#to be loved
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To Be Loved - 01
Here's where she meets prince charming.
⤑ pairing: namjoon x reader
⤑ genre: hybrid au, romance, hurt/comfort
⤑ rating: 18+
⤑ word count: 5.2k
⤑ warnings: DEPICTIONS OF READER IN A TOXIC RELATIONSHIP (i.e, manipulation, domestic/verbal abuse, threats, degradation, violence toward reader), bullying toward reader, the "gaston" character is a straight-up asshole lmao, hyrbids are treated as second-class humans, description of bodily harm, sexual harassments, minor violence, based off 2013 namjoon in this chapter lol. please be mindful of the warnings!!⤑ note: happy birthday, namjoon!! while i was taking a break from magic shop, i've been working on a couple other projects and i finally finished one. it's truly a coincidence that i completed this story today lol. this story is loosely based off beauty & the beast but with hybrids.
Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 (End)
It was a dark and stormy night.
Flickering fluorescent lights. The heat of the jeering crowd. Grey concrete in the old warehouse. Speakers reverberating a deep bass that fills the room. Thunder is drowned out as two amateur rappers spit lines on the small stage, eliciting reactions from the audience before them.
One of the contestant’s attention drifts to the crowd until he makes eye contact with you. It seems like he was looking for you. The moment you raise your hand to offer a tiny, half-hearted wave, the corners of his lips tug to a haughty smirk. Then, with the microphone to his lips, he puffs out his chest, turns back to his opponent, and begins rapping.
You’re less than impressed when he finishes his turn and is declared the winner of the round.
To be fair, however, this isn’t your scene. It’s too loud. Too rowdy.
If it were up to you, you’d be at home. Safe and cozy in your warm bed, curled up to a good book or movie. Initially, you didn’t even want to come, complaining that the weather is awful, the venue is too small, the floors are sticky, and that there are too many people.
But he insisted that you come tonight. For him.
One of his friends has her arm linked with yours, anchoring you to her. Her eyes are bright with excitement as she screams in your ear, “Fighting! Kangdae!”
The one you’re all here to see stands on the stage, relishing in the audience’s attention. There’s a smug look on his face when he meets your gaze, as if checking to see if you’re just as impressed with his performance as the rest of the audience is.
Politely, you clap your hands, not quite sure what the etiquette for these types of things are.
The host continues to rile up the crowd, daring any of the other contestants to step forward and challenge Kangdae.
No one does.
Except for one.
Silence follows as a lanky, tall contestant comes onstage. One that no one has heard from yet. Sunglasses cover his eyes, but you can make out some of his predominant features: his full lips, the deep dimples in his shy smile, his tanned skin.
“Okay, kid,” the host says, intrigued. “Show us what you got.”
The kid is handed a mic. Kangdae looks him up and down and scoffs.
The difference between the two is telling.
Kangdae lives for the attention, wildly gesturing and getting into his opponent’s face. He encourages the crowd to cheer him on like that. Their hoots and hollering pumps the adrenaline in his veins as he verbally attacks the guy ballsy enough to challenge him.
His opponent, to your surprise, stands quietly as he’s thrown insult after insult. Then, when it’s his turn, the room falls in awe. His flow makes him sound professional, even though he sounds quite young. You’re impressed with his wordplay, how he keeps up with the rhythm, how he delivers the lines.
He’s by far your favorite of all the ones you’ve heard tonight.
There’s a clear winner after the boy with sunglasses is done, though rather than shove his victory at his opponent’s face, he holds out his hand to Kangdae and offers a dimpled smile.
Rap Monster.
That’s what they call him.
And as Kangdae bitterly shakes his hand, stunned at the turn of events, you’re beginning to see why they call him that.
In your small, provincial town, Kangdae has it all. He’s a handsome young man, athletic and popular. His family is well-off; so much so that he can indulge in expensive clothing brands, own the newest models and gadgets, and party every weekend at some bougie club or resort. Guys look up to him. Girls are in love with him. He lives off the attention and praise from his big circle of friends.
And yet, for whatever shallow reason, he seems fixated on you.
Unlike Kangdae, you hate being in the spotlight. It makes you shy. It makes you feel nervous. You tend to keep to yourself because of that, reading books or watching animal videos on your phone. You feel like you hardly have any friends in the town.
Then, one day, seemingly out of nowhere, Kangdae declares he wants you to be his girl.
And suddenly, you’re on everybody’s radar.
Why would someone so brilliant and outgoing even be interested in a boring and quiet person like you?
That’s a question even you often wonder.
Finding the answers to that, however, becomes unwarranted.
People start to talk to you. People you’ve never spoken to before suddenly act friendly toward you. People who’ve never spared you a glance suddenly want to know all your dirty secrets. People who don’t even know you begin to spread rumors.
“The whole town already knows you’re my girl,” Kangdae tells you one day, while you’re sitting on the steps of your house, eyes red from tears of a recent bullying incident. He doesn’t seem to care about that though. In fact, you’re certain he’s even laughed about it at your expense. “Why don’t we just make it official? You’re not dating anyone, are you?”
“Are you even attracted to me?” you ask him seriously.
He shrugs. “Yeah, you’re hot. I heard quiet girls can get quite freaky too.”
“No way,” you cut in, repulsed by his insinuation. You stand on your feet, turning to go inside. “I’ll never–”
Before you could open the door, you’re suddenly shoved against it. Kangdae towers over you, anger burning in his eyes. He’s never been rejected. He always gets his way.
It’s something you learn the hard way.
“Then I’ll make sure your life continues to be a living hell,” he threatens before he releases you.
More than before, unwanted attention is thrown at you. As soon as you enter the classroom, people stare and sneer. You hear them whisper about you in the hallways. You’re confronted in small groups. Accusations that you think you’re too good to be dating someone like Kangdae. How there must be something wrong with you.
In the eyes of many, Kangdae is perfect. Objectively handsome. Popular among his peers. Comes from money. All the guys you know want to be him. All the girls you know want to be with him. What makes a nobody like you think that you can do better?
You hardly had any friends in the town, but not once have you ever felt this isolated. You’ve never felt this singled-out. It feels like the whole world is against you.
You can’t take it.
“Kangdae,” you call out to him, stopping as he’s about to head to the field. He’s dressed in his sports uniform, about to go into a match against another school. “One date.”
A Cheshire smile spreads across his face. “I knew you wouldn’t resist, babe.”
You try not to cringe when he plants a wet kiss on your cheek.
Maybe you’re naïve. But maybe that’s why Kangdae is after you.
You’re quiet, soft-spoken, and incredibly shy. You don’t have a lot of friends, and you haven’t had a serious relationship before him. You don’t know anything about what love really is. Yet, despite what an odd loner you are, you’re a beautiful girl. Innocent and loyal to a fault. An easy target for Kangdae to walk all over.
With his hand around your waist, you feel like an accessory. Before you ever considered dating him, he already declared you as his girlfriend, telling even strangers that he passed by that you would one day be his.
“Right from the moment I saw you, I think I fell in love,” he admits on your first date, taking you to a nice, upscale restaurant. It’s different from anything you’ve experienced in your small town. The menu items are so expensive, it doesn't list pricing, and each course that is presented at your table is like a work of art.
What’s most interesting about this restaurant, however, isn’t just the food. But the staff.
Gorgeous women in white blouses and black skirts that show off their voluptuous curves and long legs. Poking at the back of the skirts are tails. And on their heads are pairs of animal ears. Some of them have stripes or spots on their skin, some have nails as sharp as claws, and some have unique eyes like cats and reptiles.
Hybrids.
Neither human, nor animal. But something in-between.
In your town, coming across them is rare but not unheard of. They usually dwell in the cities, where sanctuaries housing them are. Some are adopted into families or are hired to do difficult and dirty work with an employer willing to work with them. But most aren’t as lucky, and are treated as sub-human. Worse than how some people care for their beloved cat or dog.
“What makes you say that?” you ask Kangdae as a bunny hybrid brings out the next course. She, like the other hybrids, is quite beautiful.
“Because you’re gorgeous,” he simply states as he sips on some liquor. Then, suddenly, he smacks the hybrid’s ass. “Hey, isn’t my girlfriend gorgeous?”
“Kangdae!”
“Yes, sir,” the hybrid quickly answers before practically running away from the table. You feel awful, but Kangdae cackles as if it’s the most entertaining thing he’s seen all evening.
“Babe, don’t be mad. She’s just a hybrid.”
One date turns into another. He showers you with expensive gifts, and takes you out to luxurious places. Sometimes, it’s nice. You never imagined you’d be leaning against the railing of a yacht, feeling the salt air against your skin as the boat cruises through deep blue waters. Or fine dining at rooftop restaurants in the big cities with a breathtaking view of the skylines.
You find yourself watching underground rap contests, and witnessing the skill and poetry of a particular contestant that caught your attention once. A tall boy with a thick pair of sunglasses and a dimpled smile.
Other times, it can feel overwhelming. Like you’re undeserving all the things that he bombards you with, and you owe it to him for one more date. One more party he wants you to come with him too. One more ‘this is the last time’ before he asks you again.
He introduces you to his friends, showing you off to them despite how out of place you feel among them. He texts and calls you all the time, wanting to know where you are and who you’re with, and letting you know that he’s thinking about you in persistent, long messages. He posts about you on his social media, calling you his girl, as engagements of likes, views, and comments fill underneath it.
People tell you all the time that you’re lucky though.
Of all the girls he could’ve been with, he picked you. Someone handsome, rich, and popular fell in love at first sight with a boring, quiet, lonely girl like you.
And maybe that’s why you stay. Who else would love you if not him?
Next week, you find yourself in the same, abandoned warehouse. Another night, another show. Another chance for Kangdae to redeem himself.
One thing about him is that he hates to lose. His pride just wouldn’t allow it.
Yet, once again, he doesn’t stand a chance.
This time, Rap Monster seems to be the crowd favorite. Everyone cheers for him once he steps onstage, wearing the same dark sunglasses over his eyes. He seems a bit more confident as he raps, his flow and rhythm even better than last week.
You feel like a fan as you and your group stand close to the stage. Although you’re supposed to be there for Kangdae, you can’t help but cheer his opponent on. Your heart jumps when you see Rap Monster catch your eye and give you a dimpled smile, bowing like a prince when he ends his round.
A shift can be felt once it’s Kangdae’s turn with the mic. People in your group and some of the audience make some noise, but the majority of strangers in the crowd are merely nodding along or quietly listening.
Until the first heckle comes. Followed by someone else yelling at him to get off the stage.
Mean laughter fills the room, and you almost feel bad for Kangdae.
Had it not been for what he does next.
Gasps and exclamations of shock are followed when he suddenly punches Rap Monster.
“Hey, no! You can’t do that shit!” the host yells as the security guards make haste to handle the situation. They pull Kangdae away, trying to de-escalate, but it’s too late. The crowd gets riled up, shouting and egging him on. Two men have to hold Kangdae down, but he’s strong. He nearly manages to break free and get to Rap Monster’s face a couple times. Rap Monster’s sunglasses are knocked off, and he’s holding his face with one hand, covering an eye.
Because when he opens the other one… it looks strange.
It doesn’t look human.
A couple people up front scream in terror as they point at him. “A monster!”
“He’s one of them!” another shouts in disgust. “He’s a hybrid!”
Suddenly, the room seems to quiet down as they all look at him, stunned, horrified, disgusted. You could see him trying to hide his face as the host snaps at him, “This event is for humans only!”
The sunglasses have fallen near you, and without thinking, you quickly grab them and climb onto the stage. You don’t know what’s gotten over you. You hate attention. You hate being in the spotlight. You’re often shy and insecure, and always stay in your lane.
But you have to help.
“Here,” you tell him gently, pushing the broken sunglasses toward his hand. Up this close, you feel so small standing next to him. “You should get out of here.”
He nods his head and takes them from you, seeming grateful and a little scared. His eyes look reptilian like a serpent, but they’re pretty. You feel like you can’t forget them.
In the innermost area of the iris, near his slightly vertical pupil, is a hint of warm brown, but the rest is a mix of deep blue and purple. The color of indigo.
“Get away from her, you beast,” Kangdae commands, but Rap Monster is already walking away from the stage. Away from you.
Somehow, the rain outside seems to pour harder as he leaves.
It’s been years since that night.
Kangdae seemed over it, wanting to chase his fifteen minutes of fame elsewhere. And while you were interested in one of the rappers, you aren’t keen enough to keep going back. It isn’t like that Rap Monster would be welcomed at the future showings anyway.
However, you start listening to hip-hop music more than other genres these days. Secretly hoping that, if you’re to meet him again, maybe the two of you could talk about some of the artists you like. Books that you’ve read, movies you’ve seen.
But you haven’t seen him since.
You end up working for Kangdae’s family. In such a small, provincial town, there isn’t much of an option. His family seems to own and have connections to everything.
To the point where even your family tells you how lucky you are. Kangdae is a catch. Marrying him would guarantee a well-off life with someone objectively handsome, who thinks you’re the most beautiful woman in town, who you’d be out of your mind to leave or break things off with.
Although your father and your siblings mean well, you could only nod in defeat. You can’t bear to tell them how miserable you are with Kangdae.
The same man who tells you you’re the one for him, but flirts with other women in front of you. Who gets angry over little things and takes it out on you, screaming at your face, throwing things that nearly hit you, punching holes in walls and doors, or leaving you confused and worried for days without a word until he finally decides to come back. He’d shower you with expensive gifts and affection to make up for it, but his sweeter side never stays long before the cycle repeats.
And you can’t seem to find your way out of it.
The constant pressure to be with Kangdae has you wishing you could just disappear from the town. To run away from it all and never go back.
But you’re a coward, and you don’t know where else to go. Everyone in town likes Kangdae, and even your family wouldn’t believe what a monster he really is.
In the apartment you share with him, it’s dark and empty. Empty bottles of soju and beer are on the coffee table, dirty dishes are in the sink for you to clean, there’s still a gaping hole in the pantry from an argument a couple weeks ago that hasn’t been fixed. But Kangdae’s shoes aren’t by the door, and you don’t imagine he’d be back anytime soon.
With a quiet, defeated sigh, you take off your shoes and your coat, place your purse down, and begin cleaning up the mess. You go through the motions of it, exhausted from work, from having more to do once you get home, and as you gather the bottles, you see that he’s placed some on top of a book.
A fairy tale story about a far-off place, daring sword fights, and a prince in disguise.
It’s your favorite. The local librarian gave it to you as a gift, and Kangdae is using it as a coaster. And one of the half-empty bottles has spilled over, soaking through the pages.
Angry, you drop the bag on the ground, letting the bottles clatter against each other, and pick up the book, trying to salvage the ruined cover. But rings of liquid stain the front, and the pages are wrinkled from the liquid, blurring the texts so they’re unreadable.
Even before, the book is already a bit worn-out when it was gifted to you, but it still makes you want to cry. Kangdae doesn’t seem to care about you at all anymore.
How much longer are you going to put up with this? Shouldn’t you deserve your own happiness? Shouldn’t you deserve to be loved?
You have to leave him. You don’t know when. You don’t know how. But you have to.
That much you know.
Your plans are foiled by a single question.
“Will you marry me?”
Horror strikes your face. Down on one knee before you is Kangdae with a beautiful diamond ring. You could feel every person in the room staring at you, waiting for an answer. All his friends, your family, and even random strangers at the venue are gathered unexpectedly and witnessing his proposal. Wide smiles and excited looks surround you, as if they already know you’ll say yes.
Do you want to say yes?
Are you going to tell him no? In front of all these people?
“Kangdae, I—” you start to say, your voice trembling. You could feel the pressure weighed upon you, setting you close to a panic.
Your boyfriend doesn’t notice how uncomfortable you are. He’s busy flashing a bright, charming smile at the anticipating crowd for his big moment. His smile starts to falter when you take too long to respond.
Behind the smile, you could almost sense it. The heat of his anger.
You have to say something. You have to decide.
You have to tell him no.
“I…” you begin again. Your gaze catches Kangdae’s family, and how they nod their head, encouraging you to continue. Your voice is very soft and almost defeated when you say, “Okay.”
“Yes? You’re saying yes?” Kangdae exclaims loudly as the people around cheer and clap. You even see some girls start to burst into tears. Girls you know Kangdae frequently talk to. Your family seems relieved, worried that you’d reject him, that you’d shame and humiliate them with your refusal.
But it’s when you look at Kangdae’s family where your blood runs cold. They whisper to each other and nod, gauging the reaction of those witnessing the proposal. It feels like they’re in a business merger, and it occurs to you that maybe, to them, it is one.
You feel numb as Kangdae pulls you into a kiss and a tight embrace.
You’re engaged now.
And it makes you want to throw up.
“Come on, don’t be like that,” Kangdae whines, trying to pull you closer to him. “Why are you upset? We’re engaged now!”
“Is it because you want to marry me? Or because your family made you?”
He scoffs. “What are you saying?”
It’s been years since the two of you have been together. Years of you being compliant, years of you arguing behind closed doors, of you silently suffering and hoping that things will get better. That, perhaps, one day you could convince yourself that he’ll change his ways. That he'll love you.
Perhaps in front of your family and friends, the two of you act like a happy couple.
You’re the girlfriend he brags about. Arm candy that he can show off because you’re the prettiest girl in town. Someone that his parents approve of, and often question when he’ll pop the question to you. A question, you suspect, puts his inheritance on the line if he hadn’t proposed so soon.
“Kangdae, do you even love me?”
Kangdae laughs. It’s a dark, biting chuckle that makes your skin crawl. “For a pretty girl, you sure say a lot of stupid shit. What kind of fucking question is that?”
Your mouth snaps shut. Until he snaps at you to answer him. “Kangdae, I…”
“Didn’t I propose to you? What more do you want, huh?”
“I’m sorry—”
“Don’t you realize how lucky you are to be with a guy like me? I spent so much money on you! I buy you nice things. I take you to beautiful places. I’ve helped you get a job at my parents’ company. I’ve bought you a home. And this is how you repay me?”
“Kangdae, please, just hear me out,” you plead, but the guilt and fear are already eating at you. It’s true that he’s provided you with so much. Are you being foolish? Ungrateful?
“Don’t forget, stupid bitch,” he threatens, his voice low as he grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks with his grip. “You will be my wife. You’re nothing without me. I will make your life a living hell. If you think this is the worst, then you’ve seen nothing yet.”
He storms out.
And as the door slams shut, you slowly sink to the floor, trembling as his words of a very bleak future run through your head. Crying in misery and frustration that you, once again, couldn’t stand up for yourself. That you still feel too scared to just leave him and all you know behind. That his anger and selfishness will continue to wear you down.
That, soon, you’ll be married to a monster.
It’s after a long day at work when you see Kangdae again. However, he isn’t alone.
“What’s going on? What is this?”
You frown at the sight before you. Kangdae is on the couch, and kneeling by his feet and wrapped in a ribbon is a young man.
No, a hybrid. A bunny hybrid.
He’s very muscular, with bruises and scratches covering his golden skin. His hair is dark, matching the long, black ears on his head. And his eyes are big, round, and full of fear as he stares back at you.
“Don’t you like him? Watched him in a fight last night. He’s pretty tough for a bunny, but lost in the final round. His owner was pissed! Nearly knocked him out himself!” Kangdae cackles with laughter, seeming to have found it amusing. "But babe, remember our first date? Remember those hybrid servers you kept staring at?”
“Yes,” you reply with a frown, not really sure what he’s getting at. What do they have to do with the bunny hybrid currently in your living room?
“I convinced the owner to let me borrow his hybrid for the night. As an apology gift,” he states with a proud smile. “Had to fork up a lot of money, but the guy wasn’t too pleased about his prized fighter losing the match anyway.”
“I-I’m not… he’s…” You’re at a loss of words. How could he explain this to you so casually?
“I wanted to make it up to you, babe. Girls dig shit like this, right? Owner kept bragging on and on about how obedient he is and how much stamina he has.” Kangdae can see you’re not into the idea and comes up to you, touching your arm. “I don’t mind. I’d love to watch. Hell, I might even invite the girls over to give him a try.”
“Stop. You’re disgusting.”
How could he think you’d be okay with this? How could anyone?
Hybrids often get treated like pets, but they’re still human.
“Ungrateful cunt. Can't you see I’m trying to do something nice for you?!” Kangdae roars, and you feel the sting on your face before it registers what happened. He just slapped you.
You’re still in shock and a bit of pain as he grabs his car keys and a jacket. You cradle your cheek as you numbly ask, “Where are you going?”
“I’m going for a drink. Don’t wait up for me.” He slams the door on his way out. You blink back the tears as a deafening silence follows the roar of his engine, the squeals of his tires as he takes off.
Is this all your fault again? Are you being ungrateful?
No, no. Kangdae is the one taking things too far. And you’re so fed up with it.
You've always been afraid to speak up for yourself. You’ve always been a coward, and wanted to play things safe. You’ve always let him walk all over you. You could never save yourself from such a miserable situation.
You’re so preoccupied with your thoughts, you almost forgot you aren’t alone. The sound of rustling catches your attention, and you see the bunny hybrid trying to unravel himself from the ribbon binding him.
“I can help you,” you offer, and he flinches at your voice. You soften your tone and try again. “Would you let me? I promise, I won’t hurt you.”
He thinks about it for a moment, glancing at you with suspicion and weariness. But he nods his head. Despite how bruised up he is, he probably figures he could overpower you if you really intended to harm him.
The two of you are silent as you untie the long ribbon from his wrists and slip it off his torso. But being this close to him also gives you a good view on all the cuts and sores he received from the fight.
Your heart sinks for him. Not only is it highly illegal, but this one is a prey. They’re not supposed to fight in the first place.
“Wait here,” you tell him once he’s free from the bondage. He rubs his wrist, but continues to sit on the floor. Nothing is really stopping him from leaving on his own, so you hurry to find a first-aid kit.
When you return to the living room, the bunny hybrid is still there. He hasn’t moved an inch from his spot. He eyes the little box in your hands, seeming to recognize it.
“I think this should help with some of your wounds. Is it okay if I help you with this too?”
This time, he nods his head more eagerly.
Again, a silence falls between you two. But it isn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it’s been a while since you’ve been in the presence of someone else and the silence felt natural. Every now and then, you’d give him a head’s up about the sting of a topical spray or ask him if the bandage you’re wrapping around him is too tight. And he watches you the whole time, nodding and shaking his head when prompted, seeming used to this. You wonder how often he has to treat his own wounds after being thrown in battle.
The silence is cut when his stomach growls loudly. He looks incredibly embarrassed as you offer a small smile. “I have some food in the fridge if you’re hungry. Let me just finish doing this.”
It doesn’t take too much time at all to treat his wounds and wrap fresh bandages on his injuries. You’ve only encountered hybrids a couple times, so you’re not entirely sure what he’d like to eat. You assume fruits and vegetables, but would that be enough?
You start to pull them out and you’re startled when you see the hybrid standing over your shoulder. You see him eyeing a jar of kimchi and take that out as well.
“Does kimchi fried rice sound good to you?” you ask him, and he nods his head more excitedly. His eyes look brighter too, as if you guessed exactly what he’s craving.
Endeared, you begin to get to work. You pull out the leftover rice, sauces, and the ingredients needed to cook it. The hybrid watches as you chop the vegetables and first cook out the onions before adding in the other vegetables and rice. In another pan, you fry a couple eggs to serve over the rice, and sprinkle some toppings of sesame seeds, nori, and sliced green onion. You ransack your fridge for some side dishes you could pair it with, serving some yellow pickled radishes, pickled cucumbers, and seaweed salad in small bowls.
The hybrid watches with big, round eyes and a jittering leg as you set the food before him. You tell him to eat and you barely take a bite of your own dish before he picks up his bowl and devours it like he hasn’t eaten in days. His brows are furrowed and he starts huffing, but he’s quick to grab the side dish closest to him and cleans that as well.
“Is it good?” you ask him tentatively.
He gives a brief nod, mouth too full to answer, and fills his bowl with seconds.
“I’m glad. I would’ve made more if I had known you’d be this hungry,” you tell him, heart full just seeing him eat well.
You can’t help but feel sorry for him. You can’t imagine what he’s been through, and you don’t want him to be sent back to his owner. You don’t want him to be put in another dangerous and exploiting situation.
“I’m sorry about him. That guy that was here earlier,” you begin. You’ve barely eaten, but you push your share toward him. “He’s not a nice person.”
The bowl he takes from you covers his face, but his ears twitch toward you. They show that he’s listening to you.
“Your owner isn’t a nice person either, huh?”
The hybrid freezes at the mention of his owner. He lowers the bowl a little and he looks terrified. For the first time, he speaks to you. His word is barely a whisper. “Don’t…”
This time, your eyes widen. “What?”
“Please…” he begs, putting the bowl down. Grains of rice stick around his mouth as he looks at you with pleading eyes. “Please don’t let me go back to him. Please help me.”
Thank you for reading ♡
Comments & reviews are greatly appreciated!
Masterlist | Next
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more of that one garfield meme here
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“ I love you. Most ardently.”
Pride and Prejudice (2005)
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Never Say Goodbye - Bonus Track #3
Pairing: Dean x Female Reader
Summary: The first time you and Dean sensed each other’s thoughts and feelings, you were just kids. It would take years to realize that you both were bonded for life, and even longer to finally meet. [Soulmate AU] (18+)
AN: Aaand Part 3! I’ve so enjoyed this series.
Word Count: 2,500
Tags/Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, cavity-inducing fluff
Bonus Track #3: To Be Loved
Sam and Eileen stayed with Bobby while Dean brought you home.
Jack had been blowing up his phone all day, and Dean knew he’d have to have to fill in your dad eventually. But right now, all he could think about was taking care of you.
You were quiet the entire car ride home. Your thoughts were a mess, and Dean could only glean so much. But he accompanied you into the bathroom while you showered, just to make sure you were all right.
After you were dressed in soft pajamas, you finally spoke.
“We should call my dad, let him know what…what happened,” you said. You tried to find your cell phone. You looked all over the apartment, but frowned when you realized you had no idea where your purse was.
Dean approached and calmed your shaking hands, grounding you with his firm, but gentle touch.
“Hey, take a breath, okay?” He guided you to sit down on the couch in the living room.
“I remember…being at work,” you said with difficulty. “I touched that damn book.”
Dean nodded grimly. “It’s burnt to a crisp.”
You sighed. “What the hell am I going to tell Jerry?”
“I told him you were mugged, and the book got stolen in the process,” he said.
You raised a brow.
“And he bought that?” you asked incredulously.
“He seemed to,” Dean said. “You might have to smooth things over, but for now, you can just chill here at home, okay? You don’t have to go anywhere, talk to anyone, until you’re up to it.”
He settled you on the couch with your favorite throw blanket.
“You hungry?” he asked. “I can make us something…or better yet, let’s order in. What do you feel like?”
You were too preoccupied to answer. Dean sighed and sat down beside you on the couch. He could tell that your mind was racing, but he couldn’t pinpoint more than a few stray thoughts. You bit your lip and looked up at him with tears in your eyes.
“She killed all those people…using me,” you choked out. “And I can’t even remember most of it…”
“We destroyed the tapes,” Dean said. Though he knew that wasn’t what you were getting at. “There’s an active investigation, but she mainly used magic. If there’s any fingerprints, your dad will take care of it.”
You gripped your head with both hands in dismay.
“He shouldn’t have to break the law for me. This is insane…”
Dean scooted over so he could hold you, rubbing your back while you dissolved into tears. It all but broke his heart.
Deciding you might be more comfortable in bed, he picked you up bridal style. You continued to keep your face covered as he carried you to bed.
Dean then settled in himself, but you surprised him a bit by turning to him. You moved over to his side of the bed and buried your face into his neck. He wrapped his arms around you, shushing you gently and soothing a warm hand up and down your back.
I can’t stand it, Dean, you whispered in his mind through the bond. So many people died because of me, in a single day.
It’s not your fault, he replied. Someone would’ve touched the book eventually.
You just don’t know that.
“What I know is you’re alive. And I'm damn grateful,” Dean said out loud, soft in your ear.
You sucked in a breath at that. You pulled away, just enough to see his face. Despite the tears clinging to your lashes, making your eyes red and puffy, you still looked beautiful to him.
Because he recognized you—the size and strength of your heart. You were crying for people you hadn’t known, over something you had no control over, and had only vague memories of. But he knew you still felt responsible for their deaths, just as Dean would have, if he were in your shoes.
“I’m grateful for you,” you replied, sniffling and stroking his cheek. “I’m so sorry for all this.”
Dean shook his head and pressed a kiss to your forehead, followed closely by your lips.
The next day, Dean woke you with a kiss above your brow.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” he said. He sat down the edge of the bed, already dressed in his usual jeans, undershirt and opened buttoned down ensemble.
You smiled, until you spied the alarm clock on the nightstand and realized how late it was.
“I talked to Jerry, called you out of work on official police business,” he said, guessing at your thoughts. “Need your help tracking down the ‘mugger.’”
You gave a soft huff at that. “I don’t think that coverup is going to stick.”
Dean’s shrug was deceptive; he had already broken things down with Jack this morning, in painstaking detail, so that the murders of ten people likely wouldn’t be traced back to you. Jerry was, quite frankly, the least of his worries.
“It’s gonna be fine. I’ve got it all worked out,” he told you. “But are you hungry? Want some eggs, pancakes, bacon, or all three? Breakfast of champions.”
He rubbed his palms together with a grin, one you tried to match, despite being sleepy. Really, you still felt like total crap. But you appreciated the way he was trying to lift your spirits.
“Whatever you want, baby,” you said, grabbing his hand, the one that held his mother’s ring. He looked down at you with a softer smile. He brought your hand up to his lips.
“All right, beautiful. Breakfast of champions it is,” he said. You were able to smile a bit more as you watched him leave the bedroom.
Getting up was a monumental effort, but you made yourself do it, or you knew you would spend the entire day lying in bed and feeling sorry for yourself.
Your guilt was still eating at you. You knew you could only try to move forward, like Sam and Dean used to have to do after a rough hunt. You tried to focus on one task, and the next, until you were dressed, freshened up, and sitting down across from Dean in the dining room, eating breakfast.
But he picked up on the predictable course of your thoughts, most of them following the path of self-loathing. He took your hand across the table, which prompted you to look up at him from your eggs.
“You didn’t know the book was cursed,” he said. “Just because I’m retired from hunting, doesn’t mean this shit isn’t still out there.”
A fact that elicited his own guilt.
That he got to have his normal life while other hunters scraped and struggled and died. You sensed his thoughts, and it broke you out of your own inner world. You squeezed his hand, feeling tears well up in your eyes.
“You’ve earned this, Dean,” you said. “You’re finally living your life for you.”
He considered your hand in his. “That doesn’t make me selfish?”
“You deserve to be happy…even if I’ve been making that part difficult.” You wiped away the first couple of tears that broke down your cheeks when you remembered how angry you had been at him a few days ago. How selfish. “The fight we had, before all this started…”
Dean leaned over and brushed a lock of hair away from your eyes, along with a stray tear from your cheek.
“Listen, whatever we were arguing about, it’s petty shit. Let’s just move on, okay?”
“It’s not petty,” you replied with a sniff. “You were right…about Jason. I shouldn’t have been out all night at his place.”
Dean was uncomfortably silent then, even though a part of him felt vindicated, deep down. It did also feel stupid now.
“Look, I trust you,” he said.
“I know. But it’s still not fair to you,” you said with a sigh. “I know between my job, the wedding planning, and everything else, it doesn’t feel like we’ve actually been together for the past few months. I don’t want us to feel like that before, or after we get married.”
Dean folded his hands on the table. “Okay. So what do we do?”
You raised a brow at him. A teasing smile worked its way onto your face.
“You’re letting me call the shots?” you asked.
Dean noted that smile, spying a glimpse of your old self.
“Well, you generally do what you want anyway. So I figured I’d just tag along,” he remarked.
You pushed at his chest. “You’re not getting off that easily.”
He grabbed that hand and held it. And he kissed the inside of your palm, then down your wrist. It was tender, languid, and sweet. Until the heat in his eyes made you blush, earning a smile from you.
“Come ‘ere,” he said.
He tugged you over by your hand, and you got up, willingly being guided into his lap. Your free hand delved into his hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp. He gave a pleased hum and tugged you down into a kiss. The heat of it made your toes curl as his hands molded to the curve of your ass.
You held his face, pressing lingering kisses against his lips, along his jawline, down his neck…
Desire coursed through both of you, echoing through the soul bond in perfect symmetry.
“I need you,” you whispered in his ear.
Dean grinned against your neck. He slid an arm beneath your legs and around your back, and lifted you into the air, eliciting a squeal from you as he made a quick path to the bedroom.
Three weeks later…
“Hun, you need to calm down,” Jo told you. She was stifling her laughter as she fixed the lay of your wedding gown.
It was ten more minutes of waiting.
Ten more minutes, and you wouldn’t have your last name anymore. You would be a Winchester.
Sweet Jesus, you were about to be an honest-to-God wife.
“I need ice,” you said, trying to air out your underarms. “Someone blot me. I’m sweating like a whore in church.”
Jo resisted the urge to remind you that you were in a church. Or at least, in the women’s dressing room.
“You’re gonna be fine,” Eileen said in amusement. You made sure to turn to her when you replied, so she could read your lips.
“I feel bloated.” You grimaced, rubbing your chest as if that would quell your sudden anxiety. Or was it Dean’s? You couldn’t tell anymore.
“Or possibly heartburn. Maybe the breakfast burrito wasn’t a good idea.”
“What’s to be nervous about? He faced down a literal goddess for you,” Eileen replied with a smile. You gave a wry smile, even if that was a somewhat painful reminder.
“I know. And no matter the words, it’s just not enough to describe how much I love him. But it’s just…” you took in a deep breath. “What if I’m stopping him from being who he’s supposed to be, you know?”
Both women had to know what you meant. They were still hunters. Eileen and Jo shared a glance, but it was Eileen who touched your hand.
“When I met Sam, I thought I had my life figured out. I was on my way out of New York. I never meant to stay, let alone for six months,” she said.
And you knew this story, but it still warmed your heart to hear it again.
“We’re still figuring it out,” Eileen admitted. “But I see you and Dean, and it gives me hope. It makes me think I can still be myself without hunting…maybe even a better version.”
You teared up, like the emotional wreck you were, but Eileen and Jo immediately went to blot it away from your mascara.
You didn’t know that Dean was having a similar meltdown.
“Dude, quit fidgeting. You’re gonna be fine,” Sam said in amusement. He was fixing Dean’s cuffs, then the burgundy carnation pinned to his breast pocket.
“I don’t know if this monkey suit is fitting right,” Dean groused.
“It is,” Sam informed him.
“Does it really need to be a flower,” Dean gestured at the pocket Sam was adjusting, along with the satin pocket square.
“It does,” Sam once again informed him.
“I don’t know why. It’s not a fucking prom,” Dean muttered.
Sam resisted the urge to laugh at his brother’s evident nervousness. “All right, just calm down.”
A knock sounded at the door to the men’s dressing room. In came Jack, popping his head in and asking if it was a good time.
“Perfect time,” Sam said, straightening his brother’s tie. “I’m going to check in with the ladies, see if they’re ready.”
Dean nodded, though his anxiousness grew to see him leave. Still, he welcomed Jack in to take a seat across from him on a wooden stool. Jack obliged, but first, he pulled out a flask from the inner pocket of his blazer.
Dean raised a brow. “Whiskey?”
“You gotta ask?” Jack said. Dean grinned and took the flask, and then a sip.
“The day I married my wife, I was much like you. Shittin’ my pants,” Jack said with a wry chuckle. Dean looked down, both embarrassed and amused.
“For me it was questions. So many questions,” Jack continued. “The world’s telling me this is it. This is the girl. But what does that mean…practically?”
Dean could relate to that.
“You know what I found out?” Jack asked.
Dean looked up at him. “What?”
“The bond…it matters, but it doesn’t always make things easier either,” Jack said. “It just gives you a reason to be honest. To have someone you can be fully yourself with, no matter the repercussions. Someone who can be your true support system.”
“That sounds about right,” Dean said after a moment. Jack leaned across the divide to pat his shoulder.
“After her mother died, I worried about my daughter every day,” he said, with some deeper emotion shining through his eyes. “I didn’t realize that she came up strong, stubborn, with her own ideas about the world and what she wanted from it.”
Dean nodded. That definitely sounded like you.
“We didn’t have the best start, you and I. But I see how you look after my girl. How you support each other,” he said. “I’m proud of you, son. Proud to call you that too.”
Dean’s throat constricted with unexpected emotion. On days like today, he really wished his dad could’ve lived to see this.
But Dean was grateful to shake his father-in-law’s hand.
“Thank you, sir.”
Dean stood alone at the altar inside the church sanctuary. But he wouldn’t be alone for long.
Five minutes.
His gaze roamed, finding Bobby and Ellen in the first row. The latter was already teared up, smiling with almost motherly pride. Even Bobby shot him a wink and a smile.
Dean smiled back at them and took in a steadying breath. There was Jody Mills and her husband, some of your friends from work, and from school. There were other friends of his from the precinct.
Then he noticed someone in the back—a lanky kid with shaggy brown hair and an attitude. Dean grinned when Jessie Deluca met him with a lazy salute.
He’d been dropping by the precinct lately. Dean had taken him out a few times for burgers and pizza and light conversation.
You had even suggested that Bobby give him a part-time job after school, at the tow yard, and a safe place to stay when he needed it. So far, Jessie hadn’t taken Bobby up on that offer. Dean was working on it.
But the fact that he’d accepted Dean’s offhand invitation to his wedding spoke volumes. He sent the kid a little salute back, along with his grin.
And then the music started. A hush drew over the crowd, and even Jessie took a seat in one of the pews. The double doors opened in the back, and down the aisle came Sam and Eileen. She looked beautiful in her wine-red dress. Sam was tall and dapper in his light gray suit, contrasting Dean’s darker one.
Jo was next, being escorted by one of your buddies from college, then your cousin Lily and her boyfriend. And finally, your father walked you down the aisle.
Dean sucked in a subtle breath. He’d never seen the dress, of course, but it was beautiful. You were beautiful.
The moment you reached out and took his hand, he could breathe again.
And he knew then that he was ready…because this felt right.
He later showed you the ring before he slipped it on your finger — engraved with an anti-possession star. You smiled up at him wryly.
But then your smile became more genuine, more lovely. Your eyes shone bright with unshed tears.
You held nothing back from the soul bond, and so Dean got a full picture of what it was to be loved.
His eyes burned too. He hoped you were able to read his WiFi signals right back. Because just now, he wasn’t sure if his voice was going to cooperate with him.
The simple fact of it was, you were his girl. His person.
And that was something that couldn’t be broken.
AN: I hope you enjoyed this more official epilogue to Never Say Goodbye! ❤️
It’s been so much fun to write this story. But let me know if there are any requests in this story-verse! I’d be happy to come back to it someday. 🥹
Keep Reading:
Ready for another bonus one-shot?
Read on: The Old-Fashioned Way
You and Dean are having trouble trying to start a family. What happens when you turn to a spell for a possible solution?
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I want a soft connection. I want to be asked how my day went and if I need anything. I want forehead kisses. I want the back of my hand kissed at red lights. I want to be asked how I’m mentally feeling. I want to hold hands everywhere we go.
#want to be loved#forehead kisses#hold hands#lovers#romantic academia#love#to be loved#poetry#art#two of us#literature#dark academia#music#vintage aesthetic#writersclub#late night#desires#romanticizing life#academia#tumblog#tumblr#dead poetry
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To Be Loved
Notes/warnings: I don't have time to write anything that anyone probably wants to read right now. Here is the song I've been listening to on repeat for the last week and a half. Angsty themes are present.
She nodded and looked up at him. “Please don’t leave me,” she begged so brokenly. “I know that’s terrible of me to ask you—”
“I will never leave you, m’love,” he said simply. She nodded, her eyes welling with tears again. Harry brushed them from her cheeks as they fell and she didn’t speak again. He pressed his forehead to hers. “You’re mine,” he said simply.
Last night / confidence was shaken / my wounds, and my past was saying “no one should ever love me like you do”
Harry walked into their shared apartment prepared to argue. It was how every single night began when he came home late from work. He didn’t like working late. Of course, he didn’t. He would much rather be home with the sweet love he adored so much. He wanted to shower her with love and affection.
But there were bills to pay and they didn’t have that kind of time to lounge around like some of their other friends who didn’t need to work as many hours as they did to afford the lavish lives they lived. Harry loved his career; it was endlessly rewarding to work with kids and adults alike to put families together and mend broken homes...but he wished it paid more. She wished the same of her own job; “do it for the outcome not the income” was a mantra in schools and her very own mantra as well.
They simply wanted time for one another. She couldn’t pick up extra hours like Harry could. So, he did the extra working, and she did the household chores and care. It was exhausting on both fronts, and it was rare she would be awake when Harry arrived home—drained from school and then chores.
Harry would be drained too, hopeful that maybe they could watch a show together or enjoy a meal together. It had been weeks since that had happened on a weeknight. It was hard to live as if they only existed together on the weekends.
That was the cause of the argument the previous night. It left for a silent day—no text messages, no voice messages, no tagging each other in funny pictures on social media. So, Harry was ready for another round of arguing. He was sure it would happen.
But instead, she was sitting there on the couch waiting expectantly, looking toward the door. “Hi,” she said so softly it barely reached Harry’s ears.
“Y’okay, kitten?” He asked softly at the sound of her gentle voice. The need to argue dissipated. She was all that mattered. He stood by the door afraid to really move beyond the entry way. He kicked his shoes off as she nodded.
“Yeah,” she swallowed. “Just...missed you,” she whispered brokenly and looked away from the door where Harry stood. “M’sorry,” she sniffled.
“Whoa, hey,” he said hurriedly and dropped his bag. He noted the folders spilling out of the bag and spread about the floor, but they didn’t matter at that moment. “Kitten,” he said and crouched in front of the sofa. He put his hands on her cheeks and brushed his thumbs along the tears that began to roll down her face. “Hey,” he repeated and brushed his thumb on her lower lip. “S’matter, m’love?” He asked.
She took a shaky breath in. “I thought you weren’t going to come home,” she croaked. “I worried all day.”
“Oh, baby,” he frowned. “M’sorry. Why didn’t you...” he stopped his own question. He knew why she didn’t text him or call him. He didn’t call or text her for the very same reason: they were both stubborn and the argument from the night before tainted everything.
“Then why don’t you just leave?!” She shouted. Harry felt his heart ice over and he stopped yelling about how she was always sleepy. How it sucked being trapped in this cycle of not seeing each other because it was so expensive to be alive. The idea of leaving her never crossed his mind. He never really understood why they argued. It seemed futile. It didn’t seem like anything would resolve the issues. It was just time. Time was needed for their positions to move up. She was finishing her second degree that would give her a bigger pay boost. Harry wouldn’t have to work long hours forever. She could get a second part time job or tutor. She had lots of time off due to school vacations. Harry wouldn’t be stuck doing the grunt work for the rest of his career.
But to hear her asking him to leave made him break. He stayed silent. He stared at her for a prolonged moment. Didn’t say a word. She was taking heaving breaths. Harry simply walked away, closed the door to their bedroom and went to bed.
“Kitten,” he cooed. “Baby, I...” he shook his head. “I can’t leave you. I don’t want t’leave you. Could never...” he promised and she sniffled, her breath catching in her throat as she inhaled shakily again.
“M’sor—”
“Baby, s’okay,” he promised bringing her toward him. “M’sorry, too. Behaved like a proper arse,” he murmured into her hair. She shrugged against him.
“M’always tired,” she reminded him. “I never see you,” she whimpered. He shook his head still.
“You’re always busy, kitten,” he said knowingly. “S’not your fault. I shouldn’t have gotten s’mad. I jus’ miss you, too.”
She nodded and looked up at him. “Please don’t leave me,” she begged so brokenly. “I know that’s terrible of me to ask you—”
“I will never leave you, m’love,” he said simply. She nodded, her eyes welling with tears again. Harry brushed them from her cheeks as they fell and she didn’t speak again. He pressed his forehead to hers. “You’re mine,” he said simply.
No one should ever love me like you do / While I’m on this road, you take my hand / somehow, you really love who I really am / I push you away / still you won’t let go / you grow your roses on my barren soul
Harry’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. Just another thing that went wrong. The stupid piece of metal not turning over made him want to scream. “Harry,” she said gently.
“Kitten,” he shook his head. “Don’t,” he muttered bitterly.
She pressed her lips together nervously. He got out of the car after popping the hood and fiddled with a few pieces not fully sure of what he was doing but figured it couldn’t hurt. He swore and smacked the hood shut and pounded his fist against it angrily.
She hurried out of the car and came to his side. She reached for his arm and he shrugged her off. “Hey,” she said softly.
“Kitten, this is—”
“Hey,” she repeated. “Stop,” she said and forcefully grabbed his hands in hers. He felt himself melting almost instantly at her touch. He leaned against the front of the dead car on the silent road. “S’okay.”
“It’s your birthday,” he muttered.
She shrugged. “I just wanted to be with you,” she reminded him. She wedged herself between his knees and leaned toward him. “You’re the best gift of all,” she promised.
He thought about how much the repair would cost. How much time would have to be spent away from her to take care of the cost. How much time and money he couldn’t save for a ring that deserved to be on her finger.
And all she could think about was him.
“Why d’you even love me?” He muttered.
“I think you hypnotized me,” she joked. He didn’t even crack a smile. He felt miserable. If this was anyone else, they would have high tailed it out of here long ago. He had seen it before. “Hey,” she whispered.
“If y’were smart you’d leave me,” he mumbled. She brought her face so close to his and peered upwards to his withdrawn and defeated face. She smiled.
“Good thing I’m stupid, then,” she smirked again.
He rolled his eyes. “You really love me? Poor, broke, dead car and all?”
“And more,” she promised.
Harry felt the warmth of her words spread through his body. When they had spent a rare Sunday in bed staring at each other and enjoying their presence together in the quiet, chilly morning she said his fingertips spread warmth through her that it felt like how she imagined wildflowers grew in places that didn’t deserve growth. He didn’t understand a thing about her imagination. Didn’t know how wildflowers could grow where they didn’t belong.
His hands moved to her hips and pulled her closer to him between his legs. “I think I just fell more in love with you.”
“Surely there’s not much “more” left,” she smirked.
“You keep surprising me too,” he said, finally smiling.
“I’m so in love with you, Harry Styles.”
But when she loved him anyway, he thought maybe wildflowers could grow where they didn't belong—like in every inch of Harry’s broken and tired soul.
The way I push you through it / what you had to see / I’m a trainwreck / I’m a mess / you see the best and the worst of me / still I can’t imagine that I’ve earned your trust / I don’t understand where your love comes from
Like most things they did, it was just the two of them. She wore a stunning dress that didn’t trail behind her but anyone that looked at her would surely follow her with their gaze until she was physically not in view. With her hair pulled into a stylistic crown around a river of curls she looked like a picture out of Harry’s history textbook from university. She resembled a Greek goddess. Harry couldn’t stop staring at her even if he wanted to. Handsome as always she felt like the first time she laid eyes on Harry back in college. Effortlessly good-looking. His hair, his eyes, his smile, his tall frame all overwhelmed her senses in the best possible way. She couldn’t look away from him then and she couldn’t look away from him now.
They stood together in front of the town clerk, hand in hand. They were quiet and he watched her bite her pretty lip out of the corner of his eye. He squeezed her hand pulling her from her thoughts. Turning to look at him, she tilted her head curiously. He smiled so gently it crushed her. His cute dimple piercing his cheek and subsequently her heart.
When Styles was called Harry winked at her. “Last chance,” he said softly squeezing just below the fake diamond she picked out at Pandora on her left finger.
She shook her head at him with an eye roll. “I’d like to see you try.”
He chuckled. “No way, kitten,” he promised, and he watched her cheeks pink with the words he spoke. She was so, so stunning.
They gazed at each other while the clerk went through the legalities of the union. “Do you want to exchange vows?” He asked.
She glanced at Harry nervously. “I don’t...” She shook her head. “I don’t have anything prepared...I don’t—"
“I’m a mess, kitten,” Harry began, overtaken with how much he loved her and how this didn’t matter at all. He just wanted her to be all his forever and ever binding and legally. “You love me anyway. I promise I’ll love you forever. Loving you has been the easiest thing I’ve ever done. Through all the bad and all the good. I’m so very grateful to have you.”
She blinked and Harry watched the tears fill her vision. He brought his hand to her cheek and hovered his thumb over her lash line waiting for the tears to fall. “If you’re a mess, I’m a trainwreck,” she whispered. He smiled and shook his head. “I love you so much,” she promised. “I always will. I trust you with my entire life and that’s not an easy thing for me to do. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. If I could, I would marry you every single day for the rest of my life and nothing else.”
Harry swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. He could feel his eyes stinging with his own tears imagining her in thousands and thousands of dresses getting married all over again every single day. The idea made his heart thud loudly in his chest. “No one has ever loved me like you do,” he said.
“I don’t know how you love me so much,” she smiled so sweetly.
He sniffled and nodded blinking back the tears. “I really do,” he promised. “I don’t know how you put up with me.”
“S’the easiest thing I’ve ever done,” she answered.
“I love you.”
“I love you.”
He pulled her toward him so he could press a kiss to her forehead. “I think we’re ready now,” he murmured to the clerk with a smile.
He smirked at Harry and nodded. He turned to the sweet girl first. “Do you take Harry to be your husband?”
“I do. Forever and ever.”
Harry couldn’t tear his gaze from her for a second. He remembered saying “I do,” as well, but it was overshadowed by their first kiss as husband and wife.
*
There was no party, no family, no presents.
There was some champagne—the good kind. They fed each other cupcakes she had made the night before and he licked the frosting from her lips as he kissed her over and over on their old couch in their apartment. He couldn’t stop looking at her.
She took his tie off and loosened his collar. Her gaze didn’t break from him for a second and she forwent her heels and snuggled against him in the couch cushions in her fancy dress. He pulled some bobby pins from her hair, releasing the trapped curls and up-do so she breathed a sigh of relief.
He kissed her so deeply she could feel it in her toes. When her tongue brushed against his lip teasingly, he felt the heat of her love from it pore through his body and reach every inch of his veins. It warmed him from the tip of his toes to the roots of his hair.
They put on a show that they didn’t watch. Instead, they stared into each other’s eyes not saying a word. They fell asleep on the couch in their wedding clothes. And that was it.
#harry#harry styles#harry styles writing#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#harry styles blurb#harry styles imagine#harry styles imagines#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fic#hs#hs fic#harry styles smut#harry styles blurbs#needtobreathe#to be loved
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"to be loved by a writer is to never die; to wrong a writer is to live in hell in every universe they create!”
#calligraphy practice#to be loved#writers on tumblr#calligraphy#inked#spilled ink#writeblr#my calligraphy
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To Be Loved - 05
Tale as old as time
⤑ pairing: namjoon x reader
⤑ genre: hybrid au, romance, hurt/comfort
⤑ rating: 18+
⤑ word count: 7.7k
⤑ warnings: our favorite asshole, kangdae, is in this chapter SO: violence, threats against reader and the tannies, verbal/emotional abuse, detailed descriptions of fighting and gore, some angst, minor character deaths
⤑ note: and with this, to be love is concluded! thank you everyone for reading and for all the love this story has received. i hope this last chapter meets your expectations. and lol, did you guys guess correctly on what kind of hybrid namjoon is?
Chapters 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 (End)
It was a clear and starry night.
The giddiness between you and the hybrids as the evening’s plans come together. A look of awe on your face when you see yourself in the mirror, dressed in a yellow ball gown, and think to yourself how you’ve never been more beautiful. Sparkling lights from the crystal chandeliers glow and romantic music softly plays in the background as Namjoon dances with you, and the way he looks at you tonight with such endeared warmth, you could only describe it as love.
Everything was perfect. A calm before the storm.
Ruined in the matter of seconds.
The shot that was fired was aimed at the ground, near Seokjin’s paws. A warning to you and the hybrids that they’re armed and not afraid to use their weapons. The wolf hybrid shifts into his human form, but his ears are pinned back against his head and his tail is between his legs as he backs away, startled but luckily unharmed. You stand between them and the group of vile men before you, including the man you’re supposed to marry.
“So, this is where you’ve been hiding.” Kangdae takes one look at you and bursts into mocking laughter. “What the hell are you wearing, babe? That’s not sexy at all!”
You feel your cheeks burn with humiliation. “What do you want, Kangdae? How did you even find me?”
“You were a pain in the ass to track down,” he mutters, shaking his head. “The whole town was worried about you, babe. My folks got everyone searching. Someone found your car in these woods, thought you were good as dead. And yet, here you are, gallivanting with these … abominations.”
“Shut up! Don’t talk to us like that!” Seokjin snaps. Two of Kangdae’s lackeys point their guns at him, ready to fire.
“Easy, pup. I’m having a conversation with my stupid woman.” He doesn’t divert his gaze away as he stares you down. A growl rumbles from Seokjin’s throat, but you step in front of him, shielding him and the other hybrids.
“Tell them to put the guns down,” you order tersely, trying not to look as frightened as you feel when you see the ends of the barrels being pointed at the hybrids. “I don’t want anything to do with you anymore, Kangdae. Just leave us alone.”
“Babe, I’m just here to talk. That’s all.” He raises his hands up and cracks a smile as if he has no intentions of hurting you. It feels condescending. “Just hear me out, and we’ll pretend we never saw them.”
“Whatever you have to say to her, you can say in front of us,” Namjoon speaks up as he stands by your side. The hand he presses against the small of your back gives you the tiniest bit of comfort, even if you feel it trembling with rage.
“I don’t think so, beast,” he quips, finally turning his gaze away from you to look at Namjoon. If he recognizes him, it doesn’t show on Kangdae’s face. He does, however, look intrigued with how close Namjoon stands to you. How protective he is over you. When Kangdae looks at you again, his smile is gone. “You and I talk. Alone. And no one gets hurt.”
Guns cock and more are aimed at the hybrids. Kangdae begins to count down.
“Okay! Okay!” you give in before the next number leaves his lips. You give Namjoon an apologetic look. It feels like this is all your fault. If you hadn’t stayed this long, if you had left when you were supposed to, maybe they’d never find this place.
The smug smirk dances on Kangdae’s lips again as he meets Namjoon’s gaze. It’s like that dark and stormy night all those years ago, when the two of them stood against each other on the stage. The arrogance that Kangdae had that day hasn’t diminished at all. In fact, it’s gotten even worse as he grabs your arm and yanks you closer to him, childishly possessive like you’re a pretty doll that Namjoon can’t have.
The hybrid’s rage is silent, but he clenches his jaw and scowls as he watches Kangdae pull you away, out of ear-shot for even the hybrids to eavesdrop. You look over your shoulder at him, helpless, scared. Not because of him, but of the human that has you in his grasp. The indigo in Namjoon’s eyes darkens and looks sharper, the black pupils thinner like slits. The air around his mouth as he exhales becomes visible like smoke.
You’ve never seen Namjoon look so angry.
When you and Kangdae are far enough, he eyes you again and gives you a sleazy smirk. “You know, for an old dress, it makes your tits look nice.”
“What do you want, Kangdae?” you repeat, exasperated, stepping away from him before he could think of touching you.
“To take you home, of course. My folks planned a nice ceremony for us, you know?” He moves closer to you, until your back hits the trunk of a tree. Then, he cages you in with his arms. Objectively, Kangdae is good-looking, especially up close like this, but his beauty is only skin-deep. All you see before you is a monster. “Then, you pulled your little stunt. So, what the fuck happened? Did you want to rebel? Did you think you’d get away? You’re usually so quiet and obedient.”
“Stop.” You pull Kangdae’s arms as he squeezes your cheeks together.
“Stop,” he repeats in a whine, mocking you again. “It was never supposed to be serious between us. You were the prettiest girl in school. We looked so good together, but all you do is read and stay home. You can’t even talk to people without getting nervous. So, I thought maybe you’re just the girl I can bring home to my parents. Someone that makes me look good during social events and family parties. So that people can get off my fucking back about the actual fun girls I date. But it turns out, my folks really like you. Especially after you started working at our company. Not only are you beautiful. They said you’re smart and hardworking, too. They thought you’d be a good match for me, and even threatened to cut me off if I didn’t propose to you. They’ll write me off my inheritance if I don’t marry you. But you’re just a prudish, annoying bitch that got cold feet and ran away.”
The truth spills out. Every word confirms what you’ve already known about you and Kangdae. Hearing him tell you all of this to your face, however, makes you spite him even more. “I hate you. You never loved me.”
“No one would,” he sneers, pinning you harder against the tree and watching your feeble attempts to push him off. “Don’t you know what people say about you? How you’re a weird, little freak? The whole town is only nice to you because you’re dating me. Or have you forgotten? Is that why you’re hanging out with hybrids of all fucking things?”
“They’re not things, they’re—”
“Monsters,” he finishes for you. “I know, babe.”
“They’re not that either.”
Kangdae loudly laughs as if that’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. “Let’s not speak nonsense, okay? Where is he?”
“Who?”
“The hybrid. The bunny,” he clarifies, and your eyes widen slightly when you realize he’s talking about Jungkook. “Tell me where you’re hiding him, and I’ll forgive you.”
Dread weighs heavily on your heart as you glance at the others he came with. You don’t recognize any of them, but they look more menacing than a pack of wolves. They’re not just here for you, but they’re after Jungkook as well. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t fuck with me, babe. I know you ran away with him.” His grip around you tightens. “Is he with those other hybrids? That guy from the fighting ring has been threatening me since you took off together. That bunny was his prized fighter. Didn’t you think he’d want him back?”
“Fuck you.” You’d never give him up. Jungkook is your friend.
He looks over his shoulder where his men continue to point their guns at the manor’s residents. The hybrids are looking at you. Even from this distance, you can feel their worried gazes. “That’s okay, though. I see a leopard, a bear, and a wolf among the other hybrids you’re hiding. I could make a lot of money selling them off.”
“Don’t you fucking dare, Kangdae.”
“Here’s the deal, princess,” Kangdae begins, his voice low and angry as he digs into his pocket for something. “People have been hounding me for six months straight. Either you be a good girl and marry me, and I’ll leave your hybrids alone. Once I get my inheritance, I’ll take you straight to the guy from the ring. You’ll explain why his prized fighter is still missing, and you better pray that it’s only money that he wants from you.”
Your stomach feels sick at the implication.
“Or, if you’re still going to be stubborn, I’ll send my men to raid the manor and capture every single hybrid you’re hiding in there. I’ll make you watch as my men and I use them for target practice.” There’s a wicked smile on his face as he unveils something you’d never thought you’d see again. The engagement ring you left behind. “The choice is yours, babe.”
A tense silence fills the air as Kangdae pulls you aside to talk. Namjoon doesn’t keep his eyes off you. His jaw is locked and his gaze is steady as you look back at him.
He’s never smelled fear on you before. Not like this. Not with him or his pack. At least, not since you first stepped into the manor. Even then, it was never to this degree.
You’re terrified of Kangdae.
And all Namjoon can do is stay where he is – between his pack and the guns pointed at them – and helplessly watch you become more distressed.
The conversation feels longer than it is. A soft, worried whine from Seokjin, a small hiss from Yoongi. Even Taehyung stops himself from anxiously pacing as he guards the door, keeping the other hybrids inside the manor out of sight.
As for Namjoon, he feels his self-control slipping.
Anger rises when Kangdae puts his hands on you. How he pins you against the tree. How he roughly grabs your face. You struggle against his hold, but Kangdae is bigger and stronger than you are. His body now blocks you from his view, but when Kangdae turns to look at where his men are holding them hostage, he meets Namjoon’s eyes.
And he smirks.
“Careful, Namjoon,” Yoongi whispers, grounding him.
For a split second, the beast inside him almost takes form. It shows on his cracking skin and his glowing eyes, like a broken mask unveiling his true self. He covers his face with his hand, but his eyes are still glued on you.
If you’re to see him now – if you’re to see what he really looks like – you’ll hate him.
When you and Kangdae return, he has his arm around you. There’s a look of haughty triumph on his face as he makes a show to kiss the top of your head.
“Fifteen minutes,” he gives you before releasing you from his hold. It’s not much time at all, but you head straight to Namjoon.
“What’s going on?” he asks you, touching your arm. You still smell so distressed, it’s bitter and almost tannic from your usual warm, sweet scent.
“I’m going with them, Namjoon,” you tell him, your voice so quiet, it’s almost a whisper. Tears glisten in your eyes, and honestly, it makes Namjoon want to cry too.
“Wh-What are you saying? You can’t go with them,” Namjoon begins as waves of emotions hit him at once: anger, confusion, disbelief, hurt, sadness, yearning. “No. I won’t let them take you.”
“Please don’t make this harder for me. I made my choice.”
A glimmer catches his attention, and his eyes are drawn to the band around your finger. His heart breaks when he realizes it’s an engagement ring.
He… he feels like a fool. Of course, you couldn’t be his. Of course, you’d choose to be with someone else. Why would you ever love a beast like him?
“Thirteen minutes,” Kangdae loudly counts down from behind you, relishing the look on Namjoon's face.
And like that, you step away from him. Cold air escapes with your warmth, and he barely registers the thanks you give him for taking care of you all this time. Your voice feels like it’s underwater. His packmates are shocked and unhappy, their own feelings adding to the bitterness Namjoon could practically taste in the air.
He feels numb when you step in front of him again several minutes later, dressed in something more comfortable and with your duffle bag slung around your shoulder. It only occurs to him that he’s been crying when he glances up at you, his vision blurred by his tears.
There’s an apologetic look on your face. Words at the tip of your tongue that you can’t say to him. Truths that can’t be told. “Take care of Jungkook for me, okay?”
“You’re just letting her go?” Jimin berates, standing in the middle of Namjoon’s room in the west wing. It’s the only area in the mansion that hasn’t been fixed yet. A gaping hole on the side of the wall exposes the room to the dark clouds that cover the night sky whenever Namjoon is in a sour mood. “Why didn’t you try to stop her?”
“She’s already promised to someone else.” Namjoon’s voice is low and calm, almost matter-of-fact. But the scales on his face are cracking again. He’s able to control himself better at night, when the beast inside him is quiet and asleep, but after everything that’s happened, his emotions are all over the place.
For six months, Namjoon has been very careful to hide the monster he is. Afraid he’d scare you off if you know the truth. Afraid to show you any part of himself that doesn’t appear human. He’s been patient, yearning, glad to have you around but terrified for the inevitable day this would come.
The day you decide to leave.
Once Kangdae and his men got what they came for, they retreated. As if they never saw them, as promised.
It’s been hours since then. Namjoon, and the others return to the manor where Hoseok and Jimin anxiously question what had happened and where you’ve gone.
“You know damn well as much as I do that she doesn’t love that man,” Jimin hisses, his black feathers ruffled with agitation. “You’re so happy with her, Namjoon. You’ve been lonely for so long, and you told me it was a miracle that you found each other again. Every night, you’ve been courting her. Every night, you two were getting closer. And now, you’re just letting her leave without a fight? What if she doesn’t come back?”
“It’s okay, Jimin. She made her decision.” Namjoon’s voice is still calm, still quiet, as if trying to be complacent. But his voice breaks as he admits, “I’ll miss her too.”
The swan hybrid falls silent. Fresh tears sting his eyes, terrified that you’ve abandoned them. After they’ve all gotten used to you being around. After they began to consider you and Jungkook a part of their pack.
Jimin knows it’s not Namjoon’s fault that you left. He knows it isn’t yours either. That if those men hadn’t found the manor, you’d still be with them.
But as much as it pains him to question if you’ll ever come back to him, nothing could compare to how hurt Namjoon must be.
After all, you’re his mate. Namjoon wanted to finally tell you that tonight.
To love and to be loved in return.
If Namjoon could wish for anything, it would be that.
A single petal falls from a smeraldo flower Namjoon keeps in a vase. A beautiful flower that means an untold truth.
Jimin watches as it delicately lands on the table. It almost feels like watching sand in an hourglass. Every second that slips by seems emptier and emptier, and it makes him anxiously wonder if you’ll ever know how much Namjoon truly loves you.
Footsteps hurry toward the west wing, and Hoseok appears, out of breath. There’s urgency in his eyes as he looks at Namjoon and Jimin. “Those men! They’re back!”
“I thought they left,” Namjoon practically snarls. What more could they take from him?
Taehyung is with Hoseok. There’s a frown on his face as he says, “I don’t think they left at all. They just brought reinforcements.”
Namjoon’s eyes are ablaze. He’s barely in control of himself and it makes Jimin and the others eye each other nervously. He shoves past them, the scales on his skin becoming more apparent and glistening with the moonlight. “Find the others and stay inside!”
He storms out before he could hear their responses. The clear and starry sky now shrouded with dark clouds as a sudden storm picks up. Lightning flashes and Namjoon is gone, a menacing roar drowned by the rumble of thunder.
The three look at each other, unable to hide their worry. It’s been a long time since they’ve seen Namjoon like this, consumed by his anger and self-hatred. Where chaos and destruction mark his path, and the storms outside are strong enough to sweep everything away.
Seokjin and Yoongi join them, wearing similar expressions of concern. Jimin looks at his pack before him and realizes there’s one missing. “Where’s Jungkook?”
A bump in the road stirs you from sleep. In the back of the car like an arrested suspect, you must have dozed off. You’ve been crying the whole time. Tears stain your cheeks and the puffiness in your eyes and face are evident of that.
It’s just you and Kangdae in the white van. One, you’re certain, specifically designed for capturing hybrids.
The backdoors aren’t unlockable from the inside, and there are strong chains hooked against the sides and bottoms to keep the hybrid in place. A cage mesh separates you from the front seats of the car, keeping you contained like an animal.
The other men he was with must have taken separate vehicles, but you all seem to be going to the same place. Back to that small, provincial town.
Where everyone knows you as the odd, quiet, but beautiful girl who is incredibly lucky to be with someone as handsome and wealthy as Kangdae. Where you’re about to sign your life away to a loveless marriage with a terrible man. Where you could only hope that this is the right choice, and that nothing will harm the hybrids.
Emotional exhaustion still has its hold on your body. You hear Kangdae’s voice, but you could barely make out what he’s saying. He’s speaking so quietly, he must think you’re still asleep. Your eyes start to adjust to the darkness in the back of the van. There isn’t much to look at anyway. It’s empty except for your opened duffle bag and…
You nearly scream at the pair of big, doe-shaped eyes staring at you in the shadows. Before you could make a sound, he quickly covers your mouth with the palm of his hand and places a finger to his pouty lips, gesturing you to keep quiet.
“Jungkook? What the hell are you doing here?” you question, bewildered, when he finally lets you go. He must’ve snuck into your bag while you were in a rush to pack your things.
The bunny hybrid smiles so widely, his nose crinkles a little. “I couldn’t let you face the bad humans alone, can I?”
Conflicted between relief and upset upon seeing him, you’re touched that he’s here. Even if he’s supposed to be in the manor with everyone else. Before you could question it, he motions you to keep quiet again. One of his long ears is pressed against the divider as he crouches in Kangdae’s blindspot.
“It’s even better than that,” Kangdae continues, keeping his voice low as he talks to someone on the phone. Luckily, he doesn’t seem to notice that you aren’t alone in the back. His attention is focused on the road ahead. “There’s a house full of them.”
Your eyes widen when you realize Kangdae is talking about the hybrids.
You can’t make out the response on the other line, but you recognize the tone Kangdae is using. It’s the voice he uses whenever he makes a sales pitch. He describes the other hybrids one by one: how bigger Seokjin is compared to other wolf hybrids, the rarity of Yoongi’s leopard skin, the pros of Taehyung’s strength as a bear hybrid for intense work labor. Your stomach knots as he talks about how much profit he could make if he were to capture and sell them.
The more you listen, the sicker you feel. Whatever Kangdae is planning, it sounds like it will happen as soon as tonight, and you and Jungkook need to come up with something quickly if you want to warn the others in time.
“Kangdae,” you call out to him, back in the same position you woke up in as Jungkook shifts into a bunny and blends in the shadows. “I need to use the restroom.”
“Shit. I gotta go,” Kangdae mutters in annoyance before he hangs up the phone. “Hold it in, babe. We’ll be in the closest town soon.”
“I can’t,” you whine, wiggling around and squeezing your thighs together. “Kangdae, please. Can you pull over?”
He glares at you from the rearview mirror and curses, suddenly swerving. Tires screech in an abrupt halt that slams you forward against the cage. Luckily, you and Jungkook aren’t hurt as Kangdae rips the car door open and slams it shut. In his bunny form, you watch Jungkook dart toward the other end of the van. You catch your breath as the door opens and Kangdae grabs you. “You better make it fast or I’ll—”
Before he could finish, Jungkook shifts and jumps out at him. The sharp snap of his knuckles hitting Kangdae square in the face is the most satisfying sound you’ve ever heard. He instantly lets you go and yelps in pain, but Jungkook quickly pins him to the ground, throwing his legs around Kangdae’s torso, and uses his brute strength to keep him in a chokehold. “His keys!”
You snap out of it and yank the van’s keys from Kangdae’s jeans.
“Bitch!” he wheezes, choking a bit more as Jungkook’s hold on him tightens. His face looks like a mess. You’re pretty sure Jungkook broke his nose and blood drips freely onto the hybrid’s arm.
You shut the back doors and jump to the driver’s seat. “Jungkook, come on!”
It’s only then that he lets Kangdae go. The bunny hybrid kicks him in the ribs for good measure, snapping that the kick was for calling you a bitch, and then quickly climbs onto the passenger seat beside you.
Tires screech again as you turn the van around and floor it back to the road that you came from. You glance at the rearview mirror to see Kangdae still on the ground, but struggling to get back on his feet. You don’t see any of the other men around, but you’re sure it won’t be long until they’re on your trail.
You glance at Jungkook, who is rubbing his knuckles and taking deep breaths to let the adrenaline die down. His eyes are fixed on the road as he tells you, “I don’t think we lost too much time, but he told them where the manor is. We should hurry.”
“Yeah,” you agree, trying to remember the path you took all those months ago that led you to the manor. “You were amazing back there, you know?”
“I told you I’m strong,” Jungkook teases with a flex of his muscles. His smile falls as he admits, “I’m just glad that I was able to use it for something other than fighting other hybrids, you know?”
“You’ll never have to,” you promise as the van speeds along, reminiscent of how your adventure started. Back when you were so lost and scared, and not sure where to go. But now, you have direction. Now, you have a place to go to. “Let’s go home, Jungkook.”
What once was a clear and starry night becomes dark and stormy. Black clouds hang over the manor by the time you reach it, and rain pours as heavily as it did the night you first arrived. An old and forgotten manor, once peaceful and unassuming, now holds the aftermath of a perilous battle.
You and Jungkook step out of the van with caution. Blood is spilled on the ground. Grass is singed with ash and dying embers. Weapons have been dropped and shells of bullets discarded. Something tore through here, and you can only assume that the carcasses and severed limbs are the men that foolishly stayed behind.
Your stomach twists with worry and grief. Had Kangdae ordered his men to attack the hybrids as soon as you left? Are any of them hurt?
“We have to get inside,” you remind Jungkook. More men are coming, based on what you overheard Kangdae say. You need to warn them before it’s too late.
“Don’t give up!” a voice in the roughly distance exclaims. You and Jungkook immediately hide around the van, noticing a group of armed men by the front doors. “Break the doors open! I want those hybrids captured alive!”
Your heart sinks when you realize you might be too late.
Jungkook nudges you, grabbing your attention. He nods toward the side of the manor – that there still might be another entryway you can sneak into without alerting the men outside. Both of you jog toward the east side of the manor and see a window that you could climb into. Jungkook gives you a boost before he easily jumps in after you.
At the entryway, you see the hybrids have barricaded the doors. Taehyung in his bear form is leaning against the furniture, but you’re not sure how long he can keep holding them back. The others are on their guard, getting ready to attack. Everyone is there but one person.
“Where’s Namjoon?”
The hybrids snap their attention toward you when they hear your voice. Hoseok’s eyes widen in shock. “You came back?”
“I came home,” you correct as they return your smile. Taehyung grunts as he struggles to keep the barricade up. You grab the heaviest thing you could use as a weapon and signal for him and the others to hide.
The front doors slowly creak up with a loud, echoing groan. The intruders slowly enter, pushing aside the furniture piled up by the door. It feels haunted with how old and antique the style of the manor is, and although it seems empty, they can feel pairs of eyes watching them from the shadows.
Jimin drops something from above, startling the men, distracting them as the rest of you sneak in and attack. The fight is instant. In your hands is a heavy candelabra, and you swing it at the back of a man’s head. It disorients him, causing him to drop his gun, and you kick it out of reach. You then swing the candelabra into another man in front of you, nearly knocking him back into another person, and causing both of them to stumble on the ground.
The others around you are fairing just as well.
Taehyung’s ferocious roar is enough to scare some of them off. From above, Jimin snatches weapons out of their hands and tosses them where they can’t reach. Hoseok uses his antlers to ram into multiple people, and Yoongi’s agility makes it difficult for anyone to catch him. Seokjin’s bite is powerful as he chases them out of the manor, and Jungkook, who is trained in hand-to-hand combat, uses his skills to knock them down before they could hurt anyone from the pack.
The battle spills outside. Most of the intruders have given up and fled, vowing to never return when they realize the price of the hybrids aren’t worth their lives. They slip on the wet mud mixed with blood and scream in horror when they finally see the carnage and are reminded of what their fates could be. The hybrids around you are breathing hard from exertion, worn from battle but otherwise unhurt.
It’s almost over. Only a few stragglers are left, but the victory is yours. The manor is safe for another day, but you haven’t seen Namjoon yet.
“He’s in the west wing,” Yoongi tells you as you eye the forbidden area. He grabs the collar of a random man and starts to drag him away. “We got things covered here. You should go to him.”
Adrenaline still pumps in your veins, but you nod your head, enter the manor, and climb up the stairs to see him. At first glance, the westside of the manor seems identical to the eastside. However, the further you go, the darker and desolate it becomes.
Time always seems at a standstill within the manor. The furniture is old, the floorboards creak, the wallpaper is outdated, but it isn’t until you enter the west wing when you truly see the effects of time and abandonment. White sheets cover the furniture, cracks and holes on the walls, old paintings are weathered and an armor suit with a sword is rusted.
At the end of the long hallway is a large doorway that’s cracked open. Rain spills from the exposed area, further damaging the soaked floorboards. The cold wind makes you shiver as you slowly cross the threshold. It looks like you’re in the master bedroom. A large bed, antique furniture, a vase with a smeraldo flower, but more notably, by the tall windows, is Namjoon.
His clothes are torn, as if he’s been clutching them so tightly, they’ve ripped. You see that he’s breathing heavily, gasping for air, curling into himself as if he’s in pain. Your heart suddenly yearns for him – wanting to comfort him, wanting to kiss his burdens away – as you take a step forward and carefully call out his name. “Namjoon?”
When he looks at you, he’s almost unrecognizable. Half-shifted to whatever hybrid he is. The smoothness of his sun-kissed skin has turned into scales that glimmer slightly in the moonlight. His fingernails have grown to long claws, painting his entire hand black and shaping it like a talon. Horns grow out of his head, bending back. Blood covers his mouth and clothes, and you can’t tell if it’s his blood or not. The whites of his eyes are gone, but they still look at you with the same surprise, gentleness, and worry that the Namjoon you know would always have.
“What are you doing here?” he questions, his voice rough with a low growl. He tries to hide from you, curling up into a tight ball, clearly ashamed of his appearance. It looks like he’s trying to fully shift back into a human, but isn’t able to. “Don’t look at me. I won’t– I can’t hold it back!”
But you don’t care. You take another step forward. “Namjoon, I–”
Out of nowhere, someone grabs you by your hair and yanks you back. A yelp of pain escapes your lips as one of the intruders, who followed you through the west wing, hisses down your neck. “Bitch. Did you think you’d get away from me?”
“Kangdae!” you cry out, trying to pry his fingers off you, but he just pulls you harder, forcing you down on your knees.
Tears prick your eyes as he starts to drag you by your hair, and you scream for him to stop. To let you go. You don’t want anything to do with this man. You don’t want a future with him. You never wanted one to begin with.
He only manages to pull you out of the master bedroom when a deep rumble for the shadows comes from within. The ground shakes and bits of debris fall from the ceiling. Kangdae’s grip tightens around you, this time, out of fear.
In the shadows, a pair of angry, glowing indigo eyes glare at him. Lightning flashes, giving a glimpse of a monster in its depths.
Then, since the night you first arrived at the mansion, you hear it. The same sound that spooked Jungkook all those months ago. The sound of an ungodly roar.
Namjoon never wanted you to see him like this.
A pitifully lonely, ugly, beastly creature like him doesn’t deserve to even be looked at by someone as beautiful and precious as you. He’s seen the terror in the eyes of everyone who’s witnessed this form, even from his own pack mates. He can’t bear the thought of scaring you, but Namjoon is selfish. Because he can’t bear the thought of losing you either.
Perhaps it's fate that drew him to participate in that underground battle all those years ago. His hatred and anger for himself and for the world could be catalyzed in forms of words and poetry as a writer, as a rapper. He wanted to at least try.
Namjoon noticed you right away among the crowd. You were breathtaking then, and even more so now. Namjoon doesn’t know much about love. He doesn’t have much for himself, let alone for others. But something akin to it – something warm, something right – he felt it that night. He knew you were someone special to him before he even knew your name.
The second time, after thinking about you nonstop, it’s like you manifested for him. Again, he saw you in the crowd, looking up at him with intrigue. Then, to his horror, his disguise falls off and the only sign of him being a hybrid is unveiled to the room. He remembers the shock, the disgust, the fear. He can smell it on their skins, but among all that is your sweet one.
You aren’t afraid when you approach him and hand back his sunglasses. There’s a gentle kindness in your voice when you speak to him. As you look him in the eyes, you don’t flinch from fear or nerves. You treat him like he’s human.
The interaction is too brief, but he’s never forgotten it.
Perhaps it’s fate that drew you to the manor half a year ago. He never thought he’d see you again. He’s mourned that idea more times than he’d like to admit: you were the girl who got away, a girl who he’d be too afraid to show his true self to anyway, a girl he could love but would never love him back in return.
As the poor weather matches his uneasy heart, he still asks you every night to spend time with him, expecting that you’d refuse and turn him down. But you never did. Even if he shows you boring things like his plants or his books, you still look at them with fascination because those boring things mean a lot to him.
Like waves of the ocean meeting the shore, you ebb away his loneliness and sorrows. The raging storm inside him subsides, and he feels content with just your presence. It makes him happy, seeing you bond with his packmates. It makes him happy, hearing your laughter and listening to you talk about your day. It makes him happy when you decide to stay.
Namjoon is already upset that the intruders have taken you from him, invaded his home, and threatened his pack. The anger and self-hatred rolls back like a tsunami, crashing into him so viciously that he feels the beast taking over, consuming him. Namjoon is so scared of losing that control he’s maintained while you were here, but now, it’s like he can’t think. He can’t breathe.
Someone is hurting his mate.
It’s all he thinks about as the manor rumbles around him and he fully shifts before your eyes. In the piercing darkness, he glares at the man who has his hand on you. He watches as he falls down and scrambles back, eyes shaking but never looking away as Namjoon steps closer into the light, revealing his monstrous form.
Namjoon isn’t just one hybrid. He’s several of them at once: nose of a pig, iridescent blue scales of a reptile, tail and long whiskers of a carp, long body of a serpent, talons of a falcon, beard of a goat. An ancient creature that only exists in stories and legends.
Namjoon is a dragon.
Kangdae screams as the dragon roars at him. He scrambles backwards on the ground, unable to tear his eyes away from the monster in the shadows. Namjoon lunges after him but isn’t able to fit through the doorway. With a snarl, he exits from the exposed hole in the corner of the room.
You hear Namjoon on the rooftop, trying to find Kangdae. The two of you are startled when a window breaks in, glass shattering on the floor, followed by his frustrated grunts when he still can’t reach him.
You’re still in shock, but Kangdae is quick to recover. His nose is broken from earlier and dried blood stains his shirt and skin. But in the backpocket of his jeans is a gun.
“Kangdae, stop. Don’t hurt him.”
“He’s a monster, babe,” he reminds you coldly. “One that will make me so rich and famous when I capture it. Imagine, a dragon hybrid under my command.”
“As if he’d listen to you!” Jungkook must’ve hit him harder than you thought. He’s insane to go after Namjoon like this.
“No,” he agrees, voice low like a growl as he eyes you. “But he’ll listen to you.”
With his gun drawn, he grabs you and drags you back into the master bedroom, near the exposed opening. Cold rain continues to pour down, drenching both of you. Vines and smeraldo flowers cover a lattice panel against the wall, and Kangdae barks at you to climb it. You’re trembling from both the fear and the cold as you glance down, hand shaking as you grasp the thin, wet wood.
One slip, and it’s over.
Kangdae nearly shoves you off the ledge, demanding you to climb. Slowly, carefully, you get to the roof of the manor with Kangdae right behind you. Below, you hear the other hybrids call out to you. It’s hard to see from the storm, but Kangdae waves his gun around and fires it at random. You scream at the sound, clutching the wood so tightly as you shut your eyes. Thankfully, it doesn’t sound like he hit anyone, but you practically scramble the rest of the way when he snaps at you to move.
Thunder rumbles and lightning flashes as you finally reach the top. And it’s only then that you’re able to get a good glimpse of Namjoon’s hybrid form.
He looks nothing like any creature you’ve seen before. His scales are white-blue, shining the same way the smeraldo flowers do with the heavy rain. His body is incredibly long like a serpent, with long talons on his feet and claws. He looks intimidating, but as you look into his eyes, you can see that it’s so clearly Namjoon.
You could never forget how beautiful his eyes are.
“Nam—” you begin to call out, but Kangdae covers your mouth with one hand. The other holds a gun at the dragon.
“What’s the matter, beast? Are you in love with her?” he taunts, cackling sinisterly at the angry fire in the hybrid’s eyes. “Do you honestly think she’d want you, when she has someone like me?”
But Kangdae couldn’t be more wrong.
You struggle in his hold again, elbowing him off you, yanking his hand away from your mouth. “Don’t believe him, Namjoon! I’ll never love him!”
“Shut up, babe! Or I’ll make you regret it!”
“It’s you, Namjoon! You’re the one I love!”
You see the dragon’s eyes widen at your confession.
“I said shut the fuck up!” Kangdae shouts, trying to grab you again, but you manage to slip out of his hold, nearly falling forward as you scramble away from him. Namjoon stands over you protectively once you’re close enough, roaring so loudly it makes the whole manor tremble.
Kangdae nearly loses his balance too, almost slipping off the edge. He aims his gun at Namjoon and fires, but the bullets do little to harm him. Namjoon lunges to bite him, but Kangdae shoots again at his face. This time, it makes him flinch and recoil in pain.
You scream when you see Namjoon is hurt, just as the other hybrids catch up to you guys. Kangdae comes toward you again, his hand reaching to grab you once more. But you’ve had enough.
He threatens to make your life miserable, like he always does. Because he’s always been the man that never gets rejected. That always gets his way.
And you’re so sick and tired of it.
Every single day with him has been a living hell.
“Fuck you!” you curse, shoving him as hard as you can. He stumbles toward the ledge. It’s raining so hard, you can barely see. The roof is slippery. Even you start to lose your balance until Jungkook comes up and holds you steady. As Kangdae starts to fall back, you barely notice that he’s pointing his gun right at you.
But Namjoon does. His roar shakes the entire manor, causing Kangdae to fall off the ledge before he could fire his gun.
It feels like everything is slowed-down. You’re thankful Jungkook turns your head away, cradling you to his chest so you don’t have to see. That he covers your ears as the heavy rain drowns out Kangdae’s final scream. You’re thankful the rain hides your tears as you try to process what just happened.
You feel shocked. You feel sad how it came to this. Relieved that it’s over. Scared, even.
But not as scared as Namjoon.
The dragon hybrid tries to hide away from you again, curling up in himself like a tight ball some meters away. If you hadn’t thought he was a monster before, surely you do now. That seems to be what he and the other hybrids are thinking because, after a while, you hear Taehyung quietly plead, “Please don’t be afraid of him.”
“He looks like one now, but he’s not a monster,” Hoseok adds as you finally look at where Namjoon is.
“I know,” you reply softly. Of course they’re not. None of them are. Joy lights up on their faces as you move out of Jungkook’s hold, careful not to trip as you head toward the cowering beast. Up close, Namjoon looks ethereal. Carefully, you place your hand on his iridescent scales, rubbing it gently, petting him like you would Jungkook. You feel him tense beneath your fingertips before he turns his head to look at you – cautious, confused, maybe a bit hopeful. You smile at him, looking him in the eyes. “You’re so pretty, Namjoon.”
The rain begins to stop. Cold scales are replaced with warm skin as he shifts back to his human form. His large hand cups the side of your face as he looks into your eyes. You watch waves of emotion soar through him at once as he asks, “Did you mean what you said? Do you love me?”
“I do–” He barely lets you answer before he kisses you.
Deep in the woods, in an area that humans haven’t come across in many years, lies an old, abandoned manor. Harboring inside are neither men nor animals, but outcasts who have been shunned for their appearances. Grotesque mutations and behaviors deemed unfavorable to a society that treats them so cruelly.
Until, one day, you come along.
Beautiful as you are kind, but in some ways, you’re a bit of an outcast yourself. You never felt like you belonged in that small, provincial town. Burdened by expectations of keeping appearances to what others saw fit.
Perhaps that’s why you could never be afraid of them. You relate to the hybrids more than you had any other human.
“Ah,” Yoongi complains, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just replaced these floor tiles a month ago.”
“Sorry, hyung,” Namjoon apologizes sheepishly. “I’ll help you fix the mess.”
“Don’t bother,” he tells him, though he eyes Jimin and the others for an unspoken plea for help. One that Jimin pretends to not see as he helps you sweep up the debris. The leopard gives you a pointed glance and says, “Keep him distracted before he breaks anything else, okay?”
“Sure, Yoongi.” You look over at Namjoon, grinning to yourself at how flustered he looks at the request. And how easily you agreed to it.
Last night took a toll on everyone. You’re not sure what the hybrids did with Kangdae’s body, and honestly, you don’t want to ask. Whether they buried him in a shallow grave or left him to the wolves, it doesn’t matter to you anymore.
The westside looks more deteriorated than before Namjoon’s transformation, and all of you ended up staying in the east wing with what little sleep you could manage. The other hybrids piled together in Jungkook’s room while Namjoon stayed in yours.
And it’s between soft kisses and scenting that he tells you the one truth that was left untold. That you’re his mate.
To be loved and to be loved in return. It’s a new and unfamiliar feeling to you. It’s the same for Namjoon as well. That warm and precious feeling that novels you’ve read often retell, you’re willing to know it all with him.
Your hand slips into Namjoon’s, drawing his attention. There’s a fondness in his eyes when you don’t shy away from him, despite knowing what he is. His eyes linger at your hands for a moment, his gaze already telling you that he loves you before he even speaks the words. And you meet his beautiful eyes with a teasing glint in yours.
“Namjoon, would you like to spend the evening with me?”
Because the greatest thing you’ll ever learn is to love and to be loved in return.
Thank you for reading ♡
Comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated!
Previous | Masterlist
#to be loved#namjoon x reader#namjoon x you#hybrid namjoon x you#hybrid namjoon x reader#bts namjoon x you#bts namjoon x reader#bts hybrid x you#bts hybrid x reader#hybrid bts#bts fic#bts hybrid fic#bts hybrid au#bts fanfic
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To Be Changed
To allow yourself to be loved is to morph into wet clay,
soft and malleable,
quick to shift shape at the lightest touch.
I was a perfectly fine sculpture
with bumps and bruises and chips-
imperfections that came together to tell my story.
Your touch turned my hardened stone to pliant clay.
You flattened my bumps,
sharpened my curves,
smoothed over my chips.
You molded me into the perfect shape,
something you could find beautiful.
I became unrecognizable.
You compromised the structural integrity of my design.
You created bumps of your own
and chips to match,
until I needed your hands to hold myself up.
When you were done playing with wet clay,
you dropped your hands that held my shape,
and allowed me collapse in on myself.
Love was convincing,
pushed me to morph into what you wanted to see.
To be loved is to be changed,
and I hate the way you loved me.
#author#writing#poetry#girl things#poem#stories#original poem#sad stories#sad but true#sadgirl#sad thoughts#sad poetry#sad poem#sad quotes#emotional#emotional words#poetic#poets on tumblr#writers and poets#short poetry#poems#love#loved#loss#grief#grieving#to be loved#to be changed#wlw#sapphic
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First Share A Song Sunday of February! This one’s coming later than midday cause I’ve had a day! (and not a good one🫠)
This one is called “Waiting For You (Again)”! I unfortunately had a bad habit in the past of waiting around on people to treat me right. This is for all my (ex-)doormats! You deserve better.
As always, link to the video if you wanna watch it here: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPR3Mmy8q/
#share a song sunday#found in song#my stuff#my songs#my music#waiting for you#(again)#doormat#have some self respect#lovingly of course#we deserve better#stop waiting#to be loved#the people who love you#won’t have you questioning it#or waiting on them forever
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I might be projecting but Charles “who loves relationships” Leclerc. Martyr of Maranello. Saint of Ferrari.
Charles who thinks when he’s not enough people will leave him, or worse they get taken away. Always waiting for the other shoe to drop something something about him as an ideal as a fantasy broken not a god but a mortal after all
Ends up leaving people before they leave him. Or pushes people to leave him in the end because it’s only a matter of time no?
Charles who would rather sell bits of his soul in exchange for being abandoned being left making sure to be wanted by people doing the right thing wearing his heart on his sleeve bleeding bleeding bleeding always bathed in red
It’s easier to be who people want him to be than who really is as sometimes he doesn’t like who he is, or he ends up not knowing which part of him is true and which part of him isn’t
It’s easier for him to be kind and to let people walk over him as sometimes he understands, he gets it, he empathizes, and he’s willing to gave way
But oh, there are days where he hungers. He wants to bite. Wants to ache. Wants to take instead. To hurt.
But he’s always afraid after. Of the cost. Of what will be taken away. Equivalent exchange. A transaction.
He’s used to the pain. Because pain and love for him are synonymous. It’s not love if it doesn’t hurt. So he struggles.
#just thoughts#charles leclerc#my baby boy#I just want Charles to be happy#to be loved#cl16#f1#Ferrari
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There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me.
Pride and Prejudice (2005)
#lovers#jane austen#lover era#my love#dark academia#mr darcy#dark acadamia aesthetic#jane austin quote#nature#pride and prejudice#elizabeth bennet#lizzy bennet#light academism#trees and forests#to be loved#i love you so very much#most ardently#love#letters to my love#light acadamia aesthetic#forest#naturecore
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To Be Loved | To Be Alone With You
Luke Hughes x Austen Kelce
"Luke? What are you doing at my brother's front door?"
He stands there, curls I love so much hidden under a devils hat and sweats on, a tote bag I had left in Jersey on his shoulder.
"Wow, act like you miss me a little less, yeah?" He retorts, albeit jokingly as his brows raise.
"You know that's not what I meant," I remind, brows still as furrowed as before. "Don't you have a game tomorrow?"
"It's at home, which is all of an hour and a half from here," Is his returned reasoning this time.
"And the reason you're at my brother's door is? I remember telling you I offered to babysit for Jason and Kylie weeks ago when you asked about Valentine's day plans?"
"And I called him up and told him that he was more than welcome to help you watch the girls, given they're all already in bed and you're going to be all by your lonesome," my sister-in-law chimes, coming up behind me and wrapping her arms around my neck in a hug. "I wasn't going to let you spend your first Valentine's day together apart when the kid lives in Jersey."
I can't help but look between Lu and Ky, Luke looking hesitant in her presence as he holds my tote out to me in offering.
"I brought your favorite takeout from the joint in jersey we can warm up, matching pajama bottoms and my red Devs hoodie you always steal," He seems to feel the need to explain. "And I brought you three of those "Blind Date with a Book" things you were showing me at the book store last month. I figured you'd enjoy them."
"I hate you," I can't help but mumble, the tears in my eyes causing him to step forward and wrap me in his arms, eyes wide as they make contact with Ky.
"Don't worry, Kid. It means she loves you," Jason's voice is the next to join the conversation, coming up beside his wife. "Now, ground rules. No kissing, no touching, no naked touching, nothing rated more than G on the TV-"
"And that's enough out of him," Ky hushes Jas, putting a hand over his mouth. "You can ignore everything he just said, I trust you guys to not do something stupid," She assures as Lu and I chuckle at the behavior I wish I could say is unusual for my brothers. "We're going to go, call us if you need anything."
"We won't, have fun tonight," I assure, Luke shifting us out of the older couple's way to allow them to leave.
"I'm serious! If you make me an uncle in my own home I'm calling Trav and we're killing you, Hughes," Jason threats, the words ringing as Ky shoves him down the front walk, Luke nodding in a wordless answer as they go, Ky only shooting us a smile before shutting the door behind them.
"You drove all the way here and packed us dinner, just because I was busy?" I can't help but ask, turning in his arms and craning my neck.
"I'd drive any distance to get to see you," He answers, cupping my cheeks with large hands and giving me a kiss. "Now, I'm going to go put dinner in the oven to warm up, you want to go change and we can reconvene in 10 in front of the tv?"
All I can do is smile and nod, stealing the pjs and hoodie he brought me from the bag with dinner and all and handing the bag back to his waiting hand.
One more peck and a promise to meet me in the living room sends me off, and he fulfills his promise when I see him sat behind the coffee table, dinner in front of him while he clicks through the tv for a movie.
"Tadah!" I exclaim, throwing my hands up as I move into his view, his hoodie sleeves pooling at my elbows due to their length.
Red plaid pj pants that I can see he's in his own pair of, the red hoodie matching exactly in a way that makes my head happy.
"You look gorgeous, Baby," He compliments, waving me over to his side, and tucking me into it and kissing the top of my head.
"Thank you for driving here," I mumble, enjoying his warmth.
"We'll have to thank Kylie when she gets home, she's the one who called me up," A shy smile taking over at the admittance.
"God, what did my brother do to deserve her."
#original character#the writing of spencer rose#nhl fanfiction#best friends to lovers trope#luke hughes x best friend oc#luke hughes x oc#luke hughes#nj devils#valentines day#to be loved#jason kelce#kylie kelce
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