#I do not say I think her name is unique and sounds lovely to brag

[my-chaos-radio]

Release: April 1, 2021

Lyrics:

Car rides to Malibu

Strawberry ice cream

One spoon for two

And trading jackets

Laughing 'bout how small it looks on you

(Ha-ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha-ha)

Watching reruns of Glee

Being annoying

Singing in harmony

I bet she's bragging

To all her friends, saying you're so unique, hmm

So when you gonna tell her

That we did that, too?

She thinks it's special

But it's all reused

That was our place, I found it first

I made the jokes you tell to her when she's with you

Do you get déjà vu when she's with you?

Do you get déjà vu? (Ah), hmm

Do you get déjà vu, huh?

Do you call her

Almost say my name?

'Cause let's be honest

We kinda do sound the same

Another actress

I hate to think that I was just your type

I'll bet that she knows Billy Joel

'Cause you played her "Uptown Girl"

You're singing it together

Now I bet you even tell her

How you love her

In between the chorus and the verse (ooh) (I love you)

So when you gonna tell her

That we did that, too?

She thinks it's special

But it's all reused

That was the show we talked about

Played you the song she's singing now when she's with you

Do you get déjà vu when she's with you?

Do you get déjà vu? Oh

Do you get déjà vu?

Songwriter:

Strawberry ice cream in Malibu

Don't act like we didn't do that shit, too

You're trading jackets like we used to do

(Yeah, everything is all reused)

Play her piano, but she doesn't know (oh, oh)

That I was the one who taught you Billy Joel (oh)

A different girl now, but there's nothing new

(I know you get déjà vu)

Annie Clark / Daniel Leonard Nigro / Jack Michael Antonoff / Olivia Rodrigo / Taylor Alison Swift

SongFacts:

👉📖

Homepage:

Olivia Rodrigo

[niniukegirll]

Car rides to Malibu

Strawberry ice cream

One spoon for two

And trading jackets

Laughing 'bout how small it looks on you

(Ha-ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha-ha)

Watching reruns of Glee

Being annoying

Singing in harmony

I bet she's bragging

To all her friends, saying you're so unique, hmm

So when you gonna tell her

That we did that, too?

She thinks it's special

But it's all reused

That was our place, I found it first

I made the jokes you tell to her when she's with you

Do you get déjà vu when she's with you?

Do you get déjà vu? (Ah), hmm

Do you get déjà vu, huh?

Do you call her

Almost say my name?

'Cause let's be honest

We kinda do sound the same

Another actress

I hate to think that I was just your type

I'll bet that she knows Billy Joel

'Cause you played her "Uptown Girl"

You're singing it together

Now I bet you even tell her

How you love her

In between the chorus and the verse (ooh) (I love you)

So when you gonna tell her

That we did that, too?

She thinks it's special

But it's all reused

That was the show we talked about

Played you the song she's singing now when she's with you

Do you get déjà vu when she's with you?

Do you get déjà vu? Oh

Do you get déjà vu?

Strawberry ice cream in Malibu

Don't act like we didn't do that shit, too

You're trading jackets like we used to do

(Yeah, everything is all reused)

Play her piano, but she doesn't know (oh, oh)

That I was the one who taught you Billy Joel (oh)

A different girl now, but there's nothing new

(I know you get déjà vu)

[violet-shadows]

Missing Piece (Part Five)

Series Index | Masterlist

Summary: Cassian and Nesta are happily mated and in love, so why do they feel like something is missing? When a newcomer arrives in the City of Starlight, they learn that their bond is not yet complete. 

Pairing: Cassian x Nesta x Reader (She/Her) (Poly Relationship)

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: n/a

⊱ —————— ❈  —————— ⊰

I spent the rest of dinner in a daze, my mind racing in the wake of the bond. Nesta and Cassian seemed to understand that I was still processing and didn’t push for anything beyond small talk. I learned that Nesta was a few years younger than I, and Cassian was significantly older than us both. Cassian had been raised in the Illyrian camps, while Nesta was formerly a human, still relatively new to being Fae. Between the three of us, our past and upbringings couldn’t be more different, and yet, there seemed to already be an understanding between us, a thread of kinship unique to twined souls. 

I was perfectly content to listen to them speak the entire night, but soon our conversation was cut short by the party inside drawing to a close. The moon was high in the sky now, and Ezran, Elise, and I were to report to the healing halls in the morning. No one mentioned the bond snapping, although I was sure most of them knew, or at the very least suspected. As we said our goodbyes, I was surprised by Feyre pulling me into a tight hug, a warm grin on her face. Rhysand shook my hand, wearing a similar expression. “We’ll see you soon, Y/N,” he said kindly, his eyes flitting to Cassian and Nesta, who stood at my side. 

“Thank you for having us, High Lord, High Lady.” 

“Just Rhys and Feyre,” the High Lady replied, “especially to you.” 

I felt my cheeks heat and nodded gratefully, bidding them goodnight. As Cassian and Nesta walked with me outside, I stifled a yawn, my energy crashing as the adrenaline wore off. “I can fly you home, if you’d like,” Cassian offered. 

“That’s a bit of a long flight,” I replied, nerves getting the better of me. “Won’t I be too heavy?” Cassian and Nesta exchanged an amused glance, stifling laughter. 

“You are the furthest thing from heavy, sweetheart,” he said, chuckling. The pet name and accompanying warm smile filled my stomach with butterflies. “I could carry you to the continent without breaking a sweat.” Nesta rolled her eyes, her lips curling at the edges.

“Don’t brag,” she chastised. 

I hesitated, wondering if he was just saying that to make me feel better or if flying with a passenger was really as easy as he made it sound. He seemed to notice my hesitation and paused, face falling slightly. “Unless you’re uncomfortable, of course. We can walk you back instead.” I recalled the thrill of the short flight up the House, the way being held in his arms felt so inexplicably right and shook my head. 

“Let’s fly,” I said with a smile. 

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

Cassian resisted the urge to inhale her scent as he cradled her to his chest. She hadn’t outright rejected them, but still seemed wary about the bond, so he and Nesta would have to take care to avoid overwhelming her. The flight home was a perfect opportunity to sate his instincts and satisfy the need to be close to her. As they took flight, she let out a yelp of surprise followed swiftly by giddy laughter that made his heart sing. He grinned, watching her closely as she peered down at the city below, her eyes filled with wonder. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” He said, circling in the air so she could see beyond the city, where the Sidra flowed into the sea. 

“It’s incredible,” she whispered, her eyes meeting his. “Do you fly every day?”

“I’d go mad if I didn’t,” he said with a laugh.

“What must that be like,” she murmured wistfully, tightening her grip on his neck as they began to descend toward the inn.

“Just say the word, I’ll take you any time,” he offered. She seemed surprised, the corners of her mouth lifting in a shy smile. 

“Really?” 

“I can hardly think of a better way to spend my time,” he replied, landing gently on the street outside the inn. “Next time we’ll bring Nesta too.”

“You can carry both of us?” She asked.

“Of course!” He he said, feigning insult, “it just takes a bit of coordination on your part if you’re up for the challenge.” 

Something like excitement sparkled in her eyes as she replied, “Sounds like a plan.”

“We’ll see you soon, Y/N.”

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

“We can’t leave now!” Nesta growled, pacing Rhysand’s office. “The bond snapped last night.” Cassian stood in the corner, his arms crossed and jaw set. He wasn’t going to argue with his High Lord, but he certainly wasn’t happy about being sent away. 

“You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. This is the first camp lord who’s shown interest in training more Valkyrie. I need you both there,” he said firmly. He was sympathetic to their plight, but the opportunity couldn’t be squandered. “It should only take a few days.” 

Nesta huffed but didn’t offer further argument. As much as she was loath to leave Velaris so soon after finding hers and Cassian’s mate, a rejected invitation would put the already tenuous allyship in jeopardy. “When do we leave?” she asked.

“Now,” Rhys replied. Cassian let out a frustrated groan and Nesta’s jaw clenched. The High Lord tried to hide his amusement at the smitten pair. “The sooner you leave, the sooner you can get back. If it makes you feel better, she’ll probably be busy with work the entire time anyway.”

“It doesn’t, actually,” Nesta grumbled, storming out of the room. Rhysand supposed it was as close to acquiescence as his sister-in-law got. 

Cassian looked after her, then shot Rhysand a look of warning, “This better be quick.”

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

While we hadn’t made specific plans to see one another again, I figured it was at least implied that Cassian and Nesta would stop by in the days that followed. Three days passed with neither hide nor hair of the two, and I was beginning to grow uneasy. They had seemed rather keen on getting to know me when the bond snapped, but now I wondered if they were having second thoughts. As much as it pained me, I couldn’t exactly blame them. By all appearances, they seemed to share a deep connection with one another, and it would be reasonable to fear a third might disrupt that equilibrium. As the days passed their absence began to feel like a quiet rejection that made my heart ache. Despite not really knowing them, there was something euphoric about being in their presence and losing it already stung. 

The day before I was set to move into my apartment, I got up the courage to go to the House of Wind. I reasoned that, if they were still at all interested, giving them an idea of where to find me was worth a shot. I made my way to the base of the palace after work, hoping to at least leave a message for the pair. When I arrived at the stairs, however, I was greeted by two Sentries who appeared none too pleased. 

“Move along,” one of them ordered as soon as I approached. 

“I’m actually here to see Cassian and Nesta, or at least leave a message—,” I was cut off mid-sentence by the other soldier.

“General Cassian and Lady Nesta are not taking audiences at the time,” he sneered. 

“Can I at least leave a message?” I snapped, returning his glare. “I know them.”

“Sure you do,” the other barked a laugh, rolling his eyes. “If you knew them, you’d know this isn’t how they receive messages. Now move along before there’s trouble.” 

I wanted to argue, but the sentries seemed serious about their threat, and getting arrested trying to see my mates would be unimaginably embarrassing. Part of me wondered if Nesta and Cassian were truly avoiding me and they’d been instructed to turn me away. The thought hurt and I tried not to dwell on it as I made my way back to the inn. I spent the evening packing my belongings and trying to keep myself from spiraling. It was foolish to make assumptions, and perhaps even a bit pathetic to miss them so much after only a few days. That was the magic of the mating bond, though, a connection between souls that had them calling to each other. I wondered if the feeling ever waned for those that were rejected and the thought made my stomach roll. 

The next day was no different, with no word or sign of my mates. I went through the workday on autopilot, my thoughts vacillating between Nesta and Cassian and my task for the evening. I would have to take two trips to carry my belongings across town, then figure out how to get the bed I purchased the day prior up the stairs. It would undoubtedly be a long night. I debated asking Ezran and Elise for help, but they were busy settling into their own dwellings.

The workday was unusually busy, with several patients coming to us after a minor accident at the harbor. The worst was a young dockworker who caught quite a blow to the head when a hoist broke and toppled several heavy crates. By the end of the day, my hands and feet were aching and I wanted nothing more than to lie down, but I had already told the innkeep I would be out of my room that evening. 

The first trip across town wasn’t so bad, but by the third, I was dead on my feet. I could have cried when I remembered the bed, which had been delivered to the bottom of the apartment steps and still needed to be hauled to the second floor. 

I got the mattress up without much issue, but the frame was heavier than expected, which was where things went sideways. As I hauled the second piece up the steps, sweating and straining under the weight, my grip slipped, sending the headboard careening backward down the stairs. My arm shot out to catch it and I realized my mistake a moment too late to stop myself from tumbling backward down the steps. I hit the bottom of the stairwell with a shriek, my face connecting with the wall in a dizzying blow. Moments later, the headboard reached the landing and toppled onto me, knocking the air from my lungs. 

I groaned, my head spinning, and angrily kicked the now destroyed piece of furniture off of me. My face smarted and after a few steadying breaths, I noticed a shooting pain in my wrist. I wiggled my fingers and yelped as a lightning bolt of pain shot up my arm. A pulse of healing magic told me it was broken and I cradled it to my chest as I stood, tears beginning to fall of their own volition. Using my good arm, I pushed the splintered headboard to the side, leaving it among a heap of other discarded items left by my neighbors. As I climbed the steps once more, my body aching, I struggled to hold back sobs. 

Once inside my apartment, which was now furnished with only a mattress and a small table left by the previous tenant, I allowed myself to burst into tears. It wasn’t enough that I was alone in a strange city with little money to my name, my mates were apparently ignoring me, and now I was stuck with a broken wrist and the only furniture I owned was destroyed. I curled up on the bed, drawing deep, heaving breaths as I tried to calm myself. If I let myself fixate on the situation and continue taking stock of all I had lost, I feared I would never get up again.

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

“I feel like something is wrong,” Nesta whispered, curling into Cassian’s side. It was late and sleep had been eluding them both for nearly an hour. As the minutes ticked by, a strange, foreboding feeling began to grow within her. Cassian mirrored her concern, though they both reasoned it was the distance from their mate so soon after the bond snapped that had them uneasy. 

“Maybe it’s a nightmare again,” Cassian murmured, eyes closed. He was far more tired than Nesta, always struggling to sleep when he was at the camps, ill memories and paranoia keeping him restless. Nesta nodded, though the thought of her mate alone and afraid was none too comforting. There was little they could do, though, so far away in the mountains, and it wasn’t as though they could burst into her room in the dead of night just for peace of mind. Cassian’s breath slowed and Nesta tried to match his, closing her eyes. In the morning, they would fly back to Velaris and go straight to the inn. They planned to invite Y/N to breakfast, hoping to make good on their promise of getting to know her. The thought of home calmed Nesta’s spirits and she finally fell asleep.

Cassian woke early in the morning, feeling slightly refreshed after a few hours of sleep. Nesta was still slumbering and he debated allowing her to sleep in but thought better of it. She would be cross if they were late returning to Velaris, and he was eager to get back as well. 

“Wake up, sweetheart,” he whispered, shaking her shoulders. She groaned, throwing an arm over her eyes to block the light in a move that was unreasonably endearing. Cassian chuckled, running a hand down her arm. “We’re going home,” he reminded her. That comment seemed to pull her from her fog and she sprung up, immediately moving to dress while Cassian looked on with one eyebrow cocked. 

“What?” she muttered, pulling on some leather breaches. 

“I feel like I should be offended,” he teased. “You weren’t nearly this eager to see me when we were first mated.” 

“Luckily for both of us, Y/N is not nearly as infuriating,” she replied with a smirk. “And don’t pretend you’re not just as eager. The sun has barely risen and you’re ready to go.” He couldn’t argue with that, the urge to reunite with their mate was overpowering. 

Soon, they were taking flight over the Night Court, both breathing a sigh of relief as Velaris came into view. They didn’t bother to stop at the House on the way home, landing on the street outside the inn in the midmorning hours. The innkeeper greeted them with a weary expression, “How can I help you, General, Lady?”

“We’re here to visit Y/N. She’s one of the new healers who has been staying here,” Cassian said. 

“I’m afraid she checked out last night,” he replied. 

“Did she leave a forwarding address?” Nesta asked urgently, placing her hands on the innkeeper’s desk, who shrunk under her steely gaze.

“She didn’t, but if you see her, I do have one piece of mail for her,” he pulled out a familiar red envelope. “I forgot to give it to her before she left.” Nesta blanched, recognizing it as the note they had sent before leaving for the camps. If she hadn’t received it, she had no idea why they hadn’t contacted her since the dinner party. Cassian let out a low rumble, snatching the envelope from the innkeep’s hand before storming off, his siphons blaring. Nesta followed close behind, clenching and unclenching her fists as she contemplated their next move. 

“Fuck,” Cassian cursed, marching through the streets in no particular direction. “She could be anywhere.” It wasn’t as though she’d be impossible to find, but searching the city could take the entire day. If they were going to find her before sundown, they would need to call in an expert. 

Nesta sighed, rubbing her temples, “Let’s go find Azriel.” 

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

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[writteninkat]

Songs from Olivia Rodrigo's SOUR album you associate to MHA guys after you two break up

w/ Bakugou, Kaminari, Kirishima, Tenya, Todoroki, Dabi, Hawks

warning: angst

navigation

Bakugou Katsuki

"All I did was speak normally, somehow I still struck a nerve"

"Never doubted myself fo much"

"I'm the love of your life until I make you mad"

"And I'd leave you but the roller coaster is all I ever had"

throughout most of the relationship, you were unable to understand/predict Katsuki's mood, leaving you on your toes and guarded most of the time

KAMINARI DENKI

"You'd talk to her, maybe did even worse"

"Ain't it funny how you ran to her the second we called it quits?"

"You'd talk to her when we were together"

"Guess you didn't cheat, but you're still a traitor"

"Remember I brought her up and you told me I was paranoid."

Denki is friendly with everyone, he has a pretty big social circle but what irks you is how he doesn't see to have any boundaries at all

you noticed that he treats you the same way he treats all his other close girl friends

TODOROKI SHOTO

"I bet she's bragging to all her friends, saying you're so unique"

"So when you gon' tell her, that we did that too? She thinks it's special but it's all reused."

"Do you call her, almost say my name? Cause let's be honest we kinda do sound the same."

"I hate to think that I was just your type"

"Do you get deja vu?"

Shoto is a simple man; which means the girls he's ever been with, including you, have not only one but multiple things in common

he doesn't seem to be interested in changing his ways, and you once hoped to be the one to change him. nah, relax bob the builder. seven other girls who went before you thought that too

KIRISHIMA EIJIRO

"And you're probably with that one girl who always made me doubt."

"I know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one."

"I just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone."

"All my friends are tired of hearing how much I miss you"

"Cause I still fuckin' love you"

"You said forever now I drive alone past your street"

this man. he. fucking. broke. you.

every time you looked at him while you two were together, you imagined a future with him, you imagined nothing in the world can tear you two apart

you would watch the whole world burn if it meant getting him to smile

when he told you he fell out of love, you felt everything about you disappear. you turned into a hollow shell of a human for weeks, to months, to years.

when i tell you this man affected you so much to the point that he ruined trust and love for you...

TENYA IIDA

"If I looked like the other prom queens I know that you loved before"

"Tried so hard to be everything that you liked, just for you to say you're not the compliment type"

"I read all of your self-help books so you'd think that I was smart"

"You found someone more exciting. the next second, you were gone"

"You left me there crying wondering what I did wrong"

"All I ever wanted was to be enough for you"

"I'd say you broke my heart but you broke much more than that. Now I don't want your sympathy I just want myself back."

"Don't you think I loved you too much to be used and discarded?"

relating this song after a break up with Iida says a lot about you during the relationship; self-destructive, maybe a little too obsessed? perhaps this feeling was new to you and you didn't want to lost this feeling.

the break up leaves you wondering if Iida really did love you for who you are or for who you tried to be and tried to show him during the relationship

DABI

"Know that I love you so bad, I let you treat me like that, I was your willing accomplice, honey."

"Those things I did, just so I could call you mine."

"I hope I was your favorite crime."

"I defended you to all my friends."

"every time a siren sounds, I wonder if you're around. 'Cause you know that I'd do it all again."

"It's bittersweet to think about the damage that we do, cause you were going down but I was doing it with you."

"I say that I hate you with a smile on my face."

Dabi used your status as a pro hero to have access to information. And you should have known better, you should have planned three, seven, ten steps ahead. But somewhere in between, you fell in love

You thought him opening up about his past meant he trusted you. You thought when he saved you from a burning building meant he cared for you. But it was all a ruse; an attempt to have you think he was genuine.

TAKAMI KEIGO

"You've moved on, found someone new."

"She's so sweet, she's so pretty. Does she mean you forgot about me?"

"I hope you're happy but not like how you were with me."

"An eternal love bullshit you know you'll never mean. Remember when I believed you meant it when you said it first to me?"

"Say you love her baby, just not like you loved me."

what you and Hawks had was something real, something genuine, something that's one out of a million

everyone truly thought you two were a match made in heaven. everyone thought you were his first love. nope. being a pro hero and saving civilians is his first love

having a woman in his arms, a woman to come home to, a woman to share moments with and make memories with was just a help to pass time

safe to say you became one toxic motherfucker after he left you for his bunny best friend

[mxlti-fand0m-imaginess]

deja vu // Tate Langdon

request: none

prompts: none

warnings: so not really a warning but i kinda changed tate’s personality for this so please don’t yell at me for not being on character, angst, language, sad, heartbreak, illusions to rape, mentions of murder, not proofread

inspired by deja vu by olivia rodrigo

car rides to malibu strawberry ice cream, one spoon for two and trading jackets laughing bout how small it looks in you

You sighed as you stood behind Tate, hidden from his sight, watching as he placed his jacket on the girl next to him. Violet, was it? Her name didn’t matter, it’s not like you were going to talk to her. Not yet anyways. Not until things get bad.

watching reruns of glee being annoying, singing in harmony i bet she’s bragging to all her friends, saying you’re so unique

You watched as Violet and Tate were listening to some of Tate’s old Nirvana records, singing along together softly. Just the sight of it made you sick. You used to do that with him. You were the one who introduced him to Kurt Cobain in the first place. But he’s probably not even thinking about you anymore.

so when you you gonna tell her we did that too? she thinks it’s special, but it’s all reused that was our place, i found it first i made the jokes you tell to her when she’s with you

do you get deja vu when she’s with you? do you get deja vu? do you get deja vu?

With every passing day, you heart shattered even more. Watching the two of them do your things together. He told her your jokes. He even took her up to the hidden spot on the roof. You showed that to Tate. You brought him there. It was your spot. But not anymore apparently. Now it’s theirs. Everything that you had with Tate was taken from you and given to this girl. The only comfort was knowing that he would ruin her, just like he did with you.

do you call her, almost say my name? cause let’s be honest, we kinda do sound the same another actress i hate to think that i was just your type

She was basically just a clone of you. A broken girl, open to fall prey to his traps. Whether he meant to or not, Tate destroyed everything he touched. But in spite of it all, you still loved him. So you counted the days until he would ruin Violet. Because then he would come crawling back to you.

and i bet that she knows billy joel cause you played her uptown girl you’re singing it together now i bet you even tell her how you love her in between the chorus and the verse

“I know this song’s kinda old, but it’s still really good,” Tate said as he smiled at her.

He played the record, and you frowned as Uptown Girl by Billy Joel started playing. That was your song. You showed it to him, and he was doing the same for her. He’s doing the same thing he did to you, luring her into his trap. They smiled at each other, taking in the lyrics of the song.

“I love you Violet,” Tate mumbled as he pulled her closer.

“I love you too.”

so when you you gonna tell her we did that too? she thinks it’s special, but it’s all reused that was the show we talked about played you the songs she’s singing now when she’s with you

do you get deja vu when she’s with you? do you get deja vu? do you get deja vu?

Your favorite songs filled your ears as you watched Tate show them to her. He’s saying he discovered them. He’s lying, you showed them to him when you were together. Back when you were happy.

strawberry ice cream in malibu don’t act like we didn’t do that shit too you’re trading jackets like we used to do yeah everything is all reused

Violet pulled Tate’s jacket tighter around herself, savoring the warmth as they sat outside together. Tate placed a cigarette in her mouth, and she immediately savored the relief it brought. Her life was falling apart. Tate was the only good thing she had. At least that’s what she thought.

play her piano, but she doesn’t know that i was the one who taught you billy joel a different girl now, but there’s nothing new

“What did you do?!” she screamed at Tate, tears streaming down her face.

“I didn’t mean to! I didn’t mean to do any of it! Violet, I’m sorry please!”

“No, I can’t accept that,” she replied, starting to cry too.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying go away.”

“What? No don’t do this!”

“Go away Tate!”

“You’re all I want! You’re all I have!”

“Go away!” she screamed once more, sobbing once Tate disappeared.

There it was. The inevitable ruin Tate brought. But despite everything he did to you, you couldn’t help but still love him. You couldn’t help but want him back.

i know you get deja vu i know you get deja vu i know you get deja vu

“Y/n, please I’m sorry. Just please, take me back.”

You turned around and saw Tate standing behind you, tears streaming down his face. You knew it was wrong. That you shouldn’t forgive him. Not after what he did. But you still loved him. Even though he killed you, you still loved him.

You walked over to him and pulled him into your arms, hugging him tightly for fear that he might slip away again. But he won’t. Not this time. He was yours again. And this time, nothing would get in between you two.

Tate Langdon Taglist: @ahsxual @darlingkitt @1800-fuckbitchesgetmoney

[nikethestatue]

La Dolce Vita

Summary: Elain Archeron and Azriel - in love, in lust, in Italy

Modern AU *slight TOG crossover. If you read my stuff, you know it’s LONG

Warnings: bad language and THIS IS NSFW (not kidding, this is a story, not just sex, but there is a LOT of explicit material here. You can still read the story, but if you are sensitive or underage, skip the naughty bits)

Comments are always appreciated/wanted/needed. Anon or not, just do it! Obviously, reblogs are appreciated. 

Part I (Flowers)

 La Vie En Rose

De l'homme auquel j'appartiens (Of the man to whom I belong)  Quand il me prend dans ses bras Il me parle l'a tout bas (He speaks to me softly) Je vois la vie en rose (And I see life in pink) Il me dit des mots d'amour (He speaks words of love to me) Des mots de tous les jours (They are every day words) Et ça m' fait quelque chose (And they do something to me) Il est entré dans mon coeur (He has entered into my heart) Une part de bonheur (A bit of happiness) Dont je connais la cause (That I know the cause of) C'est lui pour moi (It's only him for me) Moi pour lui dans la vie (And me for him, for life)

Now

Riding in a Ferrari, being enveloped in its supple, buttery leather, gulping in the cypress and cedar-scented air of Tuscany was everything that Elain Archeron had ever wanted. She never knew that this is what she wanted, because riding in very fast, very expensive, sleek Italian cars wasn’t on her ‘fantasy radar’, but now that she was in one, she suddenly came to the realization that this was perhaps one of the best experiences of her life.

The whole thing, so far, has been the best experience of her life.

Well…maybe not the best-best.

Her happiness was deeply intertwined with and caused by the man in the driver seat of the said Ferrari—Azriel. Azriel Archeron, as he loved calling himself. Even if this wasn’t his last name, he preferred using it over his family name, for a variety of personal reasons. There was nothing better, more sublime, more beautiful and more loving than Azriel. The perfect male specimen, if she could say so herself. No one would argue with her assessment either.

Elain

 They were introduced by her sister’s then-boyfriend Cass, who was giving her a lift one afternoon, and then suggested that they stop by Azriel’s car atelier, because he needed to pick something up.

Elain’s heard of the mysterious Azriel from her sisters, both of whom had claimed that he was the most handsome man that either one of them had ever seen. Elain chuckled at the exuberant praise, doubting its truthfulness. There was no such thing as the ‘most handsome’ man. Beauty was in the eyes of the beholder.

She wasn’t sure what a car atelier was, and when Cassian pulled up to a modern-looking building, she said that she’d stay in the car and wait.

“Come on, petal, don’t be shy,” Cassian urged her, holding the car door open for her in a way that indicated that she’d have to get out and follow him.

They entered the foyer, a vast space with racing stripes painted on the polished cement floor, and a sea of model cars dropping from the ceiling. Behind a wall of glass, Elain spied a row of gorgeous cars, none of which were familiar to her. Some unique European models, fit for James Bond’s consumption. There were also neat antique cars, probably from the 50s. She immediately had visions of Grace Kelly and Cary Grant riding in one of these along the Riviera coast.

“What’s this place?” she inquired, looking around at the mid-century modern building that resembled a spaceship.

“This is Az’s baby,” Cass explained vaguely. “Conceived, conceptualized, restored, outfitted—all by the brilliant mind of one Azriel Bagarat.”

“Are you bragging?”

A deep, sensual voice, that could only be called ‘midnight’ sounded behind them, and Cassian’s handsome, tanned face broke in a mischievous smile. “Only about you, brother!”

When Elain turned around, her breath was knocked out from her lungs.

She didn’t know that it was possible, to be actually stunned by someone’s beauty, but there she stood, gaping, feeling the world slow and move in a different manner for a few moments.

Standing at a towering 6”4 or so, the man was at least as tall as Cassian, and Cassian was the tallest man Elain’d ever met. She was just as muscular, but not as bulky. Clad in all black, from expensive, well-tailored Diesel jeans, to a soft t-shirt that stretched over his sharply cut torso, emphasizing the thick muscles of his arms and shoulders, and the narrow waist, true to her sisters’ word, this Azriel was simply exquisite.

Cassian draped his heavy arm around her shoulders and nudged her forward, just a bit, and said,

“Petal, say hello! This is my brother, Azriel. Az, this is my soon-to-be-sister-in-law, the one and only Elain Archeron.”

At the words ‘sister-in-law’ Elain whipped her head to Cassian, who grinned maniacally at her, nodding and answering her silent question.

“When? What are you talking about?” she exclaimed, Azriel momentarily forgotten. “What do you mean? You’ve only been seeing each other for like three months?!?”

“Baby girl, I don’t need three years to decide…Nes is Nes and she is the one for me.”

He shrugged with his usual ease, acting like they were discussing the weather or a good burger that he just ate.

“If Nes hears even a whiff of this, I will know it’s you, petal, and well, I am not sure what I will do,” he decided upon reflection, but then pleaded, “please, don’t tell her. This one,” he nodded towards Azriel, who was standing still, green eyes peeled to Elain, “I can trust. He hardly ever talks,”

“That’s because you talk for all of us,” noted Azriel with a smirk.

Elain chuckled, and turned back to face him.

He extended his hand to her, with an odd, tentative movement, and when she looked down, she saw old, mottled scars that covered his palm and part of his wrist and forearm. A vintage Patek Phillipe on his wrist.

“Beautiful,” she murmured, and he gave her a surprised look, unsure of what she was referring to.

“It’s always a pleasure to meet another Archeron sister,” he said with a soft smile, which made Elain lose her ability to speak for a good few moments, because she was finally able to take in that face that defied description. The sharp cheekbones and the mesmerizing amber and emerald eyes, almond-shaped and slanted hinted at a varied heritage, and unfairly, the man also possessed a perfect nose, and a full, sensuous mouth. He was the very definition of tall, dark, and handsome, with skin of burnished bronze, which was so in contrast to his bright eyes and raven-black hair, cut in a fashionable undercut. The physique, as she already noted, quickly skimming over the body, matched the face.

“Yes, me too,” she said stupidly.

Graceful, like a courtier, he offered her his arm and said,

“Would you like me to show you around?”

She didn’t want to be impolite, though she suddenly felt sweaty and nervous, and completely out of her league. But she threaded her hand through his arm and lightly squeezed the firm, alarmingly thick bicep.

“Thank you,” she mumbled.

She wasn’t sure what she was thinking him for, so she added, “yes, I’d love to see it.”

“Why haven’t we met?” he inquired, those green eyes watching her with such intensity that she felt almost undressed, bared under the gaze. It wasn’t unpleasant, because it wasn’t lascivious, and he didn’t strike her as someone who’d be disrespectful to women.

“I’ve been busy for the past half a year,” she explained.

“Doing what?”

They walked down the wide passage, past all the cars, which Azriel pointed out with a wave of his scarred hand, and dropped names like Pagani, BMW I8, Bugatti Divo, Bugatti Centodieci, Lamborghini Veneto, Koenigsegg CCXR Trevita and so forth. Elain might not have known a ton about cars, but she was not so unaware not to know that a Bugatti and a Lambo were expensive cars.

Cassian fell behind, gawking at the display.

“I was opening my own business,” Elain said, her head thrown back, looking at an entire toy racetrack mounted to the ceiling, with cars zooming by, and somehow, not falling on patrons’ heads.

“What sort of business?”

“Flowers,” she said absently, once they reached another space—a two story-restaurant, bar, and a patio outside as well.

“Flowers?”

“Oh, a flower shop,” she explained at last. Then muttered, awed, “this is really incredible!”

“A car enthusiast?” he smirked.

She didn’t know how it happened, but somehow, her hand migrated from the crook of his arm to his hand, and now, they walked along the walls lined with Ferrari posters, memorabilia and expensive everything. Walking and holding hands.

“I wouldn’t call myself one,” she admitted, “but I find cars aesthetically pleasing…Never got to ride in anything fancier than a Mercedes or a Lexus,”

“Well, we should remedy that at once!” he decided easily and then said, “pick you up on Friday at seven?”

That sobered her up a bit and she turned to face him. They stopped at the long, chrome-lined bar, and he said, “An espresso?”

“Um,”

But before she could respond, he was behind the counter, playing with a very fancy coffee machine that required a PhD to operate with all the levers and hooks and buttons, and in a few minutes, he poured her a tiny cup of coffee, thick with natural foam, and heady with its enticing scent.

He chugged his own in one go and she followed him, gulping her espresso in two sips. It was better than anything she’d ever drunk in her life.

“Like a date?” she finally asked, truly confused by the offer.

“Would you like it to be a date?” he leaned on the bar, biceps flexing, his arms covered in tattoo sleeves that reached all the way to his fingers. They were quite beautiful, the tattoos, the placement and the design, and Elain recognized the style, since Cassian and Rhysand wore the same kinds of tattoos, if not so extensive.

“Did you draw these?” she asked bluntly, touching her finger to a thick snaking black line, which was shaded with cobalt.

He looked down, at her hand and his arm and nodded, following her finger with his eyes.

“I did. For the three of us. When we made Navy Seals,”

“You are a Seal, too?” she exclaimed.

He smiled and nodded, “Well, we all grew up in foster care—not all, Cass and I,”

“I heard,”

“Until Rhys’s parents adopted us. But we weren’t the…best of boys,” he chortled, “so to get our heads straight, we were sent to the Navy after school. We figured we’d only stay a bit, but we stayed for a while.”

“So, you are retired?”

“We are vets,”

“How old are you?” she blurted. Then blushed and said, “I am sorry. I am usually not so impolite,”

He laughed, “I figured. But that’s alright. I’ll tell you on Friday, though. If you don’t mind?”

“I mean, I don’t mind,” she murmured, her eyes dropping to her espresso cup, “but,”

“How about this—I take you on a drive in one of these fancy cars—and then you can brag to everyone that you’d driven in a,”

He paused and rubbed his chin,

“Any preference?”

“For what?”

“What car you’d like to go in?”

“I don’t know,”

“Throw something at me,” he urged, eyes glinting with feral delight.

Elain, blush deepening, finally said, “Do you have a Ferrari? I’ve always wanted to drive in a Ferrari.”

“Ahhh, a Ferrarista at heart!” he nodded with approval, folding his arms on his chest, “stick with the classic and the best. And yes, gorgeous, I do have a Ferrari or two.”

Gorgeous.

Azriel

The girl who’d arrived with Cassian, was not Nesta, but there was something vaguely familiar about her. The girl who’d arrived with Cassian was the most gorgeous creature that Azriel had ever seen. Gorgeous and completely unaware.

Women like her, if they were smart and cunning and ambitious, used their beauty for all things good and terrible. But this exquisite creature that Cassian was so blatantly hugging and teasing wasn’t one of those women. Azriel was all too familiar with the types—the maneaters, who hounded him like sharks. He was wealthy, and good-looking, and a decent person, if not exactly a saint. He hobnobbed with celebrities who came to order his cars, which he designed and outfitted based on their specifications and desires.

He was finnicky when it came to taste though. No matter how much rappers asked him to clad their Maybach in gold or some vapid Gucci print, no matter how many heiresses pouted and asked for a bubblegum or Barbie-pink Ferraris, he did not betray the essence and soul of the vehicle. Modify, define, sharpen, stylize—he did it all with precision and skill which was unparalleled. But Azriel Bagarat was known for rejecting even the juiciest of offers, if the request did not coincide with his aesthetic or the history of the car.

He was at his shop—that’s what he called it, though atelier sounded infinitely better and more expensive—that afternoon, knowing that Cassian was going to drop by and select a car for his grandiose proposal to Nesta. There was some concern that Cassian would not fit his 6”5 form into an Aston Martin or a Bentley, so they needed to make sure that the car was appropriate for the occasion and the occupant. Cass insisted on a British vehicle, feeling that Nesta would like something classic and timeless. So be it.

What Azriel did not expect to see that Tuesday afternoon was a girl--because he hesitated to call her a ‘woman’, since she looked so lovely and perfect and innocent--who took his breath away.

His breath had been taken away only once before, by Rhys’s cousin, who strolled like a ray of sunshine into their broken lives.

However, Morrigan chose Cassian. And then Cassian promptly impregnated her, causing a great discontent and strife between everyone. Morrigan, or rather Morgana d’Adda, though she anglicized her name, even if Morrigan d’Adda sounded funny, was just about disavowed by her family for tumbling, and being so stupid and blind as to get knocked up by a hulking nobody mulatto, as her father Keir called Cassian. Rather, sneered, at Cassian.

Even if Azriel didn’t impregnate anybody, he somehow got looped into the family bullshit and once he and Cassian turned 18, they were both shipped off to the navy. To the dismay of the entire Darling clan, Rhys followed them, tossing away his guaranteed admittance to Brown. An Ivy League school for rich stupid heirs. Only Rhys wasn’t stupid. Neither was Cassian a hulking nobody mulatto. And Azriel wasn’t just the ‘fucking weird kid, who might be a serial killer’. They served and they passed the insane Navy Seal training, and they proved themselves.

Nowadays, Cassian now ran security for the Darling conglomerate, while Rhys took over the reins when his father was killed in a car accident. Azriel found his own path, though the association with the Darling name certainly helped his exposure and in building relationships and meeting all the right people. And meeting all the women. The three brothers had gone through their share of wild times, but in the past 3 years, things began to calm down for them.

It began with Rhys meeting Feyre Archeron at an art gallery, where she was exhibiting some of her pieces. Azriel had tugged along with Rhys to see the exhibit, because Rhys was looking for some art for his new office, and he trusted Azriel’s taste and knowledge, and wanted a second pair of eyes.

Rhys followed Feyre like a dog throughout the evening—Azriel was there to witness the pathetic display—and then they ended up at a bar, doing shots and feeding Feyre virgin Cosmos, since she wasn’t even 21 yet. They went to some dance club, Azriel playing the third-wheel and ‘chaperone’, though by the end of the night, Rhys and Feyre disappeared together and weren’t heard from for the next three days.

… “What if he killed her?” proposed Cassian for 100th time, pacing back and forth, running his fingers through his long black hair. “Or what if she killed him?”

“I thought that I was the serial killer among the three of us,” drawled Azriel, sprawled on a sofa, watching a game. He wasn’t as concerned, having seen Rhys dripping with intense lust at the sight of the brown-haired teen. It was unusual, since at that time Rhys was almost 25, and Feyre only 19, and the three of them typically tried to avoid teenagers like the plague. But Rhysand Darling seemed genuinely enthralled.

“No, you are the guy with the sex dungeon,” corrected Cassian.

Azriel rolled his eyes, “serial killer with a sex dungeon, huh? Sounds like an interesting story. Alas, much as I’d like to, I don’t have a sex dungeon.”

“Aren’t you building one? In that new garage of yours?” Cassian shrugged.

“Only cars. No sex toys,” sighed Azriel, looking like that might have been an omission on his part.

“Gents, I think I am in love!” the door burst open and a wild-eyed Rhys appeared, his normally pristine hair in disarray, his cheeks flushed, wearing only a white t-shirt and jeans.

“Where the fuck were you for three days?” growled Cassian, showing considerable relief at the sight of his brother.

“Falling in love,” crooned Rhys, falling into a chair, a stupid, dazed look on his face.

“You look like Audrey Hepburn in ‘Sabrina’,” noted Azriel.

“I feel like Audrey Hepburn!” exclaimed Rhys. “She is perfect. Feyre is perfect.”

What the fuck? Mouthed Cassian in confusion.

“Feyre Darling,” whispered Rhys with delight, eyes closed, tasting the sound of the name on his tongue. “Feyre Archeron Darling. Or Feyre Darling Archeron?”

“You alright there, buddy?” Cassian frowned. “A little early to be talking last names?”

“She’ll be my wife,” announced Rhysand with his usually unwavering confidence.

And that was that.

Now, the ‘society wedding of the year’ was coming up in three months. Rhysand Darling and Feyre Archeron, the toast of the town, the power couple, the young and beautiful billionaires.

 Now, Azriel stood in front of the most stunning female he’d ever seen and for once, he felt like Rhys. His brain turned into a soupy mess, and he found himself tongue-tied and concentrating was suddenly difficult. He wanted to be a gracious host and a confident, formidable man, who had a reputation to uphold—though he wasn’t sure if Elain was aware of his reputation—but inside, he was a mess. All his insecurities, doubts and self-hate rose to the surface at once, and he hesitated to extend his hand in greeting to her. His mangled, horrible, revolting hand, which was sullied beyond its extensive scars. A hand that killed, and touched way too women, some of whom he probably shouldn’t have been touching at all.

“Beautiful,” she murmured softly, that gorgeous blush spreading over her rose-petal cheeks.

He was so taken aback by the comment, he was nearly flabbergasted when she didn’t pull away, didn’t frown or grimace in disgust, didn’t display any of the usual signs of revulsion that most women did when they saw his hands. Perhaps it was the Patek Phillipe, he tried to convince himself, but deep down he knew—she called his scars ‘beautiful’.

And then she took his arm, her hand strong, surprisingly calloused, if light, and small.

And from that moment on, Azriel became obsessed with that touch.

His body heated and as he led her to the bar, and showed her around his pride and joy, watching for the subtle reactions, for the gleam of wonder and appreciation in her eyes, he couldn’t release…wouldn’t release her hand from his. She asked questions, took in all the memorabilia and gawked at the cars, and then the guest area, and finally, when he sat her down at the bar and made her a coffee, he stepped closer. Trying not to scare her, or seem obnoxious, he couldn’t help invading her personal space, and stood next to her, pretending to take interest in his drink, while hoping that her arm would brush against his own. Skin to skin.

She didn’t pull away. Didn’t shy away.

He didn’t expect himself to ask her on what amounted to a date, because he wasn’t even sure how dates worked. His usual ammo consisted of a brief introduction, an even quicker seduction and then a hook up. That’s how he liked it. He preferred no-strings-attached approach to his involvement with women, and it’s been working rather well for him. He never had to sleep with anyone in the same bed, he never had to make anyone breakfast, there was no room for idle chitchat, and usually no second or third dates. It was so easy.

This fucking girl, with her caramel-brown eyes, her golden-amber curls, her soft lips and that damn blush on her cheeks—she was driving him veritably insane with her unique mix of immaculate beauty and a friendly, almost naïve, strangely innocent disposition. And he wanted to go on a date with her. Without an ulterior motive, because at it stood right now, he didn’t care to even get her in bed. That would come later. He was absolutely determined to have this happen later. But…later.

Cassian

“Alrighty, I think I am going with the Bentley,” Cassian sidled to the bar, and interrupted.

If Azriel was annoyed, he didn’t show it.

Cassian spied them at last, making his way through the cavernous entrails of the garage, with all its gleaming cars, the beautiful patrons who were discussing options with no-less beautiful sales people,  and even on-premises tattoo shop, which specialized in Azriel’s sketches and catered to those who didn’t have money to actually outfit their Bugatti to their heart’s desire, but could at least claim that they got a Bagarat tattoo inked on their skin.

Elain and Azriel were standing side by side, somehow melding together nicely, her pretty dress and high-heeled sandals and piles of loose hair in drastic contrast with Azriel’s all-black ensemble, his massive height and the span of his shoulders. But she did not balk from him. Cassian also noticed that she didn’t react to the scars, which Azriel was very self-conscious about, and seemed genuinely interested in the garage.

It was inevitable that the two would eventually meet, especially with the wedding coming up and all the wedding related brouhaha. However, Cassian wanted to have the dibs on gloating down the line, and reminding the two of them, forever, about how it was he who introduced them. Yes, Azriel fucked a lot of models and rich girls, for whom he, strangely, was a riff on a ‘bit of rough’, while being hardly ‘rough’ at all. Azriel was elegant and possessed excellent taste in everything, and he probably had the best manners out of the lot of them. But the tattoos, the cars, the aura of brooding mystery about him, and his generally quiet ways were like honey to the throngs of women who lusted after him.  

About Azriel, Cassian had no doubts.

Cassian knew Azriel probably better than anyone alive, and even that wasn’t saying much, but he was very aware of Azriel’s ‘secret type’ of woman. Basically, it was Elain. Everything about Elain Azriel would like—of that Cassian was certain. Elain was the elusive ‘ideal woman’ of whom Azriel dreamt, but never actually pursued. Slightly unconventional, soft, kind, generous—lovely, would be a good word—Elain was everything that Azriel never had with any other women.

Cassian could already see the hunger and flicker of completely besotted adoration in Azriel’s normally cold eyes.

He was less certain about Elain, having never seen her with a boyfriend. When he had asked Nesta about Elain’s situation, Nesta shrugged and said that Elain was beautiful, but naïve, dreamy and rarely dated.

“A Bentley it is then,” Azriel turned around, though his elbow still touched Elain’s arm. “You’ll fit, big boy?”

Elain giggled.

“I am not Rowan,” Cassian muttered. “I am human sized.”

“Only just.”

“You are the same height,” Cassian reminded him coolly.

“I am a little more human-shaped too.”

Cassian rolled his eyes and said, “Come on, petal. While I love to stand here and listen to his insults, we gotta go.”

Elain’s face dropped into a sad frown only for a second, but she recovered immediately. Cassian noticed it, nevertheless. His petal of a girl didn’t want to leave his brother’s side.

“Bye Azriel,” she said, taking his hand in hers again, of her own volition, and squeezing it lightly. “It was very nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” he said. His fingers wrapped over her palm, and he said, “I’ll walk you two out.”

So, his brooding brother didn’t want to release the newfound petal of a girl.

How interesting.

Once they were in Cassian’s Jeep, Elain looked out the window, a dreamy look on her face.

“Oh-oh,” Cassian chuckled, as he navigated the narrow NYC streets.

“What?”

“I know that look,” he winked.

“What look?” she frowned.

“The ‘oh gods, Azriel is so handsome!’ look. Oh, he is so gorgeous look. Oh, he is so sexy look.”

“He is handsome,” she agreed blandly, knowing that arguing would be silly.

“I hope that you gave him your number,” he said. “Because if you didn’t, I will.”

“It’s none of your business,” she crossed her arms on her chest, and Cass howled loudly.

“You are welcome, by the way,”

“You are ridiculous,” she muttered. “I don’t know how Nesta tolerates you!”

“Oh, Nes tolerates me and then some,” and winked again.

Now

“My love, slow down a bit,” Elain requested, as the road zigzagged among rows of cypresses.

“I thought that you wanted to make it to Florence before traffic hit?” Azriel squeezed her fingers and brought her hand to his lips.

“Seeing that we are already running late, we might as well enjoy the drive,” she shrugged.

A honey-coloured strand of her hair fell out from under the gauzy wrap that she wore around her head a-la Grace Kelley.

“Good.”

“Good what?” she turned her face to him and knocked him out all over again. By the Mother she was superb in every way, and she was his. He couldn’t believe his absurd luck. Things like these didn’t happen to him. Elain was not meant to be his. Yet, here she was, his lovely gentle girl, who loved him with incomprehensible passion and devotion. His.

The hefty, borderline outlandish ring on her finger was proof of that.

He’d worked hard on that ring, designing it himself, wanting to incorporate everything that he loved about her and about the two of them into the design. The result was this stunner that glittered madly in the Italian sun, sitting on her manicured finger, the skin of her arm kissed by a golden tan.

His beautiful girl loved flowers, and she loved him, so her ring, in its platinum setting was a remarkable rose, reflecting Elain’s green thumb and life’s work. He selected the diamond himself, and the amethysts that comprised the petals, even the tiny onyx inserts, to signify him and the black ink of his tattoos. The ring was both extravagant—especially in carats—but intimate as well, a flower that spoke of his eternal love for this woman.

“I am going to take you somewhere, which I think you’d like,” he teased.

“Where?”

“How does lots of flowers sound?”

She smiled. 

Azriel

For gods’ sake, he was nervous. Azriel was not prone to nervousness or panic or discomfort, but this date, or whatever it was, filled him with dread.

He shouldn’t have asked her.

He was stupid and blinded by her beauty, by her deliciously voluptuous body, by the long, slender legs, by her shy, sweet smile. Those blushes. For the love of everything, those fine, adorable, sexy blushes.

She was part of the family network—both of his brothers were now in love with her sisters. It was cliché and unrealistic and unbelievable that she and he would end up in the same boat. Besides, he wasn’t so lucky as to have someone like her accept him. So, he was making a huge fucking mistake. If this was all going to go sour—which inevitably it would, of that he had no doubt—he’d mess up the delicate balance that existed between the Darling, Bagarat and Cavalhe brothers and the Archeron sisters. She’d reject him and then it would be awkward. Awkward for the upcoming wedding, in which he and Elain were supposed to couple up and be together in the wedding party. Rhys said, ‘fuck it’ and asked both him and Cassian to be best men, while Feyre had both of her sisters as maids-on-honour. There was no escaping it. Therefore, it would be awkward for the wedding, and then for Christmas and all the summer BBQs and pool parties and…well, he might just have to find excuses to never attend anything, ever.

But here he was, standing in front of an old-fashioned, cute corner storefront in the Village. Flower displays spilled on the sidewalk, and the windows, along with the marble edifice reminded him of Paris. This was exactly how he’d picture Elain’ store—slightly whimsical, elegant, classic, but modern. Au Nom de la Rose – The Name of the Rose—perfectly appropriate for Elain’s store name.

She wasn’t waiting for him outside, and he circled the block three times before, by some miracle, finding a parking space and leaving the silver Ferrari, and then made his way back to the store, arriving 4 minutes late, which was completely unacceptable. The store was technically closed at this hour, but he knocked and heard Elain’s voice telling him to come in. Some internal pressure inside of him released at the sound of her voice.

He entered and whistled,

“That’s a lot of flowers!”

Yep, definitely a glamourized 50’s Paris vibe.

“Azriel, I am so sorry, I am not ready,” Elain came from behind the counter, looking a bit frazzled.

“It’s alright I will wait,” he assured her, but she shook her head and said,

“No…I just received a huge order. An emergency order for an anniversary party. Azriel, it’s my biggest order ever!”

“That’s excellent!” he found himself feeling genuinely happy for her, if not for her concerned expression. “What’s up?”

“I…I,” she stumbled. “Feyre or Nesta would usually come and help out if I need them, but Feyre is in LA, and Nesta…” she swallowed, “Nesta is indisposed.”

Nes is on her period and is feeling like crap, read Cassian’s text from earlier today. I am going fishing. Care to join? Or are you busy romancing a certain Archeron sister?

Nesta was indisposed indeed, though Azriel didn’t feel like he needed to know the details.

“It’s a 25th Anniversary, and I have to make 25 bouquets and 15 centerpieces. The couple’s original florist fell through and they contacted me, in a panic, and I agreed,” she babbled, tugging on her long braid nervously. “And it’s for tomorrow,”

“Alright then,” he shrugged, “what’s the problem then? I am here.”

She looked up at him, her gaze both hopeful and confused.

“You? What are you going to do? I am sorry, Azriel, I am so sorry, we’d have to postpone,”

“We’d have to postpone our drive, but I am here. Use me.”

“Use you?”

“Use my body,” he chuckled, and she giggled an amused laugh.

“I appreciate the offer,” and when he thought that she’d continue rejecting his offer of help, she did the right thing and was a smart girl, nodding at last, and said, “will you truly help?”

“I am not a flower expert,”

“I wouldn’t have guessed,” she grinned.

He removed his jacket, rolled up his sleeves and said, “Teach me, Archeron. I am an apt pupil.”

He was. Elain showed him model bouquets and thankfully, he wasn’t dumb or clumsy enough to screw them up, once he began copying the originals.

Night fell, and they ordered pizza and he went to get a bottle of wine from the store across the street.

Sitting on the floor of the store, surrounded by piles of flowers, vases, ribbons and twine, they ate pizza, laughing throughout the evening. She stretched her long, bare legs in front of her, crossing them at the ankles, and he couldn’t get enough—the pretty toes, the pale golden skin and the sexy pink nail polish. He didn’t want to seem like a creep, but he snuck more than a few glances at her feet when she wasn’t looking.

It was well past midnight when they were finally done.

He stretched on the floor and tucked his arm behind his head.

She kneeled above him, at his side, and said, “Azriel, thank you. I can’t, honestly, thank you enough. You saved me. Maybe my business too!”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he retorted gently, “but this was fun…and educational.”

“How can I repay you?” she asked.

“Well, well,” he drummed his fingers on the floor, pretending to think. “So many possibilities,”

At that, she flushed, and he licked his lips, loving the sight of that pink on her cheeks.

“Let’s make a bargain,” he proposed at last.

“A bargain?” her brow furrowed.

He nodded.

“For my exceptional assistance during your time of trouble and despair, you will agree to an outing with me, of my choosing. To do whatever I want.”

Elain stared at him, biting her plump lower lip.

“Are we going to do something bad?” she finally asked uncertainly.

He grinned and without thinking, cupped her cheek.

She didn’t recoil.

He drew his thumb over her soft skin and she leaned into his palm just a little bit. Gods it felt good. So good. So good to have her so near, so receptive, so unafraid. But he dropped his hand.

“You think I will take you to knock off a couple of 7-11s?”

“Well, if I am entering this death bargain with you, then who the hell knows?” she shrugged.

He laughed, “Death bargain? A little dramatic, are we?”

She was still sitting there, biting her lip, and all he wanted to do was drag his tongue over it. Kiss her large, brown eyes. Fist his hand around the thick mass of her hair, tilt her head and kiss her until she was breathless.

What the hell was wrong with him?

He never acted like this!

He never thought like this.

He was a rational, controlled, some said, cold man.

Not to say that he wasn’t able to find a woman immediately attractive, or want to fuck her, but this was different. This was unknown.

“Fine,” she shrugged.

“Fine?” he repeated, smiling.

“Don’t make me do anything bad,” she warned.

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” he promised. “I wouldn’t lead you astray. But,” he sat up, draping his forearms over his knees, “where do you live? Let me take you home,”

“I can take an Uber,”

He gave her an incredulous look and she nodded without further arguments.

“Where do you live?” he asked, once they were outside, somehow internally thrilled that perhaps, she’d invite him inside. He wouldn’t expect anything, obviously, but it would be nice see where she lived, what her private space looked like. So far, he couldn’t pinpoint her style with any accuracy, an interesting mixture of vintage and modern, of flowers and thorns.

“Just two blocks down,” she said, as she locked up the shop.

He gave her his arm, and it seemed like she almost expected it, because she immediately thrust her hand into the loop and he smiled softly.

The little white shorts and the flowery top did things to him, and he was glad to walk side by side, so to prevent himself from staring at her long legs and her neat, lush ass. He was already a mess over her legs, over her bending and squatting in front of him for the past four-five hours.

It was dark and quiet on the street, and they walked in a comfortable silence, each thinking of something of their own.

And then,

Elain sprawled face down on the pavement.

She cried out, landing on her knees on the asphalt, just barely having the time to brace herself on her hand, and ripping the skin of her palm.

Azriel was instantly on his knees in front of her.

Tears glistened in her eyes. Possibly from pain, because as she flipped on her butt, they saw that her knees were torn and bleeding, as was her palm, or maybe from shock, as well as embarrassment.

“Shhh,” he cooed gently to her, “are you okay?”

She shook her head. A lonely tear spilled from her eyes.

“Tissues?” he asked quickly, surveying the damage. Bruises were already blossoming on her scuffed kneecaps, all around the wounds.

She wordlessly handed him her bag, allowing him to rummage through it and he found a packet of old tissues, which he gingerly pressed to her bleeding knees.

“My ankle hurts,” she muttered, reaching down to inspect it.

“Let me,” he took her legs and looked over her ankle. She glared questioningly at him, still in some sort of stupor, not understanding what had occurred, and why she was now sitting on the ground, bleeding.

“You broke your heel,” he nodded to her foot and she glanced down, finally realizing that her heel caught in a crack in the pavement. The impact was so strong, it actually fully detached from the sole of the shoe.

“I am sorry,” she mumbled.

“You should be,” he chuckled, “you gave me quite a scare. I thought you were shot; you went down so quickly!”

She pushed at his arm, half laughing, and have crying.

“Stop making me laugh!” she ordered, sniffling and giggling. “Auuu, it hurts...”

He was lightly pressing on her ankle, and then said, “it’s just twisted. You’ll need ice, but it should be okay…”

“Ok, Doctor Azriel,” she even rolled her eyes slightly and he laughed, flicking her nose.

“I am trained on how to treat combat wounds and catastrophic field injuries, I’ll have you know,” he said and then gave her his hand. “On your feet, soldier! Let me see if you can stand.”

Moaning and groaning, she managed to stand up, but putting any weight on her foot caused a yelp to escape her lips.

“Alright, come on now,” he stepped and opened his arms, “jump in.”

“Jump in where?”

“Jump into my arms, of course.”

“What are you planning to do? Swing me around?”

“I could swing you around, but I was planning on carrying you home, and then making you an ice pack and disinfecting all your cuts.”

Without waiting for her to decide, he scooped her off the ground and she gasped, and he wasn’t sure what the little huff meant.

“But it’s like two blocks!” she protested feebly, and unconvincingly, “I am heavy.”

“Ooohhh,” he groaned dramatically, hefting her to his chest, as they started off. “Sooo, so heavy!”

“I am the fattest of my sisters,” she argued, and even in the darkness he saw that she was blushing realizing how silly her comment was.

“Well, considering that Nesta is like 90 lbs. and Feyre 110 lbs., that’s not saying much,” he assured her.

She was soft and warm in his arms, and when, without prompting, she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into him, he felt utterly at peace. Because the pieces of them fit. She fit him.

Blood still dripping, and her arms thrown over his neck, Azriel walked steadily, cradling her to his chest, until they finally reached a pre-War building, and she said, “There is no elevator.”

“Don’t tell me you are on the 6th floor!” he laughed, looking up.

“The third.”

“Guess I will have to haul the fattest of the Archeron sisters to the 3rd floor!” he sighed, and she smacked his arm, protesting,

“You can’t say that!”

He was laughing and she began to laugh as well.

“You said it first,” he reminded her.

 Her apartment was small, but she’d arranged the furniture in such a way that everything seemed more spacious, and orderly, without unnecessary frills. Mostly grays, turquoise, cobalt and creamy-white. For some reason, he thought that there would be much more pink and general fluff. This though, this he liked.

He sat her down on the sofa and went to the bathroom to find bandages and plasters and other items. She called out from her spot, telling him where to find things and he finally emerged and began working on all her wounds.

“Haven’t lost a soldier yet,” he told her with a chuckle. He kneeled in front of her, and his touch was firm, but surprisingly gentle, as he thoroughly washed every scuff and tear, and then disinfected and decided what needed bandages and what didn’t.

Elain remained mostly silent throughout the procedure, watching him from under her lashes.

“You are nice,” she said suddenly.

He looked at her and smirked.

“Not with anyone.”

“Everyone just says how handsome you are,” she lay her head on the back cushion, watching him. He gave her a painkiller, and it was making her drowsy. It was also late. She rarely stayed up this late. “But you are also very nice,” she added.

Elain

She woke up that morning, and was struck by the unfamiliar environment. And pain.

Her knees ached and screamed and hurt, as did her palm.

Light poured through the windows; the curtains still open.

She found herself on her sofa, haphazardly covered by a throw, and with her legs resting on Azriel’s lap.

Fuck.

Fuck.

He was here. With her.

He never left after last night’s debacle.

She was a clumsy cow, as always, but the incident was unusually embarrassing, even for her. She always spilled or dropped stuff on herself, tripped, stumbled, and fell on her ass at inopportune times, but last night…By the Mother!

The man was gosh darn saint. Not only did she screw up their evening plans, made him work and make bouquets with her, which, probably wasn’t the most exciting thing for him to spend the evening on, but she also almost ate the pavement, and then he carried her for half a mile! And cared for her when they came here. And spent, what must have been a horribly uncomfortable night in a half-seated position, with her, no doubt, pushing at him with her feet.

Yep, she was never going to see him again.

Good going, Elain. Fine job you did of this ‘relationship’. Now, for the rest of her life, she’d be forced to see him at family gatherings, probably with some stunning model of a wife, and he’d always remember her as the girl who tore her heel on the pavement.

She wanted to cry.

Not that she ever, even for a second, believed that this would go anywhere. Her and Azriel. That wasn’t possible. Things like these didn’t happen to her. She was strange and solitary and even if others claimed that she was pretty, going so far as to call her ‘beautiful’, she never felt like that. When Nesta got mad at her, she’d call her a ‘petty idiot’ and Elain felt like that more frequently than she cared to admit. And Azriel…he was cut from a different cloth. He was…

She looked at his face, still perfect, but ever so slightly relaxed and softened in sleep, his eyelids heavy and enviably long, thick lashes fanned over his golden-brown cheeks. He was funny, with a quick, dry sense of humour, intelligent and interesting, and when they talked last night, she couldn’t get enough! He told her fascinating stories from his time in the Navy, about his dream, which resulted in the creation of his beloved garage. It took him three years to open the place—conceptualize what he wanted, how to deliver it, the items to showcase. The result was not just the ‘garage’, but also the popular bar, and recently, a restaurant as well.

Scarred fingers touched her hand and he opened his eyes.

“Good morning,” he whispered, squinting at her. “How are you? How’s the pain?”

“Azriel,” she murmured, not even knowing how to thank him, but she attempted, “I want to,”

“Pancakes?” he asked eagerly.

She glanced at him with incomprehension.

“May I make you, or us, pancakes?” he proposed. “I’ve been sort of thinking about this all night. How I’d like to make you pancakes,”

“I want to thank,”

He lifted his finger and shook his head,

“No, no. My Italian mother would tell you that you should never thank anyone for providing medical help,”

“Why?”

“According to my psychotically superstitious Italian side of the family, the remedy or healing won’t take, if you offer thanks. Imagine, I was forbidden from ever saying ‘thank you’ to a doctor,”

She chuckled.

“So, you are Italian?”

“Mom’s side is half Neapolitan and half from Lazio—near Rome.”

He sat up and rolled his neck.

“Can I at least say that I am sorry that you had to be so uncomfortable and sleep on the couch?” she asked.

“It’s alright. Not the best night I’ve ever had, but not the worst one either. The company was nice too,” and he patted her legs.

A tiny flare of hope lit in her belly.

But she didn’t allow herself to have it take root.

Maybe not until he gathered her legs together on his lap and drew his fingers up and down her calf.

“But really, how is the pain?” he asked at last, watching her with his intense, warm eyes. The eyes didn’t warm frequently, it seemed, but when they looked at her—

He was different somehow.

Kind. Approachable.

“It’s fine,” she waved her hand, not wanting to burden him any longer with her dumb injuries.

Those long, scarred fingers glided over her skin, and a small smirk touched his lips, “May I kiss it better?”

She blinked at him.

“I hear that I am very good at making pain go away,” he added proudly, and then, his lips descended on her scuffed and bruised knees. She kissed each one, tenderly, and then took her hand and brought it to his lips, and pressed his mouth to the inside of her palm. Her breath hitched and she stared at him, wide-eyed, as he watched her, unblinking, gaging every minute reaction. He kissed her hand, inside and then out, and then kissed the other, even though it wasn’t injured, and then returned to her knees and kissed them again.

At last, “Better?” he asked.

She only mooed incoherently.

…Azriel, by the stove, flipping pancakes was the sexiest thing Elain had ever seen in her life.

Clad in dark slacks, in his white shirt from last night, with sleeves rolled up and the tattoo sleeves on full display, he stood in her kitchen, barefoot and flipped pancakes like a pro.

“You cook too?” she asked incredulously.

He laughed.

“Too? In addition to what?”

“I don’t know,” she was still perched on the sofa, like an invalid, but after she washed her face and brushed her hair, he ordered her to sit and not make unnecessary moves. “Everything?”

“My repertoire is limited, when it comes to the kitchen, but what I know how to make, I make well. Cassian is a better cook.”

“Cass?” she smiled.

“Nesta is lucky to have him,” Azriel added, somewhat wistfully.

Elain looked at him and nodded. “I think so too.”

“He is a good man. Maybe the best man I’ve ever known. Where my own family failed, he stepped in, though he is a year younger than me. But he taught me…how to be. Accepted me. Unconditionally. Taught me how to swim, how to ride a bike, how to fight.”

“And you?”

“I? I helped him with his reading,” Azriel rubbed his chin, his stance a little tense.

She didn’t say anything, waiting to see if he felt like sharing more.

“It was neglected,” he said at last. “His reading and writing. So, we sat together, late at night, at our foster parents’ house and read.”

He then asked, “coffee?”

The moment of reminiscing was over, and Elain did not press.

She nodded to one of the cupboards and he pulled out a tub of coffee and grimaced.

“This is what you drink?”

“Hey, it’s good coffee! I buy it at Trader Joe’s!” she laughed defensively.

“Baby, we are drinking Italian coffee in this house,” he decided, and there was no arguing with that logic.

 That’s how Elain became Azriel’s ‘baby’.

In their house, they always drank Italian coffee.

 Twenty minutes later, there was a knock on the door.

“Thanks Nu,” Azriel greeted a lanky, very thin, very tall girl, who handed him two packages and then winked at him and disappeared wordlessly.

“My assistant, Nuala,” he explained, showing Elain two packages of Lavazza coffee. “This will do for now.”

Elain hobbled to the small butcher block island that she’d restored from a console that she found at a flea market. “You text someone and they just appear?”

He grinned and shrugged innocently.

“I know a guy.”

“Of course you do. Are you in the mafia?”

“First of all, rude,” he placed a plate of chocolate chip pancakes in front of her and then poured her coffee, “second of all, I just know a guy.”

“Who knows where to buy Lavazza on a Saturday morning?” she wondered, tucking into the pancakes.

“I have a network of spies,” he winked at her.

She sipped on the coffee, perhaps not as good a cup as he’d made her at his garage, but glorious nevertheless. “Are you in the CIA?”

“Not in the mafia or the CIA. Just a lowly car guy.”

“Uh-uh.”

They toasted with their coffee cups and Azriel said, “not bad for a first date. Blood and flowers. Very romantic.”

It was that morning, that sunny Saturday morning, over a plate of pancakes and some Italian coffee that Elain Archeron fell in love.

She fell in love completely.

Utterly.

Irreversibly.

And forever.

Now

Azriel turned off to some side road and how he knew where to go, Elain had no idea, but she just enjoyed the scents and warmth of the day.

“You know,” she laughed. “We are literally under the Tuscan sun right now!”

“All your dreams are coming true,” he ran a loving hand over her bare arm and she tore her gaze from the scenery around her.

“My dreams came true when I met you,” she confessed. “That was the day.”

“So easily impressed!” he teased, but she saw that her words touched something in him. His face softened with happiness.

“Az, slow down,” she whispered, an almost painful pull to kiss him spreading over her. “I want to kiss you.”

He looked at her, eyes hidden behind his Aviator shades, but slowed down and she leaned towards him and planted her mouth on his cheek.

“Lips,” she murmured with audible desperation.

“Baby, I don’t want to bust up this nice Ferrari,” he laughed. “And you, who is riding in it.”

Pouting, she ordered, “Then pull over so I can kiss you!”

He laughed louder, throwing his head back, his gorgeous tanned neck annoyingly desirable.

She wanted to bite his vein, lick the salty skin of his neck, and then sink her teeth into his shoulder. Elain was a biter. And a scratcher. Good thing that Azriel was a benevolent lover, who didn’t care if she left his body marked with her love, and didn’t mind the pain. In fact, he encouraged it.

His heavy brown hand lay on her knee, under the hem of her summer dress and he said,

“Why don’t I do something nice for you… then you can kiss me…”

“But I want to kiss you now,” she frowned playfully.

His hand slid a little higher, up her bare thigh, and he pressed his scarred palm into her thin, tender skin, rubbing slowly, indulgently. This was just as much for her as it was for him.

She threw her head into the back of the seat, eyes closed.

Until she yelped softly, when his wicked hand slipped higher and higher, pushing her dress up as well.

“Azriel Bagarat,” she murmured, “what am I going to do with you? And your love for public nudity and lovemaking…”

He shrugged oh so innocently and said, “firstly, it’s Archeron to you, and,”

“Not just yet,” she wiggled her ring-clad hand in front of him, “not until we got the paper and all, to make us official,”

They rolled their eyes at the same time and then laughed.

“And secondly, who can blame me?” he leaned and kissed her shoulder. “You are very hot. And I sort of want to fuck you all the time.”

His long, very experienced fingers made their way even higher, until he drew them along the cotton of her underwear, lightly pressing into the cleft, teasing ever so lightly. She shifted against the fingertips, her thighs falling apart in silent encouragement.

Elain was a giving and a receptive lover, innately knowing what he wanted and accommodating both of their needs thoughtfully, and easily.

“What do you want, baby?” he murmured.

“To kiss you,” she insisted stubbornly.

He huffed his amusement, and then pushed his finger deeper, firmer against the cotton, whispering,

“How about this?”

“This is nice, I suppose,”

“Only nice?” he withdrew his finger in warning and she grabbed his wrist, and thrust it back in place.

“Maybe a little better than ‘nice’, huh?” he teased.

“A little,” she agreed, gasping when he cupped her fully, swiping his heel of his palm against the length of her folds, feeling the dampness against his skin. Bold, as he always was, he moved the strip of cotton to the side, and hiked up her dress ever higher, exposing her to his exploration.

He snuck a glance at her perfectly peachy, pink pussy, bare and succulent, like a ripe fruit dripping with its sweet juices.

He groaned and then hissed, “I am stopping, right now. I want you coming on my tongue in the next four minutes,”

“So confident, ombre?”

She took to calling him ombre or ‘shadow’, when, early in their relationship, he kept materializing in front of her out of nowhere, stepping out of the shadows. He laughed, but didn’t mind the endearment. What’s more, it became a private thing between the two of them—he’d call her ‘rose’ and she’d call him ‘ombre’. It wasn’t nauseatingly sugary sweet and could be used in public without making people gag. Unlike, for example, the Darlings, who, for whatever reason called each other ‘my darkness’. Or Cassian, who sometimes went with ‘schmoopie’, braving Nesta’s wrath.

Azriel laughed, while incessantly dragging his finger back and forth over the wet slit, without doing much else, and making her gasp and squirm.

“That I can make you come on my tongue in 4 minutes? Fuck yeah! Want me to prove it?”

“Oh, no, no, no,” she shook her head, “you don’t get to just do whatever the hell you want, when you want it. If I don’t get my kiss, you don’t get to,”

“What? Lick your pussy? I feel like the punishment is unreasonable,” he protested.

She gave him a sultry look, a look that only he was privy to, and then murmured, spreading her legs a little wider for him,

“Maybe I want to lick something of yours?” she proposed, her voice husky, pouring like honey over his ear.

“I wouldn’t be opposed,” he choked out, finally parting the soft cushions of her folds and dragging his knuckles over the wet spread of her. The intoxicating scent of her arousal, mixed with the Italian sunshine and the smell of grass, flowers and cypresses was so heady, he almost swerved, stopping only quick enough to grip the steering wheel tightly in his left hand.

Gods, if he was going to make it to their next destination, he would be impressed with himself. But it was close.

Azriel

Elain loved getting fingered. That was the first thing he learned about her sexually—kissing and fingering.

In the privacy of their world, he fingered her constantly.

It was almost an obligation on his part by now, to have her wake up, tucked into his side, while gently, but thoroughly pumping her soft, indescribably tight center. No matter how many times he’d been inside of her, she remained tight, as tight as the first time. That was a blessing, but a curse as well, for all he could typically think about throughout the day, was sinking into that glorious tightness.

When she was finally semi-awake, she rolled on her back and spread her legs in front of him, so he could finger her in earnest. Two fingers first, nice and deep inside of her, as he knelt in front of her and watched her come undone before him. And then, there was always a moment when her eyes flew open, and her back arched, and he slipped the third one in. The plush, warm walls of her sex stretched and pulled to accommodate him, but he went slow and deep, only grazing the sensitive spot in her, making her moan low and begging, the pressure of his hand steady and firm.

She cried and cried into the pillow, head thrown back in utter extasy, her hair a tangled halo about her. She wasn’t permitted to move her hips, his only order in that early-morning game of theirs, therefore she was wholly dependent on him for her pleasure. If she ever did begin a sensual undulation of her hips around his hand, he’d allow her to continue for a few moments, aware that she was lost in her own pleasure, before cruelly yanking his hand out of her.

“Was my girl allowed to do that?” he’d ask simply, and amidst her disappointed panting, her pleading for more, her sweet, innocent “sorry. I am sorry,” she’d beg him to fill her again.

Then she’d lay still, eyes wide and pleading, her little opening vibrating at the loss, before he placed her feet on his shoulders and thrust in her anew. This time, his scarred, rough, brown, inked fingers disappeared in her completely. She buckled and let out a wild moan that reverberated from the very depth of her, because all four fingers were inside, and his thumb finally, finally began a gorgeously slow torment around her clit. She just lay there, tense and unmoving, watching him, the slurping, obscene sounds of his hand inside of her filling the sleepy morning air around them.

Elain came quietly. She moaned and twisted and gasped as he rubbed her clit, but when the waves finally descended upon her, when he felt the tight, silky flesh grip and pump all four of his fingers, which were now pressing up into her perfect spot, the exhale was soft and intimate. Only for him.

Now

“Don’t wreck the car,” Elain muttered, eyes barely open.

“Will this be the second one?” Azriel asked, while Elain wrapped her hand around his wrist and forcefully jammed his hand inside of her.

Four.

Four orgasms daily. That was his promise.

He’d provide her with at least four daily orgasms. So far, he typically exceeded expectations. It wasn’t particularly difficult, because he often played with her at odd times—when they were watching TV, he’d slip a finger onto her clitty and rub her slowly and leisurely, until she melted from the stimulation. She enjoyed it when he bent her over counters or sinks, and sunk his fingers deep and hard into her perpetually ready hole.

Elain, to his complete delight and fascination, was always just a bit aroused. Always, always just a bit wet, just a little damp for him. He’d make an unscheduled stop at her shop and if it was empty, he’d step behind the counter with her, and soon, she’d be splayed over the counter, his hand between her legs. Yes, they’ve been almost caught plenty of times, but Azriel had the ability to disappear into shadows as soon as he sensed someone coming. Sometimes, when someone would walk in the store, Azriel even pretended that he was a customer, buying flowers, watching her patiently, while she got his bouquet ready for him. Never mind that his hand might have been soaked with her slick, or that he smirked, watching her press her thighs together, while she wrapped the flowers, as she avoided eye contact with him, and handed him the bouquet which he’d inevitably bring home for her.

When he was around her, she jokingly complained that she was of constant need for him, and it was his very enviable and pleasant task to soothe the ache inside of her.

 Azriel

Their friends, family, found their relationship perplexing. But Elain kept her sisters firmly at an arm’s length when it came to the discussion of their sex life. No matter how they tried to pry, she gently, but firmly rebuffed them. Nesta complained and said that they were too obsessed with each other. That Elain was too in love and that Azriel was too dependent on Elain’s love for this to be normal. Elain only shrugged and didn’t argue.

 “It’s not normal!” seethed Nesta, watching Elain and Azriel wrapped around each other on the dance floor, Elain’s body shimmying and swaying around her, arms raised in the air, her hips swooshing to the beat, bumping into his pelvis.

“You think they are gonna do it right on the dancefloor?” Cassian contemplated quietly, not sure if this was outside the realm of possibilities.

“He would!” she spat and gulped down her Aperol spritz aggressively. “I am surprised he is not bending her over…more surprised she isn’t agreeing!”

“They never argue,” Cassian nodded.

“They never—never—argue. It’s not normal!”

The way Cassian saw it, as long as the two were happy, he had no right to judge.

Nesta was a hot pepper. Feyre, an apple—solid, tasty, dependable. Elain—whipped cream—a delicious topping over anything, but especially Azriel.

 Nevertheless, the word got around.

One day, Azriel, Rowan and Cassian were sitting in Elain’s flower shop, toiling diligently over a huge order of flowers.

They wouldn’t admit it to anyone, not to each other, or their women, but they quite enjoyed hiding in that flower shop and arranging flowers. They claimed that they were doing it for Elain’s sake, to help her out, so she didn’t have to hire additional help just yet, but,

Well, they liked it.

At first, Elain wasn’t sure if Cassian was cut out for the task, because the very first try was a little rough.

“Cass, these are not your enemies that you are about to smite,” Elain instructed gently, prying his fingers from the stems of irises, which he was clutching like he was about to throw a lance.

“Pfff, you look like you are about to choke a chicken,” Nesta teased. And promptly realised her mistake, biting her lip.

Cassian cocked his brow and murmured seductively,

“What chicken am I choking, sweetheart? My own,”

“Oh no,” Elain stepped in between them, hands on her hips. “No. No. No. Absolutely not.”

“Lainey, don’t allow Cass to choke his chicken in front of us,” begged Azriel, working quickly and deftly, and soliciting an envious look from Cassian, whose flowers were in complete disarray, compared to Azriel’s neat piles and methodical assembly line.

“Yes, no one is choking chickens, penises or each other in here,” ordered Elain sternly, while Nesta and Azriel were laughing silently.

“Hehe,” smirked Cassian, “Elain said ‘penis’!”

“Take your dirty talk and deeds,”

Dirty deeds done dirt cheap, dirty deeds done dirt cheap

Cassian began rocking to his own singing, imitating the gravel of Brian Johnson’s voice rather successfully, headbanging over his babybreath, bluebells and irises.

Chicken choking forgotten for a moment.

 As Cassian fussed over a vase, working on each stem and arranging them just so, wearing a little white apron no less, he asked casually, “So, brother, four?”

Azriel was in his own headspace, and he didn’t even hear Cassian, as he was busy with his own flower arrangement.

There was, expectedly, a competition going on—who’d complete the most arrangements in an hour. Rowan, a veritable giant, and Cassian’s best friend, also wore an apron, but a long one, like a butcher, and was significantly ahead of the pack. That bothered Azriel more than he cared to admit. So, he was re-strategizing his strategy.

“Four what?” Rowan inquired, not taking his eyes off the flowers, working like a machine.

“Ask Az here,” Cassian suggested. He was catching up to Azriel with an alarming speed.

Azriel had never lost, so far. He wasn’t going to lose today.

“Stop speaking in riddles. What are you talking about?”

“Word on the street is that our Az here provides the flower girl with a minimum of four orgasms on the daily,”

Azriel started and finally tore his eyes from the flowers.

Both Rowan and Cassian were watching him, smirking.

“I guess it’s true then,”

“Fuck off.”

“If that’s true,” Rowan drawled, “good for you, man. Though you are putting us to shame with this ridiculous offer of yours. How do you keep up?”

“Easily,” Azriel shrugged. “But it’s freaking me out that you two are talking about my sex life so casually.”

“But fucking four? Daily?” repeated Cassian, shaking his head.

“Yeah, Elain, man,” Rowan rubbed the back of his head, mussing his silver hair, “who would’ve thought?”

Cassian nodded, “No offense, brother, but Elain doesn’t strike anyone as particularly adventurous in the bedroom,”

“And that’s where you’d be wrong,” Azriel said simply.

“Very beautiful,” offered Rowan pacifically, “but…you know…Kind of like Elide, I guess. You wouldn’t know it, looking at her,”

Cassian was nodding. “Yeah, she looks like she eats macaroons and reads Jane Austen,”

“Macarons,” said Azriel.

“What?”

“It’s macaron. Not macaroon.”

“What the hell is the difference?”

“One is a French biscuit, made with almond flour and filled with a creamy filling. The other, is a coconut concoction that one usually eats at Passover.”

Rowan was chuckling. Cassian was shaking his head, grunting, “you would know. So, does she? Eat maca--,”

“No, she doesn’t even like macarons. And she doesn’t read Jane Austen. She reads espionage novels. She likes Daniel Silva. Any more stupid questions?”

Elide. Of course. He should’ve guessed.

Elain and Elide met through Rowan and it was friendship at first sight.

Azriel couldn’t argue—the two women were similar in many ways. Both were on a quiet side, polite, well-mannered. Elain—a ray of sunshine, tall, slender and curvaceous, smiling and affable, with piles of golden-brown locks and warm brown eyes. Elide—the opposite—small, pale, with perfectly straight, silky black hair and dark, midnight eyes. Both—crafty in the ways of the world, charming, when needed, capable of getting into everyone’s good graces, and therefore, getting what they wanted.

“No, no more stupid questions,” said Cassian. “Just don’t know how you two grumps attracted such lively girls,”

“Lorcan and I aren’t ‘grumps’. We just talk when we need to and don’t have the need for instant gratification or to be the center of attention. Something I can’t say about you,”

“It’s not about me,” Cassian protested, but Azriel stopped him, by raising his finger,

 “Now, if you are not going to shut the fuck up about my woman and me, I will spread a rumour amongst your women, that it’s not four, but six. Daily. Let’s see how you measure up then.”

Silence fell.

Azriel won.

His 36th win.

 Now

 “Yes, the second,” Elain nodded with a satisfied smile.

 Azriel

 Naturally, today, he woke her up properly, as he always did.

They stayed in an adorable little villa, near Montepulciano. It was everything a Tuscan villa was supposed to be…

including the dust that settled in its 800-year-old walls. And Elain coughed and coughed and coughed, surprisingly not coughing up a lung.

“We can’t stay here,” Azriel said, frowning.

“Where are going to go? We are in the middle of Tuscany and it’s 10 pm,” she reminded him.

Ever resourceful, he dragged the mattress off the antique bed and plopped it down on the floor of their small balcony.

“We sleep here. Under the night Tuscan sky.”

It was a lovely, if chilly night, and Elain would’ve enjoyed it if she didn’t fall asleep almost immediately and slept through the night.

She was still asleep, when the birds began their morning song and Azriel positioned her on her hands and knees, and carefully removed her nightgown, baring her to the dry, cool morning air.

“Someone will see us,” she murmured sleepily.

She tucked her hands under her cheek, and followed the direction of Azriel’s hand on her hip, rising her butt high up, and arching her back for him.

Azriel loved having sex out in the open. Especially if she was completely naked. He wasn’t overt about it, but the thrill of being found out, the titillating desire to be watched was always present. She knew it. She indulged his fantasies.

“I don’t think anyone would mind watching you,” he whispered hotly in her ear and lightly bit the apple of her cheek. “But it’s also like 4:15 in the morning. So maybe they are still sleeping.”

He settled behind her and she felt his hands on her back, smoothing over the sharp cut of her tight waist and then the soft curve of her hips.

“Spread your legs for me, my love, I want to play with you a little bit,” he guided her, and she followed his direction, squatting inelegantly on her knees, thighs wide apart for him. He cupped her fully in his palm and then pinched her clit, hard, twisting it and rubbing it between his two fingers, until she bit her forearm, trying to stifle her cries of instant pleasure.  He pinched again, then again, rubbing tightly, while he bit her buttock playfully, but hard enough to leave a pink mark.

“Mmmm,” she groaned, when he nibbled on her flesh again, tugging on the swollen clit with relentless dedication. She managed to twist enough to kiss his knee and whispered, eyes still closed, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, my beautiful girl,” he leaned forward and kissed her wet, stretched opening, dragging his tongue around and around the rim, “and you are so nice and wet for me in the morning. My good girl, what do you want?”

“Only you,” she vowed. “Only you, my Az.”

“Let’s fill your pretty little hole then,” he licked on it again, and then slid one strong, long finger inside. As he began to pump her slowly, he proposed, “When I fill you with my cock later on,”

“Uh oh,” she moaned dreamily, smiling a loving smile, enjoying his finger to the fullest.

“I think I’d like to add a finger or two as well. What do you think?”

“I’d like that, I think,” she complied easily.

Elain was not a particularly imaginative lover, but Azriel was the opposite—he had too much imagination when it came to everything. Especially Elain, and what he liked to do with her sexually. What was absolutely fantastic, and he thanked all the gods for this phenomenon, was that Elain was willing to try anything. She was an absolutely willing and eager lover, who learned from him and learned of her body with readiness and joy. He dominated her completely, but that was the nature of their relationship, and they easily fell into their roles, from the very beginning. She was submissive, loved praise, and loved being guided and told what to do. More than anything else, she loved pleasing him. There was never any pull and push, no competition, no power struggles. Elain was made for him, created and carved from something that was innately his, whether it was his body or his mind, and they lived and loved harmoniously. He complimented her perfectly: her temperament, her needs, her wants. He treated her with admiration, gentleness, adoration and respect, and while his own expectations were high, she met them all with ease. She took control when she needed to. Received what she wanted from him, however she needed to. And he gave and gave.

Some, or many, called them soulmates.

Perhaps that’s what they were. Or maybe, they were even more than that.

Azriel stretched his legs on either side of her curved body and then added another finger inside of her sopping, slippery opening, reaching deep into her and pumping her firmly.

“Auuuu, babe, it’s good…” she squealed, “it’s so good.”

Unable to wait any longer, he pulled her buttocks apart with his available hand and swept his tongue over the tiny opening, causing her to seize with surprise and pleasure. Instinctively, she moved her hips against his tongue, pushing her backside into his lips. He licked the little hole in earnest, dragging his tongue back and forth between both of her openings, making her tremble and shudder every time his tongue reached one or the other.

As he sat to the task of licking and sucking her tight hole, he thrust a third finger into her dripping passage, feeling her shift against his face to accommodate the stretch. It was a lot, and she whimpered and moaned from the pressure, but he knew that she could take four, though he wasn’t in a hurry, and worked her diligently and steadily, his tongue laving the other hole just as eagerly.

She was shaking between his legs, her toes curling beneath her, rapid pants escaping into the morning mists, her hair draping the tiled floor in front of her, even spilling through the balcony rails.

Somewhere they heard sheep bleating and Elain laughed softly, before arching her back even further, not caring how splayed she looked. There wasn’t a part of her that he hasn’t seen, hasn’t touched or licked or kissed, not an inch of her that wasn’t caressed by his rough hands, not an orifice that he hasn’t penetrated with his magnificent cock. He’d burrowed inside of her so deeply, so wholly, he possessed all of her and she knew what it’s like to truly be part of another person, to be loved with egregious passion.

He fed another finger inside of her and she cried out, trembling and grunting, as she grabbed and squeezed his foot with mighty strength.

He tore his lips away from her bottom and grinned,

“Love, when you are in labour with our baby, I am fully prepared for the fact that you will break my fingers, maybe even my hand.”

“I am sorry,” she laughed, and kissed his foot, dragging her tongue over his toes.

There wasn’t a part of him that she did not love, did not worship with everything she had. No part of his body remained un-kissed, un-touched, un-caressed. A lazy Sunday, especially if the weather was crap and they had no plans to go out, was her favourite time—she could spend the day loving her Azriel. On those days, she pleasured him. And if she spent hours with his cock buried in her throat, or his balls between her lips, or her tongue in his ass, she was only too happy.

The tips of his fingers crawled into that hidden spot inside of her, curling just so, so he could massage and rub her into a frenzy. He stilled for a moment, to allow her to adjust to the fullness and the stretch, as she bit his foot, trying to stifle her screams. She leaked slowly over his hand, as most of it was situated in her clutching, hungry tightness.

“Very good, my baby,” he praised, kissing her buttocks and then giving her anus a few approving licks, “taking all four inside of you,”

“Oh my god, oh,” she groaned, “it’s so tight…Az, my love, I am so full,”

“I know, love,” he coaxed evenly, his hand beginning a steady, firm barrage of deep, pounding thrusts, “but it’s nice, isn’t it?”

“Yeess,” she only managed, voice thin, pleading. She could barely hold herself up, so he wrapped his arm around her hips, keeping her ass up. She grabbed the balcony wrought-iron spindles, squeezing them tightly, forehead pressed into the mattress, as he pumped her harshly, keeping her on the verge of constant climax, but pulling back just so, for her to moan and beg him in a never ending litany.

“Baby, you want to come?” he teased, still busy with her butthole, which softened under his furious sucking and if they had more time and privacy, Elain would be ready to take him anally soon enough.

“Yes,” she grunted, “yes,”

“Ask nicely, and maybe,”

“Ugh, you are such a horrible tease,” she complained, biting his foot in spite, and he laughed, before slapping her firm, soft buttock.

“Biting a person who is making you come so nicely?” he slapped her again, and she yelped with pleasure, wiggling her ass, silently asking for more.

The walls of her passage clenched desperately over his fingers, and she made a choking, frantic sound in her chest, now beyond pleading or even moaning. He sucked, and slapped, and bit, and thrust, pumping her open, the sounds of the wet and the skin inside of her completely obscene, and music to both of their ears.

Azriel noticed a man, either a delivery guy or a grounds keeper, watching them wide eyed and shocked from a distance. Probably not something he expected to see at 4:40 in the morning. Not that he made a move to leave.

Azriel opted not to alarm Elain, who was coming violently on his hand, her body trembling and jerking, her beautiful, quiet orgasm sweeping everything in its path. His girl deserved a proper wake up, deserved and needed her climaxes, and deserved to be watched, because she was so beautiful. Her teeth and tongue clamped tightly on his foot, his toes, as she bit and licked, completely undone, turned inside out by his expert hand.

He still worked her hand in her, his thrusts shallow and not as strong, when she collapsed on the mattress at last, eyes closed, panting.

He smiled and finally slipped on the mattress alongside her, though he kept a finger between her folds, rubbing soothingly. She’d bite his head off if he removed his hand from her this quickly.

“Good morning my love,” he whispered at last, kissing her cheek.

“Mmmm, good morning,” she sighed with satiated pleasure.

“Some guy caught an eyeful,” he whispered, but she only snuggled to his chest.

“I don’t care…As long as you were watching me, that’s all that matters.”

“I wouldn’t mind sliding into your little bum right now,” he confessed, stroking her hip and her curvy backside.

“Do you want to take me?” she offered sweetly, eyes fluttering open.

He kissed her head and smiled, “So tempting, but not here and not now. Let’s jump in the shower and then be on our way. We’ve got a decent amount of driving to do today.”

She nodded.

“Did I tell you that I love you?” she stroked his cheek, the sharp, angular cut of it, the dark bronze skin.

“You did, but I wouldn’t mind hearing it again.”

“I love you, Azriel.”

“I love you, Elain.”

 Elain

Their day was long.

They had their cappuccino and cornetti at some café on the road.

Their trip had a purpose—they were actually driving to Maranello, to the Ferrari headquarters where Azriel had 3 days of business meetings.

When Az told her that he was thinking of going to Italy, it was no brainer to say ‘yes’.

It was the first time she was going to leave her business, her shop, for an extended period of time, but Feyre promised to oversee the operations, while Cerridwen, whom Elain recently hired as a full-time employee and who was Nuala’s sister, was going to be responsible for the day-to-day.

The last time Elain’s been to Italy was when she was barely 10 years old. A few years before everything’s went to shit. Back then, her father completed a very lucrative business deal and there was a lot of disposable cash, so the family decided to take a grand trip to Italy.

Little Feyre who was only seven screeched and begged to go to Disneyland, while Nesta and their mother voted for Italy. No one asked Elain, assuming that she’d go wherever she was told.

The trip was extensive, almost four weeks, and they hit all the glamorous Southern parts—the Amalfi coast, with their headquarters in a rented villa near Positano. Then they went to Portofino, and their father rented a yacht for a few days, the trip culminating in Capri. It was a whirlwind on sun and the sea, of lemons, eating grilled squid, at which Feyre stared in horror, though she liked the taste, amazing fruit, endless pastries and gelato. Even their mother yanking a few pastries away from Elain, hissing that she ‘grow fat and not find a husband’ didn’t mar the experience. Elain, always the plumper of the sisters, was used to the warning by then.

 This time around, Elain could eat as much pastry as she wanted.

They landed in Rome, spent four days there, since she insisted on going to the Vatican Museum twice, hear Mass at St. Peter’s, and she didn’t know if she annoyed Azriel with her endless excitement and tales of art, artists, and biblical stories, but she couldn’t help herself.

She was an Art History major in NYU, receiving a full scholarship to attend. She loved it. Didn’t like college all that much as a whole, but loves studying. When everyone was partying, drinking, fucking and skipping classes, she went to the Met and to MOMA and learned and enjoyed herself. She loved history of religion, of other cultures and though not at all religious herself, none of them were, her knowledge on the subject was thorough.

Azriel, it seemed, liked her passion, her excitement, and listened attentively when she went on long explanation of what this or that Saint did and what grizzly death they’d suffered. And what was the significance of the painting or sculpture of the said Saint. Obviously, he was very artistically inclined as well, though his preference lay in design and industrial art, but he enjoyed listening and discussing. They spent hours and hours meandering the halls of the museum, and of the cathedral, and both spent a good half an hour in front of the Pieta, staring in silence and quiet contemplation at the sculpture, holding hands.

It was when they were sitting at a café, sipping some bitter Campari cocktails and watched the sprawling vistas of Rome that Azriel confided to her. Told her of his childhood. She knew some of the details, but he never talked about his childhood, and she opted not to pressure him. It was clear enough that it was horrific in many ways, and bringing up all those memories didn’t make sense to Elain.

Told her how his father, who was rich and vicious, won custody of him from his mother, not because he wanted his son, but out of spite, to torment the mother. And then it was years of solitude and loneliness and emotional and physical abuse. Azriel’s only reprieve was drawing, making designs, sometimes with chalk on the pavement, sometimes on scraps of paper. His stepmother threw everything out as soon as he made it. He languished in his father’s world for 8 years, until a catastrophic event took place—his stepbrothers doused him, his hands, in gasoline and lit him up. They didn’t call the paramedics either, and simply stood there, watching, as he burned. Finally, the neighbors heard his screams and police and ambulance came at last.

Because he was young, he recovered most of the sensations and feeling in his hands, but the skin was permanently scarred and his father refused skin grafts.

He’d met Cassian at the hospital, who came there having been beaten so badly by his foster father, that he had a concussion, broken ribs and a punctured eye socket.

Mrs. Darling, Rhys’s mother, who was one of the biggest benefactors of the children’s hospital where they were recovering, heard their stories and thankfully, her wealth opened every door. Her influence and wealth were no match for Azriel’s father. Hence when she decided that she wanted to adopt the two boys, little could be done to dissuade her. Azriel and Cassian still spent some time in foster care, while the documents were being processed and all the formalities legalized, but at the end, they ended up with the Darlings, as their adopted sons.

Elain wanted to cry for him, for his destroyed childhood, for his tormented youth, for his injuries, for the lack of love in his life. For his sake, though, she didn’t.

Sensing that he needed her support, she didn’t release his hand for the remainder of the day.

And she told him how much she loved him and how happy he made her.

 They left Montepulciano, and then drove for a few hours and stopped at Orvieto, and explored its unnecessary enormous Duomo, which was situated on the hill, amidst the Umbrian lushness. The tiny town did offer spectacular views and great wine, which they enjoyed with lunch.

 Now

Azriel worked his fingers into the supple warmth of her damp pussy and looked down, before ordering, “wider, Lainey”.

She spread her legs wider, her knit dress folded haphazardly over the belly.

“Wider,” he said and she placed one foot on the seat, exposing herself completely to him.

It was never wide enough for him, for he liked to see everything, liked to spread and open and pull her wide apart for his eyes, for his exploration.

He pressed his thumb to her plump pink clit and began to rub.

She whined impatiently and he smiled,

“We are almost there…”

“I need you,” she moaned, kissing his shoulder through his shirt.

“I need you too, my beauty,” he nodded, “but I think once we get there, you’ll forget all about me.”

She tsked and announced, “I don’t know if anything will impress me as much as your cock in my mouth,”

He started at the blunt words, her amused grin and then burst out laughing.

“Naughty.”

In a few minutes, he rounded a small green hill and Elain’s breath caught in her throat.

“Oh, gods…Az…”

He was smiling.

He’d never been here before, but he’d done his research, finally finding the right spot.

A tiny hidden valley, nestled between a few rolling Tuscan hills, with a small turquoise lake sparkling in the late afternoon sun. In the distance, a mandatory Tuscan villa.

And poppies. Fields of poppies, stretching as far as the eye can see. A blanket of ruby-red poppies, gently swaying in the pine-scented air.

This place was a damn Walmart painting come true, and Azriel loved it for its kitsch, its predictability.

“It’s gorgeous!” she gasped. Then chuckled, adding, “Like one of those mass-produced paintings,”

At that, Azriel roared with laughter, killed the engine and they got out of the car.

“My thoughts exactly!” he nodded vigorously.

She ran into the poppies, brushing her palm over the petals, “But it’s worth it! No painting can ever do this justice! Az…it’s so beautiful!” she twirled in the field of red, her white dress a stark contrast to the vibrancy of the colours around her—the cobalt of the cloudless sky, the emerald green of the hills, the blood-red of the poppies.

He folded his arms and said, “I am glad you like it.”

“Like it? I love it!”

She inspected all the wildflowers that bloomed among the poppies, picking a few purple ones and a daisy and tucking them behind her ear. Another daisy she brought to him and tucked it into his hair.

“There is a blanket in the trunk,” he jerked his head towards the car, and unbuttoned his shirt almost to the navel, “if you want to picnic,”

“I want to picnic!” she squealed and ran to the car to get what she needed.

Soon there was a blanket on the grass and a few bottles of wine in a basket.

He slid down, stretching on the blanket, toeing off his shoes, rolling his shoulders. This was nice. He also relished her happiness, how her high ponytail bounced about as she ran through the field barefoot, and then began twirling, arms outstretched and singing loudly,

The hills are alive with the sound of

Griswold, he helped out.

“Are you coming here?” he called out, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“No,” she yelled, “I am picking flowers!”

“They’ll wilt,” he muttered reasonably, but she didn’t hear him.

Azriel dozed off, surprising himself. But the pleasant heat, the sunshine, the breeze, the birds—all lulled him into sleep. He stirred only when he sensed Elain near, and when he opened his eyes, he was treated by a lovely surprise. He propped himself on his elbows and watched his beautiful girl walk towards him completely naked, with a heap of flowers in the crook of her arm. What she did with her dress he didn’t know and didn’t care. But he drunk in the slim, curvy silhouette of her body, the long, slender legs and the toned thighs. Her smooth, pink sex glistened just a bit with her usual arousal, and full breasts bounced with every step. Her hair flowed behind her, unbound.

“I got hot,” she announced.

He grinned.

“I can see that. I like it when you get hot like this.”

She stood over him, her delicious slit taunting him and he made to touch it, but she dumped all the flowers on him instead and said, “get up”.

“Why?!” he frowned. “I am so comfortable.”

“I can make you a little more comfortable,” she promised, “but for that, you have to get up.”

With a groan, he got on his feet, only to have her slide on her knees in front of him. She looked up and murmured, “by the time you are done with me, I only want to have gelato to soothe my throat.”

He swallowed audibly, watching her unbutton his trousers and then his shirt. She removed the pants completely, but left the white shirt on, before placing a few soft, loving kisses on the thick slabs of muscles on his stomach. The well-defined outline of his Adonis Belt she traced with her tongue, inevitably making her way from his hip towards the final destination.

“And I want my knees bruised,” she added with a wicked smirk.

He flicked her nose and shook his head, “such filthy words coming from this pretty little mouth.”

She licked her lips with impatience, hungrily watching him fist his member and give it a few rough, preliminary strokes.

“Gods, your cock is gorgeous,” she gasped with admiration, watching him work himself with practiced determination.

“You like my cock?” he drew the thick, smooth head of it over her full lips and she whimpered with anticipation, nodding, kissing it affectionately, with slow, open mouth kisses, as he continued to pump it lazily.

She admitted, “more than anything. Az, Az,” she begged impatiently, as he smeared a trickle of liquid that dribbled from the tip over her lips, “please,”

“Please what?”

She rested her hands on his thighs, kneeling close enough so that her breasts brushed against them, “I want it in my mouth. Please.”

He lightly smacked the thick girth of his shaft over her half-opened mouth, making her shake with anticipation, smiling down at her. Her eyes burned with raw, overwhelming desire.

“But I like it when you ask me, baby. Tell me more,”

“That your cock is gorgeous and ridiculously huge?” she chuckled, relishing in his rubbing the tip insistently over her lips, as she licked the little slit.

“Keep going,” he encouraged.

“That I love you and can’t wait to suck it?”

“Alright, babe,” she nodded at last, “I guess you’ll just have to suck my huge dick,” and with that, he slid between her lips.

She smiled around him and pulled on it deeper, dragging her tongue over and under the thick shaft. It was always just a little too big for her, so she gasped, as he filled her mouth more and more, sliding in steadily. She eased her throat as much as she could, accepting the thrust and feeling the smooth head dip down, brushing the back of her throat. He was watching her intently, every bob and swallow of her throat, making sure that she was comfortable enough to hold him in. “Big?” he murmured. Her eyes teared up, but she managed a small nod. Her hands squeezed his thighs nervously, tightly, stroking the backs of them, while he began to pull out slowly, before sliding back in.

Nothing was more exciting than Elain’s ability to mould her throat around his shaft, while those big brown eyes blinked at him, seeking approval. He put his hand over her head, stroking it, then caressing her face, her hollowed cheeks, while giving her mouth a few exploratory thrusts.

She readied herself and pulled back, releasing the cock with an audible pop, and then licking the underside, from the balls to the tip.

“Just like that, my love,” he nodded, watching her tuck her face in the crease of his hip and slide her tongue up and down the sides of his cock. “Is that good?”

“It’s the best,” she vowed, “I love licking!” she added enthusiastically, proceeding to do just that.

He always remembered that she was very innocent and whatever she knew, no matter how sensual, erotic or even perverse, it all came from him. He taught her—gently, firmly and thoroughly the art of the bedroom and whatever they did, he was completely assured that she enjoyed and wanted every moment of it. Thankfully, she was so innocent that she didn’t know how to pretend or fake anything, especially when it came to sex, and didn’t know how to play games. She was eager and loving and excitable because what they did together, with each other, pleased her, and for no other reason. Azriel cherished this level of honesty more than anything.

Therefore, when she said that she loved licking, she showed him just how much she enjoyed it, licking up and down voraciously, over the sides, watching him unblinking. He cupped the pouch of his balls in one hand and carefully eased it into her mouth.

“You are so good to me,” he groaned, as she wrapped her lips around the ball and began to suck eagerly, not caring if she was loud, smacking her lips, tongue working non-stop, caressing the flesh. She hummed appreciatively around the balls, sending a pleasant shiver down his thighs, her mouth completely filled with him. “That’s good, my girl,” he stroked her head, “just like that. Keep going,” his head fell back with satisfaction, and she swallowed hard around his balls, almost moaning at the sight of his neck, the expression of pleasure written on his face.

“Can I tell you a story?” he muttered huskily, looking back down at her, his eyes dark and his face tense. Elain nodded. He gripped his cock and then slid it back in her mouth, almost to the hilt, making her choke and gag at once, watching her eyes widen.

She was drooling, but she wasn’t sure if it was from the pressure of her member in her throat, or from the visual display of his stunning body above her. The thick pectorals, adorned with black and blue ink twitched as he began to pump in and out of her mouth, hard and steady. He held the back of her head, but the clutch of his hand was light and casual, only keeping her in place, as his narrow hips flexed with each deep push. A delicious bead of sweat ran down the cobbled network of his abdominal muscles, slowly making its way to the deep V etched into his hips, towards the thick cock that he was currently ramming into her mouth.

She drooled. She licked and laved and lapped. She didn’t care how messy or ridiculous she looked, because her man loved her and loved her on her knees in front of him.

“I couldn’t stop watching you talk,” he grumbled, “the first time I saw you. Your plump lips…Oh fuck, baby, you feel so, so good,” he rode her smoothly, with deep, expert strokes, “you wore that rose-tinted lipstick…and all I could think of afterward was those lips wrapped around my dick.”

She smiled over his member, lightly shaking her head, as much as her current position would allow.

“I am sorry, honey,” he smiled at her, “this pervy mind couldn’t think of anything else but getting my dick down your throat.”

And demonstrating just that, and the resolution of his dream, he pushed further.

“Alright?” he asked, carefully holding her jaw. She blinked her approval. He was unable to take his eyes off her, her lush lips wrapped tightly around the dark mass of him, her beautiful eyes tearing from pressure. He wiped the tears with his thumbs and then gave a brief nod, “give me those flowers, baby.”

Obviously, she couldn’t glance down, so she blindly grabbed a handful of flowers and handed them to him, her expression amused, a little surprised.

“What’s more romantic,” he murmured, stroking her hollowed cheeks and then pulling out a little, before pushing back in, “than putting pretty flowers into my Lainey’s hair,” and he plucked a small poppy from the heap, and pushed in into her hair, “while she deepthroats me?”

He was heavy and thick in her mouth, salty, delicious and familiar, and as he began thrusting firmly, the thick head hitting the back of her throat, Elain settled in for a ride. She wasn’t kidding when she asked for her throat to be raw by the end of it—she liked being sore somewhere in her body from him, at all times. Between her legs, inside her rectum, in her throat—it didn’t matter, though it was nice if it was everywhere, but she loved being marked by him in some way.

The hum and rumble in Azriel’s throat, that of masculine satisfaction and some kind of primal dominance made her so wet, she leaked down her thighs. But he didn’t tell her to touch herself, so she didn’t. He just fucked her throat steadily, the audible sound of her choking and sputtering around his cock and the satisfied snarls emanating from him, the only sounds around them. His hips rocked hard, pumping deep, as he garbled endearments and praise to her, “is that so good, honey? You feel amazing…”

She squeezed his thighs in affirmation. As he worked on her, he kept putting flowers in her hair, admiring her sucking and his work, “so gorgeous, baby. My beautiful girl…Good cock?”

“Mmmm,” she only managed, saliva bathing her chin and chest, her eyes rolling back with pleasure and exhaustion.

“Can you handle a little more?” he begged, “I don’t want to come yet, my love,” another flower in her hair. “I love you on your knees with my cock in her mouth.”

He set a brutal rhythm, muttered, “choke, baby…” and she did, gagging and panting over his member, the lack of oxygen making her pliant and obliging, her mouth existing for his pleasure. When they played a little rougher, he could request to squeeze her throat a little with his hand, while he choked her with his cock, but today, he was feeling romantic, as was she.

Her hair dripped with flowers of all kinds, as he fashioned her into some kind of Summer Lady. Or maybe a Dusk Lady, since the sun began its descent and shadows spread over the pretty little valley.

“Fuck me, you are so beautiful,” he grunted, looking down at her. “My flower girl, with my cock in her mouth. Bob a little, love, show me how much you like it,” he encouraged and she immediately began to bob her head  up and down on him, drool sliding down his shaft, her eyes pleading for his approval, which he gave generously.

He gently, kindly stroked her face, her throat, feeling his cock deep inside it, moving in her, rubbing at the indentation with his thumb. Then, he cupped her face between his large hands and murmured, “open up”, thumbs brushing over her damp cheeks, as tears slid down when he started to thrust intently, battering her throat. “My girl is sucking so well,” he was relentless now, pounding and pounding, an Elain thought that she might just pass out from the sensation, feeling lightheaded. Azriel had inhuman stamina when he was between her legs, but that also translated to when he was in her mouth, which meant he could ravage her completely. “I’ll feed you all the gelato myself, if you can suck a little more,” he promised with a smirk, pulling out completely. “Breathe,” he ordered, and she gulped in some air, before he thrust back inside, “are you tired?”

She shook her head ‘no’. She was never tired for him. She moaned, though his cock pushed down all sound with brutal, excited enthusiasm, as he cupped his balls tightly in his hand, readying to finally come. “Fuck, baby, you suck so well,” he squeezed her shoulder, stooping over her, the muscled of his abdomen twitching and tensing, his balls tight against her chin. Grabbing her shoulder with one hand, he cupped her under the jaw and kept her head still, as he exploded in her mouth. He poured down her throat with a pleased, blissful moan, throwing his head back, pumping harshly and erratically, filling her mouth over and over. She sucked and drank, swallowing quickly, gluttonously. Azriel always tasted heavenly, but perhaps it was something about being in Italy and all the fruit and wine that they’ve been consuming, but she couldn’t get enough of him now. He shot rope after rope down her throat and she lapped it all with pleasure. He dropped on his knees, exhausted, his cock still in her mouth, and she stroked and caressed his body soothingly, swallowing the last of him.

“Gods, Elain,” was all he managed, as he finally withdrew in an endlessly long pull from her lips.

She gasped, and licked her lips, before placing a loving, playful kiss on the pink, wet head of the shaft.

“Did you have fun, my love?” she cooed tenderly, as Azriel slumped on the blanket, head her on her lap.

“Baby, why do you spoil me like this?” he moaned, reaching for her bare plump breast and cupping lightly.

“Probably because I love you more than it’s prudent,” she smiled, her voice hoarse. “More than anything. Love you like I didn’t know I could love anybody. Also,”

“Yes?”

His chest constricted from her simple admissions, from the pure earnestness of her words, from the love that was shining in her brown eyes. He was undeserving of this woman, of her overwhelming love for him, of everything that she gave him so selflessly. But he listened and listened, because everything she told him was like a balm on all the wounds of his soul, and music to his heart.

Her lips were gorgeously, obscenely swollen, and he dragged his thumb over their plumpness. She added, “you are very hot.”

“Ahhh,” he chuckled. “So you are using me for my body?”

“I’d be stupid not to use you for your body. You got one hell of a body, my mysterious, shadowy Azriel.”

“Well, flower girl, you go ahead and use my body as much as you want, for anything you desire. It’s yours.”

He kissed her hand. Then, reached up and kissed her pretty pink nipple.

“As is my heart,” he added softly. “Anything you want. It’s all yours.”

She lay next to him, both of them sprawled in the blanket of flowers. She picked a poppy and stuck it behind his ear.

“Pretty boy Azriel.”

He propped his cheek and turned to face her. She was still covered in flowers, from all his handiwork.

“We are good together, aren’t we?” she murmured, laying her hand on his neck.

“We are. We are very good together, Lainey.”

She bit her swollen lip and then said, voice quiet, a little uncertain,

“Maybe you want to marry me?” she proposed.

He stilled, waiting for more.

She squeezed the back of his neck a little tighter and continued, no stopping her now, “I know we were thinking later, maybe next y-,”

“Yes,” he nodded, “yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, Elain, I want to marry you now.”

She gasped, tears of joy moistening her eyes, “In Florence?” she begged.

“Yes. In Florence,” he cupped her face in his. “Let’s go get married!”

[anynerd]

𝔻𝕖𝕛𝕒 𝕍𝕦 - 𝙀𝙭! 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

Y/n's Pov;

I was sitting inside my Car that was parked outside the Mall. Singing the lyrics that was playing on the Radio when I saw someone familiar getting out of the Entrance mall.

Ranboo.. My ex that I just broken up a Month ago.

He was with a Shorter guy that had Brown hair and I saw that they were matching sweaters.

I looked at my own sweater that I was wearing, and I was wearing me and Ranboo's matching sweater cause I didn't have anything else to wear.

Car rides to Malibu

Strawberry ice cream

One spoon for two

And trading jackets

Laughing 'bout how small it looks on you

(Ha-ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha-ha)

Watching reruns of Glee

Being annoying

Singing in harmony

I bet she's bragging

To all her friends, saying you're so unique, hmm

I saw them both going in to a Car with their Windows down. I saw Ranboo giving him a Kiss on the Lips while flashing his camera taking a picture of it.

So when you gonna tell her

That we did that, too?

She thinks it's special

But it's all reused

That was our place, I found it first

I made the jokes you tell to her when she's with you-

Me and Ranboo were inside his Car when he slipped his hand on my Back and pulling me close to him. I looked into his eyes and he kissed my lips with his.

All while I noticed his Phone Flashing right at us.

My eyes were starting to Water and I slowly sobbed as I watched them both.

Ranboo and the other Guy started to play fight and when the other guy stopped and crossed his arms while Pouting Ranboo went over to hug him and while whispering in his ear.

Do you get déjà vu when she's with you?

Do you get déjà vu? (Ah), hmm

Do you get déjà vu, huh?

Do you call her

Almost say my name?

'Cause let's be honest

We kinda do sound the same

Another actress

I hate to think that I was just your type

I'll bet that she knows Billy Joel

'Cause you played her "Uptown Girl"

You're singing it together

Now I bet you even tell her

How you love her

In between the chorus and the verse (ooh) (I love you)

So when you gonna tell her

That we did that, too?

She thinks it's special

But it's all reused

That was the show we talked about

Played you the song she's singing now when she's with you

I started to cry at this point and rolled my window up as I cried my heart out. Remembering me and Ranboo's 2 year relationship.

"Come on Y/n I didn't mean to make you upset" Ranboo said pulling me into his lap and hugging me.

I only puted trying not to show my smile. "Fine but admit it! You cheated on Minecraft!" I said un crossing my arms.

"I told I didn't" he said and started tickling me.

That was the same scenario that was Happening inside the Car with Ranboo and his Other.

I couldn't believe that he had moved on before me and couldn't accept that he was no longer mine.

I started my Car and started driving my Car out the Lot.

Do you get déjà vu when she's with you?

Do you get déjà vu? Oh

Do you get déjà vu?

Strawberry ice cream in Malibu

Don't act like we didn't do that shit, too

You're trading jackets like we used to do

(Yeah, everything is all reused)

Play her piano, but she doesn't know (oh, oh)

That I was the one who taught you Billy Joel (oh)

A different girl now, but there's nothing new

(I know you get déjà vu)

And before I could leave at the Exit I saw Him placing a Camera outside and him carrying the other person out the Car and positioned him in the sky (Simba pose)

And waited for the Sky to flash with Fireworks meaning that it was "Happy New Year's". The Camera took the picture of them two and by the end Ranboo spun him around before giving him a Kiss.

"Happy New Year's" I said and finally drove off the rode

[sanzu-sanzu-sanzu]

pretty sad

Rindou Haitani X Original Character

—

(author’s note) just a brief life update hahaha so i started listening to olivia rodrigo’s ‘sour’ album for the first time yesterday and i just fell in love with it so hard. anyway, this was just a short scenario i thought up while i was at the cashier this morning lol. 

for this one, i mostly borrowed the lyrics from déjà vu. it’s an au where this song with these lyrics exist, not necessarily an olivia rodrigo ahaha because this happens in 2005 ish when the haitani’s are 18-20. i don’t know what to make of this i just needed to write it down. so yeah, i hope you enjoy!

—

Rindou Haitani doesn’t quite catch her name but then again his mind doesn’t think of much else the moment he hears her voice. It’s the melody that first gets his attention, and then suddenly a voice so clear and so sad it strikes a...bone or a muscle or a nerve that he was never aware he even had. He looks up in the same manner one might feel compelled to look over a weeping person’s face, to search for a source for this voice full of hurt and the silent sounds that just reach out.

Across the room, in the low light of the bar and in the midst of the silent crowd, she sits with one leg tucked underneath her on the floor of the slightly elevated stage, her long skirt almost fanning out. One hand clutching the microphone, another on her side, tracing soft patterns in the air like she’s running her hand in water. She softly sways along with the tune and Rindou swears he’s never seen a girl look so peaceful and alone.

And beautiful.

He finds himself longing to see the color of her eyes and he ends up staring long enough to wait for her to open them. And when she does, he is the first thing she sees, across the tables and in the dim booth that sees everything, her mouth curling to form the words and Rindou almost swears he’s the boy she’s singing about.

I bet she’s bragging To all her friends, saying you’re so unique, hmm So when you gonna tell her That we did that too?

“Damn, who hurt her?”

Ran’s slightly amused chuckle cuts through his attention like a knife and it takes Rindou half-a-second longer to think that it’s not them. Because if there’s anybody in the vicinity getting hurt and being put in their right places it’s more likely one of the Haitani brothers’ own doing. He blinks; Ran meant a different kind of hurt.

That was our place, I found it first I made the jokes you tell to her when she’s with you Do you get déjà vu when she’s with you?

He’s heard this song too many times in the radio, but at this moment and in this place it’s hers and Rindou is unable to tear his eyes away. Ran is saying something at the other end of the couch but he’s not paying attention.

‘Cause let’s be honest We kinda do sound the same Another actress I hate to think that I was just your type

“Did you catch her name?”

Ran tilts his head to his brother’s direction and Rindou is able to pinpoint the moment Ran decides to play coy.

“Hm?”

“Her name. Did you hear it?” He says as if bored. “Haven’t seen her around here before.”

It’s funny how his and his brother’s minds work. Something about Ran’s brief side-eye glance and the knowing smirk on his lips simultaneously tell Rindou three things: that his brother did hear her name, that Ran can somehow tell that he okay, maybe slightly badly wants to know, and that Rindou is not gonna get it out of him today without suffering some teasing.

He quietly sighs even before Ran opens his mouth.

“I did.” And then just leaves it at that.

Rindou relaxes back against his seat, eyes effortlessly darting back to the center of the room and finds her.

Well, it’s no problem, he thinks. He’ll have tomorrow night and many more nights to see her again.

Do you get déjà vu when she’s with you?

[ghostdrew22]

Déjà  vu? || Draco Malfoy

Requested: No Pairing: Draco Malfoy x ex!fem!reader Warnings: Idk if this is angsty or not because I initially thought it was but it feels a bit like soft sadness to me? Summary: Y/N getting deja vu as you watch Draco with his new girlfriend (H/N - her name)

WORDS : 1950

Lyrics from “Deja Vu” by Olivia Rodrigo (but I got lazy and only used certain parts)

~~~

Car rides to Malibu Strawberry ice cream, one spoon for two And tradin' jackets Laughin’ 'bout how small it looks on you (Ha-ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha-ha)

“Draco stop!” A voice exclaims before being followed by laughter. You know that you shouldn’t turn around, that it’ll hurt too much, but it’s been said many times that curiosity killed the cat.

He’s holding the very same ice cream order, strawberry and pistachio, and sporting that familiar warm smile that used to comfort you when you got a brain freeze from the ice cream. It had been your idea, ice cream in November, and he’d hated it at first but grew to love it just because it made you happy. That very same order that you’d made him try, strawberry and pistachio, but not for the two of you this time.

It’s difficult to know what you were expecting, something new? Different? A part of you had always known, even while you were the one in H/N’s position, that your moments with Draco would soon be documented and used for a modern remake. If your relationship had been a book, theirs is the movie adaption. If your relationship had been a song, theirs is a cover band’s rendition. Maybe, deep down, you were expecting just this- to see him treating her the same way that he’d treated you.

Those pale hands, that used to fit so comfortably in the expanse of your own, are now tucked safely in-between hers. Oceans of blue that used to run over your shivering figure every November when you made this exact Hogsmeade trip, are now tracing the lines of her face and committing them to memory. Lips, cold and slightly chapped, that were once coaxing laughter from your lungs with horrible puns and crude observations, are now completely and utterly consumed with the sole objective of entertaining her the very same way that they entertained you.

It’s a bitter sight, one would think, but you can’t bring yourself to be jealous. It’s an odd sort of feeling, deja vu, to know that once this moment belonged to you, and now you have to watch it play out in front of you. You know what’s going to happen, down to the footprints that’ll stain the path back to Hogwarts, but this time it’s not you. This time, even though you know what’s going to happen next, it’s not your laughter that’ll be filling the silence as he walks back to school.

Watching reruns of Glee Bein’ annoying, singin’ in harmony I bet she’s bragging to all her friends, saying you’re so unique, hmm

“Draco’s obsessed with this muggle show called Glee. He makes me sing along with him every time we watch it.” She says with a small laugh and a shy smile.

Why, in God’s name, did you decide to study in the library today? Sitting on the other side of the bookshelf behind you, with Millicent Bulstrode, is H/N.

“That’s horrendous.” Millicent replies with a laugh. Maybe if you’d tried harder to be friends with her then she would’ve told H/N that Draco used to do that with you too, that you’re the one who introduced him to muggle tv shows in the first place.

“It’s cute, he’s so… different.”

You swallow hard and try to pour your focus back into your books. That tone, sweet and infatuated, was the tone you used only months before when you spoke about him too. Once again you’re on the other side of the looking glass, staring back at a distorted reflection of yourself. It had been you bragging, drowning quite innocently in your adoration for him and feeling the need to sing your praises out to the world.

Way back when, you were the one forcing him to learn the lyrics to all of your favourite songs. The two of you would lose track of time singing along with the actors and complaining about the unnecessary drama, it was this little world that the two of you created. But now that world, that you built on love and trust, can no longer afford to accommodate you both. Now it’s his world with her.

Without even realising it you start to wonder how it must be when he’s with her. Does she sing off-key too? Does he pepper her with kisses after and make fun of her singing? Do they binge watch episodes or only do one at a time? Does his laugh still drown out the talking whenever something ridiculous happens? Is his favourite character still Sue?

How many pieces of your time together did he take from the puzzle, to form a new one with her?

So when you gonna tell her that we did that, too? She thinks it's special, but it's all reused That was our place, I found it first I made the jokes you tell to her when she's with you

“This alcove is where I come when I want to be alone, no one really comes here.”

No one but me, you think to yourself as you stop in the hallway and overhear Draco whispering to her. Of course he took her to your alcove, why wouldn’t he?

A part of you wishes that he’d tell her that it was you who found this spot, that it was you who’d trudged along the castle one night in a desperate search for some peace and quiet. You want her to know that this was your safe space, that you were the one who invited him there and allowed him to relish in the safety that it provided. It was you who laced your fingers together with his own and dragged him behind you until you’d landed in the spot, you who had to listen to his complaints about how small and cramped it was until he finally got comfortable and fell in love with it. You were the one he used to wrap his arms around and make promises to in the silence of the night, when nothing beside the two of you existed in that alcove.

It’s all blurring together, then and now are nothing but two sides of the same rusted coin. How can you possibly distinguish between your memories and reality when the boundaries keep crossing?

You almost want to laugh at how identical your relationship was to the one they have now. Jokes that you came up with in the sludge of sleepiness, when the two of you used to hide out here on nights when you both felt sad, are now being repeated into the very same air that you breathed only months ago. Promises that you’d both agreed to back then, are being remade in the safety of the night that now belongs to them.

“I love you.”

And

“Forever.”

Are being whispered between the two of them, assurances and pacts to be together till the end of time.

But now you wonder, how long is forever?

Do you get déjà vu when she’s with you? Do you get déjà  vu? (Ah), hmm Do you get déjà vu, huh?

The smell of toast and freshly scrambled eggs wafts through the Great Hall and you struggle to resist the urge to moan out in excitement. Breakfast is your favourite meal and, really, the only meal that’s worth anything. As you plop down in your seat and start to pack your plate in your food you fail to notice, in your sheer joy, that Draco’s sitting across from you with H/N by his side.

It’s not until you’re done piling up your favourites, like an Olympic gold medalist in training, that you notice the couple sat across from you. You observe discreetly as Draco outstretches his hand all over the table to get whatever she wants to eat, and you have to struggle to focus as a wave of déjà vu washes over you.

When had you stopped being the one he arranged plates for? When had he started saving a spot beside him for her, and not you? Literally you know that the answer is roughly around 3 or 4 months ago when the two of you had broken up, but he’d stopped being yours a long time before then and you’d both known it. Little moments of love, that had been the basis of your relationship, had fizzled out into distant memories way before you’d both decided to call it quits.

“Butter or jam, Y/N?”

You’re about to answer, on instinct really, when you realise that he’s not even speaking to you.

But he said your name. Didn’t he?

Do you call her, almost say my name? ‘Cause let’s be honest, we kinda do sound the same Another actress I hate to think that I was just your type

“It was mortifying!” You exclaim as you recount the events of earlier to your best friend.

“How bad could it have possibly been?” She asks with a laugh as she settles into your bed comfortably.

“He looked her dead in the eyes, and called her ‘Y/N’, and to make it one hundred times worse, I was sitting across from them when he did it so they both immediately turned to look at me!” You cry out in embarrassment as you drop your face in a pillow. “I’ve never prayed so hard for the ground to open up and swallow me whole.” You mumble against the fabric and you hear her laugh again.

“Why are you so embarrassed? It wasn’t your mistake.”

“It’s not about that, it’s about how easy it would’ve been for us to return to our roles as boyfriend and girlfriend. I almost answered him!” You sigh. “It’s been what? 3? 4 months? And my mouth still acts on muscle memory. We’re so familiar to each other that we still act on instinct.”

“Are you sure it’s not just because your names sound so similar?” She raises her eyebrows at you and you scoff. “Really? Y/N and H/N sound nothing alike?”

“Nope, not at all.”

“Okay, if you say so.” She shrugs, “But deep down I think all three of you know that there’s more similarities present than you’d like to account for.”

You huff in response and cross your arms. Is she right? Does Draco have a type?

Even worse, are you just Draco’s type? Nothing more and nothing less than just another girl who ticks all of his favourite boxes?

I know you get déjà  vu I know you get déjà  vu I know you get déjà vu

It’s on one morning, on one of your good mornings, that it happens.

Months of watching the two of them recreate the love that you’d had with him, suffering in silence and scolding yourself for thinking such awful things about them, finally come to a halt when you receive the acknowledgment that you’ve been so desperately craving.

She walks onto platform 9 and 3/4 in a dress, a purple dress that looks eerily similar to the one you’d worn two years before on this exact platform. She’s smiling brightly, excited for the new school year, and Draco’s waiting for her by the door with a smile that’s just as bright. When his eyes catch her own and she slips her hand into his, he stumbles backward in shock slightly. He immediately looks away from her and searches the crowd, scanning over people climbing into the train and saying goodbye to their families, in a desperate attempt to find you.

It’s too much for him, to see her standing before him and looking like a replica of you, and he needs some sort confirmation to know that he’s not imagining this similarity. The dress wraps around her waist the same way that yours had wrapped around your own waist, and it compliments her skin in a way that’s hauntingly memorable. He knows that he’s seen all of this before, and he knows that it wasn’t with her.

You’re standing a few paces away from the door, watching the scene unfold, and when his ocean blues finally meet yours, you know.

He smiles at you, the first time he’s done so since you broke up, and mouthes exactly what the two of you need to hear.

“Déjà vu.”

And then it’s over- the moment, the agony, the months of confusion- it’s all packed up into a neat box and stored away. He turns with her and they walk into the train together, happily.

You remember this, being the one in her position and walking by his side. You remember the feeling of utter joy that had consumed you, it’s all the same really.

But maybe this time when he promises forever, he’ll mean it.

~~~

This was meant to be way angstier but I got lazy and ended up just wanting to write it out before I ran out of love for the idea.

Anyway, I kind of like it...

love you all,

jean <3

[sunarindior]

deja vu.

sypnosis: Jean was never the guy to reuse old habits he had with his ex. But that changed when he started dating Mikasa after him and Y/N broke up. He started reusing the habits and places he does and would go to when he was with Y/N. He thought, maybe he still loves her. However, the feelings aren’t mutual anymore. Y/N already moved on but when she knew about what Jean has been doing, she has one question for him.

Do you get deja vu when she’s with you?

Pairing: Jean Kirstein X Fem! Reader, Jean Kirstein X Mikasa Akermann, slight! Porco X Reader, mention of Ymir X Historia

warnings: angst, modern au!, one or two curse words, author/third POV, proofread once by me!

a/n: aaah! finally, I have published this one-shot, deja vu by Olivia Rodrigo has been stuck in my mind. And I thought why not make a oneshot with her song. little disclaimer! Mikasa and Y/N do not know each other or anything but both have mutual friends (Ymir & Historia)!

italicized female pronouns are talking about Y/N!

italicized bold are memories!

word count: 1.2k words

taglist: @chxrcxal

Car rides to Malibu

Strawberry ice cream, one spoon for two

Jean has been noticing something he has been doing with Mikasa. He loves her, more than anything. But does he really?

Every month, he and Mikasa drove to Malibu, just to buy strawberry ice cream and look at the sunset together.

Like what he does with her.

And tradin' jackets

Laughin' 'bout how small it looks on you

They would exchange jackets whenever both of them are bored. And Mikasa would laugh at Jean how small her jacket would look when he tries it on.

Like how she laughs at him whenever they do it too.

Watching reruns of Glee

Bein' annoying, singin' in harmony

Jean loves Glee, to the point that he and Mikasa would rewatch reruns of it every Friday and Saturday night.

Mikasa wouldn’t remind him every day that they would watch reruns, unlike her, she always reminds Jean that they would watch their favorite series together.

I bet she's braggin'

To all her friends, sayin' you're so unique

Mikasa would brag to her friend, Historia of how unique Jean is. On how amazing he comes up with dates and places they would go to.

Historia is Ymir’s girlfriend, and Ymir is her bestfriend.

Ymir would tell her what Jean does. Not that she cares about what he does. It’s just that he does things he used to do with her.

So when you gonna tell her that we did that, too?

She thinks it's special, but it's all reused

When she found out about this, she was out on a date with Porco, who she loves dearly and who loves her with the exact amount she does, or even more.

And one question was stuck in her mind for Jean.

Do you get deja vu when she’s with you?

That was our place, I found it first

I made the jokes you tell to her when she's with you

She would’ve never thought that Jean would reuse their old habits and places. He could’ve at least changed it up a bit and not to the point that everything is the same as what they used to do.

Do you get deja vu when she's with you?

Do you get deja vu? Ah, hmm

Do you get deja vu, huh?

Jean also notices this after four months of dating Mikasa. He notices that the things he does with Mikasa are the same as what he used to do with Y/N.

“Jean say ah!” said Mikasa who was sitting at the hood of his car with Jean and pointing the spoon to Jean

“Say aaah!” Y/N said while moving the spoon to Jean

“Jean? You there?” Mikasa asked and waved her free hand in front of Jean

“Huh? yeah. Sorry I was thinking of something”

Do you call her, almost say my name?

'Cause let's be honest, we kinda do sound the same

“Y/- Mikasa! say ah!” Jean almost slipped up, good thing that he stopped himself immediately.

“Aaah!” Mikasa opened her mouth and ate the ice cream Jean gave her.

Another actress

I hate to think that I was just your type

“Jean, what do you like about me?” Mikasa asked him while laying down the hood of his car and looked at him

“Jean!” Y/N happily called her lover and asked, “what do you like about me?” while looking at Jean’s eye with admiration

“Because you’re my type!”

“Because you’re my type ‘Kasa” He replied while smiling and stroking her cheek with his thumb

And I bet that she knows Billy Joel

'Cause you played her "Uptown Girl"

“Hey ‘Kasa, come here. I’ll play you my favorite song to play on the piano, “Uptown Girl” by Billy Joel” Jean said and made Mikasa sit beside him on the piano bench.

“Come here Jean! I’ll teach you one of my favorite songs!” Y/N held Jean’s hand and lead him to the piano at the university’s music room

“This is “Uptown Girl” by Billy Joel” she explained and patted the piano bench

You're singin' it together

Now I bet you even tell her how you love her

In between the chorus and the verse (I love you)

“Mikasa,” Jean suddenly called the person beside him while not taking his eyes off the piano keys “Yeah?” Mikasa looked at him

“I love you” He said and suddenly looked at her eyes as he plays through the chorus.

“Y/N” Jean suddenly called her while she plays the piano keys, she only answered him with a gentle hum. “I love you” he said while he looks at her full of love and while she plays through the chorus.

So when you gonna tell her that we did that, too?

She thinks it's special, but it's all reused

“Come on babe! Let’s drive to Malibu! I know a good place there that sells ice cream”

“Babe! How ‘bout we go to Malibu?” Y/n suddenly asked looking up at him while they cuddle.

“Hm? Suddenly?” Jean replied and looked at her

“I know a good ice cream place there! I promise you, it's worth it”

That was the show we talked about

Played you the song she's singing now when she's with you

“Babe? It's Friday, let’s watch Glee?” Mikasa asked as she cuddles up Jean

“Babe! Tomorrow’s already Friday! Let’s ready Glee already!” Y/N happily said while sitting on Jean’s lap

“What got you so excited? It’s not even Friday morning yet.”

“It's your favorite, of course, i’ll get excited”

Do you get deja vu when she's with you?

Do you get deja vu? (Oh-oh)

Do you get deja vu?

Every time Jean’s with Mikasa, he can’t help but get deja vu. Especially at moments, he used to do with Y/N.

And he can’t help but think,

Do I still love her?

Strawberry ice cream in Malibu

Don't act like we didn't do that shit, too

Now that he notices that he gets deja vus, he can’t help but think about Y/N.

He would always have flashbacks of the things he used to do with Y/N when he does it with Mikasa.

You're tradin' jackets like we used to do

(Yeah, everything is all reused)

Jean thought he never loved someone like how he loves Mikasa. But he was wrong.

He never loved someone like how he loves Y/N

Play her piano, but she doesn't know

That I was the one who taught you Billy Joel

A different girl now, but there's nothing new

He was planning to talk to Y/N, to ask her back.

But he suddenly stopped.

When he saw something he thought he wouldn’t expect.

I know you get deja vu

I know you get deja vu

He saw Y/N the person who he thought he doesn’t love anymore, laughing happily with her new boyfriend.

Her shoulder to cry on, the one who was with her when they broke up, and the reason why Jean had a big bruise on his right cheek for a week or two.

She was smiling so much, like how she would smile at Jean.

Jean suddenly got deja vu when he saw her hugging Porco while moving side to side, as if their dancing with music.

And suddenly Jean finally noticed it, he always gets deja vu when he’s with Mikasa.

I know you get deja vu

fin.

a/n: so how was it? I hope you guys liked it! Send me an ask for your comments regarding this oneshot! <3

© SUNARINDIOR

[dontwakeme-causeimdreaming]

Evermore thoughts:

1. Willow

-already off to a chill vibe

-not sure if it’s a love triangle or her and Joe

-“come back stronger than a 90s trend” love it

-the beat almost gives me invisible string vibes

2. Champagne problems

-been waiting for this one all day

-immediately love it

-it sounds like her old stuff but is also so original and new

-dom perignon? Subtle brag

-dorm? This can’t be about her life

-idk why the bridge is reminding me of this is me trying though

-the ending note is so good

3. Gold rush

-immediately a vibe

-poppy than her others, but then again so was TLGAD which was also track 3

-immediately getting the “drinking on the beach with friends and sparklers during the summer and taking pictures with a vintage camera” vibe

4. ‘Tis the damn season

-ok so this is NOT a Christmas song

-as someone who just ended a hometown hookup relationship this song is now my new anthem

-also I just moved across the country so that’s fitting too

-“call me babe got the weekend” “it always leads to you in my hometown”

-I feel attacked

-but in a good way

5. Tolerate it

-is this also about Scott and scooter?

-“so much older and wiser” “use my best colors for your portrait” idk kinda getting my tears ricochet vibes but that could just be what I’m expecting

-leaning against Scott and Scooter the more I hear

-definitely an abusive relationship of some kind though

6. No body, no crime

-without even hearing the song, I’m reminded of the tik tok theory that Haylor committed vehicular manslaughter and have been leaving clues in their songs

-Haim is also friends with Harry so 👀

-hearing the song gives me Before He Cheats vibes though

-“I think he did it but I just can’t prove it” probably not that deep but I’m getting r*pe culture and me too movement vibes

-love the country roots

7. Happiness

-before I listen, I hope this is a marriage proposal announcement song

-ok def not marriage

-kinda peace vibes though (not the feeling the song ofc)

-but this is like the opposite of peace just the slowness gives me peace vibes

-like kinda a good message to remember in break ups that happiness is still possible bc you were happy before the person and can be happy without them too

-“green light of forgiveness” is that a Gatsby reference? Bc Gatsby is hoping the green light will be a big sign to Daisy but she still moves away anyway

8. Dorothea

-I heard the theory that Dorothea is the name of Zigi’s baby i vibe with that it’s a cute song

-don’t really have many comments on this one

-it’s cute but it gives me Hey Stephen vibes in a way and Hey Stephen isn’t my fav

9. Coney Island

-I’ve never heard anything by the National but I’m excited

-another reference to the mall... she did say in the Long Pond Studio Sessions that she was really excited to sing about the mall in August

-initially it’s not my favorite but I think I just need to listen to it again bc I do like the vibe

10. Ivy

-is this why there was ivy in her Insta from last week?

-“my pain fits in the palm of your frozen hand” omg I love that

-the lyrics in this are so beautiful and are almost reminiscent of Cold As You which is lyrically one of my favs (“roots in my dreamland” is like a grown up Cold As You)

-I love hearing Taylor swear

-overall love it

11. Cowboy like me

-this is another one I’ve been waiting for all day long

-love that this is explicit too

-my first thought seeing the name was Closest to a Cowboy her unreleased song from forever ago

-the background music at the beginning sounds like Tim McGraw

-longer than I was expecting

“You’re a bandit like me” reminds me of the lakes for some reason

12. Long story short

-immediately a vibe

-ok is it just me getting a ton of references to her older music?

-like rabbit hole (wonderland) and spinning in high heels (reminds me of both Mirrorball and Holy Ground)

-maybe this a nod to re-recording?

-I’m very tired I may be mishearing things

-the most poppy so far

-“long story short it was the wrong guy” lmao story of my life what a vibe

“Long story short I survived” this song makes me so happy idek why

13. Marjorie

-Track 13 on folklore was a nod to her grandfather and I think this is a nod to her grandmother this is also track 13

-like Marjorie is her grandmother’s name

-as someone who also regrets not appreciating her grandmother enough, this song resonates with me sm

-like I was only 10 when my grandma died and I didn’t realize what I had until she was gone

-so overall hits home super sad song but very beautiful

-love the idea that our loved ones never really leave us

14. Closure

-loving the tracking on this

-this reminds me of a friend break up

-I really like how her past few albums she talks about doing better (IFTYE, the 1)

-possibly about Karlie?

-idk don’t attack me for that just a thought

15. Evermore

-sounds like winter to me

-I like that one of the recurring themes of this album is moving on and realizing the pain won’t last forever and that happiness can come again

-idk is this about the pandemic? Is this about Emily Dickinson whose birthday was yesterday and uses “evermore” as a closing line to one of her famous poems? Is it about Edgar Poe? Whose to say?

-hot take but I like this better than exile

-is Joe playing the piano in this too like he did in exile?

Overall I really like this album it’s so good and compliments folklore but is still uniquely its own

Taylor has done it again

[depressing-debbie]

Hi I love your blog! Can you do the fluff alphabet for Mikasa?? 🏳‍🌈

YES I love Mikasa <3

Sorry these take forever because they are a COMMITMENT to sit down and write, but they’re also so fun!!

Fluff Alphabet: Mikasa

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

She honestly just wants to be with them, but on special date nights, she would love to go to the park for a walk or maybe an art gallery. Probably her favorite activity with her SO is stargazing, just the two of them curled up on a blanket admiring the sky, it’s so intimate.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

She is absolutely enchanted by her SO. She loves the way they blush just slightly when they smile, the way they dance to their music when they think nobody’s watching. She memorized all of their tiny unique mannerisms because they’re just so charming. Everything about them is so stunning.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

She’s not great with her words, but she has such a determination to comfort them. If they were having a panic attack, she’d make sure to get them somewhere quiet and calm. She’d offer to just wrap them up in her arms, or to sit quietly with them. If they were just having a bad day or feeling down, she would clear her schedule so she didn’t have to leave their side all day. She’d lay their head in her lap, running her hands through their hair, and either letting them vent, or talking to distract them. She hates seeing them upset, and her protective instincts kick in instantly.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

She doesn’t think about the future. Since she was little, she’s had to live in the moment and think on her feet, so she never really lets herself start to make plans. But, once she started getting serious with her SO, she probably let herself have just a little bit of faith in the future. I don’t think she fantasizes about the typical domestic life, but she does love the idea of stability. In general, she just wants more time with her SO.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Equal, leaning towards Mikasa being a bit more dominant. She tends to fall into the role of protector for her SO, literal or figurative, but there’s obviously nothing definite. She needs to be protected sometimes, too.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

She doesn’t fight over petty things and serious fights don’t happen often, but when they do, it can be pretty rough. She doesn’t yell or anything, in fact, she gets very quiet, and it’s obvious that her feelings are hurt whenever they fight. She’s good at finding compromises, though, because she really hates fighting. Her goal is never to hurt her SO back, even if they said something that accidentally hurt her, because she hates making them upset.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

This baby is sooo grateful! She’s so used to being the one supporting other people, so each time her SO goes out of their way to show their affection or do something for her, she is so ridiculously honored and touched. She considers herself so lucky to have them in her life, and even though it’s awkward, she voices it as much as she can.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

She would never hide anything from her SO that involves them or could hurt them. For the most part, she’s an open book. But there’s obviously a lot in her life that she would have reason to suppress and not talk about, in addition to the fact that she has trouble voicing her feelings. Even still, I think she would make an effort to talk about her past in the name of total transparency in the relationship.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

I think they inspire each other. She’s such a calming presence, so I think her SO, especially if they’re a pretty anxious person, might become a bit more relaxed around her. On the other hand, Mikasa is absolutely inspired by them every day. She allows herself to depend on them and open up to them, even having some hope for the future. I know it sounds cheesy, but they genuinely remind her that there is so much happiness in the world.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

For the most part, she’s not a jealous person. But, she’s human, so of course she gets jealous once in a while. She trusts her SO without a doubt, but it makes her uncomfortable when she can tell someone is flirting with them. If it makes them uncomfortable as well, she’s scaring that person off instantly. When she does get jealous, she probably just goes to her SO for a hug and a quick reminder that she’s more than enough for them. It’s never caused a fight or anything.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Their first was just a small, soft little kiss early in the morning, and I think they probably kept that tradition of tiny kisses. Mikasa isn’t an overly affectionate person, but she expresses a lot with just a little kiss, maybe even on their forehead. It may not be what people would consider “passionate” but there’s still so much behind it.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

She probably thought about it for a bit, but she had no idea she was going to confess when she did. They were absolutely stargazing in the park, and she looked over and thought about just how amazing her SO is, so it just came out. She wasn’t even really embarrassed afterwards; if anything, she was overwhelmed by how easily she had said it. And it’s not something that she throws around all the time after that, especially because she has trouble with vulnerability. Every time she says she loves them, she means it.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

She doesn’t really fantasize about getting married like some people do, but it’s not something she would be opposed to. Personally, she feels secure in her relationship no matter what, and she doesn’t need a document to tell her that she’s in love. But if it would hold meaning to her SO, she’s all over it. She would plan a quietly romantic proposal in private, probably somewhere significant to their relationship. Their wedding would be pretty small, just between themselves and close friends and family, celebrating their love. It would be beautifully planned, too.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

She probably uses “love” sometimes, but for the most part, she uses their name. It just sounds so nice, and it’s a little added connection between the two of them.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

She’s not obvious at all when she’s in love, except to her SO. Anybody else she interacts with, even the closest family and friends, wouldn’t notice a thing. But her SO can absolutely see the way she stares at them with a quiet smile, thinking they don’t see it. And they notice the way she always needs some form of contact with them, whether it’s holding their hand or pressing next to them while sitting together. She does make an effort to express her feelings as much as she can, even if she has trouble being vulnerable.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

She’s very private with her relationship. The most PDA anyone will see is her holding their hand underneath the table, or slowly sliding closer to them until their knees are pressed together. She also doesn’t really talk about it much. The people close to her absolutely know about the relationship, but she’s not one to brag; she just wants to keep the best parts of their relationship between the two of them.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that's beneficial in a relationship.

She’s incredibly motivated. Sounds like it would be overwhelming for her SO, right?? Wrong. She channels that motivation into helping them, especially if they struggle with mental health and are somewhat unmotivated because of it. She’s that one person who volunteers to help clean someone’s depression room, and she’s her SO’s best support when they need to get something done. She loves being able to lift just a little bit of their stress by lending a hand.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

She’s incredibly romantic! She loves finding little ways to make her SO smile and express how much she cares about them, so she’s definitely more creative. But, she also probably allows herself to indulge in some cliches once in a while because it’s something she never foresaw herself getting to do.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

She’s their biggest cheerleader! She absolutely believes in her SO to no end, and she’d do whatever she can to help them reach their goals. She’s honestly inspired by their determination, and she knows that they have the ability to do anything they put their mind to.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Probably a mix of both. She loves getting to experience new things with her SO, especially if it’s something they’re interested in. But for the most part, she feels so comfortable and safe in a routine, and she loves having something she can depend on to be the same. Besides, their routines are likely much more intimate than any new activity, and she adores getting to spend time with them like that.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

She’s practically a mind reader. It’s really just because she observed her SO at the start of their relationship, their mannerisms and reactions and opinions, and she took note of them all. Now, she can tell instantly what is going through their mind or how they are feeling, and she empathizes strongly, even if it’s not something she’s experienced.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

Their relationship is so important to her. Since they became serious, she’s slowly allowed herself to open up and rely on them, trusting that they will be there for her, so I think it would be hard for her to lose that. But more than anything, she just wants them to be happy, whatever that means.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon

She tried to learn to cook for her SO as a surprise for their birthday. So she printed out recipes and bought the ingredients for their favorite foods, and before they were even awake, she started cooking. It didn’t turn out great, but they could tell she was so proud, and it was adorable. She probably had to try not to gag after the first bite, so if her SO ate any of it, she would be absolutely touched.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

She’s not honestly an overly affectionate person, partially because she has trouble letting herself be vulnerable. She just expresses her love in different ways. But, especially if one of them had a bad day or if she’s tired, she will be very affectionate. She absolutely loves when her SO runs a hand through her hair as they lay together, and she feels so safe with her head in their lap as they trace little circles over her cheek. She also loves getting to wrap them up in her arms, their head pressed into her chest as if she can physically channel her emotions and love to them.

Y earning - How will they cope when they're missing their partner?

She’s definitely not a yearning type. She misses them, absolutely, but she also loves how independent and bold they are, and it makes her happy to see them out chasing life experiences they’re passionate about. She would probably check in on them each day they are gone, though, just to make sure they’re alright and to hear their voice. Otherwise, she just continues to go about her routine, and logs anything funny into her memory to share when they return.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Absolutely. She’s invested in the relationship, especially because she’s not someone to take relationships lightly. If there is anything she can do to make their connection stronger and healthier, or to make her SO happier, she would do it!

[amigosmercedes]

Deja Vu vs Cruel Summer = Olivia Rodrigo vs Taylor Swift

I have not listening both Deja Vu and Cruel Summer. But, I will.

Why? I am mid 30s closet lesbian bisexual that has many things to do. I do not want investing my time and feeling for something that I might be don't like. Likewise, I am neither of Taylor Swift fans or Olivia Rodrigo fans. I write on this Tumblr because I am annoying with Taylor Swift antics with her queer bait, grammygate, and also I have little crush to Dianna Agron.

The only song from Olivia Rodrigo that I have had listening is the hits Driver License. My take about Drive License, it's like Lana Del Ray songs. But more catchy and power.

(Frankly to say Lana Del Ray is bad performers. Lana better be just write songs. Lana has plenty potential as songwriter than performers)

So, I am commenting based on some article and wikipedia

In the wikipedia the Deja Vu songs was credited as

Songwriter(s)

Olivia Rodrigo

Dan Nigro

Taylor Swift

Jack Antonoff

St. Vincent

Cruel Summer

Song by Taylor Swift

Lyrics

Fever dream high in the quiet of the night You know that I caught it Bad, bad boy Shiny toy with a price You know that I bought it

Killing me slow, out the window I'm always waiting for you to be waiting below Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes What doesn't kill me makes me want you more

And it's new, the shape of your body It's blue, the feeling I've got And it's ooh, whoa, oh It's a cruel summer It's cool, that's what I tell 'em No rules in breakable heaven But ooh, whoa oh It's a cruel summer With you

Hang your head low In the glow of the vending machine I'm not dying You say that we'll just screw it up in these trying times We're not trying

So cut the headlights, summer's a knife I'm always waiting for you just to cut to the bone Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes And if I bleed, you'll be the last to know

Oh, it's new, the shape of your body It's blue, the feeling I've got And it's ooh, whoa, oh It's a cruel summer It's cool, that's what I tell 'em No rules in breakable heaven But ooh, whoa, oh It's a cruel summer With you

I'm drunk in the back of the car And I cried like a baby coming home from the bar (oh) Said, "I'm fine, " but it wasn't true I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you And I snuck in through the garden gate Every night that summer just to seal my fate (oh) And I screamed for whatever it's worth "I love you, " ain't that the worst thing you ever heard? He looks up grinning like a devil

It's new, the shape of your body It's blue, the feeling I've got And it's ooh, whoa, oh It's a cruel summer It's cool, that's what I tell 'em No rules, in breakable heaven But ooh, whoa, oh It's a cruel summer With you

I'm drunk in the back of the car And I cried like a baby coming home from the bar (h) Said, "I'm fine, " but it wasn't true I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you And I snuck in through the garden gate Every night that summer just to seal my fate (oh) And I screamed for whatever it's worth "I love you, " ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?

deja vu

by Olivia Rodrigo

Car rides to Malibu Strawberry ice cream One spoon for two And trading jackets Laughing 'bout how small it looks on you (Ha-ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha-ha)

Watching reruns of Glee ==> Gaylor Swift Universe, Glee is always about Dianna, thou

Being annoying Singing in harmony I bet she's bragging To all her friends, saying you're so unique, hmm

So when you gonna tell her That we did that, too? She thinks it's special But it's all reused That was our place, I found it first I made the jokes you tell to her when she's with you

Do you get déjà vu when she's with you? Do you get déjà vu? (Ah), hmm Do you get déjà vu, huh?

Do you call her Almost say my name? 'Cause let's be honest We kinda do sound the same Another actress I hate to think that I was just your type

I'll bet that she knows Billy Joel 'Cause you played her "Uptown Girl" You're singing it together Now I bet you even tell her How you love her In between the chorus and the verse (ooh) (I love you)

So when you gonna tell her That we did that, too? She thinks it's special But it's all reused That was the show we talked about Played you the song she's singing now when she's with you

Do you get déjà vu when she's with you? Do you get déjà vu? Oh Do you get déjà vu?

Strawberry ice cream in Malibu Don't act like we didn't do that shit, too You're trading jackets like we used to do (Yeah, everything is all reused) Play her piano, but she doesn't know (oh, oh) That I was the one who taught you Billy Joel (oh) A different girl now, but there's nothing new (I know you get déjà vu)

Here my take as the outsider that has logical minds.

Olivia does not need to give songwriter credit to Taylor Swift and co (Jack Antonoff, St Vincent)

Taylor Swift and co do not entitle to anything Olivia wrote if the songs that Olivia wrote were totally different in every aspect from the lyrics and the way it performed like rhyme, chorus, and musical renditions.

Why?

Clearly Olivia wrote the lyrics differently, and I bet the rendition and way the songs performed also not the same.

You do not need to give credit for inspiration for anything's you create that 100% different from the product that you get inspired.

Ed Sheeran won a U.K. High Court copyright lawsuit over his 2017 hit song Shape of You. Judge ruled Ed, 31, had not plagiarized the work of another British performer, Sami Chokri, who accused Sheeran of stealing the melody from his 2015 song Oh Why. Yet, when you are listening the Reff part clearly like Oh Why Oh Why Oh Why and the way it sang almost identical, compare to Shake It Off songs. Then, if you go back to Deja Vu vs Cruel Summer, these two songs are not identical. Olivia do not need give credit for Taylor co for the songwriter.

(Even though, we know in Gaylor Swift Universe, Glee is always about Dianna. As jealous much Taylor listening her favorite muse entangle in another people songs. There is no bases for song writer credit. LOL. I am joking on this one.)

If Taylor and co insist on getting credit for Olivia songs, then Taylor obligate to admit that she is wrong about Shake It Off songs. Since the lyrics of her song clearly the same as song called “Playas Gon’ Play” by the group 3LW.

Also, if Taylor and co insist on getting credit for Olivia songs, then Taylor obligate to give credit to Dianna Agron. Taylor wrote bunch of songs that inspired from Dianna antics, characters, hobbies, behaviors.

[cabinofimagines]

Reyna’s ABCs

A/N: Guys I’m so in love with Reyna -Danny

Request: Hey! Can I request an ABC list for Reyna? Idk if they're only for the 7 and if so, sorry for wasting your time. Have a great day! // Can you please do Reyna ABC’s? I can never find Reyna content // Reyna ABC’s please?

Words: 1,370

Activities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

I see Reyna as the kind of gal who would spoil you. Just name it. Whatever it is you wanna do she’s in, she’s got you, food? Movies? Don’t worry babe she already has five places on her list that she’s sure you’ll love

Beauty - What do they admire in their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

She really likes your eyes and it’s going to sound kinda cheesy but she’s also a big fan of you’re personality and sense of humor, she just can’t get enough of you  

Comfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

She’s a natural leader, therefore, she knows exactly what to do to get you back on your feet, she’s learnt to read you like a pro and know exactly the kind of stuff that will keep you going. She might even use a bit of her power to give you the strenght to finish your day and then cuddle with you for the rest of the night.

Dreams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

She sees a house on some place warm, probably a bunch of dogs, a life when you two can relish on being together and have nothing to worry about or feel ashamed of, she sees a quiet life, where you are her favourite constant.

Equal - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Oh man, oh shit, Reyna tends to be controlling even without trying, it’s just the power she carries in her, you know? She definitely is the dominant one, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t melt at the sight of you.

Fight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

It’s hard for her to stop being angry, sometimes turns brutally cold and distant, but she always apologizes properly, or if it’s you who messed up, she always treats you gently afterwards so you know she still loves you

Gratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Reyna’s had a rough life, she might get distracted in the heat of the moment but at the end of the day she’s always there kissing you good night and reminding you how special you are in her life. She never stops trying.

Honesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

When it comes to her “normal” life Reyna is an open book after a while of dating you, however, I think she prefers to keep her work to herself and forget about it while she’s with you.

Inspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

She’s a bit more chill after knowing you, she doesn’t feel as pressured as before to be perfect and that’s a huge relief to her. You’ve changed too, became a bit more daring and just a tad sporty, but really, Reyna is better with the whole “healthy stuff” 

Jealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Nah man, perhaps during the whole ‘are we flirting, do they like me?’ part she was jealous of random people approaching you and making you laugh, but once you start dating she knows she’s got you and no one can change that. (Unless you decide otherwise, ofc) 

Kiss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

REYNA IS SUCH A GOOD KISSER OMG I BEG YOU MA’AM JUST ONE SMOOCH WOULD BE ENOUGH

Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

Probably came out stiff and awkward but she asked you out in one try. Her shoulders relaxed instantly the moment you smiled and said yes. She was so scared but won’t admit it lmao

Memory - What’s their favourite memory together?

Probably the first time you told her you love her. She felt overwhelmed and just couldn’t believe what you said until you repeated like five times. That’s when people started to say her eyes had a new brightness in them.

Nicknames - What do they call their s/o?

“Amor” probably, “sweetheart” when she’s teasing.

On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

No one had a fucking clue she liked you until suddenly you two are dating and everyone was like ??? It’s not like he ever tried to hide it though, it’s more on her actions or words that you can really tell she likes someone.

PDA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Not that she’s shy, she just doesn’t like others around when she’s being all cute with her partner. She likes to have privacy, feels that way it feels more special when she gets to kiss you.

Quirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

Reyna CAN DANCE. She’s latina, she was born with them good steps. Definitely made you fall for her during a night out dancing in the middle of the street. 

Romance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

I think she’s the kind to be ‘I worship you’ about her s/o, treats you like a unique treasure and at the same time it’s like she’s just hanging out with her best friend. Funny combination but it works perfectly.

Support - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

She’s a ride or die. Will judge you a bit if your decisions feel a tad impulsive or not like something you would do on a normal day. Probably will interrogate you as to why you decide to do something that feels too rash. However, if you manage to prove you’re not crazy lmao, she’s 100% there to support you.

Thrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice up your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

I feel like we’re answering this the same way with everyone but tbh that’s demigods for you lmao they really just want a break. Maybe she likes to plan a few trips from time to time just to take you to meet places, but most of the year is spent in a comfortable, calming routine.

Understanding - How well do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Feelings are a tricky thing for her, but she’s memorized every little thing about you, so all she has to do is ask “how are you feeling?” and “can i help you?” and she’ll know how to procceed right after you give her an answer. But communication is key, Reyna isn’t a mind reader and she will need you to help her a bit.

Value - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

Very important. You’re her family now.

Wild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Reyna’s favourite thing to do when she’s feeling down is lay her head on your lap and let you braid her hair while watching shitty actions movies.

XOXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

I’d say she likes it a healthy amount, but not very affectionate in public unless you ask for it.

Yearning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

She pours herself in her wrk and tries not to get too worry, you can take care of yourself and she’ll see you soon, that’s her mantra.

Zeal - are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

She’s prepared to do sacrificies, but definitely not the kind who would throw away everything just to keep you happy, her opinion is that a healthy relationship should meet half-way.

Taglist:   @beneaththeiceandsnow​  @bandshirts-andbooks​ @smileitsisa 

[alittlextrathatway]

So, I’ve changed tactics on a multichap I started and because of that, this intro to the first chapter is now defunct. Instead of letting it get dusty in my google docs I thought I would share the non-spoilery bits. Enjoy!

******

Severide knows why he’s up early. He has to be.

A day of fishing that starts late is a waste of time.

Boden can’t come to the bachelor party mostly as a result of the extremely thin professional and personal boundary he tries to maintain between himself and 51. Instead he offered to take the day off and go fishing with Kelly on his boat.

It’s a compromise Kelly can definitely live with.

What he didn’t expect when he woke up that morning was to find Sylvie Brett leaning against his kitchen island with a cup of coffee in her hands.

He stops and blinks tiredly at her. “What time is it?” He asks her.

“Five, why?” She says through a yawn.

“Just making sure I hadn’t missed my alarm. Last time you slept over no one saw you before lunchtime — and by you I mean you and Matt.”

She blushes but grins without shame. “I have somewhere to be today and Matt has shift so an early start it is.”

He walks around the island and gently hip checks her, playfully making room for himself in front of the coffee maker. “You’re off today too?”

She nods and bounces on her feet as a beaming smile spreads over her lips. In these moments, he remembers Sylvie when she was green and earnest, getting to know everyone at 51 for the very first time. She hasn’t changed too much, thank god. Not in any detrimental way at least. He’s watched from the sidelines for years as she became better and stronger — a leader the CFD could be proud of. He was in her orbit a lot in those early days but as life became busier that fell away and now that she’s dating Matt he finds himself growing close to her again.

He regrets ever letting them drift apart. He’s ashamed to say that he forgot how much fun she could be.

“I’m babysitting Amelia today,” she tells him. “Scott has a last minute all day work thing and his nanny is out of town so it’s Big Sister Sylvie to the rescue.”

“As opposed to every day Sylvie who never saves lives,” he teases dryly.

She rolls her eyes with a chuckle. “Right. Anyway, I still have to go back to my place and pack before I can hit the road.”

“Casey isn’t insisting on driving you?” Severide asks her with a knowing smirk. Every time Brett makes the trip out to Rockford, Matt makes sure to go with her. Casey would never admit it outloud, but Sylvie’s little sister has him wrapped around her tiny little finger. So does Sylvie Brett, but that’s beside the point at the moment.

She laughs lightly and shakes her head. “He tried, but I told him the house couldn’t afford to be missing both the PIC and the Captain at the last minute. Not with Boden no longer at 51 anyway. That seemed to convince him.”

“It would,” Kelly replies, laughing with her. “We’re all suckers for 51 and any of the people in it.”

There’s a shuffling sound from the other end of the room and they both look up just in time to see Matt walk into the living room.

“Are you leaving already?” He asks Sylvie as he joins them in the kitchen.

She nods and hands him her half finished coffee. “I need to be at Scott’s early so he can leave for work and I still have to pack.” Her arms go around his neck, she leans into his chest, and places a lingering kiss on his lips. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to leave without a proper goodbye. I promise.”

Matt’s arm circles her waist and pulls her flush against him, with their shared coffee in his free hand. “I’d hope not. We’d have to have a serious talk if you did.”

“You two are gross,” Severide declares with a teasing grimace. “Too new, too cute. Take it back to your room, Case.”

“You’re one to talk,” Matt fires back with a wide grin. “You and Kidd are equally disgusting.” He takes a sip of the coffee and then winces, turning to Sylvie with a mock accusatory glare. “How much sugar did you put in this?”

“Less than I normally do,” she replies, poking his side playfully. “Do you have something to say about it?”

Casey yelps and squirms away from her with a laugh. “No, babe. Not a single complaint. I’m fine with drinking mostly sugar and cream.”

Sylvie chuckles and pokes him again. “God, you’re a jerk.”

As much as Kelly teases them, he doesn’t actually find them disgusting. If he’s truthful, he’s ecstatic for Casey. And for Brett too. They’re two of the best people he knows and they’ve both had a lot of bad luck over the last few years. He’s relieved to see them happy and joyful. Casey may think he and Stella have a unique connection, but Casey and Brett have one too. One grown from friendship and mutual respect. It’s a stronger foundation than Severide had with Kidd when they started. He has a feeling his best friend has finally found his forever person and he anticipates things will move faster than either of them are willing to admit right now.

When Matt commits, he commits. It won’t take them long to take the next step. Whatever that looks like for them.

Sylvie takes her coffee back for another gulping sip and then sets it on the counter. “I should head out.”

Matt leans down to kiss her quickly and casually. “Be careful. Call me before you actually get on the road, yeah?”

“Of course,” she assures him as she runs a soft caress over his cheek. “I’ll call you when I leave for Rockford and when I get to Scott’s. I promise.” She grabs her duffle from where it sits by the door and slings the strap over her shoulder. “Have fun on your day off, Severide!”

“And you enjoy that little sister of yours!”

“You know I will!”

Matt walks her out of the loft with one hand on the small of her back and a besotted grin on his face. Severide chuckles softly and shakes his head.

As long as he’s known Matt, he’s never seen him so gone on anyone. He’s glad Casey and Brett worked it out. They deserve someone who reciprocates their feelings unconditionally.

******

Since Kelly and Sylvie are off, Matt offers to drive Stella to work in his truck. Carpooling saves her gas and mileage so she quickly agrees.

Severide is already gone by the time she wakes up. Fishing with Boden is serious business. She knows better than to keep him from it or delay him from leaving precisely when he means to.

On the way to the Firehouse, Matt’s phone rings from the phone mount on his dash. At the sight of Sylvie’s name he eagerly hits speaker.

“Hey,” he greets.

Stella grins at his chipper tone. It took them a while but she’s grateful her two best friends got their act together finally.

“Hey!”

“Stella’s with me. We’re on our way to work.”

“Oh! Hey, Stella!”

“Hey, Brett! How’s it going?”

“Good! Just stopping for a sugary treat before I hit the road.”

“Bear claw from The Doughnut Vault?” Matt asks knowingly.

“Of course! What else?”

He rolls his eyes with fond frustration. “That’s hardly breakfast.”

“I’ll make sure to eat some real food once I’m at Scott’s,” she promises. “I’m about to head that way now. Should be there in a couple of hours at most.”

“Good,” Matt agrees. “And don’t get so caught up in Mia that you forget to call me when you get there, okay?”

She laughs and the sound is bright. Brighter than anyone’s laugh should be before 8 in the morning, Stella thinks.

“I’ll do my absolute best not to forget. Believe me. I need to get on the road though so I should get off of here.”

“Okay, drive safe. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

“Bye, Brett! Give that baby a good squeeze for me!” Stella chimes in.

“I will! Have a safe shift, both of you.”

“I’ll try and keep the Captain in line but I make no promises. You know how he is.”

Sylvie laughs again but Stella can hear the genuine nerves underneath it. “I do know. Just make sure he stays in one piece.”

“Now that I think I can do.”

“Okay, okay, enough picking on me. Are you two done?” Matt asks with a dry laugh.

“For now,” Sylvie replies. “Call you when I get there. And then I’ll brag about how I’m getting all the baby cuddles and you’re not getting any of them.”

“Damn, Brett,” Stella says with a chuckle. “That’s cold!”

“I try to tell people how mean she is but no one will believe me,” Matt says, shaking his head and grinning playfully. “Take lots of pictures.”

“That’s a given. Talk to you later. I promise.”

“I’m holding you to that. If you don’t I’ll come looking for you. Don’t think I won’t,” Matt threatens, half seriously.

“Oh, I have no doubt you would. If only for the chance to be a baby hog. See you later!”

“Later,” Matt says just before she disconnects the call.

“You two sound sickeningly happy,” Stella observes, grinning widely.

“That’s what Severide said,” Matt replies with a chuckle. “And, you know what, I think we are. Sylvie is…well, she’s the best thing to happen to me in a very long time. So, if that means I’m disgustingly infatuated with her for the rest of my life then I’m okay with that.”

“It may be disgusting,” Stella concedes. “But it’s a good look for you. For her too. You both deserve someone who gives as much as you do. And there’s no one who gives more than you and Brett.”

Matt glances over at her as he parks his truck with a grateful expression. “Thank you, Kidd. I appreciate that.”

“Hey, I just call it like I see it.”

[travellingarmy]

║Ningguang║Inspiration

From Wattpad.

Gender-neutral.

Fluff.

Word count: 1.9k

---

She looked so beautiful sitting in the midst of those glaze lilies, a smile on her lips and eyes gentle with a soft glow from the sunlight as she looked at the flowers. She plucks a glaze lily and brought it up to her nose, pushing a strand of her long hair behind her ears.

At that moment, it felt as if the rest of the world stopped. Your eyes glimmered and your face dusted with a light pink. To you, she was a goddess under that one beautiful and bright day and hope that you could get to see more of her in the future.

You see, you were a travelling painter and writer who is inspired by anything and everything around you. Travelling all across Teyvat, anybody would thought that you would have already met that eureka moment at its highest peak but no, you didn't- not until your travel to Liyue, that is.

Liyue, like all regions of Teyvat, had a unique style that distinguishes itself from others: the aesthetic of buildings, the aromatic dishes, its culture, yearly festivals-- you name it. It draws many and all sorts of people- either for work or for fun and you were there for the latter.

The bustling of crowds and the bright lights of the city at night have you that peaceful yet lively atmosphere that made you look at everything in awe. There was simply too much things one could write about and many places surrounding Liyue to paint, but none of them really sparked that motivation.

It was only when you took a walk outside of Liyue, that you found your spark. In the field full of glaze lilies, there was a woman, alone, in Liyue esque clothing. She had hair that was white as the snow in Dragonspine and eyes that was the colour of a phoenix and full of love and life. Your heart pounded against your chest like never before. She was alluring.

You took a step closer but the sound of grass bring crumpled upon made her alert and her reaction to the sound was faster than a normal person, like she was a warrior on full alert. "Who are you?" she asks sternly and her soft gaze became sharp as soon as her eyes landed on you.

"Oh, um, sorry to alert you," you started, "I was just passing by when I saw you and um.." You didn't say what you were thinking- her looking beautiful- to save yourself from embarrassment and from the- what would have been- suspicious gaze on you.

"Oh, is that so?" she says and starts to inspect you from head to toe, taking every little details of you. "Hm, it doesn't look like you're from Liyue. Are you an adventurer?"

"Ah, you can say that.." You scratch the back of your head shyly. "I'm travelling across Teyvat for inspiration." The lady hums, bringing her fingers on her chin. "So, I'm assuming you're here for inspiration?" she clarifies herself and you nod. A smile forms on her lips. "Not a lot come by this place as there are many monsters and that there are glaze lilies that can already be found within the city."

She then stood up and turns her full body to you. "Then, I shall be leaving so I can give you the scenery to help inspire you," she says and bows politely, excusing herself from your sight. You watched as her figure disappears from your sight, returning to the city. When you turned around, the scenery before you felt different. It felt sort of lonely and empty without the lady who basked in the sunlight and that spark suddenly died as soon as your eyes landed on it.

You decided to call it a day out in the wilderness and return back to the safety of the city, but not before seeing something glimmer in the midst of flowers under the sun's light. You walked closer and see a jewelry just sitting there and you presumed that it was the lady's so you picked it up, but since she was far gone, you can't hope to catch up to her, so you just hope that you two will meet again.

On the next day, you found Luhua Pool and decided to paint the scenery. It was very beautiful indeed so you sat there and painted away. As you were painting, you couldn't help but let your mind wander to the lady from yesterday.

She was a local which means you would see her somewhere in the city. However, she didn't look like a simple worker of the local stores or restaurants which meant that you can't simply walk into buildings and expect her to be there.

You still remember of the jewelry that you found and rummage your satchel for it. It was kept well inside a small box that you bought not soon after returning to the city. You suddenly pictured the white-haired female, alone, in that field of flowers, looking so beautiful that it took your breath away.

Subconsciously, you picked up a new canvas and paintbrush and spent that day painting the scene from yesterday with the best of your memories. The field itself was pretty, but it was her that made it even more so beautiful than it already was. When you were finished, the sun was already setting in the horizon. You took a step back to look at your work and praised it. It was your favourite and the one where you put so much care and effort into. If only the lady was there to see it.

You packed your belongings inside your satchel and made your way down the mountain you were on. You felt that the sun was setting rather quickly because the moon and a couple of stars were already dusting the now dark sky and you were nowhere near the city.

Not being a vision user, it kind of sucked that you have to fear of hilichurls suddenly appearing before you. The thought alone made you clutch the strap of your satchel and began frantically looking around.

Then- to your dread- you see a bunch of hilichurls in the distance. Some were sleeping while others were awake and on guard; there was even a mitachurl which just made the whole thing much worse than it already is. You can make your way around the camp so that's what you did, not knowing there there was a sleeping hilichurl in the direction you were heading. It woke up and set the alarm for the others as well.

"Oh, for the love of..!" You gripped tightly on your satchel and made a run for it. Through the years of travelling, your legs gotten quite used to long travels, as well as running away from encountered hilichurls. It was something not worth bragging since it's for survival.

You looked back and see that a hilichurl with a fire bat-like weapon sped up than the rest. In a panic, you sprinted faster, but since you weren't looking forward, you didnt see the conveniently placed log.

You tripped over it and ended up scratching your chin from the impact. You turn your body and see that they the samachurls was no more than a metre away, ready to swing its axe. Closing your eyes, you expected for the worst.

When ten seconds passed and the strike didn't come, you open one eye and then both to see some sort of barrier in front of you. "Are you alright?" Upon hearing the voice, you looked over your shoulders and see the white-haired female of whom you just painted of not too long ago.

Not waiting for an answer, she casted little rocks that was strong enough to wipe all of the hilichurls out of sight and returned back to you, kneeling down to inspect your injuries. "You're lucky that I was on my way back to the city and found you," she states. "Archon forbids what might have happened to you if I were not around."

She gets up on her feet again and stretches out a hand for you to grab. "Come on, I'll treat your wounds at my place." You didn't think it through as you hastily accepted the offered hand and followed her back inside the city.

She lead you up a couple of stairs and to your shocking news, up to the Jade Chamber that you had heard so many praises about. "Um, excuse me, but isn't this place off limits for common folks?" you ask, your eyes darting across the place with a mix of uneasiness and excitement. "It is, usually, but since you are injured, I've made an exception."

The words caught you by surprise and stare at the back of the female who rummage through shelves and drawers, looking for the things she needed. "Wait, so, are you Lady Ningguang, the Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing!?" you exclaim. She hums, a small smile tugging her lips. "I see you're well informed of Liyue. Yes, I am and this is my home," she answers. Once she found the thing she wanted- which was a medical kit- she walks to where you were sitting and places the kit on the table beside you.

"This will sting so I apologise beforehand," she said and took out a cotton, dabbing some kind of ointment on it. She gently cups your face with her free hand and tilts it upwards before placing the cotton on the bottom of your chin.

She wasn't lying when it would sting and you hissed at the sudden stinging pain you felt. She apologises again before doing it a couple more times. "There, that should heal up in no time," she says as soon as she pulls away.

You watched her quietly from your seat, mesmerized by the sight of her as she cleans up. "Beautiful." Before you could comprehend what came out from underneath your breath, Ningguang heard it and looks at you with a baffled look. "I beg your pardon?"

You realized what you said and shook your head hastily. "A, ah, did I say that out loud?" you ask, more to yourself. I-it's just that.. Um, I really think you're beautiful, Lady Ningguang and I hope that we could meet more often.." You scratched your cheek, averting your gaze from the Tianquan.

There was a brief awkward silence which made you kinda wish that you hadn't said what you said just a few moments ago. Then, "Thank you," she says. You look up and see her smiling. "I.. I do like the thought of knowing someone outside of working matters."

Your eyes glimmered in happiness that soon reached your lips. "R-really? Then, I'm happy," you said and remembered something the slipped your mind. "Oh, right, I was wondering if it would be alright to ask what you were doing out so late?"

"Oh, I was looking for something that I had dropped yesterday. I had thought I dropped it by the fields.." she answers. You knew what that 'something' is and asked, "Are you perhaps looking for a jewelry?" She looks at you with hope in her eyes. "Do you know where it is?"

You nodded and look through your satchel. "I found it lying on the grass and kept it safe, thinking that it was yours," you say in honest and pulled out the box it was kept in before walking towards her, stretching the box towards her. "I'm glad to have stumbled upon you so that I could return it to you."

Ningguang smiles and accepts the box. "Thank you," she says in a gentle tone. "By the way, I haven't gotten your name, have I?" You shook your head. "My name is (Y/N)," you answered.

"Well, (Y/N), I hope we can become great friends," she says to which you happily nod. "Me too."

---