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#house but i was dreaming so. okay. and i had a dream that i was playing an evil fucked up version of gi......like everything looked the
withwritersblock · 1 day
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Everywhere, Everything
~Everywhere, Everything by Noah Kahan~ Author's Note: this idea has been circulating my mind for weeks, so here you go fam. blah blah blah words italtics are flashbacks Summary: long distance, it's hard lol Warnings: angst, swearing Word Count: 5,221 Luke Hughes x fm!reader
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It was usual for her on Friday nights, if Luke was in town, for her to go to his house and spend the weekend with him. That was the plan, she had her duffle bag full to the brim of all of her clothing options and her school work necessities. She walked up the steps to see Ethan and Dylan were sitting on the porch drinking some beers.
“Have you talked to Hughesy yet?” Dylan asked, stopping Y/N in her tracks to spin around to meet his gaze. She shook her head slowly. He nodded while pressing his lips together, “You should-” he trailed off as he brought his drink to his lips again.
She stood still for a few seconds, her duffle bag feeling heavier by the second. Her gaze shifted between the pair of the boys, what were they implying? She took a deep breath as she entered the house. It was empty, but it was usually like that for Friday night. She walked down the hall towards Luke’s room and knocked before she pushed her way inside.
He was throwing random things into a bag when he lifted his gaze, he smiled so wide. “Baby,” he mumbled, dropping the pair of socks he had in his hand into the back. He engulfed her in a hug, savoring the moment. “They called,” he whispered into her ear. 
She felt her chest tighten as she felt her eyes tear up. She pulled away to meet his gaze. His cheeks flushed red as his smile was still wide and bright. His eyes scanned her features. 
“I’m so proud of you, my love,” she whispered, looking deeply into his eyes. He pressed his lips together shyly as he pulled away from her grasp, back towards the bag on the bed. She delicately placed hers on the floor. Clearing her throat, she questioned, “When do you leave?”
“Sunday morning, my flight is at like four in the morning.” he let out while shaking his head, he lifted his gaze towards her. She was nodding slowly, staring at the floor. “I only found out like two hours ago, I wanted to tell you in person,” he mumbled as he took steps towards her once more. 
He took a hold of her arms, scanning her teary features. “We’ll make it work, I will promise you that,” he said, tilting his head to try and maintain eye contact with her. 
She clenched her jaw as she smiled softly. “We’ll have the summer to worry about that,” she whispered as she rested her hand onto his chest. “Let’s just celebrate,” she mumbled.
“Celebrate?” he asked, raising his eyebrows fighting the smirk on his lips. She rolled her eyes playfully as she shoved him backwards slightly. 
“I meant dinner,” she teased before she took a hold of his hand, guiding him out of his room. “And then maybe some of that,” she spun around to meet his gaze, smirking.
“Aw, you’re taking me out to dinner, how sweet,” he teased. She gasped playfully.
“No sir, you’re paying with that big ‘ol NHL contract you’re about to get,” 
~~~
It was Luke’s last morning in Michigan before he was supposed to head to New Jersey for the rest of the season. They were laying in her bed, in her apartment, in silence. Her head rested on his chest as he kept his gaze towards the ceiling. His hand trailed delicately up and down her bare back.
“Are we doing this?” he asked, his voice hoarse. 
It was only a four word question but it held so much value. The entire summer they went back and forth on what would be best. Long distance or breaking up. They’ve been together for almost two years. Two years they didn’t want to throw down the drain because he was moving and living his dream.
But long distance is hard, harder than anyone could suspect when getting involved in a relationship. 
“Yeah,” she let out barely above a whisper as she absentmindedly ran her fingers up and down his chest. “We’re going to be okay,” she mumbled as she lifted her head to meet his eye.
He had a soft smile on his lips as his hand glided up her back, running his fingers through the ends of her hair. “Any time there’s a free weekend and I’m back in Jersey, you tell me and I’ll book your flight. No hesistation,” he mumbled. She nodded.  She leaned towards him, pressing her lips against his delicately. It was soft and intimate.
“Baby,” he mumbled against her lips. She pulled away, her breathing faster than before. She opened her eyes slowly, meeting his gaze. “I-” he started before he took a hold of the back of her neck softly as he pulled her towards him, kissing her urgently. 
Her finger tips grazed his skin, as she delicately took a hold of his chin. “I have to get ready to leave,” he said, pulling away. She kept her eyes shut, before she pecked his lips for a few seconds. She leaned her body away from him, letting him slip away from her. 
She fell onto her back, watching him get dressed before he wandered towards the bathroom. Her eyes shifted towards the ceiling fan, she watched it spin as she felt her eyes tear up. He reappeared after a few seconds, he wandered towards the hat sitting on the end table. He reached towards it.
“Wait,” she mumbled. He met her teary gaze, clenching his jaw. It was a Michigan beanie. It was one of her favorites that he wore. He wore it for the majority of the season last year, swore it was lucky. “Can you leave it?” she let out barely above a whisper. He glanced towards it and back towards her and nodded quickly.
“Of course,” he muttered leaning towards her, kissing her forehead, “I’ll dig into my bag to find a different one,” he smiled softly towards her before he wandered towards the living room. 
She stood up from the bed and began to get dressed in a hoodie and a pair of comfy shorts. He didn’t want her to travel to the airport with him, he was having Dylan drive him. She walked into the living room to see him adjusting the beanie on his head in her circle mirror. She smiled towards him, her heart beating loud and dramatically in her ear. 
He tilted his head to the side as he met her gaze, he felt tears fill his eyes. Suddenly aware of what this means. Her lips fell into a pout as she stepped towards him, he quickly engulfed her in a hug. He took a hold of the back of her head, holding her as close as he possibly could. His watch buzzed, he glanced down to see a text from Dylan.
“Duker’s here,” he mumbled before he pressed his lips to her forehead. She pulled her head away from his chest, scanning his features. He took a hold of her cheeks, rubbing his thumbs against her skin. “I love you,” he mumbled, looking deeply into her eyes. 
“I love you too,” she whispered, her voice cracking. He leaned towards her, kissing her urgently; knowing it’s the last time for months.
He reluctantly pulled away from her, pressing his lips together. He wiped his hand across his eyes, drying the tears. Majority of his stuff was in Jersey already, so he only had his suitcase he packed for the last two weeks in Michigan. He took a hold of it, turning around to look at Y/N. 
She shook her head, “You have to go now,” she mumbled, spinning around to not look at him. He stayed still, “I can’t watch you leave, you-you have to just go,” she said through a sob. He felt his heart shatter, he was going to miss her so much. 
“I love you,” he let out, walking towards the door. He dragged his suitcase behind him, “I’ll call you when I get to Jack’s, show you the apartment,” he explained as he walked towards the door, opening.
“Okay,” she let out.
He looked towards her, taking in a shaky breath before he forced himself out the door. The apartment door shut behind him. He continued down the hallway, letting himself cry. He wasn’t a crier. He rarely cried about anything but right now that’s all he could do. 
It didn’t take long for him to get down and out of the building. Dylan was sitting in his car right in front of the apartment building. Luke opened the trunk of the car and dropped his suitcase inside. He slammed it shut before he walked towards the passenger seat. He fell down into the seat and wiped his eyes once more. 
“Hey man,” Dylan let out as he began driving away from the apartment. 
“Hey, sorry I’m being a-” he trailed off as he shook his head, he wiped his eyes once more while taking a deep breath. 
“Don’t apologize, she’ll be alright. We’ll look out for her. You’ll be alright, you got your brother, and the NHL,” Dylan expressed as he slapped his hand against Luke’s shoulder. Luke nodded as he kept his jaw clenched. 
“Harder than I thought,” he mumbled as he ran his hand across his chin.
Back in Y/N’s apartment, she was sitting on her couch as she watched Friends. Her apartment door was pushed open to reveal her roommate and best friend, Penelope. She dropped her purse onto the counter and quickly moved towards Y/N on the couch. 
Y/N lifted her head to meet Penelope’s gaze. Y/N had been crying, the entire time since Luke left fifteen minutes ago. “I couldn’t look at him, I couldn’t watch him walk away,” she mumbled. Penelope pulled her towards her side, comforting her the best she could. 
“But you guys are still together?” she questioned.
“Yeah but I won’t see him for months, I’m not strong enough for this,” Y/N cried out. 
“Yes, yes you are, you two are meant to be,” Penelope mumbled as she stroked Y/N’s hair. “It’s just for a year and a half right? You took summer courses this summer, got ahead. It’ll be okay, you guys will get through it,” 
~Oct. 12~
She was sitting in front of her vanity, finishing her makeup for her evening out on the town. Penelope, the UMich hockey team, their partners, and herself were all going to one of the local sports bars. Tonight was the opening game of the regular season for the Devils and the Red Wings. 
So they wanted to go watch and support Luke.
It was three hours until game time and Luke was starting to FaceTime her. She perked up excitedly as she set up her phone against the mirror as she accepted the call. He was getting ready in the bathroom, he was shirtless with his hair dripping wet still. Her eyes widened at the sight, he chuckled as he saw the shocked look on her features. 
“Hey, love,” she mumbled as she smiled widely. 
“Where are you going looking all pretty?” he asked as he leaned down towards the camera, trying to get a better look. She smiled shyly as she dropped her gaze towards the mascara in her makeup bag. The second to last step in her routine. 
“A whole bunch of us are going to Scorekeepers to watch your game,” she said excitedly as she began untwisting her mascara to apply it to her eyes. 
“Wait really?” he asked, his cheeks flushed red instantly.
“Yeah, the team is going to be there, they’re bringing their girlfriends and Penelope is coming with me too,” she explained as she began applying her mascara.
He ran a towel over his hair harshly, specifically at that moment so she wouldn’t tell him to stop. “That’s great, I hope you have fun,” he mumbled as he dropped the towel to the floor, he took a hold of some of his hair products as he began to style his damp hair.
“We will, are you nervous?” she questioned dropping the tube into her bag before she reached for her highlighter. She watched him shake his head. “That’s good,” she muttered. 
“My game day looks are going to be rough without you doing my hair for me,” he expressed, a chuckle leaving his throat as he looked towards his phone screen to meet her gaze.
She smiled widely while letting out a giggle, “It looks cute,” she mumbled. He smiled softly as he scanned her features through the phone screen, his chest aching. 
“Can you visit this weekend? I’ve got a game tomorrow but then I just have practices Saturday and Sunday,” he asked, his body erupting in tingles as his breath caught in his throat. 
Her smile faltered slightly, “I’ve got to work this weekend, my love, I need the money.”
He nodded as he clenched his jaw. “Okay, yeah,” he cleared his throat, “We’ll plan for another weekend. We’ll figure it out,” he said, forcing a smile onto his lips. She pouted her lip as she tilted her head back blinking rapidly, “It’s okay, baby, we’ll find a weekend,” he reassured. She nodded. 
It was several hours later and it was halfway through the first period. She sighed as yet another man walked up beside her and began flirting with her. “Let me buy you a drink,” he muttered, raising his hand up to try and get the bartender's attention. He failed.
“No, I’m okay, thank you though,” she muttered as she met his kind gaze. 
“Okay, no problem. I’m Dean,” he introduced himself, offering his hand to her. Y/N scanned his frame, ashamed of the butterflies circluating her stomach. She shook his head.
“Y/N, but I should tell you I have a boyfriend,” she explained, smiling. His smirk fell from his lips for only a moment before he smiled again.
“Cool, is he here with you?” he asked, glancing around the bar for some sign of said boyfriend. His gaze lands on an angry looking Dylan in the corner of the bar. 
“He’s not, no,” she mumbled, bringing the glass of water towards her lips. She took a sip while maintaining eye contact. “We’re long distance,” she explained. He nodded, leaning his body against the bartop. 
“Where does he live?” Dean pressed on, it wasn’t to try and make a move on her. It was more curiosity than anything. 
“Jersey,” she said, glancing back towards the screen to see the power play on the ice. Luke on the ice. Her eyes admired the forty-three on the ice before she looked back towards Dean. 
“Wait,” Dean said, glancing at the TV and then back down towards her. “Is your boyfriend Luke Hughes?” he questioned. She furrowed her eyebrows harshly, as she slowly nodded. “He’s one lucky guy,” he said, scanning her frame once more, biting his bottom lip in the process. He didn’t say anything else before he wandered away from her. 
She found herself smiling, she forced the smile off of her lips as she switched her gaze to the TV screen just as Jack scored. The UMich team erupted in cheers, while everyone else in the bar groaned. 
Dylan stepped in front of her, a scowl on his lips. “What are you doing?” he questioned harshly.
She clenched her jaw as she met Dylan’s gaze, “What?” she asked quietly. 
“What was that? You have a boyfriend, you know,” he accused. Her mouth fell open as she let out a huff of air. 
She clenched her jaw as she felt her skin get hot and her eyes filled with tears. “Luke’s been gone for almost two months,” she began, she paused as she took a shaky breath, “We talk once a day and it’s only to update each other about our lives. I miss my boyfriend and I’m sorry but I miss the attention,” she said, throwing her arms in the air. 
Dylan tilted his head to the side, a sad smile on his lips.
“I miss getting kissed,” she started, a tear falling onto her cheek, “I miss talking about anything other than hockey. I miss being held. I miss being flirted with. I miss my boyfriend. But I can’t see him because I have to work my stupid minimum wage job every weekend because I can’t afford to not work! So excuse me, if I want to enjoy the attention of an unfortunately cute boy!”
“Y/N,” he mumbled.
“I don’t need this,” she mumbled, meeting Dylan’s gaze, “I’m going to watch the rest of the game at home,” she said standing up from her barstool. 
“Y/N don’t, come on, I’m sorry. He’s my best friend-I was just-” he ranted on but she walked away, out of the bar towards her car. 
The game finished with a win and Luke finally looked at his phone once he stepped inside the apartment with Jack behind him. There was one text from Y/N and about fifteen texts from Dylan. 
Duker: Dude! Awesome win
Duker: You played fucking great! Listen though, call me? I gotta tell you something
Duker: damn dude the game ended like an hour ago, call me?!
Duker: HELLO!? HUGHESY??
The messages continued on like that. He furrowed his eyebrows harshly as he pulled his phone to his ear as he called him. “Dukes, what's wrong?” Luke asked, glancing toward Jack before he wandered into his bedroom. 
“Hey man, you played great, so proud and all that. Call your girlfriend more,” he began. Luke's face scrunched together at the sudden statement.
“What?” Luke let out.
“She’s miserable and you only calling her once a fucking day isn’t helping,” Dylan expressed.
“What are you talking about?” Luke questioned as he kicked his shoes off and shoved them towards the side table. 
“She’s lonely and misses you. She’s-you have no right to get pissed at her when I tell you this by the way,” he paused. Luke’s eyes widened as he slowly sat down on his bed, “She’s letting guys flirt with her at bars because you aren’t giving her any attention,” 
He clenched his jaw hard as his fist tightened as he slammed his fist against the mattress. He licked his lips as he tilted his head back. Shutting his eyes he let out a long drawn out breath. 
“She could call me too,” he let out, “If-if she’s-”
“Come on, man, she doesn’t want to be an inconvience to you. You’re living a life none of us understand,” he let out. 
Luke tilted his head back, feeling his eyes fill with tears, “I can’t hear her voice more than once a day because I miss her so fucking much I can’t think about anything else,” 
“Tell her that Hughesy, come on,” Dylan said, a huff of air leaving his lips. “Call her,” Dylan demanded before he hung up the phone. Luke slowly dropped his phone from his ear as he pulled up her contact.
He stared at the profile photo, it was a photo of them after their one year anniversary. He was kissing her cheek as she was smiling widely. He pressed the call button as he pulled it towards his ear, he laid down on his back. He stared towards the ceiling. She answered on the second ring. 
“Hey,” she mumbled, her voice cracking, “Great job tonight, my love,”
He shut his eyes, feeling like a weight collapsed on his chest. “Thank you, beautiful,” he let out, his voice scratchy. It was silent for a few seconds, “I fucking miss you,” he let out, a sob climbing in his throat. 
“This is harder than we thought, huh?” she let out, clearly crying. He swallowed hard as he pressed his lips together.
“Request off the weekend before Halloween, please,” he begged, “I need to see you,” he continued. She swallowed hard as she hummed. 
After a couple minutes, the conversation wasn’t filled with sadness as they chatted about the game. “It’s going to take a while to get used to,” he let out, a chuckle leaving his throat. She hummed breathily. 
He was laying in bed, staring towards the ceiling, biting his bottom lip as he began to remember the last morning of them together. The feeling of her lips on his skin, her breathy moans in his ear. He craved her, he needed her yet she was so far away. 
“Hey,” he let out barely above a whisper, tilting his head back. 
“Yeah?” she let out, a smile forming to her lips. 
“You alone?” he asked. She let out a soft giggle.
~Feb~
The broadcast team announced that Luke would not be returning to the game due to a lower body injury. She was pacing back and forth, Penelope trying to calm her down. It was no use. It was probably precautionary because got off the ice on his own accord but right now all she can think about is that he was out for the remainder of the season. He was going to be in a bad mood all of the time now. 
It was his rookie year, she understood that he was stressed, allowing him to have those days. He needed those days to fully process everything he was going through. The game was slowly coming to an end, a loss for the Devils. It seemed like that was becoming more and more common this season. 
“He’s probably fine,” Penelope offered again, her jaw clenched hard as she spoke. Remaining on the couch, she continued to watch Y/N pace back and forth.
“Please don’t-” she mumbled before her phone began to vibrate in her pocket, it was Luke. She pulled the phone to her ear, “Baby?” she questioned as she wandered towards her bedroom, away from Penelope. 
“Hey, my love, I’m alright.” he began, he took in a sharp breath, “It looked worse than it is,” he explained. He sounded out of breath but he was probably walking back towards his car. He had driven seperate from Jack. 
“Are you sure? You’re walking okay?” she questioned as she ran her hand across her mouth. 
He hummed, “They gave me the option if I wanted to go back but I’d rather take the rest of the period off and rest for the next roadie,” he explained. She tilted her head back, letting out a long drawn out breath, “I promise I’m all good, We’ll watch a movie later, okay?” 
They were starting to do that most nights, use Teleparty to watch movies together and just enjoy each other’s presence. It helps a lot with their relationship. They rarely talk but it helps them. 
“Yeah, yeah, miss your face,” she muttered as she let out a dry chuckle. 
A wide smile formed on his lips as he dropped in his driver seat of his car. He tilted his head back. “God, I miss you,” he mumbled as he clenched his jaw. “When’s your spring break?” he asked as he connected his phone to bluetooth. He buckled his seatbelt.
“March seventeeth to March twenty-fourth,” she mumbled, a small smile on her lips.
While pulling out of his parking spot, “I’ll book your flight, you’re visiting,” he said with a smile as he waited at the red light. She giggled, it was like music to his ears. “And don’t pull the whole, I got to work because I’ll send you your paycheck to make up for it,” he said with a small chuckle. 
“Luke, don’t even think about it,” she said while laughing, she collapsed down onto her bed, staring towards the ceiling. “But that was the plan, of course,” she expressed. 
“Good because the second I get home, I’m booking you a first class flight,” he explained as he continued driving, the smile on his lips never wavering. 
“Okay, my love, call me when you get back home,” she mumbled as she kept her gaze on the ceiling fan. 
“I will, find a movie for us,” he let out as he hung up the phone.
After another thirty minutes, Luke was sprailed out on his bed, shirtless as he propped up his laptop beside him. His hair was wet across his forehead as he took a cold shower once he got home. 
He heard a knock on his door as Jack pushed open the door, “Hey man how’s that-oh,” he let out as he stared towards Luke’s appearance and his laptop, “Am I interrupting anything,” he trailed off. Luke chuckled nervously, squinting his eyes slightly. His cheeks flushed red.
“No, she’s not even on FaceTime yet,” Luke mumbled, chuckling. He rolled onto his back to meet Jack’s gaze. Jack nodded slowly, a smirk forming on his lips. “What do you want?” Luke asked with a smirk on his lips.
“You seem like you’re in a good mood,” Jack crossed his arms over his chest, still smirking. Luke nodded.
“My girlfriend is coming to visit in three weeks for the whole week,” he sing songed, Jack’s mouth fell open as he smacked his hand against Luke’s shoulder.
“That’s great! You need to see her,” Jack mumbled, “How’s that knee?” he crossed his arms over his chest again. Luke shrugged as Y/N began calling him.
“Hurts, but it’s just a strain, it’ll be fine,” he said. He brought his finger to his lips as he answered the phone. He didn’t need her to know that it was a bit worse than he told her. Jack shook his head as he walked out of the room, shutting the door. 
~April 3rd, 2024~
It was the most anticipated game in the hockey world for a few days now. It was late in the third and the Devils were down by a goal. Luke had practically played the entire game, over thirty minutes in ice time. He was exhausted. He was frustrated. All she wanted to do was to give him a hug and cuddle him. 
Luke skates with the puck, sluggish and tired. He was pushing through it the best he could. She covered her mouth with her hands as he wrists a shot towards the net, the game ended a few seconds later. He skates towards the bench with the rest of his teammates behind him. 
Penelope wasn’t there to watch the game with her tonight, which was probably for the best. She had a feeling it would be a while till he called her. She shot up from her couch and began to walk towards her bathroom. 
She walked through the airport, searching for Luke. He was standing beside a girl, forcing a smile on his lips as they took a photo. She thanked him quickly before she quickly walked away from him. Luke dropped his head, laughing nervously.
Y/N continued manuvering through the crowd of people. His eyes widened once he spotted her. It only took a few more steps before she let go of her suitcase and jumped into his arms. 
Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck as her cheeks pressed against his cheek. He wrapped his arms around the center of her back. Her eyes shut tightly as she felt her chest tighten. 
“I love you,” she mumbled as ran her fingers through the ends of his hair. It was longer than the last time she saw it. 
“I get you the whole week, how lucky am I?” he muttered into her ear as she slowly slipped down his body. Her hands glided from the back of his neck, towards his cheeks. She rested her hands on his cheek as she scanned his flushed features. He leaned towards her, kissing her urgently, not afraid of any wandering eyes or cameras that could catch the moment.
He needed her to be as close as possible. His hands tightened on her waist, pulling her body towards him, “Come on, Baby girl, we’ve got the apartment to ourselves for a couple hours,” he whispered against her lips.
She finished showering, putting on a tanktop and a pair of shorts as she began to clean up her bedroom. She was wandering around her room, picking up random ideas to organize the place. 
After a few minutes, she received a FaceTime call from Luke. She quickly sat down on her bed, answering the call instantly. She brushed a wet piece of hair away from her face as she stared towards Luke. He was showered as well, laying on his bed. His head was tilted back against the headrest. 
His eyes were evidently scanning her face on his screen. He clenched his jaw as he took in a sharp breath. He shut his eyes hard as he began tearing up. 
“I’m so tired,” he let out, his voice cracking as he spoke. Her lips fell into a pout as she scooted back against the bed. “I don’t know if I can do this,” he let out barely above a whisper. He opened his eyes, as a tear fell onto his cheek.
“Hey, hey, what do you mean?” she asked, furrowing her eyebrows. He shook his head as he pressed his lips together.
“I can’t handle the pressure, it’s too much,” he let out, another tear falling onto his cheek. 
“Baby, it was a tough game-”
“It wasn’t just the game though, Can’t open Twitter without seeing everyone hate on me. I can’t do this,” he let out while shaking his head. 
Y/N clenched her jaw as she tilted her head to the side. “Luke, it’s just a bad stretch of games. It’s not just on you, you need to take some weight off your shoulders,” she tried to help him. 
“I can’t do that, I can’t do anything right,” he said, crying, tilting her head to the side as she met his gaze through the phone screen. “I miss you, I just wish you were in Jersey with me. I can’t handle another year of this,” he groaned out.
“I miss you too, my love. Luke, you are stronger than you think. I love you so much, you will get past this, you will find a way out. You are going to be just fine. The season is almost done, you’ll get a lot of rest. And you’ll see me for months straight to the point you’ll get tired of me,” she said with a sad smile forming on her lips. His lips curled upward slightly, a dry chuckle leaving his throat. 
“Not possible, I could never get tired of you,” he said, happy to hear those words, “What if,” he paused as his eyebrows furrowed harshly in thought, “What if I stayed with you for a few days after the season is done?” he asked. Her eyes lit up excitedly.
“What if you stayed until the semester ends?” she asked, a smile on her face.
“Would Penelope be okay with that?” he asked.
“Baby, I think she would rather you be here all the time than hear me cry about missing you another minute,” she said with a wide smile, “And I’m sure the boys would love to see you,” she expressed. 
“Then it’s a plan,” he said with a smile, his tears no longer falling. “I love you so much,”
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winterstorm032802 · 2 days
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[You run quickly to them. You need to. You need to.]
[Past the old man and those kids, past Mirabelle who is about to question.]
[Down.]
[There!]
"Hey Bo-"
[You hug them with all of your might.]
[You can barely breathe as you hold them. You watched... watched as they were held by that stupid crabbing King..!]
"I'm sorry, Frin!"
"Huh?"
"I'm so so so sorry! I was such a crabbing idiot! I'm sorry!"
[You hold them tighter, maybe as tight as the King did...]
"Hey, what's wrong? You look nervous."
"The King! He had you, I was so crabbing stupid to think that it would work. I got you killed! I'm sorry! Its all my fault."
"Bonnie?"
[Your words keep spilling.]
"I'm sorry, Frin! I let you die! The King killed you! He had you!"
"Bonbon!"
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
[You can barely let go of Siffrin. You feel horrible.]
[You want to throw up. Whatever food you made last loop for the others... you want to throw it all up.]
[All you can see is the King... grabbing Frin and squeezing as he spoke of Wishes and all.]
[But... it's not Frin's fault. Isn't it yours? Because you can't figure out how to escape... isn't it your fault?]
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"Hey, hey..."
[Siffrin's arms wrap around your body.]
"Deep breathes. You must've had a bad dream. We haven't even left for the House."
"Right... we haven't."
[You breathe. You haven't gone into the House yet. Siffrin hasn't... not in this loop.]
[But you let Frin die.]
[You were stupid... you just watched...]
"It's okay Bonbon. It's okay now."
[...]
[. . .]
[Y o u h o l d o n t o F r i n]
"It was a bad dream. Just a horrible crabbing dream."
"It's okay, I'm here."
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[It's okay...]
"Uh, you're kinda squeezing me a bit tightly."
[Hah... hahaha... hahahahahaha...]
"...sorry..."
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.
.
.
I felt like making this child sad. (Probably not canon, but I think that Bonnie would just spill as soon as they see Siffrin after Act 3.)
In Recipes and Repetition is a Bonnie looping au made by @startagainaprologue
Edits are made by me.
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frogserotonin · 3 days
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overthinker- lars pinfield x reader
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a/n: short one bc im still in a slump rn many sorries. also sorry lawl this fic is so disconjointed and i’m really unhappy with it but whatever 😭 warnings: nothin proper i don’t think, most ooc lars to ever ooc, unedited; tell me if i've spelt smth wrong 😁
“Would you want to go out to get some lunch together on our break?” Your fingertips bounce off of the sides of your legs as you try to remain composed. You're so high-strung right now, you almost expect him to laugh in your face. Nerves and the effects of having slept a fitful two hours last night override your usually rational brain and you feel the need to just run away without receiving an answer bloom in your chest.
“I thought you usually brought lunch? If you forgot to bring some you can have some of mine, if you want.” Lars doesn’t even look up from what he’s working on, just adjusts his glasses and uses a vague jut of his elbow to point to his locker, where you know his bag is. Your heart simultaneously drops and stutters. 
“Oh, it’s okay, I just felt like going out to eat, thank you though.” You try to make your words seem more upbeat than you feel, unsure of whether or not to take his words as a rejection.
“Oh. Okay then.” It must be your imagination, but his words hold a hint of disappointment. You open your mouth again, then close it, and silence re-envelopes the room. Turning, you make your way to your desk and begin to work away, dejection slumping your shoulders forward and making time drag on. When eventually the lunch break arrives, you grab your bag and rush your way out of the lab.
A squeak of shoes on the concrete floor behind you almost has you looking back, but your brain is so addled you almost believe you’ve made it up.
Like a fool, you don't talk to him when you come back, or when you leave, the time you spend alone and in silence building up an anxiety in the back of your mind. The idea that he's all too aware of your feelings, and is made uncomfortable by them and your advances overtakes you completely. That night, you stay awake, tossing and turning, over analysing every interaction you've ever had with him, trying to make sure you've not overstepped and made a complete and utter fool of yourself.
In the morning, you consider it a miracle you leave the house at all, with how tired you are. The thought of calling in sick crosses your mind, but by the time you get up your body automatically locks itself into its usual routine, and you mindlessly get dressed and make your way to the Ghostbusters facilities. Through your drowsiness, the realisation that you’re at your desk and doing absolutely nothing sets in and you jolt. 
“Good morning.” If he didn’t sound so concerned, Lars would sound thoroughly amused. “You alright? Look a bit…off.” Your face flares, and you go to stand up, only to stumble and almost fall on your face. Hands out, you stabilise yourself, and then face him.
“Yeah. Morning.” You can only hope that he backs off, because his concern seems too genuine for your feelings to not expand exponentially the more he stands before you looking like he cares. “M’feeling just peachy, you?.” Belatedly, you realise your words are clearly not convincing because he doesn’t move an inch, simply studying you. He then sighs and shakes his head, chuckling a little bit, just softly under his breath, taking a couple steps closer to you. 
“When’s the last time you slept?” His voice is too gentle, too un-Lars-like, that you’re almost convinced you actually did fall asleep last night, and now you’re dreaming. You open your mouth to respond, but find yourself nodding off as you do so, the last thing you process before fully passing out is the feeling of arms around your chest and shoulders. 
When you come to, you sit up quickly, and slowly become aware of what had happened. Muttering cursing to yourself under your breath, you take in your surroundings, finding yourself slung over the small couch situated in the room reserved for taking time off from work briefly. Hurriedly, you rush out of the room towards where you assume Lars is working, apology already on the tip of your tongue. You approach him quickly and loudly, a fact that can be gathered from his head immediately snapping up when you enter the room. He starts to speak, no doubt to rattle off reasons why you were irresponsible and stupid for coming to work while being aware you weren’t at your fullest capacity, but you cut him off.
“God, I’m so sorry. That was humiliating, and I’m so, so sorry that it happened, it won’t happen again.” You bow your head, refusing to look him in the eye, but quickly look up again when you hear him laugh. 
“It’s fine, really, you just scared me a little bit.” His smile is small, but sincere and you remember fully the reason you were in the predicament in the first place. “Are you feeling better now?” 
You probably look a bit crazy with how vigorously you nod, but you barely care anymore. 
“Yes, thank you so much, really, I’m sorry that it happened.” He laughs again, and it sounds like heaven.
“You don’t need to thank me or apologise,” Lars’ eyes sparkle a bit behind his glasses when he properly smiles, and you can feel warmth rush to your face. He hesitates, like he’s calculating his words, then gently says “I-uh. I care for you a lot, it really meant nothing for me to make sure you were okay.”
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cameronspecial · 3 days
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A New Kind Of Normal (Part 5)
Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: Relapse
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 3.5K
Summary: After a fight with his dad, Rafe makes another mistake that could cost him everything.
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Stella spots her dad easily in the crowd of parents and runs toward him. He picks her up, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “How was daycare, little witch?” Rafe asks. She moves in his arms to look at him, “Good. It was my turn to feed the fishy today.” For the past few weeks, Rafe has been picking up Stella at daycare and dropping her off at the diner. It was tiring at first to drive back and forward from the Outer Banks to the mainland every day, so he rented an apartment close to Y/N’s house to make the journey shorter. Ward wasn’t too pleased when Rafe started working remotely, but Sarah talked to Ward about it. “That’s sounds fun. Are you still mad at Sabrina?” he asks while buckling the little girl. She finds his eyes through the rearview mirror, “Yes, she stole my boyfriend.” “That’s okay, you’re too young to be dating anyway. Boys are yucky,” he laughs at the pouty face she gives him.
——
Y/N is refilling the sugar container when Rafe walks through the door. Her surprise is written on her face because Stella is at her grandparents’, so he doesn’t need to drop her off this evening. She sets the sugar down, “Hey, is everything okay?” “Yeah, just didn’t really know what to do with my time since I’m not dropping Stella off. I thought I’d keep you company,” he states, sitting down at the counter. She laughs, “I remember the first time my parents took her for the weekend. I had a lot of time on my hands and I didn’t know what to do, so I rearranged my spice cabinet three times.”
“That sounds fun. How did you arrange them?”
“By country of origin, and then by taste, and then by alphabetical order, which is how I already had it. So I’m glad to be your spice cabinet for this evening.” 
Harvey comes out from the kitchen and sees Rafe at the counter, “Hello, Rafe. I’ll be with you in just a moment.” “It’s okay, Harv. I’m going to the kitchen to get something to drink. I’ll put in his order in. You can head on your break once you serve your table,” she informs, putting the sugar back under the countertop. Patty receives his order and Y/N heads back out to stay with Rafe. “How has your day been?” she asks, sitting on the stool across from him still behind the counter. He looks up from his phone, “It was a little disappointing. Work was the same as ever and I didn’t get to see my little witch. Seeing you is the best part of my day. How about you?” Her heart flutters and she uses a cough as an excuse to hide the sparkly in her eye. “I like seeing you too,” she says, focusing on the countertop. He gives a little chuckle, “I was asking more about your day, but it’s good to know you appreciate my company.” 
He knows she turned him down for a date and it hurt at the time, but Rafe hasn’t given up hope. She said that she liked him and timing was the only issue. He just has to show her he can stay sober and be in a relationship with her. Her eyes shy away, “Now, I feel stupid. My day was not bad. Business is better than usual, which means more money for me.” “Don’t feel stupid, Buttercup. It’s a simple mistake. I’m glad that business is going well,” he comforts. 
The two engage in smile talk until Patty comes out to give Rafe his food. “Patty,  I could’ve brought out his food,” Y/N protests, moving out of the way so Patty can slide the plate directly in front of him. Patty gives him a warm smile, “I know, but I just love seeing this handsome face.” “Aww, Patty. I love seeing you too. If only I was a few years older,” he plays along. She shakes her head, “If only. I would never dream of taking you for Y/N/N though.” “Patty, he isn’t mine. He is free to do whatever he wants,” Y/N interjects, disappointing Rafe. He turns his attention to Y/N, “There isn’t anyone else that I want other than Stella.” She looks at him with shock, understanding the hidden meaning behind the look in his eyes. “Stella is one lucky daughter,” she states while breaking their eye contact. Harvey calls Y/N over to ask her a question and this ends their conversation. “You love her,” Patty remarks. Rafe nods his head, “I do, but she doesn’t love me.” “Just you wait. She’ll come around. You’re already on the right track. Stella is definitely the way to her heart,” Patty returns to the kitchen. 
——
With Stella away, Y/N decides to give Patty and Harvey the rest of the night off and she would close up shop for the day. What she didn’t anticipate was Rafe staying with her until she closed. He spent eight hours with her at the counter. About three hours in, he commandeered her laptop to keep himself busy as she took care of the customers. He would tell her random facts to catch her attention and tell her a joke to hear her melodic laugh. He would steal glances at her every so often. Unbeknownst to him, she would steal some right back. She told him multiple times that he didn’t need to stay, but he insisted he needed her company to fill the hole of Stella being gone. The last customer leaves the diner and Y/N locks up behind him.
She turns toward Rafe, who still hasn’t left, “Do you want something to eat? You have been here for eight hours.” “I could go for some fries, but only if you eat something too. You haven’t eaten since I got here,” he points out. Right on time, her stomach growls in a long low tone. She didn’t realize she skipped dinner and felt butterflies at the fact that Rafe was keeping an eye on her. “Okay, I’ll be right back.” 
Around fifteen minutes later, she returns with a place full of fries and a burger. She rounds the counter to sit beside Rafe and puts the plate between the two of them. “Do you want to watch a movie?” she questions, pulling her laptop to her to open Disney +.  His hand finds a fry, “Sure.” He lets her pick Ratatouille since it feels like fitting with them being in a restaurant and all. Y/N inspects the fries on the plate and before she can take the fry she decides on, Rafe mindlessly grabs the one she wants. The fry is near his mouth, but she grabs it out of his hand and shoves it in her mouth. “Hey! I was going to eat that, Buttercup,” he complains. She shrugs her shoulders, “I like the crunchy ones, Button. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t let you have this crunchy goodness.” 
“That’s awfully selfish of you. How are you going to make it up to me?”
The pair had unknowingly gotten closer to each other. Their faces are only about three inches away from each other. His breath finds her lips and it takes everything in him not to bring them to his. She stares into his eyes, trying to figure out what he wants her to say. “Well… I don’t have much, but how about I let Stella sleep over at your place next weekend? Does that make you feel better?” she genuinely offers. Upon seeing she is serious, his face turns to joy, “I would love to have her sleepover. I have to get the spare bedroom ready. Maybe get her a few toys and some-.” “Woah, slow down there, Button. She is only there for a night. You don’t need to do too much for her,” Y/N stops his tangent. 
“I know. I just want her to enjoy her weekend with me so she’ll want to come back. So I can prove that I am a good father.” 
“Rafe, no matter what you do, she will want to be with you. You are her father and that’s all she needs.” 
Her right hand finds the side of his face and she plays with the bottom of his earlobe. He leans into her touch, letting himself be comforted after he is a little vulnerable with her. Her eyes flicker down to his watch and she notices the time. “Damn, it’s late. I should probably start walking back home,” she worries, scrambling off the stool and cleaning up their late-night snack. He looks at his watch, “You are walking home? What happened to your car?” “Joshua asked to borrow it and since Stella is not with me, I said it was fine,” she notes as a matter of fact. He helps her clean up and takes out his car key, “I see. I’ll drive you home then.” “Rafe, you don’t have to. You know it isn’t that far for me to walk,” she tries to refuse. He shakes his head, “Y/N, I’m not letting the mother of my child walk alone close to midnight. So, don’t worry about it and let me drive you.” She stops arguing and gets to work quickly cleaning up.
Once she closes the diner, they walk side by side to his car. He notices the goosebumps running up her arm and shrugs off his grey North Face jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders. She whispers a thank you. They get into the car and make their way to her house. He walks her to the door with his fingertips itching to touch hers. At the door, they turn to each other, looking into each other’s eyes. He takes a tentative step forward and she doesn’t move back. He is about to take a chance and lean in for a kiss when the door flings open to reveal Benedict.   
“Finally, you’re back. You sure took your sweet time with closing. Hey, Rafe. Y/N, do you have any mayo? I feel like eating just straight-up mayo,” Benny interrupts, walking away from the door to the kitchen. She pulls away from Rafe and follows her brother inside, devastating Rafe. He slowly enters the house after a few seconds to see the siblings bickering about Benny eating only mayo. The domestic sight makes him feel left out, so he bids goodbye to the pair. He is almost to the door when Y/N catches up to him. “Button, wait,” she calls out, gently grabbing his arm above his elbow. “I wanted to say thank you for keeping me company tonight. And for taking me home. I know you didn’t have to stay and that part of the reason you did is because of me. So thank you.” He looks back at her with a soft smile, “No problem. I have to protect the woman I lo- I have to protect the woman who gave birth to my baby girl.” She caught what he was about to say, nails finding their way between her teeth. “Right, well… goodnight,” she mutters, stepping back into her house. He moves back towards the sidewalk, “Goodnight.” Y/N waits for Rafe to be out of sight before closing the door.
——
Rafe opens the door to his apartment to find Ward Cameron waiting with an annoyed look on his face. “What do you want?” Rafe grumbles, leaving the door open and walking away from it. Ward enters the room, “You can’t keep living here. You need to come back to the Outer Banks.” “No, I don’t. I’ve been keeping up with my work and going back when we had a meeting. So I don’t see a problem,” Rafe argues, going to the kitchen to pour himself some water. 
“When are you going to realize that you are just playing pretend? That you are eventually going to get tired of playing family. It’s better you realized that sooner rather than later.”
“You have no idea what you are talking about. I’m not going to leave my family. You always say that family comes first and that’s what I’m doing.”
“Listen, Rafe. I know you and the only thing that you can stay committed to is coke and the family business. So stop kidding yourself.”
Rafe shakes his head in frustration, “Well, I’ve changed. I want to give my daughter the support you never gave to me but you gave to Sarah.” “When you realize this is all a mistake, don’t come crying to me to fix this problem. I already told you to sign a paper saying you’d only give child support,” Ward warns, heading back out the door. Rafe yells in frustration, throwing a water bottle at the wall. He doesn’t understand the point of his father coming over just to tell him he is going to end up abandoning his family. It drives Rafe crazy that Ward thinks he knows everything about his son when Ward barely takes the time to talk to him. His feelings for his dad come cropping up and he needs something to relieve the stress. 
A knock on the door causes him to stop his tantrum. Shit, he forgot he is supposed to have Stella over for tonight. A second knock comes when he is splashing water on his face to calm down. At the third knock, he opens the door to see an excited Stella and a nervous Y/N. His daughter walks into the apartment as if she lives there while Y/N notices Rafe’s emotion. “Are you okay? She can sleep over next weekend if this is a bad time,” Y/N says. He doesn’t want to talk about it, “I’m fine. She can stay. I could use her company.” She isn’t sure if what he says is the entire truth, but she trusts him to know what he needs and if he needs his daughter, she won’t stop him. “Okay, well call me if you need anything. I’ll be at home all night,” she informs, heading inside to give Stella a kiss before she leaves. Rafe sighs once the door is locked, turning toward his daughter with a fake smile. “What do you want to do, little witch?” She gives him a massive grin and pulls something out from her bag, “Can I practice my face painting on you, Daddy? I can make you into a monster.” “Doesn’t that sound like a great idea? I would love to be your model.”
——
The evening he gets to spend with his daughter is the best he’s ever gotten to spend. They went on a Target run and got a variety of stuff. Toys. Clothes. Food. Board Games. Accessories. Anything she wanted found its way into their cart. He didn’t care about the looks he got for wearing skeleton makeup that Stella put on his face. It may be June, but it is never too early to celebrate the spooky season. They got back home after the shopping spree to make all the food and play all the board games they bought. He had just put her to bed when the bad thoughts started to creep back in. The doubts he is feeling about being a father start to seep through. So far, everything has been great. They always have so much fun. But what happens when the real struggles of parenting start to begin? When Stella won’t simply go to bed because he told her so. When she starts to resist his authority because the newest of having a dad is over. 
His hands are going crazy with fidgeting with his watch. The leg bouncing up and down is the only thing emitting a sound throughout the living room. He goes to call Diana and is sent to voicemail. He wants to call Y/N but thinks twice about it because he doesn’t want to worry her. He knows he shouldn’t but he needs to stop the voices in his head. The DVD case in the TV centre is calling to him. His feet lead him closer to what he shouldn’t be close to. He gets out the case and opens it up to find the little bag of powder. Before this day, he forgot he had stashed it there and that is why he hasn’t got rid of it yet. It’s okay if he has a little bit though, just a little. Maybe if he knows he should control himself, then it will be better than using more. He just needs a little something to stop his brain. 
He forms one line. One line should be enough. The relief he feels, once he snorts the line, begs him to do another. One more couldn’t hurt. He doesn’t realize he has gone through the whole bag until he can’t make any more lines. The energy he feels gets him up and moving. He cleans up the mess they made while cooking and organizes the board games they played. After a while he starts to crash, so he lies down on the couch to try and get some sleep but the coke isn’t letting him. He stares at the ceiling for hours until eventually, the mindlessness of sleep overcomes him, forgetting to clean up the evidence of what he did. 
——
Y/N taps the door as lightly as possible to hopefully not wake up Stella. She wants to help Rafe get breakfast ready for the little girl. The knock goes unanswered, so the next one that comes is a little harder. Rafe opens the door with a confused look that turns to panic when he sees who it is. “Hey, Button. Sorry to wake you up so early. But I thought I could help you make Stells some breakfast. I hope you have some eggs because I was thinking about making some eggs benedict,” she explains, heading toward the kitchen to place down the tote with the food she brought. Rafe scrambles to block her view of his coffee table, “Uh, yeah. The eggs are in the fridge.” He was too late. Her eyes are already narrowed at something in the living room and he knows she saw his last night late activities. 
She heads toward the table to make sure she is actually seeing what she thinks she is seeing. “You relapsed,” she mutters to herself in a calm and worrying tone. Rafe runs to her side, gently turning her to look at him, “Buttercup, I know I did. But I promised it wasn’t that much. I just needed something to stop my thoughts.” Her head starts to shake violently as she yanks her hand out of his hold and walks back slowly toward Stella’s room. The anger she feels is now showing, “If it wasn’t that much, then how come the bag is empty, Rafe? How much was in that bag? HOW MUCH COCAINE DID YOU DO WHILE MY DAUGHTER WAS UNDER YOUR CARE?” The blow comes in twofold. The first, she didn’t call him the playful nickname she always does. The second, she called Stella her daughter instead of theirs. 
“I know I screwed up, Buttercup. But I promise, she wasn’t awake.” 
“You don’t get to call me that right now. I don’t care if she is awake or not. I’m upset at the fact that you did drugs while she was in the house. That she could’ve woken up while you were sleeping and had access to the mess you left. Or worse, you died on the couch because you overdosed. ” 
“Of course, you are allowed to be upset. But it was a mistake. I’m sorry. It will never happen again. Y/N, please.”
“I can’t Rafe. I know that relapsing is sometimes a part of the journey to sobriety and I can forgive that. I can’t forgive putting Stella at risk.”
Y/N walks away in the direction of Stella’s room. All he can do is wait there as he hears the door open. “Stella. Baby, wake up. It’s time to go,” Y/N murmurs, kneeling beside the bed and running her fingers through Stella’s hair. The girl gently stirs, “Why, Mommy? I haven’t had breakfast yet.” “Because, Baby, Daddy needs to go somewhere so we have to go. We can make breakfast at home,” the mother explains, helping her daughter put of the bed. She knows Stella wants to debate more, but isn’t allowed to because Y/N is packing Stella’s stuff as fast as she can. 
Rafe is still standing there when Y/N comes back out with Stella in one arm and the little girl’s bag over the other shoulder. This makes him rush toward her, “Y/N, please. Don’t go. Please.” She ignores him and walks out the door, leaving the food she brought. He can hear Stella demanding to say bye to her Daddy and it rips his heart out as he hears Y/N firmly say no. He slams the door shut, screaming into the oblivion of his pain. 
Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @drewstarkeyswifehoe @kisstaya @magicalyoura @mp-littlebit @loverfu55ii @dark1paradise @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @alyisdead @emeloyy @js-a-writer @kisstaya @optimisticsandwichgladiator
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diazsdimples · 22 hours
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"Are you fucking kidding me?" + Buddie
This is meant to be 5 sentences but it just won't be dkfdjs
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Eddie looks up, shocked at Buck's sudden and violent outburst. "Buck? What happened?" Buck slaps his hands on the kitchen counter and breathes deeply through his nose, his phone flung unceremoniously to the side, screen still light and showing the email he'd just been reading. He looks furious, nostrils flaring and face turning gradually redder as he tries - and fails - to contain his anger. "Fucking wedding venue pulled out last minute. Apparently they've had a "better offer" from some dickhead influencer" Buck seethes, his lip curling over his teeth as he speaks. Eddie hasn't seem him this angry since his parents accused him of making a political statement when he bought Tommy to Maddie and Chimney's wedding 4 years ago, and he was apoplectic then. Eddie's honestly a bit alarmed. "It's okay, baby, we'll find somewhere else," Eddie soothes, getting up of his chair and coming to stand behind Buck. He wraps his arms around his fiancé and rests his head on Buck's shoulder, rubbing gentle circles across his ribs. "Eddie, the wedding is in a month. There is no way we're going to find a venue on time, let alone one that's going to have enough space," Buck groans as he rubs at his temples. He's honest to god shaking in Eddie's arms, white hot with rage, or is it disappointment? Fear? Fear that Eddie is going to be angry with him because the venue of their dreams is no longer available? Eddie grabs Buck's hips and spins him around so they're face to face. There are tears welling in Buck's eyes and he swipes at them furiously, barely concealing a sniff as he does so. "We have the wedding at Bobby and Athena's house, they've offered it as an option. And I'll cut down the guest list, I have absolutely no desire to have long lost cousins, Tios and Tias there anyway. Just us and our chosen family. Our real family. That's all that matters, right?" Eddie brushes away a rogue tear that trails its way down Buck's cheek as Buck sighs and looks at the ground, forlorn and dejected. "But it's not what we had planned," he sniffs. "It was gonna be perfect!" Eddie gently takes Buck's chin and angles his face towards him, not letting Buck escape his eye contact. "Sweetheart, as long as you're by my side, that's all that's needed to make it perfect. You and me, together, for the rest of our lives, yeah?" Buck lets out a small, watery chuckle and rests his forehead against Eddie's, releasing a deep breath as Eddie strokes his thumb over Buck's cheekbone. "Yeah, you're right." Eddie leans forwards and captures Buck's lips in a soft, slow kiss. Bucks lips are salty with tears and Eddie can feel the wetness of his eyelashes brush his cheeks as they move in tandem with one another, always completely in sync and able to anticipate the other's move. "I can't wait to make you my husband," Buck breathes as they break apart, and he brushes his nose against Eddie's, the tiniest movement that has Eddie's heart tripping over itself all over again. "Me either, mi amor." He runs his hands down Buck's arms, soothing out the tension, and links their fingers together. "Come on," he says, gently tugging Buck towards the couch. "Lets go call Bobby and Athena. We've got a wedding to plan."
Send me a sentence and a ship and I'll add to it!
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moonlightazriel · 19 hours
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Chapter 13: The past cannot be forgotten /// Azriel X F!Reader
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Summary: Y/N finally opens up to Azriel about Ruvyn. They finallly go to Koschei's home.
Word Count: 1,6K
Warnings: Just the usual angst.
Notes: My dumb ass accidentally posted this before i even posted the first chapters ughhhh
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Azriel sat in bed, watching her squirming and groaning, her eyebrows furrowed and sweat coating her forehead. He reached to wake her up when she jumped out of her slumber, sitting in bed with a panicked expression, hands grasping for his arm, eyes frantically scanning him for any injuries. 
“They took you, I saw Ruvyn kill you.” She sobbed, tears streaming down her pretty face. He pulled her to his lap, allowing her to cry on the crook of his neck. 
“Shh, it’s okay.” He rubbed her hair, noticing how this worked to calm her down faster. As she stopped her sobs and looked at him again with her red puffy eyes, he pulled her in for a kiss, gently cupping her cheeks and brushing her lips with his own. “Whenever you need to talk to me, I'm here for you.” He said after they parted the kiss.
“His name was Ruvyn.” She spoke, her voice hoarse from both crying and sleep. He watched her intensely. “Before our people became one, Ironteeths hunted Crochans down, to kill them for what their ancestors did to us. I met him in one of my huntings, he was different from the humans I met, he was charming, and something in me came back to life when I saw him for the first time.”
Her face dropped to an even sadder expression, like remembering those things were too painful, and they were, but she needed to let them go, she couldn’t keep allowing that Ruvyn’s ghost haunted her and sucked the life and joy out of her anymore.
“I fell in love with him and I kept coming back to him. He showed me things that I never thought I would have the chance of experiencing. He taught me how to dance, how to live, and how to love.” She rubbed her eyes. “The night I finally got the courage to be intimate with him was like a dream come true. I told him I loved him that night and he looked me in the eyes, like I truly meant something to him and told me he loved me too. When I woke up he had turned me in, ready to burn me at a stake. He told me so many awful things that I still carry with me to this day, he said I was going to die alone and no one would ever love a monster like me.”
The pain in her eyes was too much for Azriel to handle. He understood perfectly how hard it was hearing such harsh words directed at him, but it was totally different coming from someone she trusted with her heart. 
“I was able to free myself, the people who snickered at me started to scream and run away, i was never a monster Az.” She promised. “But that day I turned myself into what Ruvyn believed I was, I became the monster he made me. I killed the man I loved with my bare hands, I ripped his heart out for what he did to mine. I’m not proud of this but I can't erase what I did.”
“And you had every reason to do what you did, I can't imagine a betrayal like this.” She looked at him with worried eyes.
“You don’t think I'm a monster?” Her lower lip started to quiver like she was going to cry again.
“I could never think that of you.” He reassured her, pulling her in for another kiss. “I love you.” 
And despite not being able to tell him that she loved him too, she opened her heart to that feeling, something told her that this time would be different and she was willing to believe. 
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
After that morning, they got ready to talk to the rest of the house about their conclusions, finding the two males by the dining room having breakfast, Vassa was nowhere to be seen. Azriel and Y/N greeted them, sitting down to eat. 
“Did you two sleep well?” Lucien asked, always the kind host.
“We did, thank you Lu.” Y/N said. “But I guess the news we have for you isn't that good.” She sipped on her coffee. “Koschei is a Valg king.”
Her and Azriel shared all the information they gathered last night, including the one about Nesta, who according to the letter Azriel got late in the night, was being kept hidden at the cabin much to her dismay. Y/N couldn’t imagine what they had to do to keep Nesta locked against her will, and she wanted to end this soon so her friend would be free again. 
“So we’re basically fucked?” Jurian asked, biting a piece of toast with a smirk adorning his face.
“Precisely.” She motioned to Lucien. “Although our fire boy over there has a chance of killing him.”
“Me?” Lucien choked.
“Fire can kill a Valg, that’s how Aelin Galathynius killed Maeve, a Valg Queen.” She said it like it was obvious. 
“And you want me to Aelin my way into killing Koschei?” Y/N laughed.
“Yeah, she burned Maeve from inside out.”
“I don’t know if I can do that.” He protested.
“Then i suggest you find out very quickly cuz we need to kill him as soon as possible.” She shrugged. “But no pressure.”
“Yeah, no pressure.” Lucien mumbled underneath his breath, taking another sip of his hot coffee. 
“So who’s ready to have a tour of Koschei’s lair?” Jurian asked, excitedly getting up and clapping his hands, the groans he received as an answer just made him smile wider.
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
The cabin was made from dark wood, ageing poorly with time, the roof was covered in pine needles and the yard really needed a trim to look decent, what connected the land with the island that held the big cabin was a very old bridge, and a dark lake surrounded the area, like the Mother had forgotten about that place too. 
“This smells so awful.” Azriel said, scrunching his nose in clear disgust, the smell was putrid, like death. Exactly like the Valg smelled. 
“Did it always have this smell?” She asked the males behind her. 
“Gets worse every day.” Lucien replied.
“Especially when he releases those things.” Jurian added, making her whip her head back to look at him.
“What things?” Jurian started to describe the monsters he saw coming out, a wide variety of horrors with long claws, sharp teeth and bloodthirst.
“We kill some, but others disappear. Maybe they get killed in the courts, we don't know what they want.” Lucien explained and she nodded. 
“Fuck.” She cursed. “If he's indeed after Nesta’s power, this is his way to guarantee an army before he can open that damned gate.”
“How are you so sure he has a key?” Jurian inquired, eyebrows raised in suspicion.
“He got here somehow, he has the original key he had before he was bound to that lake. He has to.” It only made sense that he still had the key, if he was trying so hard to free himself. 
“She has a point.” Lucien waved his hands and Jurian rolled his eyes, mouthing the words back to him in a mockery tone, prompting the male to crack a smile.
“Shhhh, someone is coming.” Azriel shut the conversation down and everyone turned to see.
It was like time had come to a stop, cold spread across her body, freezing her in place as she took the male in. Short golden-blonde hair, ivory skin, broad shoulders and a sculpted body showing through the thin tunic he wore. Beautiful, lethally beautiful like Erawan was. He took a look around, and shining against the sun, his gold eyes, just like Manon’s and just like his younger brother. The eyes of a king.
He stretched his muscles and turned his head towards the sun, letting it warm his skin. A lazy smile appeared on his face and he turned his head towards them, with his eyes closed and a very deep voice, he spoke. 
“I don't like being watched.” He opened one of his eyes, looking directly into hers. 
She motioned for the males to keep quiet and stay in their place, kicking Azriel’s hands away when he tried to grab her ankle. She got up, climbing the hill they were hiding and started to walk in silence, stopping over the edge of the bridge. The male turned to her with a curious gaze. 
“You're not from here, you smell different.” He smiled sweetly at her. 
“I changed my soap yesterday, thanks for noticing.” She snickered and he openly laughed. 
“What a delight having someone so fun around.” He extended a hand to her, inviting her in, but she stayed rooted in place. “Aren't you here to see me?” 
“Yes.”
“Then come here, darling.” Azriel cursed as his shadows informed him that she started to cross the bridge, towards Koschei’ open hand. “What can I do for you?” His voice resonated through the trees.
“I've heard you can take all the pain away.” She replied, lies spilling from her plump lips. 
“You came to the right place, my sweet creature.” His hands wrapped around hers, and she almost flinched with how cold it was against her warm, sweaty and shaking hand. 
He pulled her hand towards his lips, kissing it with his eyes still locked with hers. He smiled again, pulling her closer to him, towards the open door of the cabin, exactly like she wanted.
“Allow me to properly introduce myself.” He bowed his head a little. “Despite the people of this land calling me Koschei, my name is Mantyx.”
She almost froze with the name, swallowing past the lump in her throat and forcing her legs to walk inside the cabin. Azriel watched in horror as she disappeared inside, the door closing itself after them, locking her inside with him.
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
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daddy-dins-girl · 13 hours
Text
Playdate - Chapter Ten
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Main Masterlist Series Masterlist
AO3 link
pairing: Marcus Pike x f! Reader x Dave York
Word Count: 7.4k
Chapter Summary: Of all the ways you managed to dream up in your head about seeing Dave again, this was never how you would have imagined it actually playing out.
Chapter Warnings: 18+ MDNI. (SPOILERS IN THE TAGS!) Angst. Alcohol consumption. Brief violence and mentions of blood. Dave's feelings deserve their own warning 🫠. Dave's idiocy also deserves its own warning (we're working on him okay?). Dave gets a little pushy/forceful/needy with Reader but there's no actual threat or non-con, but figured I should mention it (you are held against a wall at one point but never physically hurt or threatened). Mentioned smut (including sex toys, anal play, light bondage, etc.).
HUGE thank you to @janaispunk for beta'ing and just being amazing in general 💜
Notes: This chapter starts off with Dave's POV and switches to Reader, I just figured we could use a little insight into Dave.
~ DAVE ~
Knelt down on one knee on the lawn of his ex-wife’s house, Dave could give a shit about the wet grass stain he could feel seeping into the denim of his jeans as he wrapped his arms a little tighter around both his girls, giving them one final goodbye hug. He pulls back slightly, frowning when he sees their wet faces staring back at him. He has to swallow the hard lump in his throat to hold back his own tears that want to fall so he can be strong for them so instead he plasters on the best smile he can manage and brings both hands up to ruffle the hair on both their heads.
“Don’t be sad Angels, I’ll see you again in two weeks okay?” he assures them and they both slowly nod their heads. He knew it would be hard dropping them off today after having them for the entire summer, not only for them but for him as well. It was going to be difficult to go from seeing them every day back to once every two weeks. Not to mention he was now saying goodbye to the only distraction in his life that was holding him together these past couple of months.
“I miss you already Daddy,” his youngest, Alice pouts before her chubby little arms wrap around his neck once more and squeeze. Dave lets out a little chuckle and hugs her back tightly before pressing a kiss into her hair.
“I miss you too, babies,” he sighs.
“Why don’t you girls go inside and wash up now,” his ex-wife Carol finally speaks up from up on the porch at the front door. “Dinner’s almost ready. Steve’s making your favorite,” she announces and both girls' faces light up like kids at Christmas as they finally pull away from their father.
“Sketti and meatballs!” Alice shouts excitedly.
“Bye Daddy,” his oldest, Molly, says one final time, pressing a kiss to his cheek before she takes her younger sister by the hand and leads her up the porch steps and they disappear into the house.
“Said the magic words huh?” Dave chuckles, standing up to his feet and dusting off his jeans.
“Sketti and meatballs” Carol shrugs, a fond smile on her lips. “You look good,” she says after a moment. “Better than the last time I saw you.”
“Yeah, well…” Dave trails off, not wanting to get into why he came to her all but desperate a couple of months ago to let him take their children for an extended summer vacation. “Thanks again, I had a really great time with them.”
“Of course,” she nods. “Did you want to stay for dinner? I’m sure Steve made enough to feed an army. God knows I love him but that man can’t measure pasta to save his life,” she jokes of her new husband and Dave lets out a small chuckle but shakes his head.
“I should probably get going, let you guys have your family dinner.”
“Ok well… the usual time then? Two Saturdays from now?” she asks and Dave nods.
“I’ll be here.”
“Okay. And Dave?” she says just as he turns to head back to the driveway.
“Yeah?” he answers, turning back to face her.
“Take care of yourself, okay?”
“Sure,” he smiles, unconvincing even to himself before he heads down the driveway and gets into his car.
He hadn’t been very candid with her about why he suddenly needed to “get away” and wanted to take his kids on an impromptu summer vacation, but she read him like a book anyway. “What’s her name?” is all she’d asked when he’d shown up on her doorstep a couple of months ago looking tired and distracted. “Doesn’t matter” he’d carelessly shrugged back, not meeting her gaze. Carol had pursed her lips and hummed her agreement but otherwise didn’t push. She knew better. Dave wasn’t exactly one for expressing his feelings, even when they’d been married.
The weeks that follow since bringing his kids back to their mother seem to pass by in a blur as he throws himself full force back into his work, even working on the weekends that he’s not with his kids, mostly as a distraction rather than a necessity. He doesn’t want to be reminded of what his Saturday nights used to be, before. And despite his ex-wife’s wishes he knows he’s not taking proper care of himself. He’s working too much, drinking too much (apart from the days when he has his children of course) and certainly not eating enough. He feels pathetic. Like some lovesick puppy and it’s definitely not a feeling he’s used to. Hell, he didn’t even feel like this when he got divorced or when his now ex-wife got remarried. He bought them a damn wedding present and danced with his daughters standing on his feet at the reception hall. Not that he was thrilled to be a divorced Dad or anything, but he couldn’t argue with Carol when she told him he wasn’t giving her enough of himself. He did feel like shit for months after the separation but after a while it faded and he was able to carve out a new life for himself and he was fine. Happy might have been a stretch, but he was existing just fine.
He of course hadn’t expected you and your husband to turn up barely a year later and turn his whole life upside for several months. It had started out as just fun. Blowing off steam, getting his dick wet, he was far from complaining about any of it. He loved how obedient you both were to him immediately, filling a void in him that he hadn’t engaged in nearly as much as he wanted to. Sure he’d had some rough fucks in his day but that was different than what he had with you. Having a partner - partners - that you built a trust with just brought everything to a new, heightened level and that, well, he hadn’t quite experienced before. But along with trust, of course other feelings start to emerge, feelings Dave had long since given up on expecting to have at this point in his life. And having these feelings for a fucking already married couple did not help his situation any. It was a mistake, he realizes in hindsight, spending your birthday with you both. An entire weekend wrapped up with you, spending the night together, waking up together, having meals together, it was… well, for Dave, it was everything. Everything he never even knew he was looking for and of fucking course he had to find it with two people who already had each other.
And now? Now what the fuck was he doing? Drowning his sorrows in the bottom of a bottle of overpriced bourbon at a bar, by himself, on a Friday night. Just like he’s found himself the past countless Friday nights, hoping he’d wake up the next morning and be able to forget about the two people who had apparently taken up permanent residence in the tight cavity of his chest, refusing to be let go.
He was fucking pathetic. And probably needed to get laid, too. That was one thing he could surely do something about easily enough. He’s been coming to this same bar every Friday night for a month now and one cute waitress in particular never seemed to stray very far from his table and he wasn’t that great of a tipper. He’d barely managed a second glance in her direction his past few visits but maybe tonight he should change that. The drinking wasn’t enough of a distraction anymore and this week was his off-week from seeing his kids so he didn’t have that to keep himself occupied either.
Mind made up he signals the waitress over to his table - whatever her name was. She’d told him probably a dozen times but fuck if he could remember it. It didn’t matter, after tonight he doesn’t plan on seeing her again and he’ll make sure she understands that before he actually leaves with her. For now, what’s the harm in a little fun? A decent pair of tits and a tight pussy is all he needs to get his head back on straight he thinks. And judging by the way the waitress basically comes bouncing over to him the moment he waves her over, it isn’t going to be much of a challenge. The only challenge for Dave will be when he closes his eyes as he sinks inside her, hoping, praying that it’s no longer the image of you that’s emblazoned on the backs of his eyelids.
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~ YOU ~
It’s been nearly four months since your birthday. Since you last saw him.
In the time since that first weekend after Dave had disappeared from your lives, you and Marcus had found your rhythm again. Your lives are back to normal and, realistically, maybe even better than they’ve ever been. You were communicating so much more now and your physical relationship (which, you’d never had much of an issue with to begin with) was definitely thriving. Due to the increased communication, the two of you were always not only willing, but eager to talk more while in bed about anything you were particularly craving and put in the effort together for each other. It had really started the night Marcus had taken charge (a week after your birthday) and fully blossomed from there. There was one Sunday morning back a few months ago where the two of you laid in bed together with your laptop in front of you and were online shopping for fun new sex toys you both might enjoy. You filled your cart without judgment or shame and Marcus hastily typed in his credit card information when you were done browsing. The moment you heard the ‘swish’ of the order confirmation being sent, Marcus snapped the laptop closed, tossed it to the far corner of the bed and then all but pounced on you.
Early on when the two of you were still navigating your post-Dave waters Marcus had even asked you if you still wanted someone else in your lives. The role Dave was meant to (and had initially) played, you assume he meant (before it had gone and gotten complicated). You could tell by the way he asked you, his voice unsure and hesitant sounding, that it wasn’t something he wanted. And in all honesty, you didn’t want it anymore either and you were quick to assure him of that. Not only was Marcus indulging and fulfilling anything you desired, but whoever it was, they’d never be Dave anyway. It didn’t have to be said out loud that he was the only extra piece you’d both ever want in your marriage, you both knew it already.
Sunday mornings seemed to be when you’d find yourself thinking of and missing Dave the most, when you’d look around your bedroom in the aftermath of what your Saturday night had been. Saturday nights had become your routinely scheduled evenings where you and Marcus would get extra adventurous in bed, typically breaking in more of your new toys you’d purchased and just letting loose and taking out all your stresses of the week on one another.
One particular Sunday morning you remember lying next to Marcus who had just opened his beautiful sleepy eyes and you brushed his hair back from his forehead and then let out a little giggle followed by a sad sigh when your gaze caught site of the black fuzzy handcuffs that were still looped around one of the spokes in the headboard.
“He would’ve loved to see you like that,” you murmur, eyebrow raised playfully and you actually see Marcus’ ears turn pink and he bashfully hides his face in the pillow for a quick moment and laughs.
“You think so?”
“I know so baby. God you were so hot, at my mercy like that.”
Your blood begins to run hot just thinking about it again now. How he’d submitted to you. He’d laid down on his stomach, arms stretched above his head where you’d cuffed him to the bed and then you sat back on his thighs, massaging his ass with one hand while the other prepared the lube and the plug that the two of you had picked out together on your impromptu online shopping adventure a couple of weeks earlier in the other. It was the first time he’d ever let you do anything like that to him, though you’d discussed it a few times beforehand, and you were both pleasantly surprised how hot you found it.
You’d slowly fed him the plug, all the while gently rubbing his back with your free hand, soothing him and telling him how well he was doing for you. You still can’t erase from memory the way your breath hitched when he replied in a low, quivering voice, “yeah, I’m being a good boy?” God, the way the arousal instantly flooded you it was a miracle you were able to continue what you were doing and not abandon it all together to take care of yourself.
“Fuck, you’re such a good boy,” you assured him, hand leaving his back to smoothing across the globes of his ass instead
Once you’d gotten it all the way inside and ensured he was comfortable you’d began to slowly maneuver it partially out and then back in, over and over again until it got to feeling so good for him that you’d gotten off his legs and let him get up on his knees when he’d begged you to let him fuck you.
You slid underneath his body, never uncuffing him, wriggling up the bed until you were face to face and left the plug seated deep in his ass as you helped guide his leaking tip to your entrance and he pushed inside. His hands were able to grip the spokes in the headboard so he had some leverage while still held captive in his position and he railed into you deep and hard, moaning like you’d never heard him before for the entire time, like he was on an entirely different plane of pleasure he hadn’t yet experienced.
Afterwards when you both lay spent and chests heaving with exhaustion you’d uncuffed him, gently removed the plug and gathered him in your arms, letting him cling to you with his head resting on your chest. You kissed and played with his hair, murmuring into the top of his head what a good boy he was for you and he just held you tighter until you’d both fallen asleep.
You loved your playful, risque and experimental Saturday nights, but you also loved the quieter, more intimate times as well. You loved waking up on a Sunday morning and lazily making love for hours, refusing to leave the comfort of your marital bed for most of the day. You loved weeknights sprawled out on the sofa relaxing after dinner and watching TV when you’d start necking like teenagers until he’d shove your pants down and slip inside of you, fucking you slow and deep until you both came and then he’d carry you up the stairs to bed. You loved nights when you were both too exhausted from your work days to do much of anything but still wanted to be close so you’d make out a little until he got hard and he would push inside your warm heat and then just wrap his arms around you and hold you until you’d both fall asleep with him inside you.
At the end of the day, well and truly, this had been what you both had wanted, originally. Dave was meant to come in, spice up your love life a little bit, teach you both a couple of things and then leave you to your lives with your newfound sexual knowledge. He’d done that, and yet, there was no denying that you still felt like a piece was just missing now.
A Dave York shaped piece.
You didn’t like to bring him up often to each other anymore. All it did was cause sadness for you both. You’d talked a lot early on and had eventually both admitted out loud your feelings you had for Dave but now there was no use bringing up his name anymore. He was gone and you had to accept it. It didn’t mean you couldn’t miss him, because oh, you missed him. All the time. But there was no use dwelling on something you had no control over, you had to move on. And you had, for the most part.
Or so you thought, until one Friday evening when your work colleagues managed to drag you out with them to a bar and there in the flesh, across the room of the dimly lit tavern, sat the one and only Dave fucking York.
You’d nearly spilled your drink on yourself when your head had turned and you saw him in your peripheral. He looked handsome as ever, wearing dark jeans and a white button up shirt with his sleeves rolled up to his forearms, top couple of buttons undone showing a teasing amount of perfect sun-kissed skin. Wherever his “emergency sabbatical” took him, it was apparently somewhere spent mostly outdoors in the sun you presume. His face looked a little thinner as well, his features more sharp and refined and you have to wonder if he’s been hitting the gym a lot more recently.
The only thing, frankly, that didn’t look good on him right now was the tiny blonde currently seated in his lap holding up a tray of shots you assume were meant for another table before Dave had intervened when something pretty caught his eye. You could practically feel your blood boiling at the sight before you, those deft fingers that knew your body all too well pulling and teasing at the belt loops of the tiny denim shorts the waitress was wearing while she threw her head back in laughter at something he’d said, eating up whatever attention he was willing to give her and you can’t say you blamed the girl. When the sly, sexy grin crossed his lips and he buried his face in her hair to undoubtedly whisper something absolutely filthy next to her ear and you saw her bite her lip in response, it felt like a hard slap across the face and everything happening around you instantly turned to white noise as you focused all your attention on the man across the room who, far as you could tell, hadn’t noticed you yet.
Before you do anything you quickly dig into your purse hanging on your chair for your phone and send a text to Marcus letting him know that Dave is here. His reply of ‘holy shit’ comes back near instantly but before you have a chance to type anything further you hear a loud voice bellowing from behind you for service, waiting for their shots apparently, and the tiny blonde regretfully starts to peel herself off of Dave’s lap to attend to her duties. Unfortunately Dave’s eyeline drifts to where the voice comes from, which you happen to be right in the cross hairs of. You see the tiniest flicker of shock etch across his features before his carefully crafted mask slips perfectly back into place and he gives you a small shit-eating grin that you wish you had the courage to slap right off of him. Eyes not leaving yours he simply picks up his beer and pulls another sip from it before he reaches out, grabs the hand of the waitress about to walk away and tugs her back into his lap, wrapping a possessive arm around her. His gaze never leaves you, even as his head tilts down to press his lips to the girl's shoulder.
Asshole.
Tears well in your eyes before you can stop them. He’s being a prick on purpose and you simply hate him in this moment. Dave York was a lot of things, but you’d never known him to be mean. Until now.
Not able to look at him another second you hastily push back from the table, your chair screeching across the hardwood loud enough to stop the idle chit-chat amongst your table of coworkers as they all stop to stare at you, having no clue what’s going on.
“I’ll be right back, just… need some air,” you explain curtly, not offering anything further or waiting for anyone to offer to accompany you.
You vaguely hear one of them calling your name questioningly as you stand up from the table and storm off towards the exit, passing Dave who’s now downing the entire tray of shots like they’re water.
Good, drink yourself half to death, you fucking idiot.
When the cool evening air hits you the moment you step outside it's like a brief reprieve and you take a deep breath, tears freely spilling down your cheeks now that you hastily try wiping away with the back of your hand. There’s a small crowd standing outside the front doors smoking cigarettes and vape pens but the chatter amongst them halts to a dead silence when the door slams shut behind you in your haste to get outside. Not in the mood for any onlookers, you quickly head off in the opposite direction and take the left turn down the alley at the side of the building for some privacy until you can catch your breath and, god willing, get your body to stop trembling. You realize too that you’d left your purse and your phone inside and you can’t possibly go back in there right now, not like this.
“Fuck,” you sigh into the desolate alley, stopping to lean your back against the cool brick and hanging your head, burying your face in your hands. The emotions of it all, of seeing him again, hits you like a ton of bricks and you let out a loud sob, your legs practically buckling from underneath you causing you to slide down the wall and squat down, elbows resting on your knees and face still buried in your hands as the now quieter sobs continue to rack your body.
You’re feeling just about every emotion under the sun right now and they’re all pouring out of you at once. You’re angry, jealous, sad, irritated, but maybe worst of all you’re reminded of just how fucking badly you still miss him. How badly you weren’t over him. And you hate yourself for it.
“Gotta light?”
That voice… of course you recognize it the second you hear it, even with his words slightly slurred and your face practically buried between your knees, and of course he had to follow you out here. The moment your head raises to look at his smug smirk with the cigarette dangling between his perfect lips you scowl, quickly rising to your feet and taking the two short strides over to where he stands in the middle of the alley and you snatch white stick from his mouth and immediately snap it in two, tossing it carelessly to the ground between you.
“Hey!” Dave barks at you, his voice sharp and loud as it echoes off the walls of the tight alleyway.
As if he has any right to be the one pissed off right now.
“Oh you don’t even smoke,” you argue back immediately, not in any type of mood to be taking shit from this man.
“I’m a social smoker,” he shrugs and you doubt even that’s the truth, he just wanted a reason to follow after you.
“You’re an asshole,” you bite back, not missing a beat.
He scoffs. “Somebody’s in a mood. Maybe you need that cigarette more than I do.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
He’s on you before the last syllable even leaves your lips, both his large hands on your shoulders shoving you backwards until your back hits the wall and he’s crowding your space, leaving barely an inch of space between your two bodies that are now breathing heavily with adrenaline. You can smell the alcohol on him and you know he’s had a lot to drink. If you weren’t half buzzed already you could probably get there just by the smell wafting off of him.
“Think you’d rather I fuck you, hmm? That where all this attitude is coming from Baby?”
His hips force yours further into the unforgiving brick behind you as his hands leave your shoulders to grip your waist instead and you can feel the hard outline of his obvious desire pressing against you. You bite your lip to suppress the moan that’s begging to escape your throat but it slips through anyway; barely registering but he hears it. Of course he does. You can see the way the corner of his lip turns upward into a sly grin.
“There’s my girl.”
“I’m not your anything! You fucking left Dave. You left!” You raise your hands up to shove hard at his chest but he’s like an immovable wall.
“I know.”
His voice is suddenly soft, dare you say, remorseful sounding. You hate how your resolve and anger instantly starts to wane the moment he lets his guard down even the slightest bit.
“I know,” he repeats it again, softer, quieter, his forehead coming down to rest against yours where he slightly shakes his head back and forth. One hand lets go of the grip on your waist and he gently rubs the back of his knuckles up and down the top of your arm, just a barely-there touch that’s already causing goosebumps to raise on your flesh.
“What do you want?” you ask, trying to sound stronger than what you know you’re actually capable of right now. “Why did you follow me out here?”
“I want what you want”. His voice is suddenly at your ear and an involuntary shiver runs through your entire body. “Come home with me,” he tries, his voice slurring just slightly and you roll your eyes and attempt to put space between the two of you again. This time he’s not expecting it and you do manage to push him back a few inches and he wobbles on his feet.
“A drunk fuck so you can disappear again the minute it’s over, you think that’s what I want?” You’re practically screaming at him now, but you don’t care, he deserves it.
“C’mon,” he huffs, sounding annoyed as he quickly crowds your space once more, this time he manages to grab your hands and hoist them above your head, pressing them into the wall so you can’t push him off you again. “One last time for old times sake, huh? Let me fuck this attitude right out of you”
“I’m married, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“Hasn’t exactly stopped us before,” he smirks and then lowers his face down so he can nuzzle into you, his nose grazing your ear and his smooth cheek brushing against yours and for a moment you feel yourself melting into his soft touch.
Your voice lacks the conviction you know it should when you rasp out a quiet "Dave, stop”. You won’t go home with him, you know you won’t. You’d never hurt Marcus like that (again), but the smell of his familiar cologne on his shirt collar, the way his warm skin feels pressed against yours and how your body seemingly just fits into the contours of his own you can’t find it in you to immediately try and push him away again either. It’s been so long, you want to just feel him. Just for a moment.
“Kiss me,” he tries, voice suddenly at your ear before he moves just slightly until his lips hover on yours. He doesn’t force it on you, waiting for you to make that final move and close the distance between you. It takes everything in you, but you manage to turn your face away and you hear his desolate sigh in response, hot breath fanning your cheek.
“Take a hint buddy,” a deep voice suddenly interrupts and both your heads snap to the side where you see an enormous man standing at the opening of the alley, an unlit cigarette between his lips. He must be a good six inches shorter than Dave but easily has over 100lbs on him. He’s a very wide, stocky man with a long ponytail and a studded leather vest over top of a faded t-shirt and covered in tattoos, looking like he belongs in some type of biker gang. You immediately recognize him as the man from earlier who tried to summon the waitress from Dave.
He fishes a lighter from his pocket and brings the flame up to light the cigarette and takes a long drag before breathing a large cloud of smoke out.
“She’s not interested,” he repeats when Dave doesn’t loosen his hold on you. “And you’re paying for those six shots by the way, prick.”
“What, you think she’s saving herself for you?” Dave laughs, incredulous. His hands suddenly leave yours, allowing your arms to drop down to your sides and he takes a step back from you, fully turning towards the man who’s now taken a few tentative steps into the alley. Dave reaches a hand into his back pocket fishing out his wallet. He pulls what looks to be a fifty from the bill fold, scrunches it up to a ball and throws it in the direction of the man standing in front of him before closing his wallet and returning it to his pants.
“There, now fuck off.”
“What’s your problem man?” The bystander asks, flicking his cigarette away and taking two long strides forward, the fifty note left crumpled and forgotten on the ground.
“My problem? My problem is fucking assholes who can’t mind their own business. Go fuck off and get your micro dick sucked somewhere else.”
Your brow furrows as you listen to Dave seemingly intentionally picking a fight with this complete stranger. This was not the calm, cool, collected Dave that you’re used to.
You didn’t like whoever this Dave was.
“Wanna try saying that to my face, shithead?” The shorter man challenges, taking another step towards Dave.
“Dave, just leave it,” you try but he waves a flippant hand at you, not even bothering to look in your direction.
“How bout I get you a stepstool and you say it to mine, small fry.”
“Don’t need a stool to lay you out right here on the pavement,” he challenges right back, taking yet another step closer until they’re just inches apart, the shorter man apparently not intimidated whatsoever and likely rather comfortable in a fight, you assume. What he doesn’t know, however, and what you do, is Dave’s extensive military training. Even drunk you have no doubt he could easily kill this man and barely break a sweat, if he wanted to.
“Leave it alone Dave, c’mon, I mean it!” You try again but you might as well be talking to the wall behind you, as neither of the men are paying you any attention any longer. Ironic, since you’re half the reason the fight started in the first place. Men.
“Tell you what,” Dave begins, voice smug. “First one’s free,” he finishes, raising his arms up in the air, defenseless.
Before you even have a chance to plead with them once more the other man swings, clocking Dave right in the gut that has him doubling over for a few brief seconds before he quickly rights himself again, and, to your astonishment, starts laughing.
“That it?” Dave laughs, back to his full height again. “C’mon, again,” he goads.
This time the stranger's fist connects with Dave’s face, causing his head to swing left with the impact he puts behind it. You quickly scramble over to Dave who lets out another chuckle as he wipes the blood from his lip with the back of his hand and turns back to face his foe.
“Pussy,” Dave taunts before spitting blood to the ground at the man's feet. “Why don’t we call the waitress out from inside, she probably hits harder than you do.”
“Dave!”
You watch it happening like it’s in slow motion, how the man grabs Dave’s head with both hands and smashes it into the brick wall and Dave, for whatever reason, doesn’t even fight it. It makes you think of those videos you had to watch in Drivers Ed as a teenager, how the drunk driver in the scenario is typically the one to survive a collision because their response time is so slow their body just lets go and goes with the flow rather than bracing for impact. The part that really tears you up inside though is you don’t even think it’s the alcohol, you think he’s doing it on purpose, wanting to get hurt. You hear the loud smack as his forehead hits the brick and you instantly surge forward, taking the brunt of his weight as he collapses into you and you both slowly slide down to the ground with him in your arms because you can’t hold his weight.
“Get up, you piece of shit!” the stranger yells, furious, and you scream, covering Dave’s body with your own where he lays in your lap as the man winds up to kick Dave while he’s down.
“Enough!” A third man’s voice shouts and relief floods your whole system as you recognize it’s Marcus. In a flash he’s crossing the alley, grabbing the stranger by his shirt and shoving him into the brick and holding him there. Marcus was definitely ‘a lover not a fighter’, but he could certainly hold his own when it came down to it if need be. You’re not scared any longer.
“You alright Honey?” he asks, quickly chancing a glance over to where you’re kneeled on the ground with Dave’s head in your lap, surveying the laceration above his eyebrow.
The man in Marcus’ grasp looks at the two of you confused, then when he notices Marcus’ wedding ring where his fists are cuffed in his shirt, his eyes widen in disbelief.
“Holy shit, is this your wife? I just did you a favour pal,” he scoffs, lightly shoving at Marcus and Marcus backs off just slightly, letting go but staying close in case the man wants to go at Dave again who’s practically unconscious at this point.
“Look it's fine just… go back inside please,” Marcus huffs before he turns back to you and frowns. “Think we can get him up?”
Between the two of you and Dave’s slight cooperation (as much as he can manage with not only how intoxicated he is but how he surely just got few screws knocked loose thanks to that brick wall) you manage to get him up and he looks around a little disoriented, shaking his head while you and Marcus flank either side of him and hold him up.
“Marcus? You’re here,” Dave slurs and then turns his entire body into him and practically collapses into his arms in what you think was meant to be a hug. Marcus manages to hold Dave upright, both his arms holding under Dave’s armpits to keep him on his feet.
“I’m here,” Marcus croaks out. “I’ve got you.”
“The fuck?” the stranger mutters, shaking his head as he watches what must surely be a very strange reaction to a husband finding another man hitting on his wife in a dark alley. “Good luck with… well, all of that pal,” he says with a wave of his hand in the direction of the three of you before he turns on his heel, bends down to pick up the discarded fifty and heads back out of the alley and presumably back toward the bar.
“I’m drunk,” Dave suddenly breaks the silence, pushing back slightly from Marcus and wavering on his feet. His brows furrow in confusion and he wipes at his forehead. When his hand comes into his eyeline and he sees blood smeared on it, his features scrunch up again. “And I think I hit my head?”
“It’s ok, do you think you can help us get you to the car? It’s close,” Marcus tries to explain to Dave who manages a small nod. You get behind Dave and lift one of his arms up and turn him slightly, draping his arm over your shoulders as you move with him to stand at his side, Marcus now holding up the other. Thankfully Marcus had hastily just parked the car in a loading zone directly in front of the bar after you failed to answer any of his texts or calls so the walk was quick and you managed to get Dave shoved into the front passenger seat. You quickly run back inside to grab your purse and phone and say a quick goodnight to your coworkers and then hurry back out to the car. Dave mumbles off his address once Marcus slides into the driver’s seat and Marcus gives a non-commital grunt of acknowledgement before he pulls away from the curb and drives away. Barely two minutes later Dave’s head is tilted all the way back into the headrest and he’s passed out. You lean forward from the backseat to address Marcus.
“We can’t take him home like that. What if he has a concussion or something?”
“I’m not taking him home” Marcus quickly responds, shaking his head.
With a satisfied sigh you lean back into your seat.
What a fucking disaster.
Barely ten minutes later Marcus pulls into your driveway, hitting the button clipped to the sun visor to open the garage. The last thing he needs is for his neighbors to see the two of you dragging a bloodied half unconscious man into your home in the middle of the night.
You only manage to get him as far as the couch on the main floor, an upstairs bedroom too harrowing of a feat to attempt you presume with Dave’s inability to offer much of his own assistance. With a loud grunt you manage to drop him down to a seated position on the sofa and he immediately falls back into the soft cushions.
“Stay with him, I’ll get some water and something for his head,” Marcus says and you nod your head.
He’s only gone a minute or so, taking a little longer because he couldn’t find the Aspirin bottle right away, but when he returns with two extra strength tablets and a full glass of water he stops in his tracks just inside the living room.
Dave is flopped on his side, face resting on your lap facing where Marcus stands while your hands delicately card through his hair.
He’s murmuring quiet little ramblings with his eyes closed, something about “fucked up” and “so sorry” and you just gently hush him, running your fingers through his sweat damp hair.
“We need to clean him up” you tell Marcus when you notice him standing there. There’s blood still smeared across his forehead but thankfully not very much, he hadn’t been actively bleeding for very long. At least you know he doesn’t require any stitches.
Marcus sighs and crosses the room, getting down on his haunches in front of the couch in Dave’s direct eye line.
“Hey Buddy,” he tries softly. “Need you to sit up for me, have some water and take these.”
Dave grunts, noncommittally, but ultimately does try and push himself up. You both help until he’s back into a seated position and Marcus hands him the two white tablets. Dave stares at them for several seconds before tossing them back into his throat and swallowing without water. You tisk at him and shove the water glass into his hand.
“Drink,” you order. He does. He finishes near the entire glass in one go and your eyes widen in surprise.
“There,” he sighs, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. “Can I go now?”
You’re so frustrated you could smack him. One second he’s being a total asshole, the next he’s trying to kiss you, then he’s purposely getting the shit beat out of him, then practically crying in your lap, and now he’s back to being obstinate again.
He was right about one thing. He is fucked up. And you don’t think it’s just the booze.
“I’m sorry, no,” you shake your head, trying to sound less angry than you feel. The last thing you need is to pick another fight with this unpredictable man right now. “Baby, you’re bleeding”
The endearment slips out completely by accident. You don’t even notice you’ve said it but both Dave and Marcus do, their widened gazes turning to you at the exact same moment.
“Dave,” you quickly try to correct, shaking your head.
He lets out a little snort and nods his head, like he’s willing to let you get away with your little slip up.
“You hit your head really hard, you can’t be alone tonight. If you can make it upstairs you can have the guest room, if not, we can make up the couch. In the morning you’re free to go, I promise.”
“Fine,” he relents, shoulders dropping.
“Think you can help us get you upstairs?” you ask and he nods his head. Both you and Marcus throw one of his arms around your shoulders and help him up, taking each of the steps up the staircase slowly. Dave seems to be somewhat coming out of his fog and much more helpful this time, thankfully. You’re pretty sure it’s just the alcohol working against him now, his brain mostly cleared from the fog of the head trauma. Once you reach the top of the stairs you go to turn towards the guest room but Dave plants his feet and attempts to twist his body away from it, toward the direction he knows your and Marcus’ master bedroom is instead. You and Marcus both share a look behind Dave’s back where you’re holding him and after a moment Marcus gives you one solitary nod, acquiescing to Dave's wishes.
Once inside the room you unravel yourself from Dave as Marcus sits down on the edge of the mattress, bringing Dave with him to sit next to him. You head off to the bathroom to wet a washcloth and come back into the room to gently wipe away the blood and dirt at Dave’s forehead.
“What the fuck were you thinking,” you mutter as you clean him up best you can, shaking your head slightly. He doesn’t answer and you don’t expect him to, nor do you really even want him to in his condition. He needs to sleep it off, maybe you’ll get some clarity in the morning.
Once he’s cleaned up Marcus lifts Dave’s arm off of him and puts it into his lap. He isn’t sure what to do next so he leaves Dave there and wanders off to the bathroom to find you where you’re rinsing off the washcloth in the sink.
“What do we do with him?” he asks quietly.
“Well… honestly it’s probably better we’re in the same room anyway, that way if something happens in the middle of the night we’re there,” you reason and Marcus nods.
“Ok…” he sighs, following after you as you exit the bathroom and flick off its light.
You stop just outside the bathroom when you see Dave passed out in the middle of your bed, all his clothes - including his shoes - still on and you sigh.
“I got it,” Marcus says, going to the end of the bed and untying the laces of Dave’s shoes before placing them on the ground. That’s all you undress of him though, he’ll be fine sleeping in the rest of his clothes. Marcus was already in sweats and a t-shirt but you were still in work clothes so go over to your dresser and fish out a pair of pajamas and quickly change. Once you’re ready for bed you turn out the lights and both you and Marcus crawl in on either side of Dave. You can’t help but reach a hand out and brush it through his hair as his light snores fill the quiet, darkened room.
Fuck, you really missed him.
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Taglist (if you want to be added - or removed!, lmk!) @senaar-ika @suzdin @boliv-jenta @prolix-yuy @vabeachazn @seasonalobession @pedroshotwifey @nerdieforpedro @chronically-ghosted @macabremads @survivingandenduring @theywhowriteandknowthings @axshadows @iamasaddie @vickywallace @lincolndjarin @its-nebuleuse @janaispunk @missladym1981 @heareball @staywildflowahchild @guelyury @anotherpedrolover @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @runningmom94 @yorksgirl @harrington-thedad @missyorkswhore @disassociation-daydreams
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mcuamerica · 11 hours
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The Shadowsinger: Three
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Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. mentions of parental abuse, mentions of violence, implied torture, ACOTAR series spoilers. If I forgot anything, please let me know!
Pairings: Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary: Rhys asks you to be an emissary for the Night Court and Azriel volunteers to train you.
Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters or plot lines, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.
My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!
Series Masterlist
Prologue - One - Two
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The next month was spent with you learning about Velaris and the rest of Prythian. Even though you were 20 when you ended up in the northern village, you knew a lot had changed in the 100… and 50… years since then. You couldn’t count on anything you learned from being a spy because so much was different under Amarantha.
You spent days in the Library under the house, reading books about High Lords and Illyrians. You also found some good romance novels you brought up to your room.
This city, one that was full of hopes and dreams and happiness… It hadn’t been touched in hundreds of years. Not even the people in the Court of Nightmares knew about it anymore, thanks to Rhys’s protection.
You got to know Cassian, Mor, and Amren pretty well. Azriel had been off doing his own spying, so you only got to know him from what the Inner Circle told you.
You felt like you were starting to belong here. Like you could find a place in the city. Maybe even in the circle. 
“I have an offer for you.” Rhys said at dinner one day. You took a sip of your wine and rose your eyebrows, telling him to go on. “We are trying to get the Illyrians to train the females. Those who want to be trained, or aren’t being threatened by their partners, of course. And I think you’d be a good emissary to the war bands.” He said, glancing at Cassian as if to say keep your mouth shut.
“Me? I- I don’t know if they would listen to a female… especially if their High Lord is having trouble with it.” You said, glancing over to Cassian. You knew the male would probably support what you chose, but if the High Lord and Lord Commander were struggling… 
“Well, then you’ll have to make them listen. And not to bring your abilities into it… but you are a Shadowsinger. They can’t deny that, and they’ll tolerate you more because of it.” He said. How lovely…
“Like they did for Azriel?” You asked, hearing the stories of the brothers from Mor and Rhys. They barely allowed him to train, being a bastard. The only reason they did was because he was a Shadowsinger, and Rhys’s friend… “I don’t know, Rhys… it’s one thing to visit those camps. But to try and convince them that they have to train females..” you trailed off. “I don’t even know how to fight. I can’t very well take on an Illyrian.”
“You know how to hunt, right?” Cassian asked and you shrugged. You hunted for Sirona and your family when you first arrived at the northern village, but you hadn’t done a lot in the past 50 years. The most you ever did was with your Shadows, and that was more described as sneaking. “Then I’ll teach you to fight. Show the Illyrians that females can fly in their ranks just as good, if not better, than any male.” He said.
“You can think about it-“ Rhys started but you shook your head.
“I’ll do it.” You said firmly. “I’m tired of being useless when it comes to protecting myself and the people I love. I’m not going to let it happen again.” You said, your shadows settling on your shoulders as if they were backing you up. You let your family down before. You let your blood family harm you and the only thing you could do was flee. 
“Okay, then it’s settled. I’ll train you-“
“How about I do it?” You heard Azriel’s voice, turning to him where he leaned against the wall. A few of your shadows bolted to him like the first day you met, this time wrapping around him before coming back to you. You could’ve sworn they brought some of his scent with them. They didn’t say anything, but they seemed to like him more than anyone else you met. 
“Az, when did you get back?” Cassian asked.
As smirked, “Just now.” He said
“You want to train (Y/N)?” Cassian asked, resulting in Azriel nodding.
“I can teach you how to fight with and without your shadows. And when I’ve gotta go out on missions, Cass can train you on the former.” He said and you looked at Rhys.
“Whatever you want.” Rhys said and smiled. “It’s your choice.”
You glanced between the two. You didn’t know Azriel as well as you did Cassian… but you knew he was a Shadowsinger like you. And you know he could help you hone your abilities. You also knew that he was just as much a deadly warrior as the other two males sitting beside you.
“Okay, it’s a good idea.” I said and gave him a small smile. You could’ve sworn you saw his face flush, but only for a moment before he was back to showing his unreadable mask. “Maybe you can teach me how to spy… and this time actually keep secrets when I want to.” You joked. You knew how to spy. Knew how to get information out of people. When Rhys didn’t have time to interrogate spies under the mountain, she had you do it. You still felt blood on your hands from all the lesser faeries and High Fae you harmed on her behalf. 
Az only gave you a small nod before joining the rest of you at the table. “I do have one request,” you said to all of them. “I don’t go to Valorworth until I’m done training.” You said. Before any of them could ask, you continued. “I can’t see my family… My blood family… yet. What they did to me.. I was weak and a coward. I couldn’t stand up for myself so the only thing I did was run. So the next time I do see them, I want to be able to show them I’m not weak. And I won’t run from them.”
There was something of understanding on all of their faces as you looked around the table. “If you want to kill them, we’ll gladly allow it.” Cassian said with a small smirk on his face. “Hell, I’ll even do it.” Rhys said and you smiled, letting out a small laugh.
“I don’t need to go that far… yet.” You said and leaned back in the chair, happy to be able to help the Court.
“You’ll get a salary as well,” Rhys said. “You’re welcome to stay here at the House. Or the townhouse. But you can also find an apartment.” He said and you smiled.
“I’ll think about it. Right now, it’s better to stay close to where I can train.” You settled. “If staying here is okay with all of you, that is.” You said.
“Are you kidding? It’ll be so much better having you here and not just the boys.” Mor said and you laughed gently, finally feeling like you could really fit in here.
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The next day you went up to the training ring, seeing Azriel already warming up. You stood quietly by the stairs, watching as his shadows moved with him as he did movements you’d seen thousands of times in Valorworth.
His shadows didn’t warn him of your presence. A couple of them snuck out from behind his legs and went over to you, circling around your hair. Your own shadows moved to join him in the center of the ring. You still barely understood the concept of Shadowsinging, even after all these years. But maybe now, with him as your teacher, you could understand it more. And learn to understand yourself.
You finally cleared your throat as you stepped forward. As much as you wanted to, you knew you couldn’t stand and watch him all day. “You certainly know what you’re doing.” You commented as you walked closer to him.
Rhys had gotten Illyrian training leathers for you, tailored to your wings and your sizes. So when you walked up to Azriel, he had to pause just to take you in. You didn’t wear dresses much, but you also didn’t wear anything as tight fitting as this. Not that he’s seen you within the past month.
You shifted under his gaze, looking up to the sky. After breakfast and before you came here, you decided to take a flight. You knew it would be getting colder, and the frigid fall air only proved you right. This would be one of the last nice days before it started to snow. And flying would be a hassle.
“I am teaching you for a reason.” He finally said and you nodded. “Come here, let’s get started.” He motioned you over to where he stood.
You walked over and set your hands to your side. You were glad he decided to train you here and not in Windhaven. You didn’t know if you could handle being seen by the males, critiqued. Cassian told you that wasn’t the only reason he wanted to train you here. Apparently, Azriel hated the Illyrians. You completely understood, too, from what you’d learn about Azriel. The things that happened to him while at the war camps. Especially before Rhysand’s mother had come along to take him in. Still, you didn’t want to start training as an Illyrian when you didn’t know anything. 
You weren’t sure how or why Azriel still adapted to the training, but it was probably so ingrained into him (and useful) that he couldn’t let it go. And so you had your trainer.
“I’m assuming you never trained at the camp?” He asked and you simply shook your head, scoffing at the idea. Your father would have killed you if he saw you anywhere near the training rings. “Do you know the exercises at all? Anything?” He asked and you shook your head.
“I was 20 when I left, and I was never allowed near the ring. I’ve only ever saw my brothers train once, and I remember the beating I got for it more than anything else.” You said. “All I know is that my father had a killer left hook that would leave my face bruised for a week. Even with my healing.” You said and saw something like anger flash through Azriel’s eyes before returning to his soft stare.
“Then let’s teach you an even worse one, and maybe he’ll learn never to hit a female again.” He said and you gave him a small smirk.
“Let’s.” You agreed and started the warm up with him.
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Series Masterlist
Join the taglist here
A/N: Well we see the reader finally interact with Azriel! Not much but just a little taste of it... I hope y'all like slow burns cause this one is very much that...
Tagging:
@cherry-cin @cleverzonkwombatsludge @nickisshadowsinger139
@atomolvnar @complete-randomness-2 @lilah-asteria @tele86
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storiesbyjes2g · 3 days
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3.106 Eyes on the prize
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I hated sitting there, listening to my wife cry, knowing I couldn't do anything for her. She was broken and I couldn't fix her. The weight of it all threatened to break me as well. In desperate attempts to remain strong for Sophia, I grabbed the dogs and went for the longest walk. Usually I wouldn't attempt a long walk with Kooper, but I needed it. I appreciated how steady the weather in Oasis Springs weather was. Whenever I needed to escape, I could always venture out into the dusty oven. The gentle swirls of wind and pitter patter of paws provided a soothing backdrop for my racing thoughts. How were we going to get through this? We weren't without options, but our dreams took a big hit. Our emotions suffocated us, and one day we would breathe again, but at the moment, it hurt.
The house was refreshingly quiet when we returned home, but I knew better than to think everything was magically alright. I unleashed the dogs and tiptoed to the bedroom to check on Sophia, but she was gone. It alarmed me at first, but it was a good sign. I found her outside, sitting at the table, staring at the air. I joined her but didn't know what to say or if I should say anything, but we definitely had much to discuss. Letting the silence linger for a moment felt appropriate. When comfortable, I drummed up the courage to ease us back to reality.
"So...what are you thinking about? I mean...what do you want to do?"
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She glanced up at the sky as if seeking an answer from the clouds. But an answer didn't come, and her eyes came back to me.
"I don't want to give up but..."
"Yeah...I know."
"And we have to pay for the treatments individually. If they don't work and I keep getting them..."
"Good thing we have the money tree, huh?"
I winked at her, trying to add a little levity to the situation.
"That's true," she said. "IVF is even more expensive."
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"Don't think about the money right now. We can figure that out later if we need to."
"What about your sister?"
"What about her?"
"Do you think she'll..."
"Alessia? No way."
"Why not? You haven't even asked her yet."
"Have you met her? She loves her body too much. She won't do it."
She sank into her chair, defeated by a non-existent foe. I felt it too, but one of us had to stay afloat and keep hope alive.
"We can think about that if it comes to it," I said. "Right now...maybe let's try the treatments for a few days. If they don't work, then we'll..."
I left my sentence dangling in the air, hoping she'd finish it. We were in this situation together, but I didn't feel right making decisions about her body, even though I was only trying to keep us focused on our dreams.
"Then we'll do in vitro," she said, finally.
"Okay then."
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sysig · 4 months
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Recently had a silly Handplates dream where Papyrus was trying to snoop around Gaster and Alphys’ lab, but didn’t know who Alphys was and so was trying to pass it off as his own lab lol (Patreon)
#Doodles#Dream log#UT#Handplates#Papyrus#Gaster#Sans#Alphys#And also he was Big Brother Papyrus to a babybones Sans lol#I doodled them as close to the dream as possible so if it's silly or doesn't make sense take it up with my subconscious lol#I remember Gaster had a reputation for being very charming and charismatic which ?? Sure okay lol#He was also quite smiley - personally I read that as him putting on a face to the public but even that seems out of character for him lol#Everyone else was pretty much as usual - Alphys small and nervous and Papyrus loud and bombastic#I don't remember what exactly he was looking for - doubly weird 'cause I hadn't reread him and Sans exploring yet! :0#Just of them moving into their house - though I did read a bunch just before sleeping so safe to say I can attribute that lol#This was the only really clear part of the dream - the rest was just scrolling scrolling scrolling pages and pages of comic panels#Can't imagine why lol#Also intercut with some of the poses I ended up doodling before - surprise! They were dream doodles lol#Also in case it's not clear - Alphys was Very Much Present while Papyrus was trying to pass himself off as the name on the door lol#Oh yeah I'm pretty sure he was also speaking in WingDings thus why Alphys didn't immediately call him out lol#The room was quite cute actually - not at all the sterile grey of the True Lab#Warm and wooden with high windows nearly covered in clutter and paperwork with a desk in the middle lit by yellow light#Cozy#Barely evil-looking at all
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nefertittythegreat · 4 months
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Rating GoT and HotD dresses based on how well I think they'd fit into Ascendance of a Bookworm
Ok first
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4/10
Not my favorite Dany look, but I also don't hate it. It's pretty she looks stunning, but for AoaB, the shillouette is wrong. I love the high neck and the cutout! It's a fashion trend that I hope Rozemyne eventually introduces to Yogurtland. A great look that's a little too modern for the world of AoaB.
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9/10
MOTHER😍😍😍
When it comes to fashion in GoT, you can not outdo the doer, and She(yes, with a capital S) is Cersei Lannister. The color, the cut the metal waist belt with the lions on it with the matching necklace 😭 I'm gagged! She's amazing! One point off because while I feel like on it's own the dress would work well in AoaB, but something about it is just off. i dont think it would completely work. Maybe it's the down hair 🤔
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2/10
FERDINAND IS DEAD AND HE MOST DEFINITELY THINKS SHES A HARLOT💀
First, let me preface by saying I LOVE this dress. It's one of the best dresses in GoT period, but It would NEVER work in AoaB. To them, she's practically naked. Sheer cloth? No sleeves? Neckline to the navel? Oh no honey its straight to the white tower with you! The metal additions are nice, and I can see someone crafting those out of feystones. It's also long enough...so 2 points🤷🏾‍♀️
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8/10
Would fit in the world but not as a dress as a woman's riding outfit, which is what i believe it's supposed to be in GoT as well. In a different color, it's giving future Aub Alexandria ready to defend her duchy. She is a fierce leader, and looking at this outfit, you would never question that.
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7/10
I'm not gonna lie... This is my favorite Game of Thrones look. I think the moment we saw Natalie in this, we all fell in love Margaery. However, for AoaB, it could work with some VERY minor tweaks. The neckline is, of course, too low, and it's backless, but it's very tasteful. I think this is a style Rozemyne could introduce in the future, especially given how hot Alexandria is. She already introduced sleeveless dress and in GoT the reason for the margaery's "risqué" dress is because Highgarden(where she's from) is very hot especially in comparison to King's Landing which is said to have moderate to hot weather.
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10/10
Our first House of the Dragon look and it's 🥰 🥰 I can literally see Elvira wearing this. It's giving everything it should. The silhouette is perfect, the metal additions are stylish, and the headband is too die for! It's giving everything it needs to for an AoaB dress, and I love it!
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5/10
Is this list mostly Dany dresses? YES.
BUT I CAN SEE THE VISION!! Other than being backless, I think Rozemyne has already laid the foundation for this style of dress. I think a slight alter to the silhouette and some very off the shoulder sleeves and boom! we have an Aoab appropriate dress. But the belt, the metal work at the neckline, I think it would fit in very well eventually.
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9/10
Just close up the neckline, and you've got a perfect AoaB dress. This one was a favorite of HotD fans, and it's easy to see why. It's a beautiful dress. I could see a noble lady wearing this right now.
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8/10
This is another future Aub Alexandria dress. Again, I think for Yurgenschmidt it's too much skin, but again, I think Rozemyne will eventually introduce fashion like this. The cape incorporated into the outfit to make sleeves is 😍😍😍. This is how she's gonna show up to the archduke conference stunting on the hoes 👏 👏👏 I feel like high necklines are just in Rozemyne's future🤷🏾‍♀️
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10/10
The sleeves😍😍😍 The waistline😍😍😍 The paneling 😍😍😍 She's carrying Geduldh's burden and she is stunning! For once the hair is also very AoaB which is more common in HotD than in GoT as they try(and kinda fail) to create a unique fashion identity for HotD. I'm a big hair snood fan and I'm living for this one. The color of the dress is also fantastic. If you wore this is Yurgenschmidt and no one would even guess that you're from another world.
Omg I had so many more to talk about, but what are you guys AoaB fashion inspirations? Any movies or TV shows? Are we all still in love with that Susan Pevenasie dress from the end second Chronicles of Narnia movie? Please tell me! I love seeing everyone's thoughts in this fandom🥰
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in-tua-deep · 2 months
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had some very plot-y dreams last night!
I was an alien who was disguised as a human. I think I had come to earth as some kind of invading force years and years ago - my lifespan was pretty long actually, so I was only about the equivalent of my early 20s still but I'd been on earth long enough that I looked more middle-aged.
Which was appropriate, because the reason I had bailed/was in hiding is because I had fallen in love with my beautiful wife. She had died, so I was raising our half-alien son by myself and was probably the definition of Overprotective Parent
I never saw what I looked like, but there was a point in the dream where my son was in his alien form. It was actually very beautiful - he looked like he was made of colorful gemstones or glass rather than flesh and blood
But the whole dream's plot hinged on me finding what was apparently some kind of like, alien rehabilitation program where they took someone and made them human and made them experience life as a human as some kind of penance/rehab?
And there was a dude who I recognized as like. a Big Bad species, that I was CONVINCED had a) no ability to feel remorse, b) would indiscriminately kill everyone, and c) was very very dangerous and also in the same town as my son
so I started like, hanging around?? To try and catch this dude being Evil and also making sure everyone was staying The Fuck Away from my kid, right? except this dude just kind of. didn't do anything evil. stone cold poker face and no showing emotions, but no like, killing or anything
at some point into this dream, we find out about a bomb that is under the chair of one of the group, which consists of me, This Guy, and some squishy humans. My goal is to make sure that if the bomb goes off, it goes off with the other alien bc his species is very invulnerable to things like that
long story short, I ended up with the bomb and driving away and got. really really hurt. and the evil alien? he ran over, covered my wounded body with his own, and someone transferred half of my wounds to him and in doing so he saved my life
so... not as evil (or as emotionless) as I thought, clearly
The rest is fuzzy, but I know I let him see that I had a son at one point, though I didn't directly introduce them.
Honestly the whole dream kind of felt like it had a vague enemies to friends to lovers plot going on as we both explored more of his background and history and emotions, and as we revealed the fact that I had once been kind of a bad guy honestly before falling in love with my wife.
something something, second chances
then i had an entirely different dream where I was a princess who accidentally defeated a dragon and bound him to me in human form lol
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shshshshshowrunner · 10 months
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[DM]
@electionfraudking
What if we did unrestrained summer fun part two but with more improv and also different set up and also metaphorical sip of cocaine cola. You. You know the. The ⬇️
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fxogno1 · 3 months
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imagine waking up to 238 messages haha that would suck probably lol lmao lolol
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gifti3 · 8 months
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Luci was in my dream with either satan or mammon and we all were in a giant suv parked in my old homes garage
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leafatlaw · 1 month
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see my main problem with the Barbie (2023) movie is that it’s a little bit too, lacking, in imagination. Barbie to me has always been about outlandish drama and high concept storylines made up by kids with diy-ed Barbie’s and secondhand dreamhouses. My childhood was filled with exclusively “weird barbies” with badly cut hair and dollar store outfits. What I’m trying to say is that at its roots, Barbie is weird. If like how stereotypical Barbie changed by the power of those playing with her, then every Barbie in barblieland should be a whole lot weirder. There should be a shit ton of princess Barbies, dozens of fairy Barbie’s and a lot of Barbie’s with soap opera like dramas. Because that’s how people play with barbie, that’s who barbie is. And quite frankly there should be alot more Barbie’s who are mothers and wives, because that is primarily how I played with Barbie.
And don’t get me wrong, I know why none of this was included in the movie. Because Mattel and maybe even the writers don’t want to include the idea that Barbie is not always this amazing feminist ideal. And it isn’t. Barbie may have been the first girl toy that was not a baby but Barbie isn’t the reason we have these ideas of feminism. It’s because of how people played with Barbie. And I saw none of those people reflected in that film.
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