@batboysappreciationweek Day Six — Jan 17th
𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: me once again not naming reader's and Rhysand's children, or Cassian's and Nesta's daughter — oopsies. Also forgot my original plan halfway through, so there's probably a couple inconsistencies
“Happy birthday, Feyre.” You murmured with a soft smile, giving your dear friend a one armed hug, as the other arm was cradling an infant. Your daughter.
She offered a small smile, carefully returning the hug, her free hand coming up to caress your daughter's cheek gently. “Thank you. . . I hope you and Rhys didn't do too much this year.”
You gave her a knowing look and hummed softly, the twinkling fae lights glimmering in your eyes like captured starlight. “We did what you asked. Nothing elaborate. I promise.” You smiled, hearing the three Illyrian males arrive from their traditional Solstice escapades.
“Where's your son?” Feyre asked after a few moments of silence, finally pulling away from the hug to look at you.
“The last I saw, Elain took him to decorate the sugar cookies.” You replied with an air of amusement, just as the door opened. Rhysand kicked the snow off his shoes at the door before entering, heading straight for you.
“Ah, two of my favorite ladies right here.” He crooned, cupping your cheeks with his cold hands, making you shiver slightly as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. “Happy Solstice, darling.” He muttered against your lips.
“Happy Solstice, Rhys.” You murmured in return, pressing one more kiss to his lips before you pulled back and gave him a look.
“Go warm your hands up.” Your gaze traveled to Azriel and Cassian next. “All three of you. Now. . . We'll open gifts once the three of you are warm, and once the kids are finished decorating cookies with their Aunt Elain.”
“Yes ma'am.” Rhys smirked, kissing your forehead and your daughter's before he sauntered off with Cassian and Azriel following close behind.
You watched in amusement as Cassian slipped into the kitchen, presumably to check in on the progress of the cookies, and snag a couple to hold over until the large dinner you helped prepare.
Within minutes, every male in the house was beckoning everyone to the living room. . . Well, every male except Azriel and Lucien.
When you entered, Rhysand was practically holding your son back from the large pile of presents where he could clearly see his name written on several gifts wrapped in shimmering blue paper.
Cassian and his daughter looked just as excited, Nesta's pointed look being the only thing that was keeping both her husband and daughter from pouncing on the gifts beneath the thoroughly decorated tree.
“Uncle Lucien to the rescue.” The male with fire-red hair hummed quietly as your daughter reached her tiny, chubby hands towards him.
You passed her over to him with a small smile, listening as he quietly spoke to her, declaring himself as the favorite uncle. A title he and Cassian were unknowingly fighting over.
You quickly settled on Rhysand's lap. The arm that wasn't actively being used to hold your son back, wrapped around your waist and his lips pressed gently against your shoulder.
“Release the terrors.” He murmured in amusement as he finally let your son go, the boy immediately going for the gifts marked with his name.
You laughed softly and Cassian snorted, standing from the couch just in time for his daughter to slide to a stop in front of her gifts that were wrapped in silver, marked with her name.
The two older children began tearing into the presents, Cassian going around and distributing the other wrapped gifts to the adults in the room, before settling back on the couch, his arm draped over the back of the couch with his fingers tracing lazy circles on Nesta's shoulder.
Azriel sat in an armchair, watching the scene with love for the two excited children swirling in the depths of his hazel irises. The corner of his lips twitched imperceptibly, threatening a smile when your son's gasp of glee met his ears, followed quickly by the squeal of excitement from the girl.
They had both opened his gifts at the same time.
Rhysand let out a low whistle when your son held the gift up towards you and your mate, flashing a bright grin as if he had just won the jackpot.
Both children got daggers that were currently fake, but they would shift to be the real deal as their skills improved. The gift had been cleared with both sets of parents, several times before they were even purchased.
“What do you say to your uncle Azzie?” You mused, flashing a grin at the Shadowsinger who momentarily looked annoyed at the use of the nickname, before both children yelled out thank you's.
It didn't take long for the children to open their gifts. The completion of that part then prompted the adults to open their gifts.
You hid a smirk as you knew the chaos that was about to ensue when the Illyrian males opened the gifts from you, Feyre, and Mor.
Mor hid her grin behind the mug of spiked eggnog she was sipping on, while Feyre was struggling to hold back a laugh.
“The three of you have to open these ones together.” You tapped the bottom box in Rhysand's lap that was wrapped in red, as you shifted to sit on the floor, somewhere between Feyre and Mor, to watch the moment from the best seat in the house.
Identical boxes sat in Cassian's and Azriel's laps.
Rhysand raised his eyebrows and shifted the boxes so the one on the bottom of his pile was now on top.
You and your two closest friends watched with bated breaths as they opened the gifts.
It was amusing to watch their reactions shift from confusion to shock, and then amusement or, in Azriel's case, a look that screamed ‘what did I do to deserve this?’
You couldn't hold back your laughter as Rhysand and Cassian held up what had been in the boxes, Azriel reluctantly following behind with a sigh.
Each male held up a pair of identical black lounging pants, though each pair was different in their own way. Each pair had their names on the ass in silver glitter.
Cassian set down his three unopened gifts and practically ran out of the room, returning a few minutes later, proudly wearing the pants that had been gifted to him.
You laughed harder, your legs subconsciously crossing as you leaned up against Mor's chair, so you didn't fall over.
“Yeah, jokes on you little Miss High Lady, I love them.” Cassian struck a pose, pointing at you. Practically the whole room bursted out into laughter.
“Good!” You managed to get out as you finally began to calm down. “Oh, gods.” You chuckled, wiping the tears of laughter from your cheeks.
“I'll give you your gift later.” Rhysand announced casually with a sly smirk in your direction.
Butterflies fluttered in your stomach involuntarily, though you raised your eyebrows, your gaze subtly shifting between your two children, before your attention landed back on your mate.
“Ah. . . The gift that keeps on giving.” You laughed softly.
His smirk broadened; Cassian let out a low whistle.
One Solstice a few years back, that very same gift resulted in the conception of your son. . . The same gift on Starfall the year prior resulted in the conception of your daughter.
So it was, indeed, the gift that kept on giving.
