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yourplasticlittlespastic · 21 days

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E̴N̴T̴W̴I̴N̴E̴D̴ - Series - Part 2

Part 1

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x f/reader

Warnings: Fluff and Sexual tension at the end -> Raw +18 warnings will come later in other chapters

Notes: Thank you for reading and for all the nice hearts you have given to this series <3 Ready for Bridgerton S3?

WC: 4.5K

It took all your strength to be on your right side of mind for a week. You called it a simple infatuation but your mind kept calling it... calling it... in reality, you didn't know how to call it but mere fixation was not. Was it supposed to happen in such a way that by only sharing a few glances, you could feel desire? This type of feeling was meant to be grown like plants, is it not? With talks, with promenades and tea and biscuits.

But you had those already.

Your eyes popped as the thought grew and grew. Indeed you have shared all of those with him. Seven years ago you started talking. He was your age, 21 and you 14 when by magic you two mixed like butter and toast. Talks? More than enough. Walks? More than a normal courtship can have. Tea and biscuits? More than you should have eaten.

You had scratched your forehead as you stared at the figure of Lord Coxingworth making his way to his carriage. The third talk of the week and you have learnt all the right things. All the proper ones. Benedict would have never.

"Stop it" you whispered as you shook your head, comparison cannot bring anything good, both are different and oh yes quite different "Ugh" you chastised yourself because your mind was going in circles "It is temporary," you said "My courses," you said looking at your dress, underneath "It might be that"

You were the most sentimental when your courses were expected. Indeed that was it, it is a good friendship and shall not be confused with anything more.

“Miss Ashbourne” the sound of Sarah appeared with a knock “an urgent note for you, from Eloise Bridgerton”

When you opened the small squared note you saw her handwriting in the fashion of urgency as she said “Let us exchange some judgemental words about the world. We should talk”

A sudden fear came to you, she knows. How could she? Benedict told her. How could he? No, he couldn’t.

You make no haste to walk out with Sarah by your side as you make your way to the park. It was a lovely day, the sun was out and there was no wind at all. The park was crowded and yet Eloise was easy to find, you knew where she would be, she loved the bridge and the pond.

“There you are future Lady Coxingworth or Marquise Ashdown”

“You should have brought swimming attire, it could have been the most useful when I threw you to the pond”

She smiled, her cheeks had the most beautiful glow as she gave you a hug and then proceeded to sit on the bridge. You sat beside her and let the sun hit your face and for a moment the focus was on another Bridgerton.

However, the crisp of the day proved to be more equipped than you two and so you decided to escort Eloise to her house. The grandiose of it always made your eyes soft.

“Well come on for a small refreshment and then you part” she offered and you accepted

And while walking inside the pastel drawing room you spotted the nape of Benedict as he kept reading the journal of the day.

“A bit late to read news is it not?”

He turned around from the soft couch and smiled at you “not at all, for me is morning still”

“Yes brother we all know you didn’t sleep last night”

Your stomach made a turn, why he didn’t sleep? Was he perhaps talking to someone?

“I have a commission coming next week and the deadline is approaching so I stayed awake working on the details and then I forgot it was morning already when I started drawing and... well it is done and here I am reading the news of the day with a headache” he closed the journal and stared at you “Miss Ashbourne, how are you this fine morning?”

You snorted, your morning was hours ago “Good thank you, the most wonderful morning” you followed the game “I came from the pond with Eloise”

“I have painted that” he commented “You’ll find a very badly angled canvas by the entrance"

“it is not bad, Benedict” Eloise said

“My profes-“

“Forget about art school, I can’t believe that you follow their word. Today’s art is bland like fish for breakfast”

He chuckles as you see their banter “They do have excellent points to give”

“And I am far from interested in them”

“What about you, Miss Ashbourne?”

“Me?”

“Interested”

In what? On who? You asked for yourself

“Well-“

“That is a yes” he stood up “sister would you mind…?”

“We have been walking and standing most of the afternoon, brother. She might be tired”

“Let her speak then”

Both pairs of eyes landed on you, how could you avoid a private chat with Benedict? Your heart was not prepared.

He offered his arm and you took it. Both of you walked downstairs, the colours of the sunset settling outside the majestic house.

“My mother has ordered them to hang every single painting I have made. Quite adamant I had to be with her for her not to hang my five-year-old pieces”

You laugh softly as the image comes to mind. “I would not blame her. Eloise is right”

“Hmmm”

“I am sure that professor had good points but art has proven to be the most emotional is it not?”

“Your point?”

“That one cannot structure emotions. One cannot compare the same canvas with the other one as if they were similar. They are not, they hold different emotions and perspectives.”

You stopped as Benedict looked at one of his paintings hanging on the wall. The fruit bowl had the most detail you have ever seen.

“You speak like a true artist,” he said still fixated on front

“I might not be one for the brush and paint but I do know other things”

He quickly turned “Like what?”

You instantly blushed. You were not going to start reciting mathematics or philosophy. So you shrugged in silence which made him smile.

“What about that stolen poetry book?”

“Oh” he remembered “in my room”

“Yeah? Well I don’t mind for a new poem today”

You snorted “I shall go, it’s getting quite dark outside and my mo-“

“I believe you don’t remember that for me is morning now”

You dropped your shoulders at the still childish game “Is it?”

“Oh it is”

“So on this fine morning” you smiled “you want me to fetch my book and come back so I can read one more poem?”

“Yes, after you have followed your pius girl routine”

“Meaning?”

“Aren’t you going to bathe?” He smirked as you slapped him with your hand“And eat with your mama and then prepare for bed?”

“Yes… I should do that” you whispered

“Come here before you sleep and read to me. I am not a stranger after all”

His smile and the glint of mischievousness were the things that made you follow that routine in its perfection.

The bathing went fast as the soapy rose water left your skin glistening, the dinner made your stomach fill and by the end when your mother said good night and your lady left you alone, you took the green robe by the end of your bed and did the most silent walk ever.

You walked with your velvet slippers and swayed across the gardens careful of not being noticed and minutes later you knocked softly on the window you knew the art studio was in.

It made you giggle, the thought of using the back door like any other servant. Such a sneaky way, such adrenaline of doing something like this and unaccompanied. If Lady Whistledown could see you now, tomorrow you were sure there will be a paper with only your name on it.

“You are late,” he said

“I am not, I did my things fast” you argued getting inside where the kitchens are “You have lost your sense of time today”

You didn't bother to close the door because it would have made a sound. The kitchens were empty and the only light that could be seen was the candle by the countertop.

"So which one would you read to me?" He said behind you

You turned seeing his face slightly darkened “Patience, let me sit down at least”

“You make me wait like a child”

“Are you not that?” You coyly smiled while walking to his studio, you knew above you the Bridgertons were sleeping and that only increased the adventurer within you. And when you entered, the same smell filled your lungs, you moved the robe and sat down on the maroon couch. You watched intently as Benedict eagerly closed the door and tried to move all the cluttered brushes and boxes.

You felt your body tense as he walked past the sofa and picked a book. You didn’t want to ask what the book was and why the sudden interest. You watched as he turned around with the book open.

“And what is that?” You questioned

“My own journal, I want to see if the poem will spark any sort of inspiration… for a painting”

“Very well” You nodded ready to split the book in your hands and ready but his hand as soft as a pillowcase stopped yours

“Forgive me, do you need something to drink?” He asked and saw the thoughts in your eyes “Perhaps something stronger than milk?”

“Brandy you mean?”

He shrugged “If you want a sip I can give you from mine”

“I am not a child. I am a woman”

“I know”

“Then I want a glass, a quarter of what you normally drink”

“Your wishes are commands, my lady, let me get us something and you shall begin reading while I look for it, yes?"

"Yes"

The candle by his desk was enough for you to see how he stood up and went to the corner where the brandy and the cups were. You opened the book on a different page and you adjusted your eyesight.

“I got it”

“Tell me the name” he ordered still pouring some brandy into what you believe is his glass

“Beneath the Velvet Veil”

“Ooooh” he remarked “beneath… the velvet rail. Do you believe is about what lies beneath a woma-“

“Benedict” you said harshly “not everything has to be about women”

“I disagree but please” he returned with the glasses and offered one “One sip before you start”

The smell of alcohol made your nose wrinkle nevertheless, you drank from the glass and let the liquor slip through. The burn in your throat made your eyes watery and it made you cough a little, the sweetness of it however made you feel more awake.

“Good?”

“Quite” You took another sip out of bravery and tasted it better, your eyes, suddenly fixated on the poem started to scan the first line

"Beneath the Velvet Veil"

Beneath the velvet veil of night,

Where shadows whisper, hearts take flight,

A silent war of classes rages on,

As dreams of change are fiercely drawn.

In cobblestone streets where lanterns glow,

The cries of the oppressed begin to grow,

Against the tyranny of wealth and power,

They yearn for justice in the midnight hour.

With fervent hearts, they take a stand,

United voices across the land,

For a world where privilege has no reign,

And every soul may dare to dream again.

Oh, let the winds of change arise,

And lift the veil from blinded eyes,

For in the hearts of those who fight,

Lies the dawn of a new, just light.”

Benedict blinked twice and rapidly formed a smile on his face “This one here can spark a revolution”

“It takes more than one poem to do so"

"True," he said drinking again "but it takes a poem with such desire to stir some passion in people" he leaned back and grunted "Does it say which year was published or at least... bind together?"

You quickly scanned it "No, there's nothing else"

"It can't be more than a few years old I assume, so whatever the fight this poem was trying to build... it failed" he snorted "We are still the same"

"Unequal wages outside London" you rapidly added "Social reputation as a means to oppress..." you sighed

Benedict curved his lips at the so sudden but so true comments coming from your mouth "You say it with such experience"

"I am a woman in society, Benedict"

"And a lovely one"

You blushed at his words, not the compliment that was given, but the way his voice was, a soft low tone as if he was singing and that made you stare at his lips for a second until you distracted yourself with one final sip of the fruity brandy.

"Thank you, what I mean is that I do know things"

He moved fast on his spot trying to stare at you "Yes you have said so already... please tell me, what are these precious things you know?"

You laughed and shrugged "A lot, Sciences, languages, music, social sciences"

Benedict snored and smiled "You are boring me"

You opened your eyes and took your hand and tried to pinch his arm "I am an accomplished lady. I am also quite observant"

"Are you?" he questioned, "are you really?"

"What does that mean?"

"Do you have an inkling of a clue as to why I have not slept?"

"Because you were working?"

"Partially" he took his hand and ruffled his messy strands of hair "That damned painting, the commission is taking longer"

"Because you can't sleep," you said

"No, because..." he dropped his shoulders and drank the whole glass "Because my thoughts are somewhere else"

You blinked slowly at his words "Are you well? I know a good doctor that-"

"I am well"

"But then what is it that is making your thoughts wonder?"

He licked his lips as the brownish liquid slipped through "You"

You swallowed as your throat went dry and as much as the fire within you wanted you to act confident... you just tried to be absorbed into the cushion as if you were retracting yourself.

Benedict took the silence as his turn to keep talking so he moved closer and rested his chin on the back pillow "Be so kind as to tell me how is it that inspiration works?"

what kind of question was that? you asked yourself and you again shook your head in silence.

He opened his mouth "Because I was alright before returning to London. It has been two months since the season started and look at me" he snorted "I had a good smear of inspiration given by Aubrey Hall and its landscape. I come here and start talking to you again as we have done so for years but this time my inspiration fades away"

You frown, an honest confused frown "Bu-"

"Oh do not give me that face, Miss Ashbourne" he gulps "You are aware of what you have been doing, are you not?"

"If you say I am responsible for your inspiration fading away..." you blinked "I don't kn-"

"It faded, yes but only for it to move all over you" he whispered and looked into your eyes

You gasped, your breath suddenly short and your chest tight. The words inked deep now in your mind and heart.

"I am not joking, it is true" he scratched his chin "It is the most confusing thing ever because..." he snorted "I cannot stop thinking about your face or about you wholly and it is more confusing because I know I started seeing you in other colours since last season"

"But I was only-"

"Twenty years of age I know. A part of me tries to conceal that because I may be bold but not to that level yet I am honest and I had to tell you that"

You gulped.

"I often question my reason and told myself that we have not been together enough and that this.... in me" he touched his chest "Is just transitory"

You blinked at that, it is exactly what you have told yourself "I..." you said "I thought so too"

"Have you? And what conclusion did you arrive at?"

It was your time to talk so you clenched your legs and crossed your ankles trying to be straight as you said it "That..." you smiled "that there have been enough talks and enough walks and enough... secret readings for this to arise in us"

"Us?" he said "I was merely talking about me... do you mean you have felt it too?"

"Since last year" you whispered, your eyes fixated on him. His eyes widened.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because it is improper, not that I have ever cared about that, but... as you said I was twenty"

"Right"

"I didn't want to believe it" you confessed "So I have been ignoring it"

"Did it work? Because my trials have failed if I could tell you what I have done, what I have thought"

For a second, or more than that, between your legs, you felt a tingling that made you gulp "What?"

"What?"

"What have you thought?" the question came too suddenly but by the look of it you could not retract it at all

"Things about you that should not be thought"

"What kind of things?" you insisted, the fire within you made you feel alive "Tell me"

Benedict touched his face and looked at you, you saw a hint of fear in his eyes as he opened his mouth

"Tell me" you insisted "If we have already confessed, what are the odds of doing it again?"

"A lot, Miss Ashbourne"

"I don't mind"

"Well" he laughed nervously "I..." he rapidly moved on the couch, he leaned to you, quite closely to your figure retracted on the corner of the couch "You must wash my mouth with soap after telling you this"

"I can take it, I assure you"

"I..." his lips opened, a soft and pinky pair of lips, you wondered if they would taste the same way his brandy did "I have seen you naked"

You frowned "Naked?

"In my mind, I have formed you. I have used what I know to construct that image. I..." he looked down at your white sleeping gown "I have seen your arms, the crease of your elbow and forearm. I have seen your neck and your shoulder blade and I remember when I saw your ankles once" he shrugged "Forgive me but as an artist, I must use any resources to form a muse"

"What else have you seen?" you asked in a whisper, you could smell the brandy out of your mouth too

"I have seen your chest, only the beautiful way the collarbone curves, and I have imagined the shape of your breasts... I have imagined the curves of your belly, your waist and hips and... your thighs and" he bit his lip as his eyes looked at your covered legs "and the rest"

Your mouth gaped and felt the air in the studio become thick and hot "Oh"

"Yes, forgive me"

"Don't" you whispered, the heat from your body becoming unbearable

"And..." he added, his face closer "I have used you in my mind with the purpose of-"

"Painting?" you asked

This time Benedict squinted his eyes and then stared at you "Not quite. It feels like a puzzle"

"How so?"

"I had it almost built with everything I know about you. I am sure I could write a book about your person and you won't know how I know those things yet I miss some pieces that I know I should be patient getting them" he slowly shook his head "And you?"

"Me?"

"Have you thought of me?"

"A little"

"More than a little?" he smiled

You were sure he was testing your level of knowledge. And indeed your level is high. You know the human male form if that is what he is asking. Have you thought of him in such state?

"I have wondered..." you murmured "What is about your lips that are always so... rosy?"

Benedict smiled "Do they look inviting?" he said leaning closer

For once you did not retract more into the couch, not that you could more. You took a breath and said "I don't know"

"Would you like to know?"

"Benedict"

"I am only asking"

"What else would you do if I said yes?"

"Taste yours in return"

Your lips parted and you were not able to speak. He was staring at you in a way that made your whole body tremble, the tingle in your belly becoming an actual throb between your legs.

"Miss Ashbourne"

"Mr. Bridgerton"

"Do I have to spell it out? I want to kiss you"

"Why?"

"Because I have been waiting a long time to do so"

"You said we are friends, friends don't kiss"

"Friends don't confess either but here we are" he moved a bit more, his lips only a few inches from yours "I need to know how is it that the world makes sense, how is it that I can have the inspiration that has left me in such a long time. Is it all the alcohol or is it you? You are the answer, right?"

"I don't know"

"Can I find out?"

"Please do"

The words made his heart flutter and the air became thick, his lips touched yours and it was like an electric shock. You felt the room spinning in darkness as you closed your eyes. You felt the softness of his lips against you and quite indeed the fruity lingering of brandy. It was the perfect mix of both. The kiss grew the opposite of chaste. The feeling was so overwhelming and you felt like Benedict was going to consume you and the most curious thing is that you were willing.

You felt his ample hand touching your back and pushing you against him and that made the kiss grow wild. You moved your head and let the passion guide the kiss. The world made sense like this and still, it made no sense at all.

"Y/N" he whispered between the kiss and moved to your cheek and kissed behind your ear

"What?"

"You have freckles here," he said and kissed your skin "Here" another kiss and another "and here. It is like admiring a masterpiece no one has ever left you get near before"

You grew impatient for how many words were coming from his mouth when he could have been kissing you more. You searched for his lips and found them in a latch that made him growl and move his tongue to play with yours. You were so lost in his kiss that the feeling in your stomach grew and grew and was about to explode.

Benedict's hands moved to the side of your hip and then the top of your thigh where he squeezed. A gentle moan escaped your lips, and he swallowed it.

"You are a dream," he said between kisses "A beautiful and vivid dream"

"And you are a madman"

"Perhaps," he said and pressed his lips to yours once more, the kiss was different, his lips moved to yours and it was as if he was trying to memorize every single spot. You felt your whole body reacting and it was becoming hard to breathe.

The feeling was so strong that it was unbearable. The tingling turned into a throb and it was making you lose control, your hands fought with your mind as if they needed to pull the skirt of your gown and touch yourself.

"You taste better than the finest whiskey," he said as his mouth moved to your neck. Your head fell back and gave him more access to your skin.

"Benedict" you whispered

"I love how you say my name. You always have so many things to say" he kissed deeply on your gentle skin "but now you only say my name"

How can this night end? So many scenarios ran through your mind but alas the wetness of his mouth made the rest disappear.

He pressed his body against you and his hand moved to your knee. A small moan escaped your lips and it made him look into your eyes.

"What is the matter?"

"N-nothing"

"It is something. Did I hurt you?"

"No"

"Then what?"

"I..."

"Y/N" he whispered

"I don't know how can this... be... grow more than a kiss"

He saw the innocence of your statement, of course, he could never compare you to the other women he has met. They knew with exactitude how this could "grow" and yet you, a different golden fruit in front of him were questioning whether a kiss is already what means intimacy.

"It can" he gulped seeing your shining eyes "It definitely can"

"How"

"I cannot show you now, my dear"

"Why?"

"Because I don't trust myself"

"But-"

"I want you, Y/N. Not only your mouth but all of you" he moved his hand and cupped your face "I cannot show you this tonight but if you will give me the chance, I promise I will do my best"

"To what?" your question carried a heavy responsibility in its meaning

"To..." he snorted "do something. I don't know" he laughed "Close that robe of yours and I shall accompany you to your house. You ought to sleep now"

"Impossible"

"Do your best" he kissed your forehead "Let's go"

The night was quiet, and as he held your hand and guided you through the back gardens of the other houses you kept yourself in silence. The soil under your slippers was not there you were sure. As if you were floating.

"Go on then," he said pointing at the backdoor "Be a good girl and sleep"

Suddenly the wetness you felt between your legs came back "Right... shall I see you tomorrow?"

He took your hand and placed a finger but he stole a very haste kiss from your lips. A grin on his face as you smiled inr return at the stolen kiss "You will"

"And the day after?"

"Of course"

"And the one after that"

"You are being too greedy but I'll say yes because it is you"

You nodded and turned the knob of the back door but a hand turned you gently away from it "Yes?"

Benedict stood there like a child. He was silent and then he softly smiled "Nothing, go on you, sneaky girl. Next time don't even bother bringing that poetry book. We won't need it"

697 notes · View notes

mxlti-fand0m-imaginess · 5 months

Text

We’re Still Not Friends // JJ Maybank*

request: none!

prompts: none!

summary: after successfully forcing kie and sarah to make up, john b and pope decide to strand you and jj on a boat together in the hopes that you’ll finally get along. things don’t really go the way they expected.

warnings: smut, mean!jj, dom!jj, language, oral (m receiving), slight dub con, hair pulling, p in v, unprotected sex, degradation (reader gets called slut once), choking, creampie, very slight mention of blood

word count: 2.6k

a/n: gn!reader, reader has female anatomy

join my taglist!

“What exactly am I supposed to do here? The entire engine is gone, what do you want me to do? Is this a joke or something?” JJ asked, lifting his head to see that John B and Pope were no longer standing behind him.

“What the-?” he said, standing up and walking over to the edge of the boat, only to see John B and Pope climbing back onto the boat that Kie and Sarah had used to bring him here.

A sudden banging from below deck caught JJ’s attention, along with your voice angrily yelling, “Let me out! I swear to god Pope, let me out now!”

JJ reached down and pulled the hatch open, his eyes narrowing in annoyance when he saw you. Similarly, you rolled your eyes and shoved his hands aside, climbing out of the small crawl space you had been tricked into.

“What the fuck guys?” JJ asked, turning back to his friends.

John B shrugged. “It worked for Sarah and Kie. And you guys fight even more than them. If we wanna actually have a chance at finding the gold, you two need to grow up and work out your issues.”

“You’re not seriously leaving me here with him!” you yelled, crossing your arms in frustration.

However, your friends had already started up their boat and turned around, heading off in the direction they had come from, ignoring yours and JJ’s protests. You huffed and pulled off your shirt and shorts, stripping down into your bikini in a desperate attempt to catch up with them. In your haste to jump off the boat, you hadn’t noticed JJ’s eyes. More specifically, how they raked over your now nearly exposed body.

“You’re not gonna catch up with them, y’know. Probably gonna drown before you even make it that far. On second thought, keep going,” JJ said, that same irritating smirk present on his face.

You huffed in annoyance and reluctantly turned around, climbing back onto the boat. You shivered slightly at the breeze, the water on your skin chilling you.

“Dramatic much?” JJ asked, leaning against the wall of the engine room.

“God, could you just shut up for once?!”

He grinned, pushing off the wall and walking over to you. “Well, I could. But then how else would I be able to see the cute little scowl on your face?”

You rolled your eyes and walked past him, your shoulder bumping into him, as you reached for a towel resting on the small bench. You patted down your damp skin and squeezed your hair with the towel, before dropping it back in its spot. You reached down and grabbed your shorts, slipping them back on.

JJ groaned. “Now what’re you doing that for? You’re blocking the view!”

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words, and he smiled cockily at the reaction he managed to pull out of you.

“Perv!” you said, shoving his shoulder back.

He simply smirked in response, stepping closer to you and placing his hands on your shoulders. “Don’t be like that. You know you love it.”

You looked up at him, your breath catching in your throat when you realized just how close he was to you. You might’ve hated him, but there was no denying that he was beautiful. You’ve caught yourself staring at him more than a few times, and you knew that he’d been doing the same to you. There was an undeniable attraction between the two of you, and if things had been different, he probably would’ve been your boyfriend by now. But there was just something between your personality and his that clashed, and prevented anything more from happening with him.

JJ looked down at you, and as if he suddenly realized how close he had gotten, he pushed you away from him, causing you to stumble back. You scowled at him, your eyes narrow and trained on his.

“What the hell was that for?!” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest and taking a tentative step towards him.

JJ opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Almost as if he couldn’t figure out what he was supposed to say, or if he didn’t even know why he had just shoved you. You waited impatiently, your fingers tapping against your arm. He seemed to be debating something, but what, you had no clue.

“What now? Did you forget how to speak?” you snarked, a harsh bite to your tone.

JJ shook his head in exasperation and walked over to you again, placing his hands against your upper arms. “Just shut the fuck up.”

You opened your mouth to retaliate, but before you could even get a sound out, his lips were on yours. Your eyes widened in shock and you froze, not entirely understanding what was happening or why, but also not disliking it either.

JJ pulled away a few moments later, realizing that you hadn’t kissed him back. He almost looked embarrassed by his actions, and you had to bite back a smirk at the expression.

“Fuck. I don’t know why I did that. I’m sorry,” he said, looking genuinely apologetic, which was very unlike him. Especially towards you.

You shook your head and smirked, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him back down, echoing his words from earlier. “Just shut the fuck up.”

This time, you kissed him, pulling him closer to you as you felt his hands rest on your waist. This was the first gentle and sweet moment shared between you two, but it didn’t last long.

JJ’s movements grew more aggressive as his lips moved against yours. You tried to match his pace, but ultimately were unable to catch up, allowing JJ to dominate the kiss. His hands moved from your waist to your ass, harshly squeezing the flesh beneath his hands. You gasped at the feeling, and JJ took advantage of your lips parting by forcing his tongue into your mouth.

You fell victim to his touch and his charm, allowing him to touch you wherever he wanted and to use you however he pleased. Your hands slid from his neck and down his chest, landing on his belt as you desperately tried to undo it.

JJ smirked against your lips. “Someone’s needy.”

You simply brushed your hand over his growing bulge in response, smirking at the soft noise that fell from his lips. “I could say the same about you.”

He groaned in annoyance and pulled away from the kiss, placing his hands on your shoulders and forcing you down to your knees. He looked down at you, grinning wickedly at the dazed expression on your face.

“Think I finally found a way to shut you up.”

You were about to question what he meant when you saw him undo the fly on his shorts and push them down to his ankles, his boxers following soon after. Your eyes widened when you came face to face with his painfully hard cock. He was big. Bigger than any of the guys you had been with before. He was girthy and long, but not so long that you had to worry about being split in half. There was a prominent vein running along the underside of his length, and his tip was already leaking precum. Your mouth watered at the sight.

He wrapped his hand around the base of his cock, slapping the tip of it against your cheek before running it across your lips.

“Open your mouth before I force it open.”

You shivered slightly at his words, his commanding tone going straight to your core and worsening the condition of your already soaked through panties. And so, you complied. Tilting your head towards him, your mouth fell open and your tongue lolled out. Your eyes were trained on him, waiting for his next movement.

The second your lips parted, JJ shoved his entire length down your throat and gripped your hair to keep you in place, ignoring your protests as you gagged around him. For a while, he didn’t even move, relishing in watching you struggle to breathe beneath him, choking on his cock.

JJ pulled your head back, giving you the chance to breathe again. But before you could even catch your breath, JJ pulled you back down and start fucking your throat. Your eyes watered as you gagged around his length. Your hands pushed at his thighs to try and get away, but he only tightened his grip in your hair in response.

“Fuck…” JJ groaned out. “Always knew you had a mouth on you.” A cocky grin overtook his face and he looked down at you.

You felt his cock twitch in your throat, and JJ pulled your mouth off of him with a huff. You gulped in air, coughing and sputtering as you tried to catch your breath.

“As much as I’d love to see that pretty little mouth of yours dripping with my cum, I’d much rather fill you up instead,” JJ said, pulling you up by your hair and leading you over to the bench, pushing you down onto it.

You winced at the impact, and brought your hand up to rub at your scalp, which was still stinging from his grip on your hair.

“Do you have to be so aggressive?” you grumbled, glaring up at him.

“What? You don’t like it?” JJ tutted, placing his hands on either side of your head and leaning down, effectively caging you in with his broad form. “I think you’re lying.”

You shook your head, your tough exterior slowly cracking the longer his piercing blue eyes stayed locked on yours. “I’m not lying.”

“I guess we’ll just have to see about that, won’t we?” JJ said, smirking down at you as he trailed a hand down your torso, slipping his hand past the waistband of your shorts and the bikini bottoms you were wearing underneath them.

Your breath hitched at the contact and your face grew hot from the shit eating grin on JJ’s face as his fingers came in contact with your aching core.

“What was that about not liking it? You’re soaked, princess. Absolutely dripping.”

Your breath shuddered as he trailed his fingers back up your cunt, effectively brushing against your clit in the process.

“That sensitive already? You really are desperate for me, huh?”

You fought the urge to bite back at him, your overwhelming arousal smothering any sense of pride you had. You hated letting him win, but right now, all you wanted was for him to touch you.

“Please…” you whispered, your face growing even hotter.

“Such a needy little thing. Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you want. I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you'll forget your own name.”

You whimpered at his words, your need growing with every passing second. He knew what he was doing, drawing this out, making you wait. He was savoring his power over you, something that he’d never had before. Seeing you so weak beneath him, so desperate for his touch, for his cock, that was a power trip that he never wanted to come down from.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to pull him closer, as you dug your fingers into his shoulders. You whined pitifully, desperately trying to get JJ to dull the ache between your legs, but he just smiled down at you.

“Y’know, I think I like you better like this. All desperate and pathetic. You’re hardly even a brat anymore. Think I might wanna take my time, savor you being like this.”

You whined louder, your back arching slightly as you tried to pull JJ forward. “Fuck… please!”

“Please, what? Gotta use your words, ‘m not a mind reader,” JJ said, grinning down at you, his hands holding your hips in a bruising grip.

“Please, fuck me. Please, fuck me, JJ,” you mewled, any ounce of embarrassment thrown out the window by your growing desperation.

JJ smirked and leaned down to press a sloppy kiss against your lips. “Since you asked so nicely…”

JJ started to push in, and you half expected him to give you time to adjust, hoping that his hatred for you wouldn’t completely overshadow any potential concern about your wellbeing. But unfortunately for you, that wasn’t the case. Almost immediately after sheathing himself completely inside of you, JJ began to fuck you mercilessly.

You didn’t have a chance to catch your breath, let alone adjust to the stretch, before his cock started abusing your walls. You cried out, both in pain and pleasure, and your nails dug deeper into the flesh of his shoulders, breaking the skin under your relentless grip. JJ groaned at the feeling, the sting from your nails only enhancing the pleasure he was already experiencing.

“JJ, slow down! Please, ‘s too much!” you said, your words punctuated by the continuous whimpers falling from your lips.

“Not a chance, princess. You feel too fucking good. I don’t think I could slow down even if I wanted to,” JJ replied, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple, the odd intimacy from the act being a stark contrast to the brutalness of his thrusts. “But you can take it, can’t you? Little slut like you can handle almost anything.”

You whined at his words, the cruelness behind them making your cheeks burn in embarrassment and simultaneously heightening the throbbing between your legs.

“Want you to cum first. Wanna feel you cum around me,” JJ mumbled, removing one of his hands from your hips and bringing his thumb down onto your clit, harshly rubbing circles onto the sensitive nub.

Your back arched as you felt yourself growing closer and closer to release. The brutal pace JJ was fucking you at still burned, but somehow that pain only heightened your pleasure, and now with the stimulation on your clit, you felt that knot in your stomach tightening, getting closer and closer to snapping.

“Fuck! F-fuck! I’m- I’m gonna cum!” you babbled out, nails clawing at JJ’s back and leaving angry red scratched in their wake.

“That’s it, that’s it. Cum all over my fucking cock,” JJ grunted, wrapping his free hand around your throat and squeezing, a dizzy blissfulness overtaking your being.

You moaned again, louder than before, as you came undone underneath him. His grip on your neck had you seeing stars, and his unrelenting abuse on your cunt prolonged the euphoric feeling as you came around his cock.

Your body went limp beneath him, still catching your breath from one of the best orgasms you had ever had, but JJ didn’t let up. The feeling of your walls spasming around him pushing him over the edge, and you gasped softly when you felt him finish inside of you, warm spurts of cum painting your walls.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” JJ grunted as he rode out his high, his grip on your throat disappearing and his movements finally ceasing as he collapsed on top of you.

After a few moments of silence between the two of you, you finally spoke up. “So… I guess their plan worked, huh?”

JJ scoffed, propping himself up on his elbows to look down at you. “You’re kidding me, right? I still can’t fucking stand you.”

You looked up at him incredulously. “Really? After all that?”

JJ huffed and pulled out, causing you to wince at the oversensitivity. You felt his spend begin to drip out of you, and you caught JJ staring at your leaking cunt with a cocky smirk on his face.

“It’s called sexual tension, princess. We’re still not friends. But… that doesn’t mean we can’t fuck again.”

You felt a smile grow on your face. “I can live with that.”

tags: none

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proxima-writes · 4 months

Text

along for the ride

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count:

summary: when joel finds out tommy put out a craigslist ad to get him a date for valentine’s day, he doesn’t expect it to go as well as it does.

author’s note: i finally finished something! was it anything from my extensive wip list? no! don’t think about it too hard! anyways, if you enjoy this fic, please consider giving it a reblog, a comment, or dropping into my ask box 💕

warnings/tags: explicit sexual content (18+ minors dni), no use of y/n, pre-outbreak!joel miller, no mentions of sarah, little shit!tommy miller, blind date, internet safety whomst, vaginal fingering, oral sex, woman on top, p in v, dirty talk, pet names. let me know if i’ve missed any!

“I have a surprise for you,” Tommy says at dinner. Joel pauses, fork scraping against his plate.

“That can’t be good,” he sighs. “What now?”

“Why do you assume it’s somethin’ bad?”

“Last time you said you had a surprise for me, I had chickens in my backyard.”

Tommy laughs. “It’s nothin’ like that this time.”

“Well, then, spit it out,” Joel demands.

Tommy reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a folded piece of paper that he opens on the table, smoothing out the creases before sliding it over to Joel.

“Reservation confirmation?” Joel reads. He recognizes the name of the restaurant, the kind of place where the waiters dress in all black and the menu doesn’t have prices listed beside the items.

“Yep. I got you your first Valentine’s Day date,” Tommy replies proudly. Joel glares at him.

“What do you mean?”

seeking valentine

36M looking to treat a lady to a date to remember. pic attached. email [email protected] with a pic and bio for consideration.

[img01.jpg]

You’re half a bottle of wine deep when you stumble across the Craigslist ad. When you click on the picture, your interest is further piqued by the handsome man that appears on the screen. He’s standing in front of a black pick up truck dressed in jeans and a t-shirt that stretches across his tan muscles. His brown hair is cut short, just enough length for you to notice that it’s beginning to curl across his forehead and by his neck. His beard frames a bright smile that crinkles the corners of his dark eyes.

Whoever he is, he’s hot. He’d be the perfect way to get over being dumped two weeks ago by your boyfriend of two years.

Your logic was lost somewhere between your second and third glasses of wine, which is why you click on the e-mail address in the ad and start typing. The reply is normal, at first, facts about yourself like your name and age and occupation, but you quickly end up derailing the message with an explanation about why this handsome guy should pick you, making sure to include that you’ve already got a reservation at a popular restaurant for the occasion. The picture you add is a recent photo from a cousin’s wedding that your aunt had e-mailed to you.

Before you can think better of it, you click send. You take one last look at the man’s photo before shutting your laptop and stumbling off to bed to dream of brown eyes and tan skin.

Joel taps his fingers against the white tablecloth, eyes fixed on the door of the restaurant. This is stupid, he thinks. Why did he agree to this? Why did he let Tommy convince him this was a good idea? He should have just told him no and been done with it but somehow he’s here, sitting at a table for two in a fancy restaurant and feeling like a sore thumb in the only suit he owns.

He’s lost enough in his thoughts that he doesn’t see you when you first come in, doesn’t realize you’re here until the hostess is walking up with you close behind in a beautiful dress and he suddenly remembers exactly why he agreed to Tommy’s idiot scheme.

“Joel?” You ask. He stands, nearly knocking the table in his haste to greet you. You lean in for a brief hug and he catches the warm vanilla scent of you before you pull away and smile at him.

He rounds the table to pull your chair out for you and makes sure you’re settled before returning to his seat. A waiter swoops by to offer the wine menu and explain the pre fixe menu for the evening while he pours two complimentary glasses of champagne into the crystal glasses beside your plates. An awkward silence settles when he leaves, Joel’s leg bouncing anxiously beneath the table as he tries to think of something to say.

“This is weird, right?” You finally say. “This feels weird.”

Joel breathes a sigh of relief. “That’s just what I was thinkin’.”

"Oh, thank god." You take a long sip of your champagne. "I can't believe I actually responded to a Craigslist ad for a date."

"I can't believe my stupid brother came up with this whole thing," Joel replies. "I could'a killed him."

Your eyes go wide. "Wait, your brother made the post? Why?!"

"He seems to think that at thirty-six, I should have had a date for Valentine's Day by now," Joel explains. "Why did you respond to the ad?"

"I had been drinking a lot of wine and having a lot of feelings and the internet was unfortunately not helping the situation."

Joel laughs, tension leaving his shoulders as he does. "We're an interestin' pair, huh?"

"Cheers to that," you reply, lifting your glass for him to tap his against with a gentle clink.

As the dinner progresses, the conversation starts to flow with surprising ease. No topic goes untouched, from jobs to hobbies to a long list of favorites. When you’ve exhausted those topics, you move on to swapping stories about your friends and families. By the time he finishes paying a hefty check (and declining your offer to split the cost), Joel feels like he’s known you for a lifetime.

"I had a really nice time, Joel.”

"Me, too," he replies. Christ, you're pretty, bright eyed as you look at him with a soft smile. He reaches for your hand, pulling you closer until your chest brushes his and can wrap an arm around your waist. "This okay?"

"Mhm," you hum with a little nod. Joel's gaze drops to your mouth and he finds himself wondering what your pretty lips would feel like as he kissed you. Would he be able to taste that chocolate torte from dessert on your tongue?

“Joel?” You whisper. He didn’t even realize how close he’s gotten, a few scant inches separating you now. “Are you going to kiss me or not?”

He chuckles. “You want me to?”

“Please.”

Joel kisses you, warm lips moving in perfect harmony with yours. It’s chaste, until it’s not. It’s chaste, until his tongue sweeps against your bottom lip and dips inside to tangle with yours. It’s chaste, until his hands are pulling you closer with a tight grip on your hips and—

“Get a room!”

You break apart, startled by the shout from someone passing by on the sidewalk. You can’t stop the laugh that breaks free, your shoulders shaking with the force of it.

“You wanna get out of here?” Joel asks. “I can walk you to your car.”

“I took a cab, actually.”

Joel smirks. “You want a ride, sweetheart?”

Your face grows hot from the look in his eyes, the double meaning to his words not lost. He holds a hand out and you slip your palm against his, fingers folding together so that he can lead you to the parking lot down the street from the restaurant.

Joel opens the passenger door of the truck you recognize from the photo in the ad, helping you step up into the cab and going so far as to pull the seatbelt down, reaching across your body to fasten it. He looks up at as he pulls away, hand dragging across your stomach and making you shiver.

He shuts the door and gets in the driver’s seat, pulling out of the parking lot and following your directions toward your apartment. At the first red light, he settles his broad palm on your thigh, just above your knee, giving you a little squeeze. Feeling bold, you spread your legs the tiniest bit and Joel takes the invitation for what it is, sliding his hand higher.

The light turns green and the sudden movement presses you to the back of the seat, jostles you enough that your legs fall open further. You move to close them, but Joel’s hand moves again, high enough now that if you moved the slightest bit, you could probably get some relief from the ache that’s been building since he kissed you.

His pinky stretches, barely grazing your pussy, but it makes you gasp nonetheless, squirming in your seat from the want. At the next red light, he abandons all pretense, slipping his hand beneath the elastic of your panties and dragging his fingers through the embarrassing amount of wetness that’s already gathered there for him.

“Fuck,” he groans. You turn your head to look at him, his sharp jaw clenched tight as he circles your clit with his index and middle finger. “This wet for me already, baby?”

You moan in response, unable to form words as he touches you, alternating between soft strokes and fast circles over your sensitive clit. Your hips chase his every movement, desperate for relief from the pressure building in your core.

“Joel,” you whimper, grabbing his forearm, digging your nails into the muscle. Your eyes squeeze shut against the overwhelming sensations.

He turns the truck and hastily throws it in park, pulling his hand from you just as you were cresting that wave. You whine at the loss but he shushes you, undoing your seatbelt and getting out of the truck with a slam of the door. It takes you a second to realize he’s stopped because you’ve reached your apartment complex.

The passenger door opens and Joel is there, gripping the door tightly. “Let’s go.”

You lead him to your door on unsteady legs. He follows you inside your apartment, pressed close to your back while you set your bag on the table by the door.

“Where’s your room?” He asks, hands already rucking up the fabric of your dress. “I gotta finish what I started.”

You hurry down the hall to your room together and you silently thank your past self for cleaning up before your date. Joel wastes no time reaching for the hem of your dress, tugging it up over your head and tossing it into a heap on the floor.

“Fuck, even prettier than I imagined,” he groans, dropping to his knees. “Soon as you walked in wearin’ that I knew I was a goner.” He eases your panties down your thighs, helps you step out of them without toppling over. “On the bed.”

You obey without hesitation, crawling across your familiar mattress and lying on your back, head on your pile of pillows. Joel removes his suit jacket, eyes dark as his gaze roams across your body and makes your skin prickle under the intensity. His shirt and pants follow in quick succession, leaving him in a pair of boxer briefs that highlight an impressive bulge.

Joel joins you on the bed and you’re hypnotized by the movement of muscle beneath tan skin. He urges your legs apart, calves draped over his broad shoulders to give him room to settle between your thighs. He looks up at you, holding your gaze as he takes his first taste of you with a deep groan you feel through your whole body.

Your head drops back to your pillow with a shout, legs tensing around Joel’s head. You bury your hands in his hair, holding on tight while he devours you. His tongue circles your clit before dipping down to your dripping center to curl inside of you. A thick finger follows, pressing deep and withdrawing slowly.

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” Joel says. “How’s that feel, huh?”

“So good,” you moan. “More, please, Joel.”

“Since you asked so nicely.”

He eases another finger into you, curling them along your front wall with pointed focus. That knot of release tights again, your muscles growing tense with it the longer he moves with your body. He wraps his lips around your aching clit, alternating between sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth and working it with his tongue until you’re shouting a string of curses and shatter beneath him.

Joel works you through your orgasm until you’re gasping for breath, more puddle than human. He crawls up your body, leaving kisses on what seems like every inch of you as he does and you pull him close when he’s face to face with you, kissing him deeply and chasing the earthy taste of yourself from his mouth.

His hips press against yours, grinding his length against your inner thigh. The kiss turns sloppy, his breath coming in sharp pants and thrusts growing frantic, skin dappled with sweat in the warm air of your room. You tilt your hips, pushing a hand against his shoulder to get him flat on his back with you straddling his waist, stomach flexing beneath you.

He’s deliciously disheveled beneath you with messy hair and kiss swollen lips. His hands find your thighs, sliding upward over your stomach to find your breasts, pinching a nipple between his fingers and making you hiss. Your hips rock over the softness of his belly and you reach behind yourself to palm his cock.

“Look real good like this,” Joel pants, flexing into your touch.

“Well, you did ask me if I wanted a ride,” you tell him.

You lean over towards your nightstand, tugging the top drawer open and rummaging around for a condom. Foil packet in hand, you lift off of Joel for a moment to allow him the chance to hastily shove his underwear off before settling back down on top of his thighs and taking his length in your hand with a slow stroke that makes his mouth drop open, cock pulsing against your palm. You lean forward, licking the flushed tip clean of the pre-cum gathered there.

“You’re killin’ me,” Joel says through gritted teeth. “Wanna feel you, quit teasin’.”

You decide to put you both out of your misery, ripping the condom wrapper and rolling the latex over him. You lift up and he holds his cock steady with a fist around the base as you position yourself over him on your knees and slowly take him into your tight heat, twin moans echoing in the room as you do.

When your hips are flush with his, the wiry curls at the base of his cock grow damp with your arousal as you rock above him, grinding your clit against him and clenching around his length. He holds your hips in a loose grasp, not urging your movements but feeling them as you chase your pleasure.

“Christ,” Joel moans, head tipped back and eyes squeezed shut. He plants his feet, thrusting up as you grind down and making you gasp. “Ain’t lastin’ much longer, baby.”

You lean forward, changing the angle and allowing him to pound inside of you, his cock pulsing as his release nears. You’re right there with him, the drag of his cock against that sweet spot inside of you making you tip over the edge with a shout muffled into the sweat slick skin of his neck.

He slams himself deep, cock pulsing as he spends himself into the condom inside of you. You collapse against his chest, the two of you catching your breath in the aftermath. When you roll off of Joel and onto the mattress, he’s quick to pull you back against him, your head resting on his chest.

“That was—“

“Yeah,” you interrupt breathlessly. “It was.”

After a moment, Joel quietly asks, “What now?”

“You can stay…if you want.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, fingertips brushing along your shoulder. “I want that.”

Joel’s phone rings at an ungodly hour the next morning. He struggles to find his discarded pants in the dark but when he finally unearths the obnoxious device, his greeting is a snapped, “What?”

“He lives!” Tommy cheers from the other end. “It was a fifty-fifty chance you were dead or in bed.”

“What do you want, Tommy?”

“Just checkin’ to see how the date went. Must’ve been pretty good, seein’ as how I’m at your house and you’re nowhere to be found.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Fuck off,” he says. He’s about to hang up when he hears Tommy shout, “Wait!”

“What now?” Joel asks.

“Ain’t you gonna thank me?”

Joel snaps the phone shut, tossing it into the piles of clothes and crawling back into bed with you.

Joel Miller masterlist

All masterlists

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel tlou #no use of y/n #joel x reader #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character fic #tlou fanfiction #tommy tlou

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cameronspecial · 3 months

Note

Hey I have this idea that I saw on TikTok….

Major fluff!rafe & protective!rafe

Reader comes to stay with Cameron’s because her parents were abusing her and Ward offered for to live with his family. Reader think that cleaning their house earns her love. Rafe takes care of her.

To Earn Your Love

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Emotional and Psychological Abuse

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.2K

Masterlist

Sarah found Y/N at the curb of the Country Club. Y/N had been sleeping at the club in any hidden nook or cranny that she could find before she got kicked out. She was once a patron of the establishment; however, once her family finally removed her from their membership, the employees who saw her during the day could no longer allow her inside. Sarah was quick to offer Y/N a place to stay at Tannyhill and after hearing her story, Ward was quick to agree that the girl could stay. Her parents had disowned her for planning on going to university after her gap year instead of working at the family business. They had her future set in stone and when she didn’t want what they had planned, they suddenly didn’t have a daughter anymore. Y/N didn’t want to accept the offer. How would it look if she is seen staying at the Camerons? What would people think about her parents? Sarah and Ward were able to convince her to stay though and through this whole process, Rafe remained silent in the corner of the room with an unreadable expression on his face.

Rafe couldn’t believe that the Y/L/Ns would do that to their own precious daughter. He graduated with Y/N and he knew what a sweet and nice girl she was. She was a daughter that would make any parent proud, except for Riley and Ford Y/L/N apparently. As he listened to her explain the details of how they would treat her, his ball would curl up at the signs of emotional and psychological abuse she had been experiencing. They made her believe that a parent's love was conditional on certain factors and that she could only be worthy of being their daughter if she did everything they wanted when that was far from the truth. Rafe had to stop himself from paying her parents a visit.

———

A crash coming from downstairs makes Rafe bolt upright. His first instinct is to grab the baseball bat he keeps by his bed and to check on Y/N in the guest bedroom. When he finds the room empty, he dashes downstairs in search of her. He hears movement coming from the kitchen, raising the bat in preparation to swing. He steps into the dimly lit room about to hit whoever is inside when a tiny yelp stops him in his tracks. “Y/N?” He turns on the lights to find Y/N hunched over broken glass with fear in her eyes. Tears begin to brim her eyelids and she rushes to pick up the shards. “I am so sorry I woke you. I am going to clean it up right away. You can turn the lights off and go back upstairs. I will clean it,” she insists. In her haste, a jagged edge slips across her skin and crimson liquid blooms across the cut. She continues to clean up the mess that she made. Rafe squats in front of her and gently holds onto her wrists to stop her. “Hey, forget about this. You are bleeding,” he shushes. She drops the glass onto the floor, letting him place her on the counter near the sink. “I really need to clean it, Rafe. Someone can get hurt.” He places a hand over her knees, “It’s okay. I’ll clean it. Just let me take care of you first, Princess.”

She gives him a meagre nod and holds out her bleeding finger to him. He grabs her hand, running the finger under the water before patting it dry. He steps away from her for a second to grab a bandaid from the cabinet. He places the bandaid on her wound and gives a kiss to the injury. She sets her hand back onto her lap, dropping her gaze to her lap. “I should get back to work,” she mumbles. She jumps off the counter and goes to get the broom in the pantry. Rafe’s eyebrows come to a knit, “Get back to work? What were you doing down here in the dark, Princess?” He assumed she came down for water. But upon looking around the room, he spots cleaning supplies scattered around the kitchen.

“I’m cleaning. I’m sorry I woke you. I promise it won’t happen again. You can go back to sleep now,” she promises, sweeping up the glass. Rafe tries to conceal his anger so he doesn’t scare her, yet the thought of her thinking that this is normal infuriates him. Once she has the glass cleaned, he takes the dustpan from her hand and puts it away. He returns back in front of her and tilts her head to look at him. “You don’t need to clean for us, Princess. We have a cleaner,” he informs her. She shakes her head, “It’s okay. I can do it. How else am I supposed to show you that I am grateful for everything? How am I supposed to earn your love?” Rafe starts to think back since she has started staying with them. How the house has seemed clean even though it has been a week since the cleaner came? How, when he came home late at night, it would sometimes feel like someone was in the room next door as he went upstairs? “Princess, how long have you been doing this?” he questions. Her eyes find his, “Every night since I’ve been here. I was doing such a good job too. I haven’t woken up anyone since tonight.” He brushes her hair back from her forehead with his thumb and places a kiss on the skin. “You don’t have to do this anymore. You don’t have to earn our love because we already love you,” he whispers to her, bringing her into a tight embrace.

She disagrees, “You guys deserve a clean home and not to be woken up in the night while I do so. Am I not doing a good job? Should I use a different cleaning product? Or should I wipe the table in a circle instead of up and down?” “You want to do a good job, then we need you to stop, okay? Because you can’t earn something you already have and we don’t want the people we love staying up to clean. I don’t want the person I love to hurt herself doing this every night. Plus, if you keep taking any more of my love, then I won’t have anything more to give,” he swears to her. Her hands land on his bicep, “You love me?”

“I do and I also really want you to go to sleep right now. So how about we go back upstairs, yeah?”

“Can I just finish cleaning the kitchen first?”

“If you do, then I am going to stay and help you.”

Her face freezes as she thinks about his condition, “I guess we can go upstairs.” Rafe grins in victory, taking her hand and turning off the lights as he leads her upstairs. “Rafe, can I sleep in your room tonight? I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep so early,” she questions, which makes his heartache. This is obviously so engrained in her schedule and he couldn’t believe they hadn’t noticed. He nods, pulling her into his bedroom with her. As her head rests on his chest, Rafe vows to himself that he is going to show her what love truly is.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

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sersi · 8 months

Text

Brie Larson as Elizabeth Zott in Lessons in Chemistry (2023) Episode 1: Little Miss Hastings dir. Sarah Adina Smith

#tvedit #perioddramaedit #appletvedit #blarsonedit #lessonsinchemistryedit #useramyk #**elysiaedits #**elysia's gifs #brie larson #elizabeth zott #lessons in chemistry #tv #lessons in chemistry spoilers

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livingemkayde · 11 months

Text

ch ii. wild things

joel miller x f!reader x unrequited!tommy miller

chapter two of chaser

warnings: 18+ minors please dni. kissing. mentions of sexual situations. bit of a love triangle forming. age gap, reader is 23 and joel is 35. Tommy is 30. (ages of all characters and plot do not follow canon strictly for the story’s sake). no use of y/n!

a/n: wowza!! after careful consideration i am definitely making this into a series due to all the requests and comments in my inbox!! thanks for all the love on chaser and on my dbf!joel series which you can find all the parts to here. i love u all so much. i had a bit of an idea to write joel x reader mixed with one sided tommy x reader so this will evolve into that. who knows what will happen!! haha….

if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist!

You watch his hands on the steering wheel. His thick fingers flicker on the settings for the radio, or tap on the top of the wheel when you stop at a red light. It’s intoxicating. He’s intoxicating. But you already knew that. “You can’t be starin’ at me like that in the house.” You blush, snapping out of your dream-like haze.

For a split second, it does cross your mind to turn around and run away.

But you’re already here. Joel is looking at you, mouth agape — you’re sure you look the same, if not worse. The little girl standing next to Joel giggles at you, smiling.

Fuck.

“Hi,” you say, breathless. You aren’t sure if you’re talking to her or Joel.

But she squeaks a small hi, reaches for your hand, and pulls you into the house.

You look up at him as you pass, he sucks in a breath and for a haste second, his eyes glance down towards your chest. Your movements feel slowed as you pass him. Like a scene from a movie — not unlike the feeling you had when you first bumped into him. You look up at him, a worried look fretted on your brow as he closes the door behind you.

She drops your hand and sits on the couch, Joel sits next to her, you on a love chair across from them.

It's quiet.

Way too quiet for what’s supposed to be an interview.

Joel keeps sending fleeting glances at you like he’s scared of what will happen if he meets your eye for more than two seconds.

“So…You’re — uh —” he starts, but doesn’t really know how to finish.

“Yeah,” you say for him. He looks back at you, his mouth slightly agape. Joel shakes his head like he’s trying to snap himself out of it.

“This is Sarah. She’s seven,” he looks down towards her, she looks at you with big brown eyes. Not unlike the one’s attached to the man sitting on the couch beside her.

“Hi there,” you smile at her.

“Hi,” she says, her dangling feet swinging off the couch. “You’re really pretty,” she says, shy.

“Why thank you,” you say, acting flushed. “You’re gorgeous yourself.”

Sarah blushes. You look at Joel and he stares back. A couple beats of silence and your hands start sweating.

“Yeah, so I guess I’m your nine a.m,” you say with a breathy chuckle, talking to Joel now — referring to the interview appointment.

“Guess so,” he says, his southern drawl overtaking his voice. He looks at you with eyes that show a curious emotion. You wonder what he’s thinking. But most of all, you wonder how long this — now ridiculous — interview is gonna take before he tells you to leave.

So much for a good fuck buddy.

“I—” he shakes his head again. “Sorry, how old are you?”

“I’m twenty-three.”

You are almost certain he swears under his breath.

“Right,” he says when Sarah gives him a funny look. You had put that on your resume that you submitted a week ago.

“College grad, or somethin’,” he says, pulling in a sharp breath at the words — and the realization.

“Yeah — uh — english.”

“Do you like books?” Sarah cuts into the tension, but she’s oblivious to the heat rising off your cheeks.

“Love them,” you smile at her, looking around, seeing a children's book on the coffee table separating you.

Where the Wild Things Are

You smile to yourself.

“Do you like reading, Sarah?”

She nods with a grin.

“I would love to take you down to the library. They’ve got all the books you can imagine,” you say, smiling.

She giggles and looks up to her dad with pleading eyes.

You’re not sure why you’re trying so hard to get this kid to like you but after last night, you aren’t really sure about anything anymore.

You can hear Sarah mumble into Joel’s ear.

Please, dad? I like her. The lady from yesterday was old.

His eyes cut to yours, and back down to the little girl whispering in his ear. You look around the house nervously. The Carhartt jacket that you distinctly remember from last night is draped on a chair in the kitchen.

Joel clears his throat, and to everyone in the room’s surprise, extends his hand. He looks a bit scared, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t terrified. But he utters those words in that drawl and you know you’re done for. Like all those hours before in the bar, then in the bathroom, and after that too when he slipped his name and number into your phone.

“You’re hired.”

You try to reason with yourself in the split second before you extend your hand to meet him.

Good pay. Sweet kid. Dad who you already fucked.

It might not be the worst thing — but it certainly doesn’t reign best in your mind. You take his hand after a beat. Your sweaty palm connects with his sturdy one. He gives you one shake and then drops your fingers. Sarah smiles up at you, you anxiously smile back. Joel gives you a gruff look that makes your pulse race.

“When can you start?” He asks after a few seconds.

“Tomorrow,” you say, maybe a bit too hastily, calming yourself down you reutter, “Tomorrow.”

“Alright, well… come ‘round eight. I gotta get to work tomorrow,” he stands, you follow him to the door, he mumbles to Sarah to play with some toys while you talk.

The cool morning air hits your face when he closes the door behind you. You stand face to face, shy eyes bending through the silence from both of you.

“I—” you stifle an awkward laugh, “I didn’t know. I wouldn’t…I wouldn’t have come if I’d known, obviously.”

“Right,” he agrees, looking down at his feet.

“We can…this can be —” another awkward laugh, “like this okay? Right?”

“Right,” Joel echoes while sending you a curt nod.

God, it's like pulling teeth.

“Look, I’m sorry — we can forget about it, if this is like —”

“No,” he shakes his head, looking up at you, his brown eyes reflecting sunlight. You didn’t remember his eyes looking like that. But it was dark and you were drunk.

“It’ll be fine…‘s’alright,” Joel assures, but you’re not sure if he’s talking to you or himself.

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna —”

“I’m sure,” he chuckles. You catch a glint of the guy from last night — who managed to charm his way into your pants in under ten minutes. He surprised you then, and doesn’t fail to surprise you now.

“Sarah likes you, so…” you raise your brows at his words, he continues.

“Been havin’ a tough time findin’ someone she likes, and I have t’work,” he breathes out through stiff lips.

“I understand.”

You find yourself asking more, even though it might not be the best idea. But like you thought last night — this guy is intriguing — and getting a glimpse into his life even if you both weren’t ready for it might not be the worst thing.

“What do you do?” you ask, shy.

“I — uh — I’m a contractor.”

You don’t really know much about contracting so you fall short with a reply.

But he fills the silence.

“I work with my brother. He’s… he lives not too far away. You’ll probably meet him tomorrow,” he says, arms crossing over his chest.

“Sounds good,” you say, crossing your own arms, your thin sweater not doing much to protect you from the morning dew.

Joel looks towards the street and furrows his brow.

“Where do you live?” he asks, blunt.

Your eyes widen in shock.

“Jesus — I —” he shakes his head, his fingers pinching his nose bridge. “I just — you don’t have a car, m’sorry,” he looks out towards the empty street.

“Just…wonderin’ if you needed a ride.”

And so, the gentleman from last night appears just when you thought this might be hopeless.

“Oh car’s back at the house — I walked — I actually live like four blocks over on Anderson,” you jut with your thumb in the direction of your childhood home — your parents are letting you stay there while they’re on vacation for the summer.

“Didn’t know we lived so close,” you note to no one in particular, just speaking aloud.

“You’re in between me ‘n Tommy,” he says, his voice hoarse.

Jesus.

“What?”

“My brother,”

This small talk is getting awkward.

“Oh…right, well — cool. All close together,” you say, pulling a smile even though you feel immensely uncomfortable right now.

“Yeah,” he echoes. “Cool.”

“So I’m gonna…” you nod your head to the direction of your house. It looks like that shakes him out of this trance of tension you both were put in together.

“Yeah, right.”

A goodbye is braced on your lips but you hesitate.

Mr. Miller?

Joel?

Maybe you were better off not calling him anything.

Especially since the last time you were saying the name ‘Joel’ he was asking you to beg for his cock.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” you settle for, stepping off his porch, while looking back at him.

“Yup,” Joel replies, bluntly, “See you tomorrow.”

On your walk over the next morning, you settle into a quiet stroll.

It’s early, the birds are chirping and the dew from the young morning seeps into your skin, making your hair a bit damp and frizzy, but you don’t mind.

You didn’t have much time to look around when you were walking to your interview yesterday.

Honestly, you’ve never taken a good look at your neighborhood, especially this area. Your whole life you’d been driven around by your parents, never stopping to take in the scenery.

Austin is amazing in the summer. You don’t mind the heat, you welcome it — the sun feels good on your back when you walk over.

You see a black pick-up truck pull into Joel’s driveway as you round the corner and make your way down the street.

A man steps out, he’s young — younger than Joel — but you can see the resemblance. You suspect this is the ‘Tommy’ Joel had mentioned yesterday.

You break into a soft jog to greet him before he walks into the house.

“Hey,” you say, somewhat breathless. He stares back at you with a confused look on his face.

“I — uh — I’m Sarah’s new babysitter,” you say while extending your hand.

He takes it, the recognition of your title sinking in — a smile is brought to his face — it lights up the entire area.

“Oh — right. Joel said somethin’ ‘bout the babysitter coming this mornin’,” he shakes your hand, its soft grip squeezes yours once and then lets you go. “I’m Tommy, Sarah’s uncle.”

“Yes — Joel said you guys work together.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” he says, chuckling. You smile back at him.

He looks down and sees your bag slung over your shoulder.

“Let me get that for you,” he says, reaching down to grab the strap of your bag and slipping it off your arm.

“Oh — thanks,” you try to hide your blush as you follow Tommy to the front door.

“No problem,” he mumbles, stepping onto the porch, in a light jog, you follow after.

The door opens before you reach it, a sleepy Joel miller peaks his head out at the noise.

When he sees it's you and Tommy, he straightens out a bit, a questioning look on his brows.

“What’s up man,” Tommy brushes past him into the house, you can see him set your bag down on the couch. “Found your new hire,” he teases from inside, already rushing to the kitchen before you’re able to cross the threshold.

You don’t want to squeeze past like Tommy, so you wait for Joel to invite you in.

“Good morning,” you smile up at him, he towers over you, leaning against the doorframe.

“Mornin’,” he replies.

“I just — ran into him outside the house,” you say shyly.

What are you trying to prove?

He smiles at you, maybe even matching the smile he had on at the bar. The smile you fell for instantly. A puddle at his feet — this time? No exception.

“Just come in,” he chuckles, walking away from the doorframe to let you in.

Sarah squeals from near the couches, running up to you and giving you a big hug. You chuckle while looking at the men in the kitchen.

“Hi.”

“Hey, kiddo,” you smile down at her.

“Can you take me to the library today?”

“Woah, woah slow your roll. I got a lot to show you before we hit the library,” her smile gets bigger if that’s possible. “I even have some special toys I brought just for you in my bag,” you whisper.

She laughs, hanging off your arm, and then trots into the kitchen. You follow her.

“So this is my number,” Joel says when you arrive, putting a piece of paper up on the fridge.

“Oh, I already—”

“Call ‘f you need anythin’.”

Your eyes snap to him when he cuts you off, giving you a knowing look. You blush in favor of arguing, understanding why.

This might be harder than you initially thought. Especially when you’re in his house, and everything smells like him — like that night. And his brother won’t stop looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

You catch Tommy in his staring, he quickly looks back down to his cereal.

“We’ll be back ‘round five,” Joel says, looking over at the calendar hanging on the wall.

“Tuesday, dad,” Sarah chimes in when he squints at the calendar.

“Right. Tuesday,” he sighs, his eyes briefly meeting yours across the kitchen. “Tuesday is Chinese. We’ll pick it up on the way home,” he says, nodding at the information.

“You’re more than welcome to stay for dinner,” Tommy cuts through the tension, smiling at you. Your eyes dart to Joel’s — he has an indifferent look on his face.

You’re not really sure what to say but the entire Miller family looks back at you with the same set of big brown eyes, a couple sets are pleading, one set is scared.

“Oh, okay. Yeah, thanks,” you smile back at Tommy. You hope things will be better by tonight because this is getting weird and you only have olives and a carton of eggs in the fridge back home.

“I’m gonna go load the truck,” Tommy mumbles, still chewing the rest of his breakfast while standing.

“It was very nice to meet you,” he smiles at you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “If you need anything you can always call me, left my number under Joel’s.”

You smile, but gruff words pull you away from Tommy.

“If you need anythin’, call me,” Joel says, emphasizing me.

You wonder if Tommy touched a nerve.

Tommy smiles with a teasing lilt, you thank him as he exits.

“Hang on a sec, Sarah, I’m gonna walk your dad out and then I’ll make you breakfast,” you say, following Joel out.

Tommy’s head is in the backseat of the truck, rummaging through things. You stand in front of Joel on the porch.

“Listen this is like…” you aren’t sure what you think this is, but it’s kinda unbearable.

“Yeah, I know,” he replies gruffly. “It’s — it’s done. Right? We can be professional.”

“Yeah,” you reply, your voice small. “Professional,” you laugh. His bright eyes mirror yours.

“Guess I should call you Mr. Miller, then.”

He sucks in a sharp breath.

“Don’t call me that,” he says, a chaste chuckle braced on his lips.

“Joel,” he whispers. “Just Joel.”

“Okay,” you smile back at him. You can’t help but feel the spark like the night at the bar, when his hands were all over you, and you couldn’t see anyone but him.

“Just Joel.”

He nods and steps down from the porch.

He waves goodbye with two lazy fingers lifting from the wheel as he backs out.

“She’s pretty.”

Tommy’s voice cuts through the tense silence in the truck. An old country song rings through the worn interior. The A/C is blasting, the sun beating down on them through the sunroof.

Joel grunts in response.

“You don’t think so?”

“Think she’s my kid’s babysitter,” Joel mutters while Tommy stifles a laugh. Joel turns down a street, heading towards the onramp for the interstate. They’re meeting with a new client today, big work on the line. Joel can’t be thinking of you.

“So you’re not into her?”

Joel takes a while to respond. Tommy shifts a bit nervously in his seat. But finally — finally — Joel lets out a long sigh and responds. The single word sent Tommy’s way, making him grin—

“Nope.”

“Alright,” Tommy says, content.

It rubs Joel the wrong way.

“‘Alright’ what?”

“I think I’m gonna ask her out.”

When Joel doesn’t respond, Tommy speaks again.

“Do you think she’ll say yes?”

“I don’t know. Known her two seconds” Joel bites back a bit too harshly.

A few tense seconds pass.

Tommy starts again but Joel cuts him off.

“Jesus, can we just —” Joel reaches down to turn the radio up. The music drowns out any conversation on the tip of his tongue — kills anything he might regret saying. He tries to let it go.

Tommy lets it go too.

“Sarah!” you shout from the kitchen.

You look down to the kitchen counter. The sandwich stares back at you. You slather one side with blackberry jam you picked up from the farmers market. The other side with some peanut butter. Crust off, Sarah had pleaded with you yesterday when you picked her up from soccer camp.

You move to cut the crust off.

The front door opens from behind you, you don’t bother turning around, knowing who it is before he greets you—

“Hey, baby,” Tommy rounds the corner and gives you a small hug. You hear the front door shut in his wake. You look down to your fingers, the peanut butter getting a bit messy from the heat in the kitchen.

“Hey,” you reply softly.

It's been a couple weeks since you started taking care of Sarah. You fell into the Miller’s daily routines with ease, eating dinner with them most nights. Tommy and you have grown close. He’s a friend, a confidant. Someone who you can count on no matter what.

He’s good conversation, but an even better listener. You find yourself talking to him most nights on the drive home, and even sometimes after that when you invite him in for coffee and a drink. You can talk about anything and he’ll listen, giving his two cents when necessary, becoming a better friend than you could’ve anticipated.

Anything he had said the first night you invited him in.

You can talk to me about anything.

You had smiled at him. You wanted to talk to him about anything. And you talked to him about most things — but never all.

Because there was always Joel.

“Sarah!” you shout again, checking the clock and seeing it was almost eight. “Get your bag kiddo, I gotta drop you off at soccer by 8:15.”

You hear her small voice let out a muffled coming as you finish packing up her lunch.

“Need a ride?” Tommy asks from behind you.

“I thought you and Joel had to meet with that electrician guy today,” you throw over your shoulder.

“I always got time for you,” he says in a teasing upswing. You just laugh in response, trying to brush it off.

You know Tommy is a flirt. You can see it when you go out with him, girls fawn at his feet because he’s charming. The woman bagging your groceries, the waitress at the diner, the neighborhood mom’s coming over to talk when he washes the truck outside Joel’s house.

You see it all — and you don’t mind when it spills over onto you. It’s just how he is.

“Brought my car today, thanks though,” you nod at him as you pass the kitchen table, putting Sarah’s lunch bag on the counter.

You hear footsteps rounding the corner, hoping it’s Sarah, but as you look up, Joel’s eyes catch yours.

“Dammit,” you mumble.

“G’mornin’ to you too,” Joel says back, sending you a look.

“No — sorry, just —” you brush him off, he joins Tommy at the table. “Sarah!”

“We’re gonna be late,” you mumble to him, he sips on his coffee.

“I’ll give you a ride,” Joel says from his seat, motioning to the truck.

Tommy’s brows raise, waiting for your response.

“Thanks but I brought my car today,” you brush him off.

“Surprised that thing still drives,” Joel grumbles under his breath.

“Shut up, will you?” you say, half teasing, sending him a playful scowl.

“It ain’t safe is all ‘m sayin’, you sh—” he cuts himself off at the look you give him.

Tommy whistles from across the table.

It might look okay. And it might feel okay too. But when you're alone at night and you can’t sleep — you think about Joel. The fleeting glances from the day. The way his hand touched yours when you guys cleaned up dinner.

It wasn’t torture — but it sure felt like something similar.

You don’t miss how Joel scowls a bit when Tommy flirts with you playfully. But things seem to be cordial between them — as cordial as brothers can be.

Sarah skips down the steps, her hair falling out of the pony tail she tried to put up herself.

“C’mere, kiddo, we gotta fix your hair,” you say when she reaches the bottom step, pointing to a chair beside her dad and uncle.

Sarah sits, you brush through her hair with a comb, securing it with an elastic. You can feel both men’s eyes on you.

“All set,” you pat her shoulders, she finishes breakfast, racing to put her shoes on as you grab your keys.

Tommy stands at your exit.

“I’ll walk you out,” he says, taking one last sip of his coffee before putting the dishes in the sink. He meets you in the foyer, you scramble to get your sandals on, Sarah slipping into her cleats as you bend down to tie her laces. Tommy grabs your keys and goes to start your car.

“Bye, Joel,” you yell from the entryway, something deep and gruff rings back from the kitchen.

When you open the door, the soft sunlight hits you. Sarah skips out towards Tommy, he picks her up, throws her up in the air, she laughs and giggles. He lets her settle into the backseat of your car. He opens the door for you, giving you a small hug as you check the time on your phone.

8:10 am.

“See you later, baby.”

“Bye Tommy,” you chuckle at his words, shaking your head as you climb into the driver’s seat.

Honestly, Joel is right.

You’re confused on how this car still drives. It was your mom’s from when she was in college. It sat in your garage, collecting dust until you pleaded with your parents to fix it up for you. Maybe it’s sentimental value or maybe you just can’t afford another car, but you’ve driven it ever since.

It’s never been a problem for you. Not until this moment when you found yourself on the side of the road, two blocks away from where you dropped off Sarah.

Your phone rings in your hand as you hold it up to your ear, leaning against the hood of the car while you look down at the very obviously flat tire.

“Tommy?” you bite quickly when he picks up.

What’s up?

“My tire’s fucked. I need a tow,” you grovel.

Oh shit. Uh — I can’t leave right now, the electrician needs me.

“Fuck,” you huff into the hot air. “Okay, I’ll call Triple A, thanks.”

You’re about to hang up, but a deep voice cuts through the line, Tommy answers it with a tone that you can’t read.

Joel’s comin’.

Your breath hitches.

Text him where you are.

You find yourself nodding even though he can’t see you.

“O-okay. Tell him I said thanks,”

He just left. Listen I gotta —

“Oh – no yeah, sorry. See you later. Thanks.”

Yeah. Bye.

You shoot Joel a quick text, your fingers shaking unexpectedly.

You only wait for about ten minutes before you see the black pick up roll around the corner. He pulls up in front of you, and backs up so the hitch is in line with your car.

Joel gets out, moving to hook everything up.

“Joel, I’m so sorry, I—”

“Hey,” he looks at you, you stare back with wide eyes. You were half expecting him to be mad or annoyed. But you forgot how he is. A gentleman.

“‘S’alright, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart?

From Joel Miller?

But he gives you a pat on the shoulder, motioning for you to help him, unaware he just made you weak at the knees.

You get everything hooked up, he opens the door for you like always.

You get in the truck and are met with a tense silence as he rolls into the middle of the road.

“Don’t say it,” you say, looking over at him, teasingly, waiting for the inevitable, I told you so.

“Wasn’t gonna say anythin’,” he smirks.

“I know you’re thinking it though.”

“I know you are, too.”

“You jinxed me,” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I ain’t jinx nothin’.”

“You so did. This morning, at breakfast,” you say, pointing an accusing finger at him.

“I just said I was surprised it still runs.”

“Yeah and now look what happened.”

He laughs, you both do.

You’re met with silence for a long time. He turns down a couple streets, heading back to his house.

“You called Tommy.”

You suddenly feel like it’s harder to breathe.

“Yeah.”

“I’m always here if you need anythin’...” he says, but trails off, shaking his head.

“I know. I just didn’t want to bother you,” you whisper.

“You’re never a bother,” he says in that drawl. He takes a glance over at you then back to the road.

You gulp.

You watch his hands on the steering wheel. His thick fingers flicker on the settings for the radio, or tap on the top of the wheel when you stop at a red light.

It’s intoxicating.

He’s intoxicating.

But you already knew that.

“You can’t be starin’ at me like that in the house.”

You blush, snapping out of your dream-like haze.

“I — I’m sorry.”

He grunts.

You want to ask him. To talk to him. You want to know if he’s been thinking about you like you’ve been thinking about him. If you crawl into his sleepless nights, his daydreams, his every waking moment like he does to you.

You’re talking before you know any better.

“Can I ask you something?”

His reply is hesitant, but he motions for you to continue. When you find your voice, you manage to squeak out your question before you shut down and die from embarrassment.

“Is this hard for you?”

“‘S what hard? Drivin’?” he teases, you give him a shove but he doesn’t react to your touches.

“You know what I mean.”

“Not sure I do.”

Damn.

Maybe this is all in your head. Maybe when he told you that whatever this might be is over like he did all those weeks ago, he really meant it.

You shut up after that. Not really noticing your new found silence.

But Joel does.

He pulls up to the house, putting the car in park. He hops out first, opening your door, you walk by his side towards the front door.

When you step onto the porch you expect him to unlock the door, but he turns to you, surprisingly breaking the silence.

“Yes,” he says in a gruff voice.

You wait with bated breath for him to continue, until he doesn’t.

“What?”

“It’s hard for me,” he continues, you look at him.

He looks at you — almost with pleading eyes. It looks like he’s pained to say it.

“To see you everyday and not…” he trails off, but you know what he means. The thought sends a tell tale stickiness down in between your thighs.

You nod.

“It was kinda a fucked up coincidence,” you huff a laugh. He hums in agreement.

You stand there with him, the tension building to an all time high.

“Yeah,” he says after a while. “Fucked up.”

“It was —” you bite your tongue. Not sure whether or not to dig up the incident at the bar you both fought so hard to bury. To conceal your relationship from everyone, including yourselves.

“I know,” he agrees.

You look at Joel through your lashes.

He looks handsome.

He’s always handsome, but when he looks at you with a glint in his eyes and the sunlight makes his brown eyes caramel, it's something entirely different.

You take a tentative step forward. He doesn’t move back.

“I’ve missed you,” you say in a hushed whisper.

It’s true. You missed his presence. Most of your time being taken up by Sarah or Tommy. If this whole babysitting thing didn’t happen between you and Joel, you would probably be seeing him at least once a week.

At least.

He huffs out a sigh, taking a half step towards you. He looks at you almost sympathetically. And when his hand comes to angle your chin up towards him, his look becomes more painful.

Maybe this is the part where he kisses you, and everything melts away.

He dips his head down slowly. You keep looking back up to his eyes and down to his approaching lips to gauge whether or not this is a mistake.

Even though you both know it is.

His lips brush yours, you tremble, but his phone ringing in his pocket snaps you out of it.

He looks down, at the screen lighting up with Tommy’s name sprawled across it.

“Hello?” Joel answers.

Joel? Where the hell are you? The electrician —

You stop listening after that, stepping back. Joel mumbles some words on the phone while unlocking the front door and opening it for you, like always.

You give him a small smile and nod for him to go back to his truck.

He gives you a look — later?

You nod your head yes while shutting the door.

Letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you slump onto the couch.

Later he had said with his eyes.

chapter iii. diced

taglist! comment or message me if you want to be added. (for this series, i took the liberty of adding you to the taglist if you commented that you wanted more parts on chaser. you can let me know if you want to be taken off) kisses!

@sofiparallel @jasminedragoon @rainbowcosmicchaos @akah565

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kth1fics · 1 year

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

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