#trust me i wished i was far more patient with drawing or i would draw yoon all the time

[eternitas]

Tell us about your bun boy, the world needs to know about him. Who cares if it isn't lore compliant

@wanderin-rook @deathmeddle @saanphoenix @niceaxephotos

Okay so because these people were so kind to indulge me and ask, allow me to give you a short introduction to Yoon before I give you an actual sheet with his stats and all

Also DISCLAIMER: I am not through with A Realm Reborn and therefor have limited knowledge of Vierra so most of this is NOT canon compliant.

So

This.

Is Yoon

Yoon is a Vierra from the Ishgardian snowy mountains. Due to his village and subesquently his baby sister falling terribly ill he took her down the mountain to find someone who could cure her, but ended up in Gridania where he stayed for a good bit. He is NOT A WOL, he is more of a support character for my WOLs squad. Since he is skilled with a spear/lance he later down the line takes up a job as a dragoon. He also has a boif, called Lemuel (played by my irl fiance @kyuji)

I will get to their story later bc its Spicey with a capital S

Here are more in depth stats and a more thorough recount of his story until he arrived in Gridania. Also beware of bigger Font for readability.

Name: Yoon Dorochnewesfv

Age: he never talks about his age, but you can count him around 20ish in human years at the beginning of "A Realm Reborn"

Lineage: Vierra - Veena

Birthplace: Ishgard East Mountainrange/ Yaga village

More info: Yaga Village is an interesting one in its history, as it has been established many many generations ago. Its history is passed down oraly by the elder female Veena and says that they were once send by a divine power to guard the lucious mountains, but with time the climate changed and it became a landscape of ice and snow. However the Vierra could not abandon what they promised to protect and so they stayed in Yaga for centuries, adapting to the new climate. While it is one village its population is divided into different families, named after old Viera matriarchs. Dorochnewes was one of them.

Affiliation: Gridania

Class/Job: Lancer, later Dragoon (tho also versed with a bow)

Status: mated to Lemuel

Physical Describtion: Yoon is a Snow Mountain Veena with almost completely white skin, white hair and white ears and tail. Only the tips of his ears, the tip of his tail and his toes are black/dark blue furred. He has feint freckles in his face, his left eye is white while his right eye is a deep blue. Originally both eyes were blue, but due to an injury he sustained on his trip down the mountain he got partially blind on his left eye and bears a scar on the side of his face. His hair is a bit longer than shoulder length and he has the natural height of Vieras, though among his species he is average in height to slightly shorter. He has very strong legs as most Vierra and rabbit feet with white furr and black toes. Different to other Vierras those of his village have the ability to cover their skin with a layer of furr when in cold regions so there is little need to bundle up for them. The furr falls off and sheds in warmer regions and is, as most of Yoon, completely snow white.

Backstory:

Born as the middle child of a renowned huntress in the tribe, there was a lot of hope in Yoon to be female, as his older sibling turned out male, which was seen as a disappointment to the tribe. His mother did not love him any less and only two years, after his younger siblings birth, his father died. All the more disappointment was once it became clear that Yoon was a male Vierra, which made his mother now have two sons and not a single heiress.

But not shortly after his younger sibling Taya was confirmed to be female, the entire tribe was slowly falling ill to a terrible disease. By then Yoon had been out on his own for quite a few years only hearing of the illness from other male Vierra that visited the tribe. Since his mating cycle was coming close he decided to make an earlier visit to the tribe and to check on his family only to find his mother and little sister terribly ill. By now even a few male Vierras had contracted the disease, however they seemed to recover with little issue while the female population seemed to suffer greatly and even die from it.

His mother knew she was not going to make it and sent Yoon with his sister down the mountain to get at least their youngest into a city where she could get medical treatment, as the tribe was incapable of finding a cure. Yoon knew this would lead to them being banished, but promised to take his sister to safety. He then made his way down the mountain, giving whatever he could hunt to his sister and keeping her alive, while he got by with mere scraps. He went slowly and steadily to make sure he wouldn't overexert his young sister, taking breaks to warm up and let her get some proper sleep.

It's during his way down that he, delirious and weak from little nourishment and sleep deprivation, slips during a snowstorm and tumbles down a steeper and cliffier path, causing him to gravely injure his left side of his face and damaging his eye. He took some time to take care of himself and Taya, who he could luckily shield enough to not get hurt, and with newfound strength made his way further down. However when he came to Coerthas he was met with closed gates and hostility as the nation of Ishgard was in grave tension due to their fight with the dragons. At least one helpful individual by the name of Estinien directed him south towards Gridania, saying Yoon should ask there for a cure.

On his way to Gridania he traverses the forests, unable to hunt, due to his new adjustment to his eyes and being unable to blend in with the green flora. He pushed through by sheer willpower and eventually collapsed in the City of New Gridania, being taken in by Mother Miounne and given a temporary stay to recover. So now Yoon was in Gridania, a place completely different from his home and taking care of his very ill sister. He is aware that he will need money to come by, pay for their stay and especially Tayas treatment so he joins the adventure guild and becomes a Lancer. However doing quests and hunting himself manages to pose itself as a big difficulty. Yoons entire appereance is natural to a snowy and rocky environment with little to no vegetation and he just recently lost most of his eyesight in one eye, having to relearn how to aim and see the world.

It's during this time that he meets another Vierra.... Lemuel.

Character: Yoon is not too hard to read if you are familiar with vierran expression through their ears. His face seems very unmoving and his tone usually stays the same, but his ears give him away far easier as he never had the need to control that. He does learn to open up and be more expressive around people he knows and likes, to strangers however he is cold and distant at first. He is awkward with other people and gets along better with other men, while he has great respect and shows politeness to women and non binary individuals. He is by no means uncaring, sometimes even being too caught in his own emotions as he left to the villages outskirts in his teens only one year after being fully identified as male. He has therefore little social skills and doesnt know much about ettiquette or how to handle his own emotions. Due to the Party, especially the Miqo'te girl Anayeli, he learns to understand emotions and social interactions more, however it often still shows, that he just comes from a completely different background.

He is often led by instinct and his learned skills as a hunter, prioritizing  survival over anything else, that he almost naturally sacrifices his own comfort. As a Vierra male that grew up in the snowy mountains he doesnt do well with heat and had a hard time adjusting to the new climate or the forest environment (Thanalan is his personal nightmare). It's usually uncomfortable for him to stand out due to his appereance, but with time most Gridanians learned to just let him be and do his thing and not stare, because it will trigger his flight instincts. He can be quite childish, when he does feel comfortable and as he had not run a single mating cycle yet has little sexual experience (until he meets Lem). It is his long term goal to find a cure for his sister and if possible bring the cure to the last remaining Vierra of his tribe and to fulfill that goal he is willing to go great lengths tho he has his principles and sticks to them, trying to live a life of which his mother would be proud and he has not to be ashamed of.

Trivia:

-Yoon can not swim. He never needed to learn. Lem teaches him to at least not completely drown.

-as with most Vierra his ears are very sensitive and he puts special wachs mixed with cotton in his ears to dull the noise. It is also why he prefers the quiet nature more than bustling groups of people

-Yoon doesnt exactly see himself as part of the Gridanian population and more as an outsider that happens to stay in the city, which makes him far more sympathetic with some of the wild tribes than most

-his favourite food is Honey Custard Tart, a sweet baked good that is filled with a custard that is mixed with honey and a honey glace on top. He never tasted honey before so when he got the good as a reward from a comission he got immideatly hooked.

-As the mountains are not as rich in vegetation as the forest Yoon was much more prone to have a meat heavy diet, which is only proven more by his sharp teeth and canines, that almost seem to match more Miqo'tes teeth. However he does prefer to have a vegetarian diet if he can help it.

-Yoons brother Eleesh disappeared about a year before the disease befell their tribe and its unknown if he died or not

-While they don't show much PDA, Yoon and Lem have a very active sex life, with Yoon being the one with the driving libido.

-as with most Vierra, Yoons strongest aspect are his legs. He can jump pretty high and far and is a very fast runner, being able to zigg zagg and make quick turns rather easily.

-and yes. He has pawbeans

-Usually Viera give up their forest names after having left their tribe, but Yoon holds onto his name as it is the last remains he has of his mother. However he does emphasize that he prefers to be called by his first call name instead of his full name or last name, as it is a very personal detail to him. He will often introduce himself as "Yoon. Just Yoon is fine."

-he finds Miqo'te to be unnerving due to their intense eyes and the natural predator disposition, Elezen to be unnerving for their height and especially Au'ra men for their size and sharp scales. Roegadyn and Hrothgar, no matter the gender, instinctly trigger his flight response.

-despite being dispositioned as prey, Yoon is very skilled with his lance and an incredible hunter... at least in the snowy mountains. In Gridania he passes as average when it comes to hunting, so he is much more prone to choose flight as an option.

More unrelated pictures as done by @kyuji

I will post the couple ones in my follow up

Thank you for reading!!!!

[candy69gurl]

INSUBORDINATION

PAIRING Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

SYNOPSIS The reader, a young woman of wealth, is married to Toji and consistently treats him as her servant, much to his dismay. Fed up with her behavior, Toji resolves to teach her a lesson.

WARNING non/con, brat taming, spitting, face fucking, hair pulling, spanking, face slapping, fingering, nipple play, missonary, bondage (hands tied only), cock riding, squirting, doggy style, multiple orgasms, degradation, use of vulgar words (dog, bitch, slut, whore, cum slut), humiliation, raw sex (cumming inside mouth, creampie, face cumming), breeding kink, clit slapping & rubbing, man handling

Marrying this seemingly charming and powerful Toji Fushiguro, you believed it imparted a greater benefit upon him than it did upon yourself. His overwhelming infatuation for you was not reciprocated, and instead, you treated him more as a pet than a partner. As a young, rich woman with an air of superiority, you demanded his obedience and submission, constantly reminding him of his place. You were unaware of the brewing storm inside him, waiting to unleash its fury upon you. Little did you know, the love and adoration he had for you were a ticking time bomb about to go off. The way he was treated drove him insane, pushing him to the brink of insanity, and he couldn't take it anymore.

"Hmm, so.. Toji I would like to talk to you, my dear", your eyes never leaving your nails.

Toji glares at you, his eyes smouldering with rage and lust stored inside him. Despite his inner turmoil, he forces a smile and responds, "My lady, I am here." His voice drips with false sincerity, reflecting the pain within him. It's clear that every moment spent serving you gnaws at his soul, fueling his desire to teach you a lesson you will never forget. Yet, he can't let you sense his true intentions - not yet.

He waits patiently, his muscles tensing beneath his clothes, as he anticipates your command. His heart pounds wildly against his chest, and his mind racing with thoughts of revenge and domination. He knows that he's about to snap anytime.

"I need you to stop wasting my money on gambling", your gaze finally shifts from your nails to Toji, who's standing before you with his head bowed.

A chill runs down Toji's spine as he hears your words. Your demand has cut him deeper than any blade could, igniting a firestorm of emotions within him.

How can he possibly stop himself from doing that? It's his sole means of earning money for himself. And it's not like he constantly relies on your finances for that. But the way you phrased your money, it really struck a nerve and left him feeling utterly humiliated. He understood that you were implying he should beg you for money, but that's something he would never do.

He tries to maintain his composure, swallowing the bitter taste that filled his mouth. With a stiff nod, he replies, "As you wish, my lady. I shall cease all gambling activities and dedicate myself entirely to your needs. But I would like you to stop ordering me around"

"Excuse me? who do you think you are?", one of your eyebrows raised, utterly confused by his sudden back-talk.

Toji's eyes flash with defiance, and his voice take on a dangerous edge, "I am your husband, a man scorned and abandoned. I have given you everything I have, my love, my heart, my trust. Yet, I receive nothing in return. I am sick of being treated like a mere toy. My passion for you burns like a thousand suns, and it is time you recognized my worth!" His face contorts with rage and hurt, his entire body trembling with suppressed power. "Do not mistake my patience for weakness, for I am far from it. One day, you will learn the consequences of disregarding those who truly care for you."

Your countenance remain devoid of emotion as he uttered those words. Instead, you advance towards him, drawing nearer... and nearer... until you stand face-to-face. Despite his height advantage, you are aware of the superiority you hold.

In an instant, your hand delivers a sharp slap to his face, causing his head to jerk to the right. "How dare you talk to me like that?"

Your slap lands across Toji's cheek with a loud smack, jolting him back to reality. His eyes widen, shock etching lines onto his face. For a brief moment, he stand frozen, the sting of your hand burning a trail across his pale skin. Then, without warning, his expression twists into one of pure fury. In a single, fluid motion, he grabs your wrist and pins you on the ground.

"GET OFF ME YOU SICKO", you scream.

Toji snarls, his eyes blazing with a feral intensity. "No, little miss high-and-mighty, I decide when this ends. You've played your games, and now it's time to pay the price," he growls, his grip on your wrist tightening. He leans closer, his hot breath washing over your face as he whispers, "You thought I was weak and submissive, but you sorely underestimated me. I am a man consumed by desire and rage, and I will make you pay for your cruelty."

His other hand moves to fondle with your clothed breasts, "Coming to think of it.. I never touched.. Maybe tonight is the time .. I finally discover your secrets."

"Don't even think of it.. Move your filthy hands off me!!" your legs pushing his chest away from your body.

Toji's eyes narrow, his lips curling into a predatory smile. "Oh, I think I've already discovered your secrets, my dear. You're just as desperate for my touch as I am for yours. You can scream all you want, but no one will come to save you. You're mine, and I will have my way with you."

His grip on your wrist intensifies and he begins to move his hand lower, towards your thigh. "You've pushed me too far, and now it's time for you to learn a lesson you'll never forget. I'll make you beg for my touch, and when I'm done, you'll be mine completely."

"I should have kept a body guard..", your eyes get teary as you start feeling vulnerable. The thing that you hated the most.

Toji's eyes flicker with a hint of victory at your admission. "Yes, perhaps you should have," he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. "But it's too late now. There's no one coming to save you."

His fingers trail along the edge of your clothing, teasingly close to bare skin. "I plan to make it as painful and pleasurable as possible. You'll come to cherish these moments, begging for more, even as you curse my name."

His eyes gleam with malicious intent as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "Every benefit you receive carries a price; for the service I've rendered you over the years, my dear wife, I require my due compensation. I'm not interested in payments via cheque, cash, or phone apps. I seek recompense through your body."

"I will never.. ever.. submit to you .. Toji Fushiguro..", you land kick on his side, attempting to run away from his grasp, yet he remains unaffected. He does grunt as your kick connected with his side, but he doesn't release you. Instead, he smirks, his gaze heated. "You.. Keep struggling, but you're only making this worse for yourself. Give in to me, let me show you the pleasure you've denied yourself for so long."

Slowly, he slides his hand underneath your clothing, his fingertips brushing against your skin unclasping your bra, taking it off you easily. You squirm beneath him, but his grip remains firm, unwavering.

"D-dont do it ..", you try squirming again.

Toji's lips twitch into a cruel grin. "Ah, but I must. After all, I promised to teach you a lesson, and I always keep my promises." His fingers continues their relentless exploration, caressing your nipple gently before pinching it firmly.

"Feel it, wife. Feel the pleasure I can give you, even as I punish you. Let your body betray your reluctance, let it crave what you claim to despise." He leans in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear as he whispers, "And remember, this is all ya fault. You made me this way."

You buck beneath him, trying to escape his grasp, but his hold on you unyielding. He pushes your top up, yanking it off you, exposing your breasts.

"S-stop ..", your hands escapes his grip swiftly, trying to hide your bare chest from his monstrous gaze.

Toji's eyes roams over your exposed body hungrily, drinking in the sight of your exposedness for the first time. "Such beauty, wasted on someone like you..."

He reaches out, his finger trailing down your sternum, then moving to your neck, causing goosebumps to rise. Your hands pushing his face, gripping his hair, trying to yank him off you.. But everything fails. And you know if you try hitting him, it'll enrage him further. Your hits are nothing in comparison to the hits requried to knock this giant man down.

Toji chuckles darkly, his grip on you unbreakable. "You cannot escape me, my dear. Not tonight." His fingers dance lightly along your collarbone, tracing patterns that sent chills down your spine. "You wanted control, you craved dominance, and now you shall experience both in equal measure."

As his fingers reaches your breast, he gently slapped your hands and, cupped your breasts, squeezing slightly before letting go. His eyes sparkling with mischief as he watches you writhe under his touch. "Soon, you'll beg for more."

Refusing to yield, you remain steadfast in your refusal to submit to him. You attempt to land kicks once again, this time more haphazardly and with greater force.

Toji catches one of your legs easily, his eyes gleaming with a mix of anger and lust. "Keep struggling, wife. Make it harder on yourself." He responds, his voice thick with emotion. His gaze lingers on your body, taking note of every twitch and shiver.

With a swift movement, he rolls you onto your stomach, restraining your arms behind your back, squeezing your face on the ground. His veins bulged on his hands as he gripped your hair tightly, pressing your cheeks against the cold floor with force.

Toji smirked, enjoying the fight in you. He pressed his body against yours, his erection evident through his clothes. "What happened to the lioness?" he mocked. "Got defeated by a mere dog?"

He reaches for your hefty priced skirt, ripping it down, revealing your bare ass. His hand hovers over it for a moment before bringing it down, delivering a sharp slap. You cry out in surprise and pain, arching your back.

"Fuck you that dress's worth is more than yours", Toji's eyes fall on your reddened teary-face. He gazes for a while before laughing cruelly, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

"Is that all you can muster, a reprimand for my actions? I thought you'd beg for mercy by now." His hand falls again, this time harder, the sting of the slap searing through your body.

"You are tough I must say" He speaks, his voice dark and heavy with emotion. His eyes flash with mischief as he prepared for his next move.

"L-let me go now", your tone somehow shifts to a plea.

He looks down at your red, angry cheeks and puffy lips, his gaze shifting to your ass, the imprints of his five fingers are distinctly visible on your skin. "Shall I?"

"YOU WILL LET ME GO BASTARD i WILL KILL YOU," you yell at him, hating the way he was treating you, as if he owns you.

Toji pulls you up by your hair, leaning closer to your face, "Looks like you haven't learned your lesson yet. Need to shut that big mouth,"

You forcefully expel saliva from your mouth, deliberately directing it towards his face, "Never."

Toji's face flashes with a grin as he wipes off your spit from his face and licks his finger, his grip on your hair tightening. "Nasty bitch!" he snarls. His free hand frees his erection and you gasp on seeing how big he is. Big enough to nearly kill you.

"W-what the fuck do you think you are doing", you swallowed in anticipation.

Without responding, he pulls your mouth towards his erection, rubbing the tip on your swollen lips.

Your hands reach up to squeeze his shaft, intending to hurt him. Toji winces, his eyes flashing with pain and anger. "You really don't want to die, do you?" His voice shaking with fury as he grasps your wrists, locking them on either side of his legs, his precum leaking shaft rubbing against your cheek. "This is your punishment, and you're going to take it like a good girl."

Despite your resistance, he thrusts his erection into your mouth, forcing you to take him off. You could barely take in his entire length as drool cascades down your chin and your neck swells with every push. You struggle but he remains firm, so you use your teeth, nibbling on his dick.

Toji hisses in pain and anger, releasing you. "You fucking cunt! I should've known better." He slaps you, causing you to cry out in agony. "That's for biting me!" He grabs your hair again, pulling your head toward his dick and begins to thrust roughly.

"Hnghh-", tears stream down your cheeks, smudging your flawless makeup.

Toji's eyes squint seeing you cry, his lips curling up trying to hide his laugher. "Crying? That's cute. You're crying while servicing me!" His grasp on your head tightens as he keeps fucking your throat relentlessly. "Didn't think you could handle it huh? Too bad, because this is just beginning!"

Your eyes twitching in anger, you keep making noises of struggles.

Toji's thrusts increasing in speed. "Shut up, you ungrateful whore! This is what you deserve!" He slamms into you harder, ignoring your protests.

Why is he acting like that all of a sudden? You never thought the man you married is going to treat you like this. But yes karma, you have hurt him, you made him like this. HE IS RIGHT, you deserve this.

His grip tightened on your hair, his thrusts growing more violent until you screamed, tears streaming down your face. Finally, he cums, flooding your mouth with his seed. "Swallow it. I want to see your Adam's apple moving."

You involuntary swallow his seed. Toji stares at you, his breathing ragged, his eyes fixated on the sight of you swallowing his semen. "Good dog," he sneers, wiping his shaft clean.

You wipe your mouth weakly, "I will never forgive you. You are gonna face the consequences."

Toji chuckles coldly, releasing you. "Oh, the night just started.." He picks you up walking towards your bedroom.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT.. WE ARE DONE.. I AM GOING TO FUCKING DIVORCE YOU", you throw punches on his spine, your nails scratcing his clothed back.

Ignoring your threats, Toji places you on bed, tying your hands with his XXL tshirt to the headboard. His eyes glinting with excitement. "We're far from done, darling. Now, spread your legs, or shall I do it for you?"

"You are not allowed to touch me.. TOJI FUSHIGURO!"

Toji grins wickedly," Oh yeah?", with a swift movement he pulls your panties off you. You legs hiding your core from his gaze. His eyes locked on your resistant form. " He reaches down, spreading your legs apart with force. Your protest is soon silenced by a hard slap accross your clit.

"Now Now.. Look at that," he gathers your wetness with his finger and licks it, "Taste of a bitch in heat."

You bite your lower lip from embarassment. Toji's eyes darkens with lust, his fingers running through your damp entrance, teasing your hole. "You're so wet, yet you are protesting? Ah, I love it." He smirks before inserting his finger inside you, feeling you tense. His eyes searching for your reaction.

"You are lying.. It's not possible-", you still keep on protesting.

Toji pulls his finger, "Hmm?" He raises his eyebrow at you, "Am I? Prove me wrong!" He inserts another finger, stretching you wide. You gasp, arching your back. "Mmm, see for yourself", he then pulls his fingers out. He holds his fingers near your face, covered in your essence, "See?", forcing them into your mouth making you taste yourself.

Your eyes widening, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Toji's eyes gleam triumphantly, his fingers finding their way back inside you. "Pretend all you want, but your body knows the truth." His thumb rubbed your clit, expecting a moan from you. "You want to feel my cock inside you, and let us both know the truth."

"D-do what you want.. but I will not moan."

Toji's grin never wavered as he pulled out his finger. "Stubborn till the end, aren't we?"

He adjusts his position above you, his erection poised to enter you. "Very well, but you won't be able to help yourself soon enough." Before you can react, he thrusts into you roughly, invading your core. He groans at the tightness, his pace increasing.

Your hands tugging on the restraint, eyes watering again from the invasion. He leans in, whispering in your ear, "Let me hear it, your pleasure."

"F-fuck fuck.. pull it out already.. Toji", you nearly beg him.

Toji does not pull out instead he leans back, his dick sliding inside you further hitting your womb as tears spill out of your eyes from the stretching.

"Ohh.. What a sight to behold! The mistress is crying.. Is that how you request your controller?", he slows down a little.

"Please.. Toji... pull it out already", you feel your insides getting ripped everytime he pushes himself in you.

Toji laughs darkly, "Call me master Toji"

"Bastard", you reply.

He starts thrusting, roughly and harshly. "You want to die?"

"Pls master toji .. It's tearing me," your voice shaking with pain and confused pleasure.

His thrusts slows down again, his eyes scanning your tear-streaked face. "That's right. Who owns you?"

"Y-you..", you reply, your self respect crumbled against Toji's feet.

He smiles cruelly, "Mmm... What's that? I wanted to pull out, but your walls are not allowing me to." with that he keeps slamming into you. This time gentlier than before. Your face twisting in anger and tears.

"No, no..." he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your forehead softly. "It's alright. Embrace your submissive nature. You'll thank me later." His thrusting intensifies, his pace accelerating. You whimper, unable to control your pleasure. "It feels good hah?"

"N-no it does not," you lie. Toji's eyes glint at your lie. 'We will see about that" as he speeds up his thrusts, pulling your nipple causing you to cry even louder.

Suddenly moan escapes from your mouth, biting your lips you hide your shift your head right avoiding eye contact with him.

"There it is!" he whispers, his thrusts growing more erratic. "Didn't you just say, you won't moannn?" his mocking evident. "That's it, let go! Enjoy it!" He rams into you, owning you fully.

Your eyes locking on his again. "You look so beautiful, when you are this vulnerable and submissive." His words, punctuated by his thrusts, your moans filling the air. "So obedient..."

Your walls tighten, your climax reaching soon. Toji's thrusts slow down as he realizes your nearness. "Not yet..." He pulls his dick out, causing you to cry out.

"I decide when you cum. Remember that." He reaches down, playing with your clit. "Beg for it."

You look at him, your mind still not wanting to give in.

"Beg for it, or I will keep doing this the whole night" He repeats, his voice firm.

He strokes his cock, your eyes widened, realizing the threat. "Please Toji, let me cum.." Your voice trembled, your body tensing.

"Please what?", he smirks biting his lips.

"P-Please master..", you pout after saying the words.

Toji smirks, placing the tip back to your entrance. "Complete the sentence," he rubs your wet, puffy clit with his tip.

"P-Please master toji let me cum", your respect for yourself almost vanished as your eyes begged for him.

"Louder" He pushes his tip inside you, painfully slow.

"PLEASE MASTER TOJI LET ME CUM.. PLEASE .. I BEG OF YOU"

Toji lets out a satisfied growl, thrusting deep. "That's more like it, my good slave." He pounds you mercilessly, your pleas for release filling the air. "Cum. For me."

Your body tenses, toes curl as you orgasm hard, walls spasming rapidly against his cock. Toji watches your orgasm unfurl, his dick pulsating inside you. "Mmm, nice." He thrusts faster, his climax approaching. "Fuck, yes. So tight.. I never imagined you felt this good." He grunts, his breath hitched, his release imminent. "Gonna fill you up. Bet you won't remain selfish anymore once you have your own baby."

Only moans come out of you as he thrusts into your oversensitive pussy. Toji finishes his thrusts, spilling himself inside you, pulling out just to see his seed drooling out of your clamping walls. "Shit.. Look at that, so dirty", he pushes his dick inside you again, watching your body shuddering.

You mutter a low appologise as your breathing starts becoming stable once again. "Oh so now ya guilty?" Toji laughs, his dick twitching inside you still, he's getting hard once again. He pulls his dick out and drags you onto his lap.

He caresses your cheek, "Do you think I can ever forgive you baby? with all these years of disrespect that you flung at me?" his other hand pats your ass. "I dont want to hear your apologies. I will divorce you just like that."

You feel as though everything is falling apart around you. It's the last thing you expected to hear from him. You know you love him, but you chose to ignore your feelings up until this point. "Pls master.. d-dont divorce me .. I love you", you lean towards him, kissing his cheek.

Toji's eyes flickered for a moment, as you kiss his cheek. "Wow.. Just an orgasm out of you, put you in your place? Perhaps.. There's only one way to change my mind", he licks his tongue wanting to push your buttons. You look at him expectantly.

Toji's eyes sparked with devious delight "Show me how much you love me, my slave".

Sighing, you take his erect cock and insert it inside of you. You begin to flex and extend your hips along his girth.

Toji watches as you ride him, his eyes never leaving you, his eyes twinkling. "Mmm, nothing sexier than a woman in need," He growls, grabbing your hips and pushing you into his hips. "Ride it harder!" He groans, moving along with your rhythm. You nod and increase your pace, bouncing harder, his veins popping on his forehead.

"Impressive, but more!" His hands move to your neck, pulling you closer. "Yes.. Open your mouth whore" He grips your throat gently, tightening his hold.

You open your mouth, and Toji spits in it, "Swallow it". Without any delay you swallow it.

Toji laughs, "How the tables turn, huh?"

You lean to kiss him, but he grabs your neck not allowing you to get closer to him. "I don't want to kiss your nasty mouth bitch"

"P-please master toji.. kiss me", you beg him, hands reaching to caress his hand on your neck.

"Hmm?" he whispers, "Why would I do that?" He tightens his grip, making it harder for you to breathe. You gasp, your eyes locking with his.

"I am sorry," you cry and pout, hips slamming against his pubis while riding him.

"Apologizing?" He loosens his grip, allowing you to breathe easier. "Now that's better." He watches you, how you are engulfing his cock with each movement.

"Still want my kiss?" He taunts, as he release his grip on your neck.

"Yes.. please.. Kiss me"

Toji captures your lips, his tongue invading your mouth. You moan, wrapping your arms around his neck. He groans, the taste of your submission sweet. "Mmm, such a good slave." He pulls away, "Appology accepted". His mouth leans in to latch onto one of your breasts, tongue circling your nipples and his cheeks hollowing.

Unable to control yourself you squirt all over him. He grunts at your sudden tightness. "What the fuck- so tight ah.." He removes his dick from you, putting you on your knees and hands. "Pissing like a dog? Want me to piss on you too?"

"S-sorry master, I was unable to control myself", your eyes rolled from the experience, collapsing on the bed.

Toji spanks your ass, bringing you to your knees. He lines up his dick to your entrance, holding you steady. "Ya looking like a used slut." His dick slides in your entrance, stretching you again. You whine and whimper, thighs shaking from the ecounters before.

"So sensitive..", Toji scoffs.

"Please .. I am near .. fuck me harder", your voice pleading, eyes rolled, drools driping down your chin.

Toji's thrusts speed up, taking you from behind. "Such an Insatiable cum slut " He groans, his voice hoarse. "Tell me how much you want my cum inside you."

"Fill me up pls.... I am master Toji's cumdump"

Toji roars, slamming into you. "Mmm, yes. My cum dump bitch." He releases inside you, feeling you cum and contract around his dick. He pulls out, watching his seed dripping out of you. His eyes lingered over your pussy, "Maybe you deserve a reward after all."

Your whole body convulses. Toji pulls himself out, "Do you want the reward?"

"Please.. reward me master .. I am your good slave," you falter.

Toji smiles, "Very well, my pet. You're a good slave then" He licks your thighs "Mmm, I love you. But if you dare to disappoint me again..." His teeth nibbling on your clit, making you moan loudly. "You know where you stand." He coos and blows on your wetness, licking you clean. Your body trembles, his tongue exploring your folds.

Toji moans, licking your and his cum.. He suckles your clit, his tongue dancing around. A huge cum drop falls on his tongue which he thrusts inside you again.

"Such a good slave, you'll give me a healthy pup" He hums, kissing your inner thighs. Your breath hitches, your orgasm nearing.

Unable to make out anything, you keep taking the pleasure he gives you.

Toji chuckles, his pace unrelenting. "Make me feel needed, slut" He tongue flicks your clit, you shaking. "Cum for me girl" He pinches your clit, your juice flowing freely. "Ahh, so fucking delicious..."

"Gonna cum .. Love you Toji .. a-ah", you blabber. "Yes, my whore. Go ahead" He growls, licking your juice dripping on his lips. Your thighs wrap around him, cumming again. He licks your cum from his tongue, your legs trembling.

"Good girl". He kisses your neck then pulling you closer to his dick.

"Clean your mess from it" He whispers.

Toji breathes heavily, your mouth enveloping his half-hardened dick. It gets hard again, "Mmm, yes, clean it nicely" He cups your head, his shaft coats in your saliva. "Like that, slut" His hand affectionately messes your hair, your moaning muffled. "So good... God.. I should have done this a lot earlier." He watched you swallow his dickhead, your saliva running down your chin. He laughs, his breaths hitched.

You suck on his balls while he strokes his length, "You know how to make a man happy" he whispers. He pulls you by your hair rubbing his dick on your cheeks.

He leans back, hips jerking. "Mmm, shoot!", his cum splattering across your face, your tongue sticking out, trying to catch some cum drops. He smiles, wiping your face.

"Mmm, so obedient, my little cum dump" He whispers, kissing your lips. "You did great today and if you dare to mistreat me again.."

"I will put you in your place.. Like how I did today."

DIVIDERS FROM @/cafekitsune

[feyascorner]

before my nails dig

summary. in which one of Astarion's especially vivid nightmares results in him waking up to Tav at the mercy of his own hands...and the shame that comes with it.

warnings. angst, fluff, comfort

pairing. Astarion x GN!reader

a/n. someone pls get this man therapy that's all i ask,,, also this takes place sometime during act 3 before you confront cazador!! first post too so pls forgive typos

Had breathing always been this hard?

It's not like he had to breathe anyway. The undead have more perks than one would think, and having no need for air was one that became particularly useful in unexpected ways. Yet as he stands in Cazador's dungeon again--a place he longs to rid from the darkest corners of his mind--all he can do is stumble over his own breath, crimson eyes darting around frantically in search of an exit.

And suddenly, his siblings are at the mercy of the ascension, floating helplessly in the chains of a red aura--Cazador's aura. Despite the chaos, Astarion's eyes narrow in on the one pedestal with no occupant, and he realizes it's his own designated place.

It's getting harder to breathe now.

A breath creeps up behind his shoulder, sending pure dread throughout his entire body as he hears Cazador's voice far too close than he ever wanted it to be.

"Wake up, child. This is all you've ever been meant for."

Astarion whips around and lunges at the man, his hands wrapping viciously around the throat he's fantasized about ripping apart for the past two hundred years. His nails dig into the flesh of the vampire lord's neck, leaving indents in the shape of crescent moons, just enough to cause panic but not enough to draw blood. But Cazador only cackles, his eyes staring right into Astarion's as he hollers over and over again.

"Wake up."

"Wake up!"

"--Astarion!"

The spawn's eyes snap open, recognition finally flooding his expression as he finds himself staring down at you. The very face he sees in the softest of dreams, the lips he longs to kiss at every waking moment, and the eyes that gaze at him with the love and adoration he's been missing for most of his wretched eternal life. Though he'd never admit it, you saved him. From the moment he'd threatened your life at the nautiloid crash to the moment he held you close to his chest in the confines of his tent, he would be by your side until you tired of him and threw him away.

All he wanted--all he could wish for--was only a fraction of it in return. And you'd given him that, and so much more.

But now, you're scared. Terrified, even. Of him.

With horror, he realizes his fingers are digging into your throat. Your precious, tender throat that you offer him not for something in return, but simply because you care for him.

All at once as he tears his hands away, he wants to cut them off and bury himself in his own grave again. He doesn't meet your eyes, afraid of what disgust might be held in them, but he knows you're too kind for that. Too kind to see the kind of monster he is.

You're gasping for your breath, and his stomach knots in a way that would have sent him hurling if it weren't for the fact that he's too occupied drinking in what he's done. To you.

"I'm okay, I'm okay, Astarion," you choke out, perching on both your elbows as you struggle to recover. Even now, all you seem to care about is him. He almost hates you for it--hates you for not stabbing a stake through his heart the moment his hands met your neck. "Astarion-"

"Your throat," he croaks, despising the slight crack of his voice as he reaches for your cheek, but stops before he even gets close. He doesn't trust himself to open his mouth again.

"It's okay, really, I can just get Shadowheart to heal me," you shake your head, and he finds himself in disbelief as you crawl toward him, tossing the sheets to the side. He shifts the slightest away and you understand, immediately sitting back down. You look like you want to say something, but you close your mouth and watch him patiently, as if waiting for him to make the first move.

After a suffocating silence, he turns his back to you. "I'll be sleeping elsewhere tonight."

He intends of never sharing a room with you again, in fear of what he could possibly do to you as a result of his selfish desires to keep you close, and you seem to pick up on the tone of his words. You always do. "Astarion, please."

"I do apologize, sincerely. I'll form a better apology tomorrow, but for now, I'll fetch Shadowheart or that damned wizard and-"

He fights the urge to shiver when he feels your hand on his. How you manage to have such an impact on him with a simple touch he does not know, and does not care because all he wants is more. To pull you close, to beg you to keep him, to use him, to punch him, strangle him for all he cared, in hopes you'll even consider ever speaking to him again. Instead, he turns to look at you.

Gods, you're beautiful.

Even with those terrible bruises he'd go to hell and earth to take back, your beauty in unmatched with anything he's ever seen. Even with the bed hair and the anxiousness pursing your lips, he can't bring himself to look away again.

"Please stay. I'm not mad, nor afraid."

The words sound like honey on your tongue.

"Please," You say again, slowly this time. "Stay."

His chest feels tight, threatening to tear itself apart as his voice comes out in a crooked whisper. "I could have killed you."

"You didn't."

"If you died too, I don't know--what would I even do with myself? What would I-" He hates it when he sounds like this. Vulnerable, or as Cazador liked to call it: pathetic. But he can't help the words tumbling out his blasted mouth with the way you're gazing at him with nothing but worry. Somehow, with you, it feels strange.

Refreshing, almost.

Your hand squeezes around his as if to remind him you're still here. He meets your eyes again and it's all it takes to break what little will he has left, as he lets you pull him close in a crushing hug--one that's all too welcomed.

And as the two of you lie awake in each other's embrace, he thanks all the gods he doesn't worship for putting you on his path.

[katerinaaqu]

Now guess who got inspired by yet another Pocahontas scene for an odypen moment! Me! Hahahaha ✨️ 😆

Seriously if I were to picture a final scene for a pre-Iliad scene with Odysseus and Penelope this would be it!

🥺😭🥺😭🥺😭🥺😭🥺😭

The harbor of Ithaca it was packed with people who had arrived even from the farthest village to see their king off for war. Almost the entire fleet of the island was waiting ready for the long uncertain trip. The black ships with the large sails seemed more eager to start their journey than the many men who were now saying the last goodbyes to their families and friends before boarding to the ships. Odysseus the king of Ithaca waited patiently for the preparations to finish. His royal vibrant clothes of red and crimson uniquely standing out of the crowd. Penelope the queen was standing by his side, her eyes never leaving him as if she wanted to burn every single twitch of his lips into her memory. She could tell he was trying very hard not to cry; for his people and for herself but he seemed to be failing. Her own eyes were tearful. Within her arms she was holding their son Telemachus; the most precious thing both of them had. The infant seemed calm and yet one could feel it's agitation. It was as if he could feel his father's upcoming absence. Odysseus seemed equally indecisive to board his own ship.

Polites, one of Odysseus's most trusting friends walked towards this silent scene of woe, drawing his king's attention.

"The ships are almost ready, sire. We must get on board or we'll lose the tide"

"No...wait..." Odysseus whispered. "Just a few more moments..."

His voice was shaking. Penelope knew she had to do something to break this ice. Slowly she approached. On her right was the elder queen mother Anticlea, her mother in law and on her left Eyryclea, the old slave nursemaid. That woman who helped her husband be brought up now she would take care of Telemachus when the time was right. Behind them there was Penelope's entourage of servants and slave girls. Slowly and steadily Penelope approached her husband. She lifted the baby in her arms and slowly cooed at him.

"Come on...come to say goodbye to your father...he leaves for war"

Hands shaking with emotion Odysseus took the small wrapped up creature and then everyone watched the king break for a second. He raised that small head to his own neck and embraced it tightly holding it securely in his strong hand

"My sweet Telemachus..." whispered Odysseus sobbing silently

He raised his son to his lips and kissed that soft head.

"Take care of your mother... I leave this to you both a wish and a curse... take care of her..."

The baby made a small sound and then sobbed slowly as Odysseus gave him back to Penelope. Laërtes approached his son embracing him tightly

"Come back victorious, my son...come back to us..."

Odyssey released him from his strong arms only to embrace his mother who was holding back her tears more bravely than any army.

"Mother..." whispered Odysseus, "I shall return. I promise..."

It was an empty promise and he knew it. Anticlea knew it too. Her son could easily tell a white lie if he had to. They knew there was no guarantee of his return and yet she would choose to grasp that promise like an amulet or like a spell. She knew at least her son would try. That would be enough. Euryclea was sobbing softly as Odysseus embraced his nursemaid.

"My sweet nurse I shall leave you my precious Telemachus and my wife. I shall entrust you my most priceless treasures...take care of them till I return...."

For last he left Penelope; his wife and love whom he felt he met so little! Even if she was there when he carved their bed under the olive tree that was still thriving over them; even if they both created the beautiful son she was holding. Somehow he knew he would lose a long time away. Troy was far. He needed a few months of trip and no one knew how long it would take to take the infamous city. Tenderly he touched her cheek. Suddenly all words were drowned in his throat. Penelope leaned to his touch...she kissed that hand she wetted with her tears.

"We need you here..." she whispered

"I know..."

"But you have to go..."

"I know..." Odysseus whispered again, "but how can I leave you...?"

"You never will..." Penelope murmured back, "no matter where you go I will always be with you...forever. I will wait for your return..."

Odysseus leaned back and she met him halfway. They had no idea how long they kissed but neither wanted to let the other go. Neither wished to end that moment.

"Odysseus..." Polites interrupted again

Slowly and unwillingly Odysseus let her go, her hand slowly sliding away from his till fully separated. Penelope clutched the baby to her chest watching him climb upon his ship.

"Good luck my king" said the sailor who assisted him, "may the gods join you..."

Penelope watched as her husband boarded the ship and his strong voice echoed in the harbor as he gave the order for the ship to depart. On the cue the fleet replied as the magnificent vessels began their slow journey to the open sea. The king of Ithaca was leaving...

Penelope watched as the ships became one mass just like all lives become the same at the war. She could still tell her husband's red tunic but it was becoming all the more difficult. She barely felt the hand of the old nurse to her shoulder. She could hardly feel her tears drying and falling.

"My beloved queen..."

Penelope didn't hear. She only clutched the baby to her chest, did a half turn and ran. She ran like she never had run before. Her feet seemed to have gained wings and her lungs knew no fatigue as she reached the highest hill at the palaces foot. She saw the ships leaving but she could tell the first belonged to the man she loved the most in this world. The small swallow flew by her face as the wind rose, giving breath to the sails that were taking her husband away from her.

Odysseus was leaving...and no one knew when he would come back. And yet she could see her husband looking that way. She would come back. He had to...

Odysseus looked up to see the presence at the top. The crimson veils that were flowing to the atrong wind sent by the gods had to be her. He desperately ran to the back as if he expected to walk on air yo get closer. He ignored the calls of the sailors on the ship and he looked towards her. He knew she had to be looking at him right now... he was leaving but the look would be a promise. One way or another he would come back to her. To this life or the next...

Penelope knew she would wait for him to meet him again. To this life or the next...

The wind carried the silent promise.

To this life or the next...

Sorry guys I scribble again to the middle of the night but damn!

[just2bubbly]

Worrisome Mornings

Masterlist

Well, it seems I did manage to convince myself to write warnette fic: cuz why not? This one isn't necessarily about the two but it indulged me and wish it works for the same for you. Inspiration for this comes out of this post.

Book: Shatter Me

Words: 1k

Pairing: None

With Warner unable to be contacted in the morning of chapter 56, Delalileu worries himself with reasons. None that matches when he learns the actual cause.

Delalieu's POV:

Delalieu almost did have an aneurysm. 

He was promptly waiting for the Commander to show up at his usual time to discuss the doings of the day. With Commander Warner harbouring enemies of the state in his personal quarters, the stability and agenda that had been maintained since his appointment had been disrupted. Delalieu himself had overseen a part of this mission that could cost him his life at the least.

He wasn't sure why he had always been so willing to sacrifice his life and work for members of Anderson family. Many a time he had been on the wrong side of power, a young man lost in the sense of manifestation. Perhaps he still was on the wrong side of power while he had seen much, he had lost more. 

This way of devotion towards Commander Warner, his grandchild was his way of asking forgiveness to his daughter, Leila. Forgiveness, he would never deserve. He had seen the crimes committed by his own against his own and he had silently let them happen, overseen them at times without questioning the morality and insanity of it. 

Delalieu was a man lacking in courage when it came down to crossing the lines of duty and relation, in situations when it was a need to put his blood first he had failed to do so. 

It had taken multiple years to gain Warner's trust. An odd sort of bond that goes nowhere- there's respect between the two, born completely out of sincerity and years of seeing each other. What relation he had with Commander Warner could be carried with any other Lieutenant had Paris decided to appoint another. 

"Family should be close," Paris had said, smiling wickedly to him the day he had been appointed. 

Here at Sector 45, he worked both for the Commander and the Supreme, not letting his interactions with either mix. Delalieu was that tie between the two that secured that they were far more isolated than nearer. 

Pulling himself away from his thought he glanced at the huge wall clock.

7:14.

The Commander was late by 14 minutes. If experience and memory served him right, Commander Warner was never late- not on a sick day, not when he was shot in his arms, not when Miss Ferrars was dying. Aaron Warner was a punctual man that valued his time more than people. Seeing how he had been running late for over 16 minutes now seemed to surprise him beyond his wits.

He diligently decided to wait before jumping to conclusions about the Commander's whereabouts. Patiently waiting for further 10 minutes before he decided to give in to his unease.

Delalieu called for his office, assuming that the Commander had decided to spend his morning drawing plans for the aftermath of this rebellion. No one answered the phone, as his request was met with an automated attendant. He pinches his head in worry trying to find a single reason why Warner couldn't be contacted.  

Trying to calm his nervous tick, he searched for the boy on the base surveillance. Nothing. He needed to check whether Warner was out to his house in the sector like he preferred disappearing to. Alone. To keep an eye on correspondence and locals. When his search came back with no signs, he rang the operators instead.

"Where was the Chief Commander last seen ?" He asked masking his worries with an emotionless tone. 

"Last night entering his quarters." 

"Time?" 

"2050." 

"Any activity outside his quarter?" 

"None noticed, sir."

 "Any tanks put off from surveillance? Lost signal with any soldiers?" He asked not wanting to give away any matters for the soldiers to divulge in.

"None, sir. "

He hung up on the phone and sprang out of the door within seconds.

The time read 7:48 am.

Last sighted in his quarters which did not have any cameras as per his request and command. Delalieu knew it was stupid and naive to give in to the demands of a 19-year-old boy and foregoing protocol. With no surveillance inside the ward, Delalieu had no way of knowing what harm Warmer might have undergone. 

Warner was housing revolutionaries on the base, a floor away from his quarters. Castle and his band of refugees were too deep in grief to be hosted as allies. One never knew when feelings of revenge came to the surface. Them living a floor below him gave them a perfect opportunity to do away with his cruelty for once. Delalieu berated himself for not trying to talk the boy out of his decision.

Stupid mistakes taken out of desire. Aaron was doing so much to save the girl's life only for her and her refugee of friends to take advantage of his kindness. Delalieu reminded himself that Aaron was more than capable to take care of himself but when it came down to the girl, Juliette Ferrars he failed to meet his own assessment. Love bedazzled him, like always the girl made him forget everything else. Made him do things he won't do for anyone. Ella always blinded him. 

He had walked on gun ready, his card swiped in to let him enter. His mind was numb with scenarios he might come across and his body operating purely on adrenaline and years of practice. 

He stepped inside the room. Only to see a sight be hadn't quite expected- clothes were strewn around everywhere. It took him about ten seconds to register the scene and now his mind was buzzing with the need to be out of the room, eyes wide in horror and cheeks flushed with humiliation. He quickly stepped back into the elevator, pressing the button to move down to his floor. As the elevator doors closed on him he had unintentionally glimpsed enough to confirm his suspicions. The two sprawled on the bed. Huddled over each other. 

Back in the safety of his own office, he sighed. Not so much out of relief. There was so much past to uncover for the two.

__

A/N: Hope it wasn't much disappointing. I just wanted to write someting new and my old wips have haunted me for months and I wrote this down in a day instead. Taking asks for warnette now if you all can be so kind as to send them.

No taglish cuz don't know mutuals that are into this book. Do mention if you want to be tagged in future works.

[atlasalexanderwrites]

Malcolm x Queen!Reader Pt. 4

IMAGINE...Being the Oldest child to Robert Queen, the Older sister to Oliver and Thea, having an on going secret affair with Malcolm Merlyn that is only getting more complicated.

(This installment of the series is based roughly two years before Oliver returns)

Word Count: 2, 906

Warning: Small bit of NSFW Possible OCC!Malcolm Merlyn (I’m still a little rusty but I’m getting there!)

Author’s Note: HONESTLY, I enjoyed writing this so much! And I am so grateful to everyone who has continued to message me/anon me regarding this getting an update. It is my hope that will be just as good - if not better - than the three parts that came out in 2017 and my deepest apologies to everyone who has been waiting so patiently for it!

Author’s Note 2: I HOPE THE READER DOESN’T FEEL LIKE A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT CHARACTER FROM THE FIRST THREE PARTS

Pt. 1 2 3 5 6 7

Future Parts: I HAVE AT LEAST THREE OTHER IDEAS THAT WILL BE TYPED UP FOR FUTURE INSTALLMENTS - and I am rewatching season 1 of Arrow so far! So I will definitely NOT be abandoning this series!

(GIF ISN’T MINE! FOUND IT ON GOOGLE, WILL REMOVE IF ASKED TO)

When you made that decision to get close to Malcolm, to let his dangerously handsome and tempting personality draw you in all so you could find out what he knew about your father’s and brother’s tragic deaths, you never could have imagined how screwed you were from the very beginning. And you never could have foreseen the affair going on for years after it had started.

You wanted to get justice for the loss you and your family had felt, but you found comfort in Malcolm Merlyn and over time you selfishly let yourself fall further and further in love with the CEO of Merlyn Global.

Mom was selfish when she fell for Walter.

Thea does selfish things to try and win mom’s attention.

So why couldn’t you choose something, someone, in the world to be selfish about?

*

“…with this we have been reassured that Queen Consolidated will see a fifteen percent increase in productivity and profits in the first six months followed by a total of eighty five percent increase by a year and a half, tops.” With a click of the little, white remote in your hands, you turned away from the projector screen where a detailed and colorful graph was being displayed to smile (politely, forcefully so) at the table of old men in suits and your step-mother.

“And…” the nasally voice of John Piston came from the left side of the table, near the door, and you barely bit back your sigh and aggressive eye roll. Italian, dark haired, expensive suit like everyone else in the room, with a habit of cheating on his young, super model wife with her friends. “…how exactly, Miss Queen, do you plan on getting the support from Merlyn Global that you’ve been promising will be partnering with us on this project?”

“John,” Moira sighed and gave him a smile of irritation, turning her gaze from you to him “Has my daughter ever failed to hold up her end of promises? Has she ever failed to persuade Malcolm Merlyn or any other company to partner with us when she’s put her mind to things? If she says that Merlyn Global will take part in this venture than we should trust Y/n.”

You smiled around the room and turned back to look at the projector screen, to finish your part of the meeting, while saying, over your shoulder, “I’ll get it in writing during lunch this afternoon, if that is what you wish, Mr. Piston.” Knowing that there was no way he would talk down to you further or respond with any snarky comments while the two of you weren’t alone.

That didn’t prevent Moira from saying something once the meeting was over and the room was empty. Appearing at your side, she murmured, “Another lunch with Malcolm? This has become a habit over the last year or so.” She was fishing for information, attempting to irritate you just enough so you would slip up.

It worked every time when you were a kid, and so your stepmother had continued to use it as you became an adult. Though, it works less often now.

“Mom,” you smiled, turning to look at her as you closed your laptop. Reaching out, you squeezed her hand and reassured her that everything was alright. “Mr. Merlyn and I are business partners, just as you and dad always were. Our lunch dates are strictly professional. It is why we make sure to have them in public with others nearby. I know the lines of propriety, mom, I promise.”

You could tell she didn’t fully believe you, but she didn’t push.

“I have to go. I’ll see you at dinner.” You offered her a gentle smile and kissed her cheek before gathering your things and leaving the conference room, looking toward your assistant, Kayla, as she fell into place beside you, “My car?”

Kayla made a look close to a grimace and apologized, saying “Mr. Merlyn’s limo is waiting outside. He called and changed plans about fifteen minutes ago.” She didn’t like Malcolm. She was always saying there was something about him that didn’t sit well with her. But Kayla especially didn’t like how difficult he made her, and your, life when he suddenly changed plans at the last minute.

You couldn’t disagree completely.

It was beyond frustrating when he changed plans without notice, as if he could make decisions for you, no matter how often you complained to him about it.

“And is Mr. Merlyn waiting in this limo?” You asked through gritted teeth as you stepped into your office, moving to place your laptop and the few file folders you had taken with you to the meeting on your desk.

“He didn’t say,”

Of course, he didn’t. That would have made my life too easy.

Keeping your comment to yourself, you locked away any important and private documents into your desk drawer and then grabbed your clutch purse and the vanilla folder with Malcolm’s copy of the meeting’s notes.

He might make my life hell, but I don’t feel up to playing childish games today.

Besides, you could hardly go to a supposed lunch meeting without discussing some sort of business. Or, giving the impression that you had discussed such.

Grabbing your coat off the hook next to the door, you shrugged it on and called over your shoulder to Kayla, “Please call Mr. Merlyn and inform him I am on my way.” You made sure to shrug off her offer to attend the luncheon before she had a chance to offer. Some part of you knew that she had caught on to the fact that something beyond business was happening between you and Malcolm, but whatever she knew, Kayla was loyal and would never tell anyone unless you were doing something illegal. And even then, there was a chance she would keep it to herself depending on what the illegal act was.

“Miss Queen,” Malcolm’s driver greeted as you neared the limo, the man offered you a pleasant smile and opened the door.

“Jude,” you greeted with a genuine smile as you stepped past him and slid into the street limo, not wasting any time.

Your gaze settled on the man beside you as the door shut with a soft thud. For a moment, you said nothing. You held his gaze and breathed in the familiar smell of him that hung lightly in the air around the both of you.

The only thing you could think to say after a few moments of silence was, “Louis is more than capable of driving me to the restaurant, Mr. Merlyn.” You mentally gave yourself a pat on the back for not leaning into him as you had done so often before.

“Hello to you as well, Miss Queen.” Malcolm laughed, reaching across the seat to place a hand to your knee, his fingers squeezing through your skirt and pantyhose.

You should have shoved his hand away, but it was the last thing on your mind.

Jude had retaken his seat behind the wheel and cautiously pulled away from the curb. Once the limo was apart of the Friday afternoon traffic, the divider cutting off Jude’s view into the backseat was put into place.

Tinted and one way – you and Malcolm could see through it, but not the other way around.

A laugh slipped past your lips at the irony of it; an irony you chose to share with Malcolm as he threw you an amused, curious raised brow.

“I told Moira we were going to be in public, surrounded by people, as this was strictly professional.” You watched Malcolm, finally giving in and reaching out to trace the pattern on his blue and black tie. “She’s concerned that this has become a habit of mine. A habit that is…less than appropriate.”

Chuckling, Malcolm leaned over and placed his lips to yours, “Maybe she’s jealous.”

“Malcolm,” you huffed, pressing your hands to his chest. Your fingers grabbed at the fabric of his shirt instead of pushing him away as you probably should have. “Jealous? Of what?” Surely, if your stepmother had anything for Malcolm that she had had plenty of time to make a move in the three years that your father had been dead. And she and Walter wouldn’t be set to marry in a month. “I think she’s just worried that I’ll do something stupid that could hurt Queen Consolidated.” What else could there be?

There was something in his eyes as Malcolm playfully agreed with your assumption. He obviously had a different opinion, but you were glad he chose to keep it to himself. Still, it was a look that made you uneasy.

Was there something between your stepmother and Malcolm? Or…had there been something? In the past?

Malcolm leaned forward once more, this time pressing his lips to your jaw and trailing his mouth down to your shoulder – peppering kisses across your skin as he pulled your coat and blouse to the side.

“And do you agree with her?” he asked, his voice a little raspy but still airy and near condescending as it always was.

You said his name almost in a whimper, your grip on his shirt tightening as you shifted in the seat, turning so you were facing him and not just half turned in his direction.

“Do you agree that this is inappropriate? That perhaps we should stop doing things as we have been?” Malcolm prompted as he pulled back, his hands grabbing the lapels of your coat.

“Are you breaking up with me, Mr. Merlyn?” you teased softly, knowing that’s exactly what he was doing.

Building the suspense. Postponing the inevitable.

Choosing to play along, you let go of his shirt and shrugged, turning to look outside the best you could with him still having a hold of your coat. “Perhaps, Malcolm, my stepmother is right. I mean, maybe it would be best for us to end things and for me to find someone closer to my age.” Smirking, you looked at him with a fake look of curiosity and innocence, and asked “Is Tommy seeing anyone? Perhaps I chose the wrong Merlyn male to get close to.”

Malcolm’s jaw ticked and all signs of amusement were gone.

As you knew would happen, every bit of him was seething with possessiveness.

Whatever had been going on with you and Malcolm, the CEO of Merlyn Global didn’t like to share his toys when he still had use for them.

His knuckles had to be hurting with how tightly he was still holding onto your coat, but Malcolm didn’t seem to care if he noticed as he pulled you into his lap and smashed his mouth to yours. It was nowhere near the playful, lazy kiss from minutes earlier.

It was entirely aggressive, and Malcolm didn’t hold anything back as he dominated the kiss with expert tongue, lips, and teeth.

His hands didn’t loosen even a fraction until you were moaning his name and were fighting every part of you not to rock your hips in his lap – your navy-blue skirt had ridden up to the top of your thighs allowing for the perfect (and very dangerous) friction between your clothed sex and his left thigh where he had placed set you at the beginning of the kiss.

“Is…is that a no about me dating Tommy th-Malcolm.” You had barely gotten the question out, knowing you were only poking the bear further, when one of his hands was between your bodies and slipping past the waistband of your panties. “Wha-we can’t!” you hissed, throwing a look over your shoulder toward the front of the limo. Even knowing Jude couldn’t see you, that didn’t stop the panic that filled the pit of your stomach.

“Oh, we definitely can.” Malcolm hissed, his hand cupping your soaked heat, “We can do whatever we want.” His free hand grabbed the back of your neck, keeping your eyes locked on the soft blue of his.

I can do whatever I want.

That’s what he was really saying.

He truly felt he was above everyone else.

“Is this why you changed our plans? You wanted an afternoon booty call?” you asked, ignoring your desires for a moment to try and stop things from going any further. This wasn’t the first time you and Malcolm had ended up in this position, and from experience you knew that you would have to stop at your apartment before returning to the office. Unless, that is, you wanted to walk around smelling like Malcolm and disheveled. “Mr. Merlyn, you could have just had Louis bring me to your place if that’s what you wanted.”

Malcolm’s lips twitched in amusement at the same time his thumb flickered over your clit, “Why can’t you ever just trust me? Play along, Y/n.”

Trust him?

Isn’t that what you had been doing for a year and a half?

Laughing, breathlessly, you brought your hands up from where they had fallen to his sides and brushed your fingers through Malcolm’s hair. “Trusting you, Mr. Merlyn, is probably the worst thing I have ever done, and yet I continue to do that same, stupid thing over and over and over.” Your fingers pulled at the hair on the back of his head making him smirk as Malcolm allowed you to gently yank his head back.

“Then why do you?” Malcolm questioned, as you peppered his neck with rough kisses that – had you been new to this – would have left love bites behind.

The seconds ticked by between his question and your answer. Seconds that would have given you the out you knew you should have taken a thousand times over.

If you were smart, you would have pulled away and got out of that stupid limo as soon as you could. And if you were smart, you wouldn’t crave his touch and his attention the way you did. Gods, if you were smart, you would have gone to the police and told them of your theory – or, at the least, to Detective Lance and prayed like hell that he didn’t hate you for Oliver’s (and Sara’s) poor decision of allowing Sara onto that damned yacht, and that he would give you just a moment even if just to humor you.

Instead of doing any of that, you found yourself rocking against his hand and kissing him roughly as you growled out, “Because I can. Because I want to.”

*

The two of you barely made it through the front door of Malcolm’s mansion and into the living room before your clothes were tossed aside.

You should have scolded him for having planned to bring you back to his place all along, but the moment you were laid out on the couch and his strong, warm body covered yours, all thoughts of what you should have been doing instead were long gone.

There was no question on whether the two of you were compatible. From the first night you had shared together just a week after that dinner, the connection had been instant and effortless. And every time after had seen both of you well sated and exhausted (it’s how you ended up spending many nights at his place).

Just as you were coming down from what had to be a third orgasm, Malcolm leaned over to place a gentle kiss to your lips. He whispered something in a language you didn’t know, and although you were curious, the gentle way he brushed a few strands of hair out of your eyes was enough to tell you that it didn’t matter what he had said.

Malcolm Merlyn wasn’t sweet or gentle. Not sincerely. In all the months the two of you had been sneaking around, he had never looked at you like that.

“Getting soft on me, Mr. Merlyn?” you tried to tease, but it lacked your usual playfulness. Instead, it came off so fond while so obviously acknowledging his sweet gesture.

Malcolm’s light eyes flickered over your face before he shifted, sitting back so you were seated across his lap. “Would that be so wrong?” he pondered out loud as he gave a lazily roll of his hips.

Your breath stopped, your eyelids closing as you dropped your head onto his shoulder. “No. No I…I don’t think that would be so wrong.” And you let him pull a dozen more sounds from your throat as he manipulated your body so deliciously perfect.

Do not fall in love with him.

Was that not the biggest rule I had when all of this started?

The voice in the back of your head was silenced by the comfort you felt there in Malcolm’s arms. That voice of reason that was there to protect you from harm and, on occasion, from broken hearts was shushed by your denial.

I have everything under control.

I am not falling in love with Malcolm Merlyn…

…but then what was the smile you gave to him as he cooked you a late lunch hours later? If not love than why did you stay the night in his bed, not fucking like affair partners do, but whispering back and forth about some book the both of you were familiar with and your concerns about Thea’s increasingly bad behavior?

If you weren’t falling in love with him, than why did you only feel truly happy and content when he was at your side?

*

*

*

AS MENTIOEND ABOVE, I know that I changed the timing some for Moira and Walter’s marriage (at least, from what I understand from researching the wiki and how quickly I can comfortably imagine the two of them getting together). Roughly, part 4 takes place in 2010 about a year before - from what I have been able to find - Moira and Walter married in the show. It’s a small detail, imo, unless I’m unaware of something SOOOO I decided to go with it!

If anyone would like to be added to a tag list and notified when the next pt is posted, please let me know!

[henrike-does-writing-sometimes]

🌈🎮❤️😊 👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 for the darling divine boys if you don’t mind!

I do not mind at all I love these darlings <3<3<3

🌈 RAINBOW — what is your oc's sexual orientation/gender identity ? what pronouns do they use ?

Rei - He/Him, Aroace

Andie - They/Them, Queer

Timothy - He/Him, Demisexual

Nico - He/Him, Questioning

Mike - He/Him, Bisexual

I’m unsure of their gender identities, but I do know they’re all comfortable being referred to as a boy

🎮 VIDEO GAME CONTROLLER — what are three of your oc's favorite hobbies ?

Rei - Playing videogames, reading comic books, and collecting figurines

Andie - Cheerleading/Gymnastics, singing, and photography

Timothy - Reading, ballet, and witchcraft

Nico - Baking, gardening/herbology, and skateboarding

Mike - Drawing, media analysis, and archery

❤️ RED HEART — what are three of your oc's positive traits ?

Rei - Quick thinker, sentimental, and clever

Andie - Supportive, enthusiastic, and a great listener

Timothy - Loving, attentive, and witty

Nico - Helpful, comforting, and generous

Mike - Patient, reliable, and compassionate

😊 SMILING FACE WITH SMILING EYES — what are your oc's career/general life desires ? what do they want to get the most out of life ?

Rei is a bit too young to have any sort of life goal set. Truth be told, he has issues with figuring these things out, like at all. Which is anxiety-inducing, but he’s also only 15 so he’ll have time to figure it out. Although, I do think he has thoughts about getting into filmmaking, since he does write from time to time.

Andie’s current major goal in life is to compete in the quad-world Championships. Which is like the Olympics (which they also wish to compete in) but bigger, since it involves all four worlds of Earth, Tsym, Effedonia, and Malcedom. Other than that, not much besides having fun. 

Timothy is kinda in the same boat as Rei, minus the anxiety. He’s just kinda going with the flow, minding his own business (but also not at all lol). Though I could totally see him becoming a professor in mythology, anthropology, or even psychology or something similar. 

Nico I feel would be content if he just has a place for himself. That’s it. So long as he can just be in peace, he’ll be fine. Obviously he’d love to have someplace to grow his plants, but more than that he’s not asking for. Though I love the idea of him running his own bakery where he grows the ingredients himself. 

Mike’s goal is to become a full-time artist. Whether that means being a freelance illustrator, hired concept artist, or even animator, doesn’t really matter. So long as he can work with something artistic and be able to live comfortably from it, he’ll be happy. 

👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 FAMILY WITH MOTHER, FATHER, SON AND DAUGHTER — how many people are in your oc's immediate family ? how many people are in your oc's extended family ? do they have aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, etc ? who in their family are they closest with ? are they close with their birth family, or do they have a found family ?

Biological family is actually something I haven’t thought about when it comes to this wip. With the slight exception of Nico whose family is not, umm, that good. Basically, bio family so far hasn’t really been important to the story (aside from Nico) so I haven’t given time to figure that whole thing out.

Really, what’s most important family-wise is the found family of the boys !

I don’t think I’ve talked about it in depth so I’ll do it here. Something that is very important to me when I write is the relationship between the male characters. Obviously f/f and m/f relationships are important too, but specifically m/m friendships are important.

Growing up I really liked what ‘sisterhood’ represented; unbreakable bonds of friendship, trust, love, emotional vulnerability, loyalty, all that good stuff. But as a closeted enby I couldn’t comfortably identify with it, and I felt that the way ‘brotherhood’ was presented to me was missing that connection. Which, honestly isn’t too surprising given how media (and general society too) hates it when boys are emotionally vulnerable and/or affectionate with each other. So basically, I want to create a type of ‘brotherhood’ that encompasses the same idéas as ‘sisterhood’ but is more easy for guys like me to identify. 

This is actually the reason why the majority of my main characters are boys, or else transmasc lmao

[arcxnumvitae]

“I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“No, you didn’t, but she was hurt nonetheless and now you must find a way to reconcile that.” His teacher’s voice was as calm and soothing as always from their place at the table. The first thing he had done after Minglian had stormed off was, of course, to visit his teacher’s estate. If they did not have the answers to his current dilemma then no one on earth would.

His lips pursed into something rather reminiscent of a pout, something the dragon would be sure to deny if someone had pointed it out to him. “I only want to make sure she’s safe. People will approach her with all sorts of malice in their hearts. They will want to use her. Throw her away afterwards. Trample on her feelings. Perhaps that boy is genuinely well-intentioned, and perhaps he isn’t. If someone truly wants to befriend Minglian, then wouldn’t putting them through some hassle at first be a good way to weed out those who would do her wrong?”

Jianhuren calmly regarded him. “Xiao-xiu, do you think that Minglian is a smart young woman?”

“What? Of course she is. Xiao-lian smarter than I was when I was her age, that’s for certain. She is bright, always courteous and always thoughtful, and as clever as she is kind.” As he spoke the dragon practically puffed up as he always did when given the excuse to brag about his student. So much so that the endearment had left him unnoticed, not that his teacher

“If so, then why do you not believe she is capable of making wise decisions when it comes to her friends?”

“I...” The simple question stopped him short. “Well, I mean...”

His teacher’s red gaze remained patient. 

“I trust in her, but I do not want her to be hurt.” The dragon’s own gaze fell and fingers brushed against the fabric of his eye patch. “I--I wouldn’t be able to bear it if she felt even a fraction of what I did. What if there was something I could have done to protect her from it, but I didn’t? She is too kind, too good. I can’t let her end up like how I did back then.”

“The unfortunate part of life and part of having young ones you care for,” Jianhuren sighed, “is that you can protect them from only so much. Xiao-lian will feel pain, that is inevitable, just as inevitable as the fact that she will feel joy. That is what life is. But if you try to hide her away from that, dear student of mine, if you try to bare and snap your fangs at all who would draw near, your student would fare a far worse fate than experiencing the ups and downs of life-- she would not have lived at all. Is that something you wish to subject her to?”

Huaxiu hung his head. “No...not at all.”

A smile quirked at their lips. “No, I know you wouldn’t. You are a good teacher, and you care greatly for her. All that she wants is for you to like her friends as much as she does-- your approval means much to her.”

“But she is upset with me, how do I--?”

“Apologize. And do not continue to do what made her so upset in the first place. It is as simple as that.”

Huaxiu let the words sink in, taking a deep breath before he let out a quiet chuckle. “As wise as ever, Shifu. Thank you once more for your advice.”

“Oh, think nothing of it.” They waved a hand as if shooing off the words of praise. “Wisdom comes with age, I suppose.” They leaned in, a sudden, teasing glint in their eyes. “Something perhaps you will come to learn soon, Ancient One.”

“Ugh!” His posture slumped with the single remark. “Am I old now?!”

[i-hope-youre-hopeful]

I didn’t finish any of my assignments on time this week (March 30 2024)

I’ve mentally checked out a little as of late. I think my stomach situation has made me kind of resent everything that causes me stress. I don’t want to do it anymore. I don’t want to write papers or go to lectures and I’m just not willing to kill myself over things so much lately. I hope that’s okay. I’m so close, if I can just hold on a little longer.

There’s a new girl in our friend group. Lily. I have nothing against a new friend, I’m a girl’s girl. You know me. But I’m scared that this will shift the dynamic negatively and this will be the beginning of the end. But this isn’t like the others. This is an offshoot of my friend group. An offshoot doesn’t kill off the whole plant if it dies. And the whole plant is strong. It’s much stronger than past friend groups have been. And I’m closer to its center, and I trust me. I’m down in its roots. I’ll try to water it. But things will change, they always do. I hope it’s a positive change. And nothing is forever despite our best efforts, so we must not hold too tightly to things. I hope this is okay though. I do love my friends. I’m desperately excited for John. I’m entirely happy for him. My negative feelings have nothing to do with him and everything to do with a new person showing up without my knowledge. It’s exactly like 2019. It’s the same time of year and everything. It was even over a bonfire. Everything circles back around. But nothing new is the same as the old. So this might be good.

Change is coming. Do you feel it?

The world is turning. Are you dizzy?

The lights have gone off in one room and have not just yet turned on in the next one. I stand in the hallway. Here I stand until the light comes on.

I’m okay. Am I crazy?

I’m okay. Is it over?

It’s getting nearly time to go someplace new. I can feel it. I know, because it doesn’t feel impossible anymore. It feels right. It feels time.

I wish it would all be over and never end. I wish I could let go and hold on forever. Change is coming soon. I hope it’s a very good change.

I’ve been able to grieve the past a bit more lately. It sucks. But I think it’s a good thing. I miss you terribly. More and more each day do I miss you.

You know me. You see me. Thank you, Lahai Roi. Im sorry Im far away. Soon we celebrate your resurrection. How blessed to celebrate your resurrection! Thank you.

Lily educated me about you tonight. Or, she wanted to. She tried to. I hope that wasn’t a joke or a reflex and I hope she loves you like I love you. Oh I would love if she loved you like I love you! Oh please let her love you. If she doesn’t now, bring her in and let her love you. Please let her be good for John. Please let him be healed by her and not hurt. Bring him healing like you’ve brought healing to me. Thank you for bringing me healing.

My love is like a bandage to my cuts and bruises, a salve for my soul. My love is like a warm blanket and a cup of tea. My love is like you. Please let him be more and more like you with each passing day.

Please forgive me for my distance, and hold my hand when I wander.

Prone to wander Lord, I feel it.

Draw me close to you, be patient with me.

Here’s my heart Lord, take and seal it.

I love you, O Living One Who Sees Me.

Lahai Roi. You are risen indeed.

[dcviated]

@babelmedicus sent: Curiosity for her craft? That's certainly a new one. At least, for Kal'tsit it is. Who even dabbles in the complexities of medicine, and the associations of loss along the way? She paused abruptly, a half-glance cast at Diluc. Seeing him sputter and lose composure? Hmm. Endearing? Amusing? It's difficult to pinpoint an exact sentiment. "Master Diluc... I trust in your capacity. But this is beyond your scope of practice, and I would never place you or my patients in a precarious situation." She replies, as she turns to retrieve the stethoscope from his grasp. But seeing that former spark of curiosity... It made her think of her prospective students, the ones eager to soak up all the available information at their fingertips. "Since, I'm already here. I may as well give you a crash course on how to count vitals. Listening to your own heart is one thing. Listening to another's... Well, let me demonstrate." There's a slight pause in her speech as she draws close, once again placing the apparatus on him, and positioning the bell in the center of her sternum. " Just concentrate on my heart beat. " Even if her own heart bit was a tad erratic in nature.

Kal'tsit was lingering and doing this on purpose, wasn't she? But by the same measure the master had bade her wait for explanation. Something he was now inwardly cursing and wishing he had left be. Clearly he wouldn't have much luck in changing her mind, so let her believe what she wishes. And yet even so... whatever hand fate now deals him was something he had sown from his uninvited intrusion into her quarters. Going so far as to go through her things...

Doesn't mean he won't make a small fuss.

"Please. I find that rather dramatic of you to assume. I'm not so clueless that I would accidentally or intentionally harm someone. I do know first aid." Yeah, Diluc might be a little testy in his internal race to recompose himself now that Kal'tsit had entered into the room. Ah, he's certainly sealed some manner of fate now. An aversion of gaze as she approaches, only for new curiosity to pique interest.

"Counting vitals? Very well... I can understand if you'd like to teach me something in return after my doing the same."

Alright, miss Feline, you have Diluc back where you likely want him. The promise of new knowledge from her was a rarity and something to be secured. Resumed closeness and how her hands reach up to his face however, almost have him right back to that flustered state. Clip. Touch. Fortunately, it's not his beat being overheard. The thump in his ears when the pieces are set are from her heart.

thmp thmp... thmp thmp... thmp-thmp...

"Oh. Hmmm..." Having just listened to his own it was easier to draw certain distinctions to the sounds from her chest. The pace. The intensity. Tone. The distance between them had shrunk further, as if by drawing closer to the woman more secrets from within may be revealed. Was he reading into it too much? A hand resting on her shoulder, his eyes coming to a close as focus increases. Had Diluc continued, foreheads would be touching.

"...it sounds different from my own. Your heartbeat, it's unsteady. Why is that?" Certainly, as a doctor, Kal'tsit would be aware that her own body was acting peculiar, yes? Might this have something to do with the crystals she didn't speak of, that protruded from her skin?

[frogtanii]

℗ me and my husband

atsumu x fem!reader (poker face ending)

series masterlist

♡´･ᴗ･`♡

wc. 3.2k (holy shit)

warnings. NOT PROOFREAD, v v soft domestic, marriage :00, smut!! (is marked off!!), soft dom!tsumu, hair pulling (giving), unprotected sex, slight praise kink, pretty vanilla ngl

an. can be read as a one shot but u might be confused lmfao also this took SO LONG OMFG also also heavily unedited, take things w a grain of salt lmfao anyways don’t forget to feed me ahaha m rlly proud of this so i hope y’all like it <33

it was moving day and atsumu was about to lose his mind.

today was the official day of the hyper house disbandment and while most of the members were still figuring out new living arrangements and thus remaining past the deadline, you were one of the few trying to get out as soon as possible.

makki and mattsun were so excited to have you move in, they showed up early that morning to help you pack. now, it was around 1p and it was almost time for you to go. you still had a few more boxes to go but things were speeding right along.

normally, atsumu would be right by your best friends helping you out but he was currently in the middle of a breakdown.

you were leaving. leaving. he had no idea when he’d see you again (even though you promised to meet up weekly to catch up), if he would ever see you again. for all he knew, makki and mattsun would just hide you away forever, never to be seen again.

okay, so he was panicking.

it was just... atsumu was in love with you. he’d known for a while (way longer than he’d like to admit) and he selfishly thought he’d have more time with you so that he could work up the courage to confess. but now? you were like three boxes away from a distance that he didn’t know if he or your relationship could recover from.

it wasn’t that he was bad at long distance but the tragic events that the house brought, brought the two of you closer together and he didn’t want to lose that.

atsumu let out a groan and dropped his head against the wall, his mind running with scenario after scenario, all ending in failure and utter embarrassment.

“hey, you okay?” you called out, a large box cradled delicately in your arms. as atsumu turned from the plaster in front of him, he allowed himself a moment to take you in.

you were wearing short athletic shorts, worn converses, and his t shirt. a thin sheen of sweat covered your skin, the lights above reflecting off of it, giving you a warm glow.

of course you looked hot moving boxes.

you called his name again in concern and he immediately felt his heart clench in guilt. you’d already been through so so much and here he was fantasizing about you instead of being there for you like a good friend would.

atsumu let out a sigh and shot you a wide, albeit empty, smile before walking over to you and taking the box out of your hands. the furrow in your brows told him you saw through his expression but he ignored it and made a show of lifting your box above his head and carrying it to mattsun’s car.

“see, what would ya do without these guns angel?” he joked, placing the cardboard into the trunk. you rolled your eyes and poked him in the side playfully. “die, probably.”

the butterflies in his stomach kicked up at the underlying sincerity in your voice but he tried his best to overlook it. it was much harder than it seemed, especially when you looked at him with such fondness in your gaze that made him want to kiss you senseless.

gulping hard, he quickly turned away from you, busying himself with fitting your things in the truck like a game of tetris.

“atsumu.” your voice was firm but pleading and he didn’t dare look at you for fear of spilling everything right then and there. “wow, ya sure got a lot of stuff, huh? wonder how much of this was bought with ushijima’s money,” he started to ramble but thankfully he was interrupted by makki whooping as he walked out of the house.

“last box bitches!” you shot atsumu one final worried look before running over to makki and mattsun, yelling the whole way there.

atsumu was grateful your back was to him because he couldn’t hide the affectionate look that overtook his face, a soft smile spreading across his lips as he watched you hip bump your friends while cackling wildly.

god, he was so in love with you.

what was he going to do when you moved out and away? what if you found someone, someone how loved you as much as he did (not possible)? he would wish for your happiness even at the expense of his own but... what if you both could be happy?

caught up in his thoughts, atsumu didn’t register you saying your goodbyes to the remaining members until you were finally in front of him.

“i’m gonna miss living with you tsum.” you unceremoniously launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his chest. his heart leapt violently at the contact and he prayed to every deity above that you didn’t hear it underneath your head.

he barely managed to hug you back before you pulled away, your eyes slightly teary and red. “um, well, makki and mattsun are waiting for me so uh,” you trailed off looking back at the van and your friends who were so (im)patiently waiting for you to join them.

atsumu’s breath quickened as you scooted a bit away from him, truly getting ready to leave. no, no, it couldn’t end like this, awkward and distant. no, he wasn’t going to let it.

“atsumu?” you asked worriedly, reaching out a hand to touch him when he didn’t respond but he couldn’t hear you. he felt hot all over, like he was going to explode or magically combust if he didn’t get the words out into the air.

“tsum, are you oka-“ “i’m in love with ya.”

you paused, shock written clearly all over your face. the fear of rejection slammed into atsumu like a brick, the feeling settling in the pit of his stomach like a rock but he still didn’t stop.

“i’m in love with ya and i have been for forever. yn, yer beautiful but yer face and body aren’t even the best part of ya, even though they’re pretty damn great. yer just-“

“tsum-“

“-yer so kind, especially when ya don’t need ta be. yer badass but ya care fer others so deeply and ya make me wanna be a better person. ya make me a better person. i know ya-“

“tsumu please-“

“-ya probably don’t feel the same and that’s alright but i needed ta tell ya, before ya leave and fall in love with some other scrub, just in case we can be happy together and-“

all of a sudden, your hands were buried in his shirt and you were pulling him close to meet your lips with his, your mouths meshing together in a soft and passionate kiss.

bliss. atsumu was in sheer bliss. your lips were as soft as he thought they would be as they moved with his, his hands coming up to grip your waist and pull you even closer to him.

sooner than he would have liked, his lungs started burning for air so he pulled back but not very far, instead resting his forehead against yours.

“i was trying to tell you i liked you too, idiot,” you muttered, your eyes still closed as you spoke. he chuckled, a wide grin overtaking his entire face as he really took in what you were saying.

you liked him back. you liked him. holy shit.

but instead of saying any of that, he decided to tease you a bit. “just like? if i recall, i just confessed my undying love for ya.”

you pulled back with a faux scoff, hitting him in the arm with a huff. “shut up you ass. of course i love you too.” you couldn’t keep your real smile off your cheeks while you confessed, your soft expression bringing another wave of desire over atsumu’s body.

“can, can i take ya inside angel?” he allowed his true intentions to be heard in his words, your eyes widening when you figured out what he meant. you nodded vigorously before shooting a look to makki and mattsun. mattsun just waved you off and got into his truck while makki yelled, “get that dick!”

you heated up horribly, grabbing atsumu’s hand and pulling him towards the house and to his room. he allowed himself to be dragged along, sending winks to the other boys as he went until the two of you were standing right in front of his door.

“i love ya,” he whispered, lifting your hand to his lips to place a gentle kiss there. you grinned. “love you too tsum.”

that must have been the final straw because the minute the words left your mouth, he was on you.

••• smut begin•••

pressing you up against the door, atsumu ravaged your mouth, his tongue tangling with yours as he walked you backwards into his room, laying you down on the bed so that he was hovering over you, his hips pressing hard against yours.

instinctively, you ground up into him, rewarding you with a loud groan and a gasp of your name. “fuck angel, yer killing me here,” he laughed breathlessly, rolling his hardness against your thigh. you let out a breathy moan and tangled your hands in his hair to bring him back down to your lips.

as you continued to kiss him, his hands scrambled at your waist, pushing his hands under it to grope at your chest. you giggled at the cold of his fingers but he didn’t pay it any mind, moving down from your mouth to your neck, sucking dark marks into the sensitive skin there.

“ah, shit tsumu,” you tilted your head to the side to give him more access, just as he reached under your bra to tease your nipples. a startled gasp left you, your back arching into his careful touch. “that feel good angel?” atsumu asked, voice low and gravelly as he pinched the delicate bud, drawing another noise from your throat.

you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. you bit your bottom lip while he pulled your shirt and bra off, tossing them somewhere in the room. as he scanned your half naked body, he noticed you quieting yourself and he lightly shook his head. his thumb found its way to your lip, carefully pulling it from between your teeth.

“wanna hear ya angel, let me hear yer pretty noises, yeah?” without letting you respond, atsumu dove back into your chest, suckling one of your nipples into his mouth while toying with the other, a sigh of his name sending a bolt of arousal straight to his loins.

he grinded against you absentmindedly, losing himself in you, eventually switching sides to give the same treatment to your neglected bud.

while atsumu seemed to be having the time of his life attached to your tit, you were getting impatient, your arousal completely soaking through your underwear. you needed more.

tangling your fingers in his blond locks, you attempted to tug him away from your chest but his reaction was unlike anything you could’ve expected. “aahh!” he let out a strangled whine, his hips bucking against your side.

“please, tsumu, need more,” you breathed, his needy reaction not lost on you as pulled his hair a bit harder. you were not disappointed as his eyes rolled back and his mouth opened in a silent moan before dropping his head to your shoulder.

“fuck, fuck, okay angel, i got ya, i got ya.” atsumu swiftly disposed of both yours and his bottoms and underwear before lifting your leg and positioning himself at your entrance.

“tell me if i hurt ya, alright? i love ya,” he smiled down on you, your heart swelling two times at his carefulness. “i love you too,” you replied, watching as his pupils grew and a low groan broke free from his chest.

“oh angel, ‘m gonna ruin ya.” that was the last thing he said before he pushed into you, both of you letting out whimpers as he stretched you open, the blunt head of his cock just a few centimeters shy of your cervix.

your back arched in pleasure, both of your hands scrambling until they found purchase on his back, your nails digging in just when he started to thrust shallowly into you.

“f-fuck, how’re ya s-so fuckin’ tight?” atsumu growled through gritted teeth, every word punctuated with a roll of his hips. you couldn’t respond as you were too overwhelmed with pleasure, his cock rubbing against your g-spot with every slow movement.

speaking of slow, he was moving way too leisurely for your tastes. you needed him to move faster and you knew exactly how to do it.

sliding your hand up from his back, you grabbed a good chunk of hair from the back of his head and pulled. his reaction was immediate and oh-so gratifying.

an honest to god whimper poured from his lips and he instantly thrusted all the way into you, his length driving into your g-spot perfectly. you both let out twin moans as he started rocking into consistently, every movement bringing you closer and closer to your peak.

“i love ya, i love ya so fuckin’ much, angel—shit—yer so amazing, i love ya,” atsumu rambled while pounding into you, deep curses and whines of your name interspersed with his declarations of love. if you could speak, you would reciprocate but you were too busy holding on for dear life as he fucked you into oblivion.

desperate for some kind of anchor to reality, you grasped onto his locks again, gripping tightly as drawn-out cries of his name slipped from your open lips. you were close, so close and he knew it too.

“feel ya clenchin’ around me like a good girl, ya gonna cum fer me? gonna cum fer me angel?” atsumu’s hand snaked down between your bodies to rub fast circles on your clit, a shaky sob finding its way out into the open air.

“oh shit, yeah, ‘m g-gonna cum for you tsum, ‘s all for you,” you moaned, clamping down on him sporadically as you started to cum, your vision whiting out and your thighs trembling while you gushed around him.

your mind was floating off when you felt him cum with a shout, his warmth flooding you and spilling out as he collapsed onto your chest.

••• smut over •••

the two of you lied there for a while, attempting to regain your brain and feeling in your legs. you vaguely made note of the wet rag cleaning between your thighs and the following weight falling down beside you but it was only after a few more minutes that you really came back to yourself, rolling over to lay on atsumu’s bare chest.

“holy shit, tsumu,” you said in awe, your boyfriend (!!) laughing at your reaction. “i’m just that good angel, what can i say?”

you groaned and hit him in the chest but you couldn’t keep the smile off your face if you tried. “you are such a menace!”

“only fittin’ that i picked a gremlin ta be with then,” atsumu teased while playing with a piece of your hair. mock offense filled your chest as you sat up, fixing him with your ‘angriest’ glare.

“is that the kind of language you’ll be using in your vows, mister?” you were only joking but when atsumu’s eyes widened and a blush spread across his cheeks, you realized your mistake.

you opened your mouth to apologize or to make some kind of excuse but he beat you to the punch. “ya wanna marry me angel?” he asked, looking so vulnerable with hope shining in his brown irises. you couldn’t bear to lie.

“of course tsum, you’re it for me,” you reached out a hand to caress his cheek and he leaned into it, his own coming up to cup yours and hold it against his face.

“good.” and that was the end of that, that evening’s... extraneous activities having thoroughly tired to the point that you fell completely asleep with your face against one of his pecs.

if you had stayed awake a little longer, you would’ve seen atsumu pull out his phone and start a new note titled, “my angel.”

if i just said i loved you, it would be an understatement. it would be like saying the sun’s surface is just a bit warm or that the arctic is just a little chilly. it would be an injustice to you and to how i truly feel about you. love—

“-is a word that is much too soft and used far too often ta ever describe the fierce, infinite and blazing passion that i have in my heart for ya angel. ya acknowledge my strengths and ya accept my faults. ya make me wanna be a better person every day. so, today i vow ta laugh with ya and comfort ya during times of joy and times of sorrow. i promise ta always pursue ya, ta fight for ya, and love ya unconditionally and wholeheartedly for the rest of my life. ya are my best friend and i’m the luckiest person on earth ta call ya mine- wait are ya crying?"

the audience burst into laughter as you frantically tried to wipe away your tears, punching atsumu softly on the arm. “of course i am, you ass.”

the officiant cleared his throat, grabbing both of your attentions. “it is the bride’s turn to give her vows. if you may?”

you nodded and atsumu already felt like crying. again. he’d cried that morning while getting dressed and then again when you walked down the aisle in the most beautiful dress he had ever seen. now, as he watched you pull a folded piece of paper out of your bra, he knew he’d made the right decision in confessing to you, all those years ago.

he also knew he was definitely going to cry again.

“atsumu, falling for you wasn’t falling at all—it was walking into a house and knowing that you’re home. today, i want to make you promises that i will always keep. i promise to never stop holding your hand or accepting your kisses. i promise to not hit you too hard when you insult me or call me a gremlin. i promise to share my food with you, to never go to bed angry, and to try and understand your obsession with professional men’s volleyball. i promise to love, respect, protect and trust you, and give you the best of myself, for i know that together we will build a life far better than either of us could imagine alone. i choose you. i’ll choose you over and over and over, without pause, without doubt, i’ll keep choosing you.

i used to never truly enjoy moments because i was always waiting for what's next. the next thing horrible thing to happen. now that i have you, i enjoy the moment. every moment.

today seems like it's the start of a new journey, but i already belong to you. falling for you wasn't falling at all—it was walking into a house and knowing you're home. i love you.”

and at least in this lifetime

we’re sticking together

me and my husband

we’re sticking together

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp • @keiarma • @shrimpypenis

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[wherethewordsare]

I am once again hitting up your ask box to ask for fic

Can i pwease get selkie jask🥺👉👈

Cheese... As always, sorry this took a fucking age? I hope you like it? And just in time for Monster March!!! <3 <3 <3 

There had always been something about Jaskier that set Geralt on edge. But not in the way that he was used to. The way he would smile so easily even when Geralt was gruff and unrelenting left him disarmed and at ease. But it was also the way that there were nights when the moon was high and Jaskier couldn’t seem to find sleep that Geralt’s medallion seemed to buzz with a low but urgent hum. Those nights the smell of brine and sun and sawgrass was nearly chokingly strong, rolling off of Jaskier in waves stronger than a riptide. 

Magic. What kind, Geralt could never figure out. There had been something about the way Jaskier wore his heart on his sleeve that made it feel like there was so little the bard would actually hide from him, but this one thing. Maybe there was siren blood in him after all, maybe it was fae? But no matter what it was, Geralt wasn’t about to send Jaskier away for something he couldn’t definitively prove. And even if he could, would he?

They were near Oxenfurt, summer coming to an end and Geralt watched with interest as every so often, Jaskier’s head would pop up from where he sat around their campfire, looking westward. The way he tilted his chin as though someone had called his name. 

“What are you doing?” Geralt asked. He kept his tone light, his own eyes following Jaskier’s gaze west. 

“Hmm,” was all he got, Jaskier not turning to look at him, his eyes focused on the line of trees across from him. It took him by surprise, their sudden unexpected role reversal. He chuckled. 

“Jask!” Geralt set down the armor he was cleaning, waving a cloth in front of Jaskier’s face. 

“Ah! Right, sorry. Got lost in thought for a moment,” he turned to look at Geralt, his eyes still glazed over with that lost look. “You know, my home isn’t too far from here.” 

“Oxenfurt is just a day’s ride. Have someone waiting for you?” Geralt teased but the idea of Jaskier having someone that could pull him away from the path they traveled together made his tone more accusatory than he had intended. 

“No, not…” Jaskier’s eyes wandered back west again as he fidgeted. “Geralt, I need-” he licked his lips as if he was ready to say something. 

Geralt’s medallion gave a soft hum where it rested against his skin, warmer than it had been. There was nothing here to fight, only Jaskier, face flushed from sitting too close to the fire, his white linen shirt clinging to him slightly in the late summer heat. The nights wouldn’t be cool for another few weeks and they wouldn’t part for a few weeks after that if the snows held off. Or maybe. 

Whatever it was that Jaskier wasn’t saying hung between them in the slight vibration of low magic and crickets. 

“Come with me to the coast? There’s something I need to take care of,” Jaskier was suddenly on his feet, striding with unsure steps to his bedroll, his hands wringing in front of him. The magic stopped and Geralt watched as Jaskier turned his back on where he had been watching. He could see it for what it was, an offer to an answer of a question neither of them had been brave enough to ask. Not yet. 

“Could be some contracts that way,” Geralt mused, reaching for his sword to clean next. 

If he hadn’t been a witcher, if his sight hadn’t been so keen and had he not been already so attuned to Jaskier, he might have missed it. They had been traveling together for what must have been well over a decade now, and never once had Geralt seen Jaskier pull away from him not even remotely. In the fading daylight, it was hard to miss now. The moment Geralt wrapped his hand around the hilt of his sword, Jaskier had flinched away. 

He made no comment, only letting the sword rest back against the log as he changed tactics, reaching instead for another piece of his armor to clean. He couldn’t seem to catch Jaskier’s eyes as the bard finally settled down into his bedroll, turning over so his back was to Geralt. 

There had always been something about Jaskier that had put Geralt on edge, the smell of sea salt and warm sand and kelp that always surfaced, even with all the oils and perfumes he would soak himself in. A kind of worry gripped him, a beginning of an end to the unsaid things between them. Geralt waited patiently for him to drift off, keeping an ear open for the steady even breaths that came when Jaskier slept. Only then did he reach for his swords to clean them.

Silently he prayed to whatever deity would hear him that he would not find reasons to draw them when they reached the coast. 

--

It had been an easy kind of journey, a day to Oxenfurt then another few days to the coast proper. Once they had left the last village behind, Jaskier led the way, keeping always a few strides out front, his fingers nervously tweaking out half conscience tunes on his lute, barely paying attention to anything other than moving onward. Geralt found that there were moments of unending chatter and then complete silence. 

The last night that they camped, the trees had become pine and the grass was rough under Geralt’s hands as he gathered wood for the fire. Jaskier sat quietly by his bedroll, his eyes brighter than they had been in what felt like weeks. He moved his jaw every now and again as though he was trying to find the words to say but the most Geralt could get out of him was broken off sentences and hesitant glances. 

“Do you always kill the monsters?” He asked finally, setting aside his quill and lacing his fingers together in front of him, thumbs twirling anxiously.

“Only the dangerous ones,” Geralt said quietly. He had made sure not to reach for his swords in front of Jaskier since that night he had asked to go to the coast, afraid that the answers would slide away like the tide. 

“Oh, and how do you know when they’re not dangerous?” It had been a conversation they had had before, but then Jaskier had been less pensive, more chatty, taking notes for his ballads. Now his eyes barely looked up from the fire. 

Above them, the moon hung heavy and full, silver catching in Jaskier’s dark hair and casting his features into ethereal shadows where the firelight did not quite reach. Geralt risked moving a little closer, using the poking the fire as pretense before sitting beside Jaskier. 

“What are we doing here, Jaskier?” He wasn’t accusatory or flippant. There had been answers that he needed and he wasn’t sure what the right ones would be. 

Jaskier sat very still, his tongue darting out for a moment. “You know I trust you?” 

It wasn’t what Geralt had been expecting. Hell, it wasn’t something he had even really knew needed saying, not out loud. But they sat there, the words hanging between them like a door that would either be thrown wide open or slammed shut and locked forever. 

Jaskier chuckled, looking away. “I… Can you trust me, Geralt?” He looked over then, his eyes seeming endlessly blue just then, and so full of something that tugged at Geralt’s chest. He only nodded and let the night slip into an easy quiet between them. 

“Fall isn’t too far off at this point. It will be winter before you know it.” It felt so off-balance, Geralt being the one to keep breaking the silence between them. “Unless you have an engagement in Oxenfurt already lined up, I was wondering if you might-” 

Jaskier made a choking sound, his head whipping around to look at Geralt. “Wait!” There was panic in his voice as his hands came up as if to protect himself. 

It wasn’t hard to scent in the air, the sharp sting of fear and anxiety, Jaskier’s heart hammering behind his ribs. His eyes looked wild and it took Geralt a moment not to pull back himself. 

“Wait,” Jaskier took a shaky breath, swallowing. “There’s… Before you ask anything of me, let’s get down to the beach tomorrow. And then-” He looked down, pulling his hands towards his chest. The fear was gone but the anxiety only seemed to grow. It spelled of kelp in the sun and cold oceans in a storm. “Then you can decide if you still want to ask.” 

“Jaskier-” 

“Not here, witcher. Let me get to the shore first?” It wasn’t uncommon for Jaskier to ask things of Geralt but it was rare that they felt this important, this urgent. 

The sound of the fire and the crickets and the ocean far down the hill were the only sounds between them after that. Jaskier after a time made a murmured good night and slipped into his bedroll without another word. Geralt tried to ignore the sharp scent of salt that came from him, different than the ocean, deeper, tinged in everything that made up Jaskier. He doubted either of them slept much that night. 

--

Geralt must have drifted off at some point, however. When he woke up early, the sun was barely up, the fire had banked itself overnight and he was alone save for Roach who grazed in the hazy morning light. 

“Jaskier?” Geralt called, bolting upright and turning. 

“Let me get to the shore first,” he had asked. 

He debated with himself for a moment before deciding that he would leave his swords behind him, though Geralt couldn’t quite bring himself to leave the dagger in his boot behind as well. He moved down towards the beach, following the path through the thinning trees. 

Something was off the moment he stepped out past the first dune. There in the sand, clothes trailed down to the water, Jaskier’s boots kicked off just at the bottom of the first outcropping of rock. Down the beach, a wall of stone rose above the breakers. It would no doubt have a system of caves throughout it. The last of Jaskier’s things seemed to lead that way.

Geralt followed, wishing that he had in fact brought his swords. His medallion hummed then vibrated, shaking against his chest violently as something broke above the waves just to his right. 

A smooth head and wide eyes tilted towards him in the early morning light. The sky above the ocean still dark, the last stars slipping over the far horizon with the last sliver of the moon. The thing in the water moved up to the beach, a large slick body, flippers pushing into the wet sand. 

It gave a kind of greeting, nodding at Geralt as it rested in the sand. 

He hadn’t seen one in so long, Geralt almost didn’t recognize it as a Harbor seal, it’s pelt dark around its face, fading into a spotted silver coat. He didn’t move, let alone breathe as they watched each other for a long moment. 

 When the seal began to push up its body contorting unnaturally, Geralt took a step back, automatically reaching for the knife in his boot. Dark eyes watched him and seemed… disappointed suddenly as the body of the seal continued to convulse and shift. 

The sun broke above the trees and caught the creature in the face and those eyes suddenly shimmered a bright blue. He couldn’t throw his knife down fast enough as the hood of a cloak fell back from Jaskier’s face, sullen and terrified. 

“Well, was worth a shot,” Jaskier gave a wet laugh, pulling his cloak tighter around him. 

“You’re a selkie.” Geralt said flatly, his hands coming up to show he had no weapons. “I thought you were a viscount.” 

To his surprise, Jaskier snorted, the tension in his shoulders relaxing some as shuffled his feet in the sand. 

“I am in fact a viscount and a selkie, on my mother’s side,” he winced. “My father keeps her cloak from her. I just barely managed to-” he swallowed looking down. “Listen, Geralt, I know you plan on going back to Kaer Morhen this winter, and even if you-” he huffed, his hand shooting out from his cloak to rub at the back of his head. 

“You need somewhere to hide your cloak.” a decade of unasked questions started to click into place.

“Yes,” Jaskier sighed. “But you don’t have to-”

“And you trust me? A witcher? Jaskier, if something happened to your cloak you-” would be stuck, would die, would never be free again. He left everything to blow away out to sea in the wind. 

“I do, I trust you as a man, Geralt. I know what I’m asking,” his eyes were sad and suddenly infinitely vast. 

The wind tugged the hem of Jaskier’s cloak, the silvery ends snapping in tune with the crash of the waves. Geralt could see the top of his one thigh peeking between the slick material and suddenly he was far too aware that Jaskier was standing naked in more ways than one on a beach telling Geralt he trusted him with his life. 

He pinched the bridge of his nose as he took a steadying breath. “Get dressed bard.” This level of vulnerability left him feeling dizzy with a feeling he wasn’t ready to look at just then. 

Before going to collect his clothes, Jaskier closed the distance between them, sliding his cloak from his shoulders, the fabric shimmering in the sunlight as he folded it carefully and rested it over Geralt’s arm. 

“Hold this for me?” he asked softly, not meeting Geralt’s eyes. “Keep it safe?” 

There was no hesitation in him as Geralt nodded, laying a careful hand over Jaskier’s, still on the cloak. “Always.”

[aboxthecolourofheartache]

INTIMACY: 49, shaving, shadowgast.

(If you would like a further consideration, I submit that straight razors are very cool and intimate(ly deadly) whether trimming undercuts or beards -- but however you choose to fill the prompt is fine, if this prompt takes your fancy!)

This took a few more tries and drafts than I expected, and ended up spicier than expected.  Here be non-sexual but very intimate content. BIG cw for what is, essentially, very tame knife-play because straight-razors, and also for allusions to Caleb's canon backstory.

~

This should be easier.

They’ve turned the chair to face the mirror. Caleb can see the washroom behind him. Essek perches on the cabinet to Caleb’s left, legs crossed at the ankle, shirt cuffs rolled up to just below the elbow. Adventure slowly adds definition to his narrow frame. The lines of his forearms are stronger. Dove-grey dawn brings out the silver in his eyes.

Last time he visited, Essek asked Caleb to re-define his undercut. Caleb has watched Beau maintain hers for years, so he agreed, and even produced credible results. Essek collected the leavings and took them outside to the far end of the garden to burn. Kryn drow, Caleb learned later, do not lightly cut their hair. Nor do they simply throw it away once cut. It must be burned. Of course, Essek said nothing about the significance of allowing a partner to help, either.

Caleb does not wish to cut his hair. So, he waited until four weeks before this visit and grew out his beard.

His students assume he is working on some all-consuming project in his free time, eccentrically neglectful of his appearance. Caleb never has to worry about patchiness. His beard grows like his father’s, readily and thick.

Eadwulf taught Caleb to shave. Caleb still does not know who taught him. No one’s father, certainly.

This really should be easier.

But the chair. And the razor.

Essek let him cut his hair and said not one word about what that means. Caleb wants to return that wordless significance, to show he knows what Essek shared with him. It should be easier.

Even in trusted hands - graceful, precise, surprisingly strong dark-skinned hands - there is the razor. And the chair.

“I let Yasha shave me with her sword, once.”

Essek’s eyebrow pops up. He leans back a fraction, still poised on the cabinet. “Not with Skingorger,” he says, making the horrified question a concerned statement.

“No, not Skingorger.”

“Magician’s Judge?” Essek sounds a little strangled and a little awed. The blade in its case on the cabinet beside him is much, much smaller. The unfamiliar lunate shape intrigues Caleb. He used his own scissors and straight razor on Essek’s hair.

“She only cut me twice.” Caleb defends Yasha’s swordswomanship.

“That is… hmm.” Essek presses his lips closed.

He’s patient. Caleb’s gratitude knows no bounds. Caleb does not know so many elves - let alone drow - to determine if Essek’s patience is as much cultural as it is Essek. He thinks Essek is far more patient than most, at least in some aspects. Amazing to think that one-and-a-quarter centuries is young. The grey in Caleb’s beard compliments Essek’s love of silver things. Caleb finds he likes the contrast and the irony. Essek’s deceptively youthful face; his own forming laugh lines at less than half Essek’s age.

The razor draws Caleb’s eyes yet again. They’ve turned the chair to face the mirror, and Caleb avoids looking at his own face.

The morning clouds part for a moment, and wan yellow sunlight blooms soft and fades again. Essek looks out the window at the sky, then at the garden below.

“Let’s go outside,” he says. He picks up the razor in its case and takes the hand mirror from its stand on the sink.

Outside, clumps of grass grow up through the bricks of Caleb’s small patio. The garden path is long since consumed by the lawn and the moss. Fallen apples lie undisturbed. It’s yet too early, damp, and chilly for insects. The bricks are very red, dry enough to sit on the low wall between patio and lawn, but showing color heightened by overnight dew.

Caleb brushes crumbs of moss and dirt off the wall before he sits. He sets down the basin, his shaving bowl, the brush, the soap. He already has the towel around his shoulders. Essek suspends the hand mirror midair.

“It will move if you move it,” Essek comments. He’s seen Caleb shave a hundred times, but the ritual of brush and lather still fascinates him. His own chin is smooth; always has been and always will be, unless he wears a false face.

Preparations complete, Caleb sets aside bowl and brush and looks at Essek. He takes a deep breath. “Ja. Alright.”

Essek takes him at his word but still takes the lunate razor from its case where Caleb can plainly see his hands. “I should have brought something for you to rest your head on,” he says apologetically.

“No, this is fine.”

Essek slides his fingers into Caleb’s hair at the back of his neck. Caleb’s shoulders loosen. His eyes half-lid.

“On your right, just at the corner of your jaw.” Essek’s soft voice warns, and the first touch of the razor lands exactly where he says it will. “All is well?”

“Mm.”

The curved blade feels different, as do the motions of its use. Essek is careful, but his grip is firm. Not commanding, but unyielding. When he leans in close, his breath stirs the fine hairs around Caleb’s face. Caleb shivers, and Essek lifts the razor clear.

Caleb refocuses on Essek’s face and finds there that look of singular intent that Essek awards only magic and Caleb. Essek returns to his task, but his thumb slides to the margin of the soft place under Caleb’s jaw and digs in. He tips Caleb’s chin up, pressing just too hard, tipping his head back just too far, holding for the space of a breath - his, Caleb’s having escaped - and then easing angle and pressure.

“Alright?”

“Mm,” says Caleb, balanced on Essek’s thumb with Essek’s blade at his throat, eyes near-shut and pale eyelashes flickering.

“Alright…” Essek repeats, fond, soft. That is as much and as far as he pushes. The razor skims Caleb’s face, revealing fresh, smooth skin.

When Caleb is once again beardless, he rinses his face and towels it dry. Essek sits down on the garden wall beside him to kiss his freshly shaven cheek. Caleb gives in to need and pulls Essek into his arms, buries his face in his shoulder.

They stay until the clouds start to break and the sun grows too strong for Essek’s eyes.

[semischarmed]

The Visit

I glance at my phone. 30 minutes. 30 minutes in this chair waiting for the doctor. 30 minutes in a freezing cold examination room wearing nothing but the disposable gown the nurse told me to wear. Now, I’m normally quite patient, but I begin to worry that they may have simply forgotten about me. I sit up straight, ready to leave the chair and ask for the nurse, when my new doctor comes into the room in a rush.

“Hey, Hey! Sorry, sorry. My last patient meeting went a bit over. That alright?“ He grins and verdant eyes sparkle. The man was dreamy. I could say nothing beyond nodding in agreement. 

“Great! Glad to hear it” he beams. I feel an explosion of warmth within my chest and stomach and can’t help but smile back. 

”Thank you so much for understanding. I’m Doctor Ryan! Good to meet you.” I readily shake his hand. Firm. Sturdy. Calloused.  

“Okay great, so we’re just gonna run through your vitals, and… says here you noticed an odd mark show up near your penis?” I flush bright red in embarrassment at the mention. Unperturbed, he continues without skipping a beat “Hmmm.. we’ll definitely want to get that checked. Probably harmless, but could be something bad…  I know the nurse probably covered most of these questions and took your vitals, but [he smirks] just wanna sure we get everything checked correctly, alright?” Damn it. Doctors always have a such way with words, I can’t help but melt in their arms. I feel a numb happy sensation wash over me and again nod in agreement. He was cute, too cute. God. Of course, whatever he thought this appointment was, he was completely off. Most likely picked up the wrong sheet or something, cause I only came for some immunizations. 

Still, the man has me spellbound. I comply with his every whim as he continues running through his normal questioning. In every word, he further puts my will to sleep, with every phrase he draws me closer. To me, his every sentence has progressively slowed the world around us. Not that I’m complaining. I am adrift, motionless in his pool of questioning, sandwiched between warm ocean and sunlight. For a short few moments, I am at peace. I was practically sleeping by the time the second round of questions finished. I feel a warm hand on my shoulder and break my spell slightly and I focus in on his beautiful face. “You okay there, bud?” More nods his way.

“Awesome. Let’s get started then.”

———

The physical was.. something else. We start with just an examination of my body. Pale, scholarly eyes remark on my every blemish, my every curve. It would be a nightmare in any other scenario, but in the secure glance of my doctor, I knew I was safe. Still, near his radiant heat, I could not help but get just a bit flustered. My answers are short, odd, my heart rate jumping to his vicinity.

He wiggles his stethoscope in the air. “We’re just gonna get your heart rate okay?” My mouth is hanging open and drooling slightly, but I nod. Really, it’s all I can do. Stunned to obedience. He just spoke so confidently, so assured in his examination. His tone was out of this world. It’s bright but resonant, like each word reverberated his command in my chest. His voice was no less potent. Sound-waves embrace the air with sweet honey, but an undertone of audible trust. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything else, still caught in this man’s spell. Now, a handsome man gets me feeling the same way a doctor often does. But he was both. I can manage nothing beyond a smile and continue nodding “okay.” 

I moan at the touch of the stethoscope. It was ice. Penetrative, cold ice, but in his expert hands, it felt like gift from the man. I imagine the metal is a piece of him, precious metal, precious silver embedding itself in me. I want it in me forever- uh, the man, not the stethoscope. 

He grunts. Fuck. “Sorry” I say sheepishly. That moan was definitely audible then. Further embarrassment floods me, only tempered by by the tingling sense of relaxation I felt in being examined by this man. He takes the odd outburst in stride, giving a half smile before continuing. “Believe it or not, you’re not the first”. The man was a professional through and through.

---

In the middle of making sure my reflexes were still functioning, his face winces, and his upper lip trembles, immediately breaking my illusion. He lets out a quick gasp “Ah.. I.. aahhh” barely audibly. I watch as his knuckles grasp the sides of the cushion in my chair desperately, going white in the process. For the first time in our entire session, the haze cast by this man’s being is broken entirely. I feel the dullness in my mind clear as I take note of the oddness from what had just transpired. His mouth goes wide and his face scrunches up into an emotion that I can’t quite place between pain and pleasure. Maybe both? In any case, before I can even investigate further, it relaxes immediately. Emotionless. 

Then, his eyes twitch before going glassy. Doctor Ryan looked like he was about to throw up. Pleading eyes stare into my soul, but the rest of his face remains blank. I am shocked beyond shocked at this point to do anything beyond stare in disbelief while a shit-eating grin slowly paints his face. His eyes blink back to lucidity- now focused on me, and single tear pools on the corner of his left eye and drips down his cheek. He stops it with his thumb before it can drop further, before nonchalantly wrapping plump lips around it. In a slight suction noise, when he pulls the thumb out his mouth in what looks to be a deliberately seductive manner, staring intently at my face the entire time. What the fuck. 

Immediately, he returns to examining me, making no mention of what had just occurred. This time though, his movements seem just a bit erratic, a bit unrefined. I also catch brief glimpses of that same cringing face every time he moves to the next step in his examination, like he was pulling long-forgotten memories from what should be a fairly standard procedure. He repeats the physical, this time going over my every part much more slowly. Any touch, any connection we had seemed to linger just a bit longer than needed. He almost seemed... Interested? Nervous? Whatever case, with every movement, and every step, his hands get a bit steadier, actions more confident. Whatever just happened to him seemed to be over. I am intrigued, if a bit scared. He was acting suspicious. Too many things seemed to line up for me to dismiss this as just normal checkup. In lustful wishes, I invoke whatever I can, hoping I’m correct. I try to sneak a peak at the outline of his admittedly large penis in his scrubs. Absolutely Flaccid. Odd. Disappointing, to say the least. Whatever this weird, hot doctor was doing, he wasn’t getting off on it.

When he gets to my lower body, he abruptly splits my knees open, spreading my legs wide. Another moan almost escapes me. Thankfully a veil of disposable fabric separates my doctor from my now semi-erect penis. Unthankfully, I can’t help but tent the gown full mast when his ice cold hands begin to trace and snake slowly around my inner thigh. I look at him in shock and he just beams back at me like the past few minutes had not just happened. “Hmmm… great legs…” My face goes crimson and I scream internally at my own inability to control my own body. “Okay, your -hNnggg-ah cha-chart, yes. Apologies for the outburst… your chart seemed to mention some concerns about your penis? Let’s take a closer look” He states, looking up at me with a half-smile. 

“No- er, I think- ah, you got the wrong-” I can barely stammer out a response in the raw stimulation of Doctor Ryan grabbing and gently examining my cock and balls. Pleasure bloomed wherever his fingers glided over. This was a mental battle I could not win. Mind versus body. I was fighting myself, my own urges. He makes gentle cupping motions around my balls, back and forth. I look at him in bewilderment. There was no way this was just for a normal examination. He smiles pleasantly, “just checking for anything out of place… so far, so good”. Mystery solved, I guess. He slowly wraps thick fingers, encircling my cock in an embrace. Not solved. Not solved. I am rock hard. He gives a short chuckle. “Well, at the very least, your nerves appear to be working…. Blood flow looks good as well…Nothing out of the ordinary so far”. I am beet red at this point. Fuck me. I can’t even compose myself in front of this man. 

Then, Doctor Ryan gives it a tug. FUCK. 

“Holy shiiiiiit” I moan out. I turn my head away as my body quivers and gives in to a moment of divine pleasure. Betrayed by my own senses. A second, higher pitched moan escapes my now open throat, barely audible, while the a tiny bit of clear fluid spills onto the doctor’s unflinching hand. I can’t bear to look this guy in the eye. I need a new fucking doctor.

“You know, this is completely natural. Absolutely a normal human body response. Don’t worry about it” he says absentmindedly as he continues. “If anything, at least we know you can still produce, so it doesn’t look like there’s anything to worry about”. He mumbles happily. Outside my sightline, I swear I hear a licking, slurping noise. His hand, looked a bit wetter than before too.That being said, my brain has shut down from humiliation. At this point all I can manage is a blank nod. 

“Well, good news- you’re perfectly hea- Oh! Actually, do you mind?” He begins to unbutton his coat and then proceeds set it on the table beside me.  “You know it’s always a bit hot and stuffy in these rooms”. My eyes can’t help but visually eat at the feast before me. Bare chest and stray hairs poke out from his scrubs. The sleeves are taut around his massive biceps. Despite the objectively unflattering material, it can’t help but conform slightly to his muscular physique. It was pretty clear before, but it was definitely fact now. My doctor was hot as fuck. Something about his last question eats away at my my brain. It wasn’t hot at all. The room is cold, dry, sterile. Hell, this whole hospital is. It’s like he has me back in a trance though. Words smooth as silk, body like sculpture. He had a power over me, so I nod in compliance without even acknowledging how absurd the previous statement was.

“So, as I was saying... the good news is your vitals are all in line.” He laughs kindly, patting my stomach “Maybe eat a bit more protein every now and then”. The voice is warm and reassuring. My brain relaxes to the end in sight to this half dream-half nightmare. I start to get up to get changed before I realize the entire reason for the visit.

“Hey-er, wait! My Immunizations! I needed to get some immunizations done for my-“ 

“Oh?” He cuts me off, eyebrows raised. Intrigue paints his face.  

Then he leans in close, head right up to my ear until the parts of chest peaking from the hospital gown touches the stray hairs poking out from his scrubs. Until we share warmth in that cold examination room. He breathes alongside me in rhythm as he exhales.

“You…don’t need any immunizations. I do… well, I did, anyway. It’s too late for him now...But we do have something planned, for you-we’re gonna try an experimental processss. A brand new… test…just for you...” He whispers. He pauses as he continues to breathe and I feel the hot, damp air emanating from his mouth coat my ear. “We need to test you for... stimulation.” Dear God. That last word he draws out in a far, far different tone than before. It neither clinical nor polite, and it hit like a brick. There was raw emotion in that last word. Raw lust. He cups the other side of my face pulling my left cheek to touch his. Like his chest, it’s quite warm. I’m flush with redness and confusion. I gulp nervously.

His tone returns in its warmth and politeness, contrasted by the intimate position we are in. “Hmmmmm salivating...mmmm... Quite a bit actually. You’re either haven’t eaten… or… you’re hungry for something.” I can’t manage out anything coherent amidst the sensory overload. He continues confidently, “C’mon... I’m your primary care physician? Let me take care of it. Let me take care of you...” He sticks his hand down his own pants, scratching to readjust. With our chests together, I am brought to our present moment. A moment in paradise. When he ebbs, I flow. Like a dance, my chest caves in with every exhale as his puffs out. He does in turn. We were partners. His scent pours out unconfined, unfiltered by distance, concentrated in our proximity. Like rainfall and crushed grass. I could live in it. With our cheeks pressed together, I feel his every movement. Every word spoken drawn in by my inhale. These would be mine to keep. This moment was ours and ours alone. He brings up the same hand, now a bit slimier to take a whiff before shoving that sweaty, funky smelling hand right to my face. I can’t control myself and start inhaling my hot doctor. I lick the man’s hand clean. Delicious.

I continue lapping it up in silence before he finally breaks it to speak. “Mhmmmmm... that’s the stuff... Maybe if we feed you enough of this hot doctor’s cum, you’d pick up on some of his residual intelligence and figure who’s really running this man.” My eyes light up, and the pieces finally all click together in my head. I chuckle. 

“Good to see you too, Ben.”

———

“Leave it to humans to take something so beautifully sensual and twist it. He’s a bit too good at compartmentalizing. In many respects… It’s fucking hot. But, you know, when he’s in this work mode, he sees you as nothing more than sack of meat. We’re not getting anywhere with him without a little push”. Without warning, Ben pulls the doctor’s pants down and fiddles with his new dick- still flaccid. Jesus Christ it’s huge. 

“Look, even this... appendage. Yes that’s an atypical response. I mean look at me, look at this new body we acquired. I’m swimming in this human’s hormones.” He wraps his hand around and begins pumping it. “But see here, it’s still all clinical in this head. I can only get inside him so far. We need something to end this human’s resistance. We need something extra to break him out of this trance. We need raw emotion.”

Just then, the door comes wide open. It’s Austin.

As he closes the door behind him, I see his face more clearly. It’s Austin’s body, but its pilot is undeniably Ben. Austin had a certain swagger to him that my little alien buddy just can’t quite replicate.

Ryan’s mouth opens wide and I watch as his true form exits from my doctor’s mouth and shoot strait into Austin’s welcoming nose. I watch as the doctor goes lucid. His eyes go wide and he stares at me in horror before attempting to escape. Before he can, he is pinned to the ground by the far larger Austin. “Cmon man, smell this fucking body. Feel something”

“If you can’t… we’ll do it for you. We’re going for a wild ride.. relax and enjoy it.” Austin’s eyes roll to the back of his head, and I watch as he gives a crazed grin, jaws open unnaturally wide. His tongue sticks out, his head is bright red, and pulsing silver courses through now-prominent veins. Damn. My Doctor looks at me with one last pleading glance, but all I can do is moan “I want you mine.” 

Doctor Ryan lets out an involuntary scream when he notices the changes in Austin’s face, which only work to his disadvantage as a pulsating, semi-solid mass of silver falls into his open maw. Austin sticks their mouths together. Using his tongue, he maintains a steady passageway for Ben. Using his lips, Austin keeps the doctor’s pried open to forcibly receive the precious silver. Their heads bob back and forth as more and more of the slimy mass falls into doctor. I watch as a massive lumps outline themselves in his throat, then his chest, before disappearing into the depths of his body. I notice a little bit pool and spill out the corner of his mouth. When the process is over, Austin’s body falls limply to the side. I stare at the messy pile of silver goo still smeared over Ryan’s drooling mouth. Should I?

I lean over, giving my dream man a kiss. My eyes flutter at the prospect. Ugh, he’s perfect. I feel the every contour of the face of man who would soon be ours, before sucking up the excess silver an a bit of his drool in my mouth. No use putting this stuff to waste. 

In a flash, I feel ecstasy. “Jesus fucking christ” I moan, as I feel a burst of energy from within. The parts of silver which were Ben settle into me, surging me with power and I feel his thoughts reverberate in my mind. In that split second, I also feel the vertigo of looking from two bodies at once. I feel the immense pleasure of controlling two bodies at once and the parts of silver which were Austin become immediately apparent. Goddamn what a fucking power trip. Austin was mine. A quick rush of stolen confidence from my previous tormentor floods my insides and I welcome my updated sense of self. Fuck yeah. Took a part of him for me. He’s never getting this back. I stare at his body and will it up. My dominion, now. While his head still hung unconscious, I move my fingers and tingle in delight as I watch his hands follow. The moment is fleeting though, and I feel the disappointment as my vision recedes back to my singular one.”Hope you liked that” I feel Ben state in my head. “Just a taste. This piece of us you’ve ingested... I think it’s best you keep it. I find this setup beneficial to us both. We can keep in constant contact this way. You might find some residual power left over Austin too, thought probably not in the way you think… at least… not yet.“ 

Before I can question him in my head, the doctor’s body shivers awake and then spasms before letting out a primal scream. Ryan’s looked... bigger? Almost swollen. His body occupied the same space they did before, but there was a larger presence to him. His muscles pump up, obviously riled into a frenzy. “Just a little attitude adjustment, and...Goddamn easy mode, Fuck!” He faces me. His eyes are rolled to the back of his head and silvery veins pulse all over his body. Seconds later, he settles and his eyes return to focus me. “Fuck yeah, you wanted this doctor, right? Bro, you know my bod’s way better. Fuck it though, I don’t care  as I’m a part of the ride. Remember your fucking promise.” He states through gritted teeth. Unnatural coming out of the normally Angelic Doctor Ryan. 

“Your Doc’s too nice though, right? You… Ben… you deserve better. I’ll make us better for you. Look how much fucking bigger, how much more of a fucking man we are with some Austin mixed in....” I am speechless, but he’s right. The doctor now exuded a dominating presence. In any other circumstance, I’d be frightened and compliant. In the presence of Ben, I felt safe.

“Thank Ben he brought us inside this man. Mmmmmm his brain is delicious… I feel so much smarter inside him. We’re gonna fuck him up. Make him better, like you did to me. Twist his head. Make him want your cum almost as much as I do. Make him want to spread more Ben around…. Mmmm speaking of, I feel him inside me. He’s squirming into us both out and goddamn it feels good.” Ryan’s body moans Austin’s moan. “I can’t wait for you to learn how to do this... to put yourself inside me-Please! Fuck! Learn it faster! That... part of me you stole… I feel good as part of you, right? You like it in you, right? Pure fucking jock. Take good care of it…more where that came from”. It was definitely my doctor, but between the behavior and facial expressions, undeniably Austin. Well, post-Ben Austin.

“I-Arrgh” I watch curiously as the doctor’s body shivers. “Ben’s... ready for you.” He winks as his eyes briefly roll to their sockets and roll back. Austin-er Ryan’s demeanor immediately changed ”Had to do a little arranging inside this doctor. We just need one final piece. Ryan’s body ready to receive its new masters. I need you to put as much cum inside this man as you can... I really like this one, his position is useful. But his mind... it’s so vast. He’s no Austin...It’s gonna take a lot more of our genetic material to tame it.”

Austin-er Ben does pushups on the floor. He clears a few hundred before wiping his sweat all over his scrubs. Of course, despite channeling Austin’s very essence, this body is not nearly as buff or as muscular as his so I watch as Ryan is forced to push up and down beyond his limits, tears streaming down his eyes, hands and legs shaking in protest, forced smiling all the while. Previously crisp scrub are now stained, damp in Ben’s body’s perspiration. The smell this weird, hybrid mix emanated was unique. Of course, it still had the cleanliness I’d expect from a doctor. Fresh cologne and nature- exactly what I’d expect from the healthy, professional man which had previous examined me. This man before me was not the same man as before. Because, interwoven was the musk, the testosterone, the pungent stink of our deranged puppet Austin. It was altogether divine. 

“Look at this.” He states with a sneer as he does a bicep flex. His damp scrubs hug his muscle tightly, almost breaking at the seams. The bicep is throbbing. “I feel this body crying in pain and exhaustion. From his mind though... do you know how muscles are made? Tiny tears regrown stronger” A pulse of silver darts through his veins, immediately returning it to stillness. “What wonderful new information. We’re gonna use that. Fill into these layers with a bit of Ben, and a bit of you”. He starts laughing now “Doc Ryan here doesn’t call the shots…This isn’t his body anymore… It’s ours.” 

With that, Ben lifts my gown and sticks his drenched head near my already-hard cock. Fuck he’s warm. Our sweat and scents mingle and I feel my inner thighs go moist in the perspiration in the air. 

“Austin, to the forefront. Combined effort. We need him body and mind. Let us create a new Ryan,” he states. My doctor slowly wrap his thick, plump lips over my dick. Moment’s later, the man’s wet tongue slides forward. I shudder. A bit tickles in a spot just below the head and I squirm on the spot. Jesus fuck, oh- oh fuck, he’s good- he’s really good.

My shaking hands are sloppily held in place. I move them reflexively in the onslaught of pleasure. It’s like Ryan’s body was made for this. Absolute Heaven. I let out a loud moan as I continue to squirm in the confines of my position. Ben had commandeered some control of Austin’s unconscious body, and it stood there, just over me, holding my hands in place and body. Its eyes were rolled back, mouth drooling. Bits of spit dribbled to my forehead. I paid them no mind. Basically an extension of my own bodily fluids at this point anyway. Besides, whatever made Austin, Austin was mostly inside Ryan now, helping Ben add a wonderful new addition to our collection. 

Ryan’s sensual motions, His body expertly bobbing, beckons mine. Erotic symphony. I can do nothing beyond quake in my seat. I hold for as long as I can but it’s too much. This was it. First, I moan. Then, I scream. FUCK. Goddamn bliss. Sweet Release. Pure Ecstasy. I am reduced to babbling internally as I release more and more of myself inside Ryan’s welcoming mouth. Using his powerful chest, he creates a slight suction, greedily taking as much of my cum inside as he can. The body begins to choke for air, but I feel Austin and Ben smile instead and continue inhaling my cum. Their eyes only relayed one word. More. There’s not much else I could have done anyway, because I continue to spew load after load inside the man. It’s the best I ever felt, the longest it’s ever been and the most I ever given. I sit in extended euphoria, paralyzed in bliss. Logic aside, ethics aside, this was my new order. Our new order. In my mind I strive to continue on, to bring more to this light. So many delicious fucking bodies in this town. So many new ‘me’s destined, yearning for my control- even if they didn’t know it yet. That last bit might have been some of Austin’s megalomania in me.   

The phone rings at Ryan’s side and he picks it up. Someone patches in a call. 

“Doctor are you alright? We heard some odd noises“. I watch Ben in alarm. He cracks his head to the side, cock still in his mouth, and veins coursing in silver fluid display prominently in his temples. He switches demeanor almost seamlessly back. In contrast, like strings cut, Austin’s body falls over me, unmoving. I didn’t mind. I inhale his jock essence as I listen in.

“Yewph- Iw- Ehem.. I’m quiw ahwigh, *gulp*… ahhh yeah.. Apologies, Nancy this appointment is taking just a bit longer than expected. I’ll be ready soon- just need a little more time with this one.” Every word again resounds warmly, calmly, politely in this man. When Ben channels Ryan, it’s like I’m hearing the same person who examined me earlier. He was ours. I glance his way and a bit of my cum is still on his lips as he continues his conversation. He happily draws it to his mouth with a finger and sucks it clean. My cock is drenched in the doctors sweat. Fucking hot. Ben found us a real catch. “Dr. Ben” ends the call and mentally, he’s back to our present situation, back to huffing in breathless pleasure, as he continues sucking the any residual mess in me clean. He gives me a wink as he finishes. 

Ryan then stands over to Austin, and, in a reverse of the process from earlier vomits out the same silvery mass, now slick with streaks of white, back into its container. There was significantly less this time. From the still open mouth of Ryan, I watch the tiny man emerge, giving me a motion that indicated he was smiling. “I’m staying in this one a bit longer. Driving this particular specimen gives me a pleasure not wholly physical.” The mouth slowly closes and Ryan’s eyes show life again. He smiles. I look expectantly at the two of them. They begin making out. The sounds are sloppy and I can’t help but get a bit jealous. Taking note, they both stop abruptly before giving me a wink. The both speak at once while Ryan begins stripping stark naked.

“Can’t help it...You should come and stay in this room for a while. My next patient’s got quite a body we can utilize, based on this man’s memory. You still got some cum left in you? I can’t expand further without it” I nod happily. If Ben thinks he’s cute, we had to at least try. What am I saying? I can produce like a motherfucker, took part of my bully inside, made it mine. I may not look it yet, but I was alpha now.  

“Austin, strip down, I need some new clothes, and yours are a better fit.” Austin’s face cringes and I watch as his normal personality returns. Normal was a stretch, because he was far more subservient now than he was before this all began. Ben then looks at me with a toothy smile as he walks over to my pile of neatly folded clothes and digs out my underwear. He nonchalantly strips stark naked and then proceeds to put on my underwear. “This is a tight- Hmph!” He struggles to get each thick leg through “-ah, your clothes...Mmm! So tiny”. This results in my hot, nearly naked doctor wearing my underwear tightly. It’s pulled to its seams as it’s forced to constrict and hold together the doctor’s massive package. I watch as his cock begins to get hard, only to be restricted by the fabric. He moans at the setup. “Ayyyyeeee fuck! Fuck yeah. It feels like you’re in here, squeezing this host’s cock and ass. I’m gonna make sure he wears this forever. I’m gonna make sure this imprints our scent into this man. Look at me. Look at this muscle. Ryan..mmmmm.... all the brains and brawn in the world couldn’t help you. Every time he gets hard on, I want him to be wearing this. I want his penis to scrape this, to be bound by it, forever a reminder of who the real Ryan is now.”

Ben’s new doctor personality switches back. He politely gestures to his pile of clothes, still freshly warm before looking at me. “If you’re gonna be my assistant, you’ll need to look the part,” he states with a kind smile. I eye the warm pile, almost steaming in the residual heat. Ryan’s body licks its lips. Ben again. “Wear it. This man is ours, forever. Take ownership of that. Of those clothes. There’s so much of your genetic material embedded inside this particular specimen, at this point these are your own as much as it is his.”

I rush over to put the scrubs on, to feel the residual heat in my doctor Ryan envelop me. I relish in it. Still warm and moist with his sweat. It was like I was wearing the man myself. Of course, it fits loosely over me, and I barely pass as an assistant. He leans over to me. “smell it” he whispers. “Smell yourself. I like you better this way”. He’s right. I smell so fucking alpha in this getup. Ben then begins putting on Austin’s clothes, which are a much better fit. 

In contrast, Austin is forced to wear the remainder my clothes, which he creepily sniffs first and ends up with it fitting way too tight and revealing on him. I gesture to offer the scrubs I just put on instead, but he immediately declines in a huff, “No... I’m fucking better this way. More... complete” He moans “This was the way I was meant to be... yours... wearing this makes me feel like you’re here inside me, wearing your own clothes. I belong like this...This is your body, it misses you, and he doesn’t feel whole until you’re back home.” He pats himself. “I can’t wait for you to become this. And I’m not fucking taking no for an answer either. One day, I’m putting you where you belong- inside me so we can never be separated again. Moving around feels empty when you’re not in here doing it for me”. What the fuck did Ben do? The guy, my previous bully was horny just being near me. It felt amazing.

I silently thank Ben. Whatever Austin was rambling on about turned me the fuck on. I smiled. That piece of Austin I ingested earlier- I think his shitty vocab’s been rubbing off on me. Regardless, Austin was right- wearing him, controlling him from the inside was where I belonged. I deserved it. Deserved him. “Wait for us at home- we won’t be long” Ben instructs Austin through Ryan in a fatherly tone. Austin complies, leaving the room, staring longingly at me until he no longer could. 

Ben puts on his coat. “Well then, that’s settled. I hope your cock is ready, human, we have a full schedule of bodies to possess.“

-End of “Ben Pt. 2″-

A smarter version of me would have split this into two parts. Also, preemptive apologies to anyone in a medical profession.

[saabbi]

Regret part 7

Warmth in the freezing snow

Genshin Impact Adeptus!reader au

warnings: light angst?, mentions of drugging and syringes, probably messy, crappy quality

words: ~2.8k

Notes: series is resuming after the hiatus. I had a hard time writing this chapter (because I suck at writing) so I really hope this chapter didn't turn out to be too messy and confusing. ao3 series link

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Stepping out the ship, you’re immediately greeted by the harsh and nostalgic icy cold breeze. Pure white snowflakes that dance around your vision and the pile of soft snow beneath your feet tells you that you’re back in Snezhnaya.

You asked a subordinate to help you deliver the lantern you had bought for Teucer and obediently followed another Fatui member, who guided you to the chamber where the Tsarista is patiently waiting for your arrival.

“Your highness, I have returned.” You kneeled down on one knee, head lowering to pay your respects. The Tsarista’s ice cold gaze pierces you, making you anxious on why she summoned you.

“My loyal subject.” a voice so calm and quiet, barely to be heard, yet crystal clear and reverberates around the shallow and empty hall, sending a chill down your spine. You look up upon her call, acknowledging that she remains ever so strikingly breath-taking, as resplendent as the most exquisite flower, as elegant as Snezhnaya’s never-melting snow.

“Dottore has found a way to further enhance the capabilities of Fatui, and your aid is needed to achieve it.” She walks closer to you with each step, stopping just before your kneeled figure.

“To achieve it, your aid is necessary. I trust that you will provide all the help Dottore needs dutifully, yes?” A simple question, but her tone indicates that she does not accept rejection as an answer.

“Yes, of course.” The Tsarista seems delighted at your answer, resting her chilly hand on your cheeks and lightly caressing it with her thumb. The subtle intimate gesture however, was nothing resembling that of affection. The Tsarista’s sharp gaze remains fixated on you, yet it doesn’t feel like she’s properly looking at you at all. Her gaze has always been like that, as if she’s looking for something deeper in your soul, but not your existence.

“Dottore, come in. The final mission of our primeval harbinger shall now be performed.” The coldness on your cheeks is replaced by the sudden gushes of wind, the words leaving the Tsarista’s mouth leaving you off guard as you abruptly shot your head up.

“...Your highness? What does that-” Cut off by a harsh slam of the door, you turn to the entrance only to reveal a masked man with curly blue locks- Dottore. The condescending smirk spreading on his face as he meets your wary eyes sets off alarms in your head, screaming that this man is up to no good.

Your hand immediately reaches towards the hilt of your sword resting on your hips, ready to draw it out if he makes any suspicious movements. Furrowing your eyebrows and eyeing Dottore’s every move, unsure of what he would do.

“Relax, relax. This is all under the Tsarista’s orders, doesn’t do too much harm...I guess?” Dottore, now casually twirling a syringe filled with a dangerous-looking fluid, puts his hands up in the air in a placating manner, but his halfhearted response only makes you glare at him cautiously.

“I will have to question you on what you’re about to do, Dottore.” It’s all under the Tsarista’s orders, and you thought it would just be something about training new Fatui recruits, but Dottore’s behaviour insinuates that there is much more than that, and seems like the syringe is to be used on you.

“Oh this? Haha! I’m not quite sure, maybe knock you out for a bit? Y’know, draw out your adeptal powers to the maximum potential, I weaponise it, and voila! Fatui gets a new upgrade! Wonderful plan right?”

Dottore sure made it sound like no big deal, but you know that’s not all the catch. Because if it’s about your adeptal powers, then surely, the Tsarista’s intention is to-

“You’d better not do any stupid movements with your sword, yeah? It would be bad if you were to go against her highness’ orders, after all, you are her most loyal subordinate. Unless… you plan to commit treachery?” Dottore leered as your grip on the sword tightens, conflicted on what to do.

Reluctantly, you peered over to the Tsarista, who has not said a word at the impasse and tense situation between you and Dottore, silently watching everything unfold before her. The Tsarista’s glacial smile never fades as she meets your gaze, not giving you a definite response, but perhaps acknowledging Dottore’s words.

“That’s… not all there is to this, is it?” Despite your loyalty to the Tsarista, this question must be raised for your own sake. Adeptal energy has always been a rather sensitive subject to both you and the Tsarista, with you knowing that she has always wanted to utilise your mysterious powers to help her achieve her goals.

“Quite the sharp one huh? Well I suppose there’s no use beating around the bush, I’ll do you the favour in telling you this- Your adeptal energy is to be drained completely for us to use, ahahaha!” A fit of manical laughter jolted through him, his atrocious appearance matching his abhorrent personality.

“And that would leave me...vulnerable and powerless?” The appalling smirk that makes you want to throw up, the messed up plan that makes you want to run away from the Tsarista’s chambers.

“B i n g o! You neither have a vision nor delusion, so without those powers, you’re pretty much useless.” Dottore approaches you, barely stopping in front of you. Lowering his voice, he mumbled into your ears, “and you’ll be thrown away by the Tsarista, officially being useless to her. I’m sure you know by now, that all her highness cares about is that adeptal energy of yours, and not you yourself?” even at such a low volume, his mockery towards you can clearly be heard.

Of course you knew, that all the Tsarista’s interested in is your mysterious powers. It doesn’t take a detective to figure out her intentions in bringing you to her nation. Even after millennia of you serving her with your utmost loyalty, all she has taken interest in is your powers.

The cold Tsarista that requested you like an object from Morax as a trade of peace, and never paid you much attention. The Tsarista who only shows you some form of affection and addresses your name when she needs you to carry out her plans. To her, it was obvious that you are a mere chess piece, for her to attain her grand goals.

Despite knowing this, you still turned your head once more towards the Tsarista, locking gazes with her, searching for something that even you yourself wasn’t sure what you’re looking for in her eyes, but to no avail, the same empty eyes with no any sort of emotion returning your disappointment. That is how little you meant to her.

It has always been, a foolish hope of yours, to believe that one day, if you stay by her side long enough, you would become a figure that holds much more place in her heart. But that has never been the case, her icy heart never had space for you, locking you out. She has enough love for all the other harbingers, all except you.

The best course of action right now, is to draw out your blade and resist against the Tsarista. You have to defend yourself, you have to get out alive and well, because you promised Zhongli, Xiao, and Ganyu to return. You have to unsheathe your sword right this instant.

But your hands remain frozen, disobeying your commands and desperate internal cries. It should be simple, to protect yourself against those who could not care less about your existence and never acknowledging you, and flee to Liyue. So why can’t you bring yourself to do so?

Because it would mean that you’re defying the person whom your loyalty is dedicated to, denying the Tsarista’s ambitions.

The same Tsarista who ripped you apart from your family, but also the one who gave you a new identity, and a new place to call home, giving you a reason to live on by serving her.

And you who watched over her carefully throughout your lifetime; when she became obsessed with the idea of bringing down celestia, to the point where delusions are invented just for the sole purpose of resisting against the sacred land where gods are rumoured to reside.

You never found out the reason behind her obstinacy in bringing down celestia, but you stayed beside her long enough to witness her desire for power and authority to continue to expand into a bottomless abyss, and the times when she struggled.

Times when her immature plans backfired, times she felt livid and Snezhnaya would be in raging blizzards for weeks, times when she doubted her own decisions. You were always there, by her side and ready to jump into action whenever she needed you to.

Through trial and error, she learned to develop well thought-out plans after calculations and taking precautionary measures, and recruited talented individuals. The harder she falls, the higher she bounces. She was undeniably a dazzling existence to you.

The Tsarista is a blinding lone star that continues to glisten even if other stars have faded, showing its resistance towards the devouring night sky. Someone so cruel and brutal, yet ever so resplendent, that you couldn’t peel your eyes off her.

A star that defies the night sky.

And you, who only knew how to live under orders and pretty much lived a tedious life besides carrying out Fatui duties, are dull and have long succumbed to darkness.

So how could you deny her? The one who never faltered, the flames of ambition that refuses to die out no matter what? You couldn’t bring yourself to betray her even at this very moment, because you have watched over her for far too long.

“This turned out to be rather...disappointing.” Seeing you loosening your grip on the sword and putting down your defenses, Dottore scoffs.

You take a sharp inhale, making up your mind. Regretfully, your decision is to stay loyal to the Tsarista and faithfully do as she wishes up until the very end. A very foolish decision even you are aware of, and one that makes your heart scream in agony knowing that you’re once again being thrown away. Even so, this is the path you have chosen.

.

.

.

Drained, you felt. It felt as if your powers erupted all at once, and got sucked dry by a vacuum cleaner and left to die on the road. Your role as the twelfth harbinger has been dismissed, now just an identity-less wanderer. The Tsarista truly is a cruel person, you thought, to just throw you out and let you crawl away all by your own whilst surrounded by nothing but coldness and snow, knowing that you right now are incredibly weak and vulnerable. She didn’t even have someone to escort you to a shelter, simply took away your harbinger identification with the usual eerie smile.

But archons do you feel horrible, dizzy and nauseous, on the verge of passing out. Now that you’ve lost your place, where would you go? Tired, cold and nowhere to go, you lean on a nearby bark to grab a hold of yourself, trying figure out what to do from now on.

Slumping down and shutting your eyes, you are forced to face your own emotions that you have repressed in the Tsarista’s chambers. Your heart aches so much, the strong pulsations being the only thing resounding in your ears, it hurts more than how your body is right now.

What a pathetic destiny you face, to be thrown away whom you trusted and served twice in your lifetime. It hurts so much, your heart continuously screams to you, not forgiving the way you hurt it so severely. So pathetic, you are so pathetic, you thought.

Even after millennia, you still never found a place you truly belonged to, your miserable and pathetic self was not accepted anywhere. You know very well the Tsarista has always been using you, yet facing the harsh reality is not as easy as you thought.

Wouldn’t it be better if the abyss consumed you? To be embraced by darkness and vanish, not having to face pointless emotions and drama? If only your eyes never opened back from the first time you dirtied your own hands, and instead swallow by the cold and hungry arms of demise- if you only died back then, would you still have to face such circumstances?

“...Hey, comrade.” a light whisper of a familiar voice enters your ears, dragging you back from your thoughts. You looked up at the one who called for you, only to find your vision blurry and cheeks feeling wet and cold. You didn’t even realise droplets of tears had trickled down your cheeks, you are even surprised that you’re capable of crying, you hadn’t shed a tear, let alone cry out loud for so long that you had forgotten how it felt.

Childe crawls closer, slowly wrapping you into a warm hug and gently strokes you on the head like how he has treats his siblings. You feel embarrassed to be comforted by someone much younger than you and being treated like a child, but returned the hug nonetheless. Not knowing how much you needed a hug, you find his embrace to be pleasant and safe.

“There’s a ship heading to Liyue, so let’s get you home to where it’s warm and safe, yeah?” Home, Childe said, you wanted to retort, but somehow ‘home’ and ‘Liyue’ just sounded right. Is it okay if you return there? To seek asylum?

“Come on comrade, it’d be devastating if you missed the ride!” slumping your weak arms over his shoulders and a hand on your waist to support you, lifting you onto your feet to lead you to the harbour.

“I-I’m sorry for what happened, and that I...I couldn’t help you. If I had known what Dottore was scheming, I would have talked to the Tsarista and convince her not to adopt such a brutal method.” His cheery voice is replaced by one with remorse, avoiding your eyes.

“I didn’t know Dottore came up with such an outrageous method, the Tsarista didn’t inform us of her plan! I- I should’ve known Dottore was up to no good! I could’ve done something-” Getting agitated, his speech hastens and stumbles over his own words.

“Hey, hey. Calm down, you know it’s not your fault.” You cut him off, giving him a soft slap on the back. “The Tsarista had such plans a long time ago, she just...never found the right methods until today, I guess.”

Somehow, it only made Childe feel even worse, guilt and sympathy all shown on his face.

“Come on, where’s your usual jolly self? A gloomy expression doesn't suit you at all. Teucer and Tonia will be worried for their #1 toymaker of Snezhnaya.” you mustered a feeble smile, assuring him that you’re fine.

“Well, never thought I’d hear you crack a joke after all these years…” Childe’s lips curve into a relieved and playful smile. Although, you have to admit, it does makes you feel better knowing that he’s worried for you.

.

.

.

“This is the Crux, you might’ve seen their crew around Liyue before. I spoke with the captain, and it’s a huge relief that she accepted our request!” You and Childe stumbled into the guest room that is kindly lent to you, with Childe immediately helping you get on the bed and wrapping you in blankets.

“You had a not-so-pleasant eventful day, it’s best if you warm up and rest now. I can’t go back with you, but I’ve contacted Zhongli, he should be there to pick you up when you arrive.” with a soft tone, Childe picks up your hand and gently strokes your palms, taking a note of your pale complexion, you remind him of his siblings when they were sick. He turns to leave you alone, about to close the door.

“Hey, Childe?” He abruptly stops and turns back to you with a concerned look, worried if you’re still feeling unwell and perhaps he could help.

“Thank you.” but only two simple words came out of your mouth. So simple and short, but more than enough to convey the gratitude and respect you held for him.

Childe breaks into a beaming smile, “Of course! We’re friends after all, right comrade? I think I’m even your best friend!” to which you chuckled. Yeah, you suppose he isn’t wrong on that.

Just before he closes the door completely, he halts and opens his mouth, “Teucer adored your gift, he and Tonia wanted to prepare something in return… I’ll bring it to you next time, yeah? And perhaps drink tea too at Zhongli’s?”

“Yes, I shall look forward to dear Teucer and Tonia’s gift then, it’s a promise.” You feel your consciousness slip away, closing your eyes and replying to Childe with a light smile on your face.

“It’s a promise!” He enthusiastically replied, only to realise he should tone it down to let you sleep in peace. “Sweet dreams, comrade.” Just before passing out on your bed, you hear Childe’s almost inaudible reply and a click on the door shutting close.

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[startanewdream]

Captain Potter

Summary: Lily Evans has a secret that the army cannot know and it doesn't help that her captain is trying to be her friend.

Note: So I was watching Mulan and it's Shirtless JP May and this got me into googling shirtless army man, so please enjoy this piece of very much self-indulgence set in another AU. Also, I have no knowledge of military ranks, so bear with me.

Read on AO3 or below:

‘Evans’, the captain calls, and Lily turns to him, slightly afraid as she always feels when she hears her name. Maybe this is the day her secret will be found, this is the day she will be expelled and will fall in disgrace —

But Captain Potter has one of his carefree trademark grins, none at all looking as if he is about to arrest her. He looks at ease, leaning against one of the training posts, arms crossed lazily, watching her with interest shining in his hazel eyes as if she is a puzzle he will understand someday.

Lily truly wishes he won't, so she avoids looking at him directly in the eyes.

‘Captain’, she answers at least, saluting. That seems to amuse him.

‘I have a name, you know’.

‘Hum’, she stops, unsure. Her interactions with the captain have been restricted — well, her interactions with everyone have been limited —, but she has watched him from afar.

He is young and yet he never tries to act bossy with all the other soldiers, never tries to impose himself. He may have a more affinity with three of the soldiers (his friends for a long time, as she gathered), but he tries to treat everyone fairly, encouraging and teaching all soldiers equally, from the weakest of them to the strongest, and it’s not hard for her to see why everyone is willing to follow him into battle. The only one that he hadn’t been able to reach some sort of relationship was with her.

Something that had fit Lily’s plans and worries very well.

‘Captain Potter?’, she tries.

‘I am someone besides a rank’, he suggests.

‘Mr. Potter’.

‘That would be my father. I am James ’, he says at least, as if she is unfamiliar with the name of the youngest captain of the army.

‘I know , but — it would not be proper —’

‘Liam’, he stops her and, just as anytime someone uses that name, Lily wants to look around searching for that person until she remembers her situation. ‘Can I call you Liam?’

‘I’d rather Evans’, she answers, grimacing, and when he looks dismayed, she adds quickly: ‘It’s how everyone calls me. Not… it’s more personal, really’.

‘Fine, Evans’. He grins again. It’s a beautiful smile, so open and inviting, that again Lily has no difficulty understanding the success he makes with all the other soldiers, why their unity is unanimous in praising him. There is something on him that draws people to him — her included. ‘Well, call me James. I can order you to if it will make it more proper’.

Lily lets out a laugh before she stops herself, biting her lips, worried. She shouldn’t laugh; though she can disguise her voice mildly well, her laugh is too thin, too sparkling. It’s not a man’s grave laugh.

Fortunately, the captain doesn’t seem to find anything amiss. He looks just… glad with her reaction.

‘So you are capable of laughing’, he notes teasingly. ‘I had my doubts, you know’.

‘There has never been an occasion, Cap — James ’.

He opens his mouth in an offended expression; it’s so dramatic that, again, she wants to laugh. ‘I beg your pardon? Yesterday, when someone — a very clever someone, I might add — pretended to be shot by an arrow? That was an occasion!’

‘Wasn’t that you?’, she asks, raising her eyebrows. It had been a long tense one minute in which one of the other soldiers, Sirius, had been sure he had shot by mistake the captain and his best friend before James had revealed himself alive, laughing hysterically and showing the fake arrow attached to his badge.

Sirius had punched him, all rank forgotten, but then he was laughing too and everyone thought it was hilarious.

‘It was fun ’.

‘It was terrifying’.

‘Oh, so you were terrified I’d died?’, he jokes, his grin now very smug. ‘And I thought you didn’t like me’.

Lily blushes, lowering her head and hoping he hadn’t noticed it. Truth was she had misjudged him on the first day, annoyed by the way he acted with that captain badge pinned on his chest. He came from a long family of militars, after all, and he was very young, no matter what his father would praise about his grades in military school, so she had truly believed he didn’t deserve to be a captain, that he had only got there for his family name.

In the last few weeks, though, she was forced to admit he was a good captain. He had the vision for it, good ideas, an efficient way of training everyone and, of course, he was a leader.

‘I have nothing against you, sir — James’.

‘I’m glad to know’, he says, sounding earnest. ‘I am worried about you, you know’.

‘Have I done something wrong?’, she asks, surprised, fear involving her again. Lily had taken care of doing all exercises, overworking herself, all to prove that that stupid rule that forbid women in the army did not make any sense. They needed everyone in the fight against Voldemort, after all, and she would not wait patiently, especially when people like her were one of his targets.

‘No, no, you’ve been perfect, really, no one dedicates as much as you’, he assures her. ‘But you don’t socialize. You stay quiet during dinner. You don’t participate in any of the games', he pauses, before adding again dramatically: 'You don’t laugh at my pranks!’

All of it is true. Lily has purposefully gotten away from everyone, afraid they would notice something different about her, though that quiet soldier, Remus, had tried to talk to her. She just feels she can't risk.

‘I do not think it’s time for pranks, James’, she answers, deciding the last point was probably the easiest.

He shakes his head. ‘We are at war, Evans. If we don’t laugh now, we may not laugh after’.

She supposes he is right. And even though he enjoys more pranks than she thinks it’s reasonable, she knows he worries too. More than once, when she is on guard duty, she has noticed the light of his tent is on very late in the night. James may look carefree with everyone else, but he has concerns about the war — and what lies in his shoulder.

‘Your work has been impeccable’, he adds quietly. ‘I just want you to get to know more of your colleagues and for them to know more about you’. Lily presses her lips, hoping her worry doesn’t show on her face. That was all she was trying to avoid. ‘You will need to count on them in the battlefield and they will need to know you have their backs too. And the only way to do that is if we trust each other. Can we do that?’

James is waiting for her answer, his eyes boring into hers firmly, and Lily can’t turn away now. In the light of the morning, with the sun shining on his face, his hazel eyes seem to glint in gold, the pupil barely visible. He has wrinkles on the side of his eyes, and she suddenly wishes they weren’t meeting in the army while she is pretending to be an introverted thin young man.

He seems the kind of guy she would like to meet in college, or to grow up together with, or even in a dancing club with her friends; they would talk and she could be then fully herself, could share with him her witty side and even help him in a prank or two. In that other life she would appreciate how nice and beautiful he is, with that black hair that’s always messy no matter how much he tries to comb, and those hazel eyes that were made for laughing, not to be worried for the war.

But that’s not her life and she is sure that if he ever finds out about her, he will hate her. Somehow, with how much she has learned to admire him in the last weeks, she fears his rejection more than she fears being expelled from the army.

Lily knows she would trust James Potter with her life, knows she would do her duty and die for him if it was needed, and yet she also knows she can't ever tell him  her secret.

So she does what she has been doing best ever since she joined the army.

‘We can trust each other’, she lies.

He beams. ‘Great, Evans! And I thought we could start sharing your mourning runs’. He raises one eyebrow when she looks surprised. ‘I’ve noticed you awake at dawn to run’.

‘I like to train’, she admits. ‘I am… thinner than the others, so I am trying to get fitter’.

‘You look a lot better’, he compliments, touching her arm, where her biceps have been evolving nicely. It’s a pat, a soft brush, and yet it sends shivers down Lily’s spine; his hand is warm . ‘Mind if I join you?’

She hesitates just a little. ‘I will stay quiet’, she warns him. ‘I like to think while I run’.

‘Works for me. And if you want to share a thought or another, well, I’m here, Evans’.

He winks at her, again so friendly that she turns her eyes away, wishing she could tell him the truth. But she can’t, so she presses her lips, ties the ribbon around her hair so the bun stays in place, and kneels to make sure her shoes are tied. Then she raises and her heart stops for a full second.

James has taken out his shirt. She knows he is fit — there is no way he can’t be with all the years of training he had — and she has seen before shirtless, but only when she was far away in the line, hoping to get unnoticed as she trained the movements.

Now, it’s only him, his tanned skin glistening under the morning sun, a god coming out of her dreams. She is staring and she knows it, but there is no way she can avoid it; weeks at the army have made her lost a lot of discomfourt around men's body, but this... This doesn't seem fair.

She watches the muscles in his arms, his biceps far more evident than hers will ever be, and it suddenly occurs to Lily that she would like very much to feel them around her, involving her, holding her. There would be only benefits in hugging him, she realizes, as her eyes move to his torso, enjoying the firmness of his chest and the muscles in his abdomen, a six pack that seems drawn perfectly. In his arms, she would glide her hand through his chest, would place a kiss over his heart and then she would raise her head and they would be so close —

And then James stretches his arms, raising them above his head, and she notices the hair on his torso, a few patches near his chest that shine with a few drops of sweat she wouldn’t mind drying, and then the darked patch over his abdomen, in a path that goes on vanishing inside…

When she finds herself staring at his pants, Lily decides she has crossed more limits that it's reasonable.

She turns, all her concentration in avoiding glancing at him again, though she feels it's fruitless. The sight of him seems to be recorded in her mind. He will appear on her dream, she is sure of it.

‘Everything all right, Evans?’, he asks, right behind her, and she jumps. 'You look red'.

Lily knows it; her face is hot, burning even before she has started to run, and she won’t fool herself pretending she doesn’t know the reason.

‘I'm fine, let’s go’, she answers quickly, heart racing in her chest. This was a horrible idea; mourning runs with her very gorgeous hot captain will do no good for her keeping her secret.

She sprints without warning, but he catches up with her easily. She keeps her eyes ahead. Don't look, don't stare, don't ogle.

‘There is something special about you, Evans’, he declares, the run not seeming to disturb his breathing. ‘I will find out one day’.