#deeply sad for me tbh i miss speaking spanish every day!!!!!!!!

[thewholedamnboulangerie]

duolingo is great bc i had to call a client today to yell at them politely ask why they were ghosting me, and when i got through to their office and asked to speak to my contact they just made confused noises at me THEN HUNG UP

so fuelled by the power of indignation and duolingo i immediately called back and once again oh-so-politely asked if i could please please please speak to their colleague BUT IN ITALIAN THIS TIME

and lo and behold i got an answer that time. grazie mille 💚

[milkbaer]

I posted 3.288 times in 2021

102 posts created (3%)

3186 posts reblogged (97%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 31.2 posts.

I added 1.287 tags in 2021

#grishaverse - 395 posts

#bridgerton - 229 posts

#esc - 207 posts

#shadow and bone - 160 posts

#sab spoilers - 69 posts

#shadow and bone spoilers - 64 posts

#star wars - 57 posts

#esc21 - 40 posts

#sab cast - 36 posts

#sumsebien 🥰 - 30 posts

Longest Tag: 133 characters

#tbh i thought spanish speaking people are latinos but then i remember i learnt that from a post that’s probably made by an american …

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

back hugs with nikolai please? *puppy eyes emoji*

Summary: Nikolai missed you.

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x gender neutral!Reader

Warning: not edited

Wordcount: 1.1k

A/N: @sumsebien once said that Nikolai and Haul, from Haul’s moving castle, are quite similar in their behaviour or character … and I guess I took it a bit too far :))) he’s quite dramatic in this one. Sorry if it’s a lack of … back hugs, was a bit struggling with this one. 🥲

It was weird how much humans could miss something, or someone. Almost ridiculous. Nikolai pushed his mount Punchline to go even faster, the onion domes of Os Alta weren’t even in sight. It was planed for him to arrive by coach but all ride he had been nothing but fidgety, drumming his fingers against his tights and rocking his leg. For once Nikolai couldn’t wait to get home, only to embrace you deeply with his arms and breath in the calming scent of yours.

It felt like weeks, no month, heck, an eternity since he saw you. Well, considering that he travelled first to Os Kervo and then had to attend events in Ketterdam, it had been weeks. But too-clever-fox hadn’t been so clever back home. Nikolai had been so busy that he only kissed you good morning or good night, and not even every day. He was such a fool for not noticing how much he neglected you. His days were either spent with Count Kirigin, the Triumvirate or problems around Os Alta. But seldom with you.

Only on his journey did he noticed how his heart longed for you. In the Grand Palace you had always been there, taken for granted. In truth, Nikolai saw General Zoya, Tolya and Tamar more often than you. But without your perpetual presence he started to notice, and began to miss you, deeply. And he began to regret the minutes not spent with you. Moreover, he regretted not taking you with him. Nikolai should’ve known that you would’ve made any meeting tolerable. Obsequies became fairs when you were around.

Instead, he wasted his time missing the little things he hated about you. Sleeping alone sounded like heaven but soon Nikolai noticed that he couldn’t sleep with the familiar melody of your snores. Even the constant attempts of stealing his blankets were missed by the young king. Nikolai used to mock couples silently, who couldn’t be apart even a day but now and then his heart filled with sadness over things he couldn’t share with you. Didn’t matter if it was Os Kervo or Ketterdam. When Nikolai spotted something, he knew you would like, it upset him that he couldn’t share it with you.

Zoya suggested to take you with them the next time. The general couldn’t take the constant awes, sighs and pouts from her king anymore. Simply because he was stupid enough to no take his love with him.

Citizens shrieked and stumbled away as Nikolai dashed through the streets of the capital. People assumed this was an emergency. If they knew they would laugh, yearning for the arms of your lover wasn’t a necessity. But for their king this was very well an emergency. Punchline snorted exhausted when Nikolai basically pushed his reins into the hands of a clueless and startled servant.

“G-good to see you again, moi–“

“Have you seen Y/N? Do you know where they are?” Panting he combed his hand through his locks, eyes scanning the yard for you. His boots tapping impatiently against the cobble stone of the Grand Palace. Not any less startled the servant shook his head. “Pardon me, Your Highness. But I haven’t seen them all day.”

Nikolai briefly nodded and pushed past him, asking one servant after another. But none seemed to know the answer, it was like you vanished from palace grounds, until he saw one of the maids, that attended to you daily. She let out a tiny squeak when her king approached her like a maniac. By the time his golden-spun hair was tousled, locks sticking out left and right. His cheeks were flushed red from all the effort and stress, asking one person after another, jumping up stairs as fast as he could. He looked indeed, very much like a maniac.

“Oh, thank the saints you’re here,” he grasped her shoulder, and let out a curt, exhausted laugh. “Do you know where Y/N is? I need to find them, and I know that you know where they are.”

Rigid like turned to stone did she stare at him, trying to make out his rushed and frenzied demeanor. Starring into his flushed face she wondered if she had missed a date, she had to prepare you for. “They should be in the gardens, Your Highness. Well, they said they wished to read there an hour ago,” she said, still wondering if she had done a mistake.

His hazel eyes lit up in hope and delight. This was the first useful answer he had gotten. Mentally he slapped himself for not thinking of the palace gardens sooner. Didn’t he know you the best or is he slowly turning into a stranger to you?

He rushed of towards the gardens, not before thanking your maid properly. To his misfortune weren’t the palace gardens a tiny patch of green in the back of the palace. They were huge and Nikolai could only hop that you remained where you were the whole time, or else looking for you was searching for a needle in a haystack. He simply went to one of your favourite places to another, until he finally found you.

Completely lost in your book, and detached from your surroundings, the murmur of the fountains were nothing but soothing backgrounds noises to you. For a moment the young king halted and did nothing but admire you, the way you lost yourself between the pages. However, Nikolai couldn’t wait any longer. Like a castaway wading through the water to secure land did he ran towards you.

In the moment you faced the artistic waters, for once, did he wrap his arms around you and pressed you firmly against his chest. His head rested on your shoulder, nuzzling the crook of your neck. The sudden contact made you squeak in surprise which only made him chuckle.

“Nikolai?” Gently you touched one of his arms, which were firmly wrapped around you. Nobody had informed you that Nikolai would return today. You really hadn’t expected your beloved king.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, his breath tickling your skin. It was a very sweet gesture and saying that you didn’t love his body firmly pressed against you, heart beating against your back, would be a lie. However, you didn’t really understand what was going on. “Is everything okay? Did something happen?”

His cheek rubbed against your neck as he shook his head. “I just missed you,” did he mumble again. Never had he missed you that much. You could get used to that. “I’ve missed you so much,” he mumbled, pressing soft kisses against your sensitive skin. “Forgive me for being such a fool and not noticing sooner.”

Nikolai wrapped his arms stronger around you, hugging you as much as he could. Oh, how much he had missed holding you like that and he wouldn’t let you go, not anymore.

140 notes • Posted 2021-08-26 09:32:09 GMT

#4

masterlist | love to hate you

Pairing: Prince Friedrich x Princess YN of Bavaria Tags: “enemies to lovers” - they don’t wish to kill each other, they just can’t each other

Part One: Revenge is beneath me / accidents, however, will happen

Summary: Since their childhood both prince and princess simply just can not stand each other. But when they surprisingly meet in London, forced to spend time together their hearts and souls begin to confuse their minds.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 .”

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Part two: ???

Summary: ???

142 notes • Posted 2021-03-08 08:44:36 GMT

#3

love to hate you | Part 1

“The prince of Prussia asks the princess of Bavaria for a dance; both absolutely hate it.”

💐 | masterlist | next

• Pairing: Prince Friedrich x Reader (Princess of Bavaria) • Word count: 2.8k • Warnings: none, except for spelling and grammar mistakes, and historical inaccuracy ✨ we alter history to make it fit the narrative ✨ • A/N: @netflixton on made me write it! Well, somehow. But I really have to thank both her and @onlymexsarah because they did not only bring me much joy with their stories but also lots of inspiration. Thank you so much! Really 🥺💖 I hope reading it brings you as much joy as I had writing it. Oh, and I had planned to post another Friedrich story first, but this one was faster. Ah and btw, I’m not Bavarian, sorry my dear Bavarian friends if I fuck up :’) • Small dictionary: Griaß di – informal, like Hello! or Greetings! Pfiad de – informal, goodbye Eure Hoheit – Your Highness Kruzifix – usually a plastic of Jesus hanging at the cross, but it’s also used as a way of cursing. Here it’s a curse.

Berlin, Prussia, 1812

To celebrate the birthday of her son Friedrich, Princess Frederica hosted a big soirée, a ball like usual. Her son might not be heir to the throne, well he was in line somewhere, but he needed a celebration worth a member of the royal family. If he was the son of the king this ball would be bigger and even more marvellous. For her son Frederica would do anything. So, she has had the ballroom decorated with his favourite flowers, colours and had adorned at least every window with candles. She had gotten the best Prussian musicians for him, and even the loveliest voices of Hanover.

Only the best for her son’s birthday.

With his constant travels to the British Isles Frederica often didn’t see him for at least a month. And she knew that he’d soon sail away again, maybe this time it would be Scotland or Ireland. She didn’t know exactly. But she knew that she wanted to see her son happy. When Friedrich was happy, Frederica was happy too. But she feared that if he’d marry an English lady, she’d see him even less.

Maybe she’d have to settle for England too …

 Friedrich loved his mother and not only because she was the only parent left to him. He loved her dearly. It sounded cheesy but she was the best mother he could’ve ever wished for. He was thankful for the party; he knew how much work his mother has put in it. But this evening was delaying his departure for England by two days.

He loved his mother, really, he did. But instead of dancing with debutantes, daughters of family friends, and cousins, he wished to feel the rocky movement of a ship under his feet. Instead Friedrich had to be careful so that no feet would land on or under his.

After he had danced with three of his cousins, he was in desperate need of a break. Especially after having danced with his cousin Charlotte, who was a very passionate and fiery dancer. Instead of leading her, it felt like she was the one who swept him across the ballroom.

But as a prince, and birthday boy, it wasn’t easy to reach the plate filled with lemonade. Everyone needed to talk to him, and Friedrich was too polite to reject them. So, when he gulped down a glass of lemonade it felt like heaven trickling down his throat. He reached for another one, the glasses were far too tiny, when they announced the arrival of another “important” guest.

“Prince Karl of Bavaria and Princess Marie of Bavaria!” they announced when the couple entered the ballroom. Friedrich groaned, not because of them, but because of what, or better who, had to follow.

“And their daughter, Princess Y/N of Bavaria!”

The devil’s spawn.

Grunting in frustration Friedrich grabbed his glass and sprinted off, vanishing in the crowd. He needed to flee, before one of them saw him and decided to talk to him. Talking to the prince would be okay, but he wasn’t too keen on it either.

He needed to get away them – no, from you, as far and soon as possible.

Of course, his mother had invited them. They were her friends. But couldn’t they have left their daughter at home, far, far away in Bavaria?

Hiding amongst other men silently nipping at his drink, Friedrich hoped that he was invisible. He had avoided the middle of the room and the most obvious corners and pretended talking to other gentlemen. In his mind he was unable to be found.

“Griaß di Friedrich! We haven’t seen each other in ages.” Horrified Friedrich spit out his lemonade. Immediately apologizing to the gentleman, who’s coat he just had stained with the sugary drink.

How the hell did you find him?!

He could hear you laughing, maliciously laughing at him.

Your high, gleeful laughter made his skin prickle with anger, and yes, embarrassment. Only by the sound of your voice he could perfectly imagine how you must look like right now. And when he turned around, gritting teeth, he was absolutely right. You wore the same sly grin and superior face as usual.

Of course, he could tell by your sound how you looked like.

You always looked like this.

Looked at him like that when you met.

Usually Friedrich wasn’t petty when people didn’t follow the etiquette. He preferred not to be addressed as your Highness or Eure Hoheit actually. But he hated that you never addressed him correctly. Since he could remember you called him by his Christian name, always.

He hated how you said his name Friedrich, lightly pronounced with your Bavarian accent and hint of mockery. Especially the way how you rolled the first R made him furious. And it appeared to him, that you knew that and only did that to bother him.

“Eure Hoheit, good to see you,” Friedrich lied through gritted teeth. He never understood why he couldn’t bring himself to call you by your baptized name. According to court, he also bowed to you, but only lightly. He would never fully bow down or worse, kneel for you.

“Hm, the pleasure is all mine,” you replied, but your voice said the opposite. You weren’t pleased to be here, he knew that. But he wouldn’t be pleased to be in Bavaria to face you either.

Oh, and you never curtsied for him. You curtsied for his mother and everyone else but not for him.

“The ball looks lovely,” you said and didn’t sound malicious at all. To his surprise you sounded like you meant it. But he wouldn’t trust you, he wouldn’t do that mistake again. Deep inside he knew that this wasn’t all you had to say. You always had something to add.

Always.

Wary he nodded. “Indeed.”

“It’s good to see that one of you has taste,” you said, examining the decorations with a smile. Frederica made an amazing choice with adorning the windows with candles and adding flowers to the room that matched its colours. You really liked it. Friedrich knew that he was meant by your words. To you he had no taste at all.

His frustration slowly grew to anger. Silently raging with gritted teeth, a strong grip on his glass and a forced smile on his face, he asked you. “What do you want?”

“Nothing.”

Why couldn’t he believe you?

“Just formal greetings. And now my deed is done. So, pfiad de Friedrich!” You bid him goodbye in a singsong with wiggling fingers..

Before Friedrich could say anything in return, you walked off to god knows where. Gulping down his drink, again, in anger he watched you waddle off, until you merged with the crowd. Friedrich sighed in relief; he hadn’t even realized that he was holding his breath. Frustrated he rubbed his free hand slowly down his face.

Why was interacting with you always so exhausting?

 Friedrich wished to enjoy his birthday; he did. Not only for him but also for his mother, Frederica put so much effort in this evening and she was bursting with joy. But with Y/N of Bavaria attending he couldn’t relax. Even now, standing beside his mother, it was impossible for him to loosen up. Somewhere in the back of his mind was you, cackling like the witch you were, constantly reminding him that he did not want to encounter you again.

“I know you wanted to depart for England today,” Frederica suddenly said. “I’m sorry.”

Her apology took him by surprise. She doesn’t need to, sure he had had different plans, but he was enjoying his feast in the presence of his mother.

“For what?”

She smiled sadly at him, looking up at her taller son. “For keeping you here when you could be in England instead.”

Frederica warmed his heart, she always did. He clasped his mother’s hands in his. “Mother, I love it. England will still be there in two days or a week. It can wait but my mother cannot, you’re more important to me.”

Giggling she slapped his arm in a friendly, loving manner. “Oh, you. – I see you’re becoming a real charmer.”

Friedrich laughed at that. He didn’t know if he was that charming.

Princess Frederica looked proudly at her son, a warm smile tugged at her face. His father hadn’t been the best and their marriage a disaster, but she was proud of what Friedrich has become. He was so different than him. She just hoped that Friedrich didn’t end up like them and found love, and happiness in marriage.

 The party was going on for hours, and the prince slowly grew tired. His unwanted meeting with Y/N and the fiery dances with his cousin Charlotte, after the second dance she accused him of being a bad dancer, tired him out. Tonight, Friedrich had talked a lot, danced a lot, bowed and kissed hands a lot. He was tired and hoped to retire soon. Maybe if he talked to his mother …

But to his resentment she had a different plan in mind.

“Do me a favour,” Frederica said and pushed his arm towards the crowd. “And please ask Y/N to dance, will you? – She didn’t get to dance a lot, I can’t let the poor thing leave like that.”

Her son snorted, rolling his eyes. You were everything but definitely not poor.

The last person he wished to see was you, but he was too tired to protest so he marched unenthusiastically to the crowd. It took him some time to find you, to be fair, Friedrich didn’t do his best to find you. His subconscious led him the wrong ways, so he wouldn’t have to dance with you.

But there you were, standing beside your mother and looking almost as tired as he felt. He had no idea if you had arrived this day or yesterday at Prussia, and he didn’t care, but it sure must have been tiring. Sluggishly he approached you and greeted both you and your mother with a friendly fake smile. By the look of your eyes he could see that you were surprised to see him, and as uninterested as he was.

He took your hand, no, he had to grab it and hold it firmly for pretending to kiss it. The day his lips would touch your hands, or any other part of your body, would be the end of the world. Some sort of apocalyptic scenario. As soon as he had taken your hands in his, he had felt a small tug from your arm. You had wanted to pull your hand away, and still wanted to do so. But to your dismay, his grip was too tight.

Annoyed you pressed your lips together, which delighted Friedrich. Most of the time he despised you, but he loved it when he managed to irritate you. Oh, he’d surely frame this picture in his mind and put it to his gallery of ‘Y/N vexed faces’.

“I’d be more than honoured if you’d dance with me,” he lied, and you knew.

“No.” was all you said. And for a second, he taught that it was done, and he could retire to his mother. But your mother, Marie of Bavaria had other plans.

“She’d loved to, more than anything else.” She shot you, her daughter, a chiding look and shoved you right into his arms. Which mother would let the opportunity slide for her daughter to dance with a prince, even if she was a princess herself?

 Both young adults groaned but didn’t object. Friedrich rolled his eyes in annoyance when he dragged you to the dance floor. And yes, he really had to drag you. You put much effort in not entering the dance floor.

To both of your dismay the following dance was a waltz.

Grunting he put himself into the right position, squeezing your hands in his and tugging it with him. His grip was a bit too strong for your liking, but you showed no signs of it. You didn’t even wince. You’d would rather chop of your hand than give him the satisfaction of having power. So, you returned his action, and gave his hand a tight squeeze.

“We don’t have to dance,” you said a bit glum.

Friedrich shared the same excitement, but he had – more or less – made a promise to his mother. It was more of a silent promise.

“Yes, we do,” he grunted. “I gave my word to my mother.”

So, this was all Princess Frederica’s fault? You huffed in annoyance. You liked that woman but maybe not so much anymore. But how could you fool? You’d never despise his mother, for that Frederica was way too nice, unlike her son.

“I forgot that you’re a good son,” you mocked him with a perfectly surprised voice. As if he’d usually disappoint his mother. He’d never.

Following the music and other dancers twirled Friedrich you around, savouring that one second of freedom. But far too soon where you back in his arms and the fight for the strongest grip continued. Friedrich knew that he was squeezing hard, even a bit too hard. But your face showed no signs, not even a flinch. You seemed unbothered by it. And he hated it.

So, he changed his grip, squeezed your hand a tad different and harder. You gasped, not able to contain yourself any longer.

Damn Prussian.

“Pardon me, your Highness. I fear my grip was too strong.” Friedrich apologized smoothly with a charming grin. You gritted your teeth; you knew that it wasn’t an accident. He smiled, enjoying his small moment of triumph.

“You did this on purpose,” you snarled. All your dance partner did was feigning his innocence.

“I would never.”

Friedrich twirled you around again. Your mother might have partnered you together but none of you bothered to pretend enjoying this. You only did it because of them.

You two followed the flow of music, the sound and rhythm, which didn’t reflect your emotions. The tune was elegant and yet cheerful, switching from strong and louds chords to gentle and hush. Waltzing to the song would’ve been lotsof fun if you were only dancing with the right man.

Friedrich flinched slightly, pressing his lips together, when you suddenly trod on his toes. Usually his boots would protect him of the stomps of a light, delicate lady. But you tod on his feet with force, with all your power.

“My mother said you were a good dancer,” he said, ignoring his slightly throbbing toes.

Your foot accidentally hit his leg.

He tried not to flinch.

“I never thought of her as a liar, but maybe she did exaggerate your dancing skills.”

Your foot flew against his other shin.

“Oh, I am,” you assured him with an innocent smile, which he knew wasn’t innocent at all. “I think it might be my partner. A dancer is only as good as the one who leads. – Ow!”

“Kruzifix!” you cursed under your breath.

Now it was Friedrich turn to tod on your foot. Thanks to his boots and physiques, and your shoes, he needn’t much to coax out a reaction from you. He sighed theatrical. “I think you might be right.”

And looked at you with a certain grin, you wished to wipe from his face, stepping on your other toes. You glared at him. If eyes could kill, he would’ve been stabbed a dozen times by now.

“It is me who is the bad dancer. But as you said.” Following the tune, he pulled you towards him, making you gasp in surprise, your chests almost touching. You knew that this move was coming but his movements were so abrupt it surprised you. “It is the leader who has the other in their hands.”

According to the rhythm you had to break of, bring some air between you, only to come together again. This time it was you who stepped on the other’s foot again. Your dance was more of a fight and continued until the end. There was a lot of treading, kicking, and squeezing involved but neither of you thought of surrender. Surely several parts of your body would be bruised blue tomorrow.

 When the music grew silent, prince and princess were glad that the dance was over. Except for a formal farewell they said nothing to each other. Worn out did Prince Friedrich returned to his mother and Princess Y/N shuffled grimly to hers. The prince was more than relieved that this farce was over.

In two days, he’d be off to England and Y/N would be stuck far, far away in Bavaria. You and your spite would be far away from him. Friedrich probably had to encounter you next year, at his birthday, again but he’d make sure to never dance with you ever again.

154 notes • Posted 2021-03-01 17:43:40 GMT

#2

heyyy there!! could you maybe do a fic with nikolai where the reader is a heartrender and they’ve been happily married and filling Ravka together for a while now, and she finds out that she’s pregnant and tells him, please?

Summary: Y/N feels a little different and Nikolai is over dramatic.

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x heartened fem!Reader

Warning: not edited

Wordcount: 1.4k

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. If you’re still around anon, I hope you enjoy it. 😊

Becoming queen had never been a dream of you. As a little girl you deemed of the fairytale prince to sweep you off your feet, and ride with you on his white steed into dawn. But if someone would’ve told you that you’d marry a blonde fairytale prince and become queen, you wouldn’t have believed them.

And yet it was true.

Ruling Ravka side by side with Nikolai wasn’t easy. You had experience in making hearts race but not ruling. Ravka wasn’t easy, enemies flanked you left and right. And a Grisha tsarina, sitting on the throne, wasn’t necessarily what Ravkans wished to see. However, over the years you managed to win their hearts. Not of everyone, but people knew and loved you for your charity. They loved that their new rulers didn’t shy away of responsibilities and problems. Simply they loved that they could see their tsar and tsarina, not like the previous ones who liked to hide behind walls of gold and parties, not caring what their people had to endure.

When your popularity grew Nikolai simply murmured into your ear: “See? I told you you’d win their hearts the way you won mine.”

The days in Ravka couldn’t be better. You woke up with the love of your life by your side, golden locks tousled, and his cheeky grin exchanged with sleepy loving murmurs. For once you hadn’t to fear enemies attacking your home and so far, there was no drought or famine either. Life in Ravka wasn’t perfect but it was great. Your life couldn’t be better. Sometimes you couldn’t believe that it was all real and not something your mind has spun out of a fairytale.

However, the past few days you felt something off. It was as if you could feel an echo of your heart, ringing through your body. Deep inside there was a second heart, you felt it. But you weren’t sure. It all could be something different. Your heart playing tricks on you. Or maybe it wasn’t even yours?

Maybe you felt something from the outside.

But no, you were sure that this fast, shallow beat came from you.

Your first thought was a baby. After all the first years of your marriage the only thing missing was an heir to the throne to round it all up. Your period missing would be one indicator, but you knew that you couldn’t simply rely on that. The queen’s cycle wasn’t known for its reliability.

How perfect would a little Nikolai be?

In the mornings when you woke up beside him, combing his hair with your fingers and watching him doze you imagined his reaction. How happy he’d be to hear that a new sobachka would’be coming. For days you dreamed of his reaction. Yet you weren’t really sure if your assumptions were true.

As discrete as it was possible for a queen you went to see the best healer in the Little Palace. If you a heartrender could feel it, she as a healer would know for sure, right?

“I’ve been feeling this second heartbeat,” you told her, eyeing her reaction. For some reason sitting in front of a trained and much experienced healer made you insecure. Not insecure of your body or position. But maybe it wasn’t a second heartbeat, maybe it wasn’t your and it was all just your imagination. The strong wish of bearing a child.

She nodded listening to your words, examining your body with her eyes. “I’m not sure what it is but I was thinking … maybe it’s pregnancy?”

The healer nodded again. Brows furrowed she stared intensely at your belly, as if she could see right through it with her eyes. “May I?” She asked and when you nodded, she laid her cold hands on your abdomen.

“Any sign of blood?”

“No,” you said, hesitating. “But it’s seldom steady.”

She nodded yet again, hands roaming over your skin. There wasn’t much to see or feel yet, your stomach looked pretty much the same. Her face scared you, filling your head with doubts. She looked so concentrated and harsh, with no hint of a smile or any other sign of positivity. It made you think there was something wrong.

She looked up at you. “Moi tsarina, you were right. I can feel something too,” she said and then she merely hinted a smile for the first time. “There’s a tiny heartbeat. But we should do some further examinations, only to be sure.”

Now it was your time to nod. You simply led her do whatever she believed was needed to be done. After a while she returned with a smile on her face. A real smile, the first you’ve seen on her this hour. Smiling she simply said: “Congratulations, Your Highness.”

. . .

Sitting on your bed you watched sun and moon slowly change places. The only thought occupying your mind was how you were going to tell Nikolai and imagine his reaction. You were thrilled to tell him but hadn’t seen him since breakfast. Today had been more packed and eventful for him than you thought. You just hoped that he’d get some sleep and work through the night.

As the sun finally said its goodbyes your love busted through the door. Concern was painted all over his face as rushed over you, letting the door hit the wall. You jumped at his bursting energy, but it also confused you. With wide, quick strides Nikolai was by your side, kneeling before of you, taking your hands in his. “Are you alright darling? They said you were at the healer, for almost an hour.”

His hands were quick, faster than his tongue. You couldn’t return anything before his hands rushed to your face to feel your temperature. His movements were hectic, almost slapping your face. “I’m sorry. I was so busy, I didn’t even notice – I couldn’t take care of you.” But Nikolai slumped down when he found no sign of fewer. “You’re sick and I’m fighting with Dukes over potatoes and kvas.”

“Nikolai,” you said, hoping to stop him but when he found no fewer his hand roamed further, looking for any other sign of sickness.

“I’m sorry for not being there enough for you,” he apologized, pressing different spots on your arms, hands and your neck. But he couldn’t find anything. Nikolai was desperate to find anything. However, he was so worried that he didn’t even let you speak. The young kind was too occupied to play physician and finding nothing.

At one point you had enough and used your hands to slow his heartbeat down. You rarely used your heartender abilities on him, only if he asked you to do so. It didn’t seem fair otherwise. But right now, he didn’t leave you any choice. “Love, please calm down.”

Influenced by your powers he let out a deep, rather relaxed breath and looked into your eyes. You cupped his cheeks and were tempted to kiss the tip of his nose, his brows, lips or any other part of his face. But you doubted he would listen to you when you kissed him first.

“Nikolai, I’ve to tell you something,” you said and contemplated about the way you’d do it. Simply proclaiming that you were pregnant seemed a bit boring to you. “You’re no longer my sobachka.”

Confused the blonde king furrowed his brows. Were you breaking off with him? Did you want a divorce? “Are you saying?” He didn’t know what you were saying. “I am not sure if our bond can be broken.”

“What? No!” You said in protest. Breaking off with Nikolai was the least thing you wanted. “I said that because there will be another sobachka.”

“Another?” Why did he look offended now? You really had hoped that he would get it, especially with the visit at the healer. Maybe you had slowed down his heart too much.

“Nikolai,” you sighed, defeated. Gently you caressed his cheeks and pecked his lips, you couldn’t resist anymore. He was so clueless; a kiss couldn’t do any more harm. “I’m pregnant.”

You could see how joy lit up his face. “Do you mean we will be?” He asked, overly excited, more than you had expected. Soon it was him who cupped yourface and kissed you senseless, covering your face in sweet kisses. “Are you serious?”

His joy was contagious, and you couldn’t help but laugh with joy. You nodded. Nikolai kissed you again. But this time he captured your lips in a long, giddy kiss, where you could feel his grin against your lips. And after that he kissed you again, and again.

196 notes • Posted 2021-08-29 07:05:01 GMT

#1

Witch’s Night

Matthias Helvar x Healer!Reader

summary: At Walpurgis Night Matthias only had dreamed of dancing with a stranger, never thinking it becoming reality and more wordcount: 4.7k warnings: maybe ooc Matthias? Lots of kissing 😬 like really, I overdid it a/n: last week was Walpurgis Night and it felt like something Fjerdans would celebrate, going a bit bonkers. Yeah, I wanted to post it on Walpurgis Night bc let’s be honest, that would’ve been cool, right? But I’m slow. Well, here we are. I hope y’all having fun 💕 oh yeah, Reader is a healer but it’s (only) hinted. Big thanks and hugs to @sumsebien​ for helping me edit it all and polishing it 🥺💖

„Do you want to dance?” Matthias heard a sweet but slightly slurred voice. He looked up to meet the eyes of drunkest girl he has met. Her hair was loose, not in the usual braids Fjerdan women wore, falling into waves around her faces. A crown made of herbs sat perfectly on her head. Some strands of hair stuck to her forehead and cheeks. Illuminated from the fire behind her she looked like the most divine being he had ever seen, like Djel had chosen her. Everything of her was bewitching, even her slightly intoxicated smile.

“No, actually not,” he said. The young drüskelle was not used to being asked by a woman. Fjerdan women were expected to be pious and demure, virtuous. It was forbidden for them to even look at alcoholic beverage in public. 

But today wasn’t a normal day, tonight was witch’s night and the farer you were from a bigger city, the less orderly the festivity was. In Djerholm women would be dancing and singing around the pyre, wearing whatever they wanted, but they wouldn’t dare to touch any kind of punch or wine.  Here, however, in one of the more rural villages, people didn’t care. They were too drunk on wine, too drunk on music and joy.

The girl pouted. “Is it because you’re a drüskelle?” she asked. “Do you not want to or are you not allowed to?” 

Since other drüskelle, his friends, were all dancing, the answer should be clear. He didn’t want to. No, actually, all Matthias wanted to do was grab her and pull her to the dance floor. His heart said go but his brain stopped him, telling him it was wrong to do so. Why? He did not know.

“No? Okay, what a shame,” she said, when Matthias kept silent. 

With a sigh, he watched her skip towards the dance circle, taking the hand of a young man and the of an older women. They danced and laughed like she knew them her entire life.

Matthias watched her sing along to the old songs of the Hedjut, laughing and twirling around. He didn’t know why but he just couldn’t take his eyes of her. No, he knew exactly why he couldn’t stop looking at her. She was simply enchanting, her beauty and rhythm were captivating, and her plain joy made him feel pure happiness. 

Matthias should’ve gone and danced with her. But he didn’t. Instead he watched her with a smile on his face that he didn’t even knew was there.

. . .

Sipping on his wine Matthias took a break from the fire and dancing. The folk tunes had died down and the players took a minute to change the style, plucking and striking the chords in an even wilder rhythm. Matthias hadn’t set one foot on the dance floor and yet he had felt the need to rest. Sitting around the fire had made him feel too hot in his wool coat, simple waistcoat and linen shirt. He couldn’t imagine how she must feel, dancing and dancing around the pyre in her traditional dress, never stopping. She must be exhausted.

Stop it, Helvar. He knew he shouldn’t think about her every minute and second. But his brain betrayed him every chance it got, shifting back to her as fast as it could. The girl was so intoxicating, there was just no escape. So he stopped trying, letting his thoughts wander back to her, over and over, thinking how she might be if it wasn’t witch’s night, and she was just another regular Fjerdan girl. Pious, demure, and virtuous.

Wine got wasted, spilled on the ground when Matthias let it drop in surprise. Out of the blue, the young drüskelle got dragged away, one arm firmly embracing his. Confused he let himself be taken away until he came to his senses, putting all his weight to his feet. “What are you doing? You owe–“

Surprised by the sudden force of his rebellion, the girl tumbled against his chest, falling into his arm. Matthias hadn’t noticed that it was her, despite having watched her dance for an eternity. “I’m going to dance with you, drüskelle,” she said, patting his chest.

“My name isn’t drüskelle and I won’t dance with you,” Matthias said, tone not matching his words. Instead of scowling or looking intimidating, a small smile adorned his face. He had no idea nor control over it, the grin creeping onto his lips like it had been placed there by an otherworldly force. He would not be surprised if it had been her doing. Maybe she was a drüsje.

“Well, I’d call you by your name, if I had known it. So drüskelle is all I can call you,” she said. “Or do you prefer handsome stranger? You can choose.”

“M-Matthias. Call me Matthias” He chuckled miserably, sounding like he was choking. Since when did he get flustered? Could it be the scent of the herbs twisting his mind? “But only if you tell me yours.”

“My name’s Y/N, you better not forget it, Matthias,” she said in a teasing way, patting his chest yet again. “Come on, we’ve some dancing to do!” 

He chuckled and let her lead the way. Walpurgis Night was a crazy night, but he loved the way she said Matthias. Y/N didn’t know him and yet his name sounded so light and loving in a way he hadn’t heard for a long time.

“So, what is it that you do, Matthias?” Y/N asked as soon as they stepped between the other dancers. 

The tall blonde blinked, confused why she would ask that when she knew that he was a drüskelle. “We hunt drüsje.”

“I know, but what is it that you do for fun?” 

Still confused, he began telling her about the ways he caught witches. How he was often used as an element of surprise - his bola disarmed witches easily. He told Y/N more but stopped when he noticed that she didn’t find joy in it. It was the first time that Matthias had ever seen her not laugh or smile. She looked rather sad, and he couldn’t take it. Fjerdan women didn’t like hearing about witch trials, fights and shackles, not even on Walpurgis Night.

“That’s not what I meant. What do you like?” Y/N asked him softly as if they were alone in a quiet place and not amongst feasting people. “I really love flowers – “She had meant to say more, Matthias knew it but never got to hear it. 

Before she could tell him more about herself, Y/N got pulled away by another dancer wearing one of the infamous Hedjut witch masks. They were made of wood with pudgy noses, ghastly eyes and gruesome smiles carved into them. Some were painted to look extra beastly. They loved portraying them as horrendous as horrendous creatures, while their tales painted drüsje as sinful allure, seducing both women and men alike.

Matthias was led away to dance with another young girl wearing a lavish flower crown. She took his big, rough hands into hers and moved him to the rhythm. He hadn’t danced in a long time, music and the moves felt foreign to him, but he tried following her steps, letting her pull him along the way she wanted. The flower girl was pretty and good at dancing, yet definitely not as good as Y/N. He hoped for another change of partners to come so that . . .

He hated the dances, not because they weren’t any fun, actually he had plenty of fun, but it felt short because she wasn’t with him. Y/N dragged him out here to dance with her and yet he never got the chance to do so. Matthias got passed on from the flower maiden to an older woman, then to a group with a courting couple. She was always too far away from him. In the end he gave up, retiring from the dance floor to flop back down on one of the logs.

Dancing with Y/N had been different than he had imagined. But when he slumped down hoping to catch her in the corner of his eyes, she was nowhere to be found. 

“What? Had enough of dancing already? I must admit, I expected more from you, Matthias.” 

Matthias looked up to find her smiling at him again. Y/N looked even more enchanting than before. Her crown had barely moved, her hair wild. She was glowing, fire illuminating her from behind. Earlier, he thought that she looked like something chosen from Djel but now, light forming a halo around her, Matthias was sure that this was Djel’s work.

“I’m not dancing again.”

“Why not?”

Because I’m not dancing with you again. Ever.

She sat down beside him, first looking at the stars and then watching the dancers. For a moment, they sat in complete silence. One that he both embraced and feared. His eyes moved to Y/N, admiring her again, taking in her dress, the Hedjut patterns, and her scent. She smelled like herbs and fire, like thyme and rosemary, smoky and tangy with a certain kind of sweetness. Matthias was unable to put it into words, but he would never forget her scent again. Whatever witchcraft was doing to him, he didn’t want it to end.

“I think we might need some wine,” Y/N said. “Yes, I’ll get us some. Wait here.”

Matthias was a bit baffled but stood up to get two cups instead, ordering her to stay seated on the log. They clinked their clay cups and after taking the first sips, Y/N said, “I’ve the feeling they’ll change songs soon.”

He looked at her, sipping slowly and licking away the remains of wine in the corner of her lips. “I won’t dance again.”

“But I want to dance with you,” she said, almost whining, and he wondered if they both felt the same. “We barely had the chance to do so. And besides, I have a feeling that they will play a slower song next.”

Light chuckles escaped his throat, his body shaking out of joy. Yet again, he couldn’t escape her good mood, it was just … she was just bewitching. “Oh, so you have a feeling?”

“Yes, I trust it very well. My gut has never betrayed me since–” Laughing Y/N patted her tummy.

“Since when?”

“Well, since forever,” she shrugged, a silly grin on her lips. 

Finally, the old song tuned down, the musician took a short break to recollect their energy and breath. Not even Djel knew, how long they had been playing. “Your feeling must be drunk then,” Matthias snorted when another circle formed to an upbeat melody. The slow couple’s song she promised never came.

“It’s not drunk. I’ve only had 3 or 4 cups!” Y/N protested, chucking down the rest of her drink. Matthias couldn’t help but stare at her. Did she really just …? “I know one is coming, so just you wait –“

Suddenly, she jumped off the log, rushing towards the dark and vanished.  He was left gaping at her, dumbfoundedly staring into nothing. Matthias didn’t know what to do. The drüskelle still needed to process what had just happened. One minute they were joking around, and the other Y/N ran off into the dark. Maybe they were right with forbidding women to drink in public. He went after her. But just as he stood up, she returned with a smile, her hands behind her back.

“What happened?” Matthias asked, worried. Y/N only smiled, he didn’t care if it was put there by alcohol, it was just sweet like honey. Precious, silky and golden as though it was pure bee’s gold. 

“I found what was missing,” she said, leaving him even more confused. As far as he knew nothing had been missing … or was he already so drunk that he missed something and didn’t notice? Smiling bright, brighter than the bonfire, she presented him a crown. It was different than hers, with less herbs and more lavish flowers in every size and color.

Matthias looked at her, confusion written all over his face. His cheeks were already a tad red and hot from the bits of wine he had, he didn’t know but he could swear that they grew warmer. The last time Matthias wore a flower crown, he was still a child. His sister liked to weave grasses and flowers into wreaths. They all were simple, almost poorly made but Matthias had always worn them with pride. And his little sister used to look so happy when he did so, laughing when they matched.  

“A crown?” he asked simply to fill the brief silence, just to say anything. 

Y/N nodded, wearing a shy smile on her lips. The whole night he had seen her be nothing but boisterous, full of life and joy. This was the first time he saw her act bashful. “I thought it was only fair. May I?” She asked coming down to his level, lifting up the colorful wreath.

Matthias looked at her, droning out fire, music, and people. Everything was far, far away, only Y/N and him. Where there was nothing else. The fire illuminated them both and he only thought, again, how enthralling she was. His blue eyes met hers. He knew it wasn’t the first time, but he fell deep for her. 

Scooting closer, Y/N lifted the flowers over his head. Matthias kept still, breath hitched, afraid of ruining everything if he moved even just a little. Her hot breath tickled the tip of his nose, brushing over his cheeks, as he watched her place it onto his head with concentration. Careful, as if it was a crown made out of gold and she was crowning a king, she adjusted it until she deemed it flawless. 

“Perfect,” she mumbled, gently removing her fingers as if they could destroy her work at any time. Moving back to admire her work, Y/N hesitated, suddenly noticing how close they were. Her breath tickled him still.  Her eyes wandered down to his lips. With a gulp, she thought about pressing her lips to his.

She was close and he tried to take in all the beauty of her face, from the small scratch on her nose to the form of her lips. So close he could smell the herbs even more. Everything was wonderful. 

Matthias moved closer. Without even knowing, his eyes lingered on her lips. He couldn’t explain why, he didn’t need to, but he wanted her. Matthias wanted her to kiss him, to feel her lips on his. 

They were so close, lips almost brushing against each other.

So close.

“Shall we dance?” Y/N whispered against his lips. “There’s a slow one coming up.”

He nodded hesitantly, breaking what shouldn’t be.

“You feel it?” Matthias himself didn’t know what he had meant. The music or the kiss that almost happened between them.  

She nodded, leading him away to the dance floor.

. . .

Finally, Matthias was doing what he wished to do but it felt off. He held her in his arms, slowly dancing to the tender tune of music. All night, he had only wished to dance with her. But now that he was holding Y/N in his arms he didn’t want to anymore. All the time his mind went back to what shouldn’t have happened and never did.

Kissing in public, as an unmarried couple, was shameful and improper. It was too much, even for witch’s night.

But forget the dancing. All he wanted to do was wrap his arms around her and press his lips to hers. It was wrong but it was all he could think about. His whole mind spun around kissing her. How good she would feel in his arms, against his lips. She would, surely, taste like sweet wine.

Y/N smiled at him and he did too.  He couldn’t refuse her smiles, couldn’t refuse her lips. The music was loud and yet he heard what she was whispering to him so clearly. Did he look as besotted as she did? Maybe, at least, he hoped so for her. She should know how much she enthralled him. But there was no way that he would ever look as lovely, and divine, as she did.

“You look beautiful,” Y/N breathed. It was only meant to be heard by him. No one has ever called him, a drüskelle, a witch hunter, a Fjerdan soldier, beautiful. Only his mother. He didn’t mean to, but his cheeks flushed bright red, and it wasn’t the work of alcohol or fire. Seeing him blush, wearing the flowers, and looking absolutely stunning, made her smile more. “You really are.”

Matthias never wanted to imagine how she would behave if it wasn’t witch’s night but a regular day. How she would be, pressured by society and high ranks to act after their will. He did not want for her to be more pious and demure. All he wished for her to never change, to be who she was and to stick more flowers, and herbs, and whatever she wanted, into his hair.

All he wanted was to love and worship her.

“Do you want to dance?” He had meant to thank her or something. But somehow all that came out was a silly suggestion. He didn’t even want to dance anymore. His words echoed in his head, thinking how stupid it must have sounded. 

Y/N stared at him, tonight’s fire reflecting in her eyes. “No, I think I’ve enough,” she said, even though Y/N could never have enough of dancing.

“Really?” As far as he knew, she could dance all night long.

“What? You don’t believe me?” Her grin made him chuckle. 

Their plan wasn’t bullet-proof, but they slipped out into the forest, careful not to be noticed by many. She let him lead her through the forest, even though she knew it better than he did.

“Where are we going?” She asked, unable to suppress her giggles. Matthias led her deeper into the woods, running and laughing like the love drunken fools they were. 

“You’ll see!” He laughed but he had no plan where to go.

They ran and laughed, skipping over the occasional stones in their way.  Not even the sharp, dense webs of branches could stop them. But when his boot hit against a thick tree root, he stumbled. With nothing to break their fall, both of them landed on the mossy ground. “Are you okay?” Y/N asked, pushing her wreath and some hair out of her eyes.

Groaning, Matthias turned around, stumbling hadn’t been nothing this time. But when he saw her, and the stars and moon behind her, he smiled like an idiot. “Djel, you’re beautiful.”

He had no idea how they got here to this small clearing, where the night sky was perfectly framed by the woods. This must have been Djel’s doing, he must have ld them here. “I think you’re pretty too,” Y/N smiled lovingly, carefully caressing his cheek. “But are you okay?”

His hand rested above hers, pressing it slightly more to his cheek. Desperately he wanted to kiss her hands, every knuckle and more important, he finally wanted to kiss her. Slowly he moved her hand to his lips, pressing soft, light kisses against its back and then kissing her palm, long and gently. Never had he kissed a girl like that before, but it just had felt like the right thing to do. Closing her eyes, Y/N enjoyed this serene moment, his gentleness. She had watched him before, rough, and violent with his fellow drüskelle but never had it crossed her mind that he could be so gentle.

Lifting their hands away from his lips, his eyes found her again, looking so damn peaceful and perfect. Finally, Matthias wanted to get a taste of her mouth, the sweetness of her lips but when he hoisted himself up to kiss her, he hissed. 

“Matthias, are you alright?” Y/N asked him again, concern written all over her face.

Between all his running and stumbling he must have collected some scratches, one must have gotten deeper, or he had fractured his hand trying to weaken the fall. Having inspected his hands and arms, Matthias just shrugged. “It’s nothing, just a few scratches.” While his cuts didn’t seem deep Y/N still worried for his well-being. She wouldn’t be surprised if he had played it all down and had actually been badly hurt.

“Are you–“ 

With his hand on her head, pressing her further onto his level, the drüskelle had done what he had longed to do. He kissed her. It was short and sloppy, he only caressed half of her lips. But it felt so good. Y/N’s lips, the part of them, were even sweeter than he had imagined. It was better than he had ever imagined.

Having just kissed her, all sloppy and not perfect at all, Matthias stared at her, stomach churning. He hunted drüsje, brought them to fall with his bola and skills, and yet he felt nervous because of a kiss. It was terrifying. Had Y/N enjoyed it as much as he did?  Or had it been so horrible that she’d never kiss him again and regretted even asking him to dance in the first place? 

Y/N stared at him and it made him nervous. She noticed the small cuts on his faces, so small that they were barely visible. His cheeks shone rosy on his fair skin, lightly illuminated by the night sky. He was either flushed because of the kiss or something else. Whatever it was, he looked beautiful with his short hair lightly tousled, fine strands sticking to his skin. It was a shame that his crown got knocked off, he’d have looked even prettier.

“Kiss me, Matthias.”

He needn’t have been told twice.

Cupping her cheeks, almost squishing them in delight, he caught her lips in a hungry kiss. Quickly his hands moved down her neck when Y/N slung her arms around his, pressing herself closer to him, deepening the kiss. Having her sit in his lap made loving her so much easier. A soft moan escaped him when she raked her finger through his hair, massaging his scalp. Her playing with his hair and lips, sucking on them lightly, felt too good to be true. Heavenly. But it was all short-lived when her lips left his, making him wonder if he had done something wrong again.

Her arms slumped down against his neck, hugging it loosely. Gently she rubbed her nose against his, tips briefly touching in a loving manner. “You’re beautiful, do you know that Matthias?”

“You keep telling– “ 

Gone was her tenderness when Y/N kissed him again, sloppy but hungry, sucking in his lower lip.

“Because you are.” She smiled before holding his cheeks and going down on his lips again. He didn’t mind being pushed back into moss by a forceful kiss. Smiling into the kiss, he actually enjoyed it. His hands felt a bit restless, unsure of what to do. Her fingers crawled back to his hair, drawing again a moan from him. It left Y/N wanting for more, nibbling his bottom lip until he parted his lips for her to enter. His hands rested on her back, keeping her near and pushing her closer until their tongues met for the first time. Her mouth tasted even sweet than her lips, sweeter than Matthias had imagined. This couldn’t all be the wine he thought. She must be honey. 

He remembered thinking he could get lost in her gaze and drown in her taste forever. 

Roaming over her back, he could feel hints of her stays under her dress. Y/N held his face in her hands, cupping his cheeks, deepening their kiss. His fingers found the buttons of her dress, itching to loosen them and feeling the soft skin of her back against his rough hands. Under her touch, his skin tingled. The prickling sensation moved through his body and he thought, amazed, that this was exactly what he had been waiting for all night. Infatuated by the pleasant feeling in his body, he only noticed he had loosened her buttons when the skin around her neck and shoulders was revealed to him, free for him to roam.

Breaking the kiss, their breaths erratic, they gasped for some air before going down again. Y/N smiled at the feeling of his hands caressing her back. And after playing with his short hair for the thousandth time, her fingers trailed down to his chest. Fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, unable to open it, she broke off the kiss. Matthias chuckled at her desperate attempts to open his shirt. She cursed as she yet did not manage to unbutton it again.

“Wait, let me,” he said. Hands leaving her shoulders bare, partly slipping off her sleeves unwillingly, to fumble at his own buttons. To her delight, Matthias, too had troubles with the buttons of his own shirt, cussing when he didn’t manage to open them as easily as he thought.

“I see we’re having some troubles.” Y/N laughed. Seeing him curse his own garment was funny and oddly cute.

“Not anymore,” he said, when he finally managed to open the first buttons of his shirt, guiding her back to his lip with a hand gently resting on her cheek. While her hands quickly traveled to his chest, fingers gently tracing over his skin, he found his way back to her bare shoulders.

They seemed to match perfectly, lips moving perfectly in sync. Y/N smiled, moaning into the kiss, when she felt Matthias’ chest lightly vibrating. He couldn’t stop himself, moans swallowed by their lips, as he travelled down her back, fingers gliding over her stays. Slowly he moved down her back, gently sliding over her buttocks, while Y/N painted light patterns on his chest. It sounded stupid but the hair on his chest had surprised her. In a pleasant way. She would later tell him that she loved the tiny hairs on his chest and running her fingers over it.

Y/N would never stop telling him how beautiful he was. In her eyes Matthias was simply heavenly, divine. The most beautiful man Djel has ever created.

Matthias didn’t know where he was going with this, there wasn’t much thought behind his moves. All he wanted was to simply love and worship her, praising every inch of her. His hands left goosebumps all by themselves when they slowly traced over her legs. His hands traveled further, under the skirts of her dress, hitching it up. Hands resting upon her thighs, he gave them a little squeeze, smiling when she made a pleased sound. 

But his smile vanished quickly with her hand, leaving his chest feeling slightly empty. Y/N moved her hand to his, both resting upon her thigh. She too gave it a little squeeze and then Matthias felt it again. This warm feeling moving through his body, hand tingling with something that must be joy, love, or both. Again, he couldn’t describe it but if kissing her felt like this, he would never get enough of it.

Smiling he broke the kiss, both appreciating the pause to recollect their breath. He stared at her and she looked back, memorizing every inch of his mesmerizing face. Y/N would love to tell him yet again, how pretty he was. She couldn’t get enough of telling him that. Seeing his bashful reaction just made her heart swell. “Such a shame you don’t wear the crown anymore, you’d look even prettier. If that’s even possible.”

Y/N expected him to blush, chuckle, or both, at her compliment. But all he did was admire her. He just couldn’t stop looking, again thinking how perfect she looked. It almost seemed unbelievable to him that tonight he had danced with her and kissed her under the moonlight. He never wanted this almost dream-like evening to end. If by tomorrow, it all turned out to have been nothing more than his imagination, he would be glad, still, that it was the best dream he had ever had.  Gently and with love in his eyes, he brushed strands of her hair from her face, tucking them behind her ear. Matthias kissed her again but not hungry like a wolf. He was far gentler, carefully nibbling at her lips, as if they might break, before kissing her with all the love and adoration he  could muster.

“Did you know that you taste very sweet?” Mathias asked her.

She laughed. “Like sugar?”

“No, like honey but much, much sweeter.”

216 notes • Posted 2021-05-09 19:33:16 GMT

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