#which again we are living through right now

[evie-sturns]

first date - Matt Sturniolo

summary: after a perfect first date with matt, the last thing you expected is for him to make such a big move after he drives you home, you definitely aren't complaining after though,

contains: fluff, an intense makeout session, shy!matt (to an extent) swearing.

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tonight had just been perfect,

i met matt at a party last week, and i couldn’t say no to his somewhat amusingly awkward self as he asked for my number.

he was just my type, his loose brown waves draped over his forehead, his earrings catching the light from the party and sparkling, and his shy demeanour.

he messaged me a day ago, asking if i wanted to go out for dinner with him, which i obviously agreed to.

10:21pm

i shivered in the cool air of the night, smiling up at matt as he ordered you both an ice-cream cone,

“you cold?” matt asks softly, i nod as i sink my top teeth into my bottom lip as a weak attempt to stop the chattering of my teeth.

“a little bit,” i laugh,

matt instantly takes off his jacket and drapes it over my shoulders,

“why didn’t you bring a coat? it’s like the middle of december.” he scoffs, nudging my elbow slightly.

“shuuush, i didn’t know you’d take me out for icecream at like- midnight!” i throw my hands up defensively,

“righhttt.” he grins down at me.

-

the night was coming to a close as you jumped into the passenger seat of matt’s car, clutching an icecream cone in your hand as you fiddled with the seatbelt.

“you okay?” he asks, starting up the car.

“yeah- i’m still cold though.” i roll my eyes playfully, matt instantly reaches out and fiddles with the heating, cranking it up.

“wait what the fuck- since when did i have the option to have heated seats!” he exclaims, his jaw slack as he pushes the button.

“ew matt! my butts warm now.” i groan, instantly turning off the button.

matt laughs loudly as he pulls out of the parking lot, staring the drive home.

i look over at him a couple times, his ringed fingers gripping the steering wheel catching my eye.

i’m definitely staring now.

his hands were perfect, he was perfect. i genuinely did not catch one wrong thing about him from the date.

he was shy, but the right amount of shy, i could tell he was starting to get more comfortable around me, which i liked.

matt pulls onto the highway, the car roaring as he accelerates.

i continue to work at my icecream cone, trying to stop the massive staring problem i’ve picked up.

matt’s playlist plays through the car, his knee bobbing up and down as he listens to it.

“you live down here right?” matt asks, pulling off the highway into a small neighbourhood.

“you remembered!” i grin,

“of course i did.” he speaks back, his tone light hearted.

“i’m just down here.” i say, pointing to a street sign.

he pulls into the street, his car slowing down as he scans the row of houses.

he parks the car in front of my house. swallowing lightly as he turns off the car.

“thank you- so much for tonight matt.” i say, my tongue darting out to lick my lips,

“yeah- yeah no problem..” he whispers,

“we should do it again soon.” i speak, matt nods.

“i’ll text you, okay?” he says, a nervous smile on his face.

“okay- yeah.” i grin, a undeniable tension building in the car…

i grab my purse and reach for the door, but matt clears his throat.

i look over my shoulder at him, he looks nervous as shit.

he reaches up and cups my jaw, the cold metal of his rings pressing against my flushed cheek.

he leans over the centre console and presses a kiss to my lips.

he pulls away pretty quickly, knowing this is the first date and we shouldn’t do any more… right?

but for some reason, the feeling of his lips on mine linger.

i stare at his lips, not moving.

i need more.

i know i’m going to have to initiate something, knowing he’s to shy to make a lot of moves.

“can- can we do that again?” i speak, my voice hoarse as i break the silence.

he nods instantly, his hands clenching by his sides.

i lean back over the centre console, grabbing his chin as i press my lips to his again.

my face heats up instantly, pure ecstasy flooding through my body.

he deepens the kiss, his head tilting to the side as our noses brush.

goosebumps cover my arms as his tongue slides over my lip, practically begging for entry.

i don’t know what comes over me, but in a matter of seconds i’m climbing over the seats,

i sit down on matt’s lap, straddling him as i break the kiss.

he stares up at me, his eyes wide and full of need.

he grabs the back of my head, instantly reconnecting our lips.

“fuck..” he whimpers against my lips,

i feel a familiar heat growing between my thighs, my skirt riding up my legs as i practically devour him with my lips.

he just tastes so, so good.

his hands paw at my waist, grabbing the fabric of my thin shirt as he holds me.

i subconsciously rock my hips against his thigh.

he gasps against my lips as i grind against his clothed thigh.

“oh my god..” i whisper against his lips as i pathetically rub myself against his leg.

i feel myself getting too into it, not wanting to rush him on the first date.

i break the kiss, the windows now foggy.

he looks up at me with pure desperation.

god he looks hot.

his lips are smeared with my red lipstick, the pigment messily coating his chin. his eyes are narrow and hungry, and his hands are gripping my waist, tight.

i reach up and wipe his lips, trying to remove the lipstick stains.

“i’ll- i’ll uh- okay- um-“ matt stammers,

“i’ll- i’ll text you.” he croaks out, his hands sinking into my waist.

“okay- okay.” i breathe,

i quickly crawl back over the centre console and grab my purse.

i look back at matt over my shoulder, his lips are puffy and red.

his hair is dishevelled, and as my eyes travel down his body.

he is most definitely hard.

i grin at him before swinging open the car door,

“b-bye- bye!” he calls out shakily,

“bye matt-!” i smile as i step out onto the footpath, shutting the car door behind me.

i jog up to my house, my heels clicking on the driveway.

i swing open my front door and suck in a well needed deep breath.

i walk over to my couch, and before i even have the time to sit down my phone vibrates frantically in my pocket.

5 new messages from - Matt

my eyes scan over the messages, which read.

“come back to the car”

“i seriously need you right now this isn’t funny”

“please”

“i’m still parked outside please”

“i’ll literally do anything.”

and before i know it, i’m rushing for my front door and running down the driveway towards matt’s car.

——-

@sturnsdoll @obvisturns @stupid4sturniolo @meerkatzthings @witchofthehour @rosalierenee43 @gabrielle-brun1 @ilovemymannnnnnnn @sturnioloxlver @buckys-goodgirl @sturniol0s @ilovemymannnnnnn n @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow w @mattfangirl girl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle e @h3arts4harry @jamiesturniolo o @chrisstopherfilmed @ @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees @certifiednatelover er @solarsturniolo larsturniolo lo @mattsenthusiast t @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette e @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @bitchydragonparadise @sturni0l0tripletzz @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @mattsonlybitch @justalittle47 @sunsetsturniolos @sturniolo04 @similartokayyz @sturnsintrouble @ilovemattsturn @raysmayhem-72 @75sturn @sturniol0s @secret-sturniolo @hfkeclnendmwodne @sturniolosass @gxldenlush @stonermattsgf @101saroona a @beccaluvschris @oliviasturniolo21 1 @imwetforyourmom @tylerstacobell @sunsetsturniolos @aliceloveschris @jayz4dayz 4 @sassysturniolo2008 @nyktoxs-lover r @nathandoesgf @starsturns234 @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 @sturnthepot @zayyluvz @realuvrrr @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs @riowritesitall john @raysmayhem-72

[writtenbykimiko]

jungwon has a habit of leaving his bags around your shared apartment after he comes home from practice. and he doesn't even realize that he drops his bag as soon as he walks through the door because of his intense exhaustion.

sometimes you don't notice his bags and trip over them. which pisses you off so much. but you try to keep giving jungwon chances because...well he's jungwon. (he's such a cutie patootie).

today, you woke up not in the mood. the sun was beaming on your face which caused you to wake up, jungwon not being beside you, the loud honks and beeps of the city life outside, the time being 7 in the morning (which made you upset, because you wanted to sleep in since you didn't have work), and you were starving.

you slowly get up with a obnoxious groan. you stumbled to the door of your shared bedroom. unfortunately, luck was not on your side this morning (obviously). you tripped over what seemed like jungwon's bag. now you're furious (oh shucks). you stand up slowly still a little drowsy. you kick the bag furiously as if it did something to you (sensitive much?).

walking down the hall to the living room searching for jungwon, you came across him watching a movie while sitting on the sofa looking like a little bean with a big dazzling smile on his face. (my descriptions are so weird lmao)

he analyzes your facial expression, and his smile dropped.

"you okay love?" jungwon said while pausing the movie he was watching.

"i am so done with you leaving your bags all over the place! its almost like a daily occurrence that i trip on your bags! can you stop being so careless and messy?!" you exclaimed while walking towards him and stopping in front of him.

jungwon was stunned. this was the first time you ever raised your voice at him. he was shocked but somehow finally took in the state you were in. you looked so cute with your messy hair and your adorable kitten pajama's. he wanted to be serious and talk it out with you, but the way you looked at that moment. he just wanted to smother you in kisses. (^ V ^)

"my love, i'm not trying to be rude but you just look so cute right now." he said while laughing

jungwon pulled you by the wrist gently, and you fall onto his lap. you out of habit make yourself comfortable on his lap. your legs resting on both sides of his thighs while he intertwines your hands together. he stares into your eyes with admiration. you stare back at him as your eyes soften.

one of your favorite things about jungwon was how you always got lost in his boba-like eyes. it was like a black hole that just sucks you in. you completely zone out forgetting what you were upset about.

you almost didn't realize he was leaning in to kiss your lips. before you can even snap yourself back into reality. his lips do it for you. you automatically kiss him back like it was muscle memory. you let go of his hands to put one of them on his shoulder and the other on the back of his neck.

welp now you're cooked buddy. because how the hell are you going to express your anger to jungwon when he has you literary wrapped around his finger. you already forgot what upset you, you'd rather not talk about it again after this passionate ass kiss. now you just want to cuddle. (damn, ain't no backing out now). after jungwon pulls back, he casually asks you with a little smirk.

"im sorry my love. i know you have told me multiple times to stop leaving my bags around. but i can't help it. after work, i just want to cuddle you and just be in your arms for the rest of my days. i don't try to do it on purpose. i'll do better, i pinky promise." jungwon wholeheartedly confessed.

well damn. what are you supposed to do now. you wanted to stand your ground and not give in (because you know how whipped you are). you wanted to at least be a little petty so you can prove your point, but we all know you don't have the balls to do so.

he's just a little guy who's exhausted from working hours on end. you understand the feeling of being so tired after work, you just want to rest and drop all the weight from your body onto the floor (so real).

you grinned while shamelessly looking at him. you regrated for how you acted towards him. jungwon being the sweetie pie he is, he almost immediately recognizes the regret in your eyes. he hugged you tightly expressing that it's okay. you hugged him back as your smile grew wider. you felt so much better after receiving jungwon's reassurance.

(why was i so fucking jolly writing this...i need to lock in and get a life.)

[unsolicited-opinions]

Ahmed Fouad Alkhatib writes on Twitter about Secretary Blinken's NYT interview:

The "pro-Palestine" movement's role in prolonging the war on Gaza: Though many are angry with Secretary Blinken’s responses during his interview with the New York Times about Gaza, some of the points he shared are absolutely salient and accurate. I have said this time and again and received immense backlash for doing so: Hamas’s war strategy, statements, behavior, and goals regularly shift and oscillate based on international public opinion, the actions of the “pro-Palestine” solidarity movement, and political statements by world governments, leaders, and institutions against Israel’s war. To be clear, I’m not in any capacity saying I endorse the horrendous war that Israel’s been waging on Gaza, killing a large number of civilians (including my family) and failing to achieve strategic and lasting results 15 months later. However, Hamas refused to engage in pragmatic negotiations to end the war it started, pulled back several times from closing a ceasefire/hostage deal, and thought that mass civilian casualties would delegitimize Israel and force it to end the war. Many are uncomfortable with Secretary Blinken’s remarks because he shed light on the reality that “pro-Palestine” rhetoric and pressure on Israel has inevitably or perhaps indirectly resulted in a strengthening of Hamas’s position and the overall worsening of the situation for Palestinians in Gaza. I have said time and again that even if folks wanted to attack and criticize Israeli actions, they should call upon the Islamist group to release hostages and negotiate and off-ramp from the war to implement political transformation. Instead, the “pro-Palestine” and international solidarity movements completely ignored Hamas’s criminality against Palestinians and Israelis alike while failing to promote pragmatic, realistic pathways forward to save the most Palestinian lives and make it clear that Hamas’s actions are unpopular, unsupported, and condemned. Secretary Blinken is right on the money with his remarks. The “pro-Palestine” movements across the world after October 7 bear a significant responsibility for prolonging this war and directly contributing to the massive suffering of Palestinians in the coastal enclave. This dereliction of duty delegitimizes almost the entirety of the premise upon which current “pro-Palestine” activism is built. Take a step back and never, ever speak for, over, or on behalf of the Palestinian people!

Haviv Rettig Gur says he agrees:

I agree with Ahmed. We might assess the war differently, but we assess the future the same. When the dust settles, when the rebuilding begins, the old truths everyone likes to ignore will reassert themselves. We'll be back at square one, with the same problem as before. Israel can't rule the Palestinians for all time, nor can the war ever end as long as Palestinian ideological factions like Hamas consistently undermine every attempt at peace-making. Anyone who doesn't understand how catastrophic Hamas has been to the Palestinian cause is of no use to the Palestinian cause. 90% of Israeli Jews now tell pollsters that the fundamental impulse of the Palestinian national movement is to annihilate them. Imagine for a moment that I personally would like to see Palestinian independence in my lifetime. What am I supposed to do with the reality that that statistic describes? How do I urge my fellow Israelis to once again ante up in a game that they have learned from repeated bitter failure - and from Hamas's own consistent rhetoric - is meant to bring about their destruction? And Hamas did that. It was Hamas (with some help from Arafat) that convinced even most progressive Israelis, through explicit word and endless bloody deeds, that withdrawal or compromise would only bring more bloodshed. As long as Israeli Jews believe that, believe what Hamas tells them, they will remain immune to the moral emotions of foreigners. This is the profound folly at the heart of the pro-Palestinian movement. It wants to pressure Israelis to withdraw while Hamas tells Israelis that it will come for their kids from any inch of land they abandon. The pro-Palestinian movement has not yet noticed that it and Hamas are sending Israelis opposite messages, making opposite demands, and so canceling each other out in the Israeli psyche. And it is Palestinians, always Palestinians, who are the first and greatest victims of this folly. Even their defenders are mostly just corralling them into that same old trap. If you can't separate the Palestinian cause from Hamas's cause, or, indeed, if you share Hamas's yearning to see us destroyed, then you're no defender of Palestine. You are one of its destroyers.

[robynhoodwrites]

˚｡❆ Rivals to Lovers ˚｡❆

Request: "Can I request a rivals to lovers fic (with smut if you will) about Zayne and MC where they live in a normal world, and they're both in med school?"

This will be written from the reader (aka the MC's) point of view. The MC will be AFAB, but will be referred to with they/them pronouns.

Minors DNI! This writing contains the following: smut, vaginal penetration, medical discussions, blood (in a medical setting), rivals to lovers, semi-public sex, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, fellatio, switch!Zayne and switch!reader.

My heels clack loudly against the clean, tiled floors of the hospital. The sound echoes down the hallway, and I cringe internally at the fact that I’m practically announcing my presence. I hear a yawn sound from one of the receptionists behind me, hoping that the coffee now coursing through me is enough to keep me awake.

“Morning!” One of the nurses, Tara, smiles at me. She stops where she’s walking, seemingly trying to start a conversation.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t have time right now!” I breathe, my heart pounding as I pick up the pace. She frowns slightly, her chest deflating. “We can meet for lunch later! Promise!” I yell behind me, and she just laughs and continues walking to where she’s going.

This meeting isn’t necessarily important, but I haven’t earned the title “overachiever” for nothing. If I make it earlier than everyone else, it shows initiative. And initiative means I’m better than the others, which means I get the internship, which means I get a good job in the future, which means-

I’m almost at the door when I notice Zayne across the hallway. We had been in the same medical program for the last year, but only recently has he become such a pain in my ass. It seemed like no matter what grade I got, he matched it (or, God forbid, his was higher). It had become somewhat of an unspoken competition between us to see who would end up on top.

He seems to notice me, his eyes meeting mine from the other side of the hall. He looks at the door and then back at me before speeding up, his eyes now sporting a determined glare. I do the same, the clacking of my heels reaching insane speeds.

Even with the newfound speed, I am nowhere as fast as Zayne. Screw these stupid heels and Zayne’s long ass legs. I’m right behind him when he throws open the door, letting it start to close behind him as he enters the conference room before me.

“Wow, what a gentleman,” I mutter, and he seems to hear me, chuckling to himself.

“Zayne, nice to see you here bright and early,” our boss, Dr. Jenna says. Her eyes then flick to me, smiling. “Oh, and good to see you here early, too. You two have some real initiative.”

I silently thank the universe that coming in second has not put a blot on my record. It’s then that Zayne puts down his backpack, producing a coffee from the cupholder sewn to the side of it. “You like the cold brew, right?” he asks, handing her the coffee.

“Aw, Zayne, you shouldn’t have!” Jenna smiles, grabbing the drink from his hand and taking a sip with a content look on her face. Fuck, that’s genius. Why didn’t I think of that?

“Of course, Doctor Jenna. I cannot imagine how tired you must be, considering the fact that you’re working and taking the time to teach us. I don’t know how you do it,” Zayne gushes, and Jenna just smiles wider and thanks him before going back to writing on the whiteboard.

Zayne turns back to where I am standing, a stupid smirk lining his face. He sticks up two hands, one making the shape of a “zero” and the other creating a “one”.

Zayne: 1. Me: 0.

He winks as he goes to sit in his spot in the front row. Other students finally begin filing in, and I rush to take my spot in the front next to Zayne. “Really laying it on thick, huh?” I mutter, and he chuckles again.

“Maybe if you did the same, you wouldn’t be losing,” he whispers back, reclining in his chair nonchalantly.

“I don’t need to kiss ass. My superior doctoring skills will get me that internship,” I tease, mockingly reclining like him. He shows no sign that he’s noticed, instead deciding to unpack his notebook and pencil from his backpack.

“The points are saying otherwise,” he responds, opening his notebook to a fresh page. He writes down our names at the top of the page, putting a tally mark next to his own.

“That’s what this is to you? A game?” I ask, huffing out a breath of frustration. “There are 5 spots for the internship. We can both get it! There’s no need to fight me for it.” I am thoroughly enjoying the competition, but it’s not as fun when I’m the one that’s losing.

“I am not going to settle for mediocrity. I want to get chosen for the internship not just because she wants me there, but because she needs me there,” he tells me, stating it like it’s a fact. I suppose I understand that, but I am never going to let him hear me admit that.

“Where did this vanity come from, Zayne? I swear, you seemed so docile when I met you last year,” I tease. Rather than answer me, he looks down at the paper in front of him. “Or do you only act vain when you’re threatened? Am I a threat to you, Zayne?”

He doesn't respond. In fact, he acts like he hasn't heard me. Instead, he sticks out his hand, seeming to be asking for a handshake. “May the best doctor win,” he says confidently, and I grasp his hand firmly. It’s strangely warm, his long fingers holding my own tightly.

“I will,” I say back, letting go of his hand and turning to face the board. Before he can say something in retaliation, Doctor Jenna clears her throat and the class goes silent.

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By the last 10 minutes of class, I’ve nearly filled three pages with notes, front and back. The notes are nowhere near clean or pretty looking, but they’ll work for when I’m studying later. Dr. Jenna has started reviewing some of the information from the last class, which means I can zone out for a moment and let my brain take a break.

I spin my pen in my fingers, my eyes blurred as I think about absolutely nothing for the first time in a while. The peace doesn’t last, though. I hear a small rustle in front of me and look down to see a folded sheet of notebook paper.

I turn to look at Zayne, the most likely suspect. However, he’s looking straight ahead at the board in a focused manner, his eyes not meeting mine. I look back down at the paper curiously, finally relenting and unfolding it in front of me.

The paper has a messy stick figure drawing on the top, showing a tall man with dark hair and glasses holding a trophy. It’s nowhere near artist quality, but something about it makes me chuckle. I glance over at Zayne, who can’t help the smile now spreading across his face.

I click open my pen, drawing my own stick figure masterpiece under his. I surround his drawing with a thought bubble before drawing a picture of Zayne sleeping soundly underneath. Under his sleeping stick figure, I write “In your dreams!” before folding the paper neatly and handing it back to him.

He hesitates for a moment, waiting until Jenna’s back is turned before carefully unfolding the drawing. He snorts, covering his mouth with his hand quickly. I just keep looking forward at the whiteboard, listening to him hastily scribble on the paper before sliding it back to me.

I roll my eyes, unfolding the paper yet again. Zayne’s familiar, neat writing lines the page underneath my drawing. “You’re one to talk about dreams. What are you daydreaming about over there while Dr. Jenna teaches?”

He noticed that?  I feel a weird flutter in my chest, but I push it down as I write my own message underneath his. “Just plotting my victory,” I write, checking to make sure Jenna’s back is turned before handing it to him.

A moment passes before the note lands back on my desk, the paper filled with more of Zayne’s neat, looping letters. “If you spend all class thinking about how to beat me, you’ll never pass your tests.”

I write back quickly, my messy scrawl in stark contrast to Zayne’s clear writing. “And if you spend all class staring at me, you’ll never get the internship.” I pass the note back to Zayne, keeping my eyes glued to the board as he takes in a sharp breath. He hesitates, slowly writing his next response before going to pass it back to me.

“Zayne, no passing notes in class. Put it away,” Jenna snaps, and I see Zayne’s face go pale. He crumples up the note, throwing it into his backpack. He mutters an apology under his breath, his pale face now growing a deep shade of red.

“Yeah, Zayne, I’m trying to learn,” I say, loud enough for Jenna to hear. She nods, throwing Zayne another sharp look before turning back to the board. Zayne shoots me a glare, his jaw clenched in annoyance. I wink at him, before shooting a quick glance at the board to see if Jenna is looking.

When her back is turned, I lean in closer to him, delighting in the quick breath he sucks in. I bring my pen to the top of his paper, adding a point under my name. “One to one,” I whisper, before leaning back and letting my focus return to the board.

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I yawn as I put some quarters into the vending machine, watching as it shoots an energy drink down towards the bottom. I grab it, quickly opening it and gulping down as much as I can. It was nearly the end of my shift, and a long day of shadowing doctors has left an ache in my feet and a pain in my back. I can’t wait to go home and sleep…

“Hey,” I hear a familiar voice say from behind me, and I turn to see Zayne standing impatiently behind me. I gulp, pulling the energy drink away from my mouth and thinking of what to say to the intimidating man in front of me.

 In class, he is just like any other student. But, when working in the clinic, he’s… different. His lab coat perfectly frames his tall figure, his glasses sitting on the edge of his nose. He’s always sitting when he's in class, but during clinic duty, he towers over me.

“Listen, I’m sorry for throwing you under the bus. I didn’t-” I begin, but he cuts me off.

“I’m not here about that. Well played, by the way,” he admits, and I feel that flutter in my chest again. “Jenna wants us in her office. Wants our opinion on something before we clock out.”

I nod, unable to stop a relieved breath from leaving my lungs. I chug down the rest of my energy drink, crushing the can in my hands before throwing it away. He chuckles and turns to walk towards the office. I follow close behind, not too keen on letting him beat me to something again.

When we finally reach the office, he pauses a moment before going in. Then, much to my surprise, he holds the door open for me. I just stare at him for a moment, trying to figure out what he could possibly gain from this.

“It’s not a trick,” he says reassuringly. “I just want to be a bit kind to you before I wipe the floor with you in this consult.” There it is. I stick out my tongue at him, not caring how childish I look. He shakes his head as I walk past him, muttering something about good sportsmanship.

Jenna is waiting for us in her office, a whiteboard standing on stilts in front of her as she chews on the end of her pen. When we enter, she turns to us with a smile on her face. A few more students pile in behind us and Jenna begins writing on the whiteboard.

“Alright, students. We had a patient come in with a hurt leg. She presents with hypersensitivity to touch as well as tendonitis and high calcium,” Jenna explains, writing the symptoms on the whiteboard in front of her. She pauses, turning back around to face us. “What do we do?”

“It could be an adenoma,” Zayne offers, and I curse myself for not being quick enough.

“That’s true, but it could be a multitude of things. Maybe kidney problems or a vitamin D intoxication?” I offer, and Jenna writes all of our suggestions down on the whiteboard.

“True, but I think the adenoma is still the best option. If not that, it could also be hyperthyroidism,” Zayne shoots back, and Jenna writes hyperthyroidism on the board. I begin to hit him with another response, but Jenna interrupts before I can.

“I believe an adenoma is the most likely cause. Good work, Dr. Zayne. What should we do with this information?” Jenna asks us, and I nearly punch Zayne when he speaks before I can.

“We’ll have to test her blood for PTH, phosphorus, and ionized calcium.”

“Very good, Zayne,” Jenna says, before turning to me. “And if those tests come back normal, we’ll start on your theory. Good work to you both,” she says, circling “adenoma” on the whiteboard. Zayne shoots me a sly smile, now holding up a two on one hand and a one on the other. I flip him off, and he chuckles to himself.

“Since the labs are closed for the night, they’ll have to process the blood in the morning. I’ll page you guys as soon as I get the results,” Jenna says, waving a hand to dismiss us. “Get some rest, and I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow.”

We all file out of the office, and I pause in the hallway for a moment. If I test the blood tonight, it will get her the results faster. And, more importantly, it will make me look amazing…

I turn down the hallway, my heels clacking against the tiled floors once again as I quickly make my way down to the lab. I scan my card against the door, sighing in relief when I notice that the lab is empty. I throw my backpack down on a chair, hurrying to the refrigerator at the back of the room and quickly scanning for the right vial.

The door swings open behind me, somebody else rushing in before pausing in shock. “Shit!” The voice mutters, and I turn to find Zayne in front of me, his eyes narrowed. “I should’ve known you would have the same idea,” he seethes, and I smile at the annoyed look on his face. He throws his backpack down, his notebook and a few papers spilling out onto the ground as he moves closer to me.

“You may have had the same idea, but I came up with it first,” I tell him, clutching the vial of blood in my hands. I turn and close the door to the fridge and when I turn back around, Zayne is much closer than before. I attempt to move away, but he blocks me in with his arms.

“Give me the vial,” he practically orders, and I can’t help but scoff at him.

“Wow, you really are a sore loser. Whatever happened to ‘may the best doctor win’?” I ask, and he doesn’t react. Rather than relent, he just sits there with his arms trapping me against the refrigerator. “Zayne?” I ask, now breathing a bit heavily under the man's piercing gaze.

In a moment of courage I did not know I possessed, I lean forward on my tiptoes until my mouth is next to his ear. “You lost this round. Let it go,” I whisper, and I swear he isn’t breathing as I lower myself back to my original position. He stays for a moment longer before finally letting his arms fall to rest at his sides.

I exhale a breath that I didn’t know I was holding, finally relaxing my tense shoulders. Zayne walks over to one of the counters, quickly putting on gloves before walking over to the machine sitting in the corner.

“Zayne, what are you doing?” I ask, and he doesn’t look up as he begins removing tools from the drawer next to him.

“Oh, just cleaning the centrifuge. It’s been a while since anyone has really given it a good scrub down.”

I pause, biting the inside of my cheek to keep myself from cursing him out. “Zayne, that’s the machine I need to use,” I say through gritted teeth. Zayne looks up at me from where he is disassembling the machine, false shock covering his face.

“Oh, is it? What a shame. Looks like you’ll have to do those tests tomorrow, instead.” He goes back to disassembling the centrifuge, a small (and annoying) smile now spreading across his face.

“You absolutely childish-” I begin, stopping to take a breath before I say something worse. I let out a sigh, rubbing my temples as I let my temper cool. “We’ll do the tests together. Share the credit. Is that good enough for you?” I groan, and he stops what he’s doing to face me.

“That’s an incredible idea. Can’t believe I didn’t think of it,” he says mockingly, and I nearly spit on him out of anger. This manipulative, conniving… He starts putting the machine back together, and I walk over to where he is standing to put the vial on a stand next to him.

“This is so incredibly unfair,” I whine, and he chuckles to himself. He turns to face me yet again, his eyes staring daggers into me from only inches away.

“You started this when you threw me under the bus in class, you know.” I suppose I deserve that. He finishes reassembling the machine, putting the vial in and pressing a button on the front. The centrifuge starts with a beep, and the blood begins spinning in its vial.

 I don’t say anything, moving away from him to grab some supplies from the cabinet above me. My attempt to reach the pipettes on the top shelf is in vain, and I stand on my tiptoes as I try to reach it. I hop slightly, barely reaching the corner of the box and coming back down empty-handed.

Zayne moves next to me, reaching up with ease and grabbing the box. He grabs a pipette and returns the box, holding the pipette out in his hands for me to take. Before I can touch it, he grabs my wrist tightly. I gasp, and he drops my arm almost instantly. Damn… wait, why did I enjoy that?  I push these strange feelings down, instead looking up at him inquisitively.

“Gloves,” he explains, and I curse under my breath. “You’ve been in this program for two years, yet you forget something as simple as gloves.”

“I was a bit distracted, Zayne. It’s not every day I am cornered in the lab by another doctor,” I say, and he smiles as he throws me a box of gloves.

“If I don’t keep you on your toes, then this competition will be boring. If I’m going to win so easily, I might as well have a bit of fun.” He turns back to the centrifuge, which has now stopped spinning.

“Prick,” I mutter, and he chuckles as he pulls the vial from the machine. He hands me the vial and the pipette before grabbing the microscope down from the cabinets above us. I carefully pipe out a few drops of blood before handing him the vial to put in the next machine.

I drop the blood onto a slide, placing it under the microscope before peering into it. I start to adjust the settings, the blood coming into focus as I turn each knob. I feel warm breath on my neck and flinch slightly at the sudden intrusion. I didn’t even hear him walk over here.

“Well?” He asks, his voice soft as his breath continues to dance across the skin of my neck. I don’t respond, the fluttering in my chest getting worse. Any attempt to pay attention to the blood in front of me is abandoned, my attention instead drawn to the warm presence looming behind me.

“Let me look,” he mutters, and I move out of the way quickly to let him peer into the microscope. I exhale a shaky breath, steadying myself against the counter. Why did that affect me the way that it did?

Zayne hums under his breath, moving the dials on the side of the microscope with intense focus. “Grab me my notebook, will you?” He asks, and I mutter something about not being his servant before turning around and doing exactly what he asked.

His backpack, having been thrown in his rush to beat me, is lying on the floor. His notebook is on the ground, as well as several papers that had come flying out during the landing. I bend down to pick them all up, my eyes catching on a crumpled ball of paper lying near his notebook. Is that…?

I quickly unravel the paper ball, staring blankly as I realize what it is. Our notes from class. My eyes scan over the paper, smiling to myself as I think about my victory over him in that class period. My eyes reach the bottom of the paper, realizing that I never got to read the final thing he wrote to me.

“And if you spend all class staring at me, you’ll never get the internship,” my messy writing reads. His beautiful, loopy letters are lined underneath it, and I gasp as I finally process the words.

“How could I not spend the class staring at you? You’re so beautiful when you’re lost in thought.”

That now-familiar fluttering returns to my chest, this time with a thundering rhythm. I somehow feel both excited and nauseous at the same time, my head swirling with so many emotions. I definitely like him, don’t I?

I gulp down some air before picking up his notebook, letting our notes sit on the top as I walk nervously over to where he is standing. His eyes are still on the blood, but he lifts his head as he hears me approaching. I hand him the notebook, our notes being the first thing he sees as he looks down.

He pauses, his breath seemingly caught in his throat. “You think I’m beautiful?” I ask, and he looks back up to me with wide eyes. “Or are you just saying that to ‘keep me on my toes’?” I ask, and he pauses for a moment before responding.

“I wouldn’t lie about something like that.” I feel a warmth spread across my cheeks, and I pray that I’m not blushing as much as I think I am. I push the notebook into his arms, not saying anything as I turn back to the microscope.

I attempt to keep my focus on the task at hand, trying to ignore the rampant pounding of my heart. Zayne drops the notebook onto the table next to us, his breath now resuming its place on the back of my neck. I can’t help but lean into his warmth, and he puts his arms on either side of me to rest on the counter.

“What do you see?” He asks, his voice husky in my ear. I try to focus, not wanting to let him know how much control he has over me. If he knows how affected I am, he’ll win. I inhale a shaky breath, bringing my eyes down to the blood in front of me.

“I-it looks… normal. To me, at least,” I mutter, and he moves back a bit so that I can turn around and face him. His sharp gaze never leaves my face, glancing slowly from my eyes to my lips.

“I noticed that, too. Looks like you might have been right,” he hisses, and despite the frown on his face, another emotion seems to glimmer in his eyes. The air between us is thick, his face mere inches from mine. His breath smells sweet, with light notes of peppermint dancing across it.

Heels clack, somebody quickly approaching from down the hallway, and Zayne quickly moves away from me as the door to the lab opens. Jenna enters, her eyes wide as she notes our presence in the room. Thanks for moving, Zayne.

“You two? I should’ve known you would be here. Such hard workers,” she praises, and I smile nervously as my blush grows deeper.

“Thank you, Doctor. We wanted to get a head start on that blood for the patient with the hurt leg,” Zayne tells her, and I nod along with him. Jenna nods, placing her purse down on the table by the door.

“I’m here for the same reason, actually. Any news?” She asks, seemingly unaware of the tense scene she had walked in on.

“We’re still waiting on one last test, but it appears that they were right. No adenoma,” Zayne admits, and I am floored by how easily he has admitted defeat. Jenna just nods in response, taking a sip out of her coffee mug before putting on some gloves of her own.

“Great work, you two. I’ll wait for that last test. Go home and get some rest,” she tells us, and Zayne opens his mouth to argue. “No, I insist. You guys don’t get paid for overtime, and I do. It’s better for everyone,” she winks, and Zayne concedes defeat. We grab our backpacks, thanking Jenna profusely as we leave the lab and enter the hallway.

Zayne doesn’t say a word as we walk down the hall, and I consider several different things I can say. “I win?” No, maybe “I told you so?” Or should I just leave it alone? I open my mouth to say something, but he grabs my wrist and pulls me into a dark room before I can begin.

“Zayne-” I begin, but he shushes me as locks the door behind him with a click. We are in one of the empty patient rooms, a clean and perfectly made bed sitting in the center of the room. He quickly shuts the curtains to the room, leaving only the small lamp in the corner to illuminate us.

I open my mouth to ask him what he’s doing, but he’s on me before I can get a single word out. His lips press against my own, almost hungry as bites my bottom lip. I can’t help but moan into his mouth, my lips moving aggressively against his as he pushes me against the door behind me.

One of his hands finds my hair, pulling slightly on my ponytail, which coaxes another moan from my mouth. His other hand finds the side of my face, pulling me even closer to him as his tongue sweeps across my bottom lip. I part my lips, letting him search my mouth with a ferocity I’ve never seen from him before.

I pull away for air, and he groans impatiently. “Zayne, where is this coming from?” I ask as he begins moving his lips down my face and onto my neck. A mewl escapes from my parted lips as he finds a particular spot in the crook of my neck, sucking on it roughly. “Zayne!” I say again, practically breathing out his name.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a while now,” he whispers in between his kisses on my neck. “I love how aggressive you get, and how competitive you are... And- fuck- the way you talk to me? So bratty,” he moans out the last word, nipping at my neck with his teeth. I let out a yelp, and he licks the bite apologetically.

He pauses, looking up at me from where he is kissing my neck. “This is okay, right?” He asks, his eyes almost pleading. I scoff, pushing his head back towards my neck.

“Better than okay, Zayne.”

He groans against me, kissing me once more on the neck before tearing the lab coat off of my shoulders. He takes his off as well, licking along the column of my neck as he throws it to the floor. Without warning, he puts his arms around my bottom and lifts me in the air. I gasp, and he walks us over to the hospital bed as he presses another aggressive kiss on my lips.

He lays me on the bed, hiking my skirt up until my entire lower half is exposed. My underwear is now soaked, and he seems to notice almost immediately. A grin spreads across his face as he feels me through my underwear, the friction of the fabric against my clit making me hiss in a breath.

“We’ve only just started, and you’re already so wet for me,” he murmurs, a hint of pride in his voice. I try to think of something snarky to say, but his finger feeling me through my underwear sends another jolt of pleasure through my body.

He chuckles darkly, pulling his hand away. I let out a whine of protest, but his hands move up to his neck as he begins to loosen his tie. I watch the tendons in his hands flex, the beauty of just this small part of him enough to captivate me. He notices me staring, slowing his movements as his long, dexterous fingers untie the knot around his neck.

“I want those in me so bad,” I admit, and he smirks as he finally takes off his tie. He begins unbuttoning his shirt, each release of a button showing me more and more of his toned torso. He doesn’t take the shirt all the way off, instead choosing to let his lay open against his chest.

“Your turn,” he mutters, eyeing my clothed chest with impatience. I take the hint, quickly moving my fingers to unbutton my shirt. I manage to get most of them unbuttoned, my bare breasts finally exposed to the cold hospital air. Before I can finish unbuttoning it, though, Zayne pounces.

His thumb finds my nipple, already peaked due to the chill of the hospital room. He tweaks the tip of my nipple, sending a shiver down my spine as I arch my chest up into him. “So eager,” he moans, doing the same to the other nipple.

He lowers his head, taking one of my nipples in his warm mouth as he kneads my other breast with his hand. I curse as his tongue circles my nipple, the pleasure rippling through my body in waves. I almost beg him to come back when he finally pulls away, but he moves too quickly for me to get a word out.

His thumb hooks on my soaked underwear, pulling it down my legs before throwing it in the pile of lab coats next to him. He pauses, slowly rolling up his sleeves as I lay utterly bare before him. The sight alone sends another wave of pleasure through me. His eyes never leave me, finally rolling up his sleeves to his elbows and exposing his toned forearms.

He bends down on the floor in front of me, gripping my legs and pulling me towards the edge of the bed. I yelp in surprise, attempting to close my legs. He forces them back open with ease, positioning himself in between my legs as he looks up at me.

“Say the word, and I’ll stop.”

“Don’t you dare.”

He smiles, lowering his head down until his warm breath is dancing across my exposed pussy. I shiver, and he finally licks up my vagina until he reaches my clit. I shudder out a breath as his tongue swirls circles around it, moving torturously slowly. He brings his hand up to where he is working, slowly pushing a finger in and letting it curl inside me.

“F-Fuck, Zayne,” I moan, my hand coming down to find his hair and grabbing tightly. He just moans in response, the vibration against my clit sending me reeling. He puts a second finger inside me, massaging my walls with delectable pressure. I pull harder on his hair, which only makes him thrust into me with more intensity.

“You’re doing such a good job,” he moans into me, before resuming the work of his tongue on my clit. I feel my orgasm finally begin to build, the tension in my lower half beginning to reach its peak.

“Zayne, please,” I mutter, but my pleas are not enough. He pulls away, leaving me feeling empty as the cold air hits my exposed cunt. “Z-Zayne,” I whine, and he just makes a tsk noise.

“So needy,” he tells me, and I whine again as I feel my orgasm start to retreat. I hear the clink of metal and watch as he begins to unbuckle his belt, pulling the leather from the loops of his belt and letting it fall to the floor. He quickly unbuttons his slacks, letting them hit the floor at his feet.

All that’s left are his boxers, the only thing keeping me from what I want. When he doesn’t take them off, I sit up and move to take them off myself, kneeling down on the ground in front of him. He just grabs my wrists, making that tsk noise yet again.

“Patience is one of the most important traits a doctor can have, you know,” he murmurs, taking a moment to rub his thumb over my swollen lips.

“Says the guy fucking me in a doctor's office instead of asking me on a date first,” I answer back, taking his thumb in my mouth and sucking on it teasingly. He rolls his eyes, but he can’t quite hide the hunger now sparkling in them.

He pulls down the boxers, stepping out of them and kicking them to the side impatiently. His length is now fully exposed, and I almost start to feel nauseous just from the idea of it going in me. “There’s no way,” I whine, and he seems to think this is hilarious.

He pushes the tip of his dick towards me until it is tapping against my lips, rubbing teasing circles until I finally take him in my mouth. I take in just the tip, letting my tongue catch the small dots of precum and swirling my tongue around teasingly. He twitches at each rotation, and I can’t help but smile onto his cock.

I start to move slowly down the shaft, but there is no way I am fitting it in its entirety down my throat. Instead, I bring my hands to the bit left over and massage it roughly, my head bobbing faster as his hands reach my ponytail.

“F-fuck,” he manages to groan, his hand grasping my ponytail tightly as he helps move me up and down his length. His movements get sloppier, his legs shaking as his release approaches faster and faster with each bob.

Before he can finish, I pull my mouth off of him with a sinful pop. I stand back up, staring directly into his eyes as he looks down at me. Sweat is dripping from his hair now, a few shivers still racking his body as he stands bare in front of me. His cock is throbbing, and I watch as his pleading eyes turn to pure lust.

He pushes me back onto the hospital bed, and as I turn to try and escape, he manages to catch me around the waist. My back is now to him, my ass pressed firmly against his rigid length behind me. I can’t help but moan, letting him tease me by grinding into my backside.

“Please,” he whispers, his lips touching my ear as he pleads into it. He pauses for a moment, biting down lightly on my earlobe. “I can’t wait any longer. I need to feel you now,” he mutters again, letting one of his hands move back to my clit.

I lift my head over my shoulder, managing to reach his lips with my own as I give him a small peck. He presses his finger down harder on my clit, and I let my head fall again as I grow weak from pleasure.

“Say it,” he pleads again, his finger rubbing circles on me with a delectable pressure. I struggle to find the words, breathless from his length still grinding against my backside.

“P-please, fuck me. Oh G-God,” I manage to mumble out, and he doesn’t wait a second longer before he bends me over. His dick finds my folds, rubbing against them teasingly before slowly sliding into me.

He starts with just the tip, easing in and out a few times before finally pushing himself in fully. I have to bite back the scream that threatens to escape from me, the sensation of suddenly being so full of him almost too much to handle.

His thighs slap against my ass as he thrusts in again, his fingers digging into my hips as he moves me on him. I can already feel his fingers leaving bruises on me, and I suddenly feel grateful that the lab coat covers so much of my body when I wear it.

One of his hands finds its way up to my ponytail, yanking back on it roughly and sending my face upwards. He groans again, using my hair to help him thrust in even deeper than before. His cock rams over and over again into my G-spot, the release in my stomach building more with every thrust.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, his hand leaving my hair and instead moving around my waist. It presses down on my stomach, making my walls even tighter around him. He shudders, his arms wrapping around me in something close to a hug as he continues pounding into me.

I’ve nearly reached my peak when he brings his hand back down towards my clit. Rubbing quick circles around it as he thrusts even faster. It hits me, nearly blindingly, and I feel my body start to spasm. My legs are shaking, my orgasm making me clench tighter around his cock.

He lets out a curse, nearly whimpering as he finally falls apart. His grip around me tightens as he finishes, shooting deep inside me and somehow filling me up even more. He continues thrusting, his cock now throbbing as he finally slows down.

We let the spasms run their course, each of our bodies twitching from the sheer pleasure of it all. I finally collapse, his large body moving to cradle mine in the twin-sized hospital bed below us. Our foreheads touch as he presses a soft kiss to my lips, sweat dripping from both of us as he smiles stupidly at me.

“I’ve never seen you so disheveled before. You’re usually so well put together,” I mumble, marveling at the way the top student in our class heaves out a shaky breath and caresses my face with his hand. He kisses my lips again before trailing the kisses back down to my neck.

As he kisses the bruised spot on my neck, I lean down and put my mouth right next to his ear.

“Zayne: 2. Me: 2,” I whisper, and he stops kissing my neck immediately. He looks up at me, his eyes meeting mine with a deadly seriousness.

“Looks like we’ll need a tiebreaker then, huh?”

“What did you have in mind?” I ask, and he just gives me a devilish grin before trailing the kisses back down my neck, moving lower with each one.

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THANKS FOR READING GUYS! And thank you to the person who left this ask. I had so much fun researching for this one and ended up texting my biochemistry major friend to ask for help (hiiiiiii Rich, if you're reading this).

I'll have the other asks I've received posted soon, I promise!

-Robbie

[fancyfeathers]

Always Prey But Never A Bird

Based on the Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling series

Previous Chapter <- Chapter Six -> Next Chapter

Taglist: @jsprien213 @toast-on-dandelioms @plsfckmedxddy @lilyalone @sydneyyyya @yandere-wishes

The halls of the museum felt like a trap of a maze, the walls squeezing on you as you walked through them, you on your now fiancé’s arm as you viewed the art galleries and exhibits and all while avoiding your family members that you spotted in the halls, but you still felt their judgment and glares, the only two who were not there were Jason and Cassandra, must have been covering the patrols and well you remember Jason did not really attend these things since his whole dying thing sort of made public appearances rather difficult for him. You spotted Dick and Barbara in the Greek and Roman art exhibit, when Dick spotted you he looked like he was about to cry and Barbara held onto his hand, keeping him from breaking out into a whole scene and panic attack. You spotted Tim holding Damian by the back of his suit jacket when he spotted you with you future husband in the modern art hall, remembering the first time he saw you and your boyfriend making out in the back stairwell of your old high school, he nearly gave him a concussion when he slammed Gabriel against the wall and threatened his life, god can only imagine what he would do now. Stephanie was with Bruce, you spotted them soon after your arrival near the entrance hall of the museum, whispering in hushed tones most likely about you. You had yet to see Duke, but you could bet he was somewhere around here, he was somewhat newer to the family, coming around when you were around ten and have been living in the manor for two or three years and he was around sixteen, but certainly he was no different from the rest of them, his tendencies just hidden better.

You stood sat on one of the benches in the European art hall, a flute of champagne in your hand as your eyes viewed over one of the paintings by Gustav Klimt, an Austrian painter, you remembered it was your mother’s favorite painting which was visiting the museum, the Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer I. You felt the weight of the bench shift as your fiancé came to sit down behind you after conversing with a few colleagues of his family’s business.

“My mother would have loved seeing this again.” You said, your head not even turning in to look at him, just fixed on the painting. “My mom took me to see it in its home exhibit in Neue Galerie New York and we just sat and looked at it for hours, I was six but I have never felt more stunned at something.”

“Maybe we can invite her to the wedding… if she can come.” He said, his hand resting on top of your free hand on your thigh. “But dove… there are some people who want to talk to you.”

“Gabriel, I really don’t want to see my family right now-“

“It’s not your father.” Your fiancé’s words caught your attention and you looked at him to see him gesture to someone standing in the surprisingly empty archway of the exhibit entrance. A slight feeling of shock formed in your chest as you saw a blonde haired man in another of one of those expensive suits.

“Mr. Queen… It has been awhile.” You forced yourself to stand up and walk towards the face you knew well, the billionaire Oliver Queen, known to few as the Green Arrow, a member of the Justice League, and someone who has known you for years. “I thought you would be back in Star City, not here.”

“I’m sponsoring one of the exhibits tonight, an appearance from me was sort of called for.” He reached out his arm for you to take, glancing back at your fiancé. “May I borrow her? My congratulations on your engagement by the way.”

“Thank you, Mr. Queen, and yes you may just bring her back.” With Gabriel’s words you took Oliver’s arm and the two of you walked further into the mostly empty gallery, only a person or two lingering about but they were either drunk or two far away to hear your conversation.

“You’re not just here for the exhibit, coming across the country just for this and leaving Star City.” You spoke to him, your mind snapping back to the warning Talia gave you a few weeks prior, something was happening and it was even bigger than you thought. “This is League business, isn’t it? Who else is here?”

“You sound like your old man, you know that right?” You shot a glare at Oliver after he said that, which made him regret that comment. “You are right, at the moment it is just your dad, my wife, and myself here, a few others are on call at the moment in case anything goes south.”

“Let me guess, Kent and Allen? They are the only two fast enough to get here in time.”

“Right again, but chances are it is not that extreme, something we can keep isolated to just Gotham.” You watched Oliver look down at you and a sigh escaped his lips. “I heard about what you have been up to during these last few years, Barbara was talking about it with Dinah and Helena.”

“Now they know, great…” You sighed, now it was not long before the Bird of Prey got involved with this as well, though you doubt someone like Helena or Selina would give you much trouble, especially since Selina Kyle was friends with your mother. “Look I really don’t want to get in your way or their way, so I just really don’t want to start any trouble with any of them.”

“Trouble, you based your style off of Dinah, she could not feel more flattered.” You did in fact base your style of your suit off of the famous heroine, albeit a more modest version since your family would be more disappointed if you dressed entirely like her. “I think the press also picked up on that, that’s where Songbird came from, right?”

“Ya… I didn’t think about it like that…” You paused, you had thought it was only from the press thinking you were involved with the Batman, Robin, Nightwing, bird and bat named heroes. You had never thought that it was actually linked to the one who inspired you, your own hero and idol, Black Canary. “I thought it was just linked to, you know, my old man… I don’t think I mind it as much after hearing that.”

“I thought that would be the case.” He laughed and you felt his arm slip away from yours, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder. “I have been watching the work you have been doing recently, if you want to do this then you have an ally with Dinah and myself. If Gotham does not suit you, I’m sure we would be happy enough to work with you in Star City.”

“Thanks… that means a lot.” You said to him, glancing from his eyes to where Gabriel waited on the plush leather bench. “But I think I’ll stay in Gotham for a while, I have a few more things to do, but thank you, I’ll be in touch.”

______________________

You were back on Gabriel’s arm after your conversation with Oliver Queen, walking off to the main hall of the museum, your head leaning against his shoulder as if protecting you from your family approaching you, along with that there were so many people that were around you all that they prevented someone, Damian mostly likely, from making a scene.

“Congratulations on your engagement.” You heard a familiar voice chime from behind you, you both turned around to see the face of Mr. Austen, he was holding his little sister on his hip, all while wearing a pastel pink suit that she picked out no doubt. You had mentioned to Gabriel that Mr. Austen was your and your friend’s sponsor, so it was no surprise that he knew your identity. “Would you mind if I borrowed you two for a moment?”

“Of course, in private I assume?” Mr. Austen nodded to your question and you immediately knew that this was a matter that involved vigilante business. You glanced at Gabriel and tugged him forward, following Mr. Austen as he led you back through the building, past the crowds, and all the way back to the storage room for closed exhibits, an area that no doubt had a basement with all the pieces this place had which had to be kept under tight security. Mr. Austen opened the storage door with a skeleton keycard, he glanced back at Gabriel and smiled. “My company made the security for the place, one of the only reasons it has not been ransacked.”

“Big brother is so smart!” His little sister added in which drew a chuckle from all of the adults present. You all stepped into the large room and when he was about to close the door behind you all a foot stopped it from closing and your heart skipped at the sight of your father pushing the door open, her persona and face he forces for the public completely gone.

“A-ah… Mr. Wayne, now is not a good time-“

“I need to talk to my daughter.” Your father interrupted Mr. Austen and something with that ticked you off, you shot a glare at your father which made a scowl form on his face.

“I have work to do father, whatever you want will have to wait.” You looked back at Mr. Austen and nodded for him to continue. “Please go on.”

“Right… as you know my company handles most of the security in the city, including Arkham Asylum, there was a security breach, not a breakout… yet.” You watch him pull out a small case from a pocket sewn in on the inside of his suit. “Clove is handling a situation with who I assume to be the Riddler down by the Dixon Docks and Henbane, Nettle, and Foxglove are shutting down one of Black Mask’s drug trade…”

“So I’m the only one who can handle it because I am fully recovered, got it.” You paused, glancing at your father who was still listening intently to your conversation, it felt like at any moment he was going to drag you out and all the way back to the manor so you will never be put into danger again. “Two things though, I don’t have my suit and even if I did, are there any big names in there, or anyone with a grudge against me?”

“Killer Moth and Firefly have been there since you caught them last month, but besides them, Bane, Scarecrow, Two Face, and well… the Joker, but none of them have ever gotten involved with you so there is no personal score to settle there.” You swear you could see your father pop a blood vessel, but he could not say anything because while Gabriel knew your identity and knew your father knew your identity, Gabriel had no clue that Bruce Wayne was the Batman. “Then as for your suit, don’t worry.”

He waved the case up before opening it, it was a small pin, an enamel raven pin. You let him pin it onto your dress as you raised an eyebrow. “It’s a pin?”

“It’s also your suit.” You let him reach out and tap the pin twice and before you could react there was an outburst and it felt like it was a scene from a movie as the fabric formed around your body like changing fibers. You must have looked like a child in a candy store with your reaction because Mr. Austen smiled, probably would have laughed if the situation was not so serious. “Nanotechnology, something I’ve been hoping for all of you, but I have only managed to finish your suit.”

“No it’s fine, thank you, oh my god this is so sick!” You must have shreked like a little girl because Gabriel hushed you.

“There is a bike for you out back, equipment on it for you as well.” Mr. Austen gestured towards a narrow window for you to climb out of across the room and you nodded. “I’ll send you the information on your way, it seems I’m on comm lines tonight.”

“Is Miss Wayne gonna be a hero?” The little girl asked, looking at her big brother with a wide smile and Mr. Austen nodded and then to which she looked at you with the biggest smile. “You’re my favorite.”

“Thank you.” You looked at Gabriel then, pressing a small kiss to his cheek. “I’ll be back before you know it.” You then looked at your father, staring at him for a moment, your smiling fading away. “Goodbye father.”

______________________

Your motorcycle roared beneath you as you rode up north, navigating your way to Arkham Island. You were easily pushing ninety miles per hour as you were driving and weaving in and out of traffic. You drove even faster down the Robbins Bridge, not wanting to get stuck in an incident like last time. The closer you got to the Asylum the more bare the streets became and soon enough it was just you…

You wanted it to be just you…

The road lit up before you as lights from a car as it rode up next to you. You would have panicked if the car was not so painfully familiar, the Batmobile, a stupid name in your opinion but it was a cool looking car. You wondered how long it would take for your old man to follow after you after he heard Joker’s name, you just did not expect for him to be this fast.

It was no wonder that he was rushing after you, the words Joker, secretly breach, and Arkham Asylum did not sit well together. He was already protecting you, but remembering what happened to Jason when Joker murdered him was too much to risk.

Luckily your father did not try to cut you off or get in your way as you rode down the road and bridge to Arkham Asylum, only stopping when you stopped in front of the asylum, just past the gates. You jumped off your bike just as the doors to the Batmobile opened up and your father stepped out in full gear.

“Songbird, go home.” His voice was commanding and for the first time you did not hate being called that name since Oliver shined a new light upon it. You ignored his words, continuing to walk forward to the doors of Arkham Asylum, flipping him off, which you instantly regretted because he grabbed your arm, pulling you backwards, making you look at him. “I gave you an order, Songbird. Now go home.”

“You don’t get to order me, I’m not like one of your birds and bats.” You brought your knee up to his gut, which was practically nothing, but it got him to let go of you. “Besides it’s just a security check, I can handle and of these fuckers, and this is my job and case, not yours.”

“I am trying to protect you-“

“I was told to expect you when I was on my way here, Songbird.” A familiar and tired voice spoke out to you as the doors to the asylum opened up. You spotted the familiar face of the GCPD commissioner, Jim Gordan, a person you had worked with more and more over the last two years, of course this was the first time he was seeing you and the Batman together. “I did not expect you to bring Batman along. Are you one of his?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

The answers were spoken at the same time and you shot a glare at him and he frowned at you. You glanced back at Commissioner Gordon and you took a deep breath before shaking your head. “He likes to think I am one of his, but I don’t take orders from him, our tech and gear are not the same and our comm lines are completely different. He just wanted to follow along.” You rolled your eyes and stepped inside the building, your father following closely behind you. “What are we looking at, Commissioner? Break out level or something like a security camera malfunction?”

“Security camera is down in Joker’s cell.” He replied with a sigh. “My men are spread thin enough so they can’t get it back online, besides not even the asylum staff has access to the security network, I was informed that you do?”

“That would be correct, I can handle it-“

“I’ll do it.” Your father interrupted you and you scoffed as his hand came to firmly grasp onto your shoulder and he looked down at you. “You can wait outside the cell.”

“Like hell I will! You don’t even have access to the…” Your hand trailed down to your own utility belt to grab the emergency connector the the Austen Security Network, but it was gone. You looked up and it was in his hand. “Hey, that’s not yours, you can’t have that-“

“If you argue I will drag you back home, do you understand?” His tone was the same one he used when you were a child, stern and serious, as if you were going to sneak out to go to a party with your friends, that’s how he viewed you, a child, his child.

“…fine…”

“Good.” You felt yourself shrink into yourself, crossing your arms as you passed the police commissioner, your father leading you further into Arkham Asylum. “Stay close, I need to talk to you after this.”

______________________

You have never been this far into Arkham Asylum in your life, Henbane or Foxglove were normally the ones who handled things on the island, but even then this was more the territory of the Birds and the Bats, not your turf. Even half of the inmates in this place are people you have never even faced before, nor did you want to…

Bane would snap you like a twig, you were too small and nimble to stand a chance against him.

Scarecrow was not the sort you could handle, that fear toxin would only bring back bad memories of when you lived in Wayne Manor and could potentially expose not only your identity but that of your entire family. Though you did read his old reports from when he occasionally taught at Gotham University and when he was just Dr. Jonathan Crane, despite his madness he was quite smart.

Two Face, well you could stand a chance against him, he was someone you could handle, but you chose not to for personal reasons. He knew you as a child, Bruce Wayne’s little princess, and that… you were no longer that girl.

Then there was the Joker. Jason's story happened long before you arrived at the mansion, but you could see the physical and mental scars it left on him. You remember the first time you saw one of his panic attacks, his mind going back to that day when the Joker tortured and murdered him, it scared you and it was second hand.

Your father made sure you were firmly behind him as you approached Joker’s cell, making it clear that you were just going to watch and that you would run if anything went wrong. You did not know what to expect, but it was not what you saw. He was sitting on the bed in his padded cell, his arms restrained in a straight jacket, his hair was an ugly shade of neon green which was faded due to the lack of hair dye in Arkham Asylum, his eyes were wide and unblinking, it almost reminded you of a doll you would see in a horror movie, and the. There were his lips, there was a cut across his face which had the illusion of extending his smile to an unsettling degree, it was scared over but it was clear that he continued to pick at it, reopening the wound and it was scabbing over again and again. And then when he looked up at the two of you, more specifically your father, you wanted to vomit.

“Oh Batsy, you came to see me.” His voice had a high pitched, raspy, sing song tone, you already hated it. Then his eyes turned to you and a cackle escaped his lips that sent a shiver down your spine. “You even brought another one of your birds for me to play with, I had such fun with the last one and all of his screams, I wonder if she’ll scream louder.”

“You’re never going to get the chance.” Your father snapped back, not wasting a moment as he stepped into the cell, so secure it had a two rooms, one that kept the Joker behind bars and one that kept him from reaching out and grabbing someone if he got free of his straight jacket, a layer of bullet proof glass, and in that little area between the barriers was the security camera that was down.

“And I’m not one of his birds.” You snapped back to the madman as your father began to hook up the connector to the camera. “He just interfered with my case, a thorn in my side.”

“Oh but I’m sure you would scream his name, begging him to save you, oh I would love to hear that.” He laughed again, his voice ringing loudly in your ears as he mocked you. “Oh Batman, save me, save me please! I don’t want to die!”

“I’ve had enough.” You rolled your eyes, turning on your heel and walking back down the hallway of cells in Arkham Asylum. “I would rather shoot myself in the skull and kill myself then beg for him to save me.”

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XLIII)

Chapter 43: ‘The whole world depends on your pure eyes and all my blood flows into their gaze’

Hi! Here is a new chapter! Some cuteness, some cuteness!!

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so no minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 4472

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

The curve of your eyes winds around my heart, A round of gentleness and dance, Halo of time, night cradle and safe, And if I no longer know all that I’ve lived It’s that your eyes haven’t always seen me.

Leaves of day and foam of dew, Reeds of the wind, scented smiles, Wings shading the world of light, Boats brimming with sky and sea, Hunters of noise and sources of colour,

Scents bloomed from a brood of dawns That still rests on a bed of stars, As the day depends on innocence The whole world depends on your pure eyes And all my blood flows into their gaze.

Paul Eluard, Capitale de la douleur, 1929

Summer. Emerald waves tainted the sea with white foam. Warmth. Rest. Vacations. Rain…

… it was Galway, after all, rain was never far away.

Andrew was getting frustrated. He was so excited to go on this vacation with you, you had spent so much time planning, and talking about it, and awaiting this trip…

… and now it was raining. It was cold. You were lost. In the middle of fucking nowhere. Stuck behind some bloody sheep…

Only in Ireland, really… It was fucking August, for God’s sake…

He heard you letting out a long exhale, feeling your frustration creeping through every corner of the car, your negative energy matching his.

He knew you would end up fighting. It didn’t happen often, but every couple fought from time to time. It had never been important, never been anything you couldn’t get passed in a matter of minutes. Your fights had always grown out of frustration over situations, like this one iteration of everything going wrong…

On the back seat, Elwood was growing restless. Andrew could hear its heavy breaths, the noise of his fur moving against the fabric of the seats. Even him was getting annoyed now.

“You should have turned left.”

There it was. Andrew knew you had longed to voice that sharp remark. To be fair, you were right, he was the one who had insisted to turn right at a previous intersection, hence getting the three of you lost.

He was not in the mood to be a reasonable adult and recognising his wrongs though.

“Next time, you’ll drive, so you can take all the bad decisions, and I can do the blaming. You had the map…”

“We have a fucking GPS…”

“Which is not currently working in this godforsaken land…”

“And I told you to turn left, and you didn’t listen!”

“Again, just take the fucking wheel then!”

You exchanged a glare, your eyes sparkling with thunder, before you huffed and looked at the time on your phone.

“We won’t catch the ferry. We should turn back.”

“We can still catch it.”

“It’s leaving in less than half an hour…”

“We can still catch it.”

“Andrew! We have no fucking clue where we are! We’re stuck behind those bloody sheep! We will not make it to the ferry, so let’s just… go back to the house.”

“You’re getting defeated…”

“No, I’m realistic. We’ll never get there on time, and especially not with these bloody sheep!”

“And what am I supposed to do about it?!”

You stared at each other for a moment. And then you did something Andrew had not predicted.

You unfastened your seat belt, opened the car door, and left.

You climbed out of the car, forcefully slammed the door shut. And you started walking across the road, walking ahead without so much as a glance in his direction. You had barely managed a few steps that you were already soaked.

As he stared at you walking under the rain, walking away from the car, walking away from him, all traces of anger left Andrew’s body. Instead, an old fear came back, raging, blurring his world for a second.

You were leaving…

In the span of a handful of seconds, mere seconds, his brain raced to the worst scenario possible. His thoughts stopped being logical and were filled with his worst fear instead.

You were sick of him. You regretted moving in with him. You wanted your ex back all over again. You would have been happier with Frank than with him. You were leaving, dumping his arse, it was over…

God… how could he survive that? You were… you were… he couldn’t…

But then you did turn around.

“ANDREW! HELP ME OUT FOR FUCK’S SAKE!”

He frowned, unable to move.

“ANDY! COME HELP ME OUT!”

That was when he finally realised what you were doing. You weren’t leaving. You weren’t walking out of his life. You weren’t breaking up with him, you were…

He saw you moving your arms in the air, calling through the heavy rain towards the scattered sheep, and he finally understood that you were trying to gather them all on the side of the road, towards an open field.

He tried to regulate both his breathing and his heartbeat while he climbed out of the car, securing his coat around his frame to protect himself from the cold rain.

He was panicking over nothing. You weren’t leaving. You weren’t leaving. It was fine… he was fine… all fine…

He longed to hurry to you, but his body couldn’t. It was a strange mixture of tiredness, frustration, remnants of anger, and fear. Mostly fear.

He had to stop overthinking everything. You weren’t like that. You loved him, and he knew that, deep down… it was just difficult for him to believe he was that lucky sometimes. He couldn’t help it…

You turned to him as he approached.

“We need to get them out of the way,” you said, your voice still shaking with anger.

You were visibly surprised when he wrapped his arms around you, held you in a fragile embrace. He felt you instantly relaxing, your body growing numb into his arms as you reached up to hold him as well.

“I’m sorry I got mad,” you mumbled under your breath, although you were still frustrated.

“I’m sorry too.”

“We should go back.”

“I’m sorry. You were excited about this trip.”

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

“It is though.”

“It’s okay.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, honey.”

You didn’t hesitate a second to say it back, to pick up on one of his pet names again. And he ought to stop overthinking everything, but he couldn’t…

“Let’s go back to the car. You’re soaked, love. You’ll catch your death. Come on,” he prompted you towards the car, and you followed him.

Andrew made a U-turn, drove back to the small cottage-like house you were renting during your two weeks in Galway. The drive back was quiet, but the silence was comfortable and warm again. All traces of frustration seemed to have disappeared from your features by the time you reached the cottage. It had stopped raining too, so you didn’t get even more drenched as you walked from the car to the front door.

You heaved a relieved sigh as you stepped inside the warm house, you wiggled happily as you took off your coat.

“We can try to get to the ferry again tomorrow,” Andrew started, his tone cautious.

You surprised him with a shrug.

“We could. We’ll see.”

“I thought you wanted to…”

“Andy… it’s alright. I don’t care. Don’t overthink this. It’s just an afternoon, it was just an activity. We can stay here today, relax, enjoy each other’s company. I don’t mind if we don’t go see the Arans. I don’t mind at all. I promise.”

Andrew forced his shoulders to relax.

“We can still go later this week.”

You nodded, a playful glimmer shining in your eyes.

“Although, next time, we’ll turn left,” you quipped, teasing him while gently pinching his side.

He rolled his eyes, but a smile was back on his lips. If you were joking around, it meant that you weren’t mad. Good… that was good…

“You should take a shower, love. You’re freezing,” Andrew spoke in a quiet, warm voice, the one he knew always soothed you. He let his knuckles brush the sharper edge of your cheekbone, hated the coldness of your skin, longed for you to be warm and content again.

You nodded, taking off your jumper and wet jeans as you made your way to the bathroom.

“Actually, I think I’ll take a bath. We can take our time today, relax.”

You turned around, tilted your head a little in a tempting way as you spoke again. Andrew was having a hard time looking at your eyes instead of the length of your naked legs…

“Want to join me?” you smiled.

He gave you a suggestive look.

“In the bath? Or in bed?”

You bit down on your lower lip, and Andrew was gone for good. God, you had him wrapped around your finger… were you aware of the extent of his need for you?

“Hmm… bed first, then a bath? After all, we did fight… Some make-up sex is in order, no?”

He hummed, nodding his head as he walked closer to you. This time he didn’t refrain his urge to let his gaze travel down your legs, marvelling at their perfect curves, his fingers tingling already at the thought of touching them, feeling the softness of your skin, your warmth spread through his palms…

When he stopped, right before you, and looked up at your eyes again, there was something inviting in your gaze. He knew this look very well by now. It was the one that granted silent permission, the one that said I want you too, you can touch me…

His heart swelled at the thought that you were granting him the right to be this close to you now. That you were allowing him, even inviting him, to touch you. To kiss you. To worship your body… and he would. For the coming hour, he planned to do nothing but worship you, in the hopes that you would read in his adoration how much he loved you. How much he cared. How much he needed you.

You were staring right into his eyes as your hands slowly rose to his chest, as you peeled his cardigan off his body. There was so much tension in the air then, electric, as heavy as your stammering breaths, while you slowly unfastened the buttons of his white shirt. One button at a time. At an excruciatingly slow pace…

He let you do it though, do as you pleased with him. He loved it, the way you were setting a pace now. The way you were taking control. There was a quiet tenderness in each of your touches that told him he was safe with you, that you would never do him harm, that he could lay his heart, his body, his life into your hands, and despite that power over him, you wouldn’t destroy him.

He needed to stop overthinking everything…

He helped you slide his shirt off his shoulders, let you rest your palms on his undershirt, one hand on of each of his breasts.

“I love you.”

He grinned at the tender confession.

“I love you too.”

When you reached up to kiss him, it felt like breathing after a lifetime without air, like relief, like being alive…

At last… at fucking last…

This ought to be heaven.

After your pleasurable reconciliation, you opted to take a bath together. An hour spent in pleasure was incredible, but also exhausting, and both of you longed for rest now. Sharing a bath offered the warmth and quiet perfect for your tired bodies, and the intimacy you both craved after sex.

Andrew smiled at the memory.

Incredible sex, actually…

You heaved a content sigh as you readjusted your head against his shoulder, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. His brain was fuzzy with a happy static, the kind he had never experienced before. A strange sense of peace, contentment, happiness… but that felt better than all of that combined. He couldn’t explain it. He felt it only with you, that was for sure…

“Your skin is so soft,” he mused, trailing his fingers across your waist and hip, speaking without thinking.

It felt so soothing to have you in his arms like this. There was something grounding, reassuring, and delightfully vulnerable in lying here with you, naked, sharing a bath and cuddling. You seemed to have a special power, one that made his busy brain grow quiet.

You chuckled at his words, kissed his chest as a reward.

“Yours is soft too,” you nodded, caressing his chest as if to stress your words.

Andrew shifted his legs, unfolding them to prop his feet on the edge of the bathtub, making the water and its bubbles shift with his movements. You had added some scented salts, and he liked it. It was soothing. It felt so nice.

Loving you was so good…

You giggled, making him look at you again.

“God… even this gigantic bathtub is too small for you…”

He laughed then, bright and happy with your teasing. He wiggled his toes for good measure, making you break into laughter once more.

“Can’t help it,” he shrugged.

“I love that about you. That you’re really tall.”

“Do you, now?”

You hummed in response.

“It’s sexy.”

He chuckled, his cheeks turning a brighter shade of pink.

“Oh… so I’m sexy?”

He wiggled his eyebrows, making you laugh.

“Of course you are,” was your only answer, offered as if it was obvious.

Sometimes he forgot that you loved him this way. Like it was easy. Like there was nothing more natural in the world. That was how he felt for you; loving you felt as natural as filling his lungs with air, blinking at the bright sun, moving his leg over yours in bed. It was easy. Obvious. Ineffable.

You said that you felt like that, too. If it were a truth, it was a hard one to believe in. He wanted to though, longed for the safety of certainty.

He looked up at the ceiling, let out a long exhale as you nuzzled into his neck again, ran your fingers across his chest in such a soothing way, he almost closed his eyes.

He needed to stop overthinking this. You were here, in his arms, naked, loving him… it ought to be proof enough that you truly wanted him.

This fear he had felt in the car, seeing you walk away, this… uncontrollable dread that you could leave… He had to stop thinking about it, but he couldn’t.

What if you left?

He tried to picture his life without you in it. There would still be Elwood, his parents, his brother, Alex, his friends, his classes, his writing, music, poetry. He could find someone else, eventually. He hated every part of it…

When he pictured you in the same scenarios, everything seemed brighter. His life was better simply because you were in it. He tried to think of his life in a year, in five years, in ten years, in sixty years… Every time the life he wanted had you in it. He couldn’t picture a future that was happy without you being a part of it.

He had never felt like that before. Even with Sam. He had thought he would always love her, and yet, there were bits of his life that he didn’t picture her into. He could imagine living on his own, he could imagine his career, his friends, his family… without Sam in it, and still be content.

Not with you. All these lonesome pictures felt wrong. You were missing…

He thought of his life, the one that awaited him, that laid at his feet, and he didn’t want to live it without you.

“What are you thinking about?”

Your voice was quiet, warm. When he looked down at you again, if there was puzzlement in your gaze, there was infinite tenderness too.

He wanted this to last forever. You. Him. Forever…

He never wanted this to end. And somehow, he just knew then. That the reason why he couldn’t picture a happy life without you, was simply because you were the one for him. You were the love of his life. And his heart would always be yours.

He thought he would be scared by such a realisation, but he wasn’t. He reckoned the feelings had been in his heart for too long, had become a part of him. He was simply putting words on what he felt. You were the love of his life. He was so happy it was you…

He wanted to believe that you felt the same, but he wasn’t sure. It was okay. One day, perhaps, he would be. If he loved you for long enough, if he let you love him fully, perhaps, one day, he would stop being afraid of losing you.

Instead of answering by any of these thoughts, he cupped your cheek, gave you a tender smile.

“Nothing important. I love you, that’s all.”

Andrew was on the porch, you could hear him play the guitar. A soft melody you didn’t know, perhaps it was his own. You encouraged him to write full songs, but he kept on claiming he didn’t really want to. Poetry was enough. Music was enough. The two entities didn’t need to mingle. Sometimes he did play some guitar, hummed a melody to match one of his poems. Which you called ‘writing a song’, but he called it ‘exploring a theme through different media’. You rolled your eyes at him every time.

After the heavy rains of the afternoon, the evening was sunny and surprisingly warm. Outside, the sun was setting, kissing the hills goodbye as it lingered on their tops, flashing its golden hues into the sky before it would grow dark. You walked out with a cup of warm tea in each of your hands, took a moment to watch the beautiful colours in the sky, all golden and orange fading into red. It was quiet, you had rented a small house as an AirBnB in the country side, and there was no one around. Your closest neighbours owned a farm about a kilometre away, the road leading to the cottage was rarely used. You let your eyes travel across the fields, the green of grass, the deeper shades of bushes, the winding lines of stone walls. It was magical, in a way. There was something anchoring to this land, that made you feel like you belonged there.

The soft melody resumed on Andrew’s guitar, you turned to him. Elwood was lying at his feet with his eyes closed, but the movement of his tail told you he wasn’t asleep. Andrew was sitting on a wooden bench, right under the window of the kitchen, his legs stretched before him and taking up the whole width of the porch. His fingers danced on strings, he was humming every now and then. His notebook was by his side, open on a page stained with black ink. It was the notebook you had offered him the previous year, for his birthday. He never went anywhere without it. He seemed so peaceful, a content smile tugging at his lips. His long hair was tight in a messy bun, and he was gorgeous in an old pair of jeans and a blue plaid shirt, his skin and hair bathed in the golden light of the sinking sun. Beyond him, hills rolled, green and gorgeous. Andrew was all you could see.

You remained standing there, motionless, like a fool, staring at your partner with awe written all over your features. It was such a mundane, simple sight. And yet, it struck you then. The depth of your feelings for him, your longing for this never to end, for him never to leave.

It was silly… so silly… to realise that truth just by watching him, in casual clothes, playing mindless melodies on his guitar. And yet, that was the moment when you admitted to yourself that this was the life you wanted. You. Him. Forever. You never wanted this to end.

And God, he told you he loved you daily, showed it even more in a thousand actions and attentions he had for you each day. And yet, a part of you was still afraid he would leave, that you could lose him. What would you do without him?

You hadn’t noticed the music fading, too busy getting lost in the green of his eyes as he turned to you.

“You’re alright, love?” he asked, accent thick on his tongue with the fondness of his words, while he tilted his head.

You shook yourself, walked over to him.

“Yeah, yeah… I’m okay,” you smiled. “Made you some tea.”

“Oh, thanks!”

He accepted the cup you offered, moved his notebook so you could sit by his side. You didn’t mean to pry, you knew Andrew would not want you to read his writing unless he offered to tell you about it, so you looked away from the notebook as soon as you caught the title of his new poem.

That You Are.

“It’s about you,” he explained, noticing your glimpse at the notebook.

“I didn’t read…”

“I know. I trust you.”

You exchanged a smile.

“Are you really writing about me?” you asked, feeling shier now.

He chuckled, kissed your cheek.

“Who else could I write about? You’re my partner…” he answered, bending slightly in search of your gaze.

“I don’t know… your mistress…”

He laughed, shaking his head.

“You’re right, she’s hiding in the trunk of our car.”

“Can she breathe in there?”

“Bottle of oxygen.”

“Clever.”

He shook his head at you while laughing, but when he spoke again he was serious once more.

“It’s not quite finished, you can’t read it for now.”

“That’s okay. Do you want to tell me more about what it’s about?”

He shrugged, blushing.

“It’s about… being in love with you. And… wanting to be where you are all the time.”

He stared at you, and you couldn’t help yourself when you reached up to cup his jaw and kiss his lips.

“What about the music?”

“Just…something I’ve been thinking about. To go with the poem.”

“So… you’re writing me a song now? Am I about to be serenaded?”

He laughed, shaking his head.

“You’re insufferable,” he mumbled, before shushing your unspoken teasing with a quick kiss.

“I like it when you sing.”

“I know.”

There was something emotional shining in his eyes, but he didn’t speak more about it, and you let him draw the conversation away.

“What have you been up to?” he asked, taking a sip of his warm beverage while he put his guitar away.

He always asked these kinds of questions. At the end of every day he asked about how your classes had been, how was your research, how you were feeling. What had you been doing during the hours you had spent apart? It wasn’t prying, if you didn’t want to tell him, he didn’t insist. He just… genuinely wanted to know how your day had been. And you did the same for him. You remembered a time when you had settled for less than that simple, daily gesture. What an idiot you had been…

“I was just checking the weather for the coming days. It should be sunny on the Arans in a couple of days, so perhaps we could stay on the main land tomorrow. Perhaps a nice trek? It should rain early in the morning, but it’ll clear before noon.”

Andrew nodded, sipping on his tea, readjusting his glasses. At his feet, Elwood was now napping for good.

“We can drive to the national park, it isn’t far from here” he offered, looking at your phone as you showed him a page that referenced some paths across the wilderness of Connemara.

“Yeah, I thought we could walk around a lough.”

You studied the maps for a while, decided which path you would take the next day. Once the plans for your little adventure were sorted, Andrew gave you a mischievous smile, turning around and swinging his long legs over the edge of the bench. You fondly smiled as he moved to rest his head on your laps. His knees were bent over the edge of the bench, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Can I?” you asked in a quiet, tender voice as you lightly tugged on his hairband. He merely lifted his head a little as a response, so you could free his long curls, letting the chestnut strands cover your laps.

You took off his glasses too, secured them by your side. He let his eyes close with a relieved sigh as you ran your hands through his hair. You felt his body relax, the tension in his muscles disappear under your soft touch.

“This is so nice,” he hummed.

“It is,” you nodded, softly scratching his scalp, and he let out a long breath in response.

“I know that we had to wait until August to leave for our anniversary, instead of celebrating properly at the right date… but it was worth the wait!”

“We did celebrate on the date, though.”

“Yeah… but this is the actual celebration. Like… the real gift.”

“Hmm… yeah, you’re right. And I agree, it was worth the wait.”

“We outdid ourselves with this trip.”

“Yeah, we did.”

“It feels so nice to be just the two of us. To not have to worry about the usual, daily problems for a while.”

“Yeah… I reckon we both needed this.”

He took one of your hands in his. While you kept on running your fingers through his hair, he brought your other hand to his mouth, pressed it to his lips for a long kiss, intertwining your fingers together. He brought it to rest on his sternum next, stroking your knuckles.

You wanted to tell him, then. That he was the one. That he was the love of your life. That you never wanted him to leave…

But you couldn’t. You didn’t have neither the courage nor the strength. It had been a year, it was too soon. You knew, but he probably didn’t. Why scare him off when you could stay quiet and stare at his handsome features while the day ended and a new night was born out of the sun’s absence? It was safer this way…

“I love you so much, Y/N. You know that, right?” he asked in a whisper, and you noticed by how his voice had quietened that he was beginning to drift off to sleep.

You offered a tender smile he couldn’t see.

“I love you too, Andy. More than anything.”

He gave your hand a squeeze, and a moment later, his lips were parting, and he was asleep, your hand still in his, resting on his chest, and his head on your lap. You kept on looking at him, admired his peaceful expression as he slept, every detail of his face, making sure to commit each of them to memory. You didn’t pay much attention to the dying sunset, despite the colours it shone onto the world. Only when it was getting too dark for you to see Andrew’s features did you notice the passage of time. But then again, he was beautiful like this, and his hair was so soft, and the weight of his head on your lap was reassuring, grounding…

Five more minutes…

[scorpioriesling]

GIRLIE i have been reading 4th wing and holy hell, why havent we got an azriel x fourth wing yettt? like just imagine, that man is literally perfect for ANY book crossover, I would pay good money to see Az beat the frick out of jack (ew)

Our Worlds Collided

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Azriel x reader

Warning(s): Violence... I mean, read the ask. Lol.

Summary: Living in a different place than your boyfriend is hard, and the moments you can be together, you don't want to waste. But, being in school, there are still obligations and tasks you must complete -- even if it means spending time with your man in a less-than-ideal place.

SR’s Note: This ask was *chef's kiss*. I've been doing so much lately with smut + the Invisible String series (which is finished btw, go read it if you haven't yet) that I haven't really got to write a cute little short story in a while. I hope this is what you wanted -- I'm happy with how it turned out!

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @velarisdusk (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

"I'm so glad you made it!"

You threw your arms around your boyfriend, his tall but strong frame engulfing you as he held you close. Grateful for the familiar scent of pine and mint, you inhaled deeply.

"You missed me that much?" The low timbre of his voice was like a caress against your very soul.

Nodding wordlessly, he pulled back, only a bit to look into your eyes. His shadows danced around him in a joyful parade, signaling his inner happiness he so rarely showed on the outside.

"I missed you too, Y/N." He leaned down, pressing a kiss against your lips and smiling when you tugged him close for more. He slid his rough hands along your waist, settling on your hips while his lips moved against yours.

The moment, one you'd been desperate for for weeks now, was harshly interrupted by the mid-afternoon bell, signaling the end of classes for the day. You pulled back, watching your boyfriend grimace at the sound.

"Don't tell me you've never heard a schoolbell before, Azriel," you chuckled. His ears perked up at the sound, and only when it finally ended did he resume his usual, unassuming posture.

"I'll have to get used to the sounds here again." He says. It was true -- where he was from, Prythian, sounds were much softer as the fae hearing had adapted that way. But, in Basgiath, for your kind; it was quite the opposite.

"Yes... and the dragons." You'd taken his hand, making way for your dorm as he sighed.

"Ahh, yes. Almost forgot about those."

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

He truly could not have come to visit at a worse time; not to sound ungrateful, you loved seeing your boyfriend and all, but between all the training, challenges, and courses you were balancing -- well, there were many hours of the day that you had to leave him to attend those duties.

But, you couldn't complain. Spending every evening, curled up with Azriel, your back to his chest as you got the best sleep of your life? You were counting down the days to graduation.

"So... a first year... that's when we met," Azriel says slowly, flipping through one of your library books. He'd chosen Basgiath's War College History, and was all the more quizzical.

"Yes," you confirmed. "That was when I took Ramir to... well, Prythian." You shrugged. "Accidental, of course, but, look what it got me."

He glanced up, chuckling as you threw him a wink. It was an unusually rainy Friday, and though you'd rather be exploring the town with Azriel, Emetterio had other plans.

"But, how were you even able to leave the college with your dragon?" He asks, frowning at the next. You wrap a few more strands of your braid, reflecting on the distant memory.

"Oh, I got in trouble all right." General Sorrengail had been furious with you upon your return, having clearly stated that dragon riding was for Basgiath-grounds only. "But, like I said -- at least I met you."

He doesn't look up this time, flipping the page and reading more of the text intently.

"So, now that you're a third-year," he starts, his attention only faltering for a moment when you sit down on the mattress beside him. "You can go anywhere you want?"

You nod in confirmation. "Yup. That's right -- Ramir doesn't particularly like long-distance flying, but he does just fine going to Prythian and back."

Azriel looks sidelong at you, and in the dim afternoon light, you can count every freckle on his face. His hazel eyes gaze at you, flickering between your eyes and lips. You lean in, pressing a quick kiss to his lips as his hands slide along your upper thigh.

Your alarm buzzes from your phone, causing Azriel to pull back and cover his ears with his palms. You scramble to turn it off, leaning across your boyfriend to reach the night stand in the process.

"Sorry! I'm sorry," you apologize. Your movement to sit back down is halted; his large hands pulling you to straddle him.

He smirks at you, appreciating your cute giggle as you sit on his lap. His hands run up and down the sides of your waist, and in an instant his lips are on yours again.

"Hmm, quite handsy today, are we?" You mumble, eliciting a chuckle from him against your mouth. He enforces his feelings as his left hand lightly pats your behind, and you squeak.

"I wonder why you've got all this on, anyway?" He mutters suggestively. You peer down at him with a scolding expression.

"Though I'd love to have it all off," you punctuate. "I have to be in the training room in 10 minutes." His smile falters a bit, and you realize too late that you slipped up.

"Training room? For what?"

Realization hits you, and you hastily hop off his lap to grab your phone and boots.

"Uh, we have, umm..." You fumble, quickly yanking your boots on and tying the laces. "Training. Tonight."

He looks at you, unimpressed. "Really. Training, at 5 in the afternoon? On a Friday?" He raises an eyebrow.

You huff, standing as you adjust your leathers. "Y-yes."

He continues his blank stare, clearly not buying it.

"Don't worry, I won't be long -- I promise, I'll be quick." You reach for the doorhandle, making up for the time you you'd spent on your boyfriend's lap.

"And, safe." He calls, just as the door shuts.

As you jogged through the corridors, you felt anything but safe. Azriel hated when you got hurt, and of course, before the long weekend, Professor Emetterio was holding challenges. It made sense to choose tonight so injured riders could rest up before classes resumed Tuesday -- but given your situation, it really, really sucked.

Especially because of who had chellanged you; none other than Jack Barlowe.

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"Girl, you're lucky Emetterio is running behind," Violet says, shaking her head as you finally make it to the training ring. Rhiannon places a light hand on your shoulder, making sure you're okay, but you only nod to her in thanks.

"I.... I lost, track... of time," you say between pants. Rhiannon nods in sympathy, but your silver-haired friend only smirks.

"Mhm, I'm sure you did. Too caught up with the Shadowsinger?" She teases. Rhiannon gasps.

"I didn't know Azriel was in town!" She beams. You roll your eyes at Violet.

"Oh, like you've never been late before," you grin wickedly. "Too busy playing with shadows, and such." Rhiannon claps a hand over her mouth, giggling at the insinuation.

Violet can't help but laugh too. "Oh please -- we know you love your boyfriends little playmates just as much."

Just then, the training room door swings open as Professor Emetterio walks through. He walks straight to the center of the room, clipboard in hand.

"Students!" He bellows, and the entire room hushes. "I have the list here of challenges for this evening -- now, I want to remind you all, the goal of these scheduled fights is not to kill, but rather build your own strength as a rider against an opponent."

Your eyes flicker to that familiar head of blonde hair across the room. Bile rises in your throat as he snickers, whispering something to his friends before meeting you with a menacing stare.

You look away.

"...we'll try to make this quick, as I do understand it is a long weekend and most of you have plans." He clears his throat, adjusting his glasses on his nose and squinting down at the first names.

"Ridoc and Merlin -- please step onto the training mat!"

Everyone clears off the mat, instead lining the outer edges to get a view of the impending battle before them. You stay close to your friends, your attention interrupted by Violet's voice in your ear.

"We've always kind of had the same type, haven't we?"

Rhiannon giggles again from her other side, and you loose a breath you hadn't realized you were holding.

"We do not -- for example, I would've never dated a guy like Dain." You quip. Violet groans, stratching her forehead.

"Okay, that was definately one mistake," she says. Rhiannon glances between the two of you, counting the similarities on one hand.

"Hmm, tall, tan, brooding shadow masters? Yeah, I'd say your type is the same." You blush, thinking of the handsome male waiting for you in your dorm room.

Violet chimes in. "Don't forget about the tattoos."

Rhiannon nods, holding up another finger. "Right, right -- definitely can't forget the tattoos."

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Three more pairs are called after the first fight, and you're so caught up in conversation with your friends that you almost miss your name being called.

"Y/N and Jack -- please take the mat!"

Violet looks to you in horror, as Rhiannon gasps.

"Y/N! Why didn't you tell me you had to fight-"

"It wouldn't have changed anything." You glare ahead, watching Jack's pompous, blonde head part through the crowd of onlookers.

It was true, your friends couldn't have done anything to change the fact that Jack had challenged you. In a twisted way, you kind of wanted the opportunity to punch him in the face -- but, the niggling fear of him punishing you to the near brink of death had you mostly thinking otherwise.

Taking the mat, you watched as Jack sized you up, smirking and rolling his lip between his teeth before taking his beginning stance. You mirrored him, fists raised, though they shook.

"Begin."

Jack wastes no time, slowly stepping around the ring as he continues to look at you menacingly. You move in opposition, trying to keep as much distance as you can.

"Awww," he coos mockingly. "Not so tough now that were in the training ring, are we?" He smirks.

You glare at him. "I've always been tougher than you, Jack."

He chuckles, lunging forward and clicking his teeth together in front of your face. You step back, your boot stepping onto the cold concrete floor outside the training ring. Emettario clears his throat, before breathing out a sigh.

"Y/N, please. Step back onto the mat."

You take a half step onto the mat, it's surface not much more forgiving than the concrete it sat on. Jack snickers, backing up to allow you an inch of room.

"Y'look scared to me, Y/N." He moves, slow and stealthy. "Almost as scared as Baide when I-"

"Shut the Hell up." You grit out, glaring hard at him. Reflecting back to the moment that caused all this to begin with, your blood boils. Finding Jack out late that night last week, all of those weapons, how he had mistreated his own dragon-

"Ooooh, hot are we?" He sneers, ignoring the fearful faces of your friends standing just outside the ring behind him. "That's the difference between dragons and us -- they are easier to control."

Rage bubbles over the surface, your own words drifting into the back of your mind. They're no different than we are, you'd tried to convince him that night. They deserve our respect.

You lunge at him, respect be damned for the asshole before you. Adrenaline pumps through your veins at the silent victory; your fist had hit him exactly where you wanted it to. He staggers back, clutching his face with one hand as he gasps, his other hand raised before him.

"Fuck, you!" He growls, making to grab you but you're too fast. You snake to his side, kicking your boot against his stomach. He doubles over, falling to his knees in pain.

The memory of Violet in this position from your first year sends you reeling, remembering the horror of watching your best friend beaten and bruised so badly that Xaden had to come finish her challenge for her.

You grap him around the neck, flexing your arm at a 45 degree angle in an attempt to put him in a headlock. He'd never hurt anyone again; not you, not your friends, not any dragon, whether it be someone else's or his own-

His hands grip your arm, pulling you over his back and slamming you straight onto your back before him. You let out a cough as the wind was knocked out of you, your vision blurring as you tried to refocus on the ceiling above you.

"Shouldn't have fucked with me, Y/N!" He shouts, scrambling to his feet, only to land a harsh kick to your ribcage. You cried out in pain, grabbing your side as you felt his boot shoving against your ribs, and fingers, again.

"I do what I want with my dragon," he grunts, ramming his shoe into your side over and over again. Pain explodes across your body, your fingers cracking beneath his repeated blows.

Black spots begin to fill your vision, the overhead lights blinking out as the last sounds feel your ears. You're blacking out. You're surely blacking out.

You try again to rise, weakly as your arms shake beneath you. It's no use -- his foot connects with your hipbone, sending you right back to the floor. The shouts of your friends, Emetterio's calling, the world around you; it all begins winking out.

Curled onto your side, you heave one last final breath, waiting for the final hit to send you into darkness.

But, it never comes.

You crane your neck, confused as the shouting around you grows louder. Wincing in pain, you make it onto your back, only having to turn your head to watch as the horrific scene unfolds from the other side of the mat.

Tall and terrifying, you watch those familiar scarred hands throw the blonde to the ground, his body literally bouncing in recoil at the impact. Large, tanned muscles yank Jack back up; only to twist his arms behind his back, the angle unnatural.

Your enemy cries out, writing in pain as the wispy black shadows hurl punches of their own at the bastard. Dark, large wings flare behind the male; the talons enough to send anyone away screaming.

"Please... you don't have to do this, I-"

Azriel punches him clean in the jaw, Jack's head jerking as he falls limply to the ground. The growing crowd around the mat erupts, their screams so loud it felt deafening.

You now understood why Azriel hated the sounds here so much.

The black dots clouding your vision increase, your heart rate slowing before you finally black out -- the last thing you see are his familiar leather boots stalking toward you.

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"She's going to be just fine."

The light from the overhead bulbs is blinding as you squint your eyes open, muffled voices and beeps becoming more distinguishable. You blink a few times before everything comes into clear view -- the white operating bed, the heart rate monitor beside you...

...the brooding, winged male in the chair across from you.

"I... what..." you look side to side, taking in the mender watching over you. He begins to grab his things, preparing to leave.

"Your challenge with Mr. Barlowe left you with a few... injuries," he settles on the word lightly. You don't miss his quick glance to Azriel before he continues. "But, not as many as he recieved himself."

You swear there is a hint of a smile behind his words.

"I'll leave you two for a moment."

No sooner than the door shuts behind him, Azriel is on his feet and approaching your bedside, opting to sit next to you on it as he looks down at you. Concern etches his features, underneath the unassuming mask he puts on; then, the memories of what happened start coming back to you.

"Why would you step in like that?" You say angrily, and Azriel huffs.

"Seriously, Y/N? Why would I step in?" He raises his eyebrows. "Maybe because I wasn't comfortable watching the shit get beat out of my girlfriend, that's why." He takes your wrapped hand in his, though his brows still knit on his forehead. "Why didn't you tell me about the fight beforehand?"

You relax your features a little, your heart softening as he rubs small circles against the back of your palm with his thumb. "I didn't think you'd particularly like it, or understand-"

"You're damn right I don't like it." He says, giving your hand a small squeeze. "What would have happened had I not been there?"

His hazel eyes stare right into yours, and you bite your bottom lip. Truly, what would have happened?

"I-I don't know, I guess, Emetterio would have-"

"He wasn't doing shit, Y/N." He sighs, leaning on his elbow to cocoon you in an embrace. He presses a soft kiss to the side of your neck, and you find yourself relaxing a bit more against his warmth.

"I don't like that you have to go through these things." He says after a moment of silence. His voice is softer now, his hand lightly running along your bandaged side. "I don't like to see you hurt-"

"I have to do this though, Az. It's part of training." You turn to face him, wincing in pain as the fresh bandages do little to ease you. "And, I'm much tougher than you think."

A ghost of a smile graces his lips, his rough fingers reaching out to brush a piece of hair out of your eyes.

"I know you are. I just... I don't want anything to happen to you. I love you too much for that."

Your heart practically bursts out of your chest at the sentiment, and in that moment, you snuggle closer to his chest.

"Good thing I have a big, strong male that I love to protect me then."

[kurishiri]

Prologue ┊ The great detective Harrison’s book of incidents

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to narrative flow and characterization purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but please don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— harrison’s promised event, featuring william, ellis, victor, darius, and ring. congrats to our resident peppermint boy for making it to top 5 in the elections!

[CITY - NIGHT]

With clouds the color of lead thickly blanketing the winter sky, a man was running with bated breath.

???: hah... hah...!

Even with little control over his legs and on the verge of tripping, he couldn’t afford to stop.

——He had to run.

If he didn’t avert his eyes from reality, narrowing in on him, he couldn’t live on.

But...here to put an end to the chase was another individual.

Harrison: ——Stop right there.

The voice of the man with peppermint-colored eyes broke through the silence of the night.

And the running man’s shoulders jumped before he came to a stop.

The two men’s white breaths silently melted amid the cold air.

???: ...How did you know where I was?

Harrison: Easy. You left a great many clues in your room.

H: ...I think it’s about time you faced reality, isn’t it.

H: Running away won’t solve anything. Yeah?

???: But... I...! I left everything behind and ran this far now! How could someone like myself ever have a place to return to...

Harrison: Oh, there is a place to return to.

???: ...

Harrison: I’ll tag along in apologizing for neglecting your deadlines.

H: So, that’s why... let’s head back, mister author.

Author with a bed head: ...uuu— Harrisooon~!

(ｏ・_・)ノ��(ノ_<、)

[NIGHT SKY]

Indeed, the man running away was a mystery writer, a deadline hot on his heels.

Meanwhile, the one chasing after him was a man who — under normal circumstances — was responsible for editing in a publishing company...

...and was asked to find the runaway author: a man named Harrison Gray.

[CARRIAGE]

Harrison: I’ve got a message from the company. ‘We will extend the deadline, so don’t stress about it and come back.’

Author with a bed head: Well I sure am grateful for that! ...That said, I’ve reached a bit of a dead end.

Author with a bed head: I want to play around some more with the trick that shows up in the story’s endgame...

Harrison: If you end it as is, the readers will think it’s a great success, if you ask me.

Author with a bed head: The compromise of a writer will be conveyed to the reader as well. I can’t relax until the very end.

Author with a bed head: ...Oh, I know! Harrison, could you come up with some idea?

Author with a bed head: You sometimes share some mystery tricks with authors, don’t you?

Harrison: Unfortunately, I don’t have any such material on me right now.

Author with a bed head: I implore you...! Help me out here, please...!

Harrison: Hah... fine, okay. I figure if you run away again, I’ll have to find you yet again, anyhow.

[DINING ROOM]

Harrison: ——And so, with that, I’d like you guys to let me know if there’s any incident that happens around you, or any strange happenings about.

Liam: And then you’ll go and solve those incidents and come up with an idea for a trick through there!

Harrison: Exactly.

William: Alright then. If there’s anything, I will let the Great Detective Harrison know and have you get to the bottom of it.

Harrison: You seem like the last person who’d need a detective... but well, thanks.

Ellis: Me too, I’ll pay attention to anything that’s going on around me. If it will make you happy, that is.

Liam: Oh, with a detective comes an assistant! I’ll help out, Harry.

Victor: Well then, allow me to fulfill the role of the mysterious heroine who accompanies the detective——

Harrison: ——No need for a heroine. But I will take your assistance, Liam.

Liam: By all and every means!

[TYPEWRITER]

That which is about to be written henceforth is not a record of sin, but the records of six of their encounters with little mysteries.

The truth shall become clear in his hands.

[BLACK]

Now come the tales of the great detective through which not a single lie may escape——Harrison’s book of incidents.

masterlist 🔎 ┊ ko-fi ☕️ ┊ comms 🤍

[venomwrites]

This fic was inspired by both the concept art of Vi using a Kiramman banner as a blanket during the pit fighter era and Caitlyn saying that arrests need cause. Cross Posted to Ao3

“Hey, Cait?”

Caitlyn glances up from her book to see Vi emerging from the bathroom. There’s a frown on her face as she holds the brown bottle of antiseptic in her hand. Caitlyn tries to think of what she could be upset about or what she could need it for. Vi is quiet a lot of the time though. More content right now to sit in front of the fire than to do anything that would get her injured. When she leans against the bathroom frame, all Caitlyn can see is unbroken skin. Her eyes are fixated on the bottle as she turns it over in her hand. Finally Caitlyn cannot take the silence any longer. 

“Yes?” She prods gently, “what is it?”

“Why is this here?” Vi asks in the same tone. 

“It’s antiseptic?” Caitlyn offers, unsure of the question. A brief flash of frustration creases Vi’s face, “it’s usually in the bathroom. Unless there’s somewhere else—“

“No, I mean,” Vi runs her thumb around the cap, “why are you getting your antiseptic from Zaun?”

Something cold creeps up Caitlyn’s spine. Vi’s blue grey eyes remain on her as she stares. Caitlyn swallows tightly, feeling as though she’s been caught doing something naughty. It’s on the tip of her tongue to say that it’s a common antiseptic. One that everyone can get with a few coins. Or she could mention the black market. Even though the label on the bottle says it was made in Piltover, it could have made it’s way there. Slipped past the rows and rows of Enforcers she had positioned on the bridge opening each crate with crowbars. It could have happened. But lying to Vi is not something she can bring herself to do again. Even if the desire lingers like the taste of liquor on her tongue. 

“It was just a few things—“

She’s not expect Vi to look quite so betrayed as she looks down at the bottle. Even though she has every right to feel betrayed. Betrayed and so much worse. But Caitlyn can’t bear the look at this late hour as Vi grips the bottle like a lifeline and looks at her like a threat. She gets out of bed, tightening her robe and coming around to the foot of it. 

“Can I explain?” She asks, “please?” 

Vi nods but doesn’t move. 

“I wanted to have cause for the arrests,” Caitlyn starts, “we investigated everything we could find. Including vandalism.” 

Vi closes her eyes in annoyance. 

“The banner.”

Caitlyn swallows tightly. 

“They said you were using it as a blanket,” Caitlyn forces herself to continue, “living in that room,” her stomach rolls at the memory of the photographs, “I decided every arrest and I saw those pictures—“

“You saw pictures of me?”

It takes all of Caitlyn’s strength to appear collected and nod at the tone in Vi’s voice. She doesn’t blame her. She wouldn’t have wanted anyone to see her in that state either. It was really just two photographs but the story they told still makes Caitlyn’s stomach roll. Vi curled under the banner, somehow impossibly tiny on an already small bed. Then Vi sprawled out on the bed with a bottle by her foot, arm’s strewn about. You could count her ribs in the second picture, even through the filthy window. It had been alarming how quickly she became gaunt. Everything in Caitlyn had screamed at the sight of her state. Screamed for her to run and get her. But then she remembered those photographs were only in her possession because she was in charge of martial law. So she had thrown them into the fire and declined to arrest someone whose only crime was desperation. 

“Yes,” Caitlyn says, “I declined your arrest—“

“How did you recognize me?” Vi cuts in, “only Loris and Jinx recognized me.”

“We slept next to each other for weeks,” Caitlyn points out, “how could I not recognize you?” Vi is quiet so Caitlyn continues, “I declined your arrest but I couldn’t just not do anything.”

Vi is quiet and Caitlyn wonder which insult will come out of her mouth first as she thumbs the label of the bottle. If she’s even going to want to yell at her. In a way, Caitlyn would rather have the yelling than the silence. But she can’t bring herself to interrupt Vi while she digests this latest round of betrayal. All Caitlyn can do is quietly try not to fidget and run through the list. Every time, it makes her cringe. Before Vi came back it was because she had no idea how she got away with it. It felt like so much, like such a risk. After, it was because she had no idea how to explain herself. When Vi was there, it felt woefully inefficient. How did one explain to someone that they betrayed them, abandoned them but also tried to intervene just enough so they wouldn’t die? It sounded impossibly cruel, even to Caitlyn’s ears. 

“So this and what else?” Vi asks finally. Caitlyn looks at her and her eyes slowly move towards her, “all of it?” She asks in a voice that is alarmingly small. 

“No,” Caitlyn says quickly and then winces, “I don’t think—“

But Vi is already on her feet, one hand dragging through her hair and the antiseptic clenched in her fist. Caitlyn knows where her mind is going. Panic thrums under her skin as she tries to correct this in some way that doesn’t have Vi running into the night in her pajamas. 

“It was barely anything,” Caitlyn protests. 

“You kept me alive!” Vi cries, her voice ringing with betrayal, “you—“ she drops back onto the bed next to her, “the whole time it was you.”

“No, of course not,” Caitlyn says quickly, “I hardly did anything. I’m sure a lot of it was Jinx—“

“Tenth stair, third crate, right side of the door,” Vi rattles off. 

Caitlyn presses her lips together. 

“I didn’t want you falling on anything,” she mutters tightly. 

It had to be obvious but not too obvious so it wouldn't get stolen. Vi had to be able to find it but not realize it was left for her. It wasn’t like it was anything terribly extravagant, but it was enough. Coins wrapped in tissues and tucked into cups to look discarded. Bottles of antiseptic. Rolls of wraps and gauze. At least once a month it was a half torn shopping bag arranged to look forgotten but containing menstrual supplies and a few treats. Again it was nothing that would bring attention to itself, nothing that would matter to anyone. Except someone who had never lived alone as an adult. Someone who might not remember how to get a meal that didn’t involve sliding a tray along a line. Vi looks at the antiseptic again and Caitlyn tries to string together something. Anything. But how did one even begin to explain this? She opens her mouth and closes it again when nothing perfect comes to mind. And then she sees the wetness in Vi’s eyes and her stomach drops further. 

“I should—“

“The bag was you as well, wasn’t it?” She says. Caitlyn only barely nods, “Loris said it was a great find and on my birthday,” she shakes her head, “you got me a birthday present.”

“It was your first birthday,” Caitlyn protests.

“You know I hallucinated you?” Vi says. Caitlyn stiffens, “when I was drunk I’d see you. I thought I was going crazy,” she shakes her head, “but you were there the whole time.”

“No,” Caitlyn says quickly, touching Vi’s forearm before she can overthink it, “no, I just couldn’t let you starve—“

“Or get an infection—“ Vi cuts in. 

“I just didn’t want you to die,” Caitlyn mutters. 

“Or not celebrate my birthday,” Vi says, turning the bottle over in her hands. She shakes her head again and looks at Caitlyn, “First time I busted my knuckles in the pit I just kind of figured what the hell,” she says, “I was just gonna leave ‘em. Or be drunk enough for the sting,” she strokes the label with her thumb absently, “I wouldn’t let Loris come up. Even though he asked. Fell flat on my face on the last step,” she shakes her head, “you pour them out yourself?”

Caitlyn fights the urge to melt in embarrassment. 

“I thought you would figure it out if they were full.”

Vi makes a noise of disbelief and Caitlyn looks for something to get her off the bed. It’s a cowards move but that is par for the course with all of this. How many nights did she spend in the bathroom cursing Vi and pouring out antiseptic until it was enough to take care of whatever was wrong with her but not enough for the bottle to look full? Any window of Vi coming back to her was firmly shut while Ambessa breathed down her neck, but she couldn’t just leave her to die. No matter how angry she was, she couldn’t do that. Not when there was a chance she could prevent it. Vi gives her an impossibly fond look and that is all Caitlyn needs to lurch up from the bed. 

“It was the bare minimum,” she says, “anyone would have done it—“

“Cait that’s not true—“

“Stop interrupting me!” She erupts finally. 

Vi pushes herself up. Caitlyn turns to the doorframe, wrapping her arms around herself. This was not what she thought was going to happen tonight. Certainly she thought they would have the conversation some day. But she was hoping for more time before Vi realized she was just as much of a monster inside. Just a little time. Except Vi doesn’t bolt for the door or yell back. She just joins Caitlyn in the entrance to the bathroom, like she has countless times before. When the panic wins and Caitlyn can barely bring herself through the threshold. Like she has any right to be afraid anymore. But Vi sits there and hums as she showers, hums so when Caitlyn sticks her head out she can hear she isn’t about to be attacked. She’s not sure if she can stand Vi humming right now, she doesn’t deserve it. Even less than she did a few hours ago and she didn’t deserve it then. 

“Why are you downplaying saving my life?” Vi asks. 

“I didn’t!” Caitlyn protests, turning around, “that was Loris and Jinx and you,” she tightens her arms, “I had a few bottles of antiseptic dropped where you would find them—“ Vi opens her mouth, “and you were still covered in half infected injuries when we were at the hospital so it didn’t even work.” 

Vi is quiet for a moment but Caitlyn isn’t fooled that she is going to accept what she’s said. 

“The water never went off,” she says, instead of whatever Caitlyn is expecting, “the place had electricity the whole time. I thought it was Loris,” Caitlyn opens her mouth to give the credit to him, “you never stopped paying him.”

Caitlyn shakes her head. 

Vi lets out a trembling breath. 

“You know I pulled down that banner because it was the only warm thing I could find?” She says hoarsely, “the only thing thing that felt safe?” She drums her fingers against the brown glass, “but it wasn’t.”

Caitlyn cringes at the memory of the picture. 

“You were taking care of me the whole time,” Vi says but there’s no anguish in her voice. Just that tone that slips in when something isn’t making sense, “I left you—“

“No I left you,” Caitlyn says, unable to hear her beat herself up about the fight one more time, “I was so angry I didn’t even think about the danger you would be in or how you would react,” she shakes her head, “I know it was nothing but it was all I could do.”

“Hey,” Vi is in front of her suddenly, fingers cupping her cheeks. The bottle rolls across the carpet, “this wasn’t nothing. Not to me.”

Caitlyn can’t help but turn her cheek into the warmth of Vi’s hand as her thumbs brush along her cheekbones. 

“I was still mad,” Caitlyn whispers, steeling herself for the motion to stop. 

But instead she’s greeted by a warm chuckle as it continues. 

“You take care of everyone you’re mad at?” Vi teases, like they both don’t know the answer to that question. 

Caitlyn guides VI’s hands down and clasps them in her own. It used to be so easy to do this. To tell people the perfect thing, to choose her words with such care they would get the desired result. But Vi has always been uniquely good at squirming past the games. She squirms past Caitlyn’s politicians tongue and curls somewhere deep in her chest. The places she’s been told never to truly let people in. But Vi curls there all the same, too far in to every truly be cast out. Even in those dark, awful moments when Caitlyn half wishes she could. When she tells herself it would be better if she could. 

“I knew this was your first time being alone in seven years,” she says softly, “just because we were apart didn’t mean I wanted you to suffer,” she looks down at their joined hands, “when I saw you were, I couldn’t just sit here.”

Vi tugs her fingertips into her palms and tangles their fingers together. She squeezes Cailtyn’s hands until she looks up to see Vi’s bright eyes looking at her. Vi says nothing but she drops her hands and folds her arms around Caitlyn. There’s something about Vi’s embrace that makes her body relax. It used to scare her. The guilt was cloying when Vi hugged her and she felt safe. What right did she have to feel safe when the world had just been destroyed? When they parted ways, one of the most cutting regrets she had was how quickly she ended their embraces. She can’t remember if she told Vi that or if she pieced it together, but now when Vi folds her into an embrace she always tangles a hand in something. Hair, her jacket, some layer so when Caitlyn pulls back there’s a tug that makes her pause. This time it’s her robe and Caitlyn feels her warm, calloused palm settle against her bare shoulder. 

“Thanks for getting me though it,” Vi says softly, lips close to her ear. 

Caitlyn presses her nose to the juncture of Vi’s shoulder and her neck. Vi smells like fresh soap and beeswax and lately her own conditioner. It’s rapidly becoming Caitlyn’s favorite smell in the world. She is stupidly grateful to breathe it in as another truth settles between them. Vi’s thumb rubs against her shoulder as Caitlyn sinks into her embrace. The nerves seem to escape her and she feels impossibly tired as Vi holds her. There’s a soft almost laugh as Vi shifts and slips her arms around her. It’s silly for it to feel so nice to be carried, but Caitlyn relaxes into the easy warmth of the embrace as Vi brings her back to bed. When she goes to pull back, Caitlyn catches her wrist. Vi smiles and slips into bed, wrapping her arms around her again. 

“So how many bottles did you throw?” Vi asks into her shoulder. 

“A lot,” Caitlyn replies, “why do you think the curtains changed color?”

Vi snorts softly against her skin. The notion of Caitlyn getting annoying and tossing around bottles of antiseptic as she tried to figure out how to care for Vi from afar without her realizing doesn’t seem to lessen how Vi feels about the gesture. If anything it makes her snuggle closer to Caitlyn. Her fingers undo the knot of her robe belt so she can be more comfortable before settling on her waist again. 

“Are you mad I didn’t tell you immediately?” Caitlyn asks into the darkness. Vi shakes her head against her neck, “why?"

“Are you mad I figured it out?” Vi asks. Caitlyn shakes her head in return. Vi pushes her hair back and brushes her lips against Caitlyn’s neck, “why would I be mad you saved my life?”

Caitlyn sighs. 

“When you put it like that I sound completely foolish,” she mutters. Vi smiles against her neck, “alight, fair point,” Caitlyn concedes, “I just wish I could have done more.”

“Come on, Cupcake,” she says, pulling her from the miserable thoughts with the nickname, “we both know it wasn’t that easy.”

They’ve played this out a million times before. What if they had emerged from that temple together somehow? What if Vi had been there when Ambessa made her declaration? Each route ends more bloody or sad than the last. War, death, imprisonment, heartbreak—a thousand gruesome fates. None of which end with them tangled in bed picking at wounds and nuzzling kisses over hurts. The best route Caitlyn can think of, the one Vi cajoles from her lips one terrible night, is Salo starting a war that leaves both of them dead. The one truth that seems to ring through is the separation saved both their lives. It’s a trade Vi makes without a second thought and only later does Caitlyn realize it’s because she’s done it before. Every night Caitlyn vows to do everything in her power to make sure she never has to make it again. 

“I’m glad it helped,” Caitlyn whispers, “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad we’re here,” Vi tells her. 

For tonight, that’s more than enough. 

[bruhnze]

Pink Skies - Lucy x Ona

Summary: Nostalgic Luna fic! A slow morning when Lucy Bronze and Ona Battle still both played for Barça. Written cus i miss that era. (Or: Lucy being head over heels in love with her girlfriend.)

Warnings: fluff / smut-ish (suggestive) so MDNI

Wc: 3340

proofread by @pinkygirl28

Wow, Lucy thought, how is she so beautiful?

The sun was already shining through the shutters, filling the room with a soft glow. They were lying in bed in her apartment in Barcelona, but honestly, it felt more like their apartment now.

Ona was here more often than not. Their dogs, Narla and Coco, were sleeping peacefully in the living room. Coco even had his own little bed here.

Details like that made Lucy happy. They were all small ways in which their lives became more and more intertwined

Ona was still fast asleep beside her. It had been a late night after the game. Today they had a free morning before recovery at the club in the afternoon.

She looked over at the alarm clock, there were still a couple hours until it would go off.

Lucy turned to lie on her side, her head propped up on her hand. Ona was facing her, also on her side, her features highlighted pink by the sunlight that peeked through the shutters.

Lucy adored her, loved her. Ona was simply the most beautiful person on the planet, but she loved her besides that too, her kindness, her humor, or her cleverness, she just had everything.

Even now, lying there with dry lips, her hair in a messy bun.. or more like an artistic interpretation of one, and wearing a faded shirt that had seen better days but she refused to throw away because she loved it too much, Ona looked like a dream.

Lucy couldn't understand how she had gotten this lucky, how this was her life now.

Her gaze roamed over Ona’s peaceful face before lingering on her skin, which looked impossibly soft and so kissable.

Her heart swelled as a wave of affection washed over her. She wanted to kiss Ona, to hold her, to somehow convey the overwhelming love that was brimming inside her.

Leaning in, Lucy hovered closer until Ona’s soft breath tickled her face.

She couldn’t resist anymore. She pressed the gentlest kiss to Ona’s cheek, her lips barely grazing her skin.

Ona stirred, letting out a soft groan as she rolled onto her stomach, her face half-buried in her pillow.

Lucy bit her lip, smiling to herself but trying to keep silent.  

With Ona’s face no longer turned toward her, her gaze drifted to the back of Ona’s neck, where a few baby hairs had curled against her skin.

Gently, Lucy reached out, running her fingers lightly down Ona’s spine.

When Ona didn’t stir again, she leaned in and placed a series of soft, featherlight kisses on her neck.

“Luce…” Ona mumbled, her voice rough and muffled by the pillow.

Lucy nestled her face into Ona’s neck, letting her body rest halfway on top of the smaller girl.

She smoothed her hand over the soft skin of Ona’s upper arm and whispered, “Sorry for waking you.”

She’d been awake for a while, first scrolling on her phone, then watching Ona sleep.

Normally, she would’ve gotten out of bed by now, but today she couldn’t bring herself to leave. She wanted to feel her girlfriend close, to soak in this quiet intimacy. Her love for Ona was so intense, so overwhelming, that it almost scared her.

No—it did scare her sometimes.

“How late is it?” Ona murmured, her voice low and sleepy.

Lucy pressed another kiss to Ona’s neck. “Almost eight, baby.”

“Madre mía,” Ona groaned, her words muffled as she buried her face further into the pillow. “Thought we said we’d set the alarm for ten?”

Lucy smiled, nuzzling her face further against Ona’s neck. “We did,” she admitted, placing a soft kiss there. “I know.”

Ona groaned again, her tone somewhere between annoyance and affection. “I’m still tired.”

“Sorry,” Lucy whispered, punctuating the word with a few more kisses against Ona’s skin.

“don’t want sex right now,” Ona mumbled.

Lucy chuckled softly. “That’s not why I woke you up.”

“Then why did you?” Ona sighed, trying to shift but finding herself pinned under Lucy’s weight.

Lucy eased off slightly, giving her some room to move. She smiled as Ona turned towards her. Her face was still sleepy, one eye still closed while the other was half-open.

Leaning in, Lucy began peppering Ona’s face with soft kisses. Ona grumbled softly in protest but didn’t push her away.

“What?” Ona asked, her voice a sleepy mumble.

“I just love you so much,” Lucy whispered. “I’m sorry for waking you. It was an accident.”

“If you love me, let me sleep,” Ona groaned.

“Can I have a kiss first?”

Ona sighed, but leaned in anyway. "Sólo uno," she murmured, her voice barely audible.

Lucy nodded eagerly, her eyes fluttering shut as she closed the gap between them. Their lips met in a soft, lingering kiss, that sent a wave of warmth through Lucy’s chest.

As they pulled apart, she gazed at Ona, her heart racing. I want to give her everything she could ever want, Lucy thought, her eyes soft with adoration.

“Hey,” Lucy began softly, “what’s your favorite breakfast? Like if we go out?”

Ona groaned again, curling back up as if to hide from Lucy’s sudden burst of energy. “Luce…”

“That bakery where Coco peed on the door?” Lucy pressed, tucking a strand of hair behind Ona’s ear.

Ona hummed against the pillow. “Chocolate croissant.”

“Coffee from the apple tart place?”

“Sí,” Ona murmured. “The best coffee.”

“Or a matcha?” Lucy asked, as Ona sometimes joined her in that order.

“Café con leche,” Ona whispered sleepily.

“Or juice from that place Salma showed you?” Lucy pressed, determined to piece together the perfect breakfast plan.

“Luce, I’m sleeping,” Ona groaned tiredly.

“The purple one or the green juice? Or the orange one… you got that once, too.”

“No. Coffee’s better,” Ona mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper.

“But if you were-” Lucy started.

“-blueberries,” Ona interrupted, her tone bordering on exasperation. “Please, I want to sleep.”

Lucy chuckled softly. “Okay, you know what? I’ll walk the dogs and let you sleep a bit longer. After that, we can go out for breakfast before heading to the club.” She pressed one last kiss to Ona’s temple before slipping out of bed.

Ona didn’t even respond, she was already back asleep.

..

As Lucy stepped outside with the dogs, she paused, taking in the breathtaking sky. A perfect gradient of pinks and oranges painted the horizon, and she couldn’t resist stopping to snap a picture. The world just felt so much brighter when you were in love, or maybe it was just the beauty of this morning. She sent the picture to her mom with a ‘Good morning’ and then followed it up with a ‘Love you, miss you.’ smiling to herself as she sent it. Life was beautiful.

Lucy’s plan was to surprise Ona with breakfast at home, instead of heading out to one of their usual spots, she decided to walk by all their favorite places and pick up everything Ona liked most.

A chocolate croissant for Ona, a regular one for herself from the little bakery.

From the most recent place they'd visited together, the one Ona had taken her to a couple of days after she’d gone with her friends, she grabbed a blue juice for Ona and a green one for herself. She liked the blue one too but chose the green one just in case Ona wanted to switch.

Lastly, she passed the coffee shop, where she ordered a matcha for herself and a coffee for Ona. The barista greeted her and the dogs with a smile, and they chatted for a moment before Lucy took the to-go cups in a carton holder and made her way back home.

She was grateful that Narla and Coco weren’t leash pullers, because she had her hands full of stuff.

Opening the door was a bit of a struggle, but she managed, and as expected, the house was still quiet. She kicked off her shoes and hung her jacket on the hook.

First, she filled Narla and Coco’s bowls with kibble, then made her way to their bedroom with the breakfast.

She stood there for a moment, watching Ona, who was lying on her side of the bed. Ona had always said she loved that Lucy’s spot was warm and smelled like her. 

Lucy gently placed the breakfast on the bedside table beside Ona and quickly peeled off her jeans before climbing back into bed.

She snuggled close, feeling the warmth of Ona’s body.

As soon as Ona stirred and shifted to face her, Lucy smiled.

"Where were you?" Ona murmured, still half-asleep.

"Walked the dogs?" Lucy chuckled softly. "I told you."

"Did you?" Ona groaned, rubbing her eyes. "I don’t remember."

Lucy couldn’t help but laugh. "Did you get a little more sleep, at least?" she asked, brushing a strand of hair from Ona’s face, smiling as the strand of hair fell back infront of her face again.

"Yes," Ona yawned, her eyes still heavy with sleep. "Was the walk nice?"

Lucy smiled warmly, cupping Ona’s cheek with one hand. "Yes, it was," she replied. "The sky was pretty… I made a picture, do you want to see?"

‘’Mhm,’’

Lucy opened her phone gallery, scrolling to the picture she had taken earlier, and held it out to Ona. "Look," she said softly, her voice warm with excitement.

Ona rubbed her eyes, sitting up slightly against the headboard, her hair falling messily around her face as she blinked at the screen. "Mmm very pretty," she murmured, her voice still thick with sleep. "you should send it to your mom."

"Ah I did," Lucy laughed, settling herself beside Ona. "did I tell you she loves pictures of the sky?" she asked with a laugh.

Ona nodded smiling, leaning into Lucy’s shoulder as she handed the phone back. "Mhm, you said," she whispered. "It’s a nice picture, I bet she’ll love it."

‘’Mhm,’’ Lucy agreed.

Lucy turned her head to press a kiss to Ona’s temple, her lips lingering for a moment. "Well," she said, her tone turning playful as she pulled back slightly, "you don’t remember, apparently, but we said we’d get breakfast when you were awake."

Ona frowned in mock confusion, tilting her head as she studied Lucy’s face. "Did we?"

Lucy laughed softly, brushing the strand of hair out of Ona’s face again. "Yeah, but I actually wanted to surprise you instead."

"Surprise me?" Ona’s voice held a hint of curiosity now, her sleepiness beginning to fade.

Lucy nodded, her smile widening. "Yep," she said as she swung her leg off the bed and reached over to grab the paper bag she had set down earlier. She placed it on the bed between them.

"First," Lucy said, opening the bag, and showing Ona, "a chocolate croissant from that bakery you love. The one where Coco peed on the door." She grinned as she handed it to Ona.

"Stop calling it that.’’ Ona rolled her eyes but smiled, her cheeks dimpling as she took the smaller paper bag containing her croissant. ‘’Coco just wanted to claim his spot, he knows what good places are.’’

Lucy laughed, then pulled out another bag. "And a croissant for me."

Ona smiled, as Lucy reached for the next item besides her.

"Next," Lucy announced, holding up two plastic cups, "a blue juice for you, and a green juice for me. Or the other way around if you rather have this one."

Ona’s eyes sparkled as she set her croissant down to take the juice, immediately taking the straw out of its wrapper and putting in. "Mmm, you’re the best," she said before taking a sip. ‘’I was craving this one, the blueberries.’’

Lucy’s grin grew as she held up the last two items. "And finally, coffee for you, and matcha for me. From the one café where the woman is who loves Narla and Coco.. she gave me an apple tart again." She handed Ona the coffee.

Ona took the cup and set it on her, well Lucy’s, bedside table. "I love this suprise," she said happily, ‘’I cant believe you went to three places for this.’’

Lucy shrugged, though her cheeks turned slightly pink. "Just wanted to make you happy."

Ona leaned over, pressing a kiss to Lucy’s cheek. "You do," she said simply.

Lucy chuckled.

After they’d drank half of their juices Ona took the croissant out of its bag. ‘’Ohh its still warm,’’ she gushed. ‘’Oof we really shouldn’t be eating this in bed, we’re going to have crumbs.’’

Lucy nodded, ‘’mhm, but I think the bed was due for a change anyways.’’

Ona hummed agreeingly, hovering over the bag with the croissant as she leaned in to take a bite.

Lucy smiled as she looked at Ona taking a bite of her croissant.

Ona moaned, closing her eyes as she chewed. "Mmm, esto es mejor que el sexo."

Lucy chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "Oof, I’d hope I’m better than a pastry."

Ona looked up, confused. "Huh?"

"Better than sex," Lucy laughed. "You just said, ‘Mmm, this is better than sex.’"

Ona rolled her eyes and let herself fall back onto the bed, laughing. "It’s just a saying."

"I know," Lucy teased, smiling. "I was kidding."

"Mhm," Ona said, taking another bite. Then, with a cheeky grin, she added, "But no, it’s not better than that… Some sí. With you, no."

Lucy grimaced, half-joking, half-genuinely uneasy at the mention of Ona’s past experiences.

Ona noticed, laughed, and set her food aside. She leaned in, covering the top half of Lucy’s face with her hand, before kissing her. "We make good sex," Ona said in her heavily accented English, pulling back with a satisfied smile.

Lucy didn’t want to correct her, but Ona had asked her to tell her if she was saying things wrong. So Lucy tried to gently correct her, "Have." She pressed another kiss to Ona’s lips. "It’s ‘have sex,’ not ‘make sex.’"

"¿Qué?" Ona tilted her head.

"It’s ‘have,’ not ‘make,’" Lucy explained, her tone playful. "You said you wanted me to help improve your English, remember?"

"ghave? No," Ona shook her head stubbornly. "Make."

"It’s definitely ‘have,’ trust me," Lucy insisted, her grin growing.

Ona looked skeptical until, after a moment, realization hit. "Ohhh, no, no, I know, I know!"

Lucy chuckled, waiting for her to explain.

"Ugh, I can’t remember... Wait," Ona said, snapping her fingers. "Make… it’s in that one song!"

Lucy looked even more confused. "What song?"

Ona hummed for a moment, searching her memory before softly singing, "‘You’re the one that I desire... ahh!’" She laughed triumphantly. "I know! ‘When we wake up, and then we make love.’"

‘’Ahh,’’ Lucy chuckled, ‘’well yes, make love or have sex.’’

"ohh," Ona nodded, a twinkle in her eye. "you were right too, it’s ghave sex.. I thought about the other."

Lucy had never known she had a thing for accents.. she thought she didn’t, but surely it wasn’t normal to get this amount of butterflies from someone talking.

Lucy couldn’t hide her grin. There was something about Ona talking, the way her words rolled imperfectly but perfectly into place. It made her heart flutter.

"It’s both different things, though" Ona said quietly, her cheeks pink, pulling Lucy from her thoughts.

Lucy looked at the cute blush that appeared on Ona’s cheeks, ‘’what do you mean?’’ she asked, even though she could guess what Ona meant.

Ona let her head fall against Lucy’s shoulder. "You know what I mean... they both mean a little bit different things."

‘’Mhm,’’ Lucy chuckled, ‘’I know that, but what does it mean for you?’’

"For me?" Ona tilted her head, her brows furrowing.

"Yeah," Lucy said, curious, ‘’what do the two things mean for you?’’

Ona narrowed her eyes at Lucy suspiciously, ‘’you are testing me? or you are curious?’’

Lucy shook her head, ‘’curious, ofcourse babe, I told you, I think your English is good, I’d never make fun of you."

Ona tilted her head and squinted at her.

"Okay, okay," Lucy admitted, holding her hands up, ‘’sometimes I maybe repeat what u say, but that’s only because I find it adorable.’’

"You tease me," Ona pouted.

"I don’t, babe," Lucy said, shaking her head and pulling Ona onto her lap. "Your English is better than my Spanish. I’d be a hypocrite."

"I lived in England for three years," Ona countered, playing with Lucy’s hair, ‘’this is only your second year here.’’

‘’Hmm maybe,’’ Lucy smiled, her hands resting on Ona’s hips, ‘’but can you answer my question now,’’ she pouted, ‘’I’m curious what it means for you.’’

Ona shook her head with a small smile, leaning over to grab her juice from the nightstand.

Lucy looked at her, puzzled. "What, are you shy?"

Ona nodded, sipping her juice and keeping eye contact, her cheeks flushing even more.

"Why?"

Ona thought for a moment before answering softly. "Because only now I know the difference."

"What?" Lucy frowned.

‘’I used to think they were just meaning the same thing, like.. uh… synonyms.. but you made me realize what they sing about in songs..’’ Ona bit her lip, trying to explain. ‘’we,’’ she blushed furiously, as her voice trailed off, ‘’we.. I guess we make love.. most of the times at least.’’

Lucy smiled as it started to make sense.

"It’s not only… lust?" Ona tried to find the words. "Es más que… desire. Not solo del orgasm."

‘’I understand what you mean,’’ Lucy smiled, her hands moving to Ona’s thighs, ‘’its about the connection.. hmm I don’t know if its an actual thing but I would call it - emotional intimacy?’’  

Ona nodded, ‘’sí.’’ She set her juice back on the nightstand.

‘’And do you like that?’’ Lucy chuckled.

Ona giggled, hiding her face in the crook of Lucy’s neck. Ona’s muffled voice came from where her face was hidden. "You already know I do, so why do you ask?"

Lucy smirked, kissing the side of her head. "Because I want to hear you say it."

Ona pulled back slightly, a playful smirk on her lips. "I love it.

A wicked grin pulled at the corners of Lucy’s mouth.

‘’Don’t let it go to your head." Ona said, rolling her eyes with a laugh.

Lucy grinned. "Too late."

Ona shook her head, but she couldn’t stop smiling. Truthfully, cocky Lucy was one of her favorite things.

‘’No but seriously,’’ Lucy said, looking at Ona genuinely, ‘’I feel that too, you brought it to words really well actually.’’

Ona smiled at the compliment, ‘’yeah?’’

Lucy nodded earnestly, ‘’mhm.’’

Ona reached out, her fingers lightly tracing the ink on Lucy’s wrist. The gentle motion sent a tingle through Lucy’s skin, and her breath hitched when Ona’s thumb lingered over the curve of the design. “I love you,” Ona murmured, her voice soft as if she were sharing a secret.

Lucy smiled, her heart swelling. “I love you too.”

Ona smiled, leaning in and brushing her lips against Lucy’s in a kiss so soft it felt like a whisper.

Lucy’s hand instinctively cupped Ona’s cheek, keeping her close.

When she pulled back, Ona’s gaze lingered, “this would be a moment like that.”

“Like what?” Lucy asked breathlessly, her voice catching as Ona’s lips ghosted over her own again, teasing and tantalizing.

‘’That we would make love,’’ Ona said, keeping eye contact.

Lucy’s heart hammered in her chest, a shiver trailing down her spine. This girl was going to be the death of her someday, and honestly, she wouldn’t want it any other way.

"Are you going to keep talking about it," Lucy began, her voice just a little breathless, "or are you going to show me?"

The words sounded bolder in her head, but as they left her lips, they carried a nervous tremor that made Ona smile knowingly.

Ona might be shy sometimes, but in moments like this, she knew she had Lucy wrapped around her finger - and she enjoyed every second of it.

...

I hope you enjoyed this fic, if u have some time, please feel free to tell me what you thought of it :)

[the song that Ona quoted was 'Best part' - H.E.R. ]

the song below is the title

[jack-kellys]

so we all know life is a circle. thus fandom is a circle. we see things come back around like the de/twinkification of racetrack higgins. or cowboy versus artist jack kelly. or "mom" friend david jacobs and the perpetual need to make the newsies some kind of heteronormative family. and yet again we've found our way back to the anti katherine pulitzer arc of her "getting in the way" of jack and davey's popular subtextual/fanon relationship. (yes im late nevermind that.)

now, not being a katherine fan is different than being anti-katherine. not being a katherine fan means you might have criticisms like "i'm not sure how she serves the newsies narrative better than, say, sarah jacobs, as sarah is more aligned with the newsies contextually/societally and katherine is very distant and rich lol", or even "i'm not a big fan of how katherine seems to be tired of jack's shit for most of the play and then 'suddenly' finds romantic interest in him within one song".

but being anti-singular-young-woman-character because of a ship between the main two boys is. a tired take is it not? again with the circle, we've had this discourse already and its been cut out. since 2012 and 2017 we been talking about this girl and her value, but not in the context we should be.

(because the context we should be talking about it in is a newsies 1992 versus newsies broadway context, not an anti-katherine context, but i digress.)

katherine's value. what is there to mine from? she is an extremely young woman reporter, 17-18 years old, whose article makes the front page of the new york sun. since she writes under a pseudonym, i'm presuming she writes with skill well above her age to be published at all (yes, even writing vaudeville reviews). in past productions she either finds the newsies at jacobi's because she saw the walk-out (TWWK) from inside The World (UK), or jack kelly simply interests her enough for her to seek him out again (Broadway/Tour/Live). she is unsure about herself as a writer despite her skill which is made clear in her song. she is rich. she did not need to have a career and was encouraged not to. pulitzer is her father and she does not get along with him. she matches jack word for word, often with davey at her side. she mills comfortably about the newsies through the second act and has a friendship of some kind with specs specifically. she also literally says "that's a face [jack's] that could save us all from sinking in the ocean/like someone said 'power tends to corrupt'" essentially prophesying the act 2 betrayal. which is crazy.

you can draw your own conclusions from the above, but all of it is essentially canon? right? so maybe you don't have to be a fan of all of it, but you're really going to tell me absolutely none of this is compelling. that none of this is something you can interpret for yourself as complex. that albert is more complex.

this is not me saying you have to include katherine in everything, because that isn't what this post is about. this is about individuals choosing to dislike or devalue katherine by only viewing her in relation to her as a romantic interest, instead of a complex character in a period piece with a full arc. yes a full arc. it's the musical that's rushed not katherine.

@we-are-inevitable speaks on this extremely well in the comments of this post as well, more in connection to katherine as being a compelling romantic interest in the context of newsies speaking in the defense of love interests/often women characters. in this post i speak on how i would navigate jack/katherine as a director, and in this post i speak on how to direct something to believe in to make it, well, believable, aside from its awful writing for both kath and jack. because again, fandom is a circle, and i literally talked about how to "fix" jatherine in august 2024. at length

[mj-iza-writer]

Could you please write some absolute fluff between wumpee and caretaker?

I just want to see them happy!

Caretaker looked up from their computer.

Whumpee stood in front of them with a sad look on their face.

"I thought you were going to take a nap", Caretaker questioned.

"I tried, but it's no use. I'm so tired, but I can't get comfortable enough", Whumpee sighed sadly.

"Do you want me to help. I'm pretty good at getting you to fall asleep", Caretaker smiled, "I consider it a specialty now."

"If you think you can. I would really appreciate it", Whumpee rubbed their eyes, "I just want to sleep."

"Alright", Caretaker closed their computer and rubbed their hands together, "let's get started."

"First things first... make sure Whumpee is in comfy clothing. In which you are", Caretaker stood, "I'll be right back. You can get situated on the couch."

Whumpee nodded.

Caretaker came back with a blanket and Whumpee's teddy bear.

"Next step", Caretaker handed the bear to Whumpee and covered them with the blanket, "get you under a cozy blanket. This one has a little weight in it. This will help sooth your restless body."

Whumpee rested their head on a pillow once Caretaker had them all tucked in.

"Alright", Caretaker knelt down and played with Whumpee's hair.

Whumpee grinned after a few minutes, "that's not fair. How did you do that?", they yawned.

"I'm just skilled", Caretaker chuckled, "I also know you are good as gone once I get you tucked into a blanket."

"I was under a blanket in my room for sixty minutes tossing and turning. I think you put a spell on me or something", Whumpee complained as their eyes grew heavier and heavier.

"Well, I guess we can call it Caretaker magic", Caretaker whispered.

"Hmm", Whumpee's eyes fluttered shut.

Caretaker continued to massage through Whumpee's hair.

"Thankyou.... Caretaker", Whumpee mumbled when their eyes opened again.

"You're welcome", Caretaker fixed the blanket a little. Their eyes sparkled as Whumpee's breathing started to grow heavy.

"Works every time", Caretaker laughed quietly as they got up.

Whumpee let out a long deep sigh.

Caretaker opened their computer and sat on the couch again. They needed to try to get some more work done before Whumpee woke up.

Caretaker's head fell a few times while they worked.

"I guess the Caretaker magic worked a little too well", they sighed as they closed their computer.

Caretaker got up and grabbed a blanket.

"I guess this afternoon activity is nap time", Caretaker covered themself up and pulled out the stool of their chair as quietly as possible.

Whumpee squinted, their eyes opened when they heard something loud.

They looked around until they noticed Caretaker on the other side of the couch.

Whumpee smiled, then rested their head on the pillow again. They fell back asleep after a few minutes of listening to Caretaker snore.

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath

@porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst

@generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened

@freefallingup13 @notpeppermint

@cyborg0109 @idontreallyexistyet

@painfulplots @whumpbump

@everythingsscary @skittles-the-whumpee

@expressionless-fr @theforeverdyingperson

@legendarydelusiongoatee @candleshopmenace

@whumpanthems @lavndvrr

@ivymyers @starfields08000

@a-living-canvas @lumpofsand

@watermeezer @indigoviolet311

@whumpy-mountains @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe

@whumprince @kaz-of-crows

@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94

@sausages-things @castiels-favorite-hunter

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald

@jasperthecapser @does-directions

@deafeninglittlecrown @jumpywhumpywriter

@blackbirdsinatrenchcoat @mylifeisonthebookshelf

@thenormalestever @whatwhump

@galatic-worm @starmoon-constellation

@bacillusinfection @whumpsandbumps

@tobiasbones @octopus-reactivated

@string-of-broken-hearts @weirdthingweee

[midnightwind]

you guys like me going off on random DA tangents and musings, right?? because I've been awake too long so you're getting another one

I have been sat here trying to figure out Why Lucanis' prison looks like a bunch of ice and why it was so far away from the "lab" settings for a while now. (arguably two rooms fit this description, the one where Lucanis tells you about Zara and the one right outside his phylactery room) Like, even without that bridge being broken, it's in such a bizarre corner of the Ossuary. And I mean, it wouldn't really matter with a normal prisoner, but Lucanis was a notorious Crow and mage killer on top of that, plus he was Zara's special little guy to fuck with. You would not want to take him for a long walk to experience the worst shit on earth every few days. Maybe it's close enough to the little room where he mentions Zara and maybe she wanted him close to the door so she didn't have to go far to torture him, but again, leaving such a challenging subject close to the exit seems like a bad choice. You want him to have to get through so many guys and doors before escaping so you have time to take him down.

This also ignores the magic required to leave, but they're not clear on what that is and not all the Venatori are mages so there's gotta be a mundane way out he could snatch off a guard. I digress, the whole ice cage and far off room doesn't make sense. But we know they were shipping demons to Zara. (I'm pretty sure the few demons you confront in Minrathous were Zara's little pets set loose so we can assume she wanted them in the capital for the eventual Venatori coup on the crown) If Zara was about to be stuck in Minrathous for the foreseeable future, setting things into motion for Elgar'nan, I could see her wanting her pet Crow at her side. Especially if you consider the initial idea for Lucanis: he was going to be a mind controlled murder puppet before you break him out.

Sure, Spite didn't crack open his ribcage and crawl out like some new horror, but having a demon in Lucanis lets her control him via the phylactery if not just outright with her blood magic. Maybe his will was too strong for mundane control, but the phylactery works. We know it works based off of Lucanis' dialogue about it. So we know she had a surefire way to keep him under control. (There's a whole other post exploring the amount of dead Venatori and the fact that Lucanis still has his leathers and weapons [which would make sense if he was Zara's murder puppet, but alas] and whether Lucanis recently made a break for it or if the loose demons/spirits/undead killed them all) Maybe he kept his leathers because Zara wanted him presentable upon delivery, I don't know.

But I do think he was being prepped to move. The Ossuary is falling apart, Zara is pulling all the best results, they're losing personnel and servants without being given more; Zara was clearly moving on from that location. But she wanted her little Antivan prize. He's too dangerous to move normally, a Crow is likely to escape if given an inch especially a skilled one like Lucanis, so they need to lock him down somehow. Ropes and chains aren't reliable, not with a Crow, but he's not a mage. You can use magic. You can literally put him on ice. I think they were packaging him up in an ice cube and doing it next(ish) to the door so they could more easily move him. I think Zara was going to take him and his phylactery to Minrathous and use him to cause some absolutely ruthless mayhem in the city before her cult took it over.

I think Rook showing up weakened the spell being cast just enough for Lucanis and Spite to break out, and I think it saved a whole lot of lives.

[kathlare]

taste

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie navigates a moment of frustration after stumbling upon online gossip about her ex, Lando, and his rumored new romance.

Wordcount: 1.5 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

August 19th, 2023 - New York City, NY

liked by f1gossipgirl, wags_f1, and others

landoupdates: Lando spotted living it up in Ibiza with Portuguese model Magui Corceiro during summer break! 🌴🍹👀.

View all 483 comments

amelie4ever: Y’all, bring back the Amelie and Lando era. This ain’t it. → lando_obsessed: @amelie4ever Fr, we traded peak wholesome vibes for this Ibiza nonsense 💔 → lanmelie_sunshine: @amelie4ever Can’t believe he fumbled the literal QUEEN for... this.

f1tea_spill: Okay but are we sure this isn’t just a PR stunt? 👀 → gridgossip88: @f1tea_spill PR or not, I’m TIRED of this man acting like a walking red flag 🚩

magui_not_it: I’m sorry but MAGUI?! Out of all the people?? Lando, sweetie, no.

wicked4amelie: Y’all, remember when he used to simp HARD for Amelie on streams? I miss THAT Lando. → landoluvr88: @wicked4amelie The "Lanelie compilations" era hits harder now. 😭

mclarenmeltdown: I SWEAR if he’s actually dating Magui, I’m uninstalling this app. → lando_fanatic: @mclarenmeltdown Nah, sis, we’re ALL about to block him at this point.

amelie_supremacy: Can’t believe I used to root for this man. Amelie deserves SO much better.

f1teaqueen: NOT MAGUI AGAIN 😭😭 Lando really said "let me ruin my reputation this summer" 💀

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

The New York heat pressed against the windows of the rented studio, the kind that made the air feel heavy, like a humid blanket. Amelie sat cross-legged on the couch, her phone clutched in one hand, her jaw clenched as she scrolled through Instagram. The post had popped up out of nowhere, another notification from a gossip page she’d never followed but whose posts always managed to find her.

“Lando spotted living it up in Ibiza with Portuguese model Magui Corceiro during summer break!”

The caption was enough to send her stomach into knots, but the photo was what did her in. Lando sat in a club booth, his signature grin faintly visible as he leaned over to chat with someone she couldn’t make out. Magui, meanwhile, sat close beside him, her legs crossed and her phone in her hand. She looked effortlessly beautiful, like she knew the cameras were there.

Amelie tossed her phone onto the cushion beside her, leaning back with a frustrated groan. It wasn’t jealousy, not exactly. She was long past hoping for some grand romantic reunion with Lando, not after how they’d ended things and the fights that followed. But Magui? That was a name that still burned.

Rozzi walked in, carrying two iced coffees and a bag of pastries, her eyes immediately landing on Amelie’s face. —Oh no,— she said, setting everything down on the small studio table. —What happened? Who pissed you off?—

Amelie gestured toward her phone without a word. Rozzi picked it up, her eyebrows knitting together as she read the caption. —Ibiza, huh? Well, that’s a choice.—

—Right?— Amelie said, exasperated. —It’s not even about him being with someone... it’s her. She’s... God, she’s so fake, Roz. And the fact that she’s still hanging around after all the shit she pulled, ugh.—

Rozzi handed her an iced coffee, sitting down beside her. —Okay, so what are you gonna do about it? Besides glaring at your phone like it personally insulted you.—

Amelie took a sip, the coldness of the drink cutting through the heat in her chest. —I’m not doing anything about it. It’s not worth it.—

Rozzi gave her a pointed look. —You’re lying. I know that look. That’s your ‘I’m gonna channel this into something destructive but artistic’ face.—

Amelie smirked despite herself. Rozzi knew her too well. —Fine. Maybe I’ll write something. I mean, I’m here, right? Might as well use it.—

Rozzi grinned, reaching over to grab her acoustic guitar, which had been resting in the corner. —That’s what I like to hear. Let’s make this a masterpiece of pettiness. You wanna start with the hook or just rant your way through it first?—

Before Amelie could answer, Amy walked into the studio, her energy filling the room like a breath of fresh air. —What’s the vibe today? Drama? Sad girl anthem? Revenge banger?—

Amelie and Rozzi exchanged a look, then burst into laughter. —Revenge banger, definitely,— Rozzi said, tossing the phone to Amy. —Here, this is today’s inspiration.—

Amy glanced at the post, her eyebrows raising slightly before she handed the phone back. —Oh, this one’s gonna be fun. Alright, Amelie, where’s your head at?—

Amelie stood up, pacing the length of the small studio as she spoke, her voice steady but laced with underlying irritation. —I just... it’s not even about him. It’s about the audacity. She had the nerve to DM me when they were together, saying all this bullshit about how I was trying to steal him or that I couldn’t let go of him. And now, here she is, acting like she’s some perfect accessory to his life. It’s laughable.—

Amy nodded thoughtfully, her fingers already fiddling with the keyboard in the corner. —Okay, so we want something sharp. Taunting, maybe? Like, a ‘you’re in my shadow, and you’ll never be me’ kind of vibe?—

—Exactly,— Amelie said, her eyes lighting up. —I don’t want it to sound bitter, though. It needs to feel confident. Like, yeah, I know you hate me because I’ll always be in the picture, whether you like it or not.—

Rozzi strummed a few chords, the melody playful yet cutting. —How about something like this? It’s got that cocky energy but leaves room for the lyrics to really hit.—

Amelie nodded, humming along until a phrase popped into her head. —"Oh, I leave quite an impression, five feet to be exact..."— She paused, turning to Rozzi. —What do you think? It’s like, yeah, I’m small, but I’m unforgettable.—

—Love it,— Amy said, jotting it down. —What’s next? Something about how he can’t shake you, no matter what?—

Amelie smiled wickedly, her mind already racing. —"You’re wonderin’ why half his clothes went missin’, my body’s where they’re at."— She laughed as the words spilled out. —Petty enough?—

Rozzi’s jaw dropped. —That’s gold. Keep going.—

The next hour flew by, the three of them bouncing ideas off each other like they were in perfect sync. Amelie’s emotions poured out into every line, her frustration giving way to amusement as the song began to take shape. They leaned into the taunts, crafting a narrative that was unapologetically bold and dripping with confidence.

Amy played around with the track’s beat, layering in a sultry bassline that matched the teasing tone of the lyrics. —This is gonna be dangerous,— she said, grinning. —The kind of song you scream in the car with your friends.—

Amelie took the mic, testing out the melody with a smirk on her face. —"I heard you’re back together, and if that’s true, you’ll just have to taste me when he’s kissin’ you..."—

Rozzi whooped, throwing her head back in laughter. —Oh, she’s gonna hate this. And it’s perfect.—

As the song came together, Amelie found herself letting go of the tension she’d been carrying. By the time they reached the bridge, she was fully leaning into the catharsis of it all. —"Every time you close your eyes and feel his lips, you’re feelin’ mine. And every time you breathe his air, just know I was already there."—

Amy looked up from the console, shaking her head in admiration. —You’re savage, Am. This might be one of my favorites.—

They wrapped up the recording late that evening, the final version of Taste feeling like a triumph. Amelie leaned back in her chair, her body buzzing with the rush of creation.

Rozzi nudged her shoulder. —Feel better?—

Amelie shrugged, but her smile gave her away. —A little. It’s not like it changes anything, but... yeah. It feels good to take something shitty and turn it into something that’s mine.—

Amy grinned. —Well, whatever it is, this song is gonna light a fire under someone’s ass. And that’s the best kind of art.—

As they packed up for the night, Amelie glanced at her phone one last time. The gossip page was still there, but the knot in her stomach was gone. She smiled to herself, knowing that while the world might be watching him, soon they’d be hearing her.

[faithlia]

⋆｡˚ Jᥙᥒ᥆ ୧˚｡⋆

english ins't my first lenguage.

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, kind of friends to lovers.

a/n: this was a request for a sequel to something about you, however, this story doesn't tell much about what happened in its premise, although it has the same characters and their respective interests. also I'm so sorry for the delay, I've been very busy lately, but I hope you like it 💓

"you're make me wanna falling in love" - sabrina carpenter.

I don't know how to react to this or how to talk about it. After a series of meaningless flirtations and arousal-ridden insistence, I have Matt sitting on my living room floor, pretending he knows how to put the puzzle together properly. It's what? Eleven o'clock at night? Maybe he won't be leaving anytime soon.

I'm intrigued and anxious about what might happen if he comes over to my place. He wants to fuck me, and I know it; I have no objections to it, just thoughts of endless possibilities. I mean, I can't help myself, hormones are high.

When we arrive, I thought he was going to grab me and I would forget everything to focus on the moment, but that's not what happened.

I grab two glasses of wine, taking them to him in short steps.

"Thanks", he says as he reaches for the drink. I sit a little closer to him, but on the couch, watching him sort the pieces out to line them up in their proper place.

“How long have you been putting this together?” he asks, pointing with his finger.

“I don’t know. I think it’s been about two days,” I say. I really don’t know where I got the patience to put together a puzzle with a thousand tiny pieces, but the idea seems brilliant. “It helps me relax,” I sigh. I drink some more wine and then find myself staring at the empty glass – like a professional drunk.

Seriously? You relax with that?" He downs the rest of his wine, looking at me with slanted eyes.

"Of course I do," I say, smiling like an idiot. It seems that half a glass of wine is enough for me to feel comfortable with each leg on either side of his body. He doesn't mind; in fact, he even drops his head back - right into my lap.

"I can't imagine you relaxing; You're always so anxious about everything." He looks at me with such serene eyes that I have to make sure that it's not a figment of my imagination and that his eyes and expression aren't the most attractive thing I've ever seen.

"I think I'm pretty relaxed now." It's not entirely a lie, but part of me feels like my heart is almost in my mouth. I bite my lip and dare to run my hands through his messy hair; it's soft, but at the same time it looks like he hasn't washed it. I don't think he's the kind of guy who spends time worrying about what products to put in his hair. It makes me want to wash his hair like he's a doll, which is kind of weird.

"Okay," he says. He sighs and closes his eyes, feeling very comfortable, and I like that. Little by little, a feeling settles in my chest, and I don't think so much about what might happen. Of course, yes, I really want to kiss him, because his mouth is so attractive, and everything about him makes me surrender to a simple touch or a bold tilt.

Without thinking, I start to trace his face with the tip of my finger, delicately. He doesn't open his eyes and this allows me to be more evasive, pinching the tip of his nose lightly.

"Wow" I say, laughing.

"What is it?", he asks, still with his eyes closed, settling his head more into my lap.

"It's just... Have you noticed that your nose is really big?", I think I'm drunk because this is the first time I've said something about his appearance. It's not an insult, but rather something that has always strangely attracted me to him.

Contrary to what I thought, Matt laughed.

"Fuck you", he says. I lean a little closer to his face and say, "I like it. I find it quite... useful." I smack my lips and Matt opens his eyes. Damn, again those damn eyes so beautiful they look like they're going to eat me alive.

Now everything seems sneaky. He whispers to me, "Really?", knowing exactly what I mean. And before I can say anything else, he pulls my head down and kisses me. It's a sloppy kiss, but neither of us cares. He caresses the back of my neck and lifts his body up to take my lips. The feeling of his mouth on mine is delicious. I feel like I'm Spider-Man wearing pink panties

Matt lets out a moan and it drives me crazy. I pull away from him from the discomfort of being so bent over.

"That was our first kiss", I point out.

"Yeah" he nods, turning to face me — still between my legs. "Was it good?" he asks, so relaxed that it makes me comfortable with what we just did.

I lick my lips and say "Yeah" too, but the sound is more like a moan.

"Do you want to do it again?" he raises his eyebrows suggestively.

"I do!", and that's absolutely true. "But I know where this is going," I think out loud. For some reason, I'm not reluctant to tell him what I'm thinking. Maybe the nervousness went away when I started drinking, and that's fine with me. I like to tell him what I think and I don't think he minds. I think he likes being teased by my words – especially since I like it when he does it to me.

"What? Sex?", he gives me a wicked smile. And looks directly at my breasts.

"Yes!", I lean back on the couch, feeling the softness of the upholstery. "And what's the problem, I thought you wanted it", he looks at me like a puppy. I move my hand to stroke his hair again.

"I don't know. Won't it be weird?" I ask, thinking about an idea that has crossed my mind many times.

"Why would it be weird?" he asks back and now we're playing this little game that I kind of like. I shrug and he's quiet for a while. "We don't have to have sex if you don't want to", he says, lowering his gaze to between my legs.

"Okay",I say it like I'm not dying to have him. I think he wants to eat me out and I wouldn't deny it, I'd just be annoying enough to make him tired of trying. "Are you upset?" I ask.

This isn't the first time you've said no to me," I smile at that and he drags his hand up my thigh. "I want to wash your hair," I say and he rolls his eyes. "What? I really want to!"

"Do you want to give me a bath too?" I do, but I don't need to say it.

"Well, if it's to wash your hair..." I won't say it directly.

He shakes his head and sighs heavily, thinking about what to say, but before I do I reconsider. "But actually, I think it's better not to! I don't want you to get excited in the middle of everything," for a moment I regret what I said.

"Juno", he bites his lip, calling me.

"Hm?" I look at his mouth; it looks so soft.

"I've been hard for about two minutes now," I open and close my mouth, looking at the considerably large bulge in his pants. I don't know what to say. "Oh my God. I managed to shut your fucking mouth. Awesome!" he says as if it's the best thing in the world, but I don't take offense; he's said worse to me. With a little difficulty, he stands up and stretches his entire body with his back to me. I'm a little intimidated about what he's going to do; however, he sits down next to me and, at the same time, grabs a pillow to cover his "problem".

He doesn't say anything and I shift to get closer to him. Now, from how much I've played with his hair, he's slightly disheveled. "How are you going to fix this?" I ask, knowing he's going to give me an expected answer.

"Do you want to fix it for me?" Before I can answer, he kisses me, and this time with tongue, and it's so automatic that I gasp. He grabs my ass and squeezes the flesh hungrily. I moan into his mouth and he pulls me to sit on his lap – and I realize he's quickly removed the pillow, feeling the openness of the bulge. I'm not going to lie or be hypocrite; I've been wet for a while now. When he forces me against his cock, I feel my pussy throb – it feels so fucking good.

"Matt", I hold his face with both hands, almost crying. "I don't know if we should have sex now", I say, separating myself from his mouth and feeling a delicious longing as I move over his intimacy.

The truth is that, although I would like to have his mouth all over my body and his cock inside me, I'm insecure about everything. This concern invades my head when the realization that it's Matt who's there watching me moan like a whore on his lap. The fact that he's already seen my breasts weighs this stigma even more.

"Okay! I know you haven't had sex with guys in a while", it's true, but wait.

"How do you know that?", I frown.

"Because you tell me everything, idiot", he seals our lips quickly. Matt lowers his mouth to my neck, saying: "But at least let me eat you out or just suck your tits, or just watch you touch yourself; I would love that." He thrusts his hips against me, catching me off guard, making me gasp loudly with my mouth open.

I take a deep breath and gather the courage to tell him: "I want to, I really do! I'm just a little insecure..." I look down, trying not to rub myself against him. "I shouldn't, because you're so hot! And you know that's true." He lifts my chin with his hand and bites my neck, biting until he reaches my cleavage, sticking his face in there. "And, fuck, I've seen those tits, and they're even more beautiful up close." He squeezes my breasts with his big hands, intensifying a delicious sensation in my lower abdomen. "Do you want me to tell you about your pussy that's wetting my pants, too?" Matt looks at me, his eyes shining. It was true, I'm making a terrible mess.

Fuck.

"Do you still want to wash my hair?" Matt asks, with his naughtiest smile. I nod and he lifts me easily onto his lap and heads to the bathroom.

He's quick to take off my clothes and he's also quick to make me go crazy. He pushes me against the shower wall and kneels down to eat my pussy. I like the way he knows how to eat me and how grotesque he is in the sense of making a mess on his own face just to devour me. When he runs the tip of his nose over my clit and almost shoves his face inside me, he says in a very slurred voice: "That's what you wanted, isn't it?" and he takes saliva on the tip of his tongue to join my lubricated clit and satisfy me a little more. And, when I squirt on his face from the accumulated stimulation, he opens his mouth with his tongue out, swallowing everything, panting: "You're delicious, babe".

Matt is the kind of guy who likes to fuck dirty and knows how to be thirsty for it.

I swore every moment that he wouldn't fuck me tonight, but after cumming in his mouth and knowing how naughty he is, the urge got worse and he fucked me the way he wanted, moaning loudly that I take him well, that he would cum inside me and he didn't care at all and he did; I like how he keeps his words.

And you can bet that I really like the fact that he takes me to bed, still wet, and makes me sit on his sensitive cock with my back to him, murmuring how hot I am and pinching my nipples between his fingers. I don't bother to scream when he hits my sensitive spot. I love the way he starts to feel overwhelmed and whimpers in my ear; I aggravate my movements and grip the back of his neck tightly just to hear him closer. He cums inside me once more, both of us letting out moans from the sensitivity caused in our bodies. He masturbates my clit and I release myself too, rolling my eyes in pleasure.

The last thing I remember is being in his arms, and after that, I fall asleep.

When I wake up, I feel unimaginably tired. Matt's eyes are open, sleepy; he says, "Good morning," and for me, talking at that moment is not an option. He kisses my forehead and smiles, touching my cheek, being so gentle.

"We weren't supposed to do this," I say, my voice unrecognizable. He presses his lips together and smacks, murmuring, "I know!" I sigh, stretching. "Do you want to do it again?" he asks.

Well.

No need to ask!

I must say that Matt and I fucked hard all day, in every possible position. And a few times, he asked me which ones I had tried; he was surprised by some of them.

He kissed me tenderly at each end, assuring me that it was very good. And surprisingly, after cumming on his cock so many times like a slut, I actually washed his hair when we showered – leaving it nice and wavy.

We finished putting the puzzle together – even though we argued a lot about where the pieces should go. He also felt motivated enough to tell me that he likes me since I started to feel comfortable insulting him, but that he finds me annoying and sometimes insufferable. I told him he was an idiot and teased him: “Does this turn you on, Matt?”

“Oh my god. I’m so fucking horny.” He laughs and kisses me and I know for sure that I want his touch for the rest of my life.

The End

a/n: Yeah, I know. It doesn't have much to do with the song, but if you're really fucking horny, I wouldn't hesitate to make a one-shot with all the positions that Juno and Matt did before putting together puzzles, and, who knows, after that too.

[sunnyie-eve]

52 | Tattoo

Series: Unexpected

Paring: Matt Sturniolo x OFC Brock!

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Tara knows secret, fans being annoying

| MASTERLIST |

"Should we prank Dani?" Matt asks Nick and Chris while they were live on Twitch, "Like do something to her room?"

Chris looks down at his phone to see Dani texting him, who was at Tara's place watching them, "Oh Dani says... If any of us go into her room... She will..." Chris reads the texts.

"Of course she's watching us right now." Matt looks at Nick.

"But she said she will kill us if we pass through her doorway." Chris finishes reading the text, "Her room is off limits. If we don't listen to her, we're gonna regret it big big big time. So she says listen to her." He tells the two.

"Don't worry Dani." Nick smiles, "I'll listen to you. I stay out of your room when you're home. Unlike these two, mainly Matt."

Chris looks down at his phone and it was Dani telling him that the food he asked for was arriving, "I'll be right back." Chris leaves to go get his food.

As Matt tries to read chat he laughs saying he thinks he needs glasses while Nick reads so too, "Dani was in a Loony Tunes photoshoot."

"Lola Bunny." Matt says making Nick look at him, "What?"

"Stop."

"What? That's who she was in that shoot." Matt says then goes back to reading chat and they start talking about tattoos, "Matt, tattoo tour."

"Give them one." Nick tells him, "You only have this one arm tattooed right?"

"Yeah, there's two I've never shown people."

"Which ones?" Nick leans in to hear him.

"I can show them." Matt laughs.

"Matching set?"

"No, I'm not showing that one off and I have to take my shirt off to do so." Matt explains.

"So you're showing only this one?" Nick looks at the tattoo, "I think they've seen it."

"No, they've tried too. They've almost seen it. They've taken guesses."

"I think they've seen it." Nick sticks to it so Matt shakes his heads.

"Nope, never seen it." Matt turns to try to show it off.

"Dani wants one similar." Nick says, as Matt has trouble showing it off.

"It's a gargoyle." Matt finally shows it, "And then the back of my shoulder has the matching set."

"Same spot as Dani." Nick adds.

"I'm not showing it off because I just don't want to. It's super meaningful to me." Matt explains to chat as Chris comes back.

"Did you show them the matching set?" He asks him.

"What are you about to eat?" Nick looks at his food.

"Dani order what I wanted." Chris shrugs, "But did you show the matching set off?" Chris asks again.

"No, I told chat I wasn't going to."

"Why?" Chris asks curious because Dani doesn't try to hide hers from being seen.

"Because I personally don't want to show it off. As I said, it's super meaningful to me. I will say that mine is the moon while Dani has the sun but I'm still not showing it off."

"I kind of get it since some people like to get matching tattoos with people they're fans of and yours is meaningful to you." Nick speaks up and they see some of the chat saying why is it so meaningful if it's just with a friend.

"It's just with a friend..." Matt reads and can't help but roll his eyes, "Not just any friend, guys. It's with Dani and she's family now. Plus she designed our tattoos so they are personal to us." Matt explains.

"She did? I didn't even know that." Chris was surprised and Nick was too.

"Yeah, that's why it's my favorite tattoo."

"Wow, more than our matching set." Nick plays around.

"Way more. The tattoo is like my baby that I'm protective of." Matt laughs, and Dani, who was still watching them laughs as well with Tara.

"Someone said matching tattoos is something to be serious about." Nick reads and rolls his eyes a bit as well. Yeah, that was true with most people but not   Matt and Dani.

"It is, that's exactly why we got them. Thank you for worrying. I know exactly what I was doing. It was my idea and she designed it."

Tara can't help but laugh muting the live for a second to look at Dani, "Why did he want to get a tattoo with you?"

"At the time he said he wanted to make our bond stronger and permanent so he came up with the idea of a matching tattoo." Dani explains to her then unmutes the live.

At the moment the topic slightly changed but she was still the main focus of chat. "Dani's a pick me." Nick reads, "I'm gonna start banning people like you. If I or any decent person sees hate towards Dani will ban who said it."

"Do you even know the definition of pick me?" Chris asks, "She has never seeking our attention. It's actually the opposite. We seek her attention." Chris laughs making the girls laugh as well.

"As we've said in the past... Dani isn't going anywhere so love her as well or leave. Because she's really not going anywhere at the moment and I don't plan on it either." Matt tells chat and Tara screams startling Dani.

"YOU GUYS ARE SECRETLY DATING!" Tara jumps up and down screaming. "That was such a dead giveaway to me. At the moment! He doesn't plan on it either! AHHHHH!"

Dani watches Tara run around the room happily, "Are you done yet?" Dani laughs at her.

"AND YOU AREN'T DENYING IT! AHHH YES!!!!" Tara rushes over grabbing her by the shoulders shaking her, "I'M SO HAPPY!"

Dani just laughs at her, "I can tell."

"How long? Tell me everything!"

"Late March, I slipped up and he asked me out. I told him that if maybe he asked me instead of Chris, my answer would've be different." Dani tells her and Tara screams.

"THREE MONTHS! Who all knows?"

"Marylou, Justin, Madison, and you now. I think we're getting to the point where me might tell certain people like Nick, Chris, Sam, my family, Jimmy, and their friend Nate. I just really don't want to tell Colby, you know." Dani turns off the live.

"Well, he's gonna have to get over it. I know he likes Matt but only dislikes him when you're around. Out of anyone, Matt is someone he doesn't have to worry about dating you. Matt is so sweet and truly cares for you."

"Honestly, I haven't spoken to Colby since our fight we had. And no, I don't want to get into it right now." Dani leans back on the couch.

"I'm sure once he sees you two as a couple it will finally hit him that Matt makes you happy and feel loved." Tara smiles, "Anything else you wanna tell me?" Tara gives her a look.

"Hey, knock it off." Dani laughs, "You don't need to know all the details of my relationship with especially private stuff."

"I know, I know." Tara laughs then types in chat hoping the guys will see it and they don't but fans let them know Tara said hi.

"I don't trust you Tara." Matt looks right into the camera so Dani texts him she knows as well now.

"Dani!" He shouts then leans closer to the camera, "What the hell?" He asks so she calls him.

"Oh look, she's calling." He shows the camera his phone and her poster for when she calls was her giving Trevor a kiss as they sat on his bed back home and her name also had a heart after it.

Most people wouldn't care about the picture but some had pointed out she was in his room, wearing his shirt, and tiny boyshorts.

"What do you want?" He answers the phone.

"Why are you yelling at me through a livestream?" She asks him and he laughs before putting her in speaker.

"Hi Dani, Hi Tara." Nick waves.

"HIIII!" Tara yells then sees some of the comments, "Guys, Dani's name in my phone also has a heart after her name. It's not a big deal." She adds leaning closer to Dani's phone to be heard.

"Look." Nick grabs his phone to show he also had a heart next to Dani's name as well, "It's nothing."

"Chat, even in my phone each brother has their favorite color heart next to their name." Dani ;ets them know, "Okay, I'm turning y'all off so we can watch a movie. Love you guys." Dani says then hangs up then turns off the live.

"Some fans are so annoying." Tara rolls her eyes.

"I know and you deal with a lot with you still being close friends with Jake."