#If anything I still struggle with her hair so the upper half of her is probably easier to cut off generally lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bwabys-scenarios · 1 year ago

Note

Vampire kurapika being addicted to the warmth that human reader has. He cant help but think of how warm and happy their children will be growing in her tummy. I would like to see this pls!

Warmth

Vampire!Kurapika x Fem!Reader

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

warnings: creampie, Kurapika takes your virginity

(vampire and werewolf!Kurapika requests are open 👁️👁️)

If there’s one thing vampires lack, it’s warmth. They are no longer living, undead creatures that hearts beat no more.

Usually, they seek out the warmth they lack by killing humans and devouring their blood. For a moment, it makes them feel whole again. Human.

But Kurapika isn’t your usual vampire.

Sure, he drinks blood, lives in a dark mansion in a deep forest, but he’s no murderer. He only drinks enough blood to keep him sustained, and never takes more than he needs.

Unfortunately, a side affect to this is that he is always cold. Even when sitting by the large fireplace in his home, he feels nothing but the chill in his skin.

It can almost drive a man to insanity, that awful lack of warmth. Imagine living for centuries, never able to feel warm again.

Well, that all changed when he met you.

You’d gotten yourself lost in the expansive forest surrounding his mansion. He spotted you sitting all alone, sniffling as you tried to call someone with no luck.

Usually when someone got lost in his forest, he’d gently lead them back to the forests edge before wiping their memory of him, but for some reason he didn’t want to do that.

You were wearing a hoodie and skirt, something not fit for the winter weather. A breeze passed by, causing you to shiver and your sniffles to turn into cries.

Kurapika did not like seeing girls cry, he was a gentleman. He leaped down from his place on a hill, appearing behind you without a sound.

“Are you lost?”

You jump at the sound, quickly turning to see a blonde haired man standing behind you. He was incredibly handsome, giving you a patient smile when you struggled to respond. “It’s alright, take your time.”

You wiped your face, the blonde finding the way the warm salty tears rolled down your cheeks quite… cute.

“Y-yes…”

He offered his hand. “Come, my home is nearby. A blizzard will be here soon.”

Your lip quivered, and instead of taking his hand you jumped into his arms, hugging him tightly.

He was barely able to make out your blubbering, his head going fuzzy from the warmth sinking into his skin. Even though your body was also cold from the winter weather, you were still much warmer than he was.

“W-was so scared!” you say, crying into his chest. “C-couldn’t find my way home!”

Kurapika was not used to comforting people, but wanted you to continue holding him, so he gently ran his hand over your hair, cooing. “Shh, it’s alright. You’re safe now.”

He felt your legs tremble then buckle. “Oh dear…”

Kurapika was quick to pull you into his arms. “It seems I’ll need to carry you.”

You snuggled your head into his chest, your warmth slowly spreading across his upper half.

He could get used to this.

—————

It’s been around three days since Kurapika invited you into his home, and you’ve noticed he’s a bit… strange.

As the blizzard raged outside, Kurapika seemed to follow you around everywhere. He never did anything to make you think he had ulterior motives, just brushed against you occasionally, his touch lingering.

You knew that he wasn’t… normal. He had red eyes for Christ’s sake, but you didn’t want to assume the worst. After all, he’d taken you in and had been nothing but kind.

He didn’t have any food, but did have working appliances. When he set you by the fire to warm yourself the first night, he apologized.

“Sorry my dear, I have nothing to offer you besides this fire, but that will change. For now, rest.”

He pulled a blanket over your form before he left, leaving you to doze by the fire.

When you woke up, it was to the smell of something soft and sweet. There was a cup of warm tea waiting on the table near you.

It helped warm your tummy, and once you finished it, you wandered around the house. Kurapika was waiting in the kitchen, putting away groceries. “Ah, you’re awake. I apologize for not knowing your preferences, but I gathered enough good to last you until the blizzard has ceased.”

He watched you, red eyes following your form as you peeked into the refrigerator.

“Oh wow, thank you… um…”

He smiled, leaning against the counter. “It’s Kurapika. And you?”

“(Name)!”

Since that day, your savior had kept quiet, lingering near you. At one point, he sat right next to you as you basked in the warm light of the fire. “Are you cold, (Name)?”

You shook your head. “No, I’m actually pretty warm!”

His red eyes seemed yo bore into yours, his hand reaching out to gently brush against your cheek. “Indeed you are.”

His touch lingered, seemingly soaking up your warmth before he pulled away.

“Kurapika?”

He hummed, glancing at you. “Why are you so cold? You’re freezing.”

He doesn’t answer, watching as you hesitantly react towards him. “May I..?”

You gesture to him, and he nods. “Please.”

You grab his hands, blowing on them to try and warm them up. “Come closer, I don’t want you to get sick…”

He does so, eyes closing in contentment as you pull the blanket you’d been cuddled under over the two of you, nuzzling into his cold chest in an attempt to keep him warm. He can’t help but wrap his arms around you, fangs brushing against your neck before he stops himself.

Kurapika pulls away, placing a hand on your cheek. He enjoys how soft you are, how kind. You, a stranger, offering your body heat to a strange man after you noticed you he was cold. He didn’t often receive such kindness from humans.

“Kurapika… are you… human?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, continuing to stare longingly into your eyes. “That… is of no concern to you. After the blizzard has passed, you will leave and forget about me.”

He stands up, shivering as the warmth begins to leave his body. You look up at him, all cozy in your soft blanket, and he can’t help but find you… cute.

You huff, but are too sleepy to argue with him. The fire is too warm, to inviting, so you curl up on the couch and fall asleep as the blonde watches over you.

———————

The blizzard ends, and as Kurapika wraps you in a coat he’d brought home for you, you can’t help but hold onto his hands.

Through your stay, Kurapika had been nothing but kind to you. Besides being a little strange, and awful at hiding the fact he wasn’t human, he had done nothing to make you cautious of him.

“Kurapika…”

He glances down at you. “Yes, (Name)?”

You puff out your cheeks a little, which has the vampire in front of you melting a bit. “I don’t wanna forget you.”

He pauses, pushing a piece of your hair out of your face. “It’s for both of our benefit, little one. You won’t care once you’ve forgotten.”

“But I don’t want to!”

You grab his hand, the beginning of tears starting to bead at your eyes. He doesn’t seem to like the sight of your tears, his eyes softening.

“I know it has to be lonely up here, all by yourself. You’re so nice, and I want to get to know you better! I don’t want you to be alone anymore, Kurapika, so please…”

Your lip quivers, and he comes undone. “Don’t cry, dear. Shh, shh, I…”

He swipes at your eyes, sighing. If his heart could beat, it would be thumping wildly against his chest at your kind words.

“If… you can promise not to tell anyone, I can allow you to keep your memory.”

You perk up, scrunching your nose a little when he cups your chubby cheeks. “You may see me again, but… wait until the winter weather has subsided. I don’t want you… getting hurt.”

You nod, giving him that pretty smile. “Haha, okay. I’ll give you my address and number, so you can come see me if you want to!”

He blinks. “You… you would give me such things? You… I am not human, correct?”

“Yeah, but I trust you. If you were going to hurt me, you would have done it already.”

He sighs, letting you go. “You shouldn’t trust others so easily, (Name). What if I was just waiting for you to drop your guard?”

You roll your eyes, putting your hand on your hips. “I was asleep here several times!”

Kurapika huffed at that, walking off then returning with a piece of paper and a pen. “Write down your information here.”

You do so, and once you give him a hug, Kurapika leads you to the edge of the forest. The sun would be coming up soon, so he leaves.

‘I guess I’ll need to buy a phone…’

——————

“Kurapika!”

The man gasps when you jump into his arms, laughing. “(N-Name)!”

It had been nearly two months since he’d said goodbye to you, and it was finally spring. After getting a phone number, he called you for the first time. His days, which were usually spent reading and sleeping, were now lit up with your presence.

You had asked him several times if you could come visit him, the Kurapika being incredibly strict when saying no. He didn’t want you getting caught up in another blizzard!

But as the snow melted and the flowers began to bloom, not only did he not have an excuse to not see you anymore, he couldn’t bare it any longer.

“I missed you…” you say, head resting against his shoulder. He’s soft, smelling like vanilla, cinnamon, and dust.

“…”

He hugs you back, breathing in your scent, letting your warmth settle into his skin. “I missed you too, little one.”

You pull away, pushing a basket into his chest. “Oh, what is this?”

“A gift! I know you don’t eat judging by the fact you had no food when I first showed up, so I got you some cool stuff!”

As he gestured for her to come inside, he looked over the basket, tilting his head.

Inside were books, hand warmers, fuzzy socks, a few candles, and some self care items. “…”

His eyes softened. ‘She’s worried that I’m too cold…’

Unfortunately, the only way he could feel warmth was through contact with her, or drinking blood, but the gesture in and of itself was sweet enough to have him swooning.

You made yourself busy putting up the bag of groceries you brought over. “Kurapika, I brought my tablet, so we can watch some movies together!”

He poked his head into his kitchen, watching you with curious eyes. ‘She’s acting like it’s her kitchen.’ He thought, amused.

After you finished, you turned to him, giving him that pretty smile that gave him butterflies. “Let’s cuddle!”

Kurapika couldn’t argue, he didn’t even want to. As you dragged him to the couch and pulled out your tablet to watch a movie with him, he couldn’t help but pull you closer, sighing into your shoulder.

“Warm…” he muttered against your neck, nuzzling you softly.

“Hehe, I’ll keep you warm, Kurapika. Don’t worry.”

You looked at him for a second before leaning forward and placing a kiss on his cheek. This caused the blonde to blush, his eyes going wide as he stared at you. “(Name)…”

You were quick to blush as well. “Did you not like it?”

“No! No I… I liked it. Very much. Could you…”

He leaned closer, nuzzling his cheek against yours. “Could you do it again?”

You giggled at that, cupping his cheeks and placing kisses all over his face until your lips hovered over his.

Kurapika couldn’t take it anymore, he leaned forward, closing the distance between the two. He pulled you into his lap, hands gripping at your plush thighs.

“(Name)…”

You could feel something poking into your crotch, yelping slightly when his cold hand traveled up your shirt. “I’ve… I’ve never felt this way before, (Name). I want you, so badly. My body craves you.”

“Kurapika…”

You kiss him, so sweet and tender, and he just can’t take it. He picks you up, carrying you to his bedroom as you squeak. “K-Kurapika, what are you-“

He pins you to the bed, those piercing red eyes staring into yours as he hovers above you. “May I have you, (Name)? Would you be okay with being mine?”

You nod, lip quivering slightly. “Please. Please Kurapika, I need you!”

He shivers at your words, making quick work of undressing you. The puff that emits from his throat sends shivers down your spine. “Mmm… so pretty. My darling, I’ll need to explore you thoroughly later, but now…”

His eyes were hazy with lust as he pulled down your panties, nipping at your thigh. “I need to be inside you, little one. Shhh…”

He pecks your cheek as you whine, rubbing circles into your clit. “I know, I know. You’ll get what you want soon enough, angel.”

“Pika, please…”

He perks up at the nickname. “Well, can’t leave a lady waiting, can I?”

He positions himself at your entrance, suddenly a bit hesitant. “Are you sure this is what you want, little one? Sleeping with a creature such as myself… you may be shunned for it.”

“Pika…”

You cup his cheek, and he leans into your touch without thinking. “I want you, Pika. Please, please give yourself to me. I love you.”

With that, you could only gasp when he sank into your cunt, his lips kissing up your neck. “God, (Name)… I… I love you too.”

He coos, nuzzling his cheek against yours as you whine. “Shh, shh, I know, I know it hurts little one. I’ll be gentle, okay?”

And he was, chest pressed against yours as he pushed in and out slowly, cooing into your ear. “Doing so good, angel. Taking me so well.”

“Hnn, Pika… please…”

“Please what, little one? What is it your heart desires?”

He tenderly kisses your thigh as he pushes it into your chest, beginning to pound into you. “P-please… please fill me up, Pika!”

Something flipped in his mind, the thought of cumming inside of you, the thought of how warm you would keep his children made him go feral.

“Fuck, angel, anything for you. Anything…”

You mewled when he hit that special spot, the man purring at the pretty sound you made. “Keep making those sounds, little one. So… so close!”

He kept hitting that spot, making you cry out. “G-gonna-!”

You both came at the same time, the man above you panting. He stayed inside you for a good bit, kissing your neck and leaving little love bites. He restrained himself from sinking his fangs in too deep, but only barely.

“Sleepy…”

You had planned on watching a movie with him and confessing your feelings, but you were okay with how things went, ecstatic even. He felt the same, and had taken your virginity!

“Oh, little one…”

Kurapika swiped his finger at your folds, revealing a few droplets of blood. He lapped it up, humming in satisfaction. “You taste lovely.”

Kurapika pulled out before lying down next to you, cuddling into your tummy. “You’ll be a lovely mother, darling.”

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authorhjk1 · 1 year ago

Text

A tie, handcuffs, and another hotel

Kim Chaewon X Joy X Male Reader

The woman in front of you gives you a devilish glare. It's an evil one. And you are sure that you would have run away by now, if it wasn't for the handcuffs. The handcuffs that are tying her to the chair she is sitting on.

"Trust me."

The woman dressed in pink standing next to you starts talking again.

"She is such a kinky slut. We could do anything to her right now."

You don't disagree, but you are still wondering how you got here. Six hours ago, your plane landed in Frankfurt, Germany. Within those six hours you met these two women. One four years older than the other. One all dressed up in a slutty pink outfit. One wearing a police uniform.

After your unbelievable morning (more about that in the future), you got an invitation for a business offer. And here you are. But you didn't expect the meeting to go so fast. And you definitely didn't expect to meet two Korean singers right here.

But this isn't were the chapter is supposed to start. No. It's supposed to start fourteen hours earlier. And in London. In your hotel room. Inside of Soyeon. Because that's where we left of. Or at least almost.

"Fuck!"

Soyeon's moan echoes through the room as she arches her back off the wooden table. You keep up your pace, making her slide a little over the smooth surface. With your hands on her waist, you lift her up a little, giving you a better angle to drive yourself into her pussy.

"Yes, Daddy. Make her cum."

Miyeon is kneeling on the table. Her hands still tied behind her back. She watches you fuck the live out of Soyeon.

For a moment you don't remember how she got on the table. Certainly not alone without hands. Did you carry her?

You are distracted by Soyeon's whining as you feel her walls tightening around you. Her nails scratch on the wood, she closes her eyes and her pussy becomes wetter.

Ant then, she cums on your cock. She shakes atop the table, moaning tiredly. Her juices start to leak out of her, slowly dripping down your cock, onto the carpet.

"This is so hot, daddy."

Miyeon looks at you. Her cheeks flushed with arousal. Her eyes desperate to be treated like she was treated before.

"Don't get too excited. You are still getting punished."

Her smile drops. Replaced by a sulky pout.

"I want your cock, though. Please, daddy."

"I'm not sure you deserve it yet."

Slowly leaving Soyeon's pussy, you keep your focus on Miyeon.

"I do. Princess has been a good girl."

Miyeon tries to move closer to you. But only on her knees and with Soyeon in the way, it's not as easy as it sounds.

"Please, daddy. If you really want to keep punishing me, then do it differently. I can't wait any longer."

She is finally close enough for you to reach out your hand. You feel the smoothness of her skin as your fingers close around her throat.

"Please, daddy-"

Miyeon's words are cut off.

"You want me to punish you differently?"

She nods slightly. The brunette is not gasping for air, but she struggles to speak.

"How?"

You finally hear her voice. It's at odds with her personality. Now it sounds raspy and hoarse. You know it's not just the choking. It seems like Miyeon didn't handle the throat fucking earlier as well as she pretended.

"Spank me."

Two simple words. Words that you like to hear from such a gorgeous woman like Miyeon.

Letting go off her throat, you hear her taking a deep breath. You lean forward, whispering into her ear.

"Here we go."

You pull on her shoulders, making Miyeon fall forward. The upper half of her body is now resting on top of Soyeon's midriff, while the rest is lying on the table. Her head is hanging off her friends body.

You grab some of her messed up hair, forcing her to look up at you.

"Don't forget you asked for this."

"Yes, daddy. Thank you, daddy."

Her smile is genuine as you let go off her hair and walk around the table, out of her sight. Soyeon is not moving. You don't know why. Maybe she is enjoying this. Or she is too tired to move.

You start at her ankles. Your fingers dancing over her smooth skin.

"It tickles, daddy."

Miyeon squirms at your touch, but you don't stop. Slowly you make your way up her creamy legs. You admire her body from behind. Her bare shoulders. Her back. Her ass. All of it. Once you reach the hem of her silk dress, you place your hand fully on her skin. You sneak it underneath Miyeon's clothing, feeling the shape of her butt cheeks.

Her head is placed on the table and you hear her letting out a soft moan, everytime you squeeze her flesh.

"Please spank me, daddy."

You lift her dress off her skin, pushing it towards her waist.

"I have been such a bad princess. And princesses need to be spanked."

It's interesting that she keeps switching between a good princess and a bad one. As if she is deliberately calling herself that to get what she wants. And it seems to be working.

When your hand leaves her skin for the first time after a couple of minutes, you see her close her eyes in anticipation. You make her wait a couple of seconds.

And then you let your hand fall.

"Oh!"

Miyeon's surprised yelp is what you were hoping for. Before she can speak, you spank her one more time.

"Yes!"

Again.

"Oh gosh!"

And again.

Miyeon has started to breath faster, trying to brace herself for every painful impact. You see the shape of your hand slowly appearing on Miyeon's right cheek. The bright red is the que for you to switch to the left one.

The brunette is surprised by the sudden change. Making her moan a little louder.

"Have I spanked you enough now?"

You hand hovers over her left cheek, ready to spank her again, if you hear the wrong answer.

"Yes."

Another hit.

"Daddy, please. I know I was naughty. Please keep pushing me."

You spank her again. Once. Twice. But now Miyeon interrupts you.

"Please punish me so much. So much that I will never be naughty again. So that I will be a good little princess for daddy."

You spank her one last time for good measure, making her moan.

"Does that mean you finally learned your lesson?"

"Yes, daddy."

You reach forward to loosen the tie. When you take it into your hand, you see small red marks around Miyeon's wrists.

"Thank you, daddy."

Miyeon tries to get up slowly. The spanking certainly left it's mark.

"I will be a good girl from now on."

To her surprise, you shake your head.

"We aren't done yet."

"But, daddy."

You shut her up by crashing your lips into hers. On instinct, the brunette kisses you back. As she deepens the kiss, you wrap your hands around her waist, before pulling her up. Getting her off the table, you make her stand in front of you.

Continuing to kiss Miyeon, you push her towards the glass door, which leads to the balcony. She doesn't seem to notice, too busy with her tongue in your mouth.

When you push her into the cold surface, you feel her shudder at the sensation. Not letting her settle in, you slide the door open, making her stumble backwards, before you catch her.

Now standing in the night air, you feel the cool breeze on your skin, while it makes Miyeon's hair move.

"Turn around."

She does so, but can't help but complain.

"It's cold, daddy."

"Don't worry, princess."

You are standing behind her, making her place her hands on the railing.

"I will make you feel warm."

Kissing her bare shoulders, makes Miyeon feel new heat already. She remembers that you are completely naked behind her. And that you wanted to teach her another lesson. She realizes too late what it is, as she is enjoying your warm lips on her skin too much.

Her wrists are tied together once more. But now she is locked in place. The tie bound around the railing.

"Let's see how loud my princess can scream."

"Daddy. Please no. Not out here."

She told you are her safety word when you went up to your room. "No" is definitely not a safety word.

"I think you are enjoying this."

"No, daddy. I'm not. I have been punished enough."

"That's not for you to decide."

And with that, you can't hold yourself back any longer. Miyeon's tight pussy is addictive. You need to be inside of her. As long as you can. Whenever you can.

Her whimpering shows that she is trying to keep it down. But it doesn't help. A lewd moan escapes her lips, once you are fully buried inside of her tight snatch.

"Are you warmer now?"

You can't help but chuckle at her desperate attempts to keep quiet.

"A little."

She whispers and you promise yourself that she will scream, once you are done with her.

"Daddy, please."

You slowly retreat out of her, before pushing inside again. The motion all too familiar already.

"Faster."

Miyeon can't help herself. As much as you are addicted to her pussy, Miyeon has become addicted to your cock. Maybe it's because she had to watch you fuck Soyeon. Or maybe it's because you fill her so good. Either way, she can't keep as quiet as she would like.

"Oh my god."

The brunette slowly forgets the icy cold metal touching her hands, as she holds onto it. You increase your force, starting to pound into her.

"Holy-!"

She was about to let out a yelp. She tries to quiet herself by letting her head fall into her hands.

"Come on princess."

You grab her hair, like you did several times tonight already, and pull her head up.

"You have such a beautiful voice. Why don't you want to share it with London?"

"Please."

Her begging only makes you want to tease her more.

"Maybe a little more of this."

Your right hand meets her butt cheek.

"Oh my god."

Miyeon hisses at the pain and the pleasure.

Not loud enough.

You spank her harder. The sound echoes through the night air, louder than you thought. But Miyeon manages to keep her voice down.

You realize that there is only one way to make her scream. And so you start. Letting go off her hair, you watch her head fall down into her hands again. Grabbing her waist, you fuck her harder from behind.

"Yes, daddy."

Her moans become needier. You keep pushing her forward, her upper body leaning further over the railing. Her legs are now pressed against it, making it now completely impossible for her to escape.

"Pound me, daddy."

You do as she says. Not caring how loud the two of you are. Not caring that it is freezing cold. Not caring that Soyeon is watching from inside. And maybe even other people too.

Either way, you fuck Miyeon through the night. Hard and fast. Like she wants it. Like she needs it.

Her hair is hanging off the balcony. You can't help but think about a certain tale. That Miyeon calls herself princess makes her even more loveable.

All of her appearance is at odds with what she looks like in this moment.

Her hair hanging loosely. Her upper body bend over the railing as far as possible. If you wouldn't be holding her, she might fall down. Her bare back, glistening from sweat and the lights of your room.

Moving your hand, you reach around Miyeon's waist.

"Please, daddy. No."

She knows what is going to come next. Or rather who.

You start rub her clit with you fingers, making her moan into her hands.

"I know you want to scream."

Leaning forward, you kiss her behind her ear.

"Just let it go."

Your whispers make Miyeon slowly lose control over her body. She has never been turned on like this. Bound to the balcony. Being forced to get fucked outside. Where everyone could see her. Where everyone could hear her.

You see her biting her lip as your circles on her clit become faster and faster. Your deep thrusts rock Miyeon's small body against the railing. Her dress flutters loosely in the wind.

Slowly you feel her trembling. Her moans start to become louder with every thrust. You can see how bad she is trying to hold it in. But you know, and maybe even she knows, that it's in vein. She will cum. And she will scream. Like she did earlier this night.

And like she does now.

"Daddy! Fuck!"

Her voice echoes through the night as you push her towards the edge. Miyeon isn't there just yet, but it can only be a matter of seconds.

"Gonna cum!"

And yet, she is already screaming. Her pussy pulsating around you. And with one final thrust, you make her climax.

"Daddy! Cumming!"

"Do you want to make her watch? Or do you want to fuck her face?"

The woman next to you side eyes you.

"What would you prefer?"

Your question is directed at the older woman.

"The two of you are behaving like kids. Untie me and I show you how to fuck."

The woman in pink steps forward. Leaning towards her unnie, her hand traces along her right cheekbone.

"We can't untie you. You love to be dominated. And you know it."

"No I don't! Kim Chaewon! Untie me!"

Chaewon steps backwards, standing next to you again.

"Seems like she is in denial. We should fuck alone, before we let her join."

The offer is more than just tempting. But you still aren't sure about the woman on the chair. She looks genuinely pissed off. Does she really hate being dominated? Or is she just acting? Does she like being tied up?

You were really surprised when she showed up at your hotel room door with a police uniform on. She said she is an actress and kept it for "personal character development". You didn't get what she meant. And you still don't.

The two of them seem to know each other though, so you believe Chaewon. At least for now.

"Come on, honey."

Chaewon takes your hand, guiding it towards her chest.

"Let's enJoy ourselves."

She put special emphasis on the last syllable of "enjoy".

" Very funny."

Joy's angry tone still lingers in your ear as you touch Chaewon's chest underneath her top.

"If you don't keep quiet, we have something to shut you up with."

The younger woman reaches towards your crotch, lazy letting a finger move along the length of your clothed cock.

Joy looks like she has another heated reply in store, but she keeps quiet.

"There we go."

Chaewon steps in front of you.

"Now fuck me."

You have to say that there is little hesitation in your movements. The situation still seems odd, but Chaewon's outfit is just begging you to undress her.

Taking the heart shaped zipper into your hand, you slowly open it. As if you are opening a present. It reveals a skimpy white top underneath it. It's says "daddy" in large black letters.

"Do you like it? Daddy?"

Chaewon lets the pink jacket (you are not even sure if you can call it a jacket) fall on the ground. She twirls around slowly, showing off her tight body.

She had been teasing you, since the two of you met. And she still doesn't stop. When she stands in front of you again, she bites her finger seductively, while she scans you up and down.

"You are so hot, daddy."

Your eyes fall onto her pink shorts. Which is a mistake. It finally breaks your self-control. The constant teasing, the "accidental" touching in the elevator, her figure, everything. You can't hold yourself back. Taking a step forward, you spin Chaewon around before bending her over the table on your left.

"Yes, daddy. Give me your tongue."

You kneel on the floor, pealing off her pink shorts. Her round butt makes you message her cheeks, before you signal her to widen her legs a little.

Her panties are matching her top. You pull them off her as well, before you give both of her cheeks a kiss.

"Fuck me with your tongue, daddy."

You swipe over her snatch, making Chaewon hiss through her teeth.

"Oh, yes."

Taking her ass into your hand, you spread her cheeks and get to work. You begin to eat her out. First slow and sensual. You enjoy the new taste on your taste buds. Chaewon tastes sweet. Her folds begin to get wetter due to your saliva and her juices. The sounds of you, eating her out are the only ones filling the room. Except for the occasional moan from Chaewon. You almost completely forgot that Joy is still there. Still handcuffed to the chair.

"Just fuck her already. What are you waiting for?"

You stop to look at her for a moment.

"Just ignore her."

Chaewon sounds way more relaxed than before.

"She is such an impatient slut. Why do you think she is here, if she has a boyfriend?"

Your eyes widen in surprise, but you don't stop licking Chaewon's folds. You haven't touched Joy yet, so you are glad that you got this information beforehand.

"So what? I still love him. I just want to have good sex once in a while."

You listen to the two of them bicker for a couple of moments. Chaewon's replies become shorter and shorter though. Her breath heavier. Her moans a little louder.

"Yes, daddy. Right there."

"Hurry up. I don't have all day."

"Shut up, unnie. Fuck!"

Chaewon becomes wetter. Her slick starting to drip down your chin.

"She can't even fuck as good as me. So why even bother?"

"I can prove that I'm a better fuck than unnie."

You feel the young girl's legs starting to shake a little.

"Don't even try. I'm the definition of sex."

You enjoy listening to the two of them arguing about who is better in bed. But Chaewon is slowly reaching her limit.

"No, unnie. I-I-I wi-will show-"

A loud gasp interrupts her sentence.

"I will show how-how good-"

Another moan. Making Chaewon hold onto the edge of the table.

"How good my pussy fee-feel-feeeeeels!"

And with that last word, you make her fall. Chaewon cums hard on your face as hers is rested on the table. You still hold her ass, making sure that she keeps standing. Her cum leaks out of her, staining your face with her sweetness. You glance at Joy to your right, who is desperately trying not to show any arousal. But you can see a couple of hints. She has stopped resisting the handcuffs. Her cheeks are a little red. She bites her lower lip slightly and her eyes seem darker than before.

You can't take in more of Joy in a police uniform, because Chaewon has recovered enough to turn around and take your face into her hands.

Bending down, she starts to kiss you sloppily and before you know it, she starts to lick your face. She tastes herself on you as she cleans your face from her juices.

"I taste so sweet."

She murmurs into the kiss the two of you share, before she finally breaks away.

"You wanna taste me too, unnie?"

She turns towards Joy, who makes a disgusted face.

"No thank you."

Chaewon walks over anyways. Sitting on Joy's lap, she takes her face into her hands. The older one tries to move her head, but she can't escape her grip. Chaewon starts to make out with Joy, who slowly seems to warm up to the kiss.

The scene in front of you must be a dream. It is too beautiful to be true. Joy handcuffed to the chair she is sitting on. Still wearing her uniform and the police vest. Chaewon in her lap, only wearing the skimpy white top and the matching thigh high socks. She keeps grinding herself on Joy's right leg, while she practically eats her face.

You only hold out for a couple of moments. Before you know it, you are already standing behind Chaewon. Because she is a little too low for you, you push her further into Joy. She hugs the older woman tight, resting her chin on her shoulder.

"Yes, daddy. Show her how good my pussy feels."

You lock eyes with Joy as you slowly push yourself into Chaewon. Luckily she already came, so she is wet enough. You hear her moan, while Joy bites her lips slightly.

You slowly withdraw out of Chaewon. Taking her hips into your hands, you prepare yourself to fuck her hard.

"Oh fuck!"

A deep thrust makes her groan in pleasure as her body is rocked against Joy's.

"You are so big."

Chaewon sighs as you slowly retreat, before pushing inside of her once more.

Joy is starting to get really turned on by the two of you. The way you push Chaewon's body into her with every thrust. The way the younger girl moans into her ear. The way she is holding her vest from behind. Her pussy staining Joy's uniform pants with her juices.

All of it makes Joy's face turn from pretending to be annoyed to giving you her best fuck me eyes.

Of course you knew Joy before today. She is a member of Red Velvet. Since you own a fashion company in Asia now, there were suggestions for Joy to model for you. But schedules were difficult.

Now she watches you fuck Chaewon on her lap. The younger one moans loudly into her ear, voicing her pleasure.

"Yes, daddy! Fuck me hard!"

You do just that. Her body is being thrown back and forth by your grip on her waist and your thrusts.

It takes you a moment to notice that Joy starts to fight against the handcuffs again.

"Are you finally admitting-oh god!"

Chaewon keeps trying to tease her unnie.

"Admitting that my cunt is better than yours?"

Joy doesn't even listen. The visual stimulation is too much for her.

"Please get these off."

She rattles with her own handcuffs.

"I need to touch myself."

"You are just- oh fuck!"

Chaewon bites into Joy's vest for a moment to stop herself from screaming.

"You are just jealous. Jealous that I get fucked."

"That's not true."

Joy looks at you. Desperation in her eyes.

"Please let me touch myself. I need it."

You are surprised how needy she suddenly is. Seems like Chaewon was right earlier. Joy is submissive.

"Not now."

Two simple words, which make Joy pout angrily. She looks adorable, hot and sexy at the same time. How does she do that?

"Harder, daddy! Make me cum in her lap!"

Chaewon does seem to get closer. She holds onto Joy's vest tighter. Her face buried in the crook of Joy's neck.

Moving your hands away from her waist, you hold her shoulders, pushing her even further into Joy. Chaewon is now almost lying on her. You see two wet spots on the older ones pants. One on her leg, that one is definitely Chaewon, and one at her crotch. Your left hand reaches for Joy's lap, while the other grabs Chaewon by her neck. You are careful not to hurt her, at least not too much.

"Yes, daddy! Give it to me!"

She becomes louder as you start to press against Joy's wet spot. A long drawn out moan escapes her lips. It sounds like she hasn't been touched by someone else in ages.

"I'm gonna cum!"

You feel Chaewon's pussy clench onto your cock. Her tight body twists in pleasure as she starts to tremble on top of Joy. You keep holding her by her neck, preventing Chaewon from falling off the older woman. You don't move inside of her, until she has ridden out her high.

Slowly retreating, you watch your cock leave her freshly fucked pussy. It's drenched and glistening with her juices.

Glancing at Joy, you see her staring at your cock. As if in a trance, she licks her lips.

"Chaewon. Chae."

You have to call her twice before she answers. Slowly lifting her head, she looks back at you over her shoulder.

"Eat her out."

You see Joy's eyes light up. But Chaewon looks disappointed.

"But daddy. I want to be fucked more."

"Only when you make her cum."

Chaewon gives you an angry glare, showing her disapproval, before she slowly climbs off Joy.

With shaky legs, she gets on her knees, slowly unzipping Joy's pants. The older woman watches with no patience left. You watch as Chaewon pushes her pants a little to the side, revealing Joy's lack of underwear.

"Oh god."

Joy sighs as Chaewon places her tongue on her clit.

You move to stand above Chaewon, taking the back of Joy's head into your hand. She looks up at you through her bangs as you grab her hair.

Pulling her towards you, Joy opens her mouth, when she finally meets your cock. Chaewon's glistening juices are replaced with Joy's saliva and mouth as she takes you inside of her.

You feel her moaning around your dick as Chaewon puts her tongue into her snatch. Using your hand on the back of her head, you make her bob up and down slowly. You don't give her time to adjust to your size in her mouth. Joy closes her eyes as you start to move her a little faster. Making her take more and more of your cock, until she reaches her limit. There are still two inches to go, but Joy's gag reflex acts up, as you force her further.

She coughs and you loosen your grip. Joy lets your cock fall out of her mouth. She breaths heavily as strings of her saliva connect your cock with her red lips.

You feel Chaewon move underneath you, so you look down. She has gotten in a more comfortable position, now able to eat out Joy and finger herself at the same time.

Pulling the older one's head towards you again, you smear her own saliva all over her lips and chinn with your cock. Joy's face slowly starts to become a mess, once you force her onto your cock once more. Everytime Chaewon moans due to her fingers in her snatch, she makes Joy moan in return. This makes her humm around your shaft, sending vibrations through your whole body.

You start to make Joy gag on your cock over and over again as you get rougher with her. She barely has any make up on, which you could ruin. But it doesn't prevent her from letting tears fall down her cheeks. The glistening drops mix together with her saliva as they reach her mouth and chin. Her disheveled hair is now only held up my the loose bun in your hand. She keeps trying to escape from her handcuffs. Although you don't know if she wants you to stop, or wants to pull you further towards her. She isn't exactly able to speak at the moment.

Instead, Chaewon does the talking occasionally. You wonder how she is so talkative while still being able to make her unnie moan on your cock.

"I didn't expect this to be so good. Daddy, you should have a taste."

You are too busy with making a mess out of Joy to really answer.

"I wish you would fuck my face like that. Ruin it. Make me choke on that cock of yours."

You give her a light pat on the head, signaling her to keep her attention on eating out Joy.

After another couple of seconds of constant gagging, you let Joy take a deep breath. Her saliva is coating your shaft. The strings, connecting you two, have grown in numbers. They bind you together almost like a spiderweb. One is almost as thick as Joy's pinky. Her drool dribbles down her chin, staining the police vest covering her chest.

Once you think she has recovered enough, you pull her back onto your cock. Joy hasn't said a word since you started to fuck her face. Her eyes do all the talking, since her mouth is stuffed with cock. They are clouded with lust. Like a storm that is going to start at any moment.

It's difficult to sense it, because she keeps gagging, but the time between Joy's moans becomes shorter and shorter. Her mouth making you feel incredible as you slowly start to approach your own climax as well. Chaewon seems to be doing a good job on Joy's snatch as Joy starts to squirm on the chair. She closes her thighs around the younger girl's head, trapping her in between.

You make Joy gag on your cock without a break now. You try to chase your own orgasm, forcing yourself down her throat. Deeper and deeper. Until it won't go further.

Glancing to the floor, you see a huge puddle of juices underneath the three of you. It must be a combination of Joy's and Chaewon's juices and Joy's saliva, which keeps dripping down her chin.

You feel Joy trying to say something, but she can't. Your cock is as deep down her throat as it would go. But the message is an obvious one.

It takes the two of you only a couple of moments, until you both break. Joy's thighs shake wildly as she cums, threatening to crush Chaewon's head in between them. The muscles in her throat tighten around you, making you cum in her mouth. You shoot your cum inside of her as she trembles on the chair. Her own cum starts to stain Chaewon's face, making her look almost as messed up as Joy.

When you have finally nothing left to give, you slowly pull out of Joy's mouth.

She looks at you with satisfied eyes, opening her mouth slightly. You watch her swirl her tongue around in your pool of cum.

"Give me some."

Chaewon underneath you whines like a child.

Joy leans down a little, opening her mouth further. Long ropes of your cum fall out of her mouth. She keeps some of it for herself, but most of the precious liquid falls towards Chaewon.

The young girl already opened her mouth, not wanting to waste a drop. She moans as your cum hits her tongue.

The two of them play around with it in their mouths for a while, before they both swallow it. First Joy, then Chaewon.

"Untie me now. And I will turn this night into the best of your life."

____________

Author's note:

Hey, everyone! Thank you all for reading and voting. As soon as I saw Chaewon's insta upload, I had to write this. And since I'm watching Joy's kdrama right now, I couldn't stop thinking about her either. I know the concept of this and the last chapter are similar, but I couldn't pass up on the opportunity to write about Joy being handcuffed while wearing her uniform.

I hope you enjoyed it anyways. This wasn't planned, but I will do the rest of the pending requests soon.

Have a nice day!

#kpop #kpop girls #kpop smut #male reader #kpop gg #miyeon #gidle miyeon #gidle #soyeon #red velvet #joy #le sserafim #chaewon

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quibbs126 · 1 year ago

Note

Helooooo, can I have espressoline fankid

All right, this is Opera Madeleine Cookie

Fun fact, technically this isn’t the only or first person to request Espresso/Madeleine, as someone else commented a request on the original post I made asking for requests. I believe the name was @cerulaenfunkz. It’s actually listed as my third request, but I guess I just never got around to it. I was originally trying to make it, but I was having so much difficulty figuring out what to do that I just went on to other ones, and I guess it just went to the back of my head. So yeah, of all the fankids, this is probably the longest time coming

Anyways, so Opera Madeleine is named after opera cake, because it’s a cake with coffee in it, but I changed the “cake” to “madeleine” since she’s part of House Madeleine, similar to Choco Madeleine’s name. Also I just think it sounds better

The original name I gave her way back when was Coffee Cake, but I didn’t like that and when I eventually discovered opera cake, I changed it

Opera cake:

I’ve already made my design struggles with her known, basically in that, I had the hair, hairpieces and gloves down, and I like those bits, but wasn’t sure what to do with the rest of her. And to be honest, I like the scarf and boots, but I kind of flubbed with the coat. I thought she’d look cool with a coat, but I also wanted to show off the boots, so I made it high up, and I don’t think it worked all that well. Not to mention I don’t really know what her upper half looks like, as you can see with the admittedly pretty bad sketch

You know what, I may just go back and edit her later to make her coat look better, it’s just bugging me

Edit: I did do that

Originally I gave her blue eyes like Madeleine, but I changed it to pink so she’d look closer to Espresso. Also because I wanted more brown/warm tones, but didn’t want to give up her blue outfit color scheme

All in all, I liked most of drawing her, but I flubbed the last bit and it looks kind of eh. I just didn’t know what to do for it, but I didn’t want to keep her in development hell for eternity and I wanted to do her hair, so I just went with something

Anyways, let’s get on to her

So Opera Madeleine is the heir to House Madeleine, however she is not a Paladin like her father Madeleine and instead chooses to use coffee magic like Espresso. However she still follows Madeleine in that she’s a warrior, she just prefers to use magic instead of a weapon. Granted I’m sure Madeleine still taught her to wield one just in case. And also she’s good at hand to hand combat

Chances are she went to school in Parfaedia, given they have a whole school for magic and from what I can gather, Espresso once went there himself

Unlike Madeleine she’s more of a no nonsense kind of person who’s more focused on her duties as a warrior. Not saying Madeleine doesn’t care about being a warrior, she’s just not as…prideful as him, not caring much about appearance. However one thing she refuses to publicly admit is that she takes great pride in her hair and goes through great lengths to keep it as pristine as possible. But that is the only thing

She’s a hard worker, but not as much of a workaholic as Espresso, as she doesn’t have nearly as much coffee in her dough to maintain that lifestyle. Also Madeleine made sure that she didn’t follow in his footsteps

I feel like I’ve talked a lot about Madeleine but little about Espresso. I imagine the two talk about coffee magic and such, but due to her differing interests in careers, she probably spends more time around Madeleine

I imagine when she was younger, Madeleine just showered her with adoration and tried to be a loving father. But if you asked her which of her parents was the coolest, she would say Espresso, much to Madeleine’s dismay (more like he gets moody that he’s not the favorite more than anything). She’d probably learn combat with Madeleine, but would also just wander off to find Espresso and just watch him do his work for hours on end, quietly sitting in his lab

Hmm, I think that’s all I have to say on her. I wasn’t expecting to write that much to be honest. But yeah, hope you like her

Edit: so as said earlier, she’s been edited, and this is the original if you’re curious

#yeah I think the outfit is just a mood killer for me #it’s the one thing I don’t like #ah well #maybe I’ll fix it later #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #madeleine cookie #espresso cookie #espresseleine #cookie run oc #fankid #fanchild #my ocs #my art #requests #answers #opera madeleine cookie

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jennyyy007 · 4 months ago

Text

PLAYTHING 🗝️ pt. 5

Bathtime!

Cw: Violence, female whumpee, male whumper, punishment, humiliation, degradation, cruel whumper, slave wumpee, drinking piss idk how else to say that

———————————————————————

Another week passed. In the mean time he fed her two times. The meals being rather normal. Not very good but he didn’t add anything disgusting to them.

But during the past week he also came to hurt her quite a lot. But he didn’t seem entertained when he abused her, like he usually is. He was angry. And he used her to let that anger out. Beating her, cutting her skin or kicking her until she couldn’t move anymore.

The girl has found a way to make use of the bottle he left with her a week back. The thought has been stuck with her for the past few days, she didn’t want to, but she has to.

Yesterday she peed inside the empty bottle. She’s been taking small sips occasionally. The taste is horrible but it lets her have at least a bit of hydration.

Footsteps. He’s coming.

The door opens and finally the light turns on again. The man immediately looks at her, stepping closer. He’s frustrated, she can tell by his expression and movements. He takes quick steps towards her cell.

Yeah… she knows why he’s here…

Mary squirms away slightly, further so her back presses against the wall. She doesn’t want to get punished again… everything hurts…

Her captor quickly opens up the cell as he looks down at her before he notices something.. the bottle. It’s still a bit more than half full with the yellow liquid. He crouches down before picking it up.

“What’s that hm?”

Mary looks in his eyes, curled up on the floor with an extremely worried expression.

“I-.. It’s a bottle.. w-.. with my urine..”

He looks down at it before opening it up letting out a chuckle. The girl keeps looking up at him, worried.

“You really can’t get anymore disgusting can you?”

The man says, raising the bottle up before pouring it all over her head, staining her hair with it.

“Ohhh wait. Now you are”

He says with a nasty smirk as be empties all of it before spitting in Marys face, humiliating her even more.

“I.. I’m sorry..”

She says with tears in her eyes. He reaches his hands to grip her hair, making her sit up as she cries.

“You think you’re not getting enough? You wanna have more food to fill your disgustingly fat body huh?!”

He yells in her face before he yanks her hair, making her fall on her side.

“Get up! Get the fuck up you little bitch!”

Mary follows his order, quickly lifting herself up. Her arm is slowly healing, tho she still can’t move it a lot so she struggles with using her other one.

The man grips her upper arm, forcing the girl up on her feet, making her stumble over the floor, dragging her out the cell. But Mary quickly realizes that they’re not going to the table or the torture room. He’s taking her to the door. The door leading outside.

“W-.. where are we- g-going?”

Mary asks weakly as she tries her best to walk, her knees soft as she hasn’t walked in quite a while. Whimpering with every step the take.

The man doesn’t answer her, before they leave the room, stepping through the door. They enter a small hallways which on the other end leads to some stairs.

He doesn’t stop walking, but instead of heading for the stairs he walks in a room that looks like it was used for washing and drying clothes before. The clothes line still hung between two walls. But now there’s only a metal tub inside.

The man throws the girl in the middle of the room before stepping back to the exit.

“Move an inch and I’m gonna break both of your kneecaps.”

He threatens before leaving her. Mary obeys his order. Not wanting to get in trouble more than she already is, scared of what he’s about to do.

After around two minutes later he walks in with two bit plastic bags filled with ice. He steps in front of the tub before emptying both of the bags inside. The sound of the ice colliding with the metal tub hurting Marys ears. After the man was done he quickly turns on the water, putting it on the coldest possible setting.

The girl looks terrified, hoping he wouldn’t make her do what it seems like. Around 5 minutes pass until the tub is full and he turns the water off again before turning to Mary.

“So? Get in.”

The girl stutters as she’s leaned against the wall, sitting on the floor still completely naked.

“I-.. I don’t- I can’t-“

Her captor makes an annoyed groan before he walks over to the girl, reaching out to grab her hair, gripping the top of her head as he drags her across the floor over to the tub.

“No- n-no plea-“

The man quickly picks her up before throwing her inside, some water splashing around. Her body gets covered by the cold water, it being absolutely freezing. Mary quickly gains back her senses before moving to get up, catching some air. Just as she sticks her head out to take a breath she can feel him grip her hair and push her head under water again, making her unable to breathe.

She struggles immediately, trying to get up but he doesn’t let her, keeping her there for around 10 seconds before lifting her head up again, quickly slapping it as he looks her face to face.

“Are you sorry for talking back?”

He asks pulling harder on her hair.

“U- mm.. m-mhm!”

Mary says whining as she opens her eyes, looking at his, noticing his disgusting smirk just before she’s pushed underwater again, this time he keeps her there for around little less than 30 seconds. Making her feel extremely dizzy as shes struggling.

As he lifts her face up he quickly moves to push her back, letting her lay in the tub, catching her breath for a good 10 seconds before she makes a few smaller sobs.

He reaches in his pocket before pulling out a small rag. Throwing it at her face.

“Wash yourself you smell like shit.”

He says as he stands in front of the tub, watching her.

“P-please it’s c-.. cold-“

She cries as she can barely grab the rag. Her bones hurting as she’s shivering all over.

“No. You’ll stay an hour. I didn’t put two bags of fucking ice there for nothing.”

He says as he grabs one of the folding chairs standing by the wall and sitting down on one to keep an eye on Mary, scrolling on his phone like this is normal.

The girl makes another whimper as she takes the cloth, starting to wash herself with it, even tho cold water doesn’t remove a lot of dirt and sweat.

The man takes a small glance over at Mary before standing up from his chair and walking in front of the tub again, his phone in hand before he moves it so the camera points down to Mary, taking a pick of her as she’s looking up. Her body, wounds and bruises completely visible, hair sticking to her face. She’s naked. Her breast being on the picture as well. Mary frowns, making a small cry as the man looks down at his phone, chuckling as he observes the picture.

“God you look fucking miserable”

He says as he walks back to his chair, typing something on his phone.

“W- what a-a.. a-re you g-gonna do w-.. with i-it?”

The girl says, stuttering even worse because of how cold she is. The man looks up from his phone, looking at Mary as he rolls his eyes.

“None of you’re business. And if I sold it to some horny bastards online you still wouldn’t have a say in it.. would you?”

He says chuckling as he looks in her eyes, her expression looking extremely upset, scared and humiliated. She continues washing herself before leaning back, trying to deal with the immense cold. Her fragile bones aching. Her skin red from hypothermia.

After an hour the man gets up from his chair. Walking over to Mary before picking her up under her shoulders, walking over to the chair and sitting her down on it before wrapping a thin blanket around her body.

“Can’t have you getting dirty already”

He says before taking slow steps over to the basement room again. Mary tightly grips the blanket, shivering heavily as she holds onto the man, not wanting him to let go. Not wanting him to leave her in that basement again. The man opens the door, stepping inside before letting go of her, the poor girl dropping down on the floor. She makes a soft whine as her body is forced to move.

Her captor starts walking over to the door and just as he was about to shut off the lights mary calls over for him.

“Please-..”

The man stops, his knuckles tightening around the doorknob.

“Please don’t turn it off.. I.. I’m scared of the dark”

She says in a whiny tone looking over at him. Wet hair sticking to her face and as tears run down her cheek.

He lets out a small chuckle before stepping out, shutting the door.. and the room returns to being pitch black…

———————————————————————

@a-living-canvas @catnykit @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

#kidnapping whump #whump community #whumpee #cruel whumper #female whumpee #male whumper #whump #tw gross #ew

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hufflepuffwritingstuff2 · 2 years ago

Text

Meeting Kai

Credit and big thanks to @deckofaces for inspiring how Kai and Y/N met! (Note- y/f/c= your favorite color)

Kai Masterlist

Y/N swam between schools of fish, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Any magical object, maybe something to wish on; she wasn’t sure what to look for, but she was desperate enough to look anyway. Since being cursed, she would turn into a mermaid anytime she touched water. That included a shimmering, y/f/c tail, webbed ears, and little scales peppered sparsely across her body. Her mer form was beautiful, but it was a hassle at best, even if it did include the ability to breathe underwater.

Y/N was so focused on treasure hunting that she didn’t notice the shadow forming over her until it was too late. Y/N looked up just as a net descended beneath the surface. Her and the schools of fish began to swim in evasive patterns. Their efforts were in vain, however; the fish were caught immediately, and Y/N with them. Y/N struggled to get out of the net, but her tail and arms had gotten tangled in it during her efforts to escape. Y/n could do nothing but struggle and wait for the net to get hauled up out of the water.

Within moments, she was hauled on deck of a pirate ship. The fish around her flopped helplessly in the net. Y/N got smacked in the face several times by their fins.

“Good work men,” a voice echoed, “we’ll be able to fetch a fair price for these at port.”

Fishermen. Hopefully they were the benevolent type.

Y/N yelped as the net was dragged across the ground.

“Wait,” the voice said, “what is that?”

The net stopped moving, and Y/N was uncomfortably aware that she was being watched. A young man stood over her, a grin on his face.

“Hello there,” he said, “what have we here?”

“Um, hello,” Y/N said sheepishly.

Y/N tried to wave, but the net tangled around her arms made that difficult.

“Hehe,” Y/N laughed nervously, “I was just passing by when your net caught me. I don’t suppose you could…?”

Y/N looked down at the tangled mess for emphasis. The fisherman blinked, then laughed.

“Of course, little fish,” he said, “hold still.”

The fisherman dragged Y/N to the center of the deck, then pulled out a knife. He cut through the ropes, being careful not to hurt Y/N.

“Thank you,” Y/N said, “thank you very much.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” the fisherman said, “my name is Kai, what might you be called?”

“I’m Y/N,” Y/N answered, “now if you could just throw me back, I’ll be out of your hair.”

Kai smiled. He wordlessly slid an arm under Y/N’s tail and another behind her back, lifting her up in a bridal carry. Y/N tried to ignore how Kai’s men gawked at her as he carried her, not to the ship’s railing, but to the captain’s cabin.

“Wait, where are we going!?” Y/N asked, “you have to throw me back!”

“But we’ve only just met, little fish,” Kai said, “it would be rude to leave without getting to know each other first. Not that I’ll be letting you leave, but the point still stands.”

“What!?”

“As captain of Calypso’s Wrath, I am responsible for managing all of the treasure we collect. And you are certainly the finest addition to the collection.”

Calypso’s Wrath? That did not sound like a fisherman’s ship.

“Y-you,” Y/N gulped, “you’re not a fisherman, are you?”

Kai looked down at Y/N and laughed out loud.

“What a naïve little thing you are,” Kai said, “I am Kai Nelson, the captain of the most feared pirate ship this side of the globe.”

As Kai spoke, he set Y/N down in a large, glass tank filled with water.

“I was going to use this to house rare species of fish,” Kai explained, “but you’re more valuable than anything else I could catch.”

“Please,” Y/N said, sitting up so that her upper half poked out of the tank, “let me go. I haven’t done anything to you, I’m nothing of value-”

A backhanded slap tore across Y/N’s face faster than she could perceive it.

“Nothing of value?” Kai said darkly, “I’ll be the judge of that. I don’t want to hear you talk about yourself with any lesser treatment than you deserve. Understand?”

Y/N nodded with wide eyes, rubbing the side of her face.

“Alas, little treasure, I must leave you for now,” Kai said, “the men get rowdy without instruction you know.”

Kai left the room, closing the cabin door behind him. The reality of Y/N’s situation sunk in and tears welled in her eyes. Y/N would cry for a good long while before the beginnings of an escape plan would form in her mind.

ko-fi

tags: @mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld

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tavyliasin · 8 months ago

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5 Songs, 3 Outfits

RULES: post 5 songs associated with your oc, followed by 3 outfits they would wear

Tagged by @twistedapple - thank you~ And tagging in: @miradelletarot @morb-untamed @littleprincepaladin @daiya-owoda and @firlionemoontav Also if anyone is reading this and hasn't been tagged and wants to join in, well I'm terrible at choosing and remembering usernames so consider me tagging you in~ Going to put all of this below the cut so it doesn't clog your feeds, but this will all be based on my favourite Tav from @atavsguide, (all chapters are on that side blog as well as AO3). She is my absolute disaster of an elf and a woman who knows so few limits I'm genuinely concerned for her safety. Split heritage leaves her with a pale tone to her skin and long dark hair that's more often tied back to keep most of the blood out. I don't often describe her much in the fic and honestly don't have any good screenshots that I'd say really embody who she is to me, so you'll have to live with outfits and vibes~ Anyway, Tav's outfits and music below the cut!

Formal Outfit

Tav...doesn't really do formal, but Raphael did make her a dress in her dream which was later brought into vivid reality. Hardly the finery suited to the upper classes of Baldur's Gate, the inspiration was arguably more about making her feel uncomfortable and acutely aware of the particular eyes on her form. Tav is far more at home in leathers that carry a lingering scent of blood and sweat, something she can fight and escape in, but even the seasoned rogue knows when a distracting disguise is useful.

Product image from La Belleza Boutique https://www.labellezaboutique.co.uk/product-page/red-silk-dress

Casual Outfit

Tav is fond of red and black, but half her outfits are scavenged and stolen. Lacing and corseting isn't for fashion, it's to make sure things fit in the first place. A jacket keeps out the cold, but a distracting top underneath can be useful for a variety of scenarios... Pair all this with a comfortable pair of boots that come halfway up her shin, nice flat soles and well worn leather, soft to running down the harsh streets but still tough enough to withstand planting a solid kick when necessary.

Corset top, Ebay https://www.ebay.co.uk/itm/386162837704

Long Jacket, Violent Delights https://violentdelights.co.uk/products/devil-fashion-libertines-remorse-womens-gothic-aristocrat-dovetail-coat-red-black

Lace up leather trousers, Leather City https://www.theleathercity.com/product/womens-lace-up-flare-brown-leather-pant/

Lingerie

I struggled to find anything that matched what I'd see our favourite disaster in, so I went with something sturdy but sexy. Dark, alluring, she knows what she wants at the end of the day and that's clearly [explicit redacted] with whoever falls into her bed - "take pleasure where you can, you never know when this night might be your last".

Velvet and Lace Lingerie Set, Killstar https://www.succubus.com/products/killstar-sacred-spirits-velvet-bralet-black

---

The Music Of ATG's Tav

1. Empire of the Sun - Solence

An old favourite, playing on the shifting moods between longing and a need to find a way out of a loop that never seems to end. Warming up to the idea of love being for herself and not just what other people get to enjoy is not easy for Tav but that doesn't mean she doesn't desperately want to hold on to every moment of sunlight on her skin.

youtube

2. Break Me - Serenity

Lyrics of resilience wrapped in a sensual tune with a harder edge. Tav has this on repeat now and then. She's never sure if she feels strong or sad, but it's a song that resonates with a lifetime of troubles interspersed with whatever moments of bliss she can steal for herself.

youtube

3. Dawn - Echo Black

Listen this might be becoming a battle of "who needs therapy more, Lia or Tav" but I promise this is all her~

youtube

4. Masks - Aviators

I'm not saying that Tav has trust issues...but she definitely does. You don't survive for 2 centuries on your own without building up your defences and learning to see through the convenient lies and faces everyone hides behind in the street.

youtube

5. Fire Up The Night - New Medicine

When Tav cuts loose, she thoroughly enjoys herself. Lust is a chance encounter to indulge in, an opportunity to explore, and she's not letting a single one of those chances pass her by.

youtube

--- --- OK that'll do it! I spent way too long on this but it was fun~ Thanks for the tag! I'll have to get some more OCs in my head eventually, but not until Tav's found the end of her story~

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 tav #a tav's guide #oc headcanons #OC personality #music recommendation #oc outfits #Youtube #Spotify

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thepaintedlady00 · 2 years ago

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Nightshade

Chapter 12 | Chapter 14

Chapter 13: Pas de Deux

TW: I know nothing about dancing, this chapter is flashback heavy, so there are lots of painful and kind of intense memories, panic attacks, depictions of violence, references to past drug use, mentions of abuse and neglect, Lena's mom sucks, Olive's the worst, Simone's just as bad as always, some classic hurt & comfort vibes, loving siblings, the emotions in this chapter are intense, and another slight cliffie to send y'all to the grave! Y'all know the drill. I edited this quick, so there might be some mistakes!

“One two three, one two three, one two three.” I mouthed the words with her as I meticulously molded my body into the correct positions with the rest of the group. My mother's stick slapped hard against my wrist. “Keep your hands soft, Lena.”

Soft hands, I repeated to myself, blinking through the sting of pain and softening my upper body. Be like a leaf in a gentle breeze, soft, light, and graceful. The boy next to me snorted back, laughter catching my glare. He was my age, maybe a year or two older, with curly blonde hair and bright amber-brown eyes that sparkled in the light reflecting in the mirrors. He was handsome, but his smile truly drew me in. Wide and unhidden as he chuckled again, meeting my harsh glare with soft eyes. “Tes cheveux ressemblent à du feu.”

“What?” I asked, still struggling with my French.

“Your hair,” he pointed at the bright red locks. “It looks like fire.”

Self-consciously I smoothed my hands over my head, pulling the loose strands away from my face. “I guess.”

The boy smiled. “I like it.”

I laughed nervously at his comment, not used to anyone complimenting me on my hair or, well, anything. “Thanks.”

He held his hand out. “I am François.”

I took it reluctantly. “I’m Lena.”

“Leeennnaaa,” he dragged out with a brilliant smile. “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”

My face burned as I turned away from him with a fraction of a smile. “I’d say I’m pretty average looking.”

François made a noise as he scooted closer to me. “Nonsense! Do you know how many people I’ve met that are average looking? Hundreds. You are not average in any sense, I would guess.”

Mother's stick slapped down onto his shoulder, but to my surprise, he merely exhaled a sharp breath and smiled wider. “Apologies, Mistress Glover.”

She gave me a stern look, her lips thinning into that familiar disappointed line. “Practice makes perfect. Tell me, how do you two intend to be perfect if you waste your time on idle chatting?”

“Perfection can be achieved in many ways," François replied. “It’s all a matter of what task you’re trying to perfect.”

“From now on, that task will be the routine. Am I clear?”

“Cristal, Maîtresse Gantier.” When she moved on, raising her stick to strike another student, François chuckled, nudging me with his shoulder. “She is a bit of a tight ass, no?”

I couldn’t contain the laugh that bubbled out of my throat. “My mother is a woman of a singular focus.”

“Ta mère?” He sighed. “I apologize for my crudeness, Mademoiselle Glover. I did not realize the shrew - Mistress was your mother.”

“It’s Harrow. Lena Harrow. I have my father's last name.” I smiled at him. “And it’s alright. The… shrew can be rather intense.”

He laughed, warm and bright and full of life. The sound sent a wave of something odd through me… it made me feel happy just hearing it. “Will you dance with me, oiseau de feu?”

“Oiseau de feu?” I repeated with furrowed brows, looking over at the half-finished poster. L'Oiseau de feu. “Like the show?”

“Oui, I assume you are playing the Firebird?”

I shrugged. “I guess.”

“This is good! For I am the mighty Prince Ivan!” François spun away, stopping to offer me his hand. “Now, dance with me mon précieux oiseau de feu!”

I wanted to dance for the first time since my mother began teaching me ballet. Taking his hand and letting him spin me into the intricate movements I’d been practicing night and day for months felt fun. Being part of the show no longer felt like a crushing weight on my back but rather a chance to dance with François, the boy that thought I was beautiful just as I was, even with the bumps and scrapes and bruises and blinding red hair. For the first time in my life, I felt seen and appreciated. For the first time, I cherished the nickname he’d given me and wanted to hear him call me it again. His Precious Firebird.

My body hummed with a lingering feeling of peace and a minor stiffness in my neck that slowly eased me into waking. When my heavy lids opened to the unfamiliar room, my heart stopped. Blinking slowly, I instantly took note of the hotel furniture and the impersonal paintings on the walls, and pure terror filled my gut. No. I let out a choked breath trying to move… to find a way out of here, but a weight settled across my waist and stopped me. My hand slid down, feeling across the back of the hand that had settled beneath my breasts. Soft skin, unmarred by the scar, I knew the man I feared had.

In the distance, I heard the soft voices of Quinn and Ari as they walked down the hall together, and the previous night came flooding back to me with a deep breath of relief filling my lungs. I was safe. My palm flattened against the back of his hand. Jake. Tears stung my eyes, and my lips quivered as I relaxed into the stiff mattress, too soft pillows and against Jake’s chest. His body was curled around mine, the arm tightly keeping me against him as he snored softly.

As soon as I settled, he began to stir, making soft noises of sleep, burying his head in my hair, and rubbing his nose against my ear. The erratic and near-painful pounding of my heart in my chest slowed. I drifted back to sleep, surrounded by his cologne and smoke. Safe.

I had no idea how long I slept, nor did I particularly care as I slowly woke to Jake's thumb smoothing along my skin as his hand flattened against my chest. Surprisingly he didn't utilize the position of his hand beneath my shirt to touch my boobs. Instead, his hand stayed firmly in place, gently rubbing my skin as he breathed deeply, face still buried in my hair. I smiled, remembering his confession about the way I smelled. "At this point, I should just buy you the perfume I use."

His chuckle shook the bed as he moved his lips to my ear. "It wouldn't smell nearly as good as you do."

"That's creepy," I teased. "You gonna cook me up and eat me?"

"I'm a shit cook," he replied. "I'll have Scott do it."

"Scott would tell you to fuck off."

Jake laughed, nodding his heart slightly. "Probably."

I stretched, pushing back into him slightly and cherishing the low groan that rumbled from his chest as my ass ground back into his morning wood. “Fuck.”

Smirking at him over my shoulder, I bit back a chuckle. “Sorry.”

“Yeah right,” he breathed out, pulling his hand from beneath my shirt and moving to allow me to roll onto my back. “You just like riling me up.”

“In my defense, you are really easy to get riled up,” I answered. “Which is ironic considering how you claim to be so good at this kind of thing.”

Jake tilted his head and raised a brow. “Was last night not enough of a demonstration for you?”

“It was… informative.”

“Informative?” He scoffed. “I think the word you’re thinking of is mindblowing.”

I rolled my eyes. “I think that’d be overselling it a bit.”

The blue in his eyes was darker than usual as he moved to hover over me. "Do you want some more attention, princess?"

"Depends. What kind of attention will I get this time?"

Jake was quick to offer up both a physical and verbal reply. His thumb brushed over my nipple, gently working the small bud until it was perked between his fingers. "I had quite the dream last night. My head, between your thighs, edging you until you were shaking… Begging for me to fuck you."

I tried to hide how his words affected me, but between his deep, sensual voice and his fingers rolling and pulling at my nipple, it was impossible to hold in the sharp gasp of blissful anticipation. "That doesn't sound like something I'd do."

He chuckled, face dipping lower until his lips caressed mine. "I enjoy a good challenge."

"Wakey, wakey!" Sasha's voice was louder than the door's slam hitting the wall. Jake and I stirred quickly, grumbling and glaring at him as he skipped into the room and hopped onto the bed. He pulled at the covers, trying to peek beneath them. "I see you are both still dressed!"

"Sasha fuck off!" Jake growled, grabbing a pillow from his side of the bed and hitting the Russian with it.

He giggled, sliding off the bed to kneel next to me. "Oohh, so grumpy! Sorry, dear Jakey, you had your chance to get your little cock wet last month. Now I need to keep you two celibate until after Halloween!"

“Why the sudden change of heart?” I asked.

“Because I don’t want those smug little cunts to win a cent.” Sasah grinned ear to ear. “You understand, don’t you, Tiger?”

Shoving his face away from me, I sat up next to Jake, who glared at the Russian lying on the floor. "Think I'm with grumpy on this one."

"Very well," Sasha humphed. "Strip yourselves and attack each other. I will watch!" Jake rolled his eyes and stood, picking the Russian up and ushering him toward the door. Sasha giggled in delight, eyes staring at Jake's crotch. "Oh, she did get you excited!"

The door slammed in Sasha's face, and Jake sighed, seeing one up and out of bed. I smiled, toying with the chain around his neck. "I think we'll have to explore your wet dream later. Raincheck?"

"I'll hold you to it."

"Aww, are you feeling riled up, pretty boy?" I taunted.

He grinned, pulling me in close, grinding himself against my hip. "Keep the jokes coming, princess. I'll remember each one when I'm edging you."

"I enjoy a challenge."

After showering, I bribed Prue into sneaking me a turtleneck from Quinn's stash of clothes to hide the area of discolored hickeys that covered my neck and chest. I knew it would still be obvious to everyone, but I decided to try to preserve some sense of privacy as I joined the others downstairs. Ari grinned wide. "I know what that outfit means. Let me see!"

I smacked her hands away, effectively twisting out of Quinn's reach. "You two are obsessed!"

When Jake finally finished showering and joined us, clothed in his usual t-shirt, jeans, and leather jacket, the group practically jumped on top of him. “Morning, Jakey!”

“Morning,” he grumbled.

“I see some claw marks,” Ari purred, wiggling her eyebrows at Jake. “Did you two finally light a fire with all that sexual tension?”

Sasha threw his arm around Jake’s shoulder with a smug smile. “No, they did not! I made sure of it!”

Ari shook her head. “You can’t seriously think you’ll be able to stop these two from doing it all the way til Halloween.”

“I can, and I will!” He insisted. “Laws of attraction.”

She rolled her eyes, groaning as she returned to Quinn's side. “Not this shit again.”

“Did you sleep okay, Lena?” Prue asked from where she and Will sat, curled into each other on the couch.

I blushed a bit and shrugged, both signing and saying, “I had some trouble at first, but yeah… I slept pretty good.”

“Pretty good?” Jake asked with a smirk. “By the way, you were… snoring I’d say it was more than just pretty good.”

“It could have been better.” I shrugged.

Quinn sipped her coffee and sighed. “We’re not stupid. We know you two are talking about whatever sexual favors you exchanged last night.”

Before I could offer up any argument, all our phones buzzed. Will sighed. “That can’t be good.”

Change of plans this morning. Meet outside the restaurant, and dress for a field trip. - Howard.

“Another field trip?” Ari whined.

I glanced at everyone’s slightly sullen faces. “What’s going on?”

Jake shook his head, taking a quick bite of a small muffin. “Howard’s gone off the rails again.”

“Well, let's go see what he has in store this time,” Scott groaned.

Heather made a face and shook her head. “God, I hope it’s not a pig again.”

I squinted at Jake as we followed the group to the elevator. Ari and Will hung back to give their partners goodbye kisses. “You guys went on a field trip to see a pig?”

“It was more to watch a pig bleed out,” he explained. “Definitely one of Howard's more fucked up changes.”

“Holy shit. Glad I wasn’t there for that.”

Ari laughed. “Well, the one upside to that morning was getting to hear Will’s gag scream.”

Will shook her hands off him. “I told you I was probably allergic to the hay or something.”

“Yeah, okay,” Heather replied.

Sasha shook his head. “I am still upset Howard chose the one morning I wasn’t going to be there to traumatize everyone.”

"You still gotta have fun after running around with the feet." Will noted.

"God you guys are disgusting," Scott complained.

22West was blocked from view by a large bus when we arrived. Howard and the others stood on the sidewalk, speaking quietly among themselves. Simone smiled, waving Jake to her side to quietly speak with him. Howard greeted everyone with a smile. "Good morning, Changelings."

"Morning Howard," we replied.

"Today is a special day. A very moving and beautiful new show is opening to the public. Tonight we'll be having many dining with us that are well-versed in this field, and so the owner and I agree that a trip to the ballet is in everyone's best interest."

Our eyes locked, and the pitiful look lingering on his face told me that my fear was rightly placed. My breath caught in my throat, bringing an aching burn to my chest as I looked away. The noise surrounding me blurred together as I boarded the bus, sitting in the very back and staring out the window. From a few rows up, sitting beside Simone, Jake turned and looked back at me a few times. The concern in his eyes only made me feel more anxious about this field trip, and the constant talking from our coworkers didn’t help.

They'd all been horrified at the sight of a pig being led to slaughter; little did they know they were doing it again. The only difference was I was the pig, and whatever my mother had in store was the blade she'd intended to bleed me dry with. I knew the road to the theatre by heart. Every bump and every stop. When the large courtyard came into view with the majestic fountain covering up the words hanging over the door of the boxy building with large windows.

Everyone else was eager to get off the crowded bus, leaving me to slowly make my way to the front, where Howard waited for me. He offered up his hand, a friendly gesture meant to be an olive branch between us, but I walked past him, not even entertaining the thought of forgiveness. Jake stayed close to Simone but seemed to walk slowly as if wanting to wait for me to get off the bus before he committed to following everyone else inside.

The soft echoes of classical music swept through the lobby as the staff greeted us sweetly. The memories of this place… the faint voice that scolded over the music… it all brought me to a halt. I would have turned and run if it weren’t for Howard's hand on my back, silently urging me to keep moving forward. Anger crawled up my spine as I shoved away from his touch. Fucking coward. Striding forward with my head high, I followed the group as the staff ushered them through the doors and into the darkened theatre.

A host of dancers occupied the stage, dressed in simple practice tights as they leaped and spun through mothers quick movements. “One, two, three. One, two, three,” Her voice sent a cold chill straight into my veins as we filed loosely into the seats and watched the remainder of their routine. Once the dancers relaxed, lightly stretching out their stiff limbs, mother clapped. “Perfection! Absolute perfection, my little dancers! Tonight is going to be a glorious opening, all thanks to you.”

“Ms. Glover,” a smaller, familiar voice called to her from the crowd. Olive stood next to the stage, looking up at my mother with a smile. “The 22West party has arrived.”

“Thank you, Olivia.” My hands tingled as reality settled into my brain. All this time… Olive had never been just another hire. I turned and looked at Howard, who now refused to meet my gaze. All this time, she’d been working for my mother. What was her goal? To sabotage me and force me to come crawling back to her?

“Of course, Ms. Glover,” she replied, eyes meeting mine for a moment, flashing with envy and deep-rooted anger that stretched far beyond some half-assed mission to keep tabs on me.

My mother looked the same, her long half-curled blonde hair neatly pulled back into an elegant ponytail with her red stained lips curved into a smile I now knew was fake. “Lena,” she purred. “It is so good to see you, little one.”

From my seat, I continued to glare. “What do you want?”

“So forward,” she laughed. “As always.”

“We can do the back and forth if you really want to,” I offered coldly. “But something tells me you have no interest in looking bad in front of all these people.”

She shook her head and spread her arms wide. “Welcome to our humble theatre. My sister, your boss, has told me so much about all of you. As has my assistant, whom you’ve met. Olivia, please introduce yourself properly.”

The girl turned and smiled at everyone, no longer the meek little thing she’d been posing as. “Hello. So sorry for the deception, but my employer was worried if she reached out to her… daughter… directly, things would get unnecessarily complicated.” I bit my lip to keep in the loud scoff as she set her hand against her chest, eyes locking on Jake. “I’m Oliva, and it’s been an honor to work beside all of you.”

“This is creep city,” Sasha whispered somewhere in the crowd.

“Simone,” mother said softly as she smiled down into the crowd. “It is so lovely to finally have a face to imagine after all these months of speaking. I’m glad you could make it.”

The blonde-haired woman cleared her throat and chuckled, placing a hand on Jake’s shoulder as he looked at her with confused eyes. At least that meant he had no idea that this was going to happen. “It is an honor to finally meet you, Jen.”

Refocusing on me, mother tilted her head to the side. “I’m not a monster, Lena. Despite what you’ve chosen to believe.”

“What. Do. You. Want.” I ground out.

“My dancers have been working so hard to perfect this piece. I fear the Pas de Deux is falling a bit short.” Gesturing to the side where Olive now held a small set of practice clothes, she continued, “I was hoping you would be able to show them how it’s done.”

"I'm the last person you want on that stage, and we both know it," I replied, glaring at her.

Mother scoffed. "Nonsense! Out of everyone in this room, you, little one, are the only one capable of showing these children how it's done." Her smile was just as cold as I'd remembered it. "After all, you excelled at the dance for two. Though, I suppose, that very well could have been your partner's talent."

My hands curled into the arms of my seat at the low and effective blow. "Or maybe it was the relentless beatings encouraging me to remember the steps."

"Come, Lena. Dance."

I could see the finality of it in her eyes as she stared me down. She wasn’t going to let this go, and knowing her, she was prepared to drag this out… to keep everyone here until I complied with her command. With one deep breath out through my nose, I stood, walked to Olive’s side and grabbed the clothes out of her hands, and headed to the bathroom to change into one of the spare practice tights and pre-distressed shoes.

The stage was silent when I returned, save the gossiping whispers of my coworkers, who were now cast in darkness as the stage lights blinded me. I stood in front of my mother and shrugged. “What piece?”

“One you are more than familiar with.” I knew then and there exactly what her hope was. Pain. “Demetri,” she called the tall boy forward. “You’ll be dancing with her. Focus on the feel of the dance, not just the steps but the emotion behind the piece.”

The soft tune of Swan Lake’s “Love Duet” filled the theatre, and I felt my heart stop beating for a moment. Her cruelty knew no bounds as I carefully placed myself in the correct position and played along with her game. Demetri’s hand took mine, and a cold wave of remorse and a deep feeling of betrayal filled my lungs as he pulled me up into the dance for two François and I never got to have. We moved well together, my body remembering every step and every formation of its own accord despite not having practiced for almost two months. The sting of pain that settled in my toes was worse than it would have been if I’d kept practicing, but right now, I didn’t care.

Demetri dipped me back, carefully contorting my spine. The lights made me feel dizzy as they swirled in my vision, and as I was pulled back up, I was suddenly thirteen again. And the stranger that had dipped me wasn't a stranger anymore, but rather the wild fourteen-year-old boy whose smile filled my world with sunlight. He grinned at me, pulling me in close with a wink. "Don't worry, Précieuse. I won't let you mess up."

I breathed a sigh of relief, melting into his arms and letting him guide me through the steps. "François."

He smiled wider. "Hold onto me, my firebird, and feel the dance!"

“I’m a swan now,” I corrected him.

“A flaming swan,” he chuckled. “What imagery!”

The light curls on his head bounced as he twisted and twirled, lifting me high into the air and never faltering. His sunlight was the only thing that seemed to break through the storm clouds that were my mother and her stick. François was good, far better than I deserved, yet he chose me to dance with every day, even after our roles were gone. A weight lifted off my shoulders as we moved together in our new Pas de Deux.

We danced through the entire routine before the face in front of mine shifted back. A stranger stared back at me. Brown hair and face void of all laughter and smiling. Not, François. Tears filled my eyes as the two of us turned and bowed to the now-clapping crowd. I could feel my hands shaking, could feel the heavy breaths I drew inward, but I had no way of stopping it. All I could focus on was not letting the tears in my eyes fall.

Mother didn’t clap as she dismissed Demetri with a wave. “That was sloppy.” There it is. “You were far too stiff, and your limbs to flimsy.”

“Well, sadly, we don’t have access to a boat,” I told her. “So you’ll have to think of some other way to punish me for my laziness.”

Shaking her head, she sighed. “I am so disappointed. All the work we did, all the years we spent perfecting you… wasted.”

Grinding my teeth together, I shrugged, trying to remain unphased by her words. “This is the life I’ve chosen for myself.”

“Life?” She hissed in French. “These tattoos and the lowly position in that damn restaurant is hardly a life.” Taking a step forward, she brushed my hair away from my neck, examining the hickeys Jake had left there only an hour or so ago with a tight look. “All these years later, and you still insist on parading yourself around this city like some common whore. What would Anthony think?”

“He can choke on his opinions,” I sneered back.

The slap was something I saw coming, but judging by the sharp gasps that filled the darkened crowd, my coworkers hadn’t. “Don’t you dare insult him! That man offered you everything, and you threw it all away. Because of what? Some small bruises here and there?”

I straightened up, blinking away the tears. “We both know you’ll have to hit me a lot harder than that.”

“Such a child,” she whispered. “What would your father think if he could see you now?”

“He’d tell me to spit in your face and tell you to go to hell.” I breathed out a ragged breath. “And then he’d take me home, and we’d celebrate finally being rid of you.”

“Are you rid of me, little one?” She purred in French. “Or have you simply not realized how deeply you still need me?”

“I don’t regret leaving,” I told her firmly. “I never will.”

“We will see.”

Turning quickly, I started to head back toward the bathroom when the loud thumping of a cane striking the floor stopped me, and a head of curly blonde hair emerged from behind the curtains. François… He looked so different, older but no less handsome. His eyes watched me, sorrow and pain and everything left unspoken between us raging within them. The memory of that night hummed between us, a painful and powerful force that made me wish I’d never come here again.

Tony’s hand tightened painfully around mine, crushing my palms against the gun's metal. He kept his aim steady even as my hands shook uncontrollably. “Please don’t do this…” I sobbed, staring at François’ bleeding and swollen face as Tony’s men dragged him to his feet. “I’ll do anything! Please, Tony, just let him go!”

“It’s too late for all that, baby girl. Now it’s time to face the consequences of your actions.”

François groaned, “Bâtard.”

I could feel Tony’s smile against my ear. “Pull the trigger, Lena.”

Dread filled my gut with the strong urge to vomit. “N… No… I…”

Tony’s fingers forced mine over the trigger, slowly increasing the weight behind them and pushing my smaller, weaker fingers down on the trigger. “Pull. The. Trigger.”

“Please,” I begged him, tears nearly blinding me. “Please… I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Tony, I won’t do it again. I promise just-”

“PULL THE TRIGGER!”

I couldn’t fight him as he forced his finger down the rest of the way, and the trigger pulled back. The gunshot was louder than I thought it’d be, but the kick of the gun made me scream. I focused on the scarlet liquid covering the pavement as the two men holding François up let him fall. As the pained wails followed, his body hit the ground with a sickening sound. The blood poured from his knee, rushing through his fingers like rivers as he turned onto his back.

All I could do was stand there, in Tony’s too-tight grip, as François… my friend… the boy I thought the world of, cried out in pain. “This is what happens when you refuse my kindness, Lena. All of this… is your doing.”

He let go of me, letting me rush forward to kneel beside the wounded boy. “François!”

“My leg…” he cried out. “My… my leg…”

I pressed my hands to his knee, choking back sobs as his pained wails echoed around us. I tried to comfort him… tried to tell him everything would be alright, but I knew it was a lie. Finally, Tony clicked his tongue and kicked my leg. "Get up."

My heart hammered in my chest as my eyes clouded over with fat, blurry tears. "I… I…" I’m sorry. I wanted to offer up to console him. I love you. I wanted to admit out loud, at least once, before he…

"Don't leave me," he begged through his cries. "Do not leave me here, Précieuse."

With a scoff, Tony’s hand twisted in my hair. "I said get up!" The too-familiar sting of him pulling me by my roots exploded across my scalp as he tore me from the boy lying in his own blood. I cried out as he threw me against the red and white sports car parked at the mouth of the alley. My head cracked against the cold metal, vision swimming as I looked back.

"Précieuse…" He gasped, turned, and reached out toward me. "Lena, please!"

Tony shoved me into the passenger seat and quickly pulled out of the alleyway onto the busy road. The city lights bled together, distorted in the falling drops of rain. I looked down at my hands covered in blood - the blood of the boy I had grown to love and that I thought could somehow love me in return - and breathed out a sharp sob. "Shut up," Tony growled, throwing me a silk handkerchief. "Clean yourself up, and don't you dare puke in my car."

"Are… Are you going to kill him?" I stuttered, shakily following his command.

He laughed, a sound that brought a cold chill down my spine. "There are worse things than dying, baby girl. You'd best remember that the next time you wanna get friendly with idiot boys." His hand settled onto my thigh, squeezing so hard it hurt. "You belong to me, and it’d be in your best interest not to forget that again. We’re going home.”

Home. I thought of my father and brothers… Ozzy, Quinn, and even Dom. I want to go home, I admitted, as more tears streamed down my cheeks. But I couldn’t, and now that I was here… now that Tony had me, I knew deep in my gut that I wouldn’t see home or those I loved again.

My eyes fixed on the leg that I’d not seen since I visited him in the hospital after, and then I looked at the cane he held in a tight grip. “There are worse things than dying.” I bowed my head, offering him the only thing he’d ever asked of me as I shakily walked past him and out the door. Once I’d slid into the bathroom, the tears I’d held back began to fall. I settled against the wall, slowly dropping myself to the floor when the door opened.

Ari slid through the door, spotting me on the floor with furrowed brows and an understanding look. Without a word, she joined me, curling an arm around my side and pulling me into her embrace. “Let it all out, tiger.”

I sobbed into her shoulder, unleashing all the pain that the morning had unearthed from inside me. She and I weren’t the closest friends, but at that moment, I was thankful it had been her to find me. Ari understood what it felt like to have a parent like my mother, or at least she understood enough. As we sat beside one another until my tears stopped flowing, Ari ran her fingers through my hair and gently reassured me that I wasn’t alone.

“Thanks,” I whispered to her as we pulled apart, and I fixed myself in the mirror.

She set her chin on my shoulder and smiled sadly. “Fuck your mom.” With a quick kiss on my cheek, she turned to leave. “I’ll wait for you outside. We can sit together on the bus.”

True to her word Ari waited. She walked back to the bus with me, holding my hand as we slid through the tight aisle and sat near the back. Simone had taken the front seat, alone and looking stoic. Jake sat a row behind us with Heather, but his eyes were glued to me the whole ride back, and remained that way in the locker room while everyone quietly changed for the night of service ahead of us.

He waited until we were alone to turn, closing his locker as he did, and say, “I didn’t know Simone had been talking to your mom.”

“I know,” I assured him.

“Are you…” he stopped himself, likely realizing how asking me if I was okay was a stupid question. “What can I do?”

I closed my locker and turned to him. “You don’t have to do anything, Jake.”

“I want to help,” he admitted.

“You are helping. Just by being here… asking me this, you’re helping.”

He shook his head. “Doesn’t feel like it’s enough.”

I wrapped my arms around him, giving him a quick hug. “I know, but it is. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, princess.”

The night was shockingly calm as service came and went without a hitch. Before I knew it, I was gathering my things and telling Jake I’d meet him down by the bar. It was then when I was alone, that Howard cleared his throat and entered the locker room. “Lena…”

“Don’t.” I turned and glared at him. “I don’t want some half-assed apology, Howard. Especially not from you.”

“I didn’t have a choice, Lena.”

“Yes, you did. You could have said no.” I shook my head and scoffed. “Going to observe a ballet rehearsal has nothing to do with fine dining or our guests. You knew this was a fucking ploy to get me in the same room as her, and you did it anyway!” Moving to stand closer to him, I clenched my jaw. “You’re a weak, spineless, sniveling excuse for a man… a fucking coward.”

Each step I took down the stairs was filled with a cool-tempered need to run, to get as far from this city as I possibly could. I turned to the alley door, ignoring the familiar shouts of my name as Jake followed close behind me. Go, my body hummed. Run.

“Lena!” Jake called out, rushing to catch up to me and block me from leaving the alley.

"Get out of my way Jake."

"Just slow down for one minute," he breathed out, taking hold of my shoulders. "Fuck the cape. Remember?"

"Jake..." A weak noise tore through my throat. “I…”

His hands framed my face gently. "Hey, hey, look at me." I followed his quiet plea and looked into his eyes... Eyes so blue I thought for a moment I would drown in them. "Don't run. Stay." He pressed his forehead against mine. "Stay with me."

"And do what?" I cried. "Force you to sit in this pity party with me?"

"Come with me," he urged, taking my hand and carefully pulling me along. "Come on, princess, just indulge me."

We walked hand in hand a few blocks up to an old movie theatre, where Jake smiled down at my confused face and led me inside. “We’re going to a movie?”

He nodded. “You too good for the movies?”

“No, but I thought you’d find them childish.”

“It’s a good way to distract yourself,” he replied. “I used to go to the movies a lot when Simone lived in France.”

“She lived in France?” I asked. “Funny, I guess I just can’t imagine her outside of the restaurant.”

Jake shrugged. “She was miserable there, though she won’t admit it. It was a hard time for me… I needed to distract myself a lot.”

I squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. Besides, tonight is about distracting you. So, pick a movie.”

Staring at the posters advertising the movies they had, I hummed. “You pick.”

He grinned. “You sure? I don’t know if you’ll like what I choose.”

“I’m sure,” I insisted. “Surprise me, grump.”

“Okay, just remember you asked for it.”

The urgent desire to flee had simmered into a passing thought now as I watched Jake pay for the tickets and snacks. If Quinn saw us, she’d say this was a date. Which it wasn’t. This was two friends watching a movie. Jake nodded me toward the hallway leading back into the showing rooms and carefully took hold of my hand once we entered the darkened theatre. He led us all the way up the stairs to the very back of the room, moving through the aisle to get the perfect middle seats before he plopped down and got comfortable.

It was relatively empty, with one a few people scattered about the theatre watching the ads on the screen. “What did you choose?” I asked, leaning in close so he’d hear me.

“The Entrance. It’s some kind of demon horror film.”

“Oh,” I made a face which in turn made Jake chuckle.

“Told you.”

I rolled my eyes at him, settling back in my seat. “I’m fine with horror.”

He nodded. “Uh-huh, well, my hands always here if you need something to hold onto, princess.”

“God, you’re annoying.”

The film wasn’t anything too horrible, but I found myself leaning into Jake’s side, bringing my knees up to my chest with his leather jacket draped over me to give myself a discrete way to hide if I needed to. Jake knew, of course, but said nothing as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder when things got too intense. It was only when we were nearing the end of the film that I realized his plan had worked. The urge to run off to some nowhere town was gone, replaced by an anxious feeling that came with watching horror films and a warmth that came with Jake holding me.

I turned my head and looked up at him, admiring the way he watched the movie with a look of wonder. He noticed me staring and turned his head, lips quirking up into a smile. “What?”

“Thank you,” I whispered back. “For coming after me.”

“What else would I have done? We pinky swore.”

I shoved him with a hand to the chest. “I’m serious. I… I would have gone back if you hadn’t of thought of this. So, thanks.”

Jake held my hand to his chest and smiled. “You're welcome.”

The movie played as we stared at one another, overexaggerated screams and demonic noises filling the theatre, and yet all I could see was him as he leaned forward and dipped his head down to capture my lips. His jacket slid off my legs as I turned my body toward him, pushing back against him. It had felt like ages since we’d kissed when I knew it was only a few days prior. But god, his lips were far more addictive than any drug I’d had. They moved against mine, desperate and wanting, demanding me to meet his quick pace, and I did.

Jake’s hand slid up my arm and buried it in my hair while the other grabbed my thigh, pulling it into his lap. I groaned quietly, opening my mouth to his eager tongue. Both of us seemed content to ignore the end of the movie as we made out in the back row like two teenagers. It wasn’t until the lights turned on that we found it in ourselves to separate.

“You’ve never seen Ghostbusters?” I shrieked on the walk home.

“I haven’t,” he repeated. “Is that weird?”

“YES!” I laughed. “It’s a classic!”

Our shoulders brushed as we walked through the crowded sidewalks until my apartment came into view ahead of us. “You gonna invite me to stay the night?”

I looked up at him. “What makes you think I was gonna do that?”

"You kissed me back."

"So?" I offered him a half-nervous smirk. "I'm still not going to sleep with you."

Jake rolled his eyes. "No?"

"Nope."

"Why not?" He asked with a quirked brow. "We've done pretty much everything else."

I looked back out at the bright city lights ahead of us, the chilled breeze stinging my face. Before I could even think, I answered him, "Because the second I do all this ends. No more tag. No more sarcastic quips. No more walks home. No more Jake." The silence that followed felt like a punch to the gut, a feeling that spurred me into talking more. I bumped into him lightly. "Believe it or not, I like you. I don't wanna lose this."

Jake didn't reply for a while, and honestly, I didn't expect him to.. "So what you're saying is you like me too much to fuck me?"

I laughed, "I guess."

He bumped me back and quietly admitted, "I like you too." When I looked up at him, he smiled, tight and nervous. "I like you too much to fuck this up."

"So don't," I advised as we reached my apartment, where Ryker stood by the steps. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jake nodded to the biker, quickly noticing the others that stood across the street. “I’m guessing this guard detail is because of the rock?”

Scratching the back of my head, I nodded. “Yeah, Dom’s kind of overprotective.”

“Or he just knows how dangerous a freak with a rock can be.”

“Hey,” I touched his face softly. “Don’t worry about me. I’m good.”

He answered with a tight smile. “I’d hope so with six bikers on your block.”

My legs carried me up the stairs, waving to Ryker. “Hey, Ry.”

“Hey, Lee,” he replied.

I turned and smiled at Jake. “Goodnight, Jerky Jake.”

He shook his head, feigning annoyance. "Night, Lana.”

The next day was hell. The restaurant was flooded with guests who seemed to be in the worst mood. Everyone was scrambling, everyone but Simone and Olive. The two worked in perfect harmony, outshining everyone in the front room and gaining the guest's favor. It was infuriating. Each time I ran ice back to the bar or grabbed someone a bottle of wine, I saw their smug smiles and overly polite, fake tones. All this time, they’d been working together to try and get me so fed up I’d quit, and honestly, now that I knew, it felt so obvious.

How did I miss that? I asked myself. I used to be so observant when it came to threats like this. Jake smiled at me from behind the bar, and the answer to my unasked question had been clear. I’d been distracted. So much so that I missed the deception right in front of me. Still, I gave the night everything I had, running ice to the bar and cooking beside Scott, and washing dishes with Santos. No matter how much I did, I couldn’t shake the way Simone and Olive’s smug faces made me feel.

After shift drinks came like an answered prayer as I sat down beside Sasha and smiled at Jake. “What did you make me tonight?”

Sliding the glass of amber liquid to me, he smirked. “Just a simple Manhattan tonight.”

“With a cherry,” I said, plucking the small fruit out of my drink. “How thoughtful.”

Olive slid into the seat to my right, leaning over the bar to touch Jake's arm. “I’ll have what she’s having.”

Jake gave me a quick look before he moved to gather the things he needed. “Something you needed, Olive?”

“I just wanted to sit with you.” She hummed. “It feels different than I thought it would.”

“I didn’t know sitting with someone was supposed to make you feel things.”

Olive examined her nails and shrugged. “I mean, you’re kind of a legend. Your mother raves about how talented you are.”

I took a long drink. “That doesn’t sound like her.”

“She also talks at length about your laziness and poor attitude.”

“That sounds right.”

Olive’s face turned sour. “She loves you so much.”

“She’s not capable of loving anyone but herself,” I told her coldly.

“You ungrateful bitch,” Olive sneered. “You constantly insult your mother with this… sad excuse of a life. You tarnish the name of a man that gave you everything. It’s like you don’t understand how fucking lucky you are!”

My jaw clenched as the fire in my lungs grew uncontainable. I turned my head with a humorless laugh, ignoring Isaac’s desperate attempts to get my attention from across the bar. “Lucky? Is that what you think I am?”

Olive didn’t back down, something I might’ve respected if she’d not touched every last nerve. “I know that’s what you are.”

“Luck didn’t teach me to play the piano. I spent hours playing keys until my fingers bled. Luck didn’t magically make me memorize her dance moves. I stayed up for four days straight practicing until I had to peel off my fucking toenails.” I stood, towering over her, anger and pain, and everything I’d shoved so deep down inside me came pouring to the surface. “Luck didn’t keep me from drowning in the damn ocean. I did. And luck sure as fucking hell didn’t drag me half a block through the goddamn snow while I was bleeding out! I DID!” Everyone around us was perfectly still and silent. It felt like time had frozen for a split second, but I knew it didn’t. “You want her to love you? You want to be me so bad? Then why don’t you find a piano to play or wear a pair of those shoes you look at every day and dance? You want my life? Fucking take it!”

Her wide eyes watched me, shocked and slightly scared, but deep in them, a satisfied fascination gleamed. I shook my head and turned away from her, walking past the long line of staring faces until I practically threw myself out the back alley door. My heart beat wildly in my ears, filling me with the severe shortness of breath that made everything too much. I had to go. I had to get the hell out of here. The cold air bit my skin. The only relief from the burning that had consumed me.

I wanted not to feel this anymore. I wanted to feel nothing at all. With shaking hands, I pulled my phone out and quickly dialed the number I knew by heart. “Hey, it’s me. I need you.”

Jake had followed Lena after she stormed off. He’d called her name, but she didn’t hear him… or just chose not to respond. Fuck! He cursed himself. The group gossiped among themselves about the outburst of their beloved Tiger, but none of them knew what the fuck they were really talking about. His eyes were glued to Olive’s ugly dyed head where she sat next to Simone, whose lack of surprise at Olive’s true identity made his stomach churn. There were several moments where he had to bite his tongue when one of their friends said some hair-brained theory about Lena. He wouldn’t tell them anything, no matter how wild their theories got. He wasn’t going to betray her trust like that. Especially not while she was dealing with all this.

Olive departed without another word to anyone save the confident wink she sent his way. When Simone rose from her seat and quietly made her way to the locker room and for some reason, he couldn’t stop himself from following after her. “How did you know her mom?”

She turned and looked back at him, the expression on her face slightly exasperated but soft. “Jennifer Glover reached out to me a few months ago. She was worried about her daughter and asked me to keep an eye on her.”

“So you and Olive set this whole thing up?”

“Jake,” Simone cooed. “I was just trying to help. She’s been… stressed lately, and I thought-”

“You thought the woman that abused and neglected her would make that better somehow?”

Simone’s face hardened for a moment as she took in the new information. “I didn’t know about that. I swear. I thought you, of all people, would understand my intentions. There’s something about a mother's comfort that seems to solve a lot of problems. I thought it would apply here.”

Jake breathed out his anger and shook his head. “I do understand… I’m sorry. I’m just…”

“Worried,” she finished for him. “You care for her.”

“Simone-”

Holding up her hand, she shook her head with a smile, pressing it to his chest. “You don’t need to explain it to me, Jake. I know you. And if she’s… important to you, then I’ll do my best to get along with her.”

Relief filled Jake’s chest as he leaned into her touch. “Thank you.”

“Try not to worry too much about her,” she advised. “Lena is a very independent girl. I’m sure she’ll be alright.”

Jake should have found comfort in her words, but he didn’t, couldn’t, not when he knew what Lena was feeling. Simone and the others left, and after Jake helped Nicky close things down, he set out for the one place he knew Lena would go to if she was still in the city. The others were already at Ozzy’s when he arrived, dancing and drinking and doing the things they always did. But, to his relief, Lena stood next to a table of her friends and family, wearing a crop top and short skirt with glitter in her hair.

He approached with an audible sigh of relief as she turned and smiled widely at him. “Jake!”

Lena stumbled toward him, a wave of alcohol sweeping over him and burning his nose as she pulled herself into his arms and tangled her hands in his hair, pulling him into a deep kiss. He could taste the rum on her tongue, mingling with several shots of fireball. When she pulled away and sagged against him, he shook his head. “Are you wasted right now?”

“No!” She snorted, nearly tipping them both over as her body swayed. Her eyes caught Sasha in the crowd, and just as suddenly as she’d come, she was gone.

Jake sat in the booth beside Quinn, who tipped her cup to him. “Welcome to babysitting duty!”

“How much has she had to drink?”

“Ask asshat,” Peter grumbled, looking at Patrick.

Patrick rolled his eyes and took a drink of his beer. “She calls I get her drunk. That’s the deal. It keeps her from relapsing, so I don’t see the big issue.”

Peter shook his head and pointed to the dance floor, where Lena moved with the crowd. “She’s not gonna let us take her home tonight. You know how she gets when she drinks this much.”

“I know,” Patrick nodded to Jake. “But now that he’s here, I doubt it’ll be an issue.”

Quinn laughed. “I mean, dick is one of drunk Lena’s main motivators. And since it’s attached to her dear sweet Jakey, it should be foolproof.”

“See,” Patrick replied, grinning at his brother. “Nothin' to worry about.”

Peter sighed. “Quinn, bathroom.”

“On it!” The stripper jumped on top of the table, hopping clean over him to rush to Lena’s side and drag her toward the bathrooms with Prue joining in to help.

Jake watched them for a minute before turning to the two brothers. “So I’m some kind of distraction?”

Peter leaned forward. “Our sister has very strict moods when it comes to this level of drinking.”

“The first, as you probably coulda guessed, is she gets real touchy.” Patrick winked at him.

“Then she gets overly honest. And from there she’s a ball of energy looking for a fight.”

“Or a fuck.”

Jake nodded, eyes narrowing. “So, I’m supposed to what?”

Peter regarded Jake with a look, one similar to the one he’d given him months ago with the threat. “You convince her to go home. Nothing else.”

“And what if she presses for more than a quick drop off?”

“Watch a movie with her, play a board game, I don’t care just be respectful.”

The warning, though one he knew was Peter’s way of showing love for his sister, stung. Patrick nudged the bald man. “Oi, Jake ain’t some criminal. He’ll take care of her.”

Quinn and Prue led Lena back to their table, letting her flop down beside Jake before shooing the boys to make room. The redhead looked up at him with a weak smile. “I threw up.”

He chuckled and brushed her hair out of her face. “I bet. Maybe we should take it easy for a minute.”

“That sounds boring.”

“Boring can be fun sometimes.”

Her eyes narrowed. “That doesn’t sound right.”

Ozzy walked to their table with a kind nod and a plate of drinks. “Good ta see ya Jake. Was wonderin when you’d find your way here after this one showed up.”

“Yeah, she’s quick.”

Ozzy set a small shot glass down in front of her. “Oooh, what’s this one?”

“Water,” he replied.

“Eww,” Lena whined.

Giving her a stern but loving look, Ozzy pointed. “Drink it, or I’ll have one of the idiot's spoon feed it to you.”

She stuck her tongue out at him but lifted the glass of water to her lips and downed the liquid quickly. “Happy?”

The older man ruffled her hair with his large hand. “Yes, I am, you stubborn girl.”

As the night dragged on Jake saw what the others had meant about Lena’s drunken moods. She touched him every chance she got, leaning on him, hugging him, kissing him. Jake did his best to keep her from doing something she’d likely regret, but as he’d been warned she was difficult to reason with. When the brutal honesty started coming into play the others quickly vacated the area, not wanting to be given unsolicited advice on their deepest and most troubling issues. Luckly for him she seemed more focused on laying across his lap than she was unearthing all his issues.

The biker leader walked through the door and Lena jumped from the booth, tackling him in a big hug. “DOM!”

Jake noted that the only times he’d seen the cold drug dealer smile was with Lena and conflicted feelings rose in his chest. Dom walked her back to the booth and sat down next to her, feeling her forehead and checking her eyes. “Just drinks tonight?”

“Yep.” She over pronounced the P with a giggle. “I really wanted to call you though. You’re more fun.”

He chuckled. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t. I’ve got shit to do tonight.”

Lena pouted. “Awwww you’re not gonna babysit me?”

“Maybe I’ll drop by later and check up on ya.” Dom offered.

“That’s good enough I guess.”

Dom met Jake’s eyes over the table. “You in charge of her tonight?”

He shrugged, looking around to Prue and Will dancing and Quinn and Ari at the bar. “Looks like it.”

He nodded. “Get her home safe, tough guy.”

After another hour dancing with her, Jake finally managed to coax Lean out the door and toward her house. They greeted the bikers, whose numbers had seemingly grown, bringing a tense feeling to his gut. Once Lena opened her door she was on him. Soft hands caressing his cheeks and pulling his hair while her addictive mouth kissed and nipped at his lips and neck. Jake felt lightheaded as he chased her lips, wanting nothing more than to keep kissing her, but knowing that he couldn’t.

She was surprisingly strong as she manuvered them toward her bedroom door, pulling him from his own selfish desires and back into the moment. Holding her shoulders and pushing her away slightly he huffed. “Wait.”

“What?” She whined, trying to pull him closer. “Don’t you want to?’

Yes. Jake ground his teeth together. “No, not like this.”

Everything shifted as her lower lip wobbled. "Am I horrible?" She asked him, tears shining in her eyes. "Why does no one want me?"

Her words… The hoarse, near-sobbing sound of her voice felt like a slap to the face. There was no way she actually thought he or anyone didn't want her. She was everything… Perfect in ways he couldn't even explain. But her face said it all. Lena looked exactly how she had when he pulled her out of the water that night in The Cape. She looked like a lost and scared girl, searching for the love and acceptance of a mother capable of neither. At that moment, he saw every ounce of pain and insecurity she'd carried with her just as real as her scars.

He carefully took her face in his hands and sighed. "That's not why…" God damn it. Jake pressed his body into hers, chasing the now fleeting feeling of her warmth. "I do want you, Lena. God, I want you." His thumbs wiped away the tears that slid down her cheeks. "I want you sober. I want you to remember everything we say and do… and I want you not to regret any of it after."

She grabbed at his clothes, eyes filled with that brave or stupid drunken gleam of truth. "I've never wanted anyone the way I want you." Her hands were so soft and warm against his skin as she molded herself into him, pressing her lips to his. "I wouldn't regret you, Jake… I couldn't."

He wanted to give in to her. Wanted to finally know what being with her without their stupid rules, barriers, and games would be like. But above all that desire, Jake couldn't shake the familiar feeling of nausea that settled in his gut. At that moment, he felt like he had all those nights with Simone. He felt like a tool there only to alleviate her hurt… He felt like she was using him.

Jake's grip on her tightened slightly as he gently put some space between them. "It doesn't feel right. I don't… I don't want you to use me to distract yourself."

She seemed to sober up in an instant, pulling herself away from him. Jake prepared for the angry shouts and the hideous words to fly at him. His whole body tensed in preparation, only to be met with her tender voice, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to feel…" Lena shook her head and wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry, Jake. I shouldn't have put my shitty issues on you. That wasn't fair of me."

"You're not mad?" He asked, now on the verge of tears of his own.

"No," she breathed, retaking a step toward him. "I'm not mad at you. I would never be mad at you for this." His heart pounded in his ears, the nervousness and nausea fading slowly. Then, sensing the shift, Lena stepped closer again. "Can I… Can I hug you?"

Jake said nothing, silently reaching out and wrapping his arms around her. At that moment, her hands settling against his back felt better than anything he'd ever felt during some one-night stand. She'd once told him sex wasn't everything… That intimacy and closeness could come from simple things. He hadn't believed her then, but now… Now he understood what she meant. With his face buried into her hair, he whispered, "Thank you."

After a minute or longer, she pulled back, wordlessly wiping the tears that had slipped through his burning eyes. "You can go home if you want to. I'll be alright on my own. Or, you can stay for a bit. Whatever you want."

"We could watch that movie you were telling me about," he offered, slightly unsure.

"I still can't believe you've never seen Ghostbusters." Lena smiled at him, and he knew this was real. She really didn't mind him refusing her advances. She didn't hold it against him. "I'm gonna go change if you want to start it. Should just be on the shelf."

"Okay," was all he could say as he dumbly watched her walk away, closing the bedroom door behind her.

It felt weird. The way the air had instantly lifted once he'd told her how he felt. Simone would have found a way to convince him. She would have suggested some wine or changed in front of him, knowing his resolve would falter seeing her. Simone would have been angry for weeks after. She would have called him a child. He shook his head, moving to put the movie in and settle on her couch next to the tiger stuffed animal he won for her. For once, it didn’t matter to him what Simone would have done. Now, all he focused on was what Lena did.

She joined him on the couch, reaching over to grab the stuffed tiger and cuddle into him as the movie started. “I like this movie much better than the one you picked.”

Jake watched her more than he did the screen. “I do too.”

Once she’d drifted to sleep on his lap, Jake picked her up and carried her to her room. She sleepily snuggled the tiger under the covers and looked up at him, lifted her head to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Goodnight, Jake.”

His whole face tingled. “Goodnight, Lena.”

The hangover I had the next morning was brutal, but it beat waking up in some stinking drug den so I didn’t complain. Prue and Quinn gave me the quick rundown of the night after my memory started to blur. “Did Jake take me home?”

“Yeah, he was so sweet.”

“Why?”

I remembered him in my apartment, our kissing and the way my body had burned for him, but above all that I remembered the way he’d stopped things before they got out of hand and the vunerable moments that followed. “No reason.”

The Ring was empty when I got there, but the sound of chains rattling drew me to the small practice ring, where Peter tiredly swung at the bag in the corner until he stumbled and had to lower himself to the mat. I greeted the small hairless cat before moving to join him. “You’re getting stronger.”

“Slowly.”

Taking hold of his hand I smiled. “Rome wasn’t built in a day, big brother.”

He closed his eyes, steadying his breathing. “I know.”

“Did you see her?” I asked him with a sad look.

“No.” Peter sighed. “She showed up and hung around for an hour, but I didn’t… I don’t have anything left to say to her.”

I squeezed his hand tighter. "Probably for the best. I know what she does to you."

Peter turned his head, looking down at me from where he lay. "How are you holding up?"

"Poorly," I answered honestly. "I don't think I've ever wanted to get high more than I do right now."

"No one would think less of you if you did." My brother's face was filled with understanding.

"I would."

He nodded, bumping his forehead to mine. "Whatever you need, I'm here."

Clenching my jaw, I sighed. "Will you come to work with me? I don't know if she'll show up, but… I…"

"I get it." Carefully he sat up. "Let me go get dressed into something nicer."

"For the love of god, don't put that suit back on!"

True to his word Peter came down in a nice blazer and simple dress pants, both of which thankfully fit him. He happily joined me through my shift, chatting with Nicky and Jake at the bar while I ran food to the dining room. Our mom didn’t show and by the time ten oclock came around we both knew she wasn’t going to. But, just when I’d begun to relax… to let my guard down the stiff sound of a cane dragging along the floor caught my attention.

“Bonjour, Précieuse.” He sounded so different from how I’d remembered. Older… sad.

I turned, abandoning the kitchen doors I’d been standing in front of to look at him. He looked the same as he had when I saw him at the theatre, but tonight was different… Heavier. “François… I didn’t… I…”

His lips thinned into a tight line. “Oui, I know you were not expecting to see me again. However, I could not help myself.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I wish to speak with you.”

Convincing Tony to let me visit François in the hospital had been surprisngly easy, something that had put me on edge, but I’d assumed that after last night… after he got what he wanted he’d calmed down. With a modest bouquet of lilies and lavender I approached his door, quietly knocking before I entered. “François?”

The golden haired boy weakly turned his head to look at me, eyes red and puffy. “What are you doing here?”

I walked toward him, moving slower, stiff and sore, my body still recovering from last night. I sat in the empty seat beside him with a wince, carefully adjusting until the pain was mostly bearable. “I wanted to check in… make sure you’re okay.”

“Okay?” He spat. “Look at me… Why would I be okay?”

“I-”

“You left me there.” His eyes filled with tears as he grabbed the flowers from my hand and threw them across the room. I flinched. “YOU LEFT ME THERE!”

Tears filled my eyes as I shook, holding onto my arms tightly. “I didn’t have a choice…”

François shook his head and whined. “The doctors say the damage done to my knee is severe. They say I will never dance again.”

“I’m…” I wiped the tears from my cheeks. “I’m so sorry, François. I… What can I do?”

“Leave.”

“What?” Hurt filled my lungs as I looked at him, the boy who once held nothing but joy and life and love in his eyes. Now those eyes were filled with pain and hatred.

“Leave. And do not come back.”

“François,” I whispered. “Please… I…”

He turned his head away from me, crying softly. “I do not want to see you ever again Lena Glover.”

I didn’t remember standing, or getting on the elevator with Tony’s men, but as we rode down everything became clear. There are worse things than dying.

Jake wiped the bar down slowly, his eyes fixed on the red hair that glowed beneath the dining room lights for a long minute before they shifted to the face of the man across from her. He looked sad, Jake noted. He looked like a pain deeper than eyes could see haunted his every waking moment, a feeling Jake knew too well. He’d noticed how hesitant Lena had been agreeing to sit down with him, and now he was determined to make sure she felt safe.

“Relax,” Peter told him from where he still sat at the bar. “François is one of the good ones.”

Shaking his head he moved his rag slightly. “She didn’t seem too excited to see him.”

Peter nodded, looking down at the water in his glass. “There’s a lot of pain there. A lot that’s been left unsaid for too long.”

“Who is he?”

“A dancer,” Peter replied. “She always spoke of him fondly so I assume they had somewhat of a blooming romance.”

“What happened between them?”

The brothers face furrowed. “That’s not my story to share. Just… let her have this, Jake. She deserves the closure.” He stood, putting his blazer back on. “Tell her I went home and to call if she needs me.”

Jake turned his eyes back to their table, watching closely for any sign of distress. “I will.”

“You look good,” I told him, stiffly sitting in the chair across from him.

“As do you,” he replied.

The awkward silence was killing me slowly. “Why did you come here?”

François sighed. “I’ve wanted to see you for a long time, but I never had the courage to… not after…”

I cast my eyes downward. “I understand.”

“No,” he whispered. “You do not. I never should have blamed you for what happened.”

“It was my fault.”

“It wasn’t,” he insisted. “The man behind the gun is the one to blame for what happened, Lena. I was… I was angry. In one night my life had changed so drastically. I thought without dancing… that I was nothing.” He sighed. “And I took that fear out on you.”

You deserved it. “I’m sorry, for all of it.”

“As am I.” He smiled. “Will you… dance with me?”

“What?”

He gestured to the empty space of the dining room. “I cannot move the way I once did, but I would like to have one last dance with you.”

“I would… Like that.” I stood, helping him from his seat and holding him closely as we swayed gently from one side to the other. It was hardly dancing, but with his knee it was the best either of us could do.

His shining eyes bore down into mine, filled with regret and a still shimmgering ember of fondness. François tucked my hair behind my ear. “I forgot how magnificent you were.”

Shaking my head I disagreed. “I’m average.”

“You have never been average Lena, not for one moment.” François held my face with one hand, stroking my cheek as tears began to build in my eyes. “I think… if things had been different you would have been the love of my life.”

“You would have been mine too,” I admitted softly. “You were the only one that ever… You were too good for me.”

He chuckled. “Impossible, Précieuse.”

I chuckled, resting my head against his chest. “I missed that laugh.”

“As I missed yours.”

We danced until his knee couldn’t handle the strain any longer, left standing in each others arms… both not wanting to say goodbye but both knowing we had to. “I hope you find a new purpose, François. One that brings you the joy ballet did.”

“I hope this for you as well. Now, one last kiss before we part ways?”

All I could do was nod and let him pull me into him. His warm lips pressed gently to mine, a simple and modest kiss shared between a thirteen year old girl and the fourteen year old boy she’d fallen for. It was the perfect farewell. “Goodbye, Prince Ivan.”

He smiled, tears building in his eyes as he stroked my cheek. “Au revoir, mon précieux oiseau de feu.”

I locked the front door behind him, relieved knowing that everyone else had already gone home and that no one would see me like this. Slowly making my way to the stairs, intending to get my things and go home I found myself heaving instead. I collapsed onto the steps, holding my hand over my mouth in some miserable attempt to keep in the sobs bursting from my throat. My hands trembled as I tried to find something to ground myself… to escape this cold and mournful feeling. Then, someone cleared their throat at the top of the stairs, startling me.

Jake leaned against the railing, holding a cigarette in one hand and a lighter in the other. I quickly wiped my eyes and stood up. “Sorry. I… I thought everyone went home.”

“I figured you could use a smoke,” he said softly.

With a wobbling voice, I answered, “That… sounds nice.”

He descended the stairs and sat down, waiting for me to join him on the step before he lit the cigarette and took a few puffs of the smoke before offering it to me. With slightly shaking hands, I took it, enjoying the slight burn that filled my lungs. "So it's for him, the tattoo?" Jake asked, sounding slightly on edge.

“No… Not entirely…” I sighed. "It's more of a reminder," I told him, trying to focus on anything but the pain that simmered beneath my skin.

"A reminder of what?"

"That there are worse things than dying."

Jake watched me for a moment before he took the cigarette back. “So you two were like a couple or what?”

What could I say that would tell him of the beauty and horrors of my summer romance with François? What words would be enough to capture the way it felt to be truly loved by someone only to have it all torn away? I shrugged. “He was my first love. Or at least, I like to see it that way.” I smiled, the rush of fond memories filling me with a moment of happiness. “We were dance partners back when I was still with my mom. I was thirteen, and he was fifteen. It… It wasn’t much of a relationship. I mean, we only really had one summer with each other before…” I swallowed a hard lump as that happiness was replaced with blood and screaming. "Don't leave me.”

“He doesn’t really seem like your type,” Jake noted, the steady timber of his voice gently coaxing me out of the pained memories. “No offense.”

“None taken,” I told him with a sigh. “He was beautiful, funny and fearless and… everything I wanted to be. But, François… He was the first person that thought I was more than some porcelain doll. He was the first person that actually saw me.”

I could see his head tilt to the side from the corner of my eye. “Sounds like a decent guy.”

I nodded. “He was. François was just good and so charming and… It always reminded me of Peter. That way, he just beautifully moved through the world like it was all so amazing.”

A beat passed of us exchanging the cigarette before Jake finally asked, “What happened? Between you and him.”

“I fucked it up. Like always.” Tears streamed down my cheeks as I shook my head, scoffing. “It was so stupid… thinking I could ever have something like that. Something good." I forced myself to breathe as the words just flowed. “It was all my fault. He… He lost everything he loved, all that goodness and that fearlessness, because of me.”

“That’s not true,” Jake said. “I don’t know him… or what happened… but I know you, Lena. Whatever it was, it wasn’t your fault.”

I closed my eyes and shook my head, wiping my tears away with the back of my sleeve and trying to reign in the pain. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does.” He gently lifted my face, turning it to meet his calm blue eyes. “What you feel matters.” With a shuddering breath, I fell into his arms, clutching onto him for dear life as he held me. “It’s okay.”

I sobbed into his skin, holding onto him like he was the only thing keeping me from drowning… like by some miracle, this proximity to him would keep all the horrible dark things lurking around the corner from me. My mother wasn’t going to let this one visit be the last. Olive was on a warpath to prove I was the ungrateful child she believed me to be… to take everything I’d worked for. Tony was… My hands curled in Jake’s shirt, trying not to think about what Tony would do to him if… when he finally came out of the shadows for me.

My voice was little more than a pathetic whimper of his name. “Jake…”

“I’ve got you,” he said, pressing his lips to my temple. “I’ve got you, Lena.”

Leave. I wanted to say… wanted to warn him. You’re selfish for keeping him here. For putting him in danger because of some childish fantasy that he could ever want you. I closed my eyes tighter, the voice in my head a mix of my own and Tony’s. “Jake…” I pushed myself away from his chest and looked into his eyes. Leave me. He watched me, gently brushing the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs as he held my face in his hands. “I…” Tell. Him. To. Go. “I’m scared…”

His eyes were unbearably soft as he nodded, jaw clenching for a second before he said, “Of what?"

Of falling back into my old habits. Of disappointing everyone I love. Of losing you. Of what is worse than dying. There were so many words I could have said, but all I could do was shrug and shake. "It just feels like something bad is going to happen, and I…" I won't survive it if he hurts you… "I can't do it again."

"Nothing bad’s gonna happen." He shook his head and sadly smiled at me. "Not while I’m here. Not while I’ve got you.”

“Jake-”

“Do you trust me?” He asked.

Breathing out a shaking breath, I let his warmth comfort me as I nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

Jake’s smile eased the pain, but the way he pulled me back into him, holding me like I was important, made everything start to fade away. “Come here, princess.”

“Thank you,” I whispered as his hands rubbed soothingly down my arms. “For everything.”

“What are friends for?” He replied with a chuckle.

Friends. For the first time since I’d met him… since our flirtatious relationship had shifted to something casually sexual with lingering kisses and blowjobs and fingering the word didn’t feel like enough. It felt like a lie, one I’d been able to cling to before, but now there was a word, a feeling that sparked in my chest like a freshly lit ember. A feeling I’d have to ignore, but I knew some way, somehow, it wasn’t going to go away.

Howard walked home in the dark, alone. Simone had stopped asking him to join her after Tess had tried to leverage herself into a higher position by sleeping with him. An indulgence he both regretted and did not. So, in the chilled autumn air, he walked alone with his thoughts, which, as of late, had been plagued with a pebble lodged in his shoe for too long. The one with dark hair and an attitude that made him want to scream.

Jake had always been a problem. The way he interacted with guests was childish and sloppy; one wrong word spoken was always enough to set him off into some tantrum. He’d wanted to be done with him years ago, but Simone - the thorned rose that, while brutal and a pain to deal with, brought something to the restaurant he knew he needed - had insisted. The two were a package deal, she’d said. Never one without the other. Yet, to him, it seemed they were further away from each other than they’d ever been. The young man's focus had shifted to a place Howard had been worried about since Lena Harrow walked into his office all those months ago.

Their attraction to one another was expected. The bartender was handsome and young, charismatic when he wanted to be. But what he thought would be a quick fling or nothing at all had been dragged out in some painful dance. He worried for the lively and spirited girl he’d watched blossom despite the weight placed on her delicate shoulders.

Lena was beautiful, talented, and held so much spirit. She reminded Howard of his late wife when she was younger. The two shared many traits, but… if Howard were truly honest with himself, the roles were reversed. It was his wife that reminded him of Lena. It was one of the reasons he’d married her. He loved her with all he had, but those urges… the undeniable attraction he’d harbored for the would-be Glover as she worked tirelessly by her aunt's side had always been there.

A red and white car parked outside his house made him pause, and a wave of unease made his gut tighten as he cautiously approached his front door, only to find it ajar. Howard breathed in and entered, unwilling to be bullied from his own home. “Hello?”

“Howard.” The sound of liquor swishing in one of his crystal glasses echoed as expensive cigar smoke stung his nose. “I let myself in. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” He walked forward, ignoring the larger men in the room with them. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Anthony?”

“You remember a favor I once did for you?” The young, well-dressed man asked with a sparkling grin that never reached his dead eyes. “Well, it’s time to pay up.”

The sounds from his TV made Howard’s gut drop. Shame and guilt and something darker warring within him. “What do you want?”

Anthony laughed, deranged and dangerous. “Come now, Howard. Let’s not pretend you don’t already know.”

“I can’t…”

He held up a single finger. “Don’t. Don’t say another fucking word.”

“Anthony…”

“Debts must be paid. You can either pay it in action or in flesh.” The men standing in the room closed in, towering over the simple manager with… questionable morals. The TV grew louder, and Howard’s heart hammered in his chest as Tony rose from his couch and walked toward him with a blade gleaming in the light. “Which will it be, Howard?"

"I-"

"Action or flesh?"

36 notes · View notes

threeletterslife · 2 years ago

Text

23 | Legends of Darlaria

⨰ summary: You wake up amidst a war with no recollection of your past. Faced with suspicion and distrust, you struggle to assimilate into a foreign nation—otherwise known as your home. But on your enlightening journey to search for your identity, you come face to face with the General of the Army.

⨰ pairing/rating: yoongi x reader & jungkook x reader | PG-15

⨰ genre: 70% angst, 30% fluff | war!au & magic!au

⨰ warnings: profanity, mentions of blood, gore, suicide and death

⨰ wordcount: 5.7k

⨰ join the taglist! (pm/send in an ask/reply/reblog)

⨰ previous | series m.list | next

⧖⧗Circa Alexandrite⧗⧖

“What happened?!” you shriek, barging into the General’s tent, tears already blurring your vision. From the haze, you still manage to make out a cot in the middle. What you can’t make out is the person on the cot, for there seems to be a thick wall of healers surrounding it, tending to a single man who makes no indication that he is okay.

It’s also eerily silent.

Your voice becomes so painfully loud in comparison. “Is he alive?” Your words seem to echo across the tent, bouncing against the red walls. Several healers grimace.

“Please, sir, you need to leave.”

Leave? How in the hell are they asking you to leave? Without even knowing if he’ll make it? “Please tell me what happened,” you say, voice aquiver. “Was it a transformation spell?? Have you stopped it?”

“Y/N!” Suhyun suddenly rushes into the tent, grabbing one of your arms while Jaeno seizes the other. “I’m so sorry,” she apologizes to the healers. “We tried to stop her.” She turns to you, a grave look on her face. “You need to listen to me, Y/N,” she says. “Let the healers deal with whatever they have to deal with in peace. The last thing we want is for the soldiers to panic. We’ve already detained Soldier Baek and Soldier Kim to stop the spread of information. We don’t want any rumors. He’s the last of the Min Clan, do you hear me, Y/N? And if… if worse comes to worst, you need to hold yourself together. Please. Get your fucking shit together!”

“Suhyun…”

She’s never spoken so harshly to you before.

“I-I just want to… I want to see him. I—”

Even Suhyun looks close to tears. She shakes her head. “They’re going to heal him,” she whispers. But it sounds like she’s trying to convince herself as well as you, and it’s not quite working on both ends. She turns to her boyfriend, her lips trembling. “Jaeno. I-I’m… I’m not ready. I don’t think I can do it. If he dies, I—”

“O-Off… icer,” a ghastly voice whispers.

That’s you.

He’s calling you.

All too soon, you’re forcing yourself away from Suhyun and Jaeno’s grasps and running towards the cot where he rests. All eyes are on you, but for the first time, you don’t care at all. And when you manage to push through the circle of healers, you finally see him.

The sight is grisly.

He’s been stripped of the upper half of his uniform, only in his white tank top drenched in so much sweat that it does little to hide the gruesome bruises and scars littered all across his torso. His face is pale and streaked with blood and dirt, and his wet hair clings to his forehead. His eyes are open yet so empty, so void.

Your stomach drops.

You’ve seen this look on the injured in the medical tent. The look of death.

The culprit is the pool of viscous red oozing out of his right shoulder.

It sizzles. It crackles. And it burns.

It can’t possibly be blood. Blood doesn’t do that.

Your skin turns icy cold when you realize what it really is.

Lava. It’s lava.

But why? Why him? Why now?

You want to sink to your knees. Yet you can’t. Not with him in front of you. If anything, you need to be there for him. Because he’s undeniably in a worse state than you are. He’s probably convinced that death will soon come knocking at his door. He might be scared. Or even terrified. Or maybe he’s welcoming death with open arms as he said he would nearly two years ago. You’re not sure.

But you selfishly want him to hang on. You want him alive. There are so many things you haven’t been able to tell him, so many feelings to face, so many emotions to accept…

“I-I’m here, sir,” you whisper. You hate that you stuttered, and you hate the way he stares at the ceiling with those empty, glassy eyes of his.

His lips twitch momentarily. “It…” he breathes, “it doesn’t… h-hurt much anymore.”

That can only mean the heat has already damaged his nerves.

It breaks you, seeing him like this. You want to grab onto his hand, sweep his hair out of his face, hug him, lava on his shoulder or not—but it’s all nothing more than a pipe dream.

“O-Officer,” he murmurs in his husky voice. Though he’s calling you, he feels so far away—as if he’s calling for you in his dreams again. As if he’s already drifting off to be with the spirits. When he slowly blinks, a rogue tear rolls down the side of his face. “D-Don’t worry… I’m… f-fine.”

Something inside of you snaps.

All of your fear, anxiety and emotions seem to vanish into thin air—replaced by sheer determination. You grit your teeth. Even on his deathbed, he wants to protect you, make sure you’re not worried. But you won’t let him die. You can’t. There are too many unresolved duties, questions, feelings.

You whirl around to face the healers who have been wordlessly extracting the seemingly endless stream of lava coming from the General’s shoulder. “How long has it been?”

“Thirty minutes, sir,” one of the healers says.

“He was hit in the shoulder by one of the transformation spheres while in battle,” another healer says. “They rushed him back as soon as it happened. As soon as they realized it was serious.”

“We’ve been extracting the lava with fire wielding, but it won’t stop.”

“It’s spreading, too, sir. Slowly, but steadily. He hasn’t gone into shock yet, but he’s lost feeling in his shoulder… It’s not looking great.”

“Thirty minutes…” you echo. “Thirty minutes,” you say again as you glance at the General once more. “The lava should’ve overtaken more than half of his body by now. Their transformation magic is usually much faster than this.”

“Y-Yes, sir, the spread is much slower than what we usually see, but it’s persistent. We’ve never been able to save a soldier once they’ve been hit by transformation magic.”

“Are you saying it’s a lost cause?” you ask in the most even-toned voice you can muster up. Behind you, Suhyun lets out a wail, followed by Jaeno attempting to solace her.

It’s silent.

Everybody is scared to answer your question. They all look down at their feet.

“No,” you say, shaking your head. You can’t just let him die. Not after you declared that you’d follow him until you died. Not after you told him that you don’t want to lose him too. Words leave your mouth in desperation: “Have we thought about amputating?”

“T-That never works, sir… The transformation spell still spreads throughout the rest of the body.”

Shit. Is it really a lost cause? It can’t possibly be. Your mind races as you scavenge for another solution—any solution. Something has to work. Something has the potential to save his life. You glance at him. His breaths are growing more and more rapid and he seems to be dipping in and out of consciousness. Yet his eyes are wide open. They’re staring into you too, but you can’t discern a meaning behind them at all. They’re empty. Soulless. Your heart clenches in a pain you’ve only ever felt one other time—when Doyun passed. But this is different. You can prevent this. You’ve still got time.

“There should be a reason that this transformation spell is reacting slower than the others,” you say. “He should be dead by now if this had been a normal spell. We need to examine where the sphere hit him. There’s a high possibility that he was hit by a faulty spell, so we should be looking for some sort of evidence. It’s not a lost cause until he’s pronounced dead.”

“Yes, sir!”

The healers spring into action. Several of them hold down the General’s body as the others who are capable of fire wielding begin extracting the lava from his shoulder. The General makes no noise. He barely even blinks.

“His blood pressure’s dropping!”

“Get him some more oxygen!”

“H-His lips are turning blue!”

“Someone get him a blanket!”

“He’s hyperventilating!”

“He could be going into shock soon—”

“W-Wait! Wait! There’s something there!”

Your heart leaps.

“T-There! That glistening thing!”

You’re immediately by the sharp-eyed healer’s side. “Can we extract it? Is it safe to touch?”

“We have some air mediums, sir. We’ll get on it right away.”

You watch, barely even blinking as the healers begin the arduous process of dislodging the mysterious fragment in the General’s shoulder. The first few tries are a failure—only because the fragment periodically spurts out lava. When the healers are able to time their extraction—in the short, two-minute interval the fragment of the sphere has before it spews lava—the mission finally succeeds.

The tiny sphere—or what’s left of it—falls to the floor, where it spurts out some more hot lava. The ground sizzles. There’s a short moment of silence where everybody takes in the miracle. Then:

“He’s going into shock!” a healer yells.

“Is he conscious?”

“Sir? Sir!”

“Negative! Someone get him ready for a blood transfusion!”

“Why in Soo’s name are you just standing there? Get moving!”

You don’t understand much of what is going on, but you stay the entire while. Even when the healers have left—encapsulating the lava-spewing fragment in a water bubble and taking it with them—you stay in the tent. You’re not sure what time it is now. You’ve lost track ever since you walked in. In fact, you’ve lost track of everything since the moment you received the news of his injury.

All that matters now is that the General is alive and breathing. He’s unconscious at the moment, but you’ve volunteered to watch over him until he wakes up. They’re not sure when.

You hope that it’s soon. Because each second that he stays in that position, covered up in bandages and blankets, you think he’s a second closer to death. It won’t matter how long he stays unconscious, however. Because you swear to every spirit in existence that you won’t leave his side until he wakes up.

“She’s been in there for three days,” Suhyun sighs. She nervously plays with her rings, twisting them back and forth around her fingers. “She hasn’t eaten a thing.”

“She’s always been close to the General,” Wonmi says.

“She has?”

“Yes,” the third sector captain insists.

“Is that so?” Suhyun frowns. “But what she’s doing… That’s what I would do for Jaeno. That’s what Ohsung’s done for you, Wonmi.”

“I never said anything about it being not platonic,” Wonmi answers.

Suhyun stares at Wonmi in disbelief.

“It’s only a hunch,” Wonmi says while casually fixing her bangs. “And besides, officer romance is the least of our problems. Y/N’s reported that he woke several times now, but he never notices that she’s there. He talks, though. Just not to her.”

“I don’t know how we’re going to tell the soldiers,” Suhyun says. She fiddles with her rings, looking down at her feet. “I don’t want to give anyone false hope. If… If he dies, Wonmi, I’ll be his natural successor.”

“Good for you, then.”

“No, Wonmi, it won’t be good for me. I’ve always dreamed about being the General of the Solarian Army, but now that it’s so close to me… I can’t. I don’t want it like this. It’s too soon. I can’t be as great as he was.”

“You’re talking about him as if he’s already dead, Suhyun,” Wonmi snorts. “I think you’ll be a fine General. When it happens, it happens. You’ll be ready then. For now, we wait. Only time can tell if he’ll be all right.”

But time moves slowly when all she can do is wait.

Suhyun has to wait another six days before the General is able to form coherent sentences. He’s still far too weak to be up and walking around—she’s heard that he can barely sit up from his bed. When she finally finds enough courage inside of her to visit him in his tent, he welcomes her amiably, albeit weakly.

“Long time no see, Lieutenant Ki,” he croaks from his position on the cot.

“Sir,” she greets him back with a deep bow. “How are you feeling?”

“Light-headed,” he says. “Still can’t really feel my right shoulder. But I’m scheduled for physical therapy for the next three circas. Apparently, I’ve acquired fourth-degree burns—internal and external. No major organ damage, though. I was lucky.”

“You were more than lucky, General,” Suhyun says. “It was a miracle! We’ve been investigating the fragment of the sphere we extracted from your shoulder. Whoever cast the transformation spell only achieved a partial version of it. If the spell had been fully cast, we wouldn’t have been able to extract the sphere at all! It was a miracle that only an incomplete spell hit you—and so shallowly, too. And that Captain Ryu found out and was able to direct the healers so expertly.”

“Ah,” the General says. “Yes, Captain Ryu…”

“She was there for you when I couldn’t be,” Suhyun admits, lowering her head. “I’m sorry, General. I wasn’t thinking straight at the moment. I was too engrossed with the fact that I wasn’t ready to take your place… And clearly, judging by my reaction that night, I was right.”

“You handled it well, Lieteunant Ki,” the General says. “You give yourself too little credit. You ensured that the news of my injury did not get out prematurely. You ensured that no one panicked. No one knew what happened until I was okay. I think that’s a feat in itself.”

“General…”

“It was an unprecedented situation, Lieutenant Ki. Don’t be too hard on yourself… You will have to take on some of my responsibilities, however. I won’t be getting up anytime soon. It’ll be up to you to share my duties with the other officers. I trust you, Suhyun,” the General says. He clears his throat. “And I’m sorry. I know how worried you were. I know you don’t think you’re ready yet to take my place. But Lieutenant Ki, I believe that those who think they are not ready for higher positions are usually better-fitted than those who think they are.”

Suhyun can’t help but think that’s true. When she was younger, when she had too much ambition and nowhere to channel it but her pride, she was arrogant and uncompromising. She would’ve made a tyrant of a General—just like the current General’s brother and his mother, too. But she respects her General because he often doubts himself. Because he opens his ears to others. Yet he can be decisive when he must be, and he knows how to command an army without being unnecessarily swayed. She doesn’t think she’ll ever be as good as he is because her pride does often get in her way. But she’s working on it. And by the time the position comes to her, she hopes she will lead the army as great as the General has.

“Thank you, sir,” she says. “Thank you.”

He nods. “You’ll have to lead the officer meetings until I am well enough to get up, Lieutenant Ki. I trust that you can handle that.”

“Of course, sir. I’ll report back to you as soon as they finish.”

“Thank you,” he says.

There’s an awkward silence where she’s unsure whether she is allowed to leave without his dismissal, and he’s unsure what she’s waiting for if she looks like she has nothing else to say.

When you rush into the tent, carrying a clay tray filled with food, Incha and rolled-up wet cloths, you nearly drop it and its contents once you notice Suhyun. “O-Oh!” you exclaim, looking between her and the General nervously. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt something serious. I’ll come back later—”

“No,” the General says so quickly that Suhyun raises her eyebrows. “We were finished,” he says. “You may stay.” He nods to Suhyun. “Send my apologies to the officers for me.”

“Yes, General,” she says, and with a bow, she quickly dismisses herself from the General’s tent. She looks back as she walks away, cocking her head in curiosity. You didn’t even announce your arrival before you’d stepped into his tent. Even Suhyun’s never done that, and she’s supposedly his right-hand-officer. How close are the two of you, anyway? And for you to be taking care of him every day and not some healers…? But then again, he has historically refused private medical treatment, and even convincing him to be treated in his tent and not the common medical tents took some adamant persuading; so maybe you’re doing both of them a favor.

Regardless, Wonmi is definitely correct. There’s something there—between you and the General. But it’s also none of Suhyun’s business, and while she cares for the General, she has no say in his private matters. Yet… she can’t help but wonder… has his decision to keep you from fighting been completely personal this entire time?

“How have you been feeling, sir?” you ask as you set the tray down at the General’s desk and perch up upon it as well.

“I swear I had this same conversation just moments ago with Lieutenant Ki,” he says in such a serious voice that you worry that you’ve bored him already.

It takes you several embarrassing seconds to realize he’s joking. “O-Oh! Then I’d be happy to let you take the reins of the conversation, sir.”

“Why, thank you, Officer,” he says, a small smile already appearing on his lips. “I wasn’t able to, due to my delirious state before, but now that I am alive and recovering, I wanted to ask you: do you still wish to fight after having seen what they’ve done to me?”

He looks surprised that your initial reaction is to laugh. “Sir! Are you trying to use your injury to deter me from ever considering going out on the battlefield again?”

“Is it working, Officer?”

“Not in the slightest, sir,” you reply. “In fact, it has given me more reason to want to fight, for if you are hurt, we’ll need more people out there to make up for what you can do.”

He sighs, shaking his head. “Even after seeing me in my worst state—hallucinations and all—you still want to fight? You really are a fire medium; you know that?”

You nod fervently. “Nothing will make me change my mind.”

“I know how stubborn you can be,” the General says. He pauses just slightly but it’s enough for you to notice. “When… When I was dipping in and out of consciousness, I’m not sure when, I remember seeing you. I thought it was one of the hallucinations. I… I might have called for you, Officer.”

“Which time are you referring to, sir?” you ask.

His ears turn red as he stutters just a bit, “I-I was not aware that this happened more than once, Officer. I apologize if you were frightened by it in any way.”

“I wasn’t frightened, sir,” you say. “I was worried. You called for your sister before you called for me. And your brother, too. I figured you were seeing hallucinations and immediately tried to calm you down.”

Ah. So you’d seen it all.

Yoongi can’t quite exactly remember what he’d seen in those hallucinations, but he remembers burning. He remembers seeing his sister in front of him, taking her own life, lighting her entire body on fire. He didn’t realize until it was too late that he, too, was burning along with her.

He remembers thinking that he’d somehow been transported to Ara and somehow, it was now winter. He remembers seeing a hazy figure that resembled his brother, freezing to death in a snow blizzard with nothing to wear but his uniform. He remembers being cold, and he remembers shivering, but he can’t recall much further than that.

And then he remembers you. He always heard your voice first. When it was so unbearably hot, your voice had offered him the cool reprieve that he was so desperately seeking. When it was unbelievably cold, your voice had given him the warmth that he needed to survive. And every time, he remembers someone who looked like you gently brushing his hair out of his face. All this time he thought it was the wind—that his mind was just playing tricks on him. But he only realizes now that it really was you.

“Thank you,” is all he can say. “I realized I never got a chance to say it. You’ve been taking care of me after my operation, even though no one has required you to do so—you must be busier now, too, since my absence. It’s also thanks to you that I am alive today. I’m indebted to you, Officer. You’ve practically saved my life.”

For Sooht’s sake is it hard to control yourself when he says things like this so nonchalantly. It takes everything in your power to swallow down the flutters in your stomach and keep a straight face. “All I did was oversee a process I knew very little of, sir. I mustn’t take all of the credit. Lieutenant Ki worked incredibly hard behind the scenes to ensure that no soldier panicked at the news of your injury, and the healers were the ones who operated on you. Although I did play a part in your recovery, I wouldn’t be the only person you’d be indebted to.”

The General smiles. “I’ve already given those people my thanks, Officer. But they were only doing their duty, were they not? You needn’t stay with me for over a week, barely leaving the tent—being the first and last person I see every day… It’s pleasant, Officer, I don’t deny it, but this was never required of you. And even now,” he says, gazing over at the tray you’d set on his desk, “you bring me my meals and fresh washcloths. I don’t recall this being in your job description, Officer.”

Is he teasing you? There’s a definite lilt to his voice that points signs toward yes, but you can’t help but give a serious answer. “But sir, I did say that I could never lose you. And besides, every time a person tells me that they would do everything in their power to keep me alive, I must do the same, sir. So you don’t have to thank me. You would’ve done the same thing if you were in my place,” you say, though your hands begin to sweat at your own boldness.

The General raises his eyebrows. “You’re right, Officer,” he says. “I would’ve done the same.” He pauses. “But you make it sound like multiple people have told you that they, in fact, would do everything in their power to keep you alive. Is that true, Officer?”

Your eyes widen. “No, sir! I don’t think I could ever handle that. Even with you… I…”

“You…?”

“It’s selfish for me to say, but I was scared, sir. I was terrified. I didn’t think you’d make it out alive. I already lost Doyun—I-I… I didn’t want to lose you too. But I also know how stupid my thoughts were when you were probably facing terrors much more justifiable than mine.”

“It’s not selfish of you to feel emotions, Officer,” the General says. “I was never afraid of my own death, either, so you needn’t worry,” the General says. He suddenly shifts his position on his cot, his hair falling forward to cascade over his eyes. “What I was afraid of was you.”

“Me, sir?” you ask, astonished.

“You are kind-hearted, Officer, no matter how humble you are about it. I was afraid that another death would push you over the edge.”

You nod. That’s fair, considering how you’d reacted over Doyun’s passing. You’re just about to reply and tell him that he’s the kind-hearted one for worrying about your wellbeing while he was the one on his deathbed when the General unexpectedly continues on—all the while avoiding eye contact:

“I was afraid that you’d care about me more than you really should,” he says, his voice much huskier than before. “I was afraid that all you’d remember about me if I died was that last, horrible conversation we had.” He stares up at you, the movement clearing the hair away from his face and revealing his softened eyes. “All I could remember were the mistakes.”

Your heart feels like it’s in your throat. What does he mean? Questions are brewing in your head faster than you’re getting the answers, and suddenly, your head feels like it’s about to burst. He was afraid that you’d care about him more than you really should? What the hell is that supposed to mean? You didn’t even think the last conversation you had with him before his injury was that horrible—just puzzling. And the mistakes? You can’t recall a single one.

“I’ve thought about what I’ve said, Officer,” the General continues, slowly, almost cautiously. “I’ve thought about the gravity of it. I’ve thought about the repercussions. I’ve thought about how you’ve taken it, too. It’s all I thought about since the moment I gained consciousness, Officer.”

“Sir…” You have no idea what is coming next. And suddenly, you’re feeling a new kind of fear.

“I should have never put you in that position,” he says. “I should not have told you the things I told you that day, Officer. It was inappropriate of me, as your General and superior, and I… I sincerely apologize for my misconduct.”

Does he mean…?

I can’t lose you. I can’t bear the thought.

I’ll do everything in my power to keep you alive.

It’d really kill me to lose you too.

His voice echoes in your head for the thousandth time.

Did he say those words out of desperation? Is he only apologizing now that he realizes they aren’t true? Or did he really mean them? Is he apologizing because he believes that you don’t feel the same?

What do you say? How do you respond to this?

He didn’t need to apologize. Not if he truly meant those words. Not if you would say them back in a heartbeat.

The words spill out of you before you can swallow them in cowardliness. “But I care about you too, sir,” you say.

He completely freezes.

“I care about you as you are my General, but you are also a person I trust and admire and support. Even if you were stripped from your position and your title, I would be by your side, sir. T-To be honest, I have also been ruminating over our last conversation. And I… I just can’t seem to discern the line. You tell me that you’ve grown to care about me and that it’d kill you to lose me, but in that same breath, you demand orders from me and dismiss me from your presence as a superior. I don’t know what to think, sir. And for Sooht’s sake! I can’t stop calling you ‘sir,’ and you have yet to cease to call me ‘Officer.’ I will always be your offi—I mean—captain, sir. And yet… yet I’m confused. Because when you tell someone that you would do everything in your power to keep them alive, there are certain connotations that come with it that you cannot deny! M-My point is, if I even have a point within all of this nonsense, it’s not misconduct if both parties feel the same way!”

You pant for breath, feeling almost dizzy due to an outburst that you hadn’t planned to have at all. It’s only when you feel your legs nearly give out from underneath you that you realize that you had been standing. Somewhere along your nervous speech, you’d stood up, and in your frenzy, you hadn’t even noticed.

It’s only for a few seconds, but it feels like an eternity, this silence. And in those seconds, you observe him, his countenance. Does he look horrified? Had you drastically misinterpreted every single one of his words? Had you crossed the line?

But no, he looks the same. He has an unreadable expression on his face—one that instills fear in you all over again. Does he think you’re delusional? Does he still believe it is misconduct and now you’re guilty of it too? In that case, you should apologize immediately. But before you can get a word out, he speaks:

“Love and war is dangerously precarious.”

Your heart sinks at his words.

“Do you remember that, Officer? We’ve established that over a year ago, did we not?”

“Y-Yes, sir,” you say, lowering your head. “Of course I remember, sir.”

“Have your opinions changed?”

“T-They haven’t, sir.”

“Mine have not, either,” he replies. He lets out a shaky breath that makes the fear within you grow stronger. “We haven’t been able to change each other’s opinions, my officer. But then again, we are stubborn people, aren’t we?” He smiles, though you can’t necessarily say he looks happy. “I speak to you as a Solarian—without my title, my position, my honor—but you were right to say that there are certain connotations that come with declaring responsibility for another’s life. I cannot deny this. In fact, everything I’ve told you remains true.”

Oh.

There’s an emptiness that rings inside of you for just a moment before the floodgate of thoughts opens up.

So there are feelings. You hadn’t been projecting after all. But instead of feeling relief, even a bit of happiness, you feel despair. Because even if you were something more than an officer and her General, you could never be together. It wouldn’t be fair to either of you. You can’t imagine having a broken heart during a war—especially not as a captain. You’ve seen what love can do to people. You’ve seen how it made Doyun. You’ve seen Taehoon volunteer to fight to be with Hana. You’ve seen couples torn apart, couples brought together. But there always comes a time when one of them dies—if not both. You can’t deal with any more sadness. You can’t have another death like Doyun’s.

“If there was no war,” you whisper, “do you think…?”

The General doesn’t meet your eyes. “I wouldn’t doubt it for a second.”

It hurts. Not in the kind of pain you felt when he was slowly dying on that same cot over a week ago, but in the kind of pain that just rips you apart from the insides—it’s so quick, so sudden that you feel numb afterward.

It’s just not meant to be.

The two of you have come to such a precise conclusion, strangely enough, considering that everything about this conversation had been crafted by reading between the lines. Yet it’s a conclusion nevertheless, and it’s best not to dwell on things that you cannot change.

“But Officer, I don’t want you to think for a second that this will change how I feel for you,” the General says. “I will always regard you highly. I will always feel happy when you are in my presence. I will always worry when you worry. I will always become angry at the things that have hurt you. But I… I am a General, Officer. I am the General of the fucking Solarian Army, and if I misstep, if I lose my vision, my goal for even a millisecond, I will be putting thousands of lives in danger. I cannot risk that, my officer. I’m sure you understand.”

It kills him to have to admit this.

And a small, deep part of him is angry about it, too. He never wanted this responsibility. It was forced onto him. It was his birthright, but never once had he ever sought power and fame. He wants to love, too. He wants to feel things other than anger and hatred toward the Darlaeans. He wants to be happy. He wants to know what it would be like to be with you. But as the last of the Min Clan, he must fulfill his duties, and it’s too late to back out now.

“I do, sir,” you say. He can’t read your face today. It’s so guarded, though he sees an occasional flash of vibrant emotions in your eyes. “I understand.”

“You may leave when you wish, Officer.”

You linger, which he notices. It makes him wonder if everything you and he had just concluded had been a giant mistake. So what if love and war is precarious? Who’s to say it will fail every time? Was it foolish to not give it a chance? But no… To have the General of all people involved in romance and feelings and emotional affairs. He shudders. He can just hear the rumors that would spread like wildfire.

Instead of saving lives and leading battles, he’s stuck in the arms of his own officer!—the same officer he appointed in a suspiciously expedited process! He won’t let her fight to protect her but forgets to protect the thousands of soldiers under his rule. How pathetic! He could be thinking of Solaria, his own nation, but he’s too busy thinking of his officer to even properly tend to his duties! What a disgrace they both are, canoodling around and wasting precious time when they could be doing their jobs!

Yoongi can’t let that happen. He doesn’t really care if they drag his name through the dirt and blood and grime. But he knows that these rumors also won’t leave you alone. He can’t have that. This kind of gossip is the same one that could quite possibly lead to insubordination. Your own soldiers might cease to listen to you, respect you. He could never allow that to happen.

But…

To think that you’ve felt the same all this time. To think that you could’ve lost sleep over this. To think that in another time and place, this could’ve happened.

He doesn’t know what to think.

He just wants to lie down for a very, very long time. And he knows he can do it, too. Because for the first time in his damn life, he has all the time in the world.

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⨰ a/n: oops! is this anything like you expected? with just two chapters left in this act, there's going to be some more ~drama~ anyways, have a fantastic new years; i'll see you with another chapter in 2023! (p.s. i just wanna give yoongi and oc a hug 😭😭)

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