#she was a very good cake decorator

[jusiri]

birthday cake for me :)

[freak60000]

idk if we can say apex mobile images confirm anything but i KNEW the legends had a holiday potluck. IIIIII knew it . infodump —vvv

[venmondiese]

LITTLE BOX FULL OF SURPRISES

masterlist ✧works in procress ✧ AO3

based on this request⭑.ᐟ

-ˋˏsummary: The maimed one-eyed prince marries the most beautiful woman on earth. She is dutiful, beautiful and perfect, but Aemond can't stand when someone, specially his uncle, look with desire at what it is his. ✧Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Tully!Original Female Character ✧word count: 3.1k ✧Warnings: : MDNI 18+, p in v sex, dom/sub undertones, face slapping, spitting on the mouth, degradation kink, possesive Aemond, Aemond is WHIPPED by his wife.

Every time his grandsire and his mother spoke of a Lady of great beauty coming to King’s landing, he rolled his eye. 

Even when they present a small portrait, small to fit his palm, he does not seem impressed. Perhaps it is too small, perhaps it is too pretentious. Either the painter exaggerated your features or he couldn’t properly paint a small portrait. But he was curious, after all. Named the most beautiful woman on earth, blessed by the Gods. 

He doesn’t doubt that Lady Tully was beautiful. Perhaps she was truly a beautiful woman, with her long red hair, ‘like fire’ said the letter. But being called The Maiden on Earth seems exaggerated to him.

His grandsire had told them about the implications of his betrothal, about how important it was to have secured the Riverlands, since Grover Tully was an old lord, and will not understand reason. To have his most beloved granddaughter as a princess, was the only way to win his approval, and support. 

Aemond finally meets her on the little garden near the Weirwood tree. They had been serving little cakes, as some lords and ladies talked nearby, not even half of court was here, and he liked the quietness. That made him less self-conscious.

She was near the table, her hand hovering above all the treats she could get, smiling as she watches them with interest. She is expressive, he realises. He hasn’t seen her face, only her back and the day her hand moves and her head is tilted, curious about the southern gastronomy.

 “My lady” Aemond says softly. 

She turns so gracefully, and she is surprised to see him. Her hand still extended, and she quickly moves it to grab her skirts, and do a courtesy to him. She has a sweet smile, and she speaks. 

 “My prince” she says, a bit surprised. “I… I didn’t expect you.”

“I must admit I came a bit earlier than agreed…” he murmurs, looking behind him and then back to her.

The most beautiful maiden on earth fell short to her. She was… something else, in the best way possible. She had that curiosity, that life in her eyes, as she smiles at him, her lips are perfect, and he could see that her maids probably used those Myrish lip taints, for they were a very natural red colour, almost matching with her hair. Her dress was magnificent, wearing the colour of her house, red and blue decorating everything. Even her eyes, blue like the opaque blue rivers in the Riverlands, and her hair, red like flames, matched with her house colours. She wore fish details, her earrings and in her dress pattern. But she was wearing a collar with a seven pointed star in it, and he sighed at her beauty. She was breathtaking.

“Oh, well, so it seems…” she says as she smiles a bit sheepishly, looking at him. “It’s a fine castle, my prince. It does have its own beauty.” 

Aemond has never thought of the red Keep as something beautiful, at all. He always wanted to live in Dragonstone, but his wish was not granted.  But, if she says so, it must be true, and with good reason.

“You think so?” 

She grabs a lemon cake, and eats it carefully as she nods. “Yes! And you also have a Weirwood tree here. When we made our trip here, we passed through Raventree, and their Weirwood was a bit… depressing…” she says, smiling sweetly. “But here it’s very beautiful. More… alive”

As she talks, he watches her closely. Even when his mother, his sickly father and his siblings arrive, when his mother gives him a scolding look for arriving earlier, he sort of watches you in silence, his chest swelling with an air of mystery. 

“You are not what I expected” he admits, quietly between the two of them as their parents talked about the betrothal.

“No?” She asks smiling, licking her finger from the cream of the lemon cakes. “You’ll see I’m a little box full of surprises” 

That’s the beginning.

A ceremony on the Sept, as she stood next to him, reciting vows and the cloak with dragon sigils is on her shoulders, left behind the fish one. Aemond has never looked so smug and proud. The bedding ceremony was… traditional. Having a crowd was awkward for both, surely, but Aemond made it all more comfortable for her, covering her body with his, and not exposing her, at his own expense.

“Just focus on me” He murmurs closely to her face, as she looks at him with wide eyes. He was between her open legs, and he insisted for her to keep her chemise on, while he had no problem in nudity “Your septa and mother could have told you…”

“Not much” She whispers back.

“Not much” he repeats, moving a strand of hair out other face, tenderly watching her face for discomfort. “But I will be gentle, and… we’ll learn together. Yes?”

“Yes. Thank you…, husband” she says, and he feels a prideful pressure on his chest. He was her husband. The most beautiful woman’s husband. 

And she was always thankful for his patience and gentleness towards her, and she stuck to him to all times, even when she was in court, charming everyone around. Her arm was always interlocked with his, and referred to him as ‘her sweet husband’. 

Love came quieter than expected, as they laughed on their bed at nights, having picnics in the gardens or going to the Riverlands in Vhagar together, swimming on Riverrun’s rivers, and just… enjoying each other. It was more than love when they had their first son, a lovely and happy baby, mismatched eyes, with both purple and a deep blue. Aemond adored his son, his little Daerion, and he adored you more.

“Black looks well on you” Aemond comments. 

Daerion’s blabbing was a way to agree with Aemond’s statement as the maid finished putting on her headband, the same tone of her dress. Her orange hair is in braids, two simple ones with some gold details on them, and some dragon earrings that he gifted her. She was gorgeous, and all his. 

“Your wardrobe hasn’t changed” she states looking at him. “Went from velvet black to dark black” 

Aemond walks over to his wife, watching her being just so beautiful like that, sitting, waiting peacefully like a porcelain doll.

“Mhm... As if changing colours would make everything amicable…” Aemond murmurs, taking Daerion in his arms, and he allows him to play with his hair. “Does father know it’s useless? Rhaenyra wearing green won’t change anything, nor will my mother wearing black. HIs voice comes as a grunt as he bounces their baby. 

“It’s foolish when you put it that way” her voice is tender, sweet, and somewhat like velvet. He is still besotted by her, as maidens do with knights. He watches the shape of her breasts on that dress, how the cleavage is so delightful for his eyes and the roundness of her tits that make the fabric around stretch a bit. As if the tailor always got the measurement of her chest wrong on purpose, which he won’t complain about. 

Her bright red hair contrasts with how the black makes her skin look paler, and her eye colour deeper.

“They shouldn’t call you the Maiden herself anymore” Aemond murmurs softly, walking closer to her, still holding Daerion in his arms. “You are like the mother herself. Like the Goddess Syrax of Old Valyria. Beautiful, strong… so alluring…”

“You never seem to run out of compliments” her hands move to grab her rings, and the one he likes the most is the sapphire one, just to symbolise her marriage to him. 

“Never, more so if a goddess like you is my wife. All mine…”

“My prince, my lady.” It’s a Kings guard who interrupts. “Supper is ready, and Queen Alicent asks for you both to arrive earlier…”

“Hm” Aemond says, leaving Daerion in the wet nurse’s arms.

“Thank you, ser Willis” the knight smiles at his wife before walking to wait outside the door.

He rolls his eye as he leans to kiss his son’s forehead, caressing his chubby cheek and he smiles fondly at his sight. The little freckles he has that he inherited from his mother, something that Aemond loved. Yet remembering how unnecessary kind his wife is… annoys him.

Kindness and sweetness only helped to enhance her beauty and popularity, and he also loved that. She was beautiful, perfect in any way, tied to a One-Eyed maimed monster, like him. All he could offer to you, that it was worthy, was the luxuries of the royalty, all the kids you want and his unconditional love. He was at your mercy.

He has one eye, but he is not blind. Any man here on the keep, would pull their breeches down if his wife asked so. They would even cut their own throats for her mere delight, and Aemond would be one of them. 

“Goodbye, my sweet love” the sweet motherly tone makes little Daerion squeal happily, extending his little arms for his mother. She kisses both his hands, later to wave to him as they leave the room, arms interlocked.

Aemond always bites his tongue when his lady wife is kind to men. He hates it, yet he knows she does it for the kindness of her heart, and not any ulterior motives.

He was smitten for her, moving the chair for her to sit, and helping her, her dress not getting stuck anywhere or her headpiece, and only then, he sat on his own seat at peace.

“I heard they might have some goose” she murmurs to him, as the room fills. Her fingers caress his arm, and he hears her every word. “I’d eat it all if I could, you know” she teases.

“Mhm.” Aemond murmurs. Even if he is besotted, his facade is still the same; stoic, cold, distant. Yet to her, his gaze was always loving.

“I would only share it with you” she states proudly, leaning to give him a peck on the lips, before standing up once the King is brought to the room.

As he stands, he doesn’t miss how his uncle watches her. Aemond might not know the man personally, but he knew the look of desire in a man’s face. Much more when they looked at her 

The supper is mostly… tense, and awkward. But Lady Tully is charming to everyone and even toasts as well for Baela and Rhaena in their betrothal, congratulating them and speaking nothing but wonders about her own married life, making Aemond wear the slightest, yet most smug smirk on his face.

“Amazing” she says, with her mouth full as she eats the goose, and Aemond nods, a hand rubbing her back so she doesn’t choke for eating so quickly. “Here, my love” she says, extending the fork with a bit of the goose that she adores so much. 

Aemond eats shamelessly, enjoying the taste as he nods softly, approving, which makes her smile. His hand resting on the back of her chair, as he drank his wine quietly, watching his sister and nephew go to dance together. He is highly unaware of the prying eyes that watch them both.

Helaena and Jacaerys’ giggles and the movement of her dress is enough for lady Tully to watch curiously. Her husband was not one for dances, as he had not a good perception of objects with one eye. She never pressured him, and accepted the fact. 

She always would say how Daerion once he would be tall enough to walk, she’d dance with her son all the songs and dances, and Aemond approved that idea. 

“Lady Tully” It was Daemon Targaryen’s deep voice, and she looks at him a bit surprised, leaving her fork on the table as she covers her mouth, her hand unconsciously fetching wine, which Aemond hands her his. 

“Prince Daemon” her melodic voice is a bit confused, and more so when the uncle of her husband extends his hand. The green fabrics from his suit are deep, yet he still wore dragon details on it, and he looked smug about it.

She turns to watch Aemond, his jaw tensing as he looks at Daemon. And he has to physically stop himself from cutting his uncle’s throat when his wife walks with him to join Helaena and the bastard. Aegon and he share a look, both upset and annoyed, as their wives are so freely dancing with other men. 

Aemond watches her beautiful face, frowning as Daemon talks about something, whispering it closely so no one else hears it. His grip on the edge of his seat is strong; knuckles’ turning white as his jaw is tense, not looking pleased at all. And then, he hears her warm laugh, giggling at what he said, as her whole face brightened up.

Once they serve the pig in front of him and hear the little bastard giggles, it is enough to send him through a fit of rage. 

He literally drags his wife by the arm after everything went downhill, after saying that stupid toast, after the Velaryon’s boys attempt to defend themselves (very badly) and both her husband and her good brother humiliate them.

“Dancing with him” Aemond murmurs, walking to their shared chambers, not minding seeing the servants stop and look at them both. “Accepting it, and giggling to his jokes as he shamelessly flirts with you” 

“It was politeness...” her voice is weak when protesting.

“Did he mocked me for having only one eye?” He asks roughly. “Did he told you how beautiful your are and how full your breasts are?”

She opens her mouth a bit taken aback by his lewds remarks. “I am dutiful to what it’s expected of me. I wouldn't have allowed him to mock you”

“You should…”

“My family’s words are Family. Duty. Honour. And you know I care for that very deeply.” she says as she tries to keep up with his long steps “And I did just what was asked…”

“You are mine” he states, walking inside his chambers as his grip does nothing but become stronger. “My wife and you are… putting yourself in display for my uncle, laughing at his flirting. I know your family words are important for you, but this is… beyond that”

Perhaps it was her confused eyes or her angelic face, but he loosened up his grip yet he kept talking. 

“He wanted you! To have you below him and fuck you like a… wench or… or some kind of…”

“I know” 

Aemond turns drastically, eye twitching at his wife's words.

“You knew?”

“It was being cordial. It was duty. To amend broken ties…”

“I will break and burn and turn into ashes any ties from you to him” he says exasperated, insane with jealousy. His eye is wide, twitching in rage as he cannot believe this. She was his wife. 

Seeing Daemon’s hand grip on her hip, almost groping her, made him insane. Because he knew that Lady Tully, beautiful as the Maiden, a beloved goddess amongst the poor and rich, could do so much better than him. Yet, she still chooses him.

“Get naked” he says simply.

“What?”

“You heard me just right. Get. Naked.” He says again, not wanting a negative. 

Her whine is endearing, as she starts taking off little by little. Her gown, the diminutive buttons at the back, her collar, and her hellish headpiece.

“Let me” he grumbles as he helps her take off the headpiece, tossing it aside more carefully.

She is possibly the most beautiful when she is naked. Round breasts, even fuller thanks to lactating, and her body was tempting enough to anyone. 

“Undress me” he says instead. He took delight when she was the one serving him, in this way. He loved to see her desperation, her eagerness for him. His jerkin is out in no time, and she kneels to undo his breeches.

Because she had an angelic face, but it was only he who knew how obsessed she was with his cock. She could spend hours lying on the bed, sucking his cock as she rested her head on his abdomen as Aemond read. She wouldn’t even suck him off properly, his wife would only suck the tip, give kitten licks, and lazily press some kisses. During hours and hours. 

“I forbid you to speak to any one of them. Ever again” 

Confused eyes turned up to look at him, as the careful hands undid his breeches, almost a bit eagerly. “Forbid?”

“Hm. It’s what I said, is it not?” He says, narrowing his eye as if asking to be defied. 

“But it’s mad” she protests, frowning. “I promised Jace and Baela a tour in the gardens, and it would be impolite if I didn’t spoke-”

“Too bad” his voice cuts the conversation, and he is not leaving it up for conversation. 

“You are being irrational...”

“And you are being a fucking brat” he spats, grabbing her chin as he bites his lower lip. “I’ll show you how irrational I can get”

Her eyes watched him, almost too innocent for her own good. It made him hard; he could feel his cock stirring on his untied breeches. 

“Fucking slut, giving yourself to other men” his tone is harsh, but by the way her knees move, to accommodate the weight as he grips her chin, he knows that she is aroused. So is he.

Lady Tully was beautiful, and a box of surprises with everything, he realised with time. He had everyone trapped under her charms, and kept her secrets very private. And he loved it.

“Whore.”  His hand leaves her chin, only to move it to slap her across the face. 

She gasps, her face turned. It wasn’t harsh, yet the sting was burning on her skin, as she placed a hand on her cheek. To foreign eyes, he just slapped his wife. But he has done it before, to her request. Aemond knew that if his wife was enraged by that, he would have been beaten over and over, because she was kind, but didn’t stand for people dishonouring her. 

Aemond, more gently places his hand back on her chin, pulling it so she can look at him. “You will learn your place” Aemond says, as she looks up at him, with those meek eyes of hers. He loved her eyes. “Open your mouth”

 He leaned down, his mouth opening over hers, so near that she could feel his hot breath. His hand goes to wrap the bright red hair of hers, and his firm grip got her head secured. 

Perhaps Aemond would kiss those perfect lips, yet he pulled back and released a strand of saliva directly into her waiting mouth. Aemond’s fingers tightened the grip in her hair, as his other hand came up to wipe away the excess of spit. 

“There is my good girl” he murmurs, looking at her. “Mhm. I’m going to teach you a lesson” 

Aemond lifts his wife to her feet as if she weighs nothing, his grip on her hair almost dragging her to the bed, forcefully as he heard her little whines. He had a moment or two to decide which position suited best, for then to grab her hips and guide her to be on her hands and knees. He grabs the long red hair once again, angling her head to the side, because Aemond needed to see her face the same way he needed air.

She was soaking wet, and that is a satisfaction for her husband. Aemond accommodated behind her, watching her body as he positioned his cock at her entrance.

 “Such a sweet little cunt” he growls, his eye flashing with lust and desire as he thrusts into her from behind, in one swift motion. 

Her whimpers and pants are loud, as she grips on the sheets as her back is arched. She was desperate to be filled and fucked, not something unusual. The unusual thing was that… nothing happened.

“Aemond” She whines, moving her head to watch him from above her shoulder. She had that desperate, pitiful appearance that he loved.

“Yes, my love?” He asks almost nonchalantly, watching her ass, and how his cock is fully sank inside her 

She can barely think straight as his dick is deep inside her, throbbing in her walls as she just needs him to start fucking her. “Eh… move?”

“I don’t think so” he murmurs, his hand moving to caress her ass to his liking. “You’ll have to fuck yourself on my cock” His wife opens her mouth, confused as her eyebrows frown in hesitation. “Show me how much you need me” he says simply, he was fucking teasing her. “How much you need my cock”

Feeling the thick length of Aemond’s cock inside her, she accommodates on her hands, slowly moving away just to sink down onto his cock again. Her slick walls gripping him tightly as she impales herself on his thick cock. 

“Aemond… Fu-uck, you feel… oh, yes…” She whimpers, and her voice is filled with pleasure as her pussy starts getting pounded as she liked so much. If Lady Tully liked something in life, was probably getting fucked until her mind is mush.  

Her hips start moving on their own accord, as she grips on the sheets, trying to keep a stable posture to move her hips better, as her moans are obscenely loud, trying to get his cock deeper and deeper. Aemond leaves a groan, watching how she sinks down on his cock, and it is an image that would make any man cum in seconds. He truly was the luckiest man ever. 

He feels the fire in his stomach tighten, as her moans grew more and more delighted to the feeling of his cock pounding into her. At first, she had thought of it as promiscuous, and asked the maiden for forgiveness, but gods damn her if it wasn’t the best thing in life to get a good fuck from the love of her life.

“So responsive when getting a cock in your needy pussy” Aemond mutters, as one of his hands raises to spank her ass, the sharp slap only serves for the sounds coming out of her mouth to increase, and he spanks her again, and again, and again, to his own amusement and delight. 

“Please, Aemond…” 

“You just love misbehaving with me, because you know I will put you in your place” he says, moving forward to her body to grip his hair with his right hand, his left goes right next to her hand gripping the sheets to hold his weight. “Because you are a needy whore” he states, gripping her hair as she nods forcefully. 

“Yes” she says, in that whiny tone of hers. He knows her reactions yet every time they aroused him even more. “Yes, please”

The grip on her hair only serves to help him push her back against his cock, his hips now making the effort to start properly pounding into her cunt as she loved; hard, rough and at a deliciously good pace. Her body is practically numb as he starts to use her body for his own pleasure, just as she loved.

Who would have said that the most beautiful woman on earth loved being used by her husband? Definitely not him. She was the most perfect creature, in any way. Smart, funny, pretty, a good wife and mother. And yet she always craved his cock, like the filthiest whores of Flea Bottom. 

“Let those bastards hear you, hm?” He asks, as he leans to speak lowly near her ear. “How it’s your husband who pleases you. Perhaps my uncle will get the notion that you are mine. Only mine. Fucking mine. That fucking dodderer will die by my hand if he ever dares to lay his eyes on you” 

The mere thought infuriates him, making his hips slam into her harder and more feral. Rutting into her cunt in an animalistic pace as he has to clench his jaw in rage. His hand on her hair and the other on her waist, he groans at the feeling of her soaking cunt. 

The sobs he hears as his cock keeps on pounding into her sweet spot, makes him smug enough, and even more aroused. His sweet lady wife, so prone to cry when she had too much pleasure when she got overwhelmed with lust. 

“Please, please…” the round of pleas comes up with her tears, and Aemond moans, shamelessly, as he was so close. “I can’t t-take i-it… anymo-ore” 

“Oh, you will” he says through gritted teeth as he lets go of her hair, only for his other hand to go to her shoulder to help her get his dick deeper. “I will breed you. Cum so deep that my seed takes root, and everyone will know who you belong to.” 

Her nods between sobs, pleas and trembling legs help him pound in feral thrusts into her, feeling her cunt already milking him, inner walls attempting to squeeze his dick inside and never let it go.

“Cum for me, my love” he murmurs, still fucking her deep and nice how she likes it. “My beautiful wife” he murmurs, besotted by her as she cries, her tears rolling down her rosy cheeks with little freckles that he adored. 

The little spasms of her body, her wails and the way her cunt squeezes him, it’s enough to drive him to the edge, holding her body down into his cock as he moans loudly, rolling his eye back in pleasure as he cums hard. She whimpers, whining a bit as his seed just keeps on filling her, his balls tensing up as his grip will probably leave her delicate skin with red marks.

He is caring afterwards, as he cleans her with a towel, or when he places her in bed and covers her, lying by her side each time as she snuggles to him.

“You have to know–” she says softly, her fingers tracing circles on his chest. “You are hot when jealous”

Aemond huffs, grumbling about it a bit as he seems reluctant. It amuses her.

“You always find me hot, I could be… Killing a chicken and you would be leaking”

“Get on my place for a moment, please, just imagine how your muscles would flex” she says dead serious and he rolls his eye amused, as the corners of his lips gives him away.

The fixation on his hair would be a problem if he didn’t love her so much. Aemond allows his lady Tully to braid it as they talk in bed. 

“I didn’t really mean it” he says softly. 

“Hm?” She asks curious, her fingers working on a single small braid on his hair.

“You can talk to them” he says through gritted teeth. “Just-... not too much”

Her little laugh warms his heart. “Very well” she says amused. “For each sentence I say to them, I will suck you”

“I retract myself, talk to them very much, all you like” he says, and it has her giggling. “You know I love you…” he says; as it comes into his view her concentrated face, her tongue coming out of her pink lips as she was focused. He could see the freckles that he so adored, and her pretty eyes. How he loved her.

“You know I love you more…” she says fixing his braid to stick to his hair. Her mouth forms a pleased smile as she sits, as she inspects her work. “Yes. Seems pretty nice”

He could feel the hair strand tight, and he moved his hand to touch his head. “What in the Seven Hells you did to my hair, woman?” 

She looks very pleased as she giggles, her body accommodating against his chest as she shrugs innocently, as he keeps on playfully trying to decipher what his wife did to his hair. 

[florida3exclamationpoints]

I am laughing

[princessbellecerise]

Rotten Soil, Rotten Fruit

Summary ✩ You are Alicent Hightower’s pride and joy. Sweet and innocent, you’re the apple of the Queen’s eye more than her own children are. But how will she react when you slip into the hands of her enemies?

Warnings ✩ Mentions of pregnancy, birth, reader is a very distant relative of Alicent, mentions of religion and sa (but it doesn’t happen), Alicent being bastardphobic

You were not from her womb, but the Queen loved you like a daughter anyways.

You were good, sweet and kind with a gentle heart. Mayhaps the fact that you did not come from her body was the reason you possessed such traits, for you seemed to be everything her children were not, even though she often prayed for them to be.

Maybe it was the fact that you came from her mother’s side, a distant relative but blood no matter how thin it might’ve been. The one that survived the fire wiping out your family, though you had been too young to remember such a thing.

You were a connection and a reminder to a side that Alicent hadn’t known for years. A connection to Lady Alicent—now lost to her—who was sweet and pure once, and now everyday you reminded her of what she had been. You were everything that Alicent wanted and more, and yet, you did not belong to her.

Not forever, anyways.

You were at the age where it was considered necessary for a young lady to wed, but Alicent would be lying if she said that she was ready to give you away. She already had to suffer once in marrying her other sweet daughter to Aegon, and now that the time had come both Viserys and Otto were pushing to do the same for you.

“It is time the girl begins a life of her own, Alicent,” Viserys had said. “She cannot stay under you forever.”

“She must wed now, or risk remaining a spinster. Helaena was wed at three and ten, Y/N is five years past that. It is time, Alicent.” Her father had reminded her. And then he added, “Though I am sure if it were up to you, daughter, keeping Y/N a spinster would most please you.”

And it would’ve. Alicent wasn’t ready to say goodbye. Not again. To watch another person she loved be ripped away and forced to endure a fate like her. It almost as painful watching it happen than it was to experience it herself. Painful to see her girls become nothing more than a womb to spill retched seed into.

Please, not her. Not yet is what she prayed to the Mother every night.

Prayed that you’d be spared if not now, then at least a little longer. Alicent needed time to cope. She needed time to grieve your absence from her as well, but the goddess did not listen.

In fact, it seemed that the Mother loved you more than Alicent herself did, because she was intent on taking you away. Intent on seeing Alicent suffer, as if she hadn’t enough already.

She would’ve forgive the Mother for all of her pain and suffering had it been anyone but him. Had it been anyone except Jacaerys Velaryon that ended up leading you to the fate of motherhood, then Alicent would have rejoiced, truly. Because it would’ve meant that the gods may have been cruel, but at least they didn’t outright hate Alicent.

Be as it may though, all of her fears came to fruitation in the early days of 132 AC.

The Prince Jacaerys and his mother had flown to court on account of defending his younger brother’s claim to Driftmark, a usurpation that Alicent herself had put into motion.

She’d heard the complaints of Vaemond Velaryon and she along with her father agreed that Driftmark needed to go towards someone of his blood. Someone with true Velaryon roots, and not that brood of bastards Rhaenyra had cooked up.

The Princess had decorated them like cakes, putting on the ultimate farce as they pranced around in Velaryon clothes and colors.

Alicnet herself hadn’t been there to greet them upon their arrival to the Red Keep, her own pettiness forbidding her to step foot into that courtyard. But from what she had heard from you, someone she had sent in her place, Rhaenyra had truly outdone herself.

“They all arrived on their dragons and in such nice fashion, too! The patterns on Princess Rhaenyra’s dresses were just beautiful, your grace. And oh, the dragons! They were magnificent, e-especially Prince Jacaerys’ mount,” You had gushed.

Alicent should’ve known then that was something was wrong. The way you looked, the way you smiled when you mentioned Rhaenyra’s spawn didn’t sit right with her even then. She thought it odd how much you stuttered when speaking of Jacaerys but Alicent had just chalked it up to your girlish excitement for new visitors.

Oh how she wished that she hadn’t.

How she wished that she hadn’t been so blind, blinder than her dear husband and son not to notice what was going on in front of her.

Alicent hadn’t even noticed until all of it smacked her in the face. She hadn’t noticed all of the stares, all of the lingering touches and the things that were being done in the shadows.

She was still recovering from the loss and the humiliation of losing Vaemond and Driftmark, all because her husband had decided to crawl out of bed and put himself through immerse pain just to defend Lucerys’ claim.

Alicent had been so distracted by the failure of her plan that she didn’t even know you were seeing the Prince Jacaerys, sneaking behind her back and meeting up with him in secret.

Had she been in her usual state of mind, she would’ve heard the whispers from the maids. Heard about how he’d walk with you in the gardens, show you obvious favor by gifting you flowers and jewels. Alicent had noticed those, but she had assumed that they were from other suitors, not Rhaenyra’s bastard Prince.

You never said otherwise either, and you had many suitors vying for you hand—and for the favor of the Queen. It could’ve come from any one of them but never once did you mention it was him until it was too late. Until one day, you had no choice.

It had been only two moons since the petition when the maids came running to her and told Alicent that you hadn’t bled. Of course, still nursing the fall out from Rhaenyra, Alicent was taken off guard by this new information. This new revelation that included you possibly being in a scandal. After all, everyone knew that missing one’s moon blood was a clear sign of pregnancy, but Alicent hadn’t wanted to believe that at first.

“What are you saying?” She had asked slowly, as though she were a fool that needed it spelled out. “Speak it, and say it plainly Talia. Now.”

Briefly, Alicent was reminded of the time Viserys had uttered the same words, demanding that her Lord father explain what he meant by Rhaenyra being in a pleasure house. Alicent hadn’t understood his willful ignorance then. After all, it did not take a scholar to figure out what her father was trying to say. But now, as she stared at the nervous maid in front of her, she understood Viserys more than she ever had.

What was Talia trying to say, exactly?

“Your Grace, Lady Y/N has not received her moon blood for two months now,” She explained after taking a deep breath. “And furthermore, she has shown signs of…sickness in the mornings. Sore breasts, and her clothes do not not fit her anymore either. Some say…well they say that Lady Y/N has been seen visiting a man late at night. They say…they say that she has been having an affair with the Prince Jacaerys.”

Alicent blinked, and suddenly the Queen found herself standing in your room, staring at the evidence of what Talia had said, or rather, the lack of.

True to her word, there was no blood on your sheets even though the usual date of when you bled had long passed. The sheets were as white as snow, and Alicent could tell by the way they were crumpled they hadn’t been changed, either.

Rage, white hot and blinding, creeped it way into her bones.

“What has happened? Were you raped?” Was Alicent’s immediate thought. She was furious, thinking that he must have taken you in a way that you did not want to warrant something like this.

Alicent would never, ever believe that you would willingly lie with that bastard, so that must’ve been the only explanation. Her sweet girl…Talia had been wrong. It wasn’t an affair at all.

“No! No! I wanted to, I swear it, your grace!”

Alicent didn’t believe you. Even as you blubbered and tried to explain the details of what transpired to this, she didn’t believe that something like this could happen without you being forced. Ignoring your protests that you absolutely weren’t, she felt the heat of a thousand suns coat her voice as she exclaimed, “That bastard! I will have him exiled for this!”

Never before had she spoken a threat with such hatred. Never before had the Queen dared to say such treasons out loud. In all her years, Alicent had never spoken of the Velaryon boy’s parentage in anything but riddles. And even then, it was hushed whispers and jests coated in honey that left her mouth.

Never before had the plain accusation left her lips, wording clear as daylight as she seethed. “I will…I have him hanged! I will feed his body to the dogs myself for what he has done!”

For once, Alicent wanted revenge. She would punish that bastard to the most extreme that she could; make him pay for what he had done to you. Her heart ached as she stared at you.

How could she have been so stupid? How could you have been harmed in a such a way and how had she not even noticed? This was her fault, Alicent thought with horror. With a heavy feeling growing in her chest, she realized that she was too caught up in her own feelings, too caught up in politicking to take care of her domestic affairs.

And now because of her ignorance, because of her greed she had been punished. You had been raped, defiled and disgraced by a monster.

And where was she when you needed her? Where was she when you were taken no doubt against your will, probably terrified as the bastard spawn nipped at your tender flesh.

Alicent felt so sick she could hardly breathe. Had her senses not already been dialed to eleven, she would have missed the way you began to cry harder, shaking your head as you protested,

“Please, your Grace, don’t! You…you can’t! Jacaerys loves me, and he would never. You can’t send him away! You can’t hurt him!” The sound of your wailing was almost enough to make Alicent begin to crumple. In fact, she felt her knees shake as she covered her mouth, pity flooding her veins as she shook her head.

“He told you that? He told you that he loved you after dishonoring you?” She asked in disbelief. Just when she thought that it couldn’t get any worse, her poor girl now defended her defiler and had been told lies about how he truly felt. Words meant to keep you quiet, she had no doubt. Telling you that he loved you so that you wouldn’t see his acts for what they really were.

“Y/N, any man who does such a thing could never love you. To take a maiden by force, and to disgrace you by impregnating you with a bastard is not love. Look at me!”

Alicent wasn’t expecting to see the way you immediately changed. Instead of crying, you became panicked as you shook your head.

“No, no, my babe isn’t a bastard,” You insisted tearfully. “We are married your grace, I swear it upon the Gods themselves! In the Sept of Seven Prince Jacaerys married me and Princess Rhaenyra was our witness. You have to believe me, Queen Alicent! We did everything the right way! He never forced me and he loves me, I swear it!”

Now it felt someone had slapped Alicent across the face. She stared, dumbfounded as you revealed this information and it was like the entire world stopped spinning.

The Queen regent trembled as her knees gave out. She had to take a seat on the edge of your bed to stop herself from collapsing as she became hysterical.

“She knew? Rhaenyra knew about this?” Was all that she could manage to get out. Of course. Of course she should’ve known that Rhaenyra was behind something like this. And not only that, she had sanctioned it, a feat that made Alicent want to throw up.

The entire time that she had hosted Rhaenyra in her home, the entire time that she played nice and allowed her bastards to eat her food, sleep in her beds, Rhaenyra had thrown her hospitality in her face and allowed her son to defile the one good thing Alicent had left.

You, so sweet and kind, who probably did not even understand the things he had done to you, had been ruined. Right under her nose, her only salvation in this world had been stolen away and breeded like some common whore. Married with no ceremony which Alicent wanted to attend. That she had dreamed of having for you ever since you had ended up in her care.

And worse that than, you now carried a child. The trueborn heir to Jacaerys Velaryon. An heir to the Iron Throne.

“You…”

Alicent would’ve rather it had been a bastard. Gods, she could have handled a bastard. She could’ve gotten rid of it, or given it away to save you some shame. But this…harming your trueborn child would be an act of treason.

For all of Alicent misdoings, this was the one where truly, Viserys would have her hanged if she harmed the babe in your belly. There would be no mercy for her. Not this time. And for first time time since she had become Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, Alicent felt really and truly helpless.

All the power in the world couldn’t help her overcome this. It couldn’t save you from being taken from her in quite literally the worst way imaginable. She knew that one day it would happen, but this…for it happen to like this…For you to be stolen by Rhaenyra of all people…

“Oh, my sweet girl.”

She collapsed as you sank to her feet sobbing, allowing you to rest your head on her lap as you cried. Alicent shakily brought a hand up to stroke your head, trying to soothe you even though she herself felt numb.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that Rhaenyra had betrayed her, once again lying straight to her face. But this time her step daughter had done something that could never be undone. Sanctioned a marriage between you and her bastard, witnessed it before all of the Gods and defiled you and the holy temple with such an act.

The sept, the very place where Alicent used to spend time with you, used to take you to pray when all her other children had no taste for it, was tainted by her sins.

We are Targaryen’s, we do not worship the Gods of Westeros Viserys had once told her.

But you did. She did. And it made sense. It made sense why the two of you were the only decent people left in this dishonorable world, and it was because you worshiped the only Gods that taught true honor and decency.

Yes, yes, Alicent had thought for so long that that was the reason her other children were so wicked, as was their father, their sister, and their nephews. They did not answer to the same Gods as you did, did not have the same respect for honor and sacrifice as you both did.

And because of that, because of her unwavering faith, it that meant that as much as she wanted to, as much as she wished that this was all a fairytale and she’d be able to annul this farce of a marriage and free you from the bloody shackles that still had her chained, Alicent couldn’t.

You were now bound to House Targaryen as she was, first by oath and now by order of blood and seed. Just like she was, you were forever a prisoner of this miserable keep, never to leave those who were served but never served themselves.

She wanted to talk to the idiot Septon who had done this. Who had officiated this…this vile farce. When Alicent found out who it was, she’d have their head for it.

But for now, all she could do was take your crying figure into her arms, stroking the cheeks that were drowned with tears. Come morning, she would make sure that they were gone but for now, she let them flow, watching as they ruined her green dress.

“Does he know?” She managed to ask quietly, waiting until you were at least done sobbing to question if Jacaerys, the father of your babe, was even informed. “Does he know what your sins have resulted in? That he has saddled you with a child?”

Alicent wasn’t even when shocked when you nodded your head.

“Yes. He and Princess Rhaenyra both know,” You hiccuped. Once again, the Queen saw red.

Of course. She’d wager that everyone knew expect for her. Every one of them…they had played Alicent for a fool. Pulled the ultimate stunt and now they were no doubt laughing behind her back. That was probably exactly what Rhaenyra wanted. At the moment, the Princess was probably laughing at Alicent, smug that she had once again managed to blindside her.

“Always the fool, aren’t you?” She imagined Rhaenyra saying. And she was right.

“My last living flower. My last sweet tasting fruit. You are now rotted as well,” Alicent grieved. You did not quite understand what she meant, but Alicent did. She understood that she was indeed a fool.

She was a fool to think that anything good could ever grow from her womb, and she was even more foolish to think that you, who was planted in the soil and grown by her love would be any different.

No matter what she did, the outcome was the same. One way or another, her flowers wilted, her sweet fruits decayed. From her womb or from her love, nothing good ever came of a child from Alicent Hightower, and this was only further proof.

Alicent wasn’t sure if she was more angry at Jacaerys or at herself. She wasn’t sure if the guilt she felt was for not protecting you, or because one way or another she knew that this was her fault.

Even if she hadn’t sent you that day out of her own pettiness and all but planted the seeds for this to happen, then it would still be fate that you would end up corrupted.

Alicent had been plagued with the curse of her children turning out that way since Aegon was born. She had passed it from child to child, all the way down to her youngest Daeron and she was a fool to think you, who she loved as her own, could escape it.

For a while, she had truly believed that you had. From the moment you were brought to her, barely a babe of two, and up until now, Alicent thought you escaped the curse.

After all, you were good and you were kind and she had raised you, so that had to mean something, right?

But now Alicent realized that all good things came to an end. Just because it hadn’t happened didn’t mean that it wouldn’t. The Gods had time above all else. They would see to it that every prophecy would become fulfilled; no matter how long it took. And now, everything Alicent had ever feared came to light in that moment.

You were indeed still rotten fruit because you were grown from her rotten soil. How could she expect you to be any different, how could she be so foolish?

She should’ve expected this. She should’ve known since that first conversation that it would happen.

But she had turned an eye and let her hopes blind her. And because of that, you now paid the price of being loved by her.

You too, were now corrupted.

—

Your pregnancy was a miserable thing. You were constantly sick from the day that you told Alicent, always hunched over one bucket or another and miserablly hot.

Alicent remembered that feeling. Remembered how she never felt comfortable, how she always felt like she was burning alive as the fires of her dragon babes licked at her womb. She knew it was the same for you, and she pitied you above all else.

The blood of the dragon ran hot, and it wasn’t easy carrying it. Often times, Alicent would find you indoors, being fanned by the largest that they had or on the days where your body temperature climbed really high, soaking in a bath with cold ice and water.

It was heartbreaking, really, to see how you almost identically suffered as she did, but unlike her you didn’t seem to mind. You were always so happy, so optimistic even when your husband’s devil spawn was burning you alive.

You were never without a smile as you flaunted about the Red Keep, giggling happily with the other young ladies. There was always a hand on the swollen bump that had grown larger than you, another reminder to Alicent that it shouldn’t be there.

It was far too soon for a girl your age to be carrying but of course, no one cared. They were all too occupied and fascinated with the future heir and Queen of Westeros to notice how this pregnancy was slowly killing you—even your so called husband.

He never missed a chance to show how much he loved you and adored the babe growing your swollen belly. But Alicent figured that if it were true, he would’ve slipped you moon tea and saved you from this miserable fate.

Be as it may though, Jacaerys always seemed just as excited as you were, never too far away from his lady wife and his heir. He lingered like a shadow that was meant to consume you, casting you in a shade of darkness that took away from your light.

It always made Alicent sick to see the way he pretended to care about you, as if anyone could ever love you better than she had tried.

Yes, yes, Alicent firmly believed that she was the only one who truly had your best interests at heart, the only one who was there for you, and not the babe. She was the only one that believed that Y/N mattered more, which why when the day came and the spawn in your stomach decided to finally claw its way out of you, Alicent insisted on being in the room.

Nevermind that it was improper for the Queen to do such a thing, or that Rhaenyra was also there.

Alicent would suffer the whispers and the presence of her step daughter if it meant that she could be there, that she could hold your hand as you screamed and cried and labored for a babe that should never have been conceived.

She was there for you as your body stretched, making sure that you were well looked after and comfortable. More than once, she had wiped the sweat from your brow with her own handkerchief, had placed your hair in braids so you wouldn’t tear it out from the pain you were suffering. It hurt Alicent, it really did, as you cried and held onto her like her little girl.

“It’s too much. I can’t…I can’t…” Is what you constantly told the Maesters, and despite their encouragement, only Alicent knew that it was the truth.

Your body was not yet equipped to handle such things, too young and too weak to be bringing a babe into this world. Try as she might have, even Rhaenyra, your good mother as Alicent saltily recalled, could do nothing to soothe your pains. She held your hand and whispered stories of how she’d gone through something similar with Jacaerys, but it didn’t seem to help.

“The pain was the worst thing I’ve ever been through, but I did make it though. As will you sweetling. I promise,” Rhaenyra cooed and Alicent hated her presence even more when she found that she herself could not speak.

She could not offer you the same condolences or reassurance as Rhaenyra did, because with Aegon everything went quickly and without a fuss. Her other children were the same so Alicent herself had nothing to offer you beyond sweet empty words.

She hated Rhaenyra even more for being able to relate to you in such in a way, as it wasn’t her place. I am her mother, Alicent mentally snapped at her. You cannot take that from me as well.

When all was said in done though, she found herself putting away these jealous thoughts when it was time for you to push. Somehow, you had gathered the last of your strength and was able to sit up, squeezing both Rhaenyra and Alicent as the baby crowned.

“My sweet girl. My brave girl. You are doing so well, only a few more,” Alicent encouraged you, and the Queen fully believed that it was her words, not Rhaenyra’s, that gave you the courage finally squeeze the babe out.

“There! It’s a boy, Princess!”

Eveyone in the birthing room laughed and sighed of relief as the babe slipped out. Round faced and squalling, even Alicent was slightly overjoyed when she saw him; a beautiful babe with white hair and all of your features.

Alicent couldn’t even see the babes’ eyes yet, and everything was too fast, too emotional to check. But one thing that she knew for sure was that it was your babe, not his, and that made Alicent’s heart grow fonder than it ever had since she found out that you were with child.

Laughing slightly, the Queen stroked your hair as you sobbed and reached for you babe, getting the pleasure to witness the unbreakable bond of mother and child for the first time.

The two of you, so young and innocent, pressed against one another, bare skin to bare skin as you smiled down at your baby. The squeaking little thing immediately came to hush as his mother’s eyes laid upon him, innocent little creatures observing each other while Rhaenyra stood.

“I will go and bring Jacaerys,” The Princess said, unable to stop smiling as she glanced at her new heir.

Surely, the Princess was more than pleased with herself that the babe had inherited her coloring, but Alicent tried not to think about that. Whatever Rhaenyra felt, whatever the realm saw when they looked at this baby, only Alicent knew that he was yours through and through.

There was no amount of white hair or violet eyes that could take away from the fact that he was yours first. He was your blood, your pain.

As she finally realized this, Alicent decided that she could love this babe after all. He would be hers to spoil, her to protect as much as you used to be but he would not suffer the same fate as you had.

After all, your womb was not hers. It wasn’t stained with the sins of greed and hatred, and your children wouldn’t be born or grown from such things.

Alicent had made a mistake thinking that she would distance herself from the babe, afraid of bringing the same curse upon him by loving him and unwilling to accept anything that resembled that bastard.

But now that she saw how much he looked like you, how much he was you, she saw the truth.

Maybe her womb was rotten. Maybe it was too late for her. But the womb that this babe had come out was not cursed, and a flicker of hope rose in Alicent as she realized there was still a chance for him, and her.

Yes, yes. Perhaps the Gods had not been so cruel after all. Perhaps this too was a test, the final one for Alicent to prove that fate wasn’t inevitable. To prove that her destiny wasn’t to corrupt all innocent creatures in her care, and that she too could help nurture something into being great.

With you, with Healena, with Aemond, Aegon and Daeron she had failed; but not again. Alicent wouldn’t allow this babe to end up like all her children had. She would love him, she would protect him, and in time Alicent Hightower would prove that her love was not rotten.

She would prove that it did not poison everything she touched, but rather, it could be a beacon that one day guided this babe into being someone great.

If she failed, well then maybe her destiny was to never learn from her mistakes.

But as she looked at you, her sweet girl nursing her sweet little babe, Alicent became filled with hope.

She felt the strength that had left her years ago replenish itself. Her head cleared, her mind sharper than it had ever been. With everything in her, she was ready to fight again. To bare her teeth and claw her way to a new destiny.

Because now, she had another innocent to protect. This time for herself. Alicent had gotten it wrong not once, but five times, but this time around would be her redemption. This time around, it would be different. She would be different, and Alicent swore that upon the old Gods and the new.

[frostedpuffs]

i like to think Marinette is really skilled at cake decorating. it's a different artistic medium but one she picks up quickly and finds very relaxing. she LOVES piping intricate designs and making realistic gumpaste flowers. it's calming to her. whenever she's stressed, Tom will ask her for her help with decorating a cake, and it instantly chills her out. she gets into the Zone.

the first time she makes Adrien a cake, he is mesmerized by the amount of detail. perfectly piped rosettes and lettering, wishing him a happy half-birthday or something of those sorts. he almost doesn't want to eat it because of how pretty it is, but they enjoy a slice together. he loves how artistic she is, and the cake tastes good too! after dating her for a few months and spending time at the bakery, he begins to become familiar with her piping style, and loves watching her make perfect droplines or buttercream roses. he thinks it's especially cute how her tongue pokes out of her mouth when she focuses. she's always showing him something new she's learned. he's aware she's amazing (his own words), yet she still always manages to surprise him.

later, when ladybug shows up to patrol with a cake to celebrate their defeat of a particularly difficult akuma, chat noir recognizes Marinette’s handwriting in the piped message on the top of the cake, and his chest warms with affection knowing ladybug purchased this cake from his girlfriend's parents' bakery.

"It's a beautiful cake," he would say, thinking of Marinette poking her tongue out as she piped the buttercream border. his love for her surely spills out in the softness of his voice, but he can't help himself. he adores Marinette!

Ladybug would be all bright smiles, beaming with pride. "Thank you," she'd respond. "I decorated it myself!"

[a-hazbin-reader]

Alastor and reader's wedding? What did her dress look like? How did Al react to her wallking down the isle?? PLEASE I NEED TO KNOW

I always cry at weddings 😭 😭 😭

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Possessive Alastor, FEELINGS

Description: ☝️⬆️

If you two got married when you were alive, then I imagine it was a very small and intimate ceremony

You and Alastor did a lot of the decorating yourselves, even making your own wedding cake because Alastor can BAKE

You two had a blast doing it too, turning everything into a little game and making deals over who could set things up the fastest/nicest

Winner gets a kiss from the loser

You two would likely only invite your closest friends and relatives(if you were close with your family that is)

If Alastor's mother was still alive by the time you guys got engaged then she 110% would be there(I genuinely don't remember when she died soooooo)

She would absolutely be his best man because who else would be worthy of such a position??

Happy tears from her the entire time

This woman will walk you down the aisle if she has to, she won't let you walk alone on your big day

Not Alastor holding back tears at the sight of his mother and soon to be wife walking towards him

Mimzy would also have been there, and she would've fought for her right as maid of honor, like physically fought off her competitors

You're haunted by the memory of it, actually

Absolutely sticks her nose in everything but only because she wants it to be perfect for you two

She will tear up anyone who throws a wrench in the ceremony and will run it better than she did her own club

"These floors better be SPOTLESS! If I see a single speck of dust on that dress-"

She probably insisted on paying for the wedding too

Alastor would probably have a last minute freak out at the thought that this is actually happening, he's getting married

But he wouldn't be nervous about you leaving him at the altar or anything like that, just normal wedding jitters

But he's resolute in the fact that he wants this, he wants to be your husband and share his life with you

And he definitely doesn't want anyone else thinking there's a chance they can take you from him

Alastor is positively radiating warmth and pride by the time you're walking down the aisle, blown away by how stunning you look

Whether the dress is unique, traditional or not even a wedding dress-he's amazed by just how good you look in it

It makes his mouth water

He's lowkey preening for you the entire time

It just makes everything seem more real to him, immediately reaching out to take your hands in order to keep himself grounded in reality

He actually is at a loss for words for once...

"You look really handsome..."

The sight of your happy blush brings him back, and he's pressing his forehead to yours

"And you look nearly as good as I do, my dear~"

Ass

The slight quiver in his smile, glassy eyes and tight grip on your hands gives him away though, you know what he really means

You look heavenly to him

Neither you or Alastor listen to a word the officiant says, too busy gazing lovingly at one another to pay them any mind

And you're definitely not getting distracted at the feeling of his thumbs gently caressing over your hands

When it comes to the vows, Alastor definitely puts his heart and soul into trying to make you cry at words

He's putting on a show for you but you love it ❤️

He looks smug as hell when he finishes

His gaze becomes softer as you say your own vows, smile becoming a little more gooey as you make his heart race

"And if anyone is opposed to this marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace."

Not Alastor and Mimzy giving death glares to anyone who would even dare saying anything

As if you two even invited anybody who would fucking try

"You may now kiss-"

Alastor doesn't even wait for him to finish, tugging you close and kissing you deeply

And once your arms wrap around his neck then maybe the kiss gets a little too intimate

Mimzy is whistling and cheering while Alastor's mother is politely looking away from you two

You two barely pull away to breathe before he kisses you again, seemingly unable to stop

He just can't believe he's kissing his wife

That he's your husband and everyone is going to know that you're not on the market anymore

Not that you ever were before

It's an embarrassingly long time before you two stop, and you're left panting, rosy-cheeked, and weak in the knees

Alastor doesn't move his arm from your waist for the rest of the night, wanting to keep you close

The only time he does let you go is when he goes to dance with his mother or when it's your turn to dance with his mother

Not her giving you both embarrassing advice about the honeymoon and early married couple life

She wants grandkids dammit

When you two are cutting the cake, he does NOT slam a slice into your face but he does put a bit of frosting on your nose

Only to lick it off a moment later

🥵 BOI

If you do it back to him then he will be properly flustered because he was banking on the fact that you would be too shocked to react

He doesn't care about wedding gifts or anything like that but his mother's blessing means everything to him

So her approval of your marriage and you as her daughter in law just solidified how important you'll always be to him

But don't worry because Mimzy definitely made sure to hook you two up with gifts

Alastor literally can't stop kissing you afterwards, your hands, your cheeks, your forehead, your neck, ect

If you return even a smidgen of that affection back to him then it'll only make him more excited for your future together

He's not even thinking of the honeymoon, he's just overwhelmed with the urge to give you affection

He just thinks about how he'll never be tired of being your husband and having you as his wife

Waking up to you, going to bed with you, cooking with you, messing with you, hell even fighting with you sounds appealing because then he can make up with you

Alastor never really thought of himself as the type to get married but you came and completely changed that with your love

Even though he was difficult and fought falling in love with you with everything he had

You fought back harder to love him

Now that he's here with you, looking at the wedding band on your finger, the loving look on your face

Your hand on his cheek gently guiding him to look into your eyes as you lean in towards him

Feeling your lips on his own as you whisper loving things against them before kissing him

He's happy you won that fight

This one was a lot of fun!! I was originally going to do two versions of this! One wedding before you two died and one for after you both were dead but then I included his mom and-

I got very carried away

[knavesflames]

IT'S FATHER'S DAY AND WE ALL KNOW WHO WE ALL CALL FATHER! PLEASE WE NEED ARLECCHINO DURING FATHER'S DAY!

⭐️

Hi ⭐️ anon!! Sorry this is delayed by a couple days, I had a lot going on. Happy Father’s Day to anyone who celebrated:)

Contents: fluff, arlecchino is soft

Word count: 869

Work utc!

When the children of the orphanage came up to you, whispering about a secret plan for this Father’s Day, you can’t help but feel your lips twitch into a smile. You swore to them you wouldn’t tell her, and you’d keep her away from the main hall as long as possible until Lyney somehow gave a sign. You wait patiently, the occasional smile slipping from your lips as you think of it.

You know Arlecchino has her own doubts about her ability as a Father. Forever scared of becoming Crucabena, she hides her emotions, choosing to be a strict and unfeeling Father. There’s no denying the affection she has for them, though. When she murmurs to you that one of the children needs to go shopping because they’ve begun to develop, or when one of the teenagers has a date and she sends them to you for advice. It seems, to the observer, that she’s passing them off onto you, but that could not be further from the truth.

She doesn’t know how to help them with these things. No, she was not taught how to go bra shopping, opting to wear random sports bras until she was well into adulthood because she didn’t know what her size was, or how to choose a bra that fit. Neither was she taught how to be affectionate, to date. She remembers the day you met, how she asked you on a date by simply saying “I will pick you up at 7, we are having dinner.” She’s glad that you were patient with her. So no, she is not passing them off to you because she doesn’t care. She guides them to you because she knows you are the one with the best expertise in those areas. Battle, interrogation? That’s her strength. Emotional things? Ehh, not so much.

So when you wake up on the Sunday, you immediately smell the breakfast the chefs make for the children, and the soft giggles as they plan everything. You look at Arlecchino, her sleeping form stirring as you wrap an arm around her. She murmurs a ‘good morning’, kissing your forehead and doing the same gesture she always does when she’s about to get up— a squeeze of your hand. You pull her back quickly with a soft smile, demanding she stay in bed today because in your words: “you’re too much at work and I miss you.” She can never say no when she sees those eyes of yours, so with a grumble, she agrees.

After an hour of cuddling, much to her dismay and amusement, she escapes your grip, standing up. Her muscles flex as she stretches before she hesitates, her eyebrows furrowing as she bends down.

“Why is one of Lyney’s cards here?”

“Hm? How odd.”

You bite your lip to hide the smile growing on your face, watching as she shrugs and places it on the nightstand. You wonder how he’s managed that, but you wonder that about a lot of his tricks. Now, you’re suddenly eager to get her downstairs, practically jumping out of bed and cladding yourself in clothes. Arlecchino’s eyes twitch in surprise at your sudden change of mind, but follows you anyway.

“It’s too quiet in here, if they’re in the garden with the spears again, I swear to the Tsaritsa, I’ll-“

Her words trail off when she sees the state of the main hall. Balloons on a couple of the tables, a banner that runs across the wall, a messily painted “happy Father’s Day” decorating it. And finally, on the table, is her favourite dish, the most plain looking steak tartare, exactly the way she likes it. Next to it is one singular slice of cake, her favourite cake, the one that’s always sold out, (she secretly gets grumpy when she doesn’t reach the bakery in time, but you vowed not to tell). She looks at you, and you can’t contain your grin. Neither can the children, really. Her silence is a positive thing, a very positive thing indeed. She is never silent when she’s unhappy.

She sits down, silently examining the food, and her lips twitch in a barely contained smirk when she sees the only seasoning being salt and a minimal dash of pepper. She’s not entirely sure how to react, her preferred type of affection being that she gives it and receives nothing back. Perhaps because she feels she doesn’t deserve any, or maybe because she doesn’t know how to react.

Either way, she picks up the fork before she clears her throat.

“Thank you, children. I will take a photo later and cherish this now.”

Her words are enough for the children to start talking and laughing again, most of them leaving to let her eat in peace. You hum and look towards her, content in watching her eat with a look of satisfaction on her face. Though, you catch a glimpse of her eyes, glassy and slightly red.

“I have allergies.”

She snaps in defence, but the softness in which she looks at you after proves that she’s just *happy*. You stare at her some more, a look of adoration in your eyes as she eats.

“Okay, love.”

“..do not tell them.”

[cressidagrey]

Looked to the Sky - Chapter 18

Summary: 

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was, however, Azriel‘s mate with her own mysterious, untrained powers.

Also known as: Azriel tries to court his mate the human way.

Warnings: 

THIS IS THE LIGHTNING IN A BOTTLE SEQUEL! SO READ THAT FIRST IF YOU WANNA READ THIS ONE OTHERWISE THIS MAKES NO SENSE!

Amren Bashing, Low Self Esteem and without @k-godling this would have never happened.

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

The first time Azriel heard Eira play the harp...was Winter Solstice Eve. She had moved the instruments into one corner of the Living Room and was contently plucking the strings, Nyx on her lap.

Azriel watched from where he stood in the doorway as his mate strummed the harp, the sweet, lovely sounds filling the room. She gently bounced Nyx to the sound of the harp's music, Nyx's head bobbing with each movement.

Nyx was having the time of his life if his bright grin was anything to go by.

Azriel smiled gently as he watched the scene. Eira looked so...so happy, content, sitting there and playing her harp with Nyx on her lap. They were both grinning like fools, and Azriel's smile widened when Eira's gaze flicked up and landed on him.

"Happy Solstice Eve," his mate said softly, continuing the song, the last few notes ringing out in the room. It was decorated with pine garlands and dark ribbons, with little twinkling fae lights in the decorations.

He chuckled at her soft murmur, striding over to them, his gaze flickering across the living room as he moved, taking note of the way Eira had decorated the room. He knew it had been her because he had spent an evening a few days ago helping her string up the pine garlands and tying the bows she had made onto them. 

"And a very Happy Solstice Eve to you as well, my love," he replied, resting a hand on her shoulder to give it a light squeeze as he leaned down to press a kiss to her cheek. "And you, Nyxie-" he added, grinning at his nephew.

Nyx giggled gleefully at him, reaching out for him with a babble that vaguely seemed to be an attempt at a greeting.

Azriel gently plucked him from Eira's grasp and tossed him into the air in a move that was a little more reckless than usual, catching the babe again a moment later and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"I am surprised you aren't in the kitchen baking," he told Eira, who smiled as she watched him and Nyx play.

"Feyre told me to relax," she answered with a sigh. "I am not allowed to enter the kitchen on threat of no presents."

"Well, I suppose we'll have no cake this year..." he muttered with mock disappointment, bouncing Nyx a little in his arms and eliciting a giggle from his nephew.

Eira just snorted. "Have some trust in me, love. I made cookies days ago."

"Oh, did you?" he inquired, bouncing Nyx in one arm. "And where in the house did you hide these baked goods, Sweetheart?"

"Far from Cassian, hopefully," she muttered under her breath. "I have the shadows protecting them."

Azriel chuckled, the sound low and soft. "A wise choice," he agreed. "Or else Cassian would've devoured them all in five minutes."

Nyx giggled then, seemingly finding the conversation funny, and Azriel bounced him in his arms again, pressing another kiss to the baby's cheek.

"Yes, yes, Nyxie, this is all very amusing," he said with a grin, resting the baby on his hip as he glanced down at his mate, still sat by the harp. "Can you play another song, Eira?"

Eira smiled at him, a bright blush sweeping across her cheeks. "Of course," she answered, picking up the harp again, her fingers shifting to a different position on the strings.

Her fingers started to move across the harp's strings, and another sweet, lilting tune filled the room, a smile on his mate's face as she played.

Azriel listened silently, his gaze shifting between Eira - who was still blushing adorably - and Nyx, who was watching her play with wide, fascinated eyes. The baby's head lolled and bobbed to the beat of the music, his eyes tracking his aunt's fingers as they shifted across the harp's strings.

The rest of their family decided to trickle in slowly, even Varian and Amren deciding to show up.

Nyx squirmed in Azriel's arms as people began to fill the room, giggling eagerly and watching the guests with excited little squeaks and babbles.

Eira continued playing softly, nearly absentmindedly, smiling at Nesta as her sister found a seat next to her.

"Only three more days," Nesta murmured and Eira gave her a happy little grin.

"Three more days," she agreed, her excitement apparent in her voice.

Azriel heard her words, and they sent a small jolt of something - anticipation, he realised - through his chest. Three more days...

Nesta caught his eye, raising a brow meaningfully with a smirk on her face that he ignored.

"That does sound better than your screeching," Amren said suddenly and Eira's hands froze. A growl rose up in his throat. He opened his mouth to respond, but Eira was quicker than him. 

"I'd like to see you play the harp, Amren." she sniped, and oh by the stars above, the sharpness and the snark in his normally sweet mate's voice was so different, but in a...good way. It was unexpected, but he liked it more than he expected.

"Touchy," Amren answered, but it seemed more like a remark than a real complaint. She had a strangely...amused expression on her face that even Azriel could not interpret, but the look only lasted for a moment before it disappeared again.  "You gained some claws," Amren complimented.

"Amren," Rhys said in a warning tone.

"What?" Amren asked, turning to him with feigned innocence in her eyes.

Rhys just rolled his eyes, shaking his head and muttering something that sounded suspiciously like unbelievable.

"Are you done now, Amren?" Eira asked, her voice icy. "I am still waiting on an apology for last time."

"Whatever for?" Amren said with a scoff. Azriel felt the growl in his throat grow louder.

"Oh, I don't know," Eira said in a mock-thoughtful tone. "Maybe for the fact that you called me a waste? That you wanted to turn me into a weapon? Maybe for that? Maybe for upsetting me so much that I winnowed straight into Illyria and burned down a forest?!"

"I didn't say it because I disliked you," Amren said with a huff. "You're so damn...soft. Vulnerable, even.  And you have unimaginable power at your fingertips. Not using it is a waste."

A low snarl rose up in Azriel's throat, and he was considering going over there to tear the silver-eyed menace limb from limb.

Eira's hands stilled on her harp, her expression growing cold. Her eyes were like ice, glimmering with suppressed anger as she said, "Then it's a good thing your opinion of me means so little."

A smirk appeared on Amren's face. "You used to fear me," she purred. "You used to run when you saw me coming. But now...now you're a little bit more confident, are you?"

"I have more to fight for, to live for," Eira said coldly.

"Oh, yes." Amren's smirk widened. "I was wondering when you'd..."

That's how far she came. A moment later, lightning crackled in the palm of Eira's hand

"Finish that sentence, Amren." Eira hissed, and the lightning in her hand crackled and glowed, shining like silver in the light of the room.

The look on Amren's face suddenly changed as she stared, almost dumbstruck, at the lightning in Eira's hand. She was, for the first time since Azriel knew her, shocked into silence

Rhys' eyebrows rose as he took in the situation. On one hand, Feyre was giggling into Rhys' shoulder at the sight of Eira holding lightning. On the other...well, Azriel would not stand for anyone disrespecting his mate. Not when they were already pushing her this far.

A glance around the room showed that Feyre and Cassian were thoroughly interested in the scene in front of them. Nesta was watching Eira with something akin to awe, and Mor was leaning against a bookshelf with a slightly amused smile on her face.

Azriel turned his gaze back to his still-fuming mate and the shocked, nearly apprehensive Amren, the baby on his hip still babbling and giggling happily, blissfully oblivious to the scene in front of him.

"My, my, you are feisty today," Amren breathed, her composure back in place with an almost forced casualness.

"And you're far more annoying than usual today," Eira retorted.

The tension in the room was so thick, that Azriel was half-convinced that you could've reached out a hand and physically touched it.

"You have grown bold," Amren said conversationally, seemingly unbothered by the lightning Eira was still holding.

But Azriel could see the flicker of something in her eyes. Something...not quite fear, but similar. She was slightly nervous in the face of Eira's unexpected anger.

"Amren, that's enough," Feyre cut in.

Feyre's voice echoed through the room, stern and commanding. Amren's head whirled around to peer at her as Feyre stared back with a firm gaze of her own.

"No more," she said firmly, her eyes flickering between Amren and Eira.

"I just wanted a peek at her power."

Azriel's eyes darkened. Eira clenched her hand into a fist, the lightning in her hand vanishing as she muttered angrily, "Next time, I won't just give you a peek."

Amren huffed. "Are you threatening me?"

Azriel growled, low and sharp, handing Nyx to Nesta. "She isn't. I am," Azriel snapped. "Either you treat my mate with respect or we will be having a very different sort of conversation."

Amren looked up at him, a flicker of surprise in her silver eyes. It was gone the next moment, but she wisely made the choice to not say anything.

Meanwhile, Eira was still bristling, tension written across her face as she took a deep breath, clearly trying to calm herself.

"I apologise," Amren said stiffly.

Eira's eyebrows rose, startled by Amren's unexpected apology.

A tense silence followed, but it broke a moment later when Azriel said, "That is something you don't hear often, Amren."

Amren shot him a glare, but there was no real malice behind it.

A huff of agreement came from Rhys, and Feyre muttered something that sounded suspiciously like not going to get used to this.

For once, Azriel thought he had to agree with his friend. Amren actually apologising, especially to someone like Eira... He doubted they'd see that sight ever again.

It was something that much was certain.

Cassian suddenly let out a snicker, and they all turned to look at him.

"What?" he asked, grinning in their direction. "That Lightning is badass!"

Feyre chuckled as well, but it quickly turned into laughter as other people chimed in. Even Varian gave an amused chuckle that sounded surprisingly sincere coming from him.

Eira's cheeks turned a little red, as they always did when attention was focused on her.

She glanced up at him, a mixture of embarrassment and something like pleasure at the little caress, and he had to bite back a smile.

His mate, still so shy when confronted with praise or attention.

Azriel kept his gaze on her for a while longer, and his smile widened a little when she let out a shaky sigh.

Her curls were as beautiful as always, and she was dressed in a gown, silver threading winding across the dark velvet of the skirt. On every other female, the dress would've simply been pretty. On Eira, it was breathtaking.

Ours, whispered the shadows, and Azriel had to agree.

She was his in every way- his mate, his partner, his family. He wouldn't trade that for anything in the world.

"Can I...May I give you your present already? I think you can use it tomorrow," she asked him softly as the evening came to a close.

Azriel turned his attention back to her, hearing the quiet but excited tone in her voice. She truly was too sweet.

"Of course," he answered with a soft smile. "But what is it?"

Eira just gave him a smile, her eyes sparkling with excitement, and his heart started beating a little faster in anticipation. He'd never seen her this...eager about anything before.

"Something I hope you'll enjoy," she said mysteriously, standing up and grabbing his hand, tugging him to his feet. "But you have to come with me."

She led him up to her room, which was halfway packed up, most of her things already up at the House that she had christened Bluebell Cottage.

Azriel glanced around the room, a flicker of sadness going through him at the sight of the already half-emptied room.

But he had to admit, there was a strange sense of... anticipation in his chest. 

The package was soft and wrapped in red wrapping paper. Azriel took the package from her, his eyebrows rising as he felt how soft it was.

"What's in it?" he asked with a hint of curiosity and excitement.

"Unwrap it," she answered.

He let out a little hum, carefully working to open the wrapping without tearing it too much. He could feel Eira's excitement rising as he slowly worked his way through the wrapping, and his curiosity grew as well.

He could hear a few amused chuckles from the shadows, as some of them seemed to know what was in the wrapping.

A moment later, there was a pair of buttery soft, black leather gloves in his hands. He could only stare at them for a moment.

"Your hands start to hurt you more when it gets cold outside," Eira explained quietly. "I lined them with the offcuts from the second pelt you gave me. And I had them enchanted so that they were water resistant."

Azriel stared, shocked and silent, as he held the gloves in his hands. He could tell without even putting them on that they would be perfect- not just for the cold, but also fit snugly around his scarred fingers like they'd been made for him.

He could feel Eira's nerves increasing as he stared at her in shocked disbelief, almost like she was worried about his reaction.

It was an absolutely... perfect gift, and he knew that he could never ever repay her for this. That, for once, he didn't know what to say.

He had never had someone... think about him like this, someone who'd even care about something like the scars on his hands.

"Was that alright?" she asked worriedly.

"You made them for me," he said weakly, not a question.

Eira's eyes widened a little, and he realised that she thought that he was upset.

"Of course it's alright," he said quickly, staring down at the gloves in his hands.

His mate, his perfect kind and sweet and caring mate... He couldn't comprehend how lucky he was to have found her.

But Eira didn't look entirely sure, her anxious expression still on her face as she asked, "Do... do you like them?"

He tore his gaze away from the gloves and looked up at her.

"Like them?" he repeated, his voice soft and slightly awed. "Eira, they're perfect."

The anxiety on Eira's face vanished at his words, replaced with an adorable mixture of relief and excitement.

"You do?" she said, her voice eager and her eyes sparkling as she watched him hold the gloves in his hands.

Azriel just nodded, gently setting the gloves down on her still-untouched bed. He had to fight back the urge to take her into his arms right there and then.

"What did you make out of the rest?" he asked her. She looked at him with wide eyes. “You made the shrug for yourself. You made me the gloves. What else did you make?”

Eira gave him a slow smile.

"You'll see," she said quietly. "Hopefully soon. And now I expect you to win that Snowball Fight tomorrow.“

Azriel raised an eyebrow, both at the change of topic and at the implication of winning that Snowball Fight.

"And what will I get if I win?" he asked, a smirk slowly spreading across his face.

Eira took on a thoughtful expression as if she was actually thinking about his question.

"I don't know," she said slowly, looking like she was considering the idea. "What do you want from me if you win?"

Azriel shrugged casually, trying to ignore the eager, almost greedy shadows.

“A Kiss.”

***

Her sister's birthday dawned bright early, mostly because Eira was already in the kitchen by dawn. It did mean that she got to kiss Azriel goodbye though, before he, Rhys and Cassian disappeared to their annual Snowball Fight...and she got to finish the finishing touches on Feyre's birthday cake.

It was a beautiful morning, one of those days that just seemed perfect, and Eira hummed to herself cheerfully as she finished decorating Feyre's birthday cake.

Despite the fact that her sister was a literal High Lady, she had insisted that her birthday be a quiet affair, no huge celebration or party, just the inner circle and the family.

"Do you...need help?" Nesta's voice came from the doorway.

Eira paused in her decorating, glancing up to find Nesta standing in the doorway.

"I wouldn't say no to the help," she answered with a smile, waving her sister over.

Nesta came over to the counter, silently watching as Eira finished the last touches on the cake.

"It looks good," Nesta said admiringly, studying the cake's smooth dark chocolate surface and the bright silver icing.

"I did stars this year," she said brightly.

"So I see," Nesta said, studying the various silver stars that had been carefully piped onto the cake's surface.

"I think I might've made it a bit too plain, though," Eira said as she looked it over. "I should've added a few more,."

"It looks good as it is," Nesta said, her expression slightly bewildered at the sight of her younger sister worrying over cake decorations. "Feyre will love it, believe me."

"Right," Eira said, taking a step back and studying the cake with a critical eye. "Yes, I think this works."

Nesta looked slightly amused at the way she was looking at the cake, almost studying it, and shook her head, muttering faintly, "You're worse than Feyre with her painting, I swear."

"You did manage to make yourself very clear to Amren though," Nesta said calmly. "I am proud of you."

"I wasn't trying to," she mumbled, heat rising in her cheeks as Nesta chuckled softly. "I was just, y'know, frustrated. I guess I spoke more than I should've."

"You don't have to apologize for putting her in her place," Nesta said, looking amused at the memory of Eira's outburst the previous day. "It was a long time coming, honestly."

"I just-" Eira paused, fiddling with the end of her sleeves.

"It just really made me angry, that she was saying all those things," she mumbled. "I never did anything to her."

"That's because you've always been nice ," Nesta said with a sigh, her gaze and voice surprisingly fond. "In a way that a lot of people tend to overlook. But Amren was pushing it yesterday, and I'm just glad you finally snapped at her."

"It was about time, in my opinion," Feyre chimed in from the doorway, where she was cradling Nyx against her chest. "Amren's been treating you like a doormat for long enough."

"You aren't supposed to be in here!" Eira complained. "Happy Birthday!"

Feyre just smiled, not bothering to look apologetic at all as she said, "Thank you. This looks great."

Nesta just laughed as well, and Eira huffed, but there was no real displeasure in her expression.

"Go away," she said firmly to her sister, shooing both Feyre and Nesta out of the kitchen. "No birthday girl of mine is going to see her cake before they're supposed to."

Feyre let out a mock-offended gasp, but obeyed anyways, ducking out of the kitchen with Nyx still in her arms.

"Spoilsport," she called out over her shoulder, grinning.

Eira just rolled her eyes, even when she was already pulling out all the makings for breakfast.

They spent most of the day playing with Nyx, before Azriel, Rhys and Cassian arrived back, Azriel with his 200th victory in tow.

The three males arrived back not long after lunch time, their clothes rumpled and hair messy from the snowball fight.

Cassian and Rhys headed for the chairs, while Azriel made a beeline for her, looking slightly predatory in a way that made her heart beat faster.

She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks under his gaze, his gaze looking like he was ready to drag her off to a privatepart of the house.

She suppressed the urge to shiver, instead asking with forced innocence, "Did you boys have fun?"

"We certainly did," Azriel answered, his voice a low rumble as he closed the distance between them and gripped the waist, pulling her into his arms.

She let out a soft gasp as she landed against his chest, one of his hands resting on her hip.

"We had a wonderful game," Rhys chimed in from one of the couches, earning an annoyed muttering from Cassian.

"Wonderfully brutal, you mean," Cassian said dryly. "I swear, we were closer to frostbite than we were to a friendly match."

"Sounds like someone is just being a sore loser," Rhys said calmly, earning a scoff from Cassian.

"I am not!" he protested, looking more like a child whose favourite toy has been taken away than a centuries-old warrior.

"Want to help me in the kitchen?" she said quickly.

Azriel shot a warning glare at both Rhys and Cassian, before tightening his grip on her waist and nodding.

"Of course," he said, his voice so low that it rumbled in his chest.

They did manage it into the kitchen. And then his hands were suddenly all over her.

Azriel backed her up against the wall as soon as the door shut behind them, trapping her against the wall with his body.

The shadows swirled around them in an almost excited way, filling the room and blocking out the sounds of the voices in the other room.

"You owe me a kiss," he said, his voice a low rumble against the skin of her neck as he leaned down to press kisses against her neck. She shivered at the feeling of his lips on her skin, the heat of his body pressed up against hers. "I won."

"I guess I do," she answered breathlessly, wrapping her arms around his neck and gently running her fingers through the short, soft hair at the base of his head.

His mouth moved against her neck, his lips teasing and tempting, and she had to stifle a soft moan as his hands gripped her hips.

The shadows were almost dancing around them, swirling like they were as eager as she was. His hands were gripping her hips with a possession that made her feel almost faint with want, and the heat in her lower belly was spreading like wildfire throughout her body.

It was like a flame, igniting every inch of her body as his mouth moved up to press against her jaw, his lips brushing against her skin. She was shaking with the effort of holding back her moans, with the effort of holding herself together.

It was harder than she'd expected, with him so close, his presence almost overwhelming and his touch devastatingly good.

His mouth moved across her cheek, his breathing a low growl as he said, "I love it when you get flushed like this."

She shivered heavily, her hands gripping the collar of his shirt as he pressed his hips against hers in a way that made her pant helplessly.

And then he kissed her lips. Fitted his mouth over hers, his tongue plundering her mouth with no forewarning.

And she responded instantly, opening her mouth and letting his tongue into her mouth. Her mind was going hazy, her thoughts disappearing in an instant as she clutched at his shirt and pressed her body closer to his.

His hands were gripping at her hips like iron, forcing her body to stay still and taking as he claimed her mouth with a possessive ferocity.

She was completely at his mercy, shaking against him as he completely overwhelmed her with the force of his kiss.

His tongue was everywhere in her mouth, sweeping in and claiming her mouth as his own. She let out a desperate moan, the noise swallowed up by his mouth as his body pressed her up against the wall.

She was almost mindless with desire, her every thought and sense focused only on the feel of him against her, on the way his hands were gripping her hips and the hot, heavy feel of his body against hers.

And then he pulled back, panting. Resting his forehead against hers.

She was as flushed as he was, her lips slick and swollen from his kiss as she struggled to get her breathing under control.

His forehead was pressed against hers, the two of them just standing there, trying to catch their breath, as the shadows danced around them.

"Three days," he whispered.

"Three days," she echoed.

She rested her head back against the wall, her eyes fluttering shut as she let out a weary sigh.

Her heart was still racing, the heat in her lower abdomen aching like a throb, but they couldn't simply disappear to a private room when they were surrounded by the entire inner circle.

And she was not going to have her first time with Azriel somewhere public.

So instead, she focused on getting her breathing back under control, the heat of his body still overwhelming.

She forced her eyes open, studying his face. He was just as flushed as she was, his breathing heavy, but his eyes...his eyes were still dark and burning fiercely.

"You still owe me a solstice gift," she said with a weak grin.

Azriel managed a strained chuckle, lifting one hand up to cup her face and brush his thumb over her lip like he couldn't resist touching her.

"Indeed I do," he said, his voice still low and husky. "Let's see if we are already at the gift giving portion of the evening.

They heard the sound of laughter drifting in from the sitting room, and Azriel let out a rueful sigh, leaning his forehead against herss again.

"We should probably go back out to the others," he said quietly, his thumb still rubbing against her lip.

She almost wanted to disagree, to tell him that she wanted to stay right where they were. But reluctantly, she nodded in agreement, letting out a sigh of her own as she pushed herself off the wall.

Azriel's hands slid from her waist and hips, but he took her hand as they made their way back out of the kitchen.

They reappeared in the doorway, and Eira had to force down a flush as all of the others turned to look at them, as if they knew exactly what had been going on in the kitchen.

No one commented though, either because they didn't actually know or because they were being tactful for once, and instead, Rhys simply lifted the bottle of wine and said, "There you are. Come and sit down already."

But Azriel just led Eira over to one of the couches and sank down beside her, one arm wrapping around her shoulder to pull her closer. Not that she was resisting at all.

Eira just let herself lean against Azriel, resting her head on his shoulder and enjoying the solid warmth of his touch.

Gifts were exchanged, for Feyre's birthday and for Winter Solstice.

The wrapping paper piled up as more gifts were handed out, Nyx having more fun with the paper than his actually toys and Eira managed to find herself sitting almost on Azriel's lap with his arm still around her.

Not that she was complaining. If anything, she was simply enjoying the close contact and the heat of his body.

There were little piles of gifts before each of them. Eira was quite proud of the embroidered hair ribbons she had made for Nesta, Valkyrie white silk with little silver flames all over them, while Feyre had gotten an embroidered silk scarf. She had made other things, of course, other than the gloves she had already given to Azriel. A bright red silk dressing gown for Mor, even Cassian had gotten a new leather sheath for his daggers, while she had made a notebook cover for Rhys.

The others seemed to appreciate the gifts for the most part, with Mor giving her an overly dramatic show of affection as thanks. 

Mor herself had oviously decided to go the route of extravagance that year...with Cassian giving an offended noise at the box she handed him, glaring at it and protesting, "I don't need a face cream."

Which only made the rest of the group burst out laughing, even Amren managing a smirk.

"You certainly need something for those scars and freckles, darling," Mor said with a smirk. "I can see your skin deteriorating as we speak."

"It is not deteriorating," Cassian protested. "That's just the rugged look that I was going for."

Eira bit back a laugh at that, still staring at the dagger Cassian had given her, with a wink and the words "Not quite as cool as lightning. But I think Azriel would be happy to teach you."

She was still staring down at the dagger and the scabbard when Azriel gently leaned down to murmur in her ear, "You like it?"

His voice was a low rumble that thrummed through her body, and she almost shivered at the sound.

Eira  didn't hate it. Not as much as she had thought she would. She wasn't quite sure if she wanted to learn to fight. But maybe she didn't need to. maybe she could just learn how to defend herself.

She could feel Azriel watching her closely, and she was sure that he could probably feel the tension in her body.

But she still nodded slightly in response to his question, her eyes fixed on the dagger and scabbard in her hands. And he seemed to get the message, resting his chin on her shoulder and giving her a small squeeze.

The scabbard had been made of fine, supple leather, polished and oiled to shine like satin. But the dagger itself was the real beauty. The slender obsidian blade was polished to a mirror-perfect gleam, and when she pulled the blade out to study it, she noticed the little lightning bolt patterns carved into the blade.

"Here," Azriel said quietly. "That Solstice Gift I owe you."

Eira was only mildly startled as his quiet voice drew her back out of her thoughts, and she blinked at him in surprise.

"You really don't-" she began, but Azriel just shook his head, the shadows swirling with excitement.

"I talked them out of buying you another 3 dozen gifts, but I still wanted to give you something," he told her gently.

Eira couldn't help but feel touched that he'd gone to such trouble, even if she had been firmly telling them not to make such a fuss.

She was still speechless as he pulled a small, silk-wrapped box out of his pocket, handing it to her with an almost nervous smile on his face.

"I thought..well...I...I thought that you could use more pearls," he finally said quietly.

Eira almost gaped at his words as she stared down at the gift in her hands, her heart clenching at the thought that he'd given her pearls.

She carefully unwrapped the gift, her hands shaking slightly as she opened the box and uncovered a King's ransom in Pearls and Diamonds. A Necklace, Bracelet and a set of Hair Combs, all laid tucked into black velvet.

"No Earrings, but everything else," he said quietly.

She was literally speechless as she stared at the jewelry, her heart stuttering in her chest.

It wasn't just the jewelry that stole her breath away, but the thought and care that Azriel had taken in creating it.

He'd given her pearls. Diamonds too, but the pearls just made her throat ache.

Pearls like these very first earrings, like her engagement ring...and now there they were, ready to encircle her throat and her wrist as well.

The pearls were perfect, flawless and shining under the light like they were made of living ice. They looked smooth to the touch and more flawless than anything she'd ever seen before.

"They're beautiful," she told him, her voice a little strangled as she stared down at them. "Azriel...I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," he told her as the shadows swooped around her, like they were eager to see the jewelry on her. "Do you like them?"

It was an oddly vulnerable question, and one that made her heart flutter in her chest.

"I love them."

[b14augrana]

Nenita

You plan a surprise for Irene’s birthday

Irene Paredes x teen!reader

Part of the Scrubber universe

masterlist

Warnings: pure fluff, no warnings needed!

A/N: in honour of irene’s birthday, i decided to write a little fic. there will be a new section in the scrubber masterlist for all the blurbs about cute moments with scrubber and the girls! i hope you enjoy 🫶🏼

Your calendar was very significant. You marked off your birthday, upcoming matches, Christmas, but most importantly… all your big sisters’ birthdays. Each of their birthdays were marked on your calendar in pink glittery gel pen.

You were giddy the night before their birthdays, probably even more excited than they were. Tonight, it was Irene’s big day that you were looking forward to as you laid on your bed stomach-first, filling in a card you made yourself.

Birthdays were a big deal for you because it was probably the most appropriate time to tell someone just how much you loved them.

Your captain was a very special woman. She was your second mother, mentor, and friend, all in one. Everyone needed an Irene in their life, but unfortunately there was just one, and not-so-unfortunately, she ended up with you and your team.

Those were the words you wrote on her card before sealing it in the envelope. With a smile, you placed it on top of the neatly wrapped gift stashed in your closet… that was piled on top of what looked like a dozen more.

The morning of the 4th of July, you were up before Irene. Carefully and quietly, without hitting the walls with your tower of gifts, you walked out of your bedroom with them and placed them on the coffee table. You placed your card in front of them and scrambled to the fridge to pull out the cake you made for her.

You weren’t a professional baker, but you knew how to make simple things like a cake. Irene loved red velvet cake, so when you stacked it all together with a homemade cream cheese frosting you had worked all week on (almost) perfecting, the end product was a birthday cake. You decorated it with the help of Fridolina, using sprinkles and cake toppers she had chosen, then two big ‘3’ candles right in the middle.

You were proud of your cake, even if it wasn’t the best. You figured that it would be nice to test out your baking skills instead of buying a red velvet cake that already cost you an arm and a leg without extra decorations.

Your culinary creations didn’t stop there. Next on the menu was french toast that you dusted with powdered sugar, drizzled with maple syrup, and garnished with strawberries and blueberries. It made you feel like a proper chef, and once you finished constructing your meal, you looked at it in pride. It almost looked good enough to go in your stomach.

“Irene,” you whispered, nudging her bedroom door open as you carried her breakfast and a cup of coffee into her room, on a tray. Your grin was hardly containable.

She rolled over, looking at you through squinted eyes. Her expression brightened and her eyes widened when she realised what was happening, and she sat up while a smile flashed across her face.

“Meu nenita, moltes gràcies,” she replied, her smile widening as you placed the tray on her lap and put the coffee on her bedside table.

“After you eat, come to the living room. I have to give you something!” you chimed, skipping out of the room and leaving the woman to eat her food.

When she emerged out of her room, you were standing in front of your gift tower with your arms behind your back and a beaming smile on your face. You moved to the side, gesturing to your gifts. “Surprise! Feliz cumple, hermana!”

Irene gasped quietly, placing a hand on her chest as she looked at you in surprise. Before even paying another thought to her gifts, she pulled you into a tight hug, squeezing you gently. “Nenita, you didn’t have to. How did you get all of this– no, how did you hide all of this?”

“I can’t tell you that,” you responded, “I’ll have to do it again next year. Open the card!”

You picked up the envelope and handed it to her, almost bouncing off the walls in excitement. She tore it open carefully and pulled out the card, taking a minute to read it before lowering it and looking at you with glossy eyes.

‘Dear Irene,

From the very first day I played with you in Barça, I’ve seen you as a second mother to me, away from my home. Not only do you take care of me and let me live under your roof, but you inspire me and teach me to be better than what I am capable of, on and off the pitch. I am lucky to spend my days with you; a beautiful, loving, and talented person. Being under your guidance and having you by my side during every game has made me the player I am today and I will always be grateful for having you in my life now, and hopefully forever.

Feliz cumpleaños, hermana! T'estimo per sempre.’

You were the one to initiate the hug as you wrapped your arms around her. She was quick to react and do the same, embracing you affectionately. “T’estimo, meu hermanita,” she mumbled.

Once you had pulled away, your grin hadn’t faltered one bit. “When all of the girls get here, we can have cake!”

“What do you mean, all of the girls?” Irene questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Y’know, all the girls. Alexia, Mapi, Frido, Ingrid– who else.. oh, Caro, Marta, Aitana, Lucy and Ona,” you answered, “Now go on, go get ready. The icing is going to start melting!”

[babygirlwritessmut]

♡︎ part3. birthday sleepover

・❥・pairing: vi (arcane) x fem!reader

・❥・ summary: throughout the night of your birthday sleepover, you found yourself feeling increasingly drawn to Vi, who subtly reciprocated with gentle touches and closeness.

・❥・ genre: smut + kinda friends to lovers

・❥・ word count: 2k

✎ warnings: none

WHEN I NEEDED YOU masterlist

all week, Troy kept his distance. it seemed he was genuinely scared of Vi. you saw him in the hall, but he didn’t look at you once. still, you were nervous about what he might do to get back at you.

things were good at college; you were wrapping up your subjects and spending afternoons at Trish’s, planning your birthday. today, before classes, the two of you were at your house making invitations.

“write that everyone should bring pajamas,” Trish said, drawing stars on the invitations. it was your idea - the stars reminded you of Vi. “and I’m choosing the movie; I don’t want to watch any action films.”

you just rolled your eyes. “fine, but no ‘notebook’. I’ve memorized that by heart.”

you were both laughing when your mom walked into your room.

“the invitations look great. how many girls are coming? I need to know how much food to prepare.” your parents were fine with the pajama party at home; you’d agreed they’d go to your grandma’s to give you the space.

“six - Trish and I, and four more from college.” you counted the invitations.

“but I think it should be seven,” Trish smiled at your mom. “she’s just too shy to invite Vi.”

“Trish!” you pushed her arm.

“why not? it sounds like you two have become close lately. you talk about her all the time. besides, I haven’t seen her since she was a kid,” your mom chimed in.

“exactly! it’s all Vi this, Vi that - all day long,” Trish teased, laughing.

“ha-ha. very funny,” you replied sarcastically. “I don’t think she’d come, though.”

“you'll never know if you don't invite her,” your mom said, leaving the room and closing the door behind her.

“could you stop embarrassing me in front of my mom? she already doesn’t believe that Vi and I aren’t dating,” you whispered to your friend.

“no wonder,” Trish whispered back.

you gave in and made an extra invitation for Vi. then, the two of you headed to college.

after the first class, you ran into Vi in the hallway. she was wearing her sports gear, her hair a bit messy, but she looked incredibly attractive.

“hey,” you said, genuinely happy to see her, giving her a big smile.

“hey, how’s it going?” she replied, smiling back. you loved her smile, especially her lips.

“I wanted to give you this.” you handed her the invitation. “it’s my birthday tomorrow, and I’m having a sleepover with some friends at my place. nothing fancy, just movies and a little gathering. my mom will make us a nice dinner,” you said, rubbing your hands nervously, worried she’d say no. maybe it was a bad idea?

Vi looked at the invitation carefully and smiled. “thanks, I’ll definitely come.”

“really? if you have other plans, I won’t be upset,” you started to ramble.

“I’ll be there,” she repeated confidently, reaching out to touch your hand. a warm rush spread through your whole body, and your eyes darted around from the tension. feeling her touch was strangely comforting, and you didn’t want it to end. but somehow, you got self-conscious about your reaction, said goodbye, and hurried home.

that evening, you and your mom decorated the living room and prepared for the next day’s party. spending time with her made you appreciate her even more as you watched how much she cared for you and your dad. once everything was ready, she kissed your forehead and wished you sweet dreams. then you headed to your room, thoughts about tomorrow filling you with excitement until you fell asleep.

in the morning, your parents entered your room with a cake lit with candles.

“I can’t believe you’re growing up so fast, my dear daughter. I thought I’d stop crying after you turned eighteen last year, but I can’t help it,” your mom said, holding out the cake as you blew out the candles.

they wished you a happy birthday, showering you with warm wishes, and handed you a small black box with a ribbon. when you opened it, you gasped in surprise.

“mom, dad, I… I don’t even know what to say,” you whispered, carefully taking out what was inside. in your hands were car keys. “thank you, thank you, thank you!” you hugged them tightly.

after a few more minutes, your parents left, giving you some time to get ready. in high spirits, you picked out your pajamas. knowing Vi would be there tonight, you couldn’t ignore the fact that you wanted to look a little better than usual for a simple pajama party. you settled on short shorts and a tank top - nothing too fancy, but just enough to show off a bit. once dressed, you ran downstairs.

all day, you kept rearranging decorations, setting up pillows and plates, wanting everything to be perfect. in between, you kept answering calls and texts with birthday wishes.

when evening finally arrived, you said goodbye to your parents. they wished you all a great night, and you sat down to wait for the guests. within half an hour, everyone had arrived except for Vi. you started to worry that she might have changed her mind, but Trish reassured you.

“maybe she's just late from practice or choosing your gift,” your friend said, noticing the concern in your eyes.

then, the doorbell rang. you glanced at Trish with a big smile and rushed to open the door. there stood Vi, looking stunning, her pink hair neatly styled, muscular arms visible under her shirt, and a slight smile on her face. your gaze landed on her lips again.

“I was starting to think you’d decided not to come,” you blurted out, unable to hide your worry.

“sorry for being late.” she stepped inside and hugged you, her scent filling the air as you hugged her back. being in her arms felt amazing; her touch stirred something in you, and you bit your lip. “happy birthday; this is for you,” she said as you reluctantly pulled away, handing you a small gift bag.

you began to open it right there, warmth flooding you as you saw a small box containing a star-shaped necklace.

“Vi, it’s amazing. thank you." you ran your finger over the charm. “would you help me?” you took out the necklace and handed it to her.

turning your back to Vi, you moved your hair aside, exposing your neck. she carefully fastened the necklace, and as her fingers brushed your skin, you felt a warm tension low in your belly. when she was done, you turned back to her. “how does it look?”

“you look beautiful” she wasn’t even looking at the necklace, only at your eyes. in that moment, you wanted her to kiss you. Vi slowly moved closer, placing her hand on your cheek, and you leaned toward each other, hearts racing. you held her gaze, neither of you breaking eye contact.

“are you two coming? we’re starting the movie,” Trish called out from the living room.

you blinked, and Vi pulled her hand back, giving you space. “we should go. I wouldn’t want to keep the birthday girl from her own party.”

you looked down and murmured, “maybe the birthday girl wouldn’t mind.” Vi smiled, and the two of you joined the others.

you and Vi sat next to each other on the couch, with the other girls settled on the floor among the cushions. Trish started the movie, and the viewing began. you couldn't focus on the film while Vi was so close, her leg touching yours. you weren’t sure if she noticed, but it sent flutters through you. thoughts drifted back to what had happened by the front door - had your first kiss nearly happened? the very idea took your breath away. what if Trish hadn't interrupted?

then you felt Vi’s leg press closer against yours. without a word, you moved just a little closer to her. you didn't dare turn to look, afraid of how she might react. the girls laughed at a joke in the movie you hadn’t even heard; your attention was locked on your knees, touching hers. then, suddenly, her hand rested on your knee. you held your breath, feeling like the room had emptied and it was just the two of you. checking to make sure no one was watching, you decided to act. you placed your hand over hers, intertwining your fingers and smiling to yourself. you took in her hand, the veins running along her arm, the few rings on her thumb and middle finger - it was a sight you didn't want to let go of.

she squeezed your leg slightly, making you bite your lip. the girls were still engrossed in the movie, oblivious to what was happening. slowly, Vi leaned toward you, tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. she leaned closer, placing a soft kiss in the hollow between your neck and collarbone and whispered in your ear, “this necklace suits you so well.” a wave of satisfaction ran through you from the sound of her voice. you slowly turned to face her, close enough to smell her scent.

“thank you,” you whispered back, making her smile. she looked so good that thoughts filled your mind, and you felt yourself blush, biting your lip again. what is she doing?

the two of you held hands until the movie ended, and then you reluctantly let go. as the girls began chatting about various gossip, you served dinner and invited everyone to the table. during dinner, everyone was animatedly talking, but you kept catching Vi’s gaze across the table. she only looked at you.

“I heard someone beat up Troy at college - is that true?” one of the girls asked, and you snapped your attention to her.

“apparently, he claimed it was a football injury,” Trish added, and you and Vi exchanged a knowing glance.

“do you know anything about it?” all eyes turned to you.

“no, we’re not together anymore, and I don’t follow his life,” you replied curtly.

“what happened between you two?” the girls’ questions made you uncomfortable. you explained that he hadn’t been faithful and asked to change the subject.

after dinner, you cleaned up and returned to the living room. you all stayed up late, chatting while Vi shared stories about her team and games. all the girls listened intently, some even openly admiring her, which made you feel a sting of jealousy. finally, when everyone was tired, you decided to get ready for bed. you set up sleeping arrangements for the girls in the living room, and some chose to sleep in your parents' room. after saying goodnight and getting one last round of birthday wishes, you made your way upstairs.

“where should I sleep?” Vi suddenly asked from behind you. you realized you’d forgotten to set up a spot for her, and all the other sleeping spaces were taken.

“sorry, I just... let’s go to my room,” you said, leading her upstairs. “I miscalculated the spots. you can take my bed, and I’ll sleep on the floor.”

Vi smiled. “you’re going to sleep on the floor in your own room? I’ll take the floor.”

“no way, you’re the guest, and I want you to be comfortable,” you insisted. “take the bed.”

“alright, but only if you do too,” Vi said, crossing her arms. “I’m not letting you sleep on the floor.”

her suggestion caught you off guard, but the thought of spending the night in the same bed as her was appealing.

“alright,” you agreed.

Vi started taking off her shirt, and you asked, “what are you doing?”

“changing into pajamas. isn’t this a pajama party?” she grinned as you tried to avert your eyes from her toned abs. then she teased, “are you going to keep watching, or…?”

you turned around, waiting until she was done. soon you felt her hand on your waist, and she leaned in to whisper, “we should go to bed?”

her touch left you speechless, so you only nodded. you wondered if she felt the same way you did when she touched you. you both got into bed, and Vi asked, “did you like your birthday?”

“I enjoyed it. I’m glad Trish convinced me to do this,” you said, pulling the blanket over yourself.

“glad to hear it. goodnight.” Vi gently traced a finger along your cheek, smiling. “happy birthday, and thank you for inviting me.”

[brummiereader]

MASTERLIST PREVIOUS PART

Uptown Girl (Part Eight)

Summary: After your Grandmothers intervention, Tommy learns the horrible mistake he's made. Will he be able to get to you in time before you commit your life to the man who had used you as a punching bag throughout the entirety of your relationship?

Warnings: Language, angst, mutual pining.

Word Count: 4061

Authors Note: This chapter was supposed to be the final part of Uptown Girl, but it was starting to get too long with too many scenes. So I decided to split it into two. The final chapter will hopefully be posted next Friday!

"Fuck sake" Tommy grumbled under his breath with a frown of annoyance creased firmly between his brows as he stormed into his office past the preparations for your wedding.

Yes, that's right. Your wedding was to be held at Arrow House. The wedding of the woman who he believed had not only played him, but played with his scorned feelings, he'd carelessly let himself slip into a comfortable normality with.

The finer details for the grand event had been meticulously planned for weeks. And with both your denial and refusal to give any attention to the dreaded event, the arrangements and your fate were quietly arranged without your knowledge by the man who would claim you as his wife in a days' time on the grounds of your childhood home. And as the rightful owner of Arrow House, Tommy was now to host the wedding of the woman he had let himself fall in love with. Fuck.

Slumping into his leather chair with a grunt, his melancholy feelings for the thrilling moments you had spent in your shared home resurfaced as his eyes drifted to the bronze horse you had once fought over. The very same ornament that had cemented the beginnings of your passionate love affair.

"What?" he raised his head from the piling mountain of documents that had forgoed his attention to the sculptured figurine stoically stood judging him.

" Shit..." He leaned back into his chair as the gnawing feeling of guilt that had been eating away at him came out in a rumble of disgruntled huffs and heavy sighs of discontent for having treated you so cruelly the previous night.

His fingers itching to call you, to hear your witty comebacks playfully put a spring back into his famously brooding temperament, he looked longingly at the phone sitting beside him. One call away from hearing your voice, from settling the pining within him he felt having been away from you for the first time since his arrival.

Had he made a mistake? Shit, he didn't even give you a chance to explain, Tommy thought to himself as his fingers clutched around the receiver, lifting it to hear the operators voice echo through the line before abruptly slamming it back down as his hurt feelings rapidly shunned out any attempts to make contact with you.

Tommy Shelby was not to be taken for a fool. And yet here he was, foolishly in love with you.

" You got something to say, eh?" Tommy's furrowed brow returned to the ornament with a mumble at the beady-eyed sculpture, disapprovingly looking back at him.

Quick to silence its inaudible accusations, Tommy turned the weighty ornaments' critical stare away from him. Only to be faced with the unsightly alternative. It's ass. A clear portly reflection of what he himself felt like. A total, utter, ass. Fuck.

"Grannie...please!" Johnathan whimpered in pain as your elderly grandmother dragged him by the ear through the large doors or Arrow House after discovering the details of his devious scheming.

"Silence your sniveling, child" she scolded him, when her eyes turned in horror at the ghastly sight before her.

"Good heavens..." Grannie ignored your brother's continued pleas for mercy to be released from her painful grip tightening around his reddening ear as her eyes scanned the room at the bustling arrangements, and large decorated cake being rolled out on a silver trolley in front of her.

" Hm!" Her angry voice hiccuped with displeasure as her wooden cane of punishment came down onto the head of the figured groom atop of the intricately frosted cake. Further submerging him under layers of sponge until he met his sugary death, before marching off to Tommy's office with Johnathan whimpering in tow.

"Yes?" Tommy's creased brow rose to the sound of a knock at his door. If it was someone asking about wedding plans, they could fuck off, he released a breathy sigh, having had enough of hearing, let alone seeing the arrangements made for the grand day he'd keep himself far away from.

" Dowager" his frown softened into a smile upon seeing your Grannie meekly turn the corner.

" I do apologise for this sudden intrusion, Mr Shelby. But the stupidity of my grandson is something I must urgently address. And I will have you hear from him himself, the pain he has inflicted on his sister, and in turn you with his unforgivable actions" your grandmother spoke with a panging hurt pulling at her heart for the generational damage the male members of her kin had burdened the women of her family with.

" Hello" Johnathan peaked his head around the door with a one-handed greeting, apprehensive to face the gangster he had cheated out of hundreds of pounds.

" Make haste, you blithering idiot" your grandmother pushed her cane into his back towards Tommy stood hunched over his desk. Broad shoulders casting a gloomy shadow of fury around him.

" Johnathan" Tommy's jaw tightened as his fisted hands pressed into the mahogany wood, a stone throw away from wringing the neck of the mumbling man stood before him.

" I'm not quite sure how one goes about saying this..." Johnathan pondered nervously, trying to lessen his involvement before somebody took it upon themselves to remove his bollocks. If not by the gangster that ruled Camden, then the one that was thoroughly pissed off in front of him instead.

" In the simplest of terms, eh Johnathan? Since you find me foolish enough to have given you my money" Tommy scoffed at the nervous smile, flashing across your brother's face. His patience for high society's inability to talk straight, gone the moment he became part of their games.

" I...I have a problem, you see. A gambling one" your brother openly admitted. His unexpected confession, garnering Tommy's brooding temper as he fished for a cigarette to dull the mounting headache your family name and its members inflicted daily, if not hourly on him.

" Go on" Tommy ignited the rolled tobacco between his fingers, blowing a pummel of smoke to the ceiling as he waited on an explanation as to how you was a part of your brother's scheming. The only reason he was still entertaining the blubbering shell of a man stood across from him.

" Y/N my dear sister, has unfortunately taken the brunt of my problems" his head lowered as Tommy cleared his throat at the sound of your name and the fluttering beat caught in his chest.

" Always there to pick up the pieces but never the one to roll the dice, poor ol' girl" the weight of your brothers guilt for the way he had unfairly treated you suddenly pushed down onto his shoulders, burying his body into the floor.

" My sister had nothing to with the money I took from the sum you gave to pay off my debts, Mr Shelby. That was all my doing" he let the last of his confession slip through his sorrow for the events he had caused. For the miscommunication and hurt feelings he had cruelly inflicted between you both.

" My little sister loves me, of that I'm sure. But, she loves you far more. Don't doubt her word, Mr Shelby. She'd never do to you what I have done to her" his eyes cast down as a silence settled over the room, both Tommy and Johnathan stood quietly mulling over their feelings of guilt for the way they had treated the woman that had known nothing but a life of hardships at the hands of men.

" I have taken it upon myself to make sure he pays back every penny, every shilling of what is owed to you" Grannie stepped forward, breaking the silence between them as the last remnants of shame painfully pricked at both of the men's hearts.

" Shoveling coal " she announced his new profession as Johnathan gulped down the remaining minutes of freedom he had left before the many hours of hard labour commenced.

"Nose to the grindstone, isn't that so Mr Shelby?" she said as Tommy absently nodded his head, tired with the discussion of money as his preoccupied thoughts burdened him with a heavy feeling of worry that he wouldn't be able to salvage what was left of your relationship in time.

"23 Maple Cottage, Cheltenham. Before it's too late" Grannie gently urged his distracted mind to the phone sitting beside him before leaving him to settle the rushed mistakes he'd made.

Perching himself on the edge of your father's desk, Tommy released a stifled breath from his lungs as he pinched the throbbing pain sitting between his brows.

" Any ideas how I'm gonna get her back, eh? Tommy looked down at the four-legged statue, hoping the inanimate object that had become his counsel for the most troubling of matters would have the answer.

" Yeh, didn't think so" he huffed at the wordless reply as he stubbed his cigarette into the glass dish beside him. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

" Miss Y/L/N" Frances greeted you, surprised to see you stood on the porch of Arrow House as she opened the doors to greet you.

" I just need to retrieve a few things, then I'll be gone" you looked behind her, now suddenly feeling like an outsider as your searched the foyer for any signs of life.

" You're always welcome here, Miss" she sent you an inviting smile as her eyes glossed over with sorrow for the young woman she helped raise and the situation she now found herself in.

" I'm afraid that's no longer the case, Frances" your eyes dragged over the bricks of your childhood home you had been shunned from to your shuffling feet on the gritted ground beneath you.

" Is he here?" you nervously questioned, afraid at any moment you'd face the man responsible for breaking your heart. Responsible for the guilt weighing down your shoulders you had burdened yourself with on behalf of your brother.

" Head buried in paperwork. You'll go unnoticed. Come on, dear" she urged you forward with her hand out for you to take, foregoing the many questions that nagged her thoughts as to what had your and Tommy's growing relationship take a sudden blow.

As you made your way through the foyer of your childhood home, you apprehensively turned your head to your father's former office. Expecting Tommy to be stood there, ready to give you your marching orders with thundering steps and pointing fingers for a second time.

But with the gangster seemingly occupied with the many business matters he'd let lapse during the time you had spent together, you passed the preparations for your wedding unseen and unheard as you made a beeline for the top of the winding stairs that would safely separate you from the house's new owner.

Stood in your bedroom, you furiously pushed back your tears from your reddening cheeks as you struggled to close the small suitcase filled with memories of your life spent at Arrow House.

" Come on!" You shook the leather case on top of the antique cabinet, frustrated with the flimsy clasp that was doing little, if not anything, to help you stash your belongings and make a speedy departure. The whole flustered scene and rickety furniture that had blown your cover watched under the gaze of the very man who had thrown you out. " Bloody thing!"

" Y/N?" Tommy's gravelly voice echoed to you from the frame of the door he'd been stood against as the buckle effortlessly slipped into place. Typical.

" I...I'm just leaving" your mousy voice quietly spoke through a shudder of nerves as your cheeks blushed red at the unexpected sound of Tommy's voice feet from you.

" Don't" he swallowed back his own apprehension to face you, having cocked up the very start of your budding relationship in one rushed assumption and trail of hurtful words he now shamefully regretted.

Clutching your fingers tightly around your small satchel, you turned on your heel before you were met with his approaching footsteps rapidly closing in.

" Y/N, wait" his hand grasped hold of your bag as you swerved past him and away from what you assumed was an attempt to withhold your life's memories tightly packed in your suitcase.

" Please, there's nothing here of value. You've taken my home, let me keep these" your lids welled with tears as you pulled at the small satchel, eyes cast down and away from the man battling with you over items that held no importance to him.

" Y/N, would you just hear me out" Tommy struggled with you until finally letting go. Causing the contents to spill out onto the floor as you scrambled to retrieve them.

"Sweetheart, enough!" Tommy pleaded with your frantic state as he watched your shaky hands desperately try to salvage the small collection of trinkets. Had he done this to you? Given the final blow to an already broken woman, Tommy thought to himself, crouching down as he gently reached his hand out for yours. If only to briefly calm the panic within you" Hey..."

" What?! What Tommy?" You cried, snapping your head up as you pulled your hand away.

" You've taken everything from me! What more do you want?" Your anger for him came out in a strangled sob as you tried to grasp onto the last breath of air in your lungs. Chest heaving, body aching. You had succumbed to the many years of stress that had bored down on you.

" You" he replied, his chest squeezing tightly around his thumping heart as he searched the face of the girl that always had one last push in her to continue on.

" I...fuck..." he sighed, his words getting caught in his throat after the countless speeches he'd prepared, the countless times he'd tried to call your grandmother's house to no avail. Pumping himself up time and time again, only to be met with a ringing tone at the opposite end of the line.

" I was wrong, darling. Wrong about it all" his hands brushed up your arms, fingers curling around the thin fabric of your silky blouse. Wanting to pull you into his arms. Preying you'd let him and all would be forgotten.

" No..." You shook your head, brow creasing with anger for him having discovered the truth you couldn't convince him of the previous night.

" You don't get to do this, Tommy. You're too late" you said through the sobs caught in your chest, shrugging him off as you stood up to leave.

"Y/N!" He called after you, watching the end of your skirt flow out of sight as he scrambled onto his feet after you.

"Hey!" His voice echoed down the stairs as he rushed after you, clambering to save the little that was left of your feelings for him.

Turning to see his thundering steps racing after you, you stifled back the fury that had replaced the guilt you had let yourself feel as you juggled with the bag in your hand.

" You not gonna talk things out with me, eh? Come on, I'll pour you a whisky and we'll..." Tommy impatiently tried to mend the fracture separating you both as you let the weight of the flimsy suitcase in your hand fall onto the table beside you, battling with it once again.

" Like you gave me the courtesy of the other night, Tommy?" You seethed back, cutting him off as your eyes drifted to the small clock on the marble table out of place, fingers itching to put it back to its previous location.

" I have to go" you snapped your eyes away from the turning hands behind the glass, silently bringing an end to the day.

" Y/N" Tommy watched you turn to leave, before grabbing the ticking wooden box and placing it back in your preferred spot on the ivory-stoned table. A feeble, but undoubtedly desperate attempt to please you in any way or form before you shut the doors on him for good.

" Just five minutes, eh?" He jogged over to you, trying to reason with your stubbornness.

" No, Tommy!" You pulled his hands off you that had slipped around your waist in your frantic attempt to flee.

He had hurt you, broken your heart in the quickest and cruelest of manners when he expelled you from the house you had been born in.

Stubborn to the core, but no longer in the competitive nature that had filled your days since his arrival. The playfulness you had both enjoyed, now replaced with a hardened willfulness to protect yourself from him breaking what was left of your heart.

" I have to go. I have a big day tomorrow" you said through the forced smile of deceit etched on the corners of your mouth. Fake it until you make it, had now suddenly become your daily mantra to block out the dread you felt inside.

" Wha.." Tommy scoffed, his brow knitting together as he rested the weight of his body from one foot to the other. " You're gonna marry that bastard?" He's jaw tethered with tension, hand motioning to the door behind you and the risk you were ready to take.

" What choice do I have, Tommy?" You echoed the words you'd tell yourself before you fell headfirst for the unwanted guest you once resented. Holding out hope that the one consistency in your life would change for the better more than Tommy who had been so quick to abandoned you to his own paranoia.

"You have a choice. One right here, with me. Like we promised" he stepped forward, brushing a lone tear from your cheek.

" Until when though, Tommy? Until you next throw me out in the middle of the night? Cal's a sure thing" You turned your head away from the calloused pads of his fingers cradling the side of your face, from the breathy sigh of guilt slipping past his lips.

" Look after her" your gaze darted up to the high ceilings of your former home, tears trickling down your face as you parted with your last hope and the man you had fallen in love with.

" Y/N!" Tommy threw his hands up in the air as he watched you walk through the large wooden doors. Leaving with your bag in hand like a guest rather than the permanent figure in his home, the years of your life spent together replacing the dull walls of Arrow House he had hoped for.

Fuck, he couldn't let you get married. Wouldn't let you get married. And if he wasn't able to convince you of it himself, then he would with the catalyst that would not only bring a halt to the day, but take down the bastard that had been planning it.

With the hour of your vows rapidly drawing near, Tommy stormed to his office. Pulling the small black book of connections and information learnt from within the drawer of his wooden desk.

Picking up the receiver of the brass telephone sat beside him, Tommy's fingers scrolled down the many names he had collected intel on. Harold Sterling, Dicky Jones. The two pompous men he had spectacularly exposed at your engagement ball to the one name that ignited a furious rage within him. Cal Astor.

" Switchboard" the operator at the end of the call announced as the lines connected.

" Maryval convent, Perry Bar Birmingham. The Orphanage"

" I'm sorry" Johnathan eyes cast down as he turned to you, both stood outside the doors of the church as the sound of the choir announced your arrival through the angelic notes echoing against the cobbled stone.

" Enough" you faced him, straightening his limp tie back into place as his teary eyes watched his younger sister tend to everyone but herself on what was supposed to be the most important day of her life.

"Sissy..." He grabbed hold of your hand as you patted down the creases in his suit. Distracting yourself from the event about to unfold. " Tommy, did he not..." he began before you cut him off and settled the questions his mind had been nagging him with all morning.

" He did" you gave him the answer you knew plagued his thoughts, one you wanted to distance yourself from. " This is my choice, Johnathan" you adjusted the ivory veil over your shoulder as you threaded your arm into his. " Shall we?" You smiled through your apprehension as the heavy doors opened, and you stepped into the depraved future you knew awaited you.

Holding onto your brother's arm, you grasped at his tailored suit as the many guests turned to face you. The blinding light shining past the alter, casting colours of reds and blues through the stained glass, obscuring the curling smile of the man who you would call your husband in a moments time.

Slowly you paced along the tiled floor as your eyes searched among the smartly dressed gathering of people. Chest heaving as you realised the one person you wished to see, the one person that could stop you from taking the next step your stubborness refused to let you run from, was absent.

" Sweetpea" Cal took your hand, pulling you up to stand in unison with him as the sounds of your Grannies weeping, muffled though the hankie chief clutched tightly in her hand, echoed through the bricked room. Tears anybody would look endearingly upon, but ones that only held sorrow and hopelessness for the promise to your mother she was unable to uphold.

" We are gathered here today to celebrate the joining of hands..." The priest began as Cal's eyes roamed over your body, the dress he had picked out on your behalf pleasing him enough to let his mind wander to the night he would enjoy spent in private with you. A night where you would no longer be able to refuse your duty to him.

"Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace" the words of the gowned man bounced between the four corners of the small chapel, silent with no sounds of protest.

"Then let us begin" the priest smiled to you as he urged you and Cal to join hands, when the door creaked open and the unexpected sight of a smartly dressed man with two gentlemen accompanying him slipped through. Tommy. He was too late...too late.

Grasping his fingers around yours, Cal's jaw snapped with anger as he watched Tommy take a seat with his brothers in an empty pew. His irritation at the bold move, further igniting his fury when he caught the longing stare shared between you both as your eyes drifted towards Tommy at the far end of the church.

Digging his heavy signet ring into the fleshy palms of your hand, Cal pulled your attention away from the gangsters' presence to the ceremony taking place.

" Now, Tom?" Arthur quietly leaned into his brother as his long legs, itching to be free from the small seating area, struggled to stay still.

" Not yet, brother" Tommy's eyes drifted back to your glowing beauty and the glittering rays of light cast on your shimmering dress. Imagining himself stood there with you making the vows of love and dedication he wished he could have articulated to you the day before.

" Do you Cal Meredith Astor, take this woman to be your wife, to live together in holy matrimony, to love her, to honor her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?" a snort of laughter from the third-youngest Shelby at the unusual middle name, abruptly delayed Cal's response.

" I do" Cal's eyes darted to the giggling gangster, and the smirk of satisfaction Tommy had for the embarrassing echoes of laughter filling the room.

" And do you Y/N Y/L/N, take this man to be your husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?" Tommy held his breath, as your eyes darted away from Cal's face to the pull of Tommy's pleading stare, begging you to choose him over the man that would beat you blue every waking hour for the rest of your life.

"I d..."

NEXT PART (FINAL)

Tag list: @weaponizedvirtue @un-interneted (unable to tag) @mama-ivy @kmc1989 @leighla3

@emotionalcadaver @mamawiggers1980 @sweetcheesecakesblog @cljordan-imperium

@peakyswritings @tiedyedghoulette @mostly-marvel-musings @classygirlything21 @dana-rmz

@mrsnms @vlryexsworld @themorriganisamonster @thelastemzy

[dorabellingham]

Tea time

warning: none

characters: jude x mom!reader

summary: when your daughter wants to have a tea party, but he is too tall for the chairs

request: yes

may contain spelling and translation errors!

The afternoon was sunny in Madrid and the Bellingham family’s living room was filled with laughter and toys scattered about. Three-year-old Amala was beaming, already dressed in an orange sundress that matched the decor of her tea party perfectly. Her cheeks were slightly pink with excitement, and her eyes were bright with anticipation of what was to come.

—Daddy, you’re coming to my tea party, right?

Amala asked, with a determined expression, as she placed the toy tea cups on the children’s table. The little girl had everything planned, from the plastic snacks to the soft music playing in the background.

—Of course, my love! I’m on my way!

Jude replied, a wide smile on his face as he entered the room. He was tired after a long day of training, but his daughter’s joy was contagious. He looked at her, delighted, and was immediately overcome by a wave of fatherly love. Amala pulled on his arm, gesturing for him to come closer to the table.

—Sit here, daddy!

She said, pointing to one of the colorful little chairs, which seemed more suitable for a doll than for a 6’1” man like Jude.

Jude looked at the small chair, then at you, who was watching the scene with a knowing smile on your face.

—Honey, I don’t think I fit in this chair…

He said, with a playful tone.

—You have to fit, daddy! It’s my little tea party.

Amala insisted, her eyes fixed on her father, full of determination. For her, there was no other option. Her dad needed to be part of her doll’s tea party.

—Okay, I’ll try, honey.

Jude said, knowing that if there was one thing he would always do, it was to make hos little girl happy. He bent down to be at her height, but when he saw the chair, the smile turned into an expression of slight hesitation. The chair looked like it was made for a toy, and he didn't want to ruin his daughter's moment.

You, already sitting in one of the chairs and trying not to laugh at the situation, decided to help.

—Come on, Jude! It'll only be a few minutes! —You laughed while he kept his eyes wide open— And if you can't, you can always say it's because the chairs are too small for you.

Jude, catching on to the idea, made a worried face and let out an exaggerated "Oh no!" as he began to slowly lower himself towards the chair. The sound of the creaking wood echoed through the room as he tried to find a way to accommodate his long legs. Amala watched with anxious anticipation, holding the tea toys.

Finally, Jude managed to sit down, but it was clearly a difficult task. He had to bend his legs in a way that seemed uncomfortable, and soon the chair began to wobble under his weight. Amala let out a loud laugh, which made Jude roll his eyes comically.

—I'm not very good with small chairs. —Bellingham admitted, grimacing as he balanced himself. —But for you, my love, I'll do whatever it takes!

The little girl laughed, satisfied, and began to serve the “tea”. She filled the toy cups and began to distribute them.

—Here, daddy! And here, mommy!

She said, handing a little cup to each of them. Jude made sure to imitate his daughter's gesture, raising the cup to his mouth and making a dramatic expression of pleasure.

—Delicious! This tea is made with the best leaves from the magical forest! —Jude declared, as if he were a true connoisseur. —And what do we have to go with it?

Amala smiled even wider, starting to describe the plastic snacks they had on the table.

—There are fake cookies, fake cupcakes and… a fake cake too!

She was so proud of her little party that it was impossible not to be enchanted by the scene.

You couldn’t help but feel a warm feeling in your heart, seeing your daughter’s enthusiasm and Jude’s effort to get comfortable. It was a simple moment, but full of love and joy. You didn’t know how to describe how much your life had changed since your girl arrived. Every day was a new adventure, and every laugh from your daughter was a reminder of the love you shared as a family.

—Amala, my love, I loved the tea party. Mommy's so proud of you —You praised, making the little girl shine. —You’re the best hostess in the world!

—Thank you, mommy! —Amala replied, so happy she almost jumped out of her chair. —Daddy, will you help me have more parties like this?

—Of course! We can have a tea party every day, if you want. —Jude said, looking into his daughter’s eyes with the same seriousness he used during games. —Just let me know when the chairs get bigger!

The trio continued your tea party, with you making faces and grimacing as Amala served you with her toy treats. You laughed, joked and enjoyed the moment as if it were the most important thing in the world. For you, it really was.

After a few rounds of tea and smiles, the little girl, tired, decided it was time for a break.

—Daddy, mommy... I'm sleepy.

—Oh, really, honey?

Jude asked, already getting up with much more difficulty than he should have.

—Let's put you to bed then, cutie.

As Jude picked up his little female copy in his arms, the little girl snuggled into his shoulder and gave you a brief wave, which you returned with a sweet smile on your face.

—You know this is the most perfect moment of your life, right?

Jude, with a satisfied smile, nodded.

—Of course. That's all I could ask for. You know, even with those tiny chairs, I would do anything for her.

—You’re an amazing father, Jude. —You said, hugging him and leaving a small kiss on your daughter’s forehead. —I love you even more for being like this.

He smiled, his heart warmed by your words. He wouldn’t trade that moment for anything, even if it meant spending a few hours sitting in tiny chairs.

[tarjapearce]

Happy Birthday, Papa!

Warning: Tooth rotting fluff.

Summary: It's Miguel’s birthday.

A/N: OMG IS HIS BIRTHDAY 🎉🎉🎉😭🎁

You knew that when Miguel was with his arms sprawled on the bed and his back faced you, he was deep asleep.

Sliding off the bed carefully, you went to Gabi's room and Benjamin's. Both with a It's Papa's birthday, you ready?

Benjamin was a little reluctant to wake up, but eventually he did. Sliding off his bed he went to the kitchen with you.

"Let's not make much noise ok? Let Papa sleep for a bit longer."

Benjamin smiled sleepily as he got to fetch his gift. Gabi on the other hand helped you with breakfast while Rosie was still asleep in her crib.

You made Miguel's favorite meal. Green  Chilaquiles for breakfast. One of the first things he cooked for you when you began dating. Gabi then started to wrap her present as you finished breakfast and brewed a special blend of coffee he adored.

Luckly, you had done a little cake, Gabi and Benjamin had decorated it. Gabi did the letters and Benji the little swirls of meringue.

In the motions, a few hours had gone by. He had had a rough week at work. Stress got him tired and even less talkative than usual. He was almost silent.

Five minutes before his alarm would go off, Benjamin, Gabriella and a now awake Rosie would enter your room when he was still asleep. You motioned for your children to come in as you put Baby Rosie on the bed, you then went to fetch his breakfast. His alarm went off.

Miguel rubbed his eyes and yawned, a bit surprised to see Rosie next to him instead of you.

"Happy Birthday to you~"

You started singing from the doorframe as you entered with a tray on hands, Gabi and Benji joined you with giggles.

"Happy birthday, dear Papa"

You put the tray on his nightstand to then kiss him. Benjamin scrunching his nose with a little 'ew'

"Happy birthday to you."

Rosie cooed at him as his children clapped and cheered him.

"I love you." You smirked and took Rosie off the bed, "All on Papa! Go go go!" The room was filled in with laughter and squeals as Gabi and Benji tried to tackle him down. A grin on his face.

There was a deep and sheepish yet genuine laugh coming from him. Sometimes he often felt like dreaming. Like he had been doused and high in dopamine. The family he sometimes fantasized wasn't a mere idea anymore.

It was very much real and his little children gave him so much joy, but they wouldn't exist without you. What he did to deserve you, he didn't know. But he knew that asking your forgiveness and rekindle things all those years ago had beyond worth it. Every day of his life spent with you and his children were the best gift someone could ever give him.

It filled his chest with something so overwhelmingly warm and peaceful. Like he always wanted.

"Look Papa! Got you something" Benjamin sat before him and handed a  small bundle he had wrapped himself.

"Gracias campeón. Let's see..." (Thanks, champ)

He unwrapped the little bundle carefully, revealing a little card you had helped Benjamin to write along a bag of a expensive coffee blend you had eyed him considering, but chose to buy the snacks for Gabi and Benji.

I love you, Papa :)

A little smiley face he had started drawing in every surface.

"You picked this too, champ?" Benji beamed at him and hugged him. Miguel kissed his head, "Gracias, gracias, gracias, Pequeñín. Me encanta. " (Thank you little one. I love it)

"Happy Birthday Papa" Gabi squeezed him and gave him a red paper bag decored with some of his favorite stuffs. Coffee mugs, lab tools, a little Lego figurine and spiders.

"Gracias Solecito" Gabi watched expectantly as he opened the gift. A pair of bunny slippers his size, and a customized little watch with a spider logo she often saw in his things.

"Got some of my allowance to get it customized for you." He kissed the top of her head and smiled sheepishly. He was overwhelmed, in the good sense of the word.

"Gracias, princesa. Imma wear it for work."

"This one is from Rosie" You pulled a little blue paperbag with a little card with her footprint on it next to a heart. He chuckled at the detail and opened the bag. A new pair of special sunglasses. His old ones fell when they got to another pool day.

They'd help with his photophobia. His arms reached for Rosie and kissed her forehead.

"Thank you, mi Rosita Fresita. I love it." He kissed repeatedly at her cheeks, earning him a bubbly giggle.

"And finally, my gift."

Miguel chuckled with a tiny smirk.

"That's for later, mi amor. But here."

You gave him a little black envelop and sat next to him.

"Remember when you told me about this astrophysics and research conference you wanted to go but you were kept in the waiting line?"

His eyes widened as his hands carefully pried the envelop open. An invitation with his name was written in golden serif caps.

"Mi amor... This.... You shouldn't have"

"Well, too bad cause you're going."

You kissed him with a reassuring smile.

"I've got this. Imma be fine."

"You must go, Pa" Gabi urged him. He couldn't say no to that. Or any of the love he was getting.

"Alright, alright. I will."

"Now, make a wish, cariño."

The little cake was the last straw. He blew the candles.

"Mordida! Mordida!" (Bite! Bite!)

Gabriella chanted and as Miguel bit, he got smeared in cake frosting. But this time he got his little revenge. He painted Gabi a bit of whiskers in her cheeks, a dollop on Benji's nose. He pressed a little tiny drop on Rosie's cheek and then pulled you to kiss him.

"Ew" Gabi and Benji spoke almost at unison as you were also smeared in cake frost and crumbles. The kiss even sweeter than before.

"Happy birthday cariño."

-----

You put Rosie in her crib for her nap and as soon as you got in your room, strong arms hugged you, cradling you closer. His frame nearly engulfing you.

"¿Estás bien?" (Are you ok?)

He said nothing but hugged you tighter. Your hands rubbed on his back soothingly. A deep breath warmed your shoulder.

"Thank you." When he broke the embrace you cupped his cheeks and he kissed one of your palms. Red eyes seized you in soft look only you were worthy to get. A look of unbridled love.

"Thanks for always making it better."

You beamed and you hugged his waist at his words.

"We're just giving back all the love you give us, corazón."

"I promise to make it-"

"Miguel. Mi amor. It's your day. Your day, big guy." You smooched and giggled, "Enjoy it."

He crushed you in his arms and you giggled in between squeals.

"Can I have my late present now?"

"Nu uh. We gotta get ready."

His brow raised in suspicion as you smirked

"Whatever for?"

"Another surprise. After that and when the kids are asleep? I'm all yours."

You kissed him once more before going to the door. His words stopped you.

"Mi reina?"

"Hm?"

He blew a kiss to you, earning a giggle.

"Te amo"

"También te amo, Papasito."

You blew the kiss back and went back to get Benjamin ready.

It was his birthday, and best one so far.

[milswrites]

Hobbies Part 4.

~Azriel X Reader~

Summary: In an attempt to keep Azriel away from Elain, Rhys sends him on a sabbatical to the Day Court. With a lot more free time on his hands Azriel needs to find something to keep him occupied. Unfortunately he meets Y/N who has the annoying habit of not staying away. Can she teach him that there’s more to life than he thought?

Grumpy!Azriel X Sunshine!Reader

Series masterlist

Warnings: tiny tiny bit of angst but this is mainly fluff :)

Notes: Thank you guys for all the love on this series! I love reading all your comments <3

“No Azriel! That’s way too much sugar!”

Frustrated, Azriel sighed, halting his pouring of the sugar into the mixing bowl and heavily slamming the bag onto the counter, where it fell over and sugar spilled out of the bag covering his kitchen top.

Trying to keep his cool, Azriel replied through gritted teeth, “Fine. You do it then! This is a lot more work than I thought it would be anyways”.

Y/N placed her small hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him, giving it a gentle and reassuring squeeze. It did the job, Azriel breathing in deeply through his nose and immediately apologising for his outburst.

“It’s alright,” she smiled, removing her hand from him so she could start to clean up the mess he had made, “it’s not that big of a deal. I just didn’t want you to rot your pretty little teeth with all that sugar.”

Sighing, Azriel moved to help Y/N, “I’m sorry, I’m not very good at this, you would have been better off doing it alone.”

“Nonsense, the point of this is that you’re trying something new. It wouldn’t be very good if you gave up this easy”

Azriel would never understand how Y/N could always be so happy and calm, especially when dealing with his bad moods and sudden angry outbursts constantly ruining their time together. No matter how much Azriel tried to shove her away or how many times he got mad at her, Y/N was always there, smile on her face, a soothing presence to help draw him back from the darkness. Y/N was an angel sent by the mother.

He couldn’t imagine anyone else he knew being patient enough to teach him how to bake, but here Y/N was. She had turned up at his door, bag of goods in hand and announced they were going to make a cake together before matching into his flat.

Azriel was glad he had started opening his curtains and fixed the holes his knives had left in the wall, which as the days went by started looking a little less like Rhysand’s face. He had even moved the sketchbook and pencils Y/N had gifted him off the floor of his flat. He wouldn’t have liked to have seen her distraught face if she had entered his flat only to have seen them gathering dust on the floor.

So here they were, squashed together in his small kitchen, attempting to bake a cake. Once the sugar was cleared, they continued with the recipe. Only this time Y/N hovered her hands close to Azriel’s whenever he poured something into the bowl to ensure there weren’t any more mishaps. Though he wasn’t sure how much that helped, the ghost of her touch making his hands shake nervously.

Batter complete, Y/N carefully transferred it into the container for baking and placed it into the oven. “Now we wait” she hummed, licking the cake mixture from her fingers before removing her apron, Azriel’s eyes transfixed on the movement.

“Uh, would you like to go sit down while we wait?” Azriel awkwardly stuttered, as if not sure how to converse now that there was a break in activity.

Y/N completely unaware of the awkward atmosphere that Azriel had imagined, happily skipped over to his living room before hopping onto one of his sofas, bring her legs up and tucking them under her. Azriel followed like a lost puppy and made to sit on the same sofa as her before he changed his mind, not wanting to make Y/N uncomfortable and sat in the chair opposite.

“I see you’ve taken up decorating,” Y/N teased, sight set on the wall where the holes at once been, where Azriel had done a terrible job of attempting to plaster them back up, “maybe don’t quit your job. I don’t really see a future for you in interior design.”

Azriel acknowledged her joke with a scoff but failed to reply. Instead, his focus was on Y/N’s dress now she had removed the apron which had been hiding it since she arrived at his door. Her dress was a lovely shade of cobalt blue, similar to that of his siphons, and was different to the normally bright colours she wore that reflected the usual Day Court attire. If he squinted he could trace the delicate silver threads that trailed over the material depicting swirls and markings that reflected that of the Illyrian tattoos he and his brothers bore. Azriel shook his head, no, the details were too small for him to make out from this distance, he was just seeing what he wanted to see.

“Your dress is pretty, is it new?” He asked wanting to sate his curiosity. At this Y/N blushed a deep shade of red and sat up a little straighter, “oh…um yes I had some free time earlier this week and I was feeling inspired so I made a few new things”.

“It looks… it’s great” Azriel cursed himself for giving such a poor response but he was too stunned by his shadows whispering to him that Y/N had made it with him in mind. His shadows message was what drew him back to reality. There was no way in hell that Y/N would use him as inspiration. His shadows, though they weren’t normally, were wrong.

Wanting nothing more than to distract himself from his swimming thoughts and shadows teasing that Y/N admires and appreciates him, Azriel joked, “no dress for me?” If possible Y/N turned an even deeper shade of red, “I don’t think you’d fit in this Az.”

Still unable to tear his eyes from her dress, which hugged her curves so beautifully it was Y/N’s turn to change the topic, “so how have you been enjoying the Day Court?”

“It’s not the Night Court, but it’s not bad. It has some redeeming qualities.” At his words Azriel’s eyes trailed up Y/N’s body, over her slightly exposed chest and finally stopped when they met her eyes which were staring right back at him.

Hiding their unspoken words with humour must have been something both Azriel and Y/N shared as she replied, “I’m suprised you didn’t burst into flames at the first sign of daylight. Isn’t it always dark where you’re from?”

“What?” Azriel laughed, thoughts of Y/N’s dress long gone. “You think it’s always dark in the Night Court?”

Embarrassed Y/N stutters, “Well… it’s just… it’s called the Night court!”

By this point Azriel had lost it, tears forced their way out from his eyes as he laughed and laughed at Y/N’s foolishness. Y/N looked as if she didn’t know whether to be amused by Azriel’s reaction or utterly distressed at how stupid she had made herself appear in front of him.

“You get nighttime in the day court don’t you?” Azriel spoke in-between laughs. Now defensive upon realisation that she really had been a fool, Y/N tried to help her situation, “well it’s not as if I’ve ever been to another court”.

Azriel’s laughter stopped at this, he forgets that not everyone has been to as many places as he had. That many people never actually saw the outsides of their own court. That was one fortune of his job role as spymaster.

“What do you even do for Helion?” Azriel asked, realising that he didn’t even know. It was easy to forget that Y/N was sent here by Helion, that she wasn’t spending time with Azriel out of her own free will no matter how much he wished for it to be so.

“I am a courtier. I deal internally within the Day Court. Make sure the people are happy, give their feedback to Helion.”

“So your whole job…is just to make people happy?”

“It’s a little more than that but yes I make people happy. Can’t be doing my job very well if you haven’t realised that though”

There it was again. The horrible reminder to Azriel that you weren’t here for pleasure, it made something ugly grow inside of him, the realisation that you were only pretending to be his friend.“Right. I forget you’re being paid to be here.”

“Actually no, I’m not. I took the day off today” Y/N said it dismissively, as if it wasn’t important.

But to Azriel, to him it meant everything. Y/N had taken the day off and had decided out of her own free will that she wanted to come and spend her precious time off with him. Azriel knew from his own count how few and far between getting days off are. Hope glimmered in his chest that perhaps whatever this thing growing between them was, she felt it too. That Y/N wanted to explore it just as badly as Azriel did.

The distance between them suddenly felt too much. Azriel shifted forward, all senses telling him he needed to get closer to the woman sat on the sofa before him.

He wondered if he asked the question, asked why she was here, she’d be honest and tell him it was for him. Tell him she wanted him just as badly as he found himself wanting her.

But of course, as soon as Azriel opened his mouth, as if knowing what he was about to say, Y/N jumped to her feet interrupting the moment. “Oh cauldron the cake!” It was only now Azriel noticed the burning smell slowly creeping through the flat, the two had been so engrossed in each other, in their conversation, that they hadn’t realised just how long they had been sat there.

Azriel launched on his own feet, tailing Y/N as she sped to the kitchen and tore the cake from the oven, the top of which was black and smoking.

“Well at least it’s not on fire” Azriel said and at the same time Y/N huffed “so much for a birthday cake.”

She said it quiet. So quiet that Azriel probably wouldn’t have caught it if it wasn’t for his shadows repeating it to him as they whispered in his ear.

“Your birthday? You wanted to spend your birthday with me?” Azriel was caught off guard with this information. Y/N, who had been stood there blowing on the cake as if it would suddenly catch on fire, stopped what she was doing and casually replied “yeah?” So casually in fact that she acted as if it was obvious that she would want to spend the day with Azriel, holed up in his flat baking together.

“But what about your family? Friends?” Azriel was still in disbelief that someone would choose to be with him.

“No family. And I guess I work so much and spend so much time making sure everyone else is happy that I forget about myself, so no friends really” she shrugged, as if it didn’t really bother her and Azriel supposed he could relate. He didn’t have any other friends outside the inner circle. And yet where Azriel was cold and moody, even with his found family, Y/N was alone and she acted as if she was the happiest person on the planet. Every time Azriel found himself understanding the Day Court woman, he learnt something new that completely altered what he thought of her.

“Come on are we going to decorate this or not! I hope your cake decorating skills are better than your wall ones” Y/N smiled up at him, “Ooh I totally forgot, I should have given it to you earlier, don’t want to get messy” she began routing through the bag she had brought, until she must have found what she was looking for as she pulled out a spare apron. An apron which was the same shade of bright yellow as her own.

Azriel opened his mouth to protest but his traitorous shadows reminded him that Y/N had decided to spend her birthday with him and urged him to go along with what she says to keep her happy. With a grumble Azriel put on the sun-coloured item, a flat look on his face as he glanced down at Y/N who was positively beaming.

“The mother sent you to torture me didn’t she” Azriel was sure he said it in relation to the uncharacteristically bright clothing she had made him wear but now, eyes hovering over her body once more, he wondered if he was talking more about the agony of being in her presence and not acting on the feelings stirring within him.

“You caught me”, she giggled playfully as she busied herself preparing the ingredients needed for the icing, “I was sent here to make your life miserable”

Unable to stop the words coming from his mouth Azriel couldn’t help but say, “well you’re not doing a very good job of that” That earned him a wink and an air kiss from Y/N, Azriel found himself wishing to know what her lips would feel like elsewhere. What they would feel like on his.

Thankful that Y/N had chosen to make the icing herself, Azriel watched on as she stirred the bowl, happily chatting away to him about her week and all the people she had helped at work.

It was in this domestic bliss that he allowed himself to dream. To imagine what his life would be like if Y/N was from the Night Court. He imagined coming home from work to find her in the kitchen baking, a kiss on his cheek in greeting as she tells him all about his day, about the dresses she made. It was a life Azriel could never have, not while they both had loyalties to their own courts, but he allowed himself to dream.

A tentative touch to his hand pulled him back to reality. Y/N was holding the tips of his fingers, face full of concern as she looked up at him, “Are you ok?”

Azriel’s breath caught in his throat at their closeness, heat crossing his cheeks, “Yeah, never better. Are we going to start?” Y/N’s smile returned but her eyes still flashed with worry, “Show me what you got bat boy.”

The cake wasn’t pretty. A mash of different brightly coloured icing mixed together in an unorganised mess. Some of which was smudged on their hands, faces and aprons as they struggled to try and make the cake look appetising after it had been burnt. Now they both stood admiring their hard work which stood lopsided on the kitchen counter.

“I guess we eat it now right?” Y/N said, reaching over for the knife on the top to cut into it.

“One minute” Azriel’s words stopped her reaching and he rooted through the cupboard above him looking for something. “Aha” he said victoriously, pulling out a single candle, the type made for lighting a room, not a birthday cake. But all the same, Azriel stuck it in the middle of the uneven cake and lit the flame. It wasn’t perfect but Azriel as proud, proud he had made something for once instead of the usual destruction he leaves in his wake.

“Make a wish” he spoke softly, traces of a smile creeping onto his face as he watched Y/N hold her icing-stained hair back as she leaned forward to blow the candle out, closing her eyes tightly as if she was wishing really hard.

“What did you wish for?” He asked, something stirring inside him.

“It won’t come true if I tell you silly” Y/N said as she plucked the candle from the cake so she could serve it. Cutting them both a slice they lifted it to their lips, each taking a bite.

It was the most disgusting thing Azriel had ever tasted and it was most definitely his lack of baking skills to blame. Y/N’s eyes bulged and she grabbed a napkin before spitting the cake in her mouth out into it. Azriel, not quite as ladylike, spat it onto the plate in his hands.

“I’m sorry I ruined your birthday cake” Azriel anxiously said as he watched Y/N help herself to water and start chugging it in an attempt to get rid of the taste. She shook her head, swallowing the last gulp of her water before saying, “it was perfect Az. Thank you for spending the day with me.”

Realising that they had finished doing what she had come for and that she would now take her leave, an odd sense of fear sparked in Azriel. Fear that he didn’t want the day to end, that he could spend forever surrounded by the vanilla-scented presence of this beautiful woman before him. So Azriel took a leap.

“Would you like to go out? For your birthday of course”

Y/N’s eyes snapped to his and for a moment Azriel was worried she was going to say no. But then the biggest grin he had ever seen on her face broke out and Y/N squealed, “Yes!”

“Great! Great!” panic now filled Azriel as he had no idea what they were actually going to do, “do you…do you mind if I have a few hours to come up with something?”

Y/N agreed, saying how it would be best to wash the icing from her hair and change first, and so she packed her bag and walked to the door to leave. Azriel, opened it for her the promise of seeing her later on his lips when Y/N leaned up and placed a gentle kiss onto his cheek causing his jaw to drop in shock.

A shy giggle left her mouth at his reaction, her sweet voice filling his red ears as she said, “I’ll see you soon Az” His eyes chased after her as she left, travelling down to linger on her beautiful dress once more, the silver markings, his markings, glistening in the light as she walked.

Azriel stayed rooted to the spot, staring into space at the corner of the corridor where she had just left. Unsure of how long he had been there, his senses returned when his neighbour walked round the corner, jumping in shock at seeing the large Illyrian warrior stood there in a frilly yellow apron. Azriel grunted and slammed the door shut.

Part 5

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Notes: would you guys like to vote where Azriel takes her in the next part or would you like to leave it up to me?

Enjoy the fluff while it lasts there’s still lots of angst to come :)

Taglist:

@thelov3lybookworm @minnieoo @going-through-shit @iluvyewman-blog @laughterafter @amysangel @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @justvibbinghere

@darling006 @anuttellaa @serendipityx150 @xxxalicerogersxx @that-one-little-soybean @scatteredstardustt @naturakaashi @honeybeeboobaa @willowpains

(I think that’s everyone but if I’ve accidentally missed you let me know)

[iheartmapi]

Norwegian Holiday

Ingrid Engen x Reader

Summary: For the first time, you and your girlfriend go on holiday to her country.

Fluff.

TW: none expect probably kinda shitty depiction of Norwegian culture (I’ve never been there don’t @ me)

Word count: 968

“The charm’s hidden in the small towns, kjæreste”

The brunette beside you remarked as your train slowly approached it’s destination.

“Well, I’m gonna have to trust you on this one, Ing…”

As the vehicle came to a stop the two of you raised from your seats and gathered your bags, there wasn’t a lot of commotion, after all why should there be when you picked out a tiny town to visit…but well you were enthusiastic about this holiday anyways. Ingrid lead you, though she haven’t been here before she could actually read the signs you passed by.

You fished out your phone from your bag, “Uh babe we rented the hotel on your phone right?” She turned to look at you, as the two of you managed to navigate into one of the towns streets, “I think so, let me check, can you get my phone for me?” You listened and then started the tumultuous act of searching for Ingrid’s phone in your guy’s travel bag, finally you handed the mobile to her.

As Ingrid searched for the reservation, or rather the hotels name so that google maps could help you out, you stood by her, observing the buildings that littered the street, and the might mountains that surrounded the town…this place was almost like a very cozy fairytale “Aha!” Ingrid beamed, were supposed to gooooo…” she turned and turned before pointing in the correct way “We’re supposed to go there” the brunette took hold of your arm and lead the way “So hasty..” you chuckled, “We’ve got no time to lose!” Ingrid beamed.

Thankfully, you didn’t get lost and got to register at the hotel, your rooms were nice, the mattress was the perfect balance between hard and soft, and the decor? Well there wasn’t really much to say about it, it was regular, kind of genderless and beige really.

Of course the moment everything was checked off the two of you got dressed and left the hotel to go exploring, this time leaving google maps behind to just see the town for yourself.

The first thing you and Ingrid thought was necessary to see, was the town’s square.

From the very middle; there was a nicely carved stone fountain, really just plain space, some benches and then the building that surrounded it…shops, cafes, restaurants the likes. “Stand there, I wanna take your picture, pretty girl” Ingrid smiled, you cheerfully pranced around to pose in front of the fountain for Ingrid’s phone’s lenses, after a couple clicks the two of you continued on strolling around.

“Feeling the Norwegian spirit already?” Ing playfully nudged you, you smirked “Definetily, oh I need to get me some kitschy Viking souvenir!” At that comment she scoffed “So stereotypical of you” you just winked at your girlfriend and said “Whatever you say, Viking lady” to which she just nudged you again and you laughed.

Trying Norwegian food was a must have on your list, so not too soon after you made your way to a restaurant, your eyes skimmed across the menu, trying to pronounce the foreign to you words as Ingrid had a laughing fit at your butchered words.

Then with some help from Ingrid you chose a dish called “Kjøttkaker med brunsaus”, a seemingly simple recipe. The waiter soon brought your orders to the table and left you to live this delicious moment.

You stick your fork into the meat on the plate and took a dramatic breath “Here goes nothing…” you munched on the meat cakes, wanting to savour the taste..after a moment of thoughtfulness you decided on “This is quite good actually”

Ingrid’s mouth curved upwards “I’m happy you like it” before continuing on eating her own meal, “You’ll have to make this for me when we get back home, Ingy!” You remarked joyfully, “Alright alright” she laughed at your liveliness “Calm your horses and finish eating first”

Towns square, restaurant and now a souvenir shop because you begged Ingrid to see it when you spotted it…you scanned the Viking-y souvenirs, from hats to cups, there were many things to choose from…Ingrid herself paced around the building, observing the assortment of the shop before returning to you, “So?” She asked “You getting anything?” You turned to Ingrid with a comical seriousness “I’m torn between the Viking hat and the Viking cup” Ingrid raised an eyebrow “I’m assuming you’re expectantly waiting for me to say you can get both?” You nodded “There’s no limit for what you want babe, if you want it buy it” you reached for the “viking” hat and put it on your head “I was afraid the amount of kitsch I wanted would annoy you” Ingrid just rolled her eyes and patted your now covered head “It’s you, I couldn’t get mad even if I wanted to.”

So you bought the things you wanted, put them in your bag for walking around and went on with your exploration of the small town. The rest was really just you two appreciating the views and architecture, or entering places you thought looked interesting..

The day flowed smoothly and soon you found yourself sitting on a bench with a view of the lake by the town, waffles in your and Ingrid’s hands.

“This is like…so pretty it’s crazy” you said as you munched on your waffle

“Chew before you speak babe…” Ingrid sighed at your childishness (but with a smile on her face)

“fine fine!” You finished the piece and swallowed “Now as I said, the views are crazy here”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying Norway” your girlfriend smiled even wider, her eyes crinkling “You know I care about your happiness the most”

“Oh don’t you make me blush…” you added “You’re already outshining this landscape” you winked before getting back to devouring your waffle

“You’re such a dummy…”