#feysand fluff

[sapphicmsmarvel]

feysand: getting together

feyre and rhysand discover the beauty of triad-bonds. no smut, all fluff, a sprinkle of angst.

buckle in we got a long ride (3K but hey this is long for me)

- It was interesting how you three got together. 

- Of course Rhysand initially thought that he and Feyre got together first out of the three of you.  

- No. You and Feyre lost your virginities together, and had your first kisses together. 

- She calls you her first love, always has. 

-Rhysand has always found you interesting, you were an angel compared to Nesta and Elain. When Feyre had come back to the mortal lands, you were the only one to look at her with relief. He could practically taste it as you brought her into your arms and cried into her hair. 

“Oh, my love. Whose ass am I kicking?” 

He didn’t miss the nickname, nor the way Feyre glowed after you called her that. Or how you never left her side. 

It was the first time he had heard Feyre giggle. 

So he knew right then and there he was going to protect you no matter what. That opinion was solidified when you welcomed them in with open arms, no questions. Then, you snapped at Nesta on their behalf. 

He remembers when he asked you why you let them in so easily. You had shrugged and said, “Feyre trusts you. I trust you.”

It was…interesting to say the least. If he wasn’t so smitten with Feyre he’ll admit that he could fall for you. 

-One night, after the war, after Cassian and Nestas' mating ceremony and baby Nyx’s birth; the two of them laid in bed with the babe cuddled into Feyre’s chest. He asked the question he had been dying to ask. “Were you and Y/N ever….?” 

She looked at him as if she was nervous, “yes.” She whispered, her voice small. “Is that a problem?”

“No!” Rhysand whispered fervently. Quietly enough to not wake Nyx, but loud enough that it showed how much he meant it. “I’ve always had a feeling.” 

She sighed, tears brimming her eyes, “gods these stupid hormones.” 

He wiped her tears. “I’m not mad.” 

“I know. But…” she shook her head. “It’s really scary.” 

“We don’t have to talk about it.” 

“No, I want to. But I also want to show memories, so you can….understand why I don’t ever want her to leave my life.” 

“I mean, I don’t know her nearly as well, yet I don’t want her to leave my life either. She’s….” He didn’t know how to finish that sentence, and if Feyre didn’t feel the exact same way, she might’ve nailed his dick to the wall.  

“Yeah.” She sighed. “She has a way of captivating people.” 

He felt her brush against his shields, and he opened up to her. 

“We met when we were five years old. Around age six, I declared I was going to marry her. Everyone laughed at me, but when I told her that she just smiled and said, ‘I want to marry you too’. Of course, we were six years old, we didn’t know any better. All throughout our childhood we shared a bond, I thought my entire life she was my soulmate.” 

As Feyre spoke, Rhysand saw her weave the tale of you two. 

“Then, I fell for Tamlin, and then you. I wouldn’t trade you for anyone. But she’s always stayed in my heart. When we went back to the village to see my sisters, I was more nervous to see her. Nesta and Elain rejected me my entire life, she was the one person that never did. I don't know what I would’ve done if she looked at me like that. Like I was a monster.”  

He then felt the happiness that Feyre felt that day when you took her into your arms. He could feel the tears that hit Feyres neck as you cried. Your perfume seemed to have a mind of its own and weave around her. He was in Feyre’s head, he wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to leave this embrace. 

As the night went on, she shared more memories of the two of you. He could feel his heart glowing as he saw you two laugh and grow together. 

- When Feyre was gone, you had found him in the backyard of the townhouse. He was drinking a glass of fae wine. You sat down next to him. 

“You know Feyre would call me a sap for being worried about her.” You started. 

He could almost laugh at that. It fits. “She’d also probably hit you.” 

“Oh yeah, maybe with her shoe?” He whipped his head to you. 

“She tells me everything, Rhysand.” You quirked an eyebrow. “Everything. Which is why I’m not storming into the spring court. I know what she needs to do.” 

“What?” 

“She told me about it. When it was happening.” You said. “When that bastard brought us in, she spoke in my head. Told me about it and that I needed to trust you guys. So I did.” “I’m sorry, that you three got brought into this.” 

You shrugged, “you would’ve seen me around anyway. Fey and I can’t stay away from each other. At least this way our friendship will last longer.” 

He huffed a laugh, amazed at your positivity. “I’m surprised you’re this positive about it.” 

You shrugged, “I just got her back, I’m not losing her again.” 

“Yeah. I can relate to that.” He said quietly. 

- After that night, he looked after you more. You helped out in the kitchen, you cleaned too even though you were requested not to. You can’t just sit around. You even talked to Rhysand about getting a job. 

- You two also hung out together, you either talked or just sat quietly. He found that you were one of those people that made it extremely easy to talk to you about anything. He felt safe with you immediately, which should’ve rang off more warning bells than it did. 

- You were accepting this life, because rejecting it would just result in a big spiral that you refused to go down. You’ve been down a depression rut before, you know when the signs are coming so you made yourself useful around the townhouse. 

- After Feyre came back from the Spring Court; you welcomed her again with open arms. Held her while her own sisters turned her away. 

Nesta had shoved you away because to her it seemed you were taking Feyre’s side. You weren’t. You loved all of them so much, you just wanted a bit of normalcy even though you knew it would never be normal again.

Him, Feyre and the entire Inner Circle heard that screaming match between you and Nesta. 

“And you’re acting like everything’s fine!”

“If I do not act, I will fall apart. This is our lives now. It sucks, the change fucking sucks but you know what could suck more? Feyre being dead. I know you like to act all cold and heartless because it’s some fucking defense mechanism-“

“Do not psychoanalyze me Y/N.” 

“My defense mechanism is trying to make the most out of things! I’m sorry I'm not like you Nesta; I always wish I would be. It would be a lot less painful than feeling every-fucking-thing.” 

Nesta was silent and you continued. “I love you, I would do anything to protect you, to help you. But I cannot be pulled between the three of you.”

“So you’re choosing Feyre? Acting like this is normal?”

“I am choosing me.” You said. “I am choosing to deal with things. This is my life now and I will be damned if I waste one more second on hating myself ever again.” 

Nesta had left the room, storming past the inner circle and walking out. Feyre quickly ran upstairs, her mate hot on her trail. Everyone else remained downstairs in case you didn’t want an audience. Hell, Cassian tried to pull Rhysand away from checking on you. But Rhysand had shrugged him off. 

You’d grown on Rhys quite a bit. 

When they got upstairs, Feyre crept in, “Sometimes.” You breathed, “I want to punch that bitch in the face.” 

“Y/N-” Feyre started. 

“I love her, so much, Fey. But my Gods-” You choked out. “I am just trying to keep it all together.” 

“I know.” Feyre nodded, “that’s what you do. You make sure we’re all okay, but you don’t prioritize yourself. That’s what you’ve always done, but please do not put us before you this time.” Feyre’s voice was wobbly as she turned you into her shoulder. 

That’s where you broke down, and Rhysand made himself scarce. But not before seeing that look in his mates eyes. The same look she had when she found him during his nightmare. 

The face of someone watching the love of their life break down. 

-Eventually things between you and Nesta got better, “they always do” you had reassured Rhysand when he was talking to you about it. Feyre even agreed, “things always work out with Y/N. She doesn’t let stuff be unsaid.” 

- That’s why when he started fumbling around you like a schoolgirl, he realized pretty quickly what was going on. He knew that if you got a whiff about it, it would be endless misery. Not only would he lose Feyre, his entire family would turn on him. He knew what he was feeling too. It was the same thing he felt about Feyre when he first met her, intrigue. And then, it became so much more. 

The mating bond was beginning to snap. But a trio bond? Cause he still very much was bonded to Feyre. He had never heard of a trio bond in his particular area of the world. He knew couples took on consorts or occasional thirds. He even joked about that with Fey. 

Hell, this entire inner turmoil he’s had to keep from shouting down the bond. He wants to talk to her because she’s his best friend but how do you tell your wife you think you’re also fated to be with her best friend? 

So he began countless research methods. Just wondering if it was a thing at all. Or if they were about to rewrite history. However, he found that while it wasn’t common, it did happen. So, he began a folder compiling research, putting things together to show Feyre everything he’s found. 

- Pretty soon he was able to grow a pair and tell her. He walked into their home, first he checked on his beloved son to see him sleeping in his crib. Then found Feyre in their bedroom. He walked up to Feyre too, ready to confess, when she looked at him extremely nervous. “I wanna try something.” She started. “I…I love you. So fucking much Rhys. But….I was wondering if we could add Y/N to the mix. I’ve felt this pull and I can’t explain it. And it’s really scaring me right now.” 

He felt like he was going to collapse. He then realized he didn’t say anything when Feyre started crying, “please say something.” 

“I…I’ve felt the pull too.” He held out the folder, “that’s actually what I want to talk to you about.” 

So they stayed up quite late, going over the logistics, how they still felt about each other (spoiler: disgustingly in love still), and how they would feel adding you. 

- They wanted you more than anything. 

- So, despite Feyre telling Rhysand “no my love, she’s not going to like subtle ways here. She needs direct.” He still went subtle. 

- She just let him do whatever. Even though she knew damn well you don’t like gray areas, you need point blank black and white. 

- She knew not intervening sooner would bite her in the ass, especially when you stormed into the art studio fuming. But she did enjoy the beautiful blush on your cheeks. She also found your angry eyes disgustingly attractive like she always has. 

You threw your bag over in a chair. “You need to tell your husband to stop flirting with me.” You hissed to her. 

Feyre raised a brow, “tell him yourself.” 

You looked shocked. Feyre quickly realized that this wasn’t the time for a blunt best friend role. Especially when she knew her husband had feelings for her best friend. “Fey! You can’t be okay with this!” 

She sighed, “can you just stay here, please? I’m going to get him here and we’re going to get this figured out.” 

You sighed and waited. When Rhysand came strolling in all breezy, he froze like he was terrified. “Uh, hello my two favorite beautiful ladies-”

“See!” You yelled. “He doesn’t stop.” 

“And he’s not going to.” Feyre sighed, “we have something to talk to you about.” 

She was glad she could read your face so well after all these years still. Let’s just hope there were more years of friendship, and possibly more. 

She also didn't know how to be around the bush with you. “You know the mating bond?” 

You nodded, so she continued. “Since a few months ago, both Rhys and I-” she looked at her husband. “We’ve felt…a pull to you.” 

You just stared. Rhysand continued. “The pull is the beginning of the mating bond.” Then he noticed that you weren’t reacting. 

“Why aren’t you surprised?” Rhysand asked. 

“She already knows.” Feyre said. 

You said nothing, and Feyre continued. “You knew and didn’t say anything?” 

“You didn’t say anything for a few months.” You said weakly. “When did you know?” 

“The second I came out of that cauldron. I felt it then.” 

Rhysand felt his own heart shatter, Feyre could feel her own shatter then as well. You waited years. Rhysand didn’t even wait that long knowing that it was Feyre. He waited a good six months but not years. Feyre didn’t wait at all, she jumped his bones. 

Feyre jumped back, shocked. “You knew for years? Why didn’t you-”

“What could I have said, Fey?!” You yelled. “That I’m 90 percent sure that I’m meant to be with you and your husband? Doesn’t help the fact that-” You cut yourself off, you were bordering on hysterics. 

“The fact that what?” Rhysand said softly. “You two make it horrifically easy to fall in love with you.” You said, your tears finally cresting over your waterline and flowing down your cheeks. “I tried. I tried not to. Because I didn’t know if the cauldron was just cruel and gave me two mates I could never have. I knew it was possible for people to reject their mates so I accepted I was destined for that.” 

You sniffed, “my gods, why don’t you just put me out of my misery and reject it right now. I’ll leave Velaris, I’ll leave you alone.”

Feyre was crying. “You don’t deserve to be rejected.” “Well, you wouldn't think that if you knew the thoughts I had about your literal husband but okay Fey.” 

“If you were a random woman, that’s when I’d care. But you’re you-”

“And your best friend. It’s a cliche ass trope.” You wiped your face. 

“And you are my mate!” She shouted. “You are destined to be mine, to be Rhysand’s, to be ours!” 

You looked at Rhysand, “you’ve been silent. What are you thinking?” 

“How lucky I am to have two beautiful women be mine. If you’ll have me.” He said, his voice was quiet and hoarse, as if he was terrified that if he spoke too loud, he’d spook you and you’d run. 

You let out a broken sob, Feyre and Rhysand ran to hold you. 

“We would be honored if you became our mate.” Feyre said, her forehead pressed against your temple. 

“When I first met you,” Rhys began, his chin resting on your head. His hands clasped around Feyre’s back on your left side, he was on your right. “I saw how happy you made Feyre. But then when she was gone, you kept me from losing it on…well everyone.” He admitted. 

“We had only had a few conversations.” You said. 

“Shhh, I’m confessing.” He teased, then he heard you snort a laugh. “When Feyre and you first reunited. I saw how happy she was, how she felt so safe. I vowed right then that I would protect you to keep that smile on her face. But once I got to know you, I realized I would protect you in general. You made me feel so at ease. I felt the peace that I knew Feyre must feel when she talks to you. You are strong, you are sweet, you are the most welcoming person I have met in my lifetime. You had every right to react poorly to us, instead, you took us in simply because we were with Feyre. You never looked at us like you were superior, or that we were your superior. Just equals sharing a space.” He held you two tighter. 

“You could’ve ignored us completely, or been rude. But instead, you unabashedly asked Azriel and Cassian to help you cook because if we were going to stay we had to do work.” His shoulders shook with restrained laughter. He heard Feyre giggling and even you let out a wet laugh. “I realized you were a gem too many times to count. Especially when I fell asleep on the couch and not only did I have my guard up, but you covered me with a blanket so I wouldn’t get cold. Most would’ve ignored me. Then at the meeting with the other High Lords, you snapped at Tamlin and told him to ‘shut the fuck up’ and to ‘fuck off and die’. It was a magnificent thing to witness. You didn't care that he could’ve killed you with a single strike. Which, not going to lie, kind of worries me for your health in the future.” 

All three of you laughed at that. 

“You say we are easy to fall in love with, but you have no idea how magnetic you are.” He said. “I always wanted you and Feyre closest to me, at first I thought it was because you were her best friend, and you were becoming mine. But then…then I started to fall for you. Before I felt the tug. I fell for you because of this kindness, this bravery, the strength. It’s everything to me and if you give me the chance I will spend the rest of our lives proving how I am worthy of you and Feyre. The mating bond was just a bonus.” 

You sniffled again, but he felt your arms pull from where they were wrapped around your own waist. And spoke. 

“I have a condition.”

“Name it.” Feyre whispered . 

“I get to have sex with you both at separate times and together. Basically, we fuck alone and together. I’m not doing this territorial fae bullshit if one of you is actually not okay with it. We are all equal and we can solo fuck each other.” 

Rhysand let out a loud, boisterous laugh, “that’s not what I was expecting, but absolutely.” All of you laughed again.

“I want dates too.” 

“Always.” Feyre said. 

“And gifts.” You said jokingly.

“Duh.” Rhysand said seriously. 

 But then you untangled yourself from the huddle and went to your bag that you had thrown down when you stormed into Feyre’s art studio. 

Rhysand couldn’t help the pout and Feyre whined at the loss of contact. 

You said nothing, but pulled out an orange and began peeling it. “Seriously? You’re snacking after that?” Rhysand exclaimed. 

“Rhys, wait.” Feyre said, tears in her eyes. Her hand on his arm. 

You offered it to them, “I don’t have time to prepare something right now, and frankly I’m not patient enough.”

They just stared at your open palms. “I accept.” 

- Thus the frenzy began.

[tadpolesonalgae]

Feysand x reader: Girls night

A/N: I sometimes forget that I’m capable of writing fluff? Or just a general fic with no smutty undertones and it’s quite a refreshing realisation!

Warnings: slight sexual undertones but nothing else :)

“Oh my gods.”

Feyre stares with wide eyes at the wine seeping into your dress. “I am so sorry!”

She grabs you by your upper arm, pulling you from the counter and up the stairs toward her bedroom. Well, her and Rhys’ room. Since they sleep together. And are married. And most importantly, mates.

You watch as your High Lady flings open one of her closets, rummaging through for something suitable for you to change into. Hastily, she pulls out a large top—far too big for either of you. She glances between you and her closet, debating how long it will take her to find something else that will work.

The shirt will have to do.

“Here,” she offers, walking over to you. “Put this on. I’ll remove the colour then it’ll go in the wash to be properly cleaned.”

“Are you sure? I can just—”

“Hurry! I’ll never look you in the eye again if I know I stained one of your dresses!” Your lips quirk up at her exaggeration, but lift the flowy fabric over your head, leaving you in a small set of underthings.

You’ve changed in the same room before, but something’s more subdued this time.

Her blue-grey eyes dip, only for a moment, to get and eyeful of your breasts. But then they remain where they are. She doesn’t drag her gaze away, and it’s just you before her, in nothing but a bra and matching underwear.

Her hand raises, tracing her finger over the roundness of your right breast. “I haven’t seen this one before?” Her thumb brushes over its peak—right over your nipple—and it’s an effort not to emit a tiny sound of pleasure at the ticklish touch. “Where’d you get it from?”

You swallow, and her eyes mark the roll of your throat. “You know the one,” you reply, surprised to find your voice is smooth and even. “Opposite the restaurant that’s a little down from Rita’s?”

“Ohhh,” she hums, fixated by the pretty lace adorning your skin. “That one.”

Then her fingers are dipping abruptly to the front of your underwear, hooking beneath their seam, and snapping the band against your skin. You flinch, flushing at the intimate act of chastisement. Her eyes narrow teasingly, “you went without me? I though we did all our shopping together?��

You groan, but smile, “Mor’s really rubbing off on you, you know that?”

“Is that who you went with? Did you go with Mor?”

You peer at her, features seemingly a little tense. “What?” You laugh, shaking your head, “no.” The strain seems to seep from her shoulders, and she manages a laugh, “good.”

“Good?” You look at her questioningly.

“That’s our thing,” she explains, “our girls trip out.”

“Ah,” you nod, smiling now, “I see. Rhys is also rubbing off on you.” She gives you a look, and you gently pry the shirt from her fingers as she watches you intently. “So territorial,” you laugh teasingly, donning the item of clothing.

She blinks, once, in surprise. “Gods,” she mutters, “I am.” A surprised laugh bubbles up from your throat and her eyes spark at the sound, grinning softly.

“You look good in that shirt,” she says, softly, thumbing the buttons of the shirt. “Yeah?” You ask, equally quiet, peering at her. She nods, fingers tracing downward—between the shape of your breasts. Acutely aware of the descending path.

“Well, hello there.”

You jump, taking a hasty step back, while Feyre merely looks a bit disappointed. “Feyre was just letting me borrow some clothing since my dress was…compromised,” you explain, fairly succinctly. Rhysand nods, closing the door behind him as he walks up to his mate. His arms glides around her waist, pulling her to his side as he presses a chaste kiss to her temple.

He then turns to you, and you extend your hand—habitual, at this point—allowing him to grasp it as he presses his soft mouth to your knuckles. Violet eyes flick to yours as he pulls away, dragging down your clothed figure intently. His gaze twinkles, “is that my shirt?” Embarrassment heats your skin, burning in the pit of your stomach, as you turn to Feyre expectantly, “is it?”

Her eyes run over you again, and shrugs. “Maybe. I can never remember anymore. More than a few things of Rhys’ have ended up in my closet,” she says, frowning slightly.

“Oh,” you manage, “I’ll wear something else, then. I didn’t realise—”

“It’s fine,” Rhys cuts in, firmly. His arm tightens around Feyre’s waist, both of them watching you with an intensity you’re unaccustomed to. “Besides,” he adds, grinning slowly, “it looks good on you.” You flush with pleasure, smiling gently, “thank-you.”

————

It’s a week before you see them next, while Rhys and you are in the library, searching for a book on the history of mythical creatures—records of the various legends of the beasts that perhaps once roamed the Courts.

Feyre walks in with two plates laden with food—roast potatoes with herbs and something red and spicy looking, a meat you would guess is chicken scattered with rosemary and thyme and some other seasonings you can’t distinguish, as well as some other tasty looking bits and pieces.

You sigh, standing from your crouching position, “I’ll try again next time—thanks for the help though,” you say to Rhys who’s searching the higher shelves. “I’d better get home to start on my own supper,” you add, the food sparking hunger in your stomach. “Don’t be silly,” Feyre chirps, setting the two plates on the table where a third appears at their side. “I could only carry two, and I can hear your stomach from over here, eat with us.”

You eye the plates, just as inviting as before, mouthwatering in its display of aromas. “Well, if you insist,” you laugh, not taking much convincing at all. Rhys chuckles from a few rows over, “good to know if we ever need to tempt you over, we need only offer you a hot meal and you’ll come scrambling back to us.”

“I would not scramble, Rhysand,” you huff indignantly, “I’d skitter and scamper. On eight legs.” Feyre snorts as she settles at the wooden table, cutlery and eating implements landing either side of her plate as she prepares to tuck in.

“You know, I’m not sure even in a book containing information on the known creatures of Prythian would you find one that transforms into an arachnid when lured with food,” Rhys comments, taking the seat opposite Feyre, leaving to take the head of the table. “Maybe you should have it updated, then,” you laugh, settling into you seat.

“I wonder what other strange things you would find in there,” Feyre muses softly.

An easy quiet descends as you tuck into your food—pleasant and simple. Beautiful.

It’s always easy with them.

————

“That reminds me,” Feyre says, dropping you off at your own home—a couple of streets down from the River House.

You turn in your doorstep, tipping your head inquisitively.

“Do you feel comfortable around Rhys and I?” She asks, a little too casually. You narrow your eyes at her, “why? Are you propositioning me?” You flick your hair over your shoulder and bat your eyelashes at her flirtatiously. She stiffens, “no…I just…” She doesn’t usually stutter? “I wanted to make sure you don’t feel left out,” she supplies after a moment.

You watch her closely, pausing. She’s off tonight, something’s strange. “What is it?” You ask, turning to face her fully, but she shakes her head, stepping to the lower stair. “It’s nothing. I just know Rhys and I can sometimes forget other people are in the room, sometimes,” she lies, surprised how smooth the untruth is from her tongue. “Oh,” you laugh, smiling broadly, “no, it’s fine. It’s nice seeing you two be so moony-eyed over one another.”

Still, she looks like she’s considering saying something more. You raise your brows encouragingly. “I…” she begins uncertainly. Then she shakes her head again, and stands straighter. “We both enjoy your company. Greatly,” she tells you, locking eyes. You flush at the compliment, feeling a little shy, waving your hand slightly dismissively, “that’s sweet of you, Fey. I…like spending time with the two of you—it’s easy. Conversing, I mean. I don’t really have to…” You pause for thought. “I feel like I don’t have to think around you two, I can just kind of…you know?”

Feyre smiles tentatively, and it’s enough to show there’s more that she’s not saying. You’re not sure whether to push it or not—surely she’ll tell you if she wants to. But she’s also your High Lady—she’ll know how to deflect a question if it makes her uncomfortable.

So you take a small step forward. “What is it?” You repeat softly, watching her. “I can tell something’s up with you, Fey. What’s going on?” Her smile is a bit sheepish—strained. As if she’s tense. Your brow furrows. “You’re worrying me, is something wrong? Is there something I did?”

“No—no. It’s— You haven’t done anything wrong,” she smiles again, stiffly.

You just watch her steadily, then take a risk. You’re sure she’ll make it clear if she wants you to let it drop. So you move toward her, taking her hands in your own, fingers sliding into her palms smoothly—as if designed for one another. “Tell me, Fey,” you murmur, “if something’s weighing you down, I want to be there. Even if you just want a bed for the night, or a hug, or someone to have tea with in the mornings—I want you to know I can be here for you in whatever way you want.”

She looks at your intertwined hands, then back up to your eyes. Then blows out a breath. “Okay,” she sighs, “fine.” You brace yourself for whatever burden is slumping her shoulders. “Rhys and I care for you. Deeply.” You barely have time to blink before she’s pushing forward. “Differently to how friends should care for each other,” she clarifies.

“I can speak both for him and myself when I say that we would like to be more open with our affections towards you. To be more…intimate, with you.” She pauses to take in a breath, hands loose on your own, allowing you to step away should you wish. In no way threatening. “That being said, if that is not something that interests you, or it makes you uncomfortable, neither of us will ever bring it up again. Just understand we…you’re incredibly dear to both of us, and we would like nothing more than for you to requite our feelings,” she finishes.

You manage a few more blinks, then take a step away. “Oh my gods,” you murmur, staring at her. “You are propositioning me.” As soon as the words leave you mouth, you shake your head in denial. “I don’t understand. Is this a joke? Are you joking? Did I do something to make one of you uncomfortable and this is your way of figuring out if there was something behind it? By seeing if I’m romantically interested in one or both of you?”

Feyre’s brow furrows at your words. “Not at all. This…we’re both serious. I can get Rhys over if you want to talk to him, too. We thought it would be easier for you to remain calm around me, if things went unfavourably,” she explains, watching you steadily; honestly.

“You—…” You look at her, bewildered, and feeling slightly sick. It’s a lot to digest. “You… Both of you…” you begin, selecting your words carefully. “Both of you…enjoy my company?” You ask slowly, almost analytically.

The female nods gently.

“So…—I’m sorry if I’ve gotten this wrong… You’re asking about my affections toward the two of you?”

She nods again.

“Okay,” you swallow. “Okay,” you repeat, breathing deeply. Better to get it out of the way. “I’ve found myself romantically attracted to you two for some time, now. I didn’t want to say anything for obvious reasons, and you were both so kind, and lovely that I thought I could make do with watching from a distance. I’ve never wanted to attempt to split you up, or made a conscious effort to pull one of your’s attention away from the other,” you manage, speaking in a straightforward, matter-of-fact tone.

“But, if you’re saying that each of you has an…interest,” you stammer over the word, “in…also. Then…I’m open to it. To both of you.” Now you’re flushing, heart pounding.

This time Feyre blinks, processing. “You…you’re attracted to us? To both of us?”

You flush more, skin heating across your body as you shift. “I don’t want to be too graphic,” you admit, looking away from her. “But, yes,” you murmur, “I’m attracted to both of you.”

Before she has a chance to say anything, you continue, “and I’ve felt awful about it, for years. Harbouring these feelings—I didn’t want them, and they always make me feel so guilty. Like I’m a spy or something trying to worm my way into your court, or break you apart. But I swear, I’ve never wanted that,” you practically plead. “I swear on everything that is good, I’ve never consciously acted on my feelings for either of you up until now.”

She staring at you, almost disbelievingly, and you wonder if you should have just kept your mouth shut.

“So…you’d like to be with us? You…I mean,” her voice is thick and rough with emotion, “you’d like to be ours? Share our things, eat meals with us, be with us?” She swallow heavily, “share our bed?” Heat swallows your body whole as you look away and dip your head in confirmation.

“You—” she stammers, moving forward to be in your space. “May I kiss you?” She asks hoarsely. You hardly manage a nod before her shaky fingers are sliding over the nape of your neck, pressing her soft lips to your own. Both your eyes slide shut, as you rest there, basking in the feeling of one another, indulging in the heat and the softness and the wonder.

Your hands settle nervously around her waist, one hand sliding up between her shoulder blades, pressing her against you. She moves with your guide, pliant beneath your fingertips, so malleable. Her own grip tightens on you as she pushes further, slanting her mouth as she retreats then washes in on you again.

When she pulls away, you’re both more than a little shaken, more than a little breathless.

“I…would you feel fine coming back to the River House, then? Staying the night?” She asks hopefully. You blink, then nod. You’re unable to comprehend how she’s capable of speech right now. She nods to herself, mirroring your confirmation. “Okay. Yeah. Yeah, that’ll work. Though if you need time to think— Or you want to go slower, just say,” she breathes, arms still over your shoulders while yours remain around her waist.

“Will you—” You clear your hoarse throat. “Do you want to walk back, or…?”

She nods, still breathless, “I’ll take you to the front door, then.”

————

You’re jittery, heart still pounding, when she winnows you to their house, opening the door and letting you inside.

“Does Rhys…” you begin, whispering. “I mean, have you told him?” Feyre shakes her head, “I can if you want?” You consider, arm linking tightly beneath her own, but then he appears in the hallway and you stiffen as his violet eyes take both of you in. His gaze weighs on your linked arms for a moment, before flicking away.

“You’re back,” he greets with a casual smile, walking toward the two of you. “Feyre convince you stay the night for some reading again?” He asks, stopping a little way from you both. Your eyes flick to Feyre’s but she nods toward Rhys, encouraging. You swallow thickly, eyes darting about before returning to his. “Feyre was…well, we were talking, and…and she said—well, it was a bit confusing. Not in general, but at first— I mean, we chatted, about…some things, and, well…” your arm tightens on Feyre’s and you feel heat flushing your skin with embarrassment and humiliation at your stammering.

You turn to Feyre, “I’m sorry. Can you do it? I don’t know how to…” you trail off, looking at her pleadingly. She smiles broadly, then turns her attention to a puzzling Rhysand. “She said yes.” You manage a tight-lipped smile as the male’s eyes widen a little, taking you in with a different intent.

But then his arms a spreading and Feyre’s letting you go as his hands wrap over your shoulders and he pulls you tight into his warmth, nose pressing into your hair as he takes in your scent. Behind you Feyre laughs softly at the sight, then Rhys is pulling her in too, and your front is pressed tight against his chest, while she’s firmly at your back, and you swear you could melt into a puddle of happiness between them.

“You’re really…” Rhys asks hoarsely into your hair, Feyre’s arm looping over your stomach while her free hand strokes the male’s upper arm soothingly. You nod into his chest gently, careful not to knock him, “yeah.” Your voice is raspy but you don’t care, not as Feyre holds both of you tighter, and Rhys presses a kiss to your hair. One of his hands brushes a stray strand from your cheek, pushing it back over your pointed ear, before curving around Feyre’s nape, keeping all three of you together.

Feysand Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @girlmadeofavocados @mali22

[fieldofdaisiies]

Feysand | Oh So Sensitive Wings

type: fluff & smut warning(s): suggestive, smut: in p in v, vulgar wording, minors dni!! word count: 2.1k words request: based on the headcanon request that Feyre uses Rhys’s wings for drawing. I would like to dedicate this story to @autumndreaming7 for being such an amazing friend and wonderful person, I hope it brings a little smile to your face💛

read on ao3

- all rights reserved -

Rhys giggles softly— the sound joyful and so very un-High-Lord-like, so pure, so adorable it has Feyre chuckling loudly as a reaction. Her hoarse laugh fills the High Lord’s ears and he revels in it, bliss taking root in his chest and warming him from the inside out. 

“Hold still,” Feyre orders then, flicking her mate’s ear a little. An almost gleeful grin spreads over her face, her eyes aglow with a hint of mischief. She rocks her hips against his front, knees braced on the bed, her brush tightly clasped in her hand. “I am not done yet.”

“I have noticed that, Feyre-darling,” Rhys answers in a low voice, his hands tightly fisting the pillows above him. He groans somewhere deep in his throat when his mate ever so slightly swipes her brush up the base of his wing and fully returns her attention to her work of art.

It is such a gentle sweep and immediately lets Rhysand’s thoughts wander to Feyre's fingers moving up his wing instead of the brush. “Darling,” he purrs, the low rumble reverberating through Feyre. Her toes curl a little and she feels damp heat pool in her core. The High Lady of the Night Court knows that her mate can smell her arousal, but she does not mind, she actually likes it. She has him fully under her mercy, he lets her paint his wings, said he would love to try it and so they ended up in bed, Feyre’s brush attached to his wings, gently sweeping over the sensitive membrane, adding lovely decorations the High Lord. 

Rhysand has to lift his arms, keep them above his head so Feyre has access to all areas of his wings. They originally planned on painting the backside of his wings, but Rhysand said he could then not see the painting himself then and so they opted for the inside. Like with a book, you open it and a whole new world is presented to you. 

“Yes, my love?” Feyre answers, her tone sultry, her voice a breathy whisper in her mate’s ear. “Is that not to your liking?”

Rhysand only chuckles in answer, slowly shakes his head, feeling the cool tip of the in paint covered brush move up his wing. It is close to the sensitive part but still not so close enough that it would arouse him even more — if that was even possible. Every fiber in him is already screaming for his mate, his whole body yearning to be fully consumed by her. But the High Lord of the Night Court knows that his mate is a little tease, knows how much she is enjoying it and so he lets her have her fun, knowing that later it will be him who will enjoy the fun.

With graceful simplicity the brush moves over the leathery membrane of his wing while Feyre is straddling him and Rhys can’t tear his eyes away from his mate. His gaze is constantly glued to her face, those stunning blue eyes, her full lips, the concentrated expression on her face. She is the most beautiful female he has ever seen and still today Rhysand can’t thank the Mother and the Cauldron enough for bringing her into his life. 

His leg jerks up a little, his teeth capturing his lower lip when the tiny, soft tip of the brush ever so slightly grazes the vein leading up to his talon. He groans lowly, and lowers one arm, his hand grabbing Feyre’s hip, finger tips digging into her soft skin. It is the side where Feyre hasn’t painted anything yet, so it is all good — or Rhysand thinks so. His High Lady raises a brow in reprimand, her lips pursed, but her mate’s soothing purr soon makes her lips turn into a small grin. “Darling, that was too close.”

A feline smile plays on her lips when the High Lady raises her brow once again. She leans in a little, her core rubbing against the hard ridge of her mate’s arousal. “I doubt there is too close when it comes to me touching your wings.” Rhysand tightens his grip on her hips, his jaw clenched when he groans once again, his chest rumbling. He finds himself beyond words, because his mate is correct.

It feels like the room is boiling, both their skins hot and tight with the rising desire. Rhys’s heart is beating a little faster then, his palm turning clammy from where it touches his mate’s soft skin. In the room it smells like paint and arousal and he knows he can’t stand it for much longer, wants to be buried deep inside of his mate. 

Mischief is etched into Feyre’s features when she sweeps up her brush and smudges it over her mate’s jaw, chuckling viciously at the blue line grazing his skin. “Unclench your jaw, my love, you will grind your teeth down to nothing.” 

“You cruel, wicked thing,” Rhys answers through gritted teeth, his eyes aglow with desire. And he knows that Feyre’s passion is just as acute as his own. He can practically feel the dampness pooling between her thighs — he can definitely scent it. 

“Stop blabbering and lift your arm again, I can obviously not continue like that, Rhys,” Feyre then orders and only reluctantly the High Lords lifts his hand off her hips and moves his arm backwards, his biceps flexing when he once again grips the pillow underneath his head and then grins. “Well, then, darling, do your worst.”

And Feyre does, setting out again to finish his first wing so she can finally move on to his other, but not before painting a few colour lines onto his solid chest, first using the brush, then her fingers.

Rhysand enjoys the peaceful moment, trying to not let his thoughts wander too far, and just focuses on how happy his mate seems. Nyx is safe with his aunt and uncle, Cass and Nesta, enjoying a lovely day with them, while his parents finally have a little time for themselves. 

“It is coming together beautifully,” Feyre whispers and smiles, her gaze trained on the short white coloured lines she is currently placing on the inside of Rhysand’s second wing. 

A night sky, she had said she wanted to draw, with stars and shooting stars. 

The movements of the brush are all coordinated and gentle, Feyre is fully focused and Rhysand loves nearly nothing more than seeing his mate like that. She is stunning and breathtaking and he desperately wants to move his arm so he can brush the short strand of hair that is toppling over her forehead out of Feyre’s face. But he holds back, knowing if he moved he would smudge the paint and he really does not want to destroy her masterpiece. And so he holds still until Feyre is finished which is not too much time later. She finishes her painting with the biggest grin on her face, her in paint covered hands now resting on her mate’s belly.

There is already a lot of colour there, but Rhys does not mind, he just wants to see what his mate has done. And so Feyre moves off him, shimmies backwards until Rhys has enough space to move of the bed, and he strolls towards the mirror. Feyre stays, kneeling on the bed, her gaze following her mate, momentarily dropping to the very obvious hint of his arousal that shows through his thin sleeping pants. She has to grin to herself. 

Standing in front of mirror in all his powerful glory, Rhysand flares his wings. They look majestic behind his broad shoulders. The High Lord looks at Feyre’s work of art in utter admiration — it is stunning and absolutely artistic. Glancing over his shoulder at his mate, Rhysand immediately gets an idea on how to repay her for it. His gaze lands on her hands braced on the lower bedframe and he knows what he wants to do. “Stay like that, darling. Only lift your butt a little for me.”

From the lower end of the bed you have the perfect view into the mirror and Rhysand thinks that he will enjoy nothing more than watching the masterpiece on his wings while making love to his mate. He raises his brow, smirking a little and sends her a mental image. Feyre understands immediately what he is aiming at. And Gods, she loves the idea already, having craved her mate for the past hours she has been painting his wings.

“You know, I want to reward you for this masterpiece,” Rhys purrs when he climbs onto the bed and moves behind Feyre. He looks at her through the mirror, both their eyes aglow, their skin tingling with anticipation and desire. “I want to show you exactly how much I love it. How proud I am of this masterpiece.” He grins, feline and a little cocky, when his hands slide up Feyre’s outer thighs and he shoves up the shirt she is wearing and thinks that is is very fortunate that she has only been wearing a shirt and underwear this morning.

“Take that off for me, darling, will you?” The shirt is gone in an instant, which leaves Rhys ogling her front through the mirror for a long moment until he gathers his thoughts again. His hand slides up Feyre’s back, over her spin to the nape of her neck and he makes her move so her hands curl around the lower bed frame again and her butt is lifted. His index fingers curl around the hem of her undergarments and pulls them down to her knees, leaving her fully exposed for her mate. Her core is glistening with arousal and Rhys relishes in the sight of her, rosy and wet and just for him. He swallows before sucking his lower lip between his teeth. “You marked me earlier, now I am going to return the favour, Feyre-darling.”

The High Lord flares his wings simultaneously to his hand moving to the front of his slacks and he frees his already rigid and throbbing length. With his one hand he is stroking himself at the same time the index and middle finger of his other hand glide through his mate’s folds, eliciting the most beautiful gasp from her. “More, my darling?” “Always.” Feyre speaks through gritted teeth, her voice close to a hiss. Her knuckles turn white from how tightly she is already holding onto the bed frame. Rhys pushes his fingers into her, preparing her for his cock. “So wet,” he purrs and loves how her walls clench his fingers, how her body shudders and goosebumps appear all over her skin. He makes her come with his fingers once, stroking himself slowly before he removes his fingers and licks them clean, growling deep in his throat at the taste of her — of his mate. 

The High Lord positions the tip of his cock against Feyre’s entrance and slowly pushes in, blissfully stretching her out like it always used to be, and moving into the hilt.

His mate moans, the sound so hoarse and low, Rhys has to call upon all his restraints to not come right at the sound of it. One hand braced on her hip, holding her in place he slowly pulls out until only the tip is in. When he thrusts into her again, his hand brushes up her spin until he can grab the hair at the nape of her neck, his fingers wrapping around some strands of hair, pulling softly. “Lift your gaze, darling. Look at the masterpiece you created.” He grins when Feyre does as told, her gaze not moving to the wings first but to her mate’s eyes.

“You are the masterpiece, Rhys.” It is now Feyre who grins, sincerely and in a way that tells Rhys again how much she loves him. Her eyes are ablaze with passion and desire and for a moment they are the only thing Rhys can look at, holding her gaze through the mirror while he moves into her again. His thrusts are long, almost languid and coordinated, working her softly and making her feel every inch of his proud length until he can no longer hold back. His pace turns faster, the thrusts harder and quicker, making the bed shake and Feyre moan. Her head is thrown back, eyes shut, and her lips part with a cry of pure bliss and pleasure. Satisfaction nears in waves, before it washes over her, makes her clench arounds mates cock. She feels him pulse inside of her and comes with a scream, her mate’s hot seed spurting off her walls when he comes simultaneously, his growl filling the whole room, and making the furniture shake. 

“No, you are the masterpiece, Feyre darling,” he drawls and gives his High Lady’s rear a gentle smack. 

~~~~~~

tags: @brekkershadowsinger @a-frog-with-a-laptop

[dawninlatin]

Crying in the IKEA parking lot

a feysand modern au one shot written for @officialfeysandweek2023

Feyre is having an emotional breakdown in the IKEA parking lot, but luckily a handsome stranger comes to her rescue

Words: 2,2k | Masterlist | AO3 Link

Feyre had experienced many low points in her twenty-two years, but crying in the parking lot of IKEA had to be one of the lowest.

To be fair, she was having a pretty shit day, a shit year, even, but that didn’t make her feel any better as she stared at the scratch on the shiny, expensive-looking car parked next to hers.

A scratch that was one hundred percent her fault.

She let out a pathetic sob as her mind replayed the moment when she’d been too busy cursing at the furniture she couldn’t fit in her trunk to notice that her cart was rolling away from her, straight into the other car.

There was no way she could afford to pay for the repair, especially not now, when she’d just spent the little money she had on a dining table and a single chair for her mostly empty apartment.

Feyre gave the package still sitting on the ground a kick in frustration. «Fucking useless piece of shit!»

«Are you okay? Do you perhaps need any help with that…?»

The voice startled her, and Feyre whirled around, suddenly facing the most beautiful man she had ever seen. He looked at her with a mix of concern and curiosity, his eyes so blue they almost seemed violet.

«I’m fine,» Feyre answered a little too quickly, plastering on a fake smile and pretending her face wasn’t all puffy and red. She’d gotten so used to telling this lie lately, it came on autopilot.

Unfortunately, the stranger wasn’t a complete idiot, and didn’t buy her lie. The few tears still running down her cheeks probably didn’t help either. «So crying in the middle of a parking lot is just something you do for fun?» The question was accompanied by a perfectly raised eyebrow. 

Smile dropping, Feyre replied, «No, it’s just-»

And that’s all it took for the floodgates to open once more. 

«I’ve had a really shitty time lately, and I just needed to get a table because I don’t wanna eat every meal sitting on the floor for the rest of my life, but then I came out here and I can’t get the fucking box in my car and then I accidentally scratched the car next to mine and I know I should be the better person here and leave a note but there is no way I can afford to pay for it to be repaired!» She was full-on sobbing again, choking out the words. 

When she’d managed to calm down a little, the crying reduced to sniffling, she looked up, surprised to find that the man still stood there. Feyre had expected her little mental breakdown to scare away the stranger, he’d only asked if she needed help, after all, but there he was, offering her a soft smile and a tissue. «So a really shitty day then?»

«Yeah,» Feyre replied weakly, wiping her tears.

«I wouldn’t worry too much about the car, though.»

«Why?» 

He smirked, and it made Feyre want to kiss his handsome face and punch it at the same time. She really should see a therapist or something. «Because if they can afford a car like that, the asshole can probably afford a repair as well.»

This time, when Feyre smiled, it was real. It felt good, after all this time.

«So, did you need any help?» the guy asked, gesturing towards the package still on the ground.

Feyre had barely nodded before he strode over, and in a single, seemingly effortless move lifted it into her car. It annoyed her to no end, but she was also grateful, because it meant she could get out of here and forget this completely mortifying experience ever happened.

«Thanks, uhm…» She didn’t even know his name, she realized.

«Rhysand, though my friends call me Rhys,» he offered, grinning.

His name was Rhys, and he had dimples. How was it possible to be this attractive?

«I’m Feyre,» she replied, completely cool, calm and collected…probably.

«Well, it was nice meeting you, Feyre, darling. I have to go and brave the hell that is IKEA to get something for my stupid cousin, but I hope the rest of your day is better!»

Feyre actually chuckled this time, giving him a wave and a «Good luck!» as he walked away. She watched him in a totally non-creepy way until he’d fully disappeared into the large store, relishing the way she felt kinda good right now. One encounter with a kind human didn’t fix all her problems, but it gave her back some of the faith she’d lost in humanity long ago.

Still smiling, Feyre got into the driver’s seat, but she didn’t start the car. Instead, her attention was pulled to the passenger seat, and the abandoned sketchbook that’d been lying there for months now.

She sucked in a sharp breath at the sudden urge to draw again. The familiar itching in her hands could have brought her to tears if she’d had any left. Maybe she actually could feel like herself again, someday in the future…

Glancing at the car next to hers, Feyre contemplated her choices. There was no way she could afford the repair bill, but no matter how she thought about it, the only right thing to do was choose kindness. What if the rich asshole was having an equally shit day?

That didn’t mean Feyre couldn’t make them feel as sorry for her as possible, though. Maybe if they knew what a mess she was, it would get her out of paying.

So she rummaged around in her car until she found a pencil, then she picked up her sketchbook and started drawing for the first time in months.

-

Feyre groaned for what had to be the hundredth time as she struggled to assemble the table. Wasn’t this supposed to be easy?!

She knew she should just go to bed and try again in the morning, but she wanted to do this, wanted to show the universe she could manage on her own.

Who knew leaving your abusive ex when you had no job, no education, no friends and no contact with your family would be so difficult?

Just when Feyre was about to give up, her phone suddenly chimed, alerting her of a new text.

Anxiously, she picked up the phone, her stomach flipping as she read the text from an unknown number.

Is this Feyre Archeron?

It had to be the owner of the car, Feyre thought. After all, she’d ended up leaving a rather creative note describing what had happened, signed with her full name and number.

The note had consisted of eight comic panels, first showing an overly animated Feyre looking miserable in her empty apartment, then her looking miserable in IKEA, her emptying her pockets at the register, then swearing as she tries to get the package into her car. Next featured a few panels very dramatically portraying how the cart had rolled into the car completely on it’s own, ending with Feyre drowning all of IKEA in her tears.

To be honest, she was kind of proud of it.

Chewing her lip, Feyre typed back a simple «Yes».

Mere seconds later, it started ringing, that same number appearing on the screen. She nearly dropped it in panic, and honestly wanted to just chuck it out the window. She did not want to buy a new phone though, especially not if she had to spend thousands on repairing an ugly-ass car that wasn’t even hers.

Hands shaking, she pressed reply, bringing the phone to her ear. «Hello?»

«That comic is the best thing I’ve ever seen. I’m seriously gonna frame it and hang it on my wall.»

Feyre’s heart promptly stopped as she heard the deep, silky voice. She would recognize it anywhere, if only from the things it did to her body.

«Rhys?!» she choked out.

«I told you to not worry about the car.» She could hear the smirk in his voice, and for some reason it filled her with rage.

«That was your car?! Why the hell didn’t you say so? I made a complete fool of myself in front of you-»

«No you didn’t,» Rhys interrupted her. «And I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to stress you out even more. I’m sorry if that was wrong of me.»

Well, that was awfully…charming of him. Feyre didn’t know what to do with all these feelings swirling inside her. Especially not after living on autopilot for so long.

«Just tell me how much I owe you,» Feyre sighed. 

«How about you let me help you build that furniture, and we’ll call it even?»

«What? That’s ridiculous!» There had to be something seriously wrong with this guy, if he thought getting to help her with her furniture would make them even.

«Text me your address, and I’ll be there in thirty. With pizza.» 

And then he just hung up.

-

Exactly thirty minutes later, Feyre opened her front door to find Rhys on the other side, pizza in hand and a panty-dropping smile on his face. «Hello, Feyre, darling.»

«Ugh, just get in.» She was too hungry to bother with pleasantries. 

He followed her into the kitchen area, setting the pizza on the counter. Feyre busied herself with getting a glass of water, trying to not let her embarrassment show as he took in the space. She really hadn’t been kidding when she’d said it was all empty.

Well, apart from the still-not-assembled table.

When she looked up, though, he was looking at her, not the empty space. 

«Just so we’re clear, I have no ulterior motives in doing this,» Rhys spoke, all serious. His gaze so intense she couldn’t look away.

«I’m not gonna deny that I find you very attractive, and I would love to take you on a date some day, but right now, what I think we both need the most, is a friend.» 

Her chest ached at the pain she glimpsed in his violet eyes, a fellow lost soul. Maybe he was just as lonely, just as broken, despite the easy smiles? Feyre smiled faintly, thinking that she wouldn’t mind a friend right now.

Then Rhys opened his mouth again, and the moment was ruined. «And we both know you find me incredibly handsome because duh,» he gestured to his face, and Feyre scowled, flipping him off.

«Are you even qualified to build furniture?» Feyre asked, all serious. If he turned out to be excellent at this she would lose it.

«Are you kidding me? My great-great-grandfather was Swedish. I’ll show you my family tree to prove it.»

«You’re such a prick!» Feyre exclaimed, smacking his arm, but she was laughing as she did it.

This was gonna end in disaster.

-

«You’re even worse at this than I am!»

«I swear, there has to be something wrong with this table!»

The puzzled expression on Rhys’ face as he sat with the final leg of the table in his hand and seemingly no where to put it made Feyre laugh so hard her stomach hurt a little.

They hadn’t gotten much further from where Feyre had been before Rhys showed up to help her.

«I don’t understand…There are four legs, and four corners, so why won’t it fit?!» 

«Let me have a look,» Feyre chuckled, leaning into Rhys’ space to study the instructions once more.

As she reached forward to turn back a page, her hand brushed against his, and she let out a quiet gasp at the contact. He was so close she could feel the warmth emanating from him. 

Neither of them moved for a moment, the tension between them nearly tangible. 

Then Feyre turned her head, slowly, finding his eyes already locked on her, his gaze intense. It would be so easy to just lean in and kiss him, taste him.

Surprisingly, a part of her wanted to. Feyre knew she could be oblivious, but one had to be a complete idiot to not feel the chemistry between them, the spark that had been there from the very first moment.

Her life was too much of a mess at the moment, though. She needed to get her head above water first, needed more time to heal the wounds from her previous disaster of a relationship.

So Feyre pulled away, swiftly ending the moment. She could sense a shift in Rhys as well, but where she’d expected disappointment, maybe even annoyance, she only found a quiet, patient calm, the soft smile on his face telling her he understood, and he was willing to wait, but if she one day was ready, he would be there.

«I may have lied when I said I was a pro at this…»

«I knew it!»

Feyre gave Rhys a smile of her own, so grateful that he didn’t make things awkward after her subtle rejection. She hoped he could see the words she couldn’t voice quite yet.

I want to, I really do, but I’m not ready.

I haven’t had this much fun in ages.

You’ve made me feel alive again.

Having him as her friend would have to be enough.

For now.

A/N: don't ask about the header i was feeling creative today...

ANYWAY I have returned from the dead (I just started college) to give you this:):) I also actually had a beta reader this time, so kudos to my roommate! I'm sorry for making you read this and watch glee with me at the same time<3<3<3 Feel free to reblog, leave a comment or drop by my ask box, I love attention:)

Taglist: @ireallyshouldsleeprn @rowaelinismyotp

I keep a separate taglist for each ship, so let me know if you want to be added to any of them!

[shadowisles-writes]

ACOTAR Writing Circle Masterlist

Posting dates: 1: August 13th; 2: August 27th; 3: September 10th

smut = *

Gwynriel

Inked Lillies, part 2, part 3 @headcanonheadcase (shadowsingerofnight, ofduskanddreams)

The Capri-Sun Girl, part 2*, part 3 @ofduskanddreams (headcanonheadcase, hlizr50)

Delectable, part 2, part 3 @hlizr50 (violet-shadows, thehaemanthus)

Elucien

We Could Pretend to Form an Attachment, part 2, part 3 @velidewrites (the-lonelybarricade, azrielshadowssing)

The Leap of Faith, part 2, part 3 @shadowsingerofnight (ofduskanddreams, velidewrites)

Tethered, part 2, part 3 @azrielshadowssing (velidewrites, shadowsingerofnight)

Nessian

Measuring up., part 2, part 3* @violet-shadows (thehaemanthus, headcanonheadcase)

Feysand

Glass of Your Rearview*, part 2, part 3* @the-lonelybarricade (azrielshadowssing, violet-shadows)

Haves and Have-Nots, part 2, part 3 @thehaemanthus (hlizr50, the-lonelybarricade)

[starswhogaze]

Happy Solstice ✨💜

May you all be blessed and cozy on the longest night of the year🕯

[sarahjswift]

Juie - Feysand Oneshot

Hello everyone! I apologize for none of my usual fanfic updates this week. Unfortuantately, a lot of this summer will be like that, including next week. I also thought I'd take a break and do some new stuff, like oneshots - which I have LOVED doing. There's no pressure to make a huge plotline, and I just love writing happy fluff.

As y'all probably know, I'm mostly a Throne of Glass girly, but I though I'd switch it up with some ACOTAR, which I also love. HOWEVER, because Feysand isn't AS MUCH - it still is, just smaller - of my baby as Rowaelin is, this writing isn't the best but - what ya gonna do, you know?

I hope you enjoyed! Tell me if you'd like to be added to the tag list or if you'd like to see more ACOTAR fics! If you have requests for a couple fic, just message me or comment :)

Warnings: Smut

Word Count: 1.1k

Enjoy!

--

No matter how hard she tried, Feyre’s painting just looked wrong. 

She cocked her head and chewed on the wooden end of her paintbrush as she surveyed her half-finished painting. It was supposed to be an abstract portrait of her family, the Night Court Inner Circle. It wasn’t to show her family’s true faces and bodies, but a blur of colors and shapes. In Feyre’s original vision, which had come to her in the middle of breakfast, the painting would leave viewers a bit spooked, or intrigued. She’d hoped to convey her loved ones' traumas through the paint, but it wasn’t working. Although the painting was beautiful, it just felt…flat.

Heaving a sigh, Feyre checked the clock on the wall of her studio. It was time to meet her mate and son for dinner. She packed up her supplies and waved at Ressina as she stepped out into the warm Velaris air. It was early summer, and the Square was filled with laughing people shopping. The sight filled her chest with buoyant joy. We did this, she thought to herself as she made her way to her home. 

She stepped through her threshold, shutting the heavy door behind her. “I’m home!” she called throughout the house. She smiled as she heard giggling around the corner, and she turned to see her five year old son running down the stairs to her. Nyx squeezed her tight, and Feyre picked him up and twirled him around, taking a deep breath of his perfect scent, made up of baby soap and stars. 

“Where’s your dad, baby?” she asked him, setting him down. Nyx’s black brows scrunched together adorably as he wracked his tiny mind. 

“Uhmmmmm…..,” he frowned. “Daddy said that…I think that he said he would meet us at the rest-y-raunt.” Nyx was still learning pronunciations for big words, which was so precious it made her heart burst.

“Oh - is that so?” Feyre raised an eyebrow. “Hmm. Well! Are you dressed for dinner, baby?” 

Nyx nodded, gesturing proudly to his boxers and huge gray shirt that smelled strongly of Cassian - the little boy worshiped his uncle and wanted to be him when he grew up. Although it certainly wasn't a proper dress code for the fancy new restaurant they were going to, Feyre had no problem with her son’s attire. She herself was wearing a white wool sweater and black leggings, her hair pulled into her usual braid.

The mother and son traveled through the streets of Velaris, hand in hand. People smiled and waved to them, forever adoring of the two who saved their world and the loveable child born from the union. Finally, they reached the huge building that they would dine at - Juie. Nyx was exhausted from the fifteen minute walk and his hunger, and was wining and dragging his feet. Feyre pulled him into the restaurant, searching for her husband. And there he was. 

Rhysand, standing with his hands in his pockets in the corner of the restaurant. He was dressed in his usual black attire, his hair effortlessly styled. As if sensing her eyes on him, he turned around to face them, and smiled. It lit up his whole beautiful face. 

Gods, would there ever be a day when his face didn’t make her heart tighten?

No, there won’t be, my Feyre darling. Rhysand’s voice slid into her mind, making her smile and instantly let him through her shields. 

Prick, she shot down the bond, and advanced toward him. He sped to them too fast to be casual, and she bit back a grin as he reached them. 

“Hello, family!” he cried happily, picking up his son and planting a kiss on Feyre’s lips. His hand grazed her arm before pulling it back to twirl a squealing Nyx around. 

___

Soon, they had been seated and were digging into a steak meal. Every taste exploded with flavor, and Feyre made a mental note to take her sisters and Mor out here one day. 

“How was your day, darling?” Rhys asked her, Nyx busy eating and coloring. He looked at her over their son’s head, smiling.

“It was alright,” Feyre shrugged, taking a sip of the iced tea she'd ordered(it was especially refreshing). “Do you remember that painting I told you about?”

“The Inner Circle one? It was abstract, right?”

“Yes, exactly. Only I can’t get it right. Something’s off. It doesn’t have the life I want it to have.” 

“Oh.” Rhys frowned and looked down at his plate, clearly wracking his brain for an artsy response. It made Feyre’s heart warm - her husband didn’t know a lot about painting, but he tried for her. “Maybe it’s the setting?” 

“Actually, maybe I could use a change of scenery,” Feyre replied, toying with the idea in her head. “I could continue at the house, but then I’d have other distractions-” she subtly motioned to Nyx, “around.”

“I’ll take Nyx out tomorrow. Give you some peace and quiet,” her mate offered, biting into his steak. She smiled at him. 

“Thank you, Rhys.”

___

Later that night, Nyx was long asleep and Rhys and Feyre were laying together, reading. Feyre sipped on some hot peppermint tea, and in her soft gray pajama set, she was perfectly relaxed. Even more so as her mate slid an arm around her, kissing down her neck. 

She set down her book, and laughing softly, turned to kiss Rhysand, his lips warm and gentle. She wound her fingers in his hair as he slid a hand down her leg. Maybe the pajama set would have to go. 

Sure enough, within minutes they were both fully unclothed. Feyre panted as Rhys slid his fingertips lightly down her stomach, so close to what she wanted. He met her gaze, his eyes near-black, as he circled around her spot of need. She made a small sound at the back of her throat, the sight of him there nearly making her explode. She arched into his fingers as he finally put them where she needed, gripping the bedsheets with her fists. 

When Rhys added his tongue to where his fingers were, she couldn’t take it and moaned as she finished, her mate making sure she enjoyed every second of it. He leaned back up to her, kissing her deeply. Finally, he pushed gently into her, filling every part of her. They clutched each other as they moved, Feyre pulling him into bruising kisses one after another. She tugged on his hair, biting his lip, cupping his neck, until he roared, taking her over the edge with him. 

They lay there together for a while, both panting. “I love you, Feyre,” Rhys whispered into her neck. 

“I love you too, Rhys.”

Tag List <33:

@backtobl4ck, @aelinchocolatelover, @renxzs, @blue-bird17, @autumnbabylon, and @luell1q!

Thank you for reading!

[shallyne]

Drunk Fey

Little fic, enjoy. I wanted her to be a bit chaotic.

Words: 874

TW: none

Feyre is drunk and it's just fluff of Rhys putting her to bed.

Feyre was the only thing that kept Rhys sane while Amren and Cassian had a screaming match about sports. Not because she was there for Rhys or because she tired to calm Cassian and Amren down but because she was so drunk that every thought was written on her face. Rhys didn't need to check the bond to know what Feyre felt, he already knew. She turned her head to Cassian when he yelled at Amren and then turned her head to Amren when she yelled back at Cassian. The confusion on her face when they yelled over each other was enough to make Rhys want to laugh. Feyre sat on the floor in front of the coffee table, an empty wine bottle tucked between her crossed legs. The blue sweater that was clean an hour ago hung loosely over one shoulder, a red spot on her sleeve and the seam of her sweater. A strand of hair found its way out of her braid when she had scratched her head in confusion. 

Feyre laughed at Cassian making a joke about Amren's height, which turned into a shocked expression when Amren looked at her. She held a hand over her mouth and muttered "Sorry." She sounded so sad that Rhys instinctively wanted to grab her and pull her into a hug. Amren looked back at Cassian and threw a bunch of curses at him, that had Feyre raising her eyebrows. When Amren mentioned the sky and pointed upwards, Feyre looked at the ceiling. Confused at why she couldn't see the sky. 

"Rhys!" Cassian snapped his fingers in front of Rhys's face. Rhys looked at his brother, shifting his attention away from his mate, and asked "What?" 

"I said I'm going home! It's late." Cassian said. He looked at Feyre and smiled "You should get her to bed, too." 

"That girl is wasted." Amren said as she walked past him. "Good night, Rhysand." 

"Please don't rip each apart on your way out." Rhys told them. Cassian snorted as he ruffled Rhys's hair "She can try. Nighty!" 

Amren grumbled something that made Cassian chuckle and they continued their bickering as they walked out. Rhys emptied his glass and put it on the table before him, then walked over to Feyre. "Alright, bedtime, Feyre Darling."

"Where are they going?" she asked. "The night isn't over, it just starts!" 

Rhys laughed and helped Feyre on her feet. She leaned against him, sighing. "I'm tired." Rhys pressed a kiss to her temple and picked her up, winnowing her to their bedroom. She giggled as Rhys sat her down on the bed. When Rhys took a step back, Feyre gripped his wrists and grinned up "Rhys!" she said, dragging his name long. Rhys chuckled "No Feyre, not tonight." he told her. Her grin turned into a frown but she let go. Rhys walked over to their closet and pulled out one of Feyres nightgowns. When he turned back around, she was tangled in her sweater, that she already put half off. 

Rhys smiled and helped her fully out of the sweater and helped her into the nightgown. Then she shrugged off her pants and socks and let herself fall in the bed. "Not yet, Feyre Darling." Rhys said and pulled her up again. She groaned, annoyed but let him pull her into the bathroom. Rhys put off her makeup and to his surprise she let him, wordlessly. She just smiled up at him when he was done with it and he pressed a toothbrush into her hand. 

Because Rhys knew Feyre would stop every ten seconds to say something if he wouldn't do it with her, they brushed their teeth together. 

She then threw her toothbrush on the sink and asked "Can I go to bed now?" 

"Yes." Rhys said. She smiled brightly and hurried back into the bedroom. As Rhys put her toothbrush away, he heard a dull thump from the bedroom. "Feyre?" Rhys asked worriedly and quickly went to her. Feyre laid on the carpet in front of the bed "Since when is it so fluffy?" 

"It always was-" Feyre interrupted him with a gasp. "Azriel!" she blurted out. 

"What?" Rhys asked. Feyre's eyes were silver lined when she repeated "Azriel! I didn't say goodbye to Azriel!" tears started to roll down her cheeks. "I need to!" 

Rhys's heart broke when he saw the tears. Azriel had vanished when Amren and Cassian started to argue, tho that wouldn't calm Feyre down so Rhys lied "You did."

"What?" Feyre sobbed. 

"I can't believe you don't remember it." Rhys said, crouching beside Feyre. He wiped away her tears and said "You waved at him when he left." Feyre nodded and Rhys asked "Do you remember?" 

She looked at him for a few moments and then nodded. "Yes?" Rhys asked, taking her hand to help her up. "Yes." she sniffled when she stood. 

Rhys tugged her into bed, which was useless because she already had the blanket untangled when he reached his side of the bed. Feyre wriggled over to his side, cuddling into Rhys. "I love you!" she said. 

"I love you too, my love." Rhys replied. It didn't take long until Feyres breath was even and she was asleep

[slytherhys]

Beautiful Boy

AO3

Prompt: Nyx's first birthday party.

A/N: I tried to write some feysandnyx x ic fluff but I'm not sure I like this

Early spring in Velaris was a sight to see. The days were still cold, the nights colder still, but the sun already shone bright in the sky, clearly lifting the spirits of the people. The entire city was still cleaning up after Starfall a few days earlier, but flowers already bloomed in front of the shops and marble and red stone townhouses, the Sira river already returning to its deep sapphire sparkle as it flowed through the city. People greeted Feyre as she crossed the bridge from the Rainbow to her house, where the party had already begun.

The great manor greeted her as she reached the end of the bridge, the marble façade covered in beautiful, lush ivy as well as a few different blossoming flowers that covered her front garden – all Elain’s doing, of course. Opening the front door, Feyre was immediately greeted by the warmth of her home as well as the accompanying sound of laughter and chatter coming from the sitting room. Her friends were already there, sitting and standing around the fireplace as soft music played in the background, but the laughter of her baby boy was the only thing she could focus on.

Nyx was in Cassian’s lap, being repeatedly thrown in the air. His little wings would flex for 2 seconds before he fell again into the awaiting hands of his uncle, who watched him with a proud glint in his eyes. Nesta was smiling as she watched them both, scolding Cassian whenever Nyx reached too high. Azriel stood by the wooden table as he watched Elain sort all the presents, a soft smile on his lips as she got more and more flustered at the ridiculous amount of gifts Nyx had received for his first birthday. Feyre felt her heart warm at the sight of her family.

“There you are,” she heard him before she felt his arms wrap around her waist. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Feyre turned swiftly, her hands immediately cupping Rhys’ face as she rose to her toes and kissed him softly. Twice, just because.

Rhys grinned. “Did you get it?” She nodded and held up the paper bag in her hand, unable to keep her own grin out of her face.

They had gone to the Rainbow a few weeks earlier to a small shop just a few blocks away from Feyre’s painting studio to buy Nyx a custom gift. Ressina had been the one to speak about it, having known the owner, and knowing Nyx was about to turn one. They had already bought a series of presents for their boy, but this one just felt…right.

Feyre groaned, dropping her head against Rhys’ chest. “We’re going to spoil him rotten.”

Rhys chuckled. “It’s nothing he doesn’t deserve.” He said, turning Feyre around so she could see how Nyx now crawled around the floor, still too scared to stand for long periods of time. Feyre pulled away, fighting the tears that threatened to fall. She was feeling entirely too emotional. Today was for happiness and celebration, no one needed her crying over gifts and cake.

Rhys pulled her in again, kissing her softly. “We’re okay.” He said gently, a promise between the two. Feyre nodded once, finding comfort in his presence. A day didn’t go by that Rhys didn’t promise her the exact same thing. She couldn’t be more grateful for it.

She gently settled the paper bag at a little side table, saving Elain from yet another colourful package to sort. Az was trying to coax her away from the mess, since there was really no need to do such a thing, but Elain kept glaring at him whenever he grabbed her hand. Feyre pressed her lips together to fight a laugh– there was something amusing about the shadowsinger bending to another’s will.

“Thank you for coming.” Feyre said as she reached the back of the couch, pulling both Cassian and Nesta for a hug.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Nesta replied softly, her eyes on Nyx as she squeezed Feyre’s hand once before letting it go. Feyre felt her lip turn up at the small display of affection. They still had a long way to go but having Nesta by her side as she raised Nyx was a gift she would forever appreciate. Having both her sisters after everything that happened last year gave Feyre a sense of comfort, one she didn’t even realize she had been missing all her life.

Rhys swept Nyx to his arms, taking him to the overflowing table as he kicked out Elain and Azriel back to the couch.

Cassian watched Nyx over the table, his little arms flapping around as he tried to reach for his presents. “I can’t believe the amount of shit people sent.” He snorted, yelping when Nesta slapped his hand, chiding him for his foul mouth. He looked chagrined before his face turned into something else. Feyre quickly looked away.

“He doesn’t need all this stuff, it’s ridiculous.” Feyre sighed, sitting on the armchair by the fireplace.

“It’s a good sign, love.” Rhys said as he made his way back towards her, sitting on the arm of the chair. “Helion, it appears, has sent at least 4 different gifts. Tarquin and Kallias also seemed to spare no expenses. I’d say our little man is quite popular.” He said, blowing a raspberry on Nyx’ cheek, making him chuckle loudly, squirming away from his dad. His chubby little arms reached for Feyre instead, who didn’t even hesitate before grabbing him. Rhys had a look of feigned outrage on his face, muttering a small traitor before he leaned back, his face pure adoration as he watched them both.

“Well, at least you guys didn’t get him anything.” Feyre sighed, her hands holding Nyx as he played with her necklace. However, when her statement was only met with silence, she looked. Why wasn’t anyone agreeing with her? “You didn’t get him anything.” She was a bit alarmed now. “Right?”

They had agreed there would be no gifts for Nyx. Rhys and Feyre had only wanted a small celebration between their family with dinner and cake, maybe a few drinks after Nyx had fallen asleep. Small, yet meaningful.

But as everyone in that room avoided her gaze, she knew they had all ignored her request. Big time. “Cass?” She called, making the male flinch. He reluctantly looked over at her and Rhys who, much to Feyre’s annoyance, was watching the entire interaction with entirely too much amusement.

“I wasn’t going to get him anything, I swear. But then I just saw the perfect gift and I couldn’t help myself. And then-”

“He got him a onesie that says uncle’s nº1 babybat.” Nesta deadpanned, her face neutral even if she was trying to fight a smile. Cassian frowned at her. “And a baby winger, whatever that is.” She added, a smirk on her lips.

“Wait, you got him the baby winger set?” Azriel’s low voice interrupted Cassian’s mumbles. “I told you I was buying him that.” Az crossed his arms, looking as intimidating as he intended. Elain simply rolled her eyes as she reached for a glass of wine.

“It’s fine, we also bought that-” She started, stopping when her eyes found Feyre’s with an apologist smile.

“Elain.” Azriel snapped. “It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

“For whom?” Nesta raised an eyebrow, nodding her head towards Nyx who was now drooling all over Feyre’s necklace. Feyre gently removed it from his mouth, reaching for the bat plushie Mor had offered him last year so he could play with that instead.

“Wait a minute,” Rhys said, a furrow to his brow. “Why are you guys offering my son a baby winger?” Cassian fully grinned while Azriel had the decency to look a bit sheepish. Feyre wasn’t entirely sure what they were talking about, but Rhys didn’t seem fond of the idea.

“By the Cauldron.” Feyre muttered. “What is a baby winger?” She asked the three Illyrian babies fighting over presents. They all looked at her like she was insane. Was she missing something? Elain was fighting a smirk, but Nesta seemed as lost as she was.

“It’s only the best thing you can have to teach your son how to fly.” Cassian leaned forward, an excited gleam in his eyes. He looked like a kid on Solstice. “This one even comes with a security system so that he gets to ground safely.”

“You’re not teaching my son how to fly, Cassian.” Rhys rumbled, before looking at Azriel with a raised brow. “And neither are you.”

Both men started complaining as soon as the words were out of her mate’s mouth, Nyx becoming immediately enthralled by their loud voices going back and forth. She was just about to scold them when both Cass and Az went still at the exact same time. Feyre looked at Rhys, knowing he was telling them something through their minds – something that made both warriors pause, blushing furiously. Cassian started coughing, muttering something about water under his breath before leaving the room to the kitchen. Feyre raised an eyebrow at her mate, who was already smiling devilishly at her. She’d have to ask about that later.

“Where’s Mor?” Elain asked. “Isn’t she coming?”

Rhys frowned. “I think-”

“Where’s the birthday boy?” Mor’s soft voice sounded through the sitting room followed by the sound of the entrance door being closed. She appeared as swiftly as one could be, as if summoned by Elain. Wearing a long jacket over her usual casual attire and…carrying a giant bat plushie with a purple bow on its neck.

Feyre could only stare at her best friend, her mouth hanging open. Rhys was already rubbing his eyes and groaning about headaches. Nyx, however, seemed delighted by Mor’s gift.

“I said no gifts.” Feyre groaned, throwing her head back as she watched Mor set her gigantic gift on the floor before stealing Nyx from her arms. She couldn’t exactly say it bothered her how loved her son was among his family, but this was too much. It had to be too much. Right?

She wanted to give him everything she never had growing up, but she didn’t want to overcompensate. She knew Rhys would be careful too, even if he had to be reminded to pace himself. Frequently.

Rhys grabbed Feyre by the waist, sitting under her with such ease she didn’t even notice until she was already sitting on his lap, his lips pressing against her temple.

It’s his first birthday, love. Rhys’ soft timbre sounded inside her mind, startling her slightly. He held out his hand and Feyre happily intertwined her fingers with his. Let him be loved by his family.

He won’t even care for most of these things, Feyre said, watching as Nyx threw himself towards Mor’s gift, bouncing back and giggling as he fell on his butt.

And when the time comes, we’ll teach him to care for all things. Rhys pressed his lips against her hand. You’re his mom, Feyre. There’s not a single thing in this world that could make him anything other than kind and caring.

Feyre looked back at him; her vision blurry as she looked at the man she loved. It wasn’t a secret Rhys adored her, but most days he still couldn’t fully understand the type of man that he was. The amazing, loving father he was to Nyx. “There’s no doubt in my mind, Rhys, that he will be gentle and selfless. He’s half of the man who saved me and loved me on my darkest days. How could he be anything less?” She spoke softly, for these were words he needed to hear – the man who had given himself to protect the people he loved; the man who had saved her, over and over again and had wanted nothing in return. No, she didn’t need to be worried, not when Nyx was surrounded by the incredible people she had the pleasure to call family.

He was going to be okay.

“You think this is a bad time to tell them we also got him a toy dagger?” Cassian asked Azriel.

…

Their bedroom was glowing with the light of the night sky, glowing stars held by magic as they swirled softly around the room. Every once in a while, the shape of a little boy would fly by, followed by his parents as their twirled with the stars. It was like living inside a dream, one where things were simple and calm and only love mattered.

It had been a good gift, Feyre concluded once she saw how Nyx’s eyes followed the boy with wonder and curiosity.

Rhysand was sprawled on their bed, his hair longer and curlier than usual, a lazy smile on his lips as he read a book to Nyx – a tale about Nephelle, gifted to him by Elain and Azriel. The baby eyed both his dad and the stars surrounding him with adoring amazement, fighting hard not fall fast asleep.

Feyre felt herself settle, a smile on her lips as she watched the men of her life read a tiny book. Had it really been a year since her baby boy had been born? She simply couldn’t wrap her head around it. How they had gone from frantic nights and painful recoveries to gentle smiles and peaceful living. Just a year ago everything seemed so fragile, and now Nyx was starting to flex his wings, walking all around the house as he tried to follow his dad around, his little legs clumsy even when Rhys slowed down his pace.

Time had gone by too fast.

Everyone had left moments ago, just a few hours after dinner. They were all chatting over drinks when the baby monitor came alive, and Nyx’s cries filled the living room. Everyone had taken that as their sign to retreat back to their own homes, leaving with tipsy smiles and happy memories. Feyre had been retreating every single toy to Nyx’s room while Rhys tried to put the baby back to sleep – to no avail, apparently.

Rhys looked up, smiling as he spotted Feyre making her way to bed. “Did you enjoy the day, love?” Rhys asked in a soft voice, his large hand holding Nyx close to his chest as the baby sucked on his pacified, his little head resting against his dad’s chest. Feyre kissed his soft cheek, making him smile as he fought to keep his eyes open. She lied on her side, settling against Rhys as she played with Nyx’s dark hair. She couldn’t help but smile at the picture they painted – both sleepy, a lazy smile on their lips as they stared at her. She would paint it tomorrow and hang it someplace where she could see it every day for the rest of her life.

“He’s okay.” Feyre whispered, watching as Nyx finally succumbed to sleep. Understanding flashed through Rhys’ face. He smiled at her, his hand softly stroking Nyx’s back.

“He’s okay.” His voice was soft. “We’re all okay, love.”

[sapphicmsmarvel]

feysand vs spider

a little bit of fluff for this valentines day 💜

thank you for being my valentines for these past seven years and sticking by me during my random ass absences. 💜

You began the nice walk home from Ritas, you and Azriel had gone out to get him laid. Well to hang out but you had an ulterior motive for the evening. You knew there was a shadow trailing you home because you declined Azriel to walk (or fly) you there. You enjoyed the night time breeze. But he wouldn’t let you walk home without something even though he knew you could protect yourself. You were married to the literal rulers of the court, you knew damn well how to protect yourself. 

You got to the house, Feyre and Rhysand left the porchlight on for you. When you got to the door and walked in, you turned to the shadow trailing you. 

“Thank you.” You smiled sweetly and let the shadow twirl around your fingers before it took off to its master. 

You loved those things, they were just so cool. 

You took off your coat and shoes and that’s when you heard it. 

Your mates screamed from the bedroom, and it wasn’t out of pleasure, you quickly ran through the house. 

Can't be Nyx, he’s away at Nesta and Cassians was the first thought that went through your head. At least your son was okay. You would’ve heard if he wasn't by now. 

You barged into the bedroom and found your husband and wife snuggled into bed, well snuggled would be the word you used if they didn’t look so terrified. 

“What is it?” You asked, looking around with your dagger drawn. Yes, you went out to the club with a knife strapped to your thigh, so sue you. 

“Love, do not freak out.” Rhysand babbled, “It’s behind you!”

You spun, brandishing your dagger when all you saw was a blank wall behind the door.

“What?” You spun back around, looking at them with confusion. 

“The spider!” Feyre shouted. 

You turned back around slower in utter confusion (but love and support for your scaredy cat spouses) and that’s when you saw it. 

A tiny, fuzzy black spider that isn’t bigger than a coin. You smiled, “this is it?”

“Don’t mock us.” 

“She’s not mocking us, darling.” Rhysand, ever the sweetheart, began defending you. 

“Oh I am.” You admitted. Then you leaned down and used your hand to pick up the spider. It was very tiny, and yeah it’s a creepy little thing but your spouses were babies. 

“Open the window, Rhys.” He did so without question. Both of them looking at you with eyes wide, full of fear and amazement. 

You tossed the little guy out the window. 

You reached to crawl onto the bed to kiss them, when Feyre shoved you away with her foot. “No! Go wash your hands, heathen!” 

You rolled your eyes but got up nonetheless and went to the en-suite bathroom to wash them. While you were in there you changed from your dress into Rhysands shirt and Feyre’s sleep shorts. 

You came back out to see Rhysand smiling sweetly and Feyre was giving you a scowl. You leaned over and kissed her pouty lips. “I took care of it didn’t I?” 

“I know you well enough to know you were mocking us.” 

“Me? Never.” You gasped. She rolled her eyes but kissed you again. “Now scoot, I wanna go to bed.” 

She scooted over and Rhysand reached over to give you a kiss, “goodnight, love.” 

“Goodnight.” 

You fell asleep with all of your arms wrapped around each other, even though you’re going to wake up to someone hitting you in the face in the middle of the night, you couldn’t be happier.

[mischiefmanagers]

Rhysand Fic Rec Library 🦇💜

"Rhysand is the most handsome High Lord. Rhysand is the most delightful High Lord. Rhysand is the most cunning High Lord."

here's a list of one hundred Rhysand x Reader and Rhysand x OC fics to celebrate the most handsome High Lord ✨

🌼 personal favorite 🥀 angst 💞 fluff 🔥 smut

by @sarawritestories

The Most Beautiful High Lady 🥀💞

You Looked Like You Could Use a Partner 💞

by @lalacliffthorne

starshine (series) 🥀💞

by @marvelsmylife

Not As It Seems 🥀💞

Protecting his high lady 🥀💞

I think I wanna marry you 💞

by @swansworth

The Handsome Stranger 🥀💞

My High Lady 🔥

by @writingsbychlo

how we survive 🥀 platonic Rhysand x Reader but it's AMAZING

Home To Us 💞🌼

How to Save a Life 💞

by @azrielsdove

The High Lords 🥀🔥

Til Death Do Us Part 🥀🔥

Money, Power, Glory 🥀

Beautiful Girl 🥀💞

by @historiaxvanserra

What Our Souls Are Made Of 🥀💞

by @honeybeefae

Pretty Little Tears 🔥

by @wishfulwithwine

The Great War 🥀

by @leafsandstarlight

Against Your Brother's Wishes 🥀💞

Easy Like Sunday Morning 💞🔥

Welcome Distraction 🔥

Little Reminders 💞

by @cherhys

Anything, Always 🥀💞

Colliding Visions 💞

by @k-daydreams

Touch in the Dark 🥀

by @azsazz

Dioxazine 💞

Lavender Haze

Hung Up 🔥

by @jeannineee

Pining 🥀

Daddy Kink 🔥

by @ughthatimagineblog

love and loathing 💞🔥

forever and a day 💞

by @fieldofdaisiies

I Never Mean to Hurt You 🥀

by @daydreaming-nerd

The Bonds That Break Us 💞🥀🔥

by @hellcat8908

Returning Home 🥀💞

by @thehighladywrites

This Isn't Goodbye, This Is Simply See You Later 💞🥀🔥

Just One More, I Know You Can Do It 💞🔥

by @lure-of-writing

Where my soul can rest 🥀

by @saphirered

The Ice Queen and the High Lord 🔥

May We Meet Again

by @bookish-whore

'Til Death 💞

Never Made A Difference 🥀

by @tadpolesonalgae

mine 🔥

Knocked up 🔥

by @itsphoenix0724

Promises 🥀

by @fanttasttica

I hate you more.. 🥀

Shy priestess 💞

Finding you 🔥

Your love healed me 🥀💞

Just love me 🥀

One plus one makes three 💞

by @illyrian-dreamer

Dance with the devil

Make a bargain with me 💞🥀

by @azrielbrainrot

My Body Keeps Saying it's Yours 🔥

by @b00kdiary

Dreamer

by @solbaby7

Lose Control 💞

Put On A Show 🔥

Testing the Waters 💞🔥🌼

by @luxsky

Kicking out 💞

by @themusingsofacurlyhairednerd

Warm Me Up 💞🔥

Datura

by @starstruckunknown-princess

Black Rose 🥀

by @acourtofwhatthefuck

Needs Must 🔥

With Me, Always 🥀💞

Shrinking Violet 🔥

Forget Me Not 💞

by @lanitalay

At sea 💞🥀

by @redheadspark

Truth 💞🥀

Carry 💞🥀

My Pleasure 💞

Title 💞

by @azrielslightintheshadows

Game night disaster 🥀

Between you and danger 🥀

by @danikamariewrites

Take Them All Down 🥀🌼

Only For You 💞

Pointless Meetings 💞

Pranks 💞

by @bloodycassian

winter court runaway

by @thevanserrras

The Stolen Night 🥀💞

by @thelov3lybookworm

Winter Without You 🥀

Love Needs No Voice

by @prythianpages

Wanna Be Yours 💞

by @milswrites

Out of the Mountain 🥀

by @readychilledwine

Requiem for a Dream (series) 🥀💞

Broken 🥀

Flight Patterns 🥀💞🌼

Subtle 💞

Scream 🔥

Plot Measure 🥀

Drumming Song 🔥

Family Matters 🔥

Pieces of You 🥀🌼

by @clairebear08

Questioning Motives 🔥

by @serpentandlily

Falling Apart for You 🥀

by @shadowdaddies

Heavy is the Head 🥀💞🔥

Crawl to Me 🥀🔥

by @throneofsapphics

if you insist 💞

surprise reunions 🔥

by @azriels-shadowsinger

Reunited 💞🥀

by batboylover

secretly mated 🥀💞

[fieldofdaisiies]

Little Star

ship: Feysand type: fluffy drabble word count: 1,02k words warnings: none summary: baby Nyx's 1st Starfall for @officialfeysandweek2023 💜 set post-canon

"Make a wish." Her voice is like the softest whispers, as it dances on the wind, the cool night breeze caring it right to her mate's ears. 

"I am sorry, I can‘t." Rhys rests his chin on top of Feyre’s head, arms curling around both her and baby Nyx. "Because everything I‘ve ever hoped for is right here in my arms. There is no more wish I could have."

His arms are like a thick coat in winter, warm and soothing, providing comfort and safety. The High Lord is right — everything one could ever hope for is right here. Right here on this balcony. 

The landscape below is is dark, but the night sky is lit by many passing stars that feel like whispers in the darkness, telling tales and secrets of old times. Each one is a fleeting sparkle, glowing and illuminating a small part of the darkness. The House of Wind is dark behind them, so everyone's focus can be on the sky. 

"This," Rhysand says as he lowers his gaze for a moment, "is the kind of darkness I was talking about. The one that is restful, peaceful, soothing." He kisses the top of Feyre's head. "And in this peaceful darkness, it is not the travelling spirits in the sky, but the two who are the brightest lights in my life, darling." 

A single tear leaves the corner of Feyre's eye, leaning her head to the side so she can rest it on Nyx's head. "You are, Rhysand."

The night sky above them looks like a puzzle that keeps changing every second, with stars moving by, leaving their shimmer behind. 

"Da!" Nyx babbles, suddenly, kicking out his tiny feet, his little hands frantically waving when a shimmering shooting star passes right above their heads. He looks after it, eyes aglow just like the travelling spirit and starts to bounce up and down in his mother's arms. "Ma!"

"Your first Starfall, my little star," Feyre hums and presses a soft kiss to the giggling baby in her arms. She looks at him for a long moment, her heart swelling once again. "Maybe, I do have a wish though."

Speaking it out loud is bad luck, so Feyre only opens her sense to her mate, lowering her mental shields. I want the brightest future for Nyx. I want no obstacles in his life. I want him to ever be happy and joyful. And I want him to find the same love I found in you.

Feyre closes her eyes, relaxing back against Rhysand's solid chest. He hums, and kisses the side of her head. "I will wish for the same thing, darling."

His own eyes close for a moment, nothing but the calm chatter of their family and some soft music in the distance surrounding them. 

It is later on, when more spirits start to travel, that Feyre hands their baby boy to his father, and accepts a glass of wine from Mor. 

Rhysand lovingly cradles his little son in his arms. Nyx's eyes are still wide with awe as he gazes at the spectacle above. Wine glass in one hand, Feyre rests her other hand gently on her baby boy's back, a bright smile on her lips. 

Nyx's eyes shimmer with wonder as he excitedly points to the stars, bouncing up and down in Rhysand's strong arm. "Dada!" he babbles, giggling and squealing and pointing at every travelling spirit on the night sky. 

Rhysand's eyes always follow the direction, for every passing spirit he shares little Nyx's excitement. "Exactly, this one, little star, is yours," Rhys chuckles, now also pointing at different shimmering lights in the sky. Nyx squeals happily, drumming his little hands and feet against his father's chest. 

But all of a sudden it happens. Something bright and glowing heads right into their direction. Before Rhysand can turn him and Nyx away it —something sparkly, blinding and tinkling— hits the High Lord's face, little droplets also splashing onto baby Nyx's face who squeals at first. Then he looks shocked, eyes wide, lips quivering. But Feyre is quickly there to comfort him, rubbing his back and mumbles soothing words, while a radiant smile is plastered on her face. She is delighted, her mate and little baby boy looking just too adorable with the glowing dust on their faces.  

"Oh, baby," she says, "did a traveling spirit hit you, huh?"

"And what about me?" Rhys huffs, faking a dramatic pout. But it does not stay on his face for long before it turns into a full toothy grin. 

A whole hearted laugh escapes Feyre's face, taking in the colourful and twinkling dust on Rhysand's face. Rhysand soon joins in, his chest rumbling when he looks back at little Nyx. 

The High Lord loves his son's fascination, cuddling him even a little tighter so Nyx can drag his little finger through the colour on his face. 

"Dada," Nyx squeals again, his little wings wiggling on his back. He is bouncing once again, fingers full of the colourful glimmer as he reaches them up to his father's face. 

"Well, buddy, this is Starfall. Full of shimming and twinkling spirits that pass over our heads." 

Rhys squeezes him, and places a gentle kiss to the top of Nyx's head. 

Turning fully to her son and mate, Feyre says, "Isn't it beautiful, sweetheart? Aren't you beautiful?" She giggles softly, the sound warming Rhysand's heart just like the babbly noises that escape Nyx. The little boy beams at his mother, then once again at Rhys. 

And as the High Lord gazes at his little son, a single tear also slips out the corner of his eye. How did he ever get so lucky?

He blinks rapidly, his throat a little dry all of a sudden. 

"Starfall is proof for all the wonders in your world, but the biggest wonder, the greatest gift, I hold in my arms, my little star."

As if he is already able to understand his father's words, Nyx let his head rest against his father's chest, snuggling tightly to him. A contented sigh parts his little mouth when his eyes close. 

~~~~~~~~~

tag list: @girlinglass999  @autumndreaming7 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @brekkershadowsinger

[surielstea]

Schools Out!

Based on this request.

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel and reader are in charge of picking Nyx up from school, but Az doesn’t like the way the teacher looks at his mate.

Warnings: innuendo of having kids

1.5k words

The final bell rang and children flooded from the brightly painted doors with wide grins on their faces as they lugged on their backpacks.

I stood beside a looming Azriel with a bright smile on my face as I waited for Nyx to exit the classroom. Feyre and Rhys had an emergency shipment at the art studio they needed to tend to and I was quick to jump at the opportunity to pick the young boy up from class.

Azriel— who has slowly become my personal shadow, goes wherever I go, so I wasn't surprised when he grabbed my wrist and led me to the front door without so much as a word.

A head of blue-black hair comes bounding out of the classroom. His sky-blue backpack hangs halfway off his shoulders as he talks to his teacher, looking up at the male as he clung to his hand.

Kids quickly found their parents but Nyx seemed too intrigued with his teacher to notice Azriel or I waiting.

People stared, perhaps it was Azriel's shadows swishing around us protectively or his large black wings, not many knew of the Illyrians and only about their reputations, I didn't blame them for staring, I wouldn't want the Illyrians near my kid's school either— but none of their eyes were on him, but rather on me.

Azriel's scarred hand snaked around my waist protectively and I smiled at the sentiment, my hand coming to his in an act to soothe him.

Nyx's eyes snag on us and his expression brightens. "Auntie! Uncle Az!" He rushes towards us, practically flying into my arms with a flap of his growing wings. "What are you doing here?" The boy asks excitedly. "Your parents are busy so we're here to pick you up," Azriel says, while I adjust him in my arms. "And, we might stop at the ice cream shop on our way home," I add, eyes flicking to Azriel with a mischievous grin, pinching my bottom lip between my teeth as Nyx's pupils practically morph into hearts.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," An unfamiliar voice sounds and my head whips up to see a tall male with a polite smile and finger-paint stains on his grey button-up. "Mr. Lockwood!" Nyx exclaims as if he hadn't just been with the teacher. "Hi Nyx," The male smiles at the boy, then looks back to me. "Nyx talks highly of you," A smirk curves his lips as his eyes linger all over me. Azriel's arm tightens protectively around me. "The both of you." The blonde corrects and I scoff a laugh, waving him off. "He does the same for you." I smile at him, setting Nyx down on his feet, his hand going into mine. "Always going on about Mr. Lockwood, you seem to make his day." I muse and Azriel's hand leaves my waist in order to pick a wanting Nyx up. "Please, call me Ezra." He presses a hand to his chest humbly and my brows raise a fraction.

I can practically feel Azriel tense beside me at the rushed familiarity. I bring my hand up to his bicep reassuringly as I continue my conversation with Nyx's favorite teacher.

"Right, Ezra," I smile politely at him, dragging my hand down Azriel's arm until reaching his hand where I intertwine our fingers. The teacher looks at our hands, at Azriel's scars I realize, watching as he swallows a lump in his throat. I bristle at the act, wondering what's so wrong with my mate's hands.

"Oh—" He catches the glare I'm subconsciously giving him and pulls a clipboard that was tucked beneath his arm.

"I just need you to sign here before you leave since you're not one of Nyx's biological parents." He holds the paper towards me. I skim through the fine details, the form essentially saying that Nyx's parents had consented to Az and me taking their child home.

I spotted the blank section at the bottom that I had to sign. "I'm sorry, I don't have a pen." I pad my pockets but find them empty.

Mr. Lockwood reaches into his breast pocket and pulls out a red pen, but before I can take it, shadows appear before me, holding a blue pen. I looked to Mr. Lockwood who was staring down at the shadows anxiously, like the dark tendrils might eat him alive— and if my hand wasn't in Azriel's the spymaster might've let them.

I choose to take the blue pen, pulling it from the dark tendrils with a grateful smile and they happily whisk away, down towards the ground where they pooled at my heels. Mr. Lockwood puts his pen back in his breast pocket with a slight drag in his movements, as if in defeat. I sign the space with a big looping signature then hand the pen back to my mate. "Thanks, Az," I hum, he simply nods and takes it from my hold. I turned back to the teacher who was staring at the both of us like he was beyond confused as to why we were together.

It was no secret Azriel and I were pure opposites. One could tell just by looking at my pink gowns and white skirts compared to his black leathers— but it went deeper than just our clothes. I was typically the center of attention when it came to social events while Azriel preferred to observe me. I was always talking his ear off while he just nodded and chimed in every now and again. So when we met strangers it was always a shock to them when they found out we were mates.

"All done here?" I tilt my head, knocking the blonde from his stupor. "Uh— yes." He tucks the clipboard back under his arm. "Perfect," I take Nyx's backpack and sling it over my shoulder. "We'll be seeing you." I smile while Azriel pulls me away. "Bye, Mr. Lockwood!" Nyx waves with a bright smile from over Azriel's shoulder.

——

The walk to the Ice Cream parlor was brief, since Nyx's school was located in the Rainbow everything was only a short distance away, still, the entire way there Nyx raved on about his teacher. Much to Azriel's dismay.

"—And Mr. Lockwood gives us a cool sticker every time we get something right!" Nyx exclaims, skipping slightly as he tugs on my hand. "Would you rather have a sticker or ice cream?" Azriel says and I toss the jealous male a knowing glare. "Oh ice cream for sure," Nyx licks his lips excitedly. "That's what I thought." Azriel mumbles and I playfully smack his shoulder with my freehand.

"Can I please get a chocolate cone, Auntie?" Nyx asks, ignoring his snarky uncle. A smile pulls at my lips. "I don't see why not?" I hum and a grin showing all his teeth blessed his expression. "Maybe I'll get one too." I wink at the boy as we reach the shop, Azriel opening the door for the both of us. The worker behind the counter smiles at us in a greeting and I return it.

"What flavor are you gonna get?" I ask the kindergartner. "I can't see," He says, standing on his tiptoes and attempting to peer over the edge of the glass. Without a word, Azriel swoops him up and props the boy on his hip.

"Ooh, that one," Nyx exclaims, pointing to a brightly colored tub. "I remember I had that kind with Uncle Cass before and it was so good," Nyx licked his lips as if he could still taste it. I shake my head with a growing grin and approach the counter, the silver-haired fae smiling softly at the three of us.

I order for all of us, making sure to get a chocolate cone for Nyx, per his request. The woman repeats my order back and I nod. "Your total is nine gold marks," She hums, but before I can shuffle through my coin purse Azriel puts down the money due and I look up at him. I slip my hand into his in gratitude as the cashier scoops the ice cream into the cones.

When she hands Nyx the chocolate cone he nearly runs laps around the shop, but in fear of his cold treat melting he instead licks up the side, the scoop seeming as big as his head. "You three are such a lovely family," The female smiles as she hands me my cone. "Oh, he's not—" I begin. "Thank you." Azriel interrupts before tugging my hand towards the door. "Have a nice day!" I wave to the worker. "You too!" She mirrors my expression. "Bye!" Nyx waves carefully, cautious of his ice cream toppling over. She waves back before the door to the parlor opens and we exit, the bell chiming behind us as Azriel guides me down the sidewalk, Nyx still in his arms.

I wrapped my arms around his free one, suddenly overwhelmed by some type of baby-fever. Watching the feared shadow singer be so innocent with Nyx made me want a child of our own. How I'd kill for a kid that looks just like him, hoping our child has his eyes— or better yet, his smile. I push the thoughts away as a pink tinge comes to my cheeks, I lean against his bicep as we walk side by side, enjoying our ice cream on the hot day.

General Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi @glitterypirateduck @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @fauxdette @going-through-shit @glam-targaryen @cauldronboilme27 @sarawritestories @tele86 @rogerbarnesxx @azriels-shadowsinger @stinkinstuffie @sandramalikstyles-blog @sassyangel16 @lilah-asteria @starsinyourseyes @inloveallthetime @melsunshine @nighttimemoonlover @ireallywannasleep127 @ilovewarner45

Azriel Taglist: @coolepowersthings @lovely-giggles @quiettuba @ilovewarner45 @judig92 @tothestarsandwhateverend @je-suis-prest-rachel @call-me-a-fool @brieflyclassymortal @cherryjain17 @stqrgirlies-blog @chelsiemp @nyxbranwenn @dnfhascorruptedme

Comment a “💙” to be added to the general taglist!

Comment a “🖤” to be added to the Azriel taglist!

[shadowisles-writes]

The College Collection

Hello beautiful people! Since late August/September mark the start of school for many people I’ve decided to write a bunch of little fics for our favorite acotar couples <3 they will, of course, all be in a college setting!

Pick a prompt below and pair it with an acotar couple in my inbox and I’ll write it! I’ll be crossing out prompts as they arrive in my inbox so that I don’t get asked the same one several times. You can also send your own prompt if you’d like. Please add any specific details you want when sending a prompt. Feel free to request smut in your fic and I’ll try to add that in.

I mainly write for Elucien, Gwynriel, Nessian and Feysand, but if you have another ship in mind you can always just ask me and I’ll let you know if I’ll do it <3

You can find the masterlist for the project here.

Prompts are from pinterest!

My roommate has someone over can I please sleep on your floor

It’s raining and I’m holding the final version of my thesis so we’re stuck under this disaffected bus stop

I have to photograph someone for an art project please be my model

I buy too many cookies from the place you work at but don’t judge me I need them to function

It’s 3am in the library a week before finals and we’re both clinging to whatever is left of our sanity

Group project

You live in the building across from mine and I see you change through your window every day

Neither of us own the expensive textbook and the only copy in the library can’t leave the building

You keep reserving the best study room with all the big windows and I’m sick of it

We’re studying and people are clearly getting a little too close in the stacks and we’re sharing embarrassed looks

We’re donating blood in this tiny van at the same time to skip class

You decked me in the head playing frisbee

Wait, I have a competent lab partner?

You’re baking in the communal kitchen at 3am and I’m angry but very hungry

This has been my seat all semester why are you in it now?

We’re both very uncomfortable at this party

My friend dragged me to this party and my ex is here quick make out with me

We go to the gym at the same time and compete on the treadmill

Sorry my roommate puked on your shoes

You’re the student working at the IT center and my computer crashed

My shower isn’t working can I use yours?

The semester is almost over and there’s a bunch of money still on my cafeteria account, do you want anything?

You live above me and if you don’t stop throwing parties every sunday night I’m going to kill you

We both work late shifts on fridays and you always give me a ride home so that I don’t walk alone in the dark

You’re the only one in the class responding to my desperate message about needing the notes

[utterlyotterlyx]

My Tears Are Becoming a Sea

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary - Azriel wished that you’d wake up in time for Starfall, that you’d be home to see the souls cross the sky. The war against Hybern had wrecked you, and he couldn’t bear to be away from you for another moment.

Warnings - angst, sad boy Azriel, mentions of death and blood, some self loathing, but a beautiful happy ending for our Shadowsinger 🤍

They'd won.

But none of it meant anything if you weren't there with them.

Hybern had been defeated, they had won the impossible battle thanks to you, thanks to your skill, your power, and that shattering determination to find the upper hand your family so desperately needed.

You had disappeared without a word just after the High Lords meeting, after realising that the forces you needed lay beyond the capabilities of armies and blind hope. Azriel knew better than to stop you, he traced the line of your jaw as he kissed you for what could have been the last time. He savoured the taste of your lips, your scent, that smile that had the power to command the attention of anyone or anything.

There were no words that any of them could say the moment they saw you on the battlefield, you stood above them clad in your leathers wearing a sadistic grin as Bryaxis and the Weaver stalked from behind you whilst they all waited to meet their fate.

Azriel puffed his chest out with pride, glancing to Cassian with a smirk. That's my girl.

You were a formidable force, bending the elements around you like it was your mother tongue, sending spears of fire and ice through the chests of whoever opposed you, allowing the ground to swallow whole groups of soldiers as you passed by. Your sword was an extension of your soul, a cunningly beautiful thing, curved and sharp, and coated in the blood of your enemies which had also splashed across your cheeks.

His shadows were in awe of you, a horribly fierce awe as they watched you cut down man after man, paying little mind to anything else other than making sure that Feyre and Amren reached the cauldron.

That wretched thing.

The cauldron had broken. Feyre needed to put it back together. Feyre needed the power to put it back together.

Azriel watched as you tackled Rhys to the ground, as you threw up a shield around yourself and Feyre so that she had no choice but to use you. To take everything you had to stop the world from crumbling into dust.

Feyre had wept and screamed as she held you in her arms, her fingers pushing the hair from your face as she rocked back and forth, begging your soul to return to your body. Azriel fell to your side and pulled you from Feyre's gasp, his shadows flittered anxiously over your face and body whilst their master pressed his lips to your eyes, pleading the High Lords around him to do what they did for Feyre, to bring you back to him.

Each High Lord offered a kernel of their power, even Feyre had thrown in her own in hope it would made a difference.

Rhys had held him tightly as your soul returned to your body, his sobs wracked his chest when your own began to rise and fall in a healthy rhythm. You didn't wake though.

After days of Madja fussing over you, she had exhausted all of her options. You were warm, your heartbeat was strong and your lungs were functioning as they should be, there was no reason why you shouldn't have been awake and telling Azriel how much you loved him.

He had refused to leave you, his shadows less willing to do so, they loved you so dearly to the point you often found a couple of rogue shadows perching on your own shoulder instead of your mates. Deep circles clung to his hazel eyes that were dark and dreary, he hadn't eaten, he just sat beside your cot and held your hand, noting how peaceful you looked in your eternal slumber.

Much to his rage, it had been decided that Helion would transport you to the Day Court with the promise that his army of healers and researchers would find a way to bring you back. Rhys had agreed, willing to try anything to bring you back to your family, and had to order Azriel to stay away from you whilst Helion gave it his best shot. They couldn't have a grief stricken Illyrian forbidding anyone to touch you.

Velaris felt empty without you. The bakeries were far too full and the children too quiet. The Sidra begged for your fingers to run through her ripples, to caress her with that power that complimented her own so perfectly.

The world just felt darker without you annoying them, prodding Cassian with stupid jokes or dragging Mor dress shopping, even Amren was missing your feet propped on her lap whilst she tried to research, and Nesta yearned for your intelligent observations on the plot holes and desires for the books you shared.

Feyre had become a shell, busying herself with preparations for Starfall so that she would forget how guilty she felt for a moment.

Starfall was your favourite thing in the world, nothing bar Azriel could bring so much joy to you. The music, beautiful outfits and food were just minor aspects in comparison to the main event, when those stars would hurtle across the sky and illuminate it with that hot white glow.

Azriel had always found himself stood behind you, arms wrapped tightly around your waist and chin resting atop your head as you both watched in awe. It never ceased to amaze either of you.

This year was different. No amount of flowers or pastries could distract anyone from the fact that you weren't there. He should have stopped you, gotten to you quicker before you could attack Rhys and take his place; you should have just let Rhys give his power, he would have recovered quicker, everything would have been fine.

Mor had tried to get Azriel to dance, but he didn't want to dance with anyone who wasn't you. All he wanted to do was go back to your shared room and wrap himself in your scent so he could dream of you, the only place you were alive and chatting idly about some random fact you'd found in a book that sent your mind spiralling into balanced wonder.

"She wouldn't want you to stand on the side lines, Az," Cassian clapped his shoulder, trying to coax his brother to partake in something this Starfall, for you.

Gasps echoed about the room, a sign that the main event had begun. Usually, you'd be jumping up and down in your spot with excitement, clutching to his fingers as you dragged him from the room and out to the private balcony you had both made yours.

Males and females floated out of the arched doorways, but Azriel stayed behind, not being able to think of witnessing a single Starfall without you.

Burying his hands deep into the pockets of his black pants, Azriel moved in the opposite direction to the enthralled crowd, not being able to stomach even pretending to be happy. With no particular place in mind, Azriel walked, down winding hallways and up a set of steps, along the arched walls until he fell into place in front of a set of familiar doors.

Doors that you had practically torn the handles from one year from the sheer uncontrollable excitement to get outside before either of you missed it.

Azriel sighed, wiping the corners of his eyes, he sniffled softly as he took the handle in his scarred fingers, feeling electricity pouring through it, so intense that he had to pull away with a frown. He stood there for a moment, unsure and bewildered by the sensation.

Then he felt it.

He felt the familiar scent flood where he stood, the shadows reacted quickly, darting to the handle and dancing over the door, fighting for it to be opened.

It couldn't be. Helion would have told them if you had awoken.

It couldn't be.

Azriel flung the doors open and his shadows surged forward, there you stood, your back to him, dressed in Day Court gold with a solid gold halo encasing a full braided bun. The shadows reached you first and you giggled as they kissed every inch of your face, and gods, did that sound have him melting into a blubbering mess.

You turned to him, your mate, and opened your arms to him, ones that he gladly stepped in to. Azriel wrapped his arms around your waist, he ran his fingers over your skin, he left lingering kisses in the nape of your neck and along your shoulder.

"You're home," he strained, sobs of pure happiness tugging at his throat as he pulled away from you, looking down into those eyes he adored too much.

You moved a piece of his hair away from those pools of brown and green, closing the gap between you as the sky came to life, allowing your love to explode around you whilst the world above and below held a calm breath.

"I couldn't full well miss my favourite night of the year, could I?"

Azriel pressed his forehead to yours, stared into your eyes and drank in every single part of you, his fingers not once moving from your body, "You came back to me."

"I'll always come back to you, Az. Always."

Authors Note

I needed something fluffy after my gut wrenching Eris post before.

I'm halfway healed.

[hellodarling1357]

Tiny Toes: Part 7 - Cassian x Reader

Hi! It's been awhile and I'm so so so sorry for not posting anything the past few weeks. I've made this part extra long to make up for the wait but have honestly been feeling a little off with my writing at the moment so bear with me while I get back into it 🥰

Also, writing this while being in the middle of an endo flare up was incredibly therapeutic!

Summary: Reader gets her period + Ottie being a menace + family time + fluffy Cassian/reader moments

Word Count: 4.5k

You can read the previous part here

A sharp, stabbing pain tore you from your sleep and had you quickly sitting up in bed as you let out a quiet cry of pain. “Fuck,” you murmured to yourself as you sluggishly pushed the sheets off your too-hot body, mindful of not disturbing Cassian who was fast asleep and softly snoring beside you.

On shaky legs you managed to get yourself to the bathroom, carefully closing the door before turning to look at yourself in the mirror. Wincing at your reflection, you took in the dark circles under your eyes, the pasty, clammy complexion of your skin as you leant heavily against the counter, suddenly overcome by another shot of pain. Turning on the faucet, you splashed your face with the cool stream of water, a momentary reprieve before that unbearable pain made itself known and you found yourself crumbling to the floor, legs unable to keep you upright. The cold tiles offered some comfort as your curled in on yourself and despite knowing that a hot bath would help with the pain, you couldn’t bring yourself to move.

*****

“Y/N?” The sudden call of your name had you jerking awake and blearily blinking up at the bathroom ceiling. The momentary confusion was swept away by the onset of another throbbing cramp that had you squeezing your eyes tightly shut as you breathed through your nose.

“Y/N? Are you in her– Y/N! What happened? What’s wrong?” The comfort of Cassian kneeling beside you and pulling you into his warm body did little to alleviate the pain coursing through you. You desperately held onto his arms as you leant against him, breathing heavily as you waited for the current cramp to subside. You focused on the soothing rise and fall of his chest and the way his fingers softly caressed over your skin before pulling back slightly to look up at his concerned face and offer a small smile that you were sure was more of a grimace.

“I’m fine,” your voice was hoarse and utterly unconvincing judging by the quirked eyebrow Cassian raised at you. “Really, it’s nothing. Just my cycle…” you trailed off as another wave of pain took over. You slumped against Cassian who let out a tut of concern as his fingers wove through your hair, pushing the strands away from your sweaty forehead.

“What do you need?” Cassian asked after a few moments when he felt your body finally relax against him. Shifting so that your face was buried in the crook of his neck you let out a small sigh, snuggling in closer when you felt the press of his lips against the top of your head.

“To be knocked unconscious for the next week.” Cassian’s huff of a laugh caused a small smile to tug at your lips as you let out another sigh against the pain.

“Well I won’t be helping you with that, so how about I run you a bath instead?”

“Fine,” you grumbled as Cassian helped you to your feet and gently lifted you up to sit on the counter, leaving you with a kiss, before he went about filling the bathtub with hot water and soothing oils.

“There, how’s that?” he asked, guiding you over to the steaming tub and helping you peel off your pyjamas.

“Perfect,” you replied as you let the hot water envelop you, “you’re perfect.” You reached out to grab his hand, pressing a grateful kiss to the back of it as you sunk further into the warmth, breathing in deeply as the smell of the oils filled your senses.

You grinned at the soft tinge of pink that spread over Cassian’s cheeks at your words, but he just shot you a playful look before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your cheek then the top of your head. The moment was short lived, however, as another cramp took hold.

“What else can I do?” Cassian’s words were laced with helplessness as he sat on the edge of the bathtub, staring down at you with worry etched across his face. You remained silent, willing the pain to pass as you held onto his hand like a lifeline and stared into the swirls of the water around you.

“I don’t know. Maybe… maybe just a cup of tea? One of Madja’s teas that helps with the pain? It’s in the cupboard –”

“In the cupboard next to the window, right at the back of the shelf in the brown jar. Don’t worry, I remember from last time. What else?” He asked almost desperately. You blinked up at him, the attentiveness and thoughtfulness of the male in front of you still managed to take your breath away even though it should no longer be a surprise to you.

“Other than joining me?” you gave him a mischievous grin, scrunching your nose up and laughing as he flicked water at you with a smirk. “Honestly though, this is enough. More than enough, thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” he said softly, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “I’ll be right back with your tea, okay? Let me sort a few things out for today, then if Ottie is still sleeping, we’ll see about me joining you. Although, with her track record of interrupting us lately, she’ll be awake the second I get in.”

You laughed at the disappointment in his voice; he wasn’t wrong though. Lately Ottie had seemed to pick up the habit of walking in or making herself known just as things were getting heated, luckily, she was too young to understand what was going on and was seemingly oblivious to the two of you spluttering and jumping apart.

But shit. Now that your mind had trailed to the young Illyrian sleeping soundly down the hall, you remembered the plans you had made with her for today and knew you would have to cancel given your current state. Biting your lip in worry, you missed Cassian returning, steaming mug of tea in hand.

“Here you go. Oh, sweetheart…” you looked up at the concern in his voice as he took in your troubled expression. “Drink this, hopefully it kicks in soon and takes away some of the pain.”

“It’s not that,” you explained, gratefully taking the mug from him with a soft smile. “I just remembered, Ottie and I were meant to go into the city today. We’ve had the whole day planned out for weeks.”

“And why wasn’t I invited?” he teasingly quipped, though you knew he was somewhat serious about missing out on time with the two of you. “Or is this a mummy-daughter bonding day?” The grin on his face matched the one that spread across your own at his words; Ottie had been calling you mummy for the better part of three months now and your heart still skipped a beat every single time, Cassian also couldn’t contain his grin and the look of love and adoration that spread across his face whenever he heard it.

“You weren’t invited because you have work today –”

“Had work. I just spoke with Rhys and have the rest of the week off.”

“Cass…”

“Don’t tell me I didn’t need to; I wasn’t going to leave you alone like this, love.”

You smiled softly at his words, heart pounding in your chest as you gently cupped his face and pulled him down into a kiss.

“Thank you,” you kissed him once more before letting him sit back up against the edge of the bathtub. “But what I was going to say was, you had work today so we thought it would be the perfect time to go shopping for your birthday next week. No, don’t groan about it. You went all out for my birthday so of course I’m going to do the same.”

Cassian glared down at you, and you stared right back up at him with a smug grin, “I’m over 540 years old, sweetheart, you do know that, right? We really don’t need to be celebrating at this point.”

“Okay, sure. But how many of those birthdays did I have with you? How many did Ottie? Don’t pout over the fact that we love you and want you to feel special.”

“The fact that you both love me is enough–”

“Then consider everything else we have planned for you as a bonus.”

Cassan stared you down, letting out a sigh when he realised there would be no changing your mind. “Fine. But only because I love you.”

Your smile was short lived as another cramp coursed through you, causing your breath to catch as your eyes squeezed tightly shut in response. Cassian ran a tentative hand through your hand, doing his best to sooth you and offer some form of comfort.

“Come on, lean forward and I’ll help you wash your hair, then I’m taking you back to bed so you can sleep.” A hum was the only response you could offer as you did your best to will away the pain by focusing on the feeling of Cassian’s fingers rubbing the lavender scented shampoo through your hair.

“We’ll have a bath later?” you asked in a quiet voice as Cassian finished helping you rinse out the conditioner, hands trailing down to rub soothing circles into the tight muscles along your shoulders and back.

“Anything you want, sweetheart,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder before helping you stand and climb out of the bath, a fresh, fluffy towel at the ready.

Once you had dried off, Cassian helped you into some clean pyjamas then led you back to bed. He climbed in first before gesturing for you to sit between his legs so that he could brush out your hair. The feeling of his body embracing you and with the constant warmth that seemed to radiate from him, you were quick to relax against him, content in having him simply holding you as you drifted back to sleep.

*****

Once he sensed that you were asleep, Cassian shifted you both so that you were laying down against the pillows, his arms wrapping around you as he did his best to massage your stomach in hopes of alleviating some of the pain without waking you. He let out a sigh, feeling completely useless as he took note of the slight grimace that tainted your soft features, even as you slept.

Cassian quickly found himself dozing off, the comforting and familiar scent of your shampoo lulling him into an easy, but short lived, sleep. A sudden commotion sounded from down the hall and had Cassian lifting his head, careful not to disturb you as you shifted further into the blankets. He slowly pulled away from you, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead as he quietly walked over to the door, closing it behind him with a soft click.

“Morning, daddy,” Ottie cheerfully called out to him from where she stood by the stairs, “want to see what I’ve been practicing?”

If he hadn’t been so worried about you, Cassian would have taken a second to think about what Ottie could have been practicing by the stairs, what could have caused the commotion he had heard. Instead, with a hesitant glance towards the bedroom door, he absentmindedly answered, “go on then, princess,” and watched in horror as Ottie all but threw herself down the stairs.

“OTTIE!”

Cassian couldn’t remember a time he had moved so fast in his life as he bounded after her. With all the years of standing against multiple enemies, fighting across multiple battlefields, not once had his heart stopped as it did in that moment, utter, undiluted fear coursing through his veins.

But the delighted giggles that sounded from his daughter broke through that fear as he watched from halfway down the stairs as Ottie flung her wings out and landed with a soft thud at the bottom of the stairs.

Cassian stared at her, frozen to the spot before lowering himself down to sit on the steps, his heart hammering rapidly in his chest as he placed his head in his hands and drew in a deep breath.

“Ottie?” he could hear the strain in his voice.

“Yes, daddy?”

“Promise me,” he started, looking at her as she tiled her head to the side in curiosity, “that, under no circumstances, will you ever do that again.”

“But –”

“No buts. You will not do that again.”

“But mummy will like it, she will want to see it.” Ottie stared back at him, a defiant expression on her face as she crossed her arms.

“No, princess, she will not. New rule, no more flying inside, alright? Or there will be no more lessons for the next four weeks. Including lessons from Uncle Rhys and Uncle Az.” He sternly added when she opened her mouth to argue back.

“Fine,” she finally agreed but Cassian could clearly hear the resentment in her tone. “Don’t you have work today? You’re going to be late.”

He raised an eyebrow at his daughter. Was she trying to coax him out of the house?

“I did but I’m staying home today. Mummy isn’t feeling well,” he explained while ushering her into the kitchen to get a start on breakfast.

“Oh,” Ottie climbed up onto one of the bench stools and waited for Cassian to pass her a plate of toast and a glass of orange juice.

“What’s wrong with her?” she asked between a mouthful of food.

Cassian gave her a look, knowing he was in no position to lecture, but nevertheless, “don’t talk with your mouth full, Otts.”

Making a show of swallowing the mouthful of toast she had been talking around, Ottie cleared her throat then repeated, “what’s wrong with mummy? We were meant to go into Velaris to buy you a – we were going to do something today.” Ottie quickly cut herself off, eyes going wide upon realising she had almost ruined the birthday surprise the two of you had planned for him.

“There’s nothing wrong with her, she’s just got her cycle,” you and Cassian had decided to be completely open about these topics whenever they came up, Cassian was just scared he might stumble with this one without you there to help guide it.

“What’s a cycle?”

“A cycle happens every couple of months to grown females, they bleed for a few –”

“Mummy’s bleeding? She’s hurt?” Ottie’s wide eyes stared back and forth between Cassian and the doorway, as though debating whether to run up and check on you herself.

“No, no, no, princess. Mummy isn’t hurt, alright? It’s normal to bleed during your cycle, and it’s only a little bit. It’s the bodies way of getting ready to have a baby if–”

The excited squeal that Ottie let out had Cassian stopping mid-sentence, staring at her intently as he tried to work out what was running through her head.

“So, mummy has a cycle right now?” she clumsily asked. Cassian nodded, taking a sip of juice as he leant against the counter. “So, that means there’s a baby in her tummy?” And the sip of juice Cassian had just taken was now being spluttered across said counter.

“No, Ottie, that’s not what that means. It’s just the bodies way of…” but Cassian could tell Ottie wasn’t hearing a word of it as she kicked her feet excitedly.

“So, I’m going to have a little brother or a little sister?”

“No, Ottie, mummy isn’t pregnant, alright?” The scare you had a few weeks ago, followed up by an appointment with Madja and a stronger contraceptive made sure of that. “There’s no baby in her tummy.”

“Oh,” Cassian couldn’t help the slight ache in his heart at the dejected look that darkened Ottie’s excited expression. “But one day she might be?”

“Maybe…” the two of you hadn’t really spoken about having a child together, but now that the idea had been planted, Cassian couldn’t help but let his mind wander at the thought.

“Good because I want to be like Nyx.”

“What do you mean you want to be like Nyx?”

“You know, with a little brother or a little sister.”

Well, that was news.

“Nyx is going to have a little brother or sister, is he? And how do you know that?”

“Because he told me. He said that he heard his mummy and daddy talking about wanting to have another baby.”

Cassian found himself grinning at the thought, tucking away that snippet of information to share with you once you were awake and for when he next saw Rhys.

“Can I go and see mummy now?” Ottie asked in a tentative tone.

“She’s sleeping at the moment, princess. Let’s let her rest for now, okay? Then later in the day when she’s feeling better we can go up for cuddles.”

*****

You shifted against the plush mattress as a stream of afternoon sunlight snuck through the crack in the curtains, but it was the quiet patter of footsteps that had stirred you from your sleep. Sluggishly, you lifted your head to look towards the bedroom door where a small, winged frame was silhouetted against the light coming in through the hallway.

With a soft smile tugging at your lips, you whispered out into the dark room, “Hi, Ottie.”

“Hi, mummy,” she replied in a hesitant voice. “Daddy said I couldn’t see you until later once you had rested, but it’s been a long time now…”

“Do you want to come up here?” you asked, heart softening at the eager nod you got in return as Ottie scrambled up the bed to snuggle in beside you. “I’ve missed you today. Sorry we couldn’t go into the city to get daddy’s birthday presents.”

“That’s okay. Daddy told me about your cycle…,” she made an effort to really enunciate the word, causing a smile to spread across your face as you held back a laugh, “…and that you’re bleeding and that you’re not having a baby, yet.”

“Well, I’m still sorry we couldn’t have our day out together. I would’ve much preferred that than being stuck in bed all day.” You replied, choosing to actively ignore her comment about not having a baby yet. Ottie hummed in agreement, shifting so that she could curl up against your side, your arm wrapping around her to hold her close as she rested her head against the crook of your neck.

“What did you get up to today?” you asked in a whisper, not wanting to break the silent trance that had fallen over the room.

“I painted like Auntie Feyre showed me. And I helped daddy make lunch and then we played some games. He’s doing some work in his office, so I tip-toed past him because I wanted to see you,” she whispered back, lowering her voice even further as she explained how she managed to deceive Cassian. “Daddy was really worried about you today and kept coming up here to check on you, so I thought I would look after you while he’s busy working.”

“Well, I’m already feeling much better thanks to your cuddles.” Ottie grinned at you in delight, pressing a sloppy kiss to your check before continuing to tell you all about her day.

“Oh,” she exclaimed as though remembering something important, “Daddy also said there’s a new rule: no more flying inside. I don’t think he was very happy with me.” You stifled another laugh at the voice she put on when reciting Cassian’s new rule.

“And why wasn’t he happy with you?”

“I don’t know…”

“Ottie…”

“Because I jumped down the stairs,” she quickly said, the words muffled against your shoulder as she cuddled even closer to you.

“More like threw yourself down the stairs before catching yourself at the last minute,” Cassian’s stern tone had you both looking up to find him leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. You glanced at Ottie, who was looking at her dad with a guilt-ridden expression, before turning back to Cassian who nodded in confirmation.

“So, the new rule,” he continued, making his way over to the bed and sitting on the edge beside you, “no more flying inside, or else…”

“…or else there will be no flying lessons for four weeks.” Ottie mumbled back.

“Exactly,” he fixed Ottie with a look before his eyes trailed over your face in concern.

“I’m fine, Cass.”

“She is,” Ottie started, speaking up before Cassian could say anything. “She said my cuddles made her feel better. Right, mummy?”

“It’s true,” you smiled, bopping her on the nose as you turned back to face Cassian. “Her cuddles are truly magical.”

“I don’t know how much help I’ll be then if I’m up against magical cuddles, but is there room for one more in there?”

“What do you think, Otts? Should we move over? Make some room for daddy?”

“I don’t know…”

“You don’t know!” Cassian exclaimed in faux offence, leaning across you to tickle Ottie as she tossed against your side to get away from him, fits of her infectious laughter filling the room.

“What about if he comes back with a cup of tea for me? Can he join us then?”

Ottie fixed a contemplative look on her face, struggling to hold back a grin as she eyed Cassian up and down.

“How about, I make mummy a cup of tea that will make her feel better, and throw in two of our special hot chocolates? How does that sound?”

“Deal.” You watched on in amusement as Ottie stretched out her small hand, Cassian taking it in his as they shook in agreement.

“Deal,”

“Come on then. I need my chocolate taste tester with me if I’m going to be making special hot chocolates.” Ottie scrambled out of your arms and ran out the bedroom door. Cassian turned to you, looking as though he was about to say something before, “Ottie! Remember to–”

“I know. Walk, don’t fly. You already told me.” Her little voice echoed back, followed by the resounding thump of disgruntled footsteps as she walked down the stairs.

Cassian shut his eyes, an exhausted expression taking hold before looking back at you with a soft smile.

“Kids, hey?” you teased, both of you listening to Ottie making the final stomp down the stairs.

“Kids,” he repeated with a shake of his head. “gotta be crazy to want them.”

You hummed in response, the silence settling between you both for a second too long as you nestled back against the pillows.

“You sure you’re feeling alright?” Cassian asked, tucking some stray strands of hair away from your face.

“Yeah, just a bit sore, but not as bad as this morning.”

“Good,” he leant down to press a kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, pulling back a bit to gently cup your face before pressing his lips against yours. “I’ll be back. Do you need anything else while I’m downstairs?”

Shaking your head with a small, content smile, you quickly reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his face back down to yours for another kiss before whispering, “thank you.”

“I already told you, no need to thank me.” He replied with a wink before making his way out the door.

You let out a sigh as you drag yourself out from underneath the sheets, stretching as you make your way over to the other side of the room to open up the curtains and the window, letting in the fresh afternoon air.

“Ottie,” You stilled as Cassian’s voice echoed up from the kitchen. “What did I say about flying inside?”

“I was helping you! You asked me to get the chocolate, I couldn’t reach it, now I can…” You couldn’t help the laugh you let out as you pictured what was currently happening downstairs.

*****

Ten minutes later Cassian and Ottie returned, one steaming mug of tea and two hot chocolates between them that were all placed carefully against the bedside table. “I’ll be back in a minute,” Ottie exclaimed before racing out of the room.

Cassian sat beside you, hiding his face against your neck with a groan as he mumbled, “she is going to be the death of me.” You stretched your arm up so that your hand could trail through his hair.

“She’s growing up.”

“And she’s already a handful. She’s lucky that I love her…” he joked as Ottie walked back into your bedroom, arms loaded with soft toys and books that were place at the end of your bed.

“These always make me feel better, so I thought they might help you too,” Ottie explained with a shrug as she passed you her favourite teddy bear.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Alrighty, now that we’re all here,” Cassian said with a pointed look at Ottie’s pile of toys, causing a giggle to escape her as she settled down beside you. “One tea for you.”

“Thanks, Cass.” You said, taking the mug from him and smiling at the wink he shot your way.

“And one special hot chocolate for you.” He said, carefully handing the mug to Ottie before settling in on your other side and draping the blankets snuggly across the three of you.

“Thanks, Cass.” Ottie copied you with a cheeky grin that looked identical to Cassian’s.

“No, nuh-uh, nope,” Cassian leant forward to round on Ottie who was giggling from the safety that came from you being between them both. “You, missy, you do not call me that.”

“Why not…Cass?” she repeated.

“Because,” he looked at you for backup, eyes widening in betrayal when he found you stifling your own laughter. “Because you’re my little girl, that’s why.”

Before Ottie could jump in again, you cut her off, “I think what your dad is trying to say, is that you calling him by his name, instead of daddy, is making him feel old. He is turning 544 next week, you know.” You teased in a conspiratorial voice, nudging Cassian’s side as he scoffed and leant back against the pillows.

“So much for making me feel loved and special,” he jokingly muttered, referring back to the birthday conversation the two of you had that morning.

With a gentle nudge to Ottie’s side, you gave her a look that had her letting out an over-dramatic sigh, “I’m sorry, daddy. Sorry for making you feel old.” There was no chance of holding back your laugh at her words, especially when Cassian simply shook his head in defeat as he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you tightly against him.

Back in the warmth and comfort of his arms, with Ottie nestled in tight on your other side, you found yourself relaxing further into the mattress as the effects of the tea took hold. The soothing rise and fall of Cassian’s chest from where you rested your head, along with the playful back-and-forth banter and melodic laughter that filled the room made that excruciating pain you had been feeling all day worth it if it meant being able to have a moment like this.

*****

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