#the way his court makes her hum and how happy she was to be around him

[vorpalmuchness]

ngl I love Tarquin and Feyre more than I thought I would

[ladysharmaa]

Heir

Anthony Bridgerton x reader

summary: telling Anthony she's with child after facing difficulties getting pregnant

It's been three years since the wedding between Anthony Bridgerton and Y/n. The love between the two was one of the strongest anyone could have ever seen, it was obvious that they were made for each other.

They met in a very unusual way. While Anthony was courting Edwina Sharma, Y/n was seen very close to Benedict, the two of them discreetly courting each other. However, they both quickly realized that the connection between them was better as a friendship than a romantic relationship, where things seemed quite forced and uncomfortable. At the same time, Viscount Bridgerton had also broken up with Edwina after she had doubts on their wedding day.

Y/n remembered that day perfectly. She was sitting next to Benedict and the Bridgerton family on the chairs waiting for Edwina to appear and the wedding to begin. She waved a fan, trying to alleviate the horrible heat in that room. The delay seemed to make everyone nervous, especially Anthony who had drops of sweat falling from his forehead and was speaking hurriedly to his mother.

Finally, the doors opened, but, to everyone's surprise, it wasn't Edwina walking down the aisle, it was Kate Sharma, her sister. She didn't look happy, walking with an air of confidence and a serious expression, her eyes never leaving Anthony. The two exchanged quick words, until Anthony dropped his head and closed his eyes in frustration, but he still nodded and Kate left.

After a few tense seconds, Anthony finally had the courage to look at the people watching the scene and said that the wedding had been cancelled, before leaving the room too, leaving the murmur that formed.

"What a scandal." a lady gossiped with another, the two starting a conversation about what could have happened, some theories being completely ridiculous and that could ruin the family's reputation.

Y/n couldn't help herself and turned to them with a polite but sarcastic smile. "My apologies for interrupting, but the only scandal here is the fact that your son, who decided to be a priest, got so many prostitutes pregnant that only they could fill an entire line of these."

The woman gasped in horror while Benedict, who was listening to the conversation, had difficulty containing his laughter. "You foolish girl, how dare—"

"Excuse me, but I have better things to do than sit here and imagine what could have happened." Y/n got up from her chair, looking at the women one last time before going to try and find Anthony.

Despite being acquaintances, since Y/n was so close to Benedict, the two had never spoken much. However, the woman was still worried about Viscount. When she found him, sitting on the porch floor with his head in his hands, Y/n kept him company, also sitting in silence. From then on, a relationship was formed between the two that quickly became inseparable.

"My love, daydreaming again?" Anthony hummed, breaking Y/n out of his thoughts. The man wrapped his shoulders around her waist and pulled her closer, gently kissing her head. "What are you thinking about?"

"How lucky I am."

"Well, I'm the lucky one. I have a beautiful wife who I love very much. I couldn't live without you." he confessed, causing a blush to appear on her cheeks as it always did when he pronounced his love for her. "I have to go finish some paperwork, but then I'll come see you so we can go visit Daphne's son."

Y/n nodded, giving him a quick kiss and sighing as she watched him go to his office. Daphne had just had her second child, a beautiful baby boy. The couple was going to visit the family so that Y/n could help with whatever her sister-in-law needed while Anthony and Simon were going to entertain the baby's brother, a toodler who demanded a lot of attention.

Even though Y/n loved their children with all her heart, it only reminded her of what she couldn't give Anthony. The couple had been trying to get pregnant since they got married, but without success. Anthony's wife had already cried on his shoulder many times because she couldn't carry the child, her heart breaking every time she started her period.

Even though the Bridgerton man assured her several times that all he needed to be happy was her, Y/n still wanted to give him a heir. She wanted the house to be full of their children's laughter and for them to be able to create a mini version of them, a product of their love.

However, he tried not to occupy his days thinking solely about that. It was enough of all the doctors she had seen who told her that it was her fault, that her womb was not capable of developing a baby. Of course, Anthony, as soon as he heard those accusations and the look of complete heartbreak from his wife, demanded that they leave his house.

Y/n she couldn't take the blame anymore, going into a state of shock and for three days she refused to get out of bed. However, her husband would not accept that. He just wanted her to be happy, even if they never had children.

"We don't need children to be happy, I only need you. We have so many nieces and nephews who can take on my role, and we can take care of them from time to time, I'm sure my siblings wouldn't mind." Y/n remembered Anthony telling her this firmly, his hands grabbing her cheeks as they both had tears in their eyes.

And since then, they've never brought it up again.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"Lady Bridgerton, are you feeling alright?" one of the maids asked worriedly when she saw Y/n enter the dining room for breakfast, immediately turning paler when she smelled the eggs. "Should I fetch for Viscount Bridgerton?"

She had time to shake her head before running to the nearest bathroom, dropping herself onto the cold floor and emptying the contents of her stomach. She could feel tears forming in her eyes, gagging at the sour taste that remained in her mouth. With unsteady legs, she got up and went to wash her mouth, the maids who entered the bathroom right after her helped her to hold herself upright.

However, she quickly realized that she wasn't finished yet when a new wave of nausea consumed her and she knelt again in front of the toilet. She felt strong hands, which she recognized as Anthony's, caress her face before grabbing her hair.

"Oh, Anthony…" she moaned in discomfort. "I don't want you to see me like this."

"Hey, none of that. Come here, love." he comforted, helping turn her around and supporting her against the wall when she was finished. He took a towel and started wiping her mouth.

When Y/n had the strength to open her eyes, she saw her husband's face analyzing her closely, looking for anything that could be wrong. The concern that swam in his eyes made her raise a hand and rest it on his cheek, and he turned slightly to be able to give her a lingering kiss on her palm.

"How are you feeling? I'm going to call the doctor. Are you okay with staying with one of the maids until I get back?"

Y/n held his arm, preventing him from getting up. "No, please don't go. I'm alright now. If this continues, I promise you can call the doctor, this is probably an one time thing. Let's not worry about it."

Anthony sighed, locked in a staring contest with the most important woman in his life. Accepting defeat, but with a serious look that screamed that if that happened again she would see a doctor, the Viscount picked up Y/n, carrying her to their bed.

Laying her down gently and helping Y/n take off her dress, the man pulled the covers up, making sure she was comfortable. Afterwards, he took off his shirt and pants, lying down next to her.

"What are you doing? We can't be in bed already, especially you. It's only morning, we still have many obligations to fulfill."

"No. My wife is not feeling well, and I'm going to take care of her. The paperwork can wait, as well as all my meetings. I just want you to be healthy." Anthony brought her closer to him, Y/n resting her head on his chest so she could hear his heartbeat. "Now, sleep. You need it."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It happened again. More specifically, two more times Y/n threw up her meals. The first time, she was alone and not wanting to worry anyone, she preferred to remain silent. After all, she could still be recovering from some kind of illness. The second time, it was in the presence of her most trusted maid, who she considered a friend, Joanne. And so she begged her not to tell the Bridgerton man about it, claiming she would see someone.

Alone, because in addition to feeling sick, she also realized that her period, which was always regular, should have already arrived. Her first thought was that she was pregnant. But upon thinking better, she questioned this possibility. After so many years of trying and failing, why would she be pregnant now? There must be another explanation.

However, she did not share these possibilities with Anthony because the last thing she wanted was to give him hope only to end up disappointed with her inability to give him a heir. Fortunately, Joanne accompanied her, helping Y/n explain to the doctor why the Viscount wasn't there with her.

And when she left that office, she could feel her legs losing strength. She placed a hand on her chest, starting to find it difficult to breathe in completely, still shocked by what the doctor had said to her.

Pregnant.

She was carrying Anthony's child in her womb, something they thought to be impossible. She was going to be a mother. Even though Anthony always assured her that he was completely happy with just her, Y/n knew that he would love being a father. At the beginning of their marriage, he had revealed to her that he dreamed of their family, their chhildren running through the garden while he chased after them and Y/n watched while sitting under the shade, her hand on her swollen belly.

And, by a miracle, this dream could become reality.

"Lady Bridgerton, are you ready to return to the mansion?" Joanne questioned after Y/n sat down in the carriage, her hands shaking together in her lap. Her gaze was understanding, in case she needed a few more moments alone to process this, but her lips held a small smile.

"I'm going to be a mother." she whispered.

"A wonderful, beautiful mother, I'm sure. Congratulations, Lady Bridgerton." she smiled, feeling enormous happiness for Y/n. She knew how much the couple had suffered. "Shall we return?"

Y/n nodded, no longer trusting her voice to speak. The woman took advantage of the short trip to process everything that was happening and before she knew it she was already in front of Anthony's office door.

With barely controlled excitement, she knocked on the door, waiting for permission to enter. When she heard Anthony's voice, she timidly opened the door, seeing that her husband was gathered with his brothers.

"Oh, my apologies. I didn't know your brothers were here. I can come back later."

"Nonsense, love. They can just leave." Anthony said, leaning back in his chair and opening his arms, an invitation for Y/n to come to him. The man, after already having Y/n in his arms, looked at Benedict and Collin, who were looking at him with a smirk. "Did you not hear? I told you to leave."

"Anthony, be nice!"

"It's not a problem, Y/n, we know when we are not wanted. Come on, Benedict, let's leave the lovebirds alone." Collin teased, getting up with his brother and leaving the room, but first, he took Y/n's hand and brought it to his lips. Benedict, for instance, kissed her cheek in a brotherly way. Despite their farewell with Y/n, Anthony was completely ignored by his brothers.

"Did you need something?" the man asked, putting all of his attention on Y/n, who began to fidget with her fingers nervously.

"Actually, I have to tell you something. I went to the doctor today…"

"What? Y/n, why didn't you tell me? Did you feel bad again? Nauseous? What did the doctor say? Are you okay?"

"Calm down, my love. I'm better than fine. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about being sick again, but I didn't want to worry you." she admitted, feeling guilty that Anthony was feeling precisely what she didn't want. "Well, I received some very interesting news."

"Please, just tell me what's wrong. I can't bear not knowing if something is wrong with you." he muttered with a pained look, as if he felt physical pain when thinking about the possibility of Y/n being hurt or unwell.

"Anthony…" she said his name with so much love that he shuddered. "I'm pregnant."

A silence formed in the room. Anthony took so long to react, just looking at her intensely as if he didn't know what was true or not, that Y/n began to feel worry invade her system. Was he not happy? Did he not want a child with her anymore?

"W-What?" Anthony finally managed to whisper, his heart having stopped as soon as he heard those words. "You're pregnant? With my child?"

"Well, obviously." Y/n rolled her eyes. "Are you happy?"

"Happy? My love, I'm more than happy. I love you so much. And I love our child too." the man kissed her fiercely, needing to convey all his love and adoration for her in that kiss.

He was addicted to his wife's lips, and now that he knew she was carrying his child, something animalistic was released inside him. Without giving any warning, he grabbed Y/n and twirled her around, without ever taking his lips off hers. Even so, Y/n giggled against them, circling her hands around his neck and holding on tight.

When her feet touched the floor, the Viscount knelt in front of her, his hands resting hesitantly on her stomach. He looked at Y/n in permission, who just nodded in encouragement and placed her hand on his brown hair, stroking his scalp.

Very gently, Anthony kissed his wife's still flat stomach. "Hello, you. I'm your father and I love you and your mother very much. You two are my entire life."

And the two stayed like that for the rest of the day, moving to the bedroom where Anthony continued to talk to Y/n's belly while exchanging passionate kisses with her. A beautiful new stage had begun in their lives, and they couldn't wait to meet their heir.

[totaly-obsessed]

Out of the Pages

➳ Paige Bueckers x reader

➳ Navigation Post - here!

➳ introvert x extrovert - worlds meet

➳ Pure fluff, not proof read, idk guys, it's been a while. ➳ reader really is just me...

➳ Word count: 3.1k

The soft afternoon sun filters through the curtains of the small apartment you share with your girlfriend in downtown Storrs, casting a warm, golden light over the neat rows of books on your beloved bookshelf. Through the open window, you can hear the people talking on the street as they embrace the last warm days before it eventually gets colder. 

October is halfway over, and it won’t be long until the basketball season starts back up again, leaving Paige and her teammates in a constant state of excitement as they are making the last preparations. But in this apartment, curled up in your favorite armchair, you are at peace, absorbed in the pages of your book as you try to solve the case alongside the main character—a stark contrast to the lively chaos your girlfriend thrives in. It’s that very difference that makes your relationship work so well, despite what other people say.

In one of the restaurants close by a glass is dropped, pulling your focus from the book. A quick glance at the clock tells you that it shouldn’t be too much longer until Paige comes home. Practice ended 20 minutes ago, but most days she stayed a bit later, getting some more shots in, trying to perfect them to the best of her abilities, before she finally walked the 5-minute way back to your joint home.

With a sigh you close your book, realizing that you should probably get a start on dinner. You had always been the kind of person who found joy in the quieter moments in life. Reading a good mystery book and savoring the stillness that came with an afternoon without classes. Paige thrived in the energy of the crowd and the adrenaline of the game, while you cherished the simple things. A nice, hot, cup of tea. The feeling of a brand new book in your hands. Rain hitting your window in the fall. Knowing that she will walk through your front door in a couple of minutes, happy to fall into your comforting arms and tell you everything that happened. 

But even with you being a more private person, Paige loved you loudly. Nearly every second day she posts a pic of you on her Story. Sometimes she posts little videos of how you’re dancing around in the kitchen with her or how her teammates are interacting with you. In interviews, it’s hard to get her to stop talking about you, because no matter what the topic is, she is guaranteed to talk about you. And her fans love every second of it, and they love every bit of you. While she chases perfection on the court, you find perfection in the little things—in the way her eyes light up when she talks about her day, in the quiet moments when you simply exist together, side by side. And everyone loves watching you two be in love.

“Hi, Lovie!” Not once in your life has Paige walked through your front door quietly. So just like most days, the door flings open, as your girlfriend grins at you. “Oh, you look good, Baby!” And just like most days, she pulls the ‘o’s’ in good as long as she can. “Love, I’m wearing a sweater and shorts.” You deadpan at her while you drain the pasta and pour it into a pan. “I know Baby.  But it’s my sweater and those shorts… Yeah, I don’t think I need to say it.” Warm arms wrap themselves around you as your girlfriend clings to you, looking over your shoulder and watching you finish the sauce. “There is no protein in there, Baby.” With a scoff you shrug her off, pushing her towards the bathroom. “Wash your hands, dinner is ready.”

A soft kiss was pressed against your cheek as Paige joined you at the table. “Thank you for cooking Ma.” With a soft hum you lean into her touch, a small smile playing at your lips as you reply, "Anything for you, Love." The blonde lets out a satisfied moan as she takes the first bite, “This is incredible.” As quickly as you can you pull a face, “There is no protein in there, baby”, mocking what she said earlier to you, in your best ‘Paige voice’. One of her eyebrows shoots up, daring you to test her again.

As the playful banter continues between the two of you, Paige's eyes gleam with a mischievous spark. "You know," she says, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms, "You can't stay cooped up in this apartment forever. How about coming out with me this weekend?"

You give her a knowing smile, already sensing where this conversation is headed. "Oh, Paige, you know I’d rather spend my time at home." She pouts dramatically, “But baby, it’s not just some loud party. It’s gonna be fun! Just a little get-together with the team and some friends. Nothing too crazy, I promise. Azzi told me about it.”

You roll your eyes affectionately, “I’ve heard that before. And I also remember how we ended up staying until 2 a.m. last time because you couldn't stop dancing.” Paige laughs, a sound like music filling the room, one of your favorite sounds there is. "Okay, fair point, but this time, I swear, it’s different. It's going to be relaxed—chill vibes, a few drinks, good music. Just a chance to hang out together."

You look at her skeptically, already shaking your head. “I don’t know, Paige… I’m really not the party type.” Your girlfriend leans in closer, her grin widening. "I know that, babe. And that’s exactly why I think you should come, just this once. It could be good for you to step out of your comfort zone. Who knows? You might even enjoy it." You laugh softly, but the idea still feels foreign to you. “I think my comfort zone is a pretty nice place, actually.” 

“Come on,” Paige nudges you gently. “Just think about it, okay?”

You nod, more to humor her than out of any real intention of agreeing. "I’ll think about it," you say, and Paige gives you a triumphant little cheer, knowing that everything but a ‘no’ is a victory.

Over the next few days, Paige doesn't let it go. She brings it up casually while you’re both cooking dinner, or when you're curled up on the couch together. “You know, they’ll have those little sliders you love at the party,” she mentions offhandedly one evening. Another day, she adds, “It could be like a mini-date night… just us two, but, like, with other people.”

You can’t help but smile at her persistence, though you keep gently declining each time. “I’m really not sure, Paige,” you respond, even as she keeps layering on reasons and reassurances, each argument filled with her enthusiasm.

Finally, one evening, as you’re sitting together watching a show, Paige takes a more serious tone. “Listen, love,” she says, turning towards you and taking your hand. “I know you’re not into these kinds of things, and I respect that. I love that you’re different. But I think it could be fun for us to do something a little out of the ordinary… together. Just this once.”

You tilt your head, considering her words, but still unsure. “And if I don’t have a good time?”

Paige smiles, her eyes soft. “Then we leave. No questions asked. I’ll stay by your side the entire time, I promise. I just… I just want to see you in my world, even if it’s just for one night. We can leave whenever you want. I promise you won’t be alone in it. I’ll be by your side the whole time, and Nika is gonna be there, and Azzi and KK, the whole team really. You love them! Deal?”

Her sincerity touches you, and you feel a small tug at your heart. You know how much this means to her, how much she wants to share every aspect of her life with you, just as she proudly shares you with the world.

With a sigh, you finally relent. “Alright, fine. I’ll go. But I’m holding you to that promise. One step out of line, and we’re out.” Paige’s face lights up with a brilliant smile, and she throws her arms around you in a tight hug. “Deal, baby. And trust me, it’ll be fun. You’ll see.” You smile back, feeling the warmth of her excitement radiating off her.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” she litters small kisses all over your face, as the blonde just can’t help herself, hiding her face in the crook of your neck. “If you hadn’t said yes today, I wasn’t gonna go either.” The jerk of your head was exactly what she had expected after telling you her little secret. At your whines, she could only laugh, “Nuh-uh. you said yes. Now We’re goin'!”

The night of the party arrives faster than you expected, and you find yourself standing in front of the mirror, adjusting your clothes nervously. Paige, ever the enthusiast, had picked out a comfortable yet stylish outfit for you, something that she assured would help you “blend in but still look cute." You catch her reflection in the mirror as she comes up behind you, wrapping her arms around your chest, her smile warm and encouraging. “You look perfect,” she says, and you know she means it.

Your nerves build with every meter on the way to the party. The streets are busier than usual for a usual Saturday night, and you can already hear the faint thrum of music coming from a few blocks away. Paige’s right hand found its usual place, your thigh, as she rubbed comforting circles. “Remember,” she murmurs softly, loud enough that you can hear her over the open windows that let in the cooling evening air, “we can leave whenever you want. This is just for fun, okay?”

You nod, trying to take a deep breath and push down the flutter of anxiety in your chest. The music grows louder as you approach the house, the bass thumping through the walls as the blonde parks the car. Laughter and chatter spill out into the street, a warm glow radiating from the windows. Paige squeezes your hand one last time before opening her car door, jogging around, and helping you out of your seat.

Inside, the atmosphere is exactly as you imagined—people are scattered around, chatting in groups, dancing, or playing games. You immediately feel a wave of discomfort wash over you. It’s not just the noise, but the sheer number of people crammed into the small space. Paige senses your hesitation and keeps you close, her arm slipping around your waist protectively.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she whispers, her lips close to your ear. “Just breathe. We’ll find a quieter corner.” She guides you gently through the crowd, smiling and waving at friends as you pass by. You catch snippets of conversations and see faces turning your way, but Paige’s presence keeps you grounded. She introduces you to a few people, all of them friendly enough, but the whirlwind of names and faces makes your head spin.

How does this girl know everyone?

Finally, you reach a quieter spot near the kitchen, where the noise is a bit more subdued. Paige grabs two drinks, handing one to you. “Here, something light,” she says with a wink. “No pressure to drink if you don’t want to, but it might help you relax.”

You take a tentative sip, and Paige’s smile widens. “See? Not so bad, right?” You give her a small smile in return, still feeling a bit overwhelmed but comforted by her presence. For a few minutes, things seem to settle. Paige chats animatedly with a few friends who come by to say hello, and you listen quietly, feeling a little more at ease just being by her side.

But then, KK and Ice, two of Paige’s closest friends and teammates, approach with wide grins. “Paige!” KK exclaims, throwing an arm around her shoulder. “We’re about to start a game of beer pong. You in?” 

Paige glances at you, “Nah, I’m good right where I am,” she says firmly, smiling at her friends. “I’m here to spend time with my girl tonight.”

KK raises an eyebrow, her grin widening. “Your girl can play too, you know,” she teases, glancing over at you with a playful challenge in her eyes. “Come on, it’s just a game. We promise not to make it too competitive… unless you want us to.” Ice laughs and nods, chiming in, “Yeah, it’ll be fun! You’ve got Paige on your team, so you’re already halfway to winning!”

Paige looks at you, her eyes searching yours for a moment. She can see the hesitation written all over your face, the way your fingers lightly grip her arm, not wanting to let go. You give her a small, almost imperceptible shake of your head, and she instantly understands.

She turns back to KK and Ice, flashing a charming smile. “You know what? I think I’m gonna sit this one out tonight,” she says smoothly. “We’re just here to chill and have a quiet night. Maybe next time?”

KK chuckles, catching the subtle glance between you and Paige. “Alright, alright, we get it. No pressure,” she teases with a grin. “You two are inseparable, huh?” Paige just shrugs, her grin widening as she pulls you closer to her side. “Can you blame me?” she quips back, her tone light but sincere.

KK and Ice exchange a knowing look, teasing her with playful jabs. “Oh, come on, Paige, you’re whipped,” KK laughs, but there’s no malice in it—just teasing their friend. 

“Damn right, I am,” Paige grins, pulling you closer. “And proud of it.”

They laugh and shake their heads. "Alright, alright," Ice says, “we’ll catch you later then.” They wander off, leaving you and Paige in your little corner.

As they wander off to join the others, Paige turns to you, her smile softening. “I’ve got you, always,” she murmurs, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You feel the tension in your shoulders ease a bit, and you nod. “Thank you,” you whisper, and Paige leans in to press a gentle kiss to your temple. “No big deal Ma.,” she replies softly.

“Tell me about your book, baby. What happened in the last chapter? Did Pip figure it out?”

You can’t help but smile at her genuine interest. Paige has heard you ramble on about countless books, and every time she listens as if it’s the most important thing in the world. "Well," you start, your voice a little shaky but gaining confidence as you go on, "Pip thinks she has it all figured out, but there’s this new twist... the suspect has an alibi that throws her entire theory out the window."

Paige’s eyes widen dramatically. “No way!” she exclaims, leaning in closer as if this story was the most gripping thing she'd ever heard. “I was sure she had it this time. What’s she going to do now?”

You laugh softly at her enthusiasm, feeling more at ease. "She’s back to square one, basically. But she’s determined to find a new lead, and I think she’s getting closer to the truth."

Paige nods, fully absorbed in your words, her blue eyes fixed on you with a look of admiration that makes your heart flutter. For a moment, the noise and energy of the party fade away, and it’s just the two of you, sharing this quiet little world together. It’s these moments that remind you why you took the chance to come here tonight—for her, for this.

Just then, from across the room, Azzi catches sight of Paige and nudges Nika, who follows her gaze. They both burst into giggles, catching the attention of KK and Ice, who turns to see what’s so amusing. 

“Look at her,” Azzi whispers to the group, a grin spreading across her face. “She’s got the puppy dog eyes again.”

KK snickers, “She’s totally whipped. She looks like she’s watching a sunrise or something.”

Nika laughs quietly, nodding. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look at anyone like that,” she adds, her voice filled with a touch of wonder. “It’s actually really cute.”

Ice chuckles, shaking her head. “That’s love, right there,” she says with a smile. “The girl’s completely gone for her.”

Meanwhile, Paige remains blissfully unaware of her friends’ teasing, still fully focused on you, hanging on to every word as you continue to tell her about the next chapter. Her hand finds yours, squeezing it gently, her thumb tracing light circles over your skin.

After a few moments, you catch sight of her friends watching from across the room, and you feel a blush creep up your cheeks. “Paige,” you whisper, nudging her slightly. “Your friends are staring.”

Paige glances over and catches their teasing expressions. She rolls her eyes with a grin, then turns back to you, unabashed. “Let them stare,” she says softly, her voice filled with warmth. “I’ve got everything I want right here.”

You feel your heart swell with affection as Paige leans in and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. The party continues around you, but it feels like the noise has dimmed just a little, leaving a bubble of peace around the two of you.

Eventually, the evening winds down, and as the crowd begins to thin, you realize that Paige is right. It wasn’t so bad—actually, it was more than that. You had fun in your own way, simply by being there with her, sharing in her world.

As you make your way back to the car, hand in hand, Paige looks at you with a triumphant smile. “See?” she says, her eyes sparkling with mischief and joy. “Told you it would be fun.” You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling, too. “Okay, okay,” you admit. “Maybe it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

As you reach the car, she stops and turns to face you, her expression turning sincere. “Thank you,” she whispers. “For tonight, and for always being my safe place.” You lean in and kiss her softly, your heart full. “I love you, Paige,” you murmur against her lips. “Anywhere with you is where I want to be.”

And with that, you both get into the car and drive back home together, knowing that whether in a crowded party or a quiet apartment, you have everything you need as long as you have each other.

[jyoongim]

Alastor and married reader but instead of the whole other thing, he kills her husband and is the shoulder for her to cry on (cliche, I know) not wanting her to hate him. And you know- smut somewhere along the way

The happiest day of your life was your wedding day.

The thought of living your days in matrimonial bliss with the man of your dreams had always been your future plans.

Until it wasn’t….

Your dreams of waking up beside your soulmate, having a big family, and living out your days in love were all crushed the day you were told to come to the coroner.

To identify your husband.

You stared at the casket as the pastor read the sermon and it was lowered into the dirt. 

You felt nothing.

Numb.

The heavens must of felt your sadness as there was an endless pour.

Many family members and friends gave their condolences but you didn’t even acknowledge them.

How?

Why?

what had your husband done so terribly that someone would…

The cold of the rain disappeared as a hand grasped your shoulder, pulling your soaked body into theirs “You’ll catch a chill standing like that dear”

Alastor.

He held an umbrella over the two of you as you watch the diggers throw dirt onto the coffin.

You felt hot tears swell in your eyes and your body shook as sobs ran through you. You turned to Alastor, eyes glassy and lip wobbling and you sniffed

“I-I just…why? This-this…it wasnt suppose to be like this” you sobbed as Alastor gathered you in his arms and ran a soothing hand on your back.

He patted your back, letting you cry in his shoulder as he hummed “there there dear, itll be all right. Cry it out doll”

You curled into him as he held you, a hand rubbing your shoulder and back in comfort, whispering gentle words to try and ease your pain.

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You and Alastor grew up together. 

He was practically your best friend.

Hes seen you at your happiest and now at your saddest.

He was always your confidant and rock….until you met your husband.

You stopped coming down to the radio station.

You wanted to include him in on outings.

You wanted the two important men in your life to get along…

To share

Alastor would be damned if he gave you up.

But for you, he bared it.

He watched you marry the man you loved.

And he might could have lived happy knowing you were happy, but there was something inside him that just wouldnt go away about you withdrawing your affections from him and redirect them to another man.

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

You sighed as you looked around the house. Your husband had just bought it and it was suppose to be a surprise after your wedding.

But now it just served as a reminder of what will never be.

“You should stay cher, the house is in your name” Alastor chirped, roaming around.

“I just dont feel right being here when…its just no longer what I thought it would be” you say glaring at a wedding portrait. Alastor smirked, rounding from the kitchen, wrapping his arms around you “Then redecorate! Add a bit of color. Make use of this lovely home”

You thought about it, you would hate to resell it. You didnt want to go back home to live with your parents.

You sighed again. 

“Then stay here with me…at least until” Alastor smiled, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.

“You think i was gonna leave? Oh darling im hurt you even thought of me like that”

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

Alastor sat on top the man as he smiled cruelly down at him.

“She was never meant to be your wife.” he squeezed the man’s neck seething.

“Years. I spent years courting her. She might be a bit slow, but all I needed was a nudge. And then here you come. Bright and opinionated, always the knight in shining armor” The man gasped as Alastor’s grip tightened.

“Shes like a Doe, Shes cautious at first, feed her and be kind and shell come to you willingly. But I am the Hunter. I have calculated where and how my Doe reacts. I didnt need you messing up my plans.” the man stuttered in a choke

“Rest assure old chum, she makes a good wife” Alastor growled.

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

You felt bad that Alastor spent most of his time over. You had tried to encourage and reassure him that you felt better and that he should go home, but the man was stubborn and knew you well enough to decline.

”Al people will start to talk if you’re constantly here. I’m a widow now,  you’ll be  the talk of town if you linger.”

Alastor shrugged “when have i ever cared about what others think and besides…when have you known me to just let you wallow in sorrow.”

Never. Alastor always found a way to make you smile even when you were sad.

You admit that you have enjoyed having Alastor around these last few weeks.

Hes helped you decorate the house, find joy again in life, and even staying with you.

You didn’t want to admit it,  but what affections you already had for the man, had seemed to grow. You put it off as just a way that you were trying to cope from the loss of your husband.

But that wasn’t the case….

Because before your husband….it was Alastor.

But you had just chalked it up to silly childhood emotions.

——————————————————————————————-

The rain poured as the wind and thunder whipped around outside.

You and Alastor were cuddled on the couch looking through old photos.

You giggled as you flipped through the pages, reminiscing about your youth.

”lord what were we thinking….our mamas had a fit” you laughed shaking your head, Alastor chuckled “I think your mud pies improved”

You snort “Its the only thing I can actually cook”

The fire crackled as the storm raged outside and you leaned your head against his shoulder.

”you know…I can’t thank you enough.” You whispered, causing the man to flick his eyes to you curious

”For what my dear?”

You fiddle with the crochet blanket, burying your face in the crook of his neck, groaning in embarrassment “for always being there for me. I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t there at the funeral…You’re really my saving grace Al”

Alastor’s lips curled into a smile, nuzzling into your hair, a deep rumble rakes his chest as lanky arms bound around you.

”Oh ma cherie  don’t say such things. We’ve known each other for years if anything you’re my saving grace.”

You pulled back a bit to give him a funny look, to make a snarky remark but the way Alastor was looking at you made your throat closeup.

Such affection and adoration in those deep eyes.

Your heart was pounding in your chest. 

You ducked your head “Yourejust saying that” you mumbled.

Soft lips grazed your forehead. “I would never lie to you dear”

Maybe it was because it was a storm outside and you were cozy up by the fire

Maybe it was Alastor spending most of his time here.

Maybe it was his consideration for you, the flowers he got you , his cooking (that was AMAZING), the times he sang to you or danced to whatever the radio played.

Whatever it was, you didn’t realized that he had leaned towards you until you felt his lips brush yours. 

Your brain was telling you that you should stop this.

This was your friend.

Your husband just died.

Your shouldn’t.

You closed your eyes and pressed your lips to his, angling your head to slot your lips together.

The kiss was slow, steady, soft…almost like he was testing the waters, unsure of how you would react.

You nipped at his lips and a surprised gasp left you as he pulled you into his lap, deepening the kiss.

That small noise must have possessed something in the man as the once gentle kiss turn to something carnal.

Your arms were loops around his neck and your finger s were buried in his hair as he attempted to devour you.

His lips left your lips to trail to your neck, littering it in bites and suckling.

A soft moan escaped your throat “A-Al”

He pulled back, eyes blown and low.

”Tell Me you don’t want this and ill stop”

He peppered soft kisses along the column of your neck

”Tell me you don’t want me as much as I want you and ill pretend this didn’t happened”

is that what you wanted?

Your heart was pounding.

You cupped his face and gave him a soft smile, before pressing a soft kiss to his nose

”We shouldn’t…”

His hands slipped under your shirt, fingers dancing on your skin

”yea”

You twirled his hair

”But don’t please don’t stop”

That was all he needed to hear….

—————————————————————————————

Your shadows danced across the walls, the fire casting a glow on your bodies as you rode his cock.

”F-fuck!”you whined as pleasure ripped through your body.

Alastor’s hands were gripping your ass as you bounced on top of him.

He swirled his tongue around a perk nipple, groaning as your gummy walls gripped him.

”you feel so good” he mumbled, teething the mound, causing you to moan.

You threw your head back, a rugged gasp leaving you.

Alastor loved the noises you made, pushing his hips up to meet yours as if to carve his cock into your cunt.

”such a pretty sight you are my dear, if  only I could engrave you into my memory”

Your thighs were burning as you chased your release

”I’m-oh! Fuck fuck Al!”

He slipped a hand between you, thumb circling your swollen clit

”You gonna cum? Cmon baby cum on my cock, let me paint those pretty walls of yours white”

You whined and with a silent cry, you cummed, body shaking as you creamed around him.

Hot sparks ran through you as he toyed your clit, riding out your orgasm as you grind your hips against him.

With a sigh, you slumped against him panting as he planted his feet to pound into you until he came with a choked grunt, cock twitching as he filled you with his cum.

You pressed kisses along his clamming skin, humming as you came down from your high.

Thee two of you sat there, breathless, until Alastor intertwined one of your hands and brought it to his lips.

”Is it a bad time to propose?”

You laughed

[cressidagrey]

Looked to the Sky - Chapter 15

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!

Elain Bashing and without @k-godling this would have never happened.

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

Azriel was in Eira's bed. Between a quilted coverlet, white and florals, making a pattern that formed stars, and embroidered pillow shams, edged with lace. He felt out of place, surrounded by the soft beauty of her work, even when she had curled herself together in his arms, short nails gently scratching his scalp.

He was exhausted; physically, mentally, emotionally…he was utterly depleted, and it was only being in her soft bed, with her soft body pressed against his that made him able to relax at all.

He was laying on his back, with Eira curled up against his side, her head against his chest and her fingers in his hair, and he’d never felt more content.

His chest was rising and falling evenly, his breathing steadier and calmer than it’d been in a while. His eyes were closed, the tiredness and exhaustion making it almost hard to even keep them open.

Azriel shifted the wing she was half lying on, wrapping it around her, and Eira laughed softly but didn't even try to shift away.

Her soft chuckle was a soothing sound, like a balm to his soul. Her body tensed slightly against him with her laugh, but she didn’t move, her body practically melting against his when his wing cocooned her along with his arms.

It felt peaceful…calm, and it soothed the ache within him in a way nothing else could. Her body was a warm, comforting weight against his, her hair against his chin and chest, and the feeling of her fingers gently playing with his hair almost like a lullaby.

“You’re going to fall asleep,” she whispered, her voice soft and quiet. He could feel her breath against his chest, and it was the only thing to tell him she’d spoken, her words so gentle they were almost lost in the stillness.

“This is nice…” he murmured, his voice soft and sleepy and almost a croon, as he held her a bit tighter to him, his wing shifting around her, to hold her even closer.

There was a shifting, a moving of position, and then the next thing he felt was a kiss on his chest and the feel of her body pressed even closer to his.

“Rest then,” she whispered, and her voice was so soft, so soothing. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She started humming softly, singing just like she did for Nyx. And Azriel did fall asleep, just for a little while.

He woke up when razor-sharp claws scrambled up his leg and he watched with amusement how Snow made herself at home on his stomach, happily laying there, making Eira laugh silently, her giggles shaking him. He reached out to touch the tiny kitten with a broad, scarred finger and she purred softly as he petted her. 

“As long as she gets attention, she is happy,” Eira recounted with a snort, pressing a kiss against his cheek and he chuckled, the sound raw in his throat. 

A knock at the door, made him freeze. It's just the High Lady, the shadows assured him, just as the door was pushed open.

"Eira?"

The bed creaked slightly, as Eira pushed herself up off of his chest. He had to fight not to pull her back, his arms still tight around her, and against his will, he loosened his hold on her, though not by much.

"It's just Feyre," Eira soothed, her voice so soft, and quiet, as she looked back down at him.

"Sorry to barge in like this," Feyre said, her voice quiet though he could still hear it. "Are you two...alright?"

He sat up, carefully not to hit Eira with his wing accidentally. "We are fine," Eira promised, her voice warm, slipping her hand into his. "Everything is alright."

There was a slight pause, and he could practically see the assessing gaze Feyre was no doubt giving him at that moment.

"You sure? " Feyre asked, and he heard the disbelief in her words. "Because you look...rough."

“We had a talk," Eira said, her voice even. "Did you already write to him?"

He couldn't help the growl that burst out of his throat at that. Eira didn't even flinch. He heard Feyre suck in a breath, clearly startled by his reaction, even as he felt Eira's fingers grip his a bit tighter as if to remind him.

"No," Feyre said, her voice still laced with possibly a hint of…worry? "Rhys and Mor are still talking about what the best way to go about it is. They have a draft now, if you want to read it...Are you two hungry? You haven't really eaten."

He was hungry. But there was only one thing he currently wanted to eat and that was sitting next to him. 

You should eat, the shadows pressed.

Eira was still looking at him, and the look on her face was so soft and tender and worried it made it so hard to deny her. "...We'll eat," Azriel agreed finally, and he saw her shoulders droop infinitesimally as if she'd been holding tension there.

"We'll be down in a few minutes," Eira said calmly.

"Don't take too long," Feyre warned, her voice dry. "Rhys is going to start prowling if you two don't show soon. "

Azriel barely stifled a snort at Feyre's words, even as he heard Eira let out a soft giggle.

"We'll be down soon,” Eira reassured Feyre. "We'll be down soon."

She waited until Feyre had left before she leaned to press a kiss against his lips. "Come on. We'll have to tell our family, don't we?" And that easy acceptance...like she didn't even need to think twice about it...not hesitating for even a moment to tell their family about their engagement, even when there wasn't a ring to show for it...

It made his heart twist in his chest, a painful yet overwhelming sort of feeling.

He couldn't help but pull her closer against him, leaning in to wrap his arms around her body, as he hid his face in the crook of her neck, his nose buried against her hair. "I don't deserve you," he whispered against her skin.

"You do. And I'll tell you that every day for the rest of our lives," Eira disagreed.

He let out a shaky exhale, his breath shuddering against her neck. The feeling of such certainty in her voice…he couldn’t help the way he shook against her, his limbs almost trembling against her as he held her.

"Let's go downstairs," Eira said, offering her hand to him.

He took her hand without protest, the idea of food a bit more palatable when it included her, with him.

His fingers clenched around her own, clutching her hand as if he was scared that if he let go she might disappear.

He heard her soft exhale at his grip, but she didn’t say a word about his hold as she tugged him off the bed after her. Her hair was mussed, her clothes rumpled from where she’d laid against him on the bed, but she simply shook out her skirt and that was it. She tugged him across the room towards the door and pulled him gently after her.

He let her pull him along, the touch of her hand the only grounding thing as his nerves twisted and his worry over what their family’s reaction might be. Would they be happy? Or would they be confused, horrified, angry?

"Nice of you to come back," Cassian drawled from where he was sitting, Nesta draped over his lap, whose grey eyes were immediately mustering Eira before they stared at him.

"We needed a nap," Eira said simply, her voice as soft and gentle as ever, as she tugged him across the room towards an empty chair, and the table full of food

"A nap?" Cassian repeated incredulously.

"A nap and a talk," Eira said with a shrug. "Tell Kleon that sadly he was too late in his offer for my hand, as I am already taken," she told Rhys, her shoulders squared, her chin stuck out.

There were several stunned looks around the room, as Feyre, Cassian, Nesta, Mor and Rhys all stared at her.

The silence was near deafening. And then Rhys let out a bark of startled laughter.

"You’re engaged then," he said, and it was a statement, not a question.

She shrugged, still standing by his side, her hand still firmly gripping his. “We are.” The certainty, the conviction in her voice made something in his chest ache.

The others were still staring, their mouths opening and closing as if trying to find the words. It was Cassian who spoke first, his voice incredulous as he looked at them both.

“You’re…engaged?” he repeated, and his words were a bit slow as if he didn’t quite believe it. “Wait, when?"

“Tonight,” Eira said simply, and her voice was unwavering, her spine straight and her chin held high, as if in a challenge ."We got engaged tonight.”

There was another moment of silence, where the room was so still it was as if no one breathed.

And then Rhys let out another bark of laughter. “Well congratulations then,” he said, his voice full of amusement. “You’ve got a hell of a mate there, Az.”

And somehow that loosened every bit of tension. There was a chorus of congratulations, as Feyre led the charge and suddenly he was swamped with hands and arms and backs slapped and hair ruffled and laughter.

And through it all, Eira stayed beside him, her hand still holding firmly to his.

"Do not mess this up," Nesta hissed at him, even as she hugged him. He heard the threat in her words, as her nails dug into his skin with her hug. And he knew without a doubt she’d make good on that threat if he did mess it up.

But instead of being fearful, in that moment…all he could be was grateful.

For this...for the family surrounding them...his mate, still holding his hand...he was just...grateful.

"No ring yet?" Mor asked. "Az, you know better than that!" she complained good-naturedly. 

He knew. He knew. He did want to get Eira a ring, a visible claim, something that everybody could see. 

"It’s being made," he rasped, and his voice was a near whisper, his guilt so overwhelming at that moment that his stomach churned.

It's not, the shadows sniped. You haven't even decided what you want!

Shut up, he hissed back, his mind filled with a mix of irritation, guilt, and agony over the fact that he hadn’t even startedlooking for her ring when it was his duty as her mate to provide her with one. But she was still holding his hand, her grip firm, as if sensing his turmoil, as if reassuring him that his lack of a ring didn’t matter to her one bit. 

"I do like pearls," Eira told him with a grin. He could only look down at her as he heard the words, a new longing filling him.

“Pearls?” he repeated hoarsely. He’d been fully prepared to start looking for rings embedded with diamonds, with rubies, emeralds, sapphires…

But pearls…he could just imagine her, with pearls against her skin, her creamy pale skin framed by the white of pearls…

"And nothing big, please," Eira continued. That had his thoughts halting, and a frown pulling at his brows.

“...nothing big?” he repeated slowly, the words leaving a bad taste in his mouth. Was she saying she wanted a smaller ring? The idea of giving her a small ring felt wrong to him. When he thought of a ring for her, he couldn’t picture anything other than a large stone, a ring encrusted with gems and gold so that everyone would look at her and know she was his.

But the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. After all, he knew Eira and the last thing she’d ever care about would be having anything impractical that she needed to constantly take off. The more delicate, the more subtle, the more unassuming a ring he got her, the better she’d like it…

But the thought of giving her a small ring felt like he was settling. Like he was disrespecting her. She was his mate, the woman he’d spend his entire life with…she should have a ring that was just as beautiful, as elegant as she was...

"Aaaaaand we lost him," Cassian quipped.

Cassian’s words broke him out of his thoughts, and Azriel scowled at his brother, only to realize…how true Cassian’s words were. He’d been so deep in thought, in contemplating the details of the ring he would get her, that he had ignored the entire conversation around him. And they were all staring at him.

The weight of their gazes had his neck heat, as he realized what he’d done.

But Eira was still holding his hand, her thumb rubbing soothing circles over the back of his palm as if to reassure him, to calm him and soothe his guilt over not having a ring for her yet.

"I was just saying that unless you want to get married tonight, signing a betrothal contract would wrap you both in enough paperwork that it makes it very clear to Kleon that Eira is utterly uninterested," Rhys said drily. "We'll simply send the Winter Court a copy."

He breathed a sigh of relief.  “Yes,” he said, his words eager, his grip on Eira’s hand unconsciously tightening as he spoke. “We should…we should do that.”

"If you think you can pay 2 cows for my sister and be done, you are sadly mistaken," Nesta said drily, making Rhys laugh.

"He doesn't even own a single cow," Rhys said with a laugh. That startled a laugh out of Azriel, and he saw Rhys, Cassian, Mor, and Feyre all struggle to hold back a grin. Feyre seemed to barely succeed in suppressing the sound, her lips quivering.

But Eira’s hand tightened in his, her eyes narrowing, but there was a hint of an amused gleam visible in them. “I am not a prize cow in need of bartering.”

Azriel had to bite his tongue to suppress a grin, the idea of his mate as a “prize cow” was both ridiculously charming and utterly absurd. “No, you’re not,” he agreed firmly, his voice rough. “You’re mine.”

"Besides, you can put whatever you want in these betrothal contracts," Mor said drily. "And it's not like they weren't oftentimes just made between families with no exact person even in mind, or that you can't put in them whatever you want. You want to put in there that Azriel forfeits his entire fortune if he does anything Eira doesn't like? You can."

"We are not doing that," Eira said sharply.

But Mor only gave her a sly smile, the gleam in her eyes sparkling. “You never know, Eira…he might just be tempted to do something stupid someday….”

"The shadows are on my side. I don't need his fortune," she gave back drily.

That startled a choked laugh out of Azriel, as he looked down at her.

“I feel like I should be insulted,” he said dryly. “Should I worry that you’d only be happy with me for my shadows and not for me ?”

Eira gave him a smile that was nearly wicked. 

“Maybe I would,” she said teasingly, and Azriel could see the gleam in her eyes, even as her fingers clenched against his side as if to hold him firmly to her. “Maybe I’ll only keep you until I can get the shadows to switch sides and become mine instead.”

His jaw almost dropped at her words, the audacity of her teasing, the hint of playfulness in her words, and he heard Cassian bark a laugh while Feyre gave a stifled giggle that sounded almost like a snort.

But he couldn’t even try to come up with a response, his mouth opening and then closing again as he tried to think of something to say…

"What do we need to do?" Eira asked Rhys. "We sign a piece of paper with our intent to marry, and that's it?"

Rhys leaned back against the back of his chair, an amused look on his face. “That’s it. It’s simple honestly. It's a blood-bound contract though."

"I don't need to drink his blood, right?" Eira asked, suddenly sounding worried.

Azriel had the sudden urge to laugh at her question, the fear in her voice at the prospect of having to drink his blood.

"No," he said, struggling to hold back a smile. "No blood drinking."

"You'll only need to prick your finger," Rhys promised with a laugh That managed to get a breath of relief out of her, and Azriel couldn’t help the urge to smile.

She was still worried, even with the simple task of a blood-bound contract. A contract that would tie them together, that would make sure that any other suitors, Kleon knew that she was spoken for, his. Her agreement to sign a contract to marry him…

He didn’t know what to think, what to feel. Just…everything, swirling together in a roiling mass in his chest.

"Paper and ink, Rhys," Azriel said, his words a near croak, strangled out past his tight throat.

Rhys’s gaze snapped to him, his eyes scanning over his face, then his lips curled into a small smile, as he nodded and stood.

"Paper and ink," Rhys repeated, his smile still firmly in place. "Coming right up."

It was the work of minutes to work out the wording, keeping it simple. 

Azriel’s hands shook slightly as he signed the contract, the words blurry in front of his eyes, his mind whirling at the reality of what he was doing.

His hand trembled as it went to his thigh to the sheath of Truthteller, and he pulled it out. He nicked the top of his thumb on the blade, letting the blood well in the cut

He let the red drop fall, watching it splatter on the paper, a thick, red smear that turned into a stain, dark and blotchy.

He’d just signed a contract, a blood-bound contract, pledging himself, promising himself to her, binding his life to hers…

He offered the pen to Eira, and his vision was tunnelled, as if the only thing his mind was capable of seeing was her slender hand, her fingers wrapping around the black ink pen as if to take hold of their future with her grip.

He held out Truthteller for her second, hilt first.  She reached out, her hand reaching for the blade, and a flicker of panic rose in him as he looked down at her, her small, beautiful, delicate hand reaching for something that could hurt her.

“Careful,” he managed to say, the word almost hoarse as he spoke, his voice rough. “You have to be careful, it’s sharp…”

She held the blade gingerly, the knife looking large and ominous in her small hands.

He watched as she studied it, a moment of hesitation clear as she stared at the blade, before pressing the tip against the pad of her index finger.

She winced, but only slightly, as she pricked her finger, a bright drop of crimson welling and then falling next to her own signature. The words around them were little more than a buzz in his ears, the only thing he could focus on was the fact that she’d done it, her signature and blood staining the paper...binding her to him.

Nesta signed next to her.

He watched as Rhys took the parchment, rolling it tight and sealing it with a wave of his own power.

"Done," Rhys said, his simple word shattering the silence that had descended around them.

Azriel had the sudden thought that he could hear his heartbeat, how it was thumping in his chest, louder than a drum in his ears. A pounding beat that echoed in his head, pounding along with three simple, perfect words in his mind.

His mate.

"That's it?" Eira made sure.

“That’s it,” Rhys said with a smile, that small, amused quirk to his lips firmly in place. “You’re officially betrothed now.”

Azriel couldn’t help the way his own lips curled up upon hearing those words, his thoughts replaying them over and over in his head.

Betrothed. Officially betrothed.

The words were like the sweetest honey to his ears.

Eira turned to glance up at him, those lovely blue eyes, flecked with silver looking up at him, her gaze curious, contemplative…and happy.

And looking at her, at the smile on her face, the happy gleam in her eyes, he realized that he’d never be able to get enough of that look, of the look of pure joy and hope on her face.

***

She was engaged.

The thought left her both giddy and scared, her heart beating a rapid tattoo against her chest.

Azriel…she was engaged to Azriel.

It was almost too much to comprehend, to even wrap her head around. 

The male she had never thought she would be able to have…the one she had fallen in love with the very first time she had seen him…

The man who made her smile and laugh, who made her feel all warm on the inside. The man who looked at her as if seeing her was more beautiful than anything in the entire world…

She was engaged, to the male who made her heart race in her chest, the male who with one look could leave her breathless and dizzy, the male who somehow looked at her like she was the most important thing in the entire world, like he’d do anything for her.

She was quite sure that she was never going to get over that.

The way he looked at her like she was the most precious thing in the entire world, the way his shadows reached out to her, the way they twined around her as if to shield her…

There was a certain amount of possessiveness in the way he held her, the way he touched her, as if he didn’t want her to ever be out of his reach.

And at the same time, there was a hint of reverence in his touch, in the way that he held her, as if he was afraid he would somehow break her if he didn’t hold her gently and tenderly...

Gods, she was getting worse than her sister’s romance novels wasn't she?

Eira didn’t know whether to laugh or not…she was being absolutely ridiculous, wasn’t she?

But gods, the way he smiled at her, the way he looked at her, his eyes full of such wonder every time his gaze found her…

Her good mood was even in spite of the weather, gloomy and cold as she pulled on a set of clothes and readied herself for the day.

The skies were overcast, the threat of rain in the air. The clouds were dark and heavy, hanging over the city heavy and grey, but even that could not dampen her spirits.

"You are in an awful chipper mood," Rhys said drily as she came down for breakfast. Feyre was yet nowhere to be seen but Nyx grinned at her as she dropped a noisy kiss to her nephew’s black hair.

“Maybe I am,” she said in a singsong voice, not even bothering to deny it as she reached for the platter of food. “What do you suppose could have me so happy?

Rhys raised an eyebrow at her, an eyebrow arched up almost to his hairline.

“Oh you know,” he said, his tone as dry as a summer desert. “I can’t imagine what could possibly have you in such a wonderfully happy mood…”

She hid a smile behind a bite of toast, even as Nyx babbled up at her, his small hands reaching up towards her, his small arms held up.

She reached out, picking him up and settled him on her lap, ruffling his hair and earning a bright, joyful laugh from the toddler.

Her nephew seemed happy enough to stay in her lap, his little hands reaching up to pat at her face as if fascinated by the sight of her.

She laughed softly, swatting his little fingers away before he accidentally stuck them in her eye, her gaze flickering back up to Rhysand.

He was watching the interaction between her and Nyx, his eyes flickering back and forth between the two of them, a smirk on his lips.

“He'll miss you, you know,” he casually commented, and she felt her spine stiffen in an instant at the words, her chest clenching slightly, her heart skipping a beat at the words. "Whenever Azriel and you do find a house to make your own."

Rhys' words startled her, the prospect of leaving Nyx behind making her heart pang in her chest, a twinge of sorrow sparking in her chest. "I'll still visit," she protested,  as she looked down at the toddler in her lap, the child happily patting his little hands against her face. Of course, she would visit. He was her nephew. 

Rhys' expression was almost rueful. "That won't change the fact that he'll miss you," he pointed out, just as Nyx gave a particularly gleeful laugh, his little hand accidentally smacking her cheek in his excitement.

She gave a small wince as the toddler's hand smacked against her cheek, a soft thud that stung just a little.

"He's young, he'll forget about me eventually," she said stoutly, even as the thought made her heart clench slightly.

"About his Auntie Ra Ra? I highly doubt that," Feyre said as she came into the dining Room. "But then, maybe you'll give him a cousin or two to play with."

The sound of Feyres's voice had her glancing up, and she gave her sister a smile, though her words made her cheeks flush as her heart stuttered in her chest.

"One step at a time," she said with a laugh, but the thought of children was already in her head.

Azriel's children, her own children…

She felt her head spinning, the prospect both terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.

Children...children with Azriel, with the male she cared so, so much for…

It was something she'd once thought would never happen, a family of her own.

The thought of it, of marrying Azriel, of having children with him…it filled her with wonder.

And even the nervous thrum of energy it sent through her didn’t diminish her mood.

She was just about to reach for a slice of bread, when she heard the entrance door open. She looked at Rhys questionable, who gave her a smile. "Azriel. It seems like my spymaster was thrown out of bed by his shadows at an ungodly hour."

Her heart skipped a beat at the words, her stomach flipping, and a sense of anticipation running down her spine.

And then she felt his presence like a brush of a cool draft, the feeling of his shadows winding through the room, almost like a greeting just for her.

They immediately twined around her wrists and hands, hissing wordlessly... like Snow sometimes purred just because.

A soft laugh escaped her at the feeling of the shadows, at the familiar way they reached out to her, winding around her wrists and hands, almost as if greeting her.

She reached out to brush a finger along one of the shadows, feeling a strange sense of joy at the way the shadow leaned into her touch, wrapping around her finger, almost as if nuzzling her skin.

Their Master was not far behind. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, in the doorway, his usual leathers covering him, his hair mused slightly from sleep, a hint of a smile on his face as he looked at her.

He almost took her breath away just from the simple sight of him, his dark clothes hugging his frame, his hair slightly mussed as if he had woken up late, his eyes still a little cloudy from sleep.

And that hint of a smile on his lips, just for her, a soft smile that managed to send her heart fluttering in her chest.

"Good Morning," he greeted. "I thought I...may get to kidnap you after breakfast?"

Her heart just soared even more at the words, a small laugh escaping her, her mood soaring at the prospect of spending time with him.

“You’re not too tired?” she asked, and his smile grew, a hint of mischief in his gaze as he looked at her. "I heard the shadows threw you out of bed at an ungodly hour," she quipped.

Azriel just shook his head, a small smile playing around his lips. "They had an errand for me to run," he answered.

“Important, I presume,” Rhys commented, his tone slightly dry.

“Of course,” Azriel replied, his gaze flickering across the room to her, the smile on his face growing into something a lot closer to a cocky smirk. “Of the most importance.”

"Where are we going?" Eira asked as she stood, finishing her Marmelade Toast with two more bites.

"Not that far," Azriel answered. "But put on a coat please, it's getting colder."

She didn't even get to respond before the shadows had already managed to get her coat from her room, making her sigh as they wrapped her up in it.

She was helpless to resist as the shadows worked her arms into her coat, a huff of laughter leaving her lips at their eagerness.

She managed to roll her eyes as her arms went through the sleeves of the coat, the shadows wrapping her up in her coat with almost gentle delicacy, almost as if they feared they might somehow break her.

A gentle tug on the hem of her coat had her turning back to face Azriel, who had an almost fond look on his face as he looked at the shadows.

"Are you alright?" he asked, nodding towards the black shadows, but there was a twinkle of amusement in his gaze.

"I'm fine," she replied, though she felt the flush in her cheeks increase slightly as she cast a look down at the shadows, feeling that odd sense of both affection and annoyance. "Your shadows are just...overly eager," she quipped.

"I can't really fault them," Azriel responded as she took his arm that he offered, waving to Feyre and Rhys as he led her out of the room. "How do you feel about flying?"

"The one time Cassian took me, I vomited all over him," she said drily.

Azriel gave a low, dark scoff, a hint of annoyance in his gaze at that. "Of course Cassian would make you vomit," he said, a hint of annoyance in his tone as he said his friend's name.

"Well, if it makes you feel better," Azriel continued, glancing down at her through half-lidded eyes. "I won't be diving and swooping the way that idiot would do."

"That's a little reassuring," she said drily, even as her stomach fluttered.

It was reassuring, definitely better than the thought of vomiting all over him, but it didn't stop her heart from thudding slightly as he led her towards the door. 

They were going to be flying.

Her stomach did a little somersault as the thought raced through her mind, even as he led her out the door, her breath caught in her chest as the wind tugged at her clothes.

She was going to be flying with Azriel, in his arms, with those wings of his.

"You still trust me, right?" The sound of his voice pulled her from her thoughts, and she looked up at him, her heart fluttering slightly as she saw the certainty in his gaze, the look in his eyes that made her forget how to breathe for a moment or two.

"Of course," she said, the words breathless, her heart skipping a beat in her chest.

She trusted him more than anything else in the world, more than everything. And while she didn't trust flying...she trusted him.

He seemed reassured by her words, a hint of relief flickering in his gaze for a moment, his lips twitching slightly into a small smile. And then he moved, one arm sweeping under their knees and picking her up into his arms, holding her against him in a tight, secure embrace.

"Just hold on to me." It was all the warning she was going to get.

There was hardly any time to respond, for him to even give her warning, and then her feet were leaving the ground, leaving the safety of the ground as he wrapped her tight in his arms.

And then they were in the air, the ground suddenly falling away beneath her.

She instinctively tightened her grip on him, her arms wrapped tighter around his neck, holding on to him for dear life as she felt the wind against her body.

She shut her eyes tight, burying her head against his shoulder, feeling the sensation of falling and a small, terrified gasp escaped her, her grip on him so tight she was probably cutting off his circulation.

"Relax, sweetheart," his voice was a low rumble against her ear. "Just relax. I've got you, you're safe...nothing's going to happen, just relax..."

She could hear the reassurance in his words, in his voice, and she tried to relax, tried to listen to him and the steady, reassuring tone of his voice, to the steady, calm beat of his heart, even as her own heart was pounding.

"You're fine," he repeated, his lips brushing against her temple, his breath a soft shiver against her skin. "You're fine, I won't let anything happen...just trust me, sweetheart."

She dared to peek over his shoulder...seeing the rushing water of the Sidra beneath them. They were crossing over from the River House towards the House of Wind.

The view was slightly dizzying, and she shut her eyes again with a small whimper, her head resting against his shoulder, her face buried in his leathers, as she tightened her arms around his neck.

"Almost there," he comforted her, the words a low rumble against her ear. "You're doing great, just hold onto me, love..."

And then she could feel the descent, tightly controlled, slower than she was sure he had ever done it before, only for her benefit...and she concentrated not on the ground that was coming closer but on these massive, majestic wings that stretched from his back.

She concentrated on the sight, on the dark, membranous wings that stretched from his back, on how majestic he looked, with the sun shining on his wings, and then her own feet were once again touching solid ground, and she realised she had barely dared to even breathe the entire flight.

She stood in his arms for a moment or two, her limbs still trembling from the nerves, her lungs gasping for the air they'd been denying themselves for God knows how long.

"See? Completely and perfectly safe," he said, his voice quiet. "No vomiting, no dropping you. Completely safe."

She let out a shaky exhale at his words, forcing herself to relax as she took a deep breath, her heart still pounding against her chest, her body still trembling. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that," she managed to say, a hint of breathlessness in her voice.

"Maybe you just need a lot more practice," he quipped, and she could hear the hint of amusement in his voice, the hint of satisfaction, that he was able to make jokes again. “A lot more flights with me. Maybe hundreds…”

She managed a small laugh at his words, feeling her heart give a little bit of a flutter at that, and she could picture it, hundreds of flights, all in his arms, just like this, and it flushed her face with colour.

"Maybe we should take it one flight at a time," she said, still laughing slightly.  "I think all the flights are just going to leave me as a trembling, terrified mess if I keep vomiting or panicking every time I get in the air, and I highly doubt you want that."

He pressed a kiss to her temple, as he finally let her down and only then she took in her surroundings. They were on the other side of the Sidra and she could still see the River House in the distance...

"Where are we?" she managed to gasp out, still trying to catch her own breath, her heart still racing furiously, her legs feeling a little wobbly from the flight.

Home, the shadows said brightly. We are home!

She looked down at the shadows who were writhing around her legs, a small smile playing around her lips as she watched them.

"Home," she repeated, feeling a sense of wonder and excitement coursing through her heart as she looked up at the house in front of her, taking in the sight of it, and feeling the beginnings of possibility.

Eira stared at the grey stone house, overgrown with ivy...with a blue door and matching blue shutters on its windows. It wasn't massive. Not huge. But big...big enough to house a family. Two stories and an attic, tucked along a side arm of the River. It looked...magical.

Slightly depilated, like it hadn't had somebody to take care of it...but…She stared at the house, taking it in with wide eyes, a thousand different thoughts and emotions rushing through her mind.

It was...perfect. It was perfect.

It was perfect and every little detail of it filled her with a sort of longing, a longing to make it theirs.

"Do you..." she spoke, her voice low, as she continued to stare at the house in front of her. "Does it have a backyard ?"

Azriel let out a low laugh, clearly amused by her question. "Of course it does," he answered a hint of laughter in his voice. "Do you really think the shadows would have picked a house that doesn't have space for your vegetable garden?"

She felt her cheeks flush pink with embarrassment to have her desire for a garden so utterly transparent, but she didn't shy away from it, just huffed a small breath of laughter under her breath, even as her heart did a funny little leap in her chest.

Let us show you! the shadows said excitedly, twirling around her wrist again and tugging her towards the house. There was no chance to resist even if she had wanted to, the shadows pulling her along towards the house, and she followed, a hint of excitement and anticipation rushing through her.

She cast a glance back at Azriel over her shoulder, but he only followed behind, a soft smile on his face.

The shadows were already opening the front door, letting her inside, and she stepped into the front hallway feeling her breath catch in her chest.

It was...perfect. It was perfect.

And it could be theirs.

She walked around, taking in the small hallway, the wooden floors, the high ceilings, looking into the living room, the kitchen, feeling a sense of possibility filling her as she looked around. And the shadows were already showing her around, racing ahead of her as she looked, almost seeming to vibrate with excitement as they pointed things out to her.

There was a sitting room, a formal dining room, a study, a large kitchen, a cosy nook set into the side of the house, and a small bathroom all on the first floor.

The shadows tugged her up the stairs. Towards the master bedroom, overlooking the stream. And then they tugged her into a room overlooking the garden.

The shadows were vibrating with such excitement now that she could barely keep up with them, but they tugged her forward, showing her the room.

For the babies, they whispered.

"For the...babies?" She repeated, feeling her heart leap into her chest, as she looked around.

It was perfect. For a child. For a few children. Plenty of space, and a full wall of windows that looked into the garden, and her heart was racing.

Yes! The shadows were practically cheering. For the babies!

She turned and met Azriel's eyes from the doorway, He was leaning up against the doorjamb, watching her, a slight smile on his face as she looked at him. He raised an eyebrow at her, a gleam in his eye as he looked at her.

She couldn't do anything but look at him, her heart hammering in her chest, her face flushed with excitement.

"You like it?" he asked, a note of smug satisfaction in his voice, and she could tell he was already pretty sure of the answer, having seen the shadows showing her around and having watched her reaction the whole time.

“Yes,” she breathed out. “But I need to see the garden.”

This time it was Azriel who let out a low laugh, amusement dancing in his eyes as he pushed away from the wall and crossed to where she stood.

“Of course you do,” he said, and there was an odd...tenderness in his voice, a fondness in the gleam in his eye. “Let’s go see the garden then.”

She didn’t even have a moment to hesitate, before he reached forward and took her hand. The contact felt like sparks in her skin, her breath catching in her chest as he intertwined his fingers with hers, and tugged her forward, leading her from the room and back down the stairs.

She was aware of the way her heart was racing as if trying to break free from her chest as they walked, and she could practically feel every point of contact between them. His hand in hers, every brush of his skin against her fingers, every place they were touching... Her skin tingled and danced, her breath caught in her chest, and she could have sworn she was shaking.

And then he tugged her from the back porch, tugging her out into the garden, and her attention was fully captured as she looked around her, at the space around her-

It was perfect. A space of green, of flowers... A riotous assortment of blooms, vegetables, a place to sit, a place to play...

And there was…as she turned back towards the house, and saw the blue door…suddenly she remembered. Remembered Elain’s vision. Remembered the fleck of blue in the background…remembered…this was their home. This was the place for their children, where they would grow and learn.

She looked at the house, at the back porch and the windows, the flowers and vegetables around her, and she felt her eyes growing watery, a sense of longing in her heart, a sense of home, the picture so perfect in her mind. And in her mind’s eye, she saw it - children running through the garden, playing in the grass, their laughter filling the air…

She imagined it. The children’s laughter, the sound of life. She could picture it, children racing around the garden, playing in the grass, children with light hair and dark eyes, and her heart ached, her throat closing up with an almost painful longing.

She wanted it. She wanted it more than she had ever wanted anything else in her life…

Eira turned towards Azriel, who was still watching her, a soft, tender expression on his face. He already had known what she was doing, that she was picturing what the garden would look like with their children, what the house would look like full of life, and she could see the longing in his own eyes, the same emotion that burned in her chest.

“Let me at least do this one thing right,” he requested softly, as he stepped close to her, as he grasped her hand and sunk down on one knee. “Eira Marie Archeron, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

She stared at him, her heart stopping in her chest. He was kneeling in front of her, his hand wrapped around hers, hazel eyes gazing up at her, a hopeful, hopeful gleam in his eyes, as he waited for her to answer.

She wanted to say so many things, wanted to tell him so many things, but the only thing that would come out of her mouth was a soft “Yes”…

He let out a shaky, almost desperate exhale, almost as if he had been holding his breath the whole time, waiting to hear her response, before his fingers tightened around hers, a fierce, hopeful gleam in his eyes, and it felt like her heart was burning in her ribcage.

She wasn’t even sure from where the ring that he slipped on her finger suddenly appeared. Silver. One pearl, flanked by diamonds. Small enough that it wouldn’t get in her way. But so utterly beautiful that she could only stare.

“The shadows had it all narrowed down,” Azriel said quietly. “They threw me out of bed this morning to drag me all around Velaris to show me the rings they had picked out. I chose this one…I thought it was the most…you.” She stared at the ring in wonder, taking in the simple beauty of the silvery metal and the diamonds and pearls. She would have been happy with any ring, any piece of jewellery that he gave her, but this...it was so her, she couldn’t help but smile, her heart filled with something sweet and warm and fluttery at the sight of it, at the thought of the shadows guiding him.

She could picture it, the shadows, tugging him all over the city, the shops lining the Sidra, guiding him to the perfect ring, and she loved the thought of it, of how the shadows wanted to help Azriel pick this perfect ring, that they wanted to help make this moment perfect for both of them.

“We would be lost without you,” Eira told them and they preened in response

They swirled around her happily, almost fluttering with pride, their dark matter moving like ripples in a pond as they basked in the praise, and she couldn’t help but smile at them, letting out a soft laugh as she watched them dance around her.

[daycourtofficial]

I got cursed like Eve got bitten - part XII

Pairing: Azriel x Rhysand's sister!reader | WC: 2.5k | Warnings: none

Summary: reports of a rare powered fae popping up in Illyria send Azriel and Rhysand on a journey through the past, unraveling a truth they thought long buried

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This morning you had been greeted by Feyre, her chirpy voice had a sense of urgency to it as she asked if you had any plans for the day. “We are hosting a very formal and stuffy figure from the Court of Nightmares, and we would feel better if you weren’t around for it.”

Your brows raised, but Feyre quickly cut in again. “Not because we don’t like you or anything, but our visitor is quite.. atrocious. I wouldn’t subject anyone to his presence if necessary.” She spent a moment looking for the right words, but whoever this was clearly was not someone Feyre liked or even tolerated.

You nodded, “I’m no dignitary, I’m not sure my presence would be necessary in the slightest.”

You felt a pang in Feyre’s chest, something quick and gone in a flash. Guilt, maybe. It was getting easier to feel the emotions of the people around you, however it was difficult to distinguish everyone’s emotions. The way Feyre felt happiness was different than how Rhysand felt it, causing it to be more work for you to decipher individual emotions.

But something about Rhys’s emotions felt familiar.

“Was there anywhere you’d like to spend the day?”

You thought for a moment, having spent the past few days exploring the city’s restaurants. “Is there a library in Velaris?”

Feyre’s eyes lit up in delight, “I know just the place. Azriel will lead you there.”

Your heart stopped momentarily, blinking. You hadn’t seen Azriel since your power display a few days ago, and when you had asked, Feyre told you he had been gone on a mission for a few days, having just got back in last night.

But that didn’t mean he was far from your thoughts. 

The first night he was gone you were plagued with dreams about him, his shadows cloaking the two of you in a thick darkness as you fell through the skies. As the nights went on, the dreams became more intimate - both sexually and emotionally. One night you dreamt of holding his hand, that dream immediately being followed up with a dream of him bending you over the vanity and forcing you to watch the two of you in the mirror.

You weren’t sure what it was, but you knew being near him would be difficult, these feelings so new for you.

“Are you unavailable?” Your words came out stuttered, uncertain. She quirked a brow at you before her gaze softened. “I am, yes. So is Rhysand.”

Mother’s tits.

“I am terribly sorry, this was very.. Abrupt.” She chose her words carefully, a mask of politeness on her face. “But I can assure you that you’ll be fine with Azriel.”

Something pinged in your chest, a sharp warmth crawling your skin at her words.

“Thank you for the reassurance.” 

She nodded before heading to walk away and your head reeled at the conversation as her steps retreated. Why was it your powers only really worked on males? Were their emotions that much simpler to untangle and assign names to?

You were lost in thought about how unreadable Feyre was to you when a soft breeze carried the scent of pine and night chilled mist.

Azriel.

You turned, his hazel eyes standing out amongst the shadows covering his face. He smiled at you, each day the bags beneath his eyes growing smaller, the crook of his lips getting bigger.

And more inviting.

“Did you sleep well?”

Your face flushed, thinking back to the lack of sleep you had gotten. Every time you had closed your eyes, it was as if your brain were playing a story between the two of you, a moving picture of a make believe life, flashes of joy and heartbreak and domesticity.

You coughed it away, “yes, thanks. Did you?” 

He merely hummed in response, deepening your blush. He looked at you as if he knew what you were up to all night - how your sleep was plagued with images of his hands, his legs, his mouth. How in a last ditch effort to find some peace, your hand slipped beneath your nightgown as you thought about the vivid dreams of his fingers, his scarred hands in lieu of your own.

The breath rushed from you. Had you said his name while thinking of him?

You could feel his amusement in your chest, and you pushed him slightly, not moving him in the slightest.

“Can you take me to the library?” You were quick to change the subject, not wanting to know exactly what your neighbor heard you doing. He nodded, his face looking at you with less amusement and more kindness. 

It made him radiant.

“Where is this library?”

You grabbed a coat, tightening it around yourself before heading toward the front door. You stopped when you realized he wasn’t following you, turning on your heel to look at him. He nodded his head toward the balcony, moving toward it.

“No.”

He put his arms across his chest, one of his siphons glowing a deep blue on his chest.

“Why not?”

“I don’t fly. Wingless, remember?” You moved your hand behind your head to show the empty space your wings took up. Your words caused a pained expression to cross his face, but it was over just as quickly as it came.

“Yes, I am aware. Are you aware I have two arms?”

You gaped at him, “you can’t be serious.”

“Do I look like an unserious male?”

“You look very jovial to me.”

He scoffed, “will you please come with me to the balcony so I can take you to the library?”

“Why can’t we walk?”

“It’s impossible to get there on foot.”

The surprise was all over your face. “Is this a flying library?”

“No.”

“Then there must be a footpath somewhere.”

He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. His shadows peeked over his shoulders, as if they were laughing. “There is, but it’s a 10,000 step staircase. What would you prefer?”

You thought it over, contemplating being in the sky, in Azriel’s arms, or passing out halfway up the steps.

You chose the former, Azriel hoisting you into his arms bridal style. He carried you as if you weighed nothing, walking you to the balcony, each step heating your face. His hands wrapped around your waist and legs, his touch doing something to you that you were praying to the Cauldron wouldn’t shift your scent enough for him to notice.

“Are you ready?”

You swallowed hard, before nodding, face full of heat, “is it too late to say I’m afraid of heights?” 

He squinted, “just a little late.”

His wings stretched out behind him, his knees bending slightly as he took off into the skies, his large wings flapping quickly to get you both airborne. You screamed in his hold, causing his grip to tighten around you as he held you. “I’ve got you.”

His voice did little to soothe the panic inside of you. Your arms tightened around his neck, holding on for dear life. You hid your face in his neck as he flew high up in the sky, gaining altitude. 

“I always thought flying was a sacred thing.” Your words were meant to distract yourself, but they only caused you further discomfort as he responded.

“It can be. Some Illyrians go on mating flights.”

Your brows raised, moving in his arms to get a better look at his face, but he continued looking forward. 

“Have you ever been on one?”

The flap of his wings halted suddenly, his flight pattern stuttering, causing the two of you to dip suddenly before picking back up, a soft scream coming from your lips.

“That is a very private question.” His smile lessened, and you felt like a reprimanded child with his response. Your mouth went dry, desperate to change the conversation and to have him change the look on his face.

“Do you like flying?”

He sighed, happy for the shift in conversation. “I do. I like flying with my brothers.”

“Brothers? I thought you had only one.”

His flight stopped again, and you heard him curse underneath his breath.

“Yes I have two brothers. They’re both a pain in my ass.”

You giggled, your fingers subconsciously playing with the hair on the back of his neck. Once you realized what you were doing, you pulled your hand away, not wanting to see the look of annoyance you thought you would find.

Instead his face was covered in disappointment, quickly covered up with stoicism.

“Why’d you tell me you only had one?”

He shrugged, the movement strange as he held you. You could tell he wouldn’t elaborate more, opting to stay quiet. His shrug was enough of a dismissal for you to steer the topic away from his lie.

“I don’t have any siblings. At least none that I know of.”

He nodded, looking apologetic. “I’m sorry.”

You shrugged, “it’s not your fault.”

You turned away, watching a massive castle come into view. “Wow.”

You took in the stone architecture, the structure built right into the side of the mountain. You could see where the ten thousand steps came from, a direction you’re glad you avoided.

Azriel banked to the right, flying the two of you to land directly on a balcony. His landing was incredibly gentle, a stark contrast to the landings you had seen in your village.

“Thank you, Azriel.”

“You can call me Az.”

You looked up at him, and you felt something like vulnerability in your stomach.

“Okay, Az.”

Now you felt butterflies at how happy he looked at the nickname.

“I’ll be back for you in a few hours, don’t fly off with any strange bats.”

You giggled, looking out the window. “As if I didn’t fly here in the arms of a strange bat.”

Az smiled, and his emotions felt familiar in your chest as well. Like Rhysand’s, but different. They felt stronger, something inside of you urging you to fix it. His chest felt heavy, but like the weight was manageable. As the two of you spoke, it got lighter and lighter, occasional flickers of joy and amusement slipping through.

He nodded, “yes but I’m the least strange of them all.”

With those words, he turned and walked away, taking off from the balcony, but not before he glanced back at you one last time before he disappeared in the sky.

After he left, you craned your head, looking around the library. You didn’t see anyone, but you heard shuffling and occasional floor scuffing, so you knew at least someone was here. You walked around for a while, your hands feeling the stacks as you searched the titles, pulling anything seeming of interest. You had pilfered through Rhys and Feyre’s library at the River House, but this one was much, much bigger.

After picking a stack of books you could barely carry, you wandered through the floors, looking for the perfect spot to curl up. You weren’t sure how Azriel was going to find you, but he only told you to stay in the library, and you were technically following his instructions.

A few floors below, you found a quaint little corner nook that had a fireplace, a few cozy chairs, some blankets, and the walls were covered in old maps. You smiled, satisfied at how perfect the spot seemed before dropping into the chair, opening the first book in your pile, quickly getting lost in the pages.

You weren’t sure how long you had been engrossed in your book, half of it finished, when footsteps interrupted your reading. You looked up, expecting to find Azriel, but the male before you wasn’t him. He wasn’t even Illyrian. You had never seen a full high fae male before - Rhys was the first wingless male you had ever seen. This male looked… different. He was incredibly attractive, long blonde hair and brown eyes observing you. He had a small button nose that curved up at the end, and you were taken aback by just how pale he was. His skin was practically translucent, the color of his veins visible through his skin.

You didn’t know fae could be so pale. 

You smiled in greeting, nodding politely. He looked up and down your body, and you straightened from the relaxed position you had taken while reading, putting a bookmark in your book before setting it down.

“Well, I don’t believe I have ever been so engrossed in a book myself. It must be fascinating.”

You smiled, your lips straining at the action. He made you feel weird, his emotions a confusing ball inside of you you began attempting to untangle. “Oh, yes. I love a good mystery novel.”

His ears perked at your words, his lips quirking in a smile that made him more sinister than attractive. 

“I am quite fond of mysteries as well.” 

He thumbed through the shelves that surrounded your nook, silent strides across the rug, making his way further into your cozy corner. “And perhaps I have found one.”

You gave a half laugh, confused at his words.

“What’s a pretty birdie like you doing away from Illyria?”

“I’m sure you’re mistaken, I’m no birdie.”

His eyebrows raised, an expression of faux shock on his face. “Forgive me, I can be insensitive to your people’s ways.” He stopped in front of the fireplace, the light casting his light in shadow. “Where were you from?”

You eyed him wearily before telling him, “Tartu.”

He moved to the left, his gaze set on the map on the wall, his finger tracing around a few spots near your village, creating a line between the spots and your village.

“In such a small village, I imagine Velaris is a fairytale.”

His words held no malice, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of slime coating his words as they hit your ears.

“Yes, I would agree. It’s a beautiful city.”

He walked the room, eyes lingering on the books lining the walls, his entire presence filling you with dread. “Rhysand makes interesting choices in terms of what he keeps close to the vest. Interesting choice for a High Lord to hide the city he spends most of the year in.”

Your eyes widened at the disrespect toward Rhys - in the few weeks you had spent in Velaris, no one had spoken ill of him to you. “I beg your pardon, I’m not following.”

He rubbed the dust away from his fingers, extending a nod toward you. “He’s a man shrouded in secrets, be cautious of what lies beneath the fog.” He walked toward you, picking up your hand in his. His skin felt like ice as he brought it to his lips, his kiss sending chills through your body.

“What a pleasure it has been, finding you here.”

You search his pale eyes for some flicker of warmth, the ice you found inside making your insides burn with cold. “Likewise.”

The lie rolled off your tongue, watching his blonde hair swish as he left. The room felt suffocating in his scent, and you were never quite able to get as comfortable as you had been before his visit.

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Thanks for reading ❣️

[iwritefandomimagines]

FIRST AND LAST — PRINCE FRIEDRICH

masterlist

pairing: prince friedrich x reader

description: it has been tradition all season long that prince friedrich occupies your first and last dance of every evening. it is well known that his engagement is looming, so no man dares ask to take these dances from him. that is, until one clueless lord makes that awkward mistake.

warnings: pure fluff, tiny bit of jealousy from my sweet prince, but predominantly pure, tooth-rotting fluff !

“The season is almost over,” Daphne Bridgerton hummed, flitting her fan across her chest as you stood at the edge of the ballroom, “Do you think the prince might propose this evening?”

You laughed, watching as the prince eyed you from across the floor despite dancing with another young lady.

“I hope so,” you replied, pure happiness in your tone as you thought of the future you had discussed so extensively with the man who had won your heart with such ease, “Though he himself requested a long courtship. Oh, Daph, you should’ve heard him. He told me he was certain he was falling in love with me and wished to wed, but that he wanted to prolong our courtship to ensure I too was certain.”

“Gosh, Y/N, how romantic,” Daphne grinned.

“He is absolutely a dream,” you fanned yourself now too, growing flushed at the thought of just how deeply your feelings for the Prussian prince ran, “I of course told him I feel the same regardless, but he said that though he’d wed me in a heartbeat, it was fun to pretend we were still in the early stages of courting. And of course, I save every first and last dance for him and only him.”

Daphne was swooning at the prospect, and given her confusing situation regarding her ruse with the Duke, their sudden marriage, and how in love they quite clearly were, you were unsurprised that she was so excited to hear that your blossoming relationship was thriving so.

“Speaking of which, my dear friend,” she lifted your dance card from your wrist to see that as ever Prince Friedrich’s name graced the bottom of your card, “It appears you have danced with all others.”

As you looked away from her, you saw the prince smile in your direction, sending your heart into an absolute frenzy, “He appears to be on his way over!”

Before he could cross the floor, however, a gentleman you barely recognised obscured your view of the man you loved, stepping directly in front of you with a smile on his face.

“Lady Y/N,” the man bowed, “I am Lord Francis. I apologise for never making your acquaintance sooner, for my work and travels delayed my arrival in the Ton,” he took your hand to kiss its back, and as he leaned to do so you saw the prince behind him with a frown on his face, now mere meters away, “You are truly a diamond, and I should most certainly wish to know you more. You cannot imagine my relief upon seeing that you were yet unbetrothed. Might I have your next dance, my lady?”

You swallowed thickly, looking to Daphne for help but finding that she had slipped away amidst his little speech.

You were tempted to scoff at the man’s audacity to so abruptly ask of a dance at the end of the evening when he had chosen so late in the hall to introduce himself. And, of course, you were entirely uninterested.

Before you had the opportunity to respond, however, Prince Friedrich was at the man’s side.

“Ah, Lady Y/N,” he bowed, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it that lingered as he looked up at you and made you swoon, “Each time I see you in that necklace I am reminded why I selected it for you. It was made for you, to be sure.”

You giggled shyly, both feeling giddy around the man you loved and at the clear reason for his choice of words. He was here to assert his place, jealousy coursing through his royal blood.

“Oh your highness,” you curtsied, “Thank you again for the beautiful gift. I was wondering when you might return to share my last dance, as always. I do so look forward to it,” you flashed your dance card to the rather impertinent Lord Francis with a falsified frown, “I do apologise, my lord, but I have not yet shared my final dance with anyone but the Prince. And I do not wish to change that tradition.”

The gentleman scampered away without another word, leaving the prince to capture you in his arms and lead you to the dance floor.

“I am certainly glad to be rid of that fool,” he grumbled, and you reached up to run your thumb along his cheekbone soothingly, internally frustrated that the action would end up in Lady Whistledown’s writings the next day.

Your voice was barely above a whisper, “Oh my love, you needn’t worry. You know that if I could I would dance only with you the entire night.”

The prince was more than satisfied with this, a broad smile gracing his strong features as you continued the rhythm of the waltz you found yourself in.

“I am pleased to hear that, to be sure,” he beamed, “And once this dance is through, I hoped we might have a moment to talk. Perhaps on the balcony?”

You nodded softly, “Any moment with you, I could never deny myself.”

He smiled, and as the dance drew to a close you found yourself growing nervous.

Had this small moment of jealousy spurred on a proposal? Or perhaps he had always intended to propose tonight?

Perhaps it was not a proposal at all, and he just wished for some fresh air and a chance to chatter away from the eyes and ears of the ballroom?

You caught Daphne’s eye as you followed the prince outside, noticing her eyes widen in excitement as she too expected you to return to the ballroom engaged.

You bit your lip, allowing yourself to share her excitement for just a moment before nerves slipped into your mind again.

You reached the balcony after what felt like hours, with time seeming to progress in slow motion as you waited to hear what it was the prince wished to discuss.

“My dearest Lady Y/N,” he began, capturing both of your hands in his as his eyes twinkled down at you in the moonlight, “You must know that since we met, you have been the sun around which I revolve. You captured my heart the very moment I first saw you, and with every discussion of a future I have grown more certain that it is with you I wish to build a life, a home, a family,”

“Oh my dear prince,” you were certain you could taste blood, your heart pounding with anticipation as it truly sunk in just what was going on, “You must know that the feeling has always been entirely reciprocated. Every moment I have spent with you has been blissful, and I rather selfishly wish for an eternity of such moments.”

He shook his head, “It is not at all selfish, my dove. For it is what I wish for too. An eternity with the love of my life at my side, wherever we might find ourselves.”

You shared a brief moment of comfortable silence, staring into each other’s eyes as you could think about nothing but his gentle touch and romantic words.

He was everything you could’ve dreamed of in a man, and now here he was professing that he too was enamoured by you.

Even though he had made it quite clear how he felt before, in this very second everything felt as though it fell perfectly into place.

The true love you always dreamed of finding but never expected to… He was right here, about to ask for your hand and sweep you off of your feet.

“It is for this very reason, my love,” he began again, keeping his hold of your left hand but dropping to his knee in a split second, “That I find myself desperate to ask — will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

“My gosh!” you exclaimed, nodding excitedly as he slipped the most beautiful ring onto your finger and rose to his feet again, “I would love to. I can think of no future more exciting than one as your wife.”

He kissed your hand again, now peppering kisses around the ring he had just given you, sending sparks throughout your body at his delicate touch.

“I cannot wait to begin our life together properly, as man and wife,” he grinned, reaching to push a stray hair from your face as he spoke, “Free of meddlesome gentlemen who have no regard for one’s prior commitment.”

“My darling, you truly had no need to worry,” you giggled, lifting your free hand to your mouth to stifle it a little, “He could not hold a candle to you, and I would never have given up my dance with you for him. I wish always for my first and last dance to be with you… And every dance in between.”

He pulled you flush to his chest now, spinning you softly to the faint sound of the orchestral tune still playing in the ballroom.

“Then my every dance is yours, my love,” he hummed, discreetly pressing a gentle kiss to your temple as he spun you around, “Always and forever.”

“I love you,” you were truly in a state of pure bliss as you danced, choosing to ignore that you were most certainly being watched, “More than I can ever express.”

“I love you as such also, my future princess,” he replied, pausing your dance just to look at you intently again for just a second before he spoke, “And I shall spend our whole life showing you.”

“I am so incredibly lucky to have fallen in love with you,” you shook your head in disbelief, still smiling up at him.

“It is I who is lucky,” he disagreed, looking up into the night sky littered with stars, “And the stars in the sky are lucky to every day be graced with your existence too.”

“You flatter me, my love.”

“And I intend to continue to remind you how wonderful you are, my dove,” he practically whispered, dipping his head lower so that you could feel his breath fanning over your face, though not close enough to induce any more scandal than your balcony dance might already have done.

“It’s a pleasure to be forever your first and last dance… And I can only hope to be your first and last love, if you would let me. For you most certainly shall be mine.”

“You shall be mine too, my love. I am certain of it.”

———

ok fluffy af because i am currently in looove with the prince and idk where it came from but i had to write this once i had the idea!!!

if you have any requests (right now preferably bridgerton, djats or criminal minds) then please feel free to send them in and i’ll make a start this week!

also pleaaase let me know in comments/reblogs what you think!

in the meantime, here is my masterlist!

[novaursa]

To Win a Princess (the dance)

- Summary: Once you come of age, the realm seeks to curry the King's favor once more by seeking a hand of his younger daughter. You. 

- Paring: targ!reader/Tyland Lannister

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: 1

- Next part: dragon's favor

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

The soft rustle of leaves and the gentle hum of a late afternoon breeze fill the gardens, bringing with it the scent of roses and lavender that thrives under the warm sun. You walk alongside Rhaenyra, her arm linked through yours, her silver-gold hair glinting in the sunlight. The serenity of the gardens is a welcome reprieve from the scheming and scrutiny of the court, a space where you and your sister can simply be.

Rhaenyra has been watching you with a curious smile for most of the stroll, her expression carrying the familiar glint of mischief. Finally, she speaks, her tone light but teasing. “So, tell me, sister,” she begins, giving you a sidelong look, “just how long has this… tryst with Lord Tyland been going on?”

You feel a flush creeping up your cheeks, and you try to hide your smile, though Rhaenyra’s knowing look makes it difficult. “Why is it so surprising to you, Rhaenyra?” you counter, feigning innocence. “Surely, you’ve seen the way he… well, he’s not so terrible, is he?”

Rhaenyra lets out a delighted laugh, squeezing your arm as she steers you toward a shaded bench beneath a flowering tree. “Not terrible, perhaps, but a Lannister? Of all the men in the realm, you chose one with golden hair and pride the size of Casterly Rock.”

You settle onto the bench, glancing down as you try to gather your thoughts. It isn’t often you speak of Tyland openly, but something about the warm, playful energy of the afternoon makes it easier. “He’s more than just his pride,” you reply softly, daring to meet her gaze. “There’s a kindness in him… a gentleness I didn’t expect.”

Rhaenyra arches an eyebrow, her smirk softening into genuine curiosity. “Truly? I’ll admit, I never thought of Tyland as gentle. He’s shrewd, ambitious… but gentle?”

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips as you recall the many times Tyland has sought you out, those moments away from prying eyes, the way he listens as though every word you speak holds meaning. “He surprises me, too,” you admit, “but that’s part of it. I feel… seen with him, Rhaenyra. Not as a princess, but as myself.”

Rhaenyra’s expression softens, a thoughtful glint in her eyes as she studies you. “It seems I underestimated him,” she says quietly, almost to herself. Then, as if unable to resist, her teasing returns, a sparkle dancing in her gaze. “But do tell me, how long have you been sneaking around with our golden lion?”

A nervous laugh escapes you as you avert your gaze, the memories dancing in your mind. “It’s been… a few moons now,” you admit, glancing up to gauge her reaction. “It wasn’t something I planned. It just… happened.”

Rhaenyra tilts her head, her expression caught between amusement and genuine interest. “A few moons?” she repeats, mock scandal in her voice. “And you hid this from me all this time? I’m wounded, truly.” She places a hand over her heart, feigning offense, though her smile betrays her amusement.

You laugh, nudging her shoulder playfully. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. I would’ve told you… eventually.”

“Eventually?” she echoes, raising a brow. “The moment I stumbled upon the two of you in each other’s arms, you mean?”

At this, you can’t help but laugh, the memory of her walking in on you and Tyland both mortifying and oddly thrilling. “You could have knocked, you know,” you retort, though the heat rising in your cheeks betrays your embarrassment.

Rhaenyra chuckles, shaking her head as she watches you with that familiar, affectionate exasperation. “And miss the sight of my little sister tangled up with Tyland Lannister? I wouldn’t dream of it.” She pauses, her gaze growing softer, more serious. “But truly… he makes you happy?”

You meet her gaze, feeling the warmth of her concern mingling with her amusement, and you nod. “He does,” you say softly, the honesty of it settling in your chest. “He’s… I can’t explain it, Rhaenyra, but with him, I don’t feel the weight of courtly expectations. He sees me as more than just a princess.”

Rhaenyra smiles, a mixture of pride and understanding in her eyes. “Then I suppose I can overlook the fact that he’s a Lannister,” she says lightly, though there’s a sincerity beneath her teasing. “Though, I must say, I never thought the day would come when my sister would be ensnared by a golden lion.”

You roll your eyes, smiling as you give her hand a squeeze. “Nor did I, if I’m honest. But love doesn’t always follow sense, does it?”

She sighs, casting her gaze over the blooming roses nearby. “No, it doesn’t,” she agrees, a wistful note in her voice. “But sometimes, the unexpected choices are the ones that bring the most happiness.”

A comfortable silence falls between you as the two of you sit together, your hearts open, the bond between you growing stronger with every shared word. Finally, Rhaenyra speaks, her voice soft.

“Just promise me one thing,” she says, her gaze meeting yours. “That you’ll be careful. The Red Keep has eyes and ears, and if Otto Hightower hears of this…”

You nod, her words sobering you. “I know, Rhaenyra. I’ll be careful.”

She nods, a warm smile brightening her face. “Good. Because I want you to have this happiness, sister. No matter how surprising it is.”

As she squeezes your hand, you realize that whatever may come, you have Rhaenyra’s support—and that, perhaps, is a bond as powerful as any love.

The gentle laughter you share with Rhaenyra fades as the unmistakable presence of Queen Alicent Hightower approaches. Her measured steps announce her arrival, the rustling of her green silks mingling with the birdsong in the garden. You feel Rhaenyra’s arm tense slightly, her once-warm smile cooling as she glances over, her expression wary.

“Princess Rhaenyra,” Alicent greets with a polite nod, her gaze shifting to you with a softer smile. “And dear Y/N.”

“Queen Alicent,” Rhaenyra replies, her tone courteous but distant, her hand instinctively tightening around yours as if to draw strength. You sense the animosity between them, a sharpness that lingers beneath Alicent’s formal smile. But the queen presses on, undeterred, settling gracefully onto the stone bench opposite you both.

Alicent’s gaze turns to the garden, an almost wistful expression crossing her face. “It’s lovely here,” she remarks softly, her voice carrying the warmth of someone trying to reconnect. “I remember when we would spend entire afternoons here together.”

Rhaenyra’s lips press into a thin line, her gaze distant. “A lifetime ago,” she replies, her tone polite but without the warmth they once shared. You squeeze her hand in gentle reassurance, sensing that Alicent’s presence stirs old memories better left undisturbed.

Alicent’s expression flickers with a touch of regret, though she quickly composes herself. She turns to you, her smile brightening. “I wanted to speak with you, actually,” she begins, her tone light, as though she wishes to lift the mood. “I’ve noticed that my brother, Ser Gwayne, has taken quite an interest in spending time in your company.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes flick toward you with a knowing look, one eyebrow raised in faint amusement. She says nothing, but the hint of a smirk is unmistakable, a silent commentary on the idea of you and Gwayne.

“Oh?” you reply, keeping your tone neutral as you meet Alicent’s gaze. “He has been… courteous.”

Alicent’s smile widens, clearly encouraged by the response. “Gwayne admires you greatly. He speaks of your kindness, your grace,” she continues, as though sharing a compliment she believes will sway you. “He truly wishes to know you better… if, of course, you are amenable to his company.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes meet yours again, barely masking her bemusement, though she says nothing. She simply leans back, watching with thinly veiled amusement as Alicent’s words spill forth.

“Gwayne has always had a gentle heart,” Alicent continues, her voice soft with fondness. “He is deeply loyal, and… well, he finds it difficult to express his feelings openly. But I know he would treat you with utmost respect and devotion.”

You nod politely, feeling the weight of Alicent’s expectation. “I’m honored by Ser Gwayne’s regard, truly,” you say carefully, choosing your words to avoid giving her false hope. “But… my interests are perhaps not so aligned.”

Alicent’s smile falters slightly, though she quickly regains it, her eyes flickering with something akin to disappointment. “Perhaps you would reconsider? He is a good man, my brother. He would make a fine match… and I would be glad to see you cared for by someone close to me.”

Rhaenyra’s gaze sharpens, a protective edge slipping into her expression. “It seems, Alicent, that your family’s ambition knows no bounds,” she says lightly, though there’s a steel in her voice. “First, your father as Hand, then you as Queen, and now Gwayne in pursuit of my sister.”

Alicent’s face tightens, but she maintains her composure, her voice calm but resolute. “It is hardly ambition to wish for my brother’s happiness,” she counters. “He holds your sister in high regard and desires nothing more than her respect and, perhaps, her favor.”

Rhaenyra’s expression shifts, a faint smirk curving her lips. “Yet it is curious, isn’t it? That Gwayne’s interest coincides so well with the political goals your family has pursued since coming to court.”

Alicent’s gaze hardens slightly, though she masks it behind a polite smile as she turns to you once more. “I speak only out of affection, dear Y/N,” she says softly. “You are a beloved member of our family, and I hope to see you happy. Surely, you would not dismiss Gwayne without giving him a chance to show his sincerity?”

You hesitate, sensing the charged undercurrents between Rhaenyra and Alicent, each of them vying in their own way for your allegiance. Rhaenyra’s unwavering support fills you with confidence, but Alicent’s words tug at you, laden with an almost motherly care that is difficult to ignore.

“Gwayne has shown me every courtesy,” you reply diplomatically, glancing at Rhaenyra with a reassuring smile before turning back to Alicent. “But my heart is not easily swayed, and it is a matter I would consider deeply before… encouraging anyone.”

Rhaenyra chuckles softly, her gaze warming with approval. “It seems, Alicent, that my sister values her independence. She is no flower to be plucked and claimed.”

Alicent’s face flushes, a faint pink rising on her cheeks, though she maintains her composure. “Of course,” she replies with a forced smile. “I only wished to extend the offer. Gwayne is a good man, but I understand that matters of the heart cannot be forced.”

Alicent rises, smoothing her skirts with an elegant flick of her hands, her posture perfectly composed once more. Before she turns to leave, she offers you a gentle, almost imploring look. “If you should change your mind, dear Y/N, know that Gwayne’s admiration and regard are sincere. He would be honored by any time you allow him.”

Rhaenyra gives a light, almost dismissive nod, her expression unreadable as she watches Alicent. You can sense the layers of unspoken tension beneath her poised exterior, the long shadows of past grievances lingering just out of reach.

As Alicent walks away, her figure fading into the gardens’ winding paths, you feel Rhaenyra’s hand tighten around yours. She turns to you, her violet gaze laced with a blend of exasperation and humor.

“Of all the men she could push forward, it had to be her own brother,” Rhaenyra murmurs, her voice dry with amusement. “Do they truly think a Targaryen princess would be so easily swayed by a Hightower?”

You let out a quiet laugh, relief flooding over you now that Alicent is gone. “Perhaps they believe that persistence will change my heart,” you reply, your tone light. “But you’re right. My interest lies… elsewhere.”

Rhaenyra arches a brow, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “Elsewhere indeed. I know exactly where that ‘elsewhere’ leads, and it’s not in the Reach.”

You laugh, nudging her playfully. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

Rhaenyra chuckles, her laughter filling the air like music as she leans in close. “Perhaps, but you cannot deny that it amuses you.” She studies your face, her gaze softening with affection. “If Tyland truly makes you happy, then that’s all I need to know. The Hightowers can push Gwayne at you as much as they like—it will make no difference if your heart is set.”

You meet her gaze, feeling a warmth in your chest at her support. “Thank you, Rhaenyra. It means more than you know.”

Rhaenyra shrugs with feigned nonchalance, though her smile gives her away. “Anything for my favorite sister,” she teases. “But be careful. If the Queen and her family begin to suspect… they won’t take kindly to being spurned.”

“I know,” you reply softly, your mind drifting briefly to the consequences that could arise if your connection with Tyland were discovered. But there, in the warmth of Rhaenyra’s presence, the weight of those worries feels lighter, more manageable.

Rhaenyra releases a long breath, her gaze growing serious. “Promise me, Y/N, that you’ll guard your heart—and your secrets—well. The court is a dangerous place for those with something to lose.”

You nod, feeling the weight of her words settle within you. “I promise, Rhaenyra.”

A comfortable silence falls between you, and she squeezes your hand once more, her expression gentle. “Good,” she murmurs. “Then let them whisper. You and I will know the truth, and the Hightowers… they can dream of what they’ll never have.”

With that, she stands, offering her arm as the two of you begin to walk through the gardens once more, your sister’s laughter ringing in your ears, the silent promise of her loyalty a steady presence by your side.

The memory of that night, the night of the royal wedding between Princess Rhaenyra and Laenor Velaryon, lingers in Tyland Lannister's mind like a flame he can’t extinguish. It had been an event of grandeur, of black and crimson banners draping the hall, of jewels and silks shimmering beneath the light of a thousand candles. The air was thick with the scent of wine and roasted meats, the laughter of lords and ladies echoing off the walls as music filled the space, captivating and rapturous.

But Tyland’s attention had drifted only to you, as you glided across the dance floor, your silver hair gleaming like starlight, your gown a rich fabric that moved with your every step. From his vantage point, you had looked like a living flame, captivating, unrestrained. He felt the heat of his gaze on you, willing you to look his way, and, as if summoned, your eyes met his across the crowded hall.

As the dancers changed, he felt his heart stutter with anticipation, knowing his turn to dance with you was approaching. When he finally stepped forward and offered his hand, his heart pounded as your fingers slipped into his, warm and soft. He held your gaze as he led you onto the floor, unable to stop a slight smile from curling at the corners of his mouth.

“Princess,” he greeted you smoothly, his voice barely above a whisper as he inclined his head.

“Lord Tyland,” you replied, your tone carrying a faint challenge that ignited something deep within him. “I was wondering when you’d finally come forward.”

“Ah, you wound me,” he teased, falling into step with you as the music swelled. “You make it sound as though I would ever miss the chance to dance with you.”

You raised a brow, amusement glinting in your eyes. “Then why do you appear so hesitant? Surely, a Lannister doesn’t fear dancing with a Targaryen?”

Tyland chuckled, his hand settling firmly yet gently at your waist as he guided you into a graceful turn. “I assure you, my hesitation has nothing to do with fear,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a low rumble as he leaned closer, catching the faint scent of the lilies woven into your hair.

You tilted your head, eyes narrowing playfully. “Then what does it have to do with, my lord?”

He paused, his gaze locking with yours, emboldened by the thrill of your challenge. “Perhaps I’m simply testing the waters, seeing how close I can get to a dragon before feeling its fire.”

Your laughter was soft but unmistakable, a spark dancing in your eyes that made his breath catch. “And here I thought lions were meant to be brave,” you replied, your voice warm with amusement, yet carrying that same unmistakable edge.

“Bravery, perhaps,” he whispered, his gaze dipping momentarily to your lips as you danced in perfect sync. “But a lion is also a cunning creature. We know when to wait for the right moment to strike.”

There was a pause, a heartbeat stretched between you as the dance carried on around you, each spin and step closer fueling the tension growing between you. You studied him for a long moment, as if assessing his worthiness, the curiosity in your gaze deepening.

“Is that so, Lord Tyland?” you murmured, a faint smirk pulling at your lips. “Then perhaps I should be cautious. I would hate to fall prey to a lion’s ambitions.”

Tyland leaned in, his hand tightening slightly at your waist as he pulled you closer, his voice a mere murmur against your ear. “Then perhaps, Princess, you should be the one testing me.”

Your breath hitched, your eyes searching his with an intensity that made his pulse race. And in that charged silence, something shifted. He could feel it—the shared thrill, the mutual curiosity, a wordless invitation. And he accepted it, his heart pounding as he held you in his arms, his smile one of satisfaction.

The dance ended too soon, though he could feel the promise lingering in the air as you both pulled away. He felt your hand slip from his, your fingers lingering for a fraction of a second longer than necessary, and his heart raced with anticipation.

Hours later, when the feast was at its height and the hall was bursting with revelry, Tyland slipped away into the shadows, knowing exactly where he hoped to find you. His steps were careful, quiet, weaving through dim corridors until he reached the secluded alcove outside the hall, where you stood waiting, the faintest smile playing on your lips.

“Bold of you to come here, Lord Tyland,” you murmured, your voice soft but filled with challenge.

He chuckled, stepping closer, his gaze fixed on you. “You left me no choice, Princess. You asked me to test my bravery… and here I am.”

You arched a brow, the flicker of amusement in your eyes matched by something darker, deeper. “Then show me, my lord. Show me what bravery looks like.”

Without another word, Tyland closed the distance between you, his hand reaching up to cradle your face as he pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as though he couldn’t quite believe the feeling of you in his arms, the warmth of your breath mingling with his. But as your fingers wound into his hair, pulling him closer, his own restraint broke, the kiss deepening into something hungry, consuming.

He felt your hands trail down his shoulders, your touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake as his own hands settled at your waist, pulling you flush against him. The world outside faded—the music, the laughter, the politics of court—all of it washed away, leaving only you and him in the darkened corridor, the thrill of forbidden intimacy thrumming in the air.

When you finally pulled back, your lips slightly swollen and your cheeks flushed, you met his gaze with a smirk that made his heart race all over again. “Not so timid after all,” you murmured, your voice low, satisfied.

He laughed softly, his thumb brushing across your cheek as he held your gaze. “Only a fool would be timid in the presence of a dragon.”

You chuckled, giving him a light shove, but your fingers lingered, and the shared look between you promised that this was only the beginning. As the night wore on, and you eventually slipped back into the feast, Tyland knew that he’d been consumed by a fire unlike any he’d known.

From that night on, he belonged to you entirely—no matter the danger, no matter the risks. You were a dragon, and he was your lion, drawn to the flame with no desire to ever leave its warmth.

The memory of that night fades like the embers of a long-burned flame, leaving a faint ache in Tyland’s chest as he stares into the stone hearth of his chambers. The memory of you, the dance, the kiss, lingers at the edge of his mind, the taste of it far too vivid, far too consuming. But a clearing of a throat breaks through his reverie, jolting him back to the present, to the heavy, quiet room where Lord Jasper Wylde sits across from him, watching him with raised brows.

“Lord Tyland,” Jasper says, a hint of amusement threading through his gruff voice. “Did my last question lose its way in the gardens, or have you simply found it unworthy of answer?”

Tyland blinks, shaking off the haze of memory, and offers a faint, apologetic smile. “Forgive me, Lord Jasper,” he replies, straightening in his chair. “I must have let my thoughts drift. What were we discussing?”

Jasper leans back, his gaze sharp yet patient as he studies Tyland, clearly accustomed to the distractions that come with a life spent at court. “I was asking your opinion on the shipments from Lannisport,” he says. “There’s been talk of a delay due to unrest in the region. Rumor has it the gold mines are under scrutiny from local lords dissatisfied with their share.”

Tyland leans forward, absorbing the information, his focus returning to the matters of the realm. “Ah, yes, Lannisport,” he murmurs, steepling his fingers as he considers the implications. “A delay from Lannisport would disrupt trade across the Westerlands. The mines, especially, are too valuable to leave in a state of disorder. The Crown’s revenues rely heavily on the flow of gold from those regions, as you well know.”

Jasper nods, his gaze steady. “Precisely my concern. If we allow these grievances to go unaddressed, it may only embolden others to make demands, or worse, interfere with shipments bound for King’s Landing.”

Tyland’s mind races, formulating a response. “I would suggest we increase our presence in Lannisport, send a delegation that shows the Crown is listening but not yielding to pressure. We can provide a show of respect without sacrificing the authority of the Westerlands. Perhaps even involve a trusted voice in the negotiations—someone impartial enough to reassure the local lords while also binding them to our terms.”

Jasper gives a thoughtful nod, his gaze approving. “A wise course, and one that wouldn’t disrupt the flow of trade. But who would you suggest for such a delicate role? It would need to be someone with a reputation beyond question.”

Tyland taps his fingers against the table, the faintest smile flickering at the edges of his lips. “My brother, Jason, has managed such matters for years. While he might not possess the subtlety of some, his presence would reassure the lords in the Westerlands that we take their concerns seriously. He’s a straightforward man—hard to argue with, yet sensible enough to bend without breaking.”

Jasper chuckles, the sound deep and approving. “Jason Lannister, a sensible choice. There’s no questioning his loyalty, and he’s well-known among the houses of the Westerlands.” He pauses, his gaze assessing as he shifts topics. “And what of the growing unrest in the Riverlands? I heard word from Lord Blackwood that some smaller houses are stirring, displeased by certain… Crown policies.”

Tyland sighs, leaning back as he considers the growing complexities in the realm. “The Riverlands have always been a challenging region—too many rivalries, too much history between the houses. They’re loyal to the Crown, but their tempers are easily stoked.” He pauses, meeting Jasper’s gaze with a slight frown. “If it were left to me, I’d send someone with the tact to ease tempers before they become flames.”

“Perhaps a mediator from within their ranks?” Jasper suggests, his voice thoughtful. “Someone respected on both sides, with enough influence to remind them of their obligations without creating further friction.”

Tyland nods, appreciating the insight. “A sound strategy. A mediator with strong ties to the Riverlands could curb any dissent before it grows beyond our reach.” He pauses, his mind still lingering on a different kind of flame, one far more consuming. He pushes the thought aside, focusing on the practicalities before him.

Just then, Jasper’s gaze sharpens, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes as he watches Tyland. “Tell me, Tyland,” he says, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, “you seem… distracted, as of late. I can’t say I’ve seen you so preoccupied with something—or someone.”

Tyland’s eyes narrow, though he keeps his expression neutral, choosing his next words with care. “A man’s thoughts can wander, especially in a court filled with ambition,” he replies smoothly, meeting Jasper’s gaze without a hint of vulnerability. “But rest assured, my loyalties remain where they always have.”

“Of course, of course,” Jasper replies, the faintest glimmer of amusement lingering in his gaze. “Still, I would venture that not all ambitions in the court have to do with power. I hear things, you know. Whispers, rumors.”

Tyland lets out a dry chuckle, though he feels a pang of irritation at Jasper’s probing. “Rumors have always been the lifeblood of the Red Keep, and most of them are hardly worth entertaining. I’m simply committed to my duties. Whatever whispers reach your ears, Lord Jasper, I advise you to take them with a grain of salt.”

Jasper raises an eyebrow, his smile unshaken. “Oh, I do, my friend. I do. But remember—such whispers, once spoken, tend to grow louder. And the court is a place where one can never be too careful.”

Tyland meets his gaze steadily, his voice quiet but firm. “Wise words, Jasper. But I assure you, I am fully aware of the risks involved in every step I take here.”

Jasper nods, a glimmer of respect in his eyes as he straightens. “Very well, Tyland. Just a friendly reminder from one ally to another.”

As their conversation shifts back to the matters of the realm, Tyland feels the lingering warning of Jasper’s words, a subtle reminder that he is always being watched, always under the scrutiny of those with ears and eyes on every movement. But even as they speak of shipments and unrest, his thoughts drift again—to you, to the memory of that first dance, and to the growing sense that whatever path he’s chosen, there is no turning back.

[janeyseymour]

Won't You Be... My Neighbor? -pt 2

Part 1.

Summary: Throughout the preparation for Melissa's court hearing, you find yourself falling for her.

WC: ~2.35k

“You’re a lawyer?” Melissa looks at you as if you just told her you were actually born on Mars.

You nod confidently. “A damn good one too.”

“Then what the hell are you doing here in West Philly?”

You chuckle. “I grew up around here. Liked the area, never really cared to leave.”

“Wow,” she whispers out in amazement. “Would you really be able to help me? I’ll pay you of course.”

You roll your eyes. “Of course I can help you. And don’t worry about a payment. I’d be happy to help you out.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she states.

You wave a lazy hand in dismissal as you sip your wine. “No it ain’t. Just… cook me a couple meals, and we’ll call it even.”

That gets the redhead to laugh a little. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Tell me a little about him,” you prompt.

So she does. The two of you chat long into the night, and it’s only when Melissa yawns for the fourth time that you smile at her, finish off what little remains in your glass, and stand. “I suppose I should let you get to bed. But let’s… reconvene soon?”

She nods sleepily. “I’ll see you soon, Y/N. And seriously, thank you.”

“Have a good night, Melissa.” You leave the apartment and head down the hall to your own.

As you crawl into bed that night, you think about everything that she had said to you. Genuinely, you feel terrible for the woman a few doors down. She seems to have put her heart and soul into that marriage, only for all of her hard work and care to go down the drain. And from what you can tell, she isn’t exactly swimming in money right now- especially taking on a new apartment and having a young child to care for on her own. But she’s doing everything she can right now to make it work, including working overtime at her school to tutor children who need extra help. Her ex-husband is making absolutely no contributions aside from the extra hell that he is giving her. You find yourself even more motivated to help your neighbor win her case against her husband and gain full custody of her son.

It’s a few days later when you run into Melissa again, and she seems just as frazzled as she was the first day you met her. JJ is on her hip crying again, pleading to not have to go to the grocery store.

You are just coming in from a rather long day at work, and while the last thing you want to do is look after a small child (one who will need lots of tender love and care to calm down), you make your way over to the pair.

“Hey,” you say softly as you adjust your briefcase slung around you.

Melissa runs a hand through her hair. “Hi.” She turns her attention back to her son. “Sweetheart, we have to get groceries for the week… but Momma promises she’ll be quick.”

“I don’t wanna!” the little boy screeches.

“Missed nap time at daycare,” the redhead whispers over his head. Then she presses her lips together in a fine line as she continues to bounce him on her hip. She tries to calm him with a few short hums, but JJ just continues to cry out.

You blow out a breath. “I can take him for a little while you go grocery shopping,” you offer softly.

Those green eyes meet yours immediately. “Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

“I don’t mind,” you say with a soft smile. “And it looks like you could use a break from kids for at least an hour.”

“Are you sure?” Melissa breathes out. “Because I can take him- he is my son.”

“I know he is,” you chuckle quietly. “But I also know that it’s okay to lean on someone to help you, and I told you I’m here for you.”

The teacher sighs softly. She looks down at her crying little boy. “Baby, Miss Y/N says you can stay with her while Momma goes grocery shopping, how does that sound?”

JJ whines out, but he looks to you with curious eyes and nods just once. His cries immediately start to soften as he realizes he doesn’t have to go to the dreaded grocery store and sit in that uncomfortable cart. He rubs at his eyes as he lets out a small yawn. “Momma?”

“Yeah, JJ?”

“I love you,” the little boy mumbles into Melissa’s shoulder.

“I love you too, honey,” the woman smiles softly as she presses a soft kiss to his head. “Can I put you down now so you can go with Miss Y/N?”

JJ nods, so Melissa sets him down on the ground. He immediately reaches for your free hand that isn’t holding your water bottle.

“Be a good little boy, okay?” the redhead instructs softly to her son. He nods, and you lead him down to your own apartment.

He’s as happy as a clam to sit with you while you go through a few more papers, and then you know it’s time that you should probably start making dinner. With a soft sigh, you lift him to your hip and start pulling out ingredients to make a meal.

“Dinner?” the little boy asks as he starts playing with the baby hairs that have fallen out of your ponytail.

“Yeah, hun,” you smile softly. “How does spaghetti sound?”

“I love pasetti,” your little neighbor mumbles.

You chuckle quietly as the way he says the word but nod. “Then that’s what we’ll have. Does your momma like spaghetti?”

He gives you a cheeky smile in response.

By the time that Melissa comes around to collect her son, you have him calmed down, fed, and giggling as you play Candy Land with him. However, she looks absolutely furious when you open the door.

“You okay?” you ask her quietly, although you very much know the answer already.

“Peachy,” is what she retorts. “C’mon, JJ. I have to get dinner started.”

“But Y/N already gived me dinner, and we saved some for you!” the little boy announces from his place on the floor, donned in one of your sweatshirts.

The redhead furrows her brows. “What?”

“I hope I’m not overstepping,” you say softly. “But he was hungry, I was making dinner, and I figured you might like to come home and not have to cook today.”

“That… wow,” Melissa sighs quietly. “Thank you.”

“It’s on the stove, and if it needs warmed, you’ve seen where my microwave is,” you smile at her as you return back to your game with her son. “Feel free to grab a glass of wine too if you want.”

As the redhead makes her way into the kitchen, she realizes that she can’t remember the last time someone made her a home cooked meal, even if it was something as simple as spaghetti. Joe had cooked for her maybe once as a way to get into her pants, and before then… it was her grandmother while her own parents were in the middle of their terrible divorce and custody battle.

The mother gets her dinner, and then she’s settling on the floor next to her son. She eats in silence, enjoying the fact that she does not have to entertain her son. She also watches as you handle him with such ease, making him smile and giggle the way that only she and Barb can get JJ to act. He’s such a sweet little boy, and the redhead would be lying to herself if she said that watching you with him didn’t make that small attraction to you just the slightest bit bigger.

You of course let the little boy win, and when he does, you tickle him relentlessly claiming that he was just too good and that he must’ve been cheating. His infectious laugh only makes you chuckle, and you know that you would do anything to keep this little boy happy- he already has a piece of your heart.

Then he tiredly crawls into his way into your lap and lays his head on your chest. “Sleepy,” is all he gets out as his eyes start to droop down.

The redhead stands, only half finished her meal. “I guess I should get him-”

You raise a hand as you stand and settle the two of you on the couch. “Don’t even worry about it. He can sleep on me while you finish your meal, and then you can tell me why you came in so pissed.”

Melissa chuckles, but she situates herself back on the floor. She watches the two of you for a bit as you lull her son to sleep with mindless humming and your fingers combing through his hair.

After a bit, you look down, and you know JJ is asleep. “So, you wanna tell me what had you so pissed?”

“Fucking Joe,” is all Melissa sighs out. “Told me that he’s looking for the best family lawyer in the city and that he’s gonna get custody of my son.”

“Well he’s screwed then, because that would be me,” you roll your eyes. “And I’m already taking your case on. Speaking of, there are a few papers I’ll need you to fill out in my briefcase, but I can get them to you tomorrow.”

“You’re the-” her eyes go comically wide.

“I am,” you say cooly. “85% success rate, and he doesn’t know that the odds are already stacked against him with most judges tending to rule with the mother having custody. And if he tries to pull any shit, I’ll make his life a living hell.”

And Joe does try to pull a bunch of shit- threatening Melissa, having his lawyers try to find loopholes around most things. And you just document it all. You and the redhead prepare for the case mostly after long days of work over a meal with that sweet little boy curled up in your lap and wearing one of your sweatshirts.

As the two of you prepare for the court case, you get to see more of the Schemmenti household. You get to see Melissa when she’s at her happiest, playing a simple round of Chutes and Ladders with JJ to take a break from all of the preparation. You also see her when she’s done up for school, and you swear she’s taken your breath away quite a few times. But you also see her at her lowest of lows, when she’s terrified that she’s going to lose JJ and that Joe’s threats are genuinely scaring her to the point of tears. You see her when she’s clad in her pajama bottoms and Eagles sweatshirt, ready to rip her hair out over the meltdown her son is having, and yet she’s still soft and warm with him. And it all… it makes you feel honored that you get to see her for everything that she is- apparently that isn’t a common thing for her to do, to let people in. And yet here you are, getting to know her and see every side of the redhead- even the parts that she doesn’t want you to see.

Her son is obsessed with you in the sweetest way, always coming and knocking on your door to ask if you can play a game with him or to simply give you a hug before he gallops his way back down to his own door with a proud look on his face. 

You would be lying to yourself if you said that you weren’t happy to find yourself a part of their little bubble and that you were falling more and more in love with your client each and every day that you get to see her (which is of course everyday, whether that be to chat over dinner, prepare for the hearing, or just a simple ‘hello’ as you pass each other in the hall). But she… she’s your client, and she’s going through a messy, messy divorce, and you don’t even know if she likes women. You have your own theory that she’s bisexual, but nothing has been confirmed. You can’t, in good conscience, make a move on her. So you don’t. You sit with your feelings and try to not let them consume you.

The day that you spent hours preparing for comes, and Melissa slides into her place very nervously with her son in her arms. She looks absolutely stunning in her dress pants and blazer, and JJ looks precious in his little outfit that you have no doubt is his Easter best.

“I thought we spoke about not bringing him here,” you say in a hushed tone.

The redhead runs a hand through her hair. “I know, I know. My sister was supposed to watch him, but she bailed last minute, Barb can’t watch him because she’s working at the school, and you’re my other babysitter.”

“He better stay quiet,” you warn. “It’s not uncommon for judges to put children in contempt if they’re noisy.”

“He won’t be,” Melissa promises you. “He’s got his little fidget toy, and we already talked about how to act because we don’t want to get taken from Momma.”

The hearing is long and arduous for all parties, but when that gavel comes down and the judge rules that Melissa has sole custody of her son with Joe only being allowed supervised visits due to his excessive drinking, the threats he had made, and his other habits you know it was all worth it.

The mother immediately bursts into happy tears while Joe starts to fume. He starts screaming and cursing, and the court officers begin to rush him out.

He’s not out of the room before he can get out, “You’ll pay for this, you bitch!”

Melissa, too caught up in smothering her little boy in love, doesn’t even pay attention to his words. And later on, she wishes she would have. 

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson

[b0xerdancer-writes]

It Wasn't Supposed To Happen Like This Part 3

Eris x Rhy's Sister! Reader

Summary: Eris used to be attached at the hip to Rhysand’s younger sister. Now that he has taken over as High Lord of the Autumn Court, his father’s old high table have been pressuring him to take a wife, he comes up with the brilliant lie that hes already courting someone and has been for several years now. Eris asks Rhysand’s little sister, the best way to get away with it and make it believable, to fake court her.

Warnings: Elain and Mor slander (I love Mor but it’s a plot point for later on I promise!), cussing 18+, some nsfw lean but no sex scenes yet, alcohol.

Trope/Prompt: Fake Dating

Word Count: 4,941

Notes: Part 3 is here, bit of a shorter chapter but im happy with where I left it off at, lots of Lucien and Eris bonding this chapter. Enjoy sweet affectionate drunk Eris. Not proofread at all. I posted this on my break. Posted on wrong account earlier oops!

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“You promised me we could go dance when I got back.” Happily intoxicated and finally relaxed, he wrapped his arms around me surrounding me with his scent of firewood and cinnamon. 

Lucien gave me an apologetic look from over Eris’s shoulder, as Eris nuzzled into my neck and hummed sweetly. A blush crept to my face at the overly affectionate display from the eldest Vanserra brother. His breath fanned across my collarbone as purred against me and I couldn’t help but feel an ache in my chest wishing for this to be a regular thing that I got to experience, but I was drawn from my spot as the forms of Azriel and Rhys talking with the other reentered Rita’s. I tapped Eris lightly on the shoulder and he made a hum of acknowledgement, his honey amber eyes seeking out my own  as he moved to pull me towards the floor. 

Just as I moved to stand myself I felt a squeeze of my hand from Mor, who was giving me a look that was a mix of sympathetic and apologetic.

 “I..,” she looked down into her lap where her other hand rested. “I never meant to lie, and I never meant for it to get so out of control like it is now. I, just, I’m sorry. I mean it. For what happened.”

I gave her a soft smile and squeezed back, biting back any bitter remarks that echoed in my brain after all these years of holding contempt against her. “Hey, no worries. We all have to do and say things to get by.”

She smiled softly back at me and moved her hand from mine into her lap as she let Eris pull me to the dance floor. She took a sip of wine and her shoulders deflated as Azriel and Rhys slid into the booth with her. Lucien had moved to the bar talking with the bartender there, though I couldn't see if he was ordering another drink or not. 

Eris pulled me close to him away from the prying eyes of the inner circle as he put his hands around my waist and tucked me into his chest, a slight rumble echoing there that I could only feel through the music.  The music was a slower one then what normally came from the live bands that rotated through, and Eris used it to his advantage as he leaned down to whisper in my ear, a small tilt of curiosity in his voice.

He brought my wrist up to his lips and pressed them to the small tattoo barely bigger than a fingernail. “What kinda deal did you make with her, hmm?” 

I moved to cup his face with the same hand he kissed. “You're too far gone to understand the significance of what it means right now if I told you.” I smiled softly, moving to pull him with the music as it began picking up into a faster beat, a new song.

He raised a brow at me with a cocky, sarcastic, yet relaxed look on his face. Mischief danced in his eyes, I’d never get used to how good that looked on him.

“I’m sure even in my haze I’ll understand.” He smirked as he pulled me tight against him, a move that was influenced by a mix of the music and trying to lure me into giving him what he wants; A move I knew all too well, that managed to bring me to my knees everytime.

I sighed as I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down so he could hear me over the pounding music. “It was a deal to get her to stop slandering you so much, I didn;t even think it was going to be a deal. Think she made it so I would understand how much she was sorry for everything she did.”

His eyes twinkled, as a smile bloomed on his face that made him practically glow. He cupped my face with both hands, eyes locking with mine. “You stood up for me again? Made a whole bargain just so I wouldn’t be slandered?”

I nodded and he purred loud enough I could hear it even with the blaring music. My heart skipped a beat as he dropped my face and pressed my body into his, leaning down to whisper into my ear.

“Darling,” he mused “I will never be able to repay you for all the favors you do for me. Thank you.” He pressed a kiss to my temple before he spun me around and pressed my back against his chest with a smirk.

“Plus, when you defended me against Azriel’s words earlier it was pretty hot little fox~.” He purred into my ear, blush crept into my cheeks and I spun out of his hold. 

He’s just drunk. There was no meaning behind his words really, just trying to get a rise out of me. “Get it together Eris, quit playing these games of yours.” I rolled my eyes and he let out a childish giggle.

“Okay, Okay fine. You win.” He surrendered but the mischief in his eyes wasn't gone.

He took my hand in his and spun me into him grabbing at my hands to lift me into his arms, my legs instinctively wrapped around his hips. He smiled wickedly at me, cheers erupted around us as the song came to a dramatic close. My eyes scanned the crowd behind Eris, everyone must have been watching us dance, he had managed to pull me into the center of the floor without me realizing. 

He smirked at me and I leaned in to whisper into his ear. “Sly fox.”  

His hand that supported my weight on my ass was a searing heat against me though he wasnt using any of his power. I jumped from his grasp to pull him into a quick bow. I was going to need several more drinks if this was how the night was going to proceed, sly remarks and lingering touches all masked under the influence of alcohol. 

Song after song played and we let eachother lose ourselves in the others' touches and remarks. Fuck it, if this was temporary I was bound and fucking determined to enjoy what attention like this I could get from my mate, even if he didn’t know that little fact he seemed to be enjoying it just as much as I was. Eventually as the night grew later I felt Rhys’s claws against my shields and I greeted him with a grumble for interrupting.

“Heading home, Feyre is starting to miss Nyx. Have fun, but not too much fun. Sorry for earlier I should have stepped in, I know you wouldn’t have let anyone talk about Feyre like that in my absence.” I felt his power rub against my conscience apologetically, it felt sad and remorseful.

“Have a goodnight Rhys, tell Feyre night for me too.” I laughed softly. “Don’t worry Rhys, I'll be good. I wont say it’s okay cause its not and your right but I’ll forgive you brother. I love you, have a goodnight.”

“I will, love you too.” He slipped out of my thoughts with an affectionate caress and my shields slid back into place.

As I returned my attention to Eris he was pouting, brows furrowed as he looked into my eyes. “What’s wrong Eris?” 

He let out a huff like a child throwing a tantrum. “Tell Rhys to leave you alone, it's us time.” 

I smiled and wanted to laugh at his childish behavior but bit it back as I smoothed out his hair. “Don’t worry you poor thing, he's gone now, he was just apologizing and saying good night.”

He pouted further when I called him a poor thing and it made me smile softly, a warmth blooming in my chest, but once he noticed my full attention was back on him he perked up. We danced for a while longer till the alcohol seemed to lessen from his system and he deflated as he held me close. 

“I have to go back to Autumn soon.” He sighed, dropping his forehead to my shoulder. 

I couldn’t stand seeing him upset. “Welcome back to the land of the coherent.” I joked trying to cheer him up and I felt him smile against me.

“Thank you, I mean it. You always put me first and I’ll never be able to repay you for all of it.” He mumbled into my shoulder.

I rubbed at his shoulders as he leaned against me for a moment before I began pulling him off the dance floor. “I gotta close out our tab but then we can go relax for a bit before you have to leave, okay?”

He nodded, eyes not glimmering nearly as much as they had been and my heart ached for him. I pulled him with me to the bar, the tender busy making drinks told us it would be a minute before he could get to us. Eris bid his time wrapping his arms around my waist and buried his face in between my shoulders. I held his hands that were firmly clasped around me with one of mine as I finally closed our tab out. He growled under his breath when I made him release me so we could leave the bar and I swatted his hand softly with a giggle. 

“You big teddy bear, we do have to leave the bar you know? You wanna go to the house of the wind? Or I actually share an apartment with Lucien in the city we can go there?” I crooned at him and felt him giggle into my shoulder.

“-partment” He cut himself off as he mumbled into my back.

“Wanna winnow or walk?” I rubbed at his forearm softly connecting the freckles that littered his skin.

“Walk, I don't know if I can winnow without getting sick.” He looked up from my shoulder, only his eyes showing over my shoulder. The gold and orange flecks in his amber eyes illuminated by the faelight signs behind the bar advertising the different brands they carried.

My breath caught in my throat as I entwined my hand with his and led him from the bar. He grumbled under his breath as I stepped out of his grasp. “I was comfy.”

I had to fight a giggle. “And I promise you, you can be comfy again when we get to the apartment.” 

He mumbled a fine and moved to step in front of me so he could hold the door open for me to pass through. “Fine. I guess that's an acceptable promise then.”

I smiled up at him as I passed and turned around to offer my hand out to him again. A smile crept onto his face but exhaustion was present in his eyes as he entangled his hand in mine. 

The walk to the apartment was slow, purposely though, so Eris could postpone having to put that mask back on and return to his court. It would probably be a week till I saw him again, a week for him that would be full of having to strategically put on a mask around his fathers court till he could replace them and build it the way he wanted to.

I felt a tug on my hand as Eris stopped to look out at the mountaintops, where a single shooting star fell and disappeared behind them. 

He looked over at me and a soft barely there smile graced his features. “You make a wish?” 

I would only ever wish for one thing, felt like  if I asked for more then it would be too greedy of me, especially when the mother and the cauldron couldn't even grant me my single wish. 

I nodded in response and the softest smile graced his features and his entire body seemed to relax. “So did I.”

I wanted to ask what he wished for but knew there was the superstition about if you told what your wish was that it wouldn’t come true, so I left the question unasked. He took a step back to my side and motioned to the sidewalk ahead of us.

“Ready whenever you are.” He looked down on me and the shop lights caught his eyes making them flicker like fire.

Fuck I wanted to kiss him here and now, but if I did I put everything on the table. I couldn’t lose this so I opted to push the feeling down and it felt like I was going to suffocate as I pulled him towards the apartment again. The rest of the walk was quiet Eris falling into line beside me. Once we made it to the apartment I led him up the stairs to see no lights on, Lucien must still be out then I reasoned. 

I pushed the door open, the wards clicking to life and unlocking at my presence. Inside was decorated in a mix of autumn and night colors, mine and Lucien’s safe haven here. The couch was large enough to fit both me, Lucien and one other person, the wood frame was a dark almost black color and the fabric that lined it a deep reddish orange that had reminded me of eris’s hair when we picked it out. A large blanket made of fur was thrown across the back of it, in case me or Lucien passed out there, on one of the 2 throw pillows it came with. Lucien had picked out a reading chair that was a deep emerald green that he’d tucked into a corner by a bookshelf, I knew he picked the color because it reminded him of Tamlin and the Spring Court but said nothing to him. He had a similar blanket to the one on the couch folded on the ottoman that matched the chair, the novel Lucien had been reading before he left for his mission sat bookmarked on top of the blanket. 

Plants and candles littered the space, nicknacks reminiscent of Spring and autumn sat on nearly every shelf.  A small coffee table separated the couch from the fireplace, on it my own books sat, one a precursor to the one Lucien had been reading and the other a gift from my father when I was younger that talked about constellations and astronomy. As I led Eris inside I could see his eyes sparkle and watched his shoulders completely deflate as he stepped over the boundary, I closed the door behind him and the wards locked into place again. 

Eris looked around a second before he found himself standing in front of the fireplace. He squatted down and sparked the fire to life before he stood back up and spotted a small wooden carved figure of a fox sitting regally, it had scratches and tiny dents in the soft wood but it was after all over 500 years old. Eris picked it up and turned it over, his eyes found mine and he looked like he was going to start crying.

“You still have this?” His voice cracked. Fuck.

I nodded. “Of course I do, it was the first gift you ever gave me.”

He had carved that fox for me by the edge of the pond the next time we had visited, it had become our regular spot to go when our fathers were meeting.

He set it back into its spot and wiped his eyes where tears had begun to bubble. I moved to sit on the couch and he took a few shaky steps forward before he dropped to his knees and buried his face in my lap, tears spilling from his eyes. Fuck this was so similar to the day he had been told he was to be engaged to Mor. 

I entwined my fingers in his hair, trying to sooth him softly but my own tears were beginning to line my eyes. We sat and he cried in my lap for an hour before he began falling asleep where he sat on the floor with his head on my knees. I couldn’t begin to comprehend why me still having that fox caused him to break like that, I wanted to ask but knew if I pried it would probably cause more pain. Somewhere the voice in my head answered me with the thought “because it shows you actually care. That you've always been there and always will be.”

I noticed his breathing had slowed, only catching here or there and I moved a stray hair behind his ear and he looked up at me, his sorrow filled eyes finding mine.

“You aren’t going back tonight, are you? It's awfully late and I wouldn’t want you to get sick from winnowing.” My voice was barely audible but he shook his head and sniffled softly.

“Then let's go get you into some comfy clothes, yeah?” He nodded and leaned back onto his knees to let me stand.

As I stood I ran my fingers through his hair and he closed his eyes to lean into my touch. Mother save me, even after crying for so long he still managed to look so pretty. I extended my hand out to him and he placed his in mine gently, as he stood his knees popped and he cringed; he had spared them no mercy with the force he collapsed onto them with earlier.

I led him to Lucien’s room, the two had to be a similar size I gathered based on what it looked like when they stood beside each other earlier. An old wooden dresser was tucked into the corner of the younger male’s room and I led eris to sit on the bed as I scrounged through the drawers till I found a pair of sleep pants. I pulled a loose white sleep shirt from the closet and passed them to Eris. 

“Go ahead and change, I’m going to slip into some comfy clothes of my own. My rooms right across the hall, when you are done just head to the living room. I’ll make us some tea and we can relax. Okay?” he just nodded as he looked at the clothes and I slipped out of the room, closing the door and stepping into my own room. 

I pulled a wine, almost maroon color set of satin pajama set, a tank top and pair of shorts, from my own dresser; quick to change into them I wrapped a matching sleep robe over my shoulders and slipped back out into the hallway. I could see Eris’s shadow on the wall of the hallway, the events of the day catching up to me as I processed everything now that I finally had a moment to breathe softly. I stepped into the kitchen, making us a pot of chamomile tea, drizzling the slightest bit of honey into our cups. 

Eris looked at me with the saddest smile as I handed him the cup and he took a sip of it. I put my own cup on the coffee table Eris following suit as he swallowed; he scooted a few inches down before he laid down on the couch, his head on my lap. My fingers found his hair as I watched the fire flicker in the hearth, he had one hand resting right above my knee which he clung to me with as if I would be ripped from his grasp. 

After a few minutes his breathing became shallow and I looked down at his sleeping face. He finally looked relaxed, I reached above him to pull the fur blanket onto his frame, and began humming a soft lullaby my father would sing to me when I was upset. 

I must have fallen asleep myself, because next thing I know I was woken up by the wards unlocking. As the door was pushed open Lucien stilled in the doorway, eyes wide like he had walked in on something he shouldn’t have. He settled after a second and shut the door behind him softly, wards clicking locked.

“I thought he was going back tonight?” Lucien raised a brow in question.

“He was originally. I offered to bring him back here to relax before he had to go back…” I trailed off

“But?” Lucien brought our cups to the kitchen, sitting them softly in the sink with a clink.

“When we got back, he spotted the little fox he carved me and broke down crying. I mean he was fully on his knees crying into my lap Luci.” I sighed and tucked a stray hair away from Eris’s face.

Lucien hummed in acknowledgement, quickly washing the cups and putting them away. “You know why?”

“No. He didn't say anything once he stopped crying.” I mumbled softly watching the way Eris’s features softened as I stroked his hair back.

Lucien stalked across the living room barely making a sound, besides a creak of a floor board. Leaning back and kicking his feet up onto the ottoman, he threw the blanket over his legs and sat the book on his lap.

“Its because he has realized that after all this time, you still genuinely care about him. That you have never once had a thing against him, never once thought him the terrible male everyone else does. That you still care, always have and always will.” Lucien sighed before he continued. “After all they said tonight, I think it got to him. When we went to the bathroom, he said something that got to me even. It didn’t make sense to me till now.”

I looked up at Lucien who had his head leaned back and was staring at the ceiling. “What did he say?”

His amber eye found mine, something serious in them. “I barely caught it under his breath, probably shouldn’t have even heard it. But he said ‘she's why i’m doing this, she’s why I’ve got to be better, she’s why.’ He was practically chanting it under his breath. I think Azriel’s words got in his head, I know he struggled with feeling he was enough of a good male to still call you his friend. Our father’s abuse broke how he views himself, so under that mask he wears opinions to get to him when it's. It’s a lot for him, it gets to him.”

I nodded, felt the tears line my eyes again but Lucien caught me off before I could say anything. “So when he saw that one little figure, it might be silly to you to see him cry over it but it was proof that even to one person, one person he cares for more than the Prythian itself, that he is none of those things and that someone actually cares, shattered him. Trust me when I say this hun, but he would raze all the courts to the ground if something happened to you, so yeah your opinion of him matters more than anything to him.”

Tears ran down my face slowly. “But why?”

“Why what?”Lucien half smiled.

“Why do I matter so much” I sniffled

“Honestly, I don't know, just do. If I had to guess it's because you have been there since the beginning, since before his life went to shit.” Lucien hummed. “Now stop crying or you’ll wake him up, wipe your cheeks off.”

I wiped my face and nodded quickly. “Can I ask something?” Lucien mused.

I nodded. “Yeah?”

“You emphasized the fact that he was on his knees. Like you had seen it before, what happened last time that made you realize how important the reason for crying was to him, whatever it was?” He returned his gaze to the ceiling.

“It was the woods after he was informed about his engagement to Mor…” I mumbled and looked down to watch how Eris’s fingers clung to my leg. 

“Oh.” Lucien hissed.

“He snuck out a bottle of alcohol and we ran off to our spot in the woods. He broke down in my arms, we broke down and cried together.” I sighed “He begged me to not leave him alone in the world.” 

Lucien sat up fairly quickly. “He.. He begged you?” Lucien’s eyes both found purchase on me. “He thought you would leave him and he begged you to stay?”

I nodded. “He begged and apologized and we both cried harder than I thought was possible. He asked if I hated him Lucien.” The younger male sucked in the sharp breath.

“What did you say to him?” The redhead murmured to me like it was almost forbidden to say it out loud.

“I promised him that I never have, never could, and never will.” I brushed Eris’s hair out of his face again and he smiled in his sleep and purred against my thigh.

Lucien’s eyes widened as if he realized something that had eluded him for years. “You made a deal with him that you would never be able to hate him… You wouldn't have made that deal unless you knew it couldn’t be broken no matter what. Your mates aren’t you?” 

I nodded and Lucien wiped his face with your hands. “He doesn't know does he?” 

I shook my head again. “No he doesn't” 

Lucien hissed under his breath. “Oh now you two have most definitely worked yourselves into a mess.”

I furrowed my brows. “What do you mean?”

“He loves you, I know that much. For you to matter that much to him he has too. He chose you for this whole fake dating thing for a reason then” Lucien mumbled. 

I stilled and cut him off. “He said he chose me because I was the first female that came to mind that he trusted enough to ask to do this.” I hissed.

“The first female,” Lucien hissed back, “Because he is in love with you.”

We both sighed loudly and Lucien turned to me with a soft look in his eyes. “Just don’t let him burn himself out is all I ask. He’s the only other good member of my family, snuck me out to Spring Court, warned me about what they were going to do to Jes.”

I nodded and he stood. “I'm going to go take a bath, have a good night, I’ll see you both in the morning.”

Jesminda came up, after all these years it was still a sore spot for him. Especially after he had seen Elain hanging on Azriel, I was just surprised he brought it up himself. Showed how much Eris truly meant to him, made sense why he cared so much but his wording confused me. 

“What do you mean by ‘Don’t let him burn himself out?’ Lucien?” I furrowed my brows in confusion. 

Lucien stilled in the archway of the hall, his back still to me as he looked over his shoulder. “I mean he is willing to play with as much fire as it takes to stay close to you even if he burns out in the process. Don’t let him burn out, keep his spark ignited, fan it into a raging forest fire. We both know the capability he has to become one of the best males there is, we both know the only reason he has to do that now is you. He is reforming Autumn for you it seems like. Keep that spark fanned, strike out whoever wants to snuff it. The only thing keeping him burning is you.” Lucien’s mind was racing as he spoke but mine was equally so. 

He turned and looked me dead in the eyes, a fire raged deep within them. “Promise me, make a deal with me here and now.”

“What?” I was taken off guard by his tone of voice.

He strode over to me with his hand extended. “Let's make a deal here and now that you will protect him, that you won't let him burn out or let anything bad ever happen to him again. That you’ll chase his terrible thoughts away, just like you did tonight, whenever they become unbearable for him.” 

I looked back down at his hand, then back up into his amber and metal eyes. I placed my hand firmly in his. “It's a deal.”

I didn’t want anything from Lucien in exchange, knew we both wanted the same thing here, for Eris to be happy. I knew what my purpose was the second I felt the sting of a new bargain tattoo on my upper right arm. As I pulled back from Lucien and looked to the spot i had felt the sting, I knew that no matter how long it was going to take even if we got into a terrible argument after this arrangement, that I would wait for Eris and be there to chase his fears away, knew the second my eyes locked on the tattoo that perfectly mirrored the wooden fox Eris carved for me all those years ago.  In the same spot on Lucien’s shoulder was a constellation in deep red ink.  

Lucien smiled at me and returned to the archway calling over his shoulder before he disappeared with a smirk. “Goodnight Sister.”

It felt like my body absorbed all the heat it could from Eris and pushed it right into my face, my heart racing and an ache settled in my chest that was only soothed by Eris’s fingers clinging slightly tighter to me. I settled taking the second throw pillow and putting it behind my head, the least Lucien could have done was give me his blanket before he left, Fuck. 

Taglist:

@stained-glass-eyes0708

@acourtofbatboydreams

@abysshaven

@wallacewillow0773638

[littlest-w01f]

Papillon

Eris x Lesser Fae!OC (Celastrina)

ERIS MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: During one of his hunts, Eris comes across a mythical lesser fae, he keeps coming back for her as she is way too happy to befriend the lonely high fae.

Cw: Hunting for leisure

A/N: This is a pure fluff series cause this got too angsty

part one

The forest was silent, not an insect in sight, it was the time when most of them hid, the time of hunting for the High Fae, the creatures of the forest were in tune with the hunting, knowing where to hide to not be found, what most of them had hoped would bore the High Fae the death only urged them to go deeper into the forest to hunt them down.

Eris drew his bow sharp, hands and eyes trained on a doe a few meters away, he kept himself steady, exhaling softly to not startle the creature. He'd been hunting for hours, following a trail that led to the majestic doe, the doe's skin looked like it was made of gold, humming with magic, its eyes black and a grace with which it ran that couldn't be found in many others. Eris had shot an arrow at it earlier, but the doe had managed to evade it with a jump unnatural for an ordinary deer.

He was drawing closer to the Spring Court border, he'd have to keep away from that place if he didn't want the High Lord to write a rather angry letter to his father to make sure he was kept in check, Eris rolled his eyes at the thought, yes, he was young but it didn't mean a High Lord could just rat him out to his father.

He tilted his head to the side as he watched a butterfly land on the doe's snout, with a little more focus, he saw the fairy, eyes wide at the creature. Fairies were harder to find than most creatures, even if they lived in a hive like the winged insects they could turn themselves into, the little things even harder to shoot with an arrow.

A few hunters had seen fairies, but even fewer had seen them in their full size. They were known to camouflage with the insects, the one Eris was looking at would be invisible with a few butterflies by her side. None of those hunters were believed, after all, fairies were what children's storybooks had, a sad little fae could find himself being befriended by a fairy, and everyone else would be jealous of that fae for their ability to draw out a fairy, to have a heart pure enough that one would be willing to befriend them. Eris had nearly rolled his eyes at that while his mother read him the tales.

Not many had believed that there were fairies in the Autumn woods, most of them were known to wander in Spring, till one of the hunters that now Beron held to a high respect, a hard thing to earn of Eris' father, had brought to their court wings that couldn't have belonged to a normal lesser fae.

The doe soon began to run, taking Eris' focus, but it was drawn back to the fairy almost instantly, the butterfly scenting of magic as she hid the tracks of the doe that Eris had followed. Eris looked back to where he had come from, without the tracks or trail, it would take him hours to figure out how to return to the forest house.

"You know, it's a horrible thing to hunt for fun."

A soft voice called to him, he spun on his heel to come across the fairy, now grown, still shorter than him but more of a High Fae's height, supporting large butterfly wings on her back, wings both of them knew people would die to have, to hunt down.

Eris did a double take, then another one, before he earned his footing back, there was something about her he hadn't seen anywhere else, "Ah, so you're one of these fairies that go around ruining people's hunts?" He'd meant to say the phrase as an insult but the way she smiled he wasn't sure he had.

"Yeah, I am." She was smiling like he was throwing the best of compliments at her. "Mama and Papa said a couple High Fae would be out for us..." She trailed off, marvelling at the sight of Eris, taking in his face, how it was different from hers, where Eris had sharp features, hers were soft, her ears were rounding, his pointed, his hair was burning red like a bright fire while hers matched the multicolours of her wings. "I've never seen a High Fae before."

Eris caught her eye, giving her one of his warmest smiles, or trying to, his thoughts should've been on her wings and how much they would earn him glory if they were the product of his hunt, but somehow they weren't. "Well, I've never met a fairy such as yourself, and may I say, you are exquisite." He took a step towards her and like clockwork, she took one back, "Not the trusting kind are you?" He chuckles.

"Your smile isn't pure." The fairy in front of him tucked her wings behind her tight, her warm expression turning into a frown.

Eris held in a scoff, of course, she could feel the 'purity' of his emotions. "You wound me, darling," Eris placed his hand over his heart, faking a grimace.

The fairy giggled at his grimace, "That didn't actually hurt you, did it?"

"Clearly," Eris cracked a real smile at the sound of her laugh.

"See, that's a proper smile," She mirrored his look.

"Fine, you have me." Eris leaned against a tree bark, "I've never seen a fairy before, I'm... Mesmerised." Eris was honest, there was something about her that pulled him to her.

"Most people are," The fairy smiled. "It's a natural reaction."

"I'm Eris Vanserra, heir of Autumn," The male dipped his chin in the form of a formal bow, "I'm a pleasure to make your aquantance."

"Celastina, my lord." Celastrina gave him a curt bow, one leg crossed behind the other.

"Quite a pretty name, butterfly." Eris hummed, taking in her bow, "And quite a perfect form for a bow from someone who lives in the deep woods."

"I'm a lesser fae, my lord." Celastrine stood up, smiling, "Not a savage."

"Of course, forgive me for asuming-" Eris paused, picking up the sound of footsteps and the growls of hounds approaching them. "Hunters are approaching us, you should hide."

Celastrina's eyes snapped to the rustling from deeper into the woods, "Are those smoke hounds I hear?" Eris was sure he had hit his head somewhere because the fairy smiled as she spoke, her doe eyes wide from excitement.

"Yes, butterfly, hounds, not damn puppies." Eris scoffed at her reaction, "They are used to hunt your kind. Run." He didn't know why he wanted her to escape, he could've taken her himself, but instead he stressed, "Run." If she would found with him he would have hell to pay with Beron for making conversation with a lesser fae of all things.

Celastrina in an instant turned small, her form nearly the size of his pinky and shot up into the tree, in a second Eris couldn't place where she had gone and he exhaled a deep breath to calm himself before the hunters found him.

{General Taglist- @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot @dee-writes-smut @adalia-jaycee @anarchiii @alwayshave}

{Eris Taglist- @fxckmiup @slut4acotar @secret-third-thing @shadowsingers-mate}

[killerkatsmeow]

Headcanon: Bruce adopting a civilian teenage girl.

I always thought she’d have ties to Bruce one way or another - either through her single-parent household (her mom works for him) or she has an internship at Wayne Enterprises. In the case of an internship, she’s eager to work and learn but still manages to keep things young and fun. 

Loves Alfred because wow, its her first time meeting a Brit and what kind of name is Pennyworth? I personally feel like she'd be closest to Alfred, she's most comfortable with him. Say she gets arrested/stuck at GCPD...she is NOT calling Bruce for help. She's calling Alfred and begging him to come get her and to not tell Bruce. She wakes up early to help Alfred in the kitchen, she's following him around and pestering him with questions. As an inside joke, she's bringing him a penny and some other thoughtful gift for his birthday. Because...Pennyworth.

Oh, she REFUSES to go to Gotham Academy, she is a P.S. 181 girl through and through. Why would she choose to be around those stuffy, asshole, rich kids anyway? She has all she needs at her public school: all of her friends are there, she's Cheer/Dance Capitan, she receives every party invite known to man...what could Gotham Academy possibly give her besides a complex and a reason to see a psychotherapist? Yeah, no fucking thanks. No fucking way.

The Wayne Manor... She remembers the drive up there and how she was...floored by how nice and vintage and regal and almost scary the place looked. So expensive, how could anyone feel like it was home. She's greeted outside by Bruce and Damian - Bruce wears a smile, Damian is indifferent. She is lost for words pretty often - the tall ceilings, the intimidating portraits...it's all so fancy and a far cry from the 2 bedroom apartment she shared with her mother.

Dinner that night was grand and boasted many guests - family and close friends, Bruce said. She meets Dick, he's charming, polite, and sinewy. Everyone is Gotham knows him, his tragic backstory. Then there's Barbara: she's kind, seems smart but maybe it's the glasses, and uses elbow crutches. Then there's Duke - he seems nervous but is happy to make her acquaintance. Tim has dark under eye circle, yawns a bit, but introduces himself and listens to her patiently. There's another girl who is the most excited at the table to meet her - her name is Stephanie. She smiles, shakes her hand at the speed of a humming bird, and asks a million questions. She only stops when Cass places a hand on her shoulder, she doesn't speak much (a fact Damian explains beforehand) but shakes her hand no less.

It's not until the following week that she meets Jason. She's lounging by the pool, magazine in hand as music plays from her bluetooth speaker when she sees him. He's flanked by the boys as they walk towards the basketball court, their competitive chatter fills the air. He's big - muscular and the tallest of the bunch. He spares a glance over his shoulder and she feels like her heart just stopped. He's beautiful. His eyes are narrowed and kinda intimidating, a shiny blue-green color. He doesn't look back again as they head to the court but just the one glance was enough for her.

Her friends at school know about Jason, they wanna see him for themselves. She begs and begs Bruce to allow her to have a sleepover with her 2 closest friends and after some convincing, he agrees. The girls spend most of the night swimming, baking cookies once Alfred retires from the kitchen, singing karaoke in her generously sized room. The highlight of the night comes when Jason come riding in on his motorcycle - they watch from the window as he dismounts. Strong hands pull his helmet off his head, broad sexy shoulder flex as he stows it away. The girls giggle and coo, mouths drop as they watch the big man walk towards the door. They're safe looking at him from this window they think, flirty compliments can't reach his ears from where they stood but suddenly he looks up, making full eye contact with her again. The girls drop down out of sight, gasping and giggling because of course, they'd get caught ogling.

The girls make comments about her having a "rich dad" when she comes to school with nicer shoes, an expensive backpack, etc. She hates it. "Bruce is not my father." She'll roll her eyes. Her friends ask if he'll adopt her, a topic she'd rather not broach. "No way, how can I marry Jason if we're related?" It's a joke she only...somewhat means and it makes her friends laugh and it practically erases the idea of her getting adopted from the conversation.

She has no clue about the Batfam - the whole vigilante thing. She's clueless but it's hard to believe. She makes these comments that has the fam clenching their holes in shock/fear/anticipation. "It's not like Batman's gonna save me" when she gets herself into a jam or is in need of intervention with schoolwork she cares none for. "Aww, you two are like Batman and Robin." Mockingly when the boys team up for a lame ass burn or zinger against her. "Red Hood is hotter than Nightwing." Overheard as she walks around the house, gabbing to her friends. There's been some close calls like her walking past the secret entrance to the cave right when Bruce, Damian, or Alfred step in or out of it. She doesn't understand the silence her jokes are met with sometimes but she just assumes money makes you a bit boring and stuffy. Just look at Damian.

She loves to read and she spends hours in the library though if Damian is in there, she avoids the place. One day, she has a coffee in hand and she's excited to sit on the plush chaise by the ladder and read that first edition Virginia Woolf she found. She opens the French doors, her feet moving forward before she stops in her tracks. There's Damian, legs crossed with a book splayed in his lap. She sighs, groaning inwardly because Virginia will have to wait. She turns to leave when Damian calls out to her. "You don't have to go." His voice still sounds so condescending but his face, when she turns to see him, his face holds none of that. He seems nice and honest. "You're not the most...welcoming presence in the house." She says, not moving from her spot. Damian sighs, closing his book and rising from his seat on a the davenport. "I know. But..." He doesn't finish the sentence, only waves around the library before walking past her. That was the start of a fairly interesting friendship for the two of them.

She takes the time to learn some ASL because she's under the impression that Cass is deaf or mute. She engages with Cass as much as she can, showing off the new words and phrases she's learned. She gets to be fairly good at it that she even considers taking the interpreter certification exam. So, you can imagine her surprise when, while on a hike, Cass responds to her signing with a full-fledged sentence. Then another one. And another one. Surprise isn't the word, neither is shock. But once she settles into the truth, the two break out into a fit of laughter.

Sneaking out of Wayne Manor is a bitch but she loves to do it! Sometimes she's grounded - the why is ever-changing - and sometimes, she knows Bruce and Alfred would hate her late night partying. She's opening her window and shimmying down a trellis as her friends wait outside of the manor gate off to the side and just out of sight. She hates hopping the gate, her hands are too precious for the scraping so for a few days she's been pushing a ladder closer and closer to the sweet spot of the gate. Sometimes she comes back to Bruce outside the front door in a robe with knitted brows and a set jaw, other times it's a silent treatment a t breakfast. She feels guilty sometimes, but mostly only when's he's caught. She wonders how they know, tells her friends there has to be a security camera. If only she knew.

[newtonsheffield]

Okay but how insane does Kate go when she wins her first Olympic medal in France on a damn clay court?

Clay courts and Kate Sharma are not a match made in heaven. She hates everything about it right down to the fact that it makes her shoes dirty.

She does love one thing about it though: She convinced Anthony to enter mixed doubles with her.

“Kate, babe, we wouldn’t qualify. I haven’t played pro tennis in nearly a year.”

“It’ll be fun.” Kate hummed in his ear as they lay in bed. “We’ll be great.”

“I haven’t even played at Roland Garros for at least five years.”

“We can galivant around Paris. See if we can break one of those cardboard beds. I want to share this with you.”

Anthony groaned, “Damnit! How do you always convince me to do this shit?”

“I’m very pretty.” Kate hummed, “I think it helps.”

Two days later it’s announced that Anthony Bridgerton and Kate Sharma have formed a mixed doubles team to qualify for the Olympics. Team GB is desperately hoping they can do it because god, what a story. Kate Sharma and Anthony Bridgerton. Tom Dorset should be the king of British tennis, and he is really, but Anthony Bridgerton is such journeyman. It’ll be the cherry on top of his career and his relationship ship with Kate Sharma is free advertising. They’d been hoping Kate might relent and do doubles with Tom Dorset but Anthony Bridgerton? Even better.

Everyone expects Kate to win Women’s singles. She’s won every slam so far this year, her form’s never been better. This is her chance to win a gold medal and Kate would be feeling the pressure. And on her least favourite surface as well. But it’s hard to feel it with Anthony beside her. With him cheering her on in the stands. It’s exhausting, managing singles and doubles but doubles doesn’t feel like work.

It feels like her and Anthony messing around at home. She loves seeing the joy on his face when he pops up with an overhead smash that has their opponents ducking out of the way. She loves sitting beside him at the changeover, Team GB written on his chest in their matching uniforms. She loves whistling when Anthony squats in front of her as the crowd roars with laughter and Anthony rolls his eyes.

“I know this is really serious; but this is actually a lot of fucking fun this year.”

For both of them the Olympics haven’t been a happy hunting ground previously, and in a way clay courts have been even less so, but this feels almost easy. The crowd doesn’t feel like pressure. Their families sat in the box together cheering with the rest of the crowd, it finally feels like Kate can feed off the energy.

“You can just tell me I was right.” Kate kissed him quickly as she adjusted her hat, chuckling as the crowd cheered for it.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Anthony sighed, standing up, shielding her from the sun. “Let’s go get into the final.”

“Ah he wants his gold medal, now! After I had to drag him here.”

It feels almost surreal, standing on the top step of the podium with Anthony’s arm around her waist with medals hanging around their necks as the national Anthem plays. Feels even more surreal when Anthony leans down as kisses her with a chuckle on his lips.

“I love you.”

Kate nodded, hugging him tightly, “Love you too.”

“I’m going to marry you.”

Kate could hardly breathe “Ask me properly then.”

“Soon.”

Kate does win the gold in the Singles as well as it turns out. The very next day she’s back on the top step of the podium and three gold medals hang in their house but her favourite one is the one they won together. The one that brought them both so much joy.

[lcandothisallday]

Court Side Butterflies Part 1 - Jack Harlow x f!reader

this actually SUCKS but oh well. Might make a part 2

photo credit to @a-moment-captured !!

You walk under the tunnel with your best friend, making your way through the swarms of people to get your court side seat. Your best friend was dating a player on the Boston Celtics—Jaylen Brown to be exact, which warranted the both of you sitting court side to support her man.

With it being a game 7, you knew this game was going to be tense and you only hoped the Celtics would win so that your best friend could celebrate with her boyfriend. If it were up to you, you didn’t really care who wins—only wishing for an exciting game.

“I’m gonna go speak with Jaylen real quick,” your friend mused. “Wish him luck and all.” You nod and smirk at your love sick friend. “Wish him luck for me too!” you exclaim as she walks away.

There was still about 15 minutes until the game officially started so you decided to take your seat and chill on your phone in the meantime.

While you’re scrolling through Instagram, two quite large people walk in front of you—one of them nearly stepping on your toes.

“Oh sweetheart I’m sorry!” the man exclaimed. “Did I step on your toes?—”

You look up at the bald man and shake your head with a laugh. “No no you’re good,” you reassure. Your line of sight trails to see the man going to take a seat next to him, your eyes going slightly wide when you realize it was Jack Harlow.

Jack’s dad sits next you, prompting him to make small talk. “Routing for the Celtics?”

“Yeah,” you confirm with a nod. “Here with my best friend—she’s dating Jaylen so I guess I gotta be supportive of the both of them,” you joke.

“Oh—are you not a basketball fan?” he chuckled in question.

“I am! It’s just been a long day,” you laugh.

“Jeez Dad—leave the poor girl alone. Probably doesn’t wanna talk to you all night,” Jack teased, causing his Dad to scoff playfully and for you to giggle.

“Jack,” he introduced, extending his hand towards you. “Y/N. It’s nice to meet you…and your Dad ” you reply with a smile.

Jack’s Dad smiled at the interaction before he leaned in close to his son, his voice low. “Wanna sit next to her?” he whispered in question. “She’s pretty—maybe you could get her number,” he mused, playing wingman.

Jack’s face heated up, his cheeks blushing with a tint of red. “Uh…not now. It’ll be too obvious. Plus she’s a model…to many eyes on us,” he whispered back a bit bashfully. He couldn’t deny that you were indeed beautiful and he would’ve loved the opportunity to talk more and get to know you— but there were simply too many eyes and cameras around to risk any annoying rumours that frankly he didn’t wanna deal with.

Soon enough, your friend makes her way back to her seat, leaning in close with a knowing smirk. “Jayson asked about youuuu,” she hummed matter of factly which Jack couldn’t help but overhear. While he loved Jayson and considered him a friend, the jealousy still bubbled within him. He knew it wasn't warranted--after all he barely knew you but it didn't stop his feelings.

He was still intrigued to hear your response so he sat quietly, his dad also unknowingly doing the same.

You scoff at your friends remark. “He's too hot and cold with me...until he wants to commit then I'm not doing anything," you shrug.

You friend groaned, “oh come on y/n! He likes you—you like him—the sex is great apparently—”

“Oh my god!” you interrupt exclaiming. “Shut up! Just please shut up,” you groan, shaking your head in embarrassment. “That’s not something you can say in public with media and fans everywhere,” you mutter lowly.

Your friend shrugged. “I just want you to be happy.”

“How about I worry about that and you worry about cheering on your boyfriend,” you deadpan.

“Suite yourself.”

You sit quietly for the remainder of quarter, your arms crossed as you stared ahead with a stoic expression. You loved your friend but she can be a bit much at times.

When half time finally came around, your friend got up to comfort Jaylen for being down a couple points. “You coming?”she asked, more so wanting to know if you were going to talk to Jayson.

“Nah—I’m gonna stick here.” She simply nodded and headed off.

“Your friend seems like a handful,” Brian spoke to you with a chuckle, causing Jack’s eyes to widen. “Dad!” he scolded.

You however thought it was funny and began laughing. “She…she really is. I’m sorry you guys had to um…hear that,” you breath out shyly.

Jack licked his lips with a kind smile. “Don’t worry about it…my best friend Urban would’ve said worse,” he mused, trying to lighten the mood.

“Ok good to know it’s a universal experience,” you hum.

Brian smirked. “Hm—why don’t you two kiddos go grab us some drinks?” he suggested. Jack’s head snapped towards his dad, glaring at him while his cheeks turned red.

“Yeah why not,” you replied.

You and Jack walked side by side to the concession stand, him walking with his hands awkwardly in his pocket. “Your dad is very nice,” you began.

Jack scoffed playfully. “Nah—he’s tryna play matchmaker,” he laughed, shaking his head shamefully.

“Ohhhh I see,” you hum teasingly. “I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t working,” you confess, your cheeks burning up.

Jack grinned. “Damn—might need to have him work his magic more often,” he hummed.

You scoff in feigned offence. “Only if it works in my favour. Wouldn’t want him helping you get other girls.”

“Oh so you’re territorial huh?”

“What if I am?” you taunt in question.

“Fuuuck,” he laughed, his dimple appearing as he ran his hand through his hair. “I cant lie—that’s hot.”

“So tell me…if I ask you out,” Jack began nervously as he scratching the back of his neck. “Am I gonna have to worry about Jayson and his ‘great sex?’”

“I’m not seeing him anymore.”

Jack shook his head. “That’s not what you implied back there…if he committed…are you gonna commit back?” he asked, reiterating what you said to your friend earlier.

You sighed. “I’m sure I could ask you the same thing—with all the girls around you,” you point out.

“Nahhh—don’t do that. Don’t gaslight me and twist it back on me,” Jack laughed while shaking his head. “When you figure it out—I really would love to take you out…maybe even show you what great sex really is,” he smirked.

“Deal.”

[notyourhetloki]

If your requests are open, can I ask for an NSFW angst with a fluffy ending featuring a mean Dom! (who gets soft in the end) Daemon x poc (or ambiguous appearance) fem reader? They are married/in a romantic relationship, and she is usually radiant and open about her feelings (she has a sunshine personality), but since she was attacked (not SA), she has become emotionally withdrawn and very closed off. She can't talk about what happened or express her feelings about it (and can't cry, so everything she feels keeps accumulating). Daemon tries to talk to her, but without success (she avoids the topic or just says she's fine). So, he decides to get something out of her the way he knows how (despite everything that happened, they still connect/understand each other through sex, and it's the moment he gets a glimpse of the 'old reader,' although she withdraws again when it's over). So, he pushes her to the limit, body and mind (like, really crosses the line, but it's consensual). When he brings her to climax, all the pent-up emotions come out, and she finally cries (copiously) in his arms, and he comforts her. With lots of angst (break my heart 🙏🏾), rough sex (the rougher, the better), degradation and praise, orgasm delay and denial, choking, marking, hair-pulling, and aftercare with a conversation. Please?"

body and soul (Daemon x F!Reader)

Reader: she/her (Fem!Reader)

/NSFW Daemon Targaryen x Wife!Reader/

A/N: Hi, anon! I just wanted to say I LOVED your request, but I'm sure I didn't do it justice… I'm not very good at writing angst (so it doesn't have much of it) and it might be a little rushed… I'm so sorry about that, but I hope you like it nonetheless! Also, I made the reader's appearance super ambiguous, I didn't mention hair texture or anything… so yeah… xoxo

Warnings: Use of (Y/N), mentions of violence, rough sex, piv sex (unprotected), a bit of angst (fluffy ending).

Word Count: 2.1k

—

You hadn't been the same since the incident. It bothered you, to know that such a quick moment in your life could bear so many consequences. In a matter of seconds you had a knife on your neck, a man you didn't know throwing accusations at you, threatening you.

Deamon saved you that day, negotiating with the man so he could finally release you. It worked, but Daemon was not kind nor merciful towards him.

It had been a few days since the attack. You looked everywhere around you, paranoid that something was out to get you again. You heard people whispering in the court and wondered if they were plotting against you.

Tears never dared to fall from your eyes, and you couldn't scream... you felt trapped. Your usually happy and bubbly self hid away, your sunshine personality faded in a well of despair.

Every attempt from your husband Daemon to talk to you failed, you said you were fine and the conversation ended there. You could tell he was frustrated, but couldn't bring yourself to do anything about it.

When the night came, you quickly retreated to your chambers. You put on your nightgown and prepared to lay in bed, but Daemon had other plans.

He pulled you towards him, your back touching his chest, smelling your hair and kissing your neck. "How was your day?" He asked.

"Fine." You lied, not able to open up. Fear took hold of you, turned you frail, fragile.

"Of course." Said Daemon with a scoff. "You know lying to me is pointless, right?" The last sentence a mere whisper in your ear.

You thought you had been hiding well enough, but apparently not. Your husband knew you better than anyone, you both had a connection so deep you practically could read each other's minds... you didn't know why you thought lying would work.

"You're not going to fend for yourself?" He continued, kissing your shoulder and humming to himself. "Interesting..."

You wanted to cry, to scream, to finally be able to talk to your husband... but everything felt stuck in your throat. You were paralyzed in fear.

"I'm going to make you speak the truth." A shiver ran down your spine as you knew what was coming. "You will have no other choice but to scream it."

Suddenly Daemon pushed you onto the bed, stealing all air from your lungs. You turned around to lay on your back, watching your husband undress himself.

"Daemon, please..." You pleaded, but to no avail. He just looked at you with dark eyes, giving you a warning. "It will be much worse if you don't behave."

You knew better, so you did your best. He climbed on top of you, ripping your nightgown open as you gasped in surprise. Daemon touched and grabbed your body, kissing and biting while marking your delicate skin.

He kissed you possessively, wild and frantic like an animal. You moaned against his lips and he soon reached for your sex, his digits working in circles for your pleasure.

"Aah, Daemon!" You couldn't help but moan loudly, practically singing his name when you felt that well-known sensation between your legs.

"That's my girl." He watched as you squirmed beneath him, eyes closed in ecstasy while rolling your hips to seek more friction. "Look at you... so eager for me, are you not ashamed of yourself?"

You couldn't stop your movements, just opened your eyes and admired your husband's handsome face and body. When you thought to be close, your hips quickened the pace and Daemon noticed it.

"Wanting to come already?" He teased, and you hummed in response. Clicking his tongue in disapproval, he suddenly stopped his fingers and released you from the friction. "You'll have to earn it."

You whined, protesting his decision. But as soon as you did so, he grabbed your throat and squeezed hard, making you light-headed.

"What was that?" Daemon demanded while you tried to breathe, not daring to make any other sounds. "That's what I thought."

He released you and you choked for air, but soon gasped again when you felt his hands manhandling you into another position. You suddenly found yourself on all fours, feeling his presence right behind you. He rubbed his member against your entrance, coating himself in your slick.

"Hmm, you're ready for me, aren't you?" His voice a deep purr that resonated through your body, making you tremble. "Naughty girl."

Daemon pushed his cock inside you, your walls stretching deliciously as he made his way in. It drove you crazy to have him inside when you were so close to an orgasm, and he wasn't even moving yet.

"Aah... hmm, Daemon..." You whined in anticipation, thrusting your hips once more. He grabbed your waist and squeezed enough to leave bruises, warning you to stop.

"You whore, can't even wait for me to start." He was smiling at himself, enjoying the view. Then, he leisurely started to move his hips, in and out. The pace so achingly slow you pleaded for him to fasten it up. "Oh, you want it faster?" He mocked. "As you wish."

Daemon quickly started to fuck you... hard. His bruising grip on your waist never ceased, his rough thrusts hurt you but in a good way... the pain mixed with pleasure was enough to send you spiraling.

Every thrust hit a special spot inside you, making you cry his name out loud. "Please! Ah, Daemon!"

"Please what?" He demanded, not slowing his rhythm down. The sounds you both made were so obscene that only served to excite you even more, especially when he hit your ass with a loud slap.

You couldn't say it, you needed release but all words seemed to evade you, fear still holding you back from expressing your feelings.

Daemon grew impatient, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling your head back enough so he could growl in your ear. "Did I stutter?"

The sharp pain in your scalp grounded you, leaving you present in the moment. You concentrated on the sensations of his skin on yours, his cock inside you... but all you could do was repeat yourself. "Please, please..."

Daemon suddenly stopped everything he was doing, releasing his grip and retreating himself from you, leaving you alone on the bed. You whined and complained at the loss, calling for him to come back but to no avail.

He then stood beside the bed, signaling for you to go to him. You kneeled on the mattress facing him, eyes watery and hair disheveled. You looked like a mess.

Grabbing your face harshly, Daemon bent down to your level, intimidating you. "What do you want?" He demanded.

Silence. Tears were forming in your eyes but you couldn't shed them, paralyzed by so many emotions. Everything was adding up, and you felt extremely overwhelmed.

A hard slap across your face woke you up slightly, a stinging sensation spreading across your cheek. Daemon was still at eye level, and he observed your shocked expression with great interest.

"Don't make me repeat myself, (y/n)." He looked... menacing. He dominated you with his stance alone, causing you to sweat from nervousness.

"I-I..." You swallowed dry, gathering the words you so needed to say. "I need you..."

He grabbed you by the hair again, holding you in place. "Be more specific."

You just needed some kind of release, that was all you wanted. To be free from all that turmoil in your head... to be rescued. "Help me, Daemon..."

His expression went from menacing to understanding as everything finally clicked for him, reading your pleading eyes like nobody else could. Something in him shifted suddenly and he went back into action.

"Lay on your back." He ordered, you obeyed quickly. Daemon crawled on top of you, biting on your thighs, waist, belly... making his way up.

When he finally reached your lips he ravished you, tasting your tongue on his as he grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head. "Keep them there." He said.

He positioned himself at your entrance again, ready to enter. "You want me inside your cunt again?" Daemon teased you, and you couldn't help but say yes.

Fucking you slowly at first, he concentrated on circling your clit with his thumb and finding a good rhythm for you. You moaned and moaned, your noises were music to his ears and led him to the right amount of pressure he needed to use.

Soon Daemon found a good rhythm, hitting that sweet spot of yours again. He was watching your expressions attentively, interpreting your face for any sign of discomfort.

Moaning and rolling your hips in tandem with his, you opened your eyes and held eye contact with your husband as he pleasured your most sensitive spot. "I'm right here..." He assured.

His words relaxed you, and you felt somewhat safe for the first time since the incident. You still held your hands above your head, grabbing the sheets as you felt heat growing in your core... you were close.

"D-Daemon..." You pleaded for him, and this time he did not stop. He fucked you good while rubbing your clit, still maintaining eye contact.

"You may come now..." He whispered, voice low and steady. "Come for me, (y/n)."

Soon you felt a wave of pleasure taking over your body, the build-up finally turning into a climax. Your sex ached deliciously while you moaned and whined your high away... but Daemon did not stop.

He continued to abuse your clit and hit your spot deep within. It was too much, overstimulating you to the max. "Daemon, I can't! I-I..."

"Be a good girl, (y/n)..." He ordered, hungry eyes examining your begging face. "Give it to me."

A second wave of pleasure washed over you, stronger and greater. Tears pooled in your eyes as you felt your whole body shake in ecstasy, energy running through your skin. You were finally able to scream.

Daemon pulled his cock from inside you and spilled his seed on your belly and chest, groaning while giving it a few good strokes before collapsing by your side.

Energy was still flowing through your body, tingling your skin as you eventually felt tears running down your cheeks. You began to cry, then started to sob... you just couldn't stop.

Daemon immediately noticed and pulled you into his arms, caressing your hair and kissing your forehead. "Shh... I'm here."

Tears just rolled down your face continuously, finally able to let go of all accumulated emotions. You sobbed as you repeated yourself. "I-I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."

"What happened?" His voice soft with affection, but worried nonetheless. "What's wrong, (y/n)?"

Suddenly all your feelings came crashing down on you, and you managed to blurt out words you've been keeping all that time.

"I just don't feel safe anymore! A man tried to kill me and everyone keeps acting like that was normal and they expect me to act normal as well, but I don't feel normal! I feel like everyone's against me..." More tears fell down your eyes as you tried explaining yourself. "I can't take it anymore..."

Daemon lifted your chin up so he could look into your eyes, the understanding expression on his face calmed you down slightly. "I am not against you." He assured, caressing your face. "And I don't expect you to act normal about what happened, I would just like for you to talk to me."

He was right, your husband had the right to know about your problems, but... it just felt difficult to express yourself at that time.

"I thought you wouldn't understand..." You said, and he immediately turned his head sideways in curiosity.

"When was the last time we misunderstood each other?" He defended, lifting your chin so you would look at him. "I know you... body and soul. Do you really think I would ever cast you aside?"

His words made your heart warm, your breathing started to ease and the tears subsided, leaving your face all blushed from the crying.

"Why would I bother you with my paranoias and stupid complaints?" You objected, still holding on to your fears.

"Because you're my wife." Daemon simply added, a clean response that you were not expecting. "All your problems are my problems as well."

Daemon smiled at you, smoothing your skin with his hands. You couldn't help but smile too, finally closing the gap with a chaste kiss. The two of you stayed there, embraced each other while Daemon continued to praise and reassure you, he would be there for you... no matter what.

—

[catscraftsandcommentary]

I need Lambert/Milena in a Shrek AU.

Just imagine with me:

Duke de Roggeven insults a powerful wizard (we all know he would - he'd be lucky if it was only ONE) who then curses his daughters. All three of them.

(ETA: he pissed off Yennefer. Probably insulted her mixed elven heritage and/or her inability to have kids, so she went "alright. Let's see how you feel when YOUR daughters are inhuman and infertile monsters.")

By night, each of them transforms into a different non-human humanoid: Marta is a succubus (all her lust for power and a crown turned into a different kind of lust - and we'll pretend that succubi *can* live without sex, but they feel sick and hungry the whole time), Marika is an elf (still elegant and pretty, but inhuman enough to shock everyone - Marika didn't piss off Yennefer), and Milena is a witcher (Yennefer saw her strength and kindness and went "this suits you.")

Marta, of course, spends the entire time being FURIOUS at being some "sex obsessed half goat! I am the daughter of a DUKE! The ELDEST DAUGHTER! How dare she!" Marika isn't happy, per se, but she privately goes "it could be a LOT worse. I'll take it." Milena actually enjoys her new abilities - she's so strong! Her senses are much sharper! - and the eyes are rather pretty.

After being COMPLETELY HORRIFIED that his daughters (well, mostly Marta) are cursed to become non-humans by night, Duke de Roggeven locks them in a castle guarded by a dragon and then pretends that he's sent them abroad to stay with distant relatives.

Meanwhile, Marta is getting on EVERYONE'S last nerve with her constant bitching, Marika is trying to keep their lifestyle as pleasant as possible, and Milena...

Milena befriends the dragon. She thinks Villentretenmerth is fascinating, and when she learns that the three ladies who showed up to help the sisters are also dragons, she wants to learn as much as they can teach her.

(Marta refuses to acknowledge any of them. "I will not consort with beasts," she sniffs hautily, and locks herself in a private bedroom every night before sunset.)

So! Back in Redania, Duke de Roggeven has convinced everyone that Yennefer's line about "whoever breaks the curse will gain a treasure greater than gold or gems" means that they can gain literal treasure (and/or magical treasure) by rescuing and marrying his daughters, and not - to take an example COMPLETELY at random - their true love as a bride.

(Yes, true love is the cure. Of course it is.)

So the asshole king of Kaedwen hears about the supposed princess and holds a huge tournament - and Lambert shows up because "that fucker dumped a bunch of refugees in our mountains, the fucking bastard. Who does that?!"

Jaskier, being one of the refugees - and also a bard who can sense the potential for a good story - insists on coming with him. They 100% do the "Donkey won't stop singing until Shrek snaps at him to shut up - and then he hums" scene.

About five times.

(Geralt and Eskel either stayed home to help Vesemir manage the refugees or hang around the Kaedweni court to remind the king of his promise - and make sure he doesn't get any even WORSE ideas.)

(Lambert REFUSED to stay in Kaer Morhen when Vesemir was being bossy - "I get enough of him riding my damn ass during fucking winter, NO GODSDAMNED WAY." And his brothers very sensibly refused to let him stay in court longer than absolutely necessary because, uh, they've MET Lambert and they know exactly how badly it would go. So he gets rescue duty by default. At least the princess will be happy to get to Ard Carraigh and away from him. They send Jaskier with him to try to temper some of his, uh, Lambert-ness.)

Anyway! Lambert and Jaskier arrive at the tumbledown castle guarded by a dragon, and Jaskier is immediately like "oh how wonderful! How majestic! Look at that wingspan!" And Lambert is like "...remember how we're here to fight the bastard? We have to GET PAST HIM to rescue whatever noble bint got stuck out here."

Jaskier pouts.

Villentretenmerth finds all this terribly amusing, especially since he recognizes a witcher when he sees one. So he sticks his nose in their camp and asks (rumbles) "what makes you think that even a witcher can defeat the greatest and oldest of dragonkind?"

So Jaskier introduces them - as dramatically and fancily as possible - and states that they are here to rescue the princess.

Milena creeps out from Villentretenmerth's wing. "We are the daughters of the Duke de Roggeven, and there are three of us. I hope you will still take us home?"

Villentretenmerth sighs. This girl. Always getting underfoot. "I will let you take the ladies with you - but you must convince them to leave freely. If they refuse - now or later - I will take them back."

"He sent THREE girls to some remote fucking castle? Fucker. Yeah, I'll take you all. Jask, let's find 'em and get out of here."

So Milena leads them up to the tallest tower where her sisters spend their day. I can't decide if I want Marta to do the whole "sleeping beauty waiting for a kiss" thing (assuming that JASKIER is her princely rescuer and Lambert is just there as a guard.) If she does, she'll get a rude surprise when Lambert shakes her awake and tells her to pack anything she's taking with her, they're LEAVING.

So the guys get the ladies and lead them out - pretending to ignore the hissing and squabbling that said ladies are doing behind the men's backs - and are unhappily surprised AGAIN because not only are their rescuer(s) NOT a prince and his retinue, they don't even have HORSES.

The dragons, of course, are watching this with amusement...and no little relief at getting rid of Miss Complainer the Eldest.

I'm gonna say it takes less than two days for Marta and Lambert to have a truly nasty fight. She wants a horse. A private carriage, really, but she'll SETTLE for a horse. Purebred, obviously. And fashionable new dresses, and BATHS, and food cooked in an actual KITCHEN, and a private bedroom from sundown to sunrise, and...

Lambert is just like "look lady, I don't get any reward until I deliver you, I don't have the coin for any of that, and I wouldn't waste on stupid fucking luxuries if I did."

This does not go over well. At all. There are very angry words shouted about his lack of preparation, decorum, breeding, proper dress...the list is endless.

Lambert gives exactly zero shits.

Milena is watching the fight with interest - she finds him FASCINATING - and Marika is mostly trying to stay out of it. She agrees with Marta on most of the points - their tower-castle was reasonably comfortable, certainly more so than this long hike back to civilization - but also, freedom.

If only they were returning home instead of to a strange country...

Which is about when Villentretenmerth - as the human Borsch - walks into their camp, accompanied by the three dragon woman who have been tending to the sisters. "Marchionesses. Wolf. Bard. I warned you I would take the ladies back if they wished to leave your company."

"The TOWER is better than staying with this BARBARIAN," Marta sniffs. "And Father arranged for marriages for Marika and I already!"

(She knows she gets the crown prince - and she knows that Kaedwen's king is a murderous asshole. Being queen doesn't count if she's not alive to enjoy it...and she won't have allies there to help her plot regicide. She's ambitious, not stupid.)

Somehow, it works out that Borsch and his friends take Marta and Marika back while Lambert and Jaskier continue to Kaedwen with Milena. There is ABSOLUTELY a scene where Lambert is out hunting when bandits try to attack the supposedly unguarded noblewoman and bard, and Milena thoroughly kicks their ass.

Lambert runs back just in time to be HELLA aroused impressed at Milena. Jaskier is already composing an ode to her.

They arrive at Ard Carraigh. Stuck up knights send for the king, who pretends he's a decent person long enough to carry Milena off on a fancy horse. Half an hour later, just as Lambert is moping about losing his new friend, his brothers arrive and go "quick, where's the lady? We have to get out her out of here!"

A very confusing but short explanation-argument later, Eskel and Geralt are chasing after Lambert as he storms the royal palace BY HIMSELF, because like hell will he leave Milena to that monster!

The confrontation is absolutely the most dramatic thing Ard Carraigh has seen in decades, with the witchers storming in just after Milena is crowned but before she can kiss her new husband...

...whom Lambert immediately punches in the face. "HOW MANY WOMEN HAVE YOU KILLED?!? HOW MANY, ASSHOLE? Did you even bother to COUNT THEM?"

Everyone gasps. Eskel and Geralt keep the guards back with drawn swords.

"NO MORE! I *WILL NOT* let you murder Milena for your sick fucking games!"

The king tries to splutter something, but Lambert takes his head off before he can get it out.

And then the sun sets.

And Milena...changes.

Scars from her training with the dragons, greater muscles than any noblewoman should have, and her eyes...

She shrieks - not at the king's death or the witchers' violence, but at her own secret coming out. She's hidden it for so long, and so carefully...she'll never survive this. The Kaedweni court will turn her out, if they don't execute her with her (very briefly) husband -

And then Lambert takes her hand.

"Milena? Are you...okay? Did they hurt you? What happened?"

"I'm CURSED! My sisters and I are cursed - for years now!"

He looks at her. "Y'look fine to me. It suits you."

"Really?"

"I wouldn't lie to you. Never have, never will. And I think you look - good. Really good. The dress is kinda silly - "

Milena giggles. She thought the same thing, when her maids were lacing and buttoning her into the massive thing.

"But YOU are gorgeous. Always have been."

"You still like me? Even..."

"As mutated and scarred up as I am? I'd have to be a fool not to. You're the bravest, strongest, most amazing woman I've ever met."

And she kisses him. She has to, can't hold it back.

(Cue the curse breaking - and leaving her as a witcher.)

Obviously there's cleanup, but Milena IS the queen, and is suddenly betrothed to the man who killed the murderous previous king - so it works out.

And then Villentretenmerth comes back.