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nikethestatue · 7 months

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Breed Me

Happy Valentine's Day!

A little one shot of pure smuttiness for all of you to enjoy today. Also, blame @tswaney17 for this! She sent me a video in IG of a pink cookie being decorated with the words 'Breed Me'. She said 'Elriel'. I said 'I have to write this'. So here you are.

This is an Elriel and Nessian smut

(Generally speaking a bonus set in the world of A Match Baked In Heave, but is a standalone)

Fuck.

Fuckety fuck fuck.

She knew it. She just knew it. She knew that she’d forget. And she did. She even forgot to set the reminder not to forget.

Valentine’s Day.

Their first Valentine’s Day together.

The only excuse she managed to come up with was that they’ve been together for almost a year now. They began properly dating right around the last V Day, and therefore, it’s been some time and Nesta was allowed to forget. Or so she told herself. But she was the worst girlfriend ever. She didn’t even have a card for him!

The problem was that Nesta Archeron, barrister extraordinaire, successful, beautiful, admired, and well-put together always, did not possess a romantic bone in her body. Romance just wasn’t how she operated. Nesta liked to go to Michelin starred restaurants, she enjoyed good wines, she adored interesting trips, and she got emotional when walking down the streets of Florence overwhelmed by the sheer beauty and history of the place. But romantic, she was not. At least, not in the sense that people came to expect someone to express their romantic side–chocolates, flowers, jewellery, horrid chocolate lava cakes and even more terrifying public marriage proposals with the ring being dropped to the bottom of a champagne flute. If her boyfriend Cassian ever did that to her, she’d break up with him. Though that wasn’t exactly his style–he’d probably propose on a mountain peak, or looking out at some terrifying squall, or, if she were lucky, at night, on the streets of Florence, when no one was looking and it was the two of them.

But, enough about proposals and romantic gestures.

She’d leave that to her sister Elain. Her other sister, Feyre, had an even less romantic attitude than Nesta, if that was even possible. Feyre was hopeless in the romance department. Good thing her husband Rhysand was romantic enough for the two of them, and then some. If Rhys could gift Feyre the Moon on a string, he would.

That left Elain. The only one who was a romantic at heart, and per Feyre ‘romantic on steroids’ who adored V Day and began prepping for it in advance, the way others prepared for Christmas.

Nesta never enquired about Elain’s Valentine’s Day plans, because she was frankly, a bit scared. Though the Archeron girls were all girls, and close in age, they weren’t the types to discuss their sex lives with each other. They weren’t the types to change clothes in front of one another, and Nesta couldn’t remember when she saw any of her sisters naked. That’s just how they were. And Nesta preferred to keep it that way.

But today, she was desperate. And she was close to Elain’s house.

Unannounced pop-ins weren’t a thing that the sisters did either, but Nesta was always close to Elain and now, she hoped that Elain wouldn’t mind it. Besides, it was only 2 pm. What could Elain possibly be doing?

Just in case, though, Nesta sent a warning text “I am in the neighbourhood. And need to stop by. Are you decent?”

The last part would’ve seemed like an overkill, but it wasn’t. Because Elain, and her husband Azriel, were known to get it on frequently and at any time of day or night. Nesta had to get her eyes bleached by now, considering how many times she either overheard them or walked in on them. Azriel was a damn exhibitionist, who loved semi-public sex, and what’s more, the man’s had some peculiar interests, which made being in their company a veritable minefield of strange sexual encounters. Elain…well, she was in love. She was love-drunk, dick-drunk, and sex-drunk most of the time.

Nesta hurried down the street, before rushing up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. True to Elain’s character, the white columns beneath the awning were decorated with pink, white and red roses. Love was in the air.

Nesta banged on the door and heard ‘it’s open!’

She entered the foyer, toed off her boots and almost ran to the open concept first floor kitchen and sitting room.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” her sister asked, worry etched on her pretty face.

Elain was wearing a pink dress with red flowers and a wide pink headband, which struggled to contain waves of her thick curls. The dress accentuated her growing stomach, which was just beginning to round and pop at 4.5 months. Of course, Elain made the prettiest pregnant woman in the world. Shiny hair, sparkling eyes, clear skin, a wide smile, gorgeous boobs, no weight gain other than in her stomach, and the most perfect pregnancy–no violent sickness, explosive vomiting, sickening cravings or swollen ankles for the middle Archeron sister.

“I am brilliant!” Nesta put on a fake smile. “Just need a few ideas,”

Elain eyed her with a disapproving look and then said,

“You forgot, didn’t you?”

“Ummm, forgot what?” Neta decided to play stupid.

“Don’t play stupid,” her sister snapped. “You forgot about Valentine’s Day and now Cassian doesn’t have a gift, does he?”

Nesta plopped on the stool by the marble bar and announced with pretend excitement,

“No. But that’s where you come in!”

“Oh, is that so?” rolled her eyes and then picked up a pastry bag, and curled over the counter. “Am I expected to get your boyfriend a Valentine’s Day gift?”

“No, no, no,” Nesta assured her breezily. “Nothing like that. Just…ideas. Give me some ideas. I will execute!”

Elain thought for a second, absorbed in whatever she was doing with that pastry bag, and then explained,

“Men don't care about presents. Not for this type of holiday,”

“They don’t?”

“No! Cass doesn’t want a box of chocolates!” she laughed. “He’d just have to work it out longer at the gym.”

“So then…?” Nesta’s voice trailed as her brows knitted in confusion.

“You are hopeless!” Elain sighed. “Romance. Seduction. That’s what he wants. Seduce him…”

“O-kay…As in?”

“I have to teach you how to seduce a man?” Elain demanded.

“I don’t need to seduce him. He is already seduced!”

“Expand your repertoire,” Elain all but ignored Nesta’s reasoning. “Do something you don't normally do,”

“What, whips and chains?”

“Why must you go that far? Unless you want to be chained and whipped?”

“No thanks.”

Nesta knew for a fact that that was more of an Elain and Azriel thing.

“Then what?” she asked again.

“What about sending him a sexy video?” Elain proposed.

“I am not sending nudes,” Nesta stated firmly. “If that ever gets out,”

“You think he is going to share your nudes?”

“Phones get hacked. Next idea?”

Elain sighed and then leaned back against the fridge, and crossed her arms on her chest.

“Have you tried introducing some whipped cream? Strawberries?”

“I don’t like mixing sex with food,” Nesta told her.

“Oh god. Well, what do you like?”

“My choices are nudes or rolling around in greasy sheets?” Nesta demanded crossly.

“Play a game,”

“What kind of game?”

“Like a sex game. You tell him one of your desires, and he tells you one of his, and you both do it,” Elain proposed.

Nesta chewed on her lips, thinking about it. It wasn’t a terrible idea.

“What else?”

“Try having sex in an unusual place,” Elain suggested. “Not in bed or a shower. But somewhere you don’t usually do it in,”

“Hmmm. Okay.”

This was giving Nesta ideas.

“We have a book,” Elain began but Nesta shook her head,

“No. Please no. I don’t want real-life examples from your sex escapades!!!”

“All I wanted to say,” Elain pouted, “was that if you have a sexy book or a magazine, you can open it to a random page and act out whatever is there…”

“Oh. Hmmm. That’s not bad. You’ve done that?”

“You just said no real-life examples!” Elain reminded her dryly.

“Yeah, true.”

Giving her a meaningful look of pure judgement, Elain added, “wouldn’t hurt if you dressed in something other than your smart clothes and your suits.”

“Lingerie?”

“It’s been known to help.”

In the next moment, Nesta exclaimed, “Oh my god, what is that!?!? Elain?!”

Elain glanced at the MASSIVE bouquet of pale pastel flowers that Azriel had given her earlier today. It wasn’t unusual that Azriel would give her flowers, so she didn’t quite understand Nesta’s reaction.

But Nesta was staring, wild-eyed, at what Elain was doing, and she saw a whole array of sugar biscuits, which were already shiny with icing, and upon which Elain was writing.

Writing such as:

Lick Me

I Lick You

Butt Play

Toys

Anal

Reverse Cowgirl

Pearl Necklace

Blindfold

Breed Me

Outside

Car BJ

And many others, which Nesta couldn’t even make out.

“What the hell is this?!” she cried out.

Elain began to scramble pathetically, trying to turn the biscuits over, but it was too late. Nesta’s seen enough.

“Elain! What the heck are you two up to?”

“Okay, whatever,” Elain was redder than the icing on the bakes. “It’s a game, okay? We are going to play a game too!”

“What kind of game is this?!”

“I think it’s obvious,” Elain hissed.

“Not really…”

“My god,” she rolled her eyes and threw her head back dramatically. “It’s a very simple game, Nesta. There is a platter of biscuits–you select one or two, and read what it says. Then you do it.”

Nesta’s eyes bugged out,

“So you are going to do anal?!?! Or a car BJ!?”

“I don’t know!!!!!!!!!!!” Elain screeched, all flustered and red. “Maybe! Maybe we’ll do anal,”

“You are pregnant,”

“You can have anal when you are pregnant. Also, I am not discussing this with you anymore. I’ve given you ideas. That’s it!” she stomped her foot.

Before the conversation could escalate even further and end up in a potential screaming match, the front door opened and Azriel’s deep, highly masculine and unabashedly sexual voice announced,

“Two jacket potatoes, coming up. Baby, I hope you are naked, because I am fucking gearing up to eat your pussy like a bulldog eats cereal.

“Also, they made me run three sprints today–though I told him that I am an old man with a wonky knee–but per your request, I am still sweaty. So have your way with me, lick it up.”

Nesta made a gagging noise deep inside her chest.

“We are not alone!” Elain screamed frantically.

“Who are we with? The dogs don’t count.”

Elain and Azriel had four dogs. The oldest, who was Elain’s originally, and then he had three sons–Benny, Churchy and John Boy–whom Elain and Azriel also kept. So, the dad and the three sons ran around together, and caused mischief and were four of the cutest dog potatoes ever.

When Azriel stepped inside, holding–by the looks of it–Churchy and Benny in each arm, both of them were dressed in red sweaters, it dawned on Nesta what he meant by ‘jacket potatoes’. Because it was kind of unbelievable that Elain and Azriel would dine on jacket potatoes for Valentine’s Day. Nevermind that Azriel was planning on dining on something else entirely.

“Oh, Nesta,” he muttered, without an ounce of excitement.

“Don’t worry, I am just leaving,” she got up from her seat, scowling. “I don’t need to be hearing about all your perversions,”

“Perversions?” Azriel smirked. “Judgey much?”

Elain was still squirming from embarrassment, but Azriel didn’t seem to care that his sister-in-law became privy to some seriously serious sex talk.

“The boys are knackered,” he announced, dumping the two pugs into their beds. They didn’t even wake up. Both were outfitted with heart-shaped headbands, and red jumpers with white hearts.

“Nesta, something you need?” he asked, “or,”

“Definitely not! The last thing I need to see is my sister licking your sweat or whatever the fuck you implied she was going to do to you.”

He laughed, while Elain buried her face in her hands.

Azriel was abnormally handsome–in a way that was almost unnatural, and his handsomeness allowed him to get away with a lot of nonsense.

“Let me guess, you forgot it was V Day and didn’t get my brother anything,” he suggested, stepping behind Elain and wrapping his arms around her.

“Ha! Not even close!” Nesta lied.

“All right then.” Azriel clearly didn’t believe her. “Then off you go, ice princess. I need to fuck my wife.”

“Az!” Elain moaned helplessly, while Azriel turned her around and cupped her face in his hands.

“What?” he smiled, while his tongue traced a line against her lips. “Let’s make Nessie so uncomfortable, she’ll run out screaming!”

“Already there,” Nesta hissed.

With Elain’s back to her and Azriel occupied with the kiss, Nesta quickly swiped a bunch of biscuits from the counter and dropped them in her bag. She can play the game too!

“Bye, you degenerates!” she cried out, and ran out, hearing Elain’s soft ‘byeeee’ on the way out.

Nesta and Cassian

“Happy Valentine’s Day, handsome,” Nesta cooed. “Do you want to play a game?”

“Any game you want, sweetheart,” Cassian offered, his voice thick and husky, “I’ll even lose, if you’d like me to,” he promised. His normally bright hazel eyes were dark and satiny, glistening with want and lascivious desire, as they skimmed over Nesta’s stunning lushness, presented to him in all its glory.

She greeted him in their kitchen, when he stomped inside like a big bear, dripping with February rain. He sure didn’t expect to find her there–wrapped up like the perfect candy box of Valentine’s chocolates for him to unwrap. Truthfully, he thought that she’d forgotten about it today–this holiday wasn’t her jam. But, oh how wrong he was.

Nesta was splayed on the white quartz countertop, dressed in nothing but blood-red silky lingerie, which left absolutely nothing to the imagination. The panties were little more than a piece of tissue paper, covering literally nothing, and the bra, which was tasked with containing Nesta’s lavish cleavage, was hardly anything more.

The bra was held together by an innocent looking rose, which nestled at the juncture of her soft, plush tits. While the same rose was attached to the top of the panties, just below her belly button.

“Well, that won’t be necessary,” Nesta assured him breezily, slowly, but intentionally crossing one long leg over the other. To complete the festive look, she wore gravity-defying red Louboutin heels. “I think we can both be winners in this game.”

She slowly walked her manicured fingers down the countertop, to an assortment of heart-shaped biscuits which were laid out in a…heart shape.

Cassian was a bit shocked. Not just from watching the gorgeous body and the spectacular set that she was wearing, but also from all this wild Valentine-ism that she went out of her way to do. He wasn’t expecting it. This was more of an Elain thing to do.

But he’d lost his ability to speak anyway, so it was a moot point. He was trying to wrap his mind around everything that he was seeing. There were only harsh, primal sounds coming from his gut. Very caveman-like.

“Pick a biscuit,” Nesta offered, tapping her finger next to each one.

Cassian shucked off his sodden jacket and his brogues, tossing his suit coat on the floor, uncaring. Slowly, like a lion stalking a lioness in the wild, he approached Nesta, trying to appear unaffected.

“What do we have here?” he finally managed to ask, licking his lower lip slowly. Nesta tracked the movement and shifted her body, so that her breasts almost spilled out of the flimsy bra cups, her nipples straining against the transparent lace.

“A gift for you,” she offered, batting her lashes at him.

“And what will it say?” he pondered, slowly untying the topknot of his long, black hair.

“I don’t know,” she admitted innocently. “But whatever you pick, you get to do to me…How does that sound?”

“Sounds like I am up to the challenge,” he promised, watching her bite her lower lip.

His cock stirred within his trousers, while he watched her full lips glisten with a smear of bright red gloss. What a trail it would leave on his cock. The thought alone made him harder.

Absently, he picked up one of the biscuits and then turned it, to see the message.

“Hmmm,” he hummed, cocking his brow.

Nesta craned her neck to sneak a peek, but he tsked and shook his head.

“No, no, Miss Archeron, a deal is a deal. Whatever it says, I will do.”

“But what does it say?”

“Something very interesting, and something I am very in the mood to do,” he told her and then slipped the biscuit in his back pocket.

She pouted, but it didn’t last long, because Cassian leaned over her and kissed her. Grasping her slim wrist in his huge hand, he brought it firmly to the swell of his cock.

“Must have been an interesting message,” she murmured into his mouth, but he wrapped his lips over her soft, pouty mouth and pried the sticky red lips apart with his tongue. Her thin fingers groped his dick firmly, just like he liked it, and a satisfied moan slipped from his lips, landing on Nesta’s tongue. She still sprawled on the counter, but despite the awkward position, Cassian put his big, warm hands on her thighs, travelling slowly over her soft skin toward the gossamer coverage of her panties, until his thumbs traced the warm wet slit beneath the material.

Nesta moaned into his cheek, biting the skin on his jaw, as she squeezed his shaft harder, working it over with her expert hand. She smelled incredible, her expensive Chanel perfume tickling his nose, as he inhaled deeply, while thrusting his palms under her ass cheeks and palming her hard. He caressed her tongue with his, opening her further up to his kiss, kneading the soft bare skin of her behind. She breathed hotly into his mouth, letting go of his cock and winding her arms around his neck. The loss of her hand on his erection was tragic, but that also allowed Cassian to pull her to him, making her grand tits press into his chest and the warmth of her pussy into his dick. She rubbed against him impatiently, murmuring ‘sorry for ruining your trousers’ to which he replied, ‘feel free to ruin all of me, sweetheart’.

She nodded, her long leg wrapping around his calves and pulling him even closer. The lips of her pussy stretched around the base of his erection, and she ground on him firmly and confidently.

“What’s my present for V day?” she teased, stroking his long hair and the back of his neck.

“Also a fun game,” he said, dragging his tongue over her mouth, kissing her lazily and with obscene sort of tenderness, indulging in her scent and her taste.

“What is it?” she asked.

“A version of whack-a-mole.”

“Are you the mole?” she queried.

“I am the whacker and the mole,” Cassian told her confidently.

Azriel and Elain

“Where was I?” Azriel murmured, watching Elain’s arched body in front of him. “Oh yes,” he remembered, “spreading your legs…”

He was behind her, his scarred palm rough on her hip, as he parted her thighs further. She was panting loudly, and he smiled, caressing her hair lovingly, “my little pillow-biter”.

“Mmm,” was all Elain managed, while the head of his hot, heavy, hefty cock prodded at her entrance, but he didn’t push inside. Instead, his hand slipped under her and stroked her round belly, while he whispered, “he good?”

She nodded yes. “He is good.”

“Ask for my cock, wife,” he then ordered.

She wiggled her round ass against his groin, the underside of his hard cock landing between her butt cheeks, but didn’t do as he asked.

He tsked and then slapped the heavy pole over her folds, making her gasp and clutch the sheets harder in her hands.

“Be a good girl, and ask,” he encouraged her, but she shook her head, stifling another moan when he smacked his cock over her pussy.

“Oh god,” was all she managed, because while it hurt, it also felt so good.

“I am waiting,” he sang, gripping her breasts in his hands and painfully twisting her nipples.

“Mmm–nooo,” she argued like a brat, shaking her head stubbornly.

Azriel sighed and contemplated for a moment, as he casually fondled her tits, half-seated on her hips.

“Last chance, beautiful. Ask for my dick,” he told her.

She shook her head and remained silent.

The thrill of punishment made her even hornier, as she didn’t know what he was going to do.

Flipping her over on her back, he kneeled on one knee over her and cupped his balls in his hand, lazily stroking his shaft. When she made to touch it, he said, “nope. You didn't ask for my cock like a good wife should. Now you are not getting it until I am ready to give it to you,”

He traced his lips with his thumb, while still rubbing his shaft, smearing precum over it, before sliding down and straddling her chest. Gathering her heavy breasts in his hands, he then spit on his dick and firmly pushed her breasts together. “Get ready, sweetness,” he warned, before thrusting his thick cock inside her cleavage. “Now, you are going to take my cock like my good girl, swallow nice and deep, while I fuck your pretty titites,” he instructed, pumping slowly between her breasts. “Tongue out,” he ordered, and Elain stuck her tongue out for him. The smooth head of his cock immediately landed on it, and she burrowed the tip into the sexy little slit, licking on it, tasting him. “That’s a good girl,” he approved, smiling down at her, as he quickly fluffed a pillow behind her head, so that the angle was just right. He squeezed her breasts even harder, and she gasped, especially when he tweaked her nipples, but he didn’t stop thrusting steadily, his movements precise and firm, so that the head of his cock remained inside her mouth for her to lick and suck on.

“Eye contact at all times, my love,” he reminded her, smiling at her, before pushing deeper in her mouth. Elain watched him obediently, her mouth full of him, her lips stretched around the thickness of the shaft, as she panted loudly around him. He jiggled her tits playfully, keeping them wrapped around his base and his balls. “Now you’ll have my cock in your mouth for as long as I want, naughty girl,” he pinched her nipples, “start sucking, baby.”

Elain submitted, immobilised beneath his weight, sucking scrupulously and hard, as she watched him like he wanted.

She wanted to be here too, in this place, in his position. She enjoyed being dominated, and Azriel dominated her well. She didn’t crave pain, though when he spanked her, or choked her, or slapped her with his dick, she loved it, but she needed to submit to his desires. She loved taking his cock any way he told her to, loved to serve him in bed, loved to give up control.

So she sucked sloppily, while he pumped her tits and worked his heavy balls up and down her chest.

“Is that good, pretty girl?” he asked.

She nodded, gasping for breath when he pushed his cock deeper. He didn’t stop, and pressed further, whispering “choke on it, beautiful. Come on!”

She sputtered and choked, her eyes pleading with him silently, as tears ran down her cheeks, but he shook his head.

“No. Swallow. And choke,” he ordered. “Open up. Wider,” and as she did, he plunged further, into her already trained throat.

After they got married, for three months all she did was suck his cock multiple times a day, learning how to train her gag reflex, learning how to truly suck dick, falling in love with it.

He released her tits from his grip, and she noticed the blossoming of bruises on her skin, while he propped himself on his arms, before starting to fuck her mouth greedily and obscenely.

Elain relaxed under the onslaught of his expertly delivered thrusting in her mouth and while he still choked her, she was also enjoying herself. She loved her husband more than it was rational or describable. Azriel fulfilled every dream, every hope, every desire, every need that she had.

Elian hummed against the hard, hot pole in her mouth, which made Azriel feel drunk, particularly when the sound reverberated in her throat, tickling the head of his shaft. He lovingly brushed his thumb over her cheek, watching her bob up and down and meeting every push of his shaft. The noises that she was making–sloppy, wet, explicit–were an erotic symphony in his ear. If he could listen to her gag on his dick for the rest of his life, he probably would.

“You are so good to me,” he whispered. “My Ellie. But, I promised you a gift.”

He eased his pounding of her mouth and resumed his spot on her chest, sliding his shaft back between her breasts. Her breathing eased and she put her hands on his firm, muscle-corded thighs, stroking him slowly, running her fingertips through the nest of pubes around his cock.

His balls tightened and this member twitched next to her sternum, while she squeezed his rock-hard ass cheeks in her hands, digging her nails into his skin. Just like her, he liked a bit of pain as well.

He pulled out of her mouth just in time for the warm jets of cum to land on her lips, her neck and her chest.

“Mmmm, more,” she finally moaned, licking the familiar salty outpouring from her lips, while he kept coming, until it was dripping down her chest. He scooped some with his fingers and let her lick them off the sperm.

“Beautiful girl,” he purred lovingly. “With a beautiful pearl necklace.”

She laughed and touched her neck. There, beneath the globs of cum, was her new pearl necklace, her Valentine’s gift and the present for her pregnancy.

Azriel collapsed on the bed next to her and then handed her a glass of water. She chugged it down gratefully and he took the biscuit from the nightstand. On it, in pretty script it was written ‘Pearl Necklace’.

Elain got up, amidst his protests and skipped to the bathroom, where she washed off her V Day gift and brushed her teeth.

Then, she quickly returned to bed and collapsed into the embrace of her husband.

“I love you, you know,” he said seriously, spooning her from behind.

“I do know that,” she smiled and kissed his hand. “And I love you. More than you’ll ever know.”

He kissed her shoulder gently and then arranged her against himself, before spreading her pussy with his fingers and nudging his already-hard dick inside. He thrust in slowly, filling her gradually and completely. She sighed contentedly.

“Are you hungry?” he worried.

She shook her head and made herself comfortable on his bicep.

“But I am happy.”

“I am happy if you are happy,” he said to her, and kissed her cheek.

Elain yawned.

Incredibly, of all the biscuits that she would have selected, she randomly chose ‘cock warming’--her very favourite thing to fall asleep with. It’s almost like she…cheated.

Nesta and Cassian

Nesta rolled her hips, seated on Cassian’s knees. Her own knees were tucked against his thighs, pressing tightly into him, holding him immobile.

“You look delicious, Nes,” he ground, his voice choked, as he ran his thick fingers through her long silky hair, though now it was tangled against her back.

Her pussy was dripping his shaft, each fold splayed prettily to accommodate his considerable girth and he couldn't get enough of the sight. Especially with the red of her panties pulled aside haphazardly, reminding Cassian of how impatient she was with him.

A lock of hair bounced over her round breasts, still covered by the bra cup, but it didn’t stop him from putting his mouth over her puckering nipple and biting.

“Fuck me, Cassian,” she grunted through gritted teeth, holding onto the back of his neck. She ground down on him, taking him inside her gorgeous body wholly, tempting tits swaying freely next to his face. He bit her nipple again, sucking on it through the material, and her head fell forward, pressing into his forehead.

The wet, hot friction between them was almost unbearable, but Cassian held her firmly by the hips, fucking up into her and making her take all of him again and again. It was pure, glorious heaven.

“Gimmie a kiss, sweetheart,” he told her, as he fucked her with rough, deep strokes. This was his favourite Nesta–weakened and compliant, her lips pink and glossy, when he took her mouth in a messy, wet kiss. She keened into him, allowing him full control of her body, sucking on his tongue like he wanted her to–soft and sighing with pleasure. He rocked her steadily, his thrusts deep and punishing, as he caressed her arched back and the peachy cut of her ass. She took him breathlessly, her mouth forming an almost shocked ‘O’ every time he hit that perfect spot inside of her, angling her body just so and making her cry out loudly again and again.

“Cassian. Cassian. Cassian.”

Her head lolled to the side and she closed her eyes, her grip on his neck and shoulders easing, and he held her closer, allowing her to relax and know that he had her.

“Good fucking girl,” he murmured into her hair, pressing his thumbs into the divots above her ass. “Letting me fuck and breed this perfect pussy.”

At that, Nesta exploded. The squelching sounds of her dick pushing inside her became a staccato of explicit, sultry melody.

“GOD. Cassian. I love you,” she squealed, as he huffed and grunted with adoration at her words.

The walls of her pussy squeezed him tightly, holding him in an almost painful vise-like grip, as she climaxed all over him, melting into a loud, needy scream. She fell into his chest, pumped continuously and nestled her face into the crook of his neck, sucking on it with desperation.

Only then did Cassian let go of his iron self control and came inside of her, letting her milk every drop of his seed.

“Beautiful, Nes,” he babbled in her ear. “Take it all. Finally.”

This was perfection.

The way she gripped him and how her pussy pulsed all around his dick was incredible.

Nesta was severely allergic to any hormonal contraceptives, and non-hormonal IUD didn’t work for her, causing constant bleeding and extreme discomfort. So they practised the ‘natural method’ and he never came inside of her. Until tonight. Finally. It was amaz-

“Cassian!!!” she cried out. “What the hell?!? What did you do?!”

She pushed against his chest and stared at him with a horrified expression.

“What did I do?” he exclaimed, alarmed.

He was in fact, still orgasming inside of her.

“What?!” he repeated.

“You came!” she accused him pointlessly.

“Well, yes,” his brow furrowed.

“Inside!” she stated the obvious, like he wasn’t aware.

“Well, yeah. You wanted me to!” he reminded her, as he kissed her lips.

“What? When did I want you to?”

“Nesta,” he sighed. “I know you are blissed out, baby, but you asked me to,”

“Asked you what?!”

“To come inside of you. Calm down, sweetheart.”

“What are you talking about?” she demanded.

“Stop freaking out. It’s going to be okay.”

“When did I ask you?!” she repeated again.

“The cookie.”

“What cookie?!?!” she screamed.

“The biscuit. That you told me to choose.”

“What about it??!!!” she wiped her face.

“It said Breed Me.”

She stared at him helplessly, mouth open.

Cassian kissed her again and pumped into her deeper, making everything seem inevitable.

“So I bred you,” he shrugged, looking proud of himself.

Fucking Elain and her fucking biscuits.

#elriel #nessian #azriel and elain #elain x azriel #nesta and cassian #cassian and nesta #elain archeron #azriel #nesta archeron #my fanfiction #nessian fanfiction #elriel fanfic #my writing

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lizzybeth1986 · 5 months

Text

Rose Gold

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Hana Lee x Kiara Theron

Rating: PG

Word Count: 4, 304 words

Content Warning: Mention of Gun Violence, Character Injury.

Summary: Six months after King Liam and Queen Esther's wedding, Hana and Kiara take their next big step as a couple.

A/N: Set in the P&Tverse. Since P&T spans the timelines of Books 2 and 3 (the Engagement Tour and the Unity Tour + Liam & Esther's wedding), most of this fic takes place after the series is meant to end, and there are references to things that happen there that aren't canon.

The first half of the fic, however, takes place just before the group reunites with the MC and Drake at the safe house (TRR3, Ch 1).

I've borrowed a few elements from Hana's own engagement to the MC in the books: the rose gold ring, the coin throwing ritual at the foundation and the proposal at the lake.

Tagging @hanaleeappreciationweek for Day 5: Romance, @choicesficwriterscreations for FoTW and LGBTQ Archive, and @choicesmaychallenge24 for Hera: Marriage

October 14th, 2017. Half past Midnight.

Foolishness. Sheer foolishness.

The voice inwardly chiding her right now sounded suspiciously like her mother; for that reason alone she was desperate to ignore it.

But what else would one call an impulse to jump out of a car that could take her in complete secrecy to the city's best safe house, only to race to Argyros and Sons - Cordonia's premier jewellery store - for a gift she wasn't even sure would be accepted...a promise she wasn't even sure its intended recipient would want?

"Looking for something specific, Your Grace?"

Surprised, Hana looked up from the case displaying an assortment of glittering diamond rings. The eyes that met hers in a speculative survey were ocean-blue, marked by wizened crow's feet. It was at the tip of her tongue to correct him (Lady Hana, sir!) when she spotted the Twitter feed on the iPhone in his hand.

News sure does travel fast around the Capitol!

But no sooner had that thought left her head, than the riptide of memories began to flood her.

The Homecoming Ball. Hors d'oeuvres. Speeches. Fireworks. Announcements. Please welcome Esther DuPont, Duchess of Valtoria, and Hana Lee, Duchess of Krysanthe. Cheers. Expectant Gazes. And then...

Darkness. Gunshots. The acrid taste of fear.

Hana bit back a grimace. How long would memories of tonight haunt her? How long would it be before she heard people address her by her new title, without memories of the violence that followed?

She held her handbag with a sudden death-grip, forcing herself to breathe. To push forth happier, sweeter memories.

Unbidden, comes the one memory that had managed to keep her sane this night.

Her laughter.

Sharp. Raucous. Loud. Jarring against the tinkling sounds of cutlery and glassware, as far away as one could get from the soft, windchime quality of delicate laughter, that every female courtier was taught to emulate.

She thought she'd known love until that moment, fool that she was. Thought that no matter who she dated, no matter how distant she'd be from those memories of the social season - Esther would somehow remain her first and forever love.

Until she had taken that one fateful look at Kiara's wildly joyous face, heard her cackle - the kind one would never normally dare to do at court - and realized with piercing clarity that if she were to compare her feelings for these two women, they would be nowhere close.

Her love for Esther had all the subdued warmth of a crackling bonfire. But these newfound feelings for Kiara?? They made her feel like she was plunging herself headfirst into a raging volcano.

Something within Hana had trembled violently in that moment; some premonition that felt searing in its finality.

Kiara was the one. She was all Hana had ever wanted, without knowing it; all that Hana would ever want, from now till eternity. The one in whose arms she would want to stir awake, every day for the rest of her life.

Kiara Thorne, or no one. Kiara Thorne, or lifelong loneliness.

The phrase rang in her ears like a verdict: final, eternal, unchangeable.

When Hana opened her eyes, she found to her consternation that they were blurry from unshed tears. Quickly blinking them away, she noted dully how different the rings on the display now looked.

Certainly she must have moved to another part of the store without knowing. Where before she'd seen glittering, brilliant, ostentatious diamonds, set in white gold and platinum...now she saw stones nestled in the embrace of a warmer, almost blush-toned metal.

Rose gold.

The metal that was all the rage in her mother's birthplace Bethulia, for its delicate shimmer and soft pink hue. Mama had told her often enough in her childhood that their barony's love for it went far beyond just the colour...that her mother - Hana's Nanimaa - loved it for being such a perfect union of gold, silver and copper...

A whisper of a memory of Nanimaa, the one time she'd ever seen her. At a fountain, glowing from the glimmer of abandoned coins.

It took her less than a minute to find exactly what she didn't know she'd been looking for. Had you asked the jeweller about her, he would have told you that the newly appointed Duchess of Krysanthe had chosen her ring with the greatest confidence. The confidence of a woman who had probably wooed her beloved, confessed her love, basked in the joy of being loved back.

A confidence Hana didn't feel.

When she returned to the limo, she was greeted with the sight of a pensive Liam, rubbing the frown between his brows absently with his fingers. A telltale muscle jumped inside his jaw.

"Any news?" Hana whispered, almost dreading the answer.

"Yes," his voice was grainy from exhaustion and guilt. "Three people injured. Bastien, Esther's press secretary, and...."

"And?" Her voice had gone small and high, that a fearful child's.

"And Lady Kiara. She was..."

Hana blinked once, then blinked again. Liam's mouth was moving, yet no sound seemed to come out. All that she could hear was a low, keening noise, like a muffled siren...or like the moan of a woman in terrible pain.

Kiara. Kiara. Kiara.

May 12th, 2018. Afternoon.

"How far from the palace are you taking us?" Kiara asks, her voice alight with laughter.

"Not even outside its gates," Hana replies, grinning. Kiara looks down at their fingers laced together, palms almost touching.

They've been together for just six months, and still somehow, the lines on Hana's palm feel as familiar to her now as her own. Without even looking she can conjure up the memory of the heartline on Hana's left palm at a moment's notice - long and deep, starting from her index finger, suggesting she would be a wonderful lover with a very fruitful love experience - and her marriage line, stretching from one end of her palm all the way to her ring finger...suggesting friendly in-laws.

(The thought of luring Hana to marry her under the premise of palmistry is sounding more and more tempting by the minute)

Involuntarily - perhaps to stop herself from checking her trouser pockets once again for that tiny box she took from her vault today - Kiara's hand tightens around Hana's.

Can she dare to hope that fortunate beloved could be her?

She steals a glance in Hana's direction, noting with alarm that her fingers are trembling in Kiara's hand.

"We're here," she says, her voice suddenly small and quivering against the gurgle of water in the courtyard fountain. It's been a palace fixture for several decades now - ornate and imposing - a legacy from King Liam's formidable grandmother, the late Queen Mother Cassandra. According to Kiara's father, the woman had married into the family as a young princess from Monterisso, and for her foreignness alone was expected to be crushed by the strictures of the palace and the expectations of her people - yet in a decade's time she had somehow became the most imposing figure there! There was very little in the palace that didn't have her stamp of approval first.

As they come closer, Kiara sees the one thing Queen Mother Cassandra may not have predicted when this fountain was built - the glimmer of coins, all gleaming in the sunlight like they were minted just yesterday.

Her own smile begins to tremble on her lips, even as she notices Hana swallow a telltale nervous lump in her throat. For the first time since they have gotten here, Kiara notices that Hana's other hand is fisted around something. Something that could very likely be the same coins they just saw in the fountain.

She takes that hand gently in hers, knowing now how nervous Hana must feel; knowing that if they complete the ancient lover's ritual that she so hoped to do today, there will be no going back. She uncoils Hana's fisted hand, finger by quivering finger, watching her face as her breathing quickens. She smiles again - a smile more aimed at reassurance than amusement.

"Are we going to do what I think we're going to do today, ma moité?"

For several seconds, Hana doesn't respond. The three coins in her hand (Heavy. Ornate. Engraved with apples. Ancient) are proof enough. The answer, when it finally comes - almost like it is torn out of her throat for fear that Kiara's feelings may not match her own - is barely audible.

"Only if this is what you want too."

Gold. Silver. Copper. Tossed in one after the other in an ancient lover's ritual - one that Kiara knows only because she'd learned about it from her mother, who'd had friends in Bethulia where this ritual was most popular. Maman and Baba themselves had done it on a trip there when she was a teenager, still squirming over her parents' ability to still act like swoony romantics in their (and this would be said well out of their earshot) "fucking forties!".

Wiser now, Kiara feels the same anticipatory tingles that her parents must have felt back then.

This ritual wasn't for the faint of heart in ancient days. You did it only when you were certain. When you looked at your lover and knew that a life without them wasn't a life worth living.

Well, Kiara muses as she watches a hundred emotions flit in a second over Hana's face, I think I've known that long enough. I've known ever since I saw you fight your father in Shanghai, even when you knew it would cost you everything. Since that one moment, I've been yours.

Planting a tender kiss on the corner of Hana's mouth, she takes the coins. "Ready when you are," she whispers softly.

Hana swallows again, her eyes glistening and moist and relieved all at once. In a silk pouch that dangles from her wrist, she fishes for three coins identical to the ones on Kiara's palm. She breathes deep once, twice, three times.

Kiara links their free hands, grips them tight as they turn their backs to the fountain. Hana looks up, a question in her eyes.

"For friendship!" Kiara says, tossing the copper coin into the fountain. Faint memories of something that almost feels like another lifetime glimmer and fade in her memory. Applewood, sipping water, giggling over their favourite fruits and flowers. The Beaumont Bash. Watching from the sidelines as Hana did the verbel equivalent of ripping out Olivia Nevrakis' spine at the Coronation Ball.

Hana takes out the silver coin, and waits for Kiara to holds up hers'. "For love?"

Engagement tour. Fearing Hana would hate her in Fydelia, but never understanding why that should suddenly matter. Standing with her against a bridge in Paris, each mourning their lost loves.

Finally learning what love really was, when she opened her eyes and truly saw Hana for the very first time.

Kiara nods, touching her forehead to Hana's. "Par amour." Their coins splash in unison in the water.

Her girlfriend lets out a watery giggle as she takes out the final coin, glittering and golden on her palm. Her voice breaks a little as she tosses it behind her. "For...bel- belonging".

Kiara's own sigh releases in a shudder as she lets the final pledge sink in.

There were very few places in the world that truly felt like home to Hana. Not the place where she was born, not the barony that could have been her legacy. It took her months to even find comfort or security in her future in Cordonia - much less belonging.

Without a moment's thought, and without releasing the golden coin in her hand, she cups Hana's face and kisses her. Hana shudders and buries her hands in Kiara's hair, her lips trembling against the unspoken promises in her lover's.

"For belonging," Kiara says it like it is a vow. "And I don't care how long it takes - I give my word right now. I'll never let you feel like you have lost your home. Ever." Another kiss - this time on Hana's temple. "I hope you will always find one. In me."

Hana's smile is warm and dreamlike, her eyes closed as if to savour this moment, her fingers playing with Kiara's curls. She barely notices the sound of Kiara's gold coin landing in the fountain. "I love you, Kiki."

Kiara chuckles at her teasing use of the nickname, brushing Hana's nose with her own. "Together forever?"

Their hands, now free, close around each other. "Together forever."

It's quiet now, except for the sound of collard doves, the rustle of leaves and branches in a light breeze, and their breathing. The air smells of wildflowers, citrus and a subtle floral scent that Kiara knows to be the perfume Hana has been using for months. Orange Blossom. She grins as she remembers. It's a scent Hana has often loved to wear, just for her.

Hana's thumb feathers lightly over the ring finger on Kiara's left hand, almost as if to commit the bare space on it to her memory. Kiara doesn't miss that gaze - bright-eyed and soaked in longing - and how it mirrors a need she has felt ever since they landed at the Capitol last week.

Kiara swallows. She had wanted to take things slow, she really did. Woo her, bathe her in every luxury possible, make this trip even more unforgettable than Hana could ever imagine, and then spring this surprise on her - like a kirsch-soaked cherry topping on an already very tempting Black Forest Cake.

But...but that gaze of Hana's has always been Kiara's undoing.

Simply, she says, "come with me."

Puzzled, Hana looks up. "Where?"

"To Lake Sôse," Kiara whispers, wasting not one more moment and grabbing her hand. Hana lets out a nervous, slightly incredulous laugh as she allows herself to be pulled along.

Kiara isn't sure why she's suddenly rushing this. When she thinks of the elaborate plans she'd been constructing all week - chocolate-dipped strawberries and champagne at one of the Capital's premier restaurants, flowers everywhere, a proposal at the hedge maze with a picture together by the swing to commemorate the occasion - she wants to laugh. She isn't even sure why Lake Sôse was the first place she'd thought of just now.

She takes a deep breath, and grounds herself. Uncommonly impulsive though it may be, her decision has been made. There is even a part of her that seems to prefer it to happen this way!Kiara has never been one for last minute changes of plan...but ever since she fell in love with Hana, she's learned to expect - and enjoy - the unexpected.

It's only when she sees the shine in Hana's eyes that she realises why her mind took the turn it did.

Lake Sôse. The one place Hana Lee has always chosen for solace and comfort. The one place in the Capitol where she felt the most at home. It had been here, Hana told Kiara once, that King Liam had told her his plans to appoint her Duchess of Krysanthe. It was here, hours later, that she'd shared that momentous news with her best friend Esther; where Esther - herself aglow with love and a newfound purpose - hugged Hana and told her that the world would now be Hana's oyster.

She'd brought Kiara to this lake for the first time the day after King Liam and Queen Esther's wedding, following a night when the queen herself had been kidnapped, and Hana had joined the king's entourage to rescue her.

A night that Kiara - in constant fear of losing her forever - had recklessly kissed Hana. In public. In front of the entire court. Braving gazes of teasing approval from Kiara's parents, and near-murderous glares from Hana's. The night everyone outside of Hana's friend circle finally realized the two were a couple.

Kiara remembers the day after that like it was yesterday. Something must have changed fundamentally in Hana that night, because the fear seemed to have gone, and with it the compulsive need for hiding and subterfuge and constantly looking over her shoulder. It was as if Hana had faced what she'd thought was the worst thing that could happen to her, and realized she really was strong enough to face that fear.

You're my safe place among people, Hana told her that morning, her fingers lacing through Kiara's. The one I feel most at home with. I want to bring my safe space..to the place in Cordonia I've always felt safest in.

It is afternoon, and the yellow crocuses behind them exude a warm, buttery golden glow in the sunlight. Hana lets out a breathless, incredulous laugh. "You seem like a woman in a very huge rush today, Lady Thorne."

Kiara's own laughter in response is high-pitched and halting. She tries to hide the moistness of her palms as she makes a blind grab for the small velvet box in her purse. "Believe me, this wasn't the way I'd planned this to go at all."

Intrigued, Hana's eyes follow Kiara's hands, and her eyes widen as she recognises the familiar deep blue velvet, the embossed silver lettering on top. Argyros and Sons.

"Is that --"

"Yes," Kiara says, clearing her throat, "I'd been planning this. All week. It was going to be romantic, elaborate, I was going to sweep you off your feet. Just like I'd planned to ask you out seven months ago."

Hana lets out a watery giggle. We all know how that turned out, don't we, qīn'ài de? Kiara can almost hear her saying.

But the humour stops almost immediately when she looks at the box again, and suddenly Hana seems too still, too shocked...too far off from how Kiara hoped she would react.

Kiara lets out a deep breath, then lets the words gush out of her. She's too scared to stop, too terrified to think - the fear that she may be doing too much too soon is so overwhelming that she knows if she stops she won't be able to bring herself to do this for a long, long time to come. The humiliation would be too strong.

"I'm not one for impulse. I never have been. I've never felt comfortable with anything if I didn't have a plan for it first."

Kiara gives herself a moment to half-smile at the irony of it all. Approaching Hana Lee with a smile and a bottle of water, after that first eventful bite of a Cordonian Ruby was definitely an impulse. So were half the things she had done with Hana since. So will many, many, many of the things they may wind up doing together, if (if!) this leap of faith works in her favour.

She looks up at Hana to see if she's laughing at the memory too. She isn't. In fact, Kiara isn't even sure Hana's reacting yet to what she's saying. Perfectly still, her eyes never moving from the box, so wide that they would go bloodshot if they were widened any further. Kiara swallows, and finds that her throat feels suddenly, inexplicably sore.

"I could never tell what it was about you that changed all that. I still don't. All I know is that...around you, Hana, I feel so much more brave. To let go of the need to plan and organize. To not be too afraid of what will follow - whether it goes in my favour or not. I find myself not just willing, but eager, to trust my gut."

Kiara's eyes search every inch of Hana's face as she opens the box, revealing the ring inside. It's a gorgeous piece, all platinum and sparkling diamonds. The smaller stones form a cluster around a massive one, leading the viewer to believe they are seeing a glittering snowflake, fallen fresh from the heavens.

Kiara had known the minute she saw the ring that it was the one. That it would remind them of the first time they confessed their love. Of their very first date, of the first time they shared Hana's cup of homemade hot chocolate. Of why the two of them will always love winters.

Hana's fingers move, trembling, towards her mouth, her face suddenly flushed. She remembers it too.

"Hana Lee," A frisson of fear slithers down Kiara's spine. "Will you marry me?"

When Hana finally opens her mouth, several seconds later, Kiara has to strain to hear her voice.

"I - I -" her eyes dart away from Kiara as if she's just remembered something important - her beautiful bronzed skin suddenly a little drained of colour. The next few words, she says in a "I.... I'll be back. Give me five minutes? I...just remembered something."

She leaves without waiting for an answer.

Kiara sinks into the grass, covering her face in her hands.

What have I just done?

All the way back from her room in the palace to the lake, the pouch hanging from her wrist feeling only a slight bit heavier, Hana cannot stop mentally kicking herself.

"You fool! You imbecile! Bèn dàn!!" Hana curses herself as she speeds up her sprint into a run, "What happened to your tongue? What kind of reaction was that?? What will Kiara think?"

Her mind now sprints miles ahead of her feet, racing in panicked ferocity over the possibilities.

With any luck, Kiara could still be waiting - puzzled and perhaps a little worried. Or she could be actively panicking, the way she does (on very rare occasions) when a plan goes terribly wrong.

Or...or...

Hana holds the silk pouch from her wrist in a deathlike grip as she speeds up towards Lake Sôse. Or.

The thought of that lovely, open space completely devoid of Kiara, of that beguiling combination of rose and jasmine emanating from her favourite Dior J'adore perfume, makes Hana's stomach drop to her feet.

It isn't until she sees that that heartbreakingly familiar figure of Kiara's, hunched over the grass, that Hana allows herself to breathe.

Kiara is there. Shoulders bent, head buried in her hands, almost stumbling as she tries to get up when she sees Hana.

Morose. Defeated. But still there.

Without another thought, Hana rushes into Kiara's arms, almost knocking her off her feet.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Hana whispers against her hair. "I wasn't trying to run away. I really had to get something. For you."

Kiara pulls back to look into her eyes, and when she does Hana's heart twists at the sight of unshed tears. "I thought I'd scared you off."

Hana's own laughter quavers, pitched high in disbelief. "I've just pledged myself to you this afternoon, body and soul, at the palace fountain. This -" she lifts Kiara's left hand to her chest, her thumb caressing the empty space on her beloved's ring finger " - just makes it so much more real."

Kiara's arms wrap around her, pulling Hana flush to her. Hana can feel Kiara shake as she giggles in response. "...you mean to say that I'd have saved myself so much stress if I'd just remembered those coins."

"Yes, qīn'ài de, a thousand times yes." She cups Kiara's face, pressing their foreheads together. "Place that ring where it belongs, Kiki. I can't wait to see it on my finger."

Hana holds her tight until Kiara's breathing becomes slower, calmer. She raises her newly-adorned hand for Kiara to see - marvelling at how the ring really mimics the glow of a snow crystal in the winter sun.

When they part, shyly, reluctantly, Hana begins to fiddle with the silk pouch.

"Here's what I'd gone to bring."

Kiara's eyes brighten at the sight of the box in her hand; a wave of warmth floods through Hana in anticipation of her response. Kiara gasps the minute she opens the box, revealing a delicate, intricately carved rose gold ring, flanked by small diamonds on all four corners, cradling a bigger one at the center.

"Rose gold," Kiara murmurs in wonder.

"Yes," Hana brushes her fingers over Kiara's knuckles. She'd told her once, long ago, how revered that metal was in her home province Bethulia. How Bethulian jewellers and goldsmiths and young women swore by the rosy hue it exuded. How it was a perfect amalgamation of three precious metals - all highly valued in the province. How tied it was to their folktales and bridal rituals.

"Copper..silver...gold." Kiara's tears glitter like diamonds before she lets them fall. "For friendship. For love. For belonging."

Hana smiles, her hand still stroking Kiara's cheek. "You remembered."

Kiara rolls her still-moist eyes, trying hard not to sniff - it would take out all the humour in this situation. "It's hard to forget a ritual we'd performed just ten minutes ago, ma moité."

"I'd planned to give you this ring a week from now," Hana says, shaking her head at her own impulsiveness as the ring she'd chosen on a fanciful whim so long ago, now finds its home. "I've been holding onto it for far too long."

Kiara caresses the stone on her own finger lovingly, admiring the way the rose gold glows on her skin. When she speaks, her voice is breathless in anticipation. "How long?"

For several minutes, Hana's only response is to pull Kiara back in her arms again. Her hand slides slowly, almost with a tinge of regret, down the dip of Kiara's waist on her left side. The wound that had once served as a constant, searing reminder of so much (of her vulnerability, of her inability to run from pain, of what she'd once considered her failures), has healed in more ways than one - only a faded scar that Hana never fails to kiss, now remains.

"For seven months," Hana's voice shakes at the memory, "Since the night after Homecoming Ball."

With a choked sob, Kiara enfolds Hana into her arms, almost as if she'd want to absorb her into every cell of her body. Fervently, reverently, she presses her lips all over Hana's face - her eyelids, her cheeks, the bridge of her nose, all the little-known, barely-noticed parts of her. It takes her a while - perhaps too long, in Hana's opinion - for Kiara's lips to meet hers, but she welcomes the sweet torture of waiting.

"Mon cœur," Kiara says between kisses, "ma raison de vivre."

When they part, the two women keep each other's hands interlinked, one left hand over the other. Neither of them will remember how long they stay at the lake; only that they never want this joy, this warm afterglow of seeing their dreams come true...to end.

The empty spaces on their ring fingers, over which they'd each stolen such secret, hungry glances today, now bear the mark of their lovers. Now bear the most tangible signs of their love, their memories, their promises, their commitment.

Together forever.

Translation:

Ma moité - a romantic endearment in French, meaning "my other half"

Qīn'ài de - Mandarin Chinese for "my dear"/"darling"

Bèn dàn - Mandarin Chinese cuss word that means "stupid egg!"

Mon cœur - French endearment, meaning "my heart"

Ma raison de vivre - French for "my reason to live"

References for Hana and Kiara's engagement rings:

Kiara:

(Source: Maxine Jewellery)

Hana:

(Source: This article on engagement rings, but the actual pic itself came from Blue Rose Photography)

#hana lee #the royal romance #the royal heir #the royal finale #hanaleeappreciationweek #HLAW #HLAW 2024 #HLAW Day 5 #HLAW Day 5: Romance #series: petals and thornes #lizzybeth1986 #content: fanfic

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nostromo13 · 9 months

Text

Marry the Sea

Fandom: Fairy Tail

Pairing: Nalu

Rating: Gen

Summary: Usually Natsu felt like he knew everything when it came to Lucy. He knows she loves him but now it's come time to propose and he's not so sure if marriage is something she wants.

This was written for @fleuve-des-etoiles for the @allaboutnalu 2023 Gift Exchange. Sorry it took so long to get out. Life has me busy but I loved writing this.

I owe a big thank you to Tokkias for being my beta for this fic. She put so much work into this, so smooches for her

AO3 Link

Lucy didn’t like surprises. Her friends knew her birthdays weren’t to be made a fuss of and any special achievements such as her book award required no more than a personal, close-circle dinner at a budget-friendly restaurant. No splashing out on her account.

If she took the care to analyse this feeling properly she could probably identify the source as some unspecifiable upset from the hundreds of surprises that came from having wealth. There were the low-effort, entirely symbolic trinkets that counted as birthday presents from her father – usually bought by the house staff – which didn’t make for a great foundation of trust in gift giving. And there were the bountiful gifts from potential courters, all with a transparent intention behind them wrapped up in crepe paper and finished with professionally tied bows. She had had enough of gifts by the time she left the Heartfilia mansion.

As such, a dilemma arose upon the start of her relationship with Natsu. Her love language was quality time, either by themselves or with Happy. It didn’t matter where, as long as she could enjoy her time with her new boyfriend. Natsu's, however, was gift giving.

Lucy had explained to him after the third little trinket that he had given her for no particular reason other than he liked it and thought it would look pretty on her that she simply wasn’t interested in that sort of thing. It set off something in her that made her want to cry that she wasn’t his dress-up doll and she hated feeling like someone else was trying to make her pretty or put her on display.

She knew it wasn’t like that, though. Natsu, for all his dragon tendencies, wanted to make her smile with his giving. She wasn’t his hoard – although wherever that was hidden away it did have a lot of similar jewellery to the sort she wore. She wished she could make more room for his love language and as such she let him go all out for birthdays and Christmas. She tried to meet his gusto when she could.

After four years of resigning gifts as a solely birthday affair, Natsu now had to figure out how to propose to her without touching the nerve that led straight to the ‘gift’ trigger portion of Lucy’s brain. He had even pulled in the big guns to help him plan the right approach.

“I don’t see how it’s the same thing as a gift. I think she’ll be fine with it, Natsu.” Levy was offering her insight, albeit unhelpfully so far.

They had gathered along with Gray, excluding the rest of their team because Erza had the tact of a pinwheel and would blow the operation in her next conversation with Lucy and the guilt of keeping a secret would eat away at Wendy from the inside out. The Exceeds had never really gotten the hang of human dating rituals. Case and point Happy understanding his finally winning Carla over as the result of his continued fish offerings.

“If it feels like the natural time for you both, I don’t see why you shouldn’t.” Levy continued as Natsu shook his head.

“What if it’s the right time for me but it isn’t for her? I don’t want to push her.”

“You don’t want it to be a repeat of Joe. That’s what you’re worried about.” Gray interjected. As much as they grated on each other, Gray was good at being his back up when Natsu truly needed it. It was a once in a blue moon occurrence but Natsu couldn’t help but be glad for his long-term nemesis right now.

Joe had been Lucy’s boyfriend prior to Natsu at 22 and things had gotten pretty serious. They had done all but move in together when Joe popped the question and it had sent Lucy running in the other direction. She had loved him and she had loved his family, but for whatever reason that Natsu hadn’t deciphered in the three years since then that he and Lucy had been dating, she hadn’t been ready to get married.

“It won’t be another Joe.” Levy spoke rather sternly. The script mage was convinced that just because he was Natsu and he was Lucy’s partner, that they were eternally bonded and Lucy wouldn’t dream of turning down his proposal. All he had to do, in her eyes, was gather the balls to ask.

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t be nervous.” Levy shifted her tone when she realised she was erring on the side of unsympathetic. “Of course you’re going to be nervous. She’s the love of your life.”

Gray made a nauseous face at that, earning a playful elbow from Natsu. “Maybe a ring isn’t the right move.” He added, trying to be at least somewhat helpful.

“Lucy’s never responded well to jewellery.” Natsu agreed, getting an immediate objection from Levy.

“She liked that last necklace you got her. She wears it all the time.”

“And she helped me find the ring I proposed to Juvia with.” Gray added.

Natsu gave it a hard thought. “Did she give any indication of whether she would want one? From me?”

“We didn’t talk about it. She was dating him at the time and it didn’t really seem relevant. She was always going to end up with you anyway.”

That seemed to calm him a little. His nerves were racing even through the planning stage but if everyone else saw what he had from way before the war with the Alvarez empire that maybe, just maybe, Lucy loved him as much as he did her.

Or very possibly it wasn’t about love and marriage just wasn’t something she wanted, in which case they would work around it.

Having given all the advice she could reasonably give, Levy called over her husband, currently arrested himself in the demand of two four year olds gripping onto his arms and dangling off the floor.

“Did Salamander decide whether he was gonna do it or not?” He asked, directing his question to his wife as if the other two weren’t sitting across from her.

“Yeah, I think I will.” Natsu replied. “It’s all I want right now and I want to at least have the conversation with her.”

“That’s the right spirit, Natsu.�� Levy agreed.

Gajeel guffawed in his gravelly voice, the sharpest of his teeth showing in his amusement. “Make sure ya get a return receipt on that ring.”

Yeah, that didn’t help.

------------

When the day finally came, Natsu had everything planned down to the minute. He had put more effort into this than anything else in his life – including the trials in which he had succeeded at gaining S-Class mage status.

He was intent on at least talking to Lucy about it even if she didn’t end up saying yes right there. The worst-case scenario was her doing the same thing she did to her ex and bolting after the smallest explanation she could muster. Only this time Natsu wasn’t an outsider to the guild and it would affect their whole social lives and work.

They had just finished a mission together when they were off on their date. Casual clothing – nothing that could tip her off or make it so big a deal that she would feel pressured. They’d gathered a few foods from her kitchen, put them in a basket so they would be easier to carry and set off for the park for an afternoon lunch.

“I love Jason but I sometimes wish he wasn’t so pushy with getting me to ask my friends if they will do shoots for him.” Natsu listened as Lucy described her recent run in with their favourite reporter. He and Lucy really were good friends from her time as a journalist with Sorcerer Weekly but since then Jason, feeling the pressure from his bosses to churn out more content of Fiore’s top guild, had been trying to use his connection with Lucy to influence Mira and the other Fairy Tail girls to model for him. While they were happy to, on occasion, the weekly permanent contracts that Jason was pushing for weren’t conducive to the busy life of a Fairy Tail Mage.

“What did he say when you asked him to stop?”

“He just got all sad.” Lucy shrugged. “I know it’s none of my responsibility and he’s not trying to make it so it is but I feel kind of bad.”

“Eh, it’s his job, and it sounds more like his bosses are screwing up.”

Her boyfriend, ever the blunt one. Lucy chuckled to herself. “It’s not like that in that world of work. He can’t just drop a client like us because he doesn’t like the way they speak. You can’t just change your bosses.”

“Sounds dumb.” He shook his head. It took a second for him to realise how dismissive he might have sounded. “I’m glad you came back with me instead of staying at that job.” He added softly.

“Me too.” She smiled at him.

They had known generally what area they would sit in when they entered the park. Picnics weren’t out of place for them and Lucy particularly loved sitting near the duck pond so they aimed for about there. They managed to find a nice shady spot that got enough of the Spring breeze but also the summer warmth that May was beginning to invite in.

Lucy waited for Natsu to finish spreading out the blanket before placing their items down and unpacking their basket. Some fruits, some sweeter snacks for later and Marmalade sandwiches, a quirk Lucy had brought with her from her hometown that, when she had introduced it to Natsu, it had become a firm favourite. Now, whenever they passed through Acalypha on the way back from a mission, she always made sure to pick up a fresh jar.

Natsu reached for the Tupperware of cakes, stopping himself just as his fingers met the rim of the plastic. He wanted to be on his best behaviour today and going for dessert first didn’t fall under that. Unless doing just that would tip her off. And surely he should act like his usual self today.

As if answering his question, his fingers were moved out the way by more dainty ones. He watched as Lucy removed the lid for him, taking a slice of Battenberg from the options and raising it to her lips, taking a big bite.

He watched almost in awe. Lucy never broke social etiquette, especially not around food. He was pretty sure such a thing went against her coding.

“Go on Natsu.” She smiled widely at her sputtering boyfriend. She brushed a few crumbs from the corner of her mouth where her unusual haste had spread some.

He didn’t need to be told twice. He took the plate she offered, filling his plate so full that the weight of the mini cakes and the structure of the plate made it look like a paper plate taco in his grip.

Eventually they got through the deserts and onto the sandwiches, Lucy admittedly feeling a little sickly after so much sugar. That was never a hazard for her partner. They had struck up in that time a conversation debating which of their guildmates would win a Ninja obstacle course – whatever one of those was.

The debate had reached the point where Natsu had stood up, waving his arms about, animatedly presenting his argument as to why Laxus could not win at the inflatable obstacle course section.

“He would blow up the course because of the static electricity or something. He couldn’t touch the thing without it exploding beneath him because his electricity would fuck everything up, right?”

“I thought magic was banned from this.” Lucy asked, taking another bite of a sandwich. “I think he would just run around, anyway.”

“No, that would be banned.”

“But the Exceeds flying isn’t?”

“Yeah, well, the floor is Lava or something, I don’t know.” He grinned, not deflated at all by her pragmatism. This was how their conversations usually went on dates like this. She would propose some stupid idea – the Guild Obstacle Course coming from her mind and not his– and Natsu would take it and run with it while she offered a more practical perspective on things.

He sat himself down beside her, arms outstretched on the grass as she leaned into his shoulder. “I think Erza would win.”

“Yeah, she would.” He agreed, more occupied with the feel of her hair against his cheek than expanding on their argument.

“Although.” Lucy began to add, popping her head up suddenly from their rest, “Sabertooth could give us a good run for our money.”

“But they’re not in the guild.”

“So, we’d open it up to other guilds. We could make a rival Grand Magic Games.”

“With no magic?”

“Oh, yeah.” She seemed to sink back into thinking. Before she could think up a new line of enquiry, Natsu thought it best to try and steer her onto a more affectionate type of conversation. Hopefully that would calm the thrumming in his chest that had taken route there the night before.

“Cana’s been talking about proposing to Abigail.” Smooth, dragon slayer. He chastised himself for showing his talent for bluntness.

Lucy smiled, though showing no suggestion that she had caught onto his internal anxiety. “I like Abi. I think she’s been really good for Cana and Cana’s been good for her.”

“The guild’s income has been suffering from it.”

“More alcohol for Macao’s lot, I guess.”

They shared a laugh. Opening his eyes, Natsu looked at her as she giggled. Her eyes were on the duck pond where a small cluster of the ducks of Magnolia South Gate Park were gathered, picking their lunch out of a soggy white bread loaf that some teenagers had chucked into the pond whole. Sometimes she smiled as if she was so entirely content with life. Ducks made her content, Wednesday evenings with him made her content, as did birthday parties and nights out with their friends. He hoped it didn’t mean there wasn’t room for more in their relationship. That maybe she was too content with her life as it was now for things to change.

The weight of the box in his pocket felt heavier as he watched, requiring a quick shake of the head to reset the feeling. He could only talk to her.

“Lucy.” Natsu spoke, thanking his voice for not giving out on him when it counted. She gave him her attention, smiling because there was no way she could see the anxiety bubbling inside his gut. At least that settled him a little. “If I proposed, what would you say? I already have the ring. I just need to know if that is something you would want.”

Lucy’s smile dropped into surprise. Her stare was stuck on his, and for a moment the cogs seemed to slow. But not into a stressed jutting, more into a peaceful, steady clicking.

Her smile bloomed.

“I would say yes.”

If she expected the conversation to end there, she didn’t stop him as he moved onto one knee. His hand tugged the box from the pocket of his trousers, presenting its black velvet exterior before effortlessly prizing it open. Her eyes widened as if she hadn’t realised that he had meant now, but she easily found herself settling into the pull of it.

“Lucy. You’re my best friend.” Natsu felt his cheeks ache with his broad grin. “I think you might be the best thing that ever happened to me and Happy. Even if you’re not always happy with us and we insult you sometimes. You let me take you on adventures and you make me feel comfortable because that is just what you do. You make everyone feel okay with being themselves around you. I think you’re so strong and kind and I love watching you practice your magic because you just care about your spirits, without anyone asking you to. I think it’s incredible. I love you and I want to marry you. Will you marry me?”

“Yes.” Lucy half-whispered. “Yes, I will.”

She met him on his knees, her hands clutching onto his shoulders as she kissed him over and over. “Can I put the ring on you?” He asked between pecks.

She nodded, leaning into his shoulder as he tugged the ring from its hold in the velvet. The kiss had made her breathless but the feel and sight of him slipping the ring on her left hand had the sort of butterflies she had only felt with him making her skin tingle. “Natsu, it’s beautiful.”

The ring itself was simple but vintage – not that he could spell the word – and had a round garnet set in the middle. He had chosen it by himself but at Levy’s instruction he had taken one of Lucy’s rings with him for the sizing. It was still loose by a small bit but they could get it resized no problem. Right now he was just happy it was a hit. “Gods, I would’ve been okay if you had just wanted to date instead of getting married but I’m so glad I won’t have to return the ring. The shop man was super weird.”

“Was it that shop just off the marketplace? Levy says that guy is super intense about green engagement rings and thinks everyone should have one.”

He chuckled, unaware that such a guy had existed. “No, I got it in Hargeon.”

“Oh,” She felt her blush blossom more.

“Shit, I love you.” He let out an exasperated sigh. “I was so worried you’d say no.”

“Why would I?” She had to take a second to think. “I sort of knew you were going to propose. I would have said something sooner if I didn’t want you to.”

“You knew?”

“I– yeah. I’ve been nervously rambling all afternoon. Could you not tell?” She laughed. An hour ago she was barely making it through a conversation without blurting whatever she could think about, work, and modelling and whatever. Natsu had never been one to ignore her when she felt like she was being boring but she wouldn’t have blamed him for a disinterested sound.

“Why were you nervous?” His brow had softened and he’d taken to stroking her fingers between his own wanting to listen.

“I didn’t want to accidentally ruin whatever you had planned. I don’t know, really. You can always sort of tell when a guy’s about to propose but you never know when it’ll happen.”

“Did you know with Joe?”

Lucy swallowed, nodding. “He sort of got happy whenever he was around me. And since I didn’t really want that with him I just ignored it until I couldn’t any longer.”

“But you do want this with me?”

“Yes.” She nodded harder. “I didn’t know it at the time but I broke things off with him because of you. I think you’ve always been in my heart even if it took me a while to realise it.” She didn’t let him speak. “I love you and I want this with you, more than anything.”

Natsu kissed her again, hands pressed to her cheeks to pull her in and she smiled into it. His fingers tangled into her hair and he sighed, finally content. He had everything he wanted right here and he could spend his lifetime making her happy.

#nalu #fairy tail #nalu gift exchange 2023 #nalu gift exchange #nalu fanfic #nalufanfiction #lucy heartfilia #natsu dragneel #nalu proposal

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redcruxsworld · 5 months

Text

Lavender marriage AU

A conversation before the initial date of the wedding:

Flug looked at the time, his gut churning. He didn't really expect things to go this way. Him marrying Demencia? If you went back 10 years ago to his younger self, he would have laughed if someone told him that. As he contemplated his actions that led to this marriage, his phone buzzed. It was Demencia, her text said, 'Can't sleep, you?'

He chuckled looks like she was also worried about this whole ordeal. He texted back, 'I can't either, even if I really wanted to. Do you wanna talk behind the fence?'

He got a response 3 minutes later saying, 'Yea.....', he sighed with a smile. He got up and tiptoed into the backyard. He then sat near a tin can that was connected to the other side with a red string. He pulled on it to see if Demencia was there on the other side of the fence. Sure, enough, she pulled back.

Flug: Hey, it looks like you're also worried about this...... marriage we are gonna do.

Demencia: Sure, am. Ha.... not only does it bother me that you actually are gonna marry me, but the way you proposed was a little too extravagant. Makes me fucking laugh every. Damn. Time.

Flug: Oh, c'mon, you mean you didn't like the lights, the rose petals, the gifts, the food, or the ring I got you?

Demencia laughed,

Demencia: What you kidding me? Those were the best parts! But...... can I ask you a question?

Flug: Yeah, what is it?

Demencia: Why me?

Flug: What do you mean why you?

Demencia paused for a minute.

Demencia: Why did you choose me to settle down with you?.... Out of all the girls that would have wanted to marry the great billionaire scientist, Kennings Flugslys, why was I chosen?

Flug chucked in the other end.

Flug: Well.... maybe it's because you're the only person I'm comfortable with, and I trust you. You know all of me hardships and my pains. You supported me all the way till now. So if there was someone I'd spend my life with till old age..... it would be you.

Demencia smiled and giggled.

Demencia: Well, aren't you sweet....

Flug: What about you? Why'd you say yes? I mean, you could have easily said no, but you didn't. Why?

Demecia: Same reason, and I also don't really feel like there is someone else that I would actually date anyway. It's not like I don't get asked on a date, but I just don't feel it with other people, you know?

Flug and Demencia chuckled.

Flug: I see... so see you at the altar? With your mermaid style wedding dress? And thousand dollar worth of jewellery? Hahahaha....

Demencia: Pfttt......Yeah, I'll see you. Make sure to put your in a slick back style. Makes you look cooler, to be honest.

With that, both set down the tin cans and called it a night. Now they both feel a bit lighter about what's to come tomorrow. It will truly be a special day for both of them and their friends and families.

#villainous #dr flug #dr kenning flugslys #villainous demencia #demencia #villainous fanfic #my au #lavender marriage au

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doodle-pops · 5 months

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Mina, did you ever write about courting? Like what does it entail? I know it's more serious than dating, but I'm having trouble defining it. Since elves court, would they still go on dates? If so, what kind of dates? The term "courting" sounds so proper. I'm a very laid-back person, the 'let's see what happens' kind, and courting just sounds rigid and structured. I'd love some help understanding it better if you have a chance to explain.

I’ve gotten for marriages and betrothal, so this is my first courtship question. Tolkien didn’t go into detail about courtship in LaCE compared to marriages, however, given his religious background and how thorough betrothal and marriages were between elves, you can find a linkage and consider courtship to be serious as well.

I would consider elven courtship to bear similarities (not all) to traditional courtship during the older era (Victorian, Edwardian, etc). Chaperones were a common thing and existed among upper-class families. However, I had never come across this existing in any text when Tolkien mentioned the elves courting, so it is safe to say that chaperones weren't a thing elves had during courtship due to their lack of desire to be naughty 😉.

The courtship between the elves was also an act that both individuals agreed to since marriage was always the end goal for each other and feelings were an essential part because they would court their soulmate (no playing around, or sorting feelings out as they go). It was rare for an elf to break things off. The only example we had was Findulias breaking off her courtship with Gwindor to be with Turin. So the act was serious and not something to play around with like some people do in modern times 😒.

Most courtships involved going on dates such as walks, lunch/dinner, to the theatre, picnics, visitations to the house, garden parties, singing songs, writing poetry, etc. It was important to note that during traditional courtship, advance notice was considered the polite form of announcing one's plans instead of randomly showing up since families would have personal time to themselves.

Gifts were also exchanged between couples to symbolise that both parties were taken/involved. Letters, poetry, songs, jewellery, and clothing were some of the gifts exchanged between couples. Furthermore, they would be gifted an item to be publicly worn, symbolising that both individuals were involved with the other; a necklace, hairpin or ring with their sigil.

Romantic gestures in the form of physical affection were also allowed. A kiss to the hand (the most respectful greeting), forehead, cheeks and lips was granted. Making out would be indecorous in public since physical affection wasn’t something the elves practiced openly, so behind closed doors should a couple wish to share a passionate kiss. Privacy would also be a thing, so entering each other's sleeping quarters with supervision or permission would be required.

That’s as much as I could propose elven courtships to contain due to Tolkien's fixation on marriage. Hope this was helpful!

For info on other topics: Info Corner

#tolkien elves #elves #elves and lace

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mariemarieohcontrary · 1 year

Text

Proposals | Weddings (@choicesjunechallenge, @liaromancewriter)

I love making portraits cause they just could turn out really gorgeous when done right and I figured why not do a Royal Wedding portrait?

Okay but wedding-wise I know Ana de Luca designed the gown but I could imagine Evangeline politely declining her and while complimenting the gown Ana designed, she'd make it a point to want to honour her motherland as in she'd either buy a Maria Clara style wedding gown or commission one to be made by a Filipino designer. With help from her cousin, they find a small business seamstress to make the gown and it was a simple design save for the flower embroidery.

Evangeline doesn't wear any jewellery beyond her grandmother's necklace and also refuses pearls and also asks that pearls not be gifted to her and Liam. (There's a superstition that pearls at the wedding would lead to a marriage filled with tears).

Also while it would be Bertrand who walks Evangeline down the aisle, it's her older cousin, Ethan, who does the equivalent of a father-daughter dance with her.

I'll be posting a bunch of wedding hcs for Evangeline and Liam IS2G.

Want to commission me? Click the Source!❤️

#choices fandom #choices game #choices the royal romance #choices trr #play choices #playchoices #the royal romance #trr fandom #choices fanart #mariemarieohcontrary #trr fanart #trr: evangeline lakandula #trr riley #king liam #trr liam #liam rys #marh art

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101flavoursofweird · 1 month

Note

3 for any PL character for the Angsty Sentence Starters?

((I’m sorry this took FOREVER, but thanks for the prompt…))

Spoilers: For Miracle Mask and light spoiler for Azran Legacy

Title: Rewritten

Description: Randall proposes. Angela gets cold feet.

Set: Two years after MM.

Warnings: Rejected marriage proposal, Angela’s controlling parents, Randall’s disapproving father, referenced character death… but a hopeful ending?

Inspiration: The prompt “We just don’t work anymore.” —With Randall/Angela (The winners of the ‘Which ship should almost break up?’ Poll) Also, Rewrite the Stars from the Greatest Showman

Two years since Randall’s return, Angela had been wearing her pendant less and less often, leaving it safely locked inside her jewellery box.

It wasn’t as though she no longer cared for Randall’s gift… but she had kept that coin close to her heart every single day that she and Randall had been separated.

After her wedding with Henry, she had strung the coin into a pendant and hidden it beneath her pearl necklace if she went out in public.

The pendant was like a secret promise— Angela would look after Randall’s treasure, while Henry looked after her, and they would wait for Randall together.

Marriage had never truly been part of the arrangement— merely a show to appease Angela’s parents— but now…

Now that Randall was back, Angela really needed to return that treasure or do… something to complete her promise.

When she finally went to retrieve the pendant from her jewellery box, however, Angela released a distraught gasp.

Her pendant— Randall’s gift— was gone!

She hunted high and low around the mansion. Henry assured her the pendant would turn up soon and no, he hadn’t moved it while he was cleaning…

Retracing her steps around town with Alphonse and his dogs’ aid didn’t yield any success either.

Angela doubted she would have just dropped her most precious keepsake…

It was possible someone had pinched it— but why Angela’s pendant, of all things?

There were far more valuable treasures in the mansion or Henry’s study at the Reunion Inn…

Though, the pendant did hold sentimental value, if only to Angela, Henry and Randall.

Randall… Angela feared he would be devastated when he learned that the pendant was lost— after all those years she had taken care of it— but much to her surprise, Randall winked at her and told her not to worry.

Then… the very next evening at dinner, Randall presented her with a small black box.

They were eating a meal at home— not out in Monte d’Or— but Angela suddenly felt like the eyes of the world were fixed upon her.

A proud, expectant smile transformed Mrs. Ascot’s face. Henry, who had stood up from the table to gather their plates, stopped to watch with bated breath— as if every move he’d made since leaving Stansbury had led to this moment.

As Angela opened the box with trembling fingers, she pondered (prayed) if this could be another treasure from Randall, or a magic trick…

Her stomach roiled with dread, though, when she saw the ring.

It was beautiful; with an opal set in its centre ( Her brother’s birth stone …) and a gold band fashioned from the coin Randall had given her twenty years ago.

Angela’s breath hitched.

She could picture her parents’ reactions— How pleased they would be to hear about Angela’s proper marriage, at long last!—and Mr. Ascot’s frown; disapproving, as he had been with most of Randall’s choices.

If Mr. Ascot was still with them, maybe he would have forbidden any nuptials from proceeding. Secretly, Angela would have been grateful to him.

There was no need to restrain her tears— at leastthose could be written off as joy— but she needed to work past the knot in her throat. She needed to say something to Randall.

He was watching her with wide dark eyes, his mouth slightly open in question, his hands still frozen where he had offered her the box.

“I…” Angela spluttered. She picked the treasure out of the box— maybe she was wrong, maybe it was another piece of jewellery— and she nearly dropped it, her hands were so slick with sweat.

“Whoa!” Randall chuckled as he caught the ring— it was definitely a ring.

When Angela stared at him, he had to ask:

“Angela… Will you marry me?”

“…Yes.” She pushed the answer from her throat like a stone. A stone that fell into a river that swept Angela up in the wave of applause from Mrs. Ascot and Henry.

Angela clung to Randall as he kissed her passionately, lovingly, with tender relief.

“May I…?” he breathed, lifting her hand. Dizzily, Angela nodded. He slipped the ring onto her fourth finger, where it fit perfectly…

Like a manacle.

After dessert and champagne and a toast from Mrs. Ascot, Angela excused herself and retreated up to her… her and Randalls’ bedroom.

Angela gently removed the ring and placed it on the windowsill, where it glittered in the distant lights of Monte d’Or.

Inside the ring was an engraving which, according to Randall, roughly translated to: ‘My heart will beat for you until the stars burn out’…

A romantic notion— or a morbid one, especially with the true nature of the Azran legacy in mind.

When Hershel had grudgingly informed them about his globe-trotting expedition, Angela had hoped Randall would renounce everything related to the Azran, but… no.

Archaeology would always be a pastime to Randall, even if he had sworn off dangerous adventures and dedicated himself to rebuilding/running Monte d’Or.

Angela was still destined to be an archaeologist’s wife, to some degree…

“Angie?” Randall’s call at her— their— bedroom door was soft, hesitant.

Whirling away from the window, Angela shoved the ring back on her finger. “Y-you can come in!” Would he hear the reluctance in her voice?

Just to be safe, Angela put on bright smile as Randall poked his head into the room. His hair looked rumpled (Another haircut was due soon— Henry could help with that…) and his cheeks were flushed.

“You okay?” Randall checked, with a wide grin.

Angela nodded. “Yes, I just… needed a minute.”

“Were you blown away by my ring-crafting skills?”

“A little…” Angela felt her smile flicker.

Noticing the tiredness in her voice, Randall started to retract his head. “I can… come back later if you want?”

The opportunity was there; he was willing to give her time and space to process this. Angela could head to bed early, Randall would join her later, she would pretend to be asleep, and they could discuss this tomorrow...

Or Angela could stop waiting, for once in her life.

“No, it… it’s fine.” Angela reached out to him. “I need to talk to you…”

Away from your mother and Henry, she added silently.

Randall got the message. He shut the door, shuffled towards her and took her hands.

“Randall…” Angela sighed. His palms were warm and calloused in hers, concealing the ring between them. “I’m not… sure if I’m ready for this…”

Randall hesitated for a second, before he squeezed her hands. “That’s alright! I’m nervous too!” He glanced out the window, probably towards the register office. “It’ll take us a while to organise everything— maybe over a year…”

(Not if Henry had anything to do with it.)

“No—“ Angela swallowed as Randall looked back at her. She stammered, “I mean, I’m… I’m not ready to be engaged yet. I can’t accept your proposal.”

Twenty years ago, when she had turned down Alphonse Dalston in favour of Henry, Alphonse had met with her afterwards.

This whole marriage thing had been his family’s idea, Alphonse had snorted. No offence to Angela, but he wanted to go to uni to study hotel management, and he’d rather not be dragging a Mrs around with him!

For the first time since Randall’s departure, Angela had laughed.

Alphonse had known she was still grieving and he’d accepted her rejection with grace— far more grace than anyone had ever given him credit for.

It had been such a relief for Angela in her darkest hour. She may have lost Randall, but she’d still had (some) friends left.

Although Alphonse and Henry hadn’t seen eye to eye, they had put her feelings first.

Surely the man she loved would do the same? Now that they were all safely home, the Azran were history, and there wasn’t an urgent incentive to get hitched…

These past few moments, Randall had been peering at Angela with shock. Sadness, disappointment and a touch of anger soon followed across his face.

Earlier, he must have felt like he was on cloud nine… only for Angela to bring him crashing down.

“But…” Randall exhaled slowly. “I thought… when you changed your name—“

“Back to Redoll.” Her maiden name, even if she was no longer a maiden.

At thirty-seven, she should have been thrilled that the person she had cherished since childhood had proposed to her…

“—When you called your parents,” Randall recalled, with difficulty. “Didn’t you tell them…?”

“I told them… you were home,” Angela admitted, “and I told them I was ‘divorcing’ Henry, so they assumed—“

“Like I assumed,” Randall muttered. He dropped her hands.

“I’m sorry! I know— I should have been clearer with you…”

“You should have —“ Randall cut off whatever he had been about to say. Clenching his jaw, shaking his head, he surged around the room.

Angela watched as he slumped onto the bed.

Perhaps, if Angela had just kept quiet, if she had been jubilant like a normal bride-to-be, they could have been lying together right now…

Randall chucked off his glasses. He groaned. “Maybe… I should have asked you… before I went and proposed.” He blinked up at Angela. “I just… I thought we were on the same page?”

Actually, it was more like he had skipped a hundred pages— years of tedium and heartache— to reach the happy ending.

Everyone was still bringing Randall up to speed… but Angela hadn’t quite caught up either.

Randall had written his own a book— casting himself as a brave king, Henry as a traitorous minister, and Angela as a mournful princess/queen who had been tricked.

It turned out, however, that the minister and the princess/queen had remained loyal to the king… even after the king had tried to destroy their city.

In the end— and in Randall’s mind— the princess/queen was still expected to marry the king, no questions asked.

How could Angela explain that?

She silently shrugged to Randall.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Randall exclaimed,

“It’s been two years since… since I tried to…” When he opened his eyes again, Angela saw tears. “Is it because of what I did?”

“Of course not—!”

“Don’t lie to me, Angela— please…”

“It is… partly,” Angela conceded with a sigh. “But it’s not just—“

“What can I do?” Randall begged, stumbling away from the bed. “How can I make it up to you?”

He looked ready to climb a mountain or capture the stars, all for her.

Already, he had done so much. She had forgiven him within the first year.

But this wasn’t about forgiveness.

Angela shook her head.

“Tell me!” Randall returned to her side. Grabbed her hands once again. “Whatever it takes to redeem myself—“

“I’m not a reward for your redemption, Randall,” she pointed out, quietly.

“I know that— now…” Randall’s voice broke.

Angela squeezed his hands. “It’s not fair of me to hold you to that standard,” Angela intoned, “and it’s not fair of you to expect that of me— to live with the prospect of marriage looming over my head…”

Since the day her brother had left, she had lived with nothing but expectations.

When are you going to find a boyfriend?

When are you going to get married?

When are you going to have children?

Never ending. Never enough. Never, for a moment, asking what Angela wanted.

She had found some reprieve when Henry asked for her hand in marriage— she had staved off her parents’ demands for a few years— but now it was starting again.

Henry hadn’t had her best interests at heart when he offered her that choice— well, he had, but not Angela’s alone. He had made that proposal with the intention that he and Angela would wait for Randall together…

And, when the time came, Angela would return to Randall. Like the fortune from Akbadain, or the rights to the city.

Like nothing had changed since Angela was a teenager.

She was her brother’s bereaved little sister. Her parents’ precious daughter. Randall’s kind, boring girlfriend. Henry’s beautiful, reserved wife. Randall’s reluctant fiancé…

She could never just be Angela, could she?

“Do you understand, Randall?” Angela whispered, gazing into his eyes.

Randall sniffed, nodding slightly. Then he nodded again, stronger.

Sighing, Angela let him go. “It’s time I gave this back to you…” She removed the ring— his coin, his gift she had carried for twenty years— and placed it in Randall’s palm.

Randall stared at it for a moment. “If… If I had asked you before I left for the ruins,” Randall mumbled, “would you have said yes— back then?”

“Yes…”

After her brother’s disappearance, after their family nearly went bankrupt searching for him, Angela’s parents had been determined to marry her off as soon as she came of age.

If she had to marry, then she would have made the choice herself. She would have chosen the bright-eyed boy who treated everyone as an equal, who could take Angela far away from Stansbury, who could talk her ear off about archaeology…

Even if her parents didn’t agree. Even if Mr. Ascot didn’t approve of the girl whose brother had perished in the Akbadain ruins…

“Yes,” Angela said again. “I would have chosen you, because I grew up with you and I loved you—“

“You did,” Randall choked out.

“I do,” she amended. “But I’m… still getting to know this version of you, who I’ve only known for two years…”

She let out a tearful sigh. “And I’m… still finding things out about myself… I suppose, what I need is more time.”

“I owe you that time, after everything…” Randall slipped the ring into his pocket. Angela wondered if he would save it for her, or if he would give it to someone else…

“You don’t owe me anything,” Angela assured him. “And you mustn’t wait for me… ”

“Will you let me know,” Randall murmured, “if you change your mind?”

“Of course.”

Then, she embraced him not as her fiancé, but as her first love.

Angela wasn’t sure if Randall Ascot would be her last love — for as long as they both should live— but she would always love him.

She would love what they had been… what could have been… and, perhaps someday, what they had become.

But first, there was someone she had to find.

“Good afternoon, this is Hershel Layton speaking. How might I be of assistance?”

Gentlemanly as ever…

Angela smiled down the phone. “Ciao, Hershel!”

“Oh, Angela…! ” Hershel’s formal voice filled with warmth. “Are you, per chance, in Italy?”

“Correct!” (No doubt, Randall had contacted him already…) “Right now I’m staying with my parents…”

When she trailed off, Hershel asked, “I hope you’re having a good time?”

“It’s been— good to catch up with them, and straighten some things out, but…” Angela glanced over her shoulder, even though she doubted her parents would hear.

Hershel prompted. “But?”

“…I won’t be staying for much longer,” Angela murmured. “I’ll be leaving soon— on my own…”

“ I see,” Hershel said, with understanding. “Are Randall and Henry aware?”

“They might suspect, but they don’t know where I’m going.” (She wasn’t sure yet either.) Angela sighed. “I just… wanted to give you a heads-up, before they asked for your help tracking me down…”

There was no judgement in Hershel’s tone. “Do you know how long you’ll be gone for?”

“Not forever— a couple of months, maybe.” How ever long it took to rediscover oneself. “But I will come back… ”

For a few moments, Hershel was quiet, considering.

Angela thought she heard a baby babbling somewhere in the background. Right— hadn’t he taken in a little girl, along with Flora and Alfendi?

(She really hoped he was happy, after everything …)

Then Hershel breathed, “If you ever find yourself in a spot of trouble— or simply need a listening ear— you will call, won’t you?”

“I will,” Angela promised, just as she had promised Randall and Henry. She brushed away a tear. “Goodbye, Hershel…”

Goodbye, Angela Redoll.

Hello… Angela.

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