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dracosaurusrex · 4 years

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Bookworms (Draco x Reader)

Summary: Where Y/N and Draco discover that there’s much more to each other than what meets the eye.

Word Count: 11k

Genre: Fluff (slight angst in the beginning); enemies-to-friends-to-lovers ; No Voldy AU

TW: Self-harm but it’s not too much.

A/N: Hi friends! I want to say that I don’t really know where I was going with this, but that would be a lie. So a couple of weeks ago, a friend of mine (we’ll name her @minty-malfoy) posted a tag thread and one of her responses involved her wanting to own a bookshop. It got me thinking of a bookshop romance and ugh YES. With dark academia, how could I not? Fast forward to last week, I ask her for a favor without realizing it was her birthday, and I felt so embarrassed LOL. So, yes, this is your gift my friend. I hope you enjoy it. Keep shining like the light you are!

Besides that, I genuinely hope that if you come across this, you enjoy this big chunggus of a oneshot. I apologize if it’s slow at some parts. I also didn’t proofread the end. I should probably shut up now before I start questioning my writing omll

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Written in pages bound by leather covers are worlds that bring you out of your own. An adventure. An escape. Within that escape sprouts myriads of emotions and thoughts, but what you value the most amongst them all are its gifts of perspective and solace.

Y/N Y/L/N lived the majority of her life with her mother. Her father, who was an auror, passed when she was young, leaving them to surmount the challenges of the world alone. Together, they owned a decent bookshop in Hogsmeade. Its shelves lined the walls, occupying the entire expanse from the floor up to the ceiling. Within them were books of varying genres, filling your senses with the soothing aromas of old parchment, sounds of turning pages, and the feeling of warmth and coziness. To others, this little shop was known as Avenoir Books. However, you knew it as home, your safe space, your comfort zone.

Your mother was the one responsible for introducing you to your love for reading. Growing up, you’d recall the sound of her voice as she read to you--the way that it cradled you with reassurance when times got rough. She always managed to disguise her worries, yet in moments when she thought she was alone, you had witnessed her at her lowest points. It was only within your knowledge that you knew life was difficult, for your mother would shield you from the problems that reality had actually presented to you. She carried the weight of both your worlds on her shoulders, giving you protection by surrounding you with new ones to step into as you sat yourself in the confines of your cozy shop. It was because of her that reading became your refuge, and it remained so when you went away for school at Hogwarts.

Your mother’s resilience fueled your desire to become strong, to become great, to create a new life where you wouldn’t have to see her cry in secret. She was the reason you had been sorted into the Slytherin house in your first year, and she was also the reason why you’d been so successful within your 4 years of schooling by far.

You were a quiet Slytherin, mostly keeping to yourself while observing those around you. The most interesting and exasperating individual of the entire student body was a proud and arrogant boy, Draco Malfoy. He had never picked on you, but there were countless times you had witnessed his relentlessness with others, especially with the Golden Trio. Each and every instance increased your despise for him, furthermore deepening your ardent desire to keep your distance. However, it seemed that the universe had other plans for you today.

Weekdays kept you immersed in bulky textbooks--notes constantly jotted down through endless heaps of parchment. On weekends, however, you swapped your robes for a work apron, helping your mother around the shop. She’d situate herself by the counter and typically manned the ground level, while you’d be propped on a sliding ladder, managing books that sat on shelves higher up. You had a system in Avenoir Books. Customers would typically roam about the main floor, which was occupied by books from famous publishers and authors. However, for books that were more obscure or specialized, customers would head to the counter and gain consultation from your mother. In return, she’d direct them to you, prompting you to slide amongst the shelves in search for the requested titles, genres, or authors.

The store typically had a steady flow of people passing through. You have come across many different personalities and backgrounds throughout your life. Today was quite different, however. The bustling noises slowly died down upon the entrance of a pair of notorious figures, the air suddenly becoming tense. There stood Lucius Malfoy. His chin was pointed up, platinum locks flowing over his shoulders, walking stick in hand, his eyes scanning the shop with a pompous expression on his face. Standing to his side was Draco. He maintained the same look as his father, which soon featured a scowl as it managed to grace his face.

You heard the older man mutter, “Let’s get this over with, Draco.”

The two made their way through the vicinity as gazes were trained on them. Even you stopped what you were doing to observe their actions. Lucius approached your mother, who gave much effort to keep a welcoming smile plastered on her lips.

“Mr. Malfoy, what brings you the pleasure of stopping by?” Her tone was sweet and quite inviting, although it didn’t do much to shift the man’s attitude.

“You have quite the selection here at Avenoir--I’m impressed.” His tone on the other hand was laced with a tinge of venom and arrogance. Lucius' eyes kept trained on the expanses of shelves until they landed on you.

“I assume that’s your daughter, Y/N? Draco’s told me much about her.” You couldn’t decipher whether he meant well, moreover what Draco could’ve possibly said about you to his father. You weren’t aware that the boy even knew of your existence since all you did was keep away from him at all costs.

Your mother responds, “Yes, she’s a fifth year at Hogwarts. I assume your son’s the same?”

“You’re not wrong. Although, that’s not what I’m here for…” As Lucius continues his consultation with your mother, Draco takes the liberty to browse through the various genres of books featured on the ground floor. You don’t move from your position, rather you keep your gaze on him, observing his reactions. He picks up a familiar script. It’s a muggle book entitled, The Memory Police by Yoko Ogawa. You witness him flip through the first couple of pages before focusing in on the first chapter. Slowly, you see the scowl begin to leave his face--the tension between his eyebrows dissipates, his lips release the frown that had situated itself there, and his eyes take on a more solemn and concentrated expression. It contrasted greatly to the image he maintained at school. You realized then that when he wasn’t so obnoxious and loud, Draco was actually quite handsome.

“Draco, drop that filthy muggle book!” You weren’t aware of Lucius approaching until the snake embellishment that topped his walking stick violently landed on the boy’s shoulder. You saw him wince in pain as he dropped the book, rubbing the area to soothe the harsh sensation. Before you could react, your mother calls out to you.

“Y/N, Alchemy, Argo Pyrites.” You broke out from your daze and simply nodded in understanding. The duo now had their eyes on you as you charmed the ladder to take you to the location of the book. You actively scanned the spines for the targeted title, releasing a small “aha” when you find it. Once it’s in your hands, you blow off traces of dust and ensure that the book is in mint condition. It doesn’t take you long to make your way down. As you do so, you approach Lucius and lend the book over. He takes his time to check for any disparities before meeting your gaze once again.

“Y/N is it? Pleasure to meet you.” His tone was anything but kind, but you go along with it, doing your best to maintain courtesy.

“Pleasure’s all mine Mr. Malfoy. It’s very kind of you to stop by.”

“Certainly. Draco, say goodbye to your friend, let’s get going.” Draco looks at you from top to bottom before releasing a smirk. With a quick raise of his eyebrows, he turns around and follows his father out of the shop. You watch their figures disappear into the crowd before making your way to your mother.

“Draco seems like a nice boy, doesn’t he?” You scoff and cross your arms in disagreement.

“Oh please. ‘Nice’ is the last thing he’ll ever be.” She gives you a knowing gaze.

“Did you see how his father hit his shoulder? Even I was shocked. That poor boy never saw it coming.” You recall the pained expression that Draco had on his face. You supposed his parents imposed their pureblood supremacist ideals on the boy’s choice of interests as well.

“It’s not like he doesn’t deserve the pity, mother. You should see him at school. Obnoxious! Rude! Arrogant! He bullies others mercilessly!” You expected her face to contort in disgust and disappointment, but she only gave that familiar motherly smile.

“We can’t always assume the extent of a person’s character based on what they show, darling. Similar to how we should not judge a book by its cover.” She emphasized the last point knowing that you would understand. You could never fight your mother. Despite the difficulty of getting to where you were in life, she always embodied grace and wisdom through it all.

She spoke again, “Did you happen to see the book he was reading?”

“It was The Memory Police.” You couldn’t understand why she asked. She approached the book that Draco had dropped and picked it up. When she returned, she looked at you expectantly.

“You’re going to see him again this Monday, are you not?” You nodded, “I want you to give this to him.” Your eyes widened.

“Mother, I couldn’t possibly-”

“No excuses, Y/N! A kind gesture never hurt anyone.” Her tone softens, and you knew you couldn’t say no.

“The look he had on his face reminded me of you when you were younger. Do you remember?” You only sighed, remembering the relief you felt when you cozied up to a book. She continued, “He seemed more peaceful having a little bit of time to escape don’t you think?” Your shoulders, which were once tense, dropped.

You groaned, “Fine! I’ll do it.” Mother, 1, Y/N, 0.

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Throughout the remainder of the weekend, you thought of ways you could slip the book to the platinum-haired boy without having to actually confront him. You couldn’t understand why your mother wanted to reach out to him so bad. Never in your entire life have you seen her extend that much sympathy to a customer before. Ever! That boy is a git. A rich one at that! Everything was practically given to him on a silver plate. Why would he care so much about a measly book?

These questions roamed through your mind as you packed your school bag the following Monday morning. The book was settled on top of your desk, staring and waiting for you to pick it up. With dread, you reluctantly take it and place it into your bag. With one last look in the mirror, you grab your things and make your way to the Great Hall for breakfast. As you enter the massive room, you take a seat by yourself in the Slytherin table. You took a glance to find a familiar blonde mop of hair. All of his friends were there in their usual spot with him being the only one absent, which was weird because he never skipped breakfast. Wanting to get your mom’s task over with, you approach the group. They were chattering amongst themselves, not noticing your presence.

You cleared your throat, grabbing their attention, “Um, hey. Do you happen to know where Malfoy is?” They only looked at you in awe.

“The famous Y/N actually speaks? Didn’t think I’d ever hear a word come out of you.” The girl, Pansy, pointed out. You rolled your eyes.

Another girl, Daphne, kicked the prior’s ankle, eliciting a loud yelp from her. She spoke out, “I’m sorry Y/N. He said he’s not feeling too well, so he’s cooped up in the dorm.” You appreciated the softness of her voice in contrast to Pansy’s strong tone.

“Why do you ask? You never talk to him.” It was Blaise’s turn to chime in.

“I have some business with him.” You stood there, feeling the awkwardness creeping up. Your fingers were twirling the ends of your hair and you casted your gaze elsewhere. They just stared at you, still comprehending the sound of your voice.

“Well?” You asked.

“Ah, yes. He’s in dorm 7.” You nodded your head in appreciation and turned around to leave. You had about an hour before class, giving you ample time to make the delivery and go about with your day. At least that was what you thought.

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Once you enter the Slytherin common room, you make a turn towards the boys’ dormitories. As you take the stairs leading to it, you’re met with a corridor that takes a close resemblance to the girls’. Doors were lined on either side with numbers used to differentiate them--Draco’s room was located all the way down the hall. Oddly enough, the closer you approached it, the more nervous you felt. You never imagined yourself stepping into this part of the dungeons, moreover doing so to drop something off for a boy you despised. You yelled at your mom internally for putting you through this.

The distance between you and the door kept shrinking, and as you drew closer, you began to feel strange. Something was off. The uncertainty looming in the air grew thicker until you finally found yourself standing in front of the room. Before knocking, you press your ear against the entrance. There was complete silence. You also notice that the door was not closed all the way. The animosity you felt towards the boy was gradually replaced with worry and concern.

“Malfoy? Are you in there?” You ask hesitantly. There was no response.

“Draco?” You press your ear further into the door in hopes to pick up any sign of his presence. When you received none, you pushed forward, entering the room with caution. You were met with the sight of a half-made bed, Draco’s robes and uniform laid out on top. His desk still had books turned to different pages, accompanied with an open ink bottle and quill left upon pieces of parchment. All these things, yet still no signs of the Malfoy heir. You stood in your place for a moment, trying to concentrate on his whereabouts. However, your thoughts were interrupted by the subtle sounds of sniffles. Your eyes widened as your focus redirected to locating its source. It was then that you noticed another door leading to what you believed was the bathroom. The noises became more prominent as you walked towards it. You felt nervous and uncertain about what you were going to find. As you wrap your hand around the knob to open it, your eyes widened at the sight of the boy grabbing his wrist, which was dripping with blood. On his side was a razor blade.

You gasped as his eyes met yours, your heart breaking in the process. In front of you wasn’t the same bully everyone knew. No. In front of you laid a half-naked Draco whose eyes were filled with what seemed to be hopelessness, defeat, and fright. Tear stains stroke his cheeks, his eyebrows furrowed with pain. His hair stuck to his forehead as sweat accompanied his tears. The hand gripping his wrist was stained with blood, its pressure only forcing the flow to increase.

“Draco!” You didn’t know what overcame you in that instance. You frantically threw your bag off your shoulders and proceeded to kneel next to him, taking in his wounded arm. The boy retaliated.

“What do you think you’re doing!?” His voice was defensive and strained, but it didn’t faze you.

“I’m trying to save your sorry arse! Look at how much blood you’re losing. Merlin!” You returned a gaze that matched the intensity of his. The concern in your own tone heightened as you dug into the pockets of your robes in search of your wand.

“I don’t want to be saved! Don’t you get it? Leave me alone!” He wriggled in your grasp, only inducing you to tighten the grip you had on him. He gasped at the stinging sensation, tears streaming down his face. Tears began to fill the brim of your eyes.

“Stop spewing nonsense, Malfoy! I can’t leave you and I won’t!” The pained expression on your face caught his gaze. Tears had already spilled over. “Please, Draco. Let me heal you.” The boy stopped his protests upon hearing the desperation that was laced in your voice. You used the back of your hand that was gripping your wand to wipe the tears off of your face. After calming yourself down, you hover your hand over his gashes to perform the healing spell, a serious expression now spreading across your face.

“Vulnera sanentur.” His blood begins to retract back to its origin, the rate of its flow slowing down.

“Vulnera sanentur.” Your wand continues to trace Draco’s wounds. The traces of residue begin to disappear. Draco looks at your concentrated face and then turns his gaze back onto his wrists.

You perform the incantation for a final time, “Vulnera sanentur.” The cuts disappear completely and you let out a sigh of relief. You cast a look at Draco’s stunned face before scanning his shirtless torso. It was also filled with scars that were most likely left to heal on their own. The frown on your face grows as a rush of thoughts suddenly occupy your mind. How long has he been doing this to have this many cuts and scars? Draco, behind his arrogant mask, was alone. You didn’t need him to vocalize that fact for you. It was written across his face. The expression glossed over his eyes longed for the company that he never truly had.

In that instant, you knew your mother was right. You really can’t assume the extent of a person’s character based on what they showed.

“Would it be okay if I took care of you for a bit? I don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone like this.” Your voice was soft as you released small hiccups signalling the end of your crying. Draco, who has no energy to object, simply nods. Your thoughts drift to your mother and how she was strong enough to carry both your burdens. As you recalled the love she gave you, the sour feelings that you had towards the boy faded. At that moment your only task of importance was to clean him up.

It was silent the entire time. You picked Draco up and propped him up onto a stool. He did nothing but keep his gaze on you as you walked to and fro in the bathroom. You took a face towel that was hanging on the side of the sink and wet it with cold water. You then wring the towel of excess water and wiped his face. The streaks that the tears made disappeared. You proceeded to his forehead, getting rid of the sweat and pushing his bangs upwards. You then began to wipe his neck, making sure that there was a comfortable distance between you two.

“Chin up.” You demanded. He obeyed, and you wiped over the expanse between both jaws, his throat, and down to his collar bones. You yelled at yourself mentally to focus on the action instead of the curves and crevices outlined by his skin. Luckily, you were able to keep a straight face, making no sign of being flustered whatsoever. You step back to wet the towel again before proceeding to wiping his shoulders. At this point, you began feeling warmth spreading across your face. Draco let out a small laugh.

“Like what you see?” He asks with a broken voice. You snickered at the way he managed to be funny at a time like this.

“I’m only being nice, Malfoy. Don’t let your head get big. Not that it hasn’t already.” You say, giving a coy smile. You gulp discretely as you make your way down his chest. His eyes never leave you. You purposefully wipe that area much faster to prevent you from blushing even more. Once you get to his wrists, you rub circles on the area where the cuts used to be before running the towel over it and to his hands.

“How do you feel?” You ask.

“Better.”

“Good. Cup your hands for me please.” He follows your instruction once again. “Aguamenti.” A stream of water flows from the tip of your wand and into his palms.

“Drink up.” He remains obedient. Once he finishes, you pour in water once again, having him repeat the act. You feel at ease as he gulps the water down. His body still looks limp, and his face still gaunt, but it was a huge improvement considering the state he was in when you walked in.

Your gaze settles on the floor and the stray blade, both covered in dried blood. “Tergeo.” You mutter, cleaning up the mess.

You point your wand to the blade, “Evanesco.” It disappears in an instant. You turn back to Draco. You wrap your arm around his torso and bring him close to you to help him maintain his balance as you step out of the bathroom.

“Where do you keep your sleepwear?” You ask. He points to the cabinet, and you go forth to take out a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. You hand him the articles of clothing and turn around to leave him to change.

He laughs, “You’re silly you know? You’ve already seen me half-naked, yet you turn around.” You only shrug and chuckle before turning around to meet his gaze. He leans on the side of the bed, arms crossed.

“I have yet to ask, Y/N. What brought you here in the first place?” You were so absorbed in healing and cleaning Draco that your initial purpose for coming over flew past your mind.

“Oh yes,” You pick up your bag that laid on the floor, and rummaged through it before pulling out his copy of The Memory Police.

“Mother saw how peaceful you looked when reading this book at the shop. She heavily insisted that I bring it to you, saying that you can use an escape too.” You lean on the space beside him as you hand him the book. His eyes widened as he cautiously took the book out of your hands, as if his father would appear right this instant. He scanned the cover, and flipped through the pages, his eyes glossed with disbelief. The sight of him like this made you imagine how much of his life had been kept in a cage. Wealth did not serve as a basis for happiness. You could only guess how much expectations were held for the Malfoy heir.

“My father would object to me having this.” You nodded in understanding, rubbing his shoulder to comfort him. He looks up at you.

“I won’t push you to tell me the reasons why you decided to harm yourself, but I’m certain that you need a break from whatever bothered you in the first place. Please, keep it. My mother will nag me without end if I don't deliver it.” He smiles.

“Thank you. I mean it.” Your jaw dropped. He rolled his eyes.

“Draco Malfoy actually knows how to say ‘thank you’.” You say, mocking a look of disbelief. He scoffed and his scowl reappeared in an instant.

You raised your arms in defense, “What? You can’t blame me.” You both share a laugh before silence overtakes you once again. Your head faced downward, and you kept your sights on your shoes.

“Thank you for letting me take care of you. It frightened me to see you like that.” You fumbled with your fingers.

“It’s a miracle that you came, Y/N. I don’t think I’d be able to stop myself if you hadn’t yourself.” You smiled. You were appalled with the fact that there was a soft side to the boy. You looked at him, remembering the comfort that you found in your mother’s love through books. In that moment, an idea sprung forth in your mind.

“Ever since I was young, it was only me and my mother. Father passed when I was 2, and we were left alone to face the world.” You looked at him to find that his attention was on you. You continued, “There were plenty of times I felt hopeless and scared, but it was the comfort of her voice that washed that feeling away. She’d stay by my side at night to read me books, and she always managed to take me to worlds that detached me from the reality that we lived in. She told me that Avenoir, besides it being a bookstore, was established to become my safe space, my comfort zone, my refuge, if you will. She’s why I love reading.” You took Draco’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

“And I want to extend that to you. Please feel free to come by whenever okay? We’ve never been that close, and you have been pretty gittish, but no one deserves to feel alone.” You gave the boy a reassuring smile.

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Draco gazed at his hand, which was still squeezed in yours. He then shifted his view back to the smile on your face. Y/N Y/L/N, the most reserved and studious Slytherin in their year, surely had a lot to say, but it was surprisingly the most relief he has felt in a long while, if ever. She gave his shoulder a little squeeze before picking up her belongings from the floor. Before she left his dorm she faced him once more.

“Will you be okay on your own?” She asks. Draco nods and gives his signature eyebrow raise. She chuckles.

“If you need anything, I’ll be in my dorm. I don’t plan on going to class today.” As he watches her leave, he notices the warmth that spreads over his chest. He brushes it off before flopping on his bed and immersing himself into the world of the Memory Police. For once in his life, he manages to escape the burdens of his family name. He escapes the burdensome fear of being considered a let-down to his parents. He escapes the rabbit hole of expectations, worries, pressures--the need to be “perfect” Draco. He finds an escape from the reputation that he upholds through you. Furthermore, he finds himself desiring more of your company. Because of this, he moves from his bed, with his book in hand, and strides into the girls’ dormitories. He never got her room number, but when he sees an open door, he automatically assumes that it’s her inside. Without thinking, he barges at the sight of her stunned face.

“Draco? What’s the matter?” The boy takes a good look at Y/N’s space. Her bed is made neatly and is stationed against the farmost wall in front of a large window. Her table is positioned at the end of her bed. There were a number of small bookcases that cover a majority of the perimeter of the room. It’s cozy.

He takes a moment to compose himself. “Is it alright if I can stay with you? Just a little longer?” The girl gives him a confused look, but agrees nevertheless.

“Sure, close the door.” He does as she says, and looks around. Her dorm truly reflected her personality. Her words break him out of his daze.

“You can sit on the bed if you’d like.” As he gets himself situated, he observes her. Y/N was known for her hardworking nature, and mostly stayed away from socialization because of it. In that regard, she never really had much to say unless she was answering a question during lectures. She doesn’t say much once he’s situated. Instead, she quietly turns back to her desk to focus on her note taking, actively highlighting important bits of information from her books. Draco was amazed to say the least.

“Y/N, why is it that you study so much?” He asks. Her gaze remains rooted to her work as she finished writing up the last sentence before gazing up at him. She grins.

“I’m working hard, so I can earn enough to give my mother a better life.” She says simply.

“Is the life you have right now not enough?” He doesn’t mean to come off as ignorant or insensitive, but he asks out of pure curiosity. Y/N only rubs her chin to think of a proper response.

“Don’t get me wrong, we’re both happy. I just suppose it would be nice to know that she wouldn’t have to worry about her resources. Life was always uncertain before opening Avenoir. I remember how she would hide away to cry so I wouldn’t see her tears. I felt helpless and I couldn’t do anything about it. I hate being weak because of that.” Draco simply gawked at her. The availability of resources has never been an issue for him; it felt like a slap on the face seeing how hard Y/N worked for that level of accessibility.

“I feel like a lot of people have been gawking at me today. Stop it.” You chuckled as you scratched the back of your neck, recalling the reactions of his friend group as you held a conversation with them.

“You’re surely something else, Y/L/N. That’s all.” Y/N only smiled as she removed herself from her desk. She pulled a random book from one of her shelves and sat herself next to Draco. Together they get lost within their own worlds.

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There was a mutual feeling of friendship that emerged between you and Draco. However, the both of you never bothered to make it obvious in the presence of others. Actions so far were limited to discrete nods towards each other in the hallways. Nevertheless, you were content. You didn’t see him constantly, but you heard people talk about him and how he hasn’t been teasing or picking fights with students as much as he did in the week prior. It was a change you were surprised with, but one that you were pleased to hear about regardless. Besides that, you still kept yourself to your own tasks throughout the remainder of the week. It was a set cycle, which involved going to lecture and studying within the confines of your room. Although, you had to admit that you enjoyed the blonde’s presence, and secretly wished that you’d spend more time together.

The weekend arrived, which meant you’d resume your work at the bookshop. The day flew by fast. Customers came bustling in by the hour that you never had much time to talk to your mother while you were working. As you waited for demands to trickle in, you occupied yourself with another book, The Happy Prince by Oscar Wilde. It was a pleasant book about selflessness, however you found your mind drifting off often. When you weren’t reading, you kept your eyes peeled for the entrance, hoping that a certain boy would come in. However, no sign of the Malfoy heir showed as hours passed. Your hopes soon depleted. Giving up on the chances of him coming, you resumed your reading.

It must’ve been about 20 minutes after 3 o’clock when your mother calls you from the counter. You heeded her request and made your way down the ladder. Behind her are large boxes filled with new books that were to be stored on the higher shelves. As you drag them to the base of the ladder, your back bumps into something hard.

“I’m so sorry! Are you al-” As you turn to identify the person you collided with, your eyes widened at the sight of Draco. Your heart skips a beat as you scan his appearance. He sported a black turtleneck that fitted securely around his torso, which was paired with dark plaid pants, and black leather chelsea boots. Rings adorned his fingers, and his platinum locks are slightly disheveled from the wind. He looked delicious rather expensive.

Draco was just as shocked when he realizes that it’s you he bumps into. You weren’t wearing anything fancy as he was--just a simple white shirt, straight jeans that ended just above your ankles, faded white sneakers, which was all adorned by the work apron that wrapped around your waist. Your hair was tied into a loose bun that settled at the nape of your neck with some stray strands framed around your face. It contrasted to your typical appearance at school. He preferred you in casual wear much more than in uniform, but he wasn’t going to admit that.

You straighten your posture, “Hey! What brings you here?” The boy in front of you rubs the back of his neck bashfully.

“I just wanted to spend time here. You offered on Monday.” His timidness made you smile.

“You’re definitely welcome to stay-” You were interrupted by your mother’s gleeful shout.

“Draco! It’s so nice to see you! Please do make yourself comfortable. I assume Y/N delivered the book safely?” You rolled your eyes and let out a groan.

“Yes, mother. I did.” She only laughs in response. “I extended an offer to have him hang around if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all! Would you like some tea, dear?” The warm welcome fills the boy’s heart.

He gives a polite nod, “That would be lovely, thank you.” He looks to you with amusement plastering his facial features.

“Would you like some help?” The smile that you give to him in response makes his heart flutter.

“I’ll be okay. Like what mother said, please make yourself comfortable.” You reassured him, before urging him to follow you to the back of the shop. Past the counter is a corridor that leads to a small outdoor patio. Fairy lights are strung on the edges of the fence that borders the space, and a table for two is set near the entrance that goes back into the store. As the sun begins to set, the small set up becomes even more charming.

“It’s not much, but this is us.” Your arms spread as you step towards the center of the patio. Draco looks around and then back at you.

“It’s lovely.” He states with a happy grin stretched across his lips. The space doesn’t hold the same grandeur as his manor, but within the small and cozy confines, he feels safe and content.

“I’m glad to hear that. Take a seat! I still have work to do, but I’ll be clocking out soon. Stay as long as you’d like!” The joy in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed. It’s quite difficult to suppress the emotions after the anticipation that has built up throughout the day. With your spirits lifted, you return to work. The load of the boxes don’t seem as heavy as they used to.

Draco sits around in silence for a bit with his hands clasped together. The thought of being within your personal space makes his knees bounce up and down as he waits for his tea. Wanting to release his nerves, he explores the compound a bit more. He steps into the corridor, taking notice of the way it’s decorated. Pictures of you and your mother grace the walls. The sight urges him to look out in the front of the shop. He catches you piling books in your arms before making your way up the ladder. In doing so, he takes note of your focused face, the furrowing of your eyebrows, and the slight parting of your lips. Your eyes blazed in determination, sparking that particular warmth in his chest again. Draco tore his gaze from you and redirected it to the photos mounted on the wall. One that caught his interest was of you on your mothers back. Your small arms were wrapped tightly around her shoulders as your small face peered over her with a small toothy grin. He notices the light in your eyes. It had remained the same ever since. He stares at the photos for a couple of minutes.

“You found our pictures!” Your mother comes up from behind him, startling him slightly. She responds to his reaction with a hearty chuckle as she worms her way through the corridor, Draco following closely behind her. They sit across from each other, and the boy watches her as she sets a cup before him. She takes the tea pot and pours the liquid carefully.

“How do you like your tea, dear?” She asks.

“Slight cream, no sugar, Mrs. Y/L/N” Your mother looks at the boy. His shoulders are stiff and he’s tense all over. His hands look clammy. Basically, Draco looks nervous.

“I don’t bite. Don’t worry, love. Relax.” She gives the boy’s hand a reassuring squeeze. It was much similar to the feel of yours. He relaxes a little bit, adding cream to his drink.

“Y/N speaks very highly of you.” He states a matter-of-factly.

“Is that so?” A smile appears, “How’s my daughter at school?”

“She’s a really hard worker. Everyone knows her for her intelligence, but she is rather quiet. Much different than the way she acts here. She is so vibrant.”

Draco takes notice of the surprised look in your mother’s eyes, “Oh my dear, if I’m being truthful to you, it’s been so long since I’ve last seen her vibrant side shine through. She’s more demure in character. It’s not common for her to act that way.” Draco didn’t completely understand why, but hearing those words made his heart skip beats. He didn’t respond for a bit, allowing her words to sink in. Out of nowhere, Y/N calls out to her mother signalling the completion of her task. Her head pops from the door frame, and she glances at the tea briefly before shifting her view to the boy.

“Y/N! Why don’t you give Draco some company and have some tea? You can go to your room after!” You cough, but merely nodded in response. You seat yourself in the chair that was once occupied.

“How’s work?” Draco asks. He takes the kettle and pours you a cup.

“Busy as always, but it’s a pleasure to be here.” You thank him for the tea and proceed to adding your preferred amounts of cream and sugar.

“You look handsome today, by the way.” You took a sip of your tea so you wouldn't see his reaction. The boy only beamed.

“You look pretty too, if I’m being honest.” You chuckle as you set down your cup.

“You’re telling me that when I’m dressed in a t-shirt and some ragged jeans?” You didn’t really know what kind of answer to expect. For the most part, you felt average in your get up. He, on the other hand, looked like a model.

“Yes I am. You are pretty.” You only smile at your feet and thank him. The boy was charming without the pompous get up. Ever since that Monday morning, you began to develop appreciation for this genuine side that he showed you.

As time passed, your mother closed up the shop. Both you and Draco offered to help her, but she denied almost immediately. Instead, she insisted that you take the boy up, causing you to palm your face in embarrassment. However, you eventually agree and lead the way. Within the corridor were stairs that led to a second level. You and Draco climb them and turn to the first door on your right. Your room was slightly bigger than the one at school. It was furnished in a fashion that was similar to your dorm, but there were a lot more books--this time stacks of them could be seen littering the floor.

“Did you bring your book?” He nodded and fished it out from his back pocket.

He briefly scans the room, “Did you read all of these?” You nod with an embarrassed smile.

“I bet you’d love the library in the manor.” Your eyes widened at the sound of it. A tinge of excitement sprouted from your gut as you begin to imagine its vastness.

“I don’t think you’re wrong. I bet it’s quite the sight!” Delight could be heard from your voice. Draco only tries to suppress a smile.

“Maybe one day.” He mutters to himself, hoping that you didn’t hear. However, when he looks up, he’s met with your wide smile. He blushes immediately and curses under his breath.

“You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll pretend I didn’t.” You wink at him, and pull out your book. You flopped on your bed, patting the space next to you. When he situates himself by your side, you begin to pick up where you left off, already pushing the outside world aside. Draco sits with his legs crossed, and copies your actions. Silence fills the both of you as an hour passes. However, he’d take opportunities to sneak small glances at you once in a while. Your focus on the pages never shifted. If anything, the furrowing of your brows deepen as you turn with every page. With his curiosity getting the best of him, he leans closer to you to see what was so interesting. His actions don’t go by unnoticed, though. As soon as you felt his knee come into contact with yours, you realize how close he has gotten since you started reading.

“May I help you, Malfoy?” You ask, slightly amused.

“What’s your book about?” He asks. You tense your brows as you come up with an answer, not wanting to spoil anything.

“It’s about the friendship between a statue of a very selfless prince and a swallow. What about yours?”

“I’d never thought I would like fiction, but I do like this one. It’s about a girl who protects a person who can remember.”

“Remembers?”You ask with genuine curiosity. Draco nods, his eyes expressing the interest he has for the novel.

“Things on the island vanish, and the majority of the people have no recollection of it after it disappears. The people who show any signs of remembering get taken away.” Your interest for the plot increases

“That sounds very interesting. Do you think we can trade when we finish?”

“I think it sounds like a plan.” You stare into each other’s eyes for a moment before a snapping noise is heard. Suddenly your hair loosens, and you realize that the rubber band holding your hair together gave out. Draco looked at you with an eyebrow raised. As you reach to pull the remnants of the tie away, your hair frees itself. Some strands framed your face, while the rest flowed over your shoulders and covered the expanse of your back. You run your fingers through the front and they fall into curtain-like waves. Draco on the other hand is taken aback at your sudden change of appearance. Prior to getting to know who you were, nothing much was thought of you with the exception of your brains. Besides that, you were rather plain looking, always having your hair up in a braid or a ponytail.

It was a seemingly natural reaction to let your hair simply flow. You really didn’t think much of it. But, when you met Draco’s surprised look, it was your turn to raise a brow at him. He really didn’t know what overtook him, or why these particular words fell out without thinking, but both hearts were racing and ears turned warm after he spoke out.

“Merlin, Y/N. You’re bloody gorgeous.” It caught him off guard. Your expression was the only thing that made him come to terms with the reality of it.

“I- You- You weren’t supposed to-”

“Thank you.” Draco’s jitters stopped in an instant when he saw the way you smiled up at him. Noticing the silence that settles in, you quickly think of something to break it.

“Should I wear it down at school? I’ve been thinking about it. It’s time for a ch-” You were startled by how quick his response was.

“No! Absolutely not!” He speaks frantically.

“-ange. Okay, then. Sheesh.” You both just laugh at his sudden outburst. Draco’s, however, was a nervous one.

After a couple more minutes of reading, a savory aroma fills your senses, and your mother calls out to you both for dinner. The food was pleasant, but it was the actual state of togetherness that lit Draco’s heart. Although the warm feeling of you and your mother’s company was foreign to him, he was glad to have been able to experience it. The entirety of his stay lifts a huge weight off of his shoulders. Moreover, he begins to acknowledge the budding emotions that he feels for you. He felt each beat of his heart more profoundly within the small moments that you shared, with every glance that he took, and with every laugh that spilled from your lips.

You stare up at the clock, taking note of the time. It was already 7:30 PM. Curfew was at 9:00 for fifth years.

“Mother, I think it’s time that we get going. I’ll see you next week.” You notify her of your departure as you help clear out the table.

“Oh, it’s that time of the day already? Very well then. I’m so glad you stopped by today, Draco. You’re welcome here anytime. Let me see the both of you out.” After you give her a hug, you make your way to the main room of the store. Draco thought you were going to exit, and was brought to confusion when you suddenly stopped in your tracks.

Draco clears his throat, “So, do you know how exactly we’ll get back?” It was already late and the boats that transported students to and from Hogsmeade were closed for the day.

“Are you a fan of portkeys?” You ask. Draco’s eyes widened.

“Have you created an illegal one?” When you don't answer, he just laughs. You rummage through your bag, picking out a random book. When you open it, there’s a postcard with a picture of Hogsmeade on the front.

“It’s a touch-activated one. It goes straight into my dorm.” You look up at him to see a devious-looking smirk plastered on his lips.

“You really are something else.” He whispers. You roll your eyes and shake your head.

“Let’s touch it on the count of three, okay? 1...2...3.” At the touch of the object, Draco felt his body get sucked into a bind, lights flashing, and your surroundings blacking out until it wasn’t. He kept his eyes shut the whole time. The entire instance occurred for a second. When you arrived at your destination, you felt fine, having gotten used to the uncomfortable sensation resulting from the mode of transportation. The boy who isn’t as experienced, however, didn’t find himself so lucky, and opted to lay down on your bed for a moment, closing his eyes to regain his strength. As you gave him time to rest, you took the opportunity to change into something more comfortable, taking advantage of the fact that he wouldn’t be aware of you doing so.

When he opened his eyes, he was surrounded by the familiar confines of your dorm. They roamed around until stopping at your changing figure. You had slipped on a jumper, which was paired with loose fitting sweats, the waistband wrapping securely on your hips. The only source of light was that of the moon as it radiated through your window and onto your bedroom floor. It casted a surreal glow upon your features, and Draco couldn’t help but stare.

“Would you like some water? I know the experience could be unpleasant.” Your voice was soft and was followed by the sound of your melodic giggle.

“Y/N, you’re mental if you tell me you do that every week.” He says astoundedly. You nod with a grin and shrug your shoulders as you passed him a cup of water. He takes it gratefully and gulps it down as you sit on the edge of your bed.

“You should probably get back to your dorm soon and take some rest. Do you need any help?” He shakes his head, but is betrayed by his body as he stumbles out of your bed. With quick reflexes, you hold him steady, allowing him to regain his balance quickly.

“Are you sure?” You ask doubtedly. He reassures you by straightening his posture and flashing a smile. You return it as you walk him to the door. He stands in the hallway, facing you as you lean against your door frame. You rushedly look left and right to ensure no one was looking before shifting your attention back to him.

“It was nice having you today. Mother was really happy you came by.”

“How about you?” The boy catches your gaze once more. You only looked at him with a raised brow, queuing the need for clarification.

“How do you feel about my company?” What he asked caught you off guard, but you couldn’t deny the joy that you felt being around him. The comfort you felt from reading alone didn’t compare to the calm silence that situated you both when you did it together. It was the simple yet overwhelming feeling of contentment--the feeling of someone entering your heart silently, gently, and with a rush all at the same time. Pure bliss was what it was, but you couldn’t formulate the words when he asked you. The boy smirked at your lack of response. Instead, he bent over to meet your eye level and leaned in. You held your breath within your throat as he drew closer, ultimately shutting your eyes in anticipation for who knows what. Draco noticed the slight change in your body language and softened the look in his eyes. His orbs, which were once filled with amusement, were now filled with adoration. He looked at your expression, before reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You opened your eyes, meeting his gentle gaze. Shocked, Draco backed away, shoving his hands into his pockets.

He stammered, “Y-You had something on your ear.” A flush had spread over his cheeks.

“Oh, is that so? Were you able to remove it?” You ran your fingers through your hair, oblivious of his frantic behavior. In your mind, you only wish it could’ve been more.

“Y-yea!” A nervous laugh leaves his lips. After he recollects himself for a few more seconds he says, “We should do this again sometime.” To which you happily agree.

You both bid each other ‘goodnight’. As you close the door, you lean your back against the wall, and slide down to the floor. You took note of the way your heart began to race when you recalled the events of today. The sound of his laughs, his subtle attempts to get close to you, his expression of interest towards the things that you treasured. Your image of Draco had begun to transform right under your nose.

Little did you know that as the boy walked back to his dorm room that night, the same thoughts ran through his mind. Although he was tired, he would constantly think about the way you looked when you were working, or when you were reading, or how your hair came undone. Moreover, he felt safe within your hospitality--it wasn’t forceful or intrusive, it just flowed naturally. This small escape made a huge improvement from the broken state you found him in that Monday prior. That night, as he laid in bed, he read his book peacefully until sleep took over his consciousness, filling his rest with dreams of reading with you by his side.

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

It was a brisk Sunday morning when you found yourself at the Great Hall for breakfast. You were always one of the earlier students who came right when the doors opened. By the time you got yourself situated, only a few students trickled their way into the massive room.

Your hand took hold of your book as the other filled your mouth with food. Your concentration blazed as you immersed yourself into the world of the Oscar Wilde that you didn’t realize how filled the hall became once you put your book down. The reason for you doing so stemmed from the sound of a presence that sat before you. You never had company when you ate, so when you looked up you were surprised to see Draco settling in the seat in front of you. Murmurs from other students could be heard at the peculiar sight.

“This seat isn’t taken I presume?” He asks. The typical Malfoy smirk graces his lips as he lowers himself down.

“Not at all.” You respond simply. You look around with a weirded expression. People had their eyes on the two of you. One in particular caught your attention. It was Astoria Greengrass, also dubbed as the Slytherin princess. She had an annoyed look on her face, but you brushed it off, turning back to the boy in front of you.

“Aren’t your friends waiting for you?” You nodded towards the familiar group of people.

“I can’t read around them. They’re too loud.” Once the statement leaves his lips, he pulls out The Memory Police and finds himself in the same stature you were in previously. You smile inwardly before taking a few bites of your food. It’s silent and you can still feel the lingering stares around you. They begin to get annoying after a while.

“Leave them be. They can stare all they want, but I’m not moving anywhere.” He says as though he read your mind. He glances at you from the top of his book, but his tone remains unfazed.

“How’d you know?” You inquire.

“You have ‘uncomfy’ written all over your face, Y/N.” He keeps his gaze stuck to his book while stuffing a piece of scrambled egg into his mouth. You narrow your eyes at him before slowly opening your own again.

“What are you planning to do today?” He asks suddenly. You look up to see that his eyes never left the page. Your look at your own, except you’re not reading this time.

“Probably read at the lake, go to my dorm and read some more.”

“Do you do anything else besides read?”

“I study.” You could feel his eyes roll.

“Besides that.” You lower your hands seeing that you aren’t getting anywhere with the plot.

“What else is there to do on Sundays?” You laugh, “Well what do you plan on doing today?”

Your conversation gets interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. There stands Astoria Greengrass, arms crossed with an envious expression on her face. She looks at you then to Draco.

“Hey Dray. I just wanted to know if you wanted to hang out with me at Hogsmeade today?” She asks with a sickly flirtatious tone. She squeezes his shoulder while you just roll your eyes and look away to mentally gag.

“You must be blind to notice. I’m preoccupied if you can’t tell.” The sound of his tone is cold, much akin to the one he uses when he’s bullying someone. However, a smirk sneaks up to your lips as you keep your gaze lowered. The girl only scoffs before turning to you.

“Cute little book you got there Y/L/N. You always have your nose buried in one, don’t you? What’s that one about this time?” You take note of her condescending voice, which slightly pulls on your nerves.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Greengrass? Sorry love, I’m too preoccupied to explain.” You wiggle your book at her before getting up. You throw the boy your version of his eyebrow raise before turning to leave.

“I’ll see you around ‘Dray’.” You say, imitating Astoria’s tone. You looked at her from head to toe and scoffed as you walked out of the hall. You couldn’t be bothered to deal with the likes of her. For the most part, giving her any piece of your energy was not worth it. You find yourself walking down the corridor before hearing the sound of someone running to you. You stop in your tracks and turn around to see the familiar platinum-haired boy.

“You need some company at the lake?” He asks. Your face, which was once filled with annoyance, releases its tension, and transforms into a gentle smile.

“I don’t need it, but you’re free to come along if you’d like to.” You turn your back quickly before getting a response out of him. He follows you.

Throughout the walk, Draco notices that your hair is up in a braid again, smiling as he reminisces the sequence of events that occurred the night prior. Could you have kept it up because he said so? Such thoughts filled his mind with interest. The events that happened in the hall also made him wonder. He had never seen you agitated before.

“I never thought you’d respond like that.” He says to start up conversation.

“To Astoria?” He nods.

“Not worth my time or energy. I may be quiet, but I’m not a pushover...Dray.” You tease him with the nickname, although he doesn’t mind it when it comes from you.

“It sounds better when you say it.” He says, making you shake your head in response.

“I was about to choke myself. Merlin, did you hear the way she said it? It’s enough to make your ears bleed. Bloody hell.” The way you release your frustration gives the both of you something to laugh about. That familiar feeling of comfort overcoming you both once again.

“Do you think she’s going to approach me again?” You ask.

“Knowing her, she might.”

“Merlin, avada me now.” Draco only laughs louder at the sound of your displeasure. By the time you reach the lake, the sun is seen casting its rays upon the water. Clouds are still in the sky, but the overall scene is bright and beautiful, assuring that it was going to be a good day.

You sit on a patch of grass that meets the sand, while Draco assumes the seat beside you. Before you could even begin to read, the boy takes the opportunity to ask you another question.

“How far are you from finishing your book?”

“I’m almost done. Give me a few minutes and I should be finished.” His eyes widened slightly

“Fast reader aren’t you?”

“No, well, maybe. There are more stories in this book. The Happy Prince so happens to be one of them.” He nods, allowing that particular conversation to end. He lays down on the grass, ready to read in the process, but is caught staring at the expanse of your neck. Your braid reaches the middle of your back, swaying in the wind. When he takes sight of the band that holds it together, he reaches out, hoping that you won’t notice, and pulls it off. He swiftly drops it to make it seem like he hasn’t done anything, so by the time you turn around to identify the cause of the loosened sensation, he already has the book propped on top of his legs, gazing at the lines with much concentration.

“Did you see anything?” You ask with a raised brow. He simply nods, trying to hide the smirk on his face. It doesn’t go unnoticed by you though.

“Draco. Was it you?” When he doesn’t respond, you laugh.

“You’re such a git.” Your fingertips trace the sand to locate the rubber band, but the boy stops you before going any further. He wraps his hand around your wrist, while catching your gaze.

“It looks better down.” He says firmly.

“But you said-”

“I don’t want you letting it loose for others to see. In front of me is fine.” He holds your gaze for what seemed to eternity before slowly loosening his grip on your hand.

He then proceeds to ask, “Can I touch it? Your hair?” You smile and nod at him. He takes the opportunity to scoot closer behind you. After he situates himself at a comfortable distance, he reaches out to your loosened braid, and gently runs his fingers through it, breaking it up entirely. Your strands are soft in his touch, and the light from the sun only emphasizes how shiny it is. You pay no mind to the boy’s doing. Instead, you continue reading while he plays with your hair.

After 15, perhaps 20 minutes of reading, you finally finish your book. It is then that you notice that he’s still stroking your locks. Slightly amused, you look up from your book and decide to tease him for a bit.

“Are you having fun back there?” Your question is accompanied with a giggle.

“Most fun I’ve had in years.” Sarcasm laced through his voice. “Can you teach me how to braid?” Your head turns back, but you’re only faced with a serious expression.

“What’s the sudden interest?” As you ask your question, the breeze picks up, eliciting a shiver out of you. It takes a second for Draco to notice how thin your clothes were.

“Why don’t we go inside? It’s warmer and you can teach me how to braid your hair.”

“You’re so insistent, aren’t you?”

“Not insistent, just ambitious.” You rolled your eyes as he lifted you from the ground.

You both make your way to the dungeons, taking the familiar route that leads to his room. You don’t protest the destination as much, only being grateful that it was warmer than the harsh change in climate outside of these walls. You can’t help but recall how much has drastically changed since the week prior, but it warmed your heart knowing that there was more to Draco than what meets the eye.

As you enter the dorm, you take notice of all the luxurious details that embellish everything from his furniture to the style of his clothes. It was much more put together since the last time you found yourself there. The crisp scent of apples filled your nose, allowing yourself to ooze into the comfort of the environment. You show no hesitance to flop on his bed, seeing as he has done so to yours a number of times already. While doing so, he discards his robes and hangs it over a coat rack. The sight of you brings out a small smile from him as he claims the seat next to you.

“Now, where were we?” He asks. You proceed to sectioning your hair into two parts. You hand him one, which he takes gently all while focusing his concentration on the demonstration you show.

“Okay, so we start off with three sections…” He does as you say.

“Now I take this, and flip it over this section.” He repeats. Only the sounds of his breaths can be heard.

“Now you do it to the other side, and repeat the pattern.” As you demonstrate with your strands, a shocked expression fills his face as he tries to repeat your actions. He gets it eventually, although his braid is much messier and unkept in comparison to yours, which is tight and neat. A familiar scowl appears on his face, but you try to keep your laughter in. In all fairness, he really was trying.

“Here. Take all of it. Try braiding my hair.” You run your fingers, deleting both your work and his, and turn so that your back is facing him. You keep your sights set towards the window, as he begins to work his way through your hair. He starts off by combing his fingers through your locks, which felt annoyingly good. He then proceeds to repeat everything that he has learned within the last five minutes. Him doing so only proved how quick of a learner he was. Silence filled you both, and as time drifted on, you ended up dozing off into sleep. It is only when Draco finishes that he notices you. He tugs at his final product slightly to see the expression on your face, but in doing so, you fall onto his chest as soft snores find their way out of your lips.

“And she calls me a git. Look at her sleeping while I handle her hair.” His eyes soften at the gentleness of your own expression before he scans the way your arms have wrapped themselves across your waist. Ensuring that you were sound asleep, he carefully reaches for your hand, forcing it to open as he slightly interlaces his fingers with yours. He takes a moment to comprehend the situation, his face warming up when he realizes that your back is slouched against his chest, your head resting on his shoulder, and one of his hands clasped delicately into yours.

It’s when his eyes land on your resting face once more that he recalls all that you are, all that you have shown him. He then envisions the long-term, imagining all he has yet to discover about you. The care that you’ve shown him by far is more than what anyone has done throughout his life. He revisits the week before when you mentioned reading as a way to escape. Now that as he has you lying against him, he thinks of the possibility that his real escape is actually you. His mind finds pleasure in that thought, and it only makes his heart race when he thinks about what could possibly happen between you two tomorrow, or the day after that, a week, month, year. What answer would he receive by then? He isn’t even sure if you’d say ‘yes’ to an offer in a relationship, especially knowing how focused you are with your school work. Ridding the thoughts for another time, Draco slowly lays his back down against the mattress, bringing you carefully along with him. Your legs become entangled with his. His hand never leaves yours.

Ensuring that you were certainly asleep, he whispers softly to the air, “I think I like you, Y/N.” He wraps his other arm around you before falling into a peaceful slumber.

A/N: I don’t think this is the end, but that’s not the point! I hope you enjoyed it :) Any feedback is very much appreciated hehe.

#Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy imagines #draco x reader #draco x you #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #slytherin imagines

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7wanderingpaws · 4 years

Text

Mess We Made - fourth/last (m)

(gif not mine)

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

Genre: arranged marriage au (not bbh), doctor AU, angst, fluff

Words: 7.5K

WARNINGS: language, mentions of blood, mature content, cheating (not bbh)

Quick A/N: Hiii! Im gonna hide... Ive never written sth like this omg. (pls let me know your thoughts). This is the final part so I feel accomplished I wrote such long chapters in such a short time ><

tags: @byunfirstlady @blackon @puppyeoliepop @in3vitably3v3 @mangobaek @bobohumyonlyboo @wooya1224 @exortedgoods @gureuma (if you want to be tagged/untagged please reply to this post)

parts: first – second – third -- fourth (last)

masterlist

Mess We Made, last part

“What the hell did you think you were doing in the hospital?” you attacked him as soon as you arrived home after two days.

Frankly Minheob didn’t come to visit you anymore although you overheard some nurses gossiping that he went several times to the doctor’s office and had a chat with doctor Kim. As much as you wished to know why he would go the great lengths to try to tie you down, you also couldn’t care less as long as he didn’t come and see you.

Minheob frowned at you as he watched you cradle Hayeon. “Do you think I don’t know?”

“Don’t know what?”

He stepped closer to you and you wanted to move backwards but the baby’s crib was behind you, successfully caging you in. He grinned nastily. “Well, you really are so clueless. As soon as I found out your lover is also in that hospital, I rushed in to get you. You doing miscarriage and daring to cheat on me at the same time?” He scoffed. “That is unheard of.”

Your heart rate sped up at his words. There was no way you cheated on him. Baekhyun did come several times to check up on you, sometimes you even swore he was there while you were sleeping and felt something soft brushing your cheek, but you never did anything more than what a doctor and a patient would do. Did Minheob know about Baekhyun? If he did then how did he find out?

Minheob laughed out loud at your shocked expression, and reached out to caress Hayeon’s hair but you moved her away from his touch. “She is my daughter too, you know.”

“How dare you accuse me of cheating on you,” you muttered sternly, trying to keep your voice down so as not to trigger the baby.

“Well, then let me put you into perspective because the past year you’ve been amazingly oblivious.” He made a dramatic pause and you almost lost all your wits. He took a deep breath and like a snake, licked his lips in mischief. “How many times have you moaned his name when you were coming, huh?” he whispered, carefully watching you from up close. “How many times have you thought it was him instead of me? You were so full of him while in bed with me... What made you ever think I wouldn’t find out that you still kept in touch with him?”

Blood drained from your face and you knew you were done for. And Baekhyun too. Your stupid mistake would bring him into this huge mess that you created again.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you dared to lie through gritted teeth and hugged your baby even tighter. “Nor do I care what your twisted mind came up with, Minheob.”

He laughed, stepping away from you. “So this is the way you want to act? I will gladly moan out his name for you, maybe then you would remember?” he asked with a low tone.

You started walking towards the kitchen, deciding to mix the baby formula so that Hayeon could eat. You were not breastfeeding her, you only did so for two weeks before you gave up. Your breasts took too long to bring out the milk and even if they did, it was bloody. Another reason to be miserable. You couldn’t even feed your child.

“Stop pretending you didn’t hear me,” snickered your husband and grabbed your wrist, yanking you back to him.

You gasped, holding Hayeon tighter. “I didn’t cheat on you!”

“I don’t give a fuck whether you did or not! You just stayed in hospital for two days for nothing because he wanted you there!”

When you opened your mouth to retort something, he muttered: “Baekhyun wanted to keep you there for himself, didn’t he? Good way to make use of you,” he snarled. “A woman that lost her child. He could still fuck you over-“

Your hand flew out before you could think twice, landing a stinking slap on Minheob’s face. “Get him out of your filthy mouth,” you muttered lowly, sending him death glares. Minheob was shocked just for a moment before he was about to rebuke, but you beat him to it: “Baekhyun has nothing to do with me. Stop blaming innocent people-“

“I cannot believe you had me fooled! I had his best friend stalked to make sure he wouldn’t make moves on you, the Park Chanyeol kid, and then it was the fucking doctor the whole time!” he shouted but you didn’t flinch, only proudly noted how his cheek was becoming redder with each passing second.

“I never fooled you,” you answered, “it’s you who does the dirty job. Leave Baekhyun alone.”

“I can see how angry you are becoming. Protecting your secret lover.”

“He is not my secret lover.”

“I can see the way you are looking at me right now. You hate even the idea of me saying his name, don’t you? You hate your entire family for making you marry me when you could have him-“

“Enough.”

“But you’re stuck with me and he will most probably find another woman-“

“I said enough!” you screamed loudly, successfully making Hayeon cry in your arms while your husband had a victorious smile on his face. He paused for a moment and pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Turning away from you, he said: “Good luck taking care of that weeping machine. It’s annoying. I’ll be out.”

When you heard the door slam, you felt your cheeks burning up with anger while the tears you didn’t know you were keeping in, spilled. Quickly shushing Hayeon, you went over to grab the formula as you originally wanted to, while sniffing.

“C‘mon, Hayeon, don’t cry,” you tried gently but she was relentless.

You didn’t want her to be scarred by the toxic relationship you had with her father. Everyday you tried your best to be good for her and make her happy so that she would grow up well. But having Minheob breathing down your neck was making it hard.

It was almost one hour later, Hayeon still slowly sucking on the milk from her bottle while you had the big TV turned on with a comedy show when the doorbell rang.

Sighing tiredly, you walked over to the intercom to check the camera, and your heartbeat sped up when you noticed Baekhyun’s profile as he was waiting for you to let him in.

What the hell was he doing here? He shouldn’t be here!

Despite your racing thoughts, you let him in and walked over to the doors with Hayeon in your arms. She was tapping on your chest with her small hands as she was looking at you with huge eyes.

You were cooing to her softly, hoping it would ease your nerves. And it did. You didn’t hear Baekhyun approaching, only realizing his presence when he was two meters from you, casually leaning his shoulder against the wall, his arms pushed in his dark-blue jeans, and observing you with a warm, gentle smile. It made your heart skip a beat.

“Baekhyun,” you breathed and he lazily stretched his lips before walking over to you, standing a tad too close as he was looking down at your daughter.

“Being a mother really suits you,” he murmured softly, looking up to catch you staring.

Quickly recovering, you blurted: “You shouldn’t be here, Baek. I’m not sure when my husband will be back-“

“He won’t be coming for a while, don’t worry,” he replied calmly.

You frowned. “Did he go after you?” Just the idea made you dizzy with worry.

Baekhyun chuckled, taking in your expression. “No, but he is with doctor Kim.”

You frowned.

“Won’t you let me in?”

“Ah, right,” you stammered and moved aside, letting him in. You weren’t sure you wanted him to see the place you’d been living in with another man that wasn’t him. Baekhyun looked out of place as you followed him to the spacious living room. “Please, sit down. What can I get you?”

He did as you asked and looked at you with expectant eyes. He smiled sheepishly. “This is probably too much but… do you maybe have wine?”

“I do but… aren’t you driving?”

“My brother will come and pick me up. He is nearby doing some business.”

You nodded. “I’ll have a glass with you, too. Just let me put her-“

“I can hold her,” he offered smoothly which made you stop. “Only if you don’t mind. I’ve held quite a few babies,” he grinned proudly.

Smiling, you gladly handed him Hayeon and gave him her little bottle. You realized you were too close because when you glanced up, Baekhyun’s nose almost brushed yours. Pulling away, you turned to go when he asked: “Aren’t you breastfeeding? You shouldn’t drink.”

Preparing two wine glasses, you told him you weren’t. He was silent and when you came out with the glasses and two kinds of bottles he looked up at you holding the options up for him.

“Red,” he said with a smile.

You nodded and poured the both of you a glass and faced him. Humming, you noted: “Being with a baby suits you.”

He smiled knowingly. “Oh, yeah? Well… this one looks a lot like you, to be honest.” He gave a loving caress to Hayeon’s head and you felt your heart squeezing painfully.

“Luckily.” You cleared your throat. “What brings you here?”

Baekhyun cooed at Hayeon a little bit longer before he murmured, catching your eyes. “I was worried… he would do something to you.”

“But you never cared before.”

“That’s not true and you know it.”

You bit your lip. “Why is he with doctor Kim again?”

Baekhyun pressed his lips for a moment, thinking over your question. “He is…” he let out a perplexed laugh, as if unsure what to say, “I don’t know how to put it in words.”

Baekhyun earned your full attention now. “What do you mean?”

“He is in love with doctor Kim.”

Your mouth fell open, the news catching you off guard. “H-he what?”

“Shh,” he shushed gently like he always did with you, and nodded towards Hayeon who was drifting off to sleep in his arms. Your heart squeezed painfully once again, the sight was bittersweet. Your child in his arms. “I found out today too. He had been visiting her for a long time. Turns out they have known each other since high school.”

That sounded awfully familiar. “And now he is trying to get her?”

Baekhyun shrugged once and looked down at Hayeon, her eyes peacefully closed but still diligently sucking on the last droplets of milk. “Maybe?”

“And here I thought he went there to stalk me.”

He turned his head towards you. “Does it matter whether he actually wants doctor Kim?” he asked quietly, the unvoiced actual question palpable in his voice. Do you love your husband enough to be hurt that he wants another woman?

“I feel sorry for her,” was your blunt answer. “But if that means he will change I wish he would ditch me.” You looked Baekhyun in the eyes. “I’ve been wanting this whole nightmare to end for two years, Baekhyun. Two years of being completely helpless, not even able to see you properly. I want him to ditch me and I want to be with you.”

He was listening to you carefully, his eyes sometimes drifting to your lips and the way they shaped when you pronounced some words. “If I told you I have someone else…”

Within seconds your eyes burned up in despair. “No, you don’t.”

Without an answer, he was looking at you; observing the way your cheeks became red along with your nose while your eyes were full of unshed tears. You were so beautiful even after miscarriage. You were ethereal in his eyes even though he just made you cry. Now that Baekhyun thought about it, he didn't remember the last time he saw a genuine smile on your face; it was always either a tired, insincere smile or crying. If he only saw you like that, how many times must have you cried when he wasn't there?

“Please don’t tell me you have someone else,” you whispered when he wouldn't answer.

“It's only natural I would find someone else,” he reasoned matter-of-factly but in a gentle tone so as not to upset you.

“And you came here to tell me this?”

Baekhyun was helpless. He knew your jealousy could be blinding, but he thought with time it would simmer down. “I didn't come here to talk about my private life-”

You snorted sarcastically. “Right. Your private life is how we call it now?” You reached out for sleeping Hayeon and took her into your arms. Without a word you walked to the bedroom. In case you would become even more emotional, you didn't want her to wake. You heard Baekhyun shuffling after you, a conflicting gaze following your every more.

He waited by the door, silently watching you putting Hayeon into her crib. With teary eyes, you observed your daughter a little longer, thinking how wrong everything was at that moment before facing your guest.

Baekhyun didn't move when you closed the door behind you, instead he took hold of your wrist to make you look at him. “I'm sorry. It all came out so wrong.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” you said evenly. “It's your private life and it's none of my business. Which means you may go. Now that you made sure I wasn't dying on the bedroom floor - because you really care about my well-being - it's time to leave.”

Baekyhun was slowly losing his patience. “Stop acting so freaking stubborn.”

More tears welled up in your eyes. “You are right. So leave. I want to be alone.”

He sighed when you tried to push his hand away. “Sweethea-” he stopped himself, biting quickly into his lower lip. Your heartbeat sped up but then he murmured your name softly and you deflated again. “I didn't mean I'm in a relationship.”

“Then what did you mean?” you pressed.

“I was with other women while I wasn't with you. That's all,” he replied truthfully. “I haven't been in a relationship ever since you left me.”

“But you slept with other women,” you finished.

He nodded, staring into your eyes with pure honesty. He had his heart on his sleeve for you, and you still couldn't help the boiling feelings of betrayal. Maybe it was because you were still recovering from the happenings of the past three days or maybe it was just the way you would always feel when Baekhyun was with another woman, be it romantically or purely physically.

“I still don't get why you are telling me this. I still don't understand why you had to come here now, out of all the times.”

“I want you back,” he whispered. “Even though it is impossible, I want you back. With everything you are.” Your breath hitched in your throat and your heart restarted its wild beating. “It's so fucking difficult to keep my hands off of you, to not touch you, to not be there for you when I know you don't have anyone else to turn to and share your burdens with. I know your asshole of a husband mistreats you with your entire family helping him out. I'm tired of it and if it means going against all the rules, then so be it.”

Hope was making your eyes come alive, he could see it. Even though they were teary, hope sparked through and Baekhyun felt relieved.

“Are you doing this now because you know Minheob has feelings for another woman?”

He was shocked. “W-what? No, it isn't about it-”

“Yes, you are,” you said, not even listening to him, “you wouldn't have come here if my husband wouldn't be seeing doctor Kim right now. Otherwise-”

“No, wait, listen to me-”

“You wouldn't fight for me if it weren't for-”

He murmured your name in warning. “Listen-”

“I can't believe you-”

“For Christ's sake just listen-”

“Make me.”

Baekhyun was furious. Both of you were staring down each other, both of you hurt and desperate. “Make me listen, Baekhyun,” you said again with a steely voice and he grabbed your face and crashed his lips on yours. You let out a moan, his lips so soft against yours despite the kiss being anything but soft. He cradled your face and you didn't waste time in bringing your arms around his neck, bringing him closer. You heard Baekhyun inhale sharply as he sucked on your lower lip before licking it, asking for entrance. He growled when you complied but would fight him for dominance. It was a game of push and pull and he pressed you against the wall next to the bedroom door; the room which you shared with someone that wasn't Baekhyun.

It was thrilling, exciting and you wanted more. Baekhyun tasted much sweeter than you could remember and there wasn't a chance that you'd get enough. When it came to him, it was never enough for you. Thirstily, you pressed your middle to his, causing him to grunt while he sucked on your tongue, his hands on your neck to angle your face for him. You could feel your lips were already swollen but you didn't care. Your hands were buried in his hair, messing it up, pulling on it as you wanted more. More, more, more. You wanted him to devour you, to take you and to never return you.

But it was still Baekhyun. This was unfair to him. And so he was the first one to disattach, pulling away from you slightly to press his forehead against yours while the both of you were panting. You looked at his lips, the way the skin around them was turning a gentle pink, his lips particularly red. God, you loved those lips and how cutely they were shaped.

He caressed your jaw with his thumb, bringing your attention up to his droopy eyes. “I love you,” he confessed.

Your throat went dry for a second. It was like reliving all your happy memories with him all over again. “I love you, too, Baekhyun,” you replied, making sure you were staring into his eyes.

A soft smile spread on his face and he leaned in to kiss you again but stopped just before his lower lip could touch your upper one. “We shouldn't do this, though. You are married, have a baby and it's not right.”

“You already kissed me,” you urged him, not sparing even a heartbeat to think about his words, “it won't make a difference if you do it one more time.” You raised yourself on your tiptoes and kissed him before he could retaliate. He moaned so subtly it almost made your knees buckle. His hands travelled souther, caressing your shoulders before they went to your back where he drew sensual circles, making you feel all sorts of inappropriate things. You dared to bring your hands to the hem of his shirt that was tucked into his jeans and pull it out, wanting to feel his skin under. He let out another moan when he felt your fingertips trailing the outline of his abs- wait, abs?

You pulled away. “Since when are you so ripped?” you breathed which made him chuckle. You lifted his shirt slightly to see that he had a freaking six-pack. Your mouth went agape, but you still felt Baekhyun's hand on the sliver of skin that showed between your jeans and shirt. He didn't dare to go further than that, though.

“Where else can I use my frustrations if not in the gym, hm,” he murmured in a low voice that made your insides squeeze with want.

You rested your head against the wall, looking at him with content. “I caused it all. I'm sorry.”

He sighed and stepped closer, one leg between yours as he cradled your cheek. “I knew from the start it would go like this, you know. Don't apologize.”

“I'm still sorry 'cause I never should have made you go through the things that me and my terrible family did.” You paused for a moment. “Let's start over, together,” you suggested eagerly. “Let's run away.”

Baekhyun took a deep breath. “You know that isn't possible, love.”

“It is,” you insisted, “of course it is. Let's just disappear and not let anyone know.”

“I have to make a living. And I love my job. You need to take care of your daughter as well.”

“So is that a no? Even if I get a divorce and a chance to start over… is that a no?” you asked quietly.

“Look, doctor Kim knows about us. She knows about our relationship because I couldn't focus whenever I knew you were in the clinic. My behavior gave me away and she is a great senior that understood me well. She was the one to tell me to come here and she called your husband over. I'm sure she is lecturing him.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, running his thumb over the naked skin of your hip. “I'm sure with time, we can slowly start over again, hm?” he prompted gently, tapping your skin a few times. “Time is all we need.”

“I have to wait more to have you?” You were being greedy. You knew you were. But you couldn't help yourself.

“We waited a long time for each other,” he breathed, “we can wait a little longer. Doctor Kim will help us.”

“Then kiss me one last time. To seal it,” you demanded. “As a promise that you will come back to me, Baekhyun.”

And Baekhyun did.

///

It had been weeks now that you found out about Minheob having feelings for the kind doctor Kim. You weren't sure if it was because you were aware of it, but Minheob seemed to become less interested in you overall. He didn't call you when you were busy with the shop, he didn't care if you came home a little later, and not once mentioned Baekhyun to you anymore. It was almost as if that argument never happened.

Even though that seemed to get better, you were still sour because Baekhyun kept the contact between you two quite limited even though he said he wanted you. Sometimes you would exchange texts, because you couldn't keep still; your need to know what he was doing, how he was doing and where he was, was stronger.

It could have been frustrating and maybe now you got a taste of how he must have been feeling the entire time after your break-up. You expecting him to be alone and wait for something to happen was so greedy it made you feel embarrassed. Of course he would have found a woman for pleasure.

You weren't disappointed; hurt maybe because you despised any idea of him being with another woman. After all, you wanted to be the only one to know how he was like in bed, how he would treat a woman after the love-making was done.

You groaned gently, the intruding thoughts not doing you any good. Plus, you were on your period. Maybe you shouldn't have thought about it too much. He confirmed he still loved you and that was all that mattered.

It was almost four months later, your relationship and communication with Minheob almost non-existent and Hayeon a curious toddler, when Minheob said a sentence you never thought you would hear:

“I want a divorce.”

You swiveled around from where you were sitting on the carpeted floor, watching over Hayeon while your tablet was sitting in your lap, going through the new lingerie sets that were supposed to arrive anytime soon. With it, finally, the “unlock, bbh” one as well.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he sighed, sitting on the sofa, emotionlessly looking at an ever-bright Hayeon. “I want to divorce you.”

You were silent, carefully thinking over what to reply next. Maybe you didn't seem as shocked to him as he would have expected you to, but he didn't care at that point.

“I am with another woman. And I want to become a better person for her.”

“I see…”

He rolled his eyes. “At least pretend like you're shocked.” “I am, Minheob. You never told me you are seeing someone else.”

“Just like you never told me you are cheating on me with that doctor of yours.”

“I never-” you started, offended, but all too quickly you remembered kissing Baekhyun in that very house. Minheob couldn't have known about that, though. “I didn't cheat on you. Not like that.”

He let out a dishonest laugh and looked away. “Either way, it doesn't matter anymore. I want it to be as soon as possible.”

“What about Hayeon? She is your daughter.” Minheob didn't care about Hayeon, you knew it. He barely ever tried to initiate anything with her, let alone ask if the baby was doing well.

“Yeah,” he rolled his eyes, “you couldn't even give me a boy. It had to be a daughter.”

You puckered your lips, trying hard not to pick a fight. “I'm sick and tired of you being a misogynistic prick,” you told him in a calm voice. “She is a healthy child and you should be fucking thankful.” You turned to look at Hayeon who was playing with huge baby-safe lego pieces. “I will raise her to become much more badass than any man ever will.”

“Sure, you will.” He was silent for a while. “I will try better. I will take care of my part on her behalf, of course. And the matter with your family - they are all to stay just as usual.”

Not turning to look at him, you hummed. “Good way to become a better person, Minheob.”

“I'll deal with all the paperwork. Let's get everything settled by next week. Since we both agree on divorce.”

Sudden eagerness ignited your hope to be with Baekhyun much earlier than you anticipated. Just the idea of it made you feel elevated.

“And about this house…”

You turned your head to look at your soon-to-be ex-husband. “I will leave with Hayeon, don't worry.”

“Good.”

///

You headed to Baekhyun's that evening. Packing up the baby bag for Hayeon, you put her in the baby carrier basket once you arrived. You knew his new address but not once you visited. Having Minheob as a husband had its perks after all; you could easily look into the employees' personal records.

Baekhyun lived in an upscale apartment building, typical for families that had money. It made you realize just how much he developed professionally.

Shushing Hayeon, you waited for Baekhyun to open the door and when he did, he still looked surprised, even after letting you in through the intercom. “Hi,” you smiled, “I came to talk.”

Baekhyun took you in, noting the sleeping toddler. “Sure, come in,” he said quietly, not wanting to disturb the sleeping child.

“Sorry for coming unannounced,” you muttered sheepishly, admiring the way he looked in simple grey joggers and a white shirt.

Baekhyun stopped you from going further into his apartment. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“No,” you smiled softly, “I have some good news.”

Sitting close to each other, you talked for about two hours; about your future. About the current situation and about the way it all evolved. Baekhyun was surprised but you were relieved when you saw his eyes light up with the same hope that it did with yours. For amoment you were worried he wouldn't reciprocate the excitement but when he almost ducked to kiss you, you knew he still felt the same.

Your faces were so close, you could feel his breath on your cheek. “I was thinking about looking for an apartment…” you trailed off. “Maybe somewhere close to yours?”

“Silly,” sighed Baekhyun affectionately, “you'll come straight to my place.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you eyed his lips. “Are you sure? I will have Hayeon with me,” you admitted, not wanting to sound as sad as you actually felt. It made you sound like a bad mother and maybe just a little bit, you were. Hayeon was such a delight of a child, but she was Minheob's. Baekhyun didn't have anything to do with her and even though you loved her, it also made you mad that you didn't have a child with Baekhyun.

“You know I never had anything against Hayeon. She is innocent and too young. She is barely one, sweetheart. She is your child, how can I not love her?”

Baekhyun's words made your eyes snap up to meet his tender ones.

Slowly he lifted his hand, cradling your cheek. “She looks a lot like you, you know?”

You closed your eyes. “You already told me.”

“And I'm saying it again. She is gorgeous. I bet she will grow up into a beautiful lady just like her mother.”

You smiled, shaking your head gently as to not let his hand fall. “Will you help me raise her into a good and loving child?”

“Of course,” he breathed, his thumb wandering to your lower lip. “We will raise her together.”

Your smile grew wider, now opening your eyes. “I love you so much, Baekhyun. You really have no idea how perfect you are, do you?”

He smiled and leaned in, nudging your nose with his. “I would do anything just to see you smile like that again. I want to keep that smile on your face forever, baby.”

Electricity cursed through your veins. You leaned in, wanting to finally overcome the teasing distance between your lips but Baekhyun stopped you. “Hayeon is sleeping here.”

“She will sleep for a while now. She always sleeps the best after a car ride,” you muttered, still eyeing Baekhyun's lips.

He hummed, acknowledging your words. Then he grabbed your hand gently, intertwining your hands and made you stand up. Eagerly, you followed him to his bedroom and once he closed the door, you stared at each other for a moment before the both of you leaned in at the same time. Kissing each other passionately, he walked you towards his bed and sat down, making you straddle him.

You whimpered at the feel of his wandering hands. “You don't mind kissing me now?” you asked, wanting to be sure you weren't doing something that made him feel uncomfortable.

Baekhyun was looking up at you with huge eyes full of lust and love. The raw crave in his eyes was undeniable and it turned you on. “No. I should have just stolen you a long time ago.”

You giggled but he silenced you with another mind-blowing kiss. Letting him touch you everywhere, you found yourself needing air quickly and Baekhyun moved to your cheek, jaw and neck, sucking gently on the sensitive skin. Your hands were messing up his before they found the way to his shirt, once again wanting to feel up his abs that contracted under your touch.

“I missed you so much,” groaned Baekhyun when he squeezed your backside as he licked your collarbones before biting. You hissed, but he didn’t stop.

“I missed you much more,” you breathed, closing your eyes in pleasure. “You have no idea how much.”

He hummed and grabbed the v-line of your shirt, yanking it down to show your bra. Hungrily, he attached his lips to the swell of your breast and you moaned loudly, burying your hand in his hair. “I missed these, too,” he muttered, making you chuckle.

When his other hand wandered south to your jeans, you grabbed his hand in alarm.

“B-Baekhyun, I’m on my period,” you breathed shakily, your arousal growing with each touch of his. Because of your stupid monthly issue you wouldn’t be able to enjoy Baekhyun but to your utter shock, he muttered:

“I don’t care.” With that, he hoisted you up in his arms, making you let out a silent squeal as he smiled and brought you to his private bathroom. “Unless you mind,” he added warily.

“No,” you shook your head quickly. “I crave you too much to care.”

The doors closed shut and you were pushed against them, his middle pressed to yours causing you to let out a wanton moan. He wasn’t even inside you but you felt like a bone shattering orgasm was on its way already.

“Fuck, I missed you so much,” he whispered urgently as he sucked on your neck, his other hand supporting you on your backside, and the other wandering inside your shirt.

Your hand was in his hair, grabbing on it, pushing his head into your chest needily. “Jesus, Baek, I need you. No teasing, god.”

This would be a first time for the both of you to be intimate while you were bleeding. As much as it was a little off-putting, neither of you built up the boundaries that seemed to be nonexistent in your relationship.

He grunted as he brought you to the shower stall and gently put you down on your wobbly legs. You were already taking off your shirt and jeans and he was mimicking you, desperate to finally feel each other’s skin. When the both of you were naked, Baekhyun stepped closer to you and reached behind you to turn on the shower.

The first wave had cold water which made you squeal and jump, attacking and hugging Baekhyun to yourself who caught you with a handsome laugh.

“I’ll make you all hot and bothered very soon, princess,” he murmured in your ear, his nose pressed to your hair as you felt his hand caress you over your stomach before he let it slide to your womanhood.

“Baek-“ you started quickly, sudden anxiety eating you away because you were bleeding.

“Shh, no words,” he said and brought his face back to yours, diving in to bite your lower lip. “Just our bodies talking.”

“But-“

“I said,” he pressed and just then he spread your womanhood, his middle finger teasing your lips and the sensitive bud before he quickly let it dive into your hole. Your knees buckled at the sensation and Baekhyun was fast to press you against the wall, letting the water wash away your blood and arousal from his hand.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he grumbled and pushed two fingers inside of you, humming when he watched you open your mouth in an airy moan, your eyes closed in pure ecstasy.

You were panting heavily and when you opened your eyes to look at your lover, you felt like your chest would combust with repressed emotions. You grabbed the back of his head and smashed your lips together, bringing out another pleasurable moan from Baekhyun. The vibration of his chest rang against yours, connecting two wildly beating hearts.

He scissored his fingers inside you, pumped you slowly, in and out, making sure you were well stretched out.

A whimper was what made Baekhyun pull away from the heated kiss. “Do you think you’re ready for me?” he asked in a low voice, his eyes full of affection, desire and lust.

You nodded eagerly. “Yes, yes, just get on with it.”

You reached for his member that had stood up proud in the meantime, keeping close eye contact with his owner. “Since we are doing it while I’m on my period, I can feel all of you,” you breathed as you stood on your tiptoes to kiss him again while you wrapped your hand around his shaft, spreading the pre-cum over the tip with your thumb, closely checking your partner for any reaction. “You can come inside of me.”

Baekhyun hissed and followed with a deep groan as his arm slid around your waist bringing you to him so he could rest his head in your neck. He left open-mouthed kisses lazily on your skin and he squeezed your body when you played with his balls. “Fuck!”

Without warning, he pushed your hand away. “Do you trust me?” he asked, his hands already trailing down your sides, his member pressed to your stomach.

“Always.”

“Then jump for me,” he whispered passionately and was fast to catch you, your legs around his waist and your center just on his manhood. “I will fuck your brains out.” He informed you and you could only plead for him to finally move on. And he did. With just his tip at your center had the both of you close your eyes and moan into each other’s mouths before he slowly pushed in.

“Ahh, yes,” you let out and wiggled in his grasp. Baekhyun hissed sharply biting your earlobe when he managed to slide almost all of him in. “Shit your slick.”

Both of you looked down to where you were connected to see the water wash away a chunk of blood. “Ready?” he asked gently. “Tell me immediately if somethings off.”

You smiled at him deliriously and nodded in confirmation.

Baekhyun started with a slow pace, his thrusts careful, making you feel every single inch of his member, every vein and plain. Being on your period made your womanhood extremely sensitive and aware of every single movement inside you which was the reason your forehead fell into his shoulder, a moan after moan leaving your mouth.

He took your passionate reaction as a yes to speed up, and he set a faster, stronger pace, sliding swiftly in and out of you, each fraction sending pleasurable waves through Baekhyun’s body.

“Fuck yes,” he groaned when he slammed harshly into you, aiming for your gspot, sliding you up the wet wall while you arched your back.

“Yes, Baekhyun, right there!” you screamed, the slight cramps in your lower abdomen wonderfully changing into a wave of ecstasy bringing you closer to the edge.

“I know my woman well,” he hissed, watching your erotic face expressions with hooded eyes as he gave you another powerful thrust. “Only I know all your secret spots.”

“Yes, yes,” you gasped and leaned in, pushing your tongue into his mouth, your teeth clinking in the process as his length kept filling you up, stretching you so well he was touching your cervix. You felt another chunk of blood releasing and Baekhyun panted, your walls starting to pulse around him, telling him you were close. He quickly fumbled with his hand and brought it to your lower lips, massaging sensually with long fingers while he pounded into you, chasing now his own release as well. The buildup was almost unbearable. Just the idea of him taking you would send him to another world and the fact that he truly had you in his arms, you wrapped around him inside and outside made him release spurts and spurts of cum, his panting coming out in high-pitched moans just when you started to milk him.

You screamed loudly and Baekhyun was mouthing at your breasts hungrily, just as he always did when he was releasing. He gave your nipple a bite as he turned his thrusts into lazy hip-rollings, helping the both of you ride out your highs.

The shower was still fully on but it did little to no help to block out the sexual pants both of you were heaving out.

You locked eyes with Baekhyun’s and caught him smiling in satisfaction. “Kiss me,” he muttered and you gladly leaned in, humming when he licked his way inside, meeting your tongue for a small battle for dominance. You pressed against him, pushing his tongue aside, wanting to win but he whimpered and bit you which made you withdraw with a hiss. You separated with a loud smack. “Cheater,” you whispered in disbelief, your lips red and swollen.

“Am I now?” quirked Baekhyun, flirting, and let you down slowly, slipping out of you. He cradled your face and kissed you innocently as if to make up for the ruined kiss, enjoying the touch of your lips as the water was mixing in.

“That was fucking amazing,” you told him in bliss, hugging his neck. You brought his ear close to your mouth. “Let’s do it again.”

“Nobody said we were done, princess.” Baekhyun had a shit-eating grin when he trailed his fingers up your sides and gently groped your breasts that made you sigh in pleasure right away. Your nipples were already hard and aching but his touch made you feel like you were levitating.

“You’re so damn sensitive. Who knew sex during your period would be this much fun? You are so responsive to every single touch of mine,” he murmured sexily as he let the tip of his nose trail your cheek, darting his tongue out to lick on your skin.

You were aroused yet again and begging for him to resolve this issue.

“You aren't leaving my house tonight,” he told you as he brought his head back to look into your eyes. “I'll take care of you.”

///

2 years later

Baekhyun squeezed your hand with a huge smile as you were both sitting on the ground opposite his parents while Hayeon was running around, playing in Baekhyun's childhood room. A room that held so many memories that were dear to you.

“Sweetie, eat a little bit more,” prompted Baekhyun's mother lovingly. “You are bearing a boy. You need to make sure he comes out all sturdy and ready to face this world.”

You giggled, as you caressed your baby bump, Baekhyun joining you.

“She is quite sensitive, mum. I don't want her to throw up everything afterwards,” commented Baekhyun.

He was right. As painless as Hayeon's pregnancy was, this little boy inside of you was making you nauseous 24/7. You found it quite ironic how your family wanted you to bring a boy into the family when you were with Minheob, yet now, when you were with Baekhyun, it was a boy. It was more exciting because Baekhyun did the ultrasound and finding out the gender of your baby had its own magic when he was the doctor.

The past two years, everything was so different yet the same. Living with Baekhyun was perfect despite typical arguments. He was understanding and you were trying to be okay with his busy schedules at the clinic.

Baekhyun wanted you to settle in properly in his house along with Hayeon before you would start a family with him. Being careful in bed was not the most fun for you, as you always wanted to feel everything he could offer, but once the both of you gave each other the green, your life became much more exciting. You were eager to get pregnant with Baekhyun's child. Finally, the old, rusty dreams you had as a teenage girl could come true.

After hearing some rustling, you stood up. “I'm gonna check up on Hayeon,” you said and strolled over to Baekhyun's bedroom. “Hayeon,” you muttered, seeing her going through some old biology books. You laughed. “Out of all the things in this room, this is what caught your attention?” you asked her, and walked over.

“Mama, look!” she pointed at some drawings Baekhyun had in the corner of the page.

“Oh, what is that,” you faked excitement and then you looked properly. Decoding Baekhyun's terrible scribbles, you gasped quietly.

hottest chickkk in the entire school >< and shes mine woow

love is not as bad as guys make it out to be

because i love herrr

“The hell is this?” you murmured, not even noticing Baekhyun standing behind you.

He laughed loudly and you looked up at him in question. “Well, what do you think it is? It's about you, silly,” he said and crouched, hugging you from behind. “Many guys were crazy about you, yet I got you.”

You snorted a laugh. “Sure, half of the school envied me and the other hated me for being who I am,” you said, looking at his side profile.

“Ah, look at you talking and talking instead of kissing your gorgeous husband,” muttered Baekhyun playfully, letting his hands slide over the baby bump. In response, you kissed Baekhyun's cheek.

“No kissing daddy!” Hayeon complained.

Hearing Hayeon calling Baekhyun her father warmed your heart. “I can't kiss daddy?” She didn't respond, instead observing you and Baehyun. “Together?” you tried.

She grinned with her tiny teeth and Baekhyun laughed at her cuteness. “Come over, my little princess,” he opened his left arm, not letting go of you. Hayeon squealed, jumping straight at Baekhyun which made him grunt. Without waiting, she pressed her mouth to Baekhyun's cheek while Baekhyun turned to you with a mischievous glint. He pressed his lips to yours and you smiled widely.

“Love you three so much,” said gently Baekhyun, looking at you and Hayeon while caressing your bump.

“Love you more,” you whispered and stole another kiss before Hayeon could notice.

Even though not everything was perfect, you finally were together as you should have been since the start of the mess. With most of it being resolved, you were excited to face a brand new chapter with Baekhyun and with the family you created with him.

.END.

/// /// /// /// /// /// ///

A/N: Hi! If you read till now, THANK YOU SO MUCH. My first angsty-smutty story phew. I am red and I do need to take a break lol. >< I really hope you liked this story and that you are satisfied with the happy end. ^^ I am satisifed. On this blog I have rarely a bad-ending stories soooo... Yes!

Thank you, pretty please leave a comment (cc) to let me know your thoughts?

See you soon!

#exowritersnet #baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun smut #baekhyun angst #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun #byun baekhyun #baekhyun story

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periminkle · 4 years

Text

blazes of deceit

this fic is a part of the disney collab hosted by @btswritingcafe!! please go check out all the other talented writers and their works 💕

+ summary. When the opportunity to finally venture past the stone walls you’ve grown up in presents itself, you jump at the chance to discover the origin of those mysterious lights—even if the trip comes with a harsh truth and a suspicious, yet undoubtedly attractive, tour guide.

+ pairing. jungkook x reader

+ genre. fluff, angst. tangled!au.

+ word count. 26.052

+ rating. 18+

+ warnings. threats against a baby’s life, unwarranted death, mom problems, trespassing, pan violence, hiding a (not dead) body, tying people up with hair, curse words, drinking, thievery, deadly chase, sword/pan fight, recklessly jumping from a great height, graphic descriptions of wounds and blood, general violence, dark family matters (it’s pretty twisted!), orchestrated infidelity.

+ author’s note. happy early birthday to golden baby jungkook!! this fic took me wAY too long to write but she’s finally here! HUGE thank you to my big brain frenemy @guklvr for beta reading and hyping me up by boosting my confidence level +2000 even tho she’s on vacation and should be relaxing LMAO i would’ve postponed this until next year if u didn’t push me so TY ILY LOADS CARL 💘 i also wanted to shoutout #1 jk ryder supporter @dewykth and wofe @yeojaa for encouraging me every step along the way, y’all are the best n ily both to pieces 💝💕

You are positively ravenous.

Flurries of people scurry past the towering bars of your crib, yet none spare a glance in your direction despite your boisterous wailing. Like moths to a flame, they’re all huddled in one corner, surrounding a panting woman that clutches her rotund abdomen in one hand while tightly clasping onto a bejewelled crown in the other.

“What are you waiting for?” she spits out, hardened orbs narrowed in on your pathetic form.

“Your Royal Majesty, it’s only been an hour since you have given birth, please reconsider—”

Her glower is redirected onto the younger woman’s trembling form. “Are you questioning your Queen? Shall we reconsider your life as well?”

“No,” she begs, her tone quivering with anguish, “please spare my ignorant self.”

Your facial muscles begin to cramp and the walls of your throat feel like sandpaper, which only serves to exacerbate your violent sobs. The insistent suckling on your thumb is doing nothing to quell your raging stomach.

Her lips peel back to reveal two rows of pearly white, dazzling teeth framed by a nasty snarl. “Somebody slit that brat’s throat!”

Another midwife adorned in the bloody rags of childbirth darts across the cramped space with a weeping bundle of rough canvas in her arms. As she scrambles to deliver the shuddering newborn into his counterfeit mother’s arms, the clumsy woman trips over thin air, flying across her enraged Queen’s lap. Without a second thought, her backside is pierced by a shiny steel sword, sullied in a crimson liquid when it reappears.

The introduction of another babe deters your cries for attention. Instead, you distract yourself with a dull glimmer that you catch in your peripheral. Your chubby fingers hopelessly extend toward the dingy stars dangling above your head, just out of reach, reflecting the bright orange tiger lily printed onto the high ceiling of your cage.

“Not a soul shall speak of today's treachery.”

You’re well aware that your short arms could never stretch the distance required to satiate your unending curiosity; but they stay aloft, searching for the reassuring warmth of your mother’s embrace.

“Our blood will remain on the throne.”

Screams of agony overwhelm your developing eardrums as your tiny hands come to cradle your head, willing the pain to end.

Every inch of your walls is covered with abstract paintings, doodles of twisting branches snaking around the edges, dainty birds in every colour under the sun, and a joyous little girl dancing in her own brilliant freedom. No matter where you look, bespeckled tiger lilies are buried within the intricate linework like easter eggs, waiting to be found.

Your favourite by far is the uncanny depiction of the image stashed deep inside the crevices of your memory, a sight your heart desires to view most from up close. The miniature illustration captures your longing gaze pinned on the multitudinous lights ascending from a foreign location, golden hair streaming down your back and flowing over the fireplace in your determination to capture its vast length.

You attempt to steel your nerves for the umpteenth time, but you can’t help your nervous pacing across the minuscule length of your room. The entire tower is spotless as a result of your mindless cleaning—floors scrubbed twice, nonexistent dust wiped away, and trinkets set at the perfect angle to encourage your mother to comply with your outrageous request.

Today is the day, after all. The day that you’ll finally convince the stubborn woman to bring you out to watch the masses of floating lanterns disappear into the night sky.

The pitter-patter of your bare feet scuttling against the concrete floors nearly drown out the melodic appellations from outside your window.

“—down your hair!”

You dash over to the aperture, hastily gathering the ends of your mane to fling down while fixing the bulk of it onto the hook above your head. When the figure enshrouded in a black cloak snatches up your tresses, looping it around to create a foothold and carefully wedges one leg inside, you haul them up through the makeshift pulley.

By the time both of their feet are safely planted on the ground next to yours, sweat is beginning to form by your temples and the perpetual ache in your arms flares from consistently being forced to heave another grown adult up the stretch of the colossal tower.

“Welcome home, Mother.” You pull the rest of your hair inside and turn to face the stunning woman who lowers her excessively long hood, the extra length of fabric intentionally stitched on to keep her identity obscure as she travels.

Your mother sweeps you up into her comforting embrace and you allow yourself to relax in her arms, resting your cheek on her chest while your digits tightly clasp on to one another around her middle. Her chin settles onto the crown of your head.

“You would think that lifting me up all these years would give you some more upper body strength,” she says, her disappointment practically tangible. Placing both manicured hands upon each of your shoulders with a light squeeze, she pushes you back to examine your body from head to toe. “But look at you! My poor, delicate, little flower.”

Your forehead creases from your raised brows as a tense smile completes your agitated countenance.

“Oh, darling, what’s wrong? Come, come with Mother.” The adamant woman latches onto your forearm, dragging you over to the rustic fireplace and pressing down on your shoulders. Ever the obedient child, you kneel down onto the thick rug below.

Your mother delicately takes a seat on the antique chair beside you, a weary sigh slipping past her lips before she starts sweeping a brush through your golden strands. As per tradition, you sing the incantation that’s essentially engraved in the back of your mind at this point.

“Flower, gleam and glow Let your power shine Make the clock reverse Bring back what once was mine,”

A gleaming shimmer races across your tresses at the verse and from the corner of your vision you watch the light creases marring your mother’s features fade in rapt attention. She hums along to the tune with a detached, distant look in her eyes.

“Heal what has been hurt Change the Fates' design Save what has been lost Bring back what once was mine,”

You allow your lids to slide closed, gathering all the courage you can muster for the following conversation.

“What once was mine.”

Once the last note fades and a deafening silence reigns, she gently urges, “Tell Mother everything.”

This is it, it’s now or never.

“Uh, well, as you know,” you mumble, clearing your throat, “my eighteenth birthday is tomorrow.”

“Mhm, and I’ve already gotten your present as well,” she hums, steadily working her way down your mass of hair.

You falter at the information she casually reveals, guilt eating away at your conscience for preparing to ruin her good mood. “Yes, I know you’re always thinking of me, but, uh, well—”

“You can tell me, darling.” You register your mother’s heavy palm stroking your head, coaxing the words to tumble out of your mouth.

So you lay it on her. “I was just wondering if you would take me to see the lanterns this year.”

“What was that?” she questions, rightfully so when the garbled words blurt out quicker than you can process.

Before you can second guess yourself, you stammer, “C-can we please go see the lanterns?”

The brush suddenly halts in its path, suspended within the waves and dips of your many strands. Although you can’t see her, you know your mother well enough to feel her stiffen up, peeved at the topic you’ve brought up many times before.

“Petal—”

You interrupt, desperate to plead your case, “Mother, please, I’ve been waiting for—”

“Zip it.” You instantly clamp up at her hissing.

Your mother takes her time to stand, stalking over to halt directly in front of your hunched form. Her daunting figure looms above you, fierce orbs evoking a filthy shame that sinks its claws into your spine, and you lower your stare to her ankles from its intense weight. “Enough. I don’t understand why you keep asking this idiotic question when you already know what my answer is going to be.”

Her spontaneous refusal dampens your spirit, but you press on. “I just, uh, thought that I could see them once for my birthday a-and then I’d never ask to leave the tower again.”

With a scowl as cold as an executioner’s axe, her arms come to cross beneath her bust. “I’ve already told you time and time again that they’re to celebrate the healthy birth of the Prince, any special ‘connection’ you feel to these lights is simply misguided and naive.”

You scramble to gather the scraps of bravery she shredded in order to sputter out, “But it’s my b-birthday too. Even if it’s just a coincidence, I wanna see them with my own two eyes.”

“How many times do I have to explain to you how dangerous the world is outside these walls? Do you know how many people are jumping at the chance to use your magic for themselves?” She rolls her eyes, chiding at you as if you’re a petulant child who disobeyed their elders one too many times. “If your little heart wants some adventure, you can go downstairs and explore the living room, besides darling, you should be thankful that nothing has happened all these years.”

“How am I supposed to be thankful for anything when you keep coddling me like this!” you lash out, frustration bubbling over at her usual response and refusing to toe the line any longer. Any notion of gently swaying her judgement or prompting her to consider your point of view is thrown out the window.

But your mother is nothing if not resolute.

“What?” Her words turn to ice—syllables forming razor-sharp blades that figuratively line your throat, poised to strike the second you step out of place. “Do you want to repeat that?”

Your breaths quicken, deathly afraid of the repercussions that will follow if you decide to continue your rebellious act. It wouldn’t be the first time that she punished you for begging to leave the tower.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, head hanging low and voice laced with resignation, “I didn’t mean that. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“Aw, my precious petal,” she coos, her mood drastically flipping one hundred and eighty degrees as the edges of her lips subtly point upwards at your obedience. “That’s why Mother is here, to guide you in the right direction. You know that I’m only looking out for you, right?”

“Of course, Mother.”

Evidently content with the outcome of the conversation, she turns back to continue brushing through your tresses.

By the time her ebony cloak rests upon her thin shoulders, hood draping over her face, your hair is already hanging by the hook above the window and she hops through the opening to lower herself to the ground below. You watch as her figure shrinks with the increasing distance, only turning back once to give a short wave before disappearing through the lush greenery.

And then you’re alone once again.

In the hours that pass after your mother’s departure, you become well acquainted with the five stages of grief. Of course, your requests to leave have been denied more times than you can count on both hands, but you foolishly believed that mentioning the eighteen years you spent cooped up in one place, fending off boredom, would hit a soft spot.

You forgot that your mother doesn’t have any of those.

Obviously, she anticipated your attempt to convince her by throwing yourself a pity party, as she deliberately mentioned purchasing a gift in advance. Out of all your celebrations, you couldn’t recall a single time where she prepared—much less remembered—your birthday.

Utterly absorbed within your final stage of acceptance, you lose yourself within your thoughts. That’s why the steady, rhythmic tapping on the cobblestone metres below makes you jump, mind wiped clean of everything except questioning the origin of the sound. Goosebumps manifest across the length of your arms, already slick with cold sweat.

Initially, you believe that your mother may have misplaced something, but your doubt accumulates when you don’t hear her usual jingle follow the rapping. You wonder if she is harbouring acrimony at your earlier outburst—even though she seemed quite pleased as she left.

Thus, like the loving daughter you are, you gather the ends of your hair, about to throw the lump over the aperture when you take notice of the stranger’s bulky frame and lack of disguise. Last time you checked, Mother certainly hadn’t chopped all her curls off either.

You can feel your heart thumping in your head, chest rising and falling expeditiously to compensate for the sudden rush of adrenaline surging through your veins. In your distress, her words come back to bite you, echoing within your mind that he must be after your magic.

Mother knows best, after all.

Discreetly glancing back down, you spot the man scaling the wall using two arrows, a feat which you’re sure he wouldn’t be capable of performing without those well-defined muscles, attractively outlined through his thin clothing. Realizing that you’re wasting time ogling at the intruder, you spin back to survey your room, scanning the area for any weapons you can use to defend yourself.

You disregard any prospect of overpowering him and decide to approach the confrontation by taking advantage of your ability to startle him. Before long, the sounds of the rigid arrowheads wedging into the spaces between the stones are no more than a couple of metres away, and you grab the nearest object in a blind panic.

All too soon, his large hands are gripping the window sill, and you scurry to press your body against the wall directly next to the opening. You grip the handle of metal tighter, struggling to keep your heavy breaths silent as you watch his fit form effortlessly raise himself up past the open window.

When he lands inside, you’re transfixed by the way his shirt hangs on his brawny body, the veins in his arms enlarged from the physical exertion of carrying his weight up the tower. Just for that moment, you let your eyes roam his lean figure in unadulterated fascination.

“Hah! Stupid guards, thinking they could catch me after—”

And then that moment ends.

A loud clang resounds throughout the cramped space as a result of the pan in your hand bashing into the back of his head. For a split second, you worry if the force behind your swing is enough to knock him out cold, but then he meets the floor headfirst. You wince for him.

With the substitute weapon in hand, you circle around his seemingly unconscious form up to his head, which is turned away from your prying stare. In order to decipher his level of cognizance, you crouch down and bow over him to get a better look at his face.

Long, dark locks that were perfectly mussed before his fall now cover nearly half his countenance, so you push them to the side to reveal his closed lids and strong brows. Following the curve of his cheekbones, you pass his cupid’s bow to gaze upon his thin lips, a tiny beauty mark laying directly underneath—an intimate detail that you feel uncomfortable knowing.

A faint blush colours your cheeks as you comprehend how utterly breathtaking the stranger is, drastically disparate to the stories your mother told you as a child, where men resembled ogres that lived under bridges, grotesque and unkempt.

He is nothing like that. Not at all.

He reminds you of the princes you read about in picture books—dashing and strong, willing to go to extreme lengths to find their Princess, their one true love. You know you’re taking it too far when you begin to fantasize about his personality purely based on his, admittedly, strikingly handsome appearance. With a vigorous shake of your head, you force yourself out of your reverie and get back to your task.

You stretch two fingers out to rest just beneath his nostrils, feeling the warm air that leaves his body at constant intervals, a good sign that he was not only alive but knocked out cold.

You prod at his shoulder, whispering, “Are you awake?”

No reaction.

With this confirmation, you take hold of one of his wrists with both hands and clench your jaw while leaning back, trying to use your body weight to help drag him. He proves to be much heavier than you initially believed, though you feel him moving inch by inch. Rather than another human being, you simply think of him as a heavy sack of potatoes for the sake of your conscience as you shuffle backwards, heading for the wardrobe on the other side of the room.

By the time you reach said armoire, you collapse on the ground next to him, gulping in as much air as you can. Now, there was simply the problem of shoving him inside. You turn your head to face the stranger, pouting at the prospect of having to lift his bulky self.

After much pushing and rearranging, the doors finally close behind him, although, as you predicted, stuffing him in there took much longer than you would like to admit. You aren’t sure how comfortable he is in the disfigured pretzel position you left him in, but his contentment is not at the top of your list of priorities right now.

Rubbing your palms together, you go to pick up the frying pan that lay discarded on the floor near the window when you take notice of the brown satchel that sat next to it. You have no use for any kind of travelling equipment, obviously, what with your whole life existing in this tall building, and your mother only carries a quaint, woven basket around. She is insistent on living as modestly as possible, and that includes whatever goodies she brings back from her adventures.

That rules out everyone but the stranger. The bag does look more masculine, anyway. Grabbing the strap, you raise the object in question up to have a closer inspection and find the leather to be heavier than expected. There are odd bumps protruding from its exterior, filling you with a tenuous curiosity.

Carefully, you lift the flap open to expose a heavily jewelled crown. Perplexity is written within the creases of your brows as you reach to grab the item within and drop the empty satchel. From your inexperienced eyes, the thing is as real as it gets, a shimmering gold decorated with the finest jewels in the kingdom. The different colours of each gem catch the light, reflecting the brilliant rays onto the walls of your room.

Your impromptu analysis concludes with an inexplicable pull towards the diadem, which you’re uncertain how to act upon until you involuntarily place the crown on your head. You turn to face the mirror leaning against the wall and it feels so right, as though two matching puzzle pieces have finally been brought together. The reflection staring back at you seems complete in ways you have never been before.

Yet, you can’t begin to fathom the reasoning behind all these strange epiphanies, unfamiliar with the tranquillity that quiets the constant buzzing in your head. Overwhelmed, you remove the crown and not a moment too soon, for a familiar, shrill shriek meets your ears.

“Petal!”

Your stomach lurches. Eyes darting to the wardrobe, you’re reminded of the man inside. You know if Mother saw him, she would definitely freak out, maybe even refuse to visit for the next week to drive you insane with solitude. But, then again, you could use him as an example to show that you could handle yourself out in that dangerous world she was always going on and on about.

“Let down your hair!”

You stuff the diadem back in the bag and stow it in an empty flower pot.

Giddy at the prospect of having a legitimate argument to reinforce your reasoning to leave the tower, you dash to the window sill and fling your hair over without a second glance outside. The rush of excitement blinds you from the sensitivity of your sore muscles as you haul her up.

“Petal,” your mother grits out, staggering inside due to your rushed actions, “what did I tell you about checking who’s calling before letting your hair down?”

“Hello, Mother!” you brush off her question, practically bouncing on the balls of your feet. “I have something really important to show you!”

“Don’t change the subject.” She squints her eyes at you, lips pursed with frustration. “You're getting more and more reckless. One of these days, a crook will make their way up here and you’ll be foolish enough to invite them inside, maybe pour them a cup of tea while you’re at it?”

“I’m truly sorry.” You decide to humour her to prevent her temperament from flaring, throwing out a meaningless apology—one you’re used to blurting out left and right.

“Now that’s what I like to hear,” she says, as smug and haughty as always. Your mother removes her coat, handing it off to you. “But today’s your lucky day! Just as I was about to visit, I remembered to bring your present!”

Your heart warms at your mother’s unusual thoughtfulness, although you’re much too eager to prove your strength first. “Ah, thank you, Mother. But I really want to show you—”

“Something more important than your mother’s present?”

“Of course not! I just wanted to get it out of the way so that I could enjoy your present later.” She seems unconvinced, so you add, “Y’know how they always say to leave the best for last?”

The older woman heaves an exasperated sigh, shoving you out of the way as she heads for the armchair in the corner. She slumps her tired form on the rickety seat as it creaks its refusal, then waves her hand, gesticulating that you get on with whatever it is you have up your sleeves.

Perspiration gathers within your palms and you fight to ward off the minuscule smile that plays on your lips while you gradually make your way back to the wooden armoire, “So, you’re always going on about how weak and fragile I am…”

“Yes.” She rests her chin in her hand, scrutinizing every hair on your head as though the answers to your ridiculous behaviour are buried within the multitudinous strands. “And what of it?”

“Well, I just thought that I should show you,” you start as your back hits the old furniture and your fingertips graze its rough texture. “That I’m more than capable of handling myself when we go out to—”

“When we go out?” she interrupts, irritation hardening her sharp features as she fixes you with an enraged scowl. “And where do you suppose we’re going exactly?”

You hesitate as your earlier confidence slips and you scramble to correct your word choice before she completely blows you off. “Uh, I just meant that this will show you how strong I am, and, uh…”

An eerie silence occupies the room when you find yourself at a loss for words. You know that your blabbering will get you absolutely nowhere, so you tighten your grip on the handles of the wardrobe, counting on your actions to speak louder than your words ever could.

“How old are you turning again, Y/N? It was eighteen, was it not?”

You shrink under her abrupt question, choosing to play along to pacify the shreds of annoyance flickering in her orbs. “Yes, Mother.”

“And for how long are we going to play this game?” she asks, standing with her basket in tow. Your mother rounds closer to you and your gaze automatically flies to the floor.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“What’re you hiding this time? Did you find another mouse? A rat?” she mocks, resting one hand on her hip. “Ooh, did a raccoon find its way inside?” Once her face is a mere couple of inches from your nose, you allow your eyes to meet her own, dreadfully empty ones. The sight sends a chill down your spine.

You release your hold on the furniture, dejection seeping from your tone. “Two mice this time.”

Her boisterous cackle echoes off the stone walls and she clutches her stomach in an attempt to quell the onslaught of laughter. The gesture reminds you of the countless other times you tried to ‘prove yourself’ through similar methods when you were younger, catching rodents that occasionally found their way into the nooks and crannies of the tower.

The first time you caught a mouse, you’d been ecstatic, rushing to show it off to the only person you knew. Although at that age, rather than a ticket to freedom, you were simply seeking your mother’s approval and perhaps a few praises here and there. You wanted to prove that despite your lonely upbringing—with your mother lounging around the tower for only a few hours every other day—you could handle yourself. She wouldn’t have to worry.

Evidently, you were too young to understand your mother’s rash nature, and she immediately assumed the worst—that you had somehow managed to sneak outside and wanted to prove your calibre by hunting down a nearby animal. The harsh scolding you received that day still lingers as a scar on your wrist, a painful reminder to never cross your mother.

“The outside world is not a simple matter of ‘two mice’ darling. You should know better than to think I’ll ever be impressed by these foolish displays of strength.” She swoops you up into her arms and you automatically bring your hands to circle her lithe waist. “That’s why you’ll always need Mother to protect you.”

Your chin rests on her shoulder, stare unfocused as you dismally state, “Yes, Mother.”

“Now, onto more exciting matters.” A couple of light, successive pats strike your back and you’re released from her hold. She is quick to open her wooden basket and rummage through the contents, reaching inside for what you assume to be your birthday present. The vegetables in her hand don’t excite you, but you put on a fake grin for her anyway. “I’m making your favourite soup!”

She scurries away from your static form to head past the doorway, but you stop her in her tracks with a low voice. “I’m not really feeling up for soup today.”

“You know how far the journey is to get some of these vegetables, let alone how expensive each one is!” she exclaims, waving said produce in her hand as she spins to face you.

“I’m really sorry, Mother,” you mumble, flashing her your best puppy-dog eyes. “But I ran out of paint recently and I’m feeling kind of down about it.”

She tuts. “That’s a three-day journey, Petal.”

“I know, it’s just that when I can’t distract myself with painting, I get these horrible thoughts of leaving the tower.” Doing your best to reason with her, you shift your weight to the other foot and fiddle around with your fingernails, attempting to appear as innocent as possible. “And I think those paints are a much better idea than going out to see the lights.”

A few seconds pass before a groan escapes your mother’s lips. “You’re lucky Mother loves you dearly.”

You stumble into her torso, grateful that she is unintentionally following along with your plan—a tedious scheme that you were saving as a last resort. She strokes the crown of your head, allowing you to nuzzle your cheek into the comfort of your mother’s embrace before her immediate departure.

Goodbyes are exchanged with some more reprimands sprinkled into the conversation, then she scales down the building and is no longer in your line of sight. You rub the nape of your neck, inching towards the armoire as you ponder whether a trip to indulge in your greatest desires is worth it when weighed against the lifelong bond you have with your own blood.

While navigating through your moral dilemma, you twist open the knob and watch as the scruffy man’s body slumps down to the floor without the support of the door to hold him upright. You refrain from cringing at his reddened nose.

Prioritizing your safety first, you retrieve your trusty pan and manhandle his body onto a chair, the seat still warm from your mother’s presence. This time around, you won’t be able to attain the upper hand by catching him off guard, so you settle on tying him up.

The question is: with what? You have no reason to keep ropes casually lying around the tower and one glance at his bulging biceps assures you that sewing thread will not be enough either.

As you’re thinking about stuffing him back into the wardrobe until you come up with a better idea, the blond strands at the edge of your peripheral catch your eye. For the first time in your life, your excessively long hair proves to be of use.

When he is tightly restrained to the armchair, your tresses acting like a straitjacket around his torso and snaking around his legs, you step back to appreciate your work. Your eyes drift over his corded muscles and roam over his face once again.

Before you let yourself get lost in his model-like features, your free hand reaches out, palm outstretched, to slap him across the face.

You nurse the stinging pain ebbing atop your outermost layer of skin, cradling the appendage to your chest as you hiss out a low whine, although the sound is masked by the low timbre of a groan. Your body stiffens while you gawk at the stranger, watching him gather his surroundings, whipping his head back and forth before his chestnut orbs land on you.

Your grip on the handle of the pot tightens.

“Wha—”

“No! Uh, I mean, hush!” you exclaim, deepening your voice for a rather weak, intimidating effect. “I’m doing the talking here.”

Your breath gets caught in your throat before you can utter another word. His doe eyes bore into yours and you step back, instantly feeling threatened by the intensity of his gaze. He wriggles around in his restraints, testing his extremely limited range of motion.

A prolonged, slightly awkward, silence stretches in the air as you attempt to recall the interrogation questions you practiced while tying him up. Regrettably, you come up blank.

He rolls his eyes at your lack of speech, raising a single brow.

“Well?” he questions, seemingly accepting his lack of free movement and slouching comfortably against the back of the chair. “I thought you said you were gonna do the talking?”

You grit your teeth at his impertinence, shaking off the nerves of talking to another human being that was not your mother as you adorn a superficial, bold facade. Striving to exude the same persuading tone that all those mystery books depicted, you mimic the slow strides you’ve read detectives take around their suspects.

“How did you find me?” You round the corner to escape his unimpressed glare, circling around him.

In turn, he cranes his neck to peer over at you, bewilderment written in the slack of his jaw. “Find you? Who says I was looking for you?” He whistles lowly catching sight of your mane, “That’s some hair you got there. Is that what’ve you tied me up with?”

A scoff escapes your lips, unconvinced at his act.

“Oh yeah?” you challenge, marching back to the front of the chair to dramatically slam your hands down onto his bound wrists, effectively halting his faint wriggling. “Then why did you come all the way up here, huh?”

The dashingly handsome stranger’s tongue prods at his cheek, serving to rile you up further. Taking his sweet time, he inspects the space around him before his focus comes back to you, and he leans in, smirking devilishly. “Sure as hell wasn’t for you, Princess.”

At the odd nickname combined with the close proximity, a flush tints your cheeks and you take a few steps back. He chuckles at his small victory—a deep, melodic sound that sends your flustered state into a muddled craze of butterflies, threatening to burst from within. You purse your lips and narrow your eyes at the man, more so to collect yourself than to unnerve him.

“Got something in your eye?”

You tilt your head back and grumble, exasperated at his lack of cooperation followed by his audacity to tease you further. “For your information, my eyes are working perfectly fine.”

“Good for you. Now, if you’ll just untangle me and give me back my bag, I’ll be out of your hair. Literally.” He grins at his joke, which you don’t find quite as funny.

“Like I’ll believe that.” You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. “I’ll ask you again. How exactly did you find me?”

“As I said, Princess,” he jeers, his impatience made visible by the bulging veins lining his neck, “why would anybody be after your poor ass? I mean, just looking at the place, doesn’t look like you’ve got much else other than a bunch of hidden property and a shitty old tower.”

“Shitty?” You repeat, accosted at the stranger’s portrayal of the place you grew up.

He takes another look around the place as if to confirm his accusations before curtly nodding his head.

You glower at his blunt words, taking personal offence for the many hours you spent decorating, cleaning and doting over the building. “Well, I didn’t know we were expecting a rude guest. Then again, guests are invited inside, aren’t they?”

“Listen, you seem like the ditzy type, so I’ll keep this short and sweet. I got into a bit of a scuffle with some scoundrels and before I knew it, I was outnumbered!” he recounts slowly and melodramatically as if he is presenting a bedtime story to a child. “Then I stumble through some vines and find this gigantic tower!

“And to my surprise, rather than hidden treasure, this place has some naive, pan-wielding maniac at the top,” he concludes with a sigh, soundlessly implying that you should pity the unfortunate situation he stumbled upon—the unfortunate bit caused by your interference. All you feel is a burning itch to sock him across the face again, although that wouldn’t be too helpful in discovering his real objective.

His whole story sounds like pure bologna to you, but you feed into his obvious lies with a hum of acknowledgement. “Must’ve been so hard for you.”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” he whines, a pout forming on his pink lips.

You flash a close-lipped smile and thrust the metal weapon centimetres from his nose with more force than intended, though it seems to do the job when you catch his eyes widen slightly before reverting to the same relaxed stare as before. His posture is evidently tenser than a few seconds ago, which builds your pliant determination.

“Either some truths are gonna come out of that smart mouth or you’re gonna take another nap,” You threaten, waving the pan back and forth.

“Okay, easy now.” The stranger bends his hands upwards by the wrists, waving his fingers down slowly, as though he were calming a raging bull. “There’s no violence needed in this okay? We can make a deal.”

The sound of his cooperation piques your interest, so you inquire, “What kind of deal?”

“First of all, can you lower that?” You comply with his request, although you keep the skillet in the air, ready to strike at a moment's notice if he tries anything funny. “Okay, Princess, how about you give me the satchel, let me go without any trouble and I won’t tell anyone about your little hideout here, hm?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m the one with the upper hand here.” If you two are to come to a compromise, you’re going to need more from the stranger than his word to keep quiet. “And I need you to take me to see the lanterns at the capital.”

A hacking cough morphs into a distorted chuckle in his throat. “Hm, you see, that would be a bit difficult considering the rocky relationship I have with the royals.”

You cock your head to the side, raising the metal menacingly.

His fists curl into balls as a strained grin stretches across his face. “But I guess we could make it work.”

Pleased with his compliance, you continue with your conditions, “You take me to see the lanterns tomorrow night, bring me back home in one piece and I’ll give your bag back. Then you can jump out of the window for all I care, just keep your mouth shut about this place.”

“Do I even have a choice in the matter?”

“Nope.” His lack of protest makes you giddy, and you allow yourself to credulously overestimate your influence over the man. It has to be that or your frightening frying pan, right?

“Then what’re we waiting for?”

A childlike wonder brightens your countenance as you speedily unravel your locks from around the stranger, whipping the bulk of it over the hook and out the window. With his newfound freedom, you catch him combing through miscellaneous trinkets and in fear of him identifying the location of his bag, you call out, “There’s no use, you could ransack the whole tower and never find your precious satchel. You’re better off fulfilling our agreement.”

Fitting your trusty skillet under your arm, you don’t spare him another glance and hope that your bluff is enough to deter his scouring. Thankfully, the clattering of objects ceases and he saunters past the vase with his dear bag inside. Your attention flits to the verdant scenery below.

You allow an exuberant screech to rip through your vocal cords while you effortlessly fly down, your body wrapped around your hair as though the strands have solidified into a firepole and land on the plush, vibrant grass with a bounce. The prickly sensation on your bare skin is not what you imagined the spindly plant to feel like, yet you revel in its oddities nonetheless.

Your companion follows along with less flair, steadily climbing down using the two arrows that were left between the stones. By the time he reaches the ground, you’re already feeling the consequences of sticking your bare feet in the mud by a river.

He rolls his eyes at your antics and darts off while you tread toward the water to wash off the muck between your toes. You swish your foot back and forth, watching the current run off with the dirt and avoiding the miniature fish that gather around you. Their bright orange bodies are stark against the rocks underneath, easy to spot due to the clear, crystalline stream that you’re splashing around in.

When one of them decides to start nipping at your ankles and the rest of his posse tag along, you wade deeper—searching for a grassy area to withdraw from their persistent suckling. As you’re scouring the landscape, enjoying the slight breeze blowing through your hair, you find yourself alone.

This doesn’t bother you at first, used to the notion of having only your own inner thoughts as company. You’re preoccupied with rinsing the brown stains that mark one section of your tresses and gather the clean, soaked mass into your arms before you realize that the tour guide you recruited has gone missing.

At first, you can’t believe he abandoned the precious crown that he appeared to cherish so greatly, but before you can think too deeply about it, a light smack meets the nape of your neck.

“Looking for me, Princess?”

“Stop calling me that,” you whip around, a glare directed at his triumphant smirk. “And where were you anyway? Not trying to run off already, are we?”

He raises his hands up as though he has been caught red-handed, although his digits are curled around what looks to be strips of tree bark and long strands of weeds. Just as you’re about to question him further, he crouches down and grabs one of your ankles, lifting your leg out of the water and closer to him. You yelp and shift your weight to rest on your other foot.

“What?” He secures a few layers of the rough wood to the sole of your foot, wrapping the flexible plants around the bark and expertly tying it at the top. “This is what I get for being considerate isn’t it?”

“Is considerate even part of your vocabulary?” you tease, the relief at his presence causing you to lower your guard.

He freezes halfway through fastening the second makeshift shoe onto your other foot when the orbs staring up at you light up with mischief. Changing position, he folds forwards then rocks back to stand up to his full height. “Ah, I see how it is. Then I would never do something so thoughtful, right?”

“I take it back! I take it back, just finish it up,” you beseech.

“That’s what I thought, Princess.” He bends over to complete the second knot then scampers off to the forest as soon as the job is complete.

As you test out the peculiar slippers—inwardly marvelling at the barrier they provide against the elements of nature—you vocalize your displeasure with the nickname he has taken to calling you, “I thought I told you not to call me that.”

His strides ease up from his hurried pace, shortening to compensate for your smaller steps. “Aw, does Princess dislike being reminded of who she is?”

“I’ve never heard of a Princess living outside of a castle before.”

He hums, tilting his head in wonder. “Is your tower not considered a castle?”

“Not when I’m the only one living there,” you mutter under your breath, although you’re not sure if he catches it or not based on his silence. Regardless, you change the subject before he has a chance to respond. “So are you gonna tell me your name or what?”

Sneaking a peek at his side profile, you catch the endearing crinkle that appears by his eyes when he grins. “What’s with the sudden interest? I mean, I understand the enthusiasm but—”

You strike his elbow with the bottom of the skillet and he whines like a kicked puppy.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I just thought we should be on a first-name basis if we’re going to be travelling all this way together.” You amuse yourself by twirling the skillet around in your grip, acting as though there’s a gigantic pancake that you professionally flip onto its other side. “I would prefer my name over ‘Princess.’”

“I kinda like the ring of it though.” He winks at you, but you’re too invested in your cooking charades to notice. “You can call me Geum.”

“Geum? Like ‘gold’? What kind of name is that?”

“Ooh, someone’s judgemental.” Snatching the pan, he brandishes it around like a deadly cutlass in a seasoned pirate’s hand, bounding around you. He ends his show with the tip aimed straight at your heart.

“Just saying. You’ve got to admit it’s a bit… unique.” You halfheartedly brush him off, fighting to keep your grin from showing. As a side note, you announce your name.

“Whatever you say, Princess.”

Before he can prance off, you pluck the skillet out of his grasp and tear through the dense bushes with your treasure. His war cry echoes throughout the expansive woodlands as he rushes after you, untangling your hair from lone branches as he goes.

To claim that your feet are about to fall off is a gross understatement.

You have been travelling alongside Geum for hours now without a single break. Despite the high spirits that you two kicked your trip off with, the elation from brushing against the silky plants, cooing at the wildlife that crossed your path, and inhaling the fresh scent of damp moss and wet tree trunks from yesterday’s showers wore off quickly.

You’re inclined to believe that your enthusiasm began to subside when Geum yanked you away from running your finger along one set of rich emerald leaves—narrowly avoiding what he explained to be poison ivy. Your curious hands have been cemented to your sides ever since that close encounter.

After your lively bickering dies down, rather than a peaceful, quiet walk, listening to the whispers of the wind and the pleasant chirping of the birds, the antsy man beside you puts you on edge. He can’t stop looking from side to side, trying to peer past the endless birches and elms that obscure your view.

Is Geum expecting someone?

Perhaps some parts of his story are true. Perhaps having a ruffian with other delinquents hunting him is not the best partner to accompany you on this journey—not that you have much of a choice in the matter, it’s either him or no one. You’re unsure which option is worse.

Any conversation you strike is met with teasing remarks, so you give up on prodding him for any substantial information. But with the sky darkening and the breeze turning brisk, you’re about to mention camping out somewhere when Geum says, “We should settle down for the night.”

“I never thought I would agree with something that came out of your mouth.”

“That’s why you’re wrong most of the time.” And there it was, another snotty retort that practically begs you to deck him with the pan you keep tucked in your underarm.

The quibble ignites a fire under your skin, the flames licking at your sides and providing some warmth amidst the chill in the air. “Most of the time? So you’re saying that you’re wrong sometimes?”

“Yeah, nobody can always be right.” He flashes a lazy smirk your way, adjusting the bundle of your locks in his arms. “Like when I said that your hair isn’t an inconvenience.”

You take a second to process his snarky words. With your mind occupied, stuck in a whirlwind of potential reprisals, you unintentionally head towards the distant outline of the castle when you approach a crossroad branching in two opposite directions.

Just as you’re about to let loose a nasty quip, his warm hand wraps itself around your wrist, dragging you away from the faraway mansion. You overheat at the source of the touch, thoughts going haywire.

“Hey, hey!” In hopes of snapping him out of his reverie, you raise your voice. “You can’t blow off our deal now, don’t you want your precious satchel back?”

When he offers no explanation for his cryptic actions, you attempt to pry off his fingers with your other hand—making sure not to trip over your own two feet while you’re at it. Your wriggling is all for nought because Geum’s iron grip is too durable to be outmatched by your fumbling digits.

“Geum, please just,” you plead, ceasing your struggle when the delicate skin in his grasp begins to sting from his strength, “let’s talk about this, okay?”

You’re so preoccupied with regaining your freedom that you don’t notice the dingy sign you two pass; a rubber duck with the words The Snuggly Duckling etched onto the wood. “Shut up and hurry.”

Your jaw drops at his insolent tone, astounded at his change in demeanour. There’s no playful spirit behind his words this time, only a sharp annoyance accompanied by his sudden haste that you feel all too strongly in your wrist. You stumble after him and duck your head through a small doorway, your mind caught up in formulating a coherent response that consists of sounds other than your outraged sputtering.

“Don’t tell me to—”

You’re cut off by the ruckus inside the establishment. Burly men surround the two of you, drinking, howling in laughter, practicing their aim with throwing knives—there’s even a large group of people fighting in one corner. The amount of blood streaked across the walls, their clothes, and pouring out of their open wounds is concerning. You can smell the metallic tang from the entrance.

When the hand around your wrist disappears, you find yourself yearning for the physical connection, serving as some kind of reassurance that he is not leaving you to the metaphorical, and sort of literal, wolves before you. In order not to lose Geum as he wades through the crowds, you latch on to the thin hem of his shirt. He pays you no mind and continues onward.

Skillfully slipping through the giants while you bumble behind him, you two arrive at a row of vacant barstools. You loosen your grip at the unexpectedly tranquil space, such a drastic contrast to the commotion in the background that it’s like you’ve been transported to another place altogether.

You’re brought back to reality from the loud grunt that booms throughout the joint, although you tune out again when you hear a punch being thrown, then a crack that you can only hope isn’t a bone. Or two.

“Uh, Geum?” you ask, although he pays your appellation no mind. His attention is focused on the intimidating, tattooed man behind the counter.

“Joon.” Your unofficial tour guide takes a seat. “A mead?”

Determined to stick close to the only familiar face in the building, you slide onto the seat next to Geum. The overwhelming scent of liquor hits you hard, causing you to crinkle your nose the exact moment that your narrowed eyes spot the bartender, Joon, awkwardly cough into his fist, trying to stifle his snickers for your sake.

“Just a water for her.”

While Joon confirms Geum’s order with a slight nod, you cast your head down to stare at your twiddling fingers. Your mind is still reeling from the abrupt change in scenery, unsure how to carry yourself in this new setting. It was no problem in the dense forest, with only Geum to judge you—but it isn’t like you’re trying to impress him anyway.

In here where hordes of broad men are gathered, drunk out of their minds with crimson staining their attire, you’re scared. Everything is too raucous, too rancid, too overwhelming. You’re uncertain whether the trip to the capital will play out as you’ve imagined and you turn towards Geum to tell him as much when—

“Was this from me?” You instinctively flinch at his tug on your elbow, although regret rushes down your back, clawing against your spine like ice-cold water when hurt flashes across his shadowed orbs. Before you can blink, it’s gone.

As a feeble apology, you offer a tightlipped smile. Referring back to his words, you examine your arm and grimace when you spot the blooming scarlet streaks encircling your wrist, taking the shape of Geum’s slender digits. “Oh, uh, don’t worry. It’ll fade.”

It’s not a lie since the marks will eventually fade. You hope it doesn’t turn black and blue before that though.

A clear glass is thrust your way, which you’re overjoyed to snatch from Joon’s hand, noting Geum’s copper liquor from the corner of your eye. Hours of travelling without any form of hydration definitely took its toll on you, evident by your severely chapped lips that you can’t help but swipe your tongue over every minute—not that the dried saliva is doing you any favours.

Before you have a chance to sip from heaven in liquid form, you’re halted by a gentle finger tracing the length of your forearm. Thankfully, you’re not as skittish this time around, remaining frozen until Geums pulls back; the pale, discoloured scar he was following having tapered off into your natural skin. “Where’s that one from?”

His strange inquiry confuses you with its unusually intrusive nature considering his inability to chat seriously five minutes ago. You pause for a second to debate on revealing the truth or constructing a comical narrative for the sake of avoiding a sombre turn to the light conversation. Despite your decision, your lips rebel, taking on a mind of their own. “A punishment.”

Bronze orbs snap up to yours, boring into the deepest parts of your soul and uncovering each of your secrets one by one as if they’re gems, buried within the layers of your lonely childhood. You’re transfixed. “Mother said it would remind me to never leave the tower.”

The condensation running down the side of the chilled cup meets the edge of your palm, sliding down your index finger and becoming a stark reminder of your parched mouth. You lift the glass to take a sip, but a taste renders your control inoperative as you guzzle down the rest, leaving not a single drop inside.

Your famished stomach makes itself known with a growl when your thirst is quenched. Attracting the attention of the bartender with a small wave, you ask, “Is there any chance you’ve got some food here?”

“We’ve got anything as long as you’ve got the coin for it, blondie.”

You shudder in alarm at the introduction of another patron in the bar. Leaning away from the repulsive drawl to your left, you shift over to position yourself as far away as possible. Seeing your discomfort, the stranger takes a few steps forward to invade your personal space once more and you recoil back with a jerk of your torso.

The abrupt motion messes with your centre of gravity, tipping you over the edge of the barstool. Just as you’re about to have an unpleasant meeting with the floor, a palm darts out to the small of your waist and steadies you. You follow the arm up to Geum’s clenched jaw.

“She’s not looking for anything that you guys can offer.”

Your throat tightens at your companion’s harsh answer, wary of how the other men will react. The burly man to your other side bursts out in obnoxious laughter and a glint of light reflecting off of his silver teeth catches your eye, which you recognize from earlier. He’s one of the goons that was involved in the fistfight near the entrance.

“As if you’re packing anything better.” He nudges his lackeys behind them and they chuckle along like they’re all in on one big joke.

“It’s not hard to top a baby carrot.”

Panicked at his provocation, you glimpse at the challenging smirk plastered across Geum’s lips. You aren’t sure why he’s trying to pick a fight or if there’s any logical reasoning behind his actions at all, but you tap on the arm still attached to your torso, conveying your opinion on his moronic pride with your widened eyes.

Of course, men will be men, and the little posse arranged behind the silver toothed boss riles their leader up, encouraging him with disgruntled yells and unintelligible speech to prove their dominance. With you in between the two blockheads, you’re sure that you’re not going to like how this plays out.

Dismissing your distress, Geum takes a sip of his drink. He seems unbothered by the commotion surrounding him and you envy his nonchalant demeanour.

“You got any bite behind your bark, pretty boy?” His lackeys change tactics, switching over to goading Geum on. You assume their greater numbers spark their courage, reassured that they could overpower one man. “Or are we just trying to impress this little miss right here?”

“I’m not sure if it’ll be very fair for you guys,” Geum says cockily, scrutinizing each member from head to toe then returning to his sweet mead. “I mean, just looking at you boys, doesn’t look too impressive if you ask me.”

If the atmosphere didn’t thicken with a fatal tension, you would have giggled at his smart mouth. But the other man’s nostrils flare in resentment, beginning to surge forward before he’s interrupted by a spindly boy who thrusts a paper below his nose. “Boss, you were right, it’s him.”

His unsightly features twist upwards in joy, displaying his horrendous set of chompers once more as he chuckles. That’s when you realize that a sinister smile can be much more frightening than any bellow of rage. “Looks like you’ve got quite the bounty on your head there, Geum.”

At the snarl of his name, your eyes dart to the wrinkled sheet in his hand which he graciously flips to face your direction. An uncanny depiction of Geum’s face is drawn, a sum containing many zeroes painted underneath his name. What appalls you the most is the red, bolded letters at the very top, distinctly spelling out wanted.

Geum is a wanted criminal.

While your mind is reeling, sight blurring and breath quickening from the influx of information, the man in question unabashedly finishes off the last of his alcoholic beverage and proceeds to slam the glass onto the counter. Through all of the clamour, you pick up Joon’s exasperated sigh in the background.

The door to the establishment flings open, hinges creaking as the wood bounces back from the sheer force of the blow. While everyone is distracted by the bustle, Geum stealthily hops off his seat, slipping an arm around your waist to soundlessly lead you to the other side of the counter. Although you’re reluctant to follow, you refrain from squabbling with him in order not to attract any unwanted attention.

“We’ve received a report that a well-known thief has been spotted in the premises—”

Geum kneels in front of the shelves lined with drinks of all shapes and colours, fiddling with something you can’t see from your position behind him. Following his lead, you crouch behind him, softly muttering in disbelief, “You really think they won’t find us hiding here?”

A click is heard as a few of the racks cave in on themselves, revealing a concealed passageway. Geum shakes his head towards the opening, silently directing you to enter first. You’re hesitant to accompany him any farther but you’re pushed forwards by Joon’s calf on your back and you understand that you don’t have much of a choice in the matter anymore.

If you’re caught now, you’ll be accused of being an accomplice to whatever crimes Geum committed.

You spare a thankful nod to Joon, stealing a glance at the guards blocking the entrance while you’re at it. Their white uniforms are decorated with accents of bright oranges and reds, a familiar flower fastened to the right side of their chest. One of them holds another copy of Geum’s wanted poster which you tear your gaze from, willing yourself to escape from this mess before thinking about anything else.

Geum shoves you through the opening, and you crawl through the underground passage as fast as you can in order to keep his pinching fingers away from your ankles. You two are far enough to safely whisper short phrases to one another, but he insists on being a nuisance as he urges you to pick up the pace.

It’s pitch black when the trapdoor shuts behind Geum, and you’re unable to make out your own hands in front of your face; with no other path in sight, you blindly head forward. As you continue, you pass torches burning with a bright fire that provide light, illuminating the stones around you and the shadows following you. You wonder how often this underground system is used to have fire running at all times.

Eventually, the tunnel’s height expands enough for the two of you to comfortably tread through on your feet. If you weren’t tired enough from walking for hours on end, the brutal jog which Geum sets is more than enough to tire you out within mere minutes.

“Geum,” you heave, unable to catch your breath with your chest fruitlessly rising and falling, never passing enough air for you to gather your senses. He’s too far to catch, effortlessly sprinting ahead, yet you still uselessly reach out to capture his attention. “Geum.”

You push yourself to the limit, another few minutes passing by before your powerless body can no longer handle the stress of the strenuous activity, and you slow down, coming to a full stop. One hand on the rocky wall steadies your dizzying sight as you hunch over, throat burning and stomach aching. Even though you try to remain standing, your legs involuntarily give out and you end up on the floor.

As you try to regain your breath, hands grasp your shoulders and gently shake you back to reality. Geum’s intense gaze is only centimetres away, torso bent to level with you. “You can do this, come on. We have to lose them.”

“I,” you huff, “I can’t… It’s… too much.”

Geum’s arms return to his sides, his brows furrowing as you watch the gears whirring in his head through your blurry vision. When he spins around to face the exit, you cry out in a hoarse voice, believing that he’s leaving your pathetic, crumpled form to fend for yourself—but instead of running off, he crouches to the ground with his backside to you. “Get on.”

In spite of your resolute will to arise from your folded position, your legs can’t seem to extend outwards in order to climb onto his back, which you convey by tapping his shoulder and pitifully shaking your head. Geum’s lips pry apart to respond, but his words are drowned out by the pounding footsteps that echo throughout the tunnel walls. He curses under his breath as he turns and scoops your fetal form into his arms.

All you can register is his natural woody scent enveloped in the sweaty musk that drenches his frame, your body clutched tightly to his torso as he races to the end of the tunnel. You grip his thin shirt in one fist, unfamiliar with the warmth fluttering in your chest, so you brush it off as another side effect from the arduous sprinting.

A bright light can be seen at the very end, but your eyes are locked on the well-defined jaw of the man carrying you as if you were as light as a feather, running as if your lives depended on it—which they kind of do.

You couldn’t differentiate the pounding of Geum’s shoes from the mob of guards pursuing you two. As you slowly recover from your exhausted state, the guilt of becoming a burden settles into the creases of your face, worrying lines etching onto your features from thinking about your impending fate.

Your thoughts wander to the reasoning behind this violent chase. By the fancier uniforms they sport, you suspect their position to be rather high, perhaps palace guards or ones belonging to the royal family. Reminded of the wanted poster clutched within one of their hands, the image stirs unease within the depths of your stomach that’s already stinging from the massive amounts of cardio you’ve done today.

Before you can connect any dots, you’re out in the wilderness again, although instead of the sun’s blazing rays on your face, the moon’s tender beams spill over your surroundings. The sort of serenity that accompanies the stillness of the later hours are interrupted by your rapidly beating heart, which is amplified by the pulse felt on your left side.

After a few more strides, Geum comes to a sudden halt.

“What’s wrong?” You tilt your neck to look at his face in curiosity. Although he doesn’t appear fatigued, his cheeks only slightly flushed from exertion and a few sweat droplets racing down his temples, you ask anyway, “Are you tired?”

The grip under your legs lower you to the ground and you stand in front of Geum, beginning to worry about losing your advantage over your pursuers. He doesn’t provide a verbal response to your questions, simply shaking his head and causing the tips of his hair to sway back and forth with the motion. The strands cover his eyes when he stops, but he doesn’t bother to brush them aside.

Geum’s shoulders slouch, heavy from the weight of defeat. You’re unnerved at his strange actions, turning to look ahead at the obstacle that’s forcing him to give up all hope.

You two are standing at the edge of a cliff.

Your knees buckle at the length of the drop, which seems never ending from your viewpoint. The tenebrous shadows of the night obscure the bottom, painting the jagged walls with uncertainty at any chance for survival. Your heart constricts as the despondency emanating off of Geum slithers its way into your rapidly diminishing resolution.

“When they get here,” he announces, bravery shining through his firm tone, “I need you to run as fast as you can. I’ll distract them, just focus on getting back to the bar. Tell Joon to take you somewhere safe and trust no one but him.”

You’re baffled at his complete change in attitude as well as his idiotic plan. There’s no trace of humour in his piercing orbs though, simply an obstinate determination that implores you to obey his orders. But you aren’t about to abandon the first friend you’ve ever made. “Are you insane? What do you think you can do against trained soldiers?”

“There’s no other choice.” He nudges your torso to position yourself behind him, both your backs to the cliff, watching the guards get closer and closer. Dread weighs ponderously on your limbs, the adrenaline pumping in your veins with every footstep marching to surround you two. You’re cornered.

The soldier closest to Geum unsheathes his sword and steadily approaches. You slip the rusty pan into his hand and he inconspicuously reaches back to pat your thigh, reminding you of his reckless scheme.

Seeing your defensive stance, the guard rushes forward, thrusting his sword forward to slice through layers of skin. Instead, the clang of metal against metal resounds throughout the empty cliff and your apprehension increases tenfold with your front row seat to Geum’s doomed duel, fending off a glinting sword with your rickety skillet.

Although he’s fighting well considering his enormous handicap, you spot more soldiers creeping their way into the skirmish, unable to stand and watch one of their own be bested in battle. Overall, the odds weren’t looking too great for your pan-wielding knight.

You have to do something. With Geum’s plan off the table, you can’t think of anything other than taking your chances with the cliff. You gather all your faith in the landscape, Geum, and yourself while taking a deep breath. Waiting for an opening within the clash, you cautiously inch towards Geum and when one particularly hard blow jolts both men back a few steps, you snatch up the opportunity.

Before another guard can take his ally’s place, you rush over to snake an arm around Geum’s lithe waist, tugging his back to meet your chest. During this process, he nearly elbows you in the face, writhing around in your tight hold until he recognizes your delicate hands on his stomach.

With the enemy frozen in confusion at your ostensibly desultory actions, you take advantage of their shock to stumble backwards, proving harder than necessary due to Geum’s long legs tangling with your own as you head towards the edge. You’re nearly there when one of the guards pick up on your plan to escape, jumping into action with his razor-sharp sword and waving it in a deadly arc that nearly slices both of your heads off clean.

Thankfully, you lose your footing on a slippery rock and tip over.

While airborne, any air is momentarily robbed from the heavy drop in your gut and a terrified shriek rips past your mouth as you lose your tight grip on Geum, utterly absorbed in your fear. The distance between you two grows, but because of his quick reflexes, Geum is able to fist a clump of your clothes in his hands and pull you into his chest with one hand resting on the nape of your neck.

You don’t have enough time to react to the new position before both your bodies are enveloped in gelid water. All of your nerves fire off, enraged at the sudden change in temperature. A violent shiver overtakes your limbs in a weak attempt to warm yourself up.

Although Geum’s palm on your neck withdraws to wade your bodies back up to surface, the grip around your middle only tightens.

The stream parts as you two float back up to meet the chilly air, greedily filling your lungs as you unravel from one another in order to paddle your way to shore. The current sweeps you along, aiding your furious efforts to reach the ground again.

Geum arrives at the muddy grass before you, swiftly lifting himself out and turning to fish for your soaked form. White puffs of your breath escape your mouths because of the low temperature, yet they dissipate as quickly as they’re formed.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” You close your eyes and nod. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

The fire crackles alongside the chirping crickets, forming a peculiar orchestra with the breeze blowing through the rustling leaves. You extend your frigid digits as close to the flames as you dare, desperate for its warmth, yet recoiling from the sting of its heat all the same.

“Might as well stick your whole hand in there while you’re at it.” Geum emerges from the tenebrous thickets of the forest, making his way into the dull glow of the bonfire with a bundle of skinny twigs in his arms.

You’re drained from the day’s events, but you flash him a smile brimming with gratitude, appreciative that he’s intent on keeping the fire alive despite his inevitably numb appendages. You insisted on swapping turns, allowing his body to warm up a bit while you scavenged for wood, although he dismissed your offer multiple times, claiming that moving around was much more effective for him than any flames.

You’d have to disagree with him there. The burning fire feels incredible heating up your skin from the outside in.

“If you take a second to come and enjoy the warmth, then maybe you wouldn’t be so moody,” You jest, rotating the fish skewers that Geum expertly caught in the river with a sharpened branch. By the slightly burnt edges, you suppose it’s ready. “C’mon, let’s eat before you head off again.”

He grunts his affirmation, depositing his findings on top of the ever-growing pile of wood and taking a seat on a fallen log located a couple of feet away from you. You allow the meat to cool down before separating the fish from the stick it’s impaled on and passing it to him.

“Is your hair dry yet?” He’s too preoccupied with forcibly ripping the fish in half to avoid scaling it, so he doesn’t catch your affectionate, lingering gaze.

You hum, grabbing a lock of your wet strands. “Not quite.”

He places his meal next to him on the log and leans over to take the bulk of your tresses in his grasp. You watch as he lays the blonde strands near the fire, quietly giggling at his strange logic.

“You think the heat is going to make it dry faster?” The appearance of his wide grin elicits the return of the bizarre tightening in your chest, a crushing pain that makes it difficult to breathe. You haven’t had a bite of the fish but nausea swirls in your stomach as your hands turn clammy and you rip your eyes away from Geum in hopes of collecting yourself.

Seeing your doubt towards his surely infallible rationale, his brows scrunch together and he pauses his movements in his perplexity, a distant look swirling in his eyes. He should be completely unaware of the turmoil raging within you, yet all your previous worries dissipate with the smoke of the fire as his face becomes increasingly wrinkled, flashing an expression more ludicrous than the last.

After you beg and plead with him to stop, cheeks aching from smiles and belly throbbing from laughter, he breaks out into his own set of snickers. More than satisfied, Geum grabs his fish again and begins to nibble on the meat inside. “You never considered getting a trim?” he asks between bites.

A few seconds pass as you calm yourself down from your hysterical state. “Never allowed to,” you answer, short and vague to keep the pleasant atmosphere.

“Allowed to?” His voice is laced with his astonishment. “Who’s telling you what to do at your age?”

Fidgeting with your own skewer, you ponder over an answer that’s precise enough to satisfy his curiosity, yet obscure enough to conceal your identity at the same time. Your eyes dart from side to side, following the light of the fire as it illuminates a wet, crimson stain on the sleeve of Geum’s jacket.

“What’s that?” you question, scuttling over to his log and sitting down next to him. To get a better look, you grab his elbow and pull it towards you.

“Nothing. Don’t change the subject.” He tries to shrug off both your concern and your hand that’s clutching onto his arm, which only makes you tighten your grip. At the increase in pressure, a low groan slips past his lips and you instantly release your hold at the sound.

“Does it hurt?” The memory of the guard wildly slashing his sword in the air comes to mind and you realize that although the blow didn’t cost either of your lives, his upper arm must have borne the brunt of the force instead.

“It’s fine.” He attempts to brush you off again, but you’re as clingy as a leech and refuse to budge from his side.

You latch on to the lapel of his jacket and tug. “Take it off.”

Despite your solemnity, his low chuckle sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. “Already asking me to strip? I’m not that easy, Princess. How about you take me on a date first and I’ll think about your offer?”

“You know what I mean,” you grumble, exasperated that he persists on maintaining his incessant teasing while injured.

When he finishes cleaning off one half of his meal, about to reach for the other, you move to stand in front of him. You dismiss the wild pounding of your heart to focus on slipping his jacket off of his opposite arm.

He puts forth no effort to stop you, although he’s definitely not helping much with his limp, bulky appendages that are a lot heavier than expected. Slowly but surely, you tenderly thread his injured arm out of his sleeve with careful hands.

The white, short-sleeved shirt he’s sporting underneath makes it easy to spot the splotches of crimson dyeing the hem of his sleeve through the dim, orange light. You approach his laceration delicately, treating him like a frightened animal. He snorts at your earnest actions.

Lifting the fabric covering the entirety of the gash, you gasp softly at the depth of the wound, grimacing as though it’s your own limb that’s been hurt. “You shouldn’t be moving around with this, you’re not letting it heal.”

“I’ll endure any pain to keep you close,” he whispers, sweet honey dripping from his words as he loops his other arm around your waist, effectively pulling you in between his open legs.

His chin is a mere few centimetres from your belly button, gazing up at you with a flirtatious wink as he perches his hand onto your lower back. You hold your breath, worried that he can hear the utter chaos erupting within your chest due to the close proximity.

Flustered, you push at his broad shoulders, desperate for some room to breathe. Geum flinches at your touch and you instantly regret your thoughtless behaviour. Your concern at the severity of his wound multiplies tenfold, feeding into a disquiet that nestles into every cell in your body. “I’m serious, it doesn’t look good.”

One hand falls into his lap while the other comes up to ruffle his damp locks. “Don’t get shy now, Princess.”

Taking in the defeated slouch to his back, the distant glaze that darkens his bronze orbs, you think about your hair. You think about how much younger your mother appears after she detangles each strand. You think about all the scars you’ve avoided throughout the years by singing a simple tune.

This man saved your life, and it’s time for you to repay the favour. You consider waiting until he’s asleep to heal his arm, plagued by the distress of being mistaken as a witch. Mother warned you about those kinds of people, who are ready to ruin your life in order to improve their own—anything ranging from taking advantage of your unworldly qualities to selling you for a pretty penny.

Mother always knows best. Right?

You peer into his expressionless eyes that stare holes into the dancing flames, the other uneaten half of the fish still laying untouched. From the limited time you’ve spent together, you shouldn’t feel this distraught at his pain, as though a chunk of your heart is bleeding out with him and leaving you in a puddle of your own misery.

But one look at Geum’s laceration and even a child could tell that the relentless stream would end his life before long. No matter how well he can conceal his shallow, rapid breathing, you begin to make sense of his sweaty, pallid countenance that shreds any remaining skepticism you hold against him—dismissing the wariness brought about by those wanted posters.

“Geum.”

His eyelids shut close at your grave tone. “I know. It’s fine.”

At your hesitant tone, he sluggishly spares you a placid, tame smile. You hate it.

The Geum you’ve come to know is exuberant, taking all his hardships in stride with a sly smirk to boot. He’s brilliant, craftier than any artist, and resourceful even in the face of despondency. He’s compassionate, extending his own neck to save yours, always sympathetic to your plight.

This Geum is hollow, a shell of the person you knew.

The crushed downturn of his doe eyes doesn’t belong to his captivating features. You yearn to watch that classic, mischievous glint sparkle in his irises as he taunts you endlessly, testing how high your pulse can spark when he invades your personal space yet again.

You take a seat next to him. “No, uh,” you stammer, “I got a solution. You just can’t scream or freak out or anything, okay? Most importantly, you can’t tell anyone. Not a single soul.”

Before he can react to your cryptic warnings, you separate a lock of your hair, wrapping it around his wounded bicep. He raises a single brow at your strange antics but provides no further opposition. You’re pleased with the amount of trust he’s placed in you.

You close your eyes, and then you sing.

“Flower, gleam and glow Let your power shine,”

Starting from your roots, a golden glimmer races across the tresses of your hair. Bewildered, Geum recoils in his state of shock but remains rooted in his spot nonetheless.

“Make the clock reverse Bring back what once was mine,”

He follows the scintillating shimmer in your strands until he reaches the portion wrapped around his bicep. You absentmindedly wonder if he can feel his flesh reconstructing, cells dividing at a rapid rate to close the smooth gash.

“Heal what has been hurt Change the Fates' design Save what has been lost Bring back what once was mine,”

Your lids slide open to stare at his wide eyes, his jaw hanging ever so slightly. You’re glad to see that his previously pale complexion has given way to his natural, lively undertone.

“What once was mine.”

When the last notes fade out, eventually overpowered by the lone hoot of an owl, you gingerly untangle your hair from the shell-shocked man. Geum slaps his other hand over the healed skin, his head rapidly darting between examining his arm and making absurd facial expressions that convey his amazement. From his naturally cool composure, you treasure this rare moment of awe.

“Wha—”

Your stressed squeak halts him in his speech. “Please don’t freak out.”

“I’m not freaking out.” He looks like he’s trying to convince himself more so than you when he continues, “Not freaking out. What’s there to freak out about? I mean, magical healing hair? Completely normal.”

Your grin is filled with mirth at his nervous tone, and you lift his prodding digits from the site of the wound. Or at least where it used to be. “You feel okay?”

With all of your attention directed towards analyzing his healthy appendage, ensuring that your magic had not screwed up somewhere along the process, you miss Geum’s tender gaze roaming over every inch of your countenance. “Yeah, I guess I’m more than okay now.”

“I promise I’m not some kind of witch or anything like that. Just, uh, was just born with it,” you try to explain despite being in the dark about many of the nitty-gritty details yourself.

“Born with magical hair?”

You giggle at the absurdity of his question, although the validity remains true, it’s rather peculiar to hear it out loud. “Some of us are born with more talent than others. But that’s also why I can’t cut it,” you smile sheepishly, deciding to answer his earlier question now that your secret is out in the open.

“It turns brown and loses its magic.” You gather all your strands into one fist, pulling the mass to the side to expose the short, chestnut coloured strands underneath. You feel vulnerable and exposed with your neck out on display, sharing the fragility of your powers with a man you’ve known for less than twenty-four hours.

But it’s Geum, and he doesn’t feel like a stranger to you. “An overbearing mother is also part of the reason, but that’s a story for another time. Carrying it around can be heavy and the tangles can be brutal, but I guess it has its perks.”

He hums, stretching his torso to throw some twigs into the fire in hopes of enlarging the dwindling flames. “Yeah, I, uh…”

You stay silent, neither dismissing nor pressuring him into voicing his thoughts.

“My name isn’t actually Geum.”

A teasing smirk lifts the corner of your lips as you lean closer and nudge his arm. “You don’t say?”

He scoffs at your playful demeanour and pushes you back with one finger on your forehead. When your upper body is tilted away from him and your head is facing the starry night sky, he retracts his digit and speaks so softly that the noise is almost carried away by the wind. “It’s Jungkook.”

“Jungkook,” you test it out, matching the syllables to the face. It’s a bit strange after getting accustomed to associating him with the name ‘Geum,’ but in a way, it complements him better.

“Yeah.” He pauses and you shift your body to study him, memorizing the slopes and angles of his side profile. His orbs reflect the flickering fire, engulfing the newly added branches in its blaze. “I just thought somebody should know.”

“Is Geum your alias... for when you’re being a criminal?” Although you’re hesitant to delve into the subject, especially right after he’s begun to unveil his true identity, your curiosity outweighs reason and you can’t contain yourself. You can’t say that you’ve never questioned the diadem hidden in his satchel.

Crowns don’t belong to convicts who run from justice.

You wait for his answer with bated breath, unintentionally trapping your lower lip between your teeth in anticipation. Please, Jungkook.

“If you’re trying to ask what I did,” he hisses, knuckles turning white from his clenched fists, “Yeah, I stole it. Those assholes don’t deserve their riches.”

Jungkook’s jaw clenches, his anger radiating off him in waves. You wish you could eat your previous words because of how furious he’s become, but you’re committed to finishing the job. “Are you talking about the King and Queen?” Your brows pinch together in your discomfort. “Was that their crown?”

“This is your first time out of that tower, right?” You confirm his inquiry with a quick nod of your head. “How much do you know about the kingdom?”

“Jungkook—”

He tuts, fixing you with a strict glare. “Answer the question.”

“Well…” While recalling all the knowledge you picked up from your mother and the few historical books within your collection, you fiddle with a strand of your hair and organize your thoughts. “The castle is located in the middle of the capital, said to loom over the entire kingdom with its height. After it was rebuilt to accommodate more space for the Prince, everyone, from poets to milliners, cried over the beauty carved within those walls.”

He expels a deep sigh, causing you to question the legitimacy written in those pages you recited. “I asked about the kingdom, not the castle.”

His question leaves you dumbfounded. The information you collected over the years is limited to everything inside that grandiose, opulent building. There was nothing about the land, animals or even the common folk.

A gust blows the smoke of your little bonfire towards you, and you blink rapidly to avoid any soot from lodging itself into your eyes. Jungkook plucks a large leaf from one of the plants nearby, lazily fanning the fumes away. “That cozy castle and the royal family sitting on top of it all couldn’t care less about their people. They rake their luxuries from our hard work when even one jewel off that crown could feed hundreds.”

You process the cold truth in silence, a shiver overtaking your limbs in spite of the heat in front of you. “Is that why you stole it?”

“I don’t care if they want to plaster my face all over the kingdom and put a bounty on my head, I’m not going to stand around and watch people die from their greedy hands,” he states, proud and resolute.

You’re torn between the anguish nipping at your heels and the relief washing over your head. Living sheltered in that tower, you had no clue about the perils outside your own stone walls, is this what Mother was trying to protect you from?

However, discovering the true nature behind Jungkook’s crimes restores your faith in him, and your shoulders relax as you crane your neck to peer at the stars again. With your curiosity quenched, you move on to another question. “So, how many people get to call you Jungkook?”

He follows your example, leaning back and revelling in the breathtaking sight. “Nobody knows my real name, everyone calls me Geum.”

Your jaw drops a fraction from the admittance, feeling rather privileged that he chose to share it with you. “Your family calls you that too?”

“Don’t have any,” he brushes off your sympathetic gaze with a shrug.

“Why the name Geum?”

You catch his tiny, forlorn smile in your peripheral. “I grew up hearing all about the royal family’s massive parties, overflowing with family, friends—people. They were never lonely. And since they were parading their money around, I thought that was it, that was the secret.”

The dejected tone in his voice clogs your airways and makes it difficult to breathe, stunning your motionless form into remaining as still as a statue, the magnitude of his sorrow sweeping over you in fatal waves.

“And I hoped that maybe naming myself ‘gold’ might give me some luck with that.” With his shoulders downcast, his eyes flicker over to you, gauging your reaction.

You desperately wish you could turn back time to console the young boy whose heart was too big to fit inside his tiny body. Although he’s grown into it now, you strive to ease his suffering by even the slightest fraction. “I think ‘Jungkook’ is even better for making friends.”

The edges of his lips flip upwards as he navigates his face to halt directly right in front of your own, pressing one hand to the other side of your farthest thigh and caging you in. “Would you be my friend, Princess?”

All your blood rushes to your head, warming your cheeks. In a futile attempt to preserve any of your remaining dignity, you shrink back to maintain some distance. But his smirk grows at the sight of your shy response to his advances, his orbs flitting down to your pink lips before returning to your eyes. He looks absolutely ecstatic over your flustered state.

His hot breath fans over your lips and you gather any rational sense you have left inside your muddled brain to push him back, missing the split second his confident facade cracks and a sliver of insecurity shines through. It’s instantly replaced by a tight-lipped smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“No matter what you decide to call yourself, I’ll always be your friend.”

Seconds seem like hours as the two of you stare at each other, seeking to uncover the words left unsaid. Jungkook’s palms press against his knees, pushing off of them to come to a standing position and effectively ending your little moment. “I’m gonna go get some more wood.”

You nod, staring at his retreating backside that ventures into the adumbral forest once more. Even though the perpetrator of all these complex emotions is no longer within sight, you feel unsettled from the mere thought of him, yet your heart yearns for him all the same.

“Oh, Petal, I thought he would never leave!” A distinctly high-pitched cry rings out in the empty space, a voice which you didn’t expect to hear until at least tomorrow night.

Your head whips to the side to confirm your suspicions. “Mother?” Her dark figure emerges from the shadows and your heart drops to your stomach. You fumble for the right words, at a loss from her unexpected appearance. “How did you—”

“The better question is how could you, Petal?” she corrects, continuing to step into the light provided by the fire. The once comforting flames turn harsh, sharp pops bursting forth from the aggressive combustion. She lowers her hood to reveal the disappointment etched into her youthful features—and without fail, the sting of upsetting her burns through your conscience. “Really, how could you betray your own mother like this?”

You stand, determined to explain yourself, “Mother, he’s different from the monsters you told me about. If you get to know him, he’s sweet and caring and kind an-and he isn’t after my magic!”

“And that’s where you’re wrong, my naive, little Petal.” She tilts her chin up slightly, peering down at you. “Everyone is the same out here, all looking after themselves.”

You approach her within a few strides. “Mother, please listen to me, he’s different! Even though he puts on a tough front at times, he’s really considerate on the inside.” You fiddle with the tips of your fingers as you whisper the next part, “And I, uh, I think he might like me.”

The reaction you least expect is her startling outburst of laughter, powerful enough to fold her in half, and you wait for her giggles to quiet down before warily stepping forward. Your mother is acting awfully strange. “You think he likes you? And what makes you think that?”

You blanch at her ruthless words, wincing as though they assumed a physical form and punched you repeatedly in the gut.

Her maniacal snickers abruptly cease and a frown mars her lovely face once again, her expression one you recognized from previous reprimands, whether it was shattering a vase or begging to go outside. Your chin falls down to meet your chest, unable to muster up your faux bravery for any longer.

“I’m asking what gave you the idea that he would like some insolent, unsightly brat like you?”

You can’t open your mouth to respond, frozen in fear.

“Hm, what’s with the silence? You seemed so certain earlier, Petal. This is why you never should have left, look at this pitiful romance you’ve created,” she mocks, rounding your nervous form like a predator playing with their prey. “Let’s put him to the test then, shall we?”

Your head snaps up at her odd suggestion, eyes widening at the satchel she uncovers from behind her slim form. “You found it?”

She tosses the bag to you and you outstretch your arms—only to catch it a second too late. The bag drops to the floor and the flap flips open. You race to collect the sparkling crown that tumbles out, hastily shoving the diadem back inside before Jungkook wanders back, even turning towards the fire to ensure his continued absence.

“Why so scared?” your mother questions smugly, “I thought you said that he’s different from the rest of them?”

“He is!” you exclaim, rushing to defend him.

“Then give it to him, let’s see if he stays once he has the crown back in his hands. But don’t come crying back to Mother when he runs for the hills,” she snarls, lifting her hood over her short curls and withdrawing into the woods.

Your mind reels from your mother’s visit, but your concern lies with where to stash the leather satchel in your grasp. Dead leaves crunch under approaching footsteps and you examine your body, contemplating the best area for your idea.

Hiking the hem of your dress up to your stomach, you loop the strap of the bag through your left foot, twisting and repeating until it’s coiled around your ankle and the pouch snugly rests against your skin. You shimmy the satchel until the middle of your thigh where it refuses to go any higher.

Satisfied, you release your dress, smoothing the fabric down and confirming that nothing is suspiciously sticking out. You violently shake your leg back and forth to ensure there would be no future problems and sure enough, the straps tenaciously cling onto your thigh throughout all your testing.

“Hey, look what I found! He’ll definitely save us some travelling time tomorrow, but I don’t think he likes me much.”

Jungkook appears from the area your mother disappeared with an overwhelming pile of lumber in his arms. You stroll over to lessen the load, but he brushes you off and bypasses you to drop it beside the fire.

A white horse tromps along after him, trying to nip at the crown of his head while he shoos it away with a waving hand. The comical sight distracts you from the dreary thoughts of your mother, although the stiff strap wrapped around your leg forbids you from forgetting about it.

When you snap out of your reverie, Jungkook is cocking his head to the side at your unusually spacey behaviour.

You spare him a weak smile and shake your head.

Rather than sore feet, the next day your entire crotch is painfully numb from riding Maximus, the quirky horse who holds an obnoxious grudge against Jungkook for reasons unknown to you. While Max allows you to rub his cheeks, scratch his neck and run your fingers through his mane, he huffs if Jungkook so much as breathes too loudly.

Oddly enough, the stallion follows Jungkook around like a lost puppy despite his cold attitude. What is with males and their inability to show their appreciation for one another?

Jungkook insisted on being in front and taking hold of the reins even though Max refused to let him mount his back at first. After some caresses and loving words with the sweet animal, Max permitted you to hop on—which Jungkook was not pleased with. It was a nice change of pace to watch the ordinarily suave man lose his cool over a horse’s favouritism.

In the end, the only way Jungkook was allowed on was by sitting behind you, latching onto you for stability. The animosity growing between the two males adds to your amusement, so you remain unbothered by the hostile glares you can feel Jungkook throwing over your shoulder and the aggressive puffs of air that blow through Max’s nostrils every once in a while.

“Tell me how you found Max again?” Skepticism leaks into your tone, courtesy of Jungkook’s thieving habits.

You could practically feel his eyes roll back into his head as his arms tighten around your waist. His built torso is glued to your back, which repeatedly distracts you from the path ahead. “I told you that I was collecting some twigs off of the ground when this guy appeared out of nowhere! I was scared shitless.”

“You mean to say that someone accidentally lost their horse in the middle of the woods?” You glance sideways to peek at his chin, lodged into the crook of your neck. His face is merely a couple of millimetres from your own.

When he insisted on resting his head there, you had thoroughly embarrassed yourself with a flaming face, resembling a ripe tomato ready for the picking, coupled with your inability to enunciate any word properly. But after hours of his head smooshed against the side of your face or leaning against your upper back, you finally relax into his hold, finding comfort and safety in the appendages coiled tightly around you.

“Sounds plausible, doesn’t it?”

You scoff at the impish grin stretching across his cheeks at his own horrible excuse.

The castle comes into view in the ensuing half-hour, the imposing building no longer obstructed by the towering trees of the forest. Your spirits are dampened slightly by the cruel secrets Jungkook revealed yesterday night, although your giddiness at the prospect of living out your dreams makes you vibrate in excitement. You remind yourself that you’re here for the magical lights, not the castle.

The faint pounding against your back picks up speed for a reason drastically different to your own. He is essentially walking right into his own imprisonment—his wanted posters more than likely plastered across every flat surface inside the marketplace with soldiers littered around the premises. You gather the sturdy reins into one hand, freeing the other to hold Jungkook’s conjoined digits over your stomach.

Completely engrossed in Jungkook’s dilemma, neither of you notice Max racing into town until a screech pierces your ears. You apologize profusely for the spilled legumes that begin rolling away from the young woman, and you whip Max into trodding off before she curses you out.

Once you’re satisfied with the amount of space between yourselves and the unlucky woman, you tie Max’s reins to a nearby fence and race to join the festivities carrying on all around you. Spotting Jungkook’s unsure form lagging behind, you dart back to tug on his wrist, flashing him an encouraging smile before lugging him from one stall to another.

You don’t get far before you experience a sharp pain on your scalp. With the large amounts of people bustling around the tiny square, your hair is a tripping hazard that you try to quickly bunch up into your arms. Your hair is way too long to carry by yourself, so you turn to ask Jungkook for help, though he’s nowhere to be found.

Your mind races to the worst-case scenario. The guards must have caught sight of him, capturing him off guard while you were none the wiser and now he’s going to be hanged for his crimes all because you were too stupid to—

A couple of little girls with flowers decorating their braids physically yank you out of your trance, their tiny hands gathering your multitudinous strands and dragging you off to the side. You’re about to protest against their actions, more concerned over Jungkook’s whereabouts than anything, but after catching a glance of said man playfully waving at you from a few feet away, you allow yourself to be whisked away.

The three girls deftly move from left to right, taking locks of your hair with them as they knot it all into one humongous five strand braid. When you stand up to your full height, you’re amazed to see that none of your hair touches the ground. Considering the hefty weight that pulls at the back of your head, you know this solution can’t last too long.

They scatter various fresh flowers all over, the scent of the blossoms wafting around your figure. As you’re appreciating their handiwork, an arm wraps itself around the curve of your lower back, drawing you into a herculean chest while you blow air kisses filled with your gratitude to the snickering girls.

Jungkook maneuvers you into a narrow alleyway, and you get a chance to admire his glittering irises from up close.

“Guards?”

He only grins.

You’re certain to keep an eye out for any wandering soldiers from that point on, with you pulling Jungkook behind crowds or him dragging you into the gaps between small buildings. Despite the situation being rather stressful with your lives at stake, your escapade is thrilling nonetheless and you enjoy being pressed up against his lean frame, carelessly giggling to yourselves.

Although neither of you carries any silver, window shopping proves to be equally as amusing—browsing through homemade accessories, toys and masks that you play around with, flashing ridiculous faces at one another.

The delicious smell of baked goods drifts through the streets and prompts your mouths to fill with saliva. You appreciate the artistry behind their beautifully decorated exteriors, adorned with colourful frosting and sprinkles. One booth catches your attention and you latch onto Jungkook’s hand to drag him along.

Rows and rows of shiny green bottles are positioned in perfect rows on a table inside the booth and plushies hang from the sides, acting as bait to any passerby. You tug on the hem of Jungkook’s dark vest, gesticulating towards the game with awe.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a few silver coins that glint in the sunlight. Your eyes widen into saucers at his mischievous grin and you smack his arm, chiding him for his wandering hands as he assures you that he found them on the ground. When he goes as far as to insist that he saved them from being trampled on, you can’t help your tinkling laughter from escaping.

Perhaps it’s karma that prevents your rings from landing on top of any bottle, but the exhilaration of watching the rings soar in midair with a flick of your wrist as Jungkook’s chants fill your ears is priceless. Certainly more precious than any stuffed animal.

You two amble about the streets again, side by side. Long fingers intertwine with your own and your heart flips in your chest, suppressing the raging flush that threatens to colour your cheeks whenever Jungkook is involved. You look around your surroundings, trying to conceal the cheeky grin on your face, resembling that of a toddler with their favourite candy.

Before long, your travelling gaze takes notice of the people hunched over on the ground, concentrated on the stones below them. With a closer look, you discover the sketches littered across the stone pathways—some spanning the entire street and some smaller than your palm.

You bolt over to join them with Jungkook in tow. This whole hand-holding business is proving to be more useful than you thought.

There are pieces of different coloured chalk dispersed throughout the streets, and you pick up an orange one, urging Jungkook to do the same. He searches around for a bit until he decides on a white coloured chalk.

By the time you’re finalizing the tiny drawing you sketched onto the uneven stones, the stub in your hand is half the size of your pinky. Your joints ache from kneeling for so long, but you’re more than satisfied with the bright tiger lily staring back at you.

You stand up, brushing off of any stray rocks that have embedded themselves onto the bare skin of your legs and nudge Jungkook’s arm with your foot. He grumbles under his breath that you ruined the white blob he claims to be a bunny, but you jest that it was doomed the moment he picked up the chalk.

The retort silences him and you stretch your hand out to help him stand, grinning sheepishly at the pout on his pink lips. He accepts your peace offering, although rather than using your aid to get up, he yanks you downwards and your unstable body lands right into his lap. You squeak at his retaliation and wriggle violently in his hold as he curls himself around you, his chin resting onto your shoulder and arms wrapping around your torso to quell your futile efforts of escape.

“You like the nation’s flower?” He questions, nuzzling his face into your upper back.

“Nation’s flower?”

He hums his confirmation and you feel the pleasant vibrations on your neck before he’s nodding towards the purple pennants that dangle off of thin strings, stretching between buildings. Now that you’re actively inspecting the marketplace for the flower, you notice the continuous motif of the orange lily sprouting everywhere from decorations to paintings.

Jungkook seems to have abandoned all hope on his own masterpiece, for he lifts you up by your underarms and leads you away.

As you venture through the rest of the market, grazing through the various stalls, you examine all the knick-knacks depicting the famous tiger lily. It soothes you slightly, recognizing the flower decorating your walls back at the tower.

Lost in your trance, you don’t catch Jungkook slinking away, disappearing into the crowds.

As you turn the corner to browse the next stall’s wares, a massive stained glass window depicting a family of three catches your eye. The man appears stern with his furrowed brows and deep-set frown, and the woman’s forced smile fits awkwardly onto her face. She’s holding a tight bundle of canvas, a tiny face peeking through the layers of fabric in her arms.

Rays of the setting sun pierce through the coloured, translucent material and surround the art piece with an ethereal glow. You’re transfixed by the woman, reminded of your own mother’s delicate features.

You shake off the unpleasant feeling of your last encounter with her and analyze the three squares dedicated to the child’s crumpled face. The only noticeable detail you can make out is his chubby cheeks.

“Interested in the Prince?” A warm breath whispers into your ear, “Am I not good enough for you anymore, Princess?”

You spin around to face Jungkook, barely able to contain your delight as you examine the playful glint in his eyes. “Bold of you to assume there was ever a point where you were good enough for me.”

He scoffs, hands automatically coming to loop around your middle. “I know you’re not suggesting that I’m anything less than stellar company.”

You hum aloud, feigning contemplation by rubbing at your chin and a wide grin breaks his irked performance. He tries to hide his little slip by burrowing his face into the crook of your neck.

His soft cheeks on your bare skin along with his large hands squeezing at your sides elicit all your muffled giggles to burst past your lips. Pure, unadulterated glee bounces around your stomach.

Some of the lilies lodged within your golden strands fall loose and flutter onto the ground with the movement. You intercept one that drops from near your temple, plucking it out of the air and slotting the stem just above Jungkook’s ear.

He pulls away from subjecting your clavicle with his tiny nips in order to rest his forehead against yours. Your head is cradled by one of his palms and you watch as his heated gaze roams down to your lips. Entranced by his overwhelming presence, your eyelids slide shut as he leans forward slightly, tilting his head to the side before a meaty hand encloses around the circumference of your upper arm, yanking you away from him.

Panic seizes your muscles. Your heart threatens to shatter your rib cage with its fierce pounding. The soldiers. You extend your other arm to reach out for Jungkook—the same alarm piercing your flesh is reflected in his blazing orbs. Before he has the chance to rush after you, a dainty woman clothed in a primrose dress sweeps him away as well.

Barely a whole day has passed since you began running away from the soldiers, yet you’re more than certain that the soldier’s attire solely consisted of their royal uniforms, which did not include any flowy, pink garments. You whip back to your own abductor; a stout, jolly man with a cheshire grin stretching from one ear to the other.

He releases you in the middle of a swarming mass of people, moving their bodies left and right to the beat being pounded out on tabors and the sweet melody spilling from a nearby flute.

The man spins you around, encouraging you to let loose and sway your hips to the upbeat song as you’re handed off from one partner to the next. Somewhere within the chaos, you spot Jungkook’s longing stare and you subconsciously inch closer to his side.

The second that you two are within reach of one another, you dart into his arms. Just as you’re about to slip into his comforting embrace, a scrawny boy takes your place while an older woman wraps her arms around your shoulders. She wastes no time before guiding you into a dip, her palms supporting your back.

Upside down, Jungkook’s annoyed countenance is an amusing sight that you gleefully chortle at. Knowing that he is similarly distraught at the prospect of being unable to dance together soothes your aching desire and you savour the thrilling experience of moving as one part of a greater whole.

You prance and twirl your heart out as if it’s your last time. And you’re sure that it will be.

Eventually, both of you are able to slither your way out of the dancing crowds, and the cheers die down the farther you get from the main square. The sun is rapidly falling past the horizon and the capital is shrouded in the deepening twilight. You assumed that he would lead you to see the lanterns about now, but you’re clueless as to why you two are heading away from the castle.

“Jungkook?”

He turns back to you with a breathtaking smile resting on his lips, the dwindling light casting an otherworldly radiance around him. Reaching for your hand, he intertwines your fingers with his own as he leans down to softly bump his forehead against yours. “You’ll see.”

Jungkook directs you towards the moat that surrounds the marketplace, ushering you into one of the many gondolas lined up against the dock. You narrow your eyes at him and he attempts to reassure you with a simple, “We’ll bring it back.”

This man will truly corrupt all your morals.

But you’re so entranced in his spell that you follow along without more than a tiny squeeze at your interlaced digits. You release his hands before he jumps into the boat, the wood swaying back and forth under his weight, worrying you instead of the unbothered man a few feet away. As you take a sharp inhale, about to follow in his footsteps, Jungkook grips the sides of your hips and lifts you into the gondola with him.

You fix him with a reproachful glare at his unexpected actions yet the silent scolding doesn’t last long, for you’re hopeless to the sight of his elation, sticking to him like a second skin. Powerless against his charms, you sit on the thin wooden seat on the other side of the boat and watch him grab an oar, dipping it into the water and propelling you two forward.

You want to admire the unobstructed view of the sparkling night sky, but nothing can beat the galaxies hidden within Jungkook’s eyes, thus you try to seem as inconspicuous as possible in ogling him from your peripheral. However, your futile efforts are rather pointless considering your position, facing the handsome thief rowing the boat at the other end.

You think the title is fitting since he’s stolen your heart without a problem as well.

Once he deems your spot satisfactory, Jungkook strolls over to your side, taking a seat on the bench across from you. His legs slot in between the spaces of your own.

“Now that I think about it, it’s the Prince’s eighteenth birthday too,” he states. “He must be pretty excited, taking over the throne and everything.”

You perk up at the news. “He’s succeeding the King?”

“Mm,” he affirms, wetting his lips with a swipe of his tongue. “King announced an early retirement or something because they’d already found the Prince’s betrothed. His coronation is today.”

You nod your understanding, thinking about the responsibilities bearing down on the poor boy. “It’s kind of weird to think about, y’know, being the same age and even sharing the same birthday but leading completely different lives. He’s about to get married, lead a country and me...” you falter, pausing to string your thoughts into a coherent sentence. “Well, this is my entire dream. Seeing these lights is everything to me.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” he asks, shrugging his shoulders. “You’re living your own life, on your own journey. Comparing yourself to others does nothing but rob yourself of your own happiness.”

You hum with a teasing lilt to your tone. “Suddenly the boy who named himself ‘gold’ in the hopes of attracting some friends is giving me advice?”

He breaks out into a chuckle, doubling over and laying his forehead on your shoulder. His hands reach out for the locks of hair resting on your lap, plucking one of the flowers swimming in your strands. Like Hansel and his bread crumbs, many of the blossoms that fell off throughout your time in the marketplace left tracks of your whereabouts. Only a few flowers remain with you.

With the delicate daisy between his thumb and index finger, he rolls the pads of his fingers against each other, spinning the white petals so fast that they blur together into a splotchy circle surrounding the yellow centre. Once he becomes bored with the flower, he lifts his head and stretches his arm out with a classic smirk that heightens his flirtatious nature. “For you, my lady.”

You huff at the offering. “You act as if it wasn’t already mine in the first place.” Despite your sharp words, you gingerly pluck the stem out of his grasp, fingers brushing against his own. When you raise the daisy up to your nose, the invigorating floral scent startles your senses once more.

With not much else to occupy your time, you decide that now is a better time than ever to dislodge the wilting buds from your tresses. You face the side of the gondola overlooking the water, grabbing onto the ledge and leaning forward.

You muster all the grace you have within your bones to place the ivory daisy onto the water’s surface. The flower drifts along the calm current, painting the atmosphere with a tranquil serenity.

Despite your best efforts to suppress them, your clumsy tendencies shine through when you tip your torso over a smidge too far, losing your balance and diving headfirst for the water. Jungkook is quick to latch on to your wrist, steadying you before you accidentally throw yourself overboard.

You’re sheepish in both your apology and thanks. To avoid any further mishaps, one of his hands remain on your lower back and the other collects the remaining blossoms in your tresses, handing them off to you.

A slow rhythm develops between you two and your raging thoughts come to a standstill, a red light halting the traffic within your mind. In front of you, a garden of assorted blossoms assembles, floating gently towards the ornate castle. One sprout catches your eye.

A tiger lily.

Directly below its long petals, a flash of bright red catches your eye in the reflection of the water. Jungkook’s deep voice cleaves through the soft sloshing of the water. “The lanterns.”

“It’s…” You struggle to piece together proper words to describe the sight before you. One lantern lightens the dark sky, drifting alone in the expansive space before a bunch of others race to join the first. Their warm, yellow glow overpowers that of the moon, painting the landscape in an orange tint that seems to welcome you into its embrace.

“Beautiful.”

You’re too distracted by the enchanting sight before you to notice his eyes trained on your profile, and so you soundlessly agree with a nod of your head. It’s as if time has ceased in its endless ticking, halting in its tracks for another world to open where only you and Jungkook exist.

You don’t mind the idea as much as you think you would.

“I have a surprise.”

You turn over to face him, head tilting in curiosity. He carries a paper lantern in his open palms and your brows furrow at his attentive, considerate behaviour. “Jungkook?”

“We should join in on all the fun, right?” A genuine smile illuminates his soft features instead of the usual smirks he casually throws your way. Oddly enough, despite your inability to operate in front of his flirty personality, you adore both sides equally.

“Kook, wait.”

He perks up at the nickname, reminding you of a dog with its tail violently wagging back and forth—you can’t help but be enamoured by him. You raise the hem of your dress up to the middle of your left thigh and he sputters, looking away. “Hey, hey! I know I’m pretty irresistible but this boat is not the place to—”

“No, you idiot.” You snicker at his unexpected timidity, shimmying the coiled strap down your leg and covering your decency once again with the fabric. “I have something for you too.”

He peeks at you, ensuring that you’re sufficiently clothed before turning to face you. A cold sweat settles over the outer layer of your skin as you watch his brows raise at his satchel in your hands. Keeping the lantern in one hand, and his steady gaze focused on your eyes, he gently pushes the bag down to the floor of the boat, the metal of the crown banging against the wood.

“All I need is you,” he whispers the words into the empty space of the night, the syllables getting lost somewhere within the mellow breeze blowing by. Your heart constricts at the reassurance that this time, Mother is wrong. You fight back the tears gathering at your waterline and grab the other edge of the lantern after he lights the candle inside.

“Ready?” he asks.

You nod and the two of you slowly lift your arms to release the lantern with the masses drifting above you. After a bit, you lose sight of your paper lantern and you glance back at Jungkook to ask whether he was able to keep track of its location, but your voice gets stuck in your throat when you become captivated with the childlike wonder buried within his orbs, roaming over the sky and examining every single lantern at once.

His scouring eventually leads him back to you. He catches you staring, but neither of you care enough to break the moment. His eyes soften and you two shuffle forward on your seats, being pulled toward one another like magnets. Your legs entangle with his in the cramped area and you lean forward until your lips are millimetres from one another.

From this close, you have a perfect view of your reflection within his brilliant irises, the shallow scar that runs along his cheek, the cute birthmark right under his mouth. His eyes are locked on your mouth and you take that as the go-ahead signal to close the gap and slot your lips against his soft ones.

With your evident lack of experience, Jungkook takes control immediately, a hand flying to the back of your head, threading through your hair to keep you in place as he sucks at your lower lip. His tongue swipes at the closed seam that blocks him from your mouth, and you instantly open up to clash tongues, although you shrink back soon after, letting him explore your hot cavern.

You sneak a peek at him every time you two separate for air, confirming that this is indeed reality and not some product of your wild imagination. He invades all your senses and keeps you locked to him like an addict desperate for their fix, his other palm searing through your clothing with its heat and burning a hole through the thin fabric of your dress.

When you finally pull away, you feel feverish and dizzy as a raging blush colours your cheeks. You can’t find it in yourself to look directly into his eyes, but he reaches for your chin and forces you to study the haze of passion in his gaze.

Every part of your body is lit aflame from his touch. Hooked on the feeling of his plush lips pressing against yours with your tongues swirling in tandem with one another, you’re about to lean in for more when his eyes dart off to the side and he abruptly jerks away as if you burned him with your embrace.

His startling jolt snaps you out of your dazed state. With your head out of the clouds, you notice that the lanterns have already moved onto the next town over, taking their warmth with them. The fire within you, kindled by Jungkook, dwindles with the uncertainty of your future together.

Without so much as another word, Jungkook snatches the oar from the bottom of the boat and jumps back to his position at the front of the gondola. He urgently paddles the two of you back to land and you fumble for words. “Jungkook, I—”

“It’s not you.” His statement is reassuring in writing, although his tone is detached, distant in a way that crushes the passages to your lungs. Lost in your dejection, you’re powerless to prod him for any more information than that.

Before the boat can hit the edge of the dock, Jungkook springs out with his leather satchel tucked under his arm, pausing to mutter, “I just—I have to take care of something. Please believe me when I say I’ll be back.” His anguish leaks into his voice and you will yourself to nod, a forced smile on your lips. “Wait for me.”

He dashes off with your heart in his hands. You steady your shaky breath and place your faith in him, the man you have come to trust with your life.

You spend the next half hour struggling to get out of the gondola, craving the flat land to ground yourself. By the time you manage to clamber out, there are a couple of discoloured blotches on the length of your dress that put your many failed attempts on full display. You fan one of the bigger spots to help it dry faster, but the fabric becomes chilly with the extra wind and a shiver slips down your spine from its icy temperature.

Languid footsteps approach your frigid frame and you brighten up, forgetting about the cold. “Took you long enough. Y’know, for a second there I was worried you’d actually lef—”

You pick up more than one pair of feet advancing on you and your eyes widen at the lanky, redheaded twins that stop in front of your path. Cursing your quivering limbs, you cringe at the tremor in your voice when you ask, “What did you do to him?”

They simultaneously snort at your question and the one on the left replies, “Sorry about this, lass, but you’re gonna have to come with us.”

The blood drains from your face and you repeat, louder, “What did you do to him?”

“Aw, don’t get all riled up now. But don’t worry your pretty little head, we’re going to take you right to him.” They corner you back to the dock and you scramble to locate a weapon to defend yourself with. At your wit’s end, you prepare to jump into the murky waters.

However, before you get the chance to move another muscle, an intense pain blooms at the back of your skull, wrapping around to your temples accompanied by a flash of light exploding behind your eyes. Then everything goes black.

Your head pounds as a dull ache nestles itself deep within your bones. Your vision is nothing but a blurry, indecipherable mess of colours, so you opt to keep your eyes closed instead. You’re kneeling on cold tiles that rub your knees raw when you subtly shift into a more comfortable position, discovering the existence of the shackles around your wrists and ankles.

“—nd the girl. We expect you to keep your end of the deal.” The rugged tone that speaks is one that you recognize from before your blackout—one of the redheads.

“Yes, yes, all the charges laid against you have been cleared,” a high-pitched voice meets your ears and you subconsciously grimace, physically recoiling from the sound. Thankfully, your sharp motions go unnoticed. “You’re free to go.”

“What?” You hear shuffling nearby, the rustling of clothes getting farther away from you. The distinct, metallic sheen of a couple of swords being unsheathed follow and the footsteps come to a sudden stop. “You promised us gold.”

The woman scoffs, “Now why would I give you crooked-nosed knaves anything more than a death sentence?”

Many polished boots clamber against the ground with such force that the vibrations can be felt through the flesh of your folded calves. The grunts and garbled screams that ensue are silenced within seconds and two hefty weights hit the floor with a limp, lifeless thud.

“A pleasure working with you boys.”

There’s more shuffling, then something is dragged past your crumpled form. The throbbing across your cranium worsens and you’re incapable of fending off the blissful oblivion of desolation any longer, thus you surrender to the darkness once more.

The next time you open your eyes a harsh light coats your surroundings and the blocks of colour are clearer, sharp enough to decipher the intricate detailing painted on the tiles beneath your knees. Someone chokes on a wet cough, and your eyelids snap shut once more. Your nose crinkles in disgust as well.

“Her tiny skull should have been rolling through these halls eighteen years ago.” The woman’s wretched tone fills your ears, words full of deadly poison.

You remain chained, kneeling against the ground with your head lowered. A numbing sensation lingers no matter how much you fidget in place, bearing down your limbs with the weight of your useless nerves that refuse to fire off.

Another, deeper, voice responds, “Tone it down. Her magic is powerful, the advantage we hold over the other kingdoms is colossal with this kind of sorcery on our side. If she falls, the whole empire will fall with her.”

Sorcery? Although you can count the number of people you met on one hand, you’ve studied heaps of books and drilled your mother with enough questions to know that your magic is unique and rare—a product of alchemy that occurs merely once every millennium.

“I see no point in keeping her around when we cannot access her magic at our will, she is as good as worthless to us. That halfwit of a sister was incapable of locking this churl in a tower for long enough, and look at her now, running around, wreaking havoc with a criminal.”

Your mind swirls with the sudden barrage of information, unsure as to why these two strangers hold deep insights into your life, as well as the knowledge about your unusual hair.

“There is nothing to worry about, Jimin is on the throne. We will simply send her away once again,” the gruff voice states, exasperation clear in his tone.

A deafening thud reverberates throughout the spacious room. Helpless to the dreadful fear swimming in your veins, your body shudders in response to the noise.

The woman shrieks, clearly at her wits’ end, “I want her dead! Guillotine, hang, drown, burn, I could care less. She poses a threat to Jimin’s throne with her existence, and we have gone through too much to have our plans foiled by this knave. We were merciful enough in having my imbecilic sister continue to meet with Jimin throughout the years.”

There’s a long, drawn-out sigh before the man answers, “Have some heart, darling, that is her son you speak of.”

“In the eyes of the people, he is my son and the King,” she seethes. Her enmity is strangely familiar, yet you fail to identify the woman through her voice. “Quit acting as if I am the only sinner here and remember how much we both sacrificed for our blood to inherit the King’s throne.”

“It is not your blood though, is it, dear wife?”

The tension within the room is thick, palpable in the dense air in the way that makes breathing difficult. “You must have enjoyed sleeping with my sister more than I believed. Do you want to call her back here? Play a good husband and wife for the counterfeit King?”

You couldn’t keep the tremours from breaking out over your body as your breaths quicken and an abundance of liquid races to your eyes. It was all beginning to come together, but you wait for the two to confirm your suspicions.

The man chuckles with hollow intent. “Do you fail to recall your own words, pleading with me to follow this foolish scheme of yours? I would have much rather preferred a foreigner rule the kingdom alongside our daughter.”

“Funny, that’s not what you said eighteen years ago.”

You let out a choked sob, unable to repress the sounds of anguish that tears at your skin to brutal shreds. Enraged rivulets stream down your cheeks, and you lift your torso to stare at your legitimate parents. They turn to you, the man distraught and the woman with pure disgust.

“How—” you stammer through your heavy wails, “how could you?”

“So the Princess found out.” Your biological mother raises from her royal seat, storming over the short distance to your trembling form. “Fine, we can strike an agreement.”

She reaches behind your head to grab a handful of your hair, yanking your head up to peer up at the exquisitely decorated ceiling. When you yelp in pain, she crouches down to your level, baring her pearly white teeth as she threatens, “Leave. Be a good little girl and go hole yourself back up in that tower. Don’t worry, Mommy will come get you if we ever need that magic of yours, hm?”

You desperately wriggle around to loosen her hold, but she only grips your strands tighter, pulling downwards to introduce more pain to your scalp. “That thief will stay right here to ensure you keep up your end of the deal, alright?”

At the mention of Jungkook, your heart stutters and your expression morphs to that of despair, momentarily forgetting about the strain to the sensitive skin of your head. “Where is he?”

She smirks and snaps her fingers. The door to the throne room is pulled open with a loud clack, and Jungkook’s weak, bloody form stumbles through the grand entrance, hanging upright with the help of two sturdy guards.

“Kook,” you achingly howl.

“Mopping all his blood off the floor would be terribly tiresome for the maids.” She jerks your head down to bear witness to the sneer stretching across her lips. “It’s all up to you, really.”

“Let me heal him!” you agonize, sobs ripping through your chest, burning through every tissue to the outermost layer of your skin. “Pl-please, please let me heal him. I’ll leave, I won’t say a word, I’ll do anything you want—I’m b-begging you, please.”

The wicked smirk playing on her lips grows wider at your pleading. She shoves your head away, the momentum of the push throwing your whole torso over to the side, bringing about a harsh meeting with the floor. With Jungkook occupying every crevice of your mind, there’s no space to register the pain pulsing through your groggy body.

“That’s what I like to hear.”

You scramble to your hands and knees, disregarding the scrapes and bruises littering your limbs. Despite your tunnel vision directed towards reaching Jungkook, your movements are sluggish from the extended period of time spent kneeling in one position.

The guards supporting him release their hold on his arms, and you scramble to catch his limp frame in your arms, but your depleted muscles can only manage to soften his fall with your body. You detangle yourself from him and hurriedly begin wrapping your hair around his torso.

Your jaw trembles at his damp locks, sodden with sweat and stuck to the side of his head dripping in crimson. The vicious colour oozes out of the deep gashes you locate across his back, peeking through the tears in his shirt and stains the bloody spit drooling from the corners of his cracked lips. Great purple welts fill the rest of his exposed skin, completing the heart-wrenching picture before you.

You pick up the weak croak of your name, and you hiccup from your fierce laments at his red-rimmed eyes. “Guess I was right all along, Princess.”

Your mother’s cruel words follow the nasty glower she shoots his way. “Shut up or we’ll end your pitiful life now, you filthy criminal.”

“Jungkook, I’m here,” you reassure him, beginning to wrap your excess strands around his arms before he stops you with a stained hand. “Jungkook let me—”

“Stop,” he mutters, gripping his side in pain.

“No! I can’t—I can’t let you die.” You grit your teeth, disobeying his words and going to wrap your tresses around his broken body once more.

“If you go back there,” he coughs, an alarming amount of blood spurting out, “then you’ll—”

“It’s fine, everything will be alright, okay?” You press your palm over his hand and the icy bite that greets you hardens your resolve. “We’ll figure it out.”

You take a deep breath, readying yourself to sing the incantation engraved into the back of your mind when Jungkook’s fingers graze your cheek. You unconsciously lean into his touch, examining every crimson stain marring his delicate features.

His doe eyes soften at your orbs roaming his face and when your gaze settles on his thin lips, he snatches the chance to land a peck against your mouth. The fleeting kiss fills you with greed, and your eyes flutter shut despite your rationale as you dip towards him for another.

You halt, gasping at the gut-wrenching sound of your tresses being severed from the base of your neck, the noise snapping you back to reality. Your eyes widen at Jungkook’s relieved countenance as his torso reclines to the ground, the sharp dagger in his hand rattling onto the tiles beside him. When you reach back to assess the damage, your hand grips onto the short strands that reach no further than your shoulder.

You glance back at the heaps of dead, brown hair sprawled across the palace floor and your mind wipes clean of any coherent thought. Instead, your chest caves in on itself, breathing made impossible because of your collapsed airways and you choke out, “Jungkook, what did you—”

“What an absolute halfwit, does he think he did anyone a favour with that little stunt of his? Without your hair, we have no need for either of you.” Your biological mother laughs, the notes turning ominously maniacal towards the end. “Kill them.”

Guards immediately surround you two, and in a weak attempt to protect him from their pointed swords, you cradle Jungkook’s powerless form to your chest. You prepare yourself to bear the end of their piercing blades.

“What do you roaches think you’re doing?” she seethes, blazing orbs flashing with white-hot fury. “I said, kill them!”

The gigantic doors burst open again, but this time, a lean man strides forward. His blond strands are neatly styled away from his forehead and the regal red robe hanging upon his shoulders elegantly sway after him. The soldiers part ways to make room for the intimidating man and one of his retainers at the door announces, “The King is here!”

You struggle to even out your frantic breaths, thankful for the distraction that grants you a break to rack your brain for a method to escape the dreadful situation you two have found yourselves in. Debating whether you should fight back, sneak away or plead for forgiveness, your eyes dart wildly around the room. A woman donned in a black cloak lingers slightly behind the King, gazing at you with a murderous glare that sends pin needles into the thin lining of your stomach.

“That’s enough,” the King states.

“Jimin.” The former Queen races up to him but is stopped by the retainers that encircle the King. “What business do you have here? There are more important matters for you to attend to.” Her eyes narrow at the sight of the woman behind him.

“No, I think this has gone on long enough.” He sweeps his gaze over to the two of you, Jungkook barely clinging onto life, nestled within your protective embrace. The woman latches onto his bicep, her head vigorously shaking back and forth, yet you’re uncertain whether her disagreement will relieve your anguish or worsen it.

Despite her insistence, his head nods in your direction and the woman that raised you begrudgingly marches up to you, barely acknowledging your presence in favour of pressing her palms against Jungkook’s open lacerations. He winces at the pressure and just as you’re about to tell her off, you discern the thick gauze that rests between her hand and Jungkook’s side, the sterile white shade expeditiously being replaced by a bloody crimson.

“What are you talking about, dear?” the former Queen asks, a hard edge to her tone. “These two are hedge-born lowlives, simply not worth your time.”

He crinkles his nose in disgust, flicking his hand towards the former King and Queen. “Lock them up in the dungeons.”

Both their eyes widen comically, jaws dropping to the floor. However, you can’t find joy within their despair when Jungkook’s survival is still up in the air.

The woman sputters, recklessly thrashing her body to escape the soldiers’ grip. The man simply lowers his head, seemingly having accepted his fate as he follows the guards without another word.

“Did you forget who put you in that throne, Park Jimin?” the woman screeches, the blood vessels lining her neck about to implode. “How dare you disrespect your pare—”

“How could I ever forget your treacherous actions?” he spits out, disgust lacing his voice, “How could I ever forget how many lives you’ve ruined, dear aunt.”

“We did it all for you!”

“You did it for yourselves,” he hisses. Relief trickles through the tips of your fingers, spreading across your body like wildfire from the King’s aid. “Get them out of my sight.”

“You worthless—” Her shrieks echo throughout the halls, though you’ve long lost focus in their conversation after watching the two wretched souls being punished and put in their rightful place.

Your aunt passes some thick bandages from inside the bell sleeve of her cloak. You gratefully accept the offering, pressing it against his lower back—wishing that it’s not too late, that Jungkook has not lost too much blood yet. The passive stare that your aunt fixes you with crams your head with doubt and you begin to panic, bringing one of your hands up to cradle his face.

Although you’re convinced that you wailed through an entire year’s worth of sobs, the tears sliding down your face refuse to stop, dripping down and landing onto the dirtied skin of Jungkook’s cheek. You press your forehead against his, hoping against hope that some magic remains within your body, that the tiniest bit will reveal itself like a bag trick and heal his wounds.

But your magical hair was extraordinary enough, and this is no fairytale.

“Get those two to the physician’s,” the King orders.

Guards scramble to action, ripping you apart from Jungkook as you unsuccessfully attempt to resist being separated again. You’re absolutely spent from the tiring events of the past couple of days and your weary legs give out as the soldiers lift your drained form into a standing position.

Jungkook is moved onto a sturdy sheet, then carried away past the double doors and out of sight. Your flimsy arms wrap around the shoulders of two guards as they assist you in following Jungkook to the physician, passing the King on your way.

His plush lips stretch into a sympathetic, tight-lipped smile, but the adrenaline from earlier wears off and the sting of your own wounds drains you of your manners, uncaring that you’re facing the King. Thankfully, he dismisses your discourtesy instead of beheading you, and you’re hauled away from the gracious man.

On the way, you’re close enough to overhear what he mutters under his breath. A garbled scream rips through your throat in protest, and you shoot the King the deadliest glare you can muster. He releases a deep sigh at your childish antics, waving as you turn the corner.

“Poor guy doesn’t look like he’s going to make it.”

You spend the next few, rather tedious, days in a luxurious bed, being fretted over by everyone from the maids to the chefs. It was difficult to indulge in the extravagance that the castle had to offer when you were anxiously awaiting news regarding Jungkook, which they refused to disclose until your own condition improved.

After all the pampering, you were permitted access past the confines of the expansive room you were forced to recover in. Your injuries were minor in comparison to Jungkook, thus you were granted freedom much earlier than him.

Not like he was capable of stepping outside of his room anyway.

Although his body is repairing his torn flesh incrementally, he shows no signs of consciousness—not the twitch of a finger, the flutter of an eyelash, nothing. Doubt claws a bit higher up your torso each day, waiting for the moment that the disquiet slithers up your esophagus and suffocates you.

Despite the crushing news of his coma-like state, you work diligently to ensure that neither you nor Jungkook becomes a burden to the castle by picking up various duties. Jimin continuously waves off your attempts to help, but you’re restless and desperate for a distraction from wondering about Jungkook’s condition all the time.

Jimin banned you from performing some of the maid’s tasks once, then sorely regretted it when he had to tend to your nervous breakdown in the afternoon. Since then he has kept his comments on your excessive working habits to himself.

Today you’re in Jungkook’s room, dusting off the spotless shelves that house the many herbs being grounded into powders and rubbed as a salve onto his injuries daily. You organize the rolled bandages for the second time in the past hour and mop every inch of the floor.

You can’t devote yourself to lingering by the unconscious man’s side for too long, otherwise your mind gradually begins to spiral into every possible worst-case scenario and you simply can’t handle the reality of a future without him. It sounds overly dramatic—many of the maids you have grown close to over the months claimed as much when you brought up your journey together.

But they didn’t hear his melodic laughter that followed his teasing smirks when he said something flirtatious, effectively making your heart skip a beat. They didn’t feel his hand always reaching out to make contact with you in some way, craving your touch to ground him to reality. They didn’t see his eyes softening when he gazed at you as though you were holding his entire world in your eyes.

They didn’t know Jungkook the way you did.

You strain the mop of its excess dirtied water before stowing the tool away in the storage room. When you return, a draft filters in through the open window and you race over to close it, worried that Jungkook may catch a bothersome cold that will delay his healing process.

You take a seat on the lavish mattress adjacent from his thighs as you stare out the window in front of you. The air remains stale in spite of the fresh breeze that blew into the room seconds prior, and the dull atmosphere persists due to the lifeless man inhabiting its space.

You’re uncertain how many more times you can handle walking into this room with his weak body lying motionless on these pristine sheets, but you will endure it all without complaint for him. A knock at the door catches your attention, and you twist around to meet Jimin’s friendly beam. “How is he?”

“Same as he always is,” you state, allowing yourself to take in Jungkook’s sunken cheeks and pale face. “Unresponsive.”

“You wanna join me in the gardens for some fresh air?” At your unsure raise of a brow, he convinces you with, “You’ve been cooped up in the castle the whole day.”

The both of you head out to view the lush scenery outside, seated amongst the blooming tulips, although your eyes are drawn to the lilies that border the lilac cosmos. You trace the familiar shape of the orange flower with your pupils, reminiscing on the doodles decorating your room’s walls back at the tower. That seems like forever ago now.

Other than his lack of consciousness, Jungkook’s condition remains relatively stable and yet you still find it burdensome to stray too far from his side. The staff is under orders to instantly notify you should he arise while you’re away, but that doesn’t ease the disquiet that rouses whenever you leave the castle walls.

You’re convinced that the second you wander off, he will wake up without you there; a thought too unbearable to consider. You crave to lose yourself within his molten ember orbs once more, exploring the undiscovered galaxies in his gaze.

“These past few months must seem unfathomable,” he starts, pressing his lips together to ponder over his next words before continuing. “I don’t know how my mom treated you in the tower but, knowing her, I’m guessing it wasn’t too great.”

His casual mention of the affectionate term you pleaded to call your mother for ages—the topic she despised almost as much as you begging to venture outside the tower—stung the slightest bit. From her actions, it was evident that she never cared for you as much as her own, biological son, but it was difficult to dismiss the joyful memories you shared with her, no matter how few and far between they were.

“She started visiting me a few years back, explaining all their horrendous crimes and insisting that she was the only one I could trust. She told me about you, too. Your mother ordered her to lock you away in that tower and ensure that nobody ever found out the truth in exchange for my seat on the throne. ”

Your head lowers at the information, brows furrowing as you contemplate your true relationship with the woman that raised you from birth.

“When my mom caught word of you travelling with the thief, she returned the crown in hopes that Jungkook would run for the hills, and you would be left to come back with her. Her goal was to overtake the kingdom from your mother.” His eyes gloss over with a distant sheen and you sympathize with him; the boy was used as a tool, just like you.

“It’s reassuring in a way.” His strange admittance prompts you to glance up at him, confusion swirling within your orbs. “At least we’re both suffering from our family’s despicable actions.”

Our family.

His optimistic viewpoint hits you like a wave crashing against the shore, sharing his vast fortitude and washing away a fraction of the sombre agony tormenting your heart. Although Jimin’s life was no doubt disparate from your own, you two are connected through the blood running through your veins. Even if those same bonds brought you to a tragic meeting with your own wicked parents, at least you could rely on one person within your family.

The edges of your lips curl into a tiny smile aimed at the blond man across from you, your own short, chestnut coloured hair providing a stark contrast. “I’m glad I can rely on you, Jimin.”

He readjusts his weight on the green, iron chair and leans forward to rest his elbows on the metal table between the two of you. “I think this is the first time you’ve called me by my name without me having to remind you.”

You quietly giggle at the memories flooding your mind, from the hostile attitude you first approached him with, then the days he comforted you over Jungkook’s motionless form, to Jimin demanding that you call him by his first name. You consider yourself extremely lucky to have someone as gracious and compassionate as Jimin to be your half-brother.

“I know we’ve already gone over this,” he starts with a serious edge to his tone, “but this is your last chance.”

You rip your gaze away from the plants to lay a couple of light pats to his hand. Despite the lack of context, the topic is familiar to you, as he has gone over this with you many times. “No, I don’t want the throne. You trained for this position your whole life, so I’m entrusting the kingdom to your capable hands. All I ask is for you to fulfill my request.”

Jimin releases a heavy sigh. “If you really want him free of all his crimes, there’s no way you two can live within the capital.”

“That’s fine with me.” You shrug your shoulders, unconcerned about the prospect of having to leave the busy city. “I don’t think I could live somewhere like this anyway.”

You don’t expand on your reasoning, and he doesn’t question you further, simply sparing you a solemn, understanding gaze. Supposedly, you aren’t supposed to pick favourites within your family, but Jimin is definitely golden in your eyes.

“Deeply sorry to intrude, Your Royal Majesty, but your betrothed is at the door and wishes to meet with you.” A guard inches his way towards your table with his head bowed, hands respectfully gathered behind his back.

Jimin looks to you with an apology on his tongue, but you wave him off before any explanations can spill from his plump lips. “Go get your girl.”

A bright smile enlightens his features as he springs up from his seat, dusting off his uniform before bounding after the guard. When he quirks his head back, you demonstrate your encouragement through a thumbs-up that you wave from side to side until he is satisfied, facing forward with a gleeful snicker.

You inhale the outdoor air, about to head inside yourself to rearrange Jungkook’s bandages again when your eyes wander back to the tiger lilies that caught your eye earlier. Within a few strides, you reach the vibrant buds, stretching your hand out to pluck a few stems. The sweet smell invades your senses.

With a tiny bouquet in hand, you make your way back inside, the metaphorical load on your shoulders a bit lighter than it was before. You expertly maneuver your way through the halls towards Jungkook’s room with the dwindling hope that today will be the day that his honey orbs reflect the sun’s light filtering in the window, filled with the mischief and tenderness that you remember.

When you’re met with his unmoving form instead, another sliver of that faith shatters into tiny shards.

You shake it off and head back to the windowsill, where an empty flower vase rests. The lilies within your grasp are carefully inserted inside and you place the bouquet back onto the tiny platform. Their floral scent wafts throughout the space as you take your place beside his legs.

As part of your usual routine, you use this time to relax. Just for a moment, you give yourself the room to breathe, giving your brain free rein to feel the emotions raging within you and fantasize about your future with Jungkook. You imagine yourself in a tiny cottage, craving a quaint place to live after the immense tower you were raised in.

The two of you would settle down there, adopting a pet to keep you company before you inevitably brought a few children into the world. Their genders didn’t matter, as long as you could raise them with Jungkook, forming a tight-knit family that shared all the love the both of you lacked growing up.

A warm hand wraps around your wrist. Your head snaps to follow the direction of his arm, curving into his broad shoulders, and past his sharp jaw with your heart in your throat. Tears gather at your waterline, spilling over onto your cheeks as you hiccup from the sudden sobs that overtake your body.

The doe eyes that stare back at you carry your whole world in their weight.

+ epilogue.

Tiny footsteps scuttle around the wooden floors, screaming in delight from being chased by a much larger, yet still very childlike, man. “Betchya can’t catch me, daddy!”

Your husband playfully roars at the taunt, speeding up his strides to snatch the little girl up into his arms. She shrieks at the hand that comes up to tickle her little torso.

“Okay, okay, enough playing you two,” you command, calming the baby boy in your arms that becomes far too excited from the chaotic energy erupting within your cottage. “It’s dinnertime!”

“Dinnertime!” your oldest repeats, violently wriggling around in her father’s grip to force him in lowering her back to the ground so that she can run to her spot at the table. She looks from side to side, doe eyes flitting back to you with a pout on her lips. “But where’s Pascal, Mommy?”

You pass the baby to Jungkook, freeing your hands in order to bring the steaming hot food from the stove to the table. The beige chameleon fades back into his natural emerald colour once you grab him by his scaly torso, dropping him into your daughter’s awaiting hands.

Her squeaky voice chides, “You can’t hide from Mommy.”

A boisterous, yet melodic neigh notifies you of Max’s presence in your backyard, and you shamble past the wooden door to hand the carrots you prepared for him. He snorts in delight as he lowers his head to the floor and begins chomping away. At the sight of his dirtied mane, you take a mental note to give him a thorough wash and brush later on.

Before you head inside, you catch sight of a blond man making his way towards you. “Jimin!”

His eyes reduce to two crescents from the wide grin that occupies his face. He swapped out his imposing robe for a commoner’s shirt and slacks, and they strangely suit his lithe form better than his bulky uniform.

“And where’s our lovely Queen?” You tease, elbowing him when he reaches out to ruffle the top of your head.

“Taking care of things that I don’t want to do.” You two snicker, ecstatic to see one another, and you step aside to let him coddle your children. The slight breeze in the air gingerly kisses your face, rustling the leaves on the trees surrounding your tiny house, and you close your lids to relish in the tranquillity of nature.

A pair of familiar arms curl around the shape of your waist and a smile creeps onto your lips as you open your eyes to examine Jungkook’s face, inches away from your own. He brushes your brown strands over your shoulder, leaning in for a quick peck as a loud chorus of disgust is vocalized behind you.

Both of you break out into giggles at your daughter’s behaviour and turn to face your family waiting for you inside. With your hand tangled with his, you walk to a brighter future together.

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine #btswritingcafe #heartsforbts #jungkook x reader #jungkook au #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts imagine #bts au #bangtanscenery #btsgoldnet #ficswithluv #goldenclosetnet #cypherwritersnet #bangtanhq

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acklesterritory · 3 years

Text

Bad Ideas_Ch. 1

Hey guys, I'm back with a new story.

*First*: I want to apologize if I tagged you in case you didn't want to. Unfortunately I mixed up my tag list so please even if you don't read this story let me know if you're on my blog's

1. Dean tags or 2.series tags or 3.oneshot tags.

And reblog so the others see this post too. Thanks

**Second*I'm planning on finishing this story in 2 parts but sometimes it can take longer so no promises.

Dean x Reader

This chapter words~4k

Series Warning: +18, a/b/o relationships, Dom/Sub(No details. You know I hate spoilers), Angst, Smut, Unprotected sex (You're wiser that that), Cheating, Language, Hurt reader

Summary: She was supposed to get married and imprint her beloved wolf but what happens when a dominant hunter shows up to hunt them?

This chapter song: Wild by John legend feat Gary Clark Jr. Listen here

And I stole @jay-and-dean 's divider *sorry*

Happy reading and may you leave me something cause feedbacks are writer's fuel.

Mad, Sad, pretty, savage, seductive, crazy!

An obvious alpha.

I knew it from the first time I laid my eyes on her.

Couple of weeks ago I was at a luxury restaurant in my Fed suit to meet a businessman who could be involved in our new case. Doing that random investigation, I was getting convinced that there ain't any useful information and he was nothing but a waste of the time. So I excused myself and left the table to call Sam in the lobby. He had to know it was a dead end. But just when I was putting my phone back in my pocket, someone grabbed my arm from behind and pushed me against the wall out of blue.

"Say your name."

Wasn't my first time to face a seductive woman but for some unknown reason her whisper sent a shiver down my spine and I couldn't stop my eyes from gazing at her curves in that elegant black outfit.

"Listen. I got myself into this awful situation where I had to face this filthy woman announcing everyone in my birthday party that she was sleeping with my fiance. So before he show up to stop me, I need you to help them realizing something very important about me. And that help will be appreciated. So make your mind. You can just simply say your name and mention your price or I will kill you to make a scene and skip everyone's pitty looks part." She told me, running her right leg up, between my legs. To make me feel the bulge of her thigh holester underneath her dress: *She had a gun*

Wetting my lips, I looked down into her eyes for a second. She had some make up on but I knew enough to be sure that wild look couldn't be fake. She was a werewolf who probably had no idea what she got herself into.

"Name's Dean." I bit on my lip. Why I let her know my real name? I had no idea. I didn't want to think about it either. I just wanted to hold my gaze there, Letting myself to catch on those burning flames in her eyes.

"And sorry sweetheart. I'm off the sale."

I brought my lips closer to her ear so she could hear my whisper. However I hadn't to bend so much. Even without those elegant highheels, she was taller than a normal chick.

"What do you want, then?" She almost hissed on my lips before I pushed her back.

"Maybe I want you to be even more angry. Who knows?" I joked, distracting her for a second by my intentional smirk.

"You are a hunter, aren't you?" This time she surprised.

"What?" I narrowed my eyes and peaked out the tongue to wet my lips when she turned around for a second to catch a glimpse of whoever was approaching us.

"Just save my honor and then I'm yours. Kill, rape, torture. I don't mind anymore." There was no regret, shame or sorrow in her tone. She just stated it like a random proven fact. No hesitation, no hard feelings, no doubts. She was speaking like a smart commander in a war field, negotiating with her enemy to just save the day.

And to be honest I was stunned by that behavior. I know that I could resist her when she right away reached out but the thing is I didn't want to. As soon as she snaked her arms around my neck, her smell surrounded me like a trap. A captivating one. So pleasant! Then her lips were on mine in a shameless open-mouthed kiss. With her tongue dancing with mine.

I closed my eyes and immediately blood started to run wild in my veins. Every fiber, every cell were reacting to her warm body against my cold existence. It felt strange. I never was aroused by a kiss this fast. Not even when I was just a virgin teen.

"Y/n?!" A gruff voice called her. So she had to draw an unintentional groan out of me to break the kiss.

"That's him." She murmured on my lips. And I opened my eyes to look at a tall man in his fancy tuxedo. He was handsome. But not as much as he was wealthy. His watch could cost the whole hotel itself!

"What are you doing?" Eyes burning, he stared at me. Like he was watching the most terrible scene ever in his life.

"Well, ..." She smiled mischievously, getting out of my arms to stand next to me.

"Just enjoying my heat with a man who actually can handle it." She stated, smiling with her head up, radiating power.

"What..." The man's gaze shifted between us in disbelief.

"What do you ... what does ..." He was getting red by anger. And it seemed she couldn't care less.

"This is a break up, Jamie. I'm done with your endless excuses. I'm done with you, sleeping around while you can't even satisfy my needs in the bed. I need a better man."

*well, shit*

"You're … how you … can …" The man stuttered, shaking his head in disbelief. I looked around and found out people were gathering around us slowly. From the corner of my eyes I spotted two hunk in suits in front of the main door. They were definetaly bodyguards.

"That's it. We are done." She announced while everyone held their breath; watching her taking off her ring and throwing it toward her newly "ex".

"Y/N! …" The man took a step forward. His eyes were on fire and rage. Still his tone was soft, unlike his rough voice. "You can't do this. It's just a misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding?" She laughed, tilting her head. Everyone could see how her fangs looked perfectly white and sharp: Ready, challenging, threatening!

"Is that so, Jamie?" She mocked before bringing out her phone out of her tiny clutch, throwing it to the guy after playing a video on it. By the noises I could hear, it was a sex type that made the man sweating bullets in no time.

"Now get the fuck out of my way and out of my life." She retorted, grabbing my hand. And as I was planning to win over the two bodyguards who mightly would stop us, we just reached to the main front door.

"Miss Y/l/N …" To my surprise, one of the bodyguards approached us politely. looking cool, calm, and all in control.

"You two can go home, Mark. I'm gonna spend the night with …" She hesitated and shut her eyes for a second to remember my name:

"… Dee. We probably need some private time for the next few days. I'll call you when I feel I need to get back home. But til that, I don't want any interruptions." She declared and by her steady and sure tone I could say she used to talk with them.

"But …"

"Just don't let Jamie get close to me ever again." She cut the bodyguard's word carelessly and then turned her face to look at me.

"You got any car?"

"Of course I do." I gave her my most proud smile.

"Ok then. Let's go out of here. I don't want to even take one more breath in here anymore."

I watched enough movies and read enough comics and slept with enough women to know that Y/n was a whole different savage alpha.

She was on the baby's seat in just her one single layer fancy dress that barely covered her body while it was freezing cold outside. To the point I could feel the chill in my FBI suit and coat the moment we walked out of the hotel. And still she protested me when I turned on baby's heater.

"She was pregnant." She said bluntly, a few minutes later, looking out of the window like she could see anything in road at that dark night through baby's steamed up glass.

I looked over her and catch a glimpse of her tears before she could wipe them.

"I can't believe he did this to me. Out of all the people, Jamie was the last one I expected him to betray me." She was hurting but her voice wasn't shaky. She still sounded more angry than sad.

"Maybe he didn't. Maybe the chick misused the hit of a moment to trick him."

*Why I'm defending him? He is a freaking werewolf!*

I had no idea! Maybe I was trying to soothe her pain. But Why?

"Yeah, maybe. But after all he is the one who let the devil in!" Her sound wasn't more than a whisper but it woke the old screams of my guiltyconscience in my head:

*How many times I had let the devil get in me?*

"Screw him." She said through her clenched teeth. Then she threw her head back and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "Screw him. Screw dad. And screw the whole royal pack. Screw everything!"

I sighed, knowing she will be angry for a while. So I turned on the radio, changing the stations to find something that might distract her. I just didn't need to watch that lady's upcoming tears.

I … wanna take you so far.

Out past the Saturn rings

And into my heart

The rhythm catched my attention immediately. It sounds like a nice song. A comforting one.

I wanna drive you

Wild, wild, wild

I wanna love you

For miles and miles

I chuckled, patting Baby on the wheels.

We can go slow,

we don't need to rush

I'll take the wheel,

make you feel every touch

I wanna drive you

Wild, wild, wild

"Where is the lie, Baby? I always do." I chuckled, enjoying how the song perfectly suit us.

"Are you talking to me or to your old ass car?"

I was so ready to make Y/n regret that harsh remark, yet when I turned to give her my deadliest frown, she got me almost chocked on my tongue.

"Wha …"

A lace black lingerie hanging around the right knee, she had her legs wide open on my passenger seat‌, playing with her bare core with her delicate fingers while her left foot was using dashboard to support her weight.

Lay on the passenger's side

Tell me how fast you want

We'll get there tonight

Her right strap dropped when she jolted in her sex fever, almost revealing whole of her bare chest. And all of this was happening while she still had her eyes closed, panting in pain. I felt like I lost the ability to even form a God damn sound.

Oh, fire, you set me on fire

I swear you're the only one

I'd take on this ride

"What … are you … doing?!" My voice sounded horrible, scratchy and far. I darted my tongue to wet my lips but my mouth was already dry by watching her. It was no surprise that she didn't noticed my question. She was already lost in her body. Her neck was glistening under road's occasional faint lights and now all I could feel was her warmth in the small room of the car, already surrendered to her astounding smell, in middle of a freaking winter night.

… Oh, oh

Yeah

Wanna love you

Wanna touch you

Wanna drive you

Wild, wild, wild …

I jumped out of my skin when a sudden honk drew my attention out … to the road and I finally noticed the truck that could crash us to hell if I couldn't rotate the wheel just on time.

*Dang* Something beside me hit the windshield the moment I stepped on the break. Then a shattering sound cut the air.

"Y/N!" I screamed, trying to pull over without making any other mess.

"Hey … you hear me?" I asked as I turned to see her face buried in her hairs on the dashboard. A part of the windshield was broken in an oval shape, broken pieces scattered mostly on the passenger side while the rest of it had some cracks on.

"Y/N!" I called her again but when I couldn't get any answer, I get out of the car to circulate baby and open the passenger door.

"Hey … look here, can you hear me?" I pulled her carefully back, to rest her head against the seat, securing her neck between my hands. That was when my eyes catched on the sight of a deep cut on her forehead, right under the hair line. And it was bleeding.

"Y/n?"

She moaned, goosebumps raised on her skin everywhere around my fingers.

"I think I need to lay down on the back seat." She said, before opening her eyes.

"Are you in pain?" I couldn't help myself, not knowing why I suddenly would care that much?

She smiled and I reached to wipe the oozing blood on my thumb.

"I got a first-aid box in my trunk. Just wai…"

Before I could finish my saying and right as I started to withdraw, she grabbed my arm to hold me still.

"No, help me to the back seat." For a second I got lost in her eyes, feeling an odd fultter in the dip of my stomach, pulling me like a meaningless swarf toward the magnet of her wondrous touch.

"Please."

Mostly humans know that drinking sea water or getting hit by a gunshot can cause their death. But could that knowledge stop them from exploring oceans or fighting for their honor in the war fields?

"Dean …"

"Alright."

Well, I was a human too. A human who could be attracted to unknowns, being aware that it could be very dangerous. Or maybe more marvelous.

"You ok?" I asked as soon as I had her on my back seat, gazing at the sweat running down on the side of her face while one of my legs were resting inside of car, the other: still out, planted on the ground.

"I think I've hurt my back." I spotted a tremor in her voice as she avoided my puzzled look and stared down to her lap like she was hiding a secret there. Was that weapon still hidden there in that holster?

I checked my gun to be where it should've been. If she (as a werewolf) was up to kill me (as a hunter), I knew this could be her best shot. And honestly if It was me, I would've used the same trick.

"Are you gonna wait there for the rest of the night?" She raised her eyebrows and instantly hissed as the deep cut on her forehead got wrinkled with this simple move.

Taking a deep breath, I pulling myself completely in and closed the door behind. Well, I was aware that without any way out, she could've killed me much easier. But what kind of human could touch the moon without taking any fetal risk?

However I still didn't want to hurt her. So I hoped she wouldn't do what an enemy should do.

As I was all ready to confront her attack, she slightly turned her back to me. Then she grabbed her long hair and put them aside, giving me the access to her spine.

"Can you check it for me?"

Well, if she wanted to play, I was game too. In the end, I had killed enough werewolves to know how I could manage an alpha one like her. But … it was about something more. Something way stronger: A wild need and an ancient desire to touch her bare skin on my fingertips, tongue and teeth. A perfect example of a hunter and his prey. And yet … I was feeling like the first man who was about to discover the fire too.

"Do you want me to unzip it?" I asked to be sure. Never wanted her to feel like I would hurt her honor just because we were enemies. Even when touching her was all I could think about at the moment.

"Yes, please." She whispered and I noticed the same burning wish in her soft tone. So I couldn't help my fingers run their way on her back and touch the velvety fabric of her outfit.

She inhaled loudly as I unzipped the dress, watching the goosebumps raising on her skin as I was tracking down on her spine.

"I don't think you got any wound here."

"Then why I'm in pain?" She asked, leaning back to me. And I subconsciously pulling her dress down, not knowing why my everything wanted to touch her more?

"Hunter." Her breaths got quickened and as she rested her head back on my right shoulder and nuzzled her nose in my neck, I could tell she was still burning up.

"I'm in heat." She said, panting. And that was the moment I realized she was already lost by just imagining me inside of her.

"Y/n …"

"Dean ..." She whined as her hand found the side on my head.

"Dean, I need you." With that she pushed me down to claim my lips in a lustful kiss.

I could be a caveman or a scientist, or even an astronaut but for sure she was more than a thunderstorm or the electricity or even the mars itself.

"Ah … " She whimpered, her body twisted in my arms, like an angry wounded animal that was seeking for a remedy. From her owner.

"This is such a bad idea." I said as my hands grabbed her waist, trying to control her moves when she started to roll her hips impatiently.

"That's what people always say. To Galileo, To Da Vinci, even to ..." She claimed, taking my fingers with her delicate ones, to guide my hands up on her body.

" … to whoever with … " I stole her breath as my hands reached to her soft breasts.

"With the …"

She took a shaky breath to keep herself together. But I was that man who just had landed on the moon and now wasn't able to stop trying. So I grazed my teeth on the skin of her neck, marking her with a hickey right as I squeezed her breasts, giving her aroused nipples the special attention they deserved with my thumbs. Well, she fought to not fall apart and I had to fill her blank spaces:

"Best ideas?" I asked before biting on her lips, feeling the burning heat that was coming out of her skin. Could moon ever be the sun too?

"Hunter!" She almost cried as my left hand travels down on her belly and hips to find her already swelled bud and part her labia. "HUNTER!"

This time she really screamed as my thumb brushed her bud again while my other two digits sank in her warm core. Her walls sucked on my fingers.

"OH GOD!"

I was still rubbing her nipple with my other hand when she dug her nails in my arms.

"No!" She gasped.

"No? I thought you said it's not a bad idea."

I whispered before taking her earlobe between my teeth and pulled on it as her back fought hard to arch against my body. She got speechless, drown in whatever the black hole we both had fallen into. Now time and place were lost for us so I tightened my arms more around her body.

"Shush, alpha. Take it easy." I said as I removed my fingers from where I was making her weak. And that was out of the bare truth of a human's nature. We love to possess and we love to own. Even if it's the moon and the sun or maybe a lost star in the Infinity of the universe.

She jolted forward in ecstasy and I had to grabbed her wrists firmly before she could end herself: "No."

"Please! … God." She whimpered. Thighs shaking with need and thirst. But I knew better.

"My name is Dean."

But what else could make a negligible creature like me feel like a God more than this wolf of women during her pleasure?

I kissed her shoulder and hugged her from behind, letting her cool down as our warmth were mixing in the small room of the car. She was panting again.

"Come here."

I turned her chin toward my face, tasting her lips in an open mouthed and yet tender kiss, taking my time to draw some deep moans out of her chest.

Til she was nothing more than a pounding heart or a throbbing mess and a mind which had already got blind by lust.

Somehow I wanted this prideful moment to last forever.

"Deeaaaan!" She rubbed her thighs against each other, trying her best to control her wild necessity to come. I could tell it was making her mad cause now she couldn't even sit up in my lap.

"Lay down, sweetheart" I encouraged. And as she did, I got rid of our clothes as soon as I could. When I was done, I noticed her passionate gaze on me.

"You'll be the death of me!" She admitted and I bent to lick her along her jaw.

"No, I need you alive. We still got some dirty work to do."

My whisper made her shiver. And moan. Again and again.

Looking down, I watched how her body were twisting under me, once more rubbing her thights together as I was holding her wrists up beside her head.

"Open up, alpha." I commended, reaching to her core, making her pants in pain as I mercilessly squeezed her bud.

She took another shaky breath, as she parted her legs for me. So I take the advantage to lube myself with her juice as she was already dripping.

"I said don't come yet." I slapped her breast and bent to bite her hard on the other one, sliding myself in her velvety heaven.

"DEAN!" She cried and her eyes rolled. And I tried to freeze this image in my mind. Could a God be more proud of himself?

But It was just the beginning. I decided to start my favorite rhythm to slam into her. And kept watching her bliss and how her soft and round breast were bouncing every time out hips met.

"You're doing good, sweetheart. I know you can." I could not stopped my smile when I realized she'd almost fainted, fighting against her mad orgasm.

"Aa…ha." She tried to answer but it sounded more like a painful moan which I muffled it in a kiss. Sweet and sore. Wet and shameless. We now were a part of one another. The mystery was solved. The cold God was melting in the arms of the sun. The man kind had won the moon.

"Come." I groaned and her walls clenched around me, sucking me inside of her.

Her back arched violently and I had to clutched at the leather seats to keep myself up when an unstoppable rush of pleasure hit both of us.

And just like that, we made the big trouble. The gravity that could swallow our futures all together …

"To be continued".

Temporary tag list: @akshi8278 @adoptdontshoppets @slamminmine @missafairy @anunstablefangirl @lauraashley93 @mimaria420 @roonyxx @chocolateheart @cocahood @pandaxo79 @bennyspengwing @holylulusworld

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viviskull · 2 years

Note

Nightmare for Vivi:

"Oh, my darling, you have done it know," a voice, Vivi knows too well, tells her. Her bat is in her hand, but it stays uselessly at her side. Somewhere at the edge of her sight an anchor becomes dust next to a lifeless, yellow blob. Like under a foreign spell Vivi takes one step after the other towards the voice and the sickening embrace it promises. She is free of chains, but her mind is in shackles.

"Oh, my poor thing, did you really think you can kill me?," he smiles. Blood starts flowing from his hairline over half of his face. His mirth less smile parts the red. "You're mine. You only doomed your little followers. It is your fault. So, just stop." And everything stops around Vivi as his arms surround her in darkness.

Meme | Accepting | Vivi

Her bat fell from her hands the second their sickly sweet voice coiled about her head like a snake. Even in her own mind, she was never safe to do as she pleased. Her mind was never her own, he knew her all too well. She knew this all too well. His own disgusting words always found their way of slipping in through the fragile cracks of her walls. Vivi felt so light on her feet, so untethered from her body.. Yet her thoughts felt so heavy despite her flickering resistance to fight against his words.

Her skin felt so hot, so uncomfortably warm with the fresh crimson gore that clung to her flesh and clothes. The air barely collected into her lungs as her legs involuntarily trudged over the bloody mass that littered the ground. Her own best friend, her mechanic laid limp on the floor, his limbs already twisted in so many different directions. Even from her limited gaze, how could she look away from crippled dust of her spirit’s locket too?

Panic stirred in every thought that stirred about her head. Her surroundings were starting to blur, her heart pounded hard in her chest, at every step her body took to return to the bleak presence that always lingered amongst the shadows of her sleepless rest. Her instincts screamed at her to fight, her thoughts struggled against the intoxicating wave of his enticing words. She missed him so much. She missed how he used to look at her. She missed his laugh, his smile. She couldn’t bare to be without hi-

In his arms, he felt so warm. But in her head, she felt so cold. She felt so filthy, so wrong.

"You're mine. You only doomed your little followers. It is your fault. So, just stop." “There’s no point in fighting anymore. You knew it would end like this eventually.”

Tears collected at the corners of her eyes, the only semblance of will her body could muster in his arms. The cycle just never ended. He never left. She never belonged anywhere. All she could do there was lay limp, all she could do was hide her face into his chest. All she could do..

.. Was feel a sharp pain shoot straight through her chest. Purple. All she remembered were those jagged spikes.

Waking up in a cold sweat, her body practically almost threw her out from the comfort of her hot blankets as her eyes shot open. Where was she? She jerked up into a sitting pushing her comforter off of her. Vivi darted her gaze about her room, it already was bathed in a gentle light of the moon as it quietly leaked in from her bedroom window. Oh. She was still in her bedroom. She was still in the same town she had gotten herself stuck in. She was still alone.

Although her heart still beated hard in her chest, she still tried to suck in a breath of the cold air that surrounded her. Right, she was alone; at least alongside with Mystery resting at her feet, unknowingly keeping her company. When did he get into the room? Instinctively, she reached out a palm for his head, trying to calm the shakiness that wrapped about her trembling hands. His fur felt soft against her fingers. Right.. right. She was safe. She had her friends, she had her family.

That’s all she ever needed, right?

#What's up? {Ask Blog}#Are you a ghost? {Anonymous}#Ooo! You look so cool! {Vivi}#Write it down! {Canon}#blood cw //#death cw //#((ty anon! this was fun to add too!))

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ilovefandoms102 · 4 years

Text

Part 3-Where Loyalties Lie

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Potter!Reader

Summary: A forbidden romance is betrayed when the very dark wizard who is out to kill you is your lovers master...

Taglist:

@jeyramarie @drewswannabegirl @teamnick @jiaraendgame @agirlwholovescoffee @outerbongs @jaxxandcomet @velyssaraptor @baby-pogue @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon @must-be-a-weasley-92 @kaitieskidmore1 @ma10427 @ifilwtmfc @lasnaro @justcallmesams @judayyyw @lonely-kermit @gviosca @iamaunicorn4704 @jellyfishbeansontoast @fernweh-fangirl @runway-to-my-aid @eb15 @hurricane-abigail @tangledinsparkles @amanda-rotigliano @hxfflxpxffs @bannerbubble @hybridfamily @coldlilheart @fandom-phaser @sunwardsss @http-cherries @bibliophilewednesday @evaporatedrosepetals @thetomatosaucee @tomatosauceagent @redosmo @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @susceptible-but-siriusexual @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless @obx-direction-sos @they-reblog-once-in-a-blue-moon @iraniq @nekee-lilac02 @gracielou0518 @aplaintart @wollymalfoy @thefandomplace @poguestyleskye @butterflydior

Part 2

Note: I’m so happy for the love and support you all have given me! Thank you for 500 new friends, I am grateful for each and every one of you! I can’t wait to put out more stuff for you guys!

Would anyone like for me to continue the series for how Draco and y/n raise Scorpius and go through the trials of parenthood? Maybe even include their wedding and wedding night😛...let me know in the comments or message me!

================================

Draco pushed me into the main room, his family eyeing me now. I spotted Hermione on the ground, I went to move towards her. I was stopped by an unspeakable pain, a screech left my throat as I fell just feet from her.

“Crucio!” Bellatrix shouted, waving her wand at me again.

I convulsed on the floor, screaming as the pain shot from my head to my feet. I rolled to my side, heavily breathing. I scooted to Hermione, her hand barely mustering the energy to hold mine.

“Since this filthy Mudblood won’t talk, perhaps you will Potter. Where did you get the sword?” she seethed.

“Even if I did know, I wouldn’t tell you!” I panted.

“Draco! Your wand at the ready, torture this disgusting Halfblood until she admits her faults.” Bellatrix commanded.

“She said she doesn’t know, maybe they’re telling the truth for once.” Draco answered, trying to hide his fear.

“Either you do it, or your father kills them.” Bellatrix hissed, Draco’s face going pale.

They cleared to the other side of the room, leaving just Draco and I with Hermione limp on the floor. Tears started to leak from his eyes, my heart shattered. His hand shook that held his wand, bending his head to let out a sob.

“It’s ok, do what they say.” I spoke, Draco shaking his head.

“I can’t, I can’t do it.” he sobbed, fervently shaking his head.

“Draco please! It’s the only way we’re getting out of here!” I pleaded.

“What is the meaning of this Draco!? Do it!” Lucius boomed, Draco still sobbing.

“I can’t hurt the girl I love!” Draco shouted, his family gasping.

“You cannot be serious!” Lucius shouted, Hermione’s grip on my hand tightened.

“Fine, if you cannot man up to the task...CRUCIO!” Bellatrix shouted, repeating the spell over and over.

Draco tried to come to my aid, but his father fought to hold him back. He cried as he watched me suffer one of the three Unforgivable Curses, shouting my name as I screamed in pain. I couldn’t even put into words what the pain felt like, an excruciating void of unending beats was the best way to put it.

I tried to reach out for Draco as blood started to fall from my ears and mouth, him trying to do the same with the restriction of his father.

“Please Bella! Stop, please!” Draco yelled, falling to his knees as Lucius scrapped to get a hold of him.

“That’s enough Bella,” Narcissa spoke, pulling on her sister’s arm.

“Consider yourself lucky you belong to the Dark Lord Potter. For your friend, I can’t say the same.” Bellatrix sighed.

There was a sudden commotion as Harry and Ron burst into the room, firing off spells. Draco pretended to drop one of ours, rolling it my way. I fired one at Lucius, knocking him several feet away. It was a struggle trying to get up, only to be snatched by Narcissa, my muscles too weak to fight back. Bellatrix held a knife to Hermione’s throat, Harry and Ron dropping their wands at her command.

I looked at Draco, his eyes wide with worry. There was a squeaking sound from above us, looking to see Dobby unhinging the chandelier. It came crashing down, giving enough distraction for Hermione and I to break free. I launched myself at Harry, he held me close as we all huddled to apparate out. I took one last look at Draco, he mouthed those three little words. I mouthed them back, tears shining as we apparated away.

===============================

Harry was headed to the Ravenclaw common room to find the Grey Lady, while I tried to make the Room of Requirement pop up. Just when I was about to give up, I heard creaking behind me, turning to find the Room of Requirement. Harry appeared next to me, dragging me with him.

We looked around the disastrous area for what felt like hours, clapping my hands over my ears when I heard the telling sound of the Horcrux’s. I whipped around to find Harry holding the tiara that belonged to the Helena. Just as I reached him, a voice I knew all too well sounded in the room.

“Well, well, well, look what we have here. What brings you two here?” Draco taunted, Crab and Goyle holding their wands at us as Draco did.

“I could ask you the same,” Harry answered, tugging on my wrist so that I was behind him.

“You have something of mine,” Draco spat, eyeing me before looking back to my brother.

“Why didn’t you tell her? Bellatrix? You knew it was me, and you didn’t say anything.” Harry asked, tilting his head.

“I would never hurt her,” Draco whispered, the other two Slytherin’s giving him a confused look.

“If you truly loved her-” Harry hissed, now my turn to grab his arm to pull him back.

“Harry!” I exclaimed as they all held their wands higher, at the ready to fire at us.

“Don’t be a prat Draco, do it!” Goyle seethed, Draco gulped before moving his eyes to meet mine.

In a split second, I whipped my wand out. Firing at Draco, disarming him. He turned and ran as his friends continued their assault, Hermione coming to aid. I shouted for Draco, watching as Ron ran after the Slytherin’s.

After some digging, Harry and Hermione plopped back to the ground. Ron came out of nowhere, snatching Hermione’s hand as he claimed that Goyle set the place on fire. Indeed he did as a giant fire in the shape of a snake came bounding after us.

I grabbed Harry’s hand as we weaved through the stacks of rubbish, not finding a way out. I whipped my head in search of Draco, wondering if he made it out alive. My chest burned from the fire, and the thought of the love of my life being dead in the very same room.

We bumped into some brooms, taking off to find the exit. I looked all over for Draco, not spotting him. Harry then caught my attention, whisking around to go back from where we just were. I sobbed in relief when I saw Draco, his eyes lighting up when he caught sight of me. I grabbed his arm, tugging him so he could jump on the back of the broom. He held tightly to my waist, his lips moving to kiss my cheek.

The blast from the fire knocked us off the broom once we reached outside of the Room of Requirement, Draco kissed me before taking off. Harry stabbed the tiara with the Basilisk fang, knocking both of us back.

==================================

My heart crumbled after Harry and I took Snape’s tears to watch his memories. Not only did both of us have to die to completely destroy Voldemort, but that we might not come back. I thought of Draco, that we would never get married, have children, and grow old together. Neither would Harry, but this had to be done.

We found Hermione and Ron at the bottom of the stairs just in front of the castle. huddled together. They stood once they saw us, knowing what Harry and I were about to do. Hermione crushed Harry into a hug, Ron leaning down to hug me tight.

“We all had a feeling this is how it would have to end, no one just wanted to accept it.” I spoke, pulling back to smile sadly at Ron.

“After us, it’s just the snake. Kill it, and you’ll kill him.” Harry said.

Hermione tugged me to her, crying into my shoulder. I rubbed her back, sniffling to hold in my tears. Once I pulled back, I took Harry’s hand as we made our way to the Forbidden Forest. Harry found the Resurrection Stone in the snitch, holding my hand tightly. We looked around to see our parents, Remus, and Sirius. Our mother held her hand out, I instantly went to her. My hand went through her’s, my heart clenching when I couldn’t feel her.

“You’ve been so brave my babies.” she spoke, her voice melodic as it rang in my ears. How I wished I could have heard her voice my whole life.

“You’re nearly there,” our father said, his features resembling Harry so much they almost looked like the same person.

“Does it hurt? To die?” Harry asked Sirius, my eyes leaving my mother’s to look at my Godfather.

“Quicker than falling asleep.” Sirius quipped, a small smile gracing his lips.

“I wish more than ever that none of you had to die, not like this.” I croaked, Harry nodding in agreement.

“I never wanted any of you to die for me,” Harry spoke, looking around at our lost loved ones.

“Remus, Teddy he-” I started.

“Others will tell him what his parents died for, and one day, he’ll understand.” Remus smiled, his eyes looking between Harry and I.

“You’ll be with us?” I asked.

“Until the very end.” our father answered.

“Stay close to us.” Harry said, grabbing my hand again.

“Always,” our mother replied, my eyes tearing up as they disappeared.

===========================

Voldemort had been defeated, finally freeing Harry and I from our life long torture. No more looking over our shoulders constantly, no more people that we loved would have to die for us. I could be with Draco...if I ever saw him again. He fled with his parents after Harry and I revealed to everyone that we were in fact still alive.

“We did it,” I gasped, laughing as Harry and I embraced one another.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and I were walking across the bridge that separated the castle from the outside world, mindlessly kicking the cement that littered from the battle.

“So what will you do with the most powerful wand in the world Harry?” I asked my brother, turning to face him.

I watched in horror as he broke the wand, throwing the pieces over the edge. He did the right thing though...

“Y/n...” Hermione mumbled, pointing at something behind us.

I turned around hesitantly, my heart soaring at the sight in front of me. Draco stood at the other end of the bridge, once he saw me turn he began walking. I took off in a sprint, tears rolling down my cheeks. He jogged the rest of the way, meeting me in the middle as I crashed into his arms. He spun me around, both of us laughing joyously. I pulled back to look into his eyes, a second later his lips were on mine.

Draco held tight with his arms around my lower back, my feet still off the ground. I licked my way into his mouth, challenging his tongue into a dance of passion. I moved one hand to fist it in his hair, tugging it slightly to hear him moan into my mouth. He sat me down gently, pulling away to lean his forehead to mine.

“You came back,” I sniffled, intertwining our hands.

“I’ll always come back for you my love,” he whispered.

“I love you Draco,” I smiled.

“I love you more y/n,” he sighed, pulling me into his embrace once more.

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royallyprincesslilly · 4 years

Text

Title: Sin In The City {3}****

OFC Nalani x Lewis Tan x OFC Lynix Mini Series

Warning: Cursing, NSFW AT ALL, SMUUUUT, FILTH, Threesome, Girl on Girl Action, PLENTY OF WORDS, Grocery Eating 😉, First Person POV

Words: 12.9k 🤣🤣

Summary: Nalani and Lynix have been friends since they first grew hips and tits. They do everything together. When Lewis tells Nalani that he’s in Vegas for the weekend and invites her to come out, she jumps at the chance, especially when Lewis says the more, the merrier to bringing Nix along. The long weekend goes from a fun time to putting the “sin” in Sin City thanks to a secret plot Nalani concocts.

Note: As you know @munteanhorewrites and I are HUUUUGE Lewis Tan fans. The man is just absolute deliciousness and the whole entire package. So, Ru and I got to talking about him currently being in Vegas for the long weekend, and we thought, why not treat you guys while indulging ourselves. This is going to be a four-shot miniseries where Ru and I will each write two chapters for the four-day weekend of sheer debauchery. Thank you @munteanhorewrites for suggesting we combine our evil powers. Mwhahahaha! 😈😈

We hope you enjoy this. As always, thank you guys so much for reading. ❤️❤️

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG.

Note 2: Bold Italics are an internal thought. Plain Italics are a memory. Plain Bold text messages. Please excuse the slip ups with “I” and “your”. I would have checked it but I was exhausted! 😭

Chapter Legend:

-Chapter One: @royallyprincesslilly

-Chapter Two: @munteanhorewrites

-Chapter Three: @royallyprincesslilly

-Chapter Four: @munteanhorewrites

***NOT Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Three: Thirst Comes at You Fast

-Nix-

Groaning, I rolled onto my back for the umpteenth time. The brightness of the sun was blinding, and it was even worse because you had barely slept a wink. Thanks to what I’d seen last night, I tossed and turned and had the most salacious dreams I’d had in a long time. If I were honest, those dreams were downright filthy even by your standards. Now I wasn’t some innocent little thing. Not in the least, but over the last night, I’d dreamt of so many things.

It began with sitting on the couch right in front of those large windows and watching the show Lani and Lewis were putting on. I imagined sitting there with one of those expensive bottles of champagne just sipping as Lani took every inch of him down her throat. From the looks of him, she was taking quite a few inches and then some. The way he stared at me was unlike the way anyone had looked at me.

I could tell that Lani was doing an excellent job from how his lips curled up at the side and how every so often his he grunted, making it echo over the waters of the pool. It was the sexiest sound I’d heard in a long time, and it should have been shameful how quickly it made me wet, but I felt no shame. All I felt the entire night was the slickness between my thighs that never seemed to go away, the heat in the bed though the air conditioner was on all night, and the sheets were silk and always remained cool. Whenever I found a comfortable spot, I had to roll seconds later because of the intense desire that coursed through me. It was frustrating, to say the least.

There were three things that made me cranky and bitchy. One, when I was over hungry. Two, when I was exhausted. Three, when I was horny with no way to relieve myself. This morning I’d found myself struggling with numbers two and three, and one was steadily creeping up on me. As I showered, I still couldn’t get what I’d witnessed last night out of my mind. This time I zeroed in on the way Lewis had gripped Lani’s head and fucked her throat. The sounds coming from her made it seem like he was hitting places in her throat she’d never known.

Without even realizing it, my hand crept down my belly to the apex of my thighs. Quickly, I pulled my hand away and hit the tiled wall.

“Fuck! This cannot be happening.”

My head ran to Lani’s words from the other day.

“How would you feel about a threesome with me and Lewis.”

She was serious. I knew it from the look in her eyes. When Lani was serious about something, she had this determined look.

“You don’t need to be alone. It can be a one off thing. I’ll take care of you; Lewis will take care of you. It’ll be fun.”

The thought of that had me pausing as the soap washed from my body. If I was honest with myself, that didn’t sound half bad. There were benefits of threesomes; I thought to myself as I tried to formulate a list of pros and cons.

“Pro, complete pleasure on all fronts.”

Just thinking of the possibilities for pleasure had goosebumps peppering my skin. As soon as I began thinking about that pleasure, I thought of a con.

“Con, pity fuck.”

That was all it took for me to eighty-six the idea and finish up with my shower. Once out, I tackled the daunting task of my hair. That alone usually took me almost an hour, depending on the style I chose. Today I wanted something sleeker, which meant busting out my flat iron. Deciding on a chill look for the day, I opted for as little makeup as possible before making it to my luggage to choose my outfit for the day.

Once I made it downstairs, I could smell the food and coffee and knew that Lani and Lewis had probably already started without me. It was fine. I needed that extra time to myself to steel myself to be in the same room as him, especially after last night. When I descended the steps and turned into the dining area, Lani was the first to see me. Her face brightened like the sun after a sun shower as she got up and made her way to me.

When she threw her arms around me, I returned the embrace. From behind her, Lewis sat at the table still. His eyes met mine, and again, the look in them was enough to light a match on sight. He was the one to look away first, though.

“You decided to take your sweet time this morning,” Lani teased.

“Yeah, I just needed some me time.”

Lani peeped into my eyes while crinkling her brow, nonverbally asking if I was okay. Giving her a soft smile, I rubbed her back.

“I’m good best friend.”

The two of you walked back to the table. Lani walked around it to sit beside Lewis again.

“Good morning Nix.”

The way he said my name made butterflies flit in my belly. Swallowing the small lump that had formed in your throat, I spoke. “Good morning.”

Once I was sitting, I reached for the orange juice pitcher. If I were lucky, it would be mimosas. Pouring it into the glass, I took a small sip and sighed. Bingo, I thought.

“How’d you sleep?”

Glancing at him, I nodded. “Great. I mean, not great, but fine.”

“What happened?”

Lani was pouting now.

“Nothing really, just tossed for a bit. It was so damn hot,” I informed as I piled my plate with an assortment of the food on the table.

“I wasn’t hot last night. It was cold. I had to snuggle close to Lew,” Lani expressed.

“Yeah. We were fine. Maybe it’s one of those things you just have to—ride,” Lewis suggested.

I could feel his eyes on me, and ninety-five percent of me said don’t look up, don’t chance it to find out. The other five percent said just take a peek; that one peek won’t hurt. It was that five percent I listened to. When I looked at him, he’d just popped a strawberry into his mouth. My eyes instantly dropped to his lips, and I watched him chew the fruit. He did it impossibly slow. When he snaked his tongue out to lick his lips, I could have come just like that. When I looked back to Lewis’s face, his eyes were on me.

The way he looked at me had a fire creeping up my spine so slowly that its burn felt like a blaze that fanned out throughout your body. He knew he had sex appeal, and from his look alone, he knew how to use it as a weapon.

“So--,” Lani stretched out bring my attention to her.

“Maybe we should talk about the elephant in the room.”

Crinkling my brow, I put a piece of the strawberry pancakes that were in front of me into my mouth.

“Last night. Me and Lew. You saw,” Lani enlightened.

My eyes dropped back to my plate as I pretended to intently focus on swirling the strawberries around in the strawberry syrup and powdered sugar mixture.

“It’s okay, Nix; you don’t have to be embarrassed about it. We didn’t think,” Lani explained.

“It’s fine. It’s his penthouse and your—you can do whatever.”

“Funny choice of words,” Lewis murmured before he tilted his head back and dropped a few blueberries into his mouth.

Glancing at him, I saw Lani rest her hand atop his chest as she smiled then whispered something in his ear. Lewis smiled and kissed her. Watching the carnal kiss between them, I couldn’t look away. As I was going to, Lewis’s eyes met yours again. It was probably one of the most sinful things you’d seen. As he was passionately kissing Lani, he was giving me eyes that said come join in.

I have to be imagining that.

Lowering my eyes, I focused on the food and tried to ignore the moans across the table. I usually wasn’t a prude, I was pretty free with my body and inhibitions, but I felt as if I were crowding them for some reason. Like I shouldn’t be there.

“So--,” Lani began again a sing-song in her voice.

She was in such a good mood. Why wouldn’t she be? The effort I’d seen her put into getting all that thing in her mouth said he gave her several inches of reasons to be happy.

“It’s cool, Lani, I understand. What’s the plan for the day?”

Lewis and Lani looked at each other and smirked before Lani sly shrugged.

“I thought we could hop on some ATVs and ride through the desert,” Lewis piped up.

Lani’s eyes widened at the same time mine did.

“That sounds so fun but dirty,” Lani said.

“Getting dirty is all the fun,” Lewis said at the same time I did. Our eyes met again, and I saw the playfulness in them.

“See, Nix gets it,” Lewis added, making you smirk.

“Okay, ATVs in the desert it is,” Lani confirmed at the same time my phone rang.

Glancing down, I realized it was Cesar. I would have rolled my eyes, but right now, I needed the distraction.

“I’m gonna--,” I began pointing to my phone.

“Yeah, you can use the office around the corner if you need some privacy,” Lewis offered.

I rose from the table with my phone in hand and made my way to the office. Before I turned the corner, I heard Lani shout after me.

“That better not be Caesar’s clingy ass. I rebuke him!”

Pinching my lips, I dipped into the room but heard Lewis’s voice before I pulled up the door just a bit.

“Who’s Caesar?”

Leaning on the edge of the executive size desk, I looked out the window and answered.

“Hey, Caesar.”

“Hey there, angel face.”

The sound of the pet name he’d always called me had me smiling for a few moments.

“I went by your apartment earlier. Were you asleep?”

“No, I’m not in Miami.”

The silence on the line stretched.

“Oh yeah? Where you at?”

I thought about it for a little while. Caesar was a jealous guy. He was also territorial. It always led to an argument of some sort. At times I didn’t mind it, but other times, it was a pain in the ass.

“Nix,” Caesar breeched.

“Vegas for the weekend,” I replied.

“You alone, or is Lani with you?”

“What’s with all the questions?”

“I just miss you. I wanted to spend some time together.”

I walked closer to the floor to ceiling window and gazed out over the view of Vegas. The sin in sin city was resting for now, but I knew it would awaken once again by the time six hit.

“C, we talked--,” I began before he cut me off.

“You’re tryna tell me you don’t miss me?”

I almost laughed out loud. I didn’t miss him per se.

“C, let’s not do this.”

“Wow, Nix. Are you fucking kidding me? For the last month and a half, we’ve been working on getting back together.”

“You’ve been working for that, C,” I thundered before lowering my voice a tad bit lower to continue. “You’ve been the one fueling this. I told you that I wasn’t sure. I told you that it might not be a good idea.”

“What am I supposed to listen to? Your words or you spending nights at my apartment?”

He was right. I’d muddied the waters by turning him into my sporadic fuck buddy even though I knew it was a bad idea.

“Horniness was the root of all evil and bad decisions,” I whispered out, pressing my forehead to the glass.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, C. Look, how about we talk when--.”

“Everything okay in here?”

Glancing back, I saw Lewis filling the doorframe. He wore a pair of dark ripped jeans that hugged his long legs so well and a black short-sleeve Henley that accentuated the size of his biceps and showed off how good of a shape he was in. Unconsciously my teeth sunk into my bottom lip. He looked fucking good.

“Who the fuck is that? You said it was you and Lani.”

Cesar’s voice was so loud it had me coming to my senses. I pulled my eyes from Lewis and looked back out the window.

“Yeah, everything is fine,” I replied to Lewis before responding to Cesar. “C, we’ll talk when I get back.”

“No, who the fuck is that? Nix, don’t play with me,” Cesar cautioned. I could hear the jealously in his voice.

“We’re ready to go. Thought I’d come to get you,” Lewis informed.

“Yeah. C, I gotta go.”

Before Cesar could respond, I ended the call and sighed out.

“Are you okay?”

His voice was coming from behind me. When I turned, he was resting on the desk with one leg up and the other planted on the floor.

“Uh—yeah, fine,” I lied.

“You don’t look okay. You didn’t sound okay a little while ago. I hear you shouting.”

Nodding, I shrugged, trying to play off your annoyance. It was your own fault.

“Boyfriend?”

“I told you, I don’t have one of those.”

Lewis nodded and sipped from the glass I just realized he held. From where I stood, it smelled tropical, and you guessed it was some fruit juice.

“Okay, so not a boyfriend—maybe a friend with benefits?”

Lewis quickly clenched his jaw. It was so quick I almost missed it. That one action had my interest piquing all the way up. What was that for?

“I don’t have one of those either. He was a horny mistake,” I admitted before turning my back to him again.

“Ah, horniness. I see. You settled, and now you can’t get rid of him. Sucks to be you.”

I felt his breath brush against my ear, and the scent of pineapple and grapefruit hit your nose. I could also feel the warmth from his body. He was close. Holding my breath, I kept my body as still as possible and waited for the moment to pass.

Lewis now stood beside me, looking out the vast windows you were. Neither of you spoke. You focused on the tease in his voice. He was taunting me. Every so often, the soft clinking of ice against crystal echoed in the room, reminding me that I wasn’t alone. Not that I could ever think that. His scent was too powerful. He smelled earthy like he walked through the thick of Guam's forests, then went to the mountains of Tibet to soak up the scent of freshly fallen snow and fresh air. To top it off, I could pick up faint traces of salt. Not cooking salt but the salt of the ocean. The other subtle hints of rose and some exotic flower only made him that more delectably alluring. It was such a good scent.

“In life, I’ve learned that lesson. Never settle. No matter what it is, never settle. You deserve the best, and the best will come.”

I looked at him at the same moment he looked at me. Our eyes lingered, but we didn’t speak. There didn’t feel like there was a need to.

“Plus, you’re too beautiful for the universe not to bend to your will,” Lewis finished.

My belly fluttered, and without even realizing it, my body swayed sideways. By the time I realized it, I was leaning so far sideway that I lost my balance. With reflexes like nothing I’d ever seen before, Lewis reached out and caught me, pulling me to his body. That was when my skin decided to shoot fire throughout my body. The beauty in his cognac eyes only served as another distracting factor. Now that I was closer, the scents that were subtle before were now more prominent.

I wonder if he tastes like the sea.

The thought was a quick one, but it also quickly ruined you. Feeling my nipples bead underneath my thin shirt, I silently prayed he was none the wiser. A flicker of fire sparked in his eyes that made them appear slightly darker. I watched his tongue slowly snake across his full bottom lip. He was wiser. He’d noticed.

Before he could speak, I pulled away but did it a little too quickly. Lewis’s hand slid from my back to my hips and steadied me. Once I was steady, he didn’t lower them; instead, I felt him squeeze my shapely hips. I thought of moving but I couldn’t. Seconds later, it was Lewis who stepped back, dousing that magnetic energy between you that had encompassed the room.

“Em—you might wanna--change for the desert,” Lewis suggested.

Without a word, I walked out of the room and hurried to my room, the whole time admonishing myself for whatever the hell that was.

Once the three of us got into the chauffeured car, I’d managed to pull myself together and find my chill and detachment. I kept one ear on the conversation in the car, so I could respond when needed. For the most part, I was lost, creating a new blog post about your weekend while going through comments on your post on IG yesterday. You were going to ignore the hot man in the car as long as you could.

When the car rolled up to our destination, my jaw dropped. For as far as I could see, there was nothing but sand. It gave me a sense of peacefulness.

“This is gonna be so lit,” Lewis said as he clapped his hands before he dropped a heavy-handed slap to Lani’s ass, making her squeal and giggle.

“Lewis,” Lani whined as he led the way chuckling to himself.

For the next fifteen minutes, we listened to the rules, safety precautions, and expectations. After there was a quick demo on how to operate the ATV, then we all signed waivers. Once the formalities were out of the way, each of us ran to an ATV. The one I chose was a camo printed one that looked so badass. I was so excited, and once I climbed on, I glanced over to Lewis, whose eyes were already on you, but they were not looking at my eyes. They were much lower on your ass. Scoffing, I shook my head then revved my engine.

“Get into it!”

With that, I sped off, leaving Lewis and Lani in my wake. It didn’t take long for Lani to pull up beside you. she shouted out into the open air then sputtered, spitting out sand. I couldn’t help but laugh at her. Hearing a sound on the other side of me, I turned and saw Lewis. He was now in a tank with his shirt tied around his mouth like a mask. Genius, I thought. I could hear his muffled words but couldn’t make them out. Shrugging, I spoke into my helmet mouth guard.

“Sorry, can’t hear you above the sound of you eating my dust!”

Picking up the speed, I pulled ahead. When they caught up again, I swerved in another direction and did it again and again. Each time I swerved, someone took over the lead. Neither of us kept lead for long. Each one of us had a strong competitive side.

A few hours passed with desert riding. Lewis was the one to be the show-off. He did flips, standing tricks, and other dangerous stunts while Lani and I looked on with our mouths wide. His adventurous side called to me, making it impossible to steer clear of your rapidly increasing thirst for him.

It also didn’t help to watch on as he and Lani kicked up the PDA. Almost every time I glanced around, Lani was either hugging on him from the back of his ATV, or his tongue was down her throat. They were cute, but it only made me think of watching them last night, and that made me think of Lani’s suggestion for a threesome. That suggestion hadn’t left my mind all day. I was still so frustrated that the idea of it was not as gobsmacking as it had been. The more and more Lewis’s eyes found you or parts of my body from across the desert, the further away from shocking you got.

Because of Lani’s whining over how sandy she was, we took a break letting her clean off a bit. I didn’t mind the dirt. While she cleaned up, it left Lewis and me alone. We played around on the ATVs, just acting like kids. It was a lot of fun. After a while, I suggested we stop to capture some of our surroundings for my blog and social media. Lewis agreed, wanting to get his own shots.

I took video after video and even recorded a few short ones before taking several selfies. When I looked over to Lewis, I watched as he unbuttoned his jeans to peel them off quickly. There was no way I could look away. I was confused as to what he was doing and, honestly, who would look away. Once free from the jeans, he pulled off his tank leaving the scarf he’d worn from before.

“How is it possible for him to look like he belongs in the desert too?”

The wind picked up, and the sand blew around him as he stared out toward where the sun shone. My eyes traveled over every dip and curve of his perfectly lean and toned body. No wonder Lani was in heavy lust. He looked like he not only broke backs but possibly parts of the female anatomy.

Lewis looked back, and for a few moments, it looked like he was walking in slow motion.

Holy Shit.

Before I even realized it, he was standing in front of me.

“You got a little drool,” Lewis teased before he hopped onto the bumper of your ATV.

“Whatever. You wish.”

It was a weak rebuttal and nowhere near believable. We sat in silence for a little while, taking in the scenery.

“It’s beautiful huh.”

“Yeah. Makes you feel like the only human left on earth,” I added.

“Well, if I were the only human left on earth, I’d want you with me.”

Our eyes met again, and my heart raced, making me look away. Again, the silence stretched until you found something to say.

“I’m really sorry about last night,” I began.

Lewis snorted, making you look at him again with confusion etched on my face.

“What’s so funny?”

Lewis didn’t speak right away; instead, he studied me as if he were looking for something. He sighed then licked his lips.

“Do you know what I see in your eyes?”

“What?”

“You’re not sorry.”

My jaw dropped, and my eyes bugged. “What!”

“Yeah. You’re not sorry you saw. You’re sorry you got caught,” Lewis cockily informed.

“Caught? What am I a child? It’s not like I snuck out there to spy.”

“No, I know that. I do know, though, that if I hadn’t looked up and seen you, you probably would have continued watching.”

He got me there. I probably would have. It was a good show.

“Again, your eyes say it all. Not only are they completely hypnotizing, but they’re also very expressive.”

Was he hitting on me?

The look on his face said he might have been, but his eyes were masked. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“All day, I’ve been trying to figure out if your physical reaction to my touch is an instinctual thing or if it’s more.”

Wow, I thought. The man was so self-assured. He didn’t come off insecure at all. It was both attractive and slightly annoying. No man should be that confident. I looked away and hopped off the ATV, sinking into the sand. Before I could walk off, I felt his body behind me, barely touching me, and his hand spread across my stomach, keeping me in place.

Oh, fuck. This is not what I needed right now.

Lewis didn’t speak. He just remained perfectly still. The longer his hand remained on my stomach, the hotter it seemed to get. I didn’t know how long passed with us standing like that, but I was sure it was long enough for the heat from his hand to sear away the high waist of my biker shorts. It had to have been. It felt like there was no barrier between his hand and your skin.

On your left, you felt his other hand slowly snake up the length of your arm. Where it went, it left an agonizing burn that slowly at away at you. By the time Lewis’s hand made it to your shoulder, he moved your hair so his head could gently touch the side of your face. Still, the smell of his skin wasn’t masked by the sand all around him. It hadn’t done anything at all. I heard him take a deep inhale before he moaned.

“I know what you want, Nix. I can see it every time I look into your eyes. Fuck I can feel it. All you have to do is say the words.”

I could feel his touch on my neck as if he really did touch me, but alas, he never did. He was so close. All he had to do was tip out his tongue. Lewis released a guttural groan.

“Put us both out of our misery, Sunshine,” Lewis finished before he released you and walked away toward an approaching Lani.

“Son of a bitch.”

~~~~~~~~

It was lunchtime, and I was starving and hornier than I’d been before we left. Only now it wasn't because I’d inadvertently saw Lewis and Lani together, no it was because of Lewis’s words. I had no idea what he meant by he knew what I wanted. How the hell could he know that? I didn’t even fully know what I wanted. Every few hours, it changed.

When Lewis, Lani, and I got back to the penthouse, we showered and changed, then made it to another beautiful restaurant. Deciding not to pretend I were less hungry than I was, I ordered whatever I wanted. As we all ate, the conversation was never strained. Lani told stories of the countless adventures we’d had, all the while never leaving out not one embarrassing detail. Throughout the stories, Lewis looked genuinely interested. He listened with a tuned ear and sincere interest. I liked watching the different emotions light up his face. It was like reliving the memory but through someone else’s eyes.

Every once in a while, Lewis’s eyes found mine, but again they were masked and almost detached. It was an interesting change from earlier, one that had me doubting what I thought I saw and heard.

At times when he spoke to me, his choice of words always threw me. When asked if he wanted more of the dim sum, he looked at me and said, “I want it.” When Lani complimented her food, Lewis looked at me, bit his bottom lip, and said, “Bet it tastes good.” I squirmed, shifted, and tried to handle it throughout lunch, but the last thing he said threw you. We were all eating dessert. I’d chosen something simple like a sorbet while he and Lani went in on some decadent chocolate, vanilla, and cherry concoction. They took turns teasing me about wanting it. It was Lewis who locked eyes with me and rocked all reserve with his “you want this deep inside.”

What the fuck was I supposed to say to that? I had no idea, and he knew I had nothing. He also knew he’d had an effect. He’d had such a profound effect that my panties were now uncomfortably soaked. Asshole, I thought. He knew he was one; the sly smirk on his face said it. You watched him dip his spoon into his mouth and moan. He was pleased with himself.

After lunch, I had steam to blow, so gambling was my suggestion. What else would bring almost as much pleasure as sex than winning more money than you came with? We went from table to table, placing bets, dropping chips, and claiming double what was wagered. Lani was a pro at Roulette, which she proudly showed off, winning two grand like it was easy. I was a monster at Blackjack. No matter the casino, or the deck of cards, or even those around me. I dominated the Blackjack table for almost two hours, winning hand after hand until management capped my winnings at six grand. I understood. They didn’t want me cleaning them out. Lewis was an ace at Poker and Craps and gladly let his cocky side.

Before every roll of the dice, Lewis held them out for both Lani and me to blow on. The first time he held them out to me, I was confused. That was when he said, “Blow me.” The look he gave me had way too much effect on me. His amusement from my delayed reaction was evident, and he enjoyed making you pause. Roll after roll had him winning game after game at the Craps table. Every time he won, Lani wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged his head to her breasts.

Their antics brought so many eyes, including mine, but I was having so much fun winning that I didn’t care when Lani pulled me into a sandwiched hug with Lewis in the middle leaving his head was pressed between yours and Lani’s breasts. Lewis crept his hand around my hip, resting it right at my hip bone. That was when I could have sworn I felt lips slide across my nipple. The instantaneous reaction began with my nipple hardening and my back arching slightly, all while a soft moan rolled from my lips. When I glanced down, Lewis was looking at me, and for a second, I forgot where I was and who I was.

Lani cleared her throat, pulling my attention to her. The look on her face said all you needed to know. She was liking the way things were going.

When I shied away from Lani and Lewis, I tested out a few of the slot machines wanting to try your luck there. It took some time for your streak to start, but there was no stopping it once it did. You struck gold every time you pulled down the handle on the side of the machine.

“Either you’ve got the Midas touch, or you’re rigging the machine.”

You turned and saw Lewis standing there looking at the machine.

“How would I have rigged it?”

He shrugged and leaned on the seat I was sitting in. “There are ways.”

“I just have the Midas, I guess.”

Lewis smiled and nodded. “Looks like it. How much have you won today?”

“More than you make in a month,” I teased.

The laugh Lewis let out brought so many eyes to us, and he didn’t seem to care. I liked that he didn’t pay attention to others and focused on being himself.

“Wow, you have quite the sass, huh.”

I shrugged and pulled the lever again. We watched the screen as the images rolled in, showing off another win.

“I should keep you by my side at all times. You just may be the luckiest woman I’ve ever met.”

Before I could answer, another voice to my left drew my attention.

“I second that.”

He was tall, with a perfect jawline that was so chiseled it could have cut steel. His eyes were a deep green close to the color of seaweed, and his smile said he should work as a game show host or something.

“Name’s Brian. I couldn’t help but watch you. You’re gorgeous.”

On your right, Lewis scoffed in such a way there was no misinterpreting what it meant.

“Uh—Lynix,” I replied.

“Such an exotic name, almost reminds me of a Lynx cat, of course, sexier,” Brian added.

“Oh boy, here we go,” Lewis chimed in. I glanced at him with a curious look, wondering why he was acting like this.

“You are?”

Lewis turned to the newcomer crossing his arms over his chest, making his biceps pop in the polo shirt he wore.

“Don’t worry about all that. No one asked you to come over here.”

My jaw dropped because that sound a lot like possessiveness. Brian stood tall and turned to Lewis as well.

“Who can stay away from a beautiful woman like her? All I wanted to do was get next to greatness,” Brian slid in, making me smile. He was smooth. Looking at Lewis’s face, he didn’t look amused.

Right when Lewis was about to say something, Lani came by giving Brian the once over.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” I answered before Lewis could. Lani looked at me then, Brian. It was her asking if she wanted him gone. I slightly shook my head. I wanted to play this out.

“Who’s your friend?”

“This is Brian. He was just about to take me for a drink. Right, Brian?”

Brian looked surprised by that, but not for long. A few seconds after I said it, his smile spread again.

“Absolutely.” He held out his arm and waited for me to take it. When I did, I glanced at Lewis, whose jaw was clenched and eyes blazing. You knew a displeased man when you saw one, and he was definitely displeased.

While I had a drink with Brian at one of the bars and listened to him talk about his time in Vegas, I saw Lani and Lewis at the bar as well. They were drinking and whispering, having a grand ol’ time, but every so often, Lewis glanced over to you with the only annoyed look on his face. When he did, Lani looked amused, giving me a look that said she peeped it. Halfway through my drink, my phone went off.

MSG Lani: Pity fuck huh. 🙄

I looked at her, narrowed my eyes then gave her the same eye roll she gave me in text. She wasn’t funny, not one bit. However, she might have a point, I thought. As I continued my conversation, Lani and Lewis came over to join you. Lani went on Brian’s right while Lewis came up to your left. He was close enough for me to smell the dark rum that swirled with his cologne. While Lani talked to Brian, he focused all his attention on her.

“Another horny mistake?”

His voice was a whisper that made it easier to smell the rum he was drinking. Lewis took another sip from his heavy crystal glass, but he didn’t look at me. He kept his eyes on the plethora of bottles decorating the wall of the bar.

“Who said I was horny?”

Lewis then looked at me and smirked. “Aren’t you?”

I looked over the features of his face and got lost on his lips. They looked soft and well cared for.

Jesus, I’m lusting.

“Are you?”

Lewis took another sip then sucked in a slow breath through his mouth. He didn’t speak for several moments. He just stared into my eyes like he was looking for something.

“If you only knew,” Lewis whispered before looking away to finish his glass of Rum this time.

“I’m sure Lani can help with that. There are plenty of corners, although I doubt you two need corners or privacy.”

In seconds you felt Lewis’s breath on my ear. “What do you need, Nix?”

Holy Shit!

Though I tried, I couldn’t get any words to pass my lips. Not one.

“All you have to do is say the words, tell me,” Lewis whispered again, his lips softly grazing my ear.

My heart was racing so fast that I was sure there was no way he didn’t hear it. I was also sure that he could smell my arousal. I was that wet. Someone’s phone went off, and the unexpected sound broke the tension of the moment. Clearing my throat, I stood and adjusted my skirt.

“Dinner. I think we should get to dinner,” I stuttered, walking away.

I needed to get upstairs to that bedside drawer, and I needed to get there now. The car ride was the longest. As I sat there beside Lani, I couldn’t stop squirming. Every move I made, the slickness between my legs only turned me on more.

MSG: Did you tell him?

MSG Lani: Tell who what?

MSG: Don’t play innocent with me, Lani. Did you tell him?

Lani looked at me, and I narrowed my eyes. There was no way she didn’t bring up her threesome plan to him. He’d gone from mildly seductive just from his aura to extremely panty soaking in one day. Lani rolled her eyes and tapped into her phone.

MSG Lani: I did, but before you get mad, it wasn’t any serious. I just said I mentioned it to you.

MSG: Lani!

MSG Lani: Don’t be mad. It’s no big deal.

MSG: What did you say?

MSG Lani: That I’d asked, and you turned me down. He wanted to know why, and I said you had your reasons.

I didn’t fully believe her.

MSG Lani: I promise it’s no big deal.

Sighing, I slipped my phone between my knees, leaned back, and willed the car to hurry up.

Once we got back to the hotel, Lani said she’d meet us upstairs because she wanted to book a spa treatment for tomorrow. I didn’t need to be told twice. The elevator ride with Lewis wasn’t uncomfortable; it was more tense than anything else. Both of our eyes remained on the changing dial as the floors ticked away. Neither of us spoke. When I did have the courage to look over at him, I saw that his jaw clenched, his arms crossed, but his back was straight as an arrow.

Unexpectedly Lewis looked over to me, and it felt like he was daring me to do something. His lips were curled into a sly sort of smile before he bit his bottom lip. My belly fluttered, making me drop my eyes, but when I did, it landed it on something unexpected. The bugle in his pants had almost all of your reserve falling, leaving only one measly ounce. Thankfully, the doors opened into the hall leading to the penthouse. I made a mad dash toward the door and inside. Not sparing another look at Lewis, I hightailed it to my bedroom.

Once inside, I stripped and hurried into the shower, hoping that the water would help with the slickness I felt that only fueled my arousal even more. It was next to impossible to stop thinking about someone bending me over in the shower, but somehow you managed to focus on getting clean rather than getting dirtier.

After my shower, I only felt less wet but still horny as ever. I was barely able to get through putting on my makeup. My hands kept shaking at the worst times, and my concentration was shot to shit. I’d wanted my makeup to match the dress I planned on wearing, but I couldn’t even get that together for the life of me.

“Get your shit together, Nix.”

Another few minutes found me just giving up on the elaborate eye makeup I’d wanted and dropping my brush in frustration. I rested my forehead on my hand and took a few deep breaths.

“Fuck it!”

I got up, walked over to my bed, and laid down. Once I reached inside the drawer to get my vibrator. Instead of using it our the gate, I slipped my fingers between my legs, only becoming half surprised to find I was already as wet as I’d been before I got into the shower. I ran my fingers up and down my slickened slit once, then twice and third. Each time I shuddered from the delicate pleasure that rolled through me. A soft but husky moan escaped my throat.

Dipping my fingers into my heat, I brought the slickness back to my clit and circled the desperate bud. It wasn’t long before I’d closed my eyes and focused on the pleasure that was increasing by leaps and bounds with each passing second. Dripping my thighs back to the bed, I sped my movements making tight circles rather than the bigger ones from before.

“Oh my god, yes!”

There was no way I was going to last much longer. I could already feel the tension filling the pit of my stomach. Dipping my fingers back inside my cavern, I used them to replicate what I imagined Lewis did. At the thought of him, my eyes flew open to stare at the ceiling. While Lani was giving him head, I hadn’t been able to see just what he was blessed with. The only indication I’d gotten was from the constant gagging Lani did. She had said that he was more endowed than anyone she’d been with. I was curious now.

My fingers had sped their plunge, and with it, so did the moans that fell from my lips. Soon your moans and whimpers cascaded from you. By the time I wondered if Lewis could hear me, I was too far gone. It was then I looked down my body to find Lewis at the door watching me. I should have screamed and clamped my legs shut or even hid from shame or embarrassment, but I didn’t do any of that.

Instead, I bit my bottom lip and slowly took my fingers from my body to bring them back to my clit.

“Mmmm, yes.”

Lewis took a few steps more into my room and toward the bed. Our eyes never left one another, and the longer he stared, the more turned on you were becoming. When Lewis made it to the bed's foot, his eyes dropped to your sex, and another whimper escaped you.

“Fuck!”

His voice was strangled, and his eyes on fire. Earlier it looked like it was anger or annoyance, but now it was neither of those.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful, Nix.”

Lewis dropped to the floor, coming eye level with your sex. He then took a deep inhale.

“Mmmm, you smell incredible. Do you taste as good as you smell?”

The combination of his voice and his words had my back arch slightly off the bed.

“Does it feel good, Nix?”

I nodded.

“Tell me how good.”

“So—So—good.”

Lewis groaned, focused on your pussy. He looked almost transfixed. After a few seconds, his jaw dropped, and I could have sworn I saw a little drool at the corner of his mouth, but before it dribbled, he closed it again.

“Goddamn, you’re so wet. Be a good girl and show me.”

I brought my hand away, dipped it into my heat, and pulled it back to show him the slickness that coated my fingers. I heard an audible growl fill the room. The fact that it came from him only ruined me more. Dipping my fingers back inside, I did what I knew would get me off.

“That’s right. Fuck that pussy, Sunshine. Show me how you like it.”

Bringing my other hand into the mix, I circled my clit then looked at Lewis again. He looked like he’d inched closer, and I wanted him to bury his face in to take over.

“Mmm, you’re so tight, I can tell. Spread that pussy open for me.”

Doing as I was told, I spread it, but I never slowed the tight circles around my clit. I was so close.

“You’re gonna come? Come for me, Nix. Let me see how beautiful you are when you come.”

My whimpers turned into whines, and my tight circles turned sloppy and staggered as did the speed of my fingers thrusting in and out of my sopping core. In seconds my toes curled, and I’d bent off the bed as if I was a bridge.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck Lewis!”

My body shook for several long moments as I rode the waves of ecstasy and relished the tingles that spread through my body. I’d been holding a lot of tension, and now I could feel the little bubbles popping in thin air as they exited my body. When I looked back at Lewis, he was so close. Inching up, I withdrew me soaked digits and brought them to Lewis’s lips. Without needing to be told, he opened his mouth and sucked each and every one of my fingers clean.

“Mmm, you taste amazing. Let me clean you up and eat that pretty pussy baby. I want it so bad.”

That was what you wanted to. It amazed you how badly you wanted him to clean up the mess you’d made of yourself. As you opened your mouth to speak, you heard Lani shout your name. Lewis looked as if he’d found his senses. He rubbed his forehead and sighed before he stood from your bed foot.

“I’m—sorry.”

With that, he was gone. Though you were satisfied, I could feel the heat rising again.

An hour later found me dressed, collected, and at a steakhouse with Lani and Lewis. Thank to my release, my body was more relaxed now, but my mind was a chaotic erotic nightmare. I couldn’t stop replaying what happened in my bedroom and he gall I’d had to feed him my fingers to clean off. The fire I’d seen in his eyes and the yearning I’d head in his voice was something I hadn’t expected.

Would it really be a pity fuck?

Lani flirted with Lewis using her seductive touches and whispers, and I could tell that he was hanging on but barely. Deciding to toy with him a little, I did what Lani did, but more subtly. When she ate off his plate, I did too. When she held his hand on top of the table, I slyly allowed my body to touch him underneath the table. When Lani leaned into him, I leaned over him to take a piece of food from Lani’s plate. The whole time I knew that he could see my cleavage.

By the time we’d moved on to dessert, Lewis was the one squirming and downing his drink like his thirst was unquenchable. I loved seeing him squirm. He thought he had this power and control. He needed to be humbled to realize just which sex had the power in the world. When Lewis went to talk to the owner of the restaurant, I filled Lani in and tried to get whatever information she had. I knew she couldn’t be an innocent bystander, and she wasn’t.

“I can’t believe you told him that.”

Lani nodded. I saw the remnants of his drink and finished the glass. The burn of the dark liquor was intense against my tongue.

“So, he’s been acting like this all day on purpose?”

“Lani smirked, giving the answer away. I couldn’t help but snort, bringing my hand to my head, smacking myself.

“If you needed more evidence that you’re attracted to him or him attracted to you, then you have this entire day. Hell, you have the casino.”

I looked at Lani silently, asking her to continue.

“I saw how he was when that guy came over and flirted. Lewis can keep his cool about a lot of things, but I can always tell when he’s jealous.”

“Jealous!? Lani, get real. That’s yo man. He wouldn’t be jealous.”

Lani pulled me closer to her and rested her chin on my shoulder. “Why do you think I was so adamant about you coming this weekend?”

Glancing to her, my brows crinkled, wondering what the hell she was talking about.

“As I said, I’m only cool with sharing with you. A while ago, I knew Lew would like you, and I couldn’t think of anything better than having you by my side while we have some fun.”

Snorting, I shook my head. “Lani--,” I began.

“Stop frontin. You know you like him. You know this whole day you’ve been horny and wet for him.”

At that moment, a thought filled me, making me gasp loudly, snapping my head to Lani.

“Oh my god, did you put him up to this Nalani?”

“Damn, my whole name, huh.”

“You did!”

I dropped my forehead into my hands while resting my elbows on the table. I couldn’t believe this. It kind of felt like my best friend was pimping me out to her sexy as hell fuck buddy.

“Lani, you’re pimping me out.”

“I am not. Think of this as more than sex. This could be something.”

Rolling my eyes, I sighed, “Like what, a contractual fuck buddies situation?”

“Shut up. No. Like he flies us where he goes, and we soak up the culture of the world while enjoying his company and the perks of it,” Lani explained, raising her eyebrows for emphasis.

“Oh my god. We don’t need anyone to help us soak up the culture of the world, Lani. We do good on our own.”

“True. It’s just—sometimes, it’d be nice if someone took care of us the way we take care of ourselves. Ya’ know?”

I did know. I understood her completely. While it was great being able to do things and get things for yourself, it was also nice to be taken care of by someone on a different level. Sighing, I sat back and pondered her words. She had a point. Maybe I needed to just give in to what I really wanted. From across the restaurant, I could see Lewis talking to the owner. They were laughing like they’d been long time friends. The comfort between the two was evident. When he glanced back to Lani and me and pointed us out, the owner said something to him with a smile on his face—a smile Lewis returned with a nod.

“Let’s head out. I think we can find a club that’s more up to our speed,” I said to Lani, raising one of my eyebrows.

The excitement on Lani’s face said it all. She knew what time it was.

When Lewis came back over, we took a picture with the owner. Lani and I were in front, stooping down like the Charlie’s Angel’s Charlie’s Angels wished they could be, while the two of them stood behind us. It was a dope picture.

In the car, I whispered to the driver where to take us while Lani distracted him so he wouldn’t suspect a thing. Thankfully the drive wasn’t too long since everything in Sin City was in short distance. When the car pulled up, and we piled out, I watched Lewis’s jaw drop when he saw the name of the establishment.

Treasures.

Lewis looked at both Lani and me as if we’d grown a pair of extra heads. Lani wrapped her arm around my waist and led me to the door.

“Enter if you dare,” I teased, walking inside with a giggling Lani.

Once inside, we waited for Lewis to catch up. It was only a few seconds before he was behind us, draping his arms over both our shoulders.

“Now, why would you ladies lure me here?”

“Lure? Did we lure, Nix?”

“Not at all. If we were to lure you, it would look like this.” I began turning around to face him while walking backward.

“Are you coming?”

Lani was the first to join my side, and then Lewis did the same with a wide smile. We walked to one of the empty lounges and sat with him in the middle.

“Hi there, welcome to Treasures. I’m Pinky,” began a beautiful woman with pink hair, cheek piercings, and deep brown eyes.

As I looked lower over her mahogany skin, my eyes couldn’t help but take in her incredible breasts that were barely concealed by her bedazzled bikini top. I didn’t know if they were implants of natural, but it didn’t matter. I bet they brought in plenty of horny men.

“Hello, Pinky,” Lewis replied, leaning back on the lounger with a smile.

“What can I get you three? Food, drinks, one of the girls?”

Lewis looked at Lani, then me licked his lips and smiled again. “Whatever you ladies want.”

Lani and I exchanged looks for a few moments communicating nonverbally.

“How about a bottle of dark rum to get us started and maybe a girl for a dance,” Lani requested.

“Sure thing? Any preference?”

Lani and I smiled and replied, “Black and beautiful.”

Lewis chuckled, “I third that.”

When Pinky left, Lani leaned to Lewis and took out something rolled from his sports jacket's inner pocket. Lewis offered her the light, and I watched as she took a few puffs then released the smoke. When she did, I could tell just what it was.

“Who knew weed was your cup of tea,” I said, leaning back and crossing my legs.

“Ha, there’s plenty you don’t know about me,” Lewis answered before he took a few puffs of his own. When he finished, he held it out to me.

“Let’s hope by the time the sun comes up; you know me a lot better.”

Those were more than empty words. I took the blunt and took several long drags from it, closing my eyes to allow the substance to work its way to my brain.

Who knows, the odds of that statement becoming true were getting more and more likely.

Fifteen or so minutes later, once the three of you had the bottle of rum open and taking turns gulping from the three hundred dollar bottle, a dancer named Lioness was doing her thing on the small table before us. Her outfit was perfect and showed off all her best assets—everything. When she approached Lani, she shook her ass in her face, to which Lani slapped one of her cheeks. Almost instantly, she gasped and held her hands back in an apologetic way. Lioness didn’t seem angry; instead, she sat in Lani’s lap and proceeded to give her a lapdance. Lani’s squeals said she was having a good time.

“Oh no,” I whined, holding up the blunt that was now too small to hold.

“Not to worry, sunshine, daddy’s got more,” Lewis said, showing the inside of his jacket.

I smiled and reached for one coming even closer to his face. Glancing up, our eyes met, and that’s where they stayed.

“You’re blazed,” Lewis said with a wide smile, one I returned.

“Don’t laugh at me.”

His smile softened, and his hand came to my cheek. “I’m not babygirl. I have better things I’d rather do than laugh at you.”

From the side, I saw Lani nod her head, and Lioness approaching like a predator coming for her prey.

“I hope this lapdance is one of them,” I said, nudging my head, making him look back to see Lioness approach to dance in front of him.

“Wow.”

Lewis leaned back and looked over her body, which gave me the time to light the new blunt. After taking a few puffs, Lani whined for her turn. We traded her for the blunt and me for the Rum. When Lioness sat in Lewis’s lap, he laughed. While he looked to be having a good time, he didn’t look to be on the brink of losing control. I got up and slinked around Lioness to Lani. As she took a puff, she held it out to me to take one. After I did, I gulped a mouthful of rum and moaned as it burned its path down my throat.

Lani stood and began swaying to the music in front of you. The instrumental version of Desperado was blaring in the club with a slowed-down dub. It sounded a lot more seductive than the original. Lani took the rum and handed me the blunt. As I took another drag, I leaned my head back and moaned. When I looked over to Lewis on the couch, his eyes weren’t on Lioness. They were on Lani and me. That was when the most devious idea popped into my head. Whispering to Lani to clue her in, she looked at me and gave me her sinister smile.

I dug into my clutch, took out a few bills, then walked over to Lioness, tucked it into her jeweled thong, and whispered a thank you. Her smile was soft. She got the hint. Lani and I walked toward Lewis, held out our hands, and waited for him to take the bait. It wasn’t long before he did. Pulling him to us, Lewis’s body collided with ours.

“Not interested in the dancer, baby?”

Lewis smiled, took the blunt from my lips, and took a long pull from it then smiled.

“How can I be when you two are right in front of me.”

“I think he wants a show of his own, Lani.”

Her smile widened before she bit her bottom lip. “Then follow us, daddy. We’ll give you a show you’ll never forget.”

Lewis’s smile slipped as he looked between the two of us. We’d sure gotten his undivided attention now. We turned then walked away to one of the rooms that were marked “private.”

Once inside, the mirrored walls threw our reflections back. I walked to the mirror and fluffed my hair, and rubbed my lips together. My body was tingling, which was normal for when I drank and smoked. It was a pleasant tingle, one that had me feeling loose.

“Oh Nixy,” Lani sing-songed making me turn to see her at the music player.

The song that she’d chosen was a personal favorite. She walked to me while circling her hips. Once to me, she walked around me once, then went around to my back and placed her hand on my hip. Following her rhythm, I circled my hips with her and handed her the rum bottle. As she drank, I bent forward just a little, poking my ass out and onto her. Lani quickly slapped my ass, making me laugh. Soon we were both giggle loudly until Lewis’s figure in the center of the room caught our eye.

“Forgot about me?”

“Never, daddy,” Lani said as she walked to him, making me follow.

Once in front of him, Lani rolled her hips, turning her back to him to bend forward. Lewis groaned then slapped her ass, making her moan. When he looked at me, I walked to his back then bent over his shoulder, making my breast press against him. Looking at him, I saw the desire in his eyes. I smiled and took the blunt from him, then went beside Lani. As I puffed, she went behind me to trail her hands down the center of my body until she turned me to her. The look on her face was easy to read.

We both looked at Lewis before our lips met in a slow and teasing kiss. This wasn’t the first time we’d kissed. It wasn’t a big deal for either of us. When we pulled apart, we both looked back to Lewis and blew out the smoke we’d transferred and split. He didn’t look like he was breathing, but the bulge in his pants said he was alive.

“Like what you see, daddy?”

“Come here, princess.”

Lani walked to Lewis. Once she was before him, he pulled her down by the back of her neck and kissed her intensely, making a slow heat roll through your belly and across your limbs. Before the kiss got too hot, he pulled away, looked at me, and smiled.

“You too, sunshine.”

I slowly walked toward him and stood beside Lani again. He didn’t touch me, though. His eyes slowly roamed my body, drinking in every curve. Lani sat on one of Lewis’s spread thighs.

“Dance for us, Nix.”

Not needing to be told twice, I turned my back to them and swayed to the music and slowly wined my hips, bringing myself to the floor to slowly stand up while bending, giving them a good view of my ass.

“Goddamn, girl,” Lewis groaned out before he moaned.

Looking back at them, I winked then faced them to continue my seductive dance. Lani stood and joined me, poking out her ass onto me. I brought my hand down to return the slap she’d given me earlier. The action had her moaning. Slowly I brought my hands up her body, all the while never taking my eyes off of Lewis. He smiled and blew out the smoke making the room even hazier. With every breath I took, my high was only increasing, and my inhibitions decreasing. Bringing my lips to Lani’s ears, I whispered.

“Let’s do it.”

By the time we made it back to the penthouse, we were all higher than before and laughing up a storm. Once inside, Lani was the one to shout for the pool before she took off. Lewis was right behind her, leaving me to walk behind them. When I got outside, they’d already gotten into the pool, and Lani was in Lewis’s arms. The two were heavily making out. Their moans echoed off the water, leaving me to stand and watch for a few moments.

When their eyes turned to me, Lani slipped from his arms to disappear under the water. His eyes drank you in, and the way he looked at me made boy heart race, my belly knot, and my sex quiver.

“The water’s great. Come in,” Lewis beckoned as he approached the edge of the pool.

I stood at the edge, watching him swim to me. Before he got there, he stopped, and I could see Lani under the water claiming his cock as her mouth’s possession. She sure wasted no time, I thought. Lewis moaned then rolled his neck. With his head dropped back, I was able to take in the way his shoulders stretched out and how his arms were the perfect combination of power and beauty. The glow of the blue light that was in and around the pool only accentuated his sexiness. When Lewis looked at me, I was about ready to see what the fuck Lani’s screams were all about and if he deserved such praise.

I unzipped the side of the dress and allowed it to fall from my body to reveal the neon green of my lacy thong.

“Jesus, you’re gonna kill me, sunshine.”

I sat at the edge and dangled my legs in the water, and watched the wavy image of Lani, giving him head.

“She sure can hold her breath long.”

Lewis smiled and bucked his hips forward. Lani came up a few seconds later.

“Lew, not fair. You could have killed me,” Lani whined to a smiling Lewis.

“Look.”

Lani looked back at me and smiled. Lewis leaned to her ear and spoke. “Told you, daddy would make you get what you wanted.”

Lani smiled wider and swam to me. When she got close, she flung water at me, leaving it to train down my body. Lani hopped up onto the stone beside me and sat down as well. She was completely naked.

“I remember these,” Lani began snapping the waistband of my thong.

“You should. It was barely two weeks ago we got them,” I replied.

“They still look cute on you, especially against your skin. Uugh, so fucking gorgeous, right daddy.”

Our eyes went back to Lewis, who still hadn’t moved. His eyes were looking between us as if he didn’t know what to say or do. He slowly approached us, then stopped. His eyes roamed my naked upper half until they dripped to the garment in question. When I saw him bite his bottom lip, he nodded.

“So fucking gorgeous.”

I couldn’t help but smile. He had a way with words.

“Can I?”

He looked as if he were holding his breath, waiting for my answer. When I nodded, he closed the gap between us. Trailing his finger from my shin up over my knee and along my thigh, they reached the waistband of my underwear, and he snapped them purposefully. Lewis kissed my knee then moved over to Lani. He hoisted her legs out of the water, pressed them back, and got up close and personally with her pussy.

His eyes locked with mine before he licked along her sex, making her moan. He did it again and again, then sucked Lani’s clit into his mouth. Her gasp was loud. He sucked her like there was no tomorrow, and with every move he made, Lani whimpered before her hand dropped to the top of his head.

“Right there, daddy.”

As he lapped at her core, he kept his eyes on me. The longer he gave her pleasure, the wetter I became, and the wetter I became, the more I wanted him to touch me. After several long minutes, he still hadn’t, and my frustration was beginning to show. Cupping my breast, I tweaked my nipple at the same time Lani’s whines increased.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me come, daddy. Right there!”

Lewis’s eyes were dark, and when he pulled back from Lani, his lips were wet. Lani whined.

“Lewwww!”

He dropped a slap to her clit, silencing her completely while having her drop her head back.

“Oh, fuck.”

Lewis smiled and came back over to me while cleaning his lips.

“Do you remember what I told you this afternoon?”

Thinking back, I remembered. When he saw that I had, he smiled again.

“All you have to do is say the words,” Lewis repeated.

The way he looked at me only solidified my decision and fueled my desire.

“I want you,” I said. His smile widened, but he didn’t move.

“While I love the way that sounds. Those aren’t the words.”

“Lew, you know she wants you just--.”

Again Lewis slapped Lani’s clit, and her body jerked, and a hand instinctively dropped between her legs. Lewis shot her a warning look, and in seconds she’s put her hands back on the stone surface. Lewis looked back at me and released a breath.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Lewis smiled, showing his perfect teeth. He approached, sliding his hands over my thighs to the waistband of the thong to pull it off of me. When he did, he tossed it behind him, not caring where it landed.

“Show me that pretty pussy, sunshine.”

You spread your legs but not entirely. Lewis tsked.

“I know you can do better than that.”

I fully spread them and watched him gawk at me like he hadn’t seen it before. When he brought his lips to my skin, he kissed my inner thighs, prolonging my desperate need for contact.

“You’re so wet, babygirl. Is this for me?”

I bit my bottom lip and nodded. “All for you,” I whispered.

“Mmm, I’ve been thinking about this pussy all day.”

Once the words were out, Lewis buried his face between my thighs. Once I felt his lips, I dropped my head back to the stone and allowed the pleasure he gave me without much effort to fill me. Moaning loudly, my body quivered. Cupping my breast, I tweaked my nipple again, edging my arousal higher.

“Fuck I was right. You do taste incredible.”

Lewis quickly flicked his tongue against my clit, making me whimper louder. It felt as if his tongue moved at lightning pace, and with every flick, he somehow made my body even hotter. I felt like I was on fire, but I didn’t hate it. I loved it. Dropping my hand to his head, I held on because I felt the stirs of an unexpected orgasm. Lewis moaned against my skin, making me tumble off the into ecstasy.

“Fuuuuck!”

My scream was not alone. Looking to my right, I saw Lewis plunging his fingers in and out of Lani’s core as his mouth still worked magic on you. Lani panted, writhed, and screeched.

“Yes, daddy. I’m gonna come. Yes!”

Lewis didn’t slow his fingers or his tongue. Instead, he continued and sucked the soul out of your body while having Lani cream all over his fingers.

When he pulled back, we laid there panting, trying to catch our breath. Once I did, I looked down, expecting to see Lewis, but only saw an empty pool. Looking to my right, I watched as he approached in all his glory, finally getting my answer I’d been wondering about. He was hunger better than Seabiscuit.

“Holy Fuck, Lani.”

“I’ve been trying to tell you.”

“No need to tell her anything. Seeing is believing. Your knees,” Lewis instructed.

Lani seemed to know the drill, but I did not. I watched Lani get on her knees then I looked back at Lewis. He just watched me and waited for me to obey. I mirrored Lani and feasted my eyes on his manhood. It looked heavy, long, and thick. Lord have mercy, I thought.

“I know you want this princess. Do you, babygirl?”

Deciding not to answer, I wrapped my hand around his shaft, drawing a strangled groan from Lewis. It was as heavy as it looked. I ran my hand up and down, familiarizing myself with him, then I tipped my tongue out to swirl around his swollen head.

“Aaah, yes, babygirl,” Lewis whispered before he whimpered.

I moaned on him then dipped my mouth down his length taking him as far as I dared. Lodging him in my throat, I tightened it and hummed. Lewis groaned deeply, then laced his hands behind my head, keeping him snugly where he wanted to be. When his groan turned to a whimper, he released me, making me pull back to catch my breath.

Lani rose onto her knees and took over, mirroring her same movements from the night I’d seen her. Instead of sitting there and letting her have all the fun, I dipped under her mouth to capture one of his balls in my mouth to suck on it gently. Lewis sighed out long and loud and placed a hand on the back of both Lani’s and my head.

“Mmm, that’s it. Suck this dick, Lani.”

She moaned her acceptance.

“Mmm, yes, Nix. Just like that.”

Lani pulled back, and we switched positions. For the next few minutes, Lani and I alternated between her at his balls and me on his dick and vise versa. When Lewis pulled away and stepped back, he helped us up and led us upstairs to the bedroom. Once inside, Lewis pulled me into his body to kiss my lips. His moved expertly over mine, sucking, nibbling, and teasing as he pleased. When he wrapped his tongue around mine, I moaned, clinging to him.

As I was getting used to kiss—our first, Lewis abruptly pushed me onto the bed. While he kissed Lani with the same fire he’d kissed me. When he came over to kneel on the bed, I watched him stroke himself. The way he did it had my mouth watering. I knew what was next, and I wanted it so badly my sex quivered.

“You ready for this dick, Nix?”

I nodded.

“I can’t hear you. Tell daddy how bad you want this dick.”

Nah!

I dropped my hands between my legs, bringing his attention to it, and circled my clit. That was when I spread my lips so he could see just what he was doing to me. Lewis groaned but didn’t tear his eyes away.

“Are you ready for this pussy, Lewis?”

Lani giggled behind me from her spot on the bed by my head. Her laughter only emboldened me.

“Hmm? I can’t hear you.” I dipped a finger inside my heat and raised it to my lips to suck it clean.

“Mmm, this pussy is so good. Do you want it?”

Lewis smiled then hovered over me to take one of my nipples into his mouth to swirl his tongue around the peak before nibbling down. I whimpered again then squirmed when I felt him swipe his cock across my slit.

“Lani was right about you,” Lewis whispered.

“I told you, daddy. I hope you can handle two of a kind,” Lani teased.

Lewis leaned over my head and kissed Lani fervently. The view from underneath was a sensual one, and as I was getting lost in it, Lewis thrust forward, connecting our bodies in one swift move.

“Fuck!”

Lewis and I shouted the same thing at the same time. With him buried to the hilt, he didn’t move. He waited, allowing me to adjust to the size and girth of him. The stretch was the most sinfully delicious thing I’d ever felt. Unable to take the maddening pressure, I began pushing Lewis back at his hips, but he didn’t budge.

“Oh no babygirl, don’t push me away. Take this dick. You wanted it, right?”

With that, he retreated only to thrust forward again, nudging that special spot within me.

“I can’t hear you? You gonna tap out?”

Another retreat and thrust forward sent my breasts swinging and my head angling back.

“We’ve just begun. You hadn’t even screamed my name yet.”

Another retreat and thrust forward had me clenching around him and panting to catch my breath.

“Fuck, Nix. You’re so fucking tight. It’s taking everything not to come.”

Three thrusts followed, and before Lewis slowly rolled his hips, making me moan deeply.

I could tell he wasn’t going to go slow anymore, and a few moments later, it was like a beast was released. His thrusts sped, his moans increased as did mine.

“Mmm, Sit that pussy on her face, princess. Give her a taste of what’s mine.”

Lani looked at me, seeking permission. Giving her a slight nod, she moved to angle herself over my mouth. This is a first, I thought to myself as I tipped my tongue out to lick across her flesh. Lani moaned softly, making me do the action again and again. After teasing her flesh, for a few moments, I sucked Lani’s clit into my mouth. It was an interesting experience, to say the least, but it wasn’t one I was against.

Lani jerked forward before she cursed.

“I got you, princess. Does it feel good?”

“Mmm, yes, daddy, it feels good.”

“Is she licking that pussy, right?”

Lani exclaimed again as I pulled her lower onto my mouth so I could have more access. Mimicking the same thing Lewis did to me, I flicked my tongue against her in a pattern of flicks and swirls, each pattern changing, never the same. Lani whimpered and hissed.

“Fuck, Nix. That feels so good.”

Lewis’s thrusts sped, and my whimpers picked up, breaking my concentration from what I was doing.

“Shit, you’re close huh, babygirl,” Lewis said through clenched teeth.

Before I knew it, a violent orgasm was ripping through me, making me see stars, rainbows, heaven, and hell. That was when Lani began bucking against my mouth, using my lips as her personal toys.

“Shit, I’m coming too,” Lani screeched out.

Lewis pulled from me, then rolled me to the side, pulling Lani to him to plunge into her depths.

“Fuck, Lew!”

He groaned loudly and set a fast pace. He had no intention of going slow.

“Your turn, babygirl.”

I knew what he was instructing. Crawling to Lani, she nodded at me, allowing me to swing my leg over her face while still kneeling with my ass facing Lewis.

“Clean her up for me, princess.”

Lani sucked my sex into her mouth and lapped at mine and Lewis’s combined juices, instantly making me moan and whimper. As Lani moaned her pleasure, I dropped my head to the bed and focused on the orgasm that was bubbling within me. Lewis’s hand dropped to my ass, making me whimper again.

“Goddamn, this ass is something else!”

He slapped it again, this time a lot harder than I felt his lips against the most taboo part of me, which made me fling my head back. Not only was Lani underneath me making it damn hard for me to go back to strictly dick, but Lewis was behind me, showing me the pleasure I’d been missing out on.

That was the last straw for me before I came undone. Dropping to the bed on my stomach, I tried to catch my breath from the sheer force of my orgasm. Lewis kissed my ass, then rolled to the side to lay on his back. The three of us panted in the elegance of the room. I don’t know how many minutes passed before any of us moved, but when I moved, I saw the sun rising through the window and groaned.

“Oh god, the sun, make it stop,” I whined.

“Two of a kind indeed, Lewis said on a scoff before he clapped his hands, bringing the blinds to a close, darkening the room.

We all slithered to the covers slipping underneath them. Lewis laid in the middle while Lani and I climbed on either side of him. When I rested my head on the pillow, I sighed, and Lewis kissed my cheek.

“Thank you for putting us out of our misery,” he whispered into my ear, making me smirk before I rolled my eyes to focus on sleep. I was exhausted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TagList:

@maxcullen @night-of-the-living-shred @chaneajoyyy @queenoftheworldisdead @shar74nett @raveviolet @dangerouslovefanfic @caramara3 @sonjashuterbugjohnson @emjayewrites @blumeesworld @tashawar @thevintagelover @nachtaiwrites @imanerdychubbyqueen @tinydramatist @aquarious-smr-writing @ellixthea @kaiya- ch4n @zeelmol @xsweetdellzx @labella420 @coldmuffinbanditshoe @areubeingserved @caplover22

Chapter Four, the final chapter will be on @munteanhorewrites page.

#sin in the city fic #sin in the city mini series #lewis tan #lewis tan fanfiction #lewis tan x reader #lewis tan x you #lewis tan x black reader #black fanfiction #lewis tan x black reader x black reader #lewis tan smut

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