Your American fairytales end that way.  Real fairytales end in blood or tears.

Unseelie dreams make unseelie fae.

Think of every fairy-tale villainess you've ever heard of. Think of the wicked witches, the evil queens, the mad enchantresses. Think of the alluring sirens, the hungry ogresses, the savage she-beasts. Think of them and remember that somewhere, sometime, they've all been real.

Mab gave them lessons.

I will love you forever,” I murmured, and he stroked the hair off of my forehead.
I will hold you to that.” His face was grim and his voice was sober—he
touched my handprint of chaos as he said it, and I knew in my bones that it was a solemn vow, and not a sweet or a kind offering of love at all. Green would make me live if he had to crack the foundations of the world.

For it is a true fact that faeries, just like people, very often find that a full belly and a good friend are all that they need to be happy.

You’re here!” She repeated, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs
around his hips. He’d dropped his bags as she’d ran, and now he cupped her bottom in his large hands...His heart gave a giant thump, all the way down from his chest to his stomach,
and as she smiled up at him he lowered his head and devoured her mouth,
smile and all. Her lips were just as warm, and just as soft as he remembered, and her mouth tasted like peaches and cinnamon and Corinne Carol-Anne and without thought he pushed her back against the hallway wall and kissed her and kissed her and kissed her as though all their time apart would disappear in that frantic mating of tongue and lips and teeth. He wanted to take her into himself, all of her, and keep her warm and safe and happy, just like this moment when she
burst with joy, just to see him.
--Wounded
(Green and Cory, after being apart)