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deepspacedukat · 8 months ago

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The Defector (And His Doctor) - Part Two

MOAR SOUP FOR THE POINTY SOUL. I was a lil too verbose in this chapter (it's WAY longer than the first one), so there will be an epilogue, and FEAR YE NOT A LONG WAIT, FOR I HAVE ALREADY WRITTEN IT AND IT SHALL BE POSTED MERE MOMENTS (probably less than an hour) AFTER THIS. *ahem* Enjoy! 😇

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

Part 1 here.

~*~

Beverly Crusher (ST:TNG) x Alidar Jarok (ST:TNG)

[A/N: This chapter has smut/is smut adjacent, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Spoilers for ST:TNG S3E10 "The Defector", interspecies sex, Human/Romulan sex, implied Human/Romulan sex, non-explicit interspecies sex, innuendo, flirting, romance, angst, guilt, mentions of poison, if you've seen the episode then you know the ending gets a little dark, suicidal ideation, but there's a happy ending, Jarok needs therapy, and Bev is gonna make sure he gets it, confused/well-intentioned/trying-his-best Data, smug Tomalak.

~*~

**Day Two**

A day in the Reman mines would be less infuriating than this. Admiral Jarok, under the alias of Sub-lieutenant Setal, had battled back and forth with Commander Riker and Counselor Troi all morning with neither side making any headway.

"You're forcing yourself to hold back," the Betazoid counselor had stated with near-maddening calmness, and she hadn't been wrong.

"I have told you everything relevant about Nelvana Three," he'd fired back, but neither of the Starfleet officers had been convinced. The two had teamed up and pressed him on and on, until finally he'd snapped at them, shouting about how irrelevant their inquiries were to their current situation. "What a fool I've been to come looking for courage in a den of cowards..."

The interrogation had ended shortly after his biting remark. Jarok shouldn't have been surprised, but he really had thought that Starfleet would show a modicum of bravery in the face of impending war. Thus far, the only true fortitude he'd seen had come from the beautiful Doctor Crusher.

Ah, the doctor. Her smiles coupled with that fiery red mane made him wish that he'd had a reason to remain in the medical bay for much longer.

Just thinking of her as he strode back inside his quarters made the scowl melt off his features. Since he had effectively exiled himself from Romulus, he would have to make a new life. Maybe, if she was willing...?

No. No, he needed to temper his thoughts, at least until the dust had settled from this situation. But...he supposed it wouldn't hurt if he made his interest known. Nobody ever complained about a few extra compliments, so he could allow himself to flirt harmlessly with her.

He didn't even know if she had a mate. He really ought to check, first. If she had a partner, he would keep his flirtations to a minimum. After all, Jarok was here to stop a war, not disturb a family's peace. His own sham of an arranged marriage was not an excuse for him to cause unnecessary problems for others.

Pulling up the limited biographical profile that the computer allowed him access to, the Admiral sipped his replicated water and skimmed the information before him. Her age, rank, qualifications, and commendations were included, as well as a note that she had a son who was an acting officer onboard the Enterprise. When he reached her marital status, guilt wound its way through Alidar's heart.

She had been married, but her husband had died when her son was very young. She'd been forced to raise her child alone while also maintaining her career? He could tell from the moment he met her that she was a strong woman, but that particular revelation was one he hadn't expected.

Had he crossed a line when he flirted with her before? Jarok was aware that some people never pursued relationships after losing a spouse, either out of guilt or a preference not to risk their hearts again. Perhaps he should take a slightly more cautious approach to this...

Walking to the control panel that Riker had showed him how to use the day before, he opened a communication channel with the ship's first officer.

"What can I do for you, Setal?" He sounded purely professional. After the questioning session earlier, he was surprised that the Human sounded that unaffected. Reluctantly, Jarok admitted to himself that he was impressed.

"Commander, that medical officer who examined me yesterday - Doctor Crusher, I believe her name was - I need to see her, if you don't mind," he said trying to sound as casual as possible. "I feel as though I might be coming down with something."

"I'll ask her to come by your quarters at her earliest convenience." When the channel closed, the Admiral smiled to himself. Now, he would find out whether there was a chance of experiencing some small amount of joy in his exile.

After her discussion with the Captain the previous night, the request from Commander Riker to visit Setal's quarters made Beverly wish that she'd stayed in bed. The Romulan had seemed so charming when he was in sickbay, but as Jean-Luc had correctly pointed out, it was entirely possible that he could've given himself those burns and lied about everything.

Grabbing a medkit from their storage shelf, the Doctor straightened her blue lab coat and made her way down the corridors.

What could she say to him after yesterday's conversation that wouldn't make her feel conflicted? She knew it was her duty as a Starfleet officer to question his motives, but...after all, he had asked for their help. Would he really give up his home for a mere ruse?

Unfortunately, she didn't know enough about Setal or his people to answer that question with any sort of confidence.

Within moments she found herself outside his door, staring at the panel beside it as if it might bite her.

"Don't be ridiculous. He's just another patient," she murmured under her breath. Before she could second-guess the action, she activated the door chime and stood a little straighter.

When the door slid open at his behest, she stepped inside and found her one and only Romulan patient staring out at the stars with a glass of water in his hand. He turned to face her, and when their eyes met, a swarm of butterflies seemed to alight in her abdomen.

No. She couldn't do this now. He asked for a medical officer, not a schoolgirl with a crush.

"Commander Riker said you needed a house call," Beverly stated as she looked Sub-lieutenant Setal up and down. Whatever was wrong with him wasn't immediately evident, but maybe his injuries from earlier ached more than she'd anticipated. The Federation still knew so little about Romulan physiology that sight-only diagnosis was nearly impossible. "What are your symptoms, Sub-lieutenant?"

A smile filled with mischief stretched his lips.

"Loneliness, Doctor. One of the most painful afflictions known to sentient species across the universe," the Romulan answered as he took a few slow steps toward her. "I had hoped that the most charming Terran I've ever had the fortune to meet would give me the honor of a few moments' conversation."

Beverly's cheeks burned. She'd found Setal attractive from the moment he walked into her Sickbay, but she really couldn't afford such a distraction, especially with the threat of war looming over them.

"My, what kind words for someone whom you barely know. Do you speak to all Human women like that?"

"Truthfully, I have never spoken to a Human woman before you, and if I do in the future, it certainly won't be like this," he said gesturing to the couch.

Beverly hesitated. She really shouldn't allow a patient to speak to her in such a familiar manner, but...there was something about him she just couldn't resist. Eventually, she let out a quiet sigh and took a seat on the sofa, setting her kit and medical tricorder aside. The Sub-lieutenant sat a comfortable margin away, and despite her knowing better, she found herself wondering what it would feel like to run her fingers through his hair. The smattering of gray in his sideburns made him look quite distinguished. Whatever his age was, Setal wore it well.

"Your curiosity is practically tangible, Doctor. May I ask what's on your mind?" Her eyes flicked up to his, and the sparkle she found there drew an involuntary smile to her lips. She certainly couldn't tell him what she was really thinking about, so she settled for the next best thing.

"May I ask why you wanted to talk to me in particular if you wanted appealing company? There are undoubtedly much prettier Ensigns and Lieutenants aboard–"

"That is quite a subjective statement, and frankly, I find it inaccurate," he murmured, and she looked at him curiously. Beverly knew she was a decently attractive woman, but...really, why had he chosen her? "Speaking candidly, Doctor, I found it...refreshing that you were not intimidated by me while you were treating my injuries. You dared to request that I, a Romulan officer with three times the strength of a Human, remain still after making a joke about how I got those burns in the first place. And you did so without flinching."

She raised an eyebrow and tried very hard to ignore the little stab of fear in her gut.

"Are you telling me you got them some other way?" She hoped her probing question had sounded like she was teasing him rather than trying to discover whether Jean-Luc was right. A slow, appreciative smile stretched his lips, and he took a slow sip of his water before setting the glass aside.

"I didn't take a plasma torch to myself, if that's what you are implying, Doctor, though, I do thank you for assuming that I would have the strength of will to intentionally mutilate myself in pursuit of the Empire's interests," Setal said as he turned to face her more fully, draping his arm along the back of the sofa. His knee just barely brushed hers. "I would die for my people, yes, but I must admit that I am rather allergic to pain."

A huff of laughter bubbled up through her relief and slipped past her lips before she could stop it.

"It was an accident," he clarified. "I was attempting to complete multiple tasks at once - fly the ship, dodge phaser fire from the warbird, and repair systems before they could go down... There came a point where I neglected repairs long enough for the conduit next to my station to explode. Regrettable, but I considered that a small price to pay to save my life...and the lives of countless others, assuming that your people believe me in time to avert a war, of course."

She searched his face as he spoke, but he was either a very good actor, or he was telling the truth. Her intuition told her it was the latter.

"For what it's worth, I believe you." Beverly knew she shouldn't be admitting that, but she was inclined to tell him the truth. After all, whether she bought his story or not, it was ultimately up to the Captain to decide whether to pursue his leaked information.

Setal looked at her with a lopsided grin.

"Now, that is a pleasant surprise," the Sub-lieutenant began, "but I wonder, will your honesty still be present when we dine together?"

Beverly's heart beat an alarming rhythm in her chest at the presumptuous question, and she raised her eyebrows inquisitively.

"I don't recall receiving any such invitation, Sub-lieutenant," she murmured, and she was proud of how steady her voice sounded despite the excitement pooling within her. She really shouldn't be excited about dining with a Romulan, defector or not, she supposed, but then...he was extremely charming.

"Ah, my apologies for getting ahead of myself–" he didn't look sorry in the least "–but would you allow me to share a meal with you?"

"I'm on duty," Beverly pointed out, but Setal was not deterred.

"Surely, you are permitted to break for sustenance at some point? Or are all Starfleet Doctors required to starve themselves? How do your Vulcan friends put it, 'the needs of the many,' I believe...?" She contemplated refusing - surely there was a conflict on interest somewhere in accepting? The Sub-lieutenant's expression was hopeful and a bit playful, and mentally, Beverly acknowledged that she really shouldn't want to know him as much as she did. "If it makes you feel better, you may of course choose where we eat. I'm quite comfortable to bend to your whims. We can remain here if you are ashamed to be seen with a Romulan, if you are wary of being alone with one of my kind we can eat in your ship's mess hall, or if there is another place you'd prefer...?"

"The brig it is, then," she teased, but realizing how that might've come across, she winced. Damn her sharp tongue–

A low, rich laugh shook her out of her thoughts.

"If that is what you desire, I swear to be the most willing prisoner that you have ever had, Doctor." His good humor was infectious, and Beverly found herself smiling even as her combadge chirped.

"Crusher here."

"Sorry to disturb your appointment, Doctor, but I wanted to let you know that the patient requiring shoulder surgery is being prepped and should be ready for you in a few minutes." Nurse Ogawa was professional as always, and Beverly acknowledged the message before turning back to Setal. To her surprise, he was watching her with undisguised interest.

"Forgive me for keeping you here for so long, Doctor," he murmured in a softer voice than she'd heard from him before. "I am truly grateful for the company."

She knew it was wrong, but she smiled as she picked up her medkit.

"It's alright. You can make it up to me at lunch. Twelve-hundred hours," she said as she got to her feet. A look of delighted surprise crossed his features, and as she turned to leave his quarters, she smirked. "Come to Ten-Forward, though. Not the brig."

"I will, Doctor," he called, and without looking back, she made her way back to Sickbay.

Jarok couldn't wipe the smile off his lips after the Doctor's visit that morning. He was in a better mood when he strode off to Ten-Forward than he had been since he made the decision to leave Romulus.

Upon entering the recreational area, the Admiral was struck first and foremost by the view. Across the entirety of the far wall were viewports. Stars whizzed by as the Enterprise traveled through space, and he had to admit that he understood why this spot was apparently so popular.

"Hi. Sub-lieutenant Setal, right?" A cheerful voice sounded at his side, and Jarok turned to find a young man looking at him with typical Human curiosity. There was something familiar about him, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what.

"I am. And you are?"

"Acting Ensign Wesley Crusher," the boy answered, and Jarok's eyes went wide.

"You're the Doctor's son."

"Yes, sir." No wonder the young man wasn't looking at him with suspicion like the rest of the crew - he had his mother's courage.

"And what is your specialty? Are you going to command a starship one day, or perhaps become a medical officer like your mother?"

"Oh, neither. Wes is bound to be an engineer," another voice called out, and striding over was an officer wearing a metallic visor. He clapped Wesley genially on the shoulder and offered the Admiral his hand in greeting. "Lieutenant Commander Geordi La Forge. Pleasure to meet you Sub-lieutenant."

Jarok shook the hand that La Forge offered him.

"Well, this future engineer obviously has a dash of bravery in him if he's not afraid to approach a terrifying Romulan," Jarok snarked, and the boy just laughed.

"Would you like to join us for lunch, sir?" Wesley asked, but before he could answer, a hand grasped Jarok's arm.

"Sorry, Wes. This gentleman already has an appointment." The Admiral's heart thudded in his side at the sound of his Doctor's lovely voice.

"Thank you for the offer, but perhaps another time," Jarok said before turning his attention to the woman at his side. "I'm all yours, Doctor."

The smile she gave him filled him with enough joy that he could have powered a thousand warp cores with energy to spare. A willing victim to the currents of her whims, Alidar followed her to a table for two near one of the viewports, ignoring the looks they were receiving. If the crew wished to witness their Doctor - the most beautiful of their number - choosing to spend time with him of all people, then they could do so. He just puffed up his chest slightly and basked in the warmth of her gaze as they took their seats.

Someone called Guinan came over and took their orders, tossing Beverly a wink. Jarok hoped that was a good sign.

The rest of Ten-Forward seemed to fall away as the pair talked. Even their food lay untouched for large chunks of their conversation. At one point, they both were so caught up in each others' company that they didn't even notice the removal of their empty trays.

This was so easy, so natural, that the Admiral knew she had worked her way permanently into his heart. Perhaps it was too soon to call this feeling 'love' but he knew it would end up that way eventually.

When the time came for Doctor Crusher to return to duty, Jarok managed to convince her that dinner together was just as good of an idea as lunch had been. She even went so far as to suggest that they eat in her quarters. She stood to take her leave, and the Admiral gave her a respectful bow and a flirtatious wink that drew a pretty pink blush to her cheeks.

Resuming his seat once she'd gone, Alidar looked up and found a golden-eyed man staring at him.

"I take it you have never seen a Romulan before?" He asked with a smirk.

"That would be an incorrect assumption," the oddly-pale officer replied.

"Then why do you invade my privacy?" A hint of irritation leaked into his tone, but Jarok didn't particularly care. The only Human's opinion he cared about was the Doctor's and she wasn't here. All he wanted to do was sink into the afterglow of the time he'd just spent with Beverly, but this person insisted on interfering.

"I was attempting to ascertain what my guts tell me about you," the officer said, and the wording was so strange that the man's identity struck the Admiral all at once.

"You're the android," he murmured. "I know some Romulan cyberneticists who would love to be this close to you."

After a second's consideration, the android tilted his head slightly and replied.

"I do not find that concept particularly appealing."

"Nor should you," Jarok muttered ominously. The android made some inane remark about this viewport being a favorite amongst various members of the crew, but all he could muster was a non-committal hum. He missed his own stars - he hadn't meant to actually say that out loud, but all of a sudden he found himself trailing after the android officer who'd said something about bringing Romulus to him.

After typing specifications into a computer panel against a wall, Data ordered the computer to run a program and gestured for him to enter a pair of doors first. Skeptical, Jarok forced his expression to remain neutral as he did so.

For all his mental preparation, nothing could have dulled the shock of the landscape laid before him.

"The Valley of Chula. I know it well!" He marveled, but something about being in such a familiar place, even if it was just a simulation, felt sour after what he'd done.

"You may stay here as long as you wish," Data offered, rather magnanimously for an android, but after allowing himself one last look at the world he'd left behind, Alidar shook his head.

"I no longer live here," he rasped. "Turn it off."

Once the harsh, cold lines of the hologrid were visible, Jarok forced himself to look hard at his surroundings.

"This. This is my home now. My future. I have sacrificed everything. It must not be in vain." Taking a deep, fortifying breath of recycled air, he turned to Lieutenant Commander Data. "Arrange a meeting between myself and Captain Picard. Tell him Admiral Jarok wants to see him."

"Ensign, will you wait outside?" Picard asked, and once the officer was gone, his eyes fell upon Alidar once more. He'd been delivered to the Captain's ready room with more haste than he'd anticipated. He assumed he was only delayed long enough for the Captain to confirm his identity. "Have a seat Admiral Jarok."

"Captain, there is no more time," he protested.

"Admiral, have a seat," Picard said a bit more forcefully, and because Jarok knew the man wouldn't get down to business until he'd complied, he finally sat in the chair across from him. The Captain seemed more stoic than he had before, more serious...harsher somehow. Jarok knew he would be. This was precisely the reaction he'd wanted to avoid. "You see, I'm just not convinced that you are telling the truth."

Oh, Elements! This again?

"What must I do?" The Admiral was beyond frustration, now. Could this Terran not see that their very worlds hung in the balance?

"You must convince me," Picard answered, and that unshakable calm was almost worse than harsh words and shouting. Was the man half-Vulcan? "If I had irrefutable evidence...but you did not bring irrefutable evidence. You brought no evidence at all. Now, here, you are not the man you claimed to be. Admiral, your credibility is stretched beyond belief. A Romulan defector is almost a contradiction in terms, but Admiral Jarok crossing the lines?"

"I explained my motivations to your interrogators," he rebutted, but the Captain brushed that aside.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. 'Peace in our galaxy.' Except, Admiral, you are not a man of peace. Your military record - what we know of it - is clear."

"Which is precisely why I chose an alternate identity here." Jarok would've thought that particular point would've been obvious, but...

"The massacres in the Norkan outposts, for example." Anger was finally edging into Picard's tone at that, but this was one argument for which Alidar was prepared. He explained briefly about semantics - massacres versus campaigns, butchers versus heroes - something the Federation should understand well given their own history with warfare.

Picard got to his feet, asked him some half-baked question about how he was to believe him when no evidence was available. He prodded him about classified information on Romulan tactical positions, fortifications, cloaking technology. The Captain rambled on about unbelievable circumstances and the difficulty of accepting his word on faith, and when the Admiral had the gall to tell him that he would not betray his people, that was when Picard chose to raise his voice.

"You've already betrayed your people, Admiral! You've made your choices, sir! You're a traitor! Now, if the bitter taste of that is unpalatable to you, I am truly sorry. But I will not risk the lives of my crew, because you think you can dance on the edge of the Neutral Zone." The Captain gradually lowered his voice to something calm again - something somber that felt like a vice closing around Jarok's throat. "You've crossed over, Admiral. You make yourself comfortable with that."

That little tirade cut deeper than Jarok had anticipated. The cold, harsh reality of the sacrifices he'd made were being forced before him yet again in startling clarity, yet...he knew that despite his own pain, he had begun the necessary tasks. Now all he must do was follow through on them.

Admiral Jarok took a brief moment, a steadying breath and played his last remaining card, his one vulnerability.

"Do you have any children, Captain Picard? A family?" The man in question looked exasperated and a bit uncomfortable as he answered negatively - so he'd struck a nerve, then. "Then you have sacrificed too much for your career."

"Yes, this is all very interesting–" The Romulan held up a hand to stop him, and to his relief, the Captain listened.

Impatient though he was, he did at least listen as Jarok explained about how his daughter, her future, and the futures of all children, were his motivation. He told Picard everything - how he attempted to persuade those in command that another war would destroy the Empire, his censure when they grew tired of his arguments, his reassignment to a distant sector, and how this was his final recourse.

By the time he finished, he was on the verge of pleading, because surely the Captain would see that acting on his information was necessary to save both their peoples. Just as he thought he'd succeeded, Picard's gaze hardened once more.

"I will not act. Not unless I have unequivocal cooperation."

Damn the man. One appraising look later, Jarok sat with a data PADD in his hand, inputting all the information he believed was relevant to their mission. When he was finished, Picard nodded his head and thanked him for the assistance. Taking that as the dismissal it was, Admiral Jarok strode from the Captain's ready room and found himself instantly flanked by two security officers.

"How kind of you to escort me back to my quarters, gentlemen," he teased as the three of them stepped into the turbolift. He was finally free to turn his attention to the much more pleasant task of preparing for his evening with the beautiful Doctor.

Beverly didn't believe it at first when the rumors began flying through the corridors and into Sickbay. Setal, a Romulan Admiral? She scoffed the first few times she heard it, but when Will Riker popped into Sickbay to retrieve a copy of the medical scans they'd taken of Setal and called him Jarok instead, a lump formed in her throat.

What a fool she'd been! As she handed over the records with a fake smile plastered on her face, she berated herself for falling for Seta– Jarok's charms. She really felt something for him, but obviously he'd been using her.

Practically falling into the chair in her office, she covered her face with her hands and took a steadying breath. She'd made it all too easy for him to get under her skin. A few sweet words, a few mischievous smiles, and she'd become putty in his hands. Maybe so many years without Jack had made her more gullible.

"Doctor? Are you alright?" Nurse Ogawa lingered in the doorway, catching the expression on Beverly's face before she had a chance to hide it.

"I'm fine, Alyssa."

"Respectfully, ma'am, you're not a very good liar," her friend said with a sympathetic smile. "If you want or need to talk, I'm here, okay?"

An announcement rang out over the Comm System for all Senior officers to report to the briefing room, and before she walked out, Beverly drew her friend into a tight hug. She'd take the support, but for now, she had duties to attend to.

The journey across decks was almost automatic for her, at that point, so she allowed herself to become lost in thought while the turbolift hummed along. Was it his real identity that she hated, or did she simply hate that he'd deceived her?

She didn't particularly care who he really was, and she wasn't exactly thrilled that he'd lied to her, but he'd done that to the whole crew, so...what was it that was really bothering her?

She walked into the briefing room and took her seat. As she settled in, a few of the assembled officers, Will, Deanna, and Geordi, looked at her with concern before the Captain strode in.

Oh. That's what it was. This felt like school. Beverly was always the last to find things out because she was always teased as a child. She was the last to find out about Alidar, despite the fact that he'd had lunch with her, complimented her, flirted with her... He'd treated her as though she was special - as though she actually meant something to him - but she was still the last to know the truth.

That was why she was so hurt.

But, what did it say about her that she didn't care whether he was a Sub-lieutenant trying to avert a war or an Admiral trying to trick them into starting one?

She sat up straighter in her chair, listened intently to Jean-Luc's briefing, and contemplated how she'd handle seeing him tonight. She had a few hours to think of what she could possibly say to him that wouldn't sound as though she was just some whiny, lovelorn teenager. 'I thought you cared about me' sounded far and away too desperate for a person she'd known for less than two full days.

When the briefing ended and the room began to empty out, Deanna moved to walk alongside the Doctor.

"Will and Geordi mentioned what happened. Are you–?"

"I'm fine." Her clipped tone betrayed exactly how not fine she was, but at that moment she didn't care.

"You know where my office is."

She did indeed, and when she was ready she'd talk to the Counselor about all of this. But, at that moment, all she wanted to do was prepare herself for what could be an extremely unpleasant evening.

The Captain had seen fit to lower the number of guards following the Admiral from two to one - much more tolerable than before, even if the one currently beside him was constantly scowling. He hadn't been stopped when he visited the Arboretum to obtain flowers for his lady, nor had he been deterred when the officer in question had chosen to stand uncomfortably close to him as he activated Beverly's door chime.

"Come in," she called, and as the door slid open, he was greeted with the sight of his Doctor out of uniform. A soft, green, knit sweater draped artfully off one shoulder to reveal a tantalizing bit of skin. She couldn't possibly know that Romulans used to mark their mates and be teasing him about that...could she?

He honestly wouldn't put it past her. She was clever and utterly devious, he was convinced of it.

A pair of dark lounge pants made her look elegant in her comfort - more formal than such an outfit had any right to be - and the Admiral suddenly felt decidedly underdressed despite the presence of his own uniform.

"Good evening, Admiral." Her voice was quiet and calm, but there was an underlying coolness that nearly stopped his heart. His smile drooped a fraction. He should've known that she'd find out before he had a chance to tell her. Looking over his shoulder, she addressed his guard. "Wait outside, please, Ensign."

The hiss of the door closing behind him sounded more foreboding that he'd expected. Neither spoke for a long moment. She looked at him expectantly, and he dared to take a few tentative steps forward to present the flowers he'd brought her.

"I visited the ship's Arboretum. I had not encountered these flowers before, but their exotic beauty reminded me instantly of you," he said offering the bouquet he'd put together for her. "I believe they are called roses."

She said nothing. She made no move to take them from his hand. The silence stretched long enough to make him wonder if he'd ruined everything.

"Were you even going to tell me?" Beverly's question was so quiet that had he not been Romulan, he would've been in danger of missing it.

"Of course I was. I simply... The moment never felt...correct for such an admission."

"What moment would have been better?" She asked, and for a split second, Alidar wondered whether all Starfleet officers, save Riker, had taken the same course of expressing anger with Vulcan-like calm. "Would it have been more appropriate in your eyes to wait until we were in bed together?"

He sighed. What else could he do?

"What you have to understand is–"

"Jarok? Admiral? What am I to call you now?" She asked, and she began to muse aloud. "'Jarok' conveys the wrong tone altogether, 'Admiral' seems too formal, and I assume 'Alidar' is off the table as it's too casual for a man with your reputation."

He took a deep breath and laid the flowers aside on the side table by her sofa.

"I cannot change what I have done in the past, nor shall I apologize for doing my duty as an Admiral in the Romulan military. This is precisely why I dreaded telling you," he muttered looking away. "Since my past obviously offends you–"

"Your past? I don't give a damn about your past," she exclaimed, stunning the Admiral into silence as he gaped at her. "I'm hurt, Admiral, not because of who you are, but because I was the last person on this entire ship to find out!"

They both looked at each other, quietly assessing the situation.

"The looks of...of pity that were sent my way just because everyone else knew and I didn't... Do you have any idea how that felt? Did you think I was an easy mark? That I was so blinded by my attraction to you that I'd never find out?" Her questions stung, but not because they were accusatory. They kicked him right in the chest because of the underlying assumption: that he would manipulate her in such a cruel manner because of how little he thought of her.

The opposite was true. He thought the world of her, and it was an injustice that he'd behaved in such a manner that the thought had even crossed her mind. Jarok took a single, careful step toward her.

"E'lev...I didn't tell you, because I was afraid that I would lose you if you knew who I was," he explained looking into her eyes. "You are the only bright spot in this entire ordeal, and I was certain that if you knew all the grisly things I've done for my people, all the terrible orders I've given, all the lives I've been forced to take, you would despise me or worse...fear me."

Looking up at him with those big, blue eyes of hers, the Doctor surprised him yet again by closing the distance between them, cupping his cheeks, and gently skimming her thumbs across his skin.

"Admiral, over the past day and a half, you've shown me exactly who you are. I don't hate you for the choices you've made, and I'm not afraid of you," she murmured. "I trust you...or at least, I hope that I can trust you."

Such an admission from a woman who really shouldn't be associating with him at all made him crumble. All he could think to do when he was this vulnerable was to close his eyes and lean into her touch as he nodded his head.

"You can. I will do all that I can to justify that trust." His voice came out as little more than a rough whisper. What had he done to deserve such mercy and understanding from her? What right did he have to even be in the presence of a lady of such mercy?

"Would you stay and talk with me, Admiral?"

"Only if you'll call me Alidar, Doctor," he stipulated as he opened his eyes once more. Truthfully, he'd have stayed even if she only ever wanted to call him 'Setal' from now on. He would gladly be anything that she wanted him to be. "I don't ever want to hear my title from you."

"I think I can do that, but I'll expect you to call me Beverly in return." The way her eyes sparkled up at him was utterly irresistible.

"As you wish...beautiful Beverly," he murmured, savoring the syllables as they flowed over his tongue. Willingly, he allowed her to grasp his hands and lead him over to the couch - he'd have done anything for her. This, of all things, was no trouble.

"Now, I want to know about you - the real you," she said, and Jarok smiled.

The pair talked for several hours. He answered every question she had, even going so far as to explain about Romulan customs regarding officers of his previous position and their marriages being arranged for political gain. At the first whiff of his dissatisfaction with the Romulan government's aggressive policies, his wife had seen no further advantage to remaining with him and filed for an annulment. His daughter and some distant relatives were the only people he'd left behind on Romulus.

"Speaking of children...your son, Wesley," he began, and Beverly's lips stretched into the sort of proud smile only a parent could manage. "He takes after his mother quite a bit, from what I can tell. I believe his father would be proud of the man you have raised him to be."

"Hardly any of that is down to me," she demurred leaning more fully against him. "He's more like Jack than he realizes - all duty and responsibility. You know, Wesley tried so hard to fill the void that I had to remind him he was a kid more than once just so he'd go have a little fun."

"Well, he certainly has your courage, e'lev," he mused, and she let out a quiet laugh, settling her head on his shoulder. The sensation felt wonderful, especially when paired with the knowledge that she was at ease enough to touch him so casually.

After a moment's comfortable silence, he looked down into Beverly's eyes, allowing himself to get lost in her gaze yet again.

"Alright, I'll bite. What's on your mind, handsome?" Jarok preened at her praise.

"The view. Even the heavens are different here on this side of the Neutral Zone. The stars are wrong," he murmured, "but perhaps..."

She tilted her head curiously when he trailed off, raising her eyebrows in askance.

"Perhaps your eyes can be my new stars." Gently, Alidar cupped her cheek, running the tips of his fingers down the softness of her skin. "Only if you're willing, of course."

He noted only a short moment of hesitation as she processed his words before smiling up at him.

"Why, Alidar, I'd be honored," she said just above a whisper, and he felt his heart speed up in his side. Before he could do anything about it, though, gentle lips met his.

This gesture was so open, so intimate, so...Human. Jarok melted against her, following her lead until they were both breathless and clinging desperately to each other. Somewhere in their haze, the Doctor had ended up wrapping her arms around his neck and straddling his lap. His hands had taken up residence on her hips, keeping her steady above him as they explored each other.

He knew that she could tell how hard he was. She wasn't some inexperienced virgin, she was a woman who'd had a child. As her fingertips skimmed through his hair and coaxed him into another kiss, Jarok couldn't help but marvel at her. She as such a force of nature! He couldn't deny her anything, even if he wanted to. He'd crumble after an instant if only to receive more of this wonderful, exquisite intimacy from her.

How had he fallen so far so quickly? He'd defected from the Empire, lost his home, his daughter – all in a single day. Now, less than a day later, he found himself hoping to make love to a Human and cover her in the evidence of his affection. If his people could see the way he hummed hungrily into Beverly's mouth, they'd sneer at him for allowing a mere hevam to affect him so.

They wouldn't understand her magnetism or her beauty, because they'd be too blinded by their prejudice. He'd always been different in that respect. Jarok had never seen Humans as lesser than Romulans. They were different, yes, but he'd always wanted to satiate his curiosity rather than scoff at their existence. He was beginning to believe that it was an impossible task, though, because every time he learned more about Humans from Beverly, he found that instead of being less curious, he was even more so.

Alidar wanted to know everything about her - what made her happy or sad, what made her moan with pleasure, what her beautiful red hair looked like when it was mussed after a good night's sleep... He'd never been so ravenous for answers before in his life!

He managed to pry his lips from hers and began kissing down that lovely long neck of hers. The whimpers she gave him were precious gifts to be treasured and savored on the tip of his tongue for as long as he lived.

And were those her pheromones? Intoxicating woman... Was nothing about her flawed?

She leaned away from him just long enough to tug her sweater over her head and toss it away. His mouth met the dip in her collarbones, and she said his name like a prayer.

But if anyone was the worshiper in that situation, it was Alidar. Every millimeter of her was precious and sacred to him, and he vowed to himself as she tugged at his uniform tunic that he would never treat her as anything but the blessing from the Elements that she was.

And, oh, they had crafted her perfectly. Fire ran though her veins and gave itself away in her beautiful hair...her passion...her devotion. He'd always enjoyed a fire's heat. Even when he got burned, his respect for it only grew.

She was his favorite flame.

Beverly's forehead met his when both their torsos were nude. Their chests pressed against one another as they fought a battle between breath and pleasure. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, her fingers buried in his hair, and her quiet breaths mingling against his lips with his own.

Neither spoke - what could they say that was adequate in the midst of such affection? But, after a long moment, a small gurgling sound filled the air.

They'd completely forgotten about dinner, hadn't they? Their eyes met and both dissolved into a fit of giggles. Lifting her with ease, Alidar kissed Beverly's cheek and laid her on the sofa, taking a moment to admire the sight of her all flushed and vulnerable beneath him before walking to the replicator to get them both something to eat.

He'd save her for dessert.

The ship dropped to impulse a few hours later, and the pair of lovers who'd drifted off together after sharing a meal and a few more kisses finally got dressed once more.

Beverly reported to Sickbay, and Jarok was summoned to the Bridge not long after the ship reduced its speed.

It was time. Nelvana Three required his attention. Smoothing his hair in the turbolift and pointedly ignoring the disapproving glare his guard gave him, the Romulan reported as ordered only to find the Bridge crew in a state of agitation.

"Perhaps you'd care to explain why we're here, Admiral," Picard called out almost as soon as the turbolift door opened.

"There doesn't appear to be a base," Riker added sounding more than a little frustrated.

"I don't understand." Jarok said as he looked at the barren planet on their viewscreen.

"Nelvana Three, Admiral! No base, no weapons, no signs of any life at all!" The Captain exclaimed.

"But...I saw the tactical communiques...the records...timetables for completion," he said as he walked closer to the screen. "An entire legion was assigned to this sector."

"Is it possible they could have been feeding you disinformation? You said that you'd been censured, reassigned four months ago," Picard pointed out, and a buzzing began in Jarok's ears. "They knew of your dissatisfaction. Could all this have been to test your loyalty?"

"No. No, it's impossible," he protested, but a small, horror-struck part of his brain recognized that the Captain could be correct. Oh, Elements, if he'd been tricked–

"They let you escape with an arsenal of worthless secrets," Picard bit out. "What other explanation is there?"

The buzzing in his ears grew louder, and he gripped the wooden railing that surrounded the middle section of the Bridge as Picard's First Officer ordered them out of the Neutral Zone. His own people had deceived him.

Before the ship could run, though, two Romulan warbirds decloaked and fired on them. This couldn't be happening! Was Jarok trapped in some sort of nightmare?

The Romulan Commander eventually hailed them, and Picard engaged in a minor battle of wits with him.

Alidar barely heard a word until Tomalak's jab about Enterprise's broken hull being displayed as a warning to all other traitors who would dare defy the Empire. At that, he snapped.

"All the communiques...all the timetables, all the records. They were all fiction written for my benefit," the Admiral raged, but the smug Commander on the viewscreen merely looked smug as he continued. "A test... A test of my loyalty. And you used me to lure the Enterprise into the Neutral Zone."

Ignoring the accusations completely, Tomalak returned his attention to Picard.

"First, Captain, you will return the traitor Jarok, then you will surrender as prisoners of war."

The men went back and forth, trading threats, and with all the confidence of a man with an ace up his sleeve, Picard summoned two Klingon battle cruisers seemingly from nowhere.

But Jarok could not celebrate the fact that they were still alive. He could not find it within himself to be glad that he'd lived after being so thoroughly used and humiliated.

"I did it for nothing," he murmured, "my home, my family... For nothing."

In disgrace, with nothing left of his dignity, Former Admiral Alidar Jarok left the Bridge. Shame surrounded him like a haze. So caught up in his grief was he that he didn't notice the way Captain Picard's eyes followed his path to the turbolift.

In the middle of treating a few small injuries from the conflict with the Romulan warbirds, Beverly's combadge chirped.

"Doctor Crusher, I think it would be wise for you to visit Admiral Jarok's quarters, and...my instinct could be wrong, but you may wish to prepare for a medical emergency of some sort."

The Doctor paused as she set aside a dermal regenerator.

"Acknowledged, Captain, thank you," she replied. Picking up a medkit, she turned to Alyssa, but she was already waving her out the door.

"Go, we can handle ourselves. We'll cover for you as long as you need." With a grateful smile, she hurried out of sickbay toward her lover's quarters. 'Her lover'... What an odd sounding phrase after so long as a single woman.

But, what sort of injury could he possibly have that would drive him to his quarters rather than Sickbay? He would've known she'd be on duty, so why not simply come find her so she could help?

Activating his door chime, he shouted for whoever it was to go away. She hadn't expected to hear such anguish in his voice. She activated the chime again and this time she announced herself.

"Alidar? It's me, Beverly," she called. "Please, may I come in?"

A long, charged paused passed before he called for her to enter. When she did, she nearly fainted at the sight that greeted her. Tear tracks stained his cheeks as he stood by the viewport. He looked deflated, somehow...defeated.

"Please, let me see my stars one last time..." An orange felodesine chip was clutched desperately between his fingers. Beverly's heart sank. He wouldn't...he couldn't, not after all they'd been through in the last couple of days.

"Alidar...wait, please," she adopted the most soothing tone she could as she kept her eyes locked with his. Taking slow, small steps toward him, she tried to figure a way out of this. Setting the medkit aside as she walked, she tried her hardest not to spook him into anything rash like ingesting the chip. There was no reversing that. There was no antidote.

"Beverly...e'lev, I can't. It was all for nothing. My own people used me to get to the Enterprise. I nearly caused all of your deaths and started the war I was trying to stop, all because I couldn't tell the difference between fiction and fact." A tear rolled down the Admiral's cheek and his hand shook. "I will never see my baby girl grow up. I will not be there when she welcomes a child of her own into the world. I will never see Romulus again! I cannot face this alone."

"You aren't alone, I promise." She was almost close enough to touch him, now. "Alidar, for as long as you will permit me, I will stay by your side. I will help you through this to the best of my ability, but you have to be willing to give me a chance."

He started to shake his head, but she was close enough to caress his face and look deep into his eyes.

"Try...for me..." she begged feeling tears burning in the corners of her own eyes as she spoke. "Please."

After a long moment, there was a quiet 'clack' as the chip fell from his grip and landed on the floor. Almost before she could process that he'd moved, the Admiral grasped the Doctor's waist and caught her lips in a desperate, damp kiss which she returned just as fervently.

Relief cascaded through her. She wasn't going to lose him today.

Any remaining shreds of the decorum the two had maintained over the course of their two-day journey faded rapidly into nothing, shattered by the overwhelming need for both to hold and be held, to love and be loved.

Their aborted intimacy from before was not to be stopped this time. Clothing fell in crumpled piles, removed by desperate hands and delicate fingers, each on a quest to reassure themselves and each other that they were not alone.

With their uniforms stripped away, their duties cast aside, they were no longer Romulan and Human. They were merely lovers partaking of each other, filling the room with the sounds of their joining.

~*~

Taglist:

@akamitrani @android-boyfriends @attention-bajoranworkers @bigblissandlove1 @darkmattervibes

@emilie786 @groovyqueer @horta-in-charge @live-logs-and-proper @rookietrek

@slutty-slutty-vulcans @starrynightgardens @toebeans-mcgee

#deepspacedukat fic #Beverly Crusher x Alidar Jarok

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lucifra-writes · 1 year ago

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Stricture was not, strictly speaking, aligned with the normal back-and-forth of superhero combat.

This is not to say that they weren’t as involved in the not-quite comic book world that they lived in as, say, Revelry or Gaius, but that they were much less conspicuous about it than the colorful hero and would-be conqueror.

Stricture was seen as a powerful telekinetic, albeit one whose lack of range and mobility stopped them from fighting above the figurative street level, preferring to work urban rescue and repair, where the limitations of human speeds were more boon than bane and a telekinetic was always welcome.

They were very, very good at it, too- San Sabas was not a big city, per se, but it was one of the few of its size where real estate could consistently afford to experiment with its architectural designs.

The fact that San Sabas was also known for its near-zero cape combat death rate was brushed off, credit given to a well-oiled team of first responders (which, to be fair, was a cut above the rest- that had been one of the first things that Stricture had done upon getting their power- making them that much faster, that much smarter, that much luckier- not egregiously so, but enough to make a difference) and the energy pattern surrounding the empowered statue of Asclepius that stood in front of the hospital (once again, their doing, albeit less directly- Pantheon wasn’t exactly easy to get a hold of, but they repaid kindness with like).

All of that- the low death rate, the infrastructure, the economic growth that the kind of safety brought- made San Sabas a very attractive city, for both ordinary people and those who thought they’d be able to take it for their own.

Case in point, Gaius.

The man’s power, self-duplication, was almost secondary to the terrifying tactical acumen he applied to it, and when combined with his relationship with Clockwork and Ironclad providing his copies with enhanced equipment, it was hardly surprising that he’d been the one to pacify the hellhole that Detroit had become in the years since the last of the auto manufacturers had left the city behind, and from there he’d slowly expanded, one of the few villainous warlords to hold territory in more than one city.

And now he was coming to San Sabas.

“You can’t fight Gaius, he’s too dangerous,” said Tesselate, her half-donned, almost hypnotically-patterned uniform seeming to blend into her flesh to human eyes.

“And you can?” returned Stricture, one eyebrow raised as they zipped up the janitor’s jumpsuit that served as their work uniform, just as it had before their life had become so complicated.

“Better than you! At least I have half a hope in hell of hypnotizing the whole damn collective at once if I get the chance!”

Stricture sighed, the leashed anger in their chest draining away as they heard the bravado papering over the fear in Tesselate’s voice. “You’ll do your part, I’ll do mine. Trust in that, if nothing else.”

“No, stop, you can’t- think about what you’re doing. You can’t go into the front lines against Gaius, that’s suicide! Even for you!”

“I’m done thinking.” Stricture made direct eye contact with the girl, feeling the anger swell back up again as they felt as much as heard Gaius’ boots on the asphalt. “I’ve spent my whole cape career thinking, doing nothing but repair work and catching muggers, all the while doing nothing of importance. No, it’s time for me to finally act, stand in defense of this city and my people.”

Something about the look in Stricture’s eye intimidated the girl out of replying further.

-----

One of the less convenient side effects of Stricture’s power was that they had to rely solely on the strength of their own body to convey them from place to place. If placed in a car, they would merely phase through the vehicle if it moved any faster than a running pace, flight was off the table outside of certain powers (before Flock’s retirement, Stricture had enjoyed working with the man and his ability to cause anyone to sprout wings of energy), and teleportation was right out.

All this to say that Stricture was stuck jogging to the battleground that Gaius had chosen, aware of every drop of blood spilled and scrap of cloth torn but unable to act on that knowledge.

Every body that hit the ground, never to rise again, was burned into Stricture's awareness.

Fortunately, their city bred sterner heroes than most, and despite the conqueror's best efforts, most of the defenders were still alive and kicking (if in disadvantageous positions) by the time that Stricture finally managed to get to a point where the center of the fight was within range of their power.

It was Catspaw who noticed their efforts first, energy constructs swiping through the path of a spear just a breath too late to deflect the weapon aimed for their controller's leg- but after being abruptly yanked to the left, they did succeed in sending the hurled weapon spinning from its intended trajectory, still sweeping Catspaw's leg out from under her but not rending the flesh it struck as it would have otherwise. As the hero hit the ground, breath hissing out through clenched teeth, she dragged herself upright, allowing herself a moment of vindictive glee at the arrival of Stricture before she righted the mask and attendant cat ear headband upon her head and sweeping her bodysuit-clad arms, directing spectral cats to take the offensive.

As time went on, the beleaguered heroes started to get less beleaguered- not because their flagging bodies were being bolstered, no, but because Gaius' various clones were disappearing, to various levels of notice.

While most of this was from Stricture's efforts in tandem with the heroes', breaking the villain's perfect coordination by inches that he couldn't afford and destroying the expressions of his power with his own attacks, some of it was more along the lines of Gaius' plans.

This, naturally, didn't become known to the heroes until the clone popped out over the edge of the roof of the bank they were fighting in front of, a massive launcher held over his shoulder, and fired.

Clones were shredded at the epicenter of the blast, and farther out the massive concussion blast hurled the combatants embroiled in the melee every which way, and while Stricture managed to prevent any heroes from outright dying, they weren't quite fast enough to keep most of them in the fight, some combination of concussions and broken bones sweeping all of the heroes save for Catspaw (whose constructs were more than capable of cushioning their fall) off the playing field, so to speak.

"You've fought well," said Gaius through too many mouths, and Stricture's teeth ground together as the clones arranged themselves around the fallen heroes. They all gestured grandly to their hero, gestures tailored based on the individual positioning relative to said hero. "You are to be commended for that, before your lives are released to Hades."

"I," said Stricture, striding directly towards the edge of the circle around them, "say that you will not get to kill anyone else today.

The clones that were moving to intercept the hero crumpled like so many soda cans in a hydraulic press.

Some of the others raised weapons to point at Stricture, a barrage of bullets, energy blasts, and other projectiles all failing to get within two feet of the humbly-clothed hero.

A moment into the fruitless barrage, Gaius stopped firing, and cried out "Halt, or your fellow heroes will be slain!"

As if to put word to deed, the sound of energy discharge was replaced with the whining of capacitors charging themselves and guns being cocked.

Undeterred, Stricture strode forwards, eyes fixed on the instance of Gaius standing in front of the bank but no words forthcoming.

"You leave me no choice, then," said Gaius, who stuck his hand out in front of him and pointed his thumb down in the style of the gladiatorial arenas of Rome.

Instead of dying, though, the heroes remained completely unmolested, and the clones started to die like the first one that Stricture had ended- that is, with splashes of blood on the ground that rapidly vaporized to leave nothing behind.

"This is my city, Roman," said Stricture, still advancing. "You have no right to demand ownership here. Leave now, or suffer the consequences."

Faced with overwhelming power the likes of which he was not prepared to overcome, Gaius left, clones vanishing with the sound of steel on steel and taking their equipment with them, leaving a street covered in heroes and rubble behind.

With the immediate threat gone, the heroes (or at least those conscious to do so) turned to look at Stricture, who sighed.

"I told you, I will stand in defense of this city. Just because I'm slower to get to the fight doesn't mean I can't still end it. Now just hold tight, the ambulances are on their way."

With that, Stricture turned away from the other heroes and started gesturing, directing rubble around the former battlefield to clean things up just as they always had.

-----

And that's that!

Kinda ran out of steam at the end, but I felt it had to be done to fully respond to the prompt.

If you want to support me as a writer, I’ve got me a Ko-fi (https://ko-fi.com/lucifra) and a Patreon (https://www.patreon.com/Lucifra), and if you become a patron, you can see my chapters a week early, plus for this fic see two chapters not available on other platforms yet.

Speaking of which, my thanks to NotableRonin, Mtron, AntaeusTheGiant and Ember for being patrons!

I also have a discord sir ver for author stuff- if you have questions or comments that you'd like a more direct , that's another option: https://discord.gg/NHRUKz8jy

That’s about it, so read, review, enjoy, and have a nice day!

"Stop. Think about what you're doing."

"I'm done thinking. I've spent my whole life thinking and all the while doing nothing. It's time for me to finally act."

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benefits1986 · 1 year ago

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Unsafe Space Unplugged

The 90s never ends and so does high school.

One of Grey's Anatomy's iconic lines said it best. High school never ends. It's not in verbatim because too tamad to scour the actual line. I'm on limited time today and for the rest of Q4 and I am not complaining.

I felt weird on my way to the office as I had a long break with no work laptop and phone. My dad was on full basher-troll-trashtalker mode when he sees me smuggling my work devices. 'Wag daw muna akong magpabinat kasi 'di naman mauubos ang work. In fact, madadagdagan pa. Being in operations and leading around a hundred people while servicing over 300 clients daily during his last decade at work, dad knew that our generation is off to a crazy and stressful career path. Sabi pa niya, grabe na talaga ang pressure and that he is actually happy that he retired before COVID happened.

Dad had so many chances to be promoted for regional operations. Ayaw lang niya talaga. He wants a simple path. Ganun lang talaga. And he felt like he was just a basic boss who abhors meetings. Mas gusto niya sa grounds. His managers admire his ways that even when he had to take a 1-month leave to be with mom in the hospital, he got a promotion during that year. Dad wondered why he got promoted. When mom was able to recuperate after her 2-week coma, she told dad that she prayed in her dreams. HUY. Why am I on the cusp of crying so early in the morning again? HUY. Hahahahaha. Not today, Satan. Not today. Maraming labada. Excited and extra challenged po tayo.

Monday mayhem... back at it in the office that greeted me with parols, mock gift boxes, Christmas tree with dancing lights. Shemay. Cheers to my most unfavorited time of the year as a scrooge. LOL. Pasko na nga pala. At tuloy ang laban to the finish. CHZ. Naka-zero percent na 'yan. :D

I'm dressing girly because 'yung chixx na gusto ko, gusto niya girly. I can adjust. I am adjusting. This is negotiable. LOL. Ligawan ko na ba siya? I don't ligaw. UGH. Gusto ko, ako 'yung nililigawan. Hahahahaha. So, sa mga nagtanong bakit girly ako this season, 'yan lang 'yung sagot. Periodt. Sana maging chixx ko na siya exclusively. Abangan! Nag-share na siya ng calendar niya until December, so scope na natin ang billable man hours. CHZ. EMZ. Project manage mode with phases po tayo. Landi. Hahahaha. Minsan lang ako talaga magka-crush at magkapake sa mga tao in landi light e as a sungit-walang pake being.

Para maiba naman ang ihip ng hangin... I guess... not. :p Side Note: Had an online kamustahan turned deep dive with someone who's a former ka-thing of mine. Unique ang connection namin kasi even when things didn't go as planned, we kept the friendship. See? Mature relationships work. And, I'm so glad that we still have that safe space wherein, 'pag may nararamdaman ako na hindi siya okay, magkwento na siya and seek advice so kahit 'di kami mag-usap ng 6 months+, we're okay. And talking to her, I felt that what I decided on a few years back was the best decision I made as a mature person. Hahahahahahaha. Nahataw ko pa kasi napaka immature pa rin niya pero I feel like it's her time to make things better na talaga for real. I pray for her and all her shit shows to end. Need lang talaga niya to make the choice and act on each of them ASAP. Ngayon din. Now na. Kung 'di bibigwasan ko na naman siya ng malala with kindness She taught me how to open up and in fairness, maganda siya mag-take ng photos kasi she follows my instructions down to the letter, nanginginig pa. Plus points sa sipag mag-drive at kahit bobo ako mag-Waze, wala siya reklamo sa 98-KM detour. Hahahahahahahaha. Also, sa kanya ako natuto mag-sorry. Not bad for my 30s as a milestone, right? Hahahahahahaha. Bobo ko talaga. :p

We welcomed a new team mate. My first hire in my four years in the org. Alam mo 'yung feeling na super start up pero in a corporate set up with so many moving parts? I feel giddy. Giddy up. Ems. But, seriously, I guess this is where I am supposed to be for now. I hope that our team will able to hit the KPIs and more importantly, find meaning in why we've come together.

I've said these so many times... I am a believer of healing together. :) And during one of the sessions, a few team members opened up. Puro kasi kami introverts na may certain weirdness. Fan din ako ng weird and dark horse vibe, so this is up my alley. I really love seeing dark horses outshine the white horses. Alam mo 'yung internal KPI ko? Simple lang. Seeing introverts speak their minds, spirits and hearts out and proudly kahit kabado. As in. Sheer joy siya sa akin. Parang mga anak ko sila na natutong maglakad and tumakbo. :D Sabi na, donut who seeks peace of mind talaga career path ko e. And nung kinamusta ako, sabi ko sa team, oks lang. Kamusta raw sakit ko. Me to myself: Paguusapan talaga natin ang shithole na 'yun? Andito na ako 'di ba? I'm fucking back at it. But syempre, okayyyyy, be compassionate. Hahahahaha. I answered, because I got sick and knocked out, naging Swiftie - TV x Reputation edition na po ako. Nagulat and may pa-welcome pa in the form of a Gen Z's pa-friendship bracelet. I love working with Gen Z's talaga. Hahahahha. As in. Ewan ko. Kasi I love learning and looking at my naive self. Parang that's how I pay it forward.

That days and nights will definitely be longer and darker. However, maganda sagot nung head of the heads namin sa team. Matulog. Magpahinga. Holler for help. And keep the faith. Opak. Iba rin talaga naggagawa ng authentic servant leadership e. I don't get it back then since I don't check org charts. Hahahahahhahahaha. Sorry na ulit 1000000 times.

It's not gonna be easy. Wala naman talagang madaling work. But sabi nga ng boss ko, it's how a team powers through. HUY. :p Bakit nai-in love na naman yata ako sa work? POTACCA. Umayos ka. Do not be a workaholic bitch na naman in this lifetime. Paki usap. Channel your energy wisely.

Unsafe spaces are triggers that can turn into glimmers through choosing your battles and finding your tribe. It's a bloody encounter but it's super duper worth your while; so make your tribe vibe and deliver with compassion, kamalditahan with kindness, hefty Gen MZ vibes and of course, empathy in action + inclusion.

After over a decade, mental health advocacy is no longer taboo. So, sige, let's share our vulnerabilities as we down more small and big wins alongside accepting our limitations and learning from our mistakers and mishaps. Ito ang salita ni Lorde. At sumainyo rin. Let's go Tuesday! :)

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indiejones · 1 year ago

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BRIEF INSIGHTS INTO 'METHOD ACTING' (OR AS MANY EXPERTS CALL 'METHOD THAT WORKS ACTING'), FROM THE STREAM'S WIDELY REGARDED GREATS (AS KNOWN & POPULAR AMONG INDIAN CONNOISSEURS) - RAJESH KHANNA, DILIP KUMAR, GERARD DEPARDIEU & MARLON BRANDO!

The profession of acting & cinema per se, is as widely agreed, going through it's worst phase ever since inception, the world over, brought on largely by a lack of good quality scripts & emotional ideas, but equally by a dwindling class of acting talent.

So thought to share few learnings & revelations of mine & of those around, through the limited & vague memories, of the few yrs participating in & observing professional theater, & the many now forgotten yrs prior in the school & college amateur theater circuit, as also from our time in Acting School from eons back, for whatever little it's worth, coming from this professional dropout-

The roots of the rot, so to say, that in my opinion, lie in the false understanding around the concept of 'Method Acting' that sprung up with noticeably high fanfare sometime in the 1970's back in the USA, & that as Gerard Depardieu once said, something along the lines of ~"corrupted the world of cinema with ideas of B-Grade greatness (or the idea of "great acting for & by dummies")".

Let's try to understand this sentence, via an analysis of the widely-regarded "natural greats" of world cinema. Both the Indian legends, Rajesh Khanna & Dilip Kumar, were well into their prime or past their prime resp, when this theory took hold on world cinema psyche. And cannot in any way be said to 've been influenced by it's influx. Yet that continue to be the biggest flag-bearers of it's ideals of "natural greatness", only at it's very zenith, and not in it's struggling nether regions. Ie Espousing the natural most impactful portrayal of diverse expression, AT TOP OF THE EMOTIONAL LADDER. This 'height' of emotion, a representation of the higher human chakras (earlier a part of just Hindu scripture, but now a universally taught & disseminated advanced human knowledge field), that believe it not, control human action & evolution through life. The higher the chakra domain or the preponderancy of one's operation, the finer yet more sensitive the experience &/or output.

And it's REACHING THIS HIGHER STAGE OR LEVEL OF, EXPERIENCE OF EMOTION OR PERCEPTION OR STIMULATION OR STIMULUS, FOR THE CHARACTER & ONESELF, that this entire 'Method (That Works) Acting' rigmarole ought be focused on. Yet a focus that continued on then & continues to be so today even, on recreating any damn emotion just for the heck of it, on 'anything that triggers a instant mass response, whatever it's quality', totally ignoring the inter-connected & infact most essential finer human experiential field of study embedded within ie being penny wise & pound foolish, in spending inordinate amounts of time & energy & resources over the carrier & seemingly nothing over the purpose & the ultimate goal.

Let's highlight this via few anecdotal illustrations from times of the greatest of greats:

1. Rajesh Khanna, inarguably the most naturally gifted method actor of all time, for the sheer volume & frequency & very high range of his highest imaginable quality work, churning out 6 films on avg per yr, thru his 25-30 yr lead career, would at times display a major handicap in lip-syncing few songs or dancing to them! Recalls Seema Deo, his co-star from 'Anand', on how Kaka could just never remember the lyrics from this film's songs, so finally came up with the trick of writing down every different line of the lyrics on big paper sheets, positioned at different places behind the camera per his direction, so could gaze at them during the shot & perform them with the best feel & effect! Reena Roy, his regular 80's co-star too recalls Kaka's handicap at not being able to do many dance movements, howsoever physically easy they were, for 'lack of proper feel from within to instigate those actions', for which he would come up with howlarious tricks of placing spot boys at different spots behind the camera, shouting out the funniest emotional interpretations to those lines & movements, that somehow worked for him, in instigating the desired dance steps!

2. Marlon Brando, though more famous for his darker roles, had a similar problem, for which reportedly too adopted similar above methods.

3. Dilip Kumar had another problem in not being satisfied with attaining the desired 'satisfactory naturalness' for his dialogues, often landing up inaudably mumbling his lines in btwn, taking avg 25 takes per line/shot all career, to get right!

4. Depardieu, further deep into this pit, just couldn't get himself to say certain few lines of written scripts,at all,ever! Fed up with which, had to take to writing as parallel occupation, to let out all on paper, he just couldn't get himself to physically say!

Point of blog being, to h/l how the method is a mere petty means, while understanding the dimension & depth of subject is the key.

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tswaney17 · 3 years ago

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I Do Bad Things with You - Part 32

Hello! Yes, this fic is alive. It's only been since November since it was last posted... 🙈 Life has been chaotic, to say the least. Anyways, this part is beast. And I mean a beast. I highly recommend grabbing a snack and a drink because 13K words later, well, here we are. Please enjoy this rollercoaster, sexy monstrosity. Also, ignore any missed edits. These longer pieces are a bitch to proofread. 😂💙💚💜

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Catch up here.

Credit to @featherymalignancy for Cassian’s nickname, Cash. 😘

Trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault, language, NSFW

Word Count: 13,459

Elain was ecstatic—if not maybe a little nervous—to be heading back to work today. It wasn’t as if she was intimidated to get back into the swing of things. She was a damn good surgeon and she knew it. But today was the day that she would be meeting all the new residents that had come on board since her absence and would fall under her wing to learn from her and Thesan for the next two years.

And that in itself was a bit frightening. To have somebody learn from you, in an environment where a simple mistake could result in another’s death was stressful. Elain knew that this step in her career was coming, but now that it was here—well, the pressure had finally set in.

“Good morning, my love,” Azriel said, for the umpteenth time that morning, slipping up behind her in the kitchen to wrap his arms around her waist and hauled her into his chest. His Rolex dangled loosely from his beautifully, scarred fingertips. Warm, soft lips pressed onto her cheek in a gentle kiss.

Having none of that, Elain twisted her head to capture his mouth, inviting him to kiss her properly—one he took full advantage of, letting his tongue sweep between her lips, tangling with hers. “Good morning,” she repeated, smiling.

Having sensed her nerves earlier, the couple spent a good portion of their morning lounging about their bed, where the wicked male helped her relax with those masterful fingers again. Testing her limits, Elain now sported a hickey on the underneath side of her left breast, much to his masculine pride.

She found it surprisingly erotic to be marked by him—something she had never previously found appealing.

“How are you feeling now?” he asked, releasing her to snap his watch onto his wrist. He set to pour their coffee.

Elain leaned back against the counter, content to watch him flutter about the kitchen in a suit that did nothing to hide his extremely toned behind. “Better than this morning. Still a bit nervous, but I think that’s to be expected.”

“Is that why you’re checking out my ass?” he asked, quirking a brow as he looked at her over his shoulder. A cheeky grin found its way onto his face.

Her cheeks flushed with color at being caught, but she didn’t even dare try to hide it. “Am I not allowed to check you out as your girlfriend?” she teased, taking the coffee mug he offered to her and sipping. Gods, every time he made it perfect.

Azriel contemplated his words, ones she assumed he was trying to determine if they would cross a line with her. He must’ve decided they didn’t because he said, “Of course not. You’re more than welcome to look, touch, kiss, lick, or suck, whatever you want of mine.”

Elain’s face went as red as the tomatoes sitting in a basket on the counter to ripen. “Azriel!” she chastised, smacking his arm, but she was laughing and so was he. Laughing because his comment relieved the remaining nerves from her body. “How did you know that comment would help?” she finally asked him.

He took a step closer, brushing his knuckles over her cheek as he tucked her hair behind her ear. “Because I know you. And I know how your mind works. It’s not inappropriate comments that make you uncomfortable, it’s the physical acts that we’re working through. It felt like safe ground.”

She took his hand from her cheek, kissing his palm. “Thank you for that. I needed it. And this morning.”

A soft smile graced his handsome face. “Always, my love.”

Grabbing her bags from the table, Elain took his extended hand as they headed for the elevator.

“I’m working a half-day at the office and then I’ll be remote for the remainder of it. So, I’ll take care of dinner. Nuala will pick you up from work tonight.”

She raised a brow. “You’ve been remote for two weeks and you’re already remoting again?”

“As long as the work gets done, what’s the difference,” he shrugged. “Besides, I have some stuff I need to get done here anyways.”

Elain shot him a questioning look but the bastard just winked at her. She huffed, rolling her eyes. So, he wasn’t planning on telling her. Well then. “Nuala doesn’t need to pick me up,” she began as the elevator doors pinged open to the garage level.

It was Azriel’s turn to give her a curious look. “If I’m dropping you off, and Nuala doesn’t pick you up, how do you plan on getting home, my dear?” he asked, bringing her hand up to his mouth to kiss her knuckles.

She knew he’d never allow it, but she said, “You know, there are these large vehicular modes of transportation that run throughout the city known as buses. And one stops right up the street from your place.”

Azriel came to an abrupt stop, forcing her to as well. She pivoted on her heels to face him, too many emotions on his face for her to place. “First off, smartass,” he said in a playful tone, “I know what a bus is and no, you will not be taking those to and from work. I have a vehicle to drop you off and pick you up or people who can.”

She raised her brows. “I don’t need to be carted to work.”

“Then I will buy you a car to drive,” he said simply. “That’s not the point. Buses are unreliable and not safe—”

“More people are in car accidents than bus accidents, let me remind you,” she said firmly.

He huffed out a breath. “That’s not…that’s isn’t what I meant, Elain.” At her furrowed brow, he elaborated, “Yes, we’ve eliminated one threat, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t others out there. We’re together now, love.” His thumb brushed over the soft skin of her knuckles. “That exposes you to my world and makes you—”

Azriel cut off his words, but Elain finished them for him. “A liability.”

“That’s not what I was going to say.”

“But that’s what I am. I’m a liability for you. Something that can be held against you.”

He brought his hands to cup her jaw. “You are not a liability, Elain. But once word gets around that we are together, and believe me, it will get out fast, bits of my past will look curiously at you. To see if they can use you as leverage. And I will do everything in my power to protect you from that; which means I need you to trust me on this and not take unnecessary risks. I know that you don’t like to feel like a burden, but you aren’t causing any hindrance on anyone. Cerridwen and Nuala drive me around already and I’ve previously spoken to them about this, and I will likely keep the Moonbeam twins on my payroll to pick up any extra slack we may need.”

She supposed she didn’t think about it like that. Didn’t think that Azriel would still have other enemies even with Hybern dead. But given his history and who he was, perhaps it was foolish of her to not realize it. She had told him in the hospital that she knew of the risks of being with him, but it was different when those risks were presented at the moment. It was something she said thinking about the future, not considering what could come from his past. Elain gripped his wrist. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Azriel dropped his forehead to hers. “You don’t need to apologize to me, love. I asked you to push back on me and that’s what you did. Even with your snarky little attitude,” he chuckled, kissing the tip of her nose.

She stuck her tongue out at him for the comment, earning a playful grin in return.

“I would feel more comfortable with you in a car than taking the bus,” he said again, reiterating his point.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

She smiled softly up at him. “Okay, I won’t take the bus. I’ll continue to be dropped off and picked up at work.” Because like hell was she letting him buy her a car.

He tilted his head down just slightly, nudging her nose once, then pressed their lips together. The kiss was sweet and slow. Like dripping honey. Pulling away, his thumb stroked her jaw once, twice, three times, before he stepped just out of her embrace.

“Now, the second thing we need to discuss from that statement is that this is our place, Elain. Not mine. The moment you agreed to stay with me and that extra dresser was moved into our bedroom, the penthouse became our home. It’s no longer just mine. I want you to see it as yours too.”

He was adamant in wanting her to view the penthouse not as his place, but as their home together. The way his eyes tracked her, how they flicked over her face looking for any hesitancy or regret. But she had none of that—felt none of it. Elain was overwhelmingly happy. With him, with where they were at and how they were living. And his words just reiterated how much he loved her and she loved him.

So, she squeezed his hand, giving him one of her more joyous smiles. “Of course, I see it as our home, Az. I didn’t want to assume, but it’s nice to know that you think of it as ours too.”

“Everything of mine is ours now, Elain. All of it. I want to make that perfectly clear.”

Her brown eyes slid to the sports car parked next to his SUV. She gave him a feline grin. “So, when you say everything, does that include the red, little, Ferrari over there?” she nodded towards the parked car.

“Yes,” he said simply.

Elain’s eyes went wide. “Az, I was kidding.”

“I’m not. I meant it when I said everything. If you want to take the car out that’s fine—though you can drive a stick still, right? I taught you in high school, but have you driven one since? I don’t want you crashing it.”

“Worried about your car?” she teased.

He flicked her nose earning a hiss and a bat to his hand. “Not the car, brat. Mother, you’re feisty this morning.”

She chuckled, taking a sip of coffee.

“I don’t care about the car getting wrecked, but I would prefer if my future wife didn’t—”

Elain choked, both swallowing and inhaling the scalding liquid.

“Shit, El!” he swore, coming around to smack her back as she coughed.

Her eyes watered as she hacked, awful sounds coming deep from her chest. Once she finally dislodged the coffee from her lungs, she whirled on him. “What did you say?” she hissed.

Az smirked. “You honestly can’t tell me you’re surprised by the comment, love.”

“We’ve been together for like two weeks! Official for a weekend.” Don’t get her wrong, she knew down in her very bones that Azriel was the only one for her. But thinking those words in her head and having them said out loud were two completely different things.

He slid his hand to her jaw, cupping the side of her face. “Technically, we’ve been together for over two and a half years—”

“High school doesn’t count,” she countered.

His brows furrowed in a frown. “Why not? That’s where we met. When we started dating. How we got together. In my book, that counts for a lot.”

Elain tugged him towards the car, so they wouldn’t be late. “But we broke up.”

Azriel unlocked the car and opened her door for her. “Breaking up doesn’t negate our entire relationship. I still know you, or we still know each other. The memories are still there.” He tucked her hair behind her ear. “After everything we’ve been through, Elain, there’s nobody else I’d want at my side for the rest of my life. You’re my forever person—and no, I’m not asking you to marry me right now, but eventually we’ll get there.”

His words sank deep into her heart, finding a home and settling there. Reaching up for the lapels of his jacket, she brought their mouths together, fusing them into a light, loving kiss. “You’re my forever person, too. I want you to know that.”

“I do.”

Her fingers went up to trace his jaw, felt the stubble of his skin. “Perhaps we keep that piece to ourselves then, for just a little bit longer.”

His face crinkled with a frown. “You don’t want people knowing that we’re looking towards marriage.”

“Yet,” she said, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it gently. “Not yet. I know that it doesn’t matter what other people think, but when you put it into the perspective that some might see it—”

“What perspective is that, baby? I’m afraid I’m not following.”

She licked her lips, wetting them as she delayed her response. This was a conversation she knew she’d eventually have to have with Azriel, a piece of her past from Graysen that she still fought tremendously to overcome the emotional toll it took on her. One he threw back in her face the night at the club. Gods, she was forever grateful that Az was a patient male with her as he simply waited for her to gather her thoughts. “It doesn’t take much to see what this relationship could look like to others.” At his continued puzzled face, she sighed. “You’re wealthy, Az. Immensely so. And I’m a second-year resident with thousands of dollars in student loan debt. It’s bound to have a few people questioning my motives.”

Those awful words echoed in her head. Gold-digging whore. Unable to look him in the eye, she dropped her gaze to his chest, inspected the starch-pressed linen of his white button-down.

Azriel subtly moved closer to her, his hands sliding onto her shoulders, up her neck, and tilted her head back to force her to look at his face. “Elain, do not, for one second, let what that ass-wipe of an ex said to make you think that this relationship is based on anything but love. I know that that is not what you’re here for—and we shouldn’t allow what others want to think or believe about our relationship to dictate how we live it.” His thumbs stroked her jaw.

“I know I shouldn’t. It’s just sometimes hard for me to not hear his voice saying those words in my head.”

He was silent for a moment, until, “The ones he said at the club?”

Elain shook her head yes as best as she could with it being cradled between his palms.

“Fuck him,” he said vehemently. “He only was saying those things to hurt you, not because they’re true.”

“They’re kind of true,” she whispered. “I let him pay for part of my schooling. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t afford it and didn’t have the credit for a loan at the time. He pushed me into paying for it, but I don’t think I would’ve been here without it.”

“Then I will be, regretfully, grateful that he did one, minuscule thing to help you achieve your dream. But that does not give him any right to call you such vile, untrue things, because that’s what those words are, Elain. Untrue, empty words. And he’s a piece of shit for saying them.” He glanced down at his watch. “Look, I don’t want to end this conversation here, but you’re going to be late if we don’t leave now. Can we pause this and pick it up tonight over dinner?”

She knew where that conversation would lead, discussions about finances and money. And frankly, Elain knew that they needed to have it since they were living together, but their vastly different statuses made her stomach uneasy. Because she knew Az would want to financially support her. It was in his nature to want to take care of her.

And it was in her nature to take care of herself.

But she put on her best smile and agreed. “Okay, we can finish up later.”

He didn’t buy it, she knew it, and she knew he knew it too. But he didn’t make a fuss—simply kissed her again before holding the door open wider for her to allow her to slip into the passenger seat.

Feeling her disconnect, Azriel held her hand, thumbs stroking her knuckles the entire ride to the hospital. “I’ll see you tonight. I love you, Elain.”

Not wanting to leave with this uncomfortable space between them, she unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned across the center console. Gripping him by the knot of his tie, Elain pulled him in for a kiss. It was an urgent, press of lips; meshing love and words together.

He groaned lightly, hand coming up to cup her jaw. “I love you too, Az. I’ll see you tonight.”

She dropped one more chaste kiss to his lips before climbing out of the car.

“Have a good day!” he called before the door shut behind her.

Elain waived at him, making her way into the building that was like a second home for her. And was immediately ambushed by Viviane.

“Elain!” she squealed running over to her but stopped before embracing her. She would be forever grateful to the head nurse for becoming one of her closest friends and knowing what she had previously been through. Knew that perhaps she wouldn’t want to be touched.

But Azriel had been so good with her, so patient and helpful in coaxing her through her healing, that Elain had no issues pulling Viv into a tight hug.

Startled, it took the nurse a split second before she wrapped her arms around her. She let out a choked sound. “You’re okay?”

She gave her a beaming smile. “I am. Healing, yes, but okay.”

“And you’re fine with my touching you? Hugging you?”

Elain nodded. “I am.” The bleached blonde gave her a feline smile, one that promised trouble, but before she could pop off with whatever comment was brewing on her tongue, she stated, “Thesan is expecting me this morning. So, not to cut this short, but I really should get running to see him.”

Viv’s brow raised as she huffed a dramatic sigh. “Don’t think you’re going to get away without giving me the details, Archeron. I’ll get them one way or another!” she hollered down the hallway at Elain’s retreating figure.

She could only shake her head, passing through the doors to the employee locker room to drop off her bags before making her way to Thesan’s office. Elain knocked on the open door to announce her presence.

The dark male peered up at her, a bright smile gracing his beautiful face. He would have been probably the most beautiful male Elain had ever met, had she not known Azriel.

And then maybe Rhys.

“Elain,” he breathed, rising from his chair. “Welcome back.” He came around his desk to embrace her. “Please take a seat.”

She did, crossing her legs and folding her hands in her lap.

“How are you feeling?”

She smiled, leaning back in her seat. “I feel good. Refreshed and ready to get back to work.”

“Excellent news. Well, based on your healing progress from when I removed your stitches last week, I’ve cleared you physically for duty. However, based on the traumatic event you experienced, you’ll still need to get cleared by a psychologist for surgical procedures. I have scheduled you a follow-up with Dr. Towers this morning at nine.”

Elain couldn’t help but deflate at the news. She didn’t think she’d have to be cleared for duty by a psychologist, but she supposed since enough people knew what had happened, it was bound to get around the trauma she dealt with. “Okay.” She really just wanted to get back to work.

“I know it isn’t what you wanted to hear today, but I don’t have any doubt you’ll pass with flying colors.”

She nodded, still put out.

“Now, let’s talk residents.”

That had her perking up.

Thesan gave her a knowing smile. “I wanted to introduce you this morning to the four new residents that will fall under your wing for the next two years, however, I was just notified of a department head meeting that starts in a few. So, I won’t be able to do that. I’ve informed Viviane, but I’m going to send you down to do rotations for consultations until your check-in with Yrene. The residents will join you on rotations. Introduce yourself, feel them out. You’re the leader, but don’t be afraid to put them on the spot and ask them questions.” He pulled out a file and handed it to her. “Here’s a brief overview of each resident—where they went to school, their specialties, who recommended them, etcetera. Give it a once-over before you head back down.”

Elain flipped open the file, thumbing through the documents inside. “When do they come in?” she finally asked, not bothering to look up from the folder in her lap.

“About fifteen minutes.”

It wasn’t a whole lot of time to familiarize herself with four individuals, but she’d been put under more stressful environments before.

Thesan slid his chair back, rising from his seat. “Feel free to stick around as you peruse their file.” He came around and clamped a large hand on her shoulder. “It’s a pleasure to have you back, Elain. You were dearly missed.”

Her head snapped up to look at her advisor. Saw the fondness in his eyes—on his face. “Thank you, Thesan. I’m happy to finally be back.”

Something glinted in his dark gaze, and she knew that whatever he was about to say next wasn’t coming from her boss, but as a close confidant.

A friend.

“And he’staking care of you?”

Elain was taken aback by the slight hostility in his tone of voice. Azriel had mentioned there was a brief encounter between him and her boss when they brought her to the hospital. Nothing to be concerned about, but perhaps he wasn’t letting on just how much her boss had drilled him about what had happened to her. “Yea—yes. He’s been wonderful to me.”

His shoulders loosened slightly at her words, appeased, but not completely satisfied.

She wondered if he’d ever be fine with Azriel given what had happened to her. The thought didn’t sit well with her and Elain made a point to try and mend whatever relationship she could salvage between the two males.

He gave her shoulder another reassuring squeeze before leaving her to her thoughts.

Elain watched him go, brows furrowed. A problem for another day, she realized. Returning her attention to the folder, she resumed her review of the new residents, before she went down to begin her rotations.

~~~

Exhaustion is what she felt, and it was barely nine in the morning. She supposed two weeks away from surgical residency, lounging about with your boyfriend would do that to you. Granted, she was healing an injury, so it wasn’t like she could maintain an active lifestyle with her leg. She prodded the nearly healed thigh wound, now slightly aching from the amount of time she spent on her feet already. Maybe she’d be able to convince Az to massage it out tonight.

Elain snorted at the thought. She wouldn’t even have the sentence out of her mouth and he’d have her on the dining room table, hands working out the muscle. Her body shivered at the thought of those marvelous, wicked hands, attached to strong forearms corded in veined muscle. Tattooed biceps.

She shook her head, snapping herself out of her pleasured daydream before she spiraled into something that required someone else to fix and knocked on the door in front of her.

“Come in!” came Yrene’s chirped voice.

Elain shouldered the door open, revealing an office she was all too familiar with. Cream walls with blue accents. Lively plants were scattered throughout. A window behind Yrene’s desk and one near the sofa and two chairs allowed for plenty of natural light. It was inviting and warm, and all-around welcoming. Everything that a psychologist’s office should be.

So, why Elain felt like she was being called into the principal’s office was beyond her. She’d been in here plenty of times, was comfortable talking to Yrene as both a patient-therapist relationship and a friend. But it felt different when your job was on the line. And there wasn’t anything she wanted more right now than to get back to work.

To find some semblance of normalcy to return to.

“Elain,” Yrene smiled brightly. “Welcome, welcome! Please take a seat over there. Let me just grab my things.”

“Hi Yrene,” she greeted, taking her spot on the sofa. They had immediately agreed upon the use of first names over their titles. It helped build their relationship and trust between the two of them over the years.

The other doctor made her way over to one of the chairs, sitting down and placing a recorder on the table between them. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m good, happy to be back.”

Yrene arched a brow. “I’m not recording our session yet, just so you’re aware.”

Elain’s eyes glanced to the recorder.

“You’re also a bit stiff, so I can tell when you’re not completely honest with me.”

Damn her. She sighed, taking a breath. “I just…didn’t realize that I was going to have to be cleared mentally to return to work. It’s the surprise consultation that caught me off guard this morning.”

Yrene folded her hands on her notebook. “Elain, I’ve known you for quite a long time now. And I think I can read you pretty well to assess whether or not I think you’re mentally capable of surgery. I don’t believe we should have any issues here, but given the trauma you went through, the higher-ups want to check off a few boxes. This is just a formality is all.”

Higher-ups. That didn’t sound good at all. “Who all knows what happened?” she asked in a hushed voice.

Her face softened. “Me, Thesan, Vivian, Margaret, and the Board.”

“The Boardknows?”

Yrene held a hand up at the onslaught of questions. “It was out of our hands, Elain. There were police involved. The FBI—a crime scene. Cassian and Nesta have handled that side of it, but of course, the Board was going to be notified of the events. Moreso in concern for your well-being than involvement.”

Elain didn’t believe that all that much but she kept those thoughts to herself.

“Okay, are you ready?” she asked, reaching forward to switch the recorder on.

As good as she was going to be, she supposed but nodded anyway.

“Tell me how you’re feeling, physically,” Yrene started.

“Fine. I’m a little sore in my thigh from the wound, but that’s normal for any injury such as the one I received as it heals and I return to a normal routine.”

“Are you in pain?”

“Soreness does not equate to pain in that regard, so no,” Elain said efficiently.

Yrene jotted down a few notes. “How are you handling the emotional stress of what you went through?”

“As well as one could be expected.”

The doctor raised an eyebrow at her curt answer. “Can you elaborate?”

Elain sighed indignantly. “It’s a one day at a time kind of healing. I keep myself busy—it helps to keep my mind off what happened.”

“Are you avoiding dealing with the trauma?”

“No. I’m not avoiding it, just not letting it control how I let myself live and move on from it. Are some days harder than others—yes. On those days, I seek out ways to find comfort in dealing with it, whether that’s talking it through with someone, or just sitting quietly in the presence of someone else and letting my mind sort through everything. But I don’t let those days overrun everything. I don’t let them dictate when I get to be happy, when I want to return to normal, and surely not when I get back to work.”

Yrene’s mouth quirked up at her words. “Just one more question. Do you feel ready and confident to come back? No shaky hands or hesitations?”

Elain looked at the other woman, met her golden gaze unflinchingly, and said, “I am ready to come back.”

The doctor shut her notebook, then leaned forward to flick off the recorder. “This is off the record, you and me, doctor-patient confidentiality. How are you and Azriel?”

She couldn’t help but laugh at the sudden change in topic. “We’re good, better than good actually.”

“And the intimacy between you?”

Her face heated. “It’s been good.” At Yrene’s raised brow and cheeky grin, she added, “Okay, okay! It’s been better than good.” Elain looked down at her hands tangled in her lap, a soft smile playing on her lips. “Progress is slow-moving but it’s moving.”

“What’s slow-moving?”

Oh, gods, her cheeks were burning. “Um, well, we haven’t officially had sex.”

“But you’ve done other things?” she asked, head cocked to the side in an assessing way that had Elain fidgeting in her seat slightly.

“Yes,” she croaked, the sound not at all convincing.

Yrene huffed a small laugh. “I’m not trying to embarrass you, Elain. I just want to assess your relationship completely. Please just be open and honest with me. That’s all I’m asking for. Nothing you say leaves here and does not reflect upon my view of you as a person.”

She took a deep breath, settling herself and her nerves. She knew Yrene was right. That she was overthinking this. Gods, this woman already knew so much about her, what Graysen had done to her—all the gory details of her trauma, the emotional toll it took on her—so why was telling her the happy, emotional, loving connection with Azriel so much more difficult?

“Because it’s Azriel,” Yrene answered for her like she could read her mind. She was smiling wildly at her. “It’s harder to talk about your current personal life because it’s new and exciting, and you love him. You’re still in your honeymoon phase with him, and you spent the last two weeks holed up with him. Talking about it makes it more real. Where there might be cracks—and I’m not saying there are any—but just that that’s why sometimes people have trouble talking about current life over their past.” She tucked a spiraled lock behind her ear, crossing a leg over the other. “You guys have a lot of history together. And time apart. You’re going to have to relearn each other at least a little bit. So, when you said you’ve done other things, what does that mean?”

Elain knew Yrene was right. She needed to be more open about this, especially given what had happened to her. What Graysen had tried to do to her. Squaring her shoulders, she said more strongly than she thought possible, “I let him touch me. Intimately.”

No hint of surprise or shock crossed the doctor’s face. “That’s good, Elain. And how did that go?”

“At first, not so well. I started to have a panic attack. But Azriel recognized it even before I did and stopped immediately. He helped calm me down and then we talked through it. He told me that our physical relationship was set by me. Our pace, how and when we progressed was up to me.” And Elain was still so grateful that he was the observant, patient male that he was. Because she knew that very few of those existed in the world and wouldn’t have given her the same benefit and generosity that he had shown her.

“Well, it sounds like he’s very considerate of your feelings and healing. Do believe that?”

A dopy little smile played on her lips. “I do.”

Yrene grew a matching smile on her own face. “And you’re in a relationship? Officially? Have you had a conversation about that?”

She nodded. “Yes, we just had it on Friday, but I think we’ve been in a relationship much longer than that.”

The doctor tipped her head back and laughed. “I can’t say I disagree with you there. You both care for each other deeply. And seem genuinely happy.” She glanced down at her closed notebook and then back up at her face. “Elain, I have no issues clearing you for work. And based on our second conversation, I’d say you’re well on your way to recovering from your ordeal. Both of them. I believe Azriel is a great asset in your healing process, but don’t feel like he is your only asset. My door is always open for you, as you know; however, at this time, you are well on your way. I will let you decide whether you want to continue any sort of consistent sessions, or if you would like to do them on an as-needed basis like we had set up before.”

The weight resting on Elain’s shoulders lifted and she sagged in relief. “Thank you, Yrene. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

She smiled. “No need to thank me, Elain. I’m just happy to see you happy. It’s been a long-time coming.” Rising from her chair, Yrene tucked her notebook under her arm. “It’s good to see you, Elain. Don’t be such a stranger.”

Elain laughed softly. “I’ll try not to be,” she answered, heading towards the door.

“Oh, and Elain,” Yrene called after her.

She turned, hand on the door handle to look back at her.

“It’s wonderful to see a genuine smile on your face again.”

The corner of her mouth curled up and she dipped her head in agreement before walking out of the office. Taking a moment for herself, Elain relaxed her shoulders, wiped her palms on her scrubs, and set out for the residents awaiting her return, chin held high.

~~~

Elain was riding up in the elevator after work when she heard the music and couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Azriel listening to his piano composition’s playlist. He always seemed to enjoy the soft music and she loved the unadulterated joy it brought him whenever he played it in their home. As she climbed higher to the penthouse, however, she realized the music was getting louder, more pronounced, and when the doors pinged opened, she froze as she stepped out onto the foyer floor

Because standing in the corner of the living room, facing the window—just where she had described it all those weeks ago—was a grand piano. And Azriel was sitting behind it playing something she couldn’t place off the top of her head but was stunningly beautiful nonetheless.

Placing her bags down on the foyer table, she made her way over to him and set her hand on top of his shoulder.

He must’ve heard her come in because he didn’t start at her touch. No, he simply turned his head to look up at her and flashed her a dazzling white smile that lit up his entire face. He didn’t stop playing either, even as he leaned forward slightly to kiss her just below her breasts. Only when the crescendo slowed and the song came to an end did he stop playing and turned to face her. “Hi,” he said almost shyly.

Elain had never seen Azriel look so timid in his adult life, but her mouth was still too unhinged to process that thought. “You bought a piano,” she deadpanned.

He shot her a small, infectious grin. “Kinda.”

“When did you buy a piano?” She looked over at the elevator and then back at him, brows furrowed. “And how did you even get it up here?” Because it sure as hell wouldn’t fit in the elevator.

Azriel stood up off the bench, cradled her face in his hands, and kissed her properly.

She melted into his embrace, hands clutching his forearms.

His thumbs swept across her cheeks as he pecked her lips twice more. “Hi,” he breathed again.

Elain giggled. “Hi.”

He let her go and stepped back to give her a full view of the beautiful instrument. “I bought it a little over a month ago. I had some specifications for it and it back-ordered for a bit, so that’s why it took a while to get delivered. And then they had to bring it in with a crane through the sliding glass door on the balcony.”

Her brows shot into her hairline. “It had to be brought in by a crane?”

Az gave her a cheeky grin. “Yes. We shut down traffic for about an hour. It was a process.”

“You shut down traffic?” she exclaimed! “On one of the busiest streets in the city? They just let you do that?”

He snorted softly. “Not exactly. I’ll likely get a fine in the mail for it.”

Elain just blinked at him, unable to process his words. Until finally she tipped her head back and laughed, full-bellied. At his raised brow, she knew she had startled him with her sudden outburst, but she couldn’t help herself. He just decided to shut down traffic to crane in a piano, to fuck with the consequences. It was spectacularly hilarious. “I’m sorry,” she cried, wiping the lone tear from the corner of her eye. “That answer was just particularly funny to me.”

Azriel kissed her cheek, then stepped around her, placing his hands on her shoulders. His thumbs swept across her shoulder blades, digging into the tender flesh where she needed it most.

Elain had to bite back the moan that threatened to come out as he asked her, “So, what do you think?”

She set her hand on the smooth, black surface. It was a stunning instrument; she’d give him that. “It’s beautiful, Az.”

Leaning down, he tugged the collar of her scrubs aside to kiss the skin of her shoulder, the side of her neck.

Gods, his lips on her body made her want to lose all inhibition, but she needed to focus. “I hope you didn’t buy it just because I said it would look nice here.” The words came out barely more than a breathy whisper, but she knew he heard them. Elain was aware of Azriel’s wealth, but it still made her stomach tight thinking he spent all this money just because of her. Her thoughts also drifted to the conversation they would be having in the near future.

But Az just tucked her into his chest, resting his chin on the top of her head. “I haven’t stopped thinking about getting one since you mentioned it weeks ago, to be honest. So, to answer your unspoken question, yes and no. I did and did not purchase it because of you.” His arms wrapped around her waist. “It also helps with the physical therapy of my hands when they start to ache,” he admitted more quietly.

Elain glanced down to see him flexing his fists, the scarred flesh lightening with the movement as it stretched and relaxed. She carefully took his hands in hers. “Do they hurt often?”

“No, but sometimes during the cold, I’ll get deep aches in them. Or if I overexert myself in a workout where I use my hands too much, they might be bothersome later that day.” He laced their fingers together. “I have been wanting to take up playing again. I just needed your nudge to actually bite the bullet and purchase the instrument.” Az kissed at her shoulder again, lingering to softly suck at the skin in a way he knew she liked.

She shuddered against him, falling further into the cradle of his body, his hips. “I expect to hear you play this every week then. To make it worth the investment.”

He smirked. “Yes, doctor.”

Involuntarily, Elain made a whimpering moan sound, then slapped a hand over her mouth. Her cheeks heated immediately at whatever it was that came out of her, but it was the tense body at her backside that really, really made her want to hide.

Azriel adjusted enough to give himself a better view of her face. “El,” he said cautiously, likely seeing how embarrassed her face was. “Love, hey look at me.”

She dipped her head even further, looking down at the ground.

Fingers gripped her chin and brought her gaze up to meet his. “Elain, baby, what was that?”

Unable to formulate a proper response, she said nothing. Gods, she had no idea what the hell that sound was. He just called her doctor in that low voice of his and her body went molten.

His eyes flicked over her face. “Did you like that?” he finally asked her when she didn’t give him an answer. “When I called you that?”

“Um,” she swallowed.

Azriel twisted her in his arms. “Love, you have to be honest with me if you like something.” His palm splayed across her lower back, under her scrubs, the other sliding into her hair to tip her head up. Brushing his lips over hers, he breathed, “Talk to me, baby.”

Elain’s body shivered under his touch, his words a whisper on her soul. She knew she could trust Az with this unknown fantasy—that the way his deep, breathy voice calling her doctor between the sheets of their bed or as he pleasured her would never be frowned upon or rebuffed. Her fingers curled into the front of his dress shirt, pulling him closer to her. “Yes,” she managed to get out, an airy sound from the back of her throat.

He pulled back slightly, enough so to look down at her face. “Yes, what, baby?”

Damn him.

Carmel-brown colored eyes, blown wide with lust blinked up at him. Gods, he was so beautiful. Plump lips, thick hair, a sharp jaw. Elain found herself wanting to be buried in his presence and never let go. “Yes, I like when you call me doctor,” she finally said, cheeks burning.

A mischievous little grin crept its way onto his face. “You do, now hmm?” His lips pursed in contemplation. “Looks like I will be adding that to my vocabulary more often then.”

And then he was on her, kissing her deeply and demanding, to which she happily obliged him. Elain opened her mouth for him at his asking, letting him sweep his tongue in.

He broke off their kiss suddenly, leaving them panting, eyes sparkling with feral delight. “Do you trust me?”

Elain didn’t even need to hesitate. “You know I do.”

“Then how about you and I break this instrument in properly?”

A wicked little grin curled up the corner of her mouth. “Hm?” she mumbled, glancing over her shoulder at the shiny, black piano. “What did you have in mind?”

Azriel’s mouth attached to her neck, lightly kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin there. He’d been careful not to mark her anywhere that could be seen by others, seeing as her profession would frown upon that. But one of his favorite parts of her body was still her throat—and she knew it. He loved feeling her heartbeat in her cardiac artery. His teeth nipped, then let his tongue soothe the small hurt before making his way back to her mouth.

As he worshipped his way to her lips, Elain felt them moving back towards the instrument. But it wasn’t until her rear end hit the keys, eliciting a sharp, atrocious sound that she realized how close they were.

They both laughed against each other’s lips before he made work of ridding her of her scrub top and tossed it behind him. His hands, those beautifully marred hands skimmed up her ribcage, a lover’s touch, over the fabric of her cotton bra. It wasn’t anything special; she dressed for comfort during her shifts, not for sexual appeal. But that didn’t seem to bother Azriel in the slightest as his eyes roved over her bared skin. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, sliding his mouth over her collarbone.

Elain tipped her head backward, let her hair cascade down her spine where it grazed her waist. Her fingers found purchase in his tresses, gripping the inky strands hard enough that he groaned into her chest.

“May I?” he asked, pulling back just enough to look at her face. His hands danced at the hooks of her bra, but he waited for consent. He always waited for consent, and Elain couldn’t begin to explain how much it meant to her that even though they were together, he still asked for permission.

“Please,” she breathed, leaning forward to bring their mouths together.

He didn’t need to be told twice. Unclasping the garment, Az slowly peeled it away from her body until it fell between them. Glancing up at her to make sure she was okay, he slowly took a nipple into his mouth, sucking it deeply.

Elain moaned, back bowing into him. She clutched his strong shoulders for support, one hand hooked around the back of his neck.

Azriel’s hands were moving down her back, over the curve of her behind to the backside of her thighs where he hoisted her into his arms like it was nothing. He continued his assault on her breast, teeth scraping over the sensitive point, then soothing the small hurt with the flat of his tongue, before he switched to the other one as he gently laid her on top of the piano.

She yelped when her heated skin touched the smooth, cool surface of the instrument, body arching involuntarily.

He chuckled into her chest, hazel eyes glancing up at her through dark lashes. “Cold?” he teased.

Elain tugged on a strand of hair in reprimand. “Just a touch.”

Azriel’s smile lit up his whole face as he kissed his way down her torso, over her navel to the waistband of her scrubs. Bypassing her pants, he lifted one leg and deftly unlaced her shoe, removing it and her sock before working on the other. Kissing his way back up over her pants, he settled his torso between her legs, sucking at the soft skin of her stomach.

Elain realized how large Azriel was in stature. Even with her lying on the piano, he still could drape his entire body over her. The thought that would once stoke fear, was now thrilling. Because she knew down to her very soul, she trusted Azriel with every fiber of her being. Which was why, when he asked her if he could remove her pants—something that they had not yet explored—she said yes.

He was so unbelievably gentle with her, that it nearly broke her heart, as he removed yet another barrier. Brought down another one of her walls as he slipped those lavender scrubs over her hips, down her pale legs, and dropped them onto the floor by his feet. Stepping back slightly, he just looked down at her.

She knew that gaze, that predatory heat in those lust-filled, hazel eyes. But it didn’t stop the blush that dipped down and spread across her chest as he looked his fill. Her breathing turned laborious and she had a sudden urge to close her legs, both to hide and to relieve the ache that had begun building between her thighs. “What?” she panted.

Azriel rested his hands on her shins, his thumbs both soothing her and stroking the embers of her need. “I just—” he started, then paused. “I didn’t think this instrument could look better, but then I put you, naked, on top of it, and I get this rush of fantasies in my mind. Because let me tell you right now, love, I have never seen anything sexier in my entire life than what I’m witnessing right now.”

Elain had been called beautiful before. Stunning even. But never sexy. She couldn’t help but let herself preen a bit from his words.

He lifted a leg to kiss the inside of her ankle, her calf, her knee. “Fuck, if I could take a picture of you like this, I would have it blown up and hung everywhere, just so everyone could see how fucking gorgeous you are.”

She whined, gripping the collar of his white dress shirt.

Az drug his mouth up her thigh, kissing and sucking to her hip. His hands, his lips, that wicked tongue stayed low on her belly, and it took Elain longer than she cared to admit for her to realize what, exactly, his intentions were.

“Az,” she moaned when he kissed her over her underwear.

He nudged her with his nose. “Hm?”

Elain caught his face in her palms, guiding him to look up at her.

He must’ve seen the slight hesitation on her face because he immediately was moving up her body to bring them closer together. “Do you want to stop?” he asked, always concerned.

She was panting, but she shook her head no.

He kissed her cheek. “What’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours?” His thumb brushed her hair behind her ear.

Gods, this was going to be awkward. Graysen had been very particular about when he would go down on her, and even though she and Az had never gotten to that when they were dating in high school—they’d been a little intimidated by it—she wasn’t quite sure what he preferred on her when he did. Elain swallowed the little lump in her throat. “Um, I haven’t gone in for a wax in a while.” It had been more than a while. It’d been years—not since she and Graysen had even been together. Yes, she groomed and maintained, but he had been insistent on it.

His brow furrowed in confusion. “Do you like to get waxed, El?”

“Not particularly,” she admitted truthfully.

“Then I don’t understand why you’re hesitating because of it.”

She took a breath, settling her hands on his bared forearms where the sleeves of his dress shirt had been rolled up to his elbows. “Graysen wasn’t a particularly adventurous lover. When he did explore down there with his mouth, I had to be freshly waxed.” Gods, her cheeks burned from the heat of her embarrassment.

But it was surprise that lit Azriel’s face. Surprise, promptly followed by anger. “Fucker,” he snapped, then added a touch more softly. “Listen to me Elain. Your body is yours to do with as you please. I don’t expect nor want you to do anythingto it that you don’t want to do for yourself and only yourself.” His thumb traced circles over her temple. “I’m sorry that piece of shit made you go through that, but I’m not him and I would never force you to do something to yourself just for you to receive pleasure. I would never force nor ask you to do anything to your body.”

Her heart squeezed at his words. Elain knew this deep down. Knew Az would never make her groom herself in a particular way, wear certain clothes, or cut her hair in a specific style. He would always allow her to make her own choices when it came to her body, her life. “I know,” she said. “I know you wouldn’t. It’s sometimes hard for me to separate the two different relationships. I know you’re not him. My mind just hasn’t quite caught up to the realization that the expectations are completely different, I guess.”

Azriel leaned forward to capture her mouth in a soft kiss. A gentle brush of his lips. “You’ll get there,” he breathed. “I understand that it may be hard to separate things now, but we’ll get there. I promise you we will.”

Elain let her hands wander over his shoulders, up his neck, into his hair. “You’re too good to me,” she whispered into the silence that settled over them.

A beautiful smile, one that he reserved only for her, only in moments like this, found its way onto his face. “You deserve everything and more, Elain. I would set the moon and stars at your feet if I could.” He took her hand from his hair and placed it palm flat over his beating heart. “Every beat of my heart is for you. Every breath I take is so I can have another moment with you. I would spend eternity worshiping you and it still wouldn’t be enough to show you how much I love you.”

She made a choked sound, tears falling from the corner of her eyes, but he was quick to brush them away.

“You said that I am too good for you, but I think you’re wrong. Because, my love, you are far too good for me.”

“No fair,” she complained. “How dare you wax poetically at me while having me lying here practically naked.”

He grinned conspiratorially at her. “I wasn’t kidding about how fucking sexy you look on top of this piano right now.”

Elain wiggled her hips against his waist, sliding her one hand back up to thread her fingers into his dark mob of hair. “Well, are you going to continue staring at me here, leaving me wanting, or are you going to do something about it?” It was the most daring thing she had said since they’d gotten together, and by the raised brow, it took him by surprise as well.

Azriel pretended to think about it. “Staring at you does have its appeal,” he teased, to which she tugged his hair again in scolding.

He chuckled, the sound slithering along her bones like molten lava. It made her entire body taut and loose at the same time. Warmth pooled between her legs, reigniting what he had started earlier. It still amazed her how easily he turned her into a heated mess.

His hands slid down her body, settling on her waist as he kissed her neck, the center of her chest. His mouth took in one of her nipples, sucking it lightly before gently scraping his teeth over it.

Elain’s body arched, pressing further into him as she moaned, hands clutching his shoulders for both support and to keep herself grounded.

Switching to her other breast, he showed it equal attention, then slid his lips down to her stomach. “How are you doing?” he asked, checking in. His warm breath ghosted over her skin, showering her in goosebumps.

“I’m okay,” she reassured him, thumbs tracing up the strong column of his throat.

He looked at her through his lashes, hands dancing at her hips. “May I remove these?”

So polite, yet her cheeks still dusted pink in color. Other than when he helped clean her up after her nightmare, this would be the first time she was bare before him. Bared for him. Elain nodded.

The corner of his mouth quirked up. “As cute as you are right now, I do need verbal consent, my love.” His fingers stroked her hips again, soothingly.

She took a small breath and said, “Yes, you may remove them.”

Azriel grinned and dropped another kiss to her belly. Those beautiful, scarred hands gripped the scrap of fabric and tugged them down her legs, dropping them onto the floor with the rest of her discarded clothes. He pressed a kiss to the inside of each ankle, then threw both legs over his shoulders as he settled himself between her thighs.

Elain tipped her head down to look at him, and dear lord, if that wasn’t the hottest thing she’d ever seen in her life. His mouth latched onto the inside of her fleshy thigh, sucking a bruising mark into her pale skin. It was close enough to where she desperately needed him that she actually whined. “Azriel.”

“Yes, doctor?” he smirked.

The bastard.

Her entire body shuddered and she threw her head back, arching at the words. “Fuck, please.” Gods, she had never been so desperate before.

Az switched to her other leg, having left a satisfying mark on the first, and began the process again. “Please, what, Elain? What would you like me to do?”

His breath fanned over her aching sex and she could feel herself dripping onto the piano cover. She let out yet another whine, hips undulating towards his mouth. “Gods, Az,” she groaned. “Lick or suck, I don’t care. Just do something!”

He really didn’t need to be told twice. Gripping her hips, he pulled her closer to his mouth and licked a broad stripe up her pussy. “Fuck, El. You’re so sweet.”

Elain moaned, hands gripping his hair to latch onto him.

Azriel repeated the motion, working his way up from the base of her entrance, to her clit. He circled it with the tip of his tongue, edging her up, then sucked it into his mouth.

Her body bowed off the instrument as she cried out a slur of words. She released one hand on his hair, in favor of searching for his to lace their fingers together as he pleasured her with his mouth.

And he was relentless in his pursuit of her high, alternating between lapping between her thighs, sucking at her clit, and plunging that wicked, masterful tongue inside of her, Elain was a victim to his insistent pleasure.

It was surprising how quickly she reached the peak of her orgasm, but he never stopped. Not even when she began blabbering, “Az, I’m gonna—”

And then he did something so unexpected; his teeth grazed her clit as he dragged it back into his mouth, sucking it hard enough to have her seeing a kaleidoscope of colors behind her closed eyelids that she screamed as she shattered, hand tightening in his, on his hair. Her legs hooked over his shoulders flexed, suddenly, pulling him even closer to her.

But Azriel never stopped—he kept sucking, kept licking, kept ringing out every ounce of pleasure from her orgasm until she was a boneless, whimpering mess on top of what was now a very dirty piano. Yet, he still didn’t seem to have his fill, because even after he pulled his mouth away from her, he slid one thick finger into her fluttering sex, and then a second.

Elain’s eyes flew open and she looked at him, panting heavily through the remnants of her impending orgasm as he slowly began to pump his hand.

Gently, he brought her legs off his shoulders, one at a time, and leaned forward to kiss her on the mouth, slow and sensually.

She tasted herself on his lips and found it deliciously erotic. Elain hummed against his mouth, reaching up to cradle the side of his face in her palm.

Azriel worked his way from her mouth down her jaw to worship at her neck. “How are you feeling?” he asked, still slowly moving his two fingers inside of her, though he left her clit alone.

“Hmm,” she sighed in contentment, hands sliding through his hair down the backside of his neck. “Sated, but your fingers are making it difficult to stay that way.”

He chuckled into the side of her throat; let his tongue lick a broad stripe up to her ear.

She shivered, skin prickling.

“You did so well, my sweet girl,” he murmured into her ear. “But I think you can give me another.” As if in answer, Azriel pressed his thumb to her clit, slowly stroking it in tight circles that he knew made her feel good.

Elain’s back arched into him as she moaned. Sweet, delicious heat rushed through her body at the sensations he gave her. She clutched at his shoulder leaving little crescent moons through his shirt even with her short nails. “Az,” she cried, eyes closing to let herself focus on the pleasure he was providing her.

He was smiling against the skin of her neck, lightly sucking to not leave a bruise, but keep her hyperaware of everywhere he touched.

Tasted.

“Easy, baby. Does that feel good?” he asked moving down towards her chest. His teeth grazed her nipple, pulling it into his mouth. He bit down on the sensitive nub, eliciting a whimper from the back of her throat, then used the flat of his tongue to soothe the small hurt.

She couldn’t stop the whines from escaping her. The combination of his mouth on her nipple, his fingers pumping into her, and his thumb circling her clit had her on the precipice of a second orgasm in record time. “Az, please. I’m close—”

But instead of continuing his movements, he smiled against the underneath side of her breast and removed his fingers from between her legs.

Elain’s head snapped up off the piano. “What—” she cried, eyes wide. “What are you doing?”

Azriel lifted his head off her chest to smirk at her. “I said you could give me another, not when you could.”

Her chest was heaving as she blinked at him like she hadn’t heard him right. “You’re, what?” she panted.

Leaning forward, he kissed her softly on the lips, letting his hand cup her throbbing pussy and applying enough pressure to have her moaning into his mouth. “My sweet, beautiful, sexy, girl. Do you have any,” he began, moving his lips to her throat to lightly suck on the skin there, “idea how good your next orgasm will feel if we let it build up just a few times?”

Sinking his fingers back into heat, Elain groaned as he began his ministrations again, slowly pumping those thick digits while his thumb rubbed on her clit once more. Arching her back, her legs wrapped around his waist to help meet the thrust of his hands. “Azriel.” She had no idea if she was crying or begging—all Elain knew was that she was lost to the pleasure of his wonderous fingers and that sinful mouth that worshiped her neck.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “I love when you say my name like that.” He worked her up to that blissful edge, only to once again pull away.

Elain groaned out a frustrated noise, his name a curse tumbling from her lips. “Az, baby,” she whined. “This is torture.”

He sucked on the skin of her clavicle, smiling. “This isn’t torture, sweetheart. This is delayed gratification.”

Those damn words he said to her just a few weeks ago.

She growled impatiently.

Az chuckled in the valley of her breasts, starting his ministrations again. Those damn, magical fingers had her teetering on the verge of another orgasm in record time. It was amazing how quickly he had built her up with a few well-placed strokes of his fingers and his ridiculously sinful mouth.

She was so close; so damn close. The walls of her pussy fluttered around his hands and she thought, for a split second, that he’d finally give her what she so desperately needed.

But the bastard felt the way her body began to quake; how her legs had started to shake around his waist and pulled away for the third time.

She let out a snarl of protest, unable to help herself. She was desperate and needy and aching beyond anything she’d ever felt before. Worse than when she got off on his thigh. “Azriel, please!” Her hips undulated towards his body, looking for anything to finish herself off. “Please, no more. I can’t. I need to come.”

Az kissed his way down her body. “As my lady wishes.” Sliding those two fingers back into her, he said, “You have the prettiest pussy, my love. So pink, and tight, and warm.” He kissed the top of her slit, his breath fanning over her aching clit. “Can you take one more finger, my sweet girl?” he asked letting his ring finger probe at her entrance. “I think you’re more than capable of it,” he murmured, breathlessly, then easily slid that third one in, stretching her in a way she’d never felt before.

Elain lost all ability to speak, making only sounds from the back of her throat. It was hot and erotic. She felt so unbelievably full and tight around his hand, but so damn good.

“My good girl, look at how well you’re taking my fingers.” He dropped another kiss to the top of her slit as he slowly worked her. “So wet for me. You’ve made quite a mess on top of our new piano, love.”

She keened at his words, her hands diving into dark locks as she tried to push his head down to where she so desperately needed him.

“Do you want my mouth on you again, baby?”

She managed to garble out some semblance of a yes.

He wasted no time getting to work, likely knowing how needy she was. His mouth latched onto her aching, swollen clit and he immediately sucked it hard.

Elain’s entire body jerked as she cried out. It was too much, it wasn’t enough. She was overstimulated, flying too high, and she knew that when she came crashing down, it’d be an explosion.

Azriel threw an arm over her hips to pin her to the piano and keep her held against him as he grazed his teeth over her clit again. Curling his fingers up into a come hither motion, Elain shattered.

Body arching violently, she practically flew up off the instrument, screaming. Stars exploded behind her closed eyelids in colors she’d never seen before. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. Wave after wave after wave of agonizing pleasure crashed over her, and Az had no qualms about ringing every single drop from her.

His fingers continued their movements, his mouth alternated between sucking and licking on that spot between her thighs until she was a quivering mess.

Elain came so hard, she’s sure she had an out-of-body experience. Like her mind couldn’t process the pleasure she was receiving so it pushed her out and let her watch from above. It was exhilarating and exhausting. Her legs fell off his waist and crashed onto the piano keys, creating a sharp, terrifying noise that had him laughing between her thighs. She was so bone-achingly tired, Elain barely was able to push his head away from her overly-sensitive sex. “Enough,” she croaked out, voice hoarse from her screams.

Azriel followed her order, pulling his mouth away, and then gently removed his fingers, though she still slightly flinched. “Easy baby.”

She was panting heavily but managed to crack open an eye to see him looking down at her fondly, her release dripping off his chin. “You look like a sex-crazed male, right now,” Elain said through her breathing.

He smirked at her, leaning down to leave a sloppy, filthy kiss on her lips. “I am a sex-crazed male right now. Because you look thoroughly ravished and fucked, and that makes me very prideful.”

Elain choked on a laugh, something he took advantage of to kiss her again, his tongue sweeping into her mouth. “You’re filthy, sir.”

His grin turned mischievous. “Covered in you. Exactly how I like it.” He cupped her cheek, minding the hand still coated in essence.

“Can you take off your shirt?” she whispered onto his lips. “I want to feel your skin.”

Smiling softly at her, he said, “Let me clean us up first. Then we’ll cuddle.” He waited until she gave him a nod of confirmation before he ran into the kitchen and grabbed what she assumed was a dishtowel from the cupboards closing and the water turning on. Then she heard the oven door open as he checked on whatever he was cooking.

“What’s for dinner?” she called out, looking over at him as he clicked the oven off and made his way back over to her, still lying nude on top of the piano.

“Other than you?” he snarked, shooting her a cocky grin that had her rolling her eyes but smiling nonetheless. Unbuttoning his dress shirt, he draped it across the armrest of the couch on his way back to her. “Roasted rosemary chicken and potatoes with salad.” He wiped the sweat from her face and neck with a damp cloth, working his way over her shoulders and chest. “It’s ready, but I’ll leave it in the oven to keep warm until we’re ready to eat,” he stated, wiping down her body until he reached between her thighs.

Elain’s hips jerked away from his hand and she hissed, still sensitive.

His eyes flashed to hers and he paused his movements, holding the towel away from her body. “Are you okay?”

“Just a little sore.”

Az looked at her then. Really looked at her and she could see what appeared to be guilt clouding his handsome face. “Was I too rough?”

Elain reached out to lace their fingers together. “No, Az. You were perfect. That was,” she paused, searching for the right words, “magical.” Her thumb swept across his knuckles in a soothing gesture. “Thank you for that.”

He dropped a soft kiss to her lips and she could feel all the love he tried to convey to her. It was sweet and lovely, like a freshly cut bouquet of flowers on a sunny spring day. “Of course, my love. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“More than enjoyed it, even if I wanted to rip your hair out at the end,” she teased.”

Azriel threw his head back and laughed, exposing the strong column of his throat. Gods, he was a beautiful specimen, but when he laughed, when he smiled like he was right now, he was beyond anything she’d ever seen before. “Can I try to clean you up a bit more?” he finally asked her.

Elain nodded, keeping ahold of his hand.

As he wiped away the rest of her release and cleaned her up, he planted loving kisses on her knees and thighs. Nothing to reignite the fire inside her, but just to show his adoration and love. Mopping up the top of the piano, Az raised a brow at her, “You’ve made a mess here, baby.”

Her cheeks flushed with color, but she managed to throw as much bravado into her voice as she could muster and snapped back, “That’s what you get for delaying my gratification. Cleanup duty.”

His eyes sparkled as they shot to hers and he leaned over her. “The next time I splay you out on this piano, you’ll be in nothing but a pair of heels.” And then he hoisted her into his arms, her legs somehow finding the strength to hook onto his hips while her hands clutched his shoulders. Azriel settled them onto the couch, then draped his dress shirt over the back of her, likely seeing how her skin pebbled from the cool air.

He leaned back slightly, letting her body rest against his, her hips falling onto the cradle of his and Elain became very aware of how painfully hard he was. Her face turned a deeper shade of red as she pushed on his chest to look down at him.

Azriel reached up to brush a thumb over her jaw. “I’ll be fine. Just lie down on me and relax, El.”

She didn’t think he was being totally truthful, but did as requested and laid back down, letting their bare chests pressed together. It was the first time they had skin-to-skin contact like this and Elain realized how nice it felt to be held like this. To hold him this close to her. She tucked her face into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent, and let him run his hands down her spine over his linen shirt. Her lips pressed into the strong beat of his steady pulse. “So,” she began, smiling into his skin. “Nothing but a pair of heels, huh?”

His chuckle reverberated from deep within his chest, shaking her. “I may have a kink for you in a pair of heels,” he admitted, fingers working at her shoulders.

Elain hummed. “But, just the heels.”

“Just the heels. If you wanted to walk around the penthouse in nothing but a pair of heels, I would absolutely not complain.”

She laughed, smacking his shoulder. “Kinky.” Elain shifted her leg slightly and hissed, the soreness from her day finally hitting her healing wound.

Azriel immediately reacted, leaning her back to see what was wrong. “Are you hurt?”

“No, my thigh is just a bit sore from being on my feet all day. I got too much rest during that two-week break.”

He readjusted her to she was sitting sideways across his lap, his magical fingers lightly floating across her bare leg to work out the muscle. “How’s that?”

Elain sighed in contentment, resting her head against his shoulder. “That feels nice, thank you.”

Smiling, he brushed a soft kiss to her forehead. They sat in silence for a bit as he focused on her leg, until he said, “We still need to finish our conversation from this morning.”

Her entire body tensed, and she knew he felt it too; the way her leg tightened beneath those beautifully scarred hands. She peeked up at him through her lashes, finding his hazel eyes already watching her carefully. Knowing how this conversation was going to go and feeling a bit exposed, Elain began buttoning up his dress shirt.

Azriel must’ve seen right through it, but didn’t question it as he reached over and grabbed the blanket she used the other night when they were watching a movie and threw it over their laps, helping her cover up and feel less vulnerable.

Elain let out a breath, taking one of his hands in hers. They were starkly different. His large, tanned, and scarred. Hers, small, pale, and nearly unblemished aside from a few calluses from work and when she gardened, which was few and far between lately.

He brushed a thumb over her knuckle, soothing her nerves for this conversation. He always seemed to know how nervous she was. “I’ve been thinking about this discussion all day, and I want to have an open dialogue about this, El. And I want you to know that whatever you say and feel, I will take seriously. Pushback on me, okay?”

She looked up at him, found his gaze open and earnest with her. But she nodded, stomach settling with his words.

“I’m going to assume that you do not want me to offer to pay off any of your student loans and such, am I right?”

Elain’s body tightened, but she said, firmly, “You’d be absolutely correct in that assumption.”

Az chuckled at her harsh tone. “I figured. So, then how about this, since you’re officially moved in here and your final payment to your previous landlord clears next week, why don’t you focus on paying that off, and let me take care of the rent?” When she tried to object, he squeezed her hand to stop her. “Hang on, let me finish.”

She closed her mouth.

“I’m already paying for it anyway, so it’s no skin off my bones. Then if you feel an absolute necessity, you can pitch in for groceries and whatnot. But I would like for you to focus on yourself and your loans. Those can hang over your head for years and I’d hate for you to have to be paying on them for another ten years.”

It was a solid plan, she had to admit. As of right now, she could only afford to put a few hundred dollars a month towards her student loans, barely anything above the minimum payments since her rent was so high—her landlord really was a piece of shit sometimes. But if she could put nearly her entire rent check towards it each month, she’d be able to have those loans paid off in just a few years.

Even earlier once she was moved into an attending physician position that came with a nice pay increase too.

A gentle squeeze to her hand brought her attention back to the male whose lap she was sitting on. “Tell me what’s going on in the beautiful mind of yours.”

He had said those words twice to her tonight, and she had to admit that she loved when he complimented her like that. Not just on her looks but on her intelligence. “I’m worried that if I tell you, you’re right, you’ll take it like some kind of omen that this is how all our decisions, arguments, or disagreements will go.”

Azriel blinked at her, registered her words. Then tipped his head back and laughed. A full-bellied, world-shattering, kind of laugh that jostled her on his lap. “I promise not to let it inflate my ego,” he managed to get out between chuckles and kissed her temple.

She smiled broadly at him. “If you’re sure you’re okay with that arrangement, then I am too. I would like to get those loans off my back, but I also don’t want to place a burden on you.”

“You are nevera burden, Elain. Ever.” He ran a knuckle of the curve of her cheek. “I know the topic of money and buying you things makes you uncomfortable, so I will do my best to be considerate of that. But can you promise me one thing? That you will occasionally let me do something nice for you? I promise not to do anything too extravagant, but I would sometimes like to gift you things. When appropriate.”

Elain bit her bottom lip, a question running through her head that she’d had yet to ask about. “Like a necklace,” she hedged.

His eyes flashed. “Yes, like a necklace.” His hand came to rest on her neck, let his thumb stroke the side of her throat. “Is that something you would be okay with?”

It was two questions in one, she knew. One, if she would be okay with him buying her small tokens to show his love, as long as they were within reason and meaningful. And two, if she indeed wanted the necklace returned to her. Elain had loved that necklace—and returned it only because it didn’t feel right to keep it, not wanting a reminder at the time of him. But now, she did want it back, wanted that piece of him that he spent time searching for because it reminded him of her. “I’d be okay with that,” she finally answered.

Azriel seemed to lose a breath he’d been holding, his hand sliding up her neck to bury in her thick hair and brought her mouth to his. It was a soft, slow kiss. Like they had all the time in the world to sit there and taste each other.

Elain smiled on his lips, breaking the kiss. “I hate to ruin the moment, but I’m starving.”

Az’s answering laugh skittered along her bones. “Whatever you desire, love. I’m going to go change first if you want to set the table. Can I bring you something down? Sweats?”

“A pair of leggings is fine. I’ll just lounge in your button-up if you don’t mind? It’s quite comfortable.”

His hazel eyes darkened a bit. “You know I love you in my clothes, baby.”

She pecked his lips before climbing off his lap. Elain threw her underwear back on while Az collected her scrubs, shoes, and socks from the floor and carried them up the stairs. She was dishing up their dinner when something was draped in front of her. “Oh!” she said, startled as Az placed her necklace on her, efficiently clasping it. He gently tugged her hair out of the way, so it settled at the center of her chest.

“Right where it belongs,” he stated, affirmatively.

Elain reached up to touch the delicate pendant, the daisy small enough to not draw attention, but proportioned to be eye-catching to its beauty.

Simply elegant.

She twisted in his arms to wined hers around his neck. “Thank you, Az. For everything you’ve done for me. For caring for me and loving me as I am.” Her thumb stroked his jaw, feeling the slight stubble of his five o’clock shadow that had done wonders between her legs. Elain tried not to blush at her dirty train of thoughts. “I am truly blessed to call you mine.”

“I love you, El. More than you will ever know.”

She smiled at him. “I think I may know better than you think. Because I love you just the same.” And then she kissed him, to show him just how much she did.

~~~~~

Credit to @nikethestatue for letting me use Az and the little red Ferrari. If you haven't read her La Dolce Vita fic, you need to. 👀

Remember, sharing is caring! Please reblog if you liked the fic. It helps spread my work and I truly appreciate it. 💕

I’m not doing a tag list anymore because they’re really more trouble than their worth. For notifications, you can follow and subscribe to my fanfic account where I will be reblogging updates and snippets only. You can also find me on ao3.

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics

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theodora3022 · 4 years ago

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Selfish Deeds (Yandere! Gojou Satoru)

Summary: Satoru just wants you to be free of danger. If you are so knowledgeable why can’t you understand that he only wish the best for you?

A/N: This is just one snippet of many out of a collection(haven't decide the name just yet)...Since I have not read the manga(anime-only for now) so I just got a vague impression of what Gojou has been through, but that does not stop me from writing him like the cocky bastard he is. Hopefully it is not too OOC(as if yandere variant itself is not OOC enough pfttt) The reader is a stubborn psycho because that is what I am :) Will there be some future pieces that involves nsfw elements? I got a few ideas but no promises.

I blame @popi-the-fatui for my Gojou brainrots. You got your revenge on me by making me attracted to this dubious man. Word count: 1.6k

Banner credit

Warnings: Female pronouns, Possessive behaviour, DELUSIONAL behaviour, non-consensual touching, power inbalance, general yandere content, slight mention of confinement and violence(This is not a healthy relationship dynamic!!!), reader is not a soft UWU girl, kthis is so self indulgent *buries myself into the bottomless pit of shame

It has been nearly fifteen minutes since the headquarter disconnected the call, yet you are still staring at your phone screen with disbelief.

You were supposed to travel to another city for a mission tomorrow, they had notified you of this mission a week ago.

You already got your luggage packed, and your theoretical research on the objective is thoroughly done. Then they dare to inform you: they have found a more suitable candidate! Right on the day before your departure too.

Your curse techniques have already limited you to more of a supporting role for most situations. There are not plenty of missions available for you to begin with. While you are content with educating the fresh blood of the community in classrooms the majority of the time, you still long for field actions every once in a while. It is an essential part of being a Jujutsu sorcerer after all.

Both you and the soft-spoken secretary who made the call know this is nonsense. The higher-ups recognize that you are one of, if not the best sorcerers available when it comes to reconnaissance and espionage.

Letting out a sigh of immeasurable frustration, you swore to yourself that you will find out who is the conductor of this humiliating turn of events. This is going to be difficult since you do not recall having any issues with any of the administration staff recently.

There is no reversing this misfortune, but at least you can be aware of who is responsible for such violation of conduct.

He is only doing this to protect you.

Gojou Satoru tells himself as such, at least.

He is aware of how unfair it is, to make someone less capable to take on the job. But he cannot risk your safety. The man has already got used to your company, and he is not willing to just let you disappear from his field of view for more than a week. Sure, you might have not admitted how much you like him yet, but it is just too endearing to see you flustered at his flirtatious words.

Although there have been some difficulties with rescheduling, he managed to use his connections to exclude you from that first-grade mission at last minute. On the bright side, the sorcerer cannot wait to lend you an ear to vent about how conservative and unfair the higher-ups can be. Maybe you will even say yes to a trip to the newest local bakery! You need some sweet treats to cheer yourself up, don’t you?

But Satoru has never thought about how you specialize in putting two and two together. (understandable since he never saw you in action before).

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

Strange, you are not near the usual area in the library.

Sensing his footsteps, you opened your office door before Satoru had a chance to knock.

“We need to talk, Gojou-san.” That expression is new. This is the first time he sees you genuinely angry, which is to be expected.

But somehow he got a bad feeling about this.

You did not even invite him to sit down, instead just standing next to the floor window, arm crossed, with your back turned to him.

“Why would you do such a thing?” You have to use up all of your self-control to prevent yourself from having a full blow-up right at Gojou Satoru. Maintain composure. But it is easier said then done.

Does he think this is funny? To sabotage someone else's sorcerer career like this? You knew you should have kept him out of your daily life, as he is nothing but trouble to you. But you made the mistake of choosing to tolerate him, and some superficial part of you might even enjoy his dallying words a bit too much.

To the extent, you overlooked some red flags. This is a grievous error indeed.

Shit, now that he vaguely remembers what role you play on missions.“(y/n)-chan, what are you saying-” He knows you always act in supporting positions, however, he has overlooked your actual abilities and curse techniques. You collect intel and spy on enemies, how could he forget that? “Don’t play dumb with me. You got your ways, I got mine. There is no use denying what you have done. I thought you out of all people would understand what it means to be a sorcerer.”

This is a violation of protocol, changing mission assignments at the last minute. However, you know this man would not be receiving any solid punishment should you decide to report this. They would say there is “no harm done” and you would just receive a pitiful apology. Suppose you cannot blame them though.

They need Gojou Satoru, the Jujutsu community needs his prowess to keep innocent people safe. He will remain in the system no matter what.

Why are you questioning his motives? Does he have to spell it out for you? Letter by letter?

“You are not a skilled combatant, (y/n)-chan. What if you got yourself hurt?” Or even worse, killed. It scares him to think that you could be gone one day, how he would walk by this office corridor and never sees you sitting behind the desk ever again.

Not much in this world could send Gojou Satoru a chill down his spine, yet the thought of you dying is now on the list. He knows how petty this is, you wouldn’t be the one doing the actual exorcising after all. But the if, the slight possibilty.

He cannot allow that to happen, not ever. Even that means angering you and getting yelled at.

“What am I, some normal lawful citizen? I am a sorcerer just like you, Gojou-san. Putting ourselves on the line for innocents is part of the deal.” You let out a few short, sarcastic giggles, narrowing your eyes at him with fury. “It’s funny that you, out of all people, fail to understand that. If I am needed I will do what I must. If this is some sort of sick joke, stop it already, not funny. ”

Blunt, unrelenting stubbornness. Not like that’s news for him, Satoru has lots of experience with that since the day your path crossed. Although he finds this quality to be adorable most of the time, it can pose major problems like the present.

Oh, he is not angry at you. Satoru is more outraged at himself, don’t you worry. On the contrary, he is rather intrigued by your sarcastic remarks! However…

Instead of walking towards where you stood near the window, the man decides to take a turn towards the door.

That flashing panic within your eyes did not escape his sight.

The illusion figure you were projecting near the window dissipated instantly once he got your left wrist in his hand. Concealing yourself and projecting illusions, a rare techique indeed.

“Clever tactic. Making yourself invisible, projecting a faux illusion to distract me, leaving the door open and staying close to the exit. Your curse techniques are impressive. I almost got fooled, job well-done (y/n)-chan.”

The grip on your wrist suddenly tightens, you have to bite your lip to hold back a hiss of pain. How can he still flash that casual, playful smile when committing such atrocity? Those damned cerulean blue eyes too, you are ashamed of how you tremble and (internally) swoon at it at the same time.

Efforts to get away would most likely be futile, but you have to try. “See, you underestimated your opponent. I do see why you are good with lurking in the shadows now. Do you have any idea what I am capable of though?” Such delicate hands, it would be a shame if they were to bruise.

It’s unnerving how easy it looks for him to maintain a solid grip on your wrist while you pull back with all of your might. You know Gojou Satoru is strong and all, but this simple demonstration of strength is devastatingly effective. “Let go of me, you bastard!”

To your surprise, he softens his grip and you finally distanced yourself from him, panting and guarded. “Who are you to decide what I should and what I should not do? I made it crystal clear on the first day that I do not like you for the slightest.”

You know the walls are thin and coworkers might heard you, but you will have to worry about it later. It is, sadly, a matter of fact that you are somehow attracted to him, but that does not give him the right to use it against you. You must not give in to the temptation.

“You are pretty slow on the uptake for someone so smart. I was thinking of doing this naturally, we can go on normal dates to coffee shops, amusement parks, or even the museum if that is what you wish for. But now I see you do not know how much you mean to me.” Do you think Gojou-san is only flirting with you for the fun of it? It might have been the case in the beginning, but that is not the case since...recently.

He did not stop you again when you turned away, giving him one last menacing look and disappeared from his sight, even if he could see the faint trace of your curse energy. You will return to him and apologize after you calm down, he is confident about that. You value your job way too much to quit.

Then he could finally pull you into his arms, saying he does not mind and forgive your childish tantrums. Satoru does not plan to lock you up in a cage or anything(yet)! The students adore you and they need your guidance. Your clan is insignificant compared to his, your influence? Does he even need to consider that?

Gojou Satoru would always achieve his goals by whatever means possible. You are no exception to this.

#yandere fanfiction #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere gojo #yandere gojou satoru #yandere x you #yandere gojou satoru x you #*screams into the sea of Quanta #I was a clown when I said I won't simp for him #tw: dark content #tw: yandere

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alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer · 3 years ago

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romeo must die

this one-shot is based on the song Romeo Must Die by Gabrielle Aplin, I highly recommend listening to it! shout out to @eugeniaslongsword for introducing me to it :) i even borrowed some lyrics from it haha. it is also inspired by the entire playlist I made, "being treated badly by someone doesn't make you love them more"

content warnings: past toxic/unhealthy relationship, the uncomfy 6-year age gap between Alastair and Charles

Masterlist | Read on AO3

"Alastair, may I speak to you privately for a moment?"

Alastair looked up from what he was working on. He was in the library of the Institute, along with Cordelia, Thomas, James, Matthew, and Christopher. They were searching for any clue as to how Lucie had done what she’d done or what Tatiana and Belial were planning. Alastair wasn't entirely sure how he got roped into the ordeal, but it seemed as though Thomas suggested him as an extra set of eyes, and Cordelia latched onto the idea.

"No," he said curtly, returning to his reading.

"Excuse me?"

"I said no. I'm quite busy at the moment." Alastair spoke under his breath, not wanting to draw the others' attention. How many times had Charles barked the same words at him, swatting him away, hacking away at paperwork or planning his next step in his career? The words sat bittersweet in his chest.

"Surely you could spare a few moments."

"I certainly could. But I do not wish to." Charles had a way of getting into his head and twisting his words and his feelings. It was not an experience he wished to revisit. It was better here, with an audience. It had also been easier in the infirmary, knowing that he held all of the power. His father had made him feel the same way, he thought bitterly. He understood now that what he'd done at school was not only to protect himself from the bullies. He wanted to reclaim the power stolen from him by his father; he wanted for once in his life to hold power himself. He hadn't yet come to the realization that holding that kind of power did nothing but harm. It was of no use, anyways, because it didn't matter how much he perfected his tongue and his wit on the other students at the Academy, he was never able to use it when it counted. Not with Elias, and not with Charles.

"It's fine if you need to take a few minutes, Alastair,” Cordelia said gently. All of the eyes in the room had come to rest on the two of them. Now he wished he’d spoken louder.

“It’s alright, Charles was just leaving.”

He had hoped that Charles would give up and leave knowing that everyone was watching him, but he was determined. He grabbed Alastair’s arm. “It’ll just be-”

Alastair stood, but pulled his arm away. “Don’t touch me.”

In a flicker, Alastair saw it: the anxiety began to set in. Charles began to realize that he would not be able to play his usual tricks. “Why are you acting like this?”

“I believe I was quite clear when I told you I don’t wish to speak with you. You’re the one who can’t let this go.”

“Must you act so childish?”

He rolled his eyes. “Must you always call me childish for thinking for myself instead of catering to your every whim?”

“I don’t understand. You said we were fine.”

Alastair sighed. Perhaps for a moment, he thought that was true. For just a second, he thought there was a world where he and Charles could be friends. But Alastair had decided that he would no longer call people who hurt him his friends. “Yes, well, I lied. I wanted to let you down gently, but it’s clear to me now that it must be spelled out for you. How shall I put this? You and I are past our dancing days, Charles.”

“But-” He stammered, searching for words. “What happened with Grace Blackthorn wasn’t my fault.”

“Maybe not. But what of Miss Bridgestock? Am I to pretend that what happened with Miss Blackthorn was not the same as what happened two years earlier?”

“You told me many times that you took no issue with that, that you understood.”

“I understood what you told me, which we both know was never the full truth. I was a sixteen year old desperate for your affections, and the fact that you truly believe I never had any issue with your arrangement is proof that you never genuinely cared about me or listened to my thoughts. I told you in the infirmary that this wasn’t your fault because I thought it’d ease the pain, but I lied. And I don’t have time to sit here and watch you cry over it.”

Alastair wished that watching Charles become flustered would have been more enjoyable. Instead, all he wanted was for this to end. “You- you’re different than when we met. You’ve changed. You’re cruel and callous, I don’t understand how I could not see how heartless you were until now. You are everything that everyone claims you to be. How am I to even know what the truth is when it comes from your lips?”

There was a time when those words would have cut deeply into him, eating at his every insecurity, but Charles mistakenly assumed that Alastair was the same person he was last July, with the same insecurities. “When we met, I was fourteen years old. I’ve grown up, and it is time for you to do the same. It’s been six months, Charles. You need to stop writing me. If that makes me heartless, I don’t care. And if you wish to know the truth, the truth is that the moment you leave here, if I never see your face again, it still will not be long enough.”

Charles stared at him for a long while, unable to find a proper retort. In the end, it was Matthew who stepped in. “Charles, I believe it’s time for you to go.”

He obliged, finally turning to leave the library. As he began to walk away, however, Alastair knew that he was not finished. His heart beat a little bit faster at the thought of such a confession, and faster again when he realized who would hear it, but there was no piece of parting with Charles that he wished to regret.

“Wait,” he said. Charles froze and turned to look at him. “I know it’s unlikely that you have it in the cold depths of your soul to care, but let the record show that I would have given you everything. I would have given you my life, all of the love and trust that I had to give, and then I would have given more. And you gave me nothing. So the next time you’re pondering my heartlessness, you ought to wonder what that means for you.”

Finally satisfied, Alastair did not wait for Charles to turn and leave again to return to his seat and pick his reading back up. He waited for a moment, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of everyone’s eyes on him. He stood once more, opening his mouth to speak, but the words were caught in his throat. Instead, he walked out of the library in silence.

Finding the nearest balcony, he attempted to steady his breath.

“Are you alright?” He heard from behind him. Thomas. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

He shook his head. “I just needed some air.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Alastair sighed. He backed up against the window and slid down to the floor of the balcony. “I know- I know that everyone sort of knew already, but… by the Angel, I feel so pathetic.”

“You’re not pathetic,” Thomas told him, sitting down beside him.

“You were right, of course you were. I was so… taken with him, back in Paris. I couldn’t see him for what he was. I was so naive, so foolish. I just- After everything I’ve seen, everything I’ve been through, how did I not realize-��

Thomas put his hand on Alastair’s knee. “You wanted to see the best in him. After everything you’d seen and been through, you wanted to believe that there were still good and honest people in the world. And there are. I’m sorry that he was not one of them, but that does not make you foolish or pathetic. It makes you… kind.”

“I bet you’d never imagined describing me as such before.”

“It seems you’re full of surprises,” Thomas teased. “But that’s not true. I always saw the kindness in you, even back at school, when you did everything to keep it hidden.”

“As you can see, my ‘kindness’ has never gotten me very far.”

“You were out of practice. Following me on my reckless nighttime patrols, that was kind. More than kind. I don’t think I ever thanked you for that, for risking your life to protect mine.”

“I didn’t do it for gratitude.”

“And yet I owe you mine nonetheless.”

“I can’t go back in there, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can tolerate you and your friends hating me just fine. But if any of your friends give me even an ounce of pity- well, we’ll see just where the limits of my kindness lie, won’t we?”

Thomas stood up, offering Alastair his hand. “Pity comes from those who cannot even begin to understand what you’ve experienced. For what it’s worth, I don’t think my friends will pity you. But if they do, you can ignore them. For Lucie.”

Alastair sighed and allowed Thomas to pull him to his feet. “Fine. Let’s get back to reading.”

“Speaking of reading, do you have the entirety of Shakespeare’s canon memorized, or only the lines you believe may pop up in conversation?”

“Excuse me?”

“‘For you and I are past our dancing days,’ it’s Romeo and Juliet, isn’t it? It’s the only one of his works that I got through.”

Alastair froze. “You haven’t read Hamlet?”

“I tried.”

“Othello? King Lear? Macbeth? Midsummer Night’s Dream?”

He shook his head.

“That’s impossible. And James is friends with you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Wait until my sister finds out you haven’t read Hamlet,” he warned, starting towards the library with urgency in his step.

“Wait, don’t- I just don’t like Shakespeare! What’s so wrong with that?” Thomas’ attempts at reasoning were futile, however, a welcome distraction from all of their recent sorrows finally taking hold.

Thanks for reading!! This was self indulgent af lol. I'm not to sure whether some people only wanted to be tagged in my social media AU, so if that's the case I'm sorry & please tell me!: @stxr-thxif @chaos-and-starlight @lifewouldbebetteronmars @littlx-songbxrd @dianasarrow @eugeniaslongsword @bookswitchcraftandcats @jamesherondaleofficial @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @livingformyself @anarmorofwords @foxglove-airmid @writeforjordelia @sapphic-in @thecodexsays @fortheloveofthecarstairs @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @shadowrunner2000 @thewarthatsavedmylife @fair-childd @icouldnotask @shadowhunting-hooligans @melanielocke @clarys-heosphoros @kiwichaeng @lightwoodsimp @thecrimsonsorceresss @theenchanteddreamer @adams-left-hand @yozinha-z @ipromiseiwillwrite @skirtsandsweaters @goodoldfashionednerd

#alastair carstairs #charles fairchild #if you're a charles apologist just block me #thomas lightwood #thomastair #tlh #the last hours #cw toxic relationship #coi spoilers #fanfiction #fanfic

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kalorphic · 3 years ago

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What about more professional attitude? I mean, I think it's still possible to be good partners at work and trust each other but without things like love and best friends outside of work.

I thought it would be better when it comes to MC who is rather distant person and not the best at building close relationships. Unless you don't anticipate adding that personality type. So I get it.

Personally, I just don’t see someone risking their life (as you have no idea what K’s gotten into) and their entire career that they’ve worked hard for and have earned an excellent reputation in for a work partner, even if you have a good working relationship and trust. Like idk how close you are to your work partners, but as much as I like and trust mine, I probably wouldn’t do this for them (sorry guys lol).

In nova, the way a stoic mc acts and feels will be separate - so they still love K, but they might not express it very well, but K is trained to read between the lines/pick up on behaviours so they’d know that mc loves them (although in terms of romance, at first they’d believe it was platonic). Because nova is more of a practice IF before Zephite, I made myself limit it more. Nova is a spoof-type IF, it’s supposed to be kind of stupid and everyone’s a bit chaotic, so a really distant mc who struggles to form relationships won’t be an option I’m afraid :(

However, I hope to really expand the various personalities in Zephite so you would 100% be able to chose how you feel about all the ROs and NPCs (except one) and be able to play a very distant mc!

Thank you for the ask!

#ask #char: mc #mc’s personality #the coding for zephite is going to make me cry

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the-witty-pen-name · 4 years ago

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Wallflower

18+ ONLY

Ezra (Prospect) x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: fluff, mutual pining, cursing, smut, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), masturbation, dirty dreams, implies age gap (reader is in 20s+/of age, just younger than Ezra)

No use of (y/n) in this one!

A/N: I know this was not one of the things I should be working on, and I procrastinated on my coursework yet again to write fan fic. I’m so in love with Ezra and I have wanted to write something for this character for a while. It’s my first time writing for him and I was so intimidated to write something about him because his manner of speaking is so unique that I’m worried I won’t do him justice! Hopefully you all enjoy!

Next thing I post will be the final part of Rest! It is currently in progress!

I will be updating my taglist form soon to include Ezra and other Pedro characters I write for so check out for that if you want to be tagged in future fics!

This is unedited and if I miss something to tag as a warning please let me know!

Tags and Requests and OPEN

“Ezra, for once can you please shut the fuck up. You’re driving me crazy,” you sigh, pulling off your helmet as you both return to your shared pod. It was a fairly long trek from the mining site back to your makeshift home and Ezra, being himself, talked the whole time- not once missing a beat.

“Not once have I ever had the pleasure of conversing with one as eloquently a sweet talker as yourself,” Ezra winks, making you roll your eyes. You weren’t actually mad at him, you could never, but one of the side effects of Ezra was limited moments of peace and quiet. In many ways, you and Ezra were very similar, and it made you really compatible partners.

But unlike Ezra, you really enjoyed quiet. Ezra, on the other hand, has had more than his fill of quiet for his lifetime and he basked in the ability to vocalize his every passing thought to you. It wasn’t often you felt the need to tell him to stop, but today had been particularly challenging and you couldn’t think of anything else besides the quiet of night and a good rest.

Ezra and you worked well because you were so much alike, but your differences also paired you two nicely. Ezra was without a doubt the biggest and most long-winded talker you had ever met and you were the best listener, opting to be the silent one in the conversation more times than not. You weren’t necessarily shy, just someone of a quieter nature. You mostly kept to yourself, by choice really, while Ezra struggled with solitude, it was one of the strengths of yours that you were able to endure it better than he could.

When you first met Ezra, he had called you wallflower, cause frankly you were one. Settled in the far corner of the pod with your notebook in hand, sketching instead of talking with the rest of the crew, Ezra made the effort to saunter over to you and made it his personal mission since day one to break you out of your shell. Made sure during mealtimes, he sat next to you, talked to you, asked you questions. Frankly, you owe the friendship you have with him now to his openness and talkative nature.

“Flower, I hope my parley on the trek back didn’t offend,” he says as he sheds off his suit.

“Not at all,” you say with a small smile, “Sometimes my meter runs out on my ability to listen. Tires me out.”

“I suppose I can understand,” Ezra replies, “I honestly seem to have the opposite problem, all my years in the Green, I never had the pleasure of someone to listen to besides my lonesome. Now that I have you, I find myself utterly unable to suppress my desire of spoken prose and I’m afraid I do tend to take advantage of your gentle nature.”

You nod, understanding him very well. It was coming up on seven months since you and Ezra had been on your own. The other three members of your crew had parted ways with you both, seeking out a better treasure.

Ezra, knowing what this planet and greed does, insisted on just doing his job and leaving, and you strongly agreed. It had been so long since the three of them went off for the buried riches, and you don’t even know if they will be returning to your pod at your scheduled time of departure in a few months’ time. Ezra told you stories about how he’s witnessed this job change people, and how he’s seen planets swallow up one’s humanity with no forgiveness. He was doubtful that any of them would return, and you were now starting to realize that his prediction since the beginning was correct.

Once your suit was off and put away, you smoothed out your hair as best you could by touch without a mirror, and headed over to the storage cubby where you both had your rations and grabbed you both a bar. You tossed one over to Ezra and he caught it effortlessly. Peeling back the wrapper of yours, you took a bite and collapsed on your cot.

“I never thought I’d miss those meals they served in the mess hall up in the station,” you comment, “I’d take a portion of those watery mashed potatoes and mystery meatloaf in a heartbeat if it meant I never had to touch one of these bars again.”

Your words made Ezra chuckle, his laugh deep and husky. You loved it. Your chest always swelled with pride just a tad when you had the ability to make him laugh or smile. More often, it was always him getting those reactions from you with his words and you liked the feeling when you were able to return the favor.

You closed your eyes, not falling asleep, just letting them rest while you chewed the rubbery ration. Ezra, tore through his always rather quickly, and he noticed that you still tried to savor yours despite your complaints. Like the taste, even though lacking and the texture terrible, was still like a reward for completing another hard day’s work. He admired that about you. You hadn’t been working this job as many years as him, as he was a few (plus a few more) years your senior. The things about this job he’s long since ignored or has gotten used to, still affected you. You still tried to taste your food, instead of scoffing it down like him and other seasoned prospectors.

“I can feel you staring, Ezra,” you say, breaking him out of his thoughts. He felt flushed knowing that he had been caught. It wasn’t intentional, more and more it was hard to keep his mind clear of thoughts of you.

“Sorry, flower,” he mutters, and you smirk, rendering him speechless for the first time all day.

It was undeniable that Ezra’s feelings for you were bubbling up closer and closer to the surface each passing day he spent in your company. You grounded him in ways he hadn’t realized he had needed. He needed someone to reign in his ramblings and tether him back when he lets his mind wander too deep. He needed you. There was this dependency that tied him to you now more than he ever experienced with another partner. It was friendship, sure. But he’s been friendly with partners past, and not once has he felt about them what he feels towards you.

He was a hopeless romantic, his thoughts of love and relationships were as poetic as the words he spoke. Yearning, completely head over heels, his mind constantly cluttered with scenarios of the ways he would court and win your affection if there was no inkling that lingered in his mind that was there to remind him it was a bad idea. You were much more practical than he ever hoped to be, much more wired for logic than he was. However, Ezra was blissfully unaware of how he had begun to rub off on you.

You found yourself daydreaming, caught up in your own little fantasies and escapes from reality, far more often than you had ever in your lifetime. Ezra, always the star at the center of it all. Living a life where you could stay with him somewhere more permanent, different career that didn’t require you both to float from planet to planet, chasing after prizes that weren’t actually yours- you just acted as a vessel, a taxi service for someone else’s riches.

You imagine scenarios where you would have met Ezra at a different time, or a different place. However, you often scolded yourself for allowing your stupid crush to occupy so much of your time. You were here for a job. And then you will leave and move on to your next one like always. It would be too painful to face rejection anyways, you reason. You can imagine the look on his face, thinking about the nicest way possible to reject you. That’s what you want to avoid, the pity. The niceties that will be forced after his inevitable rejection. The first friendship you’ve had the pleasure of having in years are gone just like that.

The pod was more spacious than the pod you would’ve been issued had it just been you and Ezra since the beginning. Two people sharing a pod designed for six felt much more like a livable space. More leg room, more spaces for privacy, it felt a little more like a studio apartment special wise than a glorified tent. You had even pushed a couple of the standard issue cots together and secured them tightly. You had the luxury of an extra pillow, and two of the thin mattress pads- it was like you had a full-size bed, with a beam running down the middle you did your best to cover by overlapping the mattress pads in the center. It was the most comfortable sleeping arrangement you’ve ever had on these expeditions.

Ezra and you strung a line across where both of your makeshift beds were positioned in the pod, and you hung a tarp across the line to make yourselves a privacy curtain. It was like you had your own room and he had his own as well. Ezra’s side was a little cleaner than yours, yours was a little cluttered with little mementos you find and want to bring back with you. Rocks, or small geodes… occasionally you’d bring back small plants that you double checked were nontoxic and you had them set up in makeshift planters- one of the crewmates that left abandoned an extra helmet that was damaged, and now you have an obscure green and purple plant sprouting up proudly from it.

Ezra’s side was much more standard. He had a pile of his old books, all of them weathered, looking like they’d been through hell and back. He had field books, and notebooks that held his years of accumulated knowledge of how he’s survived the Green. He ended up copying your bedding arrangement, and he agreed it was the most comfortable bed he’s had in years. He said it felt like a luxury a prospector like himself didn’t deserve. He also had a small collection of rocks that lined the ledge behind his bed. Little gifts from you, all of them.

“This one reminded me of you,” you’d say, passing him a unique rock while you struggled to keep the handful of the others you collected balanced in your hands. The grin on your face when you’d collect the little things was one of his favorite sights. When the partition that separated the beds was opened, it was a comical sight. Like a bedroom of a married couple on old television shows, where they had different beds and each side was decorated to that person’s tastes. Most of the time though, the partition was closed.

It made changing easier, the bathrooms and showers in pods no matter the occupancy size always had small, cramped bathrooms. However, it created a false sense of privacy because it did absolutely nothing in terms of suppressing noises. Ezra sometimes babbled nonsense in his sleep. The man literally unable to stop talking even when he was rendered unconscious. Most of the times it was completely incomprehensible, not even sounding like real words. Sometimes you’d hear a sentence maybe, but without knowing his dreams it was still alien to you. It was comforting to you hearing him on the other side of the partition, and knowing he was right on the other side made it easier for you to sleep.

Tonight, was no different, curled up in your bed, you were drifting off to sleep while Ezra had long fallen asleep before you. The weight of today’s expedition felt like it melted right off of your body as soon as your head hit the pillow. You were close to falling asleep, just savoring the moments of comfort before letting your mind drift when you heard Ezra say your name on the other side of the makeshift wall.

“What is it, Ezra?” you whisper, grumbling that he interrupted you right before falling asleep. He doesn’t respond, and instead you hear a low snore on the other side. He must’ve fallen back asleep, you figure, closing your eyes. They shoot open a few minutes later when he repeats your name again, but this time it’s a deep moan. His voice was husky and it sent a vibration right up the back of your spine. Your eyes widened at the realization that on the other side of the curtain, Ezra was dreaming about you. You shivered when he let out another involuntary, low groan. If you hadn’t been listening you probably wouldn’t have even heard it.

What do you do? You mind is racing with trying to figure out how to handle this situation. Do you wake him up? You also try your hardest to ignore how every small noise on the other side of the curtain is just going right to your core, making your thighs squeeze together while you keep your own arousal at bay. It was wrong of you to listen in, but you really don’t have much of a choice. You force yourself to take a few unsteady breaths to calm yourself, but it does nothing to ease you in your shocked state. Kevva, the noises he was making were like music. You often wondered what he would sound like. His voice on its own is already so perfect. But in this context? You wanted to hear nothing else.

You don’t even know how long you lay on your bed paralyzed before the temptation becomes too much and you are sliding one hand down the length of your torso and into your sleep shorts. You delicately slide your hand under your dampened underwear and your fingers instinctively find your clit. You bite your lip, trying your best to suppress the whimpers that escape your lips as you think about the man behind the partition. Your months of pining for him you finally let yourself submit to.

It had been a while. There was no privacy on the pod at any moment. When someone was using the shower, from the other room everyone could always hear the rustling around, if they were humming. It was better to just not try at all. The risk of getting caught was always too high. This was the first time you acknowledged and succumbed to your desires this entire mission. It had been so difficult to avoid, but now, you are taking advantage of the opportunity presenting itself to you. You weren’t even thinking twice, just closing your eyes and imaging the fingers inside you belonged to Ezra. You were so caught up in your own pleasure, you hadn’t noticed that Ezra’s side of the room had fallen silent.

Ezra sat up on his bed, His eyes fixated completely on the tarp that was the only thing separating him from you. He felt shameful, waking up from another dream about you. He woke up hard, and he felt immensely guilty. Then he heard your soft moans you were trying so hard to hold back. Now he sat on his bed, completely captivated by the noises on the other side, while he pleaded with himself to either make a move or just try to ignore it and get a few more hours of sleep. He snapped when he heard his name fall off your lips in a small whisper.

“I can feel you staring, Ezra,” he hears you say on the other side of the curtain. He smiles, probably ear to ear like a goddamn dopey teenager. He stands up and pulls the curtain back, and his breath catches in his throat at the sight of you laid out. You had stopped, knowing your statement would cause him to pull the curtain back, but the evidence of what you were doing still lingered- your hair sprawled out messy on the pillow, your sleepshirt haphazardly pushed up exposing the smooth skin and curves to him, the slick on your fingertips and the small wet spot on the front of your shorts. You looked up at him with doe eyes and he thought he might collapse on the floor at the sight of you.

“Flower,” he whispers breathlessly in the dark. The only light coming in was from the moonlight outside from the small window on your side you had opened. He thought you looked ethereal, a sight to behold that he was not worthy of gazing upon. He’s speechless. You can’t quite make out his facial expression in the dark and you mistake his breathless tone for discomfort.

“I’m so sorry,” you say, sitting up slightly. “I just... I heard you dreaming about me; we don’t have to bring this up again. Its just loneliness getting to me…”

He tentatively kneels down in front of your bed and you move to hide your face in the pillow so you don’t have to face him. He gently cups your face in his hand, and guides you back to face him. He actually says your name, and you might die hearing it on his lips.

“If what you say is true, and this is nothing more than a lapse in judgement, fueled by the loneliness of the Green, I swear to you I shall never as I live hold this moment against you, and you and I shall commence in the morning living like it never happened. But, if there is any chance these feelings that I have harbored for you are reciprocated, please grant me this opportunity to show you how much I am completely transfixed by you.”

You are now the one rendered speechless as you try to process the new information and the proposal Ezra has offered you. You are having difficultly allowing yourself to believe any of this or anything he says is true. Part of you was wondering if this was part of a dream and you hadn’t yet realized you were asleep. You had to reach out and touch his face, feeling his stubble under your touch, any sort of evidence to know he was physically right there.

“You’re real,” you mumble to yourself, and he chuckles. He takes the hand which you had rested on his face and he presses a kiss to your wrist.

“The number of times I have thought the same thing about you,” he mutters, moving your hand to press a gentle kiss to the back of it. “Flower, please…”

“This is more than a just a whim,” you admit, exhaling shakily, “Ezra… I love you.”

“Oh, how I’ve longed to hear those gracious words on your lips, flower,” he smiles, his gaze not breaking from your face.

You lean forward, capturing his lips in a kiss, unable to take being separated from him anymore. You move your lips against his and you can feel his smile as he moves to position himself on top of you, not even needing to break the kiss. Your limbs tangle with his, and you run your hands through his tousled curls, wanting to just let your hands touch every part of him that he would let you. He rests on hand on the back of your neck, while he uses the other to keep himself from putting all of his weight on you.

“You’re bewitching,” he says softly, as he pulls away from your lips to leave a trail of kisses and bites down your neck and collar bone. “Your beauty is unmatched by anything these tired eyes have ever witnessed,” he praises, as his hands move to slide nimbly under the fabric of your shirt.

He plans to take his time, to completely worship every part of your body and vocalize in every way how beautiful you are and how much he cares for you. His moments are slow, and sensual, making you feel like complete putty in his hands. He wants to savor absolutely every part of this shared moment. For so long has he dreamed about this, and so far, everything about you- your noises, your soft skin, all so much better than he ever envisioned. His calloused hands savor every inch of you they graze, committing how every part of you feels to his memory.

His moustache and stubble leave goosebumps behind on every part of your skin he kisses. He leaves a trail of marks behind that with time will definitely darken into small bruises, evidence he can gaze upon tomorrow to remind him this all was not just a dream. In his head, he pleads with his maker that if this is a dream may he please never wake up and suspend him in this sleep state forever. A small price to pay to have you entangled in his arms.

“I love you,” he repeats over and over as he kisses down your body, pressing kisses to every inch he can see and touch, just like he’s wanted to for so long in these strenuous months. His movements are gently, and you moan softly at the sensation of his knuckles grazing your skin as he pulls your shorts and underwear down your legs, leaving you know completely bare in front of him.

“I want to spend the rest of my days between these thighs,” he mumbles, pressing kisses to your inner thighs and his hands grab them and pull them apart gently. Like a man starved, his tongue works skillfully, giving you so much attention. Your hands tangle in his hair, and he sucks on your clit, making you cry out in pleasure. He loves the reactions he can elicit from you and he loves the taste of you. You’re as touched starved as he is and he wants nothing more than to stay between your legs for hours as you moan praises, and shudder under his touch. You back arches and you can’t help but squirm at the sensations, but he holds your legs gently, keeping you in place. The first time he brings you to orgasm is by his tongue, and you can taste yourself on his lips when he finally comes up for air.

You can’t even think of anything to say to reciprocate his words, your mind is hazy and you’re overcome with the feeling. He doesn’t seem to mind, and the look on his face almost proves how proud he is to be the one who’s the cause of your current state. He’s just so wrapped up in how your body is responding to his every move, he doesn’t care you’re completely speechless. The feeling of it all was just too much to try to attempt vocalizing coherent thoughts.

When he finally pushes himself inside you, it completely takes your breath away. He makes sure to go slow, taking his time and letting you adjust. He also needs to steady himself, because the feeling of you wrapped around him is incredible. It’s perfect, and he wants to take his time, but your so tight and feel so good, and it’s been so long since he’s experienced such an intimacy.

“You’re perfect,” you moan softly at the feeling of how he stretches you.

The compliments that fall from your lips, go right to his head, inflating his ego. His kisses become more frantic, and passionate. His hands shamelessly wander the length of your body, groping at the flesh, wanting to just worship every part of you, to just touch every part of you. His rhythm is slow at first, not wanting to cause you any discomfort, but you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in closer and his mind is frenzied at the sensation. His movements become much more sporadic, chasing his relief as you cry out how close you are as your face rests in the crook of his neck, leaving kisses and bites on his neck, leaving your own marks on him like you were returning the favor.

“Cum inside me, Ezra,” you whisper, nibbling his ear and he groans hearing something only in his dreams manifest in the flesh. “It’s safe.”

He bites his lip and you tug gently on the ends of his hair, a moaning mess under him. The way your face contorts when you orgasm for the second time and the sensation of your release is the final sensation that triggers his own. He collapses on top of you, resting his face in the crook of your neck, whispering again how perfect you are before pulling out and rolling over to lay beside you.

You both are breathing heavily, glistening with sweat and feeling euphoric after coming down from the high. Your chests rise and fall as you both work to catch your breath before either of you speak. It’s a comfortable silence, both of you trying to recover. He looks over to you, and you match his gaze. You roll over onto your stomach and rest your head on his chest, taking a few moments before cleaning up. You rest your arm across his torso and he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

Here, in the depths of this dangerous planet, you felt safe in his arms. The excruciatingly long days of physical labor, chasing after promises of riches feel fruitless now more than ever, because the best thing you ever found in the Green had been right next to you the entire time.

General Taglist:

@sassy-kassaay

@letsfly-andbe-free

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emotions-ew · 4 years ago

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A Collection of Queer Country Artists and Songs for anyone who doesn’t feel like there’s country music they can relate to...

There is this idea that country music is like just Republican men singing about beer, and trucks and also Jesus, and that is kind of fair because loads of it is but there are some cool as hell queer/lgbtq+ country artists. Finding those and finding that representation in a genre of music I was literally raised on kind of changed my life in a tiny way and I wanted to share that.

(This is by no means a comprehensive list and also I’m basing the “Country” part of this sometimes on my subjective opinion/limited music knowledge so yuh please don’t hate me if I get some wrong)

Also link below for a Spotify playlist of my favourite gay/gayish country music, some mentioned in this post some not, (with a title that isn’t obviously gay for anyone who can’t openly listen to gay stuff on their public accounts for whatever reason) so feel free to skip the massive essay and just jump straight to that. And pretty please repost if I missed anyone/ any songs you love.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7KB6PmUxnpkU7lih8Bysvw

Artists To Follow:

Chely Wright

- Right off the bat, Chely Wright is a legend and I’m in love with her. So, in the 90′s Chely Wright was kind of a huge deal. She started her career as a singer/songwriter and released her first album in ‘94, which was critically acclaimed although never reached the commercial success of her later works. By ‘97 she was really hitting her stride, dropping her breakout hit “Shut up and Drive” (a personal favourite of mine) followed two years later by the biggest hit of her career “Single White Female”. Throughout all that Chely Wright was, to the world, a good old fashioned, heterosexual southern gal. Privately it was a bit of a different story. She had public relationships with male country artists, all while pursuing a secret decade long relationship with a woman.

I hadn’t ever really heard a Chely Wright song until a few years ago so I never knew about her music or career pre-coming out but I do know that even though by the time she came out in 2010 she was by no means at the height of her fame Chely Wright is kind of one of the biggest names in country music to be out and proud (in my opinion) and I love her like an insane amount. I literally play her music in my car when I have passengers just so I can be like “fun fact this singer is actually gay-” and then subject them to a lengthy explanation of her entire career. She came out with an album and a memoir and the album is my favourite of her work because it’s so fucking raw and because I relate to most of it immensely. Anyways Chely Wright went fucking through it in her journey to being her authentic self and now she’s out and proud and married to a woman and they have a family together and I’m a fucking sucker for a happy ending and y’all should add her to every playlist you have. And on top of that her music is genuinely good. Coming out undoubtedly damaged her career but I think that

Brandi Carlile

- As far as I can tell Brandi Carlile has been out her whole career. I feel like this list is just going to be me saying “I’m in love with her” about a bunch of women old enough to be my mother but in my defence, I am honestly in love with her. She’s been making music since she was like, seventeen, and has had a bunch of massive hits, as a singer, songwriter, and producer. If you want to cry kind of happy tears listen to her performance of “Bring my Flowers Now” with Tanya Tucker. She’s won Grammy’s and CMT awards and she’s done it all as an out Queer woman. She’s also a founding member of The Highwomen, an all-female country music group who released their first album in 2019, comprised of Carlile, Marren Morris, Natalie Hemby and Amanda Shires. I really love this band because they’re four artists who are immensely successfully in their own right collabing, much like the Highwaymen, and their music is phenomenal while also being a fuck you to mainstream country music and their inability to properly represent women in country music spaces.

She’s been married to a woman (smoking hot and also brilliant) since 2012 and they have two kids together and if you want to cry (again) then you have to listen to her song “Mother” about her eldest daughter. A queer country artist absolutely worth adding to all your playlists.

Brooke Eden

- As I understand it Eden came out publicly in January of this year. She’s engaged to Hilary Hoover, who she’s been dating since 2015 apparently. I can’t even imagine the pressure that must be on a person and how stressful it would be to keep a relationship secret from the whole world for years and personally I think they’re a cute as hell couple and I wish them literally all the happiness in the world.

Brooke Eden has a few older songs that I think are really good, my favourite being “Act Like You Don’t”, and while her new stuff isn’t my usual country vibe I am a sucker for literally anything gay and it is legally my gay duty to stream any song that she releases to support my fellow queer. It’s quite different to anything Wright or Carlile sing but I actually kind of love that because it shows that country music of all different shapes and sizes and styles can be sung by queer artists.

Amythyst Kiah

- Okay so I am a very new listener to Amythyst Kiah, but her music is literally so beautiful it would be a straight up sin to not include her on this list. Her music is country-blues-roots esq (more roots than country, I think?) and her voice is so unique. She grew up in Chattanooga and has been playing music since childhood. She recently made her Opry debut which is fucking awesome. She also belongs to a band called Our Native Daughters, described as “A supergroup of Black women in traditional music”. Their debut album “Songs of Our Native Daughters” did numbers and I haven’t listened to the whole thing but my favourite so far are “Black Myself” and “I Knew I Could Fly” so y’all add that to your playlists along with “Wild Turkey” by Amythyst Kiah because holy hell her voice on that will blow your mind.

Steve Grand

- The first man to make this list, he should frankly be honoured. Grand has been an out and proud gay man making country music since like 2013, and I have so much respect for an artist who chose to simply never be in, choosing instead to simply write gay ass songs about being in love with men and letting the chips fall where they man. His music is always going to have a special place in my heart and, he’s cute so if you’re into men and music by men give him a google. add him to your playlists, his All-American Boy album is literally just a dozen songs that are perfect to yell-sing along to.

Katie Pruitt

- Not hugely knowledgeable on Katie Pruitt but her music makes me feel crazy intense emotions and is absolutely gay

Honorable Mention Artists I haven’t Really Listened to But Who I Know to be gay thanks to google and might be your thing so totally check them out:

Brandy Clark

Ty Herndon

Shelly Fairchild

Lavendar Country

Trixie Mattel

Cameron Hawthorn

Drop any other names of artists or songs you know of

Specific Songs That Make Me Fucking Cry or (in good and bad ways (but always in a gay way)) or basically are just gay as hell:

If She Ever Leaves Me; The Highwomen

- So, this album came out about a week before my first (and only) girlfriend broke up with me. The general gist of the song is a woman singing about how her loved isn’t ever going to leave her but if she does it sure as hell won’t be for a creepy man in a bar. A little ironic that I felt I related to it so intensely, considering she did in fact leave me. There’s this one lyric that goes “I’ve loved her in secret/I’ve lover here out loud/the sky hasn’t always been blue” and my girlfriend and I were crazy deep in the closet so I drew her a cute little picture of a grey cloud and on the back I wrote that lyric and I gave it to her and to me it was kind of a promise that one day I’d get a chance to love her out loud and even though I never actually did this song is forever going to make me cry because of the little bit of hope that lyric gave me and the way it’s inclusion on this overwhelmingly mainstream country album made me feel like acceptance was just that little bit closer.

All American Boy; Steve Grand

- Definitely one of the first gay country songs I ever heard, and Steve Grand didn’t once sacrifice a scrap of country for the gay. It’s beautiful, it’s a little sad, it’s hopeful. It’s forever going to hold a special place in my heart and the music videos is kind of one of my favourites ever. I found this song before I found myself and the way it made my heart warm should have been a stronger sign than I took it to be.

Like Me; Chely Wright

- When you love someone you kind of make it your mission to know them in a way that no one else can. This song by Chely Wright is sort of an ode to that, and how even once you lost someone, you’re still going to know every little thing about them. On top of that it sort of speaks to the idea that all these things Wright learned about this woman, she learned in secret and she knew her and loved her in secret and now that they’re gone from each other she’s left with all of this knowledge and all of these questions and no one to answer them. I love the way it’s so slow and the melody and her voice, the way it’s low and a little raspy, make this one of my favourite Chely Wright songs.

The Mother; Brandi Carlile

- Sorry but a song about being a mother by a queer woman is going to make me cry every time and actually I’m not that sorry. It’s quite a simple song, if any song written by Brandi Carlile can ever be described as ‘simple’, it’s an ode to her daughter. My favourite line is “you are not an accident/where no one thought it through” because it speaks to the fact that in order for queer women to have a kid together they have to want it so damn bad and also I just like the way her voice sounds on that line. This song is also the perfect thing to listen to if you ever for a second feel like being gay/queer is going to stand in the way of you having a family because it absolutely doesn’t have to and if that’s something you want, you can have it. Don’t let people try and convince you otherwise.

Loving Her; Katie Pruitt

- Unapologetic gay love. Opening a song with “If loving hers a sin, I don’t wanna go to heaven” is a fucking baller move and she went there. The lyrics are beautiful, and her voice is phenomenal. It could be a sad song, about confronting religious repression and grappling with what that means for your love, but instead its triumphant. Katie Pruitt doesn’t give a fuck if you have a problem because she’s going to write songs for her lover.

Jesus From Texas; Semler

- Not actually totally sure this is a country song, but it has the words ‘Jesus’ and ‘Texas’ in the title so I feel safe including it in this list. Honestly, I don’t really know why I relate so hard to this song. Like, I wasn’t really raised with religion, so I don’t know what it is about this funky little tune that makes me want to sob but there’s something about this tune that makes me want to do whatever the opposite of get up and dance is, but like, in a good way.

Lovin’ Again; Steve Grand

- Breakup song that ends kind of positively? So good to sing along to at high, high volumes. The idea that losing someone doesn’t have to mean losing yourself and just because you can’t love them doesn’t mean you’re not ever going to love again. But also kind of about how it’s hard to get over someone, I don’t know it’s just good.

Cryin’ These Cocksucking Tears; Lavender Country

- Jesus christ if this isn’t the coolest shit I’ve ever heard in my life. Sorry but a gay country group formed in 1972 who dropped possibly the first gay themed country album, and this was the title of one of the songs. God I am in love.

Songs that (to me) are a little fruity or that I just relate to in a gay way:

Picket Fences; Chely Wright

- Chely Wright is gay but this song came out long before she did and when she wrote it, it wasn’t supposed to be gay which is why it’s in this section and not the previous. The reason it’s included at all is because frankly ma’am, Mrs Wright, it’s a little fruity. And I feel a little bad for joking because honestly to me, the way I hear this song and knowing the context (that Wright was deeply closeted at the time she wrote and released it), it’s kind of just sad. The general gist of the song is Wright asking what’s so great about a traditional lifestyle anyways. It could be read as a woman genuinely questioning why we push that expectation that she’ll have two kids and a husband and a picket fence lifestyle, or even could be read as a woman who’s trying to deflect how much she does in fact want that, you have to listen and form your own opinion. But to me, it feels like a woman who’s desperately trying to justify why she doesn’t want that life not because she can’t have it, but she knows it will never be right for her. I don’t know it’s hard to explain I just feel like this song is a little bit gay even though I’m sure she didn’t intend that.

Sinning with You; Sam Hunt

- Sorry but this song is gay. Sorry but you can’t write the lines “I never felt like I was sinning with you/Always felt like I could talk to God in the morning” and “if it’s so wrong why did it feel so right” and “But I never felt shame, never felt sorry/Never felt guilty touching your body” and not to mention the opening line of “raised in the first pew/praises for yeshua/case of a small town repression”, and expect to not sit in my car sobbing as I realised that while I never felt like what we did was a sin she absolutely did, and wishing I could have told her that I was sorry for making her carry the weight of both our souls but also that it wasn’t a sin and nothing in the world could feel that good and be that bad and it isn’t right that she had to be so ashamed of something that was just so good. Sam Hunt actually said after he wrote the song that while it was reflection on his own relationship with faith he genuinely hopes that people in the lgbtq community can like find comfort or whatever in his words and like go off king, we stan an ally.

How do I Get There; Deana Carter

- This ones easy, it’s about falling in love with your best friend and suddenly realising you want more than just friendship with them. Sorry Deana, that’s gay. In my Deana Carter of like Year 10 I played this song on repeat and screamed along to the lyrics as though singing it hard enough would make her like me back.

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