#everywhere everything

[sapphiccanadian]

okay, but are you an In A Week decomposing with your lover or an Everything, Everything decomposing with your lover??

[saltair-and-webweaves]

I've dug two graves for us, my dear

I lied - lord huron/in a week - hozier/ @orpheuslament/la belle fleur sauvage - lord huron/the lovers of valdaro/love like ghosts - lord huron/ @werebian/everywhere, everything - noah kahan/in a week - hozier/ @0-0-0-untitled/revenge - xxxtentacion

[uconnic]

Everywhere, Everything - Pazzi

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

summary: paige helps azzi navigate through her rehab process and they finally meet up again in person. not sure if this was what everybody was looking for in this chapter, but it felt needed for what's to come. it's a bit short and sorry for the wait but hope you enjoy!!

part 1 part 2

word count: 2.2k

Everywhere, Everything: Part 3

They Got Their Own Thing

Paige didn’t answer right away.

She reread Azzi’s message – twice. Then a third time. The words blurred slightly, as if they were something sacred, not meant to be consumed too quickly.

“Thank you, Paige. And of course I remember you, superstar. How could I not? 💗”

She let the phone rest on her chest, staring at the ceiling of her darkened bedroom, heartbeat uneven. It was ridiculous – how a single message from someone she barely knew could make her feel like she could finally exhale.

She typed, deleted, typed again. Eventually, she sent a picture.

It wasn’t one she normally showed people. She was waist-deep in a therapy pool, hair slicked back, visibly crying behind a pair of fogged-up goggles. It was raw. Unfiltered. Taken by her mom on a particularly brutal day in month three of her recovery.

Attached was the message, “that was me. 7am hydrotherapy. my knee throbbed so bad i couldn’t see straight. i think i told my mom i hated her that day. still feel bad about that.”

It was a strange way to start a conversation, but Azzi didn’t hesitate. “I’ve thrown a resistance band at my physical therapist twice now lol. He still says I’m his favorite tho 😂”

Paige smiled. It wasn’t long before their messages turned into conversations – real ones. Long, meandering, sometimes vulnerable, sometimes simply stupid. They talked about knee braces and scar cream, about which podcasts made rehab tolerable, about their least favorite exercises (Azzi hated wall sits while Paige hated – well, apparently everything).

But it didn’t stop there. They talked about everything.

Sleep. Or lack thereof. Paige confessed that she hadn’t had a full night of rest in over a year. Azzi admitted she sometimes stared at the ceiling for hours, her mind replaying every play, every jump, every pivot – trying to find the moment it all slipped. She would take melatonin just to quiet her own thoughts.

They talked about pressure. How the second you were “the next big thing,” everyone stopped treating you like a kid. Paige told her about the time a scout cornered her after a game and asked if she was “finally ready to stop being cute and disrespectful to opponents and start being a leader.” Azzi said someone once told her her smile would “only get her so far” in the sport.

“Do you ever feel like people are waiting for you to mess up?” Azzi wrote one night.

“yeah. like they want you to fail. just so they can say they were right about you.”

There was a pause. “Same.”

The texts became a lifeline. Whenever the world felt heavy, they reached for each other. And slowly, something shifted. Paige noticed herself waiting for Azzi’s messages. Checking her phone more. Feeling lighter every time her name lit up the screen. She hadn’t meant for it to happen – whatever this was. But she also wasn’t fighting it.  

Two weeks after their first message, Paige hesitantly sent her number.

“texts are easier than dms. unless you’re one of those people who still uses android 😬”

Azzi grinned at her screen. “1. I’ve never been more offended in my life and 2. What took you so long?”

Their texts naturally became imminent parts to their daily routines. Sometimes Paige would wake up to a two-paragraph rant from Azzi at 3am and respond hours later with a photo of her breakfast and a caption like, “you’re insane. also you’d think i would have mastered smoothie-making by now. this tastes disgusting.”

They talked about everything vulnerable to do with rehab. Azzi confessed she was scared to push herself too hard. That every time she landed from a jump, she couldn’t help but hold her breath and brace for the worst.

“What if I just… never feel like myself again?” she asked once.

Paige sat with that message for ten minutes before responding. “then we find a new version of you. an even better version than you already are. one who doesn’t have to be fearless all the time.”

Another night, Paige admitted something she’d never said aloud. “i think i used to judge my own worth by how many points or assists i put up in a game. like if i didn’t hit 20, i wasn’t enough. that no school would want me and nobody would take me seriously. i hated that.”

Azzi responded almost instantly. “I think I still think that.” There was a long pause. Then: “Or at least… I did. Until you started texting me.”

The vulnerability hung between them like it was the first time the had ever admitted these things aloud, and it was.

For months, while texts and phone calls came often yet, they hadn't yet FaceTimed. Not until one night – three months after their first exchange. Azzi called. No warning, just a ring.

Paige answered, expecting a joke, a meme, something stupid. Instead, she saw Azzi’s face on the screen, eyes wet, lips quivering. Her voice was hoarse and barely audible. “I can’t find my rhythm,” she whispered. “It’s like I’ve lost everything. I shoot and it doesn’t feel right. Like my body’s betraying me. I can’t even pivot without overthinking it.”

Paige blinked, sitting up straight in bed. “Azzi-”

“I don’t know how to fix it,” she choked out, wiping her face furiously. “I go to the gym, I do all the right things, and it’s like… nothing clicks. Like I’m going through the motions just to prove to everyone else that I’m trying. My parents think I’m improving… And maybe I am. But it never feels like it.”

She stopped. Lowered her eyes. “But I’m not okay, Paige. I’m really not okay.”

Paige didn’t speak right away. She just watched Azzi cry – like really cry – for the first time. Unfiltered. Vulnerable. Completely lost in who she was meant to be. 

Paige comforted Azzi for the rest of the night. Knew exactly what to say every time Azzi countered with another cloud of doubt. Talked her down until her breathing steadied again. Whispered, “We’ll get through this, I promise” until Azzi eventually fell asleep. 

And as she watched her friend through the screen, something inside her moved. Without thinking, she whispered, “Good night, Azzi" and ended the call.

Thirty seconds later, she was texting Katie Fudd.

“hi Mrs. Fudd. i hope this isn’t weird that i’m texting you. i know we’ve talked on the phone a bit before, but this is a first. i don’t want to overstep, but i don’t think azzi’s doing okay and i know what that looks like because i’ve been there. i wanted to ask if you would would be open to me visiting? just to stay with her for a few days or a bit longer to be there for her. i really think i can help and that she just needs someone who understands. if not, i completely understand. we haven’t even met in person before so it’s okay if you’re not comfortable with it.”

Katie responded five minutes later.

“Paige, if your parents are okay with it, we would absolutely love to have you here any time. You’re a good kid and I know how good of a friend you’ve been to Azzi. Let me know when you book your flight and I’ll be sure that Tim or I can free up our schedules to pick you up from the airport.”

“will do. thank you so much, i’ll see you soon. also, could you maybe not tell azzi? kind of want it to be a surprise.”

“Of course, Paige. See you soon.”  

------

Three days later, Paige landed at Ronald Reagan National Airport with a backpack, duffel bag, and a stuffed unicorn that she picked up from the gift shop. 

Katie and Azzi was waiting for her at baggage claim. Azzi was about to start complaining about why she had to come with her mom to the airport (she was told they were just picking up her grandparents) when she and Paige locked eyes. Smiles bloomed on both of their faces. There were no cameras. No fanfare. Just two teenagers who had grown impossibly close without ever really sharing the same space.

They didn’t hug right away. They just stood there, staring, both of them a little awkward and breathless.

“Hey,” Paige said, adjusting her backpack and handing over the unicorn. "I saw this at the gift shop and thought you'd like it."

“Hey,” Azzi replied, looking at the stuffed toy. "I love it, thank you."

Paige laughed softly. “Yeah, whatever. You’re shorter than I remember.”

Azzi rolled her eyes. “And you’re exactly as annoying as I expected.”

Then they hugged. And something settled. That week changed everything.

They trained every morning. Paige designed mini workouts tailored to Azzi’s comfortability – closeouts, spot-up drills, form shooting, balance exercises. They watched film together, breaking down footwork frame by frame. They talked late into the night. About fear. About the mental part of recovery. About the anger of being forgotten, the resentment toward teammates, coaches, and schools who moved on too fast and too easily.

Paige didn’t try to fix Azzi. She just listened. And in turn, Azzi stopped pretending.

Slowly, the rhythm returned. Not perfectly. Not every day. But in moments. A clean crossover. A fluid step-back. A jumper that didn’t just swish, but sang for the entire world to hear. The two learned everything about one another on the court. Began to notice each other's tells, knew exactly where the other wanted the ball to end up. Paige made perfect passes to spots on the floor before Azzi even got there. Azzi screened for Paige as she curled around perfectly for a midrange. It was as though they had studied playbooks of each other beforehand for an exam and had passed with flying colors. 

By the second week, Katie and Tim found them on the driveway, playing one-on-one at sunset, both of them laughing so loud it echoed across the yard.

“First to eleven,” Paige said, spinning the ball on her finger.

Azzi narrowed her eyes. “Loser has to do dishes for a week.”

“Neither of you ever does the dishes,” Katie chimes. 

“Fine. Loser starts doing the dishes.”

“You’re on.”

They were tied 10-10 when Paige hit Azzi with a hesitation step, then drove left. Azzi cut her off perfectly and stripped the ball away. Paige didn’t care, because in that moment, she saw a glimpse of the same Azzi she was mesmerized by all those months ago at North Tartan. Not just in the way she moved, but in the way her eyes lit up from making a good play.  

“God,” Paige gasped, shaking her head in awe. “You’re back.”

Azzi didn’t answer. She just smiled, raised an eyebrow, and nailed the game-winner right in Paige’s face. 

Paige threw her hands up in surrender. “Okay, Fudd. I see you.”

Tim and Katie watched with soft smiles from the porch as they saw their daughter’s love for basketball creep back in. 

Later that night, Azzi sat on the couch with her knees folded under her, head resting on her arms. Paige sat across from her. “I was really gonna quit,” she said softly, tracing circles with her finger on the carpet. “Like… I meant it. I was done.”

Paige didn’t say anything.

Azzi looked up to meet Paige's eyes. “But then you messaged me... You saved me, Paige. Probably more than you’ll ever realize. And I'm gonna sound so stupid for saying this because I wouldn’t even be in this mess if it weren’t for my injury, but I keep thanking God that it happened to me because it brought you into my life.”

Paige’s eyes were glassy, but her voice was steady. “You saved yourself, Azzi. I just reminded you who you were. Plus, I was just being selfish. You really think I was about to let the best shooter in the country go out like that? When I hadn’t even gotten the chance to play with her yet?”

The silence settled between them, a thousand words unspoken between them and yet, an understanding of one another deeper than they ever thought possible. 

—--- 

A week later, an envelope arrived at the Fudd house. Azzi read the first line and screamed: “USA Basketball invites you to try out for the 2017 U16 Women’s National Team.”

The whole house seemed to shift as they jumped in celebration. Her parents, brothers, and Paige celebrated as though it were their own major accomplishment. It was a letter that nobody had expected in the mail. It wasn’t that Azzi wasn’t good enough, but given her recent absence from competition, it had kind of become the safe assumption that she’d have to wait another year for her opportunity to prove herself again. 

Azzi barely had time to process it before Paige’s phone buzzed. A text from her dad, sent with a photo of the same invitation she had just received back in Minnesota. The house shook again – and it was funny really. The Fudds, who had really just met Paige a couple weeks ago, celebrated her news like she was one of their own.

Paige and Azzi looked at each other, stunned.

Azzi spoke first. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Paige smiled slowly. “That the universe might want us on the same team?”

Azzi’s eyes sparkled. “No,” she whispered. “That it already put us there.”

[lynxindisguise]

everywhere, everything -*completed*

"I think... that in another life, I would've really liked just cleaning his flat with him." *** Read the final chapter :) MULTIVERSE JUMP!!! (rb with where you were sent)

[robinavxtch]

aftershocks

michael ‘robby’ robinavitch x heather collins

| “you need to stop blaming yourself,”

“that’s fucking rich, coming from you.” |

a/n: this is basically what i think happened following pittfest with these two<3 love ya ! - anna

shoutout to @mads198-9 for being my beta reader, you’re the best 🫶🏻

wc: 4.8k

warnings: angst, angst and more angst. brief mentions of addiction, alcohol. oh and angst.

Heather opened her eyes, stretching out her still tired, and achy body. She looked at the clock.

3:00AM.

She groaned. She had fallen asleep right after getting home, after Robby told her to go home and relax. She had had the glass of wine, sat down in the shower, and then curled up and felt the weight of the world lift off of her as she slept.

Grabbing her phone, she powered it back on. A few seconds later she watched as the screen illuminated, followed by a rush of notifications. Her eyes widened as she saw the missed calls.

Robby, Dana, Robby again, Dana again. And then Robby a dozen more times.

Then, the news headline followed the phone notifications.

Shooting at Pittsfest | ACTIVELY UPDATING

Heather immediately sat up in bed, opened her phone and called the one who had spent hours trying to reach her.

Ring…Ring…

On the third ring, he picked up. She didn’t even give him a chance to speak.

“I just woke up and saw the news. Saw all your calls. I turned my phone off when I got home and—Jesus Christ, I’m sorry Robby. I’m so fucking sorry.”

She heard him breathing on the other line, not saying anything.

“God. The one day I fucking leave early…it must have been hell. I’m so sorry. So so so sorry—“

“Heather.”

“I can’t believe I actually turned my phone off. I’m a trauma doctor! We never turn our phones off and for a damn good reason! I—“

“Heather. Stop.”

His voice was rough, raw like he hadn’t used it in hours. She stilled, her breathing slightly faster than usual. She began to nervously pick at her fingers with the hand that wasn’t holding her phone.

Robby didn’t say anything. They stayed on the line in silence for what seemed like eternity until she broke it.

“Are you okay?”

He could have laughed, could have made a witty retort about how that was such a stupid question to ask, but he was so drained. Just tired and empty.

“No,” came his response.

In all the years that she has known him, he has only ever answered no to that question once. And it was on the worst day of his life.

She paused, making sure to think through what she was going to say. That it would be the right thing. That he would answer.

“What can I do?”

He let out a small laugh. But it wasn’t a happy or amused one. It was one of exhaustion. Dry and bitter.

“Unless you have a fucking time machine and can restart the shift, I don’t think there’s anything you can do, Collins.”

She bristled slightly at the use of her last name. It was such an odd formality for three in the morning.

Robby ran a hand through his hair, groaning slightly, waiting for her to respond.

“You and I both know that if I could do that, I would, Robby. But I can’t. So answer me honestly. What do you need from me right now that I can easily do?”

Her voice was soft, but there was edge of defiance in it. The stubbornness he knew all too well. He knew he had to give her an answer, despite him just wanting to tell her to forget about it and go back to sleep.

But he didn’t say anything.

“Robby,” she sighed, a hint of desperation in her voice.

“I’m fine. I don’t need anything. Especially not right now.”

He was lying through his teeth, and she could tell. She didn’t even have to see his face to know that it was scrunched up in agony. That his features were layered with exhaustion and his eyes closed.

“You’re a terrible liar,” she said, her voice quiet as she started to get dressed.

He heard the rustling and sighed, running a hand over his face, “I’m fine. I’m serious.”

“When was the last time you ate something?” She asked, ignoring his last comment as she pulled on an old pair of sneakers.

He paused, thinking. He couldn’t remember the last thing he ate. Maybe it was a the sandwich at the end of the shift? Hours ago? He couldn’t recall. Of course, he didn’t want to admit that so he just stayed silent.

Heather took that as an answer.

“Do you want food? I can come over.”

He exhaled, “Heather it is three in the fucking morning. You are not bringing me food.”

She grabbed her purse and keys and began to walk across her apartment, phone still in hand.

“Robby?”

“Yeah?” came his gruff response on the other end.

“I’m bringing you food. I’ll see you soon.”

She hung up, leaving him no room to protest. He sighed, putting his phone down. He was still lying in bed in his sweatpants with no shirt on.

He got up, slowly, throwing on an old Led Zeppelin t shirt and a different sweater— one that wasn’t stained with the horrors of the day, and walked out to his living room. Sitting down on the couch, staring at the TV with nothing playing. With nothing but his racing thoughts to keep himself occupied.

After about twenty minutes of silence, he snapped out of it, looking up as a soft knock came from the other side of the door.

He stood up, cracking his neck before walking over and opening the door to reveal Heather, in very casual clothes holding two large bags of Chinese food.

But not just any Chinese food, his favourite place.

She walked in, letting the door close behind her. He studied her carefully as she placed the bags down and began unpacking the food. Her movements were brisk but purposeful- ones he’d seen her use at the hospital. She laid it all out, setting the fortune cookies aside, then turning to l him, holding out a box of shrimp fried rice and a pair of chopsticks.

“Here. Eat.”

Robby took the box from her begrudgingly and opened it.

“You didn’t have to do this you know,”

“Oh shut up. Eat.”

Her voice was light, but the look on her face told him that if he didn’t take a bite of the food in his hand within the next three seconds, she was going to force it down his throat.

He nodded, taking a bite. Closing his eyes as the pitt of hunger in his stomach that he had ignored until now thanked him.

She sat down in the chair across from his couch, and took a few bites of her food before looking up at him.

“Again, Robby. I’m so sorry—“

He cut her off, “Stop apologizing. It’s not your fault at all.”

“I should have been there.”

“I sent you home for a reason, Heather.”

His tone was light, but there was a definitive air to it.

She exhaled sharply, her gaze never leaving his, “You should have sent someone to come get me.”

He snapped, a brief second of anger flashing across his features. “I couldn’t really afford losing another staff member. Between you and Langdon—“

“Langdon? Where the fuck was Frank?”

He held her gaze, examining the look of suprise on her face. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply before opening them again.

“Frank won’t be working with us for a while.”

Heather nodded, although not understandingly, “Why?”

Robby paused before telling her. And watched as her eyes widened in suprise, shock, and inevitability landed on anger; what he had been feeling all day since finding out.

“Fucking hell,” she cursed, “I had no idea.”

“Yeah. None of us did.” He replied shortly, his voice harsh.

“I’m sorry.”

“Again, not your fault.”

“I’m still sorry. You had one of the hardest shifts of your life without either of your R4s.”

He nodded, not saying anything. He just took another bite of his food.

Heather swallowed what she was chewing and cleared her throat, causing him to look back up at her.

“You—uh,” she exhaled, “How many patients did you see? Or how many did the ER see…?”

He swallowed, but it wasn’t because there was food in his mouth.

“112.”

He knew the exact number— of course he knew that. She wouldn’t have expected him not to.

Heather nodded, taking another bite of her food, “And how many pulled through?”

“Six of them died.”

“That’s not what I asked,”

“But it’s what you meant.”

She gave him a knowing look. He returned it. The steam off of their rice lingering in the air between them. The only sound the clicking of the clock on his shelf.

“I’m sorry.” She broke the silence.

“I need you to stop saying that.”

“But it’s true.”

“Stop.”

He continued to stare at her. And she stared back. Neither one of them wanting to back down.

Eventually, Robby’s shoulders slumped and he leaned back on the couch, continuing to eat. He finished, and placed the box down on the table beside him.

“Thanks for the food, by the way.”

She nodded, also finishing her rice. “Anytime.”

He stood up, “I’m gonna get a drink. Do you want anything?”

“Water?”

“I was thinking something stronger for myself, but I can get you water.”

He tried to crack a smile. A brief attempt to break the ice that had settled in, trying to lighten the conditions under which they were meeting. Make it slightly easier for both of them.

She begrudgingly smiled back, admiring his attempts, though knowing that the hard conversations were far from over.

“You have wine?”

He nodded, “Yeah. Always. I’ll be right back.”

Robby went into his kitchen and bustled around, finding glasses and bottles, pouring himself a scotch on the rocks and her a glass of red. He walked back out and handed it to her.

“Thanks,” she said, smiling slightly, taking a sip of the wine.

He sat back down and turned to face her again, his eyes sunken and sad.

“How are you feeling?”

Heather knew that he was deflecting. That he didn’t want to talk about the day, and would rather focus on anything else.

She gave him a knowing look, “I’ve been better. But I’ll be okay. It’s not the first time it’s happened to me.”

His eyes widened slightly, but his expression remained the same, “At work? You’ve miscarried before at work?”

She nodded, “Twice.”

He ran a hand over his face, “Jesus Christ Heather, I’m so sorry-“

“Hey-“ she held up a hand to silence him, “No apologies. Remember?”

Robby nodded, taking a sip of his scotch. The ice crinkling against the glass.

Heather took another sip of her wine, and the two fell silent again. They were both thinking, both processing.

Her eyes widened and she put her glass down and looked at him. “Jake. He was at Pittfest. You gave him the tickets is he—“ she stopped talking, watching how his face contorted in pain. Her lips parted slightly.

“Jake’s fine.” Robby managed to get out. His eyes closed. He swallowed harshly, refusing to let any emotion out.

Heather’s shoulders sunk in relief, but she knew there was something else. She waited for him to speak again.

“His girlfriend, Leah.”

“Oh,” the realization was soft as it escaped her lips.

“We couldn’t— I, couldn’t save her.”

She nodded, once. “She was one of the six.”

He nodded again, his hands beginning to shake. The ice rattling in the glass once more.

“Is Jake—is he—?” the words were lost on her lips. She didn’t know how to ask the question.

“He hates me. Doesn’t want anything to do with me. I don’t blame him—“

“Robby—“

“I killed his girlfriend—“

“—you didn’t kill anyone!”

The silence that fell between them was almost deafening. Robby’s head was looking down at the carpet beneath him. His hands twitching almost involuntarily.

“You didn’t kill anyone.”

Heather repeated her statement, but her voice had softened.

He nodded, letting her know that he heard her.

“I-“ his voice cracked, faltering slightly, “I did everything- literally fucking everything I could. I exhausted every resource. Every drop of blood we could spare. Hell, I even donated some of my own. I used Abbot’s too. And it still wasn’t enough.”

She spoke again and her voice had somehow gotten softer than it was before.

“Sometimes our best isn’t always enough.”

Robby nodded, remembering how he was the one to tell her that after her first loss years ago.

“I know.”

His voice was raw and stained with emotion as he took a shaky sip of his drink. A drop of condensation fell onto the carpet below.

“You did your best and it wasn’t enough to save Leah. But you did manage to save 106 other people. They will get to survive and live their lives. Because of you.”

“But Leah won’t.”

“No. She won’t. And today will stay with you. Leah will stay with you. But I need you to try and focus on the good. You know that’s how we stay sane in this job.”

His lips twitched upwards involuntarily, “When did you become the one to give me the pep talks?”

She continued to look at him, holding his gaze, “This isn’t a pep talk. This is me being honest.”

“Right,” Robby nodded, “Honest.”

“I need you to believe me, to trust what I am telling you.”

He made a sound. Not one of annoyance or understanding. Just a sound.

“Do you trust me?”

He continued to look at her. Steadily holding himself up until he nodded, sharply.

“Good.”

She picked up her wine glass again, taking another slow sip of it. Waiting for him to speak. He took another sip of his own drink, letting the sting of the scotch coat his throat.

“Thank you—for coming—“ he cleared his throat, “For being here.”

Heather nodded, “I’ll always show up, you know that.”

He nodded, averting his gaze from hers, “Yeah. I know.”

She stood up, and walked over to the trash from their Chinese food. She began cleaning it up.

He turned and watched her, “You don’t have to do that y���know. I can clean up,”

Heather smiled softly, “You’re awful at letting people help you, you know that right?”

She put the garbage in the trash next to the kitchen.

Robby nodded, “I know, I know. You’ve mentioned that before.”

She smiled again, though halfheartedly, picking up two of the fortune cookies and throwing one to him. He caught it in one hand and his lips twitched upwards again.

“I still can’t believe you remembered my favourite Chinese place.”

Heather scoffed, a smile still toying on her face, “It’s a pretty damn good Chinese place.”

“Oh trust me. I know.”

She sat down on the couch next to him and began to open the cookie- the plastic crinkling as they both opened them. He cracked the cookie in two and pulled out the piece of paper, unfolding it.

“Self blame builds walls; self forgiveness builds bridges…” Robby read aloud.

“Hmph” Heather muttered, “Fitting.”

He rolled his eyes but smiled softly, “Open yours,”

She unfolded the piece of paper, “The weight of the world is not yours to carry alone.”

“Also fitting,” he commented, prompting her to smile again.

“Looks like you need to blame yourself a little less.”

Her tone was light but her words weighed heavy, her eyes sad as she watched him.

“That’s pretty fucking rich, coming from you,” he retorted, his defensive side poking out just a little.

“I never said I didn’t blame myself for things,” she responded, almost too calmly, “But for this? For what happened today? You can’t blame yourself. You just can’t.”

He closed his eyes as his body tensed again. She watched him carefully.

“Everyone that lost someone today is going to blame me, because they need to blame someone.”

“And I understand that. But you don’t need to add yourself to that list, okay?”

Robby didn’t respond and she grabbed his hand, not harshly, but not softly either.

“Okay?” She repeated. Her gaze was steady and she was watching him. His eyes were still on the carpet in front of them.

Heather squeezed his hand, just enough so he could feel it, “I need an answer, Robby.”

He lowered his head a bit, his shoulders sank, and he pulled his hand away from hers, “I could have done more.”

“No. No.” Heather spoke, her voice harder than he was used to hearing, “I am not letting you go down this spiral. This was not your fault. I need you to understand that.”

Robby looked at her, his expression meek as he listened to her. He nodded once, not saying anything.

“Do you understand me? I need to hear you say it.”

“I understand you,” his voice was low.

“Say the full thing.”

He groaned, “Heather—“ His head fell downwards again.

“No. Say it. I’m not letting you do this. I need you to say it.”

He didn’t respond and she leaned a bit closer, putting her hand back over his, leaning down so that she could look up at his face.

“Michael,” she whispered, “This was not your fault.”

His first name almost felt like venom on her tongue. She hadn’t called him by it in years.

Robby’s eyes widened a little at the use of his first name, and he looked at her. Really looked at her. He saw someone who he once loved, but still cared for staring back at him. Trying to help him, trying to break down his walls that he spent so hard building back up.

He inhaled shakily as he felt her start to rub her thumb softly over the skin of his hand, a minuscule, yet soothing gesture. He continued to stare at her, neither of them moving, neither of them breaking.

“It’s not my fault,” Robby whispered.

As he spoke, one tear slipped out and fell onto the top of Heather’s hand. She didn’t flinch and continued to look at him, as more tears slipped through the cracks of his hard exterior.

She nodded slowly, not wanting to make any sudden movements and using her other hand, raised it to his face and wiped away a few of the tears.

“Say it again,” she whispered, “Say it like you believe it.”

He flinched slightly at being told what to do, especially by her. But he inhaled again, closing his eyes as more tears threatened to fall.

“It’s not my fault.”

As he said it a second time, he felt lighter. His eyes opened and she was nodding again, her own eyes sparkling with tears that she wouldn’t dare let fall. The two stayed that way, staring at one another, neither of them speaking but so much being shared between them regardless.

After what felt like eternity, Robby spoke again. This time, his voice was quiet, almost too quiet. Like if he tried to say it any louder the moment would be over.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to go back.”

She squeezed his hand, her gaze filling with determination.

“You will.”

“How can you be so sure of that?”

“Because I know you.”

Robby studied her.

The way her gaze never once wavered.

The way her eyes shone both with sadness and support, with a small sense of admiration and respect that he knew she harboured for him always.

The way that underneath her calm demeanour and exterior, she was still the girl he had met on her first day of residency during his second year of being a senior attending. The girl that was once scared, he watched grow into an outstanding doctor.

He knew she was right. That he would be able to face another day at the hospital. But right now it felt impossible, almost nauseating. The thought of walking back through those doors.

As if she could read his thoughts, she squeezed his hand again. For a brief second.

“You will keep being the great doctor that I know you are. Because there will always be patients-hell, even doctors that need you.”

Heather paused, unsure of the next few words that were about to escape her lips.

“I need you.”

She exhaled shakily.

“Heather—“

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then how did you mean it?”

He held her gaze, watching as her face turned against her and her eyes softened even more under his stare. She inhaled again, her hand still in his.

“You know how much I care about you, Robby. I know you know that. But I just…can’t.”

Her words felt like a knife to his heart, “You can’t what?” His voice was dry.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up. Forget it. Please.”

That last word was a plea, and Robby knew it. He just nodded, continuing to hold her hand in his.

Heather looked at the clock that sat on his bookshelf. It read 4:47 AM. She had almost been there for two hours. She knew he needed sleep, judging by the lines that continued to crease his tired face.

He followed her gaze to the clock, clearing his throat.

“If you need to go, you can,”

She turned back to him, shaking her head softly, “I was more thinking that you need to sleep.”

He shook his head lightly, “I don’t need sleep.”

“Robby. You need to sleep.” She held his gaze, “I can leave—“

“No.”

His response came out faster than he expected and he paused, collecting his thoughts. His next words coming out barely a whisper, shielded with vulnerability,

“I don’t want to be alone.”

She nodded once, letting go of his hand and standing up,

“I can get extra blankets from the closet and crash on the couch. I don’t mind. You won’t be alone.”

Robby nodded, “Okay.”

His sleep deprivation was catching up to him, and his body physically ached as he stood up, stretching. He winced as almost all of his joints cracked.

He went down the hall, and she heard the bathroom door close. She walked to the closet and dug out the extra throw blankets he had, making herself a makeshift bed on the couch that they were just sitting on.

A few minutes later, the door opened again and he came out holding a small bag- one that she recognized instantly as being the overnight bag she kept at his apartment when they were together.

“I think—“ he cleared his throat, visibly a bit sheepish, “I think that there’s still a toothbrush in here.”

Heather nodded, taking the bag from him, “There should be, yeah. Thanks. I didn’t even know you still had this.”

Robby shrugged, “It was under the sink. Behind a few things”

She unzipped the bag and looked at it. Her belongings from three years ago completely untouched. Like frozen memories. He had kept it, all these years.

She tried to brush off the pangs of sadness that were beginning to form in her chest, digging through the bag and pulling out her old toothbrush.

“I’m gonna get changed. You uh—,” Robby’s voice was gruff, the tiredness seeping into it, “You know where the bathroom is.”

Heather nodded, smiling softly at him as she walked down the hall to the bathroom. Closing the door behind her, she looked around at the familiar tiny room. The white LED light was almost blinding as she stood over the sink, putting the toothpaste onto her old brush.

It was odd. The taste of the toothpaste was the same. The one they shared for months. She spit it out as fast as possible once she was done, rinsing her mouth out with water.

There was a single soft knock at the door just as she finished splashing water onto her face. Dabbing with a towel to dry, she opened the door to see Robby standing there holding what looked like a pair of boxers and an old t shirt of his.

He didn’t hand it directly to her, but spoke quietly.

“I know you didn’t plan to stay the night, and I know you’re probably okay to sleep in what you’re wearing, but if for whatever reason you’re not I dug these out for you.”

Heather looked at the clothes he was holding and back up at him. She nodded once and took the clothes from his hands.

“Okay. Thank you,”

A small smile ghosted his features as he leaned ever so slightly against the doorframe, studying her. She held his gaze, and crossed her arms.

“What are you thinking about right now?”

He paused before answering, “Just reminiscing.”

She gave him a knowing look before tearing her eyes away from his. A soft sigh escaping her.

“Go to bed, Robby. I’ll finish locking the place up.”

Because she knew how to.

“Are you sure?”

Heather nodded, “Yeah. Besides, you look like hell.”

He chuckled. The attempt at breaking whatever was between them didn’t go unnoticed. He nodded, conceding, taking a step back from the doorway.

“Okay. Goodnight.”

She smiled softly as she closed the door to get changed, “Goodnight.”

As the door closed, Robby walked back down the hall to his bedroom. He sighed, running a hand over his beard before crossing the threshold, lightly tapping the door behind him to close it.

He didn’t realize it hadn’t fully closed until he was already lying down in his bed. And he didn’t care to get up and shut it. His eyes drifted closed, the only sound being Heather’s footsteps, after she opened the bathroom door.

As quietly as possible, she turned off all the lights in the apartment, and locked all the doors. She plugged her phone in beside her with the spare charger he kept in the living room, and lied down on the couch, trying her best to get comfortable.

After what felt like hours of trying and failing to find a position she could fall asleep in, she looked at her phone, tapping the screen to illuminate and reveal the time.

7:34AM.

She cursed softly. Her back was hurting on the couch and she knew sleep wasn’t in her future if she stayed lying there on it.

In her severely sleep deprived state, she stood up, grabbed the throw blanket and carefully, but successfully navigated the dark halls of Robby’s apartment, reaching his door and pushing it open ever so slightly.

“Robby,” she whispered. She could see the outline of his body in bed, not moving.

“Robby-“ she whispered a little louder this time.

“Hm?”

There was a soft grunt of acknowledgment from where he lay. But he didn’t move. She spoke again, her voice slightly louder than the whispering had been.

“I can’t sleep on the couch. It’s killing my back. And you can say no but is it okay if—“

He didn’t let her finish her sentence. Just murmured in agreement and moved further over to his side of the bed. She watched him move and she just stood there. Unsure of whether or not she should actually go in.

Robby opened his eyes ever so slightly to see her silhouette briefly illuminated by the moon that was shining through his window. He could almost feel the apprehension radiating off of her.

He patted the space beside him with one hand, “C’mere.”

She quietly walked over to the opposite side of the bed and carefully climbed into it. Pulling her throw blanket over her, to not fully get under the covers.

Everything smelled like him. The blankets, the pillows. Him. Heather blinked hard a few times, trying to push the thoughts out of her mind.

Robby was facing away from her. But she knew he was still awake based on the way she felt his body tense beside her every time she moved, even if it was the smallest shift.

She rolled over, so that she was facing his back. The familiarity of how she used to sleep in this very bed was almost overwhelming. She took a shaky breath, quietly trying to exhale.

Robby was wide awake. He felt every breath, every movement, hell, he could probably even feel every thought she was having.

He didn’t roll over, but he moved his arm backwards, searching for her hand in the dark, finding it and grazing his fingers softly against hers.

Heather almost jumped at the contact, but her breath only hitched slightly.

“It’s okay.”

She heard him whisper, causing her body to relax, but not fully.

“We’re okay. This doesn’t mean anything.”

At that, her body fully relaxed, and she brushed her fingers in reflex against his, signalling to him that she heard him.

He shifted his body ever so slightly to make himself more comfortable, not moving his hand from hers, and eventually, after a while of listening to the other breathing and enjoying the comfortable familiarity of it, they both fell asleep, their fingers just barely intertwined.

[full-of-rage-and-adoration]

The best genre of love song is "I need to die next to her. If I don't, death itself isn't worth it, I need our bones to hold eachother just as our flesh did."

[fehck]

“i wanna love you ‘til we’re food for the worms to eat. ‘til our fingers decompose, keep my hand in yours.”

[polaroidcats]

okay so in honor of @lynxindisguise finishing her incredible fic, everywhere, everything here is a silly little bit called everywhere, everything (Jeff's version)! Just for you, lynx, hope you like it:)

If sourdough starters had a concept of time, Jeff would be able to tell you it has been 47 days since anyone has last paid attention to him. Luckily though, they don't really have a concept of hours or days or even years so all he knows is that he's slowly drying up, slipping into hibernation mode and barely bubbling anymore. He doesn't mind though, it's a peaceful existence and he likes his jar.

The neighbours could be better (the rotten baby spinach is alright, but the mouldy swiss cheese has been stinking up the dark humming box for... well Jeff can't tell you for how long it has been in days, but he can tell you that The Human's moustache grew 1,2 centimeters since he last even attempted to clean out their shared floor in the dark humming box, and even then he just grabbed two mysterious bottles and ignored everything and everyone else).

Jeff knows that The Human is called Remus, but since humans (Remus excluded) generally like to refer to him as a "Sourdough Starter" he retaliates by thinking of Remus as The Human whenever he neglects him. When (if) he gets back into one of his breadmaking phases and lovingly cares for him and sings to him again as he feeds him, that's when Jeff will call him Remus again. Until then, The Human is a good enough name for someone who barely meets the requirements of what Jeff thinks humans need to do to stay alive.

Aren't humans meant to be self-sufficient? Did they not build these dark cold humming boxes for the specific purpose of having quick, easy access to nutritious foods? At least that's what Jeff has been told by the hums of the box. Why is his human so bad at the most basic human tasks like feeding himself?

Jeff is not even asking him to feed his loving, innocent, perfect, beautiful sourdough starter who really deserves to be loved and cherished a lot more, at this point he's just really worried about where The Human even gets his nutrients from. Hopefully not the baby spinach, that's currently a darker brown and looks more liquidy than Jeff himself.

Jeff's memory is not the best, the oldest parts of him that carry the most memores having been diluted so many times, back when he was being cared for lovingly, back when there was The Other Human (he's not sure he would remember his name actually, if it weren't for The Human, okay Remus, singing to Jeff about his husband's multiversal travel adventures).

He doesn't remember much of the good old times when he got to go on adventures to the kitchen counter, even lived there in his jar most of the time, enjoying the sunshine and a view of the kitchen from behind the rosemary and basil bushes in matching pots, not only hearing the hums of the cold dark box but so many other beautiful sounds too - the whisper of the rosemary and the gentle lullabies of the basil leaves, the rythmic dances of the cutlery and the sharp screams of the plates, but most of all, the laughter and soft voices of The Human and his Other Human.

Those days seem like hazy dreams from a different life to him now. All he knows now is the humming dark box that gets small moments of light sometimes, when The Human opens the portal to the kitchen and looks around, searching for something that's obviously not there, scratching his stubbly chin and sighing a sad little sigh before closing the portal again, returning the inhabitants of the humming box to their peaceful but cold and lonely life in the darkness.

[duskandcobalt]

Everywhere, Everything: Chapter Eight

Chapter Summary: Back in the same city once again, Azriel and Elain are no longer able to ignore what's simmering between them

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: smut. just smut. (18+ pls and ty)

Missed the first seven chapters? You can find the Masterlist for this fic here 🥰

A/N: hello again friends, i'm baaaaack :)

Once again, I must begin by saying thank you for all your lovely comments and messages on my fics and on my wip wednesday posts because they truly keep me going 💕 I hope you enjoy this next installment.

ENJOY XX

Read on AO3

Azriel couldn’t keep his foot from tapping against the linoleum floor of the Velaris airport as he kept an eager eye on the escalator that descended into the tiny arrivals hall. 

He’d picked Elain up from this airport a number of times when she’d gone on work trips or holidays with her sisters. But he’d never picked her up like this - waiting for her inside instead of on the curb. Waiting for her with this new situation between them ever present in the back of his mind just as it had been ever since the morning after Christmas when they’d unexpectedly gotten a little too carried away in his workshop.

He had the thought that maybe he should’ve brought some flowers with him today - if only to have something to do with his hands because right now he couldn’t decide whether to keep them in or out of his pockets and so he’d been fidgeting like a madman for the last fifteen or so minutes. It was a wonder airport security hadn’t confronted him for suspicious behaviour. 

The issue with bringing flowers was that they were headed straight to Nesta and Cassian’s house for the long weekend and the thought of explaining why he’d bought Elain flowers to her brother-in-law was enough to give him a headache. 

He’d already received a look from Rhys when he’d volunteered to pick her up under the pretence that it would make life easier for him and Feyre but maybe he’d been too eager given the speed with which he’d offered when they’d been discussing the logistics for this weekend. 

But Azriel couldn’t have possibly kept his cool. Not when the last time he’d seen her in person he’d had to drop her off at her sister’s house without so much as a kiss on the cheek because Nesta had been standing outside, waiting for her on the porch with a look on her face that hovered somewhere between worry and disappointment, as if Elain were a wayward teenager who’d snuck out for the night. 

It’d been months of separation and now she was once again back for her nephew’s birthday and though they’d been in near constant contact - texts, phone calls, hours spent on Facetime each evening - he couldn’t wait to see her again and he was desperate for a bit of time alone with her - even if it was just the forty five minute drive from the airport to Nesta’s house on the outskirts of town. 

Azriel raised up on his toes and then back down again - made note that perhaps he’d been spending too much time with Feyre because he’d clearly picked up that nervous habit from her - and then focused his attention back to the escalator again just in time to see a girl with brown hair cascading over her shoulders, a bright smile on her cherry red lips, and pretty eyes that were already set on him. 

There were no words for the way that first glimpse of her made him feel. No possible way to describe the rush he felt in his chest or the anxious itch of his palms. For all the slack he caught for keeping his feelings to himself and hardly ever letting his emotions show on his face, now his cheeks actually hurt from the way he was grinning as Elain not so casually rushed across the floor to him before abandoning her bags and launching herself into his arms. 

He caught her easily, lifting her up with his arms wrapped tight around her middle - savouring the feel of her hands as they wove through the strands of his dark hair. 

“Hi,” Elain giggled, resting her forehead against his. 

“Hi, Lain,” Azriel smiled back, carefully setting her back down on her feet so he could move his hands from her waist up to her face, tilting her chin up to him before he lowered his lips to hers. 

He felt the momentary hesitation, the bit of slight shock. He thought for a split second that maybe he’d pushed his luck with her, taken it too far, but the feeling was short lived because he soon felt her relax in his arms, melting into the kiss - melting into him. He knew what would’ve been going through her head. Knew that she’d paused for a moment because they’d never had this before - the chance to be so open, to put on such a display of affection where anybody in their small town could see them.

“Missed you,” she whispered against his lips, suddenly shy. Her face was flushed, eyes shimmering as she pulled back and looked at him. 

“Missed you, too.” Azriel whispered back, pecking her cheek once more for good measure. “Ready to go?” He asked, waiting for her nod of confirmation before reaching for her suitcase with one hand and taking her hand in the other because he simply couldn’t keep from touching her in some small way. 

The walk to the car was quick, quiet words exchanged about the flight as they walked - turbulent to start but otherwise fine. He knew how much she hated landings and so he’d given her hand a squeeze when she relayed with a small laugh the way she’d gripped the armrest, wishing he’d been there to hold her hand instead. 

There’d also, much to his chagrin, been a slight moment of embarrassment when Azriel started his car only for music to start blaring from the speakers - a bass heavy club track with female vocals that featured on his rotation of music he listened to whilst at the gym. He’d been listening to it on the way to the airport at top volume to keep his mind distracted.

Elain had looked over at him, a teasing grin on her lips and one sharp eyebrow raised as he sheepishly lowered the volume and quickly picked up his phone, switching to an indie folk song that was more indicative of the style of music he typically listened to throughout the day. “I see your club rat days aren’t completely behind you, after all.” 

Azriel chuckled as he threw an arm around her headrest and put the car in reverse, looking over his shoulder as he backed out of the parking spot. 

“Only within the constraints of this car and the gym, I’m afraid.” 

“Shame… I was hoping to see you with some glow sticks in hand again. It’s been awhile.”

Azriel shook his head at how much amusement she was getting out of this moment. He’d had a reputation in his college days for enjoying a good night out and while Elain had only witnessed him in his prime party days a couple of times, she’d never let him forget it. “Don’t worry, I keep the glow sticks in the glove compartment and pull them out at red lights to entertain myself sometimes.” 

“Very funny,” Elain rolled her eyes, settling into her seat and looking out the window as she quietly hummed along to the song that was now playing. 

Azriel watched her out of the corner of his eye, enjoying having her as a passenger in his car once again, happily chattering away about what they’d been up to and what this weekend had in store for them. It wasn’t until they were on the last five or so miles to their destination that he noticed how quiet she’d gotten a little over halfway into the drive, the conversation dying down into what he believed to be a comfortable silence. 

But the more the silence continued, the more suspicious he got.  He’d caught her twice now not-so-subtly sneaking long glances at him while she fidgeted with her necklace and shifted repeatedly in her seat, legs crossing and uncrossing as if she couldn’t get comfortable. It was dark out but he could just about spot a little crease between her brows - a dead giveaway she had something on her mind. 

He’d just opened his mouth to ask about it when she looked over at him. 

“Could you pull over?”

“What?” Azriel frowned, looking over at her as he slowed down, approaching the end of the long, dark road they were on. “Are you okay?” 

His own forehead creased in concern as he scanned her from head to toe. He didn’t know what he was looking for, could barely even see her properly now that the sun had fully set behind the mountains. 

“Yeah, I’m fine… I just… I… can you turn down here?” Elain gestured to the left where the paved road turned to dust and gravel - no street lights to be seen. They were supposed to go right and over the train tracks before turning into Nesta and Cassian’s neighbourhood. 

Azriel turned left as directed, driving a little further down the road before pulling to the side and putting the car in park. He twisted in his seat to face her, the dim lights from the dashboard doing little to help him see her.

“Lain, what’s wr-,” Azriel didn’t get a chance to finish his question because Elain was unbuckling her seatbelt and was halfway over the centre console of his car a second later - her lips fused to his neck, her hand skimming the waistband of his jeans. 

“Can we,” her hand slid along his jaw, turning his face toward hers. Her lips were inches from his. “Please, Az. Let me…”

The other hand that settled low on his waist slid down further, fingers gently palming him where his body had begun to catch on far quicker than his mind. 

“Fuck,” Azriel let out an involuntary groan, his hips keening upwards into her touch. “Jesus, Lain…here? Now?”

“Mhm,” she nodded, tucking her head into the crook of his neck. She breathed in the scent of him, tracing a path with her mouth to his ear where he felt her teeth just barely graze his ear lobe. “Been thinking about it all day long… this whole drive, on the plane, when I was at home. Want you in my mouth.”

Azriel cursed again under his breath, so caught off guard by her uncharacteristically brazen words to even notice that she’d undone the button and zipper of his jeans until he felt her fingers wrap around him, lightly dragging up his quickly hardening length. Just a tease of a touch that had him breathless.

He shouldn’t be surprised that she was acting like this - so out of her mind with the need to have him that she’d gone as far as to make him pull over when they were mere minutes away from seeing her family.

She’d been so eager a time or two on those late night calls, after all. Had only vaguely pretended to be shy when after hours of exchanging increasingly salacious texts, he asked if she’d undress for him. She’d nodded, a pretty blush creeping up her neck as she slowly took off her clothes and propped her laptop between her legs, dutifully following his instructions - lower, slower, yes, just like that… good girl -  until she was coming for him, rapid breaths, his name muttered into her pillow, the light from her computer screen casting her perfect skin in hues of blue.

“Come here,” he groaned, suddenly impatient, overcome with the need to have her - wanting to give her what she was begging for. He unbuckled his own seatbelt and pushed his seat back as far as it would go, helping her over the console and onto his lap, chuckling when her ass hit the horn. She maintained her focus, kissing him once, twice, then shifting down - squeezing herself into the space between his legs, her knees on the floor of the driver’s side, her hands on his thighs, her lips tracing a path around the head of his cock. 

It was like something out of a wet dream. It was every filthy fantasy he’d ever had. Elain on her knees, signature deep red lipstick staining his skin like a map of all the places her lips had explored. Heavy lidded eyes watering as she took him into her mouth - deeper, then deeper still, until he felt the back of her throat, heard the soft choking sound of her taking just a bit too much.

“Careful,” Azriel whispered, gathering her long hair in his fist and holding it back so that it stayed out of her way and gave him the view he was after.

Elain drew back, taking a deep breath as she smiled up at him - eyes glazed over with lust. “I’ve wanted you like this for so long,” she dragged her tongue over his head, her fist tightening and twisting around him. “For years.”

“Yeah?” It’s all he could manage because she was back to it, that torturous mouth making him see stars. The way she hummed around him in confirmation brought him right to the edge. Only a few minutes and she already had him there, thighs tensing as he tried to hold back just a second longer. “Elain… I’m gonna,” he tried to warn her. Tried to give her the option. But she kept going, nails digging into his thighs, almost smiling around him as he tugged at her hair so her eyes were focused on his as he spilled into her mouth with a loud groan.

He watched in a daze the motion of her throat as she swallowed, taking everything he gave her in stride until he was completely spent. He released her hair,carefully tucking it behind her ear as she dragged her tongue over him one last time.

Azriel reached down after she pulled off him, thumbing at her full bottom lip - now slick with spit. “This mouth… all I’ve been thinking about is your mouth. These lips, that lipstick - thought about it on my cock.”

“Hope I lived up to your expectations,” she smiled, shy once again.

“Exceeded them,” he slipped his thumb further between her lips, shaking his head when she playfully dragged her teeth over the pad of it as if she just couldn’t help herself. He had to pull back, keep his hands to himself before he abandoned all plans and hauled her into the back seat of his truck to return the favour.

Elain pressed small kisses to his thighs and his chest as she did her best to make him presentable again before settling back on his lap with her arms around his neck, her face once again tucked into his neck. “Thank you.”

Azriel couldn’t help but laugh as he leaned back to look at her, hands cupping her face. “Think I should be thanking you.”

She shook her head, smiling at him. “Needed that.”

All he could do was grin at her stupidly, tracing her cheeks and then her lips, before he kissed her. Slow. Deep. In no rush. 

To hear that she wanted him like that, needed him… he could almost come again just from the thought of her feeling that way. He was so in over his head, so deeply gone for her.

“Az,” she swallowed, biting down on her lip. “We should go… before the girls send a search party.” 

“You’re right,” he nodded, hands squeezing her ass once more before helping her back over the console and into her seat. He righted himself, readjusted his seat, and turned the engine back on. He started driving back towards the train tracks - his hand on her thigh, a satisfied smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The memory of a moment on a dirt road now a secret just between them - nothing but the stars in the night sky as their witness.

…

Filthy. 

It was downright filthy the way Elain felt about him. Filthy the way she walked into her sister’s house knowing her lipstick was on Azriel’s body, crudely smeared under his jeans. Filthy, the way she could still feel his fingers threaded through her hair - the gentle tug of his fist until her eyes were on him so he could watch as she swallowed. Filthy the way she wanted to avoid eating or drinking if only to keep the taste of him in her mouth just a little bit longer. 

She’d wanted it from the second she’d gotten ready for the airport, slipping on her favourite underwear while imagining him taking it off her. She’d wanted to make him feel the way he’d made her feel a time or two now - knew that he wouldn’t be keeping count but still, she’d been itching for it and she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold out as soon as she first spotted Azriel upon arrival at the Velaris airport. It was a miracle she’d even lasted that far into the drive. It was even more of a miracle that she’d been able to stop after all was said and done considering that now, hours later, there was a persistent ache between her legs the begged to be attended to. 

Arriving at Nesta’s house had been a much needed distraction. She’d checked her appearance in the visor mirror just to make sure there wasn’t any incriminating evidence of what they’d done lingering on her skin and then climbed out of the car just in time for the front door to swing open and her nephew to appear at the top of the stairs, shouting her name in excitement. 

From there, she’d been dragged into the house - taken on a tour of the toys and books he’d forced his parents to drag along for the weekend - before he finally handed her over to the adults when the excitement faded and the sleepiness took over. 

She was happy to be back in this house with her favourite people. It was so different from the last time she’d been here, when Graysen had been glued to her hip, his eyes carefully keeping track of her every move. The last time she’d been here, she’d told Azriel that they couldn’t be friends - at least not like they had once been. 

She couldn’t believe just how much had changed in such a short span of time. She couldn’t wrap her head around just how differently everything had panned out. Now she was back in one of her favourite places, no overbearing boyfriend in sight. And yes, she and Azriel weren’t friends, certainly not like they had once been. But it was true in a much different way than she’d anticipated and she couldn’t possibly be happier about it. 

It had been so easy to fall back into old patterns with him - the comfortable ease of their long friendship rekindled as if the year or two of limited communication had never happened. But while those first few weeks after Christmas were just like old times - friendly conversations talking about everything and nothing - at some point their daily phone calls escalated, certain things slipping out with the darkening of the sky and a couple glasses of wine. 

They’d sp0ken about their situation a few times over the phone. She’d confided in him about Graysen - about the mistakes made and the lessons she’d learned. About her hesitancy to jump straight into another relationship. So they’d agreed to keep things casual, to not label anything just yet. Still, it was evident by the constant tension between them, that they were undeniable more than just friends.

Perhaps that should’ve been obvious, given that the last time she’d seen him in person he’d had his head between her legs and it would’ve gone further had Nesta not rudely interrupted. 

She’d hated leaving him like that and had been so eager to see him afterwards but the New Year's rush had been hard to avoid at work for both of them and so they’d ended up agreeing to see each other when she visited for Nyx’s birthday - and to keep this new development just between them- until they could plan their next steps. 

That’s how they ended up in this house - Elain unable to look Azriel in the eye for more than a few seconds while surrounded by their family and friends without thinking of everything she wanted to do with him. She’d been more than happy to entertain Nyx and to help prep dinner. To do absolutely anything that would keep her busy so that she didn’t have time to think about the way she could feel him sneaking looks at her every time they were in the same room. With the distraction of other people, she could push aside the desire coursing through her for just a moment. 

Somehow, Elain had made it through the night successfully. She hadn’t raised any suspicions. Had managed to interact with him in a way that was just the right amount of friendly. But now, laying in the bedroom she always stayed in at Nesta’s house, all she could think of was him. Of what they’d done in the car on the way here just three or four hours ago. 

She wanted him again. Wanted his hands on her body. Wanted his tongue in her mouth. Felt like she needed him in a way that was borderline embarrassing. 

She picked up her phone, opening their text thread. She typed and deleted multiple messages before locking her phone and putting it face down on the nightstand. It felt too desperate to text him like that. Juvenile almost. But it was torture - each shift of her legs, the soft touch of the sheets, the feel of her t-shirt twisting around her sensitive skin - it all added to her incessant need. Her nipples were hard peaks and there was a thrumming low in her core that was becoming impossible to ignore. She’d never in her life felt frustration like this, pinpricks of sweat gathering at her hairline. 

She knew this wasn’t something that she’d be able to work away herself like she did when she was alone at home and desperate for him- in bed, her fingers stroking between her thighs.

Elain sat up, swinging her legs over the side of her bed. She needed air. A glass of cold water. And if she walked by his room… if she happened to see the glow of a light underneath the gap in his door, then that would be the sign she needed. Maybe then she’d knock. And if he happened to be awake, if he happened to open the door, then she’d feign ignorance - was just going to the kitchen and saw your light was on… 

With her mind made up, she slipped on her robe and padded to the door with the intention of venturing to the kitchen but she didn't make it far at all, pulling the door open only to almost walk face first into the solid wall of Azriel’s chest.

“Oh,” she swallowed, dragging her eyes up to his face. 

He looked just as dishevelled as she felt, his hair tousled as if he’d been running his hands through it. 

“I was just going to the kitchen because I needed some -”

“Save it,” he shook his head, voice low as he stepped towards her, forcing her to retreat back into her room. She couldn’t bring herself to say anything, too distracted by the look of determination in his eyes as twisted her around and quickly closed the door behind them.

Her entire body sparked to life, burning as he reached for her again, both hands firm on her hips until she was completely pressed up against the door with nowhere to go, his hips flush against hers, not even a single inch left between them. It was that movement that made her snap out of the daze, it was the feel of him hard and heavy against her stomach that left no room for questioning what he was here for or that his intentions matched exactly what she’d had in mind while she’d been tossing and turning in her bed. 

Azriel wasted no time, hands deftly undoing the tie of her robe, reaching up to slip it off her shoulders until it fell to their feet. His fingers were under her t-shirt a moment later, fingertips skimming the soft curve of her breasts. 

“Az, wait…” Elain breathed, trying to put a bit of space between them if only to clear her head a little. “Feyre and Rhys…”

“Don’t wanna hear names that aren’t mine right now,” he said gruffly, rolling his hips against hers.

“It’s just that they’re right next door. I share a wall and they could hear…” 

Azriel only smirked down at her, thumbs circling her sensitive nipples. “Guess you’ll just have to be quiet then won’t you. Do you think you can manage that?”

She knew he was being smart with her, knew that he remembered just how not quiet she’d been the last time he’d had his hands on  her like this. But her rational brain had seemed to vacate the premises and so instead of offering some sort of rebuttal back, Elain was muttering something like I can be so quiet, I promise I’ll be so quiet as she turned them around, tugging him down towards her and pulling him to the floor. 

“Right here?” Azriel raised an eyebrow, hands travelling up her legs and under the hem of her oversized t-shirt, leaving goosebumps in their path, until his fingers curled into the straps of the lacy underwear she wore.

“Yes,” Elain nodded, not bothering to explain that the headboard would likely be an issue for them. She lifted her hips up to make it easier for him to tug her underwear down her legs. “Here. Now. Need you.” 

“I know,” Azriel soothed, hands pushing her shirt up her torso before lifting it off her head, leaving her sprawled out underneath him - naked on the carpet. “I know, angel.” 

Elain bit down on her lip, watching as he quickly stripped out of his own clothes before lowering himself over her. One big palm was placed on her thighs, calloused hand spreading her wide in a way that would’ve made her blush if she wasn’t so focused on the blissful feeling of his weight settling on top of her and pinning her to the floor.

That same hand maneuvered in between their bodies, fingers easily parting her and slipping through her center - teasing and testing. He cursed under his breath, clearly pleased with what he found there. “You’re so fucking wet already, I think you could take me just like this but I’d like to taste -”

“No,” she shook her head quickly, blindly reaching between them to grip his cock, guiding it to where she was wet and ready for him. “Please.”

The feeling of him settling against her entrance was divine, and her back arched in search for more.

“Wait, fuck.” Azriel stopped all of a sudden. “Condom… they’re in my room. I can just go and…”

Elain locked her legs around him, nails pressed into his shoulder blades to keep him from moving any further away. She couldn’t bear for him to leave. Couldn’t possibly waste one more second with him when they were already so short on time. “It’s okay, I’m on the pill and I haven’t… there’s no one else so if you’re good then I’m good.”

“I’m good, Lain.” Azriel nodded quickly, relaxing a little as he once again situated himself, dragging his cock through her once before he pushed in just the tiniest bit so she could feel that beautiful pinch of initial pressure. “You sure?”

“Yes, fuck, pl-” her words were choked off with a gasp as Azriel pushed into her so slowly, each incredible inch of him sinking into her until there was nowhere else for him to go. 

His lips skated over her jaw until they found her own, kissing her sweetly as he withdrew out almost all the way before sliding in again. “There’s no one else, Lain. Just you.”

“Yeah?” Her eyes fluttered open to look at him as he sank into her. 

“Yeah, that’s how it’s gonna be now. Isn’t that right, angel?” He whispered as he plunged into her over and over again - slow, decadent drags of his cock that had her whimpering beneath him. “Just you for me and me for you.”

“Yes,” Elain nodded frantically, hips bucking up against his, desperate for more.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” Azriel read her signs and lifted her knee, pushing it up and out to the side, allowing for a deeper fit that had her biting down on her lip hard enough to draw blood. 

“I’m yours. Fuck, fuck, I’m yours.” Elain moaned, lips seeking his mouth for another kiss. 

She didn’t know what had gotten into him but she relished in it. Body growing taut at the suggestion of belonging to him. Maybe it was the distance for him as well, the time spent apart, that had him just as crazed as she had been. Just as feral. 

It was so good. So fucking incredible to have him like this, so deep inside her, making her feel so unbelievably good that she couldn’t even think straight. It was undeniable that this was more than sex. Despite the carnal urge they’d both felt, this had to be more than just physical desire between them. She couldn’t get enough. Wanted even more. 

“Az?” Elain raked her nails up his back, tugging lightly at the hair at the nape of his neck until his eyes were on her. “Will you fuck me?”

She could see the look of confusion in his eyes, the little crinkle on his forehead as if he was trying to figure out if that wasn’t exactly what they were currently doing. It took a second but she could pinpoint the exact moment he caught on to what she meant because his eyes darkened and his lips twitched.

“You want it a little harder, hm? A little rough? I’ll give you whatever you want.” He pulled out of her, kneeling back and nodding as he looked down at her. “Turn over. Get on your knees.”

Elain bit down on the inside of her cheek, nervous anticipation coursing through her as she flipped over as directed. Her hands and knees were on the floor as she turned back to look at him, watching as he knelt behind her, hands kneading her ass . He gave her no warning before lining himself up and pushing into her in one rough, hard thrust - knocking the air clear out of her. 

She hadn’t even noticed that she’d made a noise until his chest pressed into her back, his hand covering her mouth as he nipped at a spot just below her ear. “Thought I told you to be quiet.” 

She loved him like this. Loved the authority. The dominance. The control. She needed it sometimes and she loved that he did as she wanted, fucking her properly without making her feel like any of the other men she’d been with had made her feel in moments like this. Because for each rough movement, there was praise. 

You’re doing so well, angel.  Azriel told her as he gripped her hips hard enough to leave bruises.

You feel so fucking good. As he placed a hand between her shoulder blades, pushing her down into the rug to create the perfect arch of her back.

Look how pretty you look when I’m fucking you. So beautiful when you’re taking me. As he fisted her hair, roughly turning her head until she caught their reflection in the mirror hanging on the closet door beside them.

“Az!” Her voice was muffled slightly by the carpet, her eyes hazy as she watched him fuck her - the measured snap of his hips, the flex of his arms as he gripped her hair, her hips, her ass. He was so strong, so assured in his motions as he easily positioned her just how he liked. 

She hoped and prayed that these walls were solid enough to block out noise because while she was doing her absolute best to stay quiet, there was nothing to be done about the sound of his skin hitting hers each time he fucked into her. Nothing to be done about the sinful, slick sound of his cock sliding in and out of her given how wet she was.

“What is it, Elain?” He asked. “Tell me what you need.”

“More,” she begged. She didn’t even really know what she wanted but she knew she wanted more of him. More of his touch. More of his words. Just more of him. “I’m so… I’m so close, please, I just need more.” 

Azriel slowed his thrusts, pulling gently on her hair until she was up on her knees, her back tight to his chest. Her head fell back onto his shoulder, her lips were on his neck tasting the salty skin there. 

“Feel like you were made for me.” His arms wound around her. One arm snaking up between her breasts to put slight pressure on her throat as he held her up. The other arm drifted down her torso until his fingers found her throbbing clit, his thumb smoothing quick circles there as he continued to push into her with deep, powerful thrusts. She pulsed around him, her stomach pulling tight as her desire reached a precipice with each stroke of his cock and each tap of his thumb. “There you go, Elain. That’s it.”

“So good. You feel so good.” She murmured, so pleased with the intensity this new position brought. “I’m so close.”

“Come for me, baby.” Azriel urged, his thumb still working her beautifully. “Be a good girl for me and come on my cock, Lain. Can you do that?”

Elain made a small noise of agreement, pushing back onto him to match his thrust, amplifying the feeling of him so deep inside her that she felt him in her belly, stretching her in the best way. It was like he was made to fill her. Made to fuck her. 

In the end it was his words that did it - the gentle praise coupled with the rough motion of his hips and his hands. It was Azriel whispering about how well she was taking him that tipped her over the edge. She collapsed back into him with the force of her orgasm, her teeth buried into his neck in a halfhearted attempt to muffle the way she cried out his name.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Ride it out. Take what you need.” His fingers continued to stroke over her, wringing out every last drop of pleasure until she was utterly boneless - absolute putty in his arms as he maneuvered them so that she was on her back again with him between her legs. “Just a little more, okay? I’m right there with you.”

When he dipped down to press his mouth to hers, Elain accepted it greedily as she spread her legs apart and welcomed him in. She was so sensitive, aftershocks of her orgasm still pulsing through her as he entered her again. She savoured the way their tongues slid together, moaning quietly as he lifted her hips and fucked into her quickly until his own hips started to falter. 

“Where do you want it, Lain?” Azriel asked, voice gravelly as he attempted to hold himself together.

“Anywhere. Wherever you want.” Elain told him, meaning every word. He could do whatever he wanted and she’d let him. He could come on her stomach, her breasts. Even her face if that would please him. But there was really only one place that felt right at this moment. One place that caused her to tense around him as if to wordlessly suggest the idea. “Inside me. Come inside me.”

She heard him groan at the suggestion, a string of low curses flying out of his mouth at her words. “Want it inside you? Want me to fill you up?”

“Yes,” Elain wrapped her legs around him, pulling him further into her. Showing him exactly how much she wanted it. “I’m yours, Azriel.”

He said her name as he came, hips stilling as his forehead pressed to her chest. She could feel it, the warm sensation, the jerk of his cock as he gave her everything he had until there was no room left for it all. Elain felt it on her thighs, felt it seep out of where they were still joined. 

“God,” Azriel moaned in disbelief, head still buried against her chest as he attempted to regulate his breathing. “That was…”

“Yeah,” Elain agreed, threading her fingers through his hair as she gently untangled her legs from his waist. He grabbed his t-shirt from where it was laying next to them, dabbing it against her thighs as he pulled out of her - ensuring nothing spilled from her onto the rug beneath them.

There were no words for what just happened. No possible way to summarise everything she felt in that moment. She’d never felt like that before. It was almost too good to be true how unbelievable it was. How incredible he’d made her feel. She couldn’t believe how much time they’d wasted not doing that.

They laid there for ages, neither of them able to find the energy to make it to bed. Instead, Azriel reached up and pulled a couple pillows to the floor along with a blanket, draping it over their naked bodies before pulling her into him. Her breasts against his chest. Her legs entwined with his.

They exchanged kisses in between whispered conversation- slow and heated - hands tracing and grasping until it was inevitable that somehow neither of them were ready to stop. It wasn’t long until Elain was on top of him, breathy moans slipping from both their lips as lowered himself onto his cock, riding him slowly. Grinding against him, taking her time drawing out their pleasure until they couldn’t possibly take it anymore and they both finished with stifled moans. 

“Az?” Elain broke the comfortable silence that had settled between them afterwards, her finger stroking along his jaw as his own fingertips traced soothing patterns down her arm. 

Azriel hummed, sleepy eyes fluttering open. 

It made her heart skip a beat - how beautiful he was like this - sex tousled hair and tired hazel eyes. Lips swollen, the dim moonlight illuminating his sweat slicked, tan skin. He was like a piece of art and she couldn’t believe how lucky she was to be the one to see him like this. To be the one that had messed up his hair and bitten his lips. 

“My necklace,” she forced herself to focus, swallowing nervously before she continued. “I never asked when you gave it to me but I’ve always wondered… the letter on the back…”

Elain trailed off, watching carefully as Azriel tilted his head back further into the pillow sandwiched between his head and the floor. She bit back a smile as a warm flush of colour crept up his neck and seeped into his cheeks. He’d caught on quick to where she was headed with this inquiry and his reaction was enough to hint at what his answer would be. 

“The ‘A’ on the back isn’t for my last name is it?”

“No,” Azriel answered quietly, his hand drifting from her arm. “No, it’s not.”

Her breath hitched in her throat as his fingers smoothed over her sternum, sliding in between her breasts until he reached the pendant. He flipped it over, thumb pressing into the small letter hidden there like a secret.

“Do you engrave your initial onto all the jewellery you make?” She asked.

“You know I don’t,” he answered. The initial signs of embarrassment were gone from his face and in its place was an unabashed, earnest honesty. “That was just for you.”

“Why?”

“You really don’t know, Lain?” He shook his head, tugging on the pendant gently. “I knew I couldn’t have you the way I wanted. Didn’t think I’d ever get the chance… so I thought I’d give you just a little piece of me. I suppose I liked the idea of my initial being right here. Against your skin. Close to your heart.”

As if to punctuate his words, he did just that - pressing the oval into her skin just as she’d done time and time again over the years in an attempt to steady herself in moments where she needed comfort. 

She knew. Of course, she knew that the letter on the back hadn’t really been for her last name. She’d seen the way his eyes fixated on it each and every time he saw her since he’d first put the necklace on her. Noticed the way he’d relax when he saw that she was still wearing it year after year.

It was a relief to know that all this time, what she’d secretly hoped to be true was actually true. 

“You’ve got a possessive streak, huh?” She didn’t know what else to say so she settled for the safe option of making a joke. Everything else that fought to leave her mouth would be too honest. Far too much, far too soon. “All that talk earlier about being yours…”

“I meant it,” he slipped his hand further up her neck, up to her jaw. His hold on her was loose but still, her blood heated with the suggestion behind the action. “We don’t need to put a label on anything. We can keep this quiet, keep it between us. But if we’re doing this then there’ll be no one else. Not for me. Not for you.”

“So we’re doing this, then?” she asked, finally breaching the question that had been hovering between them like a grenade over the past few months. “We’re… exclusive?”

“Yes, Elain.” Azriel laughed, lips hovering over hers as his thumb smoothed over the expanse of her throat. “We’re exclusive.”

She closed the distance between them, her lips pressed to his as Azriel rolled her onto her back and used his knee to guide her legs apart for the third time that night.

[pinofdnp]

keep my hand in yours <3333

[fairyboygenius]

everywhere, everything

masterlist

one- you’re on your own, kid

two- direct address

three- second nature

four- delicate

five- birds of a feather

six- fable

seven- flowers

[sunlight-fics]

Everywhere, Everything

•Andrew Hozier X reader

-Warnings: Talking about the future. Established relationships.

It was a perfect summer evening. You and Andrew were laying outside in grass under the trees in the backyard. You keep your head on your boyfriends chest while your hand was intertwined with his. Music played in the background as y’all both laid there peacefully. Finally Andrew broke the silence, “Do you ever think about our future together?” When he asked that you open your eyes and for the first time in a while actually thought about it. “Yea… it’s been awhile though. Why do you wanna know?” You responded while playing with the grass that you laid in. “I was just thinking. I want my life and future with you. I want you to be everywhere with me and also my everything. Like I most literally want you to be with me 'til we're food for the worms to eat. Til our fingers decompose.” He said while knowing damn well he just took half of that sentence out of the song that was playing, ‘Everywhere, Everything.’ By Noah Kahan. You also caught on to what he was doing, but your heart couldn’t help but completely melt when he said that. “We didn't know that the sun was collapsing, 'Til the seas rose and the buildings came crashing. We cried, "Oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh, oh"… The song played in the background. “I want to be with you too. Till the end of time or the end of the earth.” You said back. You have never really felt this kind of love before, you couldn’t help but hold back tears. “But do you think it would last?” Andrew asked back hesitantly. “Hozi, I think it would absolutely last. I love you more that I love myself.” You responded. “I love you too.”

“Everywhere, everything I wanna love you 'til we're food for the worms to eat. ‘Til our fingers decompose. Keep my hand in yours.”

You then sat up and looked at him. His freckles were slowly coming back and his hair was a beautiful auburn color in the sun. “Do you think we are in love in every universe?” He then looked at you, putting his hands behind his head he smiled softly and said “I think so… of course we are.”

Note: it’s super short and I apologize for that! I lost my train of thought halfway through. anyways THANKS FOR READING!!!!

[eyluvu]

Everywhere, everything. Wanna love you 'til we're food for the worms to eat. 'Til our fingers decompose, keep my hand in yours.

Everywhere, Everything by Noah Kahan is my favourite song rn and it's so percabeth coded.

[lynxindisguise]

“What’s wrong?” Rootmus groans.

“Can’t sleep,” he murmurs apologetically, though probably not as apologetic as he should be.

Rootmus stares at him, blinking slowly. After a painstaking moment, he uncurls a branch from around himself and opens it to Sirius.

[kaaaaaaarf]

okay, I have updated the playlist for everywhere, everything by @lynxindisguise up to the most recent chapter!! If I find the bandwidth I'll make actual posts explaining my choices over the next few days, but if not they are there for you to enjoy!! For the most parts the titles/lyrics speak for themselves. <3

screenshots of the songs by chapter under the cut:

Romantic era:

Wizards:

Everywhere: