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redrose10 · 7 months

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Part 1

Here is part 1 of this new story that I’m working on. I was going to post it as one big chapter, but I’ve received feedback that multiple chapters are preferred so that’s the route I went. I really hope that everyone likes it! This first part is very very angsty.

Inn Keeper Yoongi x Female Author Reader

Summary: You have never experienced true love which is hilarious considering you write romance novels for a living. When you end up staying at The Interlude Inn located in Holly Falls you start to wonder if maybe the answer to your newest love story is sitting behind the welcome desk. Quickly, you find out that Min Yoongi hides a lot of pain and sorrow behind his shy smiles and quick glances.

Warnings: (may get updated) Swearing, character death, very very angsty for a while, mentions of physical and verbal abuse, bullying, a really mean letter, panic attacks, eventual light smut, eventual fluff

Word Count: 9,602

Tag List: @viankiss

You slunk down in your office chair hanging your head low. Your boss had just chewed you out after you presented her with a draft of your newest novel that you had thought you were just about finished with, but it appears you were going to have to start from the beginning.

“I’m guessing it didn’t go as well as you thought it would?”, your best friend and coworker, Nari responded.

“She said that it’s not believable and that I need to use my own personal experiences as inspiration. I can’t keep writing the same story over and over just changing the names and location. The reader will be able to connect with it more if it’s from experience. I have two months to send her the new story or I’m on unpaid leave until I submit something worth publishing. It’s such bullshit.”, you huffed.

“I mean she kind of has a point. Anyone can put a bunch of words down on a piece of paper, but unless there is real feeling behind it then those words won’t get far.”

You rolled your eyes, “Seriously? You too? And what personal experience should I use?”

“Y/N you’ve been in relationships before. Just use one of them or a combination of all of them.”

“Oh yeah, should I go with the one who cheated on me or the one who ghosted me after he got me in his bed, or the one that would loose his temper at the smallest thing I did to upset him? I’ve never had a good relationship experience.”, you chuckle self deprecatingly.

“Hey Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to rub it in like that. Maybe try writing something else. Not every story has to be about a relationship, good or bad.”

Running your hands over your face you sighed, “I just don’t know what to do any more. I feel so burnt out and unmotivated. I don’t think I could come up with another story if I wanted to.”

“Why don’t you take a break? You know, get out of town for a while. I’m sure our boss won’t mind, especially if it gets you to clear your head and write something decent.”

Pondering this theory for a minute you began to think she might be on to something.

“Where would I go though? I can’t really afford to travel far and I don’t want to be too distracted that I can’t get anything done.”

After some silence Nari jumped up, “Oh I’ve got the perfect place. It’s just a four hour flight out to the countryside. A little town called, Holly Falls. My sister and her fiancé stayed there several months ago.”

Thinking it over a little it sounded like a good idea. After some begging and promising your boss that you were going to get work done while on the trip she agreed.

Once you arrived at the airport you really wished you’d done a little more research about Holly Falls. After some digging and a conversation with a very outgoing Uber Driver you found out that eleven months out of the year the town is very low key and relaxed, but for one month it is a tourist hotspot thanks to the insane amount of blooming cherry blossom trees. According to your new Uber friend, people come to Holly Falls during this month to see the fields of trees blooming in all their glory. The normally quiet town embraces the crowds providing various festivals and parades and gimmicks to draw in the guests as well as their wallets. And of course you just happen to travel over there smack dab in the middle of it all.

The driver dropped you off in the middle of the fun so with your bag slung over your shoulder you started heading into different hotels trying to book a room. In the city you could walk into pretty much any hotel at any time and book a room. You had assumed it would be same in this small town so you had decided to wait to book a room until you could see them in person wanting to get the feel and make sure you chose the right fit. You imagine in any other month it would be much easier to obtain a place to stay here, but due to the large tourist presence every single hotel was completely booked for the entire month.

You were just about ready to give up and head to the airport to see about booking a flight home when an older gentleman came up to you carrying various handmade trinkets for sale.

“See anything you like miss? All of these are under $10.”, he asked.

Politely you smiled, “No thank you. Not right now.”

You thought he had left until you saw him dangling a hand painted sun catcher in front of you. The design a beautiful beautiful cherry blossom. Trying to bite your tongue and not snap at the elderly man you again shook your head. “Here have it for free. You seem to need a little cheering up.”, he smiled.

Reaching up you grabbed the delicate glass from him, “Thank you. I really appreciate it. I’m sorry if I came off rude. I’m just really stressed out right now.”

“Didn’t know about the cherry blossom season and now you can’t find a place to stay?”, he asked. “How did you know?”, you replied wide eyed. The elderly man chuckled while taking a seat next to you, “There’s always at least one person that gets stuck here with nowhere to stay because they didn’t know how crazy things can get around here this time of the year.”

“Mmh yeah that would be me this year. I need somewhere to stay for a couple weeks or I’m going to have to head back home.” “You know there might be somewhere that still has a room available. It’s just outside all of the hubbub. About ten miles just over that hill. If you get to Taehyung’s Strawberry Farm then you’ve gone too far.”, he said pointing in the opposite direction of the festivities. “Really? You think they’d have a room? I wonder why they wouldn’t be booked like every other place.”

The gentleman stood up from the bench you were both on, “Its worth a shot. It’s a little farther away from all the action than people like to be. Plus the owners are a little on the unique side.”

You were concerned at this statement. The last thing you wanted to do was end up being the story line of a true crime documentary.

He continued, “They are very nice people. A young man and his grandmother. They just tend to be very secluded and to themselves. It’s called Interlude Inn. You can’t miss it.”

You thanked him for the information and watched as he walked into a large group of people trying to sell the rest of his merchandise. Placing the delicate sun catcher in your bag you ordered another Uber to take you over to the inn. A familiar vehicle quickly pulled up in front of you with the same talkative man from earlier. You wondered how there weren’t any other drivers available, but you smiled as you slid in the back seat anyways.

“Leaving so soon?”, he asked.

You chuckled, “No I just need to find somewhere else to stay. Can you please take me to The Interlude Inn?” Suddenly the man stopped, turning to look back at you.

“Miss you don’t want to stay there. Surely there’s somewhere else around here you can stay.”

“Every hotel is completely booked. If this inn doesn’t have a room then I’ll have to just go home.”

He sighed, “Alright miss. If you insist.”

He began the drive to your location. His words about finding somewhere else stuck in your mind.

“Sir?”

“Yes Miss”

“What you said earlier. What is so bad about this inn?”

“Well, the grandma, I think her name is Mae, is very sweet. She’s done the best she can with what she had. But that Min boy, he’s a little odd.”

“Ohhh…Like serial killer odd?”

The man chuckled, “No not that kind of odd. He’s just very quiet and keeps to himself, but he is polite. He’s never seemed to have any friends and I doubt he’s ever had any kind of relationship. He comes into town only a few times a year, mostly when his grandmother needs something. He doesn’t acknowledge anyone, even when they speak to him directly. People usually only stay at the inn as a last resort during this busy season.”

From what you’re hearing he seemed like just a quiet introverted person who loves his grandma. You weren’t sure why everyone seemed so leery of him.

The car pulled up infront of the inn. The large wooden sign out front verified you were indeed at The Interlude Inn. Thanking your driver you grabbed your bag and made your way up to the entrance.

The Inn looked cozy and welcoming. It was smaller than you had imagined. There couldn’t be more than three or four rooms. Off to the side you noticed a little garden with various plants starting to bloom.

On the door hung a welcome sign adorned with hand painted lady bugs and butterflies. Turning the handle you gently pushed in the door being greeted by a heavenly aroma making your stomach grumble. The entrance room which also doubled as a living room had two couches, one on either side of a coffee table. A television hung on the wall above a fireplace. In the corner was a small desk which you assume would be where you could request a room.

Walking over you noticed a younger man crouching down so he was eye level with one of the drawers. He appeared to be about your age, mid to late twenties. Black hair with a slight curl to it hung over his forehead. Beautiful cat like eyes and his soft lips formed into a deep pout. You wanted so badly to reach over and squeeze his chubby cheeks, but you knew that was a weirdness you didn’t want to invoke. He was fidgeting with a drawer that seemed to be stuck and you could here the argument he was having in soft whispers,

“Come on you stupid thing.”

“It shouldn’t be this difficult.”

“Please, I just need a pen and then I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day.”

You chuckled hearing him begging the drawer to cooperate. Reaching into your bag you grabbed one of your spare pens and set it on the desk, “Here I have a pen you could use.”

The young man let out a sudden squeal after you startled him. He jumped backwards and landed on his behind with a loud thud.

“Oh no I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you had heard me come in.”, you apologized feeling terrible.

The poor guy sat on the ground trying to collect himself before bringing himself back to a standing position. That’s when you noticed his cheeks were a bright shade of red, making you want to squeeze them even more. The man didn’t say a word. His eyes were barely able to focus on you, instead they would move around the room before returning to you for just a second before he’d quickly look elsewhere.

“Ahh this must be the Min boy the driver was talking about?”, you thought to yourself. They weren’t kidding when they said he was quiet and reserved.

“Hi, I’m sorry again for scaring you. I was just wondering if you had a room I could rent for a couple weeks.”

The man just continued looking around the room.

“It’s okay if you don’t have any available. It was just recommended for me to come up here for a room since all the others are booked.”

Again silence. You were about to ask if he was okay when a door off to the left swung open and a very sweet looking elderly woman came walking out. She must be the grandmother that was mentioned. She was covered in flour so you assumed that’s where the heavenly smell was coming from.

“Yoongi dear did you get that pen yet? I need to label the jars of blueberry jam.”, she spoke. When she noticed you she jumped slightly, but not in a scared kind of way. More like an oh no how long have you been standing there while my grandson stares at you kind of way.

“Oh hi sweety, how can we help you?”, she asked. Her grandson, that you now knew was named Yoongi, was still standing off to the side. You had to intently stare at his chest to make sure he was still breathing because you were honestly getting very concerned for him.

“Yes ma’am, I was wondering if you had any available rooms that I could rent for the next couple of weeks?”

She smiled while pulling out an old and beat up note book to take down your info. You liked the old school feel. It was much different than the digital kingdom of the city where you lived.

“Of course dear. Did you need one bed or two?”

“Just one will be fine.”

“Okay and you said two weeks?”

“Yes please.”

“No problem. Just fill out your name and address here. Payment will be due at the end of your stay when you check out.”

Quickly you wrote down all the requested information before handing the book back over. You couldn’t help but notice that Yoongi still hadn’t moved, but his cheeks were still a bright shade of pink so you knew he was at least breathing.

The grandma spoke again, “Thank you so much dear. My name is Mae, but you can call me grandma, granny, halmeoni, MaeMae, just don’t call me late for dinner.”

Even though you’ve heard that joke countless times you still laughed. Something about this sweet woman warmed your heart.

She continued, “This is my grandson Yoongi. He can help you with your bags and show you to your room. You’re more than welcome to join us for dinner. It should be ready in about twenty minutes or so.”

You thanked her profusely and watched as she walked back into the kitchen. Yoongi walked around the desk without making eye contact. He reached for your bag that was currently sitting on the ground and you noticed a shake to his hand due to his nerves.

“Uh uh um y-you c-can follow me.”, he spoke before walking down the long hallway. He opened the door to small cozy room. A window sat overlooking the garden. A bed adorned with a lilac colored quilt sat against the wall. There was a dresser available for storage and a desk off to the side. It was perfect.

Yoongi laid your bag down at the foot of the bed. You wanted to ask him if he needed to lie down based on how terrified he looked. Instead you opted to try and get him to speak to you at all.

“Hi Yoongi, I’m Y/N. It’s really nice to meet you.”

You stuck your hand out offering a hand shake. It was getting awkward waiting for him to return the gesture, but just before you were going to dejectedly pull your hand back he reached up and took your hand in his.

With his cheeks back to bright red he quickly bowed and walked out of the room closing the door behind him.

Since dinner was going to be ready soon you opted to just lay in bed enjoying the comfort after a long day of travel. When Mae called you for dinner you entered the dining room surprised to only see her and Yoongi sat at the table.

“Am I the only guest?”, you asked suddenly feeling out of place.

“Yes dear, but don’t worry. We are so happy to have you here.”, she smiled pulling out a chair for you.

You nodded taking the offered seat while she filled up your bowl with some beef soup.

“So Y/N, what brings you to Holly Falls? I’m assuming it’s the cherry blossoms.”, she asked.

“Oh no I just needed to take a little vacation and clear my head. Having some work problems. My friend recommended this town to me. I didn’t even know about the cherry blossoms until I got here.”

“Well you’re going to love it here. There’s no more of a relaxing place.”

You smiled and accepted the second helping of soup. The two of you kept the conversation going talking about this and that. Yoongi never said a word. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed him sneaking little glances in your direction before quickly turning his head but you chose to ignore it, not wanting to embarrass him.

After dinner you offered to help clean up the kitchen which was greatly appreciated. Mae sent Yoongi out to the garden to collect some chamomile to make tea. As she rinsed off the dishes you would take them and dry them before putting them in their respective spots.

“Thank you for being gentle with Yoongi.”, she spoke breaking the silence.

You weren’t quite sure what she meant by that and apparently your face showed it because she continued,

“He really is such a caring and sweet young man. He’s just been hurt so many times and he’s so afraid of letting someone in for fear of it happening again. I worry what will happen to him when I’m no longer here. I don’t want him to be alone. He deserves the world and I hope that one day he finds someone that will give it to him.”

You wanted to ask questions, but felt it wasn’t a good idea to pry when you’ve only known this family for a few hours.

“He seems very sweet. I’d love to get to know him more.”, you responded.

“Oh please do. Go slow, but I think if you keep at it he just might open up to you. As soon as you went to your room he came to me and said you seemed like a very genuine person.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at the thought.

“Do you know if he has any interests or anything? Maybe something I could ask him about.”

She lightly chuckled, “Well he loves music. He has these notebooks that he’s always writing lyrics in, but he has never let anyone look at them. He likes basketball. He was really good when he was younger, but he doesn’t play it much any more. Oh! And you’d never guess it but he likes to knit. He’d be furious if he ever found out I told you that so you didn’t hear that one from me.”

You nodded in agreement before putting the final plate away just as Yoongi returned with the requested chamomile. He shyly smiled at you before nervously running out of the room. After enjoying a cup of tea you said goodnight and made your way back to your room for the evening.

The following morning you cranklily padded to the dining area. Mornings were not your thing. Thankfully you were greeted with the smell of coffee and fresh baked bread. Mae was nowhere to be seen, but Yoongi was standing at the counter chopping some vegetables for what you presumed was an omelet based on all the ingredients in front of him. You stood in the doorway thankful that he hadn’t noticed you yet as it gave you a chance again to admired his features. You smiled at how the tip of his tongue poked out in concentration as he focused on chopping an onion.

Silently you walked up next to him and smiled, “Anything I can help with?” The poor thing nearly jumped two feet in the air also letting the knife slip which sliced the tip of his thumb. When you saw the small amount of blood coming to the surface you panicked.

“Oh my goodness I am so sorry Yoongi. I didn’t mean to scare you like that. What was I thinking?”, you said grabbing his hand and pulling him over to the sink. He hadn’t said a word.

After thoroughly washing the cut and using a paper towel to dry it you asked if there were any bandaids. Shyly he pointed underneath the sink and you found a first aid kit.

“Okay this might sting a little.”, you said applying the disinfectant. You felt awful when you saw his body flinch. After the cut was securely wrapped in a bandaid you began apologizing again, “I’m so sorry Yoongi. This is not how I intended for this to go. Are you going to be okay? Does it hurt still? Is there anything I can do?”

For the first time since you arrived you saw a full blown smile on his face. He shook his head, “N-No thank you. I think I’ll be okay.”

“Well let me help you prepare breakfast. It’s the least I can do.”

After some hesitation he agreed so you cleaned up the work station and got a new cutting board before you got to work chopping the rest of the vegetables. When breakfast was over and you had helped clean up you decided to go back to your room for a while and try to get some work done. Unfortunately things weren’t going that great. You were still struggling to put together a decent storyline and after two hours of staring at your laptop you decided to give up and take a break.

Peaking out the window you noticed Yoongi working in the garden. He looked adorable in his overalls and dark green sweater. A matching green beanie on to give a little more warmth. You wondered if he had knit it himself. You grabbed your jacket and decided to head outside for some fresh air.

Not wanting a repeat from the morning you loudly made your presence known as to not startle him again. Only when you were sure that he had noticed you did you decided to say something.

“What are you working on?”, you asked crouching down next to him.

He whispered something that you couldn’t quite catch. You noticed the redness intensifying in his cheeks too. He was just so incredibly cute.

“What kind of seeds are these?”

“Oh they are um cabbage and um radish seeds.”, he said without looking up from the dirt.

“Hmmm I know nothing about gardening, but isn’t it still too cold to plant these? I always thought it needed to be hot for seeds to grow.”

“S-Some s-seeds can grow when it’s colder out. Then we’ll h-harvest them and p-plant the rest.”

“Ahhh I see. I never even knew that was possible. What else are you planting?”

Did you care about gardening or seeds or soil quality? No absolutely not. But this was the most Yoongi has spoken to you so you rattled off question after question and made odd comments here and there just to get him to keep talking. By the time you were done his face was beet red and his hands were shaking quite a bit more than earlier. You were starting to feel bad and like you were pushing him past his breaking point so you wanted to give him some space.

Standing up and brushing the dirt off your knees you said, “Well it’s gotten quite chilly out. I’m gonna head inside. Thank you for teaching me so much. Maybe one day I’ll have a garden and you could come see it for yourself.”

He nodded without looking up at you and you took that as his way of saying goodbye. Once inside you found a smiling Mae standing in the kitchen.

She handed you hot bowl of leftover soup for lunch and sat at the table next to you.

“You know, that’s the longest I’ve ever seen him converse with someone other than me in a long long time. Normally he’d just get up and walk away without saying a word.”

The thought of asking about Yoongi’s past crossed your mind again, but you pushed it aside still not feeling that it was the right time.

The next couple days followed a similar path. You’d wake up, help Yoongi make breakfast, try to work for a little, and then you’d go find Yoongi and try to talk to him and get him to open up to you. He never said much but he’d nod or say a word here or there to let you know he was listening. Mae would always be amazed at how well Yoongi responded to you. After a while you’d give him some space and then join the two of dinner followed by tea and then you’d head off to bed.

On the fifth day you decided to go out and explore a little. You ended up at Taehyung’s Strawberry farm which was just up the road from the Inn. Taehyung or Tae as he told you to call him was a very kind and outgoing guy. The farm had been passed down in his family for six generations. He gave you a tour of the entire farm and introduced you to his farmhands/friends Jin, Hoseok, Namjoon, and Jungkook. Jin was in charge of harvesting the strawberries and also coming up with new items to sell at the onsite bakery. Hoseok or Hobi as he was called was in charge of maintenance of the crops, things like making sure they got enough water but not too much water and pruning the plants where necessary. Namjoon was the bookkeeper. He kept track of orders and anything numbers related. Jungkook was the youngest of the four. According to Tae, he was the muscle of the group and would do various things around the farm that involved a lot of physical strength.

They all seemed like very sweet gentleman and made you feel very welcome from the start.

“So what brings you all the way out here? Most people try to stay closer to the main town this time of year.”, Jin asked setting a strawberry cream puff in front of you.

“I wasn’t able to get a room in town so I’m staying at The Interlude Inn.”

“I see. With Mae and Yoongi? How are they doing? I’ve been meaning to stop by and drop off a strawberry pie for them.”

“They seem to being doing well. They’ve been so hospitable.”

“Even Yoongi?”, Jungkook said taking a seat next to you. You noticed a hint of a chuckle in his question.

“Yes even Yoongi. He’s on the quiet side, but I think he’s starting to warm up to me a little bit.”

“Wow he must really like you then. I’ve been trying to get him to open up for years.”, Taehyung said walking over.

“What do you mean?”, you asked confused as to why everyone always seems to think he’s some cold jerk.

He continued, “We’ve just been trying to get him to hang out with us for the last few years. I’ve offered him multiple jobs around here. We’ve invited him over for dinner or to go get drinks in town. Namjoon tried to set him up on a date with his sister. He just always turns and walks away without saying a word. We’ve kind of just given up.”

“Oh yeah I guess maybe I’m just special then.”, you said before taking another bite of the cream puff.

It was pretty late by the time you had gotten back to the inn. Jin had given you a ride back as it looked like there was an early spring thunderstorm about to hit. When you walked inside you set the strawberry pie on the counter. Mae had already gone to sleep, but Yoongi was sitting in the common area watching a basketball game. He looked so cozy wrapped up in a hoodie that was a little too big for him and a fluffy fleece blanket on his lap. Now that you thought about it he was always dressed very warmly. Sweatshirts, sweaters, or multiple layers all with long sleeves. You’ve never seen any skin other than his hands and neck and face. It was on the chilly side being that it was barely the beginning of the spring, but nothing that you thought warranted that kind of clothing constantly. It was odd to you, but nothing you wanted to question him about right now because maybe it was just a comfort thing for him you thought. Instead you walked over to the couch making your presence known so that you didn’t startle him.

“Mind if I join you?”, you asked. Silently he scooted over to make room and you took that as a yes. You watched the game for a few minutes trying to come up with something to say, but you really didn’t know much about basketball or sports in general.

“Is that Michael Jordan?”, you asked after the camera followed a player who had just scored a basket.

Yoongi’s eyebrows furrowed as he shook his head.

“Lebron James?”

He shakes his head.

“Steph Curry?”

Again another head shake.

You chuckled, “Well those are the only basketball players I know so I give up.”

Out of the corner of your eye you saw the slightest smile from on his lips which you took as encouragement to continue.

“Oh so did he just score a touchdown?”, you asked. In reality you knew that was a completely different sport, but you were hoping that somehow this would get a little engagement on his part.

You looked at him expectantly noticing his cheeks heat up under your stare.

“Umm n-no that was a free throw, not a touchdown.”

“Hmm and a free throw is worth one or two points?”

“It’s w-worth one point.”

You didn’t want to over stress him out so you decided to give him some quiet and stop with the questions for a while.

The referee in the game blew his whistle and started making a bunch of hand gestures. You were about to lean over and ask about it when a bright flash of light shown through the windows followed by a loud clap of thunder. The floor beneath your feet seemed to shake from the force. Another flash of light lit up the room and some more thunder hit making even you jump a little.

“Wow that’s some storm.”, you said looking over at Yoongi only to be met with nothing.

“Yoongi?”, you question looking around the room wondering how he was able to get up and run so fast.

After standing up from the couch and walking towards the kitchen to see if maybe he had went in there you saw the fleece blanket he was holding earlier leaning up against the back of the couch and thanks to the added light from another lightning strike you noticed that the blanket was also covering a lump. Getting closer you saw little tufts of black hair poking out. Gently you reached and pulled the blanket down slightly. You could feel your heart breaking seeing him like this. Curled up in a ball with his hands over his ears and tears on his cheeks.

“Yoongi it’s okay. It’s just a thunderstorm.”, you said trying to soothe him. When your words didn’t seem to help you went to reach for his hand feeling him tense at your touch.

“No please don’t hurt me. Please.”, he cried out making you recoil. “Yoongi it’s Y/N. I’m not going to hurt you. Just let me get you to be-.” You felt a hand on your should and found Mae looking down at you with a sad expression on her face. She bent down the best she could in her old age to get his attention and when he finally recognized her the tension seemed to leave his body, at least momentarily until another crack of thunder rang through the air.

Mae helped him up off the ground and you’d stayed m back watching as she helped him down the hall, his legs shaking ever so slightly. Just before they entered his room Mae turned to you and pointed towards the kitchen. You took the hint and went to get a couple cups of tea ready.

After about fifteen minutes she returned and took a seat next to you thanking you for the tea.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.”, she sighed.

“No I just, I don’t, I…”, you couldn’t find the words. You knew it was slightly odd for a grown adult to be that petrified of a thunderstorm, but you knew there must be a reason. Judging by Mae’s reaction this seemed to be a common occurrence. You just didn’t know how to move forward without sounding rude.

“Mae, please forgive me if this comes off to forward or harsh, but has some thing happened to Yoongi in his past?”

She took a sip of tea before getting more comfortable in the chair and nodding her head.

“Yes dear. Yoongi, my sweet sweet Yoongi, has been through a lot. More than any person should have to especially at his young age. You see Yoongi’s father left a few weeks after he was born. Yoongi was born too early and was very small and sickly. His father didn’t want any part of his life. My daughter did the best she could with Yoongi. I helped whenever I could as well. She was such a loving mother. When Yoongi was about two years old she married a man who I didn’t necessarily approve of, but there was nothing I could do. She was an adult and she seemed happy. He quickly moved my daughter and Yoongi to the other side of the country. I only got to see them a couple times year. I started to have suspicions that something was wrong when Yoongi was four years old. I went to visit and noticed that my daughter and Yoongi both had old bruises. When I questioned it my daughter claimed that she tripped while carrying him and fell down some stairs. Then when Yoongi was six he told me how he had heard his mom and stepdad in their bedroom making lots of noise. His mom was yelling and there were loud bangs, but he couldn’t hear what she was saying. I questioned her once again and she said that her and her husband must’ve just gotten too loud while in bed together and that she’d remind him in the future that they needed to be quieter. I wasn’t completely convinced, but I had no other proof.”

Mae took a long breath clear that this was hard for her to recall and you were starting to feel guilty for even asking.

She continued on, “When Yoongi was about seven his mom got very sick and unfortunately passed away. I tried to visit him more, but as time went on his step dad cut me off more and more. I tried getting a court involved, but he was considered his legal guardian and without any significant proof there was nothing they could do. So I tried to do what I could. Over time I noticed a change in Yoongi. He was sadder, seemed more down on himself. I rarely ever saw that smile that used to melt my heart. He was having a hard time at school. The friends he had stopped hanging out with him. Then one day when he was around thirteen he said something back to his stepdad and his stepdad beat him so badly the neighbors ended up calling the police because of the noise.”

She stopped to take a shaky breath. Tears forming in her eyes. You hadn’t even noticed that you had started biting your bottom lip trying to stop your own tears from falling until the subtle taste of blood hit your tongue.

Once again she continued, “Thankfully his stepfather was arrested that night and eventually sentenced to forty five years in prison, but it was already too late and the damage was done. When I got to the hospital that night they started showing me different x-rays and scans and going over Yoongi’s injuries. It was worse than I had ever thought. There were old fractures that hadn’t healed correctly. Scars both fresh and old covered his body from where his stepfather would beat him with a tree branch or use his skin to put out his cigarettes. He had torn his shoulder at one point and because it was never properly taken care of he’s always in pain, even to this day. He had surgery to correct it, but it only helped a little. I cried in the hospital. He was released after a week and came to live here with me. I was taking him to therapy a couple times a week and he seemed to be getting on the right track. He was smiling more and getting a little more talkative. I had enrolled him in the high school here and he made a couple friends. I knew there’d always be a part of him that struggled, but I thought that maybe he was going to be able to move past all of this for the most part and go on to have a happy healthy life. When he was in his second to last year of high school there was going to be a big dance and after some convincing he asked a girl to go with him as a date and she said yes. So I got him a brand new suit and the day of the dance we went and picked out a beautiful bouquet of flowers. I offered to drive him, but he didn’t want to be embarrassed by his grandma driving him around, you know how teenagers are. So I watched him walk out the door.”

Mae took a moment to composer herself by staring out the kitchen window. You in no way wanted to rush her.

She took another sip and then went on, “I was in the kitchen a little while later when I heard the front door swing open and slam back shut. I thought it was much too early for Yoongi to be home already and assumed it must be some guests so I cleaned myself up real quick and walked out to greet them, but instead…instead I found Yoongi with tears streaming down his cheeks and then I noticed his suit was covered in brightly colored paint. He still had the bouquet of flowers in his hand except they were now all damaged and dirty. He refused to tell me what happened and ran off to his room. Monday morning I went to the school and apparently the girl and some of her friends, including her actual date, were all waiting for Yoongi to show up at the school. When he got there they all poured cans of paint onto him and called him a freak and a monster. I was told that one of the other boys saw Yoongi’s scars when they were changing for gym class and started making fun of him for it. This girl had no intention of actually going to the dance with him and told him he was ugly and would never be loved because of the way he looked. I tried to have all of those kids reprimanded, but Yoongi refused to cooperate so the school said their hands were tied. He begged me to take him out of school and homeschool him instead which I did, but he’s been pretty much to himself ever since.”

By this point you were full on balling your eyes out. You hadn’t known him for very long, but you could just tell that he was such a sweet gentle person. You didn’t think there could possibly be any thing else that Mae could tell you, but she cleared her throat and went on,

“Honestly, I think the worst thing that ever happened to him was the letter he received from his biological father on his twenty first birthday. I actually still have the letter. I’ve been holding onto it because I think it would be beneficial for Yoongi to be the one to destroy it, but I don’t know how to bring it up to him.”

She slid the letter across the table to you. Shakily you opened it up and immediately noticed the tear smudged ink and you took a deep breath trying to compose yourself before diving in,

“To Yoongi,

You most likely have no idea who I am, but I am your biological father. I left not long after you were born and if my calculations are correct you should be twenty one years old today. You were born early, somehow I’m certain that was your mothers fault even though the doctors said it was not. Anyways, you were born very small and sick. The doctors did not know if you would make it and to be honest I spent most of the time hoping that you wouldn’t. I did not want the burden of having a son, especially a first born, that was weak and useless. I gave your mother an ultimatum, either abandon you and we will move on and have a child that will prosper and do well in life or she can keep you and I will leave. Obviously you see what she chose. I heard that your mother has passed away since then. She was an ignorant woman anyways, wasting her time with a child like you. I told her that you weren’t worth the time which has been proven by the fact that you still live with your grandmother working at that stupid inn. You’ll never be anything more than that. I don’t really know the point of this letter any more. I guess I’m just a little drunk and wanted to get this off my chest after all of these years. Yoongi, I do wish you well. Truly I do because I know deep down that you’ll never achieve it. With regret, Your Father.”

You don’t know at what point you went from crying to blood boiling anger, but it happened.

“What the actual fuck!”, you shouted slamming the letter down on the table. “Sorry, excuse my language.”, you said towards Mae suddenly feeling bad about your outburst. She chuckled, “Don’t worry dear. I said much much worse when I read that letter.”

You continued, “Seriously? Who does something like that? And to their own child on top of it? You walked out of his life let him be. That letter was completely unnecessary. I swear I’m gonna hunt him down and kill him myself.”

Mae shook her head, “No need Y/N. After he dropped the letter off at the post office he drunkingly crashed his car into a tree. Killed him instantly. Unfortunately though, Yoongi never really recovered from this letter. He’s been very reserved and depressed ever since. He’s refused therapy or any help that I offer. I’ve tried for many years to get him to make friends or find a partner or just get out of the house and experience life. I won’t be here forever and I want him to find someone and just be happy for the rest of his time.”

While you would normally never wish harm on anyone it did bring you some joy knowing that his father was no longer around and could never hurt Yoongi again.

“Y/N, I’m sorry to drop all of this on you, but I thought you should get an explanation for what you saw earlier and why he is the way that he is. Yoongi can be kind of jumpy around loud noises and sudden movements and things like that. Please don’t run away from him. I’ve seen him smile more in the week you’ve been here than he has in months. He just sees something in you. I can tell. Call it grandmas intuition if you will. I know you’ll soon have to go back home, but I’m really hoping that maybe you’ll keep in touch with him. No pressure of course. I wouldn’t blame you for not doing it, but I just really think you could be a big positive in his life.”, she said before walking her mug over to the sink.

“Thank you for telling me all of this. I’m sure it was difficult to recount everything.”, you said almost in a whisper. She smiled before laying a hand on your shoulder, “Get some rest Y/N. I’m gonna head off to bed myself. These old bones are tired.”

As you laid in bed you could still hear the faint rumblings of thunder from miles away. You wondered what Yoongi was doing. You hoped he was peacefully sleeping in his bed, but you knew most like that wasn’t the case. It pained your heart to think about what he’d been through. No one deserved to ever have those things happen to them and you decided in that moment that you were going to try and help him. You yourself felt the connection that Mae keeps talking about and you were starting think that maybe things do happen for a reason.

The following morning when you woke up your body felt sore from the stress you experienced. Your first reaction was to go and find Yoongi, but you also knew that he was most likely going to feel embarrassed about what had happened the night before so you opted to take a seat at the desk and try to get some work done. After about an hour and only a couple paragraphs written the smell of bacon started to fill the air and the sound of your stomach grumbling in hunger followed not long after. In the kitchen you found Mae at the stove tending to the bacon. “Would you like some coffee Y/N?”, she smiled. You nodded happily taking the cup from her. Yoongi was already sitting at the table peeling some carrots and potatoes for what you assumed would become part of dinner later. You tried your best to act causally as you took a seat a chair away from him to give him some space.

Mae walked over and set a plate of eggs down in the middle of the table along with the bacon. After Yoongi cleared the vegetables that he was working on the three of you began eating your breakfast.

Mae peaked over at you and with a sly grin she began, “Y/N, thank you for bringing that strawberry pie from Taehyung’s last night. I already snuck a piece as I just couldn’t help myself.”

“Oh you’re very welcome. It did look delicious.”, you replied waiting to see where she was going with this.

“I’m going to make them a big pot of pork stew. It’ll be a good hearty meal for them while they work on the farm. I was thinking that maybe you and Yoongi could take it over to them when it’s finished.”

Now you get it. It was an easy yes for you. You really did like all of the boys from the farm and it would be a chance to spend a little time with Yoongi, but you couldn’t help but notice how red his cheeks had gotten once again and his shoulders visibly tensed. You weren’t going to force him by any means.

“Uh yeah sure that’s no problem for me. I can go alone though if Yoongi doesn’t want to go.”

“Yoongi would you be okay taking some stuff over to the farm with Y/N? For me please.”, Mae asked placing her hand on top of his.

“Okay.”, he whispered with his eyes focused on his lap.

A few hours later your little cart was packed up with a large pot of the stew and some fresh bread and jam. You and Yoongi headed off towards the farm. The first half of the walk was silent other than a few birds or rustle of leaves here or there.

“I’m sorry about last night. If I had known it was going to storm I would’ve stayed in my room to not disturb you.”, he spoke startling you out of your thoughts.

“Yoongi you don’t have to be sorry. And please don’t ever hide who you are from anyone. If they can’t handle who you are then they don’t deserve you in their life.”

He nodded in understanding pulling on his ear. A nervous habit of his. Feeling a little brave you reached for his hand to give it a light squeeze. He jumped slightly, but for a few seconds he let you hold him before removing his touch from yours. You were going to take that as a win.

Entering the strawberry farm you were quickly greeted by Jin and Namjoon. “Hi Y/N, didn’t expect to see you back so soon.”, Jin smiled.

“Mae wanted us to bring over some stew and bread as a thank you for the pie.”, you responded handing over the items from the cart. Jungkook appears out of nowhere excitedly grabbing the bread and jam from you.

“Jeeze I haven’t seen this kid all day, but as soon as food is involved he magically appears.”, Jin rolled his eyes. Taehyung came walking over after noticing your arrival. He wrapped you in a big hug and began making small talk. You could feel Yoongi’s presence behind you. He was almost using your body to shield himself away from everyone.

Taehyung gestured for you to follow him, “Y/N and Yoongi come on into the bakery. We’ve got a new strawberry milk latte we just put on the menu and I want your opinion. Personally I think it’s wayyyy too sweet, but Jin thinks it could be award winning.”

Jin scoffed, “You don’t even like coffee so your opinion means nothing.”

“I think it’s amazing.”, Jungkook added.

“You’d drink lake water and say it was good if we put a flavored milk in it.”, Namjoon quipped.

Chuckling at the argument going on infront of you it took about twelve steps before you realized your shadow was not behind you. When you turned you saw Yoongi was already walking back towards the path to the inn. Namjoon came up behind you and gave you a nudge in Yoongi’s direction and you knew what he meant. Jogging up next to him you reached for his arm, but opted not to as you’d quickly learned touch is not his first choice.

“Hey where are you going? Come hang out with us at the bakery.”, you said once you caught up to him.

He simply shook his head and kept walking.

“They’re really nice guys. They were asking about you yesterday. I think you’d really like them if you gave them a chance.”

Still he continued walking in silence. Without thinking you reached out to grab his arm just in an attempt to stop him, but he flinched.

“No. I just want to be left alone. Please.”, he whimpered near tears.

Instantly you backed off with your hands in the air to give him space and show that you weren’t going to touch him.

“I’m sorry Yoongi. I won’t force you to hang out with them. I just wanted you to get to know them a little. I think it would be good for you.”

He ignored you and began walking back home again. You sent Taehyung a quick text apologizing for your sudden departure and letting him know you’d stop by on a different day to try the latte before you left. Yoongi walked surprisingly fast so you had to go back into a light jog to catch up. You decided to hang back a little and not walk right next to him so you weren’t suffocating him. You pretended not to notice him peeking back to look at you every once in a while.

As you walked you noticed a few cherry blossom trees just over a hill. You’d completely forgot about the trees and made yourself a mental note to go see them before you left Holly Falls. When you finally made it back to the inn Yoongi was waiting for you at the front door.

“You didn’t have to walk back with me. I’m an adult and I could walk back myself.”, he said with a pout.

“I know. I just wanted to come back with you.”

“But what about hanging out with them?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “I’ll go back another time. I’d rather hang out with you anyways.” His face instantly turned a deep shade of red.

“So tell me, what does Yoongi like to do in his spare time?”, you questioned.

“I’d rather just be alone to be honest.”

You wanted to push him harder, but you were concerned with what the outcome might be so instead you gave him a smile and watched as be walked inside letting the door close behind him. Dropping down to take a seat on the steps you let out a long sigh. This was going to be more difficult than you had imagined and to make matters worse you were only supposed to stay for another week.

“Excuse me miss, are there any rooms available?”, someone spoke making you to jump. Since your head was hanging you hadn’t noticed the young man walk up to the front door of the inn. You took in his appearance and noticed how exceptionally handsome he was.

“I just came from the main part of the town and there are no rooms available so it was suggested that I come over here.”, he continued.

“Oh um well I think there might be a couple rooms left, but I’m just a guest as well. If you head inside the check in desk is in the corner and they can help you out.”

The handsome man held out his hand for you, “Sorry I didn’t mean to assume anything. My name is Jimin by the way.”

You smiled graciously accepting his hand, “Y/N and no worries. Hopefully you can get a room. It would be nice to have another person around here to talk to and stuff.”

He chuckled, “Well I guess I better get in there then and see about a room.”

You gently leaned to the side to give home more space to get by before you returned back to wondering how you could get Yoongi to open up to you a little more without making him too uncomfortable.

After he had walked inside Yoongi took a deep breath and after a quick heated discussion with himself going over all the pros and cons he decided that giving you twenty minutes of his time to talk would be good for him and maybe over time he could work up the courage to actually spend time with you, maybe even like a date before you left. The thought of that made his head spin. Just as he was about to open the door to find you he heard your conversation with Jimin and how you said you were glad there was going to be someone else at the inn. He felt his heart crack at that. In Yoongi’s brain you were already done with him just like everyone else in his life, except his grandmother of course. He always managed to chase everyone away. He quickly accepted that he was a lost cause so he scurried off to be alone in his room before you or the new guest could see him. Once in his room he heard you introduce Jimin to Mae. Your voice sounded excited as you showed Jimin to his room just down the hall from yours.

Yoongi sat on his bed squeezing his favorite stuffed animal, a blue koala bear named Koya, a gift from his mother just before she had passed.

He heard you let out a loud laugh at something funny Jimin had said and he curled up on his bed feeling the tears start to fall.

He hated that he was like this. He wanted to be what he would consider normal, but there was this little part of his brain that always reminds him of what he’s been through and how many times he been told how unwanted and unloved he is. Even if he did manage to speak to you he’d never want to burden you with having someone like him in your life. He needs a lot of mental care and you don’t deserve to have someone that week. So he chose to lie in his bed squeezing his Koya a little closer every time he heard you laugh in the hallway wishing it was him that was making react like that instead. Your laugh was just as pretty as you are he thought. With each passing minute he could feel the panic setting in more and more and he eventually used the koala bear to muffle the sobs leaving his body not wanting to disturb you any further.

#bts #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #yoongi fic #yoongi angst #yoongi x y/n #bts fanfic #bts x reader #yoongi au #yoongi fluff #bts fluff #kim seokjin #namjoon #jungkook #taehyung #jimin #hoseok #TheInterludeInn

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cherrrysue · 1 year

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Heyy any Larry fic recommendation without very sad moments and has happy endings

Thank u

i'm sure this is a very old question cause it got into the bottom of my inbox and i've been on hiatus for like almost 2 years and sat in my drafts for a few days but i'm gonna answer it anyway lol. so here it is:

comforting fics with happy endings

Escapade by dolce_piccante

M, 146k

In the grand scheme of things, finding a date for a wedding should be no problem for Louis Tomlinson. He's rich. He's handsome. He's reasonably well behaved. But when the wedding is for his lifelong best friend (and former boyfriend), and is happening in under a month, finding a date for the ceremony and accompanying festivities becomes more of an adventure than he ever could have planned for.

Tired Tired Sea by MediaWhore

M, 113k

As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

Walk That Mile by purpledaisy

E, 149k

Harry stares at him, the line of his jaw standing out scarily. “I wanted to get the most out of this trip so I planned it carefully.” His voice is low and steady and somehow that’s worse than when he was yelling. “So far, you’ve put your sticky fingers on everything I’ve tried to do.”

“Sticky fingers?” Louis repeats, offended. “Are you saying it’s my fault you got stung by a bee? Had you been alone you would have gotten halfway to the Dotty Diner and ran the car off the road because of an allergic reaction, so don’t go blaming me.”

“Polk-A-Dot Drive In,” Harry spits before getting out of the car. He slams the door shut with a deafening reverb and Louis rolls his eyes. - A Route 66 AU where falling in love was never part of the plan.

we can take the long road home by pinkcords

E, 45k

Late afternoon seeps into the cab, just shy of too warm, and the breeze that crosses window to window tosses their hair in their eyes, around their faces. They ride in pleasant silence, the radio humming softly in the background as they speed down the coast, and when Louis looks over, Harry’s smiling to himself, a private happiness born from whatever’s going on in his head. Louis likes to think it has something to do with him, or at the very least, this adventure they’ve embarked on together, chosen to see through to San Diego. Or, Harry and Louis fall in love down the coast of California.

where the tide takes you, i will follow by pinkcords

E, 53k

There’s no way around his departure, their inevitable fate. Harry will leave and he will return to London and when he sits in his new flat, wherever it might be, he will think of this summer and the warmth the sun brought him and the way it felt to be loved. He will compare all his future relationships to Louis and when they fall short, he will be disappointed. Harry knows this. Or, Louis lives in Gloucester and Harry tries to find a way to stay.

Chasing Empty Spaces by Lis (domesticharry)

E, 79k

The year is 1934 and Harry Styles was to inherent the largest tobacco firm in the south. His parents have picked out the “perfect” girl for him to marry and he has the privilege of receiving the highest education possible. The problem was, Harry hadn’t realized he didn’t actually want any part of that future until he met a mechanic named, Louis Tomlinson.

Adore You by isthatyoularry

M, 66k

“We invited our new acquaintances from uptown. You’ve simply got to meet their oldest son!” said his mother with a flourish, and suddenly it became abundantly clear as to why his parents had so adamantly demanded he join them in Deansville for the entirety of the summer. Against his wishes, Harry spends the holidays at his family’s summer estate, and is reluctantly pulled into a courtship he didn’t ask for. Harry doesn’t want to get married, but Louis does. They don’t fit, but then again they really, really do. Vaguely set in the 1920’s. Headpieces, jazz, fashionable canes, and flapper dresses, and that.

Falling For Me Won't Be A Mistake by Rearviewdreamer

M, 58k

Harry is married to his job and so overworked that he doesn't know how to stop. All it takes is a forced Hawaiian get-a-away, the warm tropical breeze of the island, and the most beautiful, elusive man he's ever seen to make him remember what living is like outside of work. Well, that, and the little souvenir he accidentally takes home with him.

Sodalite & Aventurine by forreveries

E, 80k

The one where, in his travels to find Swan’s elusive treasure, Captain Louis Tomlinson of the Black Dagger discovers he has a stowaway onboard - a stowaway who is rather tall and pretty and pouty and can spout off Shakespearean poetry as though he had written it. A stowaway who is also, unfortunately, secretly Louis’ biggest threat. Captain Harry Styles.

Paint Me In A Million Dreams by green_feelings

M, 112k

Harry's one of Hollywood's biggest actors, has made a name for himself in prestigious films and lives the life of a superstar. There's just one thing missing to make it picture-perfect, but the one Harry's in love with is completely out of reach for him. Enter Louis, one of Hollywood's biggest actors himself, who just came out of the closet and taps new genres in the industry. When Louis sacks the role Harry auditioned for in Scorsese's next big film, their irrational feud starts. Who could have guessed it would get even worse when for promo season, their teams decide to present them as a couple for publicity? In short, Harry's in love with someone and doesn't care about dating anyone else, Louis never felt home in L.A., Liam writes love songs for someone he shouldn't write love songs to, and Niall makes everything better with good food.

Our Lives, Non Fiction by indiaalphawhiskey

E, 113k

Heralded as the next Neil Gaiman, Louis Tomlinson does not appreciate being told that his very serious novel is in dire need of a PR boost. Even worse, that it comes in the form of a joint book tour with the UK’s #1 online romance-writing sensation Marcel Styles. Already turbulent at best, their partnership takes a drastic turn when, overly stressed about his looming deadline, Marcel accidentally blurts out a secret: though he’s famed for his scorching hot literary love scenes, he is, actually, a virgin. Convinced that the only way to rid himself of writer’s block is to gain some experience, Marcel asks Louis, author-to-author, to sleep with him – for Science. And of course Louis agrees because, well, what on Earth could possibly go wrong? Or, a lesson in romance that proves that sometimes the best love stories aren’t always by the book.

Time Passed by coffinofachimera

E, 66k

Louis struggles with their relationship as Harry grows into his identity.

beautiful sound beautiful noise by delsicle

M, 53k

Louis is a washed-up pop star who has spent nearly a year hiding away from the world. Harry is a guardian angel who is assigned to live with him for the summer. Neither of them quite get what they’re expecting.

the impossible now by stylinsoncity

M, 64k

A wish on Christmas Eve sends Louis to an alternate dimension where Harry is a member of One Direction

please leave a like and reblog ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

#larry fic recs #larry smut #larry stylinson fic rec #larry stylinson #fic recs #gay fic recs #bl fic recs #bl fics #larents #ask #ask a fic

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taekooktimeline · 2 years

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Hi everyone 👋🏽

Wasn’t yesterday wild!? Jungkook spent soooo much time with us, and we even got a Taekook duo live😭They were so shy and giggly, and the way Jk melted towards things Tae would say ahhh🥰I really felt like we were watching how they’d act towards one another on FaceTime. It was so sweet! I’m grateful they shared that with us. My head is still trying to process everything!

I have a (very long) draft created but I want to read through it a few times before posting. I hope when I do post it’s to your liking and I did an okay job! 💜

In the meantime, I’ve had the last 2 Run episodes “next top genius” in my drafts. I’ve been meaning to research dates but my personal life has been really busy since the start of the year, and then yesterday’s events got prioritized over looking for potential film dates.

I thought that, rather than sitting on it for who knows how much more time until I can research, I could ask if anyone has an idea of the film dates? I don’t need exact dates, but just a rough frame work, like a lmk approximate month that it would’ve been filmed. I have an opinion but haven’t gotten to delve into it (which means I could be completely wrong lol☺️)I’m hoping someone else has looked into it. It would save me time if so and I’d be incredibly appreciative🙏🏽💜

I’ll do my best to reread and finalize the Run post and yesterday’s as timely as I can💚

As always, thank you so much for reading❣️

#taekook #taekooktimeline #asks #discussions #2022

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amysubmits · 2 years

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My dad and I walk into his primary care office. The receptionist is busy. My dad sits down. I stay waiting to sign him in. Once she has time to look up, I start to tell her my dad’s name and appointment time “I know who you guys are” she smiles and waves towards the chairs, telling me I can sit down.

This starts me thinking about how she ‘knows’ me. Not in the literal sense.

This is the only doctors office in town. I’ve come here almost my whole life. Half my family sees this same doctor. I think this receptionist has worked here my whole life....she’s been here as long as I can remember, anyway. This is a small town. So of course she “knows me” in a way.

As we wait, there’s two men with a tractor wrapping the street lights with Christmas lights. Thanksgiving just passed, so it’s officially Christmas season. I was in this same waiting room last year when they decorated for Christmas. I’ve spent too much time in waiting rooms these last few years.

The receptionist knows I’m here for my dad. That’s who she knows me to be these days. The woman who is always accompanying her father to his appointments.

At first I think about how the ‘me’ she knows is false. Then I reconsider. It’s not false, really - it’s just incomplete.

This “role” that I’ve assumed the last few years is me, and it isn’t. It’s me because this is what I feel is right to be doing right now. I feel strongly that this is the right thing for me to be doing. CD agrees, too. Yet, in a certain perspective, it’s taken a lot away from CD and I. We’ve sacrificed a lot...some of it is less time together, and for a while it was a lot less privacy. But most of all, it’s emotional energy. It feels like it takes a little bit away from who we are even during the easier phases - during the chaotic ones, it turns us into robots who are just trying to get through each day.

Our D/s thrives most when we are focused quite a lot on each other, and when we don’t shy away from emotional labor. That’s our favorite versions of ourselves....the ones who are able to be focused and present in our D/s very regularly. When I’m not able to focus on CD or prioritize our intentional dynamic as much as I’d like, I miss it, and I miss myself, almost? I miss that version of me.

A while back we had added in a couple of new daily rules. I had said something to CD about how it felt nice to have more rules again. He asked why, and I wasn’t able to explain very well in the moment. I think it’s got a lot to do with my mental presence. Having to remember multiple things to do each day for our D/s helps keep my mind on our dynamic, which requires more thoughtfulness/presence and assists my headspace. It isn’t always practical, though.

When it’s not, I’m grateful to have a partner who shares so many important values with me, and a dominant who understands that our dynamic has to be flexible to survive the real world. `It’s powerful and comforting to see us stretch and bend to accommodate the things that life throws at us while holding onto the things that matter most to us.

---------------------

This sat as a draft for over a year.

This morning I was in the same waiting room, and I realized the Christmas decorations were already up. I wasn’t sitting in the waiting room when the town was decorated this year. It reminded me of this draft I wrote last year. I was visiting the PA today. as I was waiting to checkout the doctor (the one who was my dads, and who is usually mine) came out of a patient room. “Hey! How are you??!” she said on spotting me. While she’s my doctor, she only reacts to seeing me because she saw me so much when assisting my dad.

I’ve spent a lot less time in waiting rooms this year. I’m not the woman who accompanies her dad to doctors appointments anymore. I’m the woman who is - after many months - still figuring out what life looks like without my dad in it. It’s hard in a way that I couldn’t begin to put into words. I think it’s just one of those things you can’t understand until you’ve been there. And when someone’s been there - they get it, so you don’t need to explain.

Anyway - despite that heavy loss, we’ve had a lot of really good things happen this year, too. We’ve had more time to focus on ourselves. We’ve both grown a lot. Lots of self-discovery and growth. The last paragraph from my original draft holds true in good times, too.

#writing #d/s #24/7 d/s

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scamanderishredmayniac · 2 years

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Ten First Lines

I was tagged by @uefb thanks for the tag. I just realised I don’t really have many fics posted online, most of them are WIP and still in my drafts. Some will probably never see the light of day, and nearly all of them or at maybe just most of them are written for my own amusement or entertainment. Even with those in my drafts etc I still probably have less than 10. I’ll probably add a few Harry Potter fanfic as well as Fantastic beasts stuff just to make up numbers. I’ve also noticed while going through half the fics for this post, that I don’t even know where half the stories are going, most of them are just ideas my head throws at me, so they’re just a bunch of idea with unknown destinations. Just because the ideas seem good when they pop into my head. Lol! Anyway here goes.

Rules: Share the first lines of ten of your fanfics and tag ten people. If you’ve written fewer than 10 fics, don’t be shy and share anyway. If you’re an artist or meta-writer, feel free to find a way to participate if you’d like. :) (notice I took out the word recent, because if I just post ten lines of recent work only, then I’d have even less to share).

1. Fantastic Beats and Where to find them: Of Beasts and Monsters

Newt rubbed his face as he looked out over Paris from the rooftops of the crypt.

I have one chapter posted on ao3, and trying to write chapter 2, I’ve started it, but it’s not going well. Lol! Newt is keeping secrets from Tina, one she shouldn’t know about and could land him into trouble and cost him their relationship.

2. The Magizoologist And The Human Mini-beasts

Newt stood transfixed at the scene before him with regret.

I posted this one somewhere on tumblr, but can’t find it through the tags system. It was part of the fantastic beasts week event from 2020 I think. The prompt for that day was to do a Fantastic beasts crossover with something else. This was a one shot, crossover with Kindergarten cop. If anyone has seen that movie, you’ll recognise the scene straight away. This one was a fun write. I may make it into a full story instead of just a one shot in the future. We’ll see. Tina is poorly and Newt is made to take on one her cases, but Newt’s not sure he wants to, and questioning what he’s doing there.

3. Letters From Home

Tina woke to the sun streaming in through the window, the light dazzling her eyes as she fought to open them.

This one was for day 3 of the Fantastic beasts week 2020 challenge. While it is posted as a one shot, and can be read as a separate thing, it will eventually be a part of Fantastic beasts: of beasts and monsters. (I guess I’m cheating. Look it still counts ok). Tina gets a letter from Toliver after the Paris incident, Newt and Jacob try to comfort her.

4. Creatures

Newt and Leta were sitting in their usual place in the little room, where Newt had kept his creatures hidden from prying eyes.

This one was day 1 of my Newty November challenge, the word prompt had been creatures so I did a one shot here on tumblr. It should be somewhere floating around. I think I could find this one, so might share link to it some point. We’ll see. Its just a short little ficlet thing, where Newt and Leta are tending to a new creature they’ve just found.

5. Of magical creatures

Newt stood watching the group of people who would be his students for the next few weeks, perhaps a month or even a year.

This one lives in my drafts and still unsure weather I will actually post this one anywhere at the moment. I wrote this as a sort of fun bit of writing, more for myself than anything. I wanted to explore and AU where Newt is asked to teach and train a few adults on magizoology, as a career path at Hogwarts. Dumbledore is headmaster of the school and thinks there should be more magizoologists in the world, helping Newt’s cause, and suggests Newt uses the school to teach a selection of adult students.

6. Fantastic Beasts and where to find them: The Newt and The Salamander

The Scamander twins had been very close and had a strong bond growing up, but as of late things had changed.

This is one that will probably never see the light of day, and will probably stay in my drafts as a hidden story, just for my eyes only I think. I wrote this one for my own entertainment. As you can see another AU. It starts off with the incident with the jarvey and Newt’s expulsion from Hogwarts, as the catalyst for the twin’s fall out. But after the events of Paris Newt needs to stop running, and avoiding his sister and enlist her help to bring down Grindelwald. Bonds have been broken, but must be reforged in order to work together. Newt is guilt ridden, his sister is angry. They must put grudges and mistakes of the past behind them and work together.

7. The Ring

Newt tried hard to stand still as Theseus straightened his bow for the umpteenth time. He was starting to regret the whole thing.

This one is going to be a two part one shot, which is a work in progress that I’m half way through. It’s part of a February word prompt challenge I took up, but never really managed to finish on time. I was so busy with doing the challenge I was hosting, that I only managed to do this in dribs and drabs alongside the picture for part two and parts of the fic for part two.

8. The Dinner Date

Newt and Tina made their way to a table near the back of the restaurant, a waiter taking their coats and pulling out Tina’s chair for her as she made to sit down.

This is part two of The Ring, again from the same word prompt challenge. The story beginning above being the word prompt ring, and this one the word prompt being Dinner date. As I say I’m working on a fan art to go with this one. I thought i’d finished it, but realised there were mistakes to the artwork and need to fix it. And also realised I’d forgotten to add things to it, so I have to go back and fix the picture. Started the story to this one, but realised I need to fix a few things because I don’t know much about dating etiquettes, and now realised I’m going to have to change the plot a little. I actually started the ring one after realising I needed to change parts of this story. I needed to make this one interesting somehow, so the ring was my way of fixing the mistake on this one. The mistake to this story was supposed to help make things a bit more interesting, but after asking a friend’s advice, I realised it wouldn’t work. So the ring had to be a part of it to make it a bit more I don’t know. Give it back story I guess.

9. Halloween At Hogwarts

With it being the first of October, the weather was changing, and autumn was now in full bloom.

This is or was a spin off to another story I’m working on. Things are not going well at Hogwarts and it’s up to Harry and his friends to stop whatever is haunting the school. What starts of as a fun Halloween game, becomes a Halloween nightmare for the staff and students at Hogwarts. This is the first long fanfic I actually managed to finish. I’m really bad at finishing long stuff.

10. The Scrooge Of Hogwarts

The students had gone home for the holidays, which meant it would be peaceful and quiet at Hogwarts.

A one shot story in which Snape is visited by three spirits. A HP and Scrooge crossover, I wrote for Christmas. This was a fun one to write, some of my friends and colleagues thought it was a fun read too.

Wow ok I actually didn’t do too badly, I managed to at least find 8 Fantastic beasts related stuff to post first lines of. Not bad. I thought it would be less. From doing this little exercise, I have learned that just writing the first line of your story doesn’t promote it well. Especially if they’re short one liners. Eek! That’s why I added a little description after each one, to make them sound a little more interesting. Lol! Ouch!

Ok to tag 10 people, I’m not sure who to tag and don’t know if I know 10 people to tag. I’ll just tag one or two and then anyone else who wants to do it can do. I tag, @newt-and-salamander @afrenchaugurey @snapeysister (I don’t know if you do writing or not, but you can post pictures and fan art to stories you read if you like for the challenge). @themysteriousphoenix And that’s it, I can’t remember anyone else who writes. Sorry if I’ve missed anyone out. Even if I’ve not mentioned you, and you want to take part, then please do.

#tagging game #first lines #fanfic #writing #just for fun

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brattysorcerer · 2 years

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hello! I was wondering if you could maybe write about streamer!reader who is a pretty new member of nijisanji, like they joined one or two months ago and one day when collabing with one of the members of luxiem/noctyx(you can choose who you wanna write), they take a break to go to the restroom or smth and the reader just starts gushing about them like saying stuff about how cute they think the member is, or how sweet they are or smth like that? Its fine if you don't wanna write this, I understand, but if you do thank you in advance and I hope you have a lovely day!

okay this has been sitting in my drafts for a hot minute, i'm so sorry. i had a hard time deciding on which of the boys to use for this but i settled on alban.

you and alban had done quite a few collab streams in the small amount of time that you’d been with nijisanji. outside of streaming, the two of you talked a lot as well, spending some nights in calls or just back and forth in messages until late into the night. you guys just clicked and it was very obvious to everyone.

alban had invited you to sit in on a stream with him. it wasn’t a co-op game but he’d wanted company while he’d played a scarier game and you’d had no issue giving that to him. you’d helped voice some characters within the game and the two of you had been having a really good time.

“oh! uh, hold on. the food i ordered is finally here. i’m also going to use the washroom while i’m up. keep chat company for me?” alban said to you before muting himself and running off to grab his food. you hum softly for a moment, glancing at chat and watching the messages roll in.

most of the messages were just saying hello to you and talking about how you were babysitting them, making you laugh softly. you sip of your drink and clear your throat. “i hope you guys are enjoying the stream today! i was really excited when alban invited me to sit in while he plays this game. he’d mentioned it was a bit of a scary game and so i told him i’d hold his hand while i played.” you say, referring to the hand holding asset someone had made for the two of you for the scary game collabs you guys often did.

your tone had softened and you sounded a little shy and chat gets a little faster at that. you laugh softly as you see some eye emojis roll in. “your manager is a bit of a scaredy cat at times, you know? it’s kinda cute, though.” you say. chat starts to ‘oooh’ and ‘aw’ at that and you hum.

“even if he is a big baby sometimes, he’s very sweet. he’s been so kind to me since i joined niji and i’ve enjoyed every collab and conversation i’ve been able to have with him. he’s made me feel very welcomed and supported and i don’t think i would’ve been able to do that karaoke stream without his support and how much he hyped me up.”

“i just think he’s neat, you know?” you say shyly, followed by a soft laugh as chat loses their minds. “also! don’t tell alban i said any of this.” you wink at the camera, laughing as you know he’ll find out.

“don’t tell alban what?” you hear as alban settles back into his chair.

you gasp comically, looking at your camera and then turning your model so it looks like your looking at alban. “oh, y’know. don’t tell alban that i called him a big scaredy cat baby when it comes to scary games.” you tease.

#[[ personal: my writing. ]]#[[ personal: anon msg. ]]#alban knox x reader #noctyx x reader

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jcwriting · 3 years

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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.”

©jcwritings Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission.

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theyoutubedork · 3 years

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Close To You - part 1

Bucky Barnes x shy!avenger!reader

Inspired by the fabulous song ‘Close To You’ by Dayglow, I highly recommend his new album, Harmony House, every single song is amazing.

Summary: After months of living in the compound, Y/N still doesn’t know how talk to her crush, Bucky. Wanda and Natasha convince Y/N to use middle school tactics, and have them sit close to each other. Things don’t really go as planned.

Warning: Slight angst if you squint, cursing, a weird fixation on lamb chops, swearing, reader eats meat.

Let me know if i should continue this, I’ve been so stumped on how to finish it so I’m just publishing it as a part 1 so i can stop staring at it in my drafts.

Note: Alternate timeline where everyone gets along and lives together.

I saw you lookin' for the side door

You didn't wanna stick around for

The rest of the night

I guess that's alright

They all left when you walked home

It makes sense that they all know

It was only for you

If only you knew

Everyone in the compound knew that you had a huge crush on Bucky, except for Bucky. You could barely hold a conversation without getting extremely nervous and anxious, constantly overthinking about what to say and if Bucky even likes talking to you. You never confessed your feelings to him; you barely had a friendship with him to begin with. You two always seemed to dance around each other, always having to leave to go somewhere, or getting interrupted by everyone in your life.

What good is love?

Without any strings?

You thought he was way too attractive, and you thought that ever since you two met. You remember how nervous he was that day.

You were sitting on the bed in your room, folding your laundry, finally, when you heard a knock at your bedroom door.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y? Can you open the door please?”

“Of course, Miss.” F.R.I.D.A.Y chirps, letting the sliding door open with a mechanic whoosh. You look to see Steve, and who you assume to be Bucky Barnes at the door. You had heard he was going to be staying at the compound for the time being. They both stood there, motionless.

“You can come in you know?” You say, reaching into your pile of laundry, deciding to continue doing laundry despite the company. You have to get it done or it’ll be on your floor for weeks, until you come back from the two week foreign mission you’re starting soon. You hear them walk in as you train your eyes on the laundry, trying to fold it perfectly.

“Hi, Y/N, Bucky’s moving in today, thought it’d be nice to introduce you.” Steve, the ever-so-polite captain stated. You put down the sweater you folded and picked up one of your lacy bras, folding it gently. You are oblivious to Steve and Bucky immediately averting their eyes when you hoisted the bra in the air before folding it. You look to the both of them and Steve has a nervous smile, while Bucky’s face was beet red, avoiding your gaze.

“Hi, its nice to meet you,” you make eye contact with him finally, and you feel the slightest of butterflies at the pit of your stomach when looking into his baby blue eyes for the first time.

“Hi” Bucky quickly murmurs, immediately glancing over at Steve. After a very prolonged silence between the two of you, Steve cleared his throat,

“Well, that was easy,” he chuckles at his two incredibly shy friends, “Let’s go back to the kitchen, Vision said he’d make lunch,” he looks at Bucky with an amused glance. Bucky nods, and he quickly leaves the room.

“He’s quiet.” You squint, a little confused on why he was so ready to get out of there.

“You’re one to talk,” Steve laughs, and you throw one of your shirts at him, making his laughter turn into giggles, before you shoo him out of your room.

So that is why Wanda and Natasha convinced you to basically set up a dinner/movie night, where they would make Bucky sit next to you, so that you two could talk to each other for the first time in weeks. It’s not that he purposefully avoided you, it’s just that with both of you have busy schedules, and neither one of you knows how to talk to people.

I wanna know you

But can’t make it right

The plan was to have everyone get to the dinner table before Bucky, forcing him to sit next to you, and then suggest a movie night and get Bucky to sit next to you, even closer. You admitted that it wasn’t the absolute worst idea, it just seemed so reminiscent of middle schoolers not knowing how to flirt. They just resorted to the most rudimentary solutions: pulling the ponytail on the playground, always finding ways to sit next to them, et cetera, et cetera.

They had Steve in on it too, being one of the biggest advocates for you two becoming friends. Steve was actually able to convince Bucky to come to the “Avenger family dinner movie night “, which was Wanda’s and Natasha’s way of advertising it. The Avengers rarely shared dinner together, there was no time that you all were together, at home, at the same time.

All the other avengers caught onto the plan, except for Bucky of course. They all agreed to come to dinner, and Tony made sure F.R.I.D.A.Y would only notify Bucky that dinner was ready until everyone else was seated at the table.

You are snapped out of your thoughts by Wanda clicking her fingers in front of your face teasingly.

“Are you going to help me set up the table or do I have to do everything myself?” Wanda teased.

“Why not let Natasha help you?” You quip.

“Because I’m getting all the drinks of choice out” she smirks, and you sigh, going over to the dining table to help reposition the chairs while Wanda makes everything else float into place. All different sort of foods were strewn across the table, lambchops and steaks, steamed vegetables, and many other hearty foods to feed the hungry avengers.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. Initiate protocol, “Avengers family dinner”, please,” you call out reluctantly. You hear Wanda and Natasha giggle at your formality. Everyone teased you on how polite you were to F.R.I.D.A.Y., even though she was just an A.I. program.

“Right away Miss,” she responds quickly. You take a shuddered breath, trying to relieve the nerves. What if Bucky caught onto the plan? What if he didn’t show up? What if he asks to switch seats so he doesn’t have to talk to you?

You feel Wanda approach you from behind, placing her hand on your shoulder,

“You have to stop overthinking this Y/N, its going to be just fine! Just try to have a good time ok?” She coos and you give her a curt nod.

You see Thor, Tony, Peter, and Sam walk into the dining area.

“I have been smelling this delectable display for eons, please tell me I can feast,” Thor pleads, grabbing his plate first. He looks to you,

“Oh, yeah, don’t bother waiting for the others,” You mumble, and Thor giddily starts piling food onto his plate.

“Hey! Save some for the rest of us!” Wanda call from the kitchen area, putting all the dishes into the sink.

“Are we not waiting for everyone else before we eat?” Peter asks shyly, you stumble with your response before Natasha cuts in.

“Since Bucky will be the last to come in, Y/N doesn’t want him to feel awkward for ‘keeping everyone waiting’” she remarks, and your face heats up immediately, and you swat Natasha on the arm. She smirks at you. You open your mouth to defend yourself, but Peter beats you to it,

“Oh, that makes sense,” Peter says with a cute smile, and he makes his way over to the table, sitting next to Tony across the table, who is slowly filling up his plate.

Over the next ten minutes, the rest of the avengers trickle in. Rhodey, Clint, and Bruce all quietly slip into their seats. Vision just phases through some random wall, kissing Wanda on the cheek before going to sit down next to Thor, not even bothering to put food on his plate. Wanda makes her way to sit next to him, patting the back of the chair next to her, offering it to you. You slowly approach, sitting down with your hands in your lap. She leans over to whisper in your ear.

“Are you planning on being the only one to wait to eat until Bucky arrives so you can impress him?” She guesses, and your face flushes, barely making any coherent sentences.

“Uh, no, I uh-“ you stumble and Wanda, laughs,

“Oh relax, I think he’ll find it cute,”

You see Steve quickly walk into the room, a giddy smile on his face. He quickly sits a seat from you, leaving the open chair between you for the unnamed “guest of honor”. He looks over at you, and sensing your nervousness, he gives a reassuring smile,

“It’ll be fine, just try to relax ok?” He murmurs, low enough for no one else to hear. You give a small smile in return, fixing your gaze back to the only entryway Bucky could come from, since you knew he was almost always in his room.

The rest of the Avengers fall into casual conversation, with Tony diving into another one of his crazy anecdotes. You get lost in the conversation, and don’t even notice Bucky entering the room, until he is pulling out the chair next to you. You whip your head around, slightly startled. He gives you a small nod in greeting, before sitting in his chair. Your body is already starting to buzz with anxiety, just the mere presence of Bucky is enough to make your head spin. You saw that his hair was neatly slicked back, and he was wearing one of his nicer looking henleys, one of the ones you know he only wears to semi-casual events. After thinking this, you realize how creepy it was that you knew that, but you couldn’t help it. Despite barely talking to Bucky, you watched him quite a lot. Many of your fellow avengers have had to snap you back to reality, only to tease your staring. You hated the habit more than anyone else. Bucky never seemed to meet your gaze, so your brain gave you no reason to stop. Your heart aches slightly, hurt by the fact that Bucky never looks at you the way you do, with incredible longing.

You had been staring at your filled plate while lamenting to yourself, and Bucky grabs your attention with a small huff.

“Were you waiting for me?” He asks, eyes gesturing to your untouched plate. Your cheeks flush with heat at his immediate catch on.

“Uh, yeah I guess, force of habit.” You laugh nervously, finally moving your hands from your lap to pick up your fork, stabbing one of the roasted potatoes on your plate.

“You didn’t have to do that,” He grumbles slightly, roughly cutting the lamb chop on his plate with a large steak knife. You wince at both his tone, and the way his knife scrapes against the plate. You knew you shouldn’t have waited, you just made him feel more uncomfortable! Way to go, Y/N. Steve noticed the silence between the two of you, so he slightly leaned forward to address you,

“So, Y/N, I feel like I haven’t seen you all day!” Steve chirps, raising his eyebrows as if to say, ‘Don’t worry, you got this,”

“Oh, I was helping make dinner with Wanda and Natasha,” You smile shyly, and Steve raises his eyebrows once more, almost in faux surprise.

“I didn’t know you could cook!” He gawks, stuffing a piece of his own lamb chop in his mouth. Wanda quickly joins in,

“Oh she definitely does! She made all of those lamb chops, she was pretty much a master chef!” She gushes, and you try to swat away her compliments,

“Oh come on, you made everything else,”

“You don’t have to act so humble, you cooked these perfectly!” Steve protested, taking another huge bite. You see him jab Bucky in the side, who glares at him before mumbling under his breath, avoiding your gaze,

“Uh, it’s good,” You hear Steve let out a soft sigh before continuing,

“What he meant to say was, ‘Thank you Y/N for making amazing lamb chops!’” You let out a fake laugh, trying to push down all the disappointment. Did Bucky not like what you made? Was he just saying it was good in order to not hurt your feelings? You quickly look back to your plate, taking a few more bites of the fried rice that Wanda had made.

“You’re not gonna even try what you made?” You hear Wanda say beside you and you shrug, taking another bite.

“Does it look like there’s anymore left for me to try?” You laugh, gesturing your fork over to the the large plate that once had all the lambchops on it, now completely bare. You also motioned over to Bucky, Steve, and Thor, each with a respective 3 chops on their plate.

“Here, you can have one of mine,” Bucky says, picking up one of the chops with his steak knife, gingerly putting it on your plate. You widen your eyes, unsure what to think of his actions. Was he trying to be nice? Or was he that tired of your cooking? Thankfully, he interrupted your thoughts.

“I already had two, you should try it.” He offers, “It’s good.” Bucky gives you a small smile.

“Oh, thanks,” You thank him, quickly cutting off a piece. You take the bite, with Bucky’s and Wanda’s gaze still on you. You try not to let your eyes flutter closed. God, you make a damn good lamb chop.

#marvel #mcu #marvel x reader #mcu fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky #tfatws bucky #fluff #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #close to you

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hockeylvr59 · 2 years

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Life Changes Part 12 || Paul Bissonnette

Summary: It’s crazy how quickly your life can change...one minute you’re a struggling personal injury lawyer and the next you’re working for one of the hottest sports podcasts to supplement your income. A new job and the end of a long-term relationship was just the beginning for Leigh Thompson when it comes to life changes. Thankfully she has the one and only Paul Bissonnette at her side to help her handle them all.

Author's Note: Note, we’re still set in 2019 here. It has been like 18 months since I last updated this and I’ve had a partial draft sitting for at least a year of that. But I finally was able to find some muse to sit and get over the hump of the part that has been holding me back because I was scared I wouldn’t be able to put the emotion into it that I wanted to come across. I really really really hope that even though it’s been a while that this part is something that you guys enjoy.

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no Warnings: descriptions of childbirth and cursing Word Count: 3,887 (Series Total: 34,086)

~~~~~~~

“Having a baby is a life-changer. It gives you a whole other perspective on why you wake up every day.” - Taylor Hanson

October 15th. Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. It was a day that had always been hard for me, but this year there was something even more poignant about it. Mainly because I was 38 weeks pregnant today, just 3 weeks shy of my due date. As I lit candles in honor of family members, classmates, and acquaintances that had lost children I rested my hand on my stomach feeling the slight movements of my little girl inside me.

“Just a few more weeks, dustbunny. You just have to hang in there for a few more weeks and then you’ll be here safe and sound in my arms.” I whispered trying not to cry, though lately, it seemed like a pointless exercise to attempt to keep it all together. After a few minutes, I blew out all the candles and made my way into the bathroom to grab a quick shower and then lay down, having been on my feet too much today already.

As I showered I felt aches in my lower back but at nine months pregnant aches were kind of my new normal. By the time I made it to bed I was exhausted and blocked everything out as best I could trying to get just a few hours of sleep. Restlessly, I tossed and turned like most nights and it wasn’t until early in the morning when I got up to pace to try and relieve the aches that I realized something was very wrong as a trickle of moisture ran down my leg as I leaned against my kitchen island. There was no way this was happening and I winced as the ache returned and all at once I realized I was in labor.

Trying to quell the panic rising in my chest because it wasn’t time yet, she wasn’t supposed to come for at least another two weeks, I waddled back to my bedroom to get my phone. Now realizing the aches were contractions I tried my best to think about how far apart they had been. It had to be close to 25 or 30 minutes still so I knew that I still had time before going to the hospital and that it could be hours or even close to a day before my labor progressed that far.

By the time I finally had my phone I was starting to lose the battle with my own panic as I dialed the familiar number praying that he would pick up even though it was ungodly early in Arizona.

“You’re up early.” The familiar voice greeted me, sleep still lingering in his voice until he heard my panicked whisper of his name. “What’s going on?” He questioned quickly, the rustle of bedsheets moving around him.

“My water just broke.” I whispered, absolutely terrified. “I’m in labor Paul.”

A litany of curses fell from his mouth and I could hear myself being put onto speaker.

“How far apart are your contractions?” He asked, his voice sounding somewhat far away.

“Close to half an hour.” I replied just trying to breathe slowly and steadily not because of any pain, but rather to manage the fear.

“Have you started for the hospital?” I replied to his question in the negative telling him that it was a little too soon for that and I would rather wait in my own space until things progressed a little more than go to the hospital and have to wait there. He didn’t seem thrilled with this response but he was clearly too preoccupied to fight me on it too heavily.

“Promise me you’ll get yourself to the hospital.” He insisted. “Take some deep breaths. I’m going to be there as soon as I can. I’m on my way.” He promised. “Tell dustbunny to hang in there until I arrive okay. You are so strong and you’ve got this. Just breathe and try to relax. I’m on my way.” Nodding my head even though he couldn’t see it, I tried to control the tears. This couldn’t be happening. He was supposed to be here. Not on the other side of the country. The fear that he wouldn’t make it, that I would have to deliver this baby all by myself crept into my mind and after hanging up the phone I sobbed softly just praying that somehow that wouldn’t be the case.

Just as I thought I was going to be able to pull it together, another contraction hit and the pain brought fresh tears to my eyes as I sobbed trying to take any breath at all let alone a deep one.

Repeating to myself that Paul had told me to breathe, I focused on controlling that before getting up to change my wet bottoms and double-check that I had everything I needed in my hospital bag. Going through all the items and the checklist I had made, I grabbed a few more things before setting the bag at the door. When another contraction hit, I whimpered through it before checking to see how long it had been since the previous one.

Still about 25 minutes.

Once they got to fifteen I knew that I would need to leave for the hospital. If Paul were here it would be possible to wait even longer but with having to drive myself there, I knew it would be better safe than sorry even if it was only like a five-minute drive away, ten if there was any traffic.

Knowing that the longer labor lasted, the more likely Paul would actually make it in time, I tried to stay calm and murmured to my bump for her to stay put a little longer. Putting a true crime show on tv, I settled onto the couch, phone beside me with a timer running.

As the episode came to an end, a contraction hit once more and I breathed through it, wincing, before resetting the timer.

The end of a second, third, and then a fourth episode were accompanied by additional contractions all still relatively steady at 25 minutes apart.

Unable to focus on the details related to true crime anymore, I pulled up the latest podcast episode and started to listen hoping that maybe with Paul’s voice in my ear I could doze for a little while, feeling more and more exhausted by the minute. After another contraction, I must have dozed off a little because suddenly the guys were knee-deep into their interview with Ben Bishop as a contraction rolled through me making me wince even more because shit that one hurt.

Twenty minutes.

That was definitely closer and with it being more intense, I swallowed a wave of panic. I had no idea if or when Paul was going to be able to find a flight and the flight time alone was 4 hours if there was no layover anywhere. He might not even be in the air yet and yet dustbunny seemed like she really didn’t want to wait.

Swallowing hard I rubbed my bump softly pleading with my daughter once more.

“Please sweetheart, wait a little longer. I can’t do this alone.”

By the time the podcast ended 45 minutes later, I’d had 3 more contractions, one 18 minutes after the last and the other two 16.

Trying to call Paul, I was sent straight to voicemail and I could only hope that meant that he was in the air though I had no idea how far into a flight he may be. It had been 4 hours since I had realized I was in labor so there was a chance he was only a couple of hours away, though that chance seemed slim.

With another contraction coming 16 minutes after the last, I knew that I needed to call my doctor and start making my way to the hospital. Using the bathroom one more time, I double-checked once again that I had everything I needed before alerting my doctor that my baby had decided she didn’t want to wait until her due date and that I was headed to the hospital.

As I hung up the phone, another contraction hit that almost doubled me over and I cursed, already over the entire process of labor knowing full well that I hadn’t even reached the hardest part yet. It was terrifying and I sobbed for a moment before getting myself some water and moving to load the bag into the car.

Waiting for the next contraction to pass, I started the car and made my way to the hospital, pulling into the closest spot I could find. Gathering my bag I held myself up against the side of the car as yet another painful contraction tore through me.

When it subsided I waddled my way to the front doors, never more relieved than to find a nurse waiting for me with a wheelchair to take me up to labor and delivery to be admitted.

Completing paperwork while experiencing regular intense contractions was difficult, to say the least, and by the time I was settled into a room, hooked up to all the monitors and an iv just waiting for a doctor to come to check me almost an hour had passed. Trying Paul’s phone again, I was sent straight to voicemail once more and that once again brought tears to my eyes filling my chest with panic that he wouldn’t make it.

The next contraction made me scream and at that moment a nurse and my doctor rolled through the doors, immediately looking a little alarmed.

“Let’s see how we’re doing.” My doctor’s voice said in a tone that would have been soothing if I was not already panicked. A gloved hand slid under the blankets and after a moment she pulled back sending the nurse a look.

“Are you feeling any pressure or need to push yet?” She asked me and my brain immediately went into a fog. If she was asking me that, that meant that things were really really close, closer than I expected them to be.

“She can’t come yet.” I insisted frantically. “She can’t. I can’t do this until Paul is here.”

Ever patient, my doctor rested an ungloved hand on my knee.

“Leigh. I don’t think your little girl is going to wait any longer. We’re going to get ready for you to push because you’re fully dilated.”

“I can’t…” I insisted, shaking my head. “She needs to wait.”

My face scrunched with pain as another contraction rolled through me and my doctor must have given the nurse a few instructions because after a minute she was standing there with a mask.

“It’s laughing gas…it will help take the edge off the pain. Just hold the mask and take a few deep breaths.” She instructed.

“I’m not ready.” I repeated, needing someone to listen to me that regardless of what my body was saying, she couldn’t come yet.

The same nurse remained beside me, urging me to take the mask and breathe as a few more bodies flooded into the room, quickly gowning up and putting gloves on.

Another contraction came with pressure and I resisted, choking out a sob and some verbal signal of pain.

“Leigh. Next contraction I’m going to need you to start pushing.” My doctor directed. “We need to get your daughter here so she’s safe.”

Shaking my head, I closed my eyes and dug my nails into the mattress, continuing to sob.

“I can’t do this!”

“Leigh. Push!” My doctor demanded as another contraction tore through my body. “Push!” My body must have reacted on impulse because a “good, that’s good.” left her lips shortly after.

“I can’t. I can’t.” I repeated as soon as the wave of pain was over.

“Yes, you can.” In the chaos, it took my mind to register that that was a new voice, a familiar voice…

Opening my eyes, I looked to my left and gasped seeing Paul standing there.

“You can do this Leigh.” He insisted, reaching to pull my hand from the mattress to lace with his. “You are strong enough and I’m right here. Listen to the doctor and push.”

Crying now for an entirely different reason, I nodded weakly and when the next contraction came I pushed with everything I had.

“You made it.” I whispered between the next contractions before taking the mask from the nurse and taking a few deep breaths.

“I told you I’d be here.” Paul insisted. “Now let’s have a baby okay.”

Continuing to push on each contraction was the most exhausting experience of my entire life. It felt like it had been forever and I wasn’t sure I had the energy to keep going.

“Leigh. Look at me.” Paul said. “You’re doing so good. Just keep going. You are strong enough.” That wasn’t true and I shook my head a bit as Paul squeezed my hand. “You are.”

Pushing again, my doctor stated that she could see the head and to give her another big push on the next contraction.

“That’s it. Pause Leigh.” She instructed. “We’ve got a head.”

Taking a few more breaths of gas, I swallowed hard when she asked for another big big push to get the shoulders out. My entire pelvis felt like it was on fire and I screamed again as I tried to push with everything I had left.

And then suddenly, my scream wasn’t the only one in the room. In that moment, the entire world froze as the most magical sound I’d ever heard filled my ears.

“Here you are mom.” A nurse murmured softly while laying the most beautiful screaming thing carefully onto my chest.

“Oh my god.” I couldn’t help but whisper taking in the features of the tiny person I’d made.

______

Paul’s POV

There was absolutely nothing pretty about childbirth. It was loud and it was messy and bloody. But watching Leigh calm the baby girl she had been carrying for so long, I could finally see why people said it was one of the most beautiful things.

Getting here had been difficult and included renting a private charter which Leigh would never find out about, but now that I was here I couldn’t imagine having missed this for the world.

“Do you want to cut the cord dad?” A nurse asked me, offering up a pair of scissors. Opening my mouth to correct her, I looked at Leigh, and then all I could do was nod. Taking the scissors, I cut where the nurse instructed me to and then handed the scissors back as another nurse came to gather the baby from Leigh’s chest.

“Go with her.” Leigh whispered, her voice showing just how exhausted she was. “I’m okay, just stay with her.” She pleaded softly.

Hesitating for only a moment, I followed the nurse carrying the baby girl as they moved to clean her better and take all of her measurements, and run a few tests as she was a few weeks early.

By the time we returned to Leigh’s recovery room, she was changed and resting in bed, her eyes fluttering open at the sound of the door.

Leaving the bassinet containing the baby beside the bed, the nurse stated that she would let me give the updates and to just call if we needed anything. With her baby back in the room, Leigh relatively quickly - she had just given birth - sat up and gathered up the clean and dressed baby girl from the bassinet.

“Everything okay?” She asked me, brushing a finger lightly over her newborn daughter’s cheek.

“Yeah. She passed all her tests, no surprise considering her mom.” I assured her, a smile on the corner of my lips. “Just over six pounds, I can’t remember how long but it’s on the label.” I pointed to it on the side of the bassinet where it just read “Baby Girl Thompson.”

“Good.” She breathed, just taking in the baby girl for a few minutes before patting the spot on the bed beside her for me to sit. “You made it.” She whispered looking up at me in a way that made me want nothing more than to kiss her even though I couldn’t.

“Told you I’d be here.” I shrugged, giving in to the urge to at least lean in and kiss the top of her head. “You made a really cute kid.” I added, swiping a finger lightly over the arm of the baby girl.

Leigh just smiled and continued to hold her baby for a few minutes before asking me to call a nurse to get a bottle ready. She had decided against breastfeeding a while ago and while I knew that wasn’t the most popular choice all that mattered was that the baby was fed.

Watching her feed the baby for a few minutes, I excused myself to the bathroom to piss and splash some water on my face. I hadn’t been able to sleep on the flight, worried the entire time about Leigh, and having woken up at 4am Arizona time, I was exhausted and starving.

Stepping back into the room, I couldn’t help but smile despite it all, Leigh just had that effect.

“When’s the last time you ate?” I questioned and the look of not knowing that crossed Leigh’s face told me everything. “Okay…better question what do you want to eat?”

“A steak would be good.” She murmured and immediately I fished my phone from my pocket to pull up a list of local restaurants.

“Steak it is,” I assured her, finding the place locally with the best reviews and showing her the menu so that we could place an order for pickup. “I’ll go grab this and bring it back, okay? You’ve got the nurses if you need anything in the meantime.”

Receiving her nod, I kissed her head again murmuring that I was proud of her before slipping from the room to go get an early dinner.

****

By the time I returned to the room, the curtains were drawn and the lights were dimmed signaling that Leigh had settled in for a short nap while her baby also slept. Moving quietly, I unpacked the take-out containers before kissing her head softly and murmuring to her that food was here. I knew she needed the sleep but she also needed the food to give her strength after her ordeal.

Watching her stir, I smiled softly.

“You should eat while it’s still warm,” I commented while digging into my own food. “Thank you.” She said and the way she looked at me suggested that the words were meant to extend beyond just thanks for the food.

“It’s no problem.”

After eating in silence, I moved to retrieve a small box from the bag I had brought up with me this time since I wasn’t in a rush. Sitting it on the table in front of her I moved to slide into the chair on the other side of the bed.

“What’s this?” She asked me and smirking softly I just gestured for her to open it. Inside was a simple opal necklace on a silver chain, representative of the baby girl she had just delivered.

“Paul.” She breathed softly.

“Dustbunny is lucky she was due close enough to the end of October that I had a contingency plan in place already.”

“Paul. You shouldn’t have.” Leigh insisted. “It’s too much. You just being here is already too much.”

“It’s not too much,” I informed her. “You just gave birth to a six-pound human, you deserve something that’s a little sparkly.”

Not letting her argue, I took the box from her and gently removed the necklace before urging her to move her hair aside while I clasped the chain around her neck.

“There. Perfect.”

Sighing, Leigh gave in and ran her fingers over the necklace. Her face was thoughtful for a moment before she opened her mouth.

“Do you want to hold her? Have you held her yet?” She asked.

“I haven’t,” I replied, stomach swirling with nerves at the thought of hurting her. “But I don’t want to hurt her.

Leigh looked at me like that was the stupidest thing I’d ever said which we both knew was far from true.

“You’re not going to hurt her. Come here.” She directed, picking up the baby girl from the bassinet before patting the spot beside her.

Sitting where she directed, I peered down at the tiny infant in Leigh’s arms.

“Just slide a hand under her head and support her butt.” Leigh directed, carefully transferring the baby, my dustbunny, into my arms. She was so small and after a moment, tiny eyes fluttered open to look up at me.

“She says hi,” Leigh murmured.

Staring at those tiny eyes and that sweet button nose, it felt like nothing else mattered and I knew that I would do everything in my power to protect her always.

“Do you want to know her name?” Leigh asked me.

“Sure,” I replied, not daring to take my eyes off the baby for even a second.

“Allison Kinsley Thompson. Little Allie.” She declared and hearing the name the baby girl turned her head to look at her mom like yes that’s me.

“Beautiful just like her.” I agreed.

“It seemed fitting.” Leigh nodded. “Especially since the feminine forms of Paul just aren’t my cup of tea and Alberta is a province in Canada. We decided we’d just steak the first syllable instead and that was good enough.”

When her words finally sank in, my throat got thick and moisture pooled in my eyes.

“Wait. Are you…is she?”

“Named after you? Yeah, Paul.” Leigh stated, sliding a hand along my knee. “I wouldn’t have made it through the pregnancy or delivery without you. It’s only right she’s named after you.”

“Leigh…” I wasn’t regularly a crier but at the moment it was inevitable. Laying her head on my shoulder, Leigh just watched Allie as she stretched and wiggled a bit before yawning and closing her little eyes again.

“Nap with us for a bit.” Leigh insisted, showing me how to shift the baby to rest against my shoulder and making room for me beside her so we could all lay down.

****

When we awoke, Leigh changed and fed Allie again before finally making the phone calls to her family announcing the baby’s arrival. She then insisted I call the guys, first to finally explain why I missed recording today’s podcast but also to introduce them to the newest member of the crew.

It was only after all of that was done and Leigh was settled into bed, Allie in the bassinet beside her once more so they both could rest that I looked through the pictures we’d taken over the course of the afternoon. There was no way to even describe everything I was feeling now but as I selected a few pictures I did my best to put it all into words.

There was no doubt in my mind that tomorrow I would be waking up a different man than I was this morning.

And that was all because of Leigh and Allie.

Social Media:

Leigh’s necklace:

#paul bissonnette #paul bissonnette imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #former player #former player imagine #014.1

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rukunas · 3 years

Text

—Give It a Go (part 1)

hawks (takami keigo) x assistant fem!reader

warnings: none (the series will eventually contain smut)

authors note: i had this in my drafts for a while, and i wanted to get it out before i took my hiatus for ramadan. i hope this makes you guys excited for the rest of the series <3 ramadan mubarak to those who celebrate !!

“and I'm pretending i don't care about her stare while she's giving me a tough time” — if you’re too shy by the 1975

“Mister Hawks, can you—”

“Sorry, birdie, can’t. Little bit busy here.”

He’s obviously not, with the way his feet are perched up on his desk, boots heavily laying on the stack of important documents you placed there an hour ago and, look, none of them are signed like you asked him to. Hands are tucked behind his head as he leans his chair back, a few red feathers wizzing through the air and— are they juggling stress balls?

“Mister Hawks—”

“Birdie,” he coos, cutting you off yet again. “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Keigo?”

The pen in your hand is about to snap in half, but you hold your breath, throwing a glare at him. “How many times do I have to tell you that it’s unprofessional? And don’t call me birdie.”

Hawks grins, the same bright smile that supposedly makes the public swoon and faint at his feet. The flash of his pearly whites just makes you want to punch him right in the jaw— a few gaps in his teeth would make him look better, no?

“Sorry, dove.” You swear his smile stretches a centimeter wider when he notices your frown. “But I’ve had a rough day. That villain down in Hosu took a lot out of me. Need to de-stress.” He jerks his head towards the feathers bouncing the stress balls to prove his point before gesturing to the papers on his desk. “Can ya just sign these for me? You know what my handwriting looks like.”

Your pen snaps in your hand, plastic cracking and ink splattering onto your palm. Hawks continues to beam, a glint bright in his gold eyes.

It was the spring of last year, your senior year of high school— the buzz of your classmates planning for college making you paranoid. “I got a 20k scholarship, but like, ew, I hate the campus.” “Meh, my parents are paying it all off, I don’t really care.” “I saved up, thank god my job pays well.” Well, funny for you, your top school gave you zilch in aid, your parents would much rather spend their money on themselves, and the only job you’ve ever had was babysitting— there was only a good $100 sitting in your account.

“Just get a job.” Okay, fine.

You thought it was luck— right there on page 3 of the newspaper— Number 2 Hero’s Assistant Wanted! You waited outside the commission office in a pretty skirt and dress shirt for a good three hours, standing behind a mile-long line of fangirls and guys wearing Hawks merchandise, proclaiming to each other that they would have the honor and privilege of being the assistant to the Number 2 hero. You remember rolling your eyes— these people are crazy.

It was finally your turn for the interview with the President of the Commission.

His first question: “Are you a Hawks fan?”

Your response: “No.”

It’s true, you never cared about heroes. Sure, they save lives, but so do hundreds of other jobs out there. When there’s a fight happening down the street, people gawking at the power of the heroes, you simply cross the block and stare at your phone. It’s nothing personal, it’s just that you don’t care.

After verifying that you were indeed not some Hawks groupie, you were hired on the spot. At the time, you thought it was the gods hearing your prayers of getting a giant paycheck, but now, you wonder if you got the job because of your lack of interest in the Pro Hero.

Your gap year was coming to a close, with the fall semester starting in less than a month. Resigning has been on your mind since you’ve started here, with Hawks whittling down your patience day after day, but now the thought pulses through your head at every awakening moment. Quit. Be free. You have the money. Just leave. You wonder if the moment will be like the movies, where you get to throw hot coffee in your boss’s face and stomp off with your hair whipping behind you, Who Run the World blaring in the background. Picturing the look of bewilderment on Hawks’s face is enough to make you smirk, delight bubbling inside of you.

“Hey. Birdie.” Hawks points to your white blouse. “You got a lil something on your shirt.” Looking down, there’s a blot spreading across your favorite shirt, a deep blue wave soaking up on white sand. Your favorite shirt, ruined.

No longer is this a movie moment.

“I quit.” It comes out a bit breathy, a bit too quiet, with the way you desperately try to swallow down your anger but it gets lodged in your throat.

Hawks, usually so attentive from the abilities of his quirk, completely ignores you. “Can you order me my usual from KFC, you know, with the honey barbecue sauce on th—”

“I. Quit.” It rips out of your throat, teeth clenched to keep yourself from screaming it out to him. His head snaps to face you, confirming that he’s actually paying attention now. “This is my two weeks notice. I’m leaving.”

For the first time in the 463 days of working for him, you witness Hawks lost at words.

At least for a second. His smile dims dramatically, eyes widening in shock— as if he never saw this coming— brows knitting together in confusion. The feathers floating in the air drop the stress balls with a plop, plop, plop. Maybe you should grab that cup of coffee on his desk— the one that says World’s Best Boss (yes, he bought it for himself)— and drench the hair he insists on spending an hour styling, and then walk away. Make this your movie moment.

Too late. In a snap, the saccharine smile is back in its place. But the skin by his cheeks stretching a bit too taut, the crinkles by his eyes slightly too tight. “Sounds good. Call the Commission, let the big boss know. Anyways. KFC? My order? And these papers too. Sign ‘em. I’ll protect ya in court if you get arrested for forgery.” His feathers pick up the balls and toss them up in the air, his mind back on juggling them.

You blink, astonished at his lack of care that you had just quit. Well, it’s not like you care much for him either. Still, you wished he would be a bit more expressive, at least after having to work for him for more than a year. A strange sensation begins to bloom in your chest, but you think nothing of it.

You turn on your heel. “I thought you supposed to be a hero, Mister Hawks.”

“Hm, me too.” He chirps out as you shut his door.

taglist (want to join? click here):

@katemocha @picklejuiceboba @keiqoswhore @bakubae @kennabranwenn @imkumichan @kanade123 @keigosbabychick @latenightdreamss @crapimahuman @Littlebluhellfire @Jjiangk @bakugous-cumsock @polariodinurroom

#keigo x reader #keigo fluff #hawks x reader #hawks fluff #hawks imagine #mha hawks #hawks headcanons #hawks x y/n #keigo takami #mha takami keigo #keigo imagine #keigo x y/n

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emkay512 · 3 years

Text

My love letter to the fandom

There’s something I’ve been wanting to say for a long time… I love you guys. And in total honesty, I actually actively think about you guys throughout my days. I literally mean that. I found choices and tumblr around late 2019/early 2020 (who can barely remember timelines these days?) and I have been blown away with the affection and support this group has given me.

Here’s my thing.. I have extreme social anxiety, I’m a very shy and awkward person, but yet, all of you that have read my shit, commented, reblogged, and even talked with me has touched me, and I can’t begin to express my gratitude. I think all of you are just so talented and amazing. I have so many things in my drafts and I just don’t know why I let them sit there. And I’m so sorry for all the balls I’ve dropped in my messages.

I find how extremely important it is to take time for self care, and you guys have no idea how much time I use your content as an act of self care for myself. Did you know that? YOU, yes you have impacted and improved my quality of life. God I hope this isn’t coming off as creepy. I just wanted tell all of you how grateful I am for the friendships you have extended to me. The last few months have been really tough, but I’m hopeful for things to improve and to catch up on all of your amazing work.

💞💖��🤍

So much love,

To: @queenrileyrose @burnsoslow @bbrandy2002 @ao719 @kat-tia801 @sincerelyella @charlotteg234 @neotericthemis @kingliam2019 @iaminlovewithtrr @amandablink @iluaaa @jared2612 @sfb123 @twinkleallnight @tessa-liam @secretaryunpaid @ladyangel70 @gkittylove99 @texaskitten30 @shanzay44 @ofpixelsandscribbles @sarcastic01lily @amandablink @iluaaa

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punkpoemprose · 3 years

Text

Advent 2021: December 4th- Virtual Chemistry Pt. 1

Universe: Modern AU/ College AU/ Cam Boy AU

Rating: E (Explicit, this is filth)

Length: 3318 Words

Summary: Anna is a lonely college freshman who is just trying to get through her chemistry coursework and not totally embarrass herself now that she’s finally on her own. Kristoff is a master’s student, funding his degree through a combination of student teaching and weekends as CamKris, a camboy. Some fluff, some angst, and a whole lot of sex stuff.

Note: This fic has been something I’ve been working on for... uhhhhhh... forever? I’m sure some of y’all recall me working on it, so I’ll be posting what I have done so it won’t just sit in my drafts for all eternity. Be warned folks this is fa-la-la-la-filthy, but there is plot! Our chat squad comments have been approved by the inspirations for their respective screen names, big thanks to them for always enabling my terrible ideas.

Anna blew out a heavy sigh and typed the web address into her laptop. She always felt guilty doing this on Sunday nights. She’d been raised a good girl, the type of person who didn’t look forward to watching pornography on the lord’s day, and yet she couldn’t deny that she did in fact look forward to it every Sunday.

She’d found his cam show by accident. She wasn’t exactly the type of person to go looking for the kind of content purveyed by the website in question, but a curious click on a women’s health forum had landed her face to face… or face to something entirely different… with screen name CamKris, a well-built man who performed for his online audience.

That she’d returned the following week had been up to curiosity. That she’d stayed the whole time and returned the next week had been the start of something she didn’t want to admit she enjoyed thoroughly. It started her weekend ritual of getting back from her study group, taking a shower and returning to her single dorm room to enjoy herself to the image of a man she didn’t even know, had never seen the face of, getting off.

Hey everyone. Nice to see some familiar screennames.

The tension in her spine left when she heard the deep voice speaking so softly through her speakers to the audience of less than 100 who had tuned in to watch him. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting herself imagine that he was there with her. She’d never seen his face, not really. Sometimes the angle of the camera would catch an almost look at his jawline, but she imagined him handsome and well-groomed in her head. Details didn’t matter so much to her, not when she was fantasizing.

Before I… get into the swing of things…

He laughed and it came across as nervous. That was why Anna had stuck around, despite the mental load of guilt it placed upon her shoulders. He seemed so real, so human, and while she knew that he was in fact both of those things, she liked that it didn’t seem like a performance. It was the little details of him, his relatable nervousness, that made the whole transaction feel a little better for her. It wasn’t voyeuristic, he wanted her there. He was shy, but warm and inviting. She flushed and opened her eyes, trying not to get too lost in her thoughts before even watching him.

Her favorite part was the beginning, watching him tease the camera a little as he took off his clothes, but not to the point of delaying the inevitable too long. It was almost cheeky when he did it, like he was reminding everyone watching that he knew what they were there for, but that he’d get there in his own time. She’d managed, in the past month she’d been watching him, to get off touching herself to the thought of just his muscled arms wrapping around her. That, she decided, was both extremely sad and sort of hot at the same time.

A lot of you in chat were asking to get to know me better. And I… I’m not entirely comfortable with that, but I thought we’d come to a sort of compromise here. I’m going to start a separate page. Subscribers only, where you can get more from me. It’s going to be very limited. 20 people, and you can…

He let out another nervous sigh, his hands, that had been resting loose at his side, went out of frame, where Anna could almost imagine them combing through his hair anxiously. Oh, how she’d like to run her fingers through his hair, to kiss those fingers, to have them between her own.

She huffed in return, deciding that her fantasies were, in fact, more sad than hot. She was glad that no one could see her like this, already a flushed wreck over a fully clothed cam model talking about his porn patreon, having completely unsexy fantasies about gentle intimacy with a man whose face she’d never seen.

You can make requests of me… And that includes having my face in cam. Obviously there’s going to be some specific rules about this content, but… if this ends up being a thing you guys want to do, there’s going to be a link at the end of tonight’s stream and you can check out what I’m asking from you and what you can ask of me. But now… well, let’s just get into it…

The hands that had been in his hair shifted to the camera itself, adjusting the angle and distance of the lens so that there was a much better view of his still clothed body sitting in a rather comfortable looking desk chair. Sometimes he’d be on the bed, which were the days Anna liked best, because those were the days with more accidental slips, where she’d see more of his jaw, his lips, once the slightest sneak peek at hair that looked blonde or light brown. She’d added that to her fantasy image of him.

He didn’t have music or anything on in the background, and while that meant she could sometimes hear background noise from what she assumed were his neighbors, she loved being able to hear all the little sounds he made when he moved, when he took himself in hand or used a toy to help or hinder himself in his semi-public search for pleasure. She loved the sound of his little pants and groans, but even more she loved the little exhausted laugh he’d give when he’d finished. It was another favorite of hers because again, it let her imagine him as real and shy and… she wasn’t sure what else. Attainable wasn’t the right word, but it seemed to be as close a description as she could find.

She watched with bated breath as he slowly, so slowly, unbuttoned the flannel he was wearing. It revealed a white t-shirt that fit everywhere except the arms and shoulders where it, like the flannel he had been wearing, was just so slightly stretched that it gave a teasing preview of the muscles beneath. She’d seen him take off his shirt what seemed like hundreds of times, and yet each time her breath caught in her throat a bit when he tugged if off and exposed, little by little, the skin of his torso. She bit her lip when he shrugged off the flannel and then tugged up on the bottom seam of the shirt, watching as the trail of hair that lead down from his navel was exposed.

She knew where that trail lead. She’d have to wait to see it, but oh what a sight that was to behold. She could feel the heat radiating off her as she leaned back in her dorm provided desk chair and parted her legs. She’d taken to wearing skirts on Sundays and though sometimes it felt strangely like she was wearing them for him, it really was just for the purpose of easy access, because she knew what seeing him did to her.

He was muscled, but not like the men in superhero movies or the covers of magazines. There was flesh to him, substance, and she knew that it meant that he had useable muscle, not show muscle. She was certain he could pick her up like she weighed nothing, and she’d imagined that one time too many perhaps. He wasn’t airbrushed hot, he was the honest goods, and when he peeled his shirt off the rest of the way, the shoulders resisting, holding on just a bit too tightly, she imagined how honest and good she could be for him in return.

That he chose that moment to let out a chuckle and mutter something she couldn’t quite catch over the sound of her own heart pounding, made the moment even more intense for her. It was like she’d said what she was thinking, and he was having a good-natured laugh about it. She would kill for someone to laugh with her right about now.

She had to close her eyes for a second, to center herself and try not to focus too much on why Sunday evenings spent like this meant so much for her. She tried not to focus on feelings at all, instead widening her legs and shifting her hand between them to gently begin the inevitable process of bringing herself to climax while watching him do the same. She had to start before he did because otherwise she’d only come once, and she liked to really get her “money’s worth”, enjoying the thoughtless time she could, pretending she had someone to enjoy herself with before reality set in again.

When she opened her eyes he was down to his boxers, giving her a very good look at him or at least almost all of him. Though she could see the straining fabric, and she knew what was barely hidden below it, she knew he was going to make her wait a little longer. He stroked a hand over himself through the fabric and Anna’s breath caught in her throat as she brushed her own fingers over the fabric of her panties in return. She liked to mimic what he did to himself, she touched herself in time to his attentions, touching, stroking, pressing, sometimes their moans matched up too and it gave her a sort of illicit thrill that she tried to not feel guilty about later. This might be a little bit of a unique way of getting off, but she knew it was natural to want it. Maybe her soul would suffer for it, but it felt good in the moment, and she decided that years of being a good girl probably outweighed a few Sunday nights spent getting herself off to a man who was enjoying himself and getting paid for it. No one was getting hurt, and she desperately needed the release.

She licked her lips when he shimmied out of his boxers and took himself in hand. She, in return, slipped her panties off, tossing them to the floor and turning her attention to her clit more directly, her fingers flicking and fluttering over it the same way they had through the fabric, but the lack of buffer making it even more intense. She could and would come from this alone, and soon. She liked to finger herself the second time, when he got close and she watched him climax, but a few days ago she’d received a special something in the mail that she’d never admit to owning if ever asked. While she could see it on her desk, long and hot pink, she’d decided not to take it on its maiden voyage until tonight, and not until after she knew she’d be nice and wet.

She had no experience. Less than no experience really. She hadn’t even talked about sex with anyone. She knew other girls liked to giggle and chat about it together, but she’d never been invited into any such conversation. Everything she knew had been from incognito mode google searches, romance novels, and the women’s health forum she’d been on originally for yoga tips, but had found a sexual health thread that had led her to the very website she was currently enjoying. The toy, too, had been touted as magic by the women on the site, and while Anna was looking forward to trying it out, she was also nervous about it.

Fuck.

He was groaning as he touched himself, and the filth that came from his lips was enough to bring Anna over the edge for the first time. She was easy, she thought every time she was able to make herself come without penetration. She’d climaxed during yoga once, which evidently was rare, but possible according to other women. She just remembered being terribly embarrassed, though she’s managed to be quiet and was pretty sure no one else had noticed.

She reached for the toy blindly, unable to tear her eyes away from his hand pumping over his cock. The nervousness in her rapidly abated, taking the thing and gently pressing it against her center, lubricating it with her own slick before slipping it, slowly and carefully inside her. It was thin compared to its length and she had no trouble accommodating it, though the sensation was a bit foreign.

She sighed into almost silence, his breathing the only other sound in the space until she clicked the little button on the device’s bottom and a buzzing joined their sounds.

She jumped about a foot at the added sensation, crying out loud enough that she was certain her neighbors could hear. She didn’t care much though, because he was close. She could tell now, after an embarrassingly long time of watching him, that the muscles of his abdomen always tensed when he was about to climax and that his movements would pick up speed.

She slipped the toy in and out, quickly finding the angle that most directly brought her pleasure. She’d long since found it with her fingers, so it took almost no time at all to determine where to direct the length of the toy. It had a little curve to the end of it, and it was a much-added improvement over her crooked fingers.

When she came for the second time, she quickly extracted the toy and shut it off before she slumped back in the chair with her eyes closed. She almost tipped herself over, proof of her clumsiness. It was only the action of saving herself from falling that forced her eyes open with enough time to watch him make a mess of his hand with a groan. She wished she could see his face. There was something about the idea of seeing his eyes flutter closed or watching the pleasure flow over his features that interested her thoroughly.

She listened to him pant as her own breath returned to normal. A wave of melancholy washed over her, as it always did, that it was over. She felt a bit pathetic, watching him go through the motions of ending the “show” by talking to camera and giving everyone one last good look at him before he logged off. Kris, if that was even his real name, was the one constant she had in her life at the moment, and even though she knew the strange sense of attachment and connection she felt watching him really was sort of sad, it was all she had. She’d been on campus for over a month and she hadn’t managed to make any friends. Her one terrible attempt at dating had her all but swearing off men, and so without even a roommate she felt lonely.

College, she thought miserably as she tried to straighten herself a bit, was supposed to be the end of the loneliness she’d been feeling all her life. Of course, there were people that were friendly with her, or at least nice enough that she counted them as acquaintances, but no one really seemed overly interested in getting to know her better, and she couldn’t particularly blame them. Afterall she was the one masturbating to some faceless guy every weekend and going to yoga just to be around other people.

When she turned her attention back to her laptop, to leave the website and head to sleep, she saw the promised link pop up on screen.

She clicked it almost as a reflex. It was an embarrassingly quick decision, but she told herself that it really wasn’t wrong to just look. Sometimes she liked to tell herself that she was supporting an independent business. Afterall it wasn’t like she was using some kind of largescale porn site or something that didn’t pay its creators. The money she was spending was going straight into the pocket of the guy she was watching on screen and that wasn’t any harm. She thought of it like buying something from someone’s etsy shop, except this specific etsy shop sold live camera footage of an attractive man rubbing one out on camera.

She huffed out a laugh, deciding that she was being ridiculous and went to click the x in the top corner of the page. She was already paying a few dollars a week to watch, it really didn’t make sense to get “extra content” when their arrangement was working just fine.

She couldn’t bring herself to click it. Instead she clicked the “Agree” button in the center of the screen to confirm that she was in fact over 18, even though she really was just 18 and a few months, but the internet didn’t need to know that, and it technically was over 18 after all.

The page that opened wasn’t particularly fancy. It contained a use agreement passage to read, the cost of the “membership” and what it entitled the purchaser to. There was a section about the restrictions, the way the $100 a month would be charged, and so on. If it weren’t for the fact that there were some screen grabs of cam footage decorating the page in places, she could have imagined it being a cable agreement or something.

She only felt a little bit bad when she crossed the room to dig her debit card out of her bag. She kept her mantra of “supporting an independent artist” in her head as she walked back. She had a trust fund, her college was paid for, other girls at the club she and her sister had been members of before she’d gone off to college dropped more than $100 a week on shoes. She could justify $100 a month on… entertainment.

“Fuck it,” she whispered, practically feeling every Arendelle family member since the inception of the family business hundreds of years earlier rolling in their graves as she typed the card number in. No one checked her accounts. It was her money since the day she turned 18, but still she was secretly very appreciative that according to the site’s terms of service, the charge would be listed on statements as “streaming services”. If it came down to it, she was more than ready to pretend she’d recently gotten very into boxing or something.

When she hit confirm and the site informed her that she’d be able to join the exclusive stream & chat the following Friday. She tipped back in the chair again and sighed. It had been like tearing off the Band-Aid to do it, but she hadn’t been struck by lightning or smote by an angry God or dead ancestor, so she considered it a win.

She finally managed to close her browser and then closed her laptop, turning nervously to her new partner in crime in all its hot pink splendor, wondering how the hell she was going to take it into the communal bathroom to wash it without completely ensuring that the girls on her floor would never be her friends.

***

MTB: Oh my gosh he’s hot, but… gosh I just want him scruffier. TSQ: Beard? I’m here for beard. KTFG: I am also very pro-beard. But also… maybe…. MTB: Oh please share this is a safe space. KTFG: Werewolf cosplay? TSQ: JFC. MTB: Okay okay okay. I NEED to know if he’d do that. KTFG: I mean, beard, torn flannel? MTB: Werewolf gloves? KTFG: You read my mind. TSQ: Wtf are werewolf gloves? MTB: Google image search, third result over. TSQ:… TSQ: Look y’all are nasty, but you had me at torn flannel. KTFG: That’s how we all start. TSQ: Just signed up for subscribers only. I’ll report back later. TSQ: About the beard and the flannel. TSQ: You’re going to have to figure out the glove bit yourselves. MTB: Bless. KTFG: ^

#kristanna #virtual chemistry #college au #kristanna advent 2021

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superhero--imagines · 3 years

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Etsy Store Here l Ko-Fi l Commission Info I Instagram I Zine

A/N: Looking for a beta reader for a personal writing piece, let me know if you feel like you're a pretty good editor! Also this has been sitting in my drafts for like 2 months, and IDK maybe I'll do more of them since it's kinda fun.

* Omg this freak is so stupid into the fact that you literally create universes with those godly hands

* I’m not kidding, I think a good 80% of his initial attraction to you was because you’re writing will literally make you immortal

* “You’re going to live forever,” Satoru says slightly breathless as he holds one of your print publications in his hand

* You’re just like ‘wtf’ so he explains-

* “You die twice, once when your body can no longer sustain itself, and the second the last time someone says your name.”

* Ah, so he thinks you’ll live forever in the sense that someone will always reference your work

* “That’s not exactly true though, one day the sun will swallow the earth whole, turning everything we love to dust”

* Satoru thinks you sound just like a writer when you say stuff like that

* “Well, unless we find another planet and have a database there or something”

* Satoru googles ‘how to buy a planet’ and ‘how much would it cost to set up a database in space’

* He’s got no respect for your craft- and by that I mean if you’ve got a deadline you’re trying to meet for a submission period or for your editor whatever, he’s just got no respect for it

* Queue Gojo shenanigans where he’ll hide all the pens in the house, or hide your laptop or something just so he can see you all flustered and panicked

* “I DONT HAVE TIME FOR THIS I ONLY HAVE 12 HOURS TO GET THIS IN!!” You shriek running from one end of your home to the other looking desperately for your laptop charger

* It’s too late in the game to order another one, and you don’t trust leaving Gojo alone in this house

* More than once you’ve left the house to replace whatever Satoru stole only to return to see even more of your things were gone now

* One time he rearranged all the furniture

* “It’s up there,” Gojo says grinning, and you look up to the ceiling fan to see your laptop charger idly hanging off one of the panels

* “I’ll get it down for you if you give me a kiss,” he says cheekily

* There’s sort of a method to the madness

* Part of it is yeah, Gojo loves to laugh, and nothings funnier than you when you’re flustered

* But part of it is you’ve been hunched over your laptop for days now, and you’re starting to be mean to yourself because you’re frustrated

* You need a break

* One he’s more than happy to offer

* And a teeny tiny portion is because he’s lonely

* Whenever you get sucked into a project it’s like you forget about him completely

* So he just wants to remind you he’s here

* And that he loves you

* You sigh, giving him a quick peck, and with a wave of his hand he brings the charger down

* “I expect a better reward when you’re done with your story”

* I think Gojo is probably a pretty big fan of your work

* In fact he’s probably your #1 fan

* But he’s super low-key about it.

* Buys all your publications on pre-order (never in large amounts so you don’t notice)

* If you’ve got into a bigger journal/magazine, or have a book at a bookstore will buy a copy every time he passes by one and see’s it

* He keeps one copy of each work on his bookshelf in the living room

* And then stores the rest/extra copies in a velvet storage box in a temperature-controlled area

* He also has another set that he notoriously marks up with notes/annotations

* “This part sounds like the time I brought them food and took them on a spontaneous date” he’ll say, scribbling furiously into the margin

* Gojo see’s your writing as an extension of you- of your soul

* So he does his best to try and figure out where you get inspiration from

* He’s especially delighted if he notices something he did, inspired something you wrote -

* “Ah the villain hid the hero’s laptop charger so they couldn’t turn in their assignment on top,” he says with a sigh

* - Even if it’s not always positive

* Honestly he plays it so cool you think he doesn’t really think anything of your profession until you come over to his place for the first time and see all your works in a neat line on his shelf

* And even then you think he’s just supporting you because he loves you, after all, they’re all in great condition, he probably hasn’t even opened them.

* And then a little further into the relationship, probably when you move in together or something

* You find all those marked-up copies

* Gojo Satoru has never been redder

* You’re genuinely concerned he might combust

* He’s acting like you just found his porn stash or something

* You wait for a few minutes for him to stammer out an excuse or something

* But when he can’t seem to form any words after several minutes you sigh and close the box

* “I didn’t see anything”

* He just nods

* You start giving him copies of your work yourself now that you know he’s so interested

* “O-oh no it’s fine-“

* It’s actually one of the rare times you see Satoru flustered

* “It’s fine, I insist, I’ve got too many contributor copies anyway”

* He takes them in his hand blushing

* He would show up to all of your readings or signing events -

* Disguised Ofc

* “Hey you should be careful, that guy looks super sketchy-“

* You look to where your manager is pointing, to a tall lanky guy wearing a black hair wig, and these tacky thick-rimmed pink glasses and you sigh

* “No need to worry, that’s just my moronic boyfriend”

* “You don’t have to show up in disguise you know”

* “Well what was I supposed to do? You didn’t invite me” he’s doing that thing where he gets all shy, a blush on his face and his fingers tugging a strand of hair

* You sigh

* The dork is oddly lovable

* “Well, from now on you’ve got an open invitation to all my events”

* He smiles so bright you would think you just offered to blow him in the middle of the bookstore

* He’s got his shortcomings

* “SATORU DID YOU HIDE ALL MY REFERENCE BOOKS?!?!”

* But you couldn’t have asked for a more supportive boyfriend

* “Kiss me and maybe I’ll tell you where they’re at”

* Or a better muse

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #Gojo satoru x reader #Gojo satoru imagine #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru #Gojo x reader #gojou x y/n #saturo gojou #Satoru Gojo imagine #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru jjk #gojo satoru headcanon #superhero—imagines

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everlarkficexchange · 3 years

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Magic as Always

Written by: @alliswell21

Prompt 71: Magic of Ordinary Days AU: 1940s, Katniss is a single pregnant girl. Desperate for her daughter not to have a child out of wedlock, Mrs Everdeen contacts a priest who in turn knows a young man who just may be willing to help. Sweet, kind and shy Peeta stayed home to take care of the family farm when his beloved brother went to war to never come back. He’s always wanted a family but rural small town life gives little chance to court. He hears of Katniss’ plight and graciously offers to marry her and raise the child as his own. He does everything he can think of to make a home for Katniss and the baby. How does Katniss take it? How does their relationship develop? Will they fall in love? [submitted by anonymous]

Rating: this chapter is rated Teens and Up

Tags: Historical!AU; WWII; 1940’s Era views on marriage, sexism, pregnancy, etc; Katniss/Marvel relationship; Non-graphic Unprotected Sex; Unplanned Pregnancy; Arrange Marriage; Miscellaneous Religious views; Grief/Mourning; Canon Characters Death; OOC!Mrs.Everdeen; Somewhat OOC!Katniss; Everlark is Endgame; Other tags to be added.

Notes: Thank you Anon for this prompt. I must confess, I’ve never seen the movie ‘The Magic of Ordinary Days’ or read the book the movie is based on. I did a quick skimming on the plot of the movie and then dug up all kinds of reviews on the book, most of my plot points come from a combination of movie and book (which apparently differ only in a few parts), besides what the prompter asked for. I just really loved this prompt, and see the potential of this story, which will be a few chapters long, cross posted to AO3 and I already have a good chunk written ;) The rating will be adjusted too, because there will be explicit Everlark smut in the following chapters. Anon, I hope I don’t disappoint you, this story will be only loosely based on the source material, and adapted to fit THG characters in the narrative, I will try to stick to the main plot points as much as I can, but I’m also taking several liberties with the story. I hope you still like it though.

KPKPKPKPKPKPKPKP

Prim died on a Tuesday, after a very long, strenuous battle with poliomyelitis. My sweet little sister’s face looked as fresh as a dew drop even in death.

“Come now, Katniss,” my mother calls from the open door of the mortuary hall, where visitation took place an hour ago.

The mortician has arranged for the coffin to be taken to the cemetery and put in the ground this afternoon. There will be no graveside mourning. It’s all we could pay for, but then again the war has left everyone penniless nowadays.

A big, rotund man comes to close the coffin, and offers a curt nod.

That’s it then. The very last time I’ll ever set eyes on Primrose’s sweet face.

“Katniss,” Mother whispers, insistently. It’s probably all she can muster before breaking down in tears.

I look on at the box my sister’s body lies in, numb and heartsick. I bring my 3 middle fingers to my lips and then rise them in the air. My last salute to my beloved Little Duck. I step away from the coffin and shuffle towards mother.

Up close, I can see the deep, dark bruises under my mother’s eyes. She used to be beautiful in her youth— according to friends and old photographs— but now she just looks tired and defeated. I guess having to bury first her husband and then her 15 year old daughter, in less than a year, would have that effect on anyone.

Prim would’ve looked like our mother, with their soft blonde locks, almond shaped blue eyes and alabaster skin. She had a softer spirit though, she enjoyed music and loved animals. She always said that if she was older, she would’ve joined the Red Cross and signed up to serve as a nurse to our boys in the Pacific, like Father did… Father wasn’t a nurse though, he was a chaplain.

It’s funny to think that I inherited so much of my father, like my dark hair, gray eyes and olive skin. We both also share the same aversion to human pain and blood that moves my mother and Prim to action; but unlike Prim, my father’s calling to help the soldiers in their worst situations, passed me and went directly to my baby sister.

I sigh… Prim would’ve made a terrific army nurse, if only she hadn’t wasted in bed with that odious disease! If she had been given the chance to live, I’m sure Prim would’ve had so many boys trailing after her. She would marry at some point and have a beautiful full life.

I don’t plan on marrying and having a family. If the acute pain in my own chest wasn’t enough warning, watching my mother walk silently from the funeral home to our apartment, with her head bowed and listening to her quiet sobs at night would be enough evidence that there’s too much sorrow in losing one’s husband and children.

I think my efforts will be better spent in cultivating my mind, and getting my degree in botany, like my father always dreamed, anyway… plus, I’m not much of a looker… not like Prim at any rate.

We finally arrived at our modest home. Mother drifts ghost-like into the door, and then we both shuffle quietly into our separate bedrooms. There won’t be a meal at the table tonight, but I make sure Prim’s old tomcat gets fed and watered, and after he meows in distress at my sister’s door, I open mine, and let him strut inside my bedroom and hop into my bed. The hideous fur ball and I distrust each other, but he understands his mistress is never coming back, and he’s the last thing I have from her… so he lets me pet him and he cuddles close to my chest as I fall asleep, crying.

——————————-

Mother and I walk slowly through the busy streets of town, mostly ignoring the bustle and disarray around us. People shout, cars honk horns, a baby cries in the distance, and the few young men rush back and forth in the busy sidewalks, like they’re being lashed by invisible whips.

“We should stop by the grocer and see if we can pick up some eggs.” Says my mother, pulling her “Sugar Book” out of her handbag.

Because of the war, everything is being rationed, from sugar to shoes.

I could care less about food and clothing, though. But I still go into the shop, dutifully.

I’m so immersed in my own thoughts, I don’t see the lanky man walking towards me with his arms full of vittles.

We collide. The man’s groceries fly up in every direction, raining over me, as I sit on my rump on the floor.

My mother is nowhere to be seen. Typical.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there!” Says the man, pulling a packet of oatmeal from the floor, while extending his other hand to help me up.

“No… it’s alright, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Well, let’s agree that we’re both klutzes, and leave it at that?” The man offers.

I’m on my feet, dusting my skirt off and righting my blouse, “Sure, let’s do that.” I scowl at the skew state of my clothes and finally look up at the man.

He’s smiling down at me, and I must admit, his smile is dazzling. He’s got short brown hair, greenish-brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles over his nose. He also towers above me.

“My stars! If it isn’t Katniss Everdeen!” The young man says, unexpectedly excited.

I blink owlishly at him, and try to place his face, but I’m horrible at remembering people. Or their names.

“Marvel Quaid,” he offers genially, unfazed by my lack of response, “we went to grade school together?” He prompts, “My pa used to sell luxury goods in District One?”

“Oh, I think it’s coming back now,” I say smiling for the first time in what feels like months. “You used to throw sticks, pretending they were spears or something,” I tell him, showing that indeed, I do remember him.

Marvel scrunches his nose, “Javelins, actually. I was pretending I threw javelins. I saw a fellow doing it for the Olympics in a film, and then he won a medal for it. I thought to myself that making a victory lap with the good old American flag flapping after oneself looked like fun; well, I wanted to be a victor too!” He chuckles, then deflates. “But as everything, those dreams are gone now, crushed to dust under the weight of the war.”

As is the norm, once the war gets brought up, gloominess settles on, dampening the cheeriest of spirits.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m all too familiar with the sentiment.”

Marvel nods, grimly.

“We lost Father in France.” I’m not sure why I said it. “We put my sister in the ground last week, too.” I avert my eyes.

“Aww, geez, Kit… that’s truly awful. I’m so sorry for your loss,”

I’m mildly surprised I don’t immediately recoil at his little pet name. I guess the fact that he doesn’t sound condescending while delivering his condolences, helps.

“Oh, well, as my father would’ve said, at least their toils in this world are over. They can finally rest in peace.”

After a moment of heavy silence, Marvel shares, “I’m being shipped out tomorrow morning.”

I scowl, “Oh,” I bite the inside of my cheek, wondering how he’d manage to evade the draft for this long? Marvel is my age, 19 going on 20… boys get sent to the front lines at 18. “I… I could write to you… if you wanted?” I offer shyly.

Isn’t that what young women are being told to do, in order to keep our boys’ morale from plummeting?

Marvel grins, showing slightly crooked teeth, “That would be swell, Kit!” He stares at me for a long moment, then sighs, “I should go back to my shopping, before they miss me at home. Lord knows when will I have the chance of doing something as mundane as picking up my mother’s weekly grocery allowance.”

These days it is not only uncommon seeing men doing grocery runs, but simply seeing young, able-body men around, period. All of our boys are either in Europe or the Pacific, fighting to keep the devastation of the World war from reaching our shores.

“Well, for what is worth, I hope you get to return home safely… you know, so you can do all the boring tasks your mother tells you to do. And when I say safe, I mean, I hope you don’t run anymore into spaced out girls, like me,” I smirk.

“Oh, Kit, if only you knew how much I’ve enjoyed our accidental skirmish. It’s like a gift from above, seeing you after all these years. Your smile and the color of your eyes will forever be branded in my mind, to give me a reason to fight. To have a dream,”

I’m momentarily floored by Marvel’s florid little speech. Nobody has ever said anything nearly as sweet and gallant as that to me, and for a moment, I forget all about my dead sister and father, the war, and my own sorrow.

I avert my eyes, bashfully, as he finishes picking up his vittles off the floor.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” I lean over to pick up a can of milk, and put it on top of his pile.

“I only speak the truth,” he smiles brightly.

My mother chooses to interrupt at the exact moment I bat my lashes at him, “Katniss, there you are! I’ve been waiting for you by the counter.” She shakes her head.

Marvel wobbles on his feet, rearranging his load, and then greets my mother, warmly, “Mrs. Everdeen, how nice to see you again,”

My mother eyes him, unimpressed. “Good afternoon, young man,” she answers.

“Ma’am… pardon my forwardness, but, would it be too troublesome to ask Miss Katniss to accompany a soldier about to be shipped out, to supper in the town?”

My mother narrows her eyes, distrust dripping from her voice as she speaks, “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. My daughter and I are in mourning, you see,”

“Oh, this won’t be an untoward celebration of any kind, ma’am. With the war raging on, we’re all in mourning. All I ask for is one last night of normalcy, a chance to reconnect with an old grade-school mate,” he smiles, hopefully, “For old times sake?”

I’m watching my mother’s face closely, with bated breath.

“Very well,” Mother sighs, “You may ask Katniss out to dinner. But have her home by 9 sharp!”

I don’t hesitate to step up and give him directions to my apartment building in District 12.

I spend the rest of my day giddy and nervous, pressing my best Sunday suit, the gray one with the matching jacket, and polishing my only pair of leather shoes. There isn’t much I can do about my hair… the thing can’t be fashioned into the favored waves, not even putting it in curlers overnight, so I let it be.

I briefly wonder if this was all Prim’s doing? Meeting Marvel and mother’s somewhat easy aquiciscent. Prim hated seeing me sad, and constantly talked about how she’d love to help me get ready for dates with a beau. She couldn’t wait to be of courting age and date a strapping, young man herself… but of course, that would never happen for her, but she would probably still want to see me have those things.

Maybe Marvel is right, and our serendipitous encounter is a gift from above, to heal our wounds… at least for the night.

————————-

Marvel arrives at my house in his father’s car at 5:45. Riding is now such a luxury, with gasoline being rationed and all. He takes me to a quaint little dinner in the middle of town. We share malts, a greasy burger, and a small portion of fries and onion rings.

We talk about baseball:

“You’d look good in a baseball uniform, Kit! Can you still run as fast as you did in school?”

I laugh. “I’m not much for sports,” I demure, “but I’ve heard playing in one of the new teams pays alright. Anyway, I’m gonna be starting my second year of college soon. I put my studies on hold while Prim was at her worst, but now that it’s only just me and mother… I’m anxious to go back to study.”

“Wow, beautiful and smart!”

We talk about cars:

“I loved driving… but Mother sold our car when my sister took a turn for the worse. She didn’t want to at first, saying that Father saved up to buy it, and it held sentimental value to her, but I had to push to sell it. We needed the money and gas was a nightmare to come by, anyway,”

“The only reason we still have ours,” says Marvel, “is because Pa is too stubborn to let go of the things that still made him feel wealthy.” He scowls, “He’s trying to get into the ice business now, since it’s pretty much the only thing one where the raw material is plenty and relatively cheap, and there’s guarantee that people will buy the product… everyone still needs ice for their ice boxes, right?”

No one can afford luxuries anymore with every penny going out to support our boys in the battlefields.

We talk about many other subjects: his sister’s wedding; my father’s unit getting pinned and killed by Germans… We didn’t get a body to bury, but I got a medal on his behalf as his eldest child.

Marvel lets me sniffle against his chest, and then kisses my lips slowly.

I’ve never been kissed on the lips, and I feel my face heat up.

“Would you… like to take a drive with me, Kit?”

We drive all the way to the city limit. It’s exhilarating to be in a car again, and sitting at the overlook, at twilight, alone with a handsome boy, feels positively forbidden!

I’ve never done anything remotely injudicious all my life, and this whole moment feels… magical… exciting!

Tentatively, I initiated our next kiss, but he takes over in a rush of caresses and flitting touches.

“Beautiful, graceful, Kit. You have no match!”

“Marvel…” I kiss him again, not knowing how to answer his sentiments with words.

His hands are restless, groping my shoulders and elbows. “I wished he had more time! I would’ve loved to marry you before departing. I would’ve show you so much passion and love!”

“You still can show me, Marvel… you absolutely can!”

It’s all the permission he needs to dive into a frenzy. He doesn’t stop until the deed is done, and we’re a sweaty, tangled mess of limbs in the back seat of the car, only partially clothed.

A deep feeling of lethargy pours over me. My muscles are sore and heavy, and wished I could fall asleep in here.

“I intend on coming back to marry you, Katniss,” Marvel says, stretching his lanky, long legs to zip up his pants.

I sit up and start finger-combing my ruined hair, hoping my mother won’t notice the strands are extra frizzy. “Um… I guess we should after this,” I say shyly, gesturing between us.

“You could still go to college while I’m away,” he offers with magnanimity.

“You… wouldn’t mind that?” I ask incredulous, college women are so rare, unless they’re trying to become nurses or teachers. Most girls start courting right after high school and get married in the span of one to two years, and their husbands don’t normally encourage an education beyond what their wives came into the marriage with; so to hear Marvel say that wouldn’t mi d me stay in college is just about the greatest thing possible!

“My darling, Kit, I don’t want you to be one of those girls pining and wasting away for her beau. I’ll be busy at war, it’ll be unfair to keep you from occupying your own time while you wait fir my return. Go to college, my clever girl!”

I smile indulgently at him, leaning closer to slip his necktie around the collar of his shirt, “You are truly a generous, loving man,” I say.

Marvel beams, circling my waist with his arms pulling me against his body. “It’s all inspired by you, sugar plum!”

I giggle, kissing his cheek, “I’ll write to you every day!” I promise.

“That’s nice… but just so you know, I might not be able to write back right away. It’ll be a while before I get settled enough to write. But you’ll be in my thoughts every minute of every day, and that’s the honest truth! I’m serious about marrying you when I return, Kit,” he kisses me again. And then, he looks at his watch, sighing. “It’s 8:32. We should get on going, gotta keep in my future mother-in-law’s good graces!”

We share a carefree laugh, and finish tidying ourselves up to drive back to my house.

He walks me to the door, takes me in his arms, and kisses me passionately before promising he’d be back to officially ask for my hand in marriage, and for my part, I swear I’ll write to him every day until he returns home safe and sound.

But neither of us keeps our promises in the end, although I tried.

————————-

Three weeks go by and I keep my word of writing daily letters. I receive no word in return from Marvel, but think nothing of it… Europe is far and traveling by sea is tedious and time consuming; Marvel will get in touch once he’s settled down.

Another week goes by, still without news from my would-be fiancé. I still don’t worry. I’ve been busy with university, and the few other girls attending school with me keep me busy, but my heavier workload is starting to get to me.

I’m usually so tired and moody after school that socializing with my classmates becomes a chore. I barely eat supper before I’m passing out in bed, and my letters to Marvel start to get shorter and simpler with every passing day.

I skip writing one afternoon altogether, and take a long nap. Buttercup— Prim’s ugly cat— perches on my bed like a sentinel to watch me sleep. I believe he’s worried about me… stupid, clingy cat thinks I’m sick.

But the feline’s intuition proves right, because just two days later, I shoot out of bed and run into the washroom to spill every last ounce of last night supper into the toilet. I must’ve caught a bug or something!

I feel queasy and lightheaded every morning after. My appetite wanes and it seems my delicate stomach can only tolerate pears, and broth.

I visit the post office to place out my letters to Marvel almost everyday; Every time I come, the nice old mailman comments on how sweet it is to see all the young-uns holding romance strong. Marvel has yet to respond to one of my letters, so I just smile tightly and demure.

I’ve been thinking though; the longer I go without news of my supposed future husband, and despite the whirlwind night of romance with him, I start questioning my actions, my promises. I never wanted to marry before, and suddenly I was okay getting a hasty, unofficial engagement with a virtual stranger, I barely remember from grade school… maybe it’s better if Marvel never writes.

My plans on earning a college degree and finding a well paying job will go unencumbered— I’m aware women in prominent working professions are as rare as snow in July, but women’s presence in the working forces keep growing as industries need laborers to keep up producing while the men fight in the war. Educated women are almost becoming less rare.

At the two month mark since I last saw Marvel, I become weepier than usual… is to be expected in my opinion; Prim’s been gone for a little over two months and she was the only person I knew I loved. But now I’m worrying about my health on top of everything.

One morning, while I’m kneeling on the cold, hard floor in front of the toilet, feeling miserable and tired, my mother calls my name from the open door.

“Katniss, I think it’s time to get a test.” She states evenly, and then enters the room to fetch a damp washcloth to wipe my face clean. “I hope I’m wrong, but I’m afraid you may be with child,” she sighs.

I squirm. “No,” I gasp. “I— I can’t be with child. I just can’t!” But the thought has crossed my mind a few times already. “It’s not supposed to be this way!”

“I know, child,” My mother pats my head, “there’s only one way to know. Get dressed for the day, I will call the most discreet physician I know, and have him pay us a visit.”

————————-

Doctor Aurelius— a physician my mother has helped deliver babies and treat maladies with— confirms the pregnancy with a grim face.

I sit at my kitchen table numb and despondent. My mother writes a check to the doctor for his services, while talking in no so hush tones in the other room. I listen to their whole conversation, as if submerged in water.

“I blame myself for this, doctor. I should have kept a closer eye on her,”

“Don’t blame yourself Ms. Everdeen, it’s that war business bringing out all sorts of evil into the world! It’s unfortunate the rise of these cases in our community. Young ladies— from good families!— engaging in acts ought to be saved for marriage. Youth do things without thinking, guided by fear. Our boys fear they may not return from that senseless, awful war, and settle down properly, and I don’t blame them one little bit.”

“The only solace I have right now, is that my poor husband is not here to see the shame that’s fallen over our family,”

“I understand the sentiment, ma’am. There’s no telling how Preacher Everdeen would’ve taken this blow. But I’m sure things will work out as soon as young Katniss hears from the father…”

I dissolve into silent tears then. My mother escorts the doctor to the door and then there’s silence.

My pinky finger curls into the soft fabric of the table cloth, and I try to ignore the urge to vomit boiling in my stomach. There’s one thought circling mi mind: my college days are over.

——————————-

“Ah! Miss Everdeen, I have something for you.” Says the mailman as soon as I reach the desk. He smiles, but rather sadly, like he’s about to give me bad news.

I’ve come to the post office with urgent letters every day for 6 days, and he’s never looked at me this way.

The old man digs around for a moment and almost reluctantly, passes a parcel tied up in twine. An envelope is attached to the top of the parcel, and with a sinking feeling, I realized it’s a stack of my own letters.

“It came in today, miss.” Says the man, voice laced with pity. “Sorry for your loss.” He says.

At first I don’t understand what he could possibly mean by that; he’s offered his sympathies fir my dead father and sister already; it makes absolutely no sense to repeat himself randomly after so long.

Then it hits me like a ton of bricks.

I gasp, and press the parcel to my chest. “Oh no! Marvel!” I whisper. I give the man a hasty wave, thanking him, and rush out of the post office like mad.

Tears run down my cheeks, while I dash home, imagining the worst. “Poor, Marvel!” Is all I can think.

“Katniss, what’s wrong?” My mother calls, alarmed, when I rush to my bedroom, sobbing. She follows me in, and watches me tear into the envelope at the top of the stack.

I frown in confusion when I’m met with handwritten, chicken-scratch scrawl, instead of a formal missive typed in official US military stationary.

My scowl deepens as my eyes rove over the flowery vocabulary, and then I screech, “What?!”

“Katniss, what’s going on?”

I ignore my mother when she approaches to read over my shoulder; I step around her, shaking the piece of paper in my hands and stand by the window, as if sunlight will make the words change their meaning.

I smooth the creases and folds on the page over, and read out loud, “Dearest Kit, sorry it took so long to write, it’s been a wild time since we arrived and finding time to correspond with everyone back home it’s been hard.

“At times, your letters have been the sole source of light and hope in the darkness of this conflict. Is for that reason, and with a heavy heart, that I must come clean to you now. I truly meant it when I swore to come back and make you my wife, but as the Good Book says, the Lord works in mysterious ways, and love has sprouted out the most unlikely place! Kit, I’ve fallen in love and married a lovely gal here in England…”

I stop reading. He goes on talking about the why and how, but I sincerely don’t care.

“That good for nothing, virtue dasher, future crushing… liar!” My mother bleats to the ceiling, raising her palms over her head, dramatically.

I’m angry too, of course. I feel used and disposed of like a dirty rag, but my mother’s reaction is borderline hilarious. Except, it isn’t.

I’m pregnant, unmarried, and soon— once my still flat stomach starts rounding— I’ll be socially ostracized for my condition. My only saving grace was the promise of marriage that bastard Marvel had given me. But that’s gone now.

“I knew that boy was bad news the second I laid eyes on him! He never even introduced himself to me, the little weasel! This is my fault. My fault! I should’ve never allowed you to run amok with the likes of him…”

“Mother, will you please?” I nearly growl, gesturing at the open bedroom door.

She stares at me uncomprehendingly for a moment, before pursing her lips in disapproval, and stalking out of the room muttering her aggravation under her breath.

I sink into my bed with Marvel’s stupid letter crumpling in my fist. A single, hot, angry tear rolls down my face, and for the first time since finding out of its existence, I hug my midsection and address my child, “I’m so sorry for dragging you into this mess. I know you didn’t ask for a mother like me, but I’m all you got now, little one. I promise we will be alright… I’ll try not to let you down.”

———————-

My mother has been unbearable for the last two days. She cries in her room worse than when Prim died, and when she sees me, she starts lamenting my poor choice, like I’m not even standing there… as if I don’t feel discouraged enough.

I keep myself busy with my education. I will need to earn this diploma now more than ever before, and I need to do as much as I can before the baby arrives and my studies get put on hold.

In the meantime, I scout the newspapers for possible work options to sustain me and my mother. Our savings keep diminishing and the small stipend my mother got from the Army since my father passed away is becoming more insufficient by the day.

There’s a knock on the front door, and I push out my chair unhappy by the interruption.

“Afternoon Miss Katniss! Would you let your mother know she’s got a telephone call down in the lobby?” Says the building’s doorkeeper.

“Of course, thank you. She’ll be right down!”

Telephones are yet another luxury we had to give up when moved to this small place after losing my father.

I go back to my job hunt, and my mother descends to the lobby, quickly.

She returns after only 10 minutes, almost running through the door, excitedly calling my name. Tears wet her face, but her smile is so blinding, even without knowing what sort of news she’s heard to cause her such joy, I stand from the table with nervous anticipation.

“Oh, Katniss! Katniss my dear daughter, you’re saved!” She exclaims, hugging me tightly.

I’m confused. I step away from her embrace, “What do you mean?”

“It’s the best thing possible ever, I tell you! The Lord has answered all of my prayers!”

“This is all so exciting and all, mother, but… could you please share this great news already?”

My mother cups my face in her hands, and beams at me, “You need to pack your things, darling! Your father’s good friend, Reverend Undersee, has found a husband, and you are to wed, in three days time!”

—————————

Reverend Undersee and his daughter, Madge, meet me and my mother at the rinky dink bus station, in the equally tiny town my mother has banished me to.

“Katniss! How long has it been?” Says Madge, hugging me enthusiastically.

I bite my tongue to keep the acidic retort of “not long enough!” to leave my mouth.

“Welcome to Panem,” says the reverend, soberly, shaking my mother’s hand in greeting.

“Thank you, revered. We appreciate your hospitality and your understanding,” my mother responds, then gives me a pointed look and a wordless command.

I nod and mutter, “Thank you, sir. Madge,”

I scowl at a crack in the pavement, not feeling an iota of gratefulness for this charade!

Any man agreeing to this questionable union has to either be desperate, or be hiding terrible, ulterior motives to go along with all of this. Nobody in their right mind would willingly marry a girl pregnant with another man’s baby, and be happy about it… unless that’s the reason!

I shudder at the thought.

But it is a very real possibility that my intended is a simpleton, who can’t find a wife otherwise… or worse! It could be a man very advanced in age, looking for a supple, young body to leech off. Gross!

My mother had been too excited about the news that a man offered to marry me (as if I asked for, or even wanted a husband!) to bother to ask his name.

Reverend Undersee coughs daintily, clears his throat, and starts, like he’s giving a lecture at the university. “It is our Christian duty to lend a helping hand to widows and orphans in their time of needs. Same way it’s our duty to keep the memory and honor of an old friend from being dragged into the mud.”

I wince at the harsh words, and let my face fall lower, if that’s even possible.

“Well, it’s a good thing that we are all recipients of the abundant grace of the Lord, which covers multitude of faults, and it’s never hard to reach,” a deep, velvety, masculine voice cuts into my embarrassment.

I lift my eyes from the ground, to find a man striding confidently in our direction. He smiles kindly at me, his eyes fixed on my own, like I’m the only person still standing in the station.

He finally cedes our staring contest, to take in the rest of the group.

A knot forms in the pit of my stomach, because I recognize him from years past when my family used to visit this town, and I’m afraid I know exactly why he’s here.

“Good afternoon, all. I apologize for my tardiness, I had a last second detail to take care of before leaving the house,” he nods in our general direction, taking his hat off; a riot of ashy blonde curls falls onto his forehead, before bending forward to shake my mother’s hand, “I’m Peeta Mellark, at your service, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Likewise, mister Mellark,” says my mother, her lips twitch tersely, “Widow Everdeen, and this here is my daughter Katniss… your bride.”

Peeta Mellark’s baby blue eyes slip back to mine, and the left side corner of lips curls into a shy, earnest smile. “Welcome to Panem, Katniss, I’ll sure do my best, so you’d like it here.”

#alliswell21 #prompt 71 #Springtime Edition 2021 #submission

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