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pedrospatch · 2 years ago

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a safe haven l five

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist

summary: You and Ellie have a talk outside your house in the middle of the night and you discover her secret; Joel asks you one more time to tell him to back off and you don’t comply.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) mention of reader’s injuries from the previous chapter (very minimal use of color description, i try to keep it was vague as possible), mentions of domestic violence, talk of possible infertility, pregnancy loss, reader describes her miscarriage (mention of cramping/bleeding), infedility. SMUT. fingering, oral sex (f receiving).

Word Count: 7.5k

You stare up blankly into the pitch black darkness of your bedroom—at Luke’s request, you’d drawn the linen curtains over the window, keeping out the moonlight so it wouldn’t disturb his slumber. Unable to see the hour on your watch, you can’t be too sure as to what time it is, but you’re fairly certain it’s well past the middle of the night, possibly even past the earlier hours of the morning. The harder that you try forcing yourself to fall asleep, the more you find yourself tossing and turning under the covers in frustration. It’s beginning to break what little sanity you have left and eventually, you realize it’s better just to give up on sleep altogether.

Luke is laying beside you, although he’d rolled over onto his side with his back to you. He had gone straight to bed after dinner while you’d been washing the dishes and cleaning up the kitchen and you couldn’t have been more grateful. You often have very little choice but to fulfill your wifely duties in the bedroom, but lately, Luke had been so tired that he hadn’t even bothered with you, and for that, you’d also been grateful. You had grown to loathe whenever he touched you, it disgusted you whenever he would kiss you or put his hands on you in an intimate manner—you couldn’t even stand it when he so much as breathed in your direction.

Being careful not to wake him, you swing your legs over the side of the mattress and climb out of bed, quietly padding your way over into the bathroom. Closing the door, you flip on the lights and take a look at yourself in the large, oval shaped mirror hanging on the wall above the porcelain sink. You begin to silently inspect your reflection, silently praying that you’d somehow made it through another incident with Luke unscathed. Though your face still stings, thankfully no mark from the blow had been left behind—the same can’t be said for your upper arm. Your skin is blemished, soft flesh tender and irritated from the iron grip he’d had on you earlier in the kitchen. It’s splotched, and the harder you stare at it, the easier it is to make out the shape of his fingerprints, an injury you can’t exactly blame on running into the door or an accidental kick from a horse.

It would be hell having to wear a shirt with longer sleeves to cover yourself up in this heat while working outside in the paddock and inside the stables—the mere thought of it alone makes you sweat. Either that or you can hide away at home for a few days until the marks heal, or at least start to fade. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d have to pretend to be sick and miss your work duties long enough for an injury to heal.

You take the thin, cotton gray robe hanging from a hook on the bathroom door and tug it on over your sleepwear before turning off the lights and stepping out of the bathroom. Brushing past your bed, you slip out of the bedroom. You’re careful to be quiet as you swiftly make your way downstairs and dip out through the front door and onto the porch. During the day, the weather is scorching, but evenings aren’t quite as bad—you wrap the billowy fabric of your robe around yourself as you sink down, taking a seat on the top step of the porch.

“Fuck,” you mutter softly.

Covering your face with both hands, you shake your head as you will yourself to keep it together—you fail at holding back the incoming tears. You curse again, angry at yourself for crying over Luke. Bastard doesn’t deserve a single tear, and yet, the number of them you’d shed over him in the last couple of years would be enough to power the hydroelectric dam outside the town’s walls.

You lift a hand to your mouth and muffle your sobs, but one or two slip out into the silence of the night. Not that it matters, because no one’s around to hear them. Besides the patrolmen working the wall on the opposite end of the settlement, everyone is at home, fast asleep in their beds. No one in their right mind was up at this hour if they didn’t have to be. Or so you’d thought.

The familiar sound of Ellie’s voice saying your name startles you, prompting you to let out a loud, audible gasp as your head snaps up and whips to the side. Instinctively, you reach up and quickly, almost furiously, wipe at your eyes with the sleeve of your robe. “Ellie?” you say her name in a confused, questioning manner as she approaches. Though your voice is thick with your emotions, your concern for her is still evident in your tone. “What are you doing outside at this time of night? What’s the matter? Is everything alright?”

“I couldn’t really sleep, so I decided to take a stroll. Wanted to get some fresh air,” she says. She draws closer to you and in the soft, dim glow of the porch light, she notices the tear stains that streak the sides of your face. “You know, I thought I heard someone crying and for a minute, I could’ve sworn I was losing my fucking shit or something. But I guess not.” Pausing, she shoves her hands into the packets of her plaid pajama pants. “You okay? And before you lie to me and say that you’re fine, just know that I’m not blind and I’m as hell not fucking stupid, either.”

You could have laughed—you actually almost do.

The girl’s too smart for her own good.

“Mind if I sit with you?” Ellie asks, gesturing with a nod of her head to the spot beside you.

You nod and as she sits down, your hand wraps itself around your sore arm. It’s not like she can see it through the sleeve of your robe, but it’s a force of habit. Hiding this, concealing that—covering it all up.

It’s wired into your brain.

Ellie pulls her hands out of her pockets and brings one of them onto your bare knee in a soft, light slap. “Alright, princess. Fess up.” She’d pinned you with that nickname since the night she had seen you in a dress at the party. Nudging your side with her elbow, she continues to say, “Talk to me. What happened?”

“Ellie—” You abruptly stop, realizing it’s a waste of breath trying to convince her that nothing is wrong. You’d gotten to know just how stubborn that she could be. Exhaling a sigh of defeat, you confess, “I had a fight with Luke.”

“What did he do?”

Perplexed, you turn and raise an eyebrow at her. Ellie still hadn’t had the chance to meet Luke, and after what he’d said about her, you had every intention of keeping it that way—you want him to stay far, far away from her. Still, her assumption about him being the one at fault catches you off guard. It makes you wonder just how observant the teenager really is and whether or not she has any preconceived notions about your marriage. “What makes you think that it was him? How do you know it wasn’t my fault?”

Ellie scoffs, “Please. What on earth could little miss perfect possibly do wrong?”

Another one of her silly nicknames for you.

Unable to help yourself, you crack a small smile.

You release a breathy little laugh and feel another tear slide down the side of your face. Reaching up, you wipe it away with the back of your hand. “I’m not perfect, Ellie. I’m far from it, actually,” you tell her, quietly. “I haven’t always been the best wife—definitely not a perfect one, that’s for damn sure. You might not believe me, but I’ve made my fair share of mistakes in the past, and those mistakes really caused a rift between us that we were never quite able to repair.”

Her eyebrows knit together. “Aw, come on. What could you have done that was so fucking terrible?”

You sigh.

“When my father got sick, I let myself drift away. I just had so much on my plate between learning how to take care of the horses and looking after my father as his health deteriorated. It was so overwhelming and I just—I shut Luke out.” You don’t have the slightest clue as to why you’re confessing any of this to a fifteen year old, but it eases the heaviness, lifts a weight that you’d been carrying on your shoulders for far, far too long. “I neglected him, Ellie. I neglected him, and I neglected my marriage.” Your voice breaks off into a trembling whisper, prompting her to nudge you with her elbow once more. Though she hadn’t said anything, it was her way of encouraging you to let it out and god only knew that you needed to get the guilt off your chest and out into the open. Luke is an awful man and you don’t want to justify the terrible things he’s done to you, but you still feel partially responsible for how badly things had fallen apart, how they began crumbling long before the first time he’d ever put his hands on you. “I know Luke never forgave me for that, Ellie. In fact, I would say he fucking hates me for it.”

“Your dad was fucking dying! You had to learn how to be a veterinarian in what—a year or two?” Ellie sounds angry and it doesn’t surprise you. You know she’s grown to love you over the last couple of months—you two spend more time with one another than with anyone else and have become incredibly close. Ellie takes a moment to calm herself down before asking, “How long have you and Luke been married to each other, anyway?”

“For about a few years now. We’ve been together since I got to Jackson,” you explain. “A few months after we met, we exchanged vows in the old church that’s just up the road.”

Ellie brings her knees up and hugs them against her chest. “Can I ask you something? It’s really fucking personal, though.” She notices the amused look you toss at her and rolls her eyes. “More personal than what I’ve asked you up until now.”

“Depends. How personal are we talking?” Though you’re mostly joking, part of you is worried about what’s going to come out of the brazen teenager’s mouth.

“How come you and Luke don’t have any kids?”

Your eyes fall down to your hands, which you’re subconsciously wringing together anxiously in your lap. “I don’t know, Ellie.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“Exactly that. I don’t know.” You shrug and feel her lean against you as you elaborate on it a little further. “Once we’d realized that Jackson was just about as safe and secure as we could hope for, we tried starting a family. We wanted to have children like the other couples here in the community, but it never happened for us. I did get pregnant once. It was right before my dad got sick. I miscarried just a couple of days after taking one of those home pregnancy tests. I had just told Maria about the positive result—I was at her place when I started cramping, and then I started bleeding a little bit. Luke said it was normal for some women to experience that, but the next morning, I used the bathroom and—” You trail off, letting her piece together the last piece of the puzzle.

“Shit, I’m sorry—”

“It’s alright,” you reassure her, not wanting her to feel bad for having asked. “Anyway, after a couple of months, we decided to try for another baby, but I never got pregnant again.” Out of the corner of your eye, you notice the expression on her face and beat her to the punch. “And before you ask me, we don’t know who the problem is. It could be me, it could be Luke—it could be both of us for all we know. But without proper medical testing, there’s no way we can know for sure what’s going on. It’s something that we’re probably never going to figure out.”

For a moment, Ellie’s silent.

You can feel she’s itching to ask another question, tell that it’s right there on the tip of her tongue.

“Go ahead,” you encourage her. “It’s okay.”

“Are you happy with Luke?”

You hadn’t known what to expect.

But you certainly hadn’t expected that.

Maybe you should have.

Masking the shock on your expression, you turn to her and say, “He’s my husband, Ellie.”

She blinks. “You didn’t answer the question.”

You open your mouth to speak, but words fail you, and you quickly clamp it shut.

She’d stumped you. Hard.

After a minute, Ellie laughs, “Well, your silence answered the question a hell of a lot better than you fucking did, princess.” She sees you wring your hands together again and her grin fades. She speaks again, her tone going serious. “I don’t get it. If you’re not happy with him, then why not leave and find someone you can actually be happy with?”

“Ellie—”

“Come on, I see how all the men around here look at you,” she scoffs, shaking her head.

“Elle, please,” you sigh in exasperation. “That’s not true.”

She rolls her bottom lip between her teeth and peers at you.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I know Joel’s definitely got a thing for you—he’s got a thing for you big time.”

You stiffen beside her.

Fuck.

“And I know you’ve got a thing for him too.” Ellie’s eyes glimmer mischievously, the corners of her mouth tugging up into a smirk as she watches the color drain from your face.

Say something, you silently urge yourself. Anything.

“Ellie, I’m married,” you manage to stammer out.

Ellie snorts and shoots you a knowing look. “Listen, princess. It’s like I told you. I’m not blind and I’m not stupid. I know something happened between you two in Ranger’s stall right before me and Dina walked in.”

Again, she has you at a complete loss for words.

“So,” she prompts. “Who kissed who first?”

“Fuck,” you mumble. Embarrassed, you drop your head into your hands, unable to look at her. “I can’t even imagine what you must think of me—”

She touches your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Surprised, you lift your head and turn to meet her gaze.

“I think you’re someone who just wants to be happy,” she states. “And for some fucking reason I don’t think I will ever understand, I’m guessing that Joel makes you happy?”

“I like him a lot, Ellie. Since the moment I first saw him back during the winter, there was something that drew me to him,” you admit, feeling your cheeks grow warm. After a minute, you squint at her and chuckle. “You probably find that pretty weird, don’t you?”

“Uh, yeah. Really fucking weird,” Ellie replies, causing you to laugh again. “Joel’s a different breed, man. Joel is—well, Joel is Joel. I didn’t see that asshole crack a smile until weeks after I first met him. We come here and not only do you have smiling—you got him to fucking dance at a party in front of a bunch of people. You might not think anything of it, but if you knew the Joel that I met a year ago, the Joel who hated the whole world and every motherfucker in it, you’d be shocked.”

You blurt the question before you can stop yourself. “How exactly did you and Joel wind up together, anyway?”

Ellie’s eyes widen slightly. “Um, I met him back in the Boston QZ.”

Suddenly, she seems nervous. Afraid, even.

Whatever secrets Ellie carries, she can’t speak of them—and you respect that.

“It’s okay,” you assure her, shaking your head. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to tell me, alright?”

She nibbles the inside of her cheek. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you—I do. I haven’t been able to tell anyone and it’s been weighing down on me for months now. It’s the reason I can’t fucking sleep at night. It’s on my mind almost all day, every fucking day,” she confesses with an exhausted sigh. “I know if there’s one person that I can trust to tell, it’s gonna be you and only you.”

Patiently, you wait for her to make her choice.

Ellie sighs again.

“If I do tell you, I need you to promise me a couple things—the first is that you won’t fucking freak out on me.”

“I won’t freak out on you,” you swear.

“And the second is that you can’t tell Romeo that I told you anything about what I’m about to tell you, no matter what,” she warns you. “Got it?”

“Oh, please don’t call him that,” you mutter with a small shake of your head. She narrows her eyes at you and you hold your hands up. “Don’t worry, Ellie. Whatever we talk about tonight, it stays between the two of us. I promise.”

“Okay.” Ellie inhales a deep breath, then exhales it slowly before she lifts her arm. Slowly, she peels back the sleeve of her shirt and holds her arm out for you to see.

“Ellie,” you gasp her name softly. Taking it into your hands, your eyes glaze over what appears to be a large, healed bite wound. After a moment, you look back up at her in complete disbelief. “Is this from—?”

She nods. “Yeah. I got bit a year ago, but I never got sick.”

“How is that even possible?”

“I’m immune.” Ellie withdraws her arm, tugging her sleeve back down into place. That’s when she finally begins to tell you the entire story, beginning to end. She spends the next hour sparing absolutely no details as she recounts each and every one of the events from the abandoned mall in the Boston QZ right down to the Firefly hospital in Salt Lake City.

She tells you about her best friend, Riley. She tells you about Marlene and the Fireflies. She tells you about Joel and his former smuggling partner, Tess, and how Marlene had entrusted them to smuggle Ellie out of Boston. She tells you all about how she and Joel had spent several months traveling on foot halfway across the country to get her to where she needed to be. Losses, near fatal injuries, failures—Ellie spills it all right into your lap, leaving you speechless.

“Joel told me there’s a bunch more people like me who are immune. He said they’ve stopped looking for a cure.” Ellie’s eyes glaze over with tears, but she furiously blinks them back. “I shouldn’t even be here. I should be dead. But I’m not. I’m living in an actual fucking town, living a decent life. I’m going to fucking parties when I should really be dead.”

Finally, you find your voice.

“Ellie, don’t say that,” you say, softly. “That’s not true.”

“It is. I should be fucking dead, just like Riley. Like Tess. Like Sam—”

You turn, angling your body towards hers. You want to reassure her—but you don’t want to dismiss her feelings, either. “Ellie, I can’t even imagine how you must feel after everything you’ve been through, so I won’t sit here and pretend that I can.” Lifting your hands, you take her face between your palms and hold it gingerly, your thumb brushing a stray tear that had slipped and rolled down her cheek. “But if you’re still alive, it’s for a reason.”

“I thought I had a reason,” she mumbles. “But it’s gone now. I thought I had a purpose, but turns out I fucking don’t. My immunity, it means nothing. It meant nothing, all the fucking shit that I had to go through, that Joel had to go through—it was all for fucking nothing.”

Dropping your hands from her face, you place an arm around her and pull her close. “It might not have worked out the way you wanted it to and for that, I’m sorry,” you say, giving her shoulders a squeeze. “I know nothing I say is going to make what you’re feeling just go away. But one thing is for sure, Ellie. You don’t deserve to be dead. None of what happened out there is on you. None of it is your fault. You shouldn’t feel guilty because you’re still alive. It’s like I told you—if you’re still here, it’s for a reason.”

She sniffs. “Maybe the reason is being a thorn in your side.”

Grinning, you reach up and lightly pinch her flushed cheek, prompting her to laugh and slap your hand away. “For the record, you could never be a thorn in my side, Ellie. Not even if you tried.” You wait until her giggles subside before adding, “And just so you know, you have my word about this staying between the two of us.”

“Swear it?”

“I swear it,” you promise her with confidence.

She flashes you a tiny, appreciative smile. “Thanks.”

A comfortable silence settles over the both of you. You take in the sounds of the night—crickets chirping, owls cooing, and you can even hear a coyote howling in the distance.

“It’s pretty late,” you say, breaking it a few minutes later when you realize how long she’d been out of bed. “You should get home now.” You stand up and hold a hand out to her, helping her up to her feet. “Come on, I’ll take you to the door.”

You walk her back over to her and Joel’s unit and stand at the foot of the porch with her.

“Hey.” Ellie turns to you. “Is it alright if I like—give you a hug or something?”

Her request takes you by slight surprise, but you nod. “Of course.”

She hesitates, at first. But then she takes a step towards you and slips her arms around your waist.

As you wrap your own around her shoulders, it suddenly dawns on you that Ellie hadn’t asked for a hug because she needed one—but because she realized that you needed one.

A minute or two passes and Ellie doesn’t let you go.

An emotional lump rises to the back of your throat and you bury your face into her soft brown hair, warm tears brimming your eyes and threatening to fall.

“Ellie,” you croak her name, trying to warn her.

“It’s okay,” she assures you. She rests her head on your chest over your heartbeat. She hears it pounding, feels it thrumming against her cheekbone.

She holds you tightly and you finally break, choking a sob into her hair. As your body shudders in her arms, she squeezes you harder, almost as if she’s trying to somehow hug your pain away.

For the first time in two years, you’re finally allowing yourself to cry in front of someone else—for the first time in two years, you don’t feel completely alone.

Suddenly, the front door of the house swings open in such an aggressive manner that it startles you apart from one another.

“Jesus Christ,” Joel breathes, letting out a sigh of relief as he descends the porch steps. “Ellie, what the hell are you doin’ out of bed at two o’ clock in the goddamn mornin’? I went to check up on you and you were gone! Scared the fuckn’ shit outta me—” He stops abruptly when he finally realizes she’s not alone. He steps closer and even in the darkness, he sees the tears you’re trying to wipe away. “What’s the matter? What happened?”

“Nothing,” you say, quickly. “Sorry, Joel. She was with me. We were just at my house talking out on my front porch and we lost track of time—”

He cuts you off. “Why are you cryin’?”

Ellie’s eyes helplessly bounce between the two of you.

“Joel, it’s nothing. I promise it’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“The hell you are.” Joel turns to Ellie. “Go inside and get to bed. Go on now.”

“But Joel—”

He pins her with a stern look and she sighs. She gives you one more hug, a quick one, before disappearing inside the house, closing the door behind her.

“C’mere darlin’,” Joel murmurs, taking your hand in his. He leads you up the steps of his porch. The light is off, but the moon and stars light up the night sky bright enough that you’re able to make out the concern written all over his face. Joel keeps your hand in his own as he guides you to sit down on the porch swing he’d built and hung for Ellie. He sits down beside you. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” you fib again.

“Really?” He hums. “‘Cause those tears are tellin’ me a whole different story.”

You can’t help but wonder if Ellie had always been stubborn—or if she’d picked it up from Joel. The latter wouldn’t surprise you.

“I had a fight with Luke. It was on my mind and I couldn’t sleep, so I stepped outside to try and clear my head a little bit,” you explain to him, keeping everything as vague as possible. “I was sitting on my porch—Ellie couldn’t sleep either and was taking a walk when she saw me. She noticed I’d been crying and offered to keep me company for a while.”

“You had a fight with Luke,” he repeats.

“Joel—”

“Why did you two fight? He do somethin’ to you?”

You sigh. “He said something to me he knew would hit a nerve,” you tell him, hoping it’s enough of an explanation for him. “I got upset and said something stupid to him that I really shouldn’t have and we got into an argument.”

Joel squeezes your hand, momentarily hesitating.

You’re almost afraid to ask, but you do anyway. “What?”

“Are you happy with him?”

You stare at him. “I beg your pardon?”

“Don’t think I stuttered, peach. I asked if you’re happy with him.”

Pulling your hand out of Joel’s, you stand up and walk over to the wooden railing that circles his porch. You look across the road, fixing your eyes on the front door of a neighboring house.

When Ellie had asked you that question, it’d been fairly innocent.

But now that it’s Joel asking you, it’s different.

You hear the sound of his footsteps coming up behind you and swallow harshly. Slowly, you turn around to face him, though you hadn’t realized he had been so close. Your eyes meet his chest, clad in the same navy blue shirt he’d been wearing when you had dropped off your father’s guitar.

Nervously, they flicker up to meet his. “Luke is my husband, Joel.”

Joel echoes Ellie’s words. “You didn’t answer the question.”

Like father, like daughter.

“We’re fine, Joel. Our marriage is fine. Alright?”

Scoffing, he shakes his head. “Still didn’t answer the question.”

“What does it matter to you?” you challenge him. You’re certain you know the answer to your own question. Still, part of you, the part that lacks all common sense, wants to hear it from his own mouth. You need to hear it from him.

“I think you know why, darlin’.” He takes a step closer. He’s now standing so close that his chest touches yours.

“Joel—” You stop, unsure of what to say.

“Tell me to back off,” Joel utters the same words he’d said to you back at the stables. He leans down, inching closer and closer to you. “Please. I need you to tell me to back off right now before I do somethin’ stupid.”

You try to oblige—you really, really try to do what he’s asking of you. But you can’t.

You don’t want to.

Your heart pounds and you can hear the roar of your own blood rushing in your ears as the adrenaline shoots through your veins.

He hasn’t even touched you yet.

“Please,” Joel nearly pleads. “Tell me to back off.”

“I can’t,” you admit, sounding as weak as you feel. “I can’t do that, Joel.”

“Why not?”

“I think you know why,” you reply, parroting his own words back to him.

He inches closer and your breaths fall from your lips in tiny, pathetic little pants. Your chest heaves as you try to steady them, but it’s useless. There’s no masking the effect he has on you, no hiding how he’s making you feel.

Joel gingerly takes the side of your face and cradles your cheek in his palm. “Baby.”

It’s ironic. Just hours ago, Luke had struck you there in a painful slap and now here is Joel, holding it so softly and so gently in his hand. His touch is comforting, it’s soothing—somehow you already know it has the power to heal the wounds you thought you’d have to live with for the rest of your life.

His other hand moves to your hip and he pulls you in even closer to him. He leans in and presses his lips to yours lightly, carefully, as if he’s testing the waters before allowing himself to take the plunge into the deep end. The moment he feels you melt right into his hands, his tongue sweeps across your bottom lip, silently asking you permission for more.

Eager, your mouth parts for him and he backs you into the wooden railing as he kisses you deeper, with fervor. Your hands slide up his chest, past his wide shoulders, and tangle themselves in his soft, graying curls.

Groaning, Joel tears his mouth away from yours and pins you between himself and the railing, his lips meeting the sensitive flesh of your neck and latching on in desperation. He pushes your robe off your shoulders and it falls to the ground with a soft thud. Your breath catches in your throat as his warm, calloused hands slide up the hem of your shirt and up the length of your sides, his fingers gliding across your smooth skin.

“Joel,” you faintly whimper his name, your hands falling back down onto his shoulders. You grasp them, holding on as if you’re holding onto dear life itself.

You can’t help but imagine what it would be like to feel those hands roam and explore the entirety of your body, touching every last inch of skin you have to offer him. Your mind wanders even further and you wonder how your name would sound rolling off of his tongue while he’s buried inside of you, making you his own.

“You really ain’t gonna tell me to back off,” he mumbles the realization into the hollow of your neck. Inhaling deeply, he commits your scent to memory—the sweet, subtle, fragrance of homemade milk and honey bath soap blends together with the delicate lavender from the calming salve you smother yourself in every night before bed.

“No,” you exhale the world shakily. “I’m not. Because I don’t want you to back off.”

Joel pushes one of his hands further up your shirt, cupping one of your breasts and eliciting another whimper as he kneads the soft mound of flesh, a thumb brushing over your hard nipple. His other hand moves around your waist and he holds you close as his teeth scrape across your collarbone, nipping at it lightly.

He silently reminds himself to be careful not to leave behind marks. He can’t send you home to your husband covered in evidence.

Withdrawing his hand from underneath your shirt, he drags it down to the waistband of your thin, cotton blue shorts. His index finger skims along the elastic.

“Joel,” you mewl his name into his chest, thighs clenching together as the arousal pools between them, drenching your panties.

Surely he has to know what he’s doing to you by now.

“What is it, my little peach?” he asks, humming against your collarbone. “What do you what?”

You dig your fingernails into his shoulders in a silent plea.

“Y’gotta tell me what you want, baby,” Joel murmurs quietly. “Ain’t doin’ anythin’ unless you tell me you want me to. Use your words, sweet girl.”

“Touch me, Joel. Please, I need you to touch me. I need you to fucking touch me,” you beg him in a low, husky voice you don’t even recognize.

Slotting his lips against yours, he does as you ask him and slips his hand down the front of your bottoms. He groans into the kiss the second he makes contact with your heat. “Fuckin’ Christ,” he curses quietly, his eyes snapping open and meeting yours in the moonlight. “Baby, you’re soakin’ wet. This all for me, sweetheart?”

You exhale sharply as he drags his index finger along your entrance—it’s then followed by a loud, audible gasp when he pushes it into your throbbing cunt.

“Joel,” you moan, prompting him to quickly cover your mouth with his once again, swallowing the noise.

After a moment, Joel pulls away slightly and warns, “Can’t be too loud, darlin’. Kid can’t see us, but I’m willin’ to bet she’s got her ear pressed against the door tryin’ to eavesdrop. Gonna need you to be a real good girl and stay quiet for me, alright?”

You nod, biting down on your lip.

“Good.” He pushes a second finger into your pussy, relishing in how deliciously tight you feel around his digits. He can only imagine how heavenly you would feel wrapped around something else of his.

You sink your teeth harder into your lip and swallow back a moan as he curls his fingers inside of you in an upward, come hither motion, brushing against a spot in your body you didn’t even know existed. Joel withdraws them ever so slightly, then thrusts them back into you, intensifying the flames deep in your lower belly.

“Fuck, peach. Gotta fuckin’ taste you, darlin’,” he mutters as he pulls his hand away from you and takes a step backwards, giving himself enough space to sink down onto his knees.

Realizing what he means, you open your eyes and quickly stop him, pulling him back up his feet. “Joel. Wait.”

He frowns—had you changed your mind?

“What’s the matter?”

“No one’s ever—I’ve never had anyone do that to me before.” Blazing heat scorches your cheeks as you make the admission.

Joel scoffs in disbelief. “You’re kiddin’ me, right?”

Embarrassed, you shake your head. “No. I’m not.”

He leans forward and his lips brush against the shell of your ear, making you shiver as he whispers lustfully, “Will you let me make you feel good, sweetheart?”

Your insecurities make you hesitate—but your need for him is bigger than your fears, it’s bigger than the anxieties that stem from your lack of experience. Pulling away, you meet his gaze and nod. “Please.”

Joel drops down to one knee in front of you. He hooks his fingers underneath the elastic band of your shorts and slides them down your legs along with your cotton panties. He carefully frees one of your ankles from the articles of clothing and proceeds to drape your leg over his shoulder. He peppers a trail of soft kisses along the inside of your thigh, his beard scratching at the tender flesh there. As he draws closer and closer to where where he’s aching to be, the tip of his nose brushes lightly against your cunt and he groans your name quietly underneath his breath. He’s already intoxicated—if the scent of your sex is this fucking sweet, he’s willing to bet his life that the taste of you is going to be something beyond his wildest imagination.

You don’t trust yourself not to collapse on top of him. Reaching behind yourself, you grip the railing and your fingers claw at the wood, running the risk of painful splinters. But you don’t even think about that. You can’t think about anything except Joel Miller being on his knees in front of you.

He glances up at you and asks, “You sure ‘bout this, baby?”

“Yes,” you reply, already breathless. “I’m sure.”

He spreads your legs further and moves his head to the apex of your thighs, his mouth, hungry and searing, meeting your cunt. Nose buried in tufts of damp, silky soft curls, Joel slips his tongue between your glistening folds, flattening it out as he slowly drags it forward, savoring the taste of your slick. One of your hands abandons the railing and buries itself into his hair, your fingernails lighty scraping at his scalp. Your knee shakes and you fight to keep yourself upright, but with the way Joel’s ravishing your pussy, it’s only a matter of time before he brings you down. He moans into you, devours you like a man starved—a man who wouldn’t dare leave any part of you not licked, not sucked, not kissed. He swallows everything you have to offer him, drinks it down like it’s water.

“Oh fuck,” you gasp, hearing the audible slurping coming from underneath you. It’s a sheer pleasure you’ve never experienced before—a pleasure you didn’t even know was possible. You’d never been touched like this before. Tasted like this before.

Joel wraps his lips around your clit, taking extra care to give plenty of his attention to the swollen bundle of nerves as he slides two thick fingers into your pussy, stretching your walls.

“Fuck—Joel,” you whisper, willing yourself not to be too loud. He begins thrusting them in and out of you, gradually increasing his pace until the squelching sound of him finger fucking you breaks the calm, quiet silence of the night. All the while, his mouth remains latched onto your clit. Combined with the strokes of his fingers, the way they hit that soft, sensitive spongy spot inside your cunt, you’re approaching a release you’ve only ever give yourself when you were home alone. “God, that feels so fucking good, Joel. Don’t stop, please don’t fucking stop—”

And he doesn’t.

As desperate as you are, his own desperation tops it.

You’re dripping around his fingers, wetness slowly trickling down the palm of his hand, dribbling down to his wrist. Joel keeps his pace, but his tongue flattens over your clit in firm, broad strokes. He lifts his other arm and hooks it around your trembling thigh, holding you firmly in place as your body involuntarily tries squirming away from him. He keeps you right where he needs you, his face still buried in your cunt.

The pressure that’s been building between your hips nears its peak—there isn’t a single part of you that isn’t aching for that sweet, sweet release. “Joel, fuck, I’m gonna—I’m so fucking close.”

He tears his mouth away from you and looks up, whispering, “C’mon, baby. C’mon. Come for me,” he whispers hoarsely. “Wanna feel this sweet little pussy squeeze my fingers.”

You sink your teeth hard into your bottom lip to keep yourself from crying out his name. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, feels different than the orgasms you’d give yourself,��better than the orgasms you would give yourself—after coming on his fingers, coming on your own won’t ever be the same. The muscles in your stomach tense, and then an explosion follows, sending you tumbling over the edge as you fall apart right in the palm of his hand. He slows his pace as he helps you right through the tumultuous wave of pleasure that crashes over you.

Unable to hold yourself steady any longer, you feel the leg that’s supporting your weight buckle and if it wasn’t for Joel’s hands flying to your hips, you would have collapsed to the floor.

“S’alright baby, I got you,” he reassures as he holds you up. “I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

Joel feathers his last few kisses on the inside of your thigh, leaving a trail of burning fire behind in his wake. He then pulls your underwear and shorts up your legs back into place before rising to his feet with a small, labored grunt. Taking you in his arms, he pulls your body flush against his as he kisses you, allowing you to get a taste of yourself on his lips. It’s foreign but intoxicating, and it makes you drip for him all over again.

As he holds you even closer, you feel his cock brush against your hip and you moan. You squeeze an arm between your bodies and eagerly cup him in the palm of your hand through his gray sweatpants, eliciting a groan from him as he licks into your mouth. He’s hard for you and all you want is to see him, taste him, feel him.

Breaking away from his embrace, you start to sink down to your knees when his hands catch your shoulders and pull you back up to your feet.

“You ain’t gotta do that,” he whispers, tucking a loose lock of your hair behind your ear. “You don’t owe me anythin’ back, alright?”

“I know I don’t, but I want to,” you insist, batting your eyelashes. Tugging your lip between your teeth, you give him an innocent face that almost makes him come on on the spot. “I really, really want to.”

Joel takes your hands in his. “I believe you, peach. I do. But tonight, all I wanted—all I needed was to take care of you. Make you feel good. That’s it. We can worry ‘bout me another night.”

Another night. It takes you a minute to realize what he means.

He wants to keep seeing you. Like this.

In secret. In the dead of night, when nobody else is around.

You glance up at him, lips parted slightly in surprise. Then, your eyes flicker down to your hands, still in his, your stomach sinking when your wedding band gleams in the moonlight, garnering your attention. It’s not because you feel guilty, but rather, it’s only a frustrating reminder that you belong to Luke. He would never set you free, not in this lifetime. He’d rather see you six feet under the ground than allow you to end your marriage.

Stolen moments and clandestine meetings in the middle of the night were all you could ever have with Joel Miller.

The man you’re falling for too hard, too fast.

Joel’s thinking the same. He’s not an idiot. He knows that you’re not happy in your marriage, but even so, there’s not a chance in hell Luke’s going to be willing to let you go—much less to be with another man. He remembers the night at the party, the way Luke held you possessively, marked his territory and made it known you’re his. Not his wife, but his property.

He hooks an index finger underneath your chin, bringing your eyes back up to meet his. “Need to ask you somethin’ and I’m gonna need you to be real honest with me, darlin’. Alright?”

Nervously, you nod. “Okay,” you reply, tentatively. “What is it?”

“He ever hurt you, sweet girl?”

A chill runs down the length of your spine. In the steadiest voice you can muster, you ask, “What are you talking about, Joel?”

He clocks the way you stiffen, feels your discomfort. “Luke. He ever put his hands on you or anythin’ like that?”

Your throat goes dry like sandpaper.

Does he know something?

No, that’s impossible.

He’d only ever seen you with Luke once.

“No, of course not,” you lie to him, furiously shaking your head. “We do fight a lot, but he’s never gotten physical with me.”

Suspicious, Joel peers at you. “You tellin’ me the truth, peach?”

No, I’m not! I’m trapped in a fucking nightmare of a marriage and I can’t do anything about it.

You want to take him by his shirt, curl it in your fists and shout it in his face. There isn’t a single part of you that doesn’t want to confess everything to him, tell him about the hell Luke’s been putting you through since your father passed away. But you know better than that. You know that if Joel ever finds out, he’ll go straight to Tommy and Maria

Or worse.

He’ll go straight to Luke himself.

After everything Ellie had told you about him from their journey across the country, you now have a clear idea of just what Joel Miller is capable of, the lengths he would go to just to protect the people he cares about.

“I am,” you finally answer, looking him straight in the eye. “I’m telling the truth. I swear.”

You can see it. Feel it.

Joel doesn’t believe you.

Without an admission, though, he doesn’t have much choice but to nod his head, accepting the lie. “Alright.”

“I don’t want to talk about him anymore,” you mumble, taking your hands out of his. You place them on his chest and look up at him through the thickness of your eyelashes. “We might not always get a lot of alone time together, Joel. So what little time we do get together, I don’t want to waste a single second of it by talking about him. Okay?”

Joel wraps his arms around your waist. “Okay,” he agrees with another nod.

Something tells him that you’re protecting Luke and he doesn’t know why.

But there is one thing that he does know.

If he ever catches wind of what Luke is doing to you behind closed door, Joel’s going to fucking kill him.

#joel miller series #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller angst #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x original character #joel miller x oc #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal characters #joel miller imagine #fic: a safe haven #fic: ash

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shepherds-of-haven · 9 months ago

Note

I think the other shepherds should get to tease red mercilessly about getting back together with mc, as a treat

I can't decide if everyone would rag on them mercilessly, or if some would think it too sensitive a topic to go too hard about lol, kind of like a low blow... Imagine Red and MC are officially a couple and MC's like "did you bring that thing I asked you to bring?" Red: "oh shoot, no, I forgot" Chase: 🗣️ "you should break up with him again!"

#ruff lol #Shepherds of Haven #Red #Red Antiqua #silly #but I CAN imagine them teasing him mercilessly in the pining stage!

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kth1fics · 1 year ago

Text

Safe Haven (M) | PJM

Safe Haven

⟶ Pairing: Park Jimin x Female Reader ⟶ Genre: royalty, smut, 18+ ⟶ Tropes: forbidden love au, medieval royal au, royal king’s guard werewolf!jimin ⟶ WC: 16.2k+ ⟶ Warnings: mild birth scene mention (hardly any details!), mentions of d*ath, brief fighting/attacking descriptions, blood mentions, hair pulling (when attacked), weapons mentioned, poison/venom mention, random side character d*aths, soft pining, kisses, fingering, oral (f), unprotected sex, etc ⟶ Beta: Sarah bean! @caelesjjk ⟶ Summary: When a wolf protects the royal family for many years, he’s faced with one special princess who he’ll do anything for. ⟶ Author’s Note: Apart of the “To Love a Monster” collab! I took a long while to get this fic out – and I am sorry for those who have been waiting for it. It may take me months to write and readers minutes to read, but I do hope that this fic holds a special place in someone’s heart in the end! Please enjoy & leave some feedback if you have the time! ⟶ Song Recommendation: Bound to You by Christina Aguilera

Masterlist ◈ Mail Box ◈ AO3 ◈ Ko-Fi

Freshly welcomed into the King’s Guard, Jimin, a sprouting young wolf, rushes around the corridors of the castle to obey the barking orders of his higher-ups. Making haste, all servants and guards make their purpose of assisting the Queen.

“Hurry!” Hoseok, another royal guard and close friend to Jimin, shuffles through the utility room. “Gather more cloth!”

“Aren’t people usually more prepared with things like this?” Jimin frantically follows, his voice rushed with the fast pace movements.

“I’m afraid not,” Hoseok huffs a laugh.

The two younger royal guards speedily ransack each drawer and closet until their arms are full of materials. They stumble back down the hall towards the birthing chamber. A room enclosed for the parties who participate with the anticipated arrival of the next royal kin. A domestic, darkened room provided with the country's softest furnishings. Royal officials and servants are permitted to be within the room for the delivery to ensure that there are no scandals around the birthing practice.

A midwife places herself before the legs of the Queen. A moan of pain rips from her Highness’s throat. Jimin and Hoseok stand idly as the birthing of child number three crowns at the entrance of the world, preparing to gain its first breath of fresh air. The scene is natural for humans, even more common for a royal to carry out in front of an audience.

For Jimin, he prefers not to stare like the others. His polished amber eyes trail to the lines of the floorboards, using any peripheral view for his advantage.

“It’s a girl!” He hears the cries from a newborn baby, the declaration announced by the midwife who’s wiping off residue from the infant.

Placed on the chest of her mother, the newest child of the royals whines freely. The sound rings through the ears who listen. The King is joyous, regardless of being unable to create a proper heir to his throne. But with the first two daughters – and now third, the royal guards know his Highness will move quickly in trying for a son.

Servants flutter about, handling the delicacies of aftercare for childbirth. Jimin follows after his friend, handing off the pile of cloth to a maiden. Bodies move around another like an assembly line.

For a moment, and only a moment is needed, did Jimin finally take a swift glance at the newborn who screams her upset. He locks eyes with the infant over the shoulder of Hoseok, seeing a warmth of an everlasting hearth as she cries wet droplets down her face.

Then it happened.

Jimin is struck with something that is indescribable. Something that couldn’t be defined. He’s heard through stories and lores within his lineage that this phenomenon could happen to anyone at any time in one's life. He hears about it through those he’s close to and those who experience it. It’s a once in a lifetime deal.

He can feel the shift of his weight when he locks eyes with the newborn baby. As if this new formed motion represents an outstanding astronomical level. Where his world, which once revolved around the Sun as it does for everyone, now revolves around this small, fragile child.

Jimin’s heartbeat thumps in his ears as the world freezes around him. Hoseok and the other royal wolf guards all sense a change in the wind. If it isn’t Hoseok ushering him out of the way of the other servants and departing out of the chamber, he’s sure the royal family would have done it themselves.

With his head on a silver platter.

Hoseok’s palm slaps the side of Jimin’s cheek to gain his consciousness from whatever daze he’s fumbled in. It takes him a few good taps before Jimin blinks. His blood runs rampant inside him with warmth and excitement.

The second Jimin looked at the third child of the royal household, everything changed within him. All of a sudden, nothing else matters. The yearning of knowing and willing to do anything, be anything, for her is the only constant demand singing at the back of his head.

“You didn’t,” Hoseok’s hushed tone stays low. “Not a royal!”

“How am I supposed to control that?” Jimin stresses. “I can’t choose who this happens to! I didn’t expect this to happen to me!” He runs a hand through his soft hair, exhaling sharply as his mind begins to race.

“You’re going to learn,” Hoseok claims. His eyes are sharp and narrow. “You will learn to control it. A wolf is not allowed to be mixed with a royal. They’ll kill you.”

His imprint will be kept secret from the royals and the precious baby girl. But for his wolf mates, each of them knows the severity of the situation. Not one member will speak of it, they only can respect it. As for Jimin, he’ll spend the rest of her life – your life – being what you need him to be. A friend, a brother, a protector. Whatever you require of him, he will act accordingly in secrecy while obeying his rightful duties to the royal throne.

White flurries fall slowly from the gray clouds above, decorating the large courtyard, you look down towards the sheet of fresh snow. Most of the garden that blooms the most gorgeous flowers is now a mess of dead plants and weeds. The bare trees stand firm. But those who stand strong in the winter months like hollies with red berries and camellias, continue to stand out next to the beauty of sheared evergreens and deciduous shrubs with colorful stems.

Your eyes are not trained on admiring the bright snow that cascades from the sky so beautifully. Normally you would. As you sit by your glass window with a blanket around your shoulders, you look down from your chambers on the third level of the castle to fancy something different.

Men – some of the royal guards – play around with one another in the cold weather. Some have shifted to their wolven form, others remain in their noble suits. The one you fixate your stare on is your personal guard, Jimin.

He stands leaning against the stone staircase beside a few of his equals. Chatting away about who knows what, watching the others roughhouse. Jimin is quite handsome, he always has been. For as long as you can remember he’s looked the same, minus the fluctuation of hair styles and added tattoos that linger his body and a few added battle scars.

As a guard he wears your family's sigil proudly – a lotus flower – on each of his articles of clothing. Customized into each of the guards’ crested plates of metal armor and sewn into each leather hide.

Jimin possesses the unfair mix of unlimited masculine and feminine traits, having a soft-looking composure and full lips plus a sharp jawline and toned muscles. His voice is nearly angelic when speaking in hushed tones but also stern as ever when he leads with his strong confidence. He may not be as large as his fellow wolves, but he’s proven himself countless times to your family to have the privilege to be your personal guard. There’s nobody quite like him; no one you’ve met in your life that is.

You commend him in silence, appreciating what you can watch from afar. Even from a distance behind a glass window, he somehow manages to make your heart race. An infatuation some may call it. A yearning. He and your family have been consistent in your life, he’s comfort – as are they. But you knew from a young age, from when you began favoring Jimin’s company over others, that you need to call it ‘nothing’. Because whatever feelings that spin deep inside you are never to be spoken aloud. It’s foolish for your Kingdom, family, and you to long for a wolf who doesn’t see you as anything but a duty.

What’s more disappointing is that you don’t need to admit these infuriating feelings to Jimin, he already knows. He would never allow it to get far by cutting you short and being curt with clipped words and disapproving looks.

He is a wolf and you are a royal. Two beings who have no business intertwining besides with loyalty to the family and the job of a guard. Your acquaintanceship between another is only going to be professional. Perhaps it’s to keep the bloodline pure, untainted. How every sibling of the family is betrothed to a neighboring kingdom, growing the alliance across countries. And not one of them has a blend of wolf’s blood in them. Even though werewolves are evident in the world around you.

“Aren’t you supposed to get ready for the party tonight?” A maid who's making your bed quips up as you're daydreaming down into the evergreen.

“I’ve been stuck on deciding which dress I should wear.”

“No, you’ve been stuck staring out into the courtyard,” she corrects.

You slump in your seat as you stubbornly hold your position by the window. When you look back down, you admire the off-brown and black tones of that particular wolf you fancy. She isn’t wrong, you know. His kind eyes and kind smiles make you feel warmth like no other, and you enjoy seeing them when you gain the chance.

“I can multitask,” you feebly argue. You drag the blanket tighter around your shoulders, keeping in the warmth of your body as much as possible. “Besides, the party isn’t for a few more hours.”

“Princess, you already have guests arriving. Half the guard is at the entrance welcoming the parties who show up early. Let’s not begin to mention how several potential suitors are arriving today. You’ve failed to marry even when betrothed. Such a shame what happened with the Jeon family.”

“I prefer not to be a royal. It doesn’t feel right the way we work,” you sigh as the joyful wolves down below have fun while you’re stuck in your tower with envy. “Can we braid my hair the way we did at my Aunt’s wedding? It cascaded down beautifully.” You speak while staring out of the window, purposely ignoring the heavier topic your maid mentions. “I’ll go with the silver dress. That one that comes with the gorgeous fur shawl.”

You notice the way that Jimin has suddenly turned to look up toward your window, half expecting to see you through the glass. Even in the midst of his comrades, he finds a way to give you an ounce of attention. He shakes his head momentarily, already scolding you without knowing what you’re supposed to be doing. Jimin knows looking for him isn’t on your agenda, you purposely put him there.

“For me to do that,” – you hear the voice of your maid – “I need you to get out of your chair and into your washroom.”

A small frown carves into your face when Jimin circles his finger in the air and directs you to turn around, go back to your business. He knows he’s escorting you tonight at the party, you will see him later. To make his point come across sternly, he disassociates his eye contact – bringing his attention back to his other peers and away from you.

“Princess,” your maid bids you once again.

Reluctant to leave your post at the window, you stand up regardless. You have a long night ahead of you while the castle starts to fill up with guests for your younger brother’s birthday party.

You can’t be bothered with the chattering staff or the nuisance of guests who flutter around the halls of your family’s castle. Each moment you find open to run away, to a quieter place and away from their eyes, you take it. Swiftly moving left and right until you can find your favorite spots to hide since you were a child.

One of which happens to be past the hallway of family portraits. If you travel far enough you find yourself at a dead end. With cabinets, paintings, and curtains outlining every inch of the stone walls. Torches are lit to illuminate the surrounding areas, bringing light to the beautiful surroundings.

But little do most know, that behind painting number two – the one in the golden frame with green shrubbery and a little boy playing the flute – lies a secret behind it. You just need to get here without anyone seeing you sneak in. There’s no point in a secret hideout if you accidentally show it to other guests.

You wait for the time, seeing when that end of the hall becomes vacant and people rush toward the call of the buffet lines. The small talk you make with a few distant relatives is only an act, pretending to walk along with them but slipping away when you find your moment to.

Pressing lightly, the nook of a room behind the large painting greets you. It’s closet sized, filled with a few pieces of your past and littered in dust from lack of touch. Tarps are draped over unused furniture; you’re thankful that this hideout is never really used. The painting that acts as a door allows you a small peeping eyehole to look out and judge when you can come out.

The silver dress you picked for tonight's gathering is a smart choice for you; you’re able to sit down comfortably without restriction. You love the look of a free-flowing gown, falling nicely with the way you walk. Patting off a layer of dust from a chair, you’re able to seat yourself as you take an old notebook in your hand.

Small doodles linger on the pages, all drawn by your younger self. You remember each of them, no matter how terrible they may look. It’s how you pass time while hiding in here. The low lighting from the cracks of the portrait gives you most of your light source, and occasionally you will add flame to the candle that rests on the top of the desk beside you.

You scowl at the dried black ink next to the quill pen, the feather beaten up and torn. It’s been years since you’ve last touched it. Maybe browsing through all the pages of your books won’t be so bad as you loiter in your small den.

“Princess Y/n.”

A spark of panic zaps through you like lightning in the sky on a stormy day. Surprised by the voice of none other than Jimin, your personal royal guard. You watch as fingers curl around the edge of the portrait-door and a beautiful, yet stern, face peeks through. His amber eyes catch you as they squint at your mischievous behavior.

“I knew you would be hiding somewhere.” He comments as he pushes himself through the opening and into the room. Jimin wears the guards festive wear, a beautiful pink etched coat with cream leather hide armor. He’s sure to close the door behind him; he’s more stealthy than you can ever be. “Are you upset?”

“No,” you turn your head back to the book in your hands. The weight of his gaze on you is nearly suffocating. “I simply wanted solitude.”

“You know you are to be returned. They’re calling upon your brother shortly for his ceremony. It’s a big event for him,” his tone is low but he maintains a soft tenor to it. Jimin is far too kind toward you even though he’s meant to be a guard and nothing more. His exterior has toughened over the years, as it should to fill his part. Although, the sweeter half of him sticks out to you and perhaps that’s what you’ve held onto all these years.

“Sadly, I know.” You shut your eyes and sigh heavily, “I’m not quite in the celebratory mood. I would much prefer to be in my chambers.”

“That’s selfish of you.” Jimin’s hand comes to take away your book, placing it on the desk where it belongs. He bends down to level his face with yours. “You should be happy for your brother, he’s of age to carry out duties now. To be what he needs to be. Something you should understand.”

You hear the underlying hint Jimin gives you. He’s softly scolding you, as usual.

At first you say nothing in response. Downcasting your eyes to your empty hands as you think what can be said to counter him, but you draw nothing.

You’re the third child in the family of four. A role where you feel invisible and forgotten. Always having second bests and hand-me-downs. Once your brother, who is a few years younger than you, sprouted from the womb of your mother – all chances of your favor flew out the window. As a male in this royal world is keen, any daughter is denied the spotlight. But you never craved a place to rule, or to do what a princess must do. Your oldest sister, the most responsible one of all, desires that for herself. You see it in the way she presents herself. Aces every test and diplomacy role she is given.

The second oldest is the fairest, she didn't need to do much to gain the popularity or attention she is given. It comes so unfairly natural to her thanks to the outstanding looks she’s been blessed with. A privilege only few and far between are given. Life for her is as simple as breathing, all she needs to do is point and ask.

Your younger brother is everything that your father waited for. Of course, your father, the King, treats all his children with love and passion. Keeps you sheltered, fed, and protected. However, the moment he received a bouncing baby boy – that tears any favoritism away from you or your sisters. A male has an unfair advantage in the royal family, it’s just how the world is.

“Princess –”

“– I know,” you unwillingly stand up from your chair. Jimin straightens himself as well, taken aback by your swift movement. “I want to retire after his ceremony,” you say curtly.

You take a single step toward the door as your hand reaches out to push against it, Jimin’s hand grabs your wrist gently, like catching a delicate rose. Softly, he lowers your arm down as he steps before you with a concerned look on his face. His eyes search for signs of distress on your face.

“You’re upset,” he affirms.

“Nothing works in my favor,” you address with a choleric tone. Anger isn’t something you want resting on the surface, but it’s leaking out of the seams of your composure. “Sometimes, I truly despise being a royal daughter.”

You stare at the digits wrapped around your wrist, noticing how Jimin hasn’t let go of you yet. It feels cruel how you wish there was more meaning to the contact. Why can’t he hold you the way you long for him to?

Your eyes meet his with confusion and sadness. The pretty amber color still stands out in the low lighting, they’re beautiful to stare at. But you can’t read what’s going on in his mind.

Jimin feels your sadness. He is connected to you deeply, little do you know. You can never know. It’s safer this way. Slowly, he releases your wrist letting his fingertips be the last thing that brushes against your skin. He can only comfort you so much without overstepping his boundaries. If he capsizes every time you give him those hopeless eyes, he’ll lose his placement in the guard and lose you indefinitely.

“Please,” he breathes, “We must go.”

Jimin pushes the hatch open steadily, peering out through the eyehole to make sure the coast is clear to sneak back into the festivities. He leaves space between the two of you as you walk side-by-side.

Silent tension surrounds you as your heels click with every step you take. There’s a dullness in your eyes, a lack of enthusiasm the closer you approach the center of the party. The amount of people here drains you even as you wear a kind smile.

Your little brother’s coronation will go quickly, you hope. Jimin’s words resound in your head, causing you to reflect on what he said.

“That’s selfish of you.”

You make your way to your designated chair at the family table quietly. The talks and commotions between the castle’s guests, family from far and wide, don’t phase you as you blur out the noise. The red liquid poured graciously in a chalice beside you becomes your saving grace; your delicate fingers grasp the cup and run over the smooth jewels embedded on the sides.

Your eyes find Jimin’s across the crowded room as he stands on guard near one of the walls. His hand rests over the handle of his sword casually, a weapon they choose first before shifting as a last resort. He can read the longing in your eyes with a mix of desperation and gloom.

You wait to see his expected disapproving look. The one that tells you to pay attention to something else other than him – but you don’t. He stuns you confused as, instead of his typical stern look, he looks down at the ground. Deep in thought.

Are you truly selfish when nobody around you is selfless?

Your chamber is a sanctuary. Filled with all the necessities you need to live like royalty. An abundant amount of candles have been lit to brighten the room, giving it a soft aura.

You wear your hair down, untied from the tight braids you wore for the majority of the night. Your nightgown, cream in color and silk to the touch, is loose in all the right places. The ceremony took its time as you waited to retire for the night with the little patience you have left. You’re positive plenty of men are still celebrating at their feast.

Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.

A loud thud shakes the doors to your room, a verbal grunt can be heard. You look over at your maid who does the same as she slowly walks toward the noise. There's a scurry of traffic beyond your door as the two of you try to make out the words that are being shouted. You take a step with her, but with that single step you catch a glimpse of something out of the corner of your eye. Through the window you see a flash of red light. Smoke rises as pieces of the garden have been lit to flame. Upon closer inspection, you peer down your window into the once beautiful scenery to find brawls of fights. Men fighting enemies with swords, crossbows and guns.

Another thump hits the outside of your chamber’s doors and you twist your head to see your maid inches away from the handle, ready to pull.

“Don’t!” You turn frantic to shout at her.

But it is too late. Your maid already has her hand twisting the handle to pull the door open. But a force pressed the door faster than she anticipated – a body of a man standing guard slumped against the doorframe and now falling to the floor. A wound across his neck as blood smears across your family’s sigil on his leather chest plate.

Both you and your maid screech at the sight as you back away from the door. You can hear the commotion louder now as bodies rush past the halls as they run away from the intruders.

“Hide!” Your maid shoos you quickly and frantically while her first attempt of shutting your chamber’s door fails.

You’re not given a moment to think before you watch as two ruffians walk up to the door, one holding a flamed torch and a hand dagger as the other holds a handgun. They’re dirty from appearance, wearing torn up clothes but come armed with weapons that look like they belong to someone wealthy. They smile evilly, curling their lips at the sight of you as they advance on your maid.

“There’s a royal,” one comments in a ghoulish tone. They step over the body below them like it’s a fallen tree trunk. They laugh among each other, giggling at whatever is playing on in their minds. You definitely do not wish to know.

Your maid twists away, hoisting her skirt up high enough to let her legs lounge as she begins to run toward you. It provokes one of the men, making him chase her immediately as he finds it funny to stalk her. Threaten her with the slices he mimics with his dagger in the air.

Slowly, your feet have backed up along the path of your room. You make sure you keep as much furniture between you and the intruders. Your eyes remain open wide, trying so hard not to blink and miss any sudden movements.

You feel small compared to the man’s stature as he creeps closer and closer to you. Hectically, your hands reach around the tops of dressers and tables to find anything to use as a weapon. A letter opener? A pen? Anything to defend yourself from whoever these men are who impose your safe space.

More screams and shouts can be heard throughout the castle halls and outside. The place is being run down with bandits, unknown persons who you cannot identify from first glance. They wear close to all black attire, worn down from several years. Protected by pads and suitable armor, as if they collected stolen pieces and placed them together.

You hold your arms closer to your body with the heat of the males heavy gaze on you. His eyes look bloodshot as he studies your options of escape.

“Come here little royal,” he sneers while his beaten up boots scuff across the floor.

Your maid is chased across the wall, quickly making her way toward you as the other man follows her like a hunter. Herding his prey together before they set to kill.

They rush the two of you, forcing you to nearly trip over your own feet as your gown betrays you while you step on the very end of it. A small rip of fabric resounds but you’re in too much of a haste to notice from where.

Your maid screams in horror as you yell out for help. Your bodies fumble across the expanse of your chamber’s, trying to find the opportunity to rush out of the door if you can. To escape the men who run after you.

Where are the rest of your guards? What is happening and why are your werewolf guards not attacking? Who are these men and what do they have to attack the castle with? In all your years on this planet, you’ve never been caught in a situation like this. No intruder has ever made it past the front gates until now.

A knife is thrown in your direction, missing you but landing straight into the wall beside your head.

“Oops, guess I need to try that again,” you hear the male speak with malicious intent.

The other has gained enough momentum to grab your maid, pull her in as she struggles to fight him off. He’s rough, holding her arms as he pushes her against the wall. You're already rushing to her side, using your fists to hit the man on his arm and back.

“Get off of her!” you bawl, throwing your fist at him as fast as possible.

A hand grips your hair, yanking you back away from the two and onto the closest table. Your back hits the surface hard as the man presses you down. He threatens you with a dagger pointed at your face as his other hand holds you down by your shoulder.

The brute force immediately makes your eyes water as you stare up at the man in fear. You wrap your hands around his wrists to push him off, holding him off for as long as you can. Your kicks and screams do nothing to phase him, only fuels him.

You feel his hand slide to your throat; latch his ugly, dirty fingers around your neck. It’s brief, like a flash of lightning. But just as soon as he repositions himself, an arrow shoots straight into his head. Visibly shaken, you struggle to process the vicious man above you losing the life he has.

Your efforts of pushing begin to work as his lack of strength weakens by the second. A final push, not made by you – but from your personal guard, Jimin, knocks the man entirely off of you. He’s quick, already primed and prepped to shoot the other ruffian the second he turns away from your maid and to see his comrade passed out on the floor. Jimin launches another arrow with a flick of his finger, a perfect shot.

Both ruthless and merciless men seem to be dead, fallen to the floor of your chamber’s as pools of blood leak from their bodies.

You and your maid tremble in fear and anxiety. Frightened at the series of events and how the two of you were nearly brutally attacked.

Jimin wears streaks of blood across his face as his hair falls out of place. His beautifully tailored festive armor is now beaten and destroyed with stains. You look at him with confusion and anguish as reality sets in.

“Jimin,” you cry out in a broken sob. Your throat tightens and feels as if it’s being pricked by a dozen thorns while your hand runs up to touch the area where the man laid his fingers on.

“I’m sorry,” are the first words out of his mouth. Solemn and saddened. But he’s relieved to be here for you, even if he is cutting it short and close to being a second too late.

It isn’t his fault the castle has been blindsided and an evil group has snuck their way inside its walls and started a reign of terror. But he takes blame for not being at your side every second that he should have been. Instead, he rushed to the frontlines once called upon. Tried to stop the invasion from penetrating deeper into the castle.

In most cases this strategy works, but unfortunately tonight – it doesn’t.

But as the fighting continues and larger groups of people begin rushing in from all areas of the castle – equipped with tainted metals containing mountain ash and wolfsbane – the royal guards are not as prepared. A minor setback, yet it almost costs your life.

“I came as soon as I could,” he steps closer to you with sympathetic eyes. He’s hurt, more worried about how you are as he feels your dread and fear. “I’m so sorry.”

There’s still many battles being fought throughout the castle. People being slayed as guards protect as much as they can. Jimin helps you stand straight, holding you close to him as he’s escorting both your maid and you out of your chamber’s.

“Jimin,” you repeat as you hold onto him, wrapping your hands desperately around him. “Who are they?”

He brings the two of you deeper into your chamber, rushing you to a secret doorway that leads to a hidden passage. Your castle is littered with these; most guards know several entrances but not a lot of exits. It’s a maze down there; dark, cold, and gloomy as well. As a child, you would wander through some just to see how far you could reach without cowering out.

“They must be from the South. They’re fighting with wolfsbane. Their weapons are laced with it.”

It’s common knowledge that wolfsbane is rare near these grounds. It’s ordinary for them to grow down South, but they can be imported. Your family is known for being guarded by werewolves; so an attack like this must be heavily planned.

“Remember the passageways?” Jimin grunts as he pushes both you and your maid toward a panel against the wall. It’s colored like an archway, but the third one can be open with a twist of a lever. Specifically the sconce hanging to the left of it. “I need you to escape through them.”

You hear the falter in Jimin’s voice momentarily, how he sounds like he staggered his breath.

“Are you hurt?” You ask alarmingly. Your eyes frantically scan over his exterior, looking for any noticeable signs of a wound.

“Princess, I need you to go through the passageways,” he turns the lighting fixture swiftly. The secret door clicks open, a cool gust of air puffs through and hits against your skin. “Don’t worry about me. I need to protect you and the rest of your family.”

Your maid understands, already stepping through as she’s pulling you with her. Jimn is a guard, he needs to go and maintain his duty. Your maid is a servant – she is here to assist you until she can no longer. She begs you to step quickly, down the stone stairs into the pit of the passages.

“Jimin, no!” You grip tighter on his forearm as he tries to shrug you off of him. Blood tarnishes your cream colored nightgown as you’re pulled away from Jimin. It must be from those Jimin has fought already. “Come with me!”

Jimin takes your chin in his hand and inspects the distress on your face. Even when rushed, worried about your safety and life, he looks at you like he’s lost in your eyes. The gentle touch of his fingertips feels serene, featherlight even though they’re calloused through the years of combat.

He’s moving you back into the passageway, gripping the door with his other hand to shut it on you when the moment comes. There’s displeasure spilling out of him only because he is infuriated by the way you stubbornly won’t see the concern for yourself.

“I need to protect the family. This is me protecting you,” he speaks sternly. “Please listen to me, princess,” he exhales slowly. His eyes flicker across your features with tenderness, “I am not losing you. Use the passageways,” he reminds you. “Exit at the stables. I will meet you there. You know which way to go?”

You stare at him dumbfounded at first. Like time is slowing down, but you cannot shake the feeling that you won’t see him again. You don’t feel convinced.

“B-But –”

“Go!” Jimin practically growls out his demand to you. In an instant, his amber eyes shine with a blue ring around his irises. It’s the first time Jimin has ever used that timbre with you, making you jolt away with shock.

He warns you to watch your step and stay on the correct path toward the stables. Keep close to your maid and stay quiet. He rips off his cavalier shoulder cape, draping it around your shoulders to keep you warm as you descend into the chilly pathways. Jimin closes the door promptly, forcing you to turn with your maid and to escape to safety. Your heart ricochettes inside your chest, pounding erratically as you rush.

Throughout the narrow hallways, dripping with leaking water spouts and cobwebs, you hear the signs of savage wolf growls and barks as your royal guard begin shifting as their last resort. Cries of pain and fighting scare you further as you follow the lead of your maid, wondering how you’ll survive what comes ahead. The thin slippers still on your feet dampen with every hurried step you take as you hold Jimin’s cape tighter against your frame to stay as warm as possible.

“I am not losing you,” replays inside your head and inside your heart.

Moonlight shines from above as your maid cracks open a hardened rock exitway. You came across many forks in the maze of the castle's passageways, but you remember from your past the correct ways to take. The two of you are at the stables, you can smell the mixture of horse and hay in the air. The area is unhit from the onslaught of violence for now.

“Shall we take a horse?” Your maid suggests as she creeps behind a bundle of stacked hay.

“Jimin said he’ll meet us here,” you remind her.

The chill of the outside runs straight through your body. You curse to yourself at your poor choice of attire.

Together, the two of you watch the distance of all the violence. You see bloodshed with many reinforcements coming from every side of the castle. The thought of Jimin being caught in this mess sends a shiver down your spine. Wolves – your family's guards – have shifted to their creature form. They’re larger than any wild wolf; standing on all four limbs taller than most humans.

They’re very swift at responding to the attackers, taking them out one by one. But you know the attackers are fighting against them with poisonous tactics – an advantage to go against such beasts. With these weapons, the werewolves near invulnerability, speed, and strengths are weakened once hit with the toxins. You can already witness it with a few of your guards.

“We’re still inside the castle walls, Princess. We need to get out of here fast,” she insists. Her eyes scan around for an opening, an escape route for the two of you. You’ll have to be fast.

“He knows we are here!” You yell at her in a hushed tone. “I’m not leaving unless it’s with –”

Just as you attempt to finish your sentence, the loud sound of wood snapping through the entrance door interrupts you. Men rush in, manically screaming in an uproar as the flames of their torches begin touching the fodder in the stables. Setting the straw ablaze in a matter of seconds.

You and your maid slouch back into a corner, away from view for as long as you can. Horses neigh with anger, jumping and kicking as the brightness and heat of fire creeps toward them. You cannot fathom the thought of losing these beautiful warhorses as they’re each tied to their own box.

“Release them,” you whisper to your maid before you frantically get up from your position and reach for the first horse.

Your soft hands flick up the lever to the wooden door, opening it up for the horse to run through and stumble toward the exit of the stables.

The maid begs you to stay hidden, but you refuse with stubbornness. In the same breath, you hear a shriek from her as you are in the midst of lifting another lever. The attackers have noticed her and shortly spot you as well.

She looks at you with panic, “Run!”

In seconds, she is being grabbed once again by these aggressors. Forced down with a hard shove as she hits the ground. You shout, scream, and cry at the men who flock over toward her. A pitchfork near you is the first thing you see to use as a weapon. Surely you can scare someone off with the points of the tines.

A bellowful growl grows from a stampede of three wolves bursting onto the scene. They’re far too fast for your eyes to keep up, seeing flashes of their fur dashing around you to strike your attackers. Their teeth bare as they snarl and bite into the flesh of the men, claws digging through the fabrics and skin.

One wolf is nearly all black, slicked fur making it shine in the night. Another has a warm russet color, speckled with hues of beige but warm under the ember of the fires around you. The last wolf is your wolf – you know him far too well. Brighter shades of light brown are in his face as the rest of his pelt darkens into a deep dark, chocolate color. His amber eyes, now sparked with blue, casts over to you briefly as he takes out an enemy, his paw stepping hard against his chest and pressing down.

It’s like whiplash with how fast the royal guards cleared out the stables as the fire consumes the fixtures around you. Smoke fills the air, rising heavily as thick clouds form. Pieces of the loft areas begin to break and fall as the other roped up horses huff and puff.

The stark black wolf is the one lifting your maid off the ground as it nudges her. She’s wounded, you can tell as red covers the fabric of her left arm. You take a step toward her, wanting to console and help – but in return you are barked at by Jimin. He rushes toward you, his speed frightening you as you backpedal away from the area. He stares hard at you, growling in a low tone as ashes fall behind him.

He’s moving you away, wanting you out of the area. The other two wolves bark in his direction, some form of communication you cannot understand as Jimin glances back and responds with his own call.

The russet colored wolf jumps toward Jimin as you watch your maid latch onto the black fur of the other. She gives you a sympathetic look, mouthing the words ‘get out of here’ to you.

A large beam from above falls and crashes in the middle of the stables, breaking other fixtures in its path. Ember’s rise from the burning building with a massive gust of wind as you turn your face away from the crash.

“Jimin!” You cough as your arms shield you. Your eyes tickle in pain from the smoke, the fire’s brightness doesn’t help either.

You can feel the brush of fur against you as a heavy body presses into your front. You smell the wilderness immediately as you fall forward, burying your face and arms into Jimin’s coat. He nudges you with his shoulder and a grunt. Somehow able to understand what he’s saying.

Quickly, you pull yourself up along his back like one would do for a horse. Your face remains embedded into his fur as you wrap your arms around his neck, hooking your fists onto his coat to anchor yourself.

You move with the russet colored wolf as he clears out the path ahead of you and Jimin. Taking down any attacker standing in the path to escape. It’s difficult to hold onto a wolf, feeling your limbs tighten around Jimin as hard as you possibly can just to stay on top as he dashes through the terrain.

His goal is to get you out of here safely, remove you from the premises. He brings you farther and farther away from the castle and closer to the woods. The last glimpse you dare to make shows you the image of the russet wolf turning back toward the scorched castle grounds.

You pray for the good safety of everyone. Hope the castle is still together after the royal guard protects and saves the night.

It’s freezing as Jimin runs through the thicket of the wilderness, deeper than you ever dare to go alone. You keep your head down, pressed into his back as bitter cold breezes over the surfaces of your body that aren't protected by Jimin’s warmth. The nightgown you wear is thin, not topped with layers among layers of fabrics and wiring like a corseted dress would have. Not to mention the tingling burn to your bare feet as the winter air touches them. But he is warm. A heated beast beneath you, emitting a comforting temperature the more your fingers curl into the roots of his bristle fur.

His breath is labored, chest heaving as his limbs carry you fast. Jimin zips through the rough terrain of the earthy woods, jumping and dodging the obstacles in his way. You fear the tightness of your muscles as you cling on to him, feeling the exhaust of your body as they sore.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been a passenger on Jimin’s back. Everything has happened so quickly. It isn’t until you hear the noises of strangers. The padding of snow under Jimin’s paws begins sounding different. Now stepping on hardened ground.

Your eyes blink open as you take in the surroundings passing by. Glowing lights in tapered windows of wooden cabins flash in seconds. Secured doors and moss growth along the sides of several cabin-like housings.

Jimin leads with a howl, rushing toward the only place he knows will keep you the most protected. He slows his pace as he draws near, beckoning with a warning call for the door to swing open and allow him in. You find yourself entering with him, a soft warmth from a low burning fireplace greets you as the two of you enter.

You feel the way Jimin stumbles, his body catching up with how taxed he must be. The way his shoulders shrug tells you to dismount him as his mouth pants labored breaths. Carefully, you slide until your toes touch the floor below you.

“Jimin?” Your first concern comes out worriedly. Your hands still roam his fur as you notice the warmth of red liquid staining your palms – even pieces of your clothes. It’s enough to make you feel uneasy about the open wounds you fail to find through his pelt.

He’s quick to move from you, tripping over himself as he walks deeper toward the back of the cabin. A low growl rumbles from his chest as a warning, unwanted contact from you.

You take a step to follow him, seeing how hurt he is – it only wrenches your heart tighter. Your eyes grow wider the further he steps away from you, scurrying himself as he barks in the air for help.

A soft pair of hands hold onto your elbow, keeping you from the beast in pain. You snap your head toward the contact, searching for the reason why you’ve been halted.

“Don’t.” A woman with dark, long wavy hair speaks in a low tone. Her skin is aged but glows beautifully. Bundled up in layered clothes, she wears a worried look just like you. But it’s because she is stressed about your concern over the wolf in agony. “He will be alright.”

The door behind her has already been shut tight as the woman urges you to sit on the closest couch. Your eyes flick back to Jimin who continues to pad down the end of the hallway, twisting into a new shape as his body slowly transforms back into a human state. It’s an image you never expected to see, completely magical and out of this world as you catch glimpses of a wolf morphing into man.

His deep groans turn more audible as his real voice is able to break free.

“Wolfsbane –” he curses out into the open as he’s hunched over. He breathes heavily, open mouth catching air for his lungs as his fingers now claw at the bloody abrasion on the left side of his chest.

From your spot on the sofa, you witness Jimin suffering in a fetal position with no clothes. He’s turned to the side, hiding what he can in his vulnerable state. His long hair, usually kept neatly pulled back, falls dramatically across his face. His nose scrunches as his lips pull back to show his seething teeth.

“Jimin!” You begin to stand up, but the woman holds her hands out before you.

“Stay, Princess! Please!” Her voice is soft.

She tries her best to be respectful, honoring your title even in the severity of a situation. “I’m his mother.” She claims before gripping a knitted wool blanket off the back of a chair and rushing over to her son.

You blink, stunned as you process all the movements and information playing out in front of you.

Jimin coughs as his head presses into the floor. You watch in horror the way Jimin’s body rejects the burn of the wolfsbane that entered his system. Jerking and moving in his place as some mystical natured element helps overcome his pain. Jimin’s mother places the blanket over Jimin, shielding him from your innocent eyes. She squats beside him, hand placing over his forehead as his face twists with strain.

“Fight it,” she encourages as she pushes back his bangs to inspect his eyes. They’re reddened on the edges. The infection attacks deeply within him. His blue shiny irises that come out when he taps into his wolf form is stationary, shining brightly as he internally battles the poisonous herb. “Push it out, you can do it.”

You catch him staring at you as he overcomes this annoyance. It’s not enough to be deadly for him, but it is a good amount to weaken his overall state for the time being. His body fights to heal properly, but he’ll be ready soon.

The first initial wave of pain eases on Jimin. You don’t notice it due to the blanket covering his body, but a small pool of tainted blood leaks out of his wound. Spoiled by the wretched poison. It’s what his body needs to do, reject it and remove it entirely from him.

“Can I help in any way?” You stand and step toward him as his panting calms.

“No, no!” Jimin’s mother’s hands shoot out, shooing you. “You don’t need to do anything! His body is healing,” she reassures. “It may not make any sense, but he is going to be good. Just give him some time. Wolves have an accelerated healing power.”

“But –” you begin to counter. You feel helpless, powerless. Your heart hurts from seeing Jimin in such a distraught state. You can’t shake the image out of your head.

“Stop,” you hear Jimin breathing out. His tenor voice aching as his body shivers. “Stay over there,” he begs. “Just give me a second, Princess.”

All you can do is wait. Watch the way the man you care for struggles with himself as his supernatural body convulses and kicks out the vicious wolfsbane as he rapidly recovers. His grunts and groans do nothing to help, making you worry even more.

When Jimin finally settles, he lays limp on the floor. Relief washes over him as the surging pain seizes and his body begins to feel like normal once again. Sweat has slickened the roots of his hair, surely the rest of his skin expelled other toxins.

He starts to lift himself off the floor, using his arms to push him up to a sitting position first – then enough to stand. He clutches the blanket around him. Holding it tight around his waist and covering his lower region.

“Take your time,” his mother whispers. She, too, stands with him. Using her hands to help guide him if he wavers on his feet. He’s taller than her, but you can tell she’s strong from the way she helps hold her son up.

“I have to go back,” he says to her, but stares at you.

Jimin takes a few tentative steps until he catches the motion easilier. He walks over to you in concern, abandoning the dripped blood on the floorboard from where he once laid. You're shivering in place, not realizing it yourself.

“Mom, would you mind finding something the princess can change into? Clean her up a little as well?”

You waste no time rushing yourself to him regardless of Jimin pleading for you not to. That doesn’t stop the way your arms wrap around his torso, feeling the warmth of his smooth skin as you hold him. Your head curls into his shoulder as his free arm surrounds your back, pulling you against him.

“Please, be good. Back up,” he slowly walks you in his embrace.

You feel the rumble of his voice through his chest as you press desperately against him, not wanting to let him go just yet. He’s homely like your favorite hiding place back in the castle or the comfort of your bed after a long day of duties. It feels right to be with him as your mind speaks these words of nonsense.

“Don’t leave again,” you beg as your heartstrings twinge with sadness. You think latching onto Jimin even more would be the answer of his choice, but alas it is not. His arm is placing you down on the sofa for you to sit as he kneels on the floor. Even when you try grabbing at him, he politely pushes your hands away.

“Mom,” Jimin calls out as his hands grip the bottoms of your bare feet. He runs his palms across them, feeling how frigid they’ve become. Jimin ignores the way your cold hands try to turn his head to look up at you, stubbornly keeping it down and focused on your toes. When he fails to hear a response, he shouts again, “Mom!”

“Jimin!” You call to get his attention, fingers running through his thick locks to expose his face. Cupping his cheeks doesn’t suffice either, even your attempt to tilt his jaw fails. He isn’t budging from his position.

His mother comes out of another room with an abundant amount of clothes. Each of them look heavy, thick. Enough to hopefully keep you bundled up in the chill of a winter’s night.

Jimin squeezes your feet with his hands, trying to circulate more blood flow as he tries to warm you. He suffers knowing you’re freezing, not in an ideal state. But he can also feel the way your heart pangs with confusion and hurt. He can smell the fear radiating off of your body as you process so much.

“Would you mind changing into these?” His mother comes into your view. She begins placing pieces out in order to dress. Layers ready at your will. “I can wash your nightgown. Rid you of those stains. I can try patching up the tears in your skirt.”

The doleful look in your eyes tells her enough at one glance. She sighs as a tear trickles down the bridge of your nose.

“Why won’t you look at me?” Your voice cracks mid sentence as you stare helplessly at Jimin.

It’s languid the way his eyes flick up to you, shrouded with sadness behind his lashes.

“You’re freezing,” he states.

“I’m more hurt that you won’t let me do anything for you,” you respond with irritation. “I’m fine. You’re not.” You gesture to his exposed chest, muddied with swipes of blood on his left side.

“There’s nothing there anymore. The wound is sealed already. It’s just drying blood.”

He looks down back at your feet, finally noticing his stained hands – how he’s holding you with his own filth. The thought upsets him entirely.

Abruptly, Jimin stands. Turning away from you and rushing over to the fireplace to place more wood in the burning embers. He tightens the blanket around his waist, pacing across the floor of the cabin for anything he thinks you need before he departs.

“Run a bath,” he tells his mother. “It’ll warm her up faster. Then she can change into the clean clothes.”

“I don’t want that,” you speak. “I’ll take the clothes as they are. But Jimin –”

“– I need to go back,” he whips around in his spot. Jimin is fast on his feet, gathering some more blankets and gripping your hand. “My old room is just over here. Make yourself at home. I know this isn’t ideal but it will keep you safe and warm. My mother,” Jimin glances over at her, “She’ll be a great help. Please, take care of the Princess before I return.”

You rip your hand away from Jimin while stubbornly holding your place on the couch. It’s an act you never suspected yourself to do so harshly. The appalled look on your face puzzles Jimin. Makes him look down at you in silence, awaiting for you to speak.

“No,” you stare back. “Why can’t you just stay?”

“I have a duty,” he responds just as fast. “One to serve the royal family.”

“I am the royal family!”

“I am a part of the entire pack fighting for the kingdom right now. I must be with them.”

The frustration causes your blood to boil under your skin. Heat rises to your cheeks as anger takes over. He’s staring you down. Jimin is right after all. But yet again, without him even speaking, you can hear his voice repeat the words ‘that’s selfish of you’. It rattles inside your head as your lips quiver with emotion.

You turn your head, eyes filled with sorrow dropping to your lap. The scolding fire from his bright eyes hurts you deeply. Yet he doesn’t have intentions to upset you, Jimin only wants to protect you.

“Go.”

The single word comes out so cold, so unlike your usual tone. It catches Jimin off guard.

The entire time Jimin’s mother stands in silence, trying to read the room herself as the two of you cast a tense environment. She has no place to utter a single word, not here. For a moment, she shares a cautious glance with her son. Something in her eyes that tells him that he needs to do something – say something.

“Prin –”

“– I do not want to see you.” Your voice sounds meek, on edge of falling over in the pool of emotion laying inside of you. If only he can understand how important you’ve made him in your life. How special he is and the comfort that comes with him when he’s around. Imagining him returning beaten up again bothers you. Thinking he might not come back at all is even worse.

“Just, go.” You command.

“Y/n,” Jimin speaks in a gentle voice. He steps closer to you with a heavy heart, “I’m sorry.” Slowly, he leans down to level his head with yours. It’s alright with him that you refuse to look back. Jimin knows he has your attention regardless. You feel the soft graze of his knuckle run along the edge of your jaw, surprised from the tender touch. “I really am sorry,” he smiles faintly as he leans in just enough to place his plump lips delicately on your temple.

Jimin leaves your side, turns on his heel and swiftly moves out the front door. It’s a rush from the way his body forms back into wolf and his paws press into the ground, carrying him further away from you. He wants to be here for you, but his loyalty lies deep to the guards and your family. Jimin knows you are safe, under the protection of his mother and the community surrounding the cabin. He would never just leave you.

A gust of wind blows in from outside, the chill reminding you how low the temperatures are. Jimin’s mother kindly shuts and locks the door. Silence stills softly in the ambiance of the crackling fireplace.

It breaks you knowing Jimin isn’t staying by your side. The rational side of your brain screams at you, telling you he is doing the right thing. But the emotional soft boundaries you have, that are more tender than a baby bird, weakens the further Jimin is. Like a piece of your heart constantly stripping from you. Cracking and bleeding from unreciprocated love.

The gentle face of Jimin’s mother approaches you, her soft hand places it upon your shoulder to gain your attention.

“Princess,” she begins with a kind tone. “Please know, we’ll do anything to protect you. You’re in a safe place now. My name is Mira. Let’s have you change into something warmer. I can make some tea as well.”

Her words do not stop the slow streams of tears dripping from your face. You wipe away each of them the moment they pass the curve of your cheeks, frustration and heartbreak laying deep within you.

When will he come back, you begin to wonder. Will he come back? Flashes of the ruffians and ruthlessness they project remind you how dangerous they are. What damages have they done with your family's castle? To your precious belongings?

And then it reminds you… You haven’t thought about your family. Your father and siblings, are they safe and sound? Are they escorted off the property by the guards as they clean up the mess of the intruders? How selfish of you, truly, to only think of yourself and Jimin.

Your realization serves you like the small piece of bread and tea served to you on a platter from Mira. It makes you cry more about how childish and foolish your mind is.

“He does love you,” Mira speaks again. Her eyes crinkle with wrinkles as she smiles. “He does the things he does because he loves you.”

Jimin yearns to return to your side the moment his feet step out of his childhood home. He rushes back to the castle grounds, reconnecting with the king's royal guard and abolishing any trespasser standing in his way. He fought for hours with righteousness and duty, tearing apart men limb from limb as he dodges the poisonous silver weapons laced with a venomous herb. When the time comes that the invasion of hoodlums either retreat or have been eliminated by the brute force of the royal guard – Jimin doesn’t hesitate to rush back to you.

He’s been given the blessing from his higher-ups. Notified that the castle will be on high alert while the rest of your family has been scattered to their own locations of safety. They too have their own personal guards who stand their grounds and hover their sides. What matters now is that the kingdom is still intact even after such a brutal attack. They are not overthrown and they will continue on as supreme rulers.

As for any hostages held from the invaders, they will be judged appropriately and prodded for questions and answers before the royal court. Jimin has seen this many times, but never to this extent. This is the first time in his line of duty that the castle was attacked – but he is thankful for the outcome.

He wouldn’t know what would have happened if it turned out different.

His chest heaves with heavy breaths as he slows his pace the moment his eyes lay on the door to his mother’s house. Inside he knows you are waiting, impatiently he assumes. But seeing your face again will give him a sense of relief. A calming vortex that sinks deep inside his body and warms his nerves.

Jimin’s blood pumps in his ears as he calls out to his mother in the form of telepathy – a unique trait wolves have with one another. An inner circle of connections that allows wolves to speak to other wolves. Mira is ready by the door, twisting the handle and allowing Jimin a swift entrance into the house.

He tries to step quietly as his heavy wolf form causes the wood flooring to creak under his steps. His pads resound a soft thud as he walks. At first, he expects to walk straight to his room as he remembered he offered you his place to rest. But as his nose picks up your immediate scent, he realizes that you’re still resting on the couch right in front of the fire.

“She hasn’t moved,” Mira murmurs under her breath. Jimin’s mother stayed up all hours he was gone, watching and keeping you company. “I’ve given her plenty of tea and washed her face with a heated cloth. I’ve kept adding more wood to the fire to help. Even in her sleep, she still shivers. She may have hypothermia,” she warns.

He wouldn’t put it past him if this is the case. You were never made for enduring February winters in just a nightgown after all. Barefooted may he add.

Jimin walks over you, his nose sniffing at your skin to seek any discomfort your body may radiate. You lay there bundled up as much as you can under heavy fabrics of wool and fur. Jimin smiles to himself fondly as he sees the way you tuck your chin into the blanket and cover your nose.

A tentative look is shared between Jimin and his mother before he nudges his head against your arms.

You rouse from your slumber momentarily and your immediate reaction is to tighten your body and move to a more comfortable position. However, Jimin doesn’t allow you. He nudges you again and this time he digs his nose between the crack of your arms, prying them open so he can slot his head through and force your arm around his neck.

Mumbling in your sleep, you groan at the annoyance of being woken up. But when you feel the soft bristles of fur against your face and the undeniable warmth coming from them, you cling onto whatever is pressing against you.

It wakes you further. Enough to make you register enough to know Jimin is in your arms right now. Your fingers cling onto him tightly, screwing them into knots as you inhale deeply into the side of his neck. He smells like the frozen forest mixed with burning embers; the smell of smoke clogging between his roots.

His warmth is what reminds you of home. It forces happiness to leak out of your eyes as a warm tear drips onto his fur the more you bury your face into him. His movement forces you to wake up, urging you with a tug to get off the couch and follow him.

Leisurely, you hang from him while he ushers you to the other room – his room. Your feet stumble as the two of you pass Mira. You don’t care how clumsy you look, you’re just happy to have Jimin back.

“Jimin,” his mother tries speaking in a hushed tone. “Remember who you are to her.”

He doesn’t stop his stride as he enters his old bedroom with you nearly hanging off of him. It’s upkept well thanks to his mom. Nothing moved or changed over the years. With a few more nudges and suggestive pushes, he has you falling into place upon the mattress. It’s low to the ground, easy for him to step on it even in wolf form and lay comfortably as you attach yourself to his back.

This form is undoubtedly the warmest. And with his wolf form he serves as a natural furnace for you. He doesn’t mind the way your fingers dig into his fur or the way your cold body presses desperately against his. He allows anything that will warm you up.

His eyes meet his mother’s as she leans in to shut the bedroom door. Words and feelings cannot describe his unfair bond to you – but with werewolves, they have a mutual understanding of how things work.

Jimin groans with a huff before putting his head down on the bed. He stays awake, alert, and listens to the sounds and conversations running through his head. Even when the threat is over, he still stays guard. Ready to pounce on anything that comes toward you.

For now, you may sleep comfortably. Jimin will be able to tell you later about the results of the castle and your family.

You’re greeted by coldness as you toss and turn. The fresh chill pricks your cheeks, jolting your nerves to wake when you want nothing more than sleep. Chirps of wild birds sing outside of the window that casts a dull ray of sun into the room. It still looks dark out. There’s also an ache in your joints and muscles, particularly in your neck.

Perhaps you slept awful, used to having your luxury linens and perfectly fluffed pillows. Instead you spent the night balled up, tight, against the only thing that holds heat.

The fire isn’t what saves you from the brisk cold of winter. It is the tender bristles of a wolf’s fur that hordes blissful heat, warmer than a copper pan filled with rocks warmed at the edge of a fire.

But you are not welcomed with that same softness of Jimin’s fur anymore. When you turn again, you realize you press against the smooth surface of his broadened back. Black ink decorates down his spine in the phases of the moon as your eyes focus from the haze of sleep. Does it make any sense to see the man you adore, shirtless with his back to you in the same bed?

Absolutely not.

Your clogged head tries to clear the fog of confusion as you edge away from Jimin. He’s tucked under the covers, just as you. His chest rises and falls slowly, in a deep sleep. He’s more exhausted than you, his body fought all night. It makes sense he finally collapsed into a resting state; relaxed and dare you say, delicate. The branded ink shines subtly as his skin, miraculously still smooth, feels even warmer under your tender fingertips. Slowly, you trace invisible patterns onto his skin, mesmerized by the way he doesn’t pull away from you.

You feel guilty for snuggling up closer to him, knowing very well he isn’t in a conscious state for him to put you back in your place like all the other times. But you feel drawn in and addicted to his warmth and security in such a tender position.

Jimin inhales and exhales deeply, shifting his head when he feels your fingers tickle the nape of his neck. He shifts in his sleep, moving his body enough to force you to freeze. His hand reaches back, swatting away your hand as if it is a dainty bug crawling on him. But he realizes it’s nothing but a hand – your hand – and instead, he grips it. Pulling it around him and stretching your arm across his torso so that he can hold it against his chest. Jimin curls himself in a fetal position, dragging you flush against his back.

“Stop tickling me,” he murmurs in a groggy voice. He huffs out a small burst of air, humor laced with it.

Your forehead presses into his spine, a small smile creeping up on your lips.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

Silence falls once again except for the subtle sounds of Jimin’s breathing. You could stay like this forever if you were able to. Ignore all responsibilities of life and stay with Jimin. Deep down, you secretly wish this. Having his protection and solace, bringing you solitude and clarity. You know that he is all you will ever need. He’s been exactly everything you need him to be in your life, even when times get tough and he guides you to do something you’re stubbornly against. It’s all for your well-being. Your overall happiness. Jimin has never steered you down the wrong path; even if it’s the path you wouldn’t pick yourself.

He is strong in many ways you aren’t. Rational and accountable. You know he will do everything in his power to let you have the perfect life and he will never leave you.

This feeling of unfulfillment with your heart always reminds you how a large piece of him belongs there. No matter how much room you make for your family and potential suitors that come your way. Nothing will fill the undeniable love you have toward your personal royal guard.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat. This time with a different reason.

You’re apologizing for yourself. For the position you put yourself in even though you never win the fight with your emotions. How you cannot control this bond between the two of you and how you cannot change the way you feel toward him. You know you could never be with a wolf, let alone your own personal guard. The years between you doesn’t matter either. Jimin still looks as you first remember him, minus the added tattoos, scars and array of hair styles he’s sported. He has always been your guard, a figure to look up to, a brother, and a best friend without being them at the same time.

The connection you feel with Jimin is unexplainable. A natural magnetic draw you feel. A compelling force screaming at you that this – he – is exactly what your mind, body, and soul needs.

“Get some more rest,” Jimin urges as he squeezes your hand a little bit tighter.

“I am being honest with you,” you declare.

“So am I,” Jimin’s sleepy voice seeps through.

Your small tiff stirs Jimin awake. He turns slowly, still maintaining his hold on your hand as he faces you. The small puff of his cheeks shows you how tired he must be as his eyes remain closed. Jimin leans in, pushing your head into his chest as he rests his face into the top of your head.

“Rosemary,” he speaks out loud. He inhales slowly, admiring the sweet scent of the herb used to wash your hair every night. “It suits you so much.”

You feel a flush of warmth coursing through your body in such an intimate position. You have never been this close or tangled with Jimin like this before. There’s faint scars across his chest from what you can see, memories of past battle wounds that cut too deep perhaps.

“Are you hurt?” You question. Wondering how his body never correctly healed these specific marks.

“Not anymore,” he hums as he pulls you in tighter.

You can hear the faint beating of his heart as you twist your head to lay against his chest. It thumps calmly, like a lullaby whispering in your ear.

“Why are you here?” You dare to question.

A heavy thought that’s been weighing on your mind for far too long. You want to thank him for welcoming you into his solitude and keeping you warm throughout the night. Even then, you hardly remember moving from the couch to this bed. Jimin sharing a bed with you doesn’t make any sense to you. Especially how he rests with no clothes on; assumingly you believe as the blankets cover more than your eyes can see.

“Warmth,” he responds. “I had to keep you warm. But I fell asleep.”

“Why are you still here then…?”

Jimin exhales deeply. He still rests as much as he can even with your quizzing questions.

“I’m pretending I’m still dreaming.”

“Dreaming?” You blink.

“Yes.” Jimin’s hand gingerly raises to stroke the side of your head, brushing off any stray locks. His palm is so warm against you, the contact heating you instantly. “A dream. Would you like me to leave?”

“No,” you blurt out faster than you expected. “I just don’t understand,” you try leaning back to look at his face.

“Princess,” he tsks. “How can I explain this?” He questions himself more than you. Jimin places his lips on your forehead and rests them there as he contemplates his words. “A wolf cannot be mixed with a royal. But you desire a wolf. And a wolf desires you.” He hesitates with the next sentence that leaves his mouth. “However, it will never be allowed. And thus… a dream.”

“You dream of this?” You ask, stunned.

“Don’t you?” He huffed a laugh. “I know you do. There are times that I can read it all over your pretty face. I can feel it too.”

“I-I,” you feel flustered. Your feathers fluffed every which way as Jimin speaks so carelessly of such a sensitive subject.

“I know how you feel for me,” he states. “I’m sorry you do. Even when I try to keep you on the right path, show you your responsibilities and guide you to your title's destiny… you found a sanctuary in me.”

Jimin continues to stroke your face with his thumb, his nose breathes out hot air against your forehead. He caresses you tenderly, holds you dear to him as if he is afraid to let you go.

“I’ve… I have always loved you,” you confess. Swallowing thickly as your throat closes up with emotion. Jimin allows you to slide your arms around him again.

“I know. I can feel everything you feel,” he sighs. “Your happiness. Your sadness. That painstaking broken heart every time you’re forced to live your reality.”

He smiles softly against your skin, peppering small kisses where his lips rest.

“I also feel the way you can’t control your emotions. How you constantly battle with what’s right and wrong. How not a single person draws your attention more than I do. I can’t really explain how I can feel these things,” he tilts your head to look down into your eyes. “It won’t make any sense.”

In the soft morning light, his features are more admirable. His skin glows beautifully, like a natural highlight illuminating off of the edges of his face. Jimin cracks open his eyes, only slightly, to peer down at your innocent expression. A face he’s seen for many years after being scolded or pressed for answers. The beauty in his eyes, that crisp amber hue, shifts a shade darker as they land on your parting lips.

“Jimin, I don’t want this to be a dream.”

You’re honest about it. The aura of intimacy is fueling the room so purely, it’s nearly smothering. Jimin allows his walls to break down for you to enter; let’s you in his space even when it goes against everything the two of you know.

His thumb flicks your bottom lip, feeling the soft flesh under his digit. He can feel the natural draw, how his body is aching with a tantalizing need to kiss you. To have you, just for now, before he must go back to reality.

“I’ll do anything for you,” he declares as he looks down at you sadly. “I devoted myself the very first moment I saw you.” His breath shakes as he lets out a breath he was holding.

“Princess,” he begins, the small curve of his lips upturning. He knows this is dangerous, it’s not allowed. Years of pining and rejecting you, fearing the system of the world and the way of life, he’s taking his one and only opportunity to be selfish. A thing you know so very well. Jimin leans down, lips nearly brushing yours, “Please forgive me.”

Your lips press together in a gentle embrace. He pours his unannounced love for you with this kiss; all those years of pent-up, hopeless desires and unfathomable attachment finally burst through with the only way he can show you.

There’s no way of telling how long your kiss lasts; and eternity sounds like an understatement. Your breath hitches in your throat, surprised by the act and realism of Jimin – the man you’ve grown to love throughout all these years – has committed such a sinful, yet delightful, treason for the sake of his own greed. The same act you do not disgust, appall, or dislike. You greet it, after a few moments of shock, with happiness. A passion of feeling what you pined for all this time. Acceptance, understanding, and need.

Jimin’s warm fingers run along the side of your face and down the length of your arm. “Pretend it’s just a dream.” He smiles in between kisses.

A subtle tear breaks the brim of your eye as you capture Jimin in a passionate, breathtaking kiss. You bring him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck and tasting his tongue in your mouth.

When it’s just a dream, you’re allowed to cross the lines of right and wrong. Do the things you want to do, impulsively or not. That’s why you don’t bother to wait when you desperately cling to him, tangling your soft fingers through his messy hair. You feel the way Jimin presses himself into you, not a care of his royal guard status or what your title is. He brings his love out to another being – you.

You feel the gentle pull of his hands at the lining of your padded clothes. There’s so much keeping you bundled, but he’s sure he can keep you warm with his body. His hands roam under the fabrics, feeling the touch of the soft skin of your hip. He skirts his hand up your back, pressing his palm onto you to drag you into him.

“Are you sure?” You question him as if you’re being fooled. Tricked into thinking this truly is a dream and not something you will remember.

“I’ve never wanted something so desperately,” he admits with no embarrassment. “So many times I’ve had to tell you to look away from me. Entertain these other suitors… It hurts. But I know I will always be there for you even if your feelings aren’t as they are now. Even if you didn’t feel for me. I can’t help that. I’m bound to you.”

Your eyes roam the expanse of his body that you can see against the pale sheets of his old mattress. His words send glee to your heart. Had you known this hurts him as much as it hurts you, you would do something about it. Find a way to make something work. There must be a way.

“I’m sorry for being so distant with you in regard to your emotions. But, I do it to protect you. I’m not right for you.” Jimin whispers as his lips reconnect with yours. A carnal desire brewing deep inside of him, no doubt inside of you too.

“Jimin,” you whimper against his mouth. The crack in your voice is threatening to snap.

“Tell me to stop.”

“Don’t,” you sniffle.

Your head is a clutter of sensitive emotions ransacking your brain. Clouding your headspace as if you are in a daydream. But you accept it. Allow this illusion, real or not, to be as real as it can ever get.

You accept him and this moment of time.

The heat of Jimin’s body keeps you warm from the chilled air outside of the sheets. Slowly, he shifts to have you laying on your back as his body crawls over you. Jimin plants soft and wet kisses down your jawline to a sweet spot on the side of your neck, multitasking with the buttons of your thick clothes.

The second he is able to free portions of your body from the garments, his skin slides over yours. Touching every delicately smooth surface of your body. Rising goosebumps through each sway of his fingers across every inch. You melt into his touches, a quiet whimper and pleasant hum escaping your nose.

“You’re so beautiful,” he comments as he levels his head with yours. He takes a moment to peer down at your morning face, admiring the way you look even with a rough night. Jimin remembers your eyes the most. How genuine and curious they are. He reminisces about the first time; when a shot of an electrifying spark penetrated his entire being because of his imprinting nature… how it connected him to you for as long as you live. “I will never lose you.”

Jimin can feel the way your body speaks to him. How together all your nerve endings and atoms feel as if they join like a perfect puzzle. It leads him further to your core, trailing his hand tentatively as he waits for a clear sign for him to continue.

He presses himself gently against you, showing you his growing need for you. The hardened appendage pokes you like a soft tapping on a door, trying to be as polite as possible.

You take his face in your hands, pulling him down for another emotional kiss. You nod to him, giving him the clearing to roam your most secretive bits.

After removing the access clothing from your legs, his fingertips glide up your inner thighs. He shivers when he inhales suddenly, taking in the small whiff of your scent. Instinctively, and almost casually, you bend your knee to allow more access for him.

Jimin’s fingers ghost over your core, brushing against the edges before feeling the slick heat from your lower lips. He teases you at first but not on purpose. Jimin swallows nervously, fighting with his body to remind himself to take things slow.

He takes your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling at the plump piece of flesh as his index finger runs down your slit. You shutter with a breath of hot air blowing out, enjoying the foreign touch.

Unsure what to do with your hands, you begin to run them down his hard chest to mimic the similar style of approach he does on you. Though you’re halted the moment you hit his navel by his hand.

“Allow me to focus on you,” he requests in a soft tone. He raises your knuckles to his mouth where he plants a chaste kiss to them.

He suggests for your hands to remain away as he descends down the valley of your breasts. Each tender kiss he leaves to your feverish skin in the commute to your lower region has you squirming. You hoist the blankets over your body as Jimin disappears underneath them, taking the heat too. He’s able to maneuver skillfully between your legs, slotting himself neatly as you spread them wider.

You don’t get to see the way Jimin licks his lips when his eyes focus on your core for the first time. How your scent hits his nose at full force, reminding him how beautifully wet you’re becoming with the tension built up around you. His finger returns to you, sliding down your slit and nudging against your clit. It causes you to jolt, instinctively closing your legs around him as much as possible. But he keeps them open with his hands and body as he moves closer.

Peeking under the covers, you see the dark hair of Jimin sinking between the junction of your thighs. You capture the scene, branding it in your memory the moment Jimin’s mouth abruptly comes down on to your clit. You cry out, gripping the blankets in hard fists as his tongue languidly flicks over your sensitive bud as his finger teases your entrance.

“Shh,” he tries to tame you when he inserts his finger into you. You clench tightly, shift your legs even more as your body adjusts to Jimin.

He’s wondering what you’ll feel like if he inserts another, if it’ll pull another whimper and a moan from you. And he has to; to spread your entrance wider and stretch your walls open enough to allow him inside. Prepare your body for the intrusive thoughts bleeding into his mind of your body shaking under him with pleasure.

Jimin curls his fingers once he adds a second one into the mix, slowly pumping them in you at a steady pace as his lips caress your clit. The tip of his tongue flicks your bud so dangerously, it makes you cry out even louder and begins to disturb the silent winter morning air.

His free hand comes down to your waist to stop your hips from bucking into him. Jimin releases his mouth from you and calms his fingers as he hushes you once again.

“Quiet, Princess. Please.”

“Jimin, I-I’m-” You pant softly. Your chest shakes with the rise and fall and intense pounding of your heart.

“Don’t be sorry,” he interjects. Jimin slides himself up your body again while still securing his fingers inside your core. “I know it’s hard to not be loud.” He places a kiss to your cheek before finding your mouth, the taste of you still lingering on his plump lips. Gently, he adds a third finger into your entrance and captures your whine with a sealed kiss.

He uses this moment to experimentally widen your walls with the scissoring effect of his fingers. Fighting off the impulsive clench your body naturally does. When his thumb presses into your clit your body jumps.

Your hands rush to his head, combing through his hair as you fight to anchor yourself on something.

Jimin winces from the strength and harsh pull, but he doesn’t let it bother his actions. Instead, he is kissing your neck again as his hand wraps around your back. He lifts you up like it’s easy until you’re straddling his lap, legs still parted wide for him. Jimin removes his fingers from you, allowing him to push you closer against his hardness. The contact makes his neglected member flinch with excitement.

Your cheeks prick with sparks of warmth as you look Jimin in the eyes again. Both completely naked and in each other's own embrace. Your hot slick presses against his shaft and Jimin cannot help but use his hand to push you into him again.

The blankets have fallen around the two of you, leaving Jimin’s strong muscles to hold you upright on top of him and exposed for him and only him.

“You can’t tell anyone…” he begins as his lips lock with yours. “What happens here must stay here.”

“But what if I don’t want that?” You ask, catching your breath in between kisses.

“Want and need are two different things.”

“I want both of those though,” you exclaim. “I want and need you, Jimin.”

He silences you again, but this time with his tongue. He dives deep into your mouth, groaning with the taste of you that excites him.

“Don’t ever speak of this,” he reminds you. “You mean more to me than you can ever imagine. You’re special to me, Y/n. You will always have me.”

Your heart tightens in your chest as you hear his sincere words. Relief is an understatement. The reassurance and verbal notice of Jimin’s confession is enough to send you to cloud nine. His loyalty and dedication to your family's name isn’t the only thing he cares for. The importance of you and how you are something more to him sends your heart into eternal bliss. Maybe all it took is to finally hear it from the source.

“I’ve always loved you,” you declare as if Jimin never knew this himself.

He nods, leaning in to capture another kiss from you as your hands tugs on his shoulders. Your mouths move together so perfectly, reminding you how you want nothing more than to do this for the rest of your life. Lightly, your clit brushes against his hardened and untouched dick. The sensation of how close you are to it sends excitement through your body, arousing you more as you desperately rock against him for more stimulation with his help. Your slick drips along his lap, making the glide easier for you.

You admire the tip of his cockhead pointing up toward you, silently requesting to be touched.

“Help me,” you whisper as your legs try to help raise you above him.

Jimin positions his cock when you’re hovering over him. Your arousal drips teasingly over him, dressing the mushroom head of his tip in a shiny coat. He breathes out a strangled breath as the curse word ‘shit’ runs out of his lips.

Slowly, you drop down on Jimin’s cock. Allowing him to stretch you open as the first inches penetrate you. He holds you up, allows you to sink down at your own pace as both your mouths open with pleasurable surprise. A silent gasp leaves the two of you breathless as you sit flush against him, ignoring any prickling pain as your walls flutter around his cock. Squeezing and unsqueezing rigorously as your head tosses back with eyes screwed shut. Jimin groans with a string of incoherent words, muffled by the way he presses his lips into the side of your neck.

“Oh,” you whimper.

Knees already threatening to buckle and morph into jelly, your hands hold onto Jimin’s sturdy shoulders when you look down between the two of you. There’s fascination running through you as you watch the way your breasts rub against his chest each time your body moves down his; watching the way he disappears inside of you and filling you up.

The two of you moan in unison as you experimentally roll your hips into him. Jimin’s fingers tighten around your thighs, jerking his hips up to meet yours. He keeps a leisurely pace with you as he wishes nothing but to make you feel pleasurable. You can feel the way your orgasm slowly builds within you as you hold Jimin’s head closer against your neck. A desperate way of holding onto something while you begin to tremble with sensitivity.

“Is it too much?” He questions as he holds you impossibly closer to his body.

You breathe deeply, clutching his cock with your walls.

“No,” you choke out. “I need more.”

Jimin pulls you off of him to greet your face with his. He lays you down expertly, letting your body rest soft against the mattress again. Jimin is able to hook his arm around one of your legs and gently lifts it higher, testing the new angle and watching the way your face contorts with pleasure.

You cry out his name as you feel his cock run across a specific spot inside of you, making your toes curl and back arch. The sparks in your body flying like lightning in the sky.

There’s a tightness in your stomach that shoots down to your lower region, alerting you of your approaching orgasm. Jimin notices from the way you shake with each thrust he gives. He holds your legs wide, allowing deeper access to push into you as his abdomen flexes every time his body bangs into yours.

“Like this?” He breaths out, a glimpse of blue shining from his eyes.

“K-keep… Y-yes,” you moan, feeling him hit every mark with this new angle.

Jimin lowers himself down to catch your lips with his, closing your mouth and muffing your noises to the best of his abilities. He absolutely loves hearing the sounds of your whimpers and pleasure, but he’s not trying to allow everyone else to hear them.

Another quick and particular movement of Jimin’s hips has you coming undone beneath him, bucking your hips up to match his thrusts as you squeeze tight around him. You feel the way your nails dig into his shoulders as you shake uncontrollably as Jimin continues to thrust through your orgasm. The sounds of your bodies colliding heightens with squelching noises, your dripping arousal coating his entire pelvis and leaking onto the sheets below.

With a few more sharp thrusts, Jimin pulls out of you and spills his seed onto your stomach. Dressing your smooth skin with strings of milky residue. You catch the ending bit, watching the way his cum spurts out of his cockhead as Jimin presses his pelvis down, using both him and you to squeeze his slick-hardened cock.

Jimin moans with you, still molding your lips together as he holds you close to him. When the two of you calm down from the euphoric sensations, he places his forehead against yours. He looks down at you with soft and serene eyes. Filled with love and adoration. This new sense of energy and vulnerability flows through him.

It’s happiness he shares with you when you both shyly smile at another. Ignoring all the heated labor breathes and dampened hairlines. You get lost in his eyes, wishing that the crisp amber coloring is the solution to all your worries and problems. And in some ways – they are.

“I love you.”

Jimin speaks calmly as he declares his emotions for you. His lips press into yours once more to seal his statement.

You can’t help but look up at him with watery eyes. You want to burst into a full blown cry when you see the way his eyes glisten too, but you don’t. Not wanting to spoil the moment of sincerity for either of you.

“I love you too,” you respond as you brush strands of fringe away from his softening face. It’s almost long enough to tuck behind his ear, which you scowl when you watch the piece fall right back in his face.

You share a soft chuckle with him as he moves slowly, making sure to not spread the mess on your stomach everywhere.

“I’ll clean us up and we can go back to resting for a bit.”

“Okay,” you smile softly. Your hands begin to cover yourself the further Jimin pulls away from your body.

Jimin is quick to find a feasible cloth from the corner of the room and just as fast to return to you on the bed. He wipes you off first, as he should, before cleaning himself. He kneels down on the mattress as you try to subtly admire his entire naked body. Realizing he is still so unfairly beautiful without the suited armor and clothing he usually wears.

“I should have you know, now that you’re awake…” he huffed a laugh. Jimin slides himself under the covers, meeting your body with his. His arm crosses over your torso, hand running down the other side of you until he pulls you close by the waist. “Your family is safe. We defeated the threat last night and your castle will undergo some reconstruction from the damages. But everything is maintained again. I’m sure we will have to return within the day.”

The news makes you happy. The outcome could have been far worse in many ways. But hearing these words from Jimin is comforting. It makes you proud and grateful for him. You aren’t sure what the future will bring. How this dreamy secret must never be spoken about. What this could all mean now. But what you do know, is that he loves you too, and that is enough for now.

Moodboard credit: @/kth1

#safe haven #kth1fics #bangtansorciere #thebtswritersclub #park jimin #jimin #jimin smut #jimin fic #jimin pwp #jimin oneshot #jimin imagines #jimin drabble #jimin fanfic #jimin x you #jimin au #bts fanfic #btspwp #werewolf jimin #btscreaturescoven

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ohbluesky · 2 years ago

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HII here’s a lil something for @thominho-week-2023!!!

- Day 2: Road Trip

- Day 3: “I really thought I lost you”

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kris-mage-fics · 6 months ago

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I was super lucky to win a commission from @nerdferatum and can't thank Sara enough for this absolutely gorgeous art of Kyrahlise and Shery! I'm in love with it have literally cried over it three times now! I really hope folks can see some of the romance novel cover art inspiration going on here, I thought it was what Shery deserves! Also, please zoom in on the full piece, because you can't see Kyrah's adorable freckles here with how much tumblr compresses the image, and that's a damn shame. Now please excuse me while I go stare at it some more!

Edit: In my excitement, I forget to tag @shepherds-of-haven because without the game there couldn't be this beautiful drawing!

#Sara was so wonderful to work with! they took all my vague ideas and made them so much better than what I'd envisioned!#and she perfectly captured the vibe I was going for!#this is now the background on my laptop!#apologies for no image ID -- I tried to write one several times and my brain was like “I can do words but not those words”#why? idk #hopefully I can add one later #shery acquell #oc: kyrahlise niriviel #shepherds of haven #shoh #commissioned art #okay weird minor head canons about this piece incoming:#it's set a few years after the main events of the game so Shery is more confident and secure in their relationship #is Shery reading a romance novel? of course! might parts of that romance novel get reenacted in a little bit? quite likely ;)#also I imagine Kyrah's life isn't quite so chaotic and violent as it was during most of the game or before it #so she's able to take better care of her hair resulting in it being nice and fluffy!#would her hair look like that during the game? no. she travels too much and doesn't have time to take great care of it

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ghostiezone · 4 months ago

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"....Ashe?"

"Who's that?"

short-ish fic under the cut because I had to be in the tranches about this :)

The Wards received the invitation only an hour before they arrived.

i know where to find your friend :)

The crumpled piece of paper looked like it had been drawn in crayon. It was stapled to the front door of their home. Their civilian home.

"Aux-" Failsafe started immediately, but Imprint's hand over his mouth cut off the name before he could finish. The boy wasn't in costume.

Imprint addressed him instead, cautious. "Ashe...?" He lowered his gloved hand from Failsafe's face and stepped forward between his two teammates, slowly, like he was approaching a cornered animal.

Wraith had been a stoic, silent presence since they entered the room, but Failsafe could feel the tension rolling off of him in waves.

The boy sitting on the edge of the desk looked.... young. Younger than he should. The shirt he had been put in was too big for him. Not in the same way his dad's jacket was too big for him- he used that like a turtle shell, something to retreat into, pull over himself like a shield. It was safe, warm, all-encompassing. Despite the issues they knew Ashe and his father had with each other, the love was still there. No, these clothes... they hung loose on his already skinny frame, making him look exposed. Vulnerable. They were monochrome, pale in a way that made him look washed-out, almost ghostly. He sat with his legs crossed, hands holding his ankles. He wasn't wearing shoes. One of the sleeves threatened to slip off his shoulder.

He tilted his head as they entered the room. The movement made Failsafe think of the stray puppies he used to feed in the alley behind their house.

His hair had been washed recently.

Something was very wrong here.

Ashe's face was devoid of all emotion. Though he was looking at the three of them, making eye contact, something seemed... distant. Failsafe reached out with his power and found... nothing.

He felt his heart seize in his chest. He frantically grabbed Imprint's hand before he could take another step forward, and tore his gaze away from Ashe to lock eyes with Wraith He hissed under his breath, he didn't trust his voice not to shake "guys, hes-"

"Breaker state, yeah. I know." Wraith finally broke his silence, voice stony and cold. "Don't get any closer to him."

At the sound of Wraith's voice, Ashe's eyes locked onto him. They were burning with an orange glow.

His head bent further to one side, and his face split into a wide grin that looked almost painful. Failsafe felt Imprint tense, fingers twitching like he was getting ready to reach for a weapon. He squeezed the wrist he was already holding. "Don't. We can't. That's still Ashe."

In that brief moment of distraction, the boy on the desk began to laugh. It was a broken sound, distorted, not like anything they had heard from him before. That deep orange glow in his eyes shone even through his closed eyelids. Wraith's cape billowed as he stepped in front of the other two, barking a clipped "Incoming!" as the space behind the desk began to distort.

Wraith's own warping powers sprang up in response, a translucent blue barrier forming in the air between the wards and their friend. As they watched, unsure of how to act, a rectangular shape began to appear in the air behind where Ashe was sitting, growing clearer and sharper as it eventually formed a sort of doorway. It was hard to look at directly, the light in the room seeming to bend toward the corners. The walls and floor buldged and sank in response to the tear in reality. The door itself was more like a window- a vague, distorted cityscape slowly coming into focus on the other side. The barrier began to ripple, as if it was made of water, as a figure stepped through it into the room.

Ashe's laughing was suddenly doubled as it became clear that whoever had just entered was cackling as well. It was an eerie echo- they were taking the same pauses for breath and short hiccups between giggles. Their shoulders bounced in matching tempo and their heads tilted back toward the ceiling at the exact same time.

The new figure was dressed in a long purple-grey patchwork coat, sleeves torn off and bottom hem ripped to shreds. He wore a darker purple scarf up to his chin, which flared out behind him into a tattered cape. The coat was sinched at the waist with a faded green belt, the end of which swung loose around his legs to give the appearance of a long tail. He wore some sort of blood-red bodysuit which concealed every bit of skin that would otherwise be showing. His darkened silver hair flared out around his head in wild spikes. Over his face, a circular mask concealed any distinguishing features. The mask may have been white once, but was now more of a tarnished brown. Two horns curled upward on either side of the face, which consisted of a cudely painted-on cartoonish black smile with squinted eyes.

"Why, if it isn't the Wards of New Haven!" The figure exclaimed, suddenly dropping into a deep bow. "You can call me the Trickster. Oh, I've been waiting so long to meet you!" There was a sort of childlike excitement in his voice, but there was a strain to it as well, as if holding back the laughter was causing him mental pain.

He turned his head toward Ashe, who was sitting motionless again on the desk. The figure cleared his throat, then in a harsh voice, snapped "You'd best show some respect in the face of such powerful heroes!"

As if dragged down by force, Ashe bent forward, nearly losing his balance and falling face first off of his perch. When he sat back again, his deadpan expression broke into a wide grin again. The smile didn't reach his eyes.

"What are you doing to him?!" Failsafe snapped, voice cracking with the panic of seeing his friend so vulnerable.

"Who, me?" The villain straightened back up, bouncing on his toes as he did. He flung a hand up to his chest in an overdramatic show of offense... and Ashe's hand made the same motion. In a cheap imitation of Ashe's voice, the Trickster echoed "I wouldn't hurt a fly!" As he did, Ashe muttered the same words.

"He's some sort of Master." Imprint's eyes were locked onto the figure, tracing his every move. The subtle shift in his posture put the image of a panther in Failsafe's mind. His next words were directed at the villain. "What do you want with Ashe?"

"Better yet, what do you want with us?" Wraith added. The strain of holding up a constant shield for this long was starting to take its toll on him, hands starting to shake. Even though the Trickster wasn't outright attacking them, knowing he was a Master with this kind of power was enough to keep them all on edge. They didnt know his limitations yet. "You were the one that sent us the note, right? Why bring us here just to stand there and laugh at us?"

The villain started cackling again, bending at the waist with the sheer force of his laughter. "Ashe?!" He straightened back up, mimed wiping a tear from the corner of the eye of the mask. "Who's that? Never heard of them!" As he stood up to his full height, he ran a hand gingerly through Ashe's hair. The boy didn't move, didn't react, despite Failsafe's immediate short burst of anger at the action. The Trickster clicked his tongue, continued to run his hands through Ashe's silvery-purple hair. As his hands moved, a glow began to spread from them. The same orange glow emanating from Ashe's eyes was surrounding the Trickster's fingertips. As he waggled the fingers on his free hand, little orange strings no thicker than spider silk extended upwards from them, seeming to disappear into thin air. The strings reappeared, wound around Ashe's arms. There was a loop around his neck as well, giving the sickening illusion of a collar.

"I just wanted to introduce the three of you to my Muse." He put an odd emphasis on that final word.

It was a name.

"And, to let you know he's mine now, and you can't have him back!" The static smile on the mask somehow looked devilish. It was such a childish statement, as if they were fighting over a toy on the playground, but it sent chills down all three of the heroes' spines. "Finders keepers, he came to me first! That means I get dibs." His voice dropped an octave on that last sentence, suddenly becoming threatening and deadpan. "Try to take him from me if you can. It'll be fun."

Suddenly, he spun on his heel, facing the doorway he came from. The rippling effect was starting to get more pronounced, more unpredictable. "Ah! But it seems like playtime's over for now. We'll see you soon, Wards."

Before he stepped back through the door, the strings around Ashe's limbs tightened, and he was dragged by some nearly-invisible force toward the doorway. He moved stiffly, as if the puppetmaster hadn't gotten used to moving him yet, but eventually he was pulled through the fading doorway.

The Trickster gave them one last mock solute before ducking through as well. The lingering echo of laughter hung in the room around them.

And Ashe- Muse- was gone with him.

#“but mac why would the trickster invite the wards to his base just to gloat. isnt that stupid of him. isnt he smarter than that”#well you see. he wants to show off his new toy <3 #he needs them to see EXACTLY what he holds against them. hes petty and childish and also extremely dangerous #and thats a horrible combination of things for a villain to be #also hey btw hes holding your best friend hostage! and using mind control powers on him #and keeping him in his extremely dangerous uncontrollable altered mental state pretty much constantly!#literally unable to stop feeling so gross and unwell over the comparison to dinah. ushhhghghhgshhahhahhghguhhhg #he puts ashe in a costume later. i imagine this takes place VERY soon after the overlord thing.#ashe goes missing after he kills overlord. i have a whole timeline scenario about that in my mind ros ill put that in your inbox later #aaauaghgh. hello its 1am. sorry about that #ghostiezone #digital art #new haven wards #fics #jrwi #jrwi pd #ashe winters #the trickster #nhw trickster #nhw muse

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il0veaphr0dite · 8 months ago

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ROSES & RINGS

(pictures are not mine credits to the owners)

A/N: I think this is my best written one so far, im very proud of it! I was so close to putting newts name in here but then i remembered 😞. I hope you enjoy and remember my requests are always open!

Warnings: Just fluff and Minho being a sweet boyfriend (not rlly a warning but who cares)

Word count: 1035

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

It had been about 8 months since you and the others arrived at the Safe Haven. When the group arrived they all had a tough time adjusting to a new routine, including you. It was hard for everyone to forget about everything and start over from scratch.

In addition to that, Newt’s death was very miserable. His death affected Thomas and Minho the most, they were the trio that helped you and the rest of the gladers escape the maze, and WICKED.

When the group first arrived you all quickly got to work on building huts. Unlike the glade, the island has fewer jobs. The most popular being Builders Doctors, Gardners.

You chose to work in the gardens mostly because you like to be hands-on, working outside is also a bonus since you didn't want to be stuck inside for hours.

On the other hand, Minho works as a builder. You don't really know why but it's not like there's a job as a runner.

The sun was beginning to set when you made your way back to you and Minho’s hut when you were stopped by Brenda. She was walking towards you with a smile on her face.

“Minho said to meet him at the beach,” She spoke before quickly running away.

You stand there confused but you dismiss the behavior.

You headed to the hut first to get cleaned up before you went to the beach.

You walked to the beach not knowing what to expect, but now that you had time to look back on the day you noticed that Brenda wasn't the only one acting weird.

Sonya, who worked with you in the gardens, had been smiling at you a lot and kept asking you what you were doing today.

Now that you noticed all the weird behavior, one question was now in your head.

What do they know that they're not telling you?

That question led you to think about Minho.

Why does he want you to meet him at the beach?

You two would typically meet in your hut and talk about your day before dozing off to sleep but today was different.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

You finally made it to the beach, shoving your thoughts to the back of your head.

Your eyes had been trained on your feet while you were deep in thought but when you finally looked up, you saw a blanket on the sand with two plates of food and two glasses full of what you assumed was juice.

Next to the blanket was Minho.

His hair was done nicely and he was dressed neatly in black pants and a clean white shirt, holding a bouquet of roses, your favorite.

You were amazed, stunned.

You then realize you hadn't said anything since you saw him, you walk towards him wrapping your arms around his neck.

His arms instantly wrap around your waist. You take a moment to admire everything he'd done for you.

You pulled away reluctantly.

“What is all this?”

“I thought we could have a little date to get our minds off things,” he spoke, handing the flowers to you followed by a kiss on the cheek.

He led you to the blanket, a few steps away from him. He sits down, holding his hand out for you.

You take it, sitting down next to him on the blanket.

“I wasn't expecting this..” you said, setting down the flowers.

“That’s because I made sure you didn't find out.”

“I was actually suspicious of Sonya and Brenda.”

He looked at you waiting for you to continue.

“They were acting weird, Sonya kept smiling at me and asking me what I was doing today.” you laughed.

“I only told them so they could help me plan this,” he said, shaking his head with a smile on his face.

“I guess even someone as amazing as you would need

help sometimes”

“I do need help on rare occasions such as this one”

You laugh nodding your head, you feel eyes on you.

You raised your head to look at Minho but he already staring at you, smiling.

“You’re beautiful,” he said.

You turned away, feeling your cheeks heat up.

Of those 8 months you were here you and Minho had dated for 7 of those months. You could easily said those were the best 7 months of your life.

Minho was the sweetest boyfriend you could ever ask for. Throughout the day he would occasionally come to the gardens to check on you.

He's very touchy (which you love), he always gives you hugs and kisses and well the point is he's an amazing boyfriend.

Minho convinces you to take your shoes off and go into the edge of the water.

“Minho stop!” you said between laughter. He wouldn't stop splashing you with water.

You made a joke and now you regret it as you are being sprayed with water.

After a while, you were starting to get tired.

“I'm going to sit down for a second,” you said walking to the blanket.

“Hold on, you have something in your hair,” he said, stopping you.

“What? Where?” you go to touch your hair but Minho stops you.

He walks up to you “I got it,” he says.

You wait for him to take it out but you don't feel anything.

“Did you get it?”

No response.

“Minho?”

No response.

You turn around to see Minho on one knee holding up a ring.

You were speechless.

“Y/N, From the moment I asked you out to right now I have grown more in love with you each moment of every day. You're the most beautiful woman in the world and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and with that, I want to ask you one question.”

Tears threaten to leave your eyes

“Y/N, Will you marry me?”

You begin nodding your head rapidly.

“Yes!” you finally let out.

You put your hand out as he puts the ring on your finger.

As soon as he stands up you tackle him into a hug.

“I love you so much,” he whispers into your ear.

“I love you too,” you say, kissing his cheek.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

#maze runner #mazeposting #minho headcanons #minho maze runner #minho x reader #minho x you #the maze runner #minho #minho imagines #tmr minho #boyfriend #proposing #engagement ring #beach #picnic #the scorch trials #safe haven #death cure

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chimivx · 5 months ago

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TASTE. -> 'Haven' from the POV of Hyunjin. (Part Four of Six)

summary: All of the truth comes out. Hyunjin makes sure of it.

word count: 9k

warnings: 18+, infidelity themes all throughout, toxic friendships/relationships, sexual content, alcohol abuse, struggles with mental health themes, cursing, if I missed anything PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

a/n: This is long overdue. <3

I had barely eaten anything in two days.

My stomach, empty, full of a sickness I couldn’t shake, sunk any time Jade came near me or opened her mouth. Felix lived in the back of my mind until this Sunday morning, where Jade caught me in the kitchen trying to force down a cup of black coffee. Thursday night had turned out to be a night I would never forget. The first time Felix kissed me, the first time someone genuinely seemed to care about the loss of my mother, the first time anyone could actually see me.

It had been the best night that I’ve had in a long time. The type of night where I didn’t feel the need to drown myself in whatever liquor they had behind the bar at Haven.

As Jade approached me quietly in a pair of grey sweatpants with her damp hair that she was drying with a towel hanging at her shoulders, I felt that need. The sight of her knowing lips scrunched sideways on her face tried to persuade me to dive into the cabinet by my knees, grabbing a bottle or two by the neck, and downing them to numb myself from whatever she was about to say.

Post-shower, she was glowing. No makeup on, sweats, hair disheveled and stringy from the water… She was always gorgeous, and she forever will be. No matter what.

Since our conversation, if one would call it that, in the garage on Thursday, the two of us had barely spoken. She worked both Friday and Saturday, while I hung around the apartment, wallowing in my nerves and the occasional shot of liquor to get rid of the thoughts.

We were better apart, and I wondered if these two days had proved that to her as well, because whenever she came back home we were walking on eggshells. Afraid to speak, afraid to say anything that would trigger another barking match.

With her propping herself against the counter across from me, I was unsure of anything that was about to ensue.

Jade, who had looked at me twice, tossed the towel on top of a counter and folded her hands in front of her. I trained my eyes to stay on the steamy coffee in my mug, counting the tiny little bubbles that lived along the edges of the ceramic.

The air was tight, and getting tighter, but I wasn’t sure if that was just me. My nervous system was beginning to strangle me from the inside out, my joints tightening the longer she stood in front of me without saying a word.

Flickering my eyes up to hers, I watched with bated breath as she parted her lips, her voice coming out soft, and gentle, and genuine.

“Can we talk about what happened between us on Thursday, I just-”

“Felix kissed me.”

The words slipped out of me in a whisper. A whisper that didn’t have much effect over her being. Maintaining her tedious expression, she only gave her head a small nod, lips still parted from where her almost question was cut off. She didn’t move much else.

“I kissed Felix.” I added, knowing that it wasn’t just the blonde Aussie’s fault. “We kissed. At Haven.”

She didn’t move.

In the past when I had told her about the other girls, had told her word for word everything we had done, what I had said to them, what they had said to me, where it happened, every detail- her eyebrows would squish together, and her lips would pout. The color in her face would drain, she’d appear sick to her stomach. Her energy would withdraw completely, and she’d close up within herself.

This time, she didn’t move.

She knew.

“I heard,” she said.

“From who?” I whispered, my voice growing shakier by the second.

Jade pulled her lips into a line. “Minho.”

Right, the witness. I knew that.

When had they spoken about it? Did they talk right after it had happened? Did Jade show up to Haven to see him after her shift at work? She didn’t get home until pretty late that night. Did Minho go to the restaurant instead? A place where they’d be safe from all prying eyes. I know they both had gotten off pretty late, maybe they had gone to his place, and he had told her there, and maybe they had…

Jade’s hands were on my shoulders after they had taken the mug from me and put it on the counter top. Her sweet face was a blur to me as tears pooled in my eyes and a sob lodged in my throat. I couldn’t make out anything she was saying to me, all I could hear was the pounding of my heart in my ears and the release of my quick breaths that I sucked in even faster.

I wasn’t sure when she got me to sit down in one of the chairs at our table, but she did. Sitting on my lap she took my face in her hands and kissed the tip of my nose gently, dragging her thumbs over the apples of my cheeks while she waited for me to calm down. She didn’t say much, not that I could hear. She just waited. She watched.

“Jade,” I gasped, blinking through the tears. Raising my hands I tried to reach for hers, and she took them in an instant. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Shhh, stop,” she mumbled. “Take a breath, then talk to me.”

Air filled my lungs only halfway. It hurt to take it any further. “Jade… I don’t know… I don’t know why I do this.”

She frowned. “Do what, Jinnie?”

A gasp ran through me before I muttered, “Hurt you. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I am the way I am, I put you through hell, day after day, you don’t deserve any of it, Jade, you don’t deserve it.” She wiped tears from my cheek and shook her head.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “I love you, Jinnie, I do. I want you to get better, I want to help you. Let me help you.” She kissed the tip of my nose again before they pressed to my forehead.

Even with her in front of me, on my lap, comforting me through the panic, I still wished it were him.

“I don’t think you can,” I said, hushed and shaky, meeting her disappointed gaze. “I really, really wish you could. But, I don’t… I don’t think you can, Jade.”

“So, what, Felix is gonna do that?” The name sent a shock through my heart. Her tone switched into something not angry, but entirely mad.

“God, Felix, no, I’m not- I won’t use him for that,” I groaned. “I-”

“Use him?”

“You know what I mean!” It was my turn to raise my voice. Just when I thought this was going to go well.

“Okay, okay,” Jade soothed to my surprise, giving my hands a squeeze. Maybe this will finish smoothly. Her eyes were still swimming with hope, looking at me like I was her everything. It hurt.

“I just, I feel so confused,” I whispered. Lowering her brows, she questioned me with a tilt of her head. “How are you still here?”

Now her eyes were wild. “What the fuck do you mean?”

“Minho, Jade.” My tone turned vile. “I’m talking about Minho.”

She gulped. I watched her physically react to his name, much like I reacted to Felix’s. “What… What about him?”

Licking my lips, I shook my head as more tears welled up in my eyes. “I think you like him,” I forced out of my mouth for the first time.

“Jinnie,” she sighed, exasperated. She let go of my hands and cupped my cheeks once more, touching the tip of her nose to mine. “I like you, I love you.” Her eyes fluttered shut. “Minho is a friend, that’s it. I don’t like him, I don’t want him. He is just a friend.” She backed away and looked down at me with an unconvincing smile. “I’m sorry if I did anything to make you question my loyalty. He’s a friend, that’s it. I love you. I love you so much.”

Her words went in one ear and out the other. The more she added on, the more sap she piled on top almost made me wish she had just admitted it.

Thinning my lips into a line, I shook my head. “Why are you still with me?”

She hesitated. “Because I love you.”

“There’s gotta be more, that’s not enough,” I choked. “I don’t… I don’t believe you.”

“Do you remember the first time we met?” Jade asked, narrowing her eyes. I nodded. I remember it all, I could recite it word for word. It was about a month before I met Felix. “I walked into Haven with Chan, thinking I would drink myself silly, or find a meaningless hook up. Instead I found you.” She paused for a second to take in my expression that didn’t change.

“Yeah,” I muttered, giving her very little to go off of.

One of her hands ran through my hair, twisting the ends around a finger. “You seemed so cool, so funny. We were laughing, even Chan was having fun. We fed off of each other, our energy… I was hooked from day one, Jinnie.” She sighed, then gave the skin of my cheek a squeeze. “Plus, who can resist this face.”

Not many, I wanted to say, but I kept it to myself. I’m not even sure she realized what she was saying.

“You’re so beautiful, Jinnie,” she whispered. “It drives me crazy.” Typical.

“That’s why you’re still with me, because I’m beautiful,” I said. “That’s cute.”

Jade frowned. “Jinnie, I’m-”

“I know,” I closed my eyes. “You love me.” I listened to her take a deep breath. “Jade,” I opened my eyes and looked up at her. “I love you too, but this is actually driving me crazy. How are you not as exhausted as me?”

She opened her mouth twice to speak, but nothing came out. She simply shook her head.

“Just say it, you like him.”

She groaned. “I don’t.”

“Don’t lie to my face, I’m always honest with you, you can tell me,” I said. My eyes narrowed, studying the way she moved. “You like Minho.”

“And you like Felix,” she said.

“I do,” I nodded, and she scoffed. “Your turn, admit it.”

She jumped off of me and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “You’re unbelievable.” Lifting my hands out at my sides, I so badly wanted to crumble into pieces at her feet, but she was lying to me.

I wasn’t going to let her see me this vulnerable again, not until she admitted it.

“I’m honest,” I shouted after her as she stormed away to the bedroom.

One of her manicured hands gripped the corner of the wall as she pulled herself back to shout back at me. “You certainly aren’t loyal.”

Felix’s hands clamped to my waist, his fingers gripping my shirt as if to keep him on his feet. His big brown eyes were half closed, relaxed while his body swayed to the beat of the music pouring out of the speakers over top of us. The dance floor, crowded with bodies of humans who shot us occasional glances, had never been this packed. At least not that I’ve ever experienced.

Holding Felix up, my arms around his back, I shrugged off the glares, trying to not even give anyone else the time of day. Felix was hanging on to me, drunker than I’d ever seen him, my attention was his, I had to keep him safe, that was the priority of the night.

That, and catching Jade in a lie.

It was almost two weeks ago now that she refused to admit her true feelings. True feelings every single one of us knew that she had. After our spat in the kitchen, after I’d broken down to her and finally admitted it all, she still wouldn’t give in.

For a week, she tried to keep things normal, she’d ask me about work, ask me if I’d be around. She invited me to Haven when she’d go, and she told me her work schedule for the week. It was as normal as the last few weeks have been. As normal as we seemed to be recently. Though she came home later, and a few nights wouldn’t come home at all.

By the time the second week came around I knew it was over. It had to be over. Spending most of my time either at work or with Felix, the two of us just spending time together, I barely saw or heard from her. At some point in the middle I’d gone three whole days without seeing her. Felix was able to come around the apartment and I didn’t have to stress about her coming home to find him there.

We spent a lot of time talking the past two weeks, Felix and I. He told me more about his family, and he heard a helluva lot about Jade. Makes me wonder if that’s why he was so attached to me at the moment, not caring that everyone we knew was in the same room. Not caring that I came with Jade tonight, I drove us here. The ride was suffocating, entirely silent and awkward, Jade applying that mauve lipstick in the side mirror the moment we pulled into the lot.

Felix had come with Changbin, the two arriving after their day at work, Felix still wearing a pale blue button down and a pair of dark denim jeans. A silver chain peeked out of the collar, and now that his chest was pressed to mine it glimmered over his heart, the top three buttons of his shirt somehow coming undone in the last couple of hours.

His blonde hair was unruly, nothing like it had been when he’d gotten here, drunk Felix messed it all up. I’m not sure sober Felix would approve of drunk Felix’s doings, considering he hasn’t made another move on me since we shared a kiss some time ago and here he was gyrating his hips into mine.

There wasn’t an ounce of my being that was bothered by it, I mean, the hottest guy I’d ever met was throwing himself at me, his hands dragging all over my body, his half conscious self dancing against me like he wanted me naked, and my relationship that wasn’t even a relationship hasn’t been a relationship in weeks. She had stopped giving me anything. It was over. It had to be.

“Are you having fun?” Felix asked me, pulling me out of my thoughts. Even in his state he was able to clock me. His hands slid up my back, his chest laying flush to mine.

Nodding, I blinked and looked down at him with a small smile. “Yeah,” I said without much infliction.

A pout found his full lips, one that taunted me. “You’re a liar.”

“You’re drunk,” I said, allowing myself to laugh.

Felix laughed with me, his head falling forward onto my shoulder. “I am.” His voice was gentle among the slurs. “I’m sorry.”

Taking a hand behind his head I guided him back up by threading my fingers in his hair, catching him as his head lolled backward. We shared another laugh. “Don’t apologize.”

“But, I-”

“No,” I shook my head, dragging my fingers over his scalp.

“You haven’t had anything to drink,” he breathed, regaining his own strength, standing up on his own.

Pressing my lips together, I sighed. He was right, since I’d been here I hadn’t had anything to drink, not even something that didn’t have alcohol. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t. Tonight was about catching Jade doing something I��d be doing instead. Something I was… already doing. Alcohol would get in the way. I had to be sober to make sure what I was seeing was real.

“I don’t need a drink,” I shrugged. Part of me wanted to tell him that I also wasn’t going to drink because he was trashed. Not that that has stopped me before, friends being drunk didn’t mean I couldn’t get drunk, but that’s how it would go. I knew if I drank, I’d do it till I was plastered, and for some reason Felix was preventing it.

Batting his eyelashes he smiled. “That’s so grown up of you,” he said, leaning into me. “I thought you’d drink when you told me you were coming here.” Lowering my brows I smiled to keep him talking. “With everything happening, yanno?” I nodded. He rolled his body against mine. “You drink to avoid it all, don’t you?” If his hands didn’t slip around my front and draw up and down my chest I think his words would’ve stung more than he intended to. “I wanna make you forget everything.”

My breath hitched in my throat as one of his hands slipped lower, between my legs. “Felix,” I breathed with a slight shake of my head. “You’re drunk, hang on.”

Reaching for his wrists, he only giggled and snatched mine. He pulled my arms around his shoulders and put his around my back where they started. A smirk rested on his lips as he closed the space between us, sliding a knee between my legs, satisfied with the way it made my lips pop open and my body tense up. Grinding his hips against my thigh, he was half hard, I could feel it.

Tipping my head back, I let out a sigh. “Felix, calm down, you’re-”

“Drunk, I know,” he said, his tone suddenly somewhat harsh. Exchanging a look with him, his eyes softened. “Just dance with me.”

“Okay,” I whispered, allowing my body to fall in time with him. The grin that met his lips was priceless.

His fingers slipped into my hair, gently tugging at the length that brushed over my shoulders. I didn’t bother pulling it up tonight, most times it bothered me to have it in a tie. As his hands delved further into the strands I was thanking whichever god that I didn’t tie it back. His touch was intoxicating, crazy to think I ever needed to drink to have this type of electricity run through me.

Pushing my body into his, feeling out how this was going to go, knowing that everyone was in the room somewhere, Felix bit down on his bottom lip. It was exhilarating to watch him let go, to feel him harboring not one single care of where he was, who he was with, or where he was. Over the past two weeks, having broken the ice some more, having gotten through that ‘always happy!’ shell of his, he deserved a night like tonight.

Hanging onto me, grinding against me, brushing his nose over mine as his parted lips ghosted my own, he couldn’t give two shits who shot a disapproving glare his way. Our way. It was empowering, the energy began to affect me, my anxieties for the night dissipating even if it were only for a few minutes.

It was me and Felix.

That was it.

I finally felt like myself. A warmth began growing beneath my ribs, within me, in a place that’s normally cold, empty. It spread to my chest, my heart rate rising slightly as I smiled with Felix, my hands grasping him tighter, keeping him close.

Singing along to the music, a pop song I’d never heard before, Felix sang to me. The girl's voice was singing about love, or being in love, with somebody she didn’t have, someone she wanted to have. He was singing to me, drunk or not, the fantasy he and the girl sang about was me. And he was mine.

“Mariah Carey,” Felix blurted out, grabbing handfuls of my face, squeezing the fat of my cheeks. “I know one woman.”

Laughing, I nudged his nose with mine and shook my head. “Proud of you.” I smiled.

“When I close my eyes, you come and you take me…” Felix ran his hands down my chest, pressing a finger over my heart. Dropping his head backward, he bounced on his knees and laughed as I scrambled to catch him, thinking he was falling. “Sweet, sweet fantasy baby…” He spun around in my arms being sure to bump his ass into my hips before he came all the way around. When he met my eyes with a devilish little grin, he couldn’t help but laugh at the way I sarcastically scowled.

“Felix.” Tone a bit sharp, I gave him a look and he collapsed head first into my chest.

“I know, I know, I know,” he rambled. “I can’t help it, I’m sorry.” His accent truly was sweet music to my ears. There wasn’t any way I could actually be upset with him. “You’re the first one I actually believe.”

My heart sank to my knees. Folding my arms over his back, keeping him rocking side to side to a new song, I placed my chin over his blonde hair and took a deep breath.

You’re the first one I actually believe.

Open about who he was, Felix didn’t give two shits if anyone knew he was gay. He’s been out since he was fifteen, it’s been years of growing thick skin and learning to be unbothered by people like Minho and Han. It’d just be entirely different if it had been his choice to be out since he was fifteen. Some of the things I’d learnt the last fourteen days.

Felix attended an all boys school when he was young, when he started high school. Growing up he knew he wasn’t like everyone else, he wasn’t like his father, he wasn’t like the other men in his family, nor did he feel like his friends when they’d talk about girls that they liked. He played pretend, he said he liked girls, he had a girlfriend he’d only shared some kisses with, but he’d never be able to do anything else because, well, his body didn’t want to.

It happened his sophomore year. Confiding in his closest friend, his best friend, he asked for help. A summer night, like one that lived within Felix’s heart, he and his best friend attempted to figure out what was wrong, what stopped him from experiencing what his friends were experiencing. In his bedroom all night long, they talked about it, they watched the tapes, looked at the magazines, and he was bored. His friend clocked it first, when Pamela Anderson was on the receiving end of a cringe. He pressed his lips to Felix’s neck, and it was game over.

They spent that night, and many nights together. Hiding any feelings they may have had for one another, his friend having them long before Felix did, the reason he had kissed him in the first place, they kept their little secret to themselves. Sneaking off at parties, drunk on whatever the older boys smuggled inside, it was at one of them that it happened. A mutual friend found them in an upstairs bathroom, where it was dark, where not many of the boys came around, and saw Felix’s hand down the front of his best friend's jeans.

Naturally, his friend pushed him away, shattering Felix’s heart, the cracks filling up quickly with shame and guilt, but more fear than ever. There wasn’t anything he could say to defend himself, not when both boys started shouting horrible things at him, no matter if one of them was still sporting a hardon or not.

His dad picked him up that night. Felix managed to call him after his secret spread through the party in record time and he was shunned by every boy in the house. That was the night he came out to his father, in the car, still a little drunk. He was fifteen, he was gay, and he was entirely heart broken. Over time the bullying got so bad he had to switch schools, attending a different high school for his junior and senior years. He patched himself up from what had happened to him, but that didn’t stop the struggle of the years that followed, having to put up with men who weren’t sure if they were like him or not, wasting his time, using him to figure themselves out. One heartbreak after the next…

Did it terrify me that he clearly had feelings for me? Of course. Here he was, draped all over the boy who’d fuck anything that walked, knowing that I knew what he’d been through, knowing what I was, how I was, and he didn’t have a care. Though I knew, deep down, there was no way in hell I could, or should, or would cause this boy an ounce of pain. I wouldn’t let him do anything he’d regret in this state.

Besides, other than keeping my eye on him, I had another task on hand.

Spinning Felix and I around, that task was glaring at me from where she sat at the bar.

“Christ,” I muttered.

Felix nuzzled his cheek against mine and giggled. “What?”

Lowering my brows, I narrowed my eyes and sent her glare straight back. The way her arms were crossed and her chin was tipped down, like she was analyzing the two of us was entirely belittling. She wasn’t judging us because we were two guys, that much I knew. Unlike the boy she won’t admit she likes, Jade isn’t an asshole. She’s just complicated.

“It’s Jade,” I said to him, keeping my lips close to his ear. His groan, that he wouldn’t have made so audible if he wasn’t trashed, made me somewhat smirk. “She’s watching us. It’s been so long now, I don’t know why she still cares. I told her the truth. This is the truth. Why is she still holding onto this?”

Felix looked up at me and pouted. “I’m the truth?”

Meeting his eyes I smiled. “We are. Lix, I told you this. I’m not with her, I can’t be. Not with what you’ve done to me.” My words fell on drunk ears, and that somehow made it easier for me to speak them. He wasn’t sober, he couldn’t therapeutically analyze me. Not accurately at least.

“What have I done to you?” Felix whispered, his wide eyes falling on my lips.

Inhaling, I pushed my lips to the shell of his ear and sighed, feeling him melt into me. “Everything. Just keep dancing.”

When I glanced toward the bar again with a sigh of relief that Felix started singing along to the music once more, my stomach flipped over. Blood running cold at the sight of the man with silvery hair staring at me while Jade stared at him. As over it as I was, it didn’t mean it didn’t bother me seeing the two of them together.

Here we go, I thought. Catch her in a lie.

They did nothing more than speak. Frustratingly, they only shared words.

If they did anything else, I missed it. By the time they were looking at each other, a man taller than myself bumped into Felix’s back, knocking us both off our feet for a moment, turning my focus away from the bar.

“Hey, watch it,” I said. Felix’s hands gripped my shirt, keeping his balance by leaning on me.

The man was older, possibly ten or so years older than us. His bright blue eyes met mine, piercing through my hardened exterior. Slicked back dirty blonde hair with a curl laying over the left side of his forehead, he was handsome, and he was built. Definitely some sort of jock. Somebody we definitely shouldn’t bother with unless we wanted our asses kicked.

Dressed in his dark blue collared shirt accenting his wide shoulders, and his tighter denim jeans, he gave Felix and I a once over and scoffed before he strutted away with a roll of his eyes.

“Jerk,” I mumbled, and Felix put a finger over my lips.

“Stop,” he said, giving me a look. Could’ve sworn for a second the interaction had sobered him up, but then he tugged at my bottom lip gently with his fingertip and that idea was thrown out into the shitty parking lot. “I wanna kiss you so bad.”

“No, you don’t,” I sighed, tightening my gaze. “That’s the alcohol talking.”

“Drunk words are sober-”

“Felix!” I attempted to reprimand him, but a laugh came out along with it, making him laugh as well. His head tipped backward, his laughter filling the space, warming my heart. “You have to calm down. When you’re sober we’ll talk about this.”

Obliging to my request with a funny whine, he went back to dancing, minding his business, while I pointed my attention to the bar. The beat up wooden slab was now vacant where Jade and Minho once sat, short empty shot glasses left in their wake. They were gone, they were drinking, and I didn’t get to see where they’d escaped to.

Without thinking I started for the bar, Felix being dragged along with me, his feet stumbling beneath him, giggling as he tried to keep up. Dina was working tonight, the blonde curly haired blue eyed bartender I’d met a few weeks ago, the one who told me she was… On my side. She saw me coming, posting up where Jade and Minho had been sitting with her elbows perched on the wood.

“Hi, boys,” she shot Felix a smile, one that turned into a smirk as she focused her attention on me. Situating Felix on one of the stools, I wrapped an arm around his back to keep him upright. “What can I do for ya’?”

Sighing, I rolled my eyes, at myself, and cleared my throat. “Where’d they go?” Felix laid his head back on my chest, his eyes closing. One of his hands ran up my thigh, making me jump. Grabbing onto it, I yanked it away and he laughed.

Dina, withholding her own laugh, shrugged. “If you’re talkin’ about Jade and Minho, I have no idea. That girl barely gives me the time of day whenever she’s here. Shitty tipper, too.”

“Sorry,” I grumbled, shaking my head. Glancing around the room briefly before I focused back on Dina, the two were completely out of sight.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault,” she said. “She fits right in with those assholes who have money.” I rolled my eyes again, this time in agreement. “Don’t know why they all stick around here, in Soro. They belong with the snobs in Tamoe. Why you worried about them anyway?” She gestured to Felix with a simple look, returning it to me.

I’m not sure why it was so humiliating to admit. “I’m trying to see if she’s lying to me.”

Dina, pressing her lips into a line, leaned forward on the bar and parroted, “Trying to see if she’s lying to me.”

It sounded so much worse coming from her mouth considering Felix was glassy eyed and laid up on me with his fingers toying with the silver chain around my neck. “I told you this last week, we’re done, me and Jade.”

“Then, again, why you worried about them?” Dina cocked her head sideways, her blonde curls falling behind her shoulders. “Seems to me you got everything you want right here. Let the rest go.”

If only it were that simple.

I had to prove a point. I had to catch her. I had to see it for myself, that I’m not as shitty as everyone makes me out to be. That every single one of us is playing the same game. A game I never intended on becoming a pawn in. A game I wanted out of, a game I was sick of. Something I wouldn’t allow to happen to Felix and I. It was done, the cycle was done.

But, Christ, it was exhausting.

Dina was right. I had everything I wanted gazing up at me, touching me, saying he wanted me too, and here I was worried about a past I wanted to let go of.

Make it make sense.

“Come on, Lix,” I breathed, hooking my arm underneath his, pulling him off the stool. Not giving Dina a proper goodbye, I didn’t look back. My focus was forward, I needed to find them.

She was me. I wasn’t crazy. I wasn’t making it all up in my head.

“Wait, wait,” Felix muttered, trying to pull me back. He got me to pause, my brain only stopping for him, and when I looked at him, his brows were all twisted. “Are we going to Changbin? To find Changbin?”

Pulling my lips into a frown, I nodded. Changbin. A friend I’d been neglecting these past few weeks. “We are,” I said. “I’m sorry, Lix, I just need to find Minho and Jade.”

Holding my arms, Felix blinked a few times and tilted his head to the side. “I know,” he said after a second, “I just don’t want you to go near Changbin.” It was my eyebrows turn to go all twisted. Felix placed a hand to my chest and leaned into my ear. “He doesn’t say nice things about you, Hyunjin.”

Drunk words are sober thoughts.

How long had he been holding this in?

“What are you talking about?”

Felix pouted. “Recently, I mean. Whenever he’s around the others he doesn’t defend you, and it’s sad. It makes me sad.”

My lips parted, half shocked. His words take me back to a time before I knew him, really knew him. When I once thought that this friend group of ours would break, and we’d all be forced apart, forced to choose sides. Changbin was always on my side when the thought would occur. It wasn’t a second thought that the friend I’d had since before we were in college would have my back, stick by my side.

“Why, uh, why haven’t you… told me this before?” I asked, watching Felix’s inner turmoil take over.

“It’s only started recently,” he whined, brows flipping upward. “I promise, he hasn’t always been like this. Think it’s jus’ because of what’s happening right now.”

Nodding, taking a hand to his cheek to soothe him and his rambling, I said, “Okay, okay, it’s okay.” Felix’s pout relaxed, his eyes flickering between both of mine. “Do you defend me around the others?”

“I’m barely around the others,” he answered fast, entirely honest. “I don’t get a word in when I am, they don’t let me talk. They don’t… talk to me.”

After a gulp and a drag of my fingers over his cheekbone, I mumbled, “I’m sorry.”

His hand latched onto mine. “It’s not your fault. They could just leave you alone.”

They can't leave me alone. They can’t leave me alone because I can’t leave them alone. They’d bother me until the moment I let them go, and though I wished that day would come soon, I couldn’t let go.

“I’ll deal with Changbin later, okay?” I nodded my head, making him nod along with me. Little blonde pieces of hair caressed his forehead, right over his warm brown eyes. Brushing them away, I tried to smile. “Let’s just go talk to them for a second.”

At the high top tables toward the back corner of Haven, three boys sat around the beaten up wood with glasses littered across the top. Felix and I were approaching without knowing how much any of them had drunk this far into the night. My hopes were set on a shit ton, especially with the way Felix clung to me. Silently I prayed that in their own drunk blurriness Felix’s would go unnoticed.

His words lived in the back of my mind as I put my mission for the night back to the forefront, the Changbin thing he brought up. As we walked up to the table, it was a shock to see him sitting beside Chan, nudging him with his elbow while they laughed. They looked like natural friends, like they’d been buddies for years. Changbin had never warmed up to Chan like this, this was the first time I’ve seen them this way.

“Look out, boys.” The boy with the voice that drove pins into my skin every time. Han Jisung, nestled in his chair right next to Changbin. All three of them straightened up, their stares falling over Felix and I as I took up space next to Chan, the Aussie raising a brow.

Knowing he had to have been taking in Felix’s state, I sighed and tried to keep my voice as low as possible, my eyes on Chan’s and Chan’s only. “This is going to sound weird.”

He furrowed both brows. “I don’t know if I want you to finish then.”

“Please,” I nearly whispered, maintaining face. Chan glanced toward Han who snickered, boiling my blood. “I’m just looking for Jade, do you know where she went?”

“Why should I tell you?” Chan asked, shifting in his seat to face me. Though I was much taller, Chan was much wider, more muscular. “I do know where she went, but do you think you deserve to know?”

Felix, clinging to my waist from behind, tried to speak up. Shushing him in a messy rush of a glance behind me, Han snickered again and I longed to reach across the table to lay my hand across his cheek. Facing Chan once more, placing a hand to the back of his chair, I dug my nails into the wood and pressed my lips together.

“You and I both know who she’s with,” I muttered, venom in my eyes. Chan’s strong stance faltered the slightest. A consequence of being a good man. “You and I both know that I am not the only one causing problems here.” A quick glance to Changbin, he was focused on his glass. “She’s had the choice to leave me. Why am I made out to be the bad guy?”

“Uh,” Han stammered theatrically, lifting his glass before he took a decent swig. “Because you are, Hyunjin.” Smacking his lips together, the cup hit the table with a bang, then he pointed a finger my way. “You always have been. You always will be. And, not just to Jade, to us, too.” Changbin didn’t move an inch. My stomach roiled in discomfort. “I mean, look at what you’ve done just walking over here, we were having so much fun and you and your dark depressive cloud shit all over us.”

My fingertips went numb, the pins and needles springing to life.

“What the fuck, Han?” Felix spat, loosening his grip around me, leaning into the table. I didn’t even have the strength within me to pull him back.

“You’ll feel it, too,” Han winked at the blonde. “Eventually. He gets them all, always. No matter what.” Pins and needles shot up through my arms, into my shoulders, invading my chest.

“You arrogant asshole.” Felix’s accent made the words sound effortless, so regal, yet with so much more emphasis. “You’re such a sad excuse for a friend.” Everyone, including myself, shocked to hear him speak this way, as Felix hasn’t had anything not nice to say, ever, watched him calmly throw these words at the boy across the table. “Riding the tail end of your fathers success, you’ve never once understood what it’s like to struggle. He’s handed everything to you, you’ve gotten everything you’ve ever wanted, that’s not a good fucking look. Nepotism at its fucking finest.”

Han threw his head backward with a singular laugh. “Ugh, Felix, you’re so right! I’ve inherited almost everything. The job, the money, the success, and it’s all thanks to my father.” He shot me a degrading look. “What’d yours give you, Jinnie?”

“You’re disgusting, Han Jisung,” Felix said. Feeling his fingers tighten around me, somewhere, he helped ease the anxiety bubbling in my gut.

That is until Han crooned, “Brave coming from you, gay boy.”

That word.

That word that had Chan and Changbin reacting. Both holding up some type of hand, mumbling some type of word toward Han, something I couldn’t hear, something I couldn’t see.

Slinging an arm around Felix’s back, I ushered us toward the bathroom, away from the three of them. The pins and needles were spiking more so than before, spreading up to my face, my lips going numb. Shooting down my legs, into my ankles, it overtook my entire body.

It wasn’t until I was in a bathroom stall, in the quiet, with Felix’s hands around my neck that I was able to come to. His thumbs were wiping beneath my eyes, where tears had fallen.

“Don’t listen to them,” he was whispering, his eyes dancing all over my face. “Don’t let him get to you.” Him. Han.

“He’s right,” I sighed, wanting to wrap my arms around him, instead I kept my hands over my middle.

Felix shook his head. “No, he’s not. Nothing he said, nothing he’s ever said is right.”

Blinking, my tears fell onto his fingers. Shuddering a breath, I cried and shook my head. “What if it happens to you, too?”

My whisper paralyzed him. Brown eyes going wide, thick brows flipping over and pooling into the center of his forehead, Felix whispered, “Whether or not this turns into something more I’ll always care for you, Hyunjin.”

“You’re drunk,” I said, sniffling.

The cutest smile appeared on his lips, his brows still flipped over. “I am drunk,” he whispered, making both of us laugh. “But, shit, I’m having the best night. As selfish as that sounds ‘cause of what’s happening… Hyunjin, I’m having so much fun with you.” My tears ceased, my heart pounding louder between my lungs. “I need you to literally forget everything they’re telling you, everything they’re saying to you, because that isn’t you.”

Poking my tongue out between my lips, I tried to nod. “Even when you’re trashed you’re a good therapist.”

Felix swallowed his grin, dragging his thumbs over my cheeks once more. “That’s not what I’m doing here. You’re not a case for me to fix. I care about you, a lot, and I’ll say it however many times it takes for you to believe me. You’ve got baggage, yes, but we all do. I want to help you ‘cause… I really like you, and I know you’ll help me with mine once yours gets better.”

“I really like you, too, Lix,” I whispered.

Shocked, he moved a centimeter closer, pressing his body against mine. “Thought we weren’t supposed to talk like this.”

Focusing my eyes down on his lips, I breathed through a gentle laugh and gave him a slight shake of my head. “I like you.” Looking into his eyes that were full of hope, I started to smile. “You’re… different. Real.”

Felix sighed, eyes darting between my gaze and my lips. “Is this when I tell you to calm down?” Feeling my body relax itself, I slid both my hands around his waist and held him close. “Can’t even tell you you’re drunk,” he whispered, teasing me with what I’d been telling him on the dance floor.

Tipping my chin, I brushed our noses together and fluttered my eyes shut. His breath through his parted lips danced over my skin, taunting me, drawing me closer. “Tell me to stop,” I whispered.

“Never.” Felix caught my lips with his, his whisper forgotten in the air that expelled from him in a sigh. His lips, plush, so incredibly soft, fitting with mine ever so perfectly. Whether it was because we’d gotten past the we feel things part, or the pressure from the night, this kiss was unlike any other.

Rolling his chest into mine, Felix’s hands slid to my neck, wrapping around the back, keeping me over him. Pressing my fingers into his waist I let them slip underneath his shirt, the smooth skin soft, warm, inviting. He seemed to mold into me, against me, a perfect fit, his smaller frame seeming to click into place with my larger one.

I know I shouldn’t be kissing him, shouldn’t be letting this happen right now. Not while he was intoxicated, and certainly not when I was here for a completely different reason… A reason that didn’t seem to matter anymore. With the way Felix curled into me, my mind wiped. Feeling my skin heat up and my thoughts warping into Felix and Felix only, it had to stop, or it’d go too far.

Taking my hands to his shoulders I tugged him away and smirked at his pout. With swollen lips and shiny eyes he blinked a few times and the tiniest smile pricked onto his freckled face. “I liked that one,” he muttered.

A giggle fell from me. A giggle. “You’re so cute.”

“You’re so hot,” he said with no hesitation.

“Stop,” I eyed him through a smile.

Groaning, Felix let his weight go in my hold and dropped his head backward. “Don’t go back there!”

Catching him, I couldn’t help but giggle again. “Lixie, come on,” I said. “You know we can’t just do that.”

Standing up straight as if he hadn’t ragdolled seconds ago, he furrowed his brows. “Why not?”

“Because…” Pausing to gather reasons why we weren’t allowed to kiss one another, there wasn’t anything I could think up that sounded reasonable enough. Felix took a thumb to my lips and toyed with the bottom one.

Raising a brow, in a low voice, he said, “Thought so.”

“Lix, you’ve been drinking, that’s why.”

Looking up at me, his thumb still on my lip, he pondered to himself for a few moments, then smiled. “I still dream about kissing you like that when I’m sober.”

Sucking in a deep, shaky breath, I attempt to stop him once more, but before the words can come out, the bathroom door is opened and all of the outside noise from Haven interrupts me. Glancing down at our feet, it’d be very easy to tell that we were two men trying to occupy the same spot in a closed bathroom stall. Feeling my blood run cold, especially over the fact that Felix didn’t notice, or care, I maneuvered him off of me, putting an arms length between us.

Felix, milliseconds away from protesting, brows twisting in confusion, a voice from outside the stall cut in first.

“Hyunjin?”

It was Changbin.

Audibly sighing with relief, I threw my head against the plastic wall of the stall and shut my eyes.

“It’s just me, I promise,” he said, keeping his distance from the stall we were in. There were only two in the bathroom anyway, though there was plenty of room for more. Something I’ve brought up to Arnold numerous times.

“We’re in here,” I said, looking down at Felix whose glare could kill, and he was sending it toward me. “What?” I whispered harshly.

“Chan and I, we, uh, we put Han in his place,” Changbin said. I could hear the remorse in his voice. “They might have their issues, but no one should talk like that.”

They. The other side of the friend group he’s seemed to find himself on. Felix’s glare made sense.

“Um,” I stammered, wincing as Felix’s grip tightened on me. “Thanks, I guess. It’s still fucked up.”

“Oh, I know,” Changbin spoke a bit louder, as if to emphasize his point, a habit of his. “It’s fucked up, I mean, Felix, I wouldn’t ever let anyone say that to you, and now… Hyunjin, now that you’re…”

“Not gay,” I muttered. Felix bobbed his head, his eyes glistening with something related to happiness. I couldn’t push the words out, but this was Changbin, I’ve spent my whole life with him. “Just… Really liking… Felix.”

“We’ll work on that,” Felix whispered, smiling at the same time.

“Right,” Changbin said, clearing his throat. “Just want you guys to know I’m on your side.”

Felix switched back to the glare, and I’m suddenly reminded that apparently Changbin has been double teaming us. Taking him under my arm, I unlock the stall and step out, giving my old friend an uneasy onceover. He took into account the way Felix held onto me and the way I clung around him as well.

“You, uh, you and Jade,” Changbin said to me.

Gritting my teeth, I mumbled, “It’s done. It’s been done. The only thing that’s happened between us,” I gestured to Felix with a nod of my head, “While I was with her, was a kiss.”

“That I initiated,” the Aussie said softly. “It wasn’t even his fault.”

Turning my chin, I lowered my brows. “I mean, I wanted to,” I said. “You know that, right? I kissed you back, it wasn’t a-”

Felix took a hand to my chin with a flattened smile and turned me back to Changbin who watched with the ghost of a smile.

“You’ve got him, don’t you?” Changbin asked Felix, who answered with a blush of his freckled cheeks. Focusing back on me, a new amusement in his eyes, Changbin asked, “Why the interest in Jade still?”

Felix scoffed. “His mission.”

Changbin laughed. “His mission?”

Able to set aside his tiff about Changbin at my expense, Felix laughed with him, even more so as I lifted a hand in defense.

“You know why I am,” I shot a glare at Felix, lifting it to Changbin who crossed his arms and leaned against one of the sinks. Felix placed a hand to my chest, assuring me it was jokes. “Bin, you all… They all think that I’m the only bad guy here.”

Changbin nodded, his eyes shifting into his analyzing ones. A look he somewhat shared with Felix when their therapist was turned on. “Accountability, huh.” Sharing a look with Felix, he perked a brow. “You’ve done a shit ton in such a short time.”

Felix swallowed a smile, tapping my chest one more time. “Wasn’t me, it was all him.”

Unsure of what they were talking about, I swapped my attention between the two psychoanalyzers and narrowed my glare. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I know what I’ve done, okay? I fucked up, a lot. I’m not saying I deserve to get off scot free…” Pausing, I glanced at Felix. “Think that’s why I won’t let you kiss me.”

Felix wore the amusement Changbin once did. “I did kiss you. Twice. For a long time.”

“Whatever,” I squeezed my eyes shut, brushing it all away while Changbin laughed.

“Punishing yourself, or trying to,” he said, nodding. “You’ve put yourself in timeout. Or… you’ve tried to.” Changbin winked at Felix. “You’re a naughty boy. You see what he’s been trying to do.”

“He doesn't deserve punishment,” Felix whispered, and Changbin half agreed.

“This doesn’t explain why you need to know where Jade is,” Changbin began to question. “Or, as you said before, Jade and Minho. You’re standing here with Felix, what’s the difference if she’s with Minho?”

That nausea roiled within me. The Jade and Minho nausea had the possibility to rip me apart from the inside out.

“Because,” I began, tone low and shaking. “I’ve owned up to my fuckery. And though there may be more than she’s got, she won’t own up to hers. You’ve all watched it happen. I know you’ve seen it, right?” The way his gaze dropped told me everything. “Exactly. So, why am I the one getting all the piss?” Both boys were silent. “I haven’t witnessed anything. Tonight I intended to catch her in her lies. She tells me she has no interest in him. She tells me all this time she’s only wanted me, and nothing but me.” Laughing aloud, a singular sound startling both men, I said, “You’ve seen how I’ve been, who wants that and only that!?”

Felix stirred beside me. “I do.” His voice was quiet, small.

Looking down at him and his wide shining eyes, my heart swelled.

“You’re different,” I whispered. “You don't belong with these shitheads.”

It was quiet for a moment longer, Felix and I sharing words in the silence until Changbin spoke up, sending my heart plummeting through the tile.

“She and Minho left not too long ago.”

I won.

I don’t care what any lowlife has to say about me. Not anymore.

Because I won.

Jade sat across the kitchen table from me, red hot with rage, and I won.

It’d been two hours since I drove Felix home, leaving him with a kiss on the forehead, making sure he made it into his front door before driving away. Surprisingly calm, despite the anger sitting in my gut, I was more entertained than anything. It happened, I caught her. She and Minho spilled out of the backseat of his car, unaware that anyone would be there to catch them. Thinking they could trust the friends who sat around the wooden tables of Haven, not knowing one had been keeping tabs for my sake.

My friend. The one I’d always known was my friend. A friend I’d have to make apologize to Felix, getting them past the co-workers boundary.

I had been right the entire time. The delusions that haunted me in the middle of the night, the thoughts that would creep into my subconscious at the worst times, they were all right. Every single one. I wasn’t crazy. I wasn’t the only bad guy.

And I’d get her to say it.

“You were my girlfriend when I fucked Jennie,” I shrugged. Her eyes went wild.

“That hurt,” she spat. “Fuck you.”

“Fuck you!” I shot back, half in disbelief she’d throw the words around. She’s heard this before. It wasn’t the first time.

Dragging her hands through her hair to over her eyes, she rubbed the sleep away and sighed, placing her hands on her knees. Avoiding my eyes, she stared down at the table.

“I think… I think I should go,” she said, flickering her eyes up to catch my gaze. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” I whispered.

“Like… like you’re sad,” she said, shaking her head. The front was working. “You don’t hold an ounce of empathy for me when you go frolicking down the streets to pick up the next conventionally attractive person, and take them somewhere to hook up.”

Maintaining face, I kept my lips ironed shut, and my argument from weeks prior resurfaced. She’s had so many opportunities to leave, opportunities to break things off with me. I had been open, honest, everything she could possibly need. I showed her who I was, or, what I had been. Unhappy. She chose, she made her choices, and I’m the villain.

“Some of them, we’re friends with, Hyunjin. So, yes. This relationship was over two weeks ago when you drove me to crazy town, to the point of no return.” My eyes were laser focused on hers. “You know, in a way, it’s like you pushed me right into his arms.”

“Oh, that’s rich,” I said, and she huffed a laugh. “Could I say the same about Felix? That you pushed me right into his arms?” Jade sat back and folded her arms over her chest. “You know I can’t, because I fought, and tried to make this work.”

“Did you?” Her snicker burrowed its way beneath my skin. “Sleeping with everything that walks by you is trying to make this work?”

My tone packed a punch. “You’ve been emotionally fucking with Minho this entire time, don’t even try to deny that! Though I know you will. You love him, and you’ll tell me that you don’t. Go ahead,” leaning forward, I plastered a fake smile to my lips, “Tell me you don’t love him. I wanna hear you say it again.”

She’s quiet, her mind working overtime at this ungodly hour of the morning. “Tell me you don’t love Felix.”

“I’ve spoken my truth about him, I always have, and I always will. I don’t know if I love him, it’s so new, but I can tell you I like him, a lot.” Pressing my lips together, I shook my head. “You deflecting the question tells me everything I need to know. You love him.”

“I do,” she whispered, and the words had me washed with fury, yet incredible release. The look in her eyes, full of a sorrow I couldn’t place. “I love him,” she whispered, taking in the shock that filled the cracks of my hardened expression. “But, I still love you.”

She left moments after the confession. Leaving me at the kitchen table, a nail shoved between my teeth, she gathered a bag, filling it with some of her clothes from our… my bedroom. The words had been spoken. Whatever was going on between us was over, and we both agreed that it had happened two weeks ago.

I asked her if she needed a ride to wherever she needed to go, and she gave me a sheepish look, telling me that Minho was downstairs waiting for her. She didn’t stick around long enough to see the amusement light up in my eyes, she was out the door seconds after telling me. Though once the door was shut I collapsed onto the kitchen table, clasping my arms around my head with a scream that should have the neighbors knocking.

It was real. All of it. The cheating, on both ends, the shared feelings, the mutual pining for others, the emotional distress, the love we had for one another, it was all real. The hell was finally over, the misery, the weight that clung to me and kept me in such a horrible place, it was done. Out of my life. I could move on.

I was free, and it hurt.

It hurt so goddamn bad.

Pushing my chair out from under me with a force, it collided with the wall behind it. Feeling shaky on my legs, I took myself into the kitchen, the lightheadedness hitting me harder than I thought it would.

Gripping the kitchen counter leaning forward onto it, I pressed my forehead to my arms sucking in shallow breaths. The cabinet that stared back at me was tempting. It called for me, it wanted me to open it. Everything inside of it could fix what I was feeling, it has before. Snatching one of the handles, my head lobbing onto the counter, I white knuckled the brass and longed to throw it open. Any one of the glass bottles on the shelves inside called my name, a sweet, sweet siren song.

But, all at once, another overpowered it. A deeper, happier, beautiful song that mimicked a laugh, bringing me to my senses.

Letting the handle go, I stumbled backward, pressing a hand to my brow and the hair that laid there, moist from my sweat. Coming to, like I’d been in a trance, an anxiety induced trance, I snatched my car keys from the counter, bounded out of my door, locking it behind me, and I got into my car and drove.

Following a familiar path I drove until I pulled into a driveway beside a grey Nissan, one I’d fix up one day, whether he’d let me or not. Slamming my door shut, I hurried up the walkway and rounded the house to the backdoor, where I was no more than three hours ago. Lifting the mat beneath the door I took the key and managed to get myself inside, popping right into the kitchen where he stood in a different t-shirt and boxer shorts.

With a glass of water in his hand he spun around in surprise as I wiggled the old door open, and he half smiled after it shut behind me.

“Hi,” he said, setting his glass down on the tan counters. Taking in my state, he took a step closer, but I stopped him by moving closer on my own. “Think I almost blacked out,” he laughed that laugh, and I almost fell to my knees. “You got me here?”

Nodding, I whispered, “Yeah,” still tiptoeing closer to him.

“Thanks,” Felix smiled. “I just tried calling you, I-”

Catching up to him, he didn’t have the time to finish speaking his peace. Wrapping my arms around him, I closed the space and kissed him with the ferocity he was begging for on the dance floor. Lasting about a minute, Felix melting into my hold, I pulled myself away and pressed my forehead to his.

“You drank something, you had water,” I half asked, looking into his eyes for confirmation. His stunned nod was answer enough, but he kept going.

“I did, a lot,” he whispered, focused on my lips. “I ate, too. Did you? Do you want something, I’ve got-”

Grabbing him by the waist, lifting him onto the counter, the whine that escaped him ripped my being in two. His arms slung around my shoulders, keeping my forehead over top of his while my hands tugged at the elastic band of his shorts.

“That’s not what I want,” I pushed from my lips in a whisper, nipping at his bottom lip before dropping to my knees.

Sunlight leaked through the shades, early morning sunlight, meaning I hadn’t been asleep for very long. Stretching my legs out over the mattress, blinking my eyes open to the pastel yellow walls home to photographs of people I didn’t know, my heart sprung out of my chest for all of two seconds until a pair of plush lips pressed a kiss to my collarbone. Turning my chin, ruffled blonde waves tickled my chin.

Felix, on top of the sheets with nothing but shorts on, smiled up at me, only his lips turning up, hiding a plethora of secrets behind them.

“Hi,” I attempted to say, my morning voice rough. Felix bit his bottom lip and tilted his head.

“Hi,” he whispered. “How do you feel?”

Sitting up to my elbows, I squinted in the light. “Shouldn’t I, uh… Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?”

Felix smiled again, this one larger than the last, full of amusement. “I’m fantastic, but I’ve done this before, and it doesn’t matter who does who, it’s still proper to check in, Hyunjin.”

Flopping back on the sheets I covered my face with my hands and sighed, the end coming out with a laugh. Flustered beyond belief, I reached out a hand to cup his cheek, giving him a smile. “I felt like…”

Felix bobbed his head, melting into my touch. “Tell me, tell me everything.”

The light in his eyes was spectacular. He cared. This was… normal, talking about this. It wasn’t just a moment that’d never be spoken of again like all of my experiences had been, it meant something, it was supposed to mean something.

“I felt… like a virgin,” I said, and he laughed softly when I did.

“So did I,” he admitted, moving his chin to press a kiss to my wrist.

Shooting him a look, I narrowed my eyes and he laughed again.

“I’ve only been with four people,” he said. “One of them was female, I had to try it.” More laughter. He reached for my other hand and laced his fingers within mine. “You make five. The other guys I’ve been with have… They were more experienced than I was, so I followed their lead. I dated one of them for a while, but it doesn’t matter.”

“Was he older?” I asked, shocking myself with how the words just seemed to slip out.

Felix pursed his lips and nodded.

“How much older?”

His smirk was devious. “You’re a curious fucker this morning aren’t you?” Scooting closer to me, he buried me with kisses and giggles for a few seconds before he pulled away and sighed. “Much older.”

“Do I know him?” I asked just to mess with him, grinning wide as a disgruntled shout fell from his smiling lips.

“You most certainly do not!” Felix’s eyes shot open wide. “If you did I think he’d eat you alive, so let’s be grateful he lives many, many hours away. All the way past Delo.”

With a breath, I drug my fingers through his hair and accepted his answer as final. I’d be able to get it out of him with time, if he was going to give me any more of his time after this.

“Sorry I showed up unannounced.” The air grew quiet, the only sound heard was that of the birds outside his windows. “I didn’t know what else to do. Didn’t know where else to go.”

Dropping his head to my bare chest, where I now realize I’m completely naked beneath his sheets, he smiled up at me. “Don’t apologize. I’m happy you came.”

“Me too.” Winking at him, Felix swatted at me and sat up with a horrible laugh. Following him, I sat up as well, bunching the sheets up in my lap. Trying to not turn red as he ogled my bare chest, I caught him off guard with, “You have to teach me.”

Wide eyes shot up at me. “W-what? Teach you what?”

“Blow jobs,” I said, completely serious. The boisterous laugh that came out of him wasn’t condescending in the slightest, and in fact made me happy to hear I could amuse him with my ignorance. “I mean it, teach me. I think I… I just tried to do what I think I like to feel, yanno?” Scooting closer to him, our knees bumped. “But, what if you didn’t like that? What if I did something that was weird to you, or didn’t feel good, or it-”

He cut me off, grabbing each side of my face with his hands. “Hyunjin,” he spoke softly. “Trust me, you knew what you were doing.”

Cheeks squished in his grip, voice muffled, I asked, “You’re sure?”

“Positive,” Felix shut his eyes in approval.

I guess the way his head was thrown back against the cabinets was a good thing. He did have one hand gripping my hair, and the other on the countertop clawing at nothing…

When he opened his eyes I whispered, “I like the way you taste.”

“Fuck,” he breathed, giving me the swiftest kiss before pulling away, sitting backward on his bed, putting space between us. Following suit, I twisted where I was sitting so I could face him, eyes on alert, like I’d done something wrong.

“What’d I say?”

“Nothing,” he said immediately, giving me a reassuring smile. “I’m loving everything you’re saying, and I’m finding you so incredibly adorable right now that it pains me to even have to say this.” My stomach flopped and my heart sunk. If he had pulled one over on me and was about to send me home, cutting this off, I swear to… “I want to talk to Jade.”

The name sent a jolt through my nervous system. “Oh, w-why?”

He took a deep breath. “I used to consider her a friend. I’d like her to also hear it from me that nothing between us happened while you were together, nothing more than that kiss. I feel like I owe it to her. It won’t have anything to do with you, I don’t want to do it to… unpack you guys. It’s between her and I, what happened with me and Jade. I owe her a conversation. If she’ll let me.”

My gaze traveled around his room as he spoke, his voice of reason always right, always correct, even if it pained me a bit.

“I’m not saying this because of last night. Can you look at me?” Listening, I met his eyes full of care, full of trust. “I wanted last night to happen the day I met you, Hyunjin. I promise you. I care about you, I like you, I have some… intense feelings about all of this, but this is new. For both of us, but especially you. Do you agree?”

Heart fluttering at the thought that Felix had been crushing on me longer than he’d originally let on, I nibbled my bottom lip and bobbed my head. “Yeah,” I sighed. “I care about you and like you, too.”

He smiled. “So then… If you trust me? Can we start over? Not in the sense of forgetting all that’s happened, because believe me, I will never forget last night, but… If we both want this to work out we can’t jump in headfirst right now.”

Trust, communication, the start of a, hopefully, healthy relationship. I could get on board with that.

“You’ll be worth the wait,” I whispered.

Felix’s smile grew until it erupted over his entire face. Burying himself in his hands he giggled, and whined. “Don’t say stuff like that, you make me want to say fuck it all!”

A breath caught in my throat between a laugh. “Don’t say stuff like that! I’ll really make you say fuck it all!”

The glare he shot me crippled us both, rolling on the sheets until we met in the middle, his head resting back on my chest where it started. Unable to help myself, I delved a finger into his blonde waves and breathed him in, though he seemed to do the same to me.

“Friends,” Felix said quietly, eyes fluttering as I scratched his scalp gently.

Giving him a lazy smile, I whispered, “Friends don’t do this.”

“No sex,” he restated, a smile trying to appear on his lips, but I relaxed him further. “No kissing, unless… Unless it’s proper…”

Enamored by the way he seemed to drift off, I breathed through a laugh. “You want me to court you, I get it.”

His smile finally appeared, his eyes closed. “Maybe I do, Hyunjin.”

“No sex, no kisses, only on the back of the hand when I drop you at your doorstep in the evening,” he chuckled, “But, this is okay?”

He hummed his approval.

“You’re gonna be a handful, aren’t you, Lixie?”

He hummed again, his grin growing back to where it was. Then, his eyes popped open, halting my ministrations.

“We need to get tested,” he said. My brows scrunched above my eyes. “Don’t let me forget. We can go together. I’m coming up on one year anyway, I always go near the end of summer. Was a school thing for me.”

Dumbfounded, I squinted my eyes. “Tested… for what?”

Felix blinked, then pursed his lips.

“You gave me a condom…” I said, voice trailing at the slight disappointment mixed with adoration in his eyes.

Taking a hand to my cheek, he pinched the skin and smiled. “So much to learn.”

Smiling back at him, I attempted to nip his fingers, then whispered, “Teach me.”

haven masterlist ✧ talk to me ✧ thank you for reading <3

you do not have permission to copy or translate my works without my consent.

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sun-havenn · 1 year ago

Text

Summer headcanons (but you’re dating)

it’s been very hot here so the inspiration for this is obvious. i still have to add kai and wesley, but i’m not far enough into my friendship with them to confidently write this for them yet. will come soon!

Claude

Summer’s too hot for him, he is not a fan. The heat smothers his creativity, he says.

Claude can’t handle heat very well. He gets unwell easy and sweats a lot. Still, he likes to keep to a routine and doesn’t change his afternoon errand run to fit the warm weather. He often ends up dehydrated or almost fainting when the day is especially hot.

The result is that you have to look after him a bit more than usual. You like o deliver fresh crops and meals, just so you know he has something to eat in case he can’t finish his errands because of the heat. It is a labor you do out of love.

(And it’s a labor he loves you even more for.)

While he’s constantly hot and has little to do, you won’t find Claude at the beach often. He doesn’t like the sand and he doesn’t like swimming. If you do, it will take some convincing to get him to join you. You’ll have a great time if he does, though. He’ll walk along the shore with you, and keep the shells you give him forever.

Darius

Seasons in Withergate aren’t as obvious as in Sun Haven. Besides, the darkness prevents most heat from settling. Summer is not really a big change for Darius.

It is for you, though. Coming and going from Sun Haven and Nel’Vari the difference in temperature is quite a shock. The cool air is usually more than welcome, and Darius is more than happy to see you come more often.

Withergate doesn’t have any special summer activities, snacks, or even a nice beach . Since Darius comes to Sun Haven’s celebrations, he wants to make something special about Withergate, too. So, Sporadically, he lets people organize small themed parties. Not obvious summer parties, but there will be bright decorations.

He’s spent a lot of his time trying to keep you out, trying to make you feel like an outsider. Now, he’s accommodating his city to your seasons to make you feel more at home.

Donovan

Would absolutely love to spend a day at the beach. Since he talks about the beach any day it’s warm, you decide to invite him to your farm, where you have your own strip of land.

He’s very excited. He missed the warmth, and just look at that clear water! Try getting anything done with an excited Donovan running around your farm, probably dripping wet.

You love seeing him happy, and you love making him happy. If he’s comfortable, you’d invite him over more and more. He’d go into Sun Haven, too. Explore the city and it’s people. Donovan in the summer is another kind of happy.

Just be prepared for the smell of wet dog to linger!

Jun

Is maybe the most easy person to ever exist, he has no complaints at all. In fact, he has nothing but good things to say about any season.

Likes that it’s warm, even if the kids sometimes get cranky because of the heat. He knows just how to bribe them: a cookie each and a cold, fresh piece of fruit.

Jun is a big fan of doing fun things in the summer. He lies to use every minute he has, and spends his evenings or mornings painting or journaling. He also likes to sit near his pond during sunset, preferably with you by his side.

Likes to spend nights at your farm. He claims the farmhouse of much cooler than his home. If he stays the night, he’ll get up with you at six in the morning and go for a swim while you take care of your farm (but only if you insist you don’t need his help).

Just try focusing on your work when he walks back from the sea, hair dripping and skin cool and wet and shiny. He likes it when you stare, though. He still loves seeing you blush.

Liam

Still has to work super hard. You don’t know how he doesn’t end up having a heatstroke every other day. All he does is be inside his hot bakery or be under the scorching sun.

Is too busy for a full day of relaxation, but will regularly make time to spend a couple of hours on the beach with his sisters. Since the girls like you so much, you’re often invited.

Just don’t think it will be romantic, you’ll spend hours building sandcastles or plotting with the girls to splatter Liam with seawater.

As his partner, you have to remind him to drink enough. He simply forgets.

Liam is very busy, but one evening a week is dedicated to you, as long as you don’t want to travel too far from his home every week. It’s a sweet sentiment, and those days you’re usually treated to some kind of summer-fruit pastry made just for you.

Nathaniel

His armor is so warm. He doesn’t like to complain, but on an especially hot day, something might slip. Only to you, though.

He’s always grateful when he can get out of his armor. As much as you love him, he will need a shower before you can get all close and comfortable.

Nathaniel’s favorite spot to guard during summer is the docks. The sea breeze is always cool, and he likes looking over the sea. It’s even better if you join him for some afternoon fishing, but if not, Peter, Rupert, or Kai are near to have a chat with him.

Most evenings are spent with his men and women. They usually hoist the tables outside when the sun begins to set. Located near the forest, the barracks are usually not too hot.

He also likes calm evenings with you a lot. Some days he just needs a break from all the noise. Those days, he likes going down the beach again, or being on your farm.

When you bring him down to your farm, he’ll always try to help you with something. Have you been crafting? He can help you finish! Forgot to water some plants? You already did so many, he’ll take care of them for tonight! He claims he finds helping you relaxing, so you allow him to help in small ways.

Vaan

It’s cooler in Nel’Vari, because the trees offer shade from the hot sun. It’s still warm, something that can mostly be felt through the warm breeze.

It’s a different wind from other seasons, something he feels more than others. He likes to experiment with his magic and the summer breeze a lot. Little people complain about the extra wind.

Vaan likes lounging around even more during summer. He spends a lot of time with Nel’Vari’s people, talking and laughing while taking little serious. He still likes being alone, and lounges near your farm when he doesn’t want to be around others. He always hopes you walk past.

He really loves your farm. During the summer, he doesn’t visit Sun Haven as much. Instead, he’ll come to your Nel’Vari farm. He prefers it if you’re there, of course, but is also content to be alone among your hard work.

If he invites you to do something, it’s most likely very laid back. Just being in his house or your farm sounds perfect to him. He’s convinced you work too hard and need to relax more, anytime he can convince you to stop working for an hour or two is a win for him.

Wornhardt

He doesn’t like summer very much. It’s too hot, he still has a lot of work to do, and his doctors coat is simply too warm.

He’d like to just take the whole summer off, but he can’t, and since he does like being a doctor, he fights through it.

Since Sun Haven is so warm, he has to treat a lot of heat strokes, and it can get frustrating, seeing the same person come in with the same issues weeks in a row.

Of course he’s talking about you. As Wornhardt puts it, you should relax more and stop running around when it’s boiling hot. Being a farmer and all, you can’t just drop all your work. As doctor, he’s taken to surveilling you from one to three in the afternoon, forcing you out of the sun. As your boyfriend, he just wants to spend a few hours a day with you.

You’ll still work a little, even with him near you. You might teach him how to fish from the shade of a tree (he’s very proud when he catches the tiniest fish on his first try) or take him for a walk in the forest to gather some fruit (since he’s surveilling you, he can carry them).

It’s a bit annoying at first, but you like spending time with him and it’s undeniable that you feel better out of the hot sun.

#sun haven #sun haven imagine #sun haven claude #sun haven darius #sun haven donovan #sun haven jun #sun haven liam #sun haven nathaniel #sun haven vaan #sun haven wornhardt

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beautouslysandy · 1 year ago

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dallas and you hanging out downstairs at bucks, theres a party and dallas could give a rats ass about it.

“try and socialize, babe, it’s good for you.” you say, as you walk to dallas, you were just talking with friends. soon to find him sitting in a barstool all by himself.

his arm is resting on your waist, he is sitting on a barstool.

“socializing is for the weak.”

“i socialize.”

“beside you.”

“oh okay.”

“i wast calling you weak, doll. just that guy.” he says pointing to some random guy flirting with a couple of girls

“that’s quite pointed, why him’?”

“he just looked annoying.” he says shrugging and then he turns you around, gives you one of his drenched in passion kisses that knock you off your feet every damn time.

“okay then.”

“i just wanna socialize with, in every way.”

“is that supposed to be seductive?” you say laughing

“yeah, it didn’t work?” “good glory, no.” “oh. noted.” he says before crashing his lips into yours, it’s likes a million different sparklers went off. he was kissing you like it was the very last one. it never got old, ever.

(last one haha)

#the outsiders x reader #the outsiders #the outsiders imagine #dallas winston #dallas winston x reader #dally winston #dally winston imagine #dallas outsiders #dallas winston fluff #the outsiders dallas #safe haven thoughts #safe haven

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pedrospatch · 2 years ago

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a safe haven | three

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist

summary: You and Joel get to know each other better and the two of you share a private moment out behind the barn under the stars; an unexpected guest shows up to the party; Tommy gives Joel a second and final warning about you.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) MENTIONS AND IMPLICATIONS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE/ABUSE. PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. alcohol consumption, mutual pining and yearning, Joel sings to reader a bit (that is its own warning), soft Joel, overprotective Joel, and a slight hint of jealous Joel. Tommy seems like kind of an asshole but he’s just trying to look out for his brother, okay?

word count 6.6k

About an hour later, after tossing back about three or four bottles of Seth’s crappy beer, you’d started feeling a lot livelier and a lot more like yourself. It was a glass of his delicious, oak-barrel aged whiskey that you had wanted more than anything, but with Esther over at the bar openly flirting up a storm with Joel Miller, you pushed down the desire for scotch and settled for the bitter lager instead.

It tasted awful, but it did the job well enough. The best part was that the bottles of beer were all readily available in coolers all around the barn, and you didn’t need to go up to the bar to get one.

The last thing you’d wanted was to find out what was going on between Esther and Joel.

“And the next thing you know, poor John is being chased all around the chicken coop by a bunch of broody hens!” Martha finishes her story, throwing her hands up in the air. “God, I wish I would’ve had a camcorder in hand. It was the funniest thing I ever did see in almost two damn decades.”

Everyone sitting around the table bursts into a fit of loud, hearty laughter.

“Oh okay, so then that would probably explain why there weren’t many eggs in stock at the market the other morning,” you tease, only fueling the commotion.

John glares at you, and you shrug innocently, fighting back another laugh. Six foot two with big, broad shoulders and arms, you found it both very difficult and very amusing to picture the bulky blond man being chased around by a flock of pissed off chickens.

“I’d really like to see any of you guys try and take a broody hen’s eggs away from her with ease!” John huffs out before taking a gulp of his beer. He’s red in the face, and it’s hard to tell if it’s from the alcohol or the embarrassment. “Assholes.”

Martha leans over, whispering, “See? I told you it would make him mad.”

You giggle, lightly shaking your head at her. “Talk about ruffling some feathers, huh?”

She snorts into her plate of potatoes, jabbing her elbow into your side. “Let’s stop before he really gets all riled up, or else we’re going to get an earful.”

“Oh come on, John. Lighten up,” you grin over at him from across the table. “I know what’ll make you feel better. You guys want to hear a really, and I mean really embarrassing story?” You pause for a second or two, just long enough for everyone to nod eagerly. “Let me tell you about what Stella did to me the other day in her stall when I tried to take her temperature, it was absolutely awful. Okay, so there I am about to—”

“Sorry to interrupt you folks, but do you all mind if we steal this sweet little lady here for just a minute or two?” The sound of Tommy Miller’s smooth, deep voice causes you to stop abruptly mid-sentence. You glance over your shoulder only to see him approaching the table. He’s closely followed by Maria, who had traded her usual patrol duty attire for a light blue denim dress that sat off of her shoulders, the flowing skirt falling just above knees. Her white cowboy hat matches her husband’s.

“Aw c’mon, Miller! She was just about to tell us a story!” Peter, Martha’s husband, exclaims as he drapes his arm around his wife’s shoulders

Tommy chuckles, shaking his head. “I promise we won’t keep her too long, alright?”

You immediately notice that he’s holding a drink in each hand, each glass filled almost to the rim with a bold, rich amber liquor over ice. The only reason that you’d immediately known one of the two drinks was meant for you was because Maria had just discovered that she was pregnant. It was still a secret that very few people knew about, but the minute she confirmed it with a pregnancy test earlier that month, she’d come running to your door to tell you. It’s the reason she’s been avoiding booze all evening—she’s been sipping on lemonade all night instead.

“Excuse me,” you nod politely to the group of friends you’d been sitting with and stand up from the table. You follow Tommy and Maria over to a far corner of the barn where the three of you could talk somewhat privately. Accepting the glass from Tommy, you offer him a grateful smile, pleased that you’d gotten the drink you had wanted after all. “Thank you.”

“‘Course.” He nods and tips the brim of his cowboy hat to you in his typical, gentleman-like manner. He’d never lost an ounce of those Texas manners.

Maria loops her arm through his. “Well, it looks like tonight was a real success,” she states as she glances around the room, her pride written clearly across her face. “Wouldn’t you say so?”

“Absolutely,” you agree, enthusiastically. You smile again and lift your glass to the couple as you toast, “Another year and another success. Here’s to many, many more to come.”

“Cheers to that, little lady,” Tommy grins and lifts up his glass, clinking the rim of it to yours before taking a generous drink, nearly draining it in one single gulp. “Thanks for stoppin’ by earlier and helpin’ set the place up, by the way. We really appreciate it.”

You wave your free hand at him. “Oh, no need to thank me at all. You already know that I was more than happy to help out,” you tell him as you take a careful sip of whiskey. The hard liquor burns its way down your throat in the sweetest way. Taking another sip, you turn to look at Maria, unable to help yourself from admiring her gorgeous, natural glow. “How are you feeling?”

“Not too bad,” Maria replies with a smile, placing her free hand over her flat stomach. At only a few weeks along, she still had quite a long way to go before she began to show. “Just a little bit of morning sickness here and there, but so far, so good.” She pauses and leans her body into Tommy’s side. “I never thought I’d be having a baby in my forties,” she muses with a laugh. “I thought that train had left the station a long time ago. But I guess life had something else planned for me.”

“For us,” Tommy corrects, playfully nudging her.

“For us,” Maria echoes, giving him a loving kiss on his cheek. “Luke calls it a geriatric pregnancy. He told me I’m automatically considered high risk, due to my age and all. But we’re hoping it’ll go smoothly.”

You detect the genuine concern behind her optimistic smile and reach out, gently touching her arm. “I’m sure it will all turn out fine. You just have to make sure that you’re taking good care of yourself and getting plenty of rest.” You point a finger at her, wagging it back and forth. “So, that means no more patrol duties for you, Mrs. Miller.”

“Oh I know,” she laughs again. “I’m on light work duties starting next week and in a few months, it’ll be strict bed rest for me. At least, that’s what Luke recommended, but I’m hoping to stay on my feet for a little bit longer than that.” She tilts her head curiously to the side as she looks at you. “Speaking of Luke, is he around? We haven’t seen him at all tonight.”

Throat bobbing, you grip your glass tightly in your hand. The corners of your mouth threaten to turn downward, but you manage to hold your smile well enough.

At this point, you had pretty much lost track of the number times you’d been asked about Luke.

Where is he? Why isn’t he here with you? Do you think there’s a chance he’ll show up tonight? Can’t you go home and convince him to join us?

You just about loathed the way he was considered to be a hero in Jackson. The way that every single person in the community adored the man to pieces made you sick to your stomach—Luke was anything but a hero, but nobody knew that. Not a single soul knew the real him, the monster that emerged behind closed doors, the terrible things he did when no one was around.

There had been an occasion or two where you had considered going to Tommy and Maria about it, to tell them all about the horrors that went on within the walls of your home. But even when they’d point out a bruise on your arm or a scrape on your cheek, you would lose the courage and chalk it up to a clumsy accident or injuries sustained while on the job—hell, just a few months ago, you’d blamed an injured shoulder on Ranger, telling Tommy that his beloved stallion had accidentally kicked you during one of your routine examinations. You wanted nothing more than to tell him that it hadn’t been his horse who put you in a sling for three weeks, it had been Luke. But how the hell could you do that?

Luke is the commune’s physician. The commune’s only physician.

Besides the two older nurses who worked in the clinic along with him, he was the only medically trained professional who knew how to treat severe injuries, perform minor surgeries, and diagnose illnesses—as much as you hated to admit it, Jackson needed him. If you told Tommy and Maria about everything that he’d done to you over the last two years, then you’d risk getting Luke locked up in the town jail, or possibly even thrown out and exiled from the settlement. What would that mean for the people in the community who fell ill or became injured and needed a doctor?

Maybe he wasn’t a hero to you, but to everybody else, he was. People could die without him and his medical knowledge. Hell, Maria would need Luke now more than ever now that she was pregnant.

For as much as you wanted to tell them the truth about him, you just couldn’t find the guts to do it, not when the decision would impact every single person in Jackson.It would be too selfish.

So, you kept quiet and continued to let it happen because what else could you do?

Nothing.

There wasn’t a goddamn thing you could do about it.

Tommy says your name, snapping you back out of your thoughts. “Hey, you alright?” he asks you as he gingerly touches your shoulder. “You zoned out on us for a minute there.”

You blink. “Yeah sorry, I’m alright. Um, Luke decided to stay at home and get some rest,” you reply as you shift awkwardly from boot to boot, feeling a sudden heat flood your face. “He’s been working a lot of hours at the clinic and making house calls as well, so he’s just been really tired, you know?”

“Oh, well that’s too bad,” Maria frowns. “Tommy and I were hoping we could say this to the both of you together, but I suppose you’ll have to give him the message on our behalf when you get home to him later tonight.”

You shoot her a puzzled look. “What is it?”

“We know we don’t say this as often as we should, but you and Luke do so much for us. So much for Jackson,” Tommy says, sincere gratitude dripping from his tone. “We’re damn lucky to have the two of you here. Me and Maria, and everyone in this community, we’re all deeply indebted to both of you for all you do.”

You stare at him. “Everyone here works very hard, Tommy—”

“Now, I ain’t saying they don’t,” he interrupts you by holding up his hand. “But let’s be honest here. Luke, he takes good care of all of our people, you take good care of all of our horses—people and horses, that’s what keeps this place runnin’ like a well oiled machine and you know it just as well as we do. Without the both of you lookin’ after our two most important resources, I ain’t all too sure where the hell this place would be.”

Maria nods in agreement with her husband and squeezes his arm. “Oh, don’t be so modest,” she remarks upon seeing the bewildered expression on your face. “He’s right. And we need you to know how much we appreciate everything the two of you do for this community.”

Tommy grins, raising his glass in a toast. “To you and Luke.”

Stomach churning, you flash them your very best smile and lift your own glass, clinking it against his and then to Maria’s bottle of lemonade. “Well, I will certainly give him the kind message when I get home tonight. Thank you.” You take a quick sip of your drink, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. The room feels hot, like it had been lit on fire and you were standing too close to the flames. “It’s starting to feel a bit warm in here. I’m going to go outside for a minute to get some fresh air. Excuse me.”

Before either of them can utter another word, you spin around on your heel and hastily make your way across the barn towards the exit, being careful not to bump into the dancing couples on the dance floor along the way. Even as you hurried out, you’d caught sight of Ellie sitting with Dina at one of the tables, digging into her plate full of barbecue. Dina had leaned over and whispered something into Ellie’s ear and Ellie let out a loud, obnoxious cackle through a mouthful of food.

Despite the circumstances, you can’t help but smile—an actual, genuine smile this time around.

At least Ellie seemed to be having a good time.

That’s more than enough for you.

Joel glimpses over Esther’s shoulder.

His eyebrows pull together in a mixture of confusion and concern as he watches you practically run out of the barn alone with a drink clutched in your hand and a strange expression on your face—you appear to be upset over something.

The blonde in front of him had been going on and on about where she was from, although he hadn’t quite been listening to her the entire time she had been talking—or at all.

Had Esther said Vermont? Or maybe it had been Virginia?

Joel wasn’t all too sure, but he didn’t care enough to ask her to clarify. Besides, his thoughts were far too busy preoccupied with someone else. Someone he needed to make sure was alright.

“Listen Esther, s’been real nice talkin’ to you,” he states as he offers the woman the most polite smile he can possibly muster up for her. He tries to ignore the awkward way she’d pouted her lips at him, a sad, disappointed look flashing in her eyes. “But I’ve gotta go and take care of somethin’ for a minute. Will you excuse me?”

He doesn’t even give Esther the chance to respond. Setting his drink down on the counter, he gives her a quick nod goodbye and steps around her. He starts towards the barn’s exit, but before leaving, he tosses a quick glance in Ellie’s direction just to make sure she’s still doing okay without him. He had been keeping a close and watchful eye on her from the bar the entire time. After a while, it soon became apparent to Joel that Ellie had been doing just fine. She’s scarfing down another heaping helping of bison and potatoes, grinning from ear to ear as she talks with Dina, who seems to be enjoying her company despite her poor table manners.

Joel steps outside into the night and he takes a look around, searching for you among the small, scattered groups of people who stood mingling with one another. Gossiping women, drunk and rowdy patrolmen, children running around—he jumps slightly as a giggling little redheaded girl who can’t be older than five circles around his legs with a curly haired boy who is about the same age chasing after her. He lightly shoos them away from him and they take off running in another direction.

He scans his surroundings once more.

You’re nowhere to be found.

Humming, Joel glances down.

He notices a long trail of footprints left behind by what had to be a pair of cowboy boots, similar to the ones you’d been wearing. The strange way in which they veered off in a random direction away from the rest of the crowd tips him off almost a bit too easily—he knows they belong to you. Without giving it a second thought, he starts to follow your tracks and they lead him all the way around to the back of the barn.

That’s where Joel finds you, leaning against the wooden paddock fence. You’re back is to him, your head tilted upwards. Your gaze seems to be lost somewhere up in the velvet, purple night sky and you’re swaying along to the pretty country melody that, even outside, can still be heard coming from inside the barn.

Turn around, a sound voice in the back of his mind tries to reason with him. Go go back inside.

He ignores it, his legs moving forward, eager to close the distance between the two of you.

The sound of his heavy boots crunching on the rocks in the dirt as he draws closer to you causes you to jump. Whirling around, you gasp and your free hand flies to your chest.

“M’sorry,” Joel quickly apologizes, holding up both his hands to show you he’s not a threat. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Joel?” You’re surprised to see him. “What are you doing out here?”

The area out behind the barn is just as dark as it is secluded, however, the moon is full, big, and bright, its silvery glow illuminating each and every single one of your features in such a beautiful way that it makes his throat go dry, just like it had earlier that evening when he’d first seen you in that dress.

“Well ain’t that funny. I was actually just ‘bout to ask you the same exact question, darlin’.” He falls into step beside you, leaning back against the fence. “What are you doin’ out here all by your lonesome?”

“Oh, I just needed some fresh air, that’s all,” you reply with a small, light shrug of your shoulders. You turn back around, leaning your forearms on top of the wooden fence, both hands wrapped firmly around your glass of whiskey. You’re standing so close to Joel that your shoulder touches his, though neither of you make a move to put space in between your bodies. “What’s your excuse?”

“Needed a breather from Esther,” he confesses.

It was partially the truth.

He couldn’t tell you he’d really come outside to check on you.

“What do you mean? Didn’t you like her?”

“Don’t get me wrong, she’s nice and all,” Joel says, letting out a chuckle. He shakes his head. “She just ain’t the kind of company I’m lookin’ for tonight, y’know?” He pauses for just a brief second and crosses his arms over his chest, his sudden change in position causing his shoulder to press even closer against your own. “Tommy mentioned her to me when we were havin’ lunch together yesterday. Said he’d be willin’ to set us up, but I didn’t think his dumbass would actually follow through with it.”

Confused, you shoot him a strange look.

“I’d told him I wasn’t interested in meetin’ her, but Tommy’s always had a real habit of not listenin’ to me,” he remarks, shaking his head once again.

The question falls from your lips before you can even think about trying to stop it. “Why aren’t you interested in her?” you blurt. Awkwardly, you clear your throat and add in a nonchalant tone, “Esther’s gorgeous, Joel. Most guys around here would jump at the chance to be with her.”

“S’like I told you. She just ain’t the kind of company I’m lookin’ for tonight.”

“So then, what kind of company are you looking for?”

Joel hesitates, then answers honestly. “Yours.”

“Oh,” you breathe out, your heart skipping a nervous beat.

He tests the waters. “That alright to say?”

“Mhm,” is all you’re able to utter.

Fighting to take a steady, even breath, you clutch at your glass even harder.

“Y’know, when I was on my way out here, I saw Ellie and Dina still sittin’ together,” Joel finally says after a minute or two, breaking the silence. “She honestly seems to be havin’ a real good time with her.” He nudges your shoulder with his own, a hint of amusement in his voice as he turns to you and asks, “Now tell me why I’ve got this strange little feelin’ that you had somethin’ to do with that?”

Your immediate expression of guilt prompts his grin.

You’d been caught red handed.

“Okay, so I may or may not have talked to Dina earlier today while we were setting up the barn for the party. I asked if she could do me a favor and at least try and talk to Ellie tonight,” you admit, sheepishly. “I told her about how much Ellie reminds me of her, and how I thought they would get along.” You feel his dark eyes fix themselves intently on you and the heat creeps to your cheeks as you continue to explain yourself to him. It’s only just now occurred to you that perhaps you should have ran the idea by Joel—he’s her guardian and the last thing you want to do is cross his boundaries. “It took a little convincing, but she agreed. Dina can still be quite shy sometimes, but she’s a really good girl, Joel. I promise.”

Joel raises an eyebrow at you, letting his arms fall down to his sides. “Really? You did that?”

“Yeah. I did.” Anxiously, you take a long sip of liquor before adding, “I hope that’s okay.”

“‘Course it is, darlin’. I really appreciate you doin’ that for Ellie.” Joel’s gaze softens and meets yours with genuine sincerity. “I appreciate everythin’ that you’ve done for her. It means a lot to me. More than I can probably even explain.”

“I can tell how important she is to you.”

Joel nods. “Ellie’s the most important thing in the world to me.” He stops, exhaling a long, heavy sigh. “She’s been through a whole lot—a hell of a lot more than anyone her age should have to go through.” Once again, he pauses momentarily, trying to keep his emotions in check. He swallows harshly and subconsciously leans closer towards you without realizing it. “Ellie, she ain’t my blood, but she’s my daughter. For a long time, I thought I couldn’t take care of her. I thought that I didn’t have what it takes to protect her.”

“And what about now?”

“Now that we’re here, I feel real different ‘bout it all. I finally feel like I can keep Ellie safe, y’know? Give her the life she deserves,” Joel states, sounding a bit relieved, almost like he’s only just now made the realization that things are different now—it’s not like it was while they’d been out on the road. Each day isn’t a fight for survival, a game of trying to stay alive long enough just to see the next. Sleeping in the dirt, watching her go hungry, seeing her have to wear the same dirty clothes for weeks at a time, those were all now things of the past.

Pulling yourself back from the fence, you glance up at him with a curious expression.

“Ellie hasn’t told me all that much about what she’s gone through—about what either of you have gone through.” You catch sight of the worry that flashes in his eyes and reassure him, “And I don’t plan on asking because it isn’t any of my business. But in the short time I’ve gotten to know Ellie, I’ve already seen it in her eyes, Joel. It’s all there.”

“What’s there?”

“Every bad thing that’s ever happened to her.”

Joel hangs his head. “Jesus.”

And just like that, he somehow feels like a fucking failure all over again.

“I know that you’re worried about her, Joel. I don’t blame you, but you’re doing all that you can do,” you remind him, the kindness in your voice bringing him the warmth and comfort he’s been needing for far too long. “You’re here in the community now and she’s safe. That’s what matters—all the rest is going to fall right into place soon enough. Just give her a bit of time and don’t put so much pressure on yourself.”

Joel sighs. “I just want what’s best for her, y’know? Just like any normal parent would want for their kid.”

“And you are doing the best that you can, just like any normal parent would.” You reach out, gently placing your hand on his bare forearm, your thumb brushing his warm skin. Your mere touch sends a tingle up his spine, and he can’t help but wonder if the connection had done the same for you. “It’s easy to see how much you care about her. How much you love her.”

“I do love her,” he murmurs. It feels odd, almost foreign for him to say it out loud. Of course he loves Ellie, and although he’s fairly certain she knew that and she loved him too, those three specific words had never been exchanged between them, and he had a hunch they never would be. “All I want is to do right by her. After everythin’ she’s been through—I just want her to finally be happy.”

“That says a lot about the kind of man you are.”

Biting back a scoff, Joel shakes his head. He doesn’t want you thinking he’s a good person—you’d be horrified if you knew about all the blood that stained his hands, about all of the things he’d done in the last two decades to survive. He’d stolen, he’d destroyed, he’d murdered. He’d lied.

He was not a good man.

Your hand drops away from his arm, a lot sooner than either of you would have liked.

“So, what’s your story?” he asks, deciding to switch the focus of the conversation onto you. “How’d you end up in good ol’ Jackson, Wyoming?”

“You take another sip of your drink, which is now completely watered down by the melted ice in your glass. “Well, like I told you, I grew up in New Mexico on a horse ranch. It was me, my parents, and my little brother,” you start to explain. “After the outbreak happened, me and my family ended up in the Albuquerque QZ. We were there for quite some time, until there was a breach at one of the gates and the zone was overrun with infected.” You pause briefly as the memories of that night come flooding back. By now, you’ve repressed them enough that they don’t bring you to your knees the way they used to when you had been younger. “Me and my dad made it out alive, but my mom and my brother didn’t.”

Joel frowns. “Shit. M’real sorry, darlin’. I shouldn’t have asked—”

“It’s okay,” you assure him with a tiny nod. “After me and my dad made it out of the zone, we found this group of people who were heading east, trying to get to Boston. It wasn’t long before everyone started to get picked off one by one—by infected, raiders, and even slavers. Somehow, me and my dad survived all that, but we found ourselves alone again. We were starving, had no shelter, and winter was just around the corner. We honestly didn’t know what we were going to do, and even though neither of us ever said it to each other, we were both so sure we were going to die. But then Tommy and his patrol group came across us one night. Once we proved that neither of us were infected, he brought us in.”

“You’ve been through a lot,” Joel states. He never would have even guessed.

You just seemed so well put together.

“Haven’t we all?” You let out a humorless laugh.

A silence falls like a curtain over both of you, but it’s comfortable.

Tranquil.

Although it had been a warmer night, it was now much later into the evening, and a chilly breeze whips its way through the settlement, whisking its cool and crisp fingers through your hair. It causes the white daisy you’d been wearing to fall, and the flower flutters to the ground, landing right in between Joel’s boots. Without giving it a second thought, he reaches down and picks it up, being careful as he gingerly dusts the dirt off of the delicate petals. He turns to you, tucking the flower back behind your ear. As his hand falls away from you, his index finger accidentally grazes the soft skin of your cheek, and every part of him floods with the burning desire to feel more of you.

“M’sorry ‘bout that,” he mumbles sheepishly.

“It’s quite alright,” you say—and you mean it. You can’t even remember the last time someone’s touch set you on fire like this. You’d been feeling cold and empty and numb for so long, and while all of the things that Joel’s making you feel had become almost foreign to you, they’re starting to reignite that spark of life inside of you that you thought you’d lost a long time ago.

From the inside of the barn, you and Joel hear the band begin to play their cover of Can’t Help Falling in Love.

“Elvis, huh?” Joel muses with a hum. He sounds impressed.

You’re not sure if all the alcohol you’d been consuming throughout the evening has only now just decided to kick into full gear in your system or whether you really do just lack any kind of common sense, but you find yourself looking up at him shyly through your eyelashes. “How about another dance?”

His lips part slightly in surprise. “To this song?”

Every inch of your skin burns hot with embarrassment and your fingers curl tighter around your glass. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. It’s just that I really love to dance,” you sputter out nervously, wishing you had kept your mouth shut. You only dig yourself further into the hole as you continue to ramble. “Luke doesn’t like to dance. He never wants to dance with me—”

That’s all Joel had needed to hear.

He reaches for your glass, prying it out of your grasp. He sets it down on top of the fence and holds his hand out to you. “I’ll dance with you, darlin’.”

Looking up at him in surprise, you accept and place your hand in his. His other hand finds your waist and the two of you begin swaying along to the music—a smile that could light up the entire town breaks out across your face.

Joel didn’t know Luke, but he couldn’t fathom how the man you were married to wouldn’t do just about anything to see that smile.

“Wait, I thought you couldn’t dance,” you tease, noticing that he’s leading you.

Flashing you a cocky grin, he shrugs. “Guess the kid was right. I ain’t so bad for fifty six with creakin’ knees.”

Remembering Ellie’s words from earlier, you throw your head back and laugh.

His stomach turns, twisting in a tangle of desire and nerves.

You’re married.

But that does nothing to stop the want, the need.

For either of you.

Being in his arms, it’s wrong.

It’s more than an innocent dance—it’s the beginning of something that’s bound to lead to nothing but trouble and you both know it.

Joel continues to lead you and begins singing along to the familiar lyrics, quietly, but just loud enough for you to hear the sultry richness of his voice. “Like a river flows, surely to the sea,” he sings, subconsciously giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “Darlin’ so it goes, some things are meant to be.”

Impressed, you raise an eyebrow at him. “You’ve got a nice voice, Joel.”

“Y’think so?”

You nod. “I do. What, were you a singer in your first life or something?”

“Close.”

“Really? What did you do?”

“I was a contractor,” Joel replies, grinning as he elicits another sweet laugh from you. “Owned my own construction business with Tommy. I did enjoy singin’ though—and playin’ the guitar too. But it was a hobby more than anythin’ since I don’t think music would’ve paid the bills.”

You smile up at him. “Oh, well now you’re going to have to play the guitar for me sometime. Maybe even treat me to a whole song?”

“I still owe Ellie a song,” he remembers, shaking his head. “But I don’t have a guitar, so it gets me out of it.”

“Well then, we’re going to have to find you one and when we do, you’ll have to play something for us,” you tell him. “Deal?”

“Deal.” Joel agrees without thinking. He starts singing along to the lyrics again. “Take my hand, take my whole life too—”

“But I can’t help falling in love with you.” You try not to laugh again at the shock on his face as you finished the lyric for him.

“Hey now, you’ve got a real nice voice yourself, darlin’.”

Darlin’.

You shouldn’t let him call you that.

Out of respect for your husband, you should tell him it’s not okay. None of this is okay.

But it is okay.

“Oh, now you’re just trying to flatter me, Miller,” you accuse him, playfully.

The song ends and neither of you make a move to let go of one another.

Joel’s eyes fall to your pretty, plush lips and it takes every ounce of strength he has inside of him not to lean down and press his own lips against them.

Finally, he forces himself to let you go and takes a step backward, clearing his throat. “I should, uh—I should go and find Ellie so I can get her home. S’gettin’ kinda late.”

You nod, your heart slamming painfully against your sternum. “Of course,” you say, slightly breathless. “I’ll come along with you so I can say goodnight to her.”

As the two of you make your way around the barn and back towards the entrance, Joel sees a tall, slender man with short dark hair approaching. He’d called out your name and something inside Joel’s mind just clicks together—he knows exactly who the man is before you’ve even had a chance to open your mouth and say his name.

“Luke?” Stopping abruptly in your tracks, you stiffen and squeak out his name. “What—what are you doing here?”

“There you are, honey.” He comes up to you and immediately takes your arm, pulling you from Joel’s side and over to his. “Tommy told me you might be out here. I was just coming to look for you.”

It takes thirty seconds for Joel to size him up. Luke’s younger than himself, definitely closer in age to Tommy—somewhere around his mid to late forties. He’s a lot more clean cut than most of the other rugged men in the commune with his short, neatly kept dark hair and a clean shaven face. Though he’s on the thinner side, he’s in decent shape, but Joel’s wider, broader and far, far more intimidating.

“What are you doing here?” you ask again.

“Now, is that really how a loving wife should greet her husband?” Luke laughs, pulling you even closer into his side.

Joel isn’t all too fond of the way he’s holding you.

He’s rough, harsh.

“I decided to come and check it out. See what all the fuss is about,” Luke says. He glances at Joel, his green eyes giving him a once over—sizing him up, just like Joel had done to him. “Don’t be rude, honey. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your new friend here?”

You speak softly, almost too softly.

“Luke, this is Joel Miller.”

“Ah. You’re Tommy’s brother, right?”

Joel tries not to sound too curt, but fails. “That’s right.”

“Joel, this is Luke.” You can’t even look him in the eye as you introduce your spouse. “He’s my husband.”

Luke extends a courteous hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Joel.” His other hand finds and takes yours. “I do hope that my wife here hasn’t been bothering you tonight. She can be quite the little chatterbox. Makes me wish she came with a mute button sometimes.”

Joel’s dark eyes briefly flit to Luke’s hand holding yours, taking note of the way he’s gripping it so tightly that his knuckles had gone white. Between that and the comment he’d just made about you, Joel had every fucking desire to connect his fist to the side of Luke’s face.

“Luke, please,” you whisper, throwing him a tiny glare.

“Oh come on now, honey. Where did your sense of humor go? You know I’m only joking,” Luke states, squeezing your hand a little harder, causing you to squirm.

Something tells Joel he’s not kidding around.

He’d meant what he had said.

“She hasn’t been a bother at all,” Joel speaks in your defense. “Actually, I came out here to talk to her and to thank her for bein’ so kind to my kid, Ellie. Your wife here, she’s been nothin’ but good to her since we arrived.”

“Well, as long as she wasn’t being a bother.” Luke glances down at you. “If you’ll excuse us, there’s a few people that I still need to see and say hello to inside. Come along, honey.” He glances at Joel, a strange glint in his eye as he tells him, “Welcome to Jackson, Joel.”

His jaw clenches as he watches him drag you into the barn.

Nothing about Luke sat right with him.

The way he’d spoken to you, touched you, treated you.

And then there was you.

The light had instantly left your eyes the second he’d come around.

Something wasn’t right.

A rough hand on his shoulder startles him out of his thoughts.

“Really, Joel? Really? Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Tommy hisses, yanking him over to the side of the barn where nobody would overhear him. “What the fuck did I tell you yesterday in the mess hall?”

“The hell are you fuckin’ talkin’ ‘bout?”

His brother glares at him. “I know that you ain’t as fuckin’ dumb as you look, Joel. What the fuck were you doin’ out here alone with her? Huh?”

Joel purses his lips together tightly in silence.

What had he seen?

Having read his mind, Tommy shoves his shoulder. “You were dancin’ with her you fuckin’ asshole? Did you fuckin’ forget that she’s a married woman?”

Joel rolls his eyes at him and aggressively shoves his hand off of his shoulder. “We were just dancin’ together, alright? Ain’t like we were makin’ out, Tommy. Can you fuckin’ relax?”

“I don’t give a fuck, Joel! If I saw any man that wasn’t me dancin’ with Maria like that, I’d be fuckin’ pissed. I’d kick his fuckin’ ass,” he spits. “Her husband just showed up to the goddamn party. You’re fuckin’ lucky that it was me who saw you out there with her and not him. What if he’d seen you two? Then what?”

“Christ, Tommy. Relax,” Joel tries again to calm him. “It was just a dance, alright? It was nothin’ more than that. Okay?”

“You listen to me and you listen to me good, ‘cause I ain’t fuckin’ gonna say it again, big brother. Don’t go gettin’ any ideas ‘bout her. I don’t need you to go around stirrin’ up any kind of trouble,” Tommy says, his voice firm. “We can’t have that kinda shit here. Maria won’t tolerate it, and y’know what, I won’t either. Don’t fuckin’ cause problems. Got it?”

“Didn’t plan on it,” Joel mutters, bitterly.

Tommy narrows his eyes at him.

“Just fuckin’ watch yourself, Joel,” he warns. “I fuckin’ mean it.”

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