me over to his side, and tucking me into it and kissing the top of my head.

"Thank you for driving here," I mumble, enjoying his warmth.

"We'll have to thank Kylie when she gets home, she's the one who called me up," A shy smile taking over at the admittance.

"God, what did my brother do to deserve her."