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#rowaelin smut
rowaelinsdaughter · 2 months
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OUR DOLL
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a/n;; this is the dirtiest thing i've ever written, and you can see that i got a liiiiiitle carried by this... but come on!!! they are rowan and aelin. 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️ im on my knees for them.
WARNINGS;; smut without plot, degradation(?), orgasm denial, mommy and daddy dynamics, overstimulation, m!oral, aelin uses a strap on reader (this was so 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️)
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rowan whitethorn was tired. his day had been filled with meetings. meeting after meeting. he was tired of diplomacy, of talking and everything. the only thing he wanted was to be in bed with his mates.
he made his way to their room when he heard a noise. a slap. stopping on the door, he sharpens his hearing, trying to figure out what it was. another sound. this time a moan. your moan. you were moaning. 
he opened the door, carefully not to disturb. your moans were louder now that he was inside.
“you like it, doll?” aelin said. her voice full of lust. 
fuck. rowan thought. he made his way to the open door of the bedroom, and the sight before him… fuck fuck fuck.
aelin was seated on the bed, her back on the headboard as she watched you bounce on her dick. a strap. aelin was using a strap on you, and you were bouncing like you would do on his dick. your eyes were close. moans leaving your mouth as aelin’s hands roamed over your body. a slap on your butt and the other hand was massaging your tit. 
rowan touched his dick. he wanted to release it from his pants. 
his eyes found aelin’s. a smirk on her face as she stops you, a whimper leaving your lips. 
“you like the sight, rowan?” your eyes follow aelin’s and you found rowan on the door. his dick begging to be free from his pants, and his eyes full of lust. 
you feel aelin on your side, her lips brushing your ear. “why don’t you turn around and beg to rowan?” 
a little nod and with her help, you turn around, your back pressed on aelin’s chest. you look at rowan through you lashes and notice that his shirt was gone, as well as his pants and underwear. the sight before you makes your walls clench around her dick, buried deep inside you. rowan grabs your neck so you are looking at him. lust and fervent desire. you look at his dick, precum was dripping from it. his hand moves to your neck and squeezes it, you look at his eyes again.
“you like my dick, doll? you want to suck it?” 
aelin bites your shoulder. “answer doll”
“yes”
“yes, what?” rowan demands.
“yes daddy” you answer, a wicked smile on their faces.
with her fae speed, aelin maneuvers you, and now you are on your hands and knees. her hands grabs your hips and she leaves a little from your cunt, making you whimper at the loss. rowan catches your hair creating a ponytail and before he can tell you what to do, your mouth is open and your tongue is out. an invitation. 
a breathy curse leaves his lips and with a push oh his hips, his dick is inside your mouth. at the same time aelin shoves her dick against your throbbing cunt. your body shrives at the sensation and a cry falls from your lips. they both start with the same rhythm, your body is on fire and you think you can die just from having them. 
“gods… look at you doll. such a dirty girl, just for us” aelin says with a harsh thrust to your cunt. if she wasn’t grabbing you, you would have fallen to the bed. 
“that’s it aelin, she’s our dirty girl, just our- fuck”  rowan hand gripped your hair as he cum on your mouth and aelin stops her hips. “that’s it, take it all doll, just like that. good girl”
aelin takes your hands, and with a pull you’re on your knees again, unable to move your hands thanks to her. rowan’s mouth is inches from your’s, his hands massaging your tits and pinching your nipples. 
“what do you want, doll?”
“i wanna cum, please”
rowan bites your shoulder and his lips travel to your ear. “where are your manners, doll?”
you shallow. “i wanna cum, please, mommy, daddy let me cum please, i’ve been a good girl, please” a tear falls from your eye and you feel aelin lick it. “good girl… we should let him cum rowan?”
“mmm, i think she has been a good girl for us” aelin thrusts into your pussy as rowan’s hand rubs your clit. 
the pounding is incessant, and you know the whole castle can hear you moaning, but they don’t care, let them know they are the only ones who can make you cry from pleasure.
“i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna-” a cry and you’re coming on aelin’s dick as they both bite your neck on each side. your body feels dizzy, your breaths are difficult as you feel like you're in heaven. aelin removes the strap from you, a little groan falling from your lips. she goes to the bathroom to prepare everything.
“let’s go bath, doll”
“i don’t-” a pair of arms raise you from bed, and you hear aelin closing the water. once you all are bathed, they take you to bed, each of them on your sides. a kiss on your shoulder and lips is the last thing you remember. 
“we love you, doll”
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all rights reserved to ©rowaelinsdaughter. no tranlations allowed. no copy theme. don not copy my work.
tagging;; @shadowdaddies @thehighladywrites @hellwantfuckme
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renxzs · 11 months
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Flight to Orynth x Rowaelin | AO3 | Masterlist
Summary: Aelin’s flight is delayed due to inclement weather. Thankfully she has a certain silver haired stranger to keep her company.
Word Count: 4.3k
CW: nsfw (18+ only), strangers in an airport, slight praise kink, modern au
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Aelin: September 9th
Lysandra: ???
Aelin: Save the date. For my upcoming wedding to the hottest fucking male I’ve ever laid my eyes upon. 🥵
Lysandra: SEND PIC
Aelin: hahaha, uh no. 
Lysandra: Aelin!! pleeaasse
Aelin: I’m not snapping a photo of a stranger like a fucking creep.
Lysandra: May I remind you of our trip to Wendlyn last summer…
Aelin’s eyes narrowed imperceptibly with a snort. Her best friend loved to play dirty. 
Her gaze cut up across the sitting area to the unsuspecting male. His nose continued to be buried in a novel. Of course, he just had to be a reader, too. Gods help her.
Aelin: FINE
Lysandra: 😁😘
Her heart thudded wildly in her chest as her eyes were drawn back to the silver haired male still focused on his book. She wasn’t normally so easily rattled by a male, let alone one across a large room whom she hadn’t even spoken to.
It was just one silly picture.
Attempting to be inconspicuous, Aelin shifted the angle of her phone until the lens brought the subject of her attention into focus. He was truly a beautiful specimen… Gods, get a grip. Her thumb hit the shutter button and snapped a few back-to-back frames. 
Recrossing her legs, Aelin pulled up the most recent photo in her album app. A hint of a smile dusted her lips while she drank in the male. The photo didn’t do him justice, yet somehow was still unfairly flattering. And that quiet smirk tugging on his lips had faint flutters stirring low in her belly. 
Aelin’s teeth dragged over her bottom lip as she sent the photo off to Lys, who must have been poised and ready to pounce. Her response was near immediate. 
Lysandra: GODS FUCK, AELIN. 
Her teeth clamped down harder to stifle her laugh. 
Aelin: I know! 
Lysandra: THE MUSCLES.
Lysandra: THE FACE. 
Aelin: I know!!!!
Aelin: Lys, I’ve never wanted a stranger so bad. 🥵 it’s been way too long.. I’m dying over here. 
Lysandra: Go climb that male like a tree. NOW!
Aelin: 😂
Lysandra: I’m dead serious. You’re hot as fuck. It’d be a damn blessing for any male to—
Aelin slammed her phone face down onto her lap when a low voice practically purred, “If you need a close up, don’t be afraid to ask.” The lilt of his accent thrummed through her in all the best places.
She whipped to where the voice had come from, only to be brought up short with that gorgeous silver haired male now occupying the seat to her left. 
Proximity only enhanced his already attractive features—piercing emerald that banded his pupils, sharp lines and strong jaw, thick lashes that every male seemed to undeservingly have, plush soft pink lips that curved into a self-assured smirk.
Aelin’s eyes snagged on swirls of black ink peeking out just above his shirt collar. His sleeves were pushed up to the elbow, exposing powerful arms—the left one covered in more ink down to his wrist. Her fingers itched to uncover if his sleeve connected to the tattoo on his chest.
Gods, she could quite possibly die. Her pulse hammered in her ears and her palms felt clammy with the shock of being caught.
With a clearing of her throat, she shoved the embarrassment down and grabbed furiously at the threads of inner bravado she could typically summon so easily. 
Aelin leveled her gaze with his then quipped, “Can a female be blamed for admiring the male form?”
His smirk grew as his eyes flicked down her body before settling back on her face. “Certainly not.”
Her current travel attire consisted of her favorite pair of yoga pants that nicely accentuated her toned legs and ass, and a cropped hoodie that tastefully exposed a section of her midriff—practical and cozy, but also cute. Her new companion seemed to agree. 
The male relaxed back in his seat, slightly orienting his body towards her. He reached out a large bronze hand, “I’m Rowan.”
His grasp was warm and firm. “Aelin.”
Rowan hummed appreciatively, his hand lingering against hers a moment longer. “Pretty.”
Heat rose to her neck and cheeks. Averting her gaze, Aelin’s eyes fell to the phone in her lap. This was all Lysandra’s fault. She just knew her best friend would be laughing herself silly if she were privy to Aelin’s current situation.
Aelin subtly shifted in her seat as well, to better see Rowan. She made a show of recrossing her legs, letting her right foot bob freely in the air. His gaze tracked the movement, leaving a trail of heat tingling up the length of her leg.
“So what brings you to this fine establishment on a stormy Tuesday evening?” Aelin asked airly with a wave of her hand to their general surroundings.
Rowan chuckled, laugh lines crinkling around pretty green eyes. “Your flight grounded due to the weather, too?”
She nodded her confirmation. “Orynth. You?” 
The corners of his lips upturned. “Same. Flying in from Doranelle after visiting on holiday.” She wondered idly who exactly he might’ve been visiting. Friends, family—a significant other? 
“I try to go home at least twice a year,” Rowan supplied, as if her thoughts were written across her face. “Though my cousins insist it’s not enough,” he chuckled. So family, then.
Aelin hummed. “So you work and live in Orynth then?”
“Yeah. I took a position back in the fall at UT.” She raised an eyebrow. Snagging a position at the University of Terrasen was an impressive feat. “I love it so far,” Rowan continued. “And Terrasen is a beautiful country.” 
She couldn’t help the fond smile that curved her lips. “It really is.” She gently nudged his calf with her foot and crooned, “What is it you teach, Professor?”
The change was subtle, but Aelin swore his pupils dilated ever so slightly. Interesting. Rowan snorted, “History.”
“Explains the novel,” she said, dipping her chin towards the worn war book tucked into a side pocket of his carryon bag.
“What can I say, it’s an area of interest.” 
Aelin’s smile broadened with mischief. “I could provide a few recommendations if you’re looking to add a bit of spice to your repertoire.”
Rowan’s head tipped back as he barked a laugh. “Oh, Aelin—I’m quite sure you could.” 
Her name wrapped in his voice was like whiskey, all smooth burning heat. Her belly swooped with the suggestion coloring his tone.
“And what is it that you do, outside of your personal interest in photography?” He gave her a cheeky grin. “Surely assassin is off the list. You’re about as subtle as a flying brick.” 
Aelin hit his arm playfully, refusing to allow her subsiding flush of embarrassment to rise to the surface of her skin again. “I work in publishing,” with a muttered bastard under her breath. To which Rowan heard perfectly, if his amused chuckle was any indication.
“Ahh, so you truly are equipped to hand out recommendations then,” he surmised.
Aelin leaned a bit into his space and hummed a confirmation, then added, “But the spicy recs are solely of personal interest.”
Her eyes tracked the bob of his throat as he swallowed thickly. She rested back into her seat again with a satisfied smirk.
Rowan’s gaze darted to the large screen mounted by their gate, skimming the information displayed. A moment later, his pine-green eyes were focused back on her. A quiet heat began to unfurl in the pit of her stomach as she held his stare.
His words were soft when he spoke. “Flight is still delayed for the foreseeable future. Let me buy you a drink.”
She pretended to mull over the pros and cons of sharing a drink with this virtual stranger—incredibly attractive virtual stranger. It wasn’t like she had anything else better to do to pass the time while stuck in this gods-forsaken airport. She couldn’t deny he would still likely be her first choice, regardless.
Rowan’s quiet confidence seemed to slightly waver with her prolonged silence, as if he were second guessing his offer and assessment of where they stood with one another on the flirting spectrum.
Aelin mercifully put a stop to his internal backtracking and offered her hand, accepting his invitation. The brilliant smile she received in response warmed through her as she allowed Rowan to pull her to her feet.
~
Aelin: I’m having drinks with him at the bar.. 🙈
Lysandra: OMG! I demand every single detail as soon as you land!!!
Lysandra: and BE SAFE. 
Aelin: I will, promise 😘
Aelin smiled softly to herself as she returned her phone to an inner pocket of her work bag. Rowan sidled up to their shared high-top table and placed a second glass of red in front of her. She murmured a thank you before taking a long sip.
Rowan gave a nod as he settled on the stool across from her, a whiskey neat cradled between his large hands. Large, tan hands that she wondered how would feel exploring her body…
Aelin tightly squeezed her thighs together to stave off the growing ache between her legs. But the teasing pressure only stoked the flames licking to life beneath her skin. The warm buzz of the wine also wasn’t helping matters, nor was her current 9 month stint of celibacy since her breakup with Chaol.
“So,” he drawled before taking a dreg from his whiskey glass. “Are you ever going to share why you were snapping pictures earlier?”
Aelin slumped in her stool with an abashed groan, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“That was not my finest moment.” She risked a peek at him; open, gentle amusement shone back. “I’m sorry for that by the way.” 
“I’m not.” Rowan said matter-of-fact. “It gave me the excuse I was desperate for to approach you.” 
Aelin’s heart stuttered. 
“I also hoped it meant that I’d maybe caught your eye, too,” he admitted softly. 
She sat frozen for a moment, stunned by his revelation. Then wordlessly emptied the last remnants of her wine glass before sliding off the stool. It took all of two steps before she found herself well in Rowan’s space. Crisp snow and pine mixed with spicy undertones of a cologne filled her lungs. The heat emanating from his body made her head spin.
Her fingertips brushed featherlight alongside the edge of his strong jaw, savoring the nip of his stubble. Gently, Aelin turned his face towards hers and leaned in close. Rowan met her halfway, his breath soft against her lips as they both hesitated for a moment, then closed the remaining space between them.
The kiss was gentle, exploratory. Rowan tasted like the whiskey he was drinking, and she wanted to drink every bit of him down. Aelin gripped his shirt to pull him closer. The heat of his skin burned through her when he cupped her face, thumb smoothing over her cheekbone. 
Rowan tilted her head back further for better access, tongue dancing across the seam of her lips. Aelin moaned softly, immediately opening her mouth to him. Rowan’s free hand had traveled to the swell of her hip and flexed tightly in response. Holding steady, keeping her close.
A pointed throat clearing cut through their reverie.
Her eyes cut over to the lonely looking patron two tables over who was going to great efforts to not stare at them. Her focus slid back to glinting pine-green eyes, and she clamped her lips shut to suppress the bubbling laugh—at this ridiculously crazy situation and the dazed look that overtook Rowan’s features. 
“There’s a single unit restroom down that corridor,” she murmured with a slight incline of her head in the direction behind him, eyes smoldering as they peered up through thick lashes. “Meet me there in 5?”
“Yes.” His vehemence crackled through her veins. 
The corner of Aelin’s mouth tugged upwards, and she extracted herself from his grasp. Wordlessly grabbing her work bag, she slipped past him in the direction of the restroom.  
Aelin’s heart pounded rapidly in her ears, blood roaring with anticipation as the door snicked close behind her. Shaky fingers hung her bag on a courtesy hook before she turned to face the mirror. 
Fiery blue eyes reflected back, bright and wild. Her cheeks, neck, and chest flushed with a healthy mix of arousal and adrenalin. She was really going to do this—fuck a stranger in an airport bathroom. Heat shot down her spine and pooled between her legs with the thought. 
Mind so addled with lust and need, it was difficult to find reason not to do it. Her body burned with want for Rowan—very well might die from it without proper release.
Aelin leaned her palms against the sink counter and loosed a jagged breath. Breathe.
A soft knock echoed in the small space and she belatedly realized she hadn’t locked the door. Relief flooded over her as silver tendrils came into view, followed by the rest of him. 
Anticipation twisted in her gut as Rowan clicked the deadbolt into place and turned to her. She swore the temperature of the room steadily rose when their eyes locked in the mirror. 
Rowan dropped his bag to the floor and sidled up behind Aelin, his body heat and scent enveloping her. She bit back a moan, leaning into him. 
He brushed thick golden tresses over to one shoulder, then pressed a kiss behind the shell of her ear, warm breath ticking. Aelin shivered. Rowan trailed open-mouthed kisses across her jaw and down her throat. Tipping her head to the side, she offered him more skin to claim.
“I’ve–I’ve never… done–” a sharp hiss turned moan interrupted her thoughts as teeth bit the sensitive flesh between her shoulder and neck before licking the hurt away.
“Never,” he rasped in agreement.
Rowan fingered the hem of her cropped sweatshirt before Aelin yanked it over her head without hesitation. His eyes grew impossibly darker, nostrils softly flaring at the sight of her pert rosy nipples through the sheer lace bralette.
Rowan snaked an arm across her chest, brushing a peaked nipple with his thumb and affectionately squeezing her breast. The other firmly held her hips against his, grinding against her backside.
“Never,” he repeated. “But you’re so fucking perfect, Aelin. I can’t help myself.”
Her name on his tongue was going to be her undoing. 
The incessant press of his stiff erection at the seam of her ass had her eyes nearly rolling in the back of her head. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted more, more, more. 
His arms tightened as she attempted to turn, holding her in place to face the mirror. 
“Rowan,” she ground out in frustration. 
Rowan tutted at her, wrapping his left hand around her throat to apply light pressure while the right wandered down the flat plane of her stomach. “Patience, sweetheart.” His fingers inched closer, barely dipping below the waistline of her pants, taunting.
The tension tightly coiling low in her gut was unbearable. Aelin gripped the wrist of his teasing hand, nails biting into tan skin. Her hips instinctively rolled, seeking his touch, but he didn’t budge. 
“Please,” she whimpered, and he nibbled at her earlobe in response. Gods, she was going to lose her ever-loving mind. “Rowan, please please touch me.”
His fingers tightened the slightest bit around her throat. Piercing green pinned her in place through the mirror’s reflection, his smile purely predatory. “Now how can I resist such pretty begging?”
Aelin swallowed thickly, eyes following the descent of his hand. 
Her nerve endings exploded when he finally, finally touched where she ached for him most. Utterly helpless to the groan that tore from her throat. 
Rowan’s fingers moved in tight lazy circles over the bundle of nerves. His other hand slid from her neck to the curve of her jaw, gently turning Aelin’s head to the side.
“Shhh,” he soothed against her lips. “I want nothing more–gods,” Rowan sputtered, fingers dipping to her center, coating them in her dripping arousal. “–than to hear you scream yourself hoarse on my fingers, on my cock.”
Aelin loosed a shuddering breath as said cock twitched against her ass. 
Rowan’s slick fingers slid back to her clit and her whole body tensed. He nipped at her bottom lip, “But I need you to keep quiet this time. Can you do that for me?”
She nodded, dazed.
“Good girl,” he crooned before kissing her deeply, thoroughly.
Aelin lost herself to the slide of his mouth against hers and the press of his touch at her sex. His hand dropped from her face to her breast, pinching one of her stiff nipples, sending a shock of pleasure through her. Then, without warning, Rowan pushed a finger into her heat, then added a second one. 
After a few pumps, he eased in a third digit. “You’re doing so well, sweetheart.” His voice was sinful. “Have to make sure you’re nice ‘n ready for me.”
He greedily swallowed down her moans. Pumping slowly in and out of her, her walls stretching to accommodate.
Their kiss broke on a gasp that stole the breath from her lungs as Rowan curled his fingers to rub that spot along her inner walls. Her body clenching around his thick digits and toes curling in her shoes.
Rowan chuckled lowly. “Ohh, right there?” She nodded mutely. 
He pressed a kiss to throat. “Use your words, Aelin.”
“Yes,” she groaned, hips undulating in time with his thrusts. “Gods, yes. Right there—nnh, fuck.” 
The blatant neediness in her voice should’ve been embarrassing, but she was half out of her mind to care.
Rowan rewarded her with the firm press of his thumb to her clit, his fingers continually pumping into her. “Such a good fucking girl for me."
Aelin’s body trembled with the building pressure, overwhelmed with the effect of his words and touches. Surely she would combust any second and the wildfire roaring beneath her skin would consume her whole.
Rowan sunk his teeth into her pulse point and her body arched, pleasure rocketing through her. The impossibly wound coil deep in her gut finally snapping. Aelin nearly sobbed from relief, sagging against the strong arm across her chest.
Rowan’s hand lazily coaxed the last remnants of pleasure from her as she finished riding the wave of her orgasm. Their heavy breaths and his fingers gently pushing through the slick between her thighs the only sounds filling the space.
Not until he ensured she was fully sated did he pull away from her heat, dragging his fingers up the center of her body to leave a glistening trail in their wake. Aelin swallowed thickly as he brought those fingers to his lips to lick them clean. Humming like she was the sweetest thing he’s had the pleasure of tasting.
Aelin turned on shaky legs and hastily dragged his face to hers, lips colliding in a soul searing kiss. Rowan lifted and sat her on the bathroom counter without severing contact. Large hands tangled in her hair, tipping her head back to open her up further. Aelin hummed against the brush of his tongue.
Hands tugged impatiently at his shirt as she mumbled “off” against his lips. Rowan chuckled but obliged nonetheless. 
Her bottom lip caught between her teeth as her eyes unabashedly devoured the muscled expanse of his heaving chest. The inked sleeve on his left arm indeed connected seamlessly to the whirling designs spanning across his left pec, licking up the base of his neck. She swallowed an appreciative groan.
“Gods, it’s unfair how fucking hot you are.” Aelin lightly scraped her nails over the ridges of his abdominal muscles.
“You’re one to talk.”
She smirked, but didn’t respond.
Her focus was instead drawn to the impressive bulge straining painfully against the zip of his jeans. Rowan grunted when she palmed him through the material. Then so slowly popped the button open and dragged the zipper down. Aelin worked the jeans and boxer briefs over his hips until his erection was freed and bobbing just below his navel.
Her eyes widened.
By the wryd, he was massive. No wonder he took such care in working her with his fingers first. 
The smug grin was wiped clean from his face when she wrapped a hand around him. His head fell against her shoulder, releasing a jagged breath as she methodically worked her hand up and down his length. 
Rowan mindlessly thrusted into her hand with soft groans. His full body shuddered when she squeezed the head of his cock and pressed her thumb to the weeping slit.
He bit out a curse, firmly gripping her wrist. “I’m not going to last if you keep that up.”
“Isn’t that the point?” She asked sweetly.
Rowan dragged his thumb across her lip. “You’re such a wicked thing.”
She hummed then wriggled her hips in silent command. Rowan didn’t need further elaboration, hooking his large hands in the band of her underwear and pants, slowly peeling them down her toned legs, also discarding her shoes in the process. At his gentle prod she spread her thighs, exposing herself fully to him.
The debauched groan that ripped deep from within his chest shot straight to her core. Pine-green eyes glazed as they settled on her glistening sex.
“Rowan,” she whispered. “Please.”
Her words snapped him into action. Gripping the base of his cock, he notched the swollen head against her entrance.
His body went rigid. “Fuck.”
“What? What’s wrong?” Trying to keep panic from edging in her voice. 
“I don’t have a condom.” Rowan looked physically pained, tone forlorn.  
Oh.
“Fuck, Aelin, I’m sorry.” He bowed to rest his forehead against hers. She tried very hard to block out the feel of him nudging against her folds with the movement. “I didn’t expect—hadn’t plann–”
Aelin silenced him with a kiss, slow and gentle. Her fingers delicately twined with the silvery strands at the nape of his neck.
“Fuck me, Rowan.” His cock twitched against her thigh. 
He traced his thumb across her collarbone. “Are you sure?” 
“I’m on birth control and I’m clean. Are you?”
“Yes,” he answered—to both questions. She nodded with understanding.
She stroked his length, then realigned him with her entrance. 
“Then fuck me.”
So he did, pushing into her with a powerful thrust. Rowan slotted his mouth over Aelin’s to muffle her cries. Her toes curled tightly at the backs of his thighs, struggling to find any space within her for breath. Rowan panted, giving her time to adjust. Strong muscles shaking with barely controlled restraint.
After a moment, hips rolled against his in silent command. And Rowan obliged, pulling out to the tip before snapping into her heat again. Over and over.
Aelin’s head dropped back on a strangled moan as her nails dug into his flesh, seeking purchase anywhere.
“You take my cock so well, Aelin,” he bit out. “So fucking good for me.”
Rowan groaned as she clenched around him. Never in her life had she been so gods-damned aroused. She was going to come from his words alone, taking her apart piece by piece.
“Please, please, Rowan.”
His hand slipped between their sweaty bodies and drew pants from her pretty mouth that grew breathier and higher with each passing stroke. Until finally a wave of pleasure crested over her and she shattered around him.
Rowan nearly choked as her core contracted tightly around him. He buried a hand in her hair and brought her mouth to his in a rough kiss, the pace of his thrusts growing erratic. Then he was groaning loudly against her lips, finally meeting his release deep within her.
Aelin gently scraped her nails against his scalp and hummed into his mouth as his hips rocked slowly into hers, milking the last of their shared pleasure.
They stayed like that for long moments, Rowan still buried inside her and their lips exploring languidly. Separating only once a shiver ran through her body, the sweat gathered in the dip of her lower back cooling.
Rowan murmured against her skin through a smile, “Let's get you dressed.”
Aelin made a noise of protest as he pulled out of her, but allowed him to gently wipe her clean before helping her back into her clothes. Once fully dressed and steadied on her feet, Rowan tilted her chin with a tenderness that made her heart ache and gave her a lingering kiss.
“When we get back to Orynth, let me take you to dinner.”
With a little shrug, Aelin gave him a simpering smile. “It’s the very least you could do.” 
Rowan snorted, despite the bright grin splitting his face. Then shook his head with quiet amusement, “So wicked.”
~
Aelin finally settled into her seat on the plane. 
A smile seemed to permanently occupy her lips since she and Rowan slipped from the bathroom earlier. 
Rowan. Gods, what an unexpected surprise he turned out to be. 
Aelin slipped her phone from her pocket, preparing to switch it to Airplane Mode. Just as she swiped away the lock screen, a text notification scrolled across the top from her newest added contact. Biting her lip, Aelin tapped on the notification to open up the new iMessage thread.
Rowan: See you soon, sweetheart.
Warmth flooded her chest. Before she could type a response, her phone vibrated again with an additional incoming text and an image.
Rowan: ps. you can’t blame this poor male for admiring your exquisite form either. 😉
Aelin’s head jerked up to stare at the mop of silver hair seated several rows ahead of her, mouth agape for several seconds. Her lips twitched into a smirk, snorting in disbelief as her eyes fell back to the image on her phone. 
An image of her from hours ago, stretching out in her seat with a hand running through her hair. Frankly, it was a good candid putting the lines of her body on display in the best way.
The stewardess’ voice crackled through the overhead speaker, directing passengers to please secure their seatbelts, close their dropdown trays, and switch all electronics to airplane mode.
Aelin fired a quick response back before toggling on Airplane Mode: Sneaky bastard!
--
Masterlist
164 notes · View notes
leiawritesstories · 8 months
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i need more aelin and rowan in the ballet pleasee 😭💖
always happy to write more of my ballet babies 💕🥰
Word count: 1.4k
Warnings: ballet talk, swearing, NSFW, oops it turned into smut
Enjoy!!
performance reference (Fumi Kaneko, The Royal Ballet)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'll never get this stupid variation down, Aelin groaned to herself as she dropped out of a triple pirouette for the third time in a row. Muttering a curse under her breath, she bent into plié in fourth position and attempted the pirouette again. And again.
And again.
She was debuting as Aurora in The Sleeping Beauty in less than a month. Which meant she had only a few weeks to get this bloody variation down. Aurora Act I is a difficult variation, as her coach was always reminding her. You shouldn't be expecting yourself to get it down overnight.
Forcing herself to breathe, Aelin shook out her legs and walked in a tight circle. Maybe giving herself a quick break would help. She'd never been a natural turner, but she could execute triple pirouettes--and the occasional quadruple pirouette--cleanly, hence her frustration with these ones not working. She took a short sip of water, rewound the music, and restarted the section of the variation she'd been working on.
This time, when the pirouette came up, she rose into passé rélevé on her right leg, set down into plié, and turned on her left leg instead of her right. And she floated cleanly through three pirouettes, landed, and pumped her fist in the air, grinning.
Huh. Apparently she was a left turner.
Note to self: discuss turning to the left with coach. Aelin filed away the thought for after her rehearsal. Newly energized by her pirouette success, she ran through that middle section of the variation a few more times, turning to the left, then took a few minutes, rewound the music all the way to the beginning, and started the variation from the top, ending with a sequence of châiné turns into B-plus position, arms in an effortless, open fifth position above her head.
Applause rippled from behind her as she practiced her bow. Surprised, she hastily rose from her curtsy and turned towards the studio door, mentally praying it wasn't her coach standing there.
It wasn't.
It was Rowan Whitethorn, her Prince in this casting.
Aelin dropped into a more sardonic curtsy, dipping her head at Rowan. "Come to laugh at my failure to turn?" She rolled her eyes. "It's fine, I'd laugh at myself too if it wasn't so damn frustrating."
"Hey." Rowan walked into the studio, closed the door behind himself, and caught her hand. "All I saw was you absolutely killing that variation, Ace. I swear." He crooked his little finger. "Pinky swear."
"You better," she grumbled. "My pirouettes were absolute shit until I switched legs." She sighed heavily and glanced at the clock. "Oh, hell. Half an hour until Coach blows my legs out."
Rowan rested his hands casually against her waist, sending an electric thrum up her spine. "Sounds like you need a little bit of relaxation, hmm?" His rasping whisper brushed against her ear.
Aelin shivered in anticipation, in delight. "We're in a studio," she retorted. "And the door isn't locked."
"We can fix that." He pressed a featherlight kiss to the side of her throat. "And before you pretend to protest, there aren't any windows in this studio." Another teasingly light kiss. "I almost wonder if you picked this space on purpose."
"Hardly," she snarked. "I'm never planning for my boyfriend to interrupt my--ohhh!" Her sass broke off into a gasp when that boyfriend of hers dipped his head down to nip at her pulse point and dipped his hand down under her rehearsal tutu. "Rowan."
"Aelin," he groaned, body jerking as she reached back and palmed his cock through his tights, the thin athletic shorts he wore over the tights doing absolutely nothing to control his rapidly hardening erection.
Before she could lose herself in the sensation of his lips on her skin and his hand between her thighs, Aelin slipped out of Rowan's arms, hurried over to lock the door, and waltzed back across the floor. His dark green gaze tracked each of her deliberate steps. Deciding to tease him just a little more, she rose onto pointe and moved in a series of bourrée across the floor, stopping two paces away from Rowan and launching into a turn à la seconde, one leg extended out to the side.
Flawlessly, he lunged forward and caught her, wrapping one arm around her waist and looping the other around her extended leg, and pulled her flush against him with his leg slotted between hers. She let out a quiet moan and arched into him, craving the friction his muscled thigh created against her throbbing core.
"Please," she gasped, sliding one arm up and back to tangle in his bleached hair. One quick tug had his bandanna on the floor and her fingers woven into his floppy hair, the strands soft between her fingers. "Unless you can't live up to your big talk about relaxing me."
"I'll show you big talk," he rumbled, working her tights partway down her legs, tucking the bottom of her leotard off to the side, and pressing the pad of his thumb directly against her needy clit. She moaned a string of garbled curses and dropped her head backwards onto his shoulder, exposing the elegant column of her neck.
"Fuck, Ro!"
"That's right, princess, tell the world who makes you feel so good," he purred, plunging two fingers into her cunt. She moaned his name, her eyes fluttering closed. "Good girl." He pumped his fingers faster, drawing those breathy, needy sounds he loved so much out of her throat.
"Rowan." Her hand wrapped around his wrist. "I need you. Now." Her hips bucked backwards, rocking against his hard cock through the thin layers separating them. "Please."
"Since you asked so nicely," he murmured. He withdrew his fingers, spun her around so she was facing him, and raised his fingers to her lips. "How do you taste, princess?"
"So good," she groaned around his fingers, her words muffled. She danced her fingertips down his chest, down to his shorts, and pushed the garments down far enough to let his erection spring free, pressing it to her dripping core. "So good."
"Good girl," he groaned. He lifted one of her legs, hooked it around his waist, lined his cock up with her entrance, and slammed home in one fluid thrust. "Fuuuuuuuuckkkk, Ae," he groaned, dropping his forehead to press against hers. "You feel incredible." She moaned in agreement, rocking her hips against his. He smirked. "Needy, aren't you, princess?"
"Only for you," she panted.
He kissed her fiercely, swallowing her moan as he thrust harder, faster. "That's my good girl." She groaned deeply, her fingers scraping lightly down the skin of his back. The edge of pain spurred him faster, his thrusts almost wild. He flicked a glance at the mirror, captivated by the carnal sight of them in the middle of the studio. "Open your eyes, princess. Look how beautiful you are all wrapped around my cock."
She looked into the mirror, her gaze heavy with desire as her brilliant eyes fixed on the almost lewd display. "Harder, Ro."
He obliged, hips pounding into hers so hard her legs buckled. Easily, he swept her up into his ridiculously huge arms, letting her lock her legs around his waist as his thrusts stuttered, a clear sign of how close he was. "Aelin," he moaned, "I'm gonna--"
"Come for me," she whispered, barely able to form the words through the tremors shaking her body as her own orgasm crested and exploded. He groaned her name as he came with her, staying buried inside of her as their bodies stilled.
"Love you," she mumbled into his neck as he pulled out and cleaned her up with a couple of tissues, carefully fixing her clothes and her tutu.
"Love you more," he murmured, kissing the top of her head. "Feel relaxed, princess?"
She took a step back from him and stretched herself out, arching her back and raising her arms over her head. "Mmmm, yes I do." She rose onto pointe and kissed him softly. He settled one hand on the back of her head and deepened the kiss, dragging out the sweet moment until she had to pull away. "Rehearsal, Ro, I have rehearsal."
"I do too," he sighed. "Ugh. Merde, love."
"See you tonight!" she chirped, slinging her dance bag over her shoulder as she hurried out of the studio.
He damn well would.
~~~ TAGS:
@live-the-fangirl-life
@superspiritfestival
@thegreyj
@wordsafterhours
@elentiyawhitethorn
@morganofthewildfire
@backtobl4ck
@rowanaelinn
@house-of-galathynius
@tomtenadia
@julemmaes
@swankii-art-teacher
@charlizeed
@booknerdproblems
@chronicchthonic14
@earthtolinds
@goddess-aelin
@sweet-but-stormy
@clea-nightingale
@autumnbabylon
@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell
@llyncooljones
@silentquartz
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autumnshighlady · 2 years
Text
Our Girl
poly!Rowaelin x f!reader
summary: you’ve been fantasizing about Rowan and Aelin for weeks, praying they won’t catch onto your strange behaviour. Naturally, they do....
warnings: smut (18+), oral sex (m & f receiving), face sitting, choking, slight degradation, praise kink, threesome, slight voyeurism
word count: 6.9k
DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE
***disclaimer: I have not finished KoA, this fic does not really align with any canon plot but I do not care, it’s just some polyamorous Rowaelin smut because I felt like it, enjoy ;) Also this is my first ever attempt at writing smut, please go easy on me!
for @gothicbabydollz -🤠
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You were completely screwed.
Days had gone by as you travelled with Rowan, Aelin, Aedion, and Lysandra back to Terrasan. Sometimes the group engaged in light conversation, but much of the journey consisted of pleasant silence, everyone preferring to listen to the sounds of the wind in the trees and the waves of the river.
However, this also meant that in this silence you were left with your own thoughts, sinful ones that plagued their way into your dreams. They left you waking up with a thin layer of sweat across your brow, your mind fogged with lust. You tried to snap out of it as quickly as you could, even going so far as to splash water on yourself. Gods help you if any of the many heightened senses of smell amongst the group caught onto your arousal.
For nights on end, you dreamed about Rowan and Aelin, the Fae prince and the fire-breathing bitch queen taking you to their bed, letting their canines drag across your sensitive skin as they brought you release over and over again. You imagined over and over again what it would be like to have Rowan’s muscled form pressing into your body, to tangle your hands in Aelin’s golden locks and whisper her name on your lips so intimately. But these dreams did not just plague your mind at night. No, during these stretches of silence on the journey you found yourself shamefully revisiting the memories and sensations from the dreams, allowing yourself to get lost in the fantasy as you rode or walked in silence for hours.
You didn’t know Rowan or Aelin particularly well. You were a friend of Lysandra’s, and kept yourself at a distance from the powerhouse of a couple you travelled with. Sure, they were polite and you trusted them, but something about them intimidated you – and not just in a bad way. Occasionally, you felt their piercing gazes linger on you. If you met their stare they did not back down, a gleam in their eyes as if they were predators sizing up their prey. It sent a rush of heat to your core, and every time you prayed they wouldn’t scent it.
Naturally, this made the journey difficult. You cursed yourself for letting your mind wander to these places, places where you had no business being. Everyone and their dog knew of Rowan and Aelin’s love, their partnership that ran even deeper than that. A few nights ago you heard them sneak off into the night when everyone was supposed to be asleep, occasionally even hearing a soft moan or grunt in the distance that let you know exactly what they were doing. You even allowed your hands to drift into your own pants, but you felt ashamed soon after.
You were not sure if you could call it jealousy, per se. You were jealous of the golden haired queen who got to be with Rowan, but you were also jealous of Rowan. Oh the things you would give to take either of their places. But the issue was that not that you wanted to disturb their relationship and bring one of them to your side, but rather part of you wished you could join them, to be a part of that strong love they shared. To worship and be worshipped by them both.
By the gods, you were screwed.
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After another long day of travel, it was time to settle down for the night. After stuffing some bread and cheese in your mouths, settling the horses in and laying out the bedrolls, it was time to sleep. As you had been doing lately, you placed your bedrolls as far from Rowan and Aelin as possible. You didn’t mean to be rude, after all they had been good to you, but your cheeks burned at the possibility of dreaming about sharing their bed while they slept right next to you.
Despite the exhaustion, sleep would not come. You tossed and turned for about an hour, trying to think of every technique in the book to fall asleep. Finally, after all of them failed, you angrily tossed your covers off and stood up. Everyone else appeared to be asleep, so you quietly tiptoed around the tents and into the forest. Seating yourself on a soft patch of moss behind a tree in the distance, you sighed. Closing your eyes, you tried to drown out your thoughts.
“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” A familiar female voice purred from behind you.
You nearly jumped out of your skin, not hearing Aelin’s approach. You swore quietly, breath hitching as your heartbeat sped up, not entirely from the fright.
The golden haired queen chuckled lowly. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” She drawled. She emerged out of the corner of your eye, the light of the moon shining in those turquoise gold eyes you lost yourself in so many times. She wore only Rowan’s oversized shirt, and it took everything in you to not stare at the way the shirt ended halfway down her thigh, exposing her tan and muscular legs. 
“Sorry,” You murmured, adjusting your sitting position and staring at the moss on the ground. “I thought you were asleep.”
“As did I with you.” A playful challenge danced in her eyes, and before you registered what was happening, the assassin plunked down to your left - very very close.
Gods, please no, You pleaded. It was not that you were uncomfortable in the presence of this magnificent woman, but rather fear shook you that those shining eyes would take one look into yours and know every sinful thought that danced in your mind.
But it was too late for the gods to help you, as Aelin was now sitting shoulder to shoulder with you, leaning against the tree. Her arm grazed yours, leaving your skin feeling electrified. Her bare knee lazily knocked against your own – an innocent enough gesture, one of comfort, but it set your nerve endings aflame, as if the power of the queen next to you seeped into the deepest parts of your body. You had never been this close with her, this casual, you did not let yourself. The last thing you wanted was to get jealous and hurt, or worse, come between the two fae who were perfect for each other.
“Please don’t tell me you’re brooding or some shit,” Aelin groaned, closing her eyes and tilting her chin to the sky. The warm breeze sent her golden hair adrift, her sweet scent rushing into your nose. With her defined face lit up by the moon and her hair in the wind, she truly looked like a goddess. “I have enough gods-damned brooding males to deal with already. I don’t need the females doing it too.”
You snorted, fiddling with your hands. “I’m not brooding,” You said. “Just can’t sleep, that’s all.”
“Weird dreams?”
You froze, heart pounding. For a moment you stuttered before quickly closing your mouth. Shit. You prayed to every god that Aelin hadn’t noticed your pause. “No.” You said quickly.
Unsurprisingly, Aelin didn’t believe you for one second. “Liar.” She said firmly, in a haughty tone that sent fire through your veins and turned your core to liquid. You prayed once again that she wouldn’t scent it.
As if testing the waters, Aelin pressed her right leg into your left one, silky but firm muscle against your skin. Involuntarily your breath hitched, heart dropping as you saw the smirk that formed on the queen’s face at your reaction. You turned your head to the right, avoiding eye contact even though in your gut, you knew she had somehow figured you out. A strong hand gripped your chin, forcing you to meet her gaze.
Your eyes met her turquoise gold ones, and you let yourself gaze at her lips. An arrogant smirk came over them. “You wanna try that again?” She clucked her tongue, expecting an answer.
But you did not give in. You couldn’t – you knew deep down Aelin was not doing this to be cruel and humiliate you. Well, maybe a little bit, but not to hurt you personally. But you clung to what was left of the shreds of your dignity and raised your chin as much as you could within her iron tight grip. It made her chuckle.
“Oh, yes, you’ve got some fire in you after all.” Aelin chuckled darkly. She shifted her weight so she was sitting up on her right side, hitching her left leg through yours and pulling it to the side and spreading your legs ever so slightly.
And you let her, you let the Queen of Terrasan spread your legs, which were almost entirely bare thanks to the flimsy sleep shorts you donned. While her right hand gripped your chin still, her left one circled just above the inside of your knee, kneading into your skin.
You couldn’t breathe. Between the grip on your chin forcing you to meet Aelin’s gaze to the hand on your inner thigh, every sensible thought you should be having flew out the window. Any shred of hiding your interest in the golden haired woman was long gone, leaving you at her mercy.
“I see the way you’ve snuck glances at Rowan and me,” Aelin purred, eyes not once leaving yours. “Don’t even try to deny it. I’m honestly a little insulted you thought I wouldn’t notice. Surely you know I’m not an idiot, right?”
You nodded with what little motion you had. Denying the queen of answers would no longer go in your favour, you figured. She released the grip on your chin, only to move her hand to the back of your head, gripping a handful of your hair like you had dreamed about doing with hers.
“So when you wake up all flushed and flustered, my guess is that it’s because you’ve been having some lovely dreams about me.” Her voice was like honey coated steel, lips brushing against your ear and making their way down your throat. “And probably Rowan too, but mostly me, which I don’t blame you for.”
You chuckled briefly, feeling Aelin’s lips smirk against your skin as her suspicions were confirmed. Your common sense finally came back to you at the mention of the fae prince.
“But…but… Rowan–”  You whined as you felt her drag her canines up the column of your neck.
“Is quite enjoying the view.” Aelin interrupted, causing your eyes to shoot open. 
Fear coursed through your body as your eyes shot open. Indeed, the towering form of the fae prince hovered a few feet from your right. His green eyes glinted, that predatory gaze that sent enemies to their knees scanning the scene before him. You tried to scramble away, but Aelin’s grip on your hair and thigh was too strong. Fae males were territorial bastards on a good day, so you sitting here with Rowan’s carranam entwined like lovers…
He chuckled darkly, removing his hands from his pockets. “Such a pretty little thing you’ve got there, Fireheart.” His velvety voice dripped in lust, and you practically throbbed at the tone. He stepped forward, silver hair shining under the light of the moon. That tattoo on his face blended in with the shadows, an utterly terrifying yet arousing site.
“I like her, Rowan,” Aelin said, squeezing your thigh harder and causing you to whimper. “Can we keep her?”
Instead of bracing yourself for whatever humiliating response you expected Rowan to give, you blurted out apologies. “I’m sorry,” You stammered. “I swear I’m not trying to get between you two, I just–”
Your words were cut off sharply as Rowan’s massive hand wrapped around your throat, silencing you with a gentle but firm squeeze. “Oh please,” He murmured, bending down to squat next to you as he brought his lips to your ear. “We’ve been wanting this just as long as you, sweetheart.”
Your brows furrowed, causing the prince to chuckle. Aelin continued her circles on your inner thigh, slowly inching it further and further up as her lips alternated between your shoulder and ear. “I’m surprised you didn’t get the hint earlier, little dove,” She quipped as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “We tried to get you closer to us, but you pulled away. Did you honestly think Rowan just forgot to put up a magical shield to block out our sounds when we slipped away a few nights ago? We knew you could hear us, I’m disappointed you didn’t join.”
Head reeling, both from the shock of Aelin’s information that they deliberately fucked close enough for you to hear, and from Rowan’s pressure on your throat, you stuttered. “I–”
“We could smell you,” Rowan growled. “We could smell how aroused you were, hear those fingers delve into that wet pussy of yours. Do you know how hard it was to not storm over and take you against the bedroll right then and there?”
Finally, the grip on your neck was released. The stars in the sky swam in your vision as you inhaled a much needed gulp of air. Part of you wondered if this was another one of your dreams, but it felt too real. The world melted away as the large hand that had previously held your neck took up residence on your inner thigh across from Aelin’s. While the blonde’s touches were firm but teasing, Rowan’s got straight to the point, clenching your thigh mere inches away from your core and prying your legs open further. Even through the fabric of your shorts, you could feel the iciness of his touch.
“I bet she’s wet right now,” Aelin breathed. Before your thoughts could even form a mental response, her left hand snapped from your leg to the centre between your legs, cupping you firmly with a possessiveness that turned you on even more.
You bit down on your lip, restraint slipping. It would be so easy to let yourself go, to allow the price and the queen to have you any way they wanted. At this point, you did not know why you bothered to attempt to maintain control – you knew what was about to happen, and it sent butterflies into your stomach.
“As usual, I was right.” Aelin’s smirk was triumphant, eyes dancing victoriously as she noticed your pathetic attempt at restraining yourself. “Look at her, Rowan, she’s still holding back, isn’t she?”
Rowan’s lips kissed your ear, murmuring his agreement as his breath sent chills down your spine.
“We can’t have that now, can we?” Aelin chided teasingly. “We know exactly what you want, princess, let us give it to you. Will you let us take care of you”
Even if you wanted to respond right away, you couldn’t. Every part of your body screamed yes yes yes, but Aelin’s hand still covered your core, applying just enough pressure to set your blood on fire but not enough to relieve the throbbing that plagued your centre. You could barely breathe, barely think between Aelin’s hands in your hair and between your legs while Rowan gripped your thigh and breathed down your neck. Your eyes closed, you were going to explode–
A sharp nip to your ear snapped you out of your trance, and your eyes shot open once more.
“Your queen asked you a question.” Rowan growled, his tone leaving no room for disobedience.
“I don’t particularly enjoy repeating myself,” Aelin sighed mockingly. Ever so slightly, her middle finger stroked a feather-light line a few centimetres up your covered core, making you see stars. “But I’m feeling generous tonight, so let me ask you again. Will you let us take care of you, hm? Will you let us make you ours?”
“Yes,” You practically sobbed, the words shooting out from your lips before Aelin even finished her sentence. “Gods yes, please…”
Aelin looked like a cat that just ate the canary. Satisfied, she grinned triumphantly and removed her hand from between your legs. Before you could protest at the loss of contact, that hand came to your cheek and cupped your face as she brought her lips to yours.
Holy gods, Aelin Galathynius was kissing you.
Her lips were soft as rose petals, dancing against your own as the grip in her hair loosened, moving to rest upon your other cheek instead. Her scent of jasmine, lemon, and embers was intoxicating, as if it were a drug getting you high, and you loved it. Aelin’s blonde hair gently tickled your face in the breeze like silk, and her thumb ever so slightly stroked your cheek. You were pretty sure you were in heaven – you had imagined countless nights what it would be like to kiss the Queen of Terassen, to have those smirking lips pressed against your own.
She kissed you with a fire no less than what you would have expected from her. There was passion behind it, making your head reel as you lost yourself in the sensation. Needing to do something with your hands, you gently placed them on her waist as best you could given the position, Aelin still sitting to your left and slightly in front of you.
Rowan, who you had almost forgotten was there, hummed in approval. It was more of a low growl, turning you on even more. As Aelin continued to kiss you, Rowan’s hands roamed to the laces at the front of your v-neck nightshirt. He began undoing them, his fingertips brushing your skin teasingly as you felt the night air cool your newly exposed skin.
After unlacing the shirt, the fae prince kneeled and moved his hands to your shoulders, grabbing the edges of the nightshirt and slowly pulling them down your shoulders. His lips trailed along the newly exposed skin, canines scraping ever so slightly as he kissed and sucked.
You moaned into Aelin’s mouth, eliciting a satisfied growl from the queen. She kissed you harder, tongue ever so slightly tracing along the edges of your lips. You felt the nightshirt pool around your elbows, leaving your bare chest exposed to the night air. Before you could make an effort to pull your arms out from the sleeves, Rowan’s large hands gripped the front of the fabric and pulled, effortlessly ripping it to shreds.
Briefly, you wondered how you would explain to the others the absence of your nightshirt when you woke up. But that thought was pushed aside as you felt Rowan’s hand grasp your right breast with an assertiveness that you knew only fae males possessed. You gasped at the sensation as he began kneading the soft flesh of your chest.
Aelin’s mouth left yours and you whined. She chuckled, moving her lips to the hollow of your throat and sucked, which you knew would leave a purple mark the next day. Not that you cared, hell you’d wear it proudly – let everyone know the Queen of Terassen had marked you as hers that night.
Towering above you, Rowan gripped your hair with his free hand and pulled, forcing your head back and to the side to look at him. That usually stone cold face was blown with lust, the green of his eyes barely visible with his full blown pupils. With the starlight framing his face he looked every bit as ethereal and godlike as Aelin, the moon to her fiery sun.
However, you didn’t have time to savour his beautiful face looking down at you with nothing but sinful intentions, as he bent down to kiss you. His lips collided with yours, and you swear the world around you exploded. While Aelin’s kiss was soft and passionate, Rowan’s was rough and commanding. Teeth nearly clashing, his tongue found the inside of your mouth within seconds. You did not even think of trying to fight against his sheer dominance, especially when you saw stars as his teeth tugged your lip. 
Needless to say you were a whimpering mess. Between the silver haired prince’s tongue in your mouth and his hand groping your right breast and the blonde queen’s mouth planting possessive kisses and bites across your neck and chest, you were at the mercy of these two powerful beings.
And you loved it.
Aelin’s sinful mouth moved to your left breast, wrapping her lips around your nipple and letting her canines scrape the soft skin and had your toes curling. If your mouth wasn't preoccupied, you would have cried out.
She massaged your thigh again, hand roaming everywhere except where you needed it most. Perhaps involuntarily, your hips bucked, desperate to relieve the throbbing need at your core.
Rowan’s lips instantly disconnected with yours, growling as he roughly tugged your hair. “Don’t whine, princess.” He snarled. “You will take what we give you.”
“So needy,” Aelin crooned mockingly. “And so desperate. You avoid us for days, then demand more from us? After you already had an opportunity to join us in bed? Tsk tsk.”
You couldn’t take it anymore. You hated begging, hated sounding weak to anyone no matter the circumstance. You were humiliated, but a sick part of you loved it – loved being teased and taunted by the powerful creatures whose hands which had taken so many lives and butchered countless people caressed the most intimate parts of your body.
“Please, fuck…” You begged, not caring how pathetic it sounded. “Please…”
“Please what?” Aelin taunted, drawing circles on your inner thigh.
Gods, they were actually going to make you say it, weren’t they? 
“Please touch me,” You nearly wept. “Please, I’ll do anything.”
From the heated glance Rowan and Aelin exchanged, you instantly knew uttering that last part may have been a mistake. Or a blessing, who knows.
“Good girl.” Rowan purred into your ear. 
The words poured over you like warm honey, wetness pooling between your legs at his words. Naturally, the increased intensity of your scent was not lost to both of them.
“Oh she liked that,” Aelin chuckled. “Isn’t that right, princess? Are you gonna be our good girl?”
“Yes!” You breathed, nodding with a fervour that was borderline shameful. But you didn’t give a shit, not as you were so close to getting what you dreamed of night after night.
“That’s all we needed to hear.” With that, Aelin’s hand tugged your flimsy shorts. You lifted your hips as she pulled them down your legs along with your underwear, tossing them to the side, likely into some bush.
You were now completely naked before them. Both fae paused and allowed their hungry gazes to roam your body. Your skin gleamed in the moonlight, legs spread as Aelin sat on her knees between them, looking ready to devour you whole.
“Just like we imagined, huh Fireheart?” Rowan mused to his lover.
Before you could ask what the fuck they meant, Aelin’s skilled fingers swept a line up your centre through the wetness pooling there, gathering it in her fingers before removing her hand promptly. You cried out, legs twitching. You stared, wide-eyed as the blonde brought her fingers to her mouth, licked them once, and moaned.
“She tastes so good, Rowan.” Aelin breathed. She leaned towards him and held out her fingers, to which the silver haired prince grabbed her hand and proceeded to wrap his lips around them and suck.
It was a sight that would have brought you to your knees, if you were standing. The Queen of Terassen and her lover moaning at your taste was something you thought would only happen in your dreams. Before you could say anything, Aelin stood up and skipped away into the bushes. You felt strong arms wrap around your back and under your knees, lifting your naked body up as if you weighed nothing at all. Carrying you, Rowan followed Aelin into a small clearing some distance away. It was by a small creek, with a large patch of soft, mossy ground next to it. The trees surrounded most of it like a wall, shielding the three of you from the rest of the world.
With a surprising tenderness, Rowan laid you down on the moss gently, planting a kiss to your lips. However, the kiss was short lived – Aelin, who had discarded her shirt somewhere along the way, practically shoved him out of the way as she scrambled over top of you. Her knee pressed against your core, rocking slightly and sending waves of pleasure shooting through your body. She resumed her attack on your neck and chest from earlier, and you knew that you would don multiple bruises and marks from the fiery queen.
Rowan did not seem to mind being sidelined for a moment. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed he used this time to remove his own shirt. Smirking, he caught your gaze as he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his perfectly sculpted torso. 
Mouth watering, you made eye contact as he placed his hand over the bulge in his shorts and palmed himself. In that moment you were thankful you did not have fire powers like Aelin, or else you were sure you would have set the clearing aflame from that wonderful sight.
Your attention was soon turned back to Aelin as her kisses moved down to your stomach, then to your hips. You bucked your hips, earning a firm bite from her. Defeated and relinquished of all control, you relaxed further into her touch and tried not to squirm as her lips ghosted your inner thigh a hairline away from your core.
“I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” Aelin murmured before leaning down and diving between your legs.
Oh Gods, she feasted on you.
This time, you really did scream as her tongue swept through your folds, stroking patterns along your most sensitive areas as her lips and teeth wasted no time in sucking your clit.
Unable to restrain yourself any longer, your hand latched into her hair, entwining with the golden locks with a death grip as you panted. Luckily, Aelin did not seem to mind – in fact, the growl she let out indicated her approval. As she slipped a finger easily inside your hole while feasted on you, your head tilted up towards the stars and you allowed yourself to moan freely.
This was better than any of your dreams by far.
Rowan’s patience finally slipped, as he removed his pants but left his undershorts on and sat down behind you. He sat you up, Aelin’s free hand keeping your hips still as you were propped up. You felt Rowan’s muscular chest against your back, his scent of pine and snow filling your senses as his lips met your ear.
“Do you like that, princess?” He murmured. “Do you enjoy having your queen between those pretty legs of yours?”
“Yes,” You breathed. “I’ve…. fuck…. I’ve dreamed about it for so many nights…”
Pleased with your response, Rowan’s hands cupped your breasts. His fingers pinched and twisted your nipples, a delicious sensation of slight pain to contrast with the overwhelming pleasure at your core.
“We heard you play with yourself that night we slipped out,” He growled, canines abusing your neck. “Wondered if it was my fingers you were imagining your own to be, or Aelin’s. It was easy to figure out that you didn’t just want one of us, but both. Our perfect little slut, so eager, practically begging to be fucked.”
You whimpered helplessly, Rowan’s words heating your very blood. Your attempts at subtlety the past while had failed, and deep down you had known it. 
“I practically had to hold Aelin back that night to stop her from storming over there and ripping your clothes off,” Rowan continued. It was the most you had ever heard him speak to anyone besides Aelin –  never had you imagined it would be these words coming out of his mouth when he spoke to you. “Not that I was much better. You know what you did to me that night, don’t you? You can fucking feel it right now, princess?”
With those words, Rowan pressed his hips into your back, letting you feel the sizeable, solid bulge straining against his undergarments. You moaned, pride filling you knowing that you had done that to him, the feared fae prince who brought enemies to their knees. Gods knew you wouldn’t mind being on your knees before him.
“That’s right,” Rowan whispered. “Feel how hard you make me. That pretty mouth has been so quiet lately, I can’t wait to put it to use. Can’t wait to see you choking on my cock.”
The tight coil you had been feeling build up for the past few minutes increased at his words, and that familiar feeling of release crept up.
“I’m so close,” You murmured, giving the fae a warning – you suspected they were the type to make you ask for your release.
Rowan chuckled, as if they already could tell by your body language and scent, which they probably could. Aelin doubled her efforts, two curled fingers thrusting in and out of you while her lips and teeth were firmly attached to your clit.
Minutes later, the tension snapped and your release barrelled through you. Crying out Aelin’s name as your legs shook, Rowan bit down on the junction between your neck and shoulder, canines sinking into your skid and adding to the overwhelming sensation.
Aelin kept her head between your legs, coaxing you through your orgasm as tears pricked your eyes. You had never had a release that intense, and somehow they both knew it.
Before you knew what was happening, Aelin and Rowan flipped you around so you were on your hands and knees. Panting, you didn’t have time to protest before Aelin gripped handfuls of your ass and delved back in with her mouth. You couldn’t tell if you let out a scream or a sob. You were so sensitive, core throbbing as the queen mercilessly continued her attack on it, twice as vigorously as before. Tears now flowed down your cheeks, and you tried to wriggle away but her grip was too strong.
Rowan looked down at you, and for a moment concern took over his face and his eyes seemed to say, are you sure this is okay?
Yes, please don’t stop, you mentally said, appreciating the fact he made sure you were okay to continue despite your attempts to wriggle away from Aelin’s mouth.
That predatory lust came back over his features and he stood up. Maintaining eye contact, Rowan pulled down his undershorts revealing his already hard, impressive length.
Your mouth watered, and arrogance shone in his eyes as your jaw slackened. You whined again as Aelin crooked her fingers inside of you, a sound that made Rowan’s cock twitch.
He knelt down in front of you, striking his length a few times before bringing it to your lips. 
“Let’s see what your pretty mouth can do, princess.” Rowan growled before pushing the tip past your lips.
You gladly opened your jaw wide, taking in as much of him as you could. He was so big, you knew it would take a bit of time before you could take him all the way. Your tongue stroked the underside of his cock and you sucked, and the prince let out a groan.
Gods help me, you thought. The noise Rowan let out sent a rush of pleasure through your body so strongly you were unable to think. The composed fae prince, moaning as you took him in your mouth was a scenario you had only dreamed of. It was animalistic, deep in that way you always loved his voice to be.
Determined, you forced your jaw to relax further, bobbing your head up and down. Sensing your eagerness, Rowan gathered your hair in one hand and thrust his hips. You gagged slightly, choking at the rough intrusion in your throat but relished the sensation. As Aelin continued to drive your pussy into a frenzy of pleasure, Rowan picked up a pace as he thrust into your mouth.
A few minutes passed as you got comfortable with the pace. Taking as deep a breath as you could manage, you leaned forward and took all of him in your mouth, sucking as best you could. Tears streamed down your face from the effort as you choked, happily giving him the image he had described earlier. Feeling brave, you looked up at him through your eyelashes, keeping him deep in your mouth. The sight nearly had you released on the spot.
Rowan was panting, that muscular chest rising up and down as his grip in your hair tightened almost painfully. He was looking down at you as you stared up at him for approval. His face was flushed slightly, a hint of his slipping restraint. You pulled off of him for a few seconds to get some air, but went right back down onto his length.
The prince tipped his head back and growled a moan to the sky, calling out your name. The sound of your name on his lips had that familiar coil tightening again as you approached your release. You tried to hold it off as best you could, but Aelin undoubtedly noticed and gave you no mercy as she once again doubled her efforts.
Your moan sent a wave of pleasure through Rowan, who continued to thrust into your mouth. However, your focus began to waver a few minutes later as your release approached fast. Rowan didn’t seem to mind, apparently focusing his efforts on holding off his own release to your dismay.
Your second orgasm crashed through you like a wave. Instead of pulling away, Rowan held your head firmly so your mouth was still around him, muffling your sobs of pleasure. Only when you came down from your high did Rowan allow you to release his cock.
Unable to hold yourself up any longer, you slumped to the ground as Aelin stood up, satisfied with her work. Your closing eyes snapped open as Aelin sauntered over to Rowan, your juices gleaming on her face. Without hesitation, she pulled Rowan in for a kiss.
You gaped at the couple as Rowan tasted you on Aelin’s lips. He groaned, wrapping his arms around her and bringing her in close to him. Their embrace was a beautiful sight – both naked and bathed in moonlight, their scars and tattoos shone amidst their toned muscles. Gold and silver hair contrasted with a divine beauty that would make the gods envious, making them truly look like a queen and a king. 
They stood there, hands roaming each other’s bodies until you whined, desperate to be near them again. They broke apart, Aelin laughing darkly.
“Look at her, we take our attention away from her for one minute and she’s whining like a desperate whore.” She said, coming to kneel next to your crumpled body. She stroked a hand through your hair, wiping it from your face.
“Our needy girl,” Rowan agreed, coming to kneel between your legs. He stroked a hand down your spine. “Is she ready for more, do you think?”
Before you could answer, Aelin cut in with a sugary sweet tone. “No, I think she’s done for the night. Looks like we tired her out early. Are you finished, little dove?”
Panic swept through you as you shook your head as vehemently as you could muster. It was too soon to be done, you wanted to stay here just a bit longer…
“Still begging for more, I see.” Rowan growled, grabbing your hips and flipping you onto your back so you were laying down on it. “Looks like we’ll have to give our princess what she wants.”
Keeping his hands on your hips, Rowan pressed the tip of his cock into you and pushed forward. The stretch of it burned, as you had never taken a male this large before, and you squeezed your eyes shut.
“Look at me.” Rowan commanded, slapping your thigh to get you to open your eyes again.
As he inched forward, slowly to try and make it less painful, those green eyes pierced yours. You maintained eye contact as he withdrew, then pushed in again – farther this time. Aelin was peppering kisses to your face holding in her hands and murmuring praises. After a minute you relaxed enough, and Rowan’s self control snapped and he finally thrust in fully.
Your eyes rolled back into your head at the sensation. You felt so full, the stars ahead whirling as Rowan’s cock pushed against that one spot. You glanced up at Aelin, searching for any sign of discomfort or jealousy in her eyes at her lover being inside another woman, but you found none. Her turquoise gold gaze was filled with lust, finally washing away any fears you had about getting in between them.
Hearing your moaning, Rowan picked up his pace, the grip on your hips sure to leave bruises the next day.  
“As much as I love hearing those noises from you,” Aelin cooed. “I think it’s time to return the favour.”
You nodded quickly, causing her to chuckle before she swung a leg over your face and planted her knees on either side. She lowered her glistening cunt towards your face, but it was too slow for your liking. Already sick of her hovering, you grabbed her hips and planted her firmly on your face.
The Queen of Terassen moaned loudly, surprised at the action. You were filled with pride as you gladly opened your mouth to taste her. Eagerly, you swept your tongue through her folds, then inside of her, and you moaned. She tasted heavenly, even better than you had imagined.
As Rowan began pounding into you with a relentless force, you cried out. This apparently appeased Aelin, who cried out as the vibrations from your noise travelled into her. She rocked her hips on your face, gripping your hair with both of your hands.
You were in heaven. The Queen of Terassen sat on your face as if it were her own personal throne, moaning your name like a battlecry while your body shook at the force of which Rowan thrust into you. He lifted your hips slightly and changed his angle, satisfied when you practically screamed under Aelin as his cock found that one spot that made you see stars. You looked up at her, admiring the view as her perky breasts rose and fell with her breathing, golden hair spilled around her frame like a veil. You reached up to grab them with one of your hands, kneading them like Rowan had with your own.
As you felt yourself getting close for the third time that night, Aelin released one hand from your hair and leaned back to rub your clit. The world began spinning as you shot towards your orgasm faster than ever before. It hit the hardest this time, your nails surely leaving dents in Aelin’s hips and breasts as you screamed their names into Aelin’s cunt. Her orgasm followed moments later as she cried out with your tongue inside of her, your hair in a death grip as her juices gushed into your mouth and onto your face, which you happily lapped up.
Rowan’s hips jerked a few more times and he let out a roar that likely sent the birds into the sky, shaking the earth as his release barrelled into your trembling body. The three of you remained in your positions as you rode out your highs, panting and groaning. After a few minutes, Aelin climbed off your face and laid down beside you. To your surprise, she entwined her fingers with yours, smiling softly.
“My girl.” She said quietly.
“Our girl.” Rowan added. He leaned forward and covered your shaking frame in his muscular one. He licked your face, lapping up Aelin’s taste before kissing you and slipping his tongue inside your mouth. Aelin squeezed your hand as you kissed him back before he laid down on your other side.
The three of you laid there in the clearing for a while, gazing up at the stars. Now that you had stopped panting, your brain was coherent enough to form words.
“I’m sorry I was rude and avoided you,” You said quietly, and both heads turned towards you. “I saw you two were so happy together and I felt so ashamed of myself. I didn’t want to come between you, but I couldn’t just be close to either of you and pretend I didn’t feel the way I did. I was so scared about what would happen if either of you found out about how I felt, so it was easier to stay away.”
Rowan slipped his hand through yours, stroking it with his thumb. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” He murmured.
“Don’t feel ashamed,” Aelin said, stroking your cheek with her free hand and bumping your knee with her own. “It took us a while to figure out that we both were interested in you. We still love each other, but why not have even more love if we can?”
You smiled, grateful that they understood your feelings. You did not wish to take one of them away from the other, you wanted them both. 
“Exactly,” Rowan added. “Love does not have to be bound between two souls only. If there is room and wish for more from all parties involved, why not take it?”
Heart full, you let the weight of your worries from the past few weeks wash away. You were their girl.
Forever and always.
✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧
Feedback is appreciated, thanks for reading! <3
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wanderingpages · 10 months
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idk if you do requests outside of jurdan but its been in my head like tattoo artist Rowan and receptionist Aelin? and dating? and like...smut? ahhh thank you bye
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Rowan frowns when he sees her, sitting on the step just to the side of his shop. It’s been raining on and off all weekend, only now subsiding to a foggy mist, turning the small town as gray as Rowan’s reluctant to admit he’s been feeling. Aelin is under an awning, so she isn’t quite wet, but the damp strands of her hair is enough to let him know she’s at least ran through a sudden downpour from her car to where she’s currently at. She perks when he approaches, squinting but the pretty gem like hues in her eyes are still breath taking to him. She’s grinning wide and it breaks something in him, something he hates to even acknowledge he’s built up over the past few days. Aelin stands, bouncing from her tip toes as he nears her. Even heightened by the step, he still towers over her. She doesn’t mind tilting her head up, though.
“Hi,” She says.
His lip tilts upward, “Hi,” he responds. She takes a step to the side, and he reaches behind her to open the door. He gestures her first, letting her lead the way up the steps, to his apartment. Her shorts are high waisted, and he’d always tease her about her pairing it with oversized sweaters, much like she’s wearing today, because it made no sense to him - to be only partially warm. He does not point out the goosebumps on her legs, knowing he’d only get a narrowed eye response instead.
“Sorry I didn’t call,” She murmurs, ruffling her hair a bit. “Wasn’t sure if you’d answer, with your appointment today.” As his front receptionist, Aelin is well versed in all the clients booked for months in advance, so he’s not surprised that she knows he had an eight hour session, inking a regular customer of his. She probably also knows he should feel absolutely drained right now -  barely managing to remember to buy food before returning home - but he’s not. Rowan is absolutely zinging with unchecked energy.
It probably started the day she walked into his shop to answer an ad the previous receptionist had posted. Sparked when she’d ask him to pierce her not long after. Maybe it snowballed with her opting to stay behind after hours, using the break room for her class assignments, quietly keeping him company when sessions had flown well into odd hours. It definitely ignited when she’d kissed him goodnight on a whim, running off to her car before he’d even gotten the chance to comment.
It's been kindling when he’d gotten her chocolate during his lunch break one day and then every day after. When she'd left him a note the next day. When he had invited her up for dinner, when he had dropped her off to class the morning after, picked her up some time in the afternoon. When he thought it was cute when she eyed the women who get inked by him, flustered him when he felt jealous over a guy flirting with her.
They hadn’t been shouting it from rooftops. In fact, if Rowan’s honest with himself,  he’d been the one to keeping it under the radar – he’d felt bad enough because of the age gap, but to add the fact he’s her boss as well? Yet, roles applied still didn’t mean Aelin did not have complete control over him, mind body and soul. It took him a while to accept it, but he was all hers.
He just finds himself wondering if she was all his, too.
She reaches up to the ledge above the door, finding the spare key he’d shown her some time ago, and easily opens the door, jiggling the knob just right and giving it a quick kick after turning the key twice. She holds it wide open for him, toeing off her soaked kicks as he enters. He sets the food on the counter, before working on his boots and tugging off his hoodie.
“Were you waiting long?” She leans against the shut door, watching him undress like she hasn’t seen it more than a few times before, still it reddens her cheeks, despite the utter conservativeness of it all. She bites on her lip like she’s waiting for a show and he can’t help the small chuckle he lets out.
She shakes her head, coming back to the moment. “No." She shrugs as if its any consolation for her wait, "I missed you,” she smiles at him, almost shyly. It had been some time since they’d last been able to speak to each other properly. Despite her spending most nights with him, she had requested a few days off of work for finals, and he was at that point of the year where all him and his artists were booked until the end of summer. Still, he’d manage to find a few hours, and eager as he was to finally just be with her, Aelin had turned him down. He’d been too late, apparently, she’d already made plans. He frowns, trying not to think about it, hating the way it makes him feel, if he’s to be honest with himself.
“Missed you too,” he lets her know, heading to the cupboards to grab some plates. He divides the food, half for him and half for her, while she takes a seat at the table, tucking her cold toes beneath her. They talk idly, comfortably, touching when they can – hands, shoulders, knees. They seem to only gravitate closer to each other, stealing from the other’s plate, talking lower to have their heads meet in the middle, leaning closer to steal quick kisses – it’s all very domestic, so then why is Rowan feeling so goddamn feral?
They’ve managed to move to the couch, he’s leaned back watching a game he can’t quite say who’s winning or what sport it even is and Aelin is turned to face him, kneeling beside him, feet tucked like they had been before and she’s touching the ink on the side of his face tracing the patterns to the scruff of his hair. “When are you going to ink me,” she teases.
“When you know what you want.”
She rolls her eyes. “Your roots are growing,” she comments, tugging lightly at the overgrown locks where dark meets silver. He smiles but it's wary. His hand rests on her hips and he squeezes lightly, and without thinking, he leans his head on her, pleased to find that thump of her heart beating roughly against his ears. Aelin lets out a sigh, raking her fingers into his moonlight locks and finally asks, “Is something wrong?”
“Hmm?” he debates on bottling it up, because maybe this is a generational thing and dating means something different to him than it means to her.
“You seem… out of touch with me,” and her voice splinters at the end, going so soft, it almost gets drowned out by the insistent pumping of her heart in his ears.
He holds her tighter, and finally admits, “I… I walked by the bar after work that day.” Maybe she hadn’t meant to purposely leave out exactly whom she was planning to meet up with, but the guilt ridden look on her face tells him that she’d thought nothing good would come from Rowan knowing this information. “Did you think I wouldn’t know about your date?” he tries to smile but it feels all wrong – he had tried to be teasing, but he’s hurt – angry even. “Or did you think I wouldn’t have trusted you?”
“We were just talking,” she tells him, “It wasn’t anything serious.” Rowan holds his tongue, figuring maybe if he’d been more public with their relationship instead of sneaking in kisses during the day when no one’s watching, treating dates as secrets, and avoiding answering questions by their peers, maybe he wouldn’t feel as shitty as he does now. “I should have told you – but I didn’t think it meant anything – it still doesn’t mean anything.”
He tilts his head to look up at her, holds her steady and reaches with his free hand to touch the ends of her hair, twisting sunlight around his finger almost absently. “This is new – everything with you is new,” he confesses. He doesn’t want to be that guy – the one who’s insecure about his girl hanging with other guys, doesn’t want to second guess when she says she’s made plans. He traces down her arm, grabbing the tips of her fingers and leading them to his lips, kissing them lightly. “I trust you,” he lets her know, “So please,” he begs, watching the flush in cheeks, the tug of her bottom lip between her teeth, “Don’t make a fool out of me, Aelin.”
“I promise,” she says, not even a beat later and just the same, he’s tugging her on top of his lap. The television casts an array of colors like an aura behind her – godly, he thinks. She bends forward, her hair curtaining them, encasing them with a familiar scent. “Maybe I should have let you known,” Aelin says quietly, “That when I'm with you, I'm with you. No one else.” Rowan’s hand glides just under her sweater, fingers splaying where he knows birthmarks hide. His other hand weaves gently into her hair, pushing strands back, behind her ear, palm pressing to her cheek, holding her face steady when he shortens the distance and kisses her so softly. Her toes curl, knees on either side of him squeezing his thighs. He brings her closer to him, so close the fabric of their clothes begin to imprint and indent against their skin. “I’m sorry,” Aelin murmurs against his lips.
She’s rough when she’s kissing him again, desperate, like she needs to show him she means it and this is the only way she can think of. And when Rowan bites at her lips, he knows she doesn’t mind because her hands are at the nape of his neck, pulling him deeper against her, then she guides his lips down her neck when she can’t seem to get air in her lungs. His teeth scrapes against her flesh, her nails against his. He breaks only to get her sweater off, digits immediately at her navel, fingerprints covering the golden charm he had so carefully pierced into her skin. He mouths at her breasts, pulling her bra down enough to latch on to a nipple. She calls out his name in surprise, hips grinding hard against his. His tongue flicks roughly against the nipple before it flattens over her, soothing the ache while Aelin rubs her hips against his, frantic for more friction.
He should slow down, he thinks, biting at the swell of her breasts, blooming pink and reddening marks wherever he can. He’s never been this rough with her before, never thought of his markings as punishment - but she’s guiding his hand to her the buttons of her shorts, fumbling to get them undone, “Rowan… - I, ahh,” she doesn’t mind. More, she wants to say, but she doesn’t have to, his fingers are right where she wants them, working fast and expertise, having her panting and quivering and he’s not even in her yet, just rubbing her between her folds, soft then faster, and when he presses down on her clit, she’s screaming into his shoulder, trying to muffle her cries when she comes.
She’s still breathing rough when he has her on her back, her bra behind the couch, her shorts and underwear right at his feet. His shirt came off, but his jeans are just barely undone, settling below his hips, because he’s feeling so fucking frantic. “Wait – ah,” she throws an arm over her eyes, trying to settle the stars swimming in her vision, “need to breathe,” she tells him, though she lets him spread her legs wide and position himself right between her. Her stomach tenses on the contact alone. Her chest heaves up and down, she’s coming down but not quite there yet. Her body jolts and she twitches involuntarily, knees shaking when the tip of his cock slides right between her folds.
He likes her like this – he likes her in a lot of different ways, but especially this. Her hand flies to his bicep and he has a full view of how her face contorts, how her eyes screw shut so tight that her nose scrunches up. “Look at me, princess,” he murmurs, “let me see those pretty eyes,” she opens her eyes, a wave of colors akin to the sun meeting the ocean, and her lips part as he slides his cock up and down, pressing the tip to her clit. His breath is hot in her ears, “You can catch your breath later,” is all the warning he gives her when he pushes into her.
She cries out, fingernails digging into his arms, eyes rolling to the back of her head. “Ah!” she’s not yet fully back from her first orgasm, but it already feels like an onslaught of much more hitting her in succession, too quickly, too soon. One of Rowan's hand is holding a thigh in place, at angle just right, hitting her fucking womb with every thrust. His other hand is placed against her stomach, and she feels like she’s going to explode – at a loss for words, at a loss for all her senses, Aelin really only knows his name. “Ro – ah… ah! Ro...wan…” She manages to move her hands to his face, pulling him closer, heads touching when she gets lost in his eyes. Tears prick, and her breath catches. Her chest feels so tight but she just wants him to consume her. “Ah…” she manages just hoarse little noises, overwhelmed he’s fully inside of her, and he begins to just rotate his hips enough that his pelvis rubs against her swollen clit.  “Want… it…” she gets out, gibberish in her slurs, “Want you…”
Rowan moves out of her slowly, “You’re so good,” he murmurs, thumb moving to press her clit. She weeps, drawing blood when her nails scrape down the back of his neck. He feels himself sliding in and out of her, the palm of his hand practically caving into her abdomen. He’s fucking her so deep and so hard, he feels like he’s absolutely losing himself in her. “You look… so beautiful,” Rowan whispers, maybe for the first time with the way her eyes flash in surprise. “Look how well you take me,” he murmurs, in place of the awful possessive shit he really wants to say. "So good..." He’ll hold his tongue from saying, “this is mine – you’re all mine.” He makes sure to embed it into her skin instead, makes sure Aelin still feels him when this all over, makes sure he leaves his marks on her like lewd little tattoos.
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golden-kingdom · 1 year
Text
Favorite Crime - Chapter 1
Word count: 2.8k
Warnings: There will be eventual sexual explicit scenes and there will be violence and blood in most chapters
Author's note: This is my first chaptered fic so please be easy on me. I'll try to update as often as possible, but I can't promise a schedule. I don't have the whole thing planned yet but I know where I'm going.
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“Terrassen Senator Aedion Ashryver was officially nominated by the Democratic Party as their candidate for President of Erilea in the upcoming election against incumbent President Maeve Valg. Senator Ashryver is the nephew of President Galathynius who, as we all remember sadly, was assassinated by an unknown shooter in 2007. President Galathynius’s wife, Evalin Ashryver, and their 10-year-old daughter, Aelin, were also killed in the event. It remains one of the worst moments in the history of Erilea. In his speech earlier today, Senator Ashryver emphasized the importance of making Erilea a country where everyone feels safe again…”
Celaena took her turquoise eyes off the TV in front of her and downed the rest of her drink. She was looking for the bartender, she needed another drink, when a man sat down next to her and turned to face her.
“Hi beautiful,” he slurred out.
The man was old enough to be her father. His head, almost completely bald, was shining with sweat. He was looking at her with a salacious gaze, his eyes blurry from all the alcohol he had ingested. The man got closer to her and she could smell his breath reeking of cognac. He tried to grope her, and she was ready to tell him to fuck off and hit him in the balls when a strong hand grabbed the man’s arm.
“Leave her alone,” said a deep male voice in a menacing tone.
The creepy man tried to wriggle his arm out of his grip, but the other man wasn’t budging.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” he said, trying to sound threatening, but failing.
“I’m her boyfriend. I suggest you leave this bar and never try this again,” the man behind Celaena growled.
The disgusting old man took a step backward, almost tripping on his own feet. He grabbed his jacket and stumbled out of the bar with a frightened look.
Celaena turned to look at the man who had intervened. He was tall, taller than most people, and she could make out the muscles of his body through his fitted white shirt. He was looking with anger in the direction where the man had just left, his features harsh, but when he turned his deep green eyes towards her, his face softened.
“Are you okay?” he asked her.
“I had this under control. But thank you,” Celaena replied, squinting her eyes at the man in front of her.
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself when I saw what was happening. I hate those kinds of men,” he explained, looking genuine.
Celaena nodded in understanding. She took in the man in front of her, his silver hair gleaming in the dim light of the bar. He was looking at her with curiosity in his eyes, like he was trying to figure her out. He cleared his throat.
“I’m Rowan,” he said, extending his hand.
“Lillian,” Celaena replied, looking up at him and shaking his large hand. She gave him a charming smile.
“Nice to meet you, Lillian,” he said, holding her hand a bit too long. He dropped it when he realized.
“Can I offer you a drink?” he asked her with a small smile. “As an apology,” he quickly added.
“I have to go, so maybe another time,” Celaena said.
She got closer to him, inhaling his scent of pine and snow, and whispered in his ear.
“I’ll see you around, Rowan.”
She flipped her golden blonde hair over her shoulder, knowing his eyes were on her. She left money on the bar for her drink and headed towards the door, looking back at Rowan, who was still sat on the stool at the bar with his gaze on her. She threw him a wink before leaving.
When she was outside, she smiled to herself.
When Celaena arrived at her apartment, she noticed a faint light beneath the door. She reached for the gun in her bag and listened for a few seconds. There weren’t any noise coming from inside. She switched the safety off and held her gun ready to fire. She unlocked the door quietly and, in one swift move, entered the place. There was someone sitting in her living room and she was aiming at their head, ready to shoot, when they turned around.
“Hello darling,” a voice she knew too well drawled.
She pulled down her gun, annoyed.
“I told you not to do this, Arobynn,” she said, putting her gun and her bag on the counter and removing her stilettos.
“Aren’t you happy to see me?” asked the auburn-haired man in a sarcastic tone.
“Not when you come into my apartment unannounced when I’m not there,” she replied curtly.
“Need I remind you who this apartment belongs to?” Arobynn said, his face passive, but his gray eyes filled with threat.
“I need to shower and go to bed. Did you need anything?” Celaena asked, impatient.
“Can’t I just come and see my favorite assassin for no reason?” he said with a smirk. “Tell me. How was your night, Celaena?”
“Fine,” she said, too tired to play this game.
“I told you to stay away from Whitethorn,” he said, not playing anymore. His eyes were gleaming with rage.
Celaena stopped in her tracks, composing her face, and looked at her boss.
“I just wanted to see what kind of man I’m going against with,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady.
Arobynn stood up from his seat and walked up to her.
“You disobeyed me,” he said, his voice filled with violence.
Celaena didn’t see the slap coming, but she definitely felt it. She put her hand on her cheek where he had hit her, trying to contain her anger.
“You know what happens when you disobey me,” Arobynn told her. “Don’t do it again.”
Celaena didn’t say a word. She didn’t trust herself not to say something that would put her into more trouble. She gritted her teeth.
“But this isn’t why I’m here…” Arobynn said, his voice going back to normal in an instant. “I have a new target for you.”
Arobynn handed her a folder and she opened it, looking at the details inside thoughtfully.
“It must be done tonight,” he added in a firm tone.
She was about to protest, her bed was calling her, but she remembered who she was dealing with.
“It will be done,” she replied.
“Good,” he simply said before leaving as quietly as he had come in.
Celaena headed to the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. Her cheek was red and she probably would have a small bruise, but she had dealt with worse. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her anger, and went to her bedroom.
She unlocked the door to her walk-in closet with a magnetic card and walked inside. She strode past her designer clothes and accessories and went straight to the back. She grabbed a black outfit from the rack where dozens of the same dark clothes were hung.
When she was done changing, she turned around and looked at her stack of weapons. The whole wall was covered with guns, daggers and all kind of tools that helped her accomplish her missions. She grabbed her favorite dagger, holstering it around her thigh, and a gun in case anything went wrong. But nothing ever went wrong, she was the best and she knew it. Putting on her hood to hide her face, she went out into the night.
His phone started ringing loudly and Rowan woke up, cursing whoever was calling him. He looked at the clock. 5:30 am. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. He grabbed his phone and replied.
“Yes?”
“It’s Salavaterre. We need you on a crime scene.”
“It couldn’t wait until I got to the office in a few hours?” he complained.
“It’s her,” Lorcan said, and Rowan instantly sat up in his bed, now wide awake.
His boss didn’t need to specify who he was talking about.
“I’m on my way. Text me the address.”
Rowan got dressed quickly, grabbing his gun and his badge. Half an hour later, he was parking next to the address he had been sent. There were police cars all around the building. He showed his badge to a police officer and was let inside. The building he walked into was a luxurious one in the richer part of the town. He passed the empty reception and headed straight to the elevator. When he got to the eight floor, he was met with tons of people milling around. He spotted his boss and walked up to him.
“Follow me,” Lorcan simply said.
They passed under the yellow tape the police had put around the crime scene and stopped next to the body of man in his fifties. He had clearly been dead for a few hours. There was blood on the floor coming from where his throat had been slashed viciously.
“Who is he?” Rowan asked, examining the body.
“Erawan Perrington. He was a big-shot lawyer who tended to associate with the wrong kind of people.”
Rowan looked at the crime scene, taking in the details. There were no signs of fighting, the man probably had been taken by surprise and didn’t have the time to do anything before he was murdered. The slash in his throat was deep and straight, like the person who made it didn’t hesitate even for one second. He didn’t have to ask but he knew there would be no fingerprints or DNA anywhere, and that the lock would have been picked.
Rowan put on his gloves and picked up the small piece of paper next to the body. He knew this sign all too well, The Guild’s signature. He put it back where it had been and left without saying a word.
He got back in his car and drove to the FBI headquarters in Rifthold. When he entered the place, he gave a brief smile to the young man at the security who let him pass. He took the elevator the third floor and headed to his office.
He sat down at his desk, quickly opening the first drawer and picking up a thick file folder with “confidential” written in red capital letters on it. He opened it.
Alias: Celaena Sadorthien
Name: Unknown
Date of birth: Between 1990 and 2005
Sex: Female
Employment: Unknown
Address: Unknown
Affiliation: The Guild (see report TG274576)
Physical description: Unknown
Offense(s):
First degree murder of Archer Finn (see case AF588676)
First degree murder of Bill Chastain (see case BC648753)
First degree murder of Ned Clement (see case NC879479)
First degree murder of Cain King (see case CK7663563)
First degree murder of Grave Brown (see case GB789648)
First degree murder of Kaltain Rompier (see case KR783645)
And the list went on and on…
Rowan pinched the bridge of his nose and closed the file. He had been tasked with apprehending Rifthold’s most prominent assassin for six months now. Nobody knew anything about her, it was as if she was a ghost. But Rowan knew all too well how real she was and what she had done. This woman was violent psychopath with no remorse and a taste for blood. She was a threat to this city and to the country. He would find her and put her behind bars, no matter what it took.
Mayor Dorian Havilliard approached the podium set up in front of a group of journalists. He cleared his throat and leaned into the mic.
“I am here to address the recent murders that have happened in this city and the rise of criminality,” he started, quickly interrupted by an eager journalist at the front.
“Mr. Havilliard, do we know who is behind the murder of Attorney Perrington?”
Dorian took the time to look at his press assistant to see how much he was allowed to divulge to the public. He turned back to face the journalists.
“While I am not allowed to reveal any name, the FBI has a suspect in their sights. They are working very hard to apprehend this person,” he replied with a reassuring tone.
“Is anyone safe in Rifthold? What are you going to do about it?”
“This why I’m here today. The city is working hand in hand with FBI agents and the RHPD to make Rifthold safe again for everyone. I can guarantee you that it will be handled quickly and that the people who are guilty of those crimes will be arrested soon. You do not have to worry. We have the best people working on this. You can sleep soundly at night knowing our streets are protected,” he replied, giving everyone his best charming smile.
Every journalist started speaking at the same time. Dorian was quickly ushered out of the room. In the next room, councillor Chaol Westfall was waiting for him.
“Do you know if there are any new elements to the murder cases?” the mayor asked him, worry on his face.
“The FBI has a team headed by one of the best, special agent Salvaterre, who is working day and night to arrest the people behind it,” Chaol replied.
“Well, they need to be faster. It has been going on for too long. Everyone is on high alert every day and it won’t be long before citizens start panicking. There needs to be some order restored to this city. President Valg is putting a lot of pressure on me to work this out,” Dorian said with a long sigh.
“Dor, it will be okay. Like you said, we have the best people working on this. It’s not like you can go out there and catch those criminals yourself. You need to let the FBI do his job. And stop worrying so much, you don’t want to look like your father in 10 years,” Chaol said with a mischievous smile.
“Please don’t ever compare me to my father again, Chaol,” Dorian said, disgust in his face.
His friend laughed and patted Dorian on the back.
“Come on. We have a meeting in 15 minutes.”
“Wow, I wouldn’t want to be the one who pissed you off,” said Lysandra with a bright laugh, entering the gym in The Guild’s manor. Celaena didn’t live there anymore, but she liked to come to work out in peace.
Celaena gave one last punch to the punching bag she was pounding into and turned towards her friend.
“Who said someone pissed me off?” she asked, taking a sip from her water bottle and wiping the sweat off her forehead.
“The look on your face and the way you are demolishing that poor punching bag,” Lysandra replied, implacable.
Celaena ignored her and started training again. She loved kickboxing, it was her favorite way to clear her mind. And the fact that it kept her body in shape so she could feel sexy in her skin-tight outfits wasn’t a bad thing either.
“What happened to your face?” Lysandra asked suddenly, worry on her beautiful face.
“Nothing,” Celaena replied, kicking with all her strength.
“Did he hit you again?” Lysandra asked, disapproval in her tone.
Celaena didn’t reply, she just kept on offloading her anger on the punching bag. Lysandra knew her too well. And she knew how Arobynn was. Her friend had been on the receiving hand of their boss’ violence before.
“What did you do this time?” the dark-haired woman asked instead.
Celaena finally stopped and sat down on the bench next to her friend. She removed the wraps around her hands, ignoring her bloody knuckles.
“I went to see Whitethorn,” she finally replied. “I wanted to know what kind of man I was up against.”
If Lysandra was shocked by Celaena’s actions, she didn’t let it show.
“And?” her friend said, trying to get her to say more. “How is he?”
“He’s nothing special. Just another cop who thinks he’s better than me,” she simply said, ready to move on to another conversation.
But Lysandra wasn’t having it. She looked at Celaena with a playful smile on her face.
“I wouldn’t say he’s nothing special… I’ve seen pictures of him, that man is definitely something. A filthy cop he is, but he’s hot as hell.”
Celaena snorted at that.
“He’s not my type. I’m not into Government bootlickers who think they are holier than thou,” she deadpanned.
“If you say so…” Lysandra replied mischievously.
Celaena got up, she didn’t need to hear any more of her friend’s insinuations. She grabbed her things quickly, ready to leave.
“Arobynn wants to see you in his office,” Lysandra finally said.
“Alright. I’ll just get cleaned up and change first.”
“Don’t make him wait, you know how much he hates that,” her friend added before leaving.
Yes, she knew exactly how much Arobynn hated to wait. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.
...
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llyncooljones · 2 years
Text
no fucking in the office - rowaelin month day eleven.
Tumblr media
ao3 || masterlist || rowaelin month ‘22 masterlist 
prompt: work rivals au
word count: 6633
trigger warnings: language, smut, nsfw, incredibly smutty. mentions of drugs and alcohol
tag list: @rowaelinscourt  @live-the-fangirl-life  @rowaelinismyotp  @rowanaelin  @fireheartwhitethorn4ever  @elentiyawhitethorn  @autumnbabylon  @leiawritesstories  @backtobl4ck
the office, early morning.
Glaring at Rowan Whitehorn was Aelin’s favourite thing to do. Something about narrowing her eyes, wrinkling her nose that little bit, and channelling all the hate and anger and dislike and distrust and (just in general) horrible feelings his way, satisfied a deep and yawning hunger inside of her.
So, she did.
Simple as.
She had a need. She had a way to satisfy the said need. She satisfied that need.
And then she did it all over again, at least three more times per day. Depending on her irritability, for how long she saw him, and whether they were close enough for her to glare at him, and for it to actually have an effect on him.
Because otherwise, she was giving herself wrinkles for no good reason, and that was not something she was interested in doing. And she accepted zero criticism on the fact that glaring at Rowan Whitehorn was a good reason. Because it was. And anyone who didn’t think so, was wrong in the most wrong way they could be: wrong according to Aelin.
And the damned thing was that they were both heads of different—and yet similar—media departments at the corporate-dream conglomerate they both worked for. Their jobs were exactly the same, they just handled different aspects.
Aelin Ashryver Galathynius headed up the film, television, and radio departments. She headed the department like no one else ever had, and she did so comfortably. She proofread everything that came across her desk, and she watched all the products she oversaw, she was a fan of everything she processed—because she felt that it was the business.
Rowan Whitehorn headed up the social media, newspaper, and magazine departments. He did his job surprisingly well for a man who had gotten into Harvard on his father’s dime, had joined one of those societies and one of those fraternities, and had got his job by asking his friends ‘whose dad works in media?’ But sadly, he actually was doing a good job, so Aelin couldn’t hate him for being shit and thriving off nepotism, because he was actually bringing in more money from clients than her.
Now, it had become a competition. At the end of each quarter, they added up the stats. Found out who was best, and who would be crowned. Bets were placed, and their bosses never knew. Their first competition had been a year ago.
He had brought in the winning numbers. And she could hardly believe it. She had stayed up hours, during those three months, made more edits, and proofread her documents and proposals more times than she had on her dissertation for university. She had done everything, she had wined and dined her clients, she had met them for drinks, and she had offered the best deals she could. And yet, Rowan Whitehorn was still beating her.
Losing, the first time they had ever competed, killed her spirit. Killed a little bit inside of her, made her wonder a little more often if she wasn’t as good at her job as she thought she was.
A year ago, she had decided that if she couldn’t beat him playing her own game, she would beat him playing his. See if his approach—whatever it was—would help her win. She devised a plan, and set it out perfectly. She cleared her schedule of meetings for a day, on the day that Rowan had prospective clients coming in for a meeting.
She’d bump into them, get to chat with them, ask who they were here to see. Insist she take them to the meeting room, become fast friends, and like magic, she would be invited to sit in on the meeting.
She remembered, distinctly, patting herself on the back for that one.
But after that meeting, everything changed. It happened for the first time, and Aelin wasn’t sure whether she regretted it, or whether she was all too happy it had happened.
It was a toss-up between the two, and she wasn’t which she would rather win.
a year ago, the office
Aelin had to resist the urge to fist bump the air, or whoever next walked by her. She was walking in line with Rowan’s latest client. A mid-size company preparing to launch its new product. They wanted him to take them on, do his thing, and help them succeed. And Aelin had no doubt he would—especially given the recent competition the two had had, which crowned him the better head of department.
She chatted idly to them, smiling, and laughing in all the right places, using fun, anecdotal stories to relate to them, and so that they would relate to her. she tried to include things they seemed to be interested in, made sure they were quickly becoming familiar.
She turned her body slightly, facing the small group more so, and asked innocuously, “I’ve been escorting you to this meeting room, and yet I have no idea who you’re here to see. I am sorry for my lack of manners, but let’s just be glad I remembered myself. Who is it you’re here to see if you can say?”
“Oh, no worries. And yes, we can say. There is nothing scandalous going on here. We’re meeting with Mr Whitehorn. He heads up the department we’re aiming to work with. And, gods, we cannot wait for this meeting. He has such a unique approach. He’s so hands-on and so attentive to our needs as a company, I’ve just truly never met anyone who can tailor a package so expertly. Gods, when we found he was interested in working with us, we all collectively shat our pants. He’s a fucking legend of the industry.” The facial expressions told the story for her, they liked him because he got other people to do his work. These poor people didn’t know.
If these were the services, which he provided each and every one of his clients, then how the fuck was he standing. To be this detailed, this precise, and still be functioning? Fake news. He wasn’t doing it all and then popping into the office with no bags under his eyes.
“Oh, Whitehorn. I know Whitehorn. He’s brilliant, work with him all the time. But I’ve never had the pleasure of watching him in action, particularly. Don’t know why I’ve never sat in on some of his meetings. I truly would love to delve deeper into his style of business. Always learning, always trying to be better. That’s me!” her tone was so incredibly fake; it was beginning to hurt her throat. She hadn’t talked so high-pitched since was a cheerleader in high school.
And much as she’d like to ignore the fact that she was ageing, high school was a while ago. And she was sorely out of practice. She’d need a chamomile tea after this, and a massive helping of chocolate cake to soothe the aches along her throat.
“Oh! I don’t know why I’m only just thinking of this, but why don’t you sit in on our meeting? We’d love to help you broaden your knowledge, and it’s really no skin off our nose, not to better the business. Mr Whitehorn will be fine with it; he’s always been so accommodating.”
To you, she thought bitterly, and he most certainly will not be fine with it.
Glee shot through Aelin, the thought of pissing off Rowan Whitehorn, making her so giddy she could barely contain her laugh—her cackle most likely. She felt extra witchy at the moment.
“Oh, that’s too kind of you. I would love to sit in, my brains like a sponge, always soaking up knowledge!” her vocabulary was killing her, she felt like a child, speaking so happily. She was happy, yes, but not so happy she would be using words you could only know if you had read the thesaurus for a bedtime story.
She was a little annoyed at herself. That she didn’t trust her natural tone and vocab choices to do the job, that she had to rely on accents and tricks to become accepted. But really, the price was fairly low compared to what others did. At least she wasn’t breaking the law.
The rest of the walk passed in quiet murmurs, and sad jokes that fell a little flat. Aelin blamed them on her moment of self-reflection, realising she wasn’t enjoying whatever this was. But she needed to be perfect, unassuming and cutesy, and innocent when she walked into that meeting room. That meeting room she should not be planning to walk into.
They arrived at the door, and through the glass she could see the man himself, reclining in an office chair, spinning gently with no care. He looked light and fluffy, and she knew that if he were a cake—he’d be baked to perfection.
To catch him off guard, she didn’t knock. Just barged in, rude and brash, and all those brutal other things that made her up, that made her Aelin.
“Rowan. Lovely to see you, I bumped into your clients on the way up to my office. Figured I would escort them, and the lovely people that they are, they invited me to listen in on your meeting today. They’ve already said that you won’t mind, so that’s lovely. Honestly, this is so kind of you.” She took control of the room, of Rowan’s reaction, immediately. If she explains things, he can’t go against them without looking like an idiot, and boom! She’s allowed to sit in on the meeting. Funny how that worked.
“Greta, Alberta, Noa. It is so great to see you all again. I have been looking forward to this meeting for the longest time. I’ve been planning like you would not believe. I have to get it right for you guys, I really hope I’ve managed to fulfil all your dreams with what I’ve done.” Fuck. She could see why people loved him, he was just so good at playing to people’s tastes, interests, strengths and weaknesses. It was as though he had taken lessons on how to.
It was probably taught in that stupid little secret society. Or maybe it just flowed in his blood, as money and brains did.
one hour later.
Aelin didn’t think she had run from a room as she had just run from Rowan’s meeting. She was truly disturbed. Utterly horrified. It made her feel sick. To her fucking stomach. She debated if it was worth it to go retch over a toilet. Make sure she wouldn’t be sick.
She decided not. Her trousers were too nice to be knelt on. Let alone knelt on, on a toilet floor. She shivered, not a chance in hell.
She also decided it wasn’t worth bringing a bin with her because then she would have to empty the bin and carry a bag of puke with her to the bins, many floors down in the basement.
No, she would just pull up her big girl britches, be strong, be brave, and make sure she was not sick. Because that would be even more humiliating.
With her office door locked, the blinds for her windows drawn, and her heels kicked off—left somewhere in her office—she slumped down in her chair and placed her head in her hands. She should have never gone to that meeting. It would have been better for her if she hadn’t, better for her mental health most definitely.
But maybe it would have been bad for her sexual health.
Because being in that meeting had awoken something long-hibernating inside of her. she had read enough romance novels, bought enough sex toys, and seen enough porn to understand what it meant to be wet, what it meant to have kinks. And she knew a lot of kinks. Knew a few of them intimately from previous relationships.
But she couldn’t quite believe she had a competence kink.
But, by the gods, did she. She knew she was into butt stuff, knew she loved a little spanking, some choking, some hair pulling. Rough sex was her idea of fun—but competence was a new one. But a fucking heady one, she felt high after watching Rowan fucking Whitehorn be competent to the extreme in that meeting.
So, fucking high.
The way Rowan had moved around the room, never tripping, never stumbling, never seeming unsure—he moved competently. And Aelin found it hot, found it fucking sexually arousing.
The way he spoke, enunciating perfectly, never mispronouncing, his word choices fabulous in a manner she’d never encountered—he spoke competently.
But then, his voice? Oh, sweet, merciful gods, Aelin had a voice kink as well.
It was deep and delicious, with a foreign accent twinging when he moved certain words through his throat, the way his letters rolled over his tongue, or caught on his teeth, or pushed from his lips. She was gone, gone to fucking heaven, to paradise. But a sexual paradise, of course.
And the way he used his hands, he spoke vibrantly, using gestures and a wide range of motions to emphasise his points, to display the excitement of a deal—he used his hands competently.
But his actual hands? Staring at those hands, made her realise her third new kink of the meeting. A hand kink, she wondered if it were real. Or if she needed to make it up.
But, his hands, veins running over the back of it, winding up his forearms in the kind of artwork she would buy. His fingers were thick, his nails manicured—smooth, with rounded edges, and healthy soft skin. A little tattoo on his middle finger, and she was desperate to know what it was.
She was getting wetter, sat in her desk chair, images flashing through her mind of him: competently using those fingers, competently dirty talking her into oblivion. She was so distracted she didn’t hear the jiggle of her door handle, the snick of a key in the lock, the hinges creaking ever so slightly when the door is opened.
She only realised her alone time, her period of self-reflective reflection time, was interrupted when fluorescent light bathed her in its corporate glow and shone holes into her retinas.
“What the fuck was that, Galathynius? I knew you were fucking shady, fucking desperate, fucking competitive, but to the extent that you’ll manipulate my clients into inviting you to our meeting so you could fucking spy on me? So, you could commit some distant relative of corporate fucking espionage? I hadn’t you to be so snake-like. But fucking trust me, I won’t forget!” the voice of Rowan Whitehorn pierced through the office.
She hated herself for thinking it, but she was consumed by the distinct sound of his shouting voice, of its strength and solidity, and how it shot through her nervous system and sent nerve endings haywire just about everywhere in her body.
“That was me being smart about this competition.” She spoke angrily, annoyed beyond sense, her anger was so potent; she was mad to the point of ripping her hair out. she stood from her chair, and rounded her desk to stand in front of Rowan.
“What do you mean? Being smart, you were just fucking spying on me? How is that smart?” disbelief clouded his tone, his anger seemed less though.
“Yes. Smart. Spying was incredibly smart because we were playing different games and competing for the same fucking prize. So, I figured I’d play you at your own game. See if I could beat you with your own tactics.”
“So, you were watching me learn my tricks, to work like me? That correct?”
“Yes. So, that we’d be on an even playing field. So, it would be a fair test or competition.”
“Alright. Tell me, what are my tricks? Examine my body language, tell me how I use words to manipulate my clients and tell me what my PowerPoint colour choices tell you. Come one, if you were watching my techniques so intently, tell me about them.”
Cruel. His words were cruel. There wasn’t a way on this planet that he had any clue she wasn’t paying attention, and yet he had managed to hit the nail on the head, blindfolded, drunk, and a hundred metres away from it.
“Well. You made sure to keep your hands unclenched, and open. Your arms were never crossed, you never slipped into a power pose. Shows you’re open, suggests that you and the client are on the same level, that you want to be there.” She only knew because she had been looking at his hands, so yes, she had analysed his techniques.
Just not the ones in relation to his clients.
“Alright. Very good. Now, my word choices.”
“Don’t talk to me like that. Like I’m your subordinate. I’m not. Don’t treat me like I am.” The venom spewed from between her lips, and she loved the sting of it against her lips, loved, even more, the reaction to it from Rowan.
His head jerked back. He looked a little shocked. A little puzzled.
But then he turned hungry. Got this glint in his eyes that told her he was going to eat her alive. And he would be damned if she didn’t enjoy it. She had never met anyone who could master facial expressions quite so, never met someone who could convey quite such meaning with a quirk of their eyebrows.
She’d also never met anyone who threatened to eat her, communicating via eyebrows twitches and lip movements. She’d never met anyone who made her believe they would, who made her believe they would make sure she enjoyed it.
But now, she felt as though she had known that person for a really long time.
“Alright. Tell me about my word choices. Or, tell me why you can’t.” his smirk hit peak smirk levels at that moment, he had never been more smug or full of himself. She’d also never felt so attracted to him.
“You used… a lot of connectives, to demonstrate the cohesiveness of your idea, and you also did that to show how ideas can flow, and how you want to be a smooth ride for them. Show that you won’t jerk them around, starting and stopping.”
“I used and twice, and not too many others. My points were all rather separate. Since you failed, Aelin, your forfeit is to answer the other question.” He made a face, sympathy mixed with unadulterated joy.
It disturbed her and made her wet. She loved this dominance. And she realised she had begun to be submissive, to his dominance in her office. In her own fucking office, he had dared to come in there, and then he had the nerve to trick her into submissiveness. Oh, he was going to feel her wrath.
“You think it's funny, Whitehorn? To manipulate women with whatever tricks your buddies taught you? That it’s all fun and games, a good old laugh and then not much more. Do you realise, that it can be incredibly damaging? That your games could be triggering. That you could be doing damage. No. You don’t, because you can’t think beyond yourself. Honestly, the fucking nerve of you—doing that to me. Go home and get your rocks off, I don’t ever want to see your face again.” She felt good again, comfortable in her own skin, scales and fucking all. She’d rather have spikes than have someone dig their own in her skin.
“Think that was going to stop me? That your little spiel was going to make me realise my own ill-morality? It hasn’t. It won’t ever, I know how to manipulate people, and I am all too happy to do so. You aren’t going to scare me off, keep trying though. You might make a dent one day, sweetheart.” His voice was sweet like condensed milk, his voice was death to her sexual attraction. (That’s what she told herself, in reality, she needed a new pair of underwear—stat!)
“I could only hope. But thank you for proving my point, that all you are is a pile of misogynistic shit, I had my hopes for you, but it’s no trouble to leave you in my dust when I report you. Probably the first person to do so, huh, you tend to prey on the weaker ones, huh? Can’t handle big bites with those little teeth?”
“Sweetheart, you think I don’t know?” his voice was like condensed milk, but even more condensed. She was concerned, even more so. Once more, she was worried he knew. But he couldn’t.
He couldn’t.
“I know you don’t. yeah, daddy’s money couldn’t buy you brain cells, could it? It’s okay though, you wouldn’t be the first person to fail. Don’t be scared of it.” Aelin resisted the powerful urge to rip his teeth from his gums, to pull his hair from his head. She was so beyond mad, beyond annoyed, this was the reason she had gone into corporate, so she could save people from business sharks who were actually clownfish.
“Sweetheart, you spent the entirety of that meeting hanging on my every word. Every time I opened my mouth, you balled your hands into fists. Every, single time. When I took off my suit jacket, you watched my fingers move over my buttons like you were a lion, and they were your gazelles. Trust me, I know.”
Panic. She was spiralling. He was lying. There was a whole lot of stuff going on, and yet none of it could help Aelin. Not one bit.
“You know nothing. You aren’t going to manipulate me. I will not be one of your victims. I won’t. have another go, I won’t fold.” Stay strong, she was begging herself to stay strong. She could not look at how he was biting his lip, how his eyes had darkened. How his sleeves were rolled up, how his veins were throbbing slightly, and pushing at the skin.
It meant he was hot. Aelin did not disagree, he certainly was.
He took a step forwards. Then another. Two more. She scrambled back until she was gripping onto her desk. He continued forward, adjusted the strap of his watch, raked his fingers through his hair, and pulled at his tie where it rested against the hollow of his throat.
All nervous ticks, and yet he made them seem to like shows of confidence. She wanted to kill him, because how very fucking dare he. How very fucking dare he, he couldn’t be a bad fucking person, and yet still be so fucking attractive. The world simply wasn’t allowed to work like that. No, not a chance.
He didn’t stop moving until she was leaning back over the desk, cradled around the front by the angle of his body until his hands gripped the desk beside hers, and he was bending down to whisper in her ear until he was rasping his stubble across the top of her ear. Not a common erogenous zone, but, of course, it just had to be one for her.
And he just had to be able to tell that.
“I know, Aelin, that those goosebumps on your arms aren’t because you’re cold. I know that you weren’t biting your lip to stop yourself from speaking, but for another reason. I know your panties are wet, soaked through. And I know you want me to pull up that skirt of yours.”
Maybe it was okay to back down. If she knew he was able to manipulate, but she was okay with being manipulated, and she was sure he wasn’t actually manipulating her. she was beginning to wonder if he only saved that for subtly changing clients' minds. And it wasn’t as though she didn’t do that, because Aelin did.
Maybe she wouldn’t be a victim, because she wanted this.
Even quieter than before, “Tell me no, Aelin, and I will go.”
And it’s those few words that make her grab his neck, pull his lips down to hers, and whisper into his own ear, quiet like he was, “I want you to fuck me like I won that competition. With all your anger, and all your annoyance.”
He takes it to mean don’t stop, to mean for him to keep talking to her like he has been, so he does. Gods, does he keep talking to her like she deserves it.
“You going to prove my point, or just stand there? I want those fucking panties in my hand, and I want them to be soaked.” Shivers. Gorgeous, beautiful, shivers.
He never moved from his position, still bent over her, still barricading. She worked around him, happy to move around him in this situation. Only too happy to bow to his superiority, as she soaks her panties beyond sense.
With straight arms, she shuffles her skirt up her thighs, baring tanned, soft skin to his feasting eyes, to his hungry-to-bruise fingers. Hurried thumbs yank at the sides of her thong, pulling it jerkily down her thighs, until it dangles off on foot, which she bends awkwardly so she can grab them.
Against her fingers, the fabric was wet. It left a clean, sticky residue on her fingers, and it made a lewd plopping sound when deposited onto Rowan’s oversized palm. He looked down, made a fist, and hummed with satisfaction.
He whispered once more, “Sodden, sweetheart. Such a good girl for getting wet when you’re being shouted at. So, fucking good.”
She moaned, loudly, at his words. She couldn’t contain herself, couldn’t handle the way he spoke those words, the way his accent tossed them around his mouth and spat them out sounding sexier than they ever had before.
“Sweetheart, you need to be quiet, otherwise the others will hear us. I’d love to be able to trust you, but you might become a silly, forgetful little slut during this. And we need to be careful, don’t we?” she moaned again, loudly again. Only affirming his point.
He gripped her chin, pulling her wide eyes to his narrowed ones, and gritted out angrily, “Don’t we, baby?”
“Uh-huh. Yeah, we do.” She couldn’t call him sir, during their first time together, she couldn’t call the other one either. No matter how much she wanted to, she wasn’t going to call her co-worker daddy in the middle of the office, the first time he fucked her.
“Seeing as you’re in agreeance, I’m going to have to gag you, sweetheart. Don’t worry, it won’t be for long, and if you tap my legs, I’ll take it out immediately. Yeah?”
“Yeah,” daddy, she had to stop herself from saying. She nodded quickly, trying to distract herself from the urge, from the need to say it.
With no more preamble, he pried her lips open and inserted the wet ball of her panties into her mouth. She moaned obscenely—but not loudly—as her own taste exploded in her mouth, tasting herself so thoroughly she can barely focus. The idea was heady. The reality was mind-numbingly arousing.
He slid a tantalising finger down the centre of her shirt, on its journey he allowed for it to catch on the middle of her bra. Pulled her bra down using it, until he let it go, and let it snap against her shoulders. It stung, and she moaned, but her gag silenced it.
With hurried fingers, he yanked her blouse from the waistband of her skirt. Pulled at the silken ends of her shirt until they were free, and he could yank it up, over her head, and let it fall gently to the floor. Her chest was heaving, up and down so fast, a red flush stemming from her collar bones and slowly fading.
Aelin scrambled to undo the clasp of her bra, yanking at the hooks until it came free, and her breasts were revealed to the cool, air-conditioned air of her office. Her nipples were pink and rosy, peaked and reaching toward Rowan like he was their God like they were his gods.
A quick pinch had her back arching, a second pinch had her wetness slipping down the inside of her thigh. The third pinch had her begging loudly through the gag, not to be heard.
With Aelin distracted, Rowan worked on her skirt, pulling it down over her hips, yanking it brutally when it would move. After too much time, the stinging sensations on her nipples were wearing off, and the skirt was finally around her ankles.
She was naked, entirely bared to Rowan, whilst the door was unlocked, whilst anyone could walk in. And all it did was make Aelin wetter, was make Rowan harder. Make them both more desperate to fuck.
She was amazed, at how in tune they were despite this being their first sexual encounter. It usually took a guy a couple of tries to understand her needs, and none of them had ever been able to do it instinctively before she even realised that she felt that way.
His broad shoulders were posed between her thighs, pushing the supple out, spreading her legs, showcasing her core to him in the truest, illicit way.
He knocked her clit with his nose, sniffed deeply, and exhaled onto her clit, the nerves screaming violently at her, pitch forks and torches at the ready if they didn’t get what they wanted. And they wanted satisfaction.
“We need to hurry, sweetheart, because I have another meeting in twenty, and you have another in half an hour. The good news is, that your little cunt is so good and so pretty that it’s already so wet. So, I don’t need to waste time getting you ready, apparently, it only took me shouting at you to make your pussy hungry for cock.” His tone was cruel, his words we cruel, and yet Aelin was looking at Rowan with some sort of sex-induced admiration because she had never been made to feel this way by anyone else. “You ready for my cock, baby, ready to take it in that greedy pussy of yours. That fucking slutty pussy, so wet already.”
He stood and his height only served to make Aelin rub her legs together, those bunching muscles making her whimper—at the thought of what they could do to her. With a firm grip on her hips, he twisted her over, so her breasts were pressed against the cool material of her desk, and so she had to tilt her head to the side, so she didn’t smash her nose.
With so little effort, she could hardly believe he could do it. She couldn’t deny that it turned her on, that he treated her like a doll, that he was strong enough to do so.
A hand rested on the small of her back, whilst the other delved into the pocket of his slacks, to grab his wallet and extract a condom. He tore the packaging with his teeth, and she hoped he didn’t tear the latex, really hoped.
If she was debating calling this man daddy, she couldn’t have a baby calling him that too.
He rolled it on with practice she was grateful for, and notched himself with confidence, and fucking competence, at her opening. Nudging her clit first, he began to enter Aelin. He stretched her blissfully, stretching what needed to be, rolling against all those hard-to-reach spots with fingers.
Thick fingers trailed up her spine, grabbing the nape of her neck, before sliding to grab her hair in a tight, unmoving fist. With leverage she hadn’t found in anyone else, he pulled her back into a slight curve, her body cooperating in harmony with his will.
With each hard thrust, with every roll of his hips, Aelin was moaning, grunting slightly, or praising the thickness of his cock. She had her hands pressed against the desk, needing so desperately to have an anchor to the real world because her co-worker's dick was surely about to send her into heaven like it was God.
She was definitely praising it like it was the lord like it was a blessing, and a miracle and good, fucking brilliant. “You fuckin’ like that, huh? Having your hair pulled on like your gonna follow, well-behaved like you know this is your place. Didn’t even try to fight me when I put my dick in you. Why would you when you’re already so wet, so needy and desperate for cock that you were dripping down these soft thighs of yours.”
She loved it.
He let go of her hair slowly, lowering her middle down to the desk, continuing to thrust, not feeling sorry about the bruise she would have along her hip bones from the desk at all. When she let her chin rest on the desk, Rowan’s cock unmoving, and so thick inside of her that she might just orgasm like this, he grabbed each wrist and placed them at the small of her back.
The other hand loosened his tie, yanking it from under the starched collar to wrap it three times around her wrist before tying it in a bow so pretty he wanted to picture it. He wanted to take a picture of the unholy stretch of her pussy around the thick, ruddy root of his cock, the little rosebud of her ass. Clenching in time with her pussy around his cock.
Aelin was feeling crazy bent over her desk, every time she attempted to thrust back on his cock, his thick thighs stopped her, every time she tried to rub her thighs together he stood more firmly between them, making sure they spread, every time she tried to grunt, he managed to move backwards and away from the needy bud of her clit without moving inside of her cunt.
Aelin was desperate, she was moaning with every breath she took, she was dripping down his balls as she became needier and needier, she was trying anything to give herself relief. A big palm cradled the back of her head, keeping it in place, whilst his other hand went around her wrists and his tie-bondage.
She knew he was gaining leverage, knew it meant he was about to fuck her until she saw God sixteen times over, and felt higher than she would after two lines of cocaine. He moved his hips back, and the soft scrape of his cock across the walls of her pussy had her mouth splitting open and her makeshift gag falling to the table in front of her.
A long, loud, ludicrous, and gaining Rowan’s attention. Moving his hand from the back of her head, thrusting in and out of her cunt at a speed she can’t comprehend, he pulls his index and middle fingers in front of her face. “I can put my thumb there, baby, if you’re more comfortable with that?” his words stuttered slightly, feeling the effects of her warm, wet cunt and the arousal dripping out her pussy.
She wraps her lips around his fingers and lightly bites at them, digging her teeth in harder than necessary. to the extent that his heavy, steady, dizzying thrusts paused, and his hand came cracking down on her ass. she did it again, just to test her theory, and his hand once again slapped against the fleshiest part of her ass and sent pleasure travelling to all areas of her body.
Sent her pussy clenching crazily around his dick, her clit begging for attention.
Even in the form of slaps and spanks.
His thrusts turn frantic, desperate. Each thrust has him gasping out praise for her, calling her his best whore, telling her she’s the best fucking cunt he’s ever felt. Aelin’s eyes are welling up as her orgasm approaches, as the edge comes closer.
Her cunt is squelching and clenching, and she’s gasping for breath. She’s not quite sure of her own name, but as she reaches her peak, as her orgasm spreads along her nerves from head to toe, she sure remembers Rowan’s. Dropping his thick, saliva-coated fingers from her mouth, “Fuck, Rowan, you’re fucking me so good. Don’t stop, don’t stop, oh my gods!” her breathing has never been so heavy, she’d never felt so heady, she can feel her orgasm begin.
And then she shatters, feeling herself in every nerve ending, feeling insane as she comes, moans leaving her mouth, all sorts of praise about the fucking stupendous cock that was fucking her steadily through her orgasm.
Fucking her until his thrusts stuttered until he hit her g-spot so brutally she screamed and felt a smaller, second orgasm spread through her body and send her limp on her desk.
Buried to the very hilt, balls against her thighs, Rowan was coming. Hips juddering and jerking, mouth open, sweat dripping artfully down his temple, caught at the end of his eyebrow.
After his final jerk, he slumped over Aelin. Cradling her in his arms, so intimate for two people, who thirty minutes ago hadn’t ever been stood next to one another.
He stayed, slowly softening inside of her for a while, breathing heavily onto her bare shoulder blades, whilst her own heart thumped, and her own breath was not yet ready to be caught. It was too long, by one-night-stand standards.
But neither seemed to care, both seemed to love the calm, the quiet, the simplicity of life in those post-nut clarity moments. But soon, Aelin knew she would panic over sleeping with Rowan. And unbeknownst to Aelin, Rowan would be stressing out because he’s finally given in, and now she believed he was an asshole manipulator, not just her opposition in healthy competition.
All too soon, Rowan pulled out and slipped the condom off, tying the top and wrapping it in tissues, before dumping it in her bin. Then he was tucking his dick back into his underwear and his slacks, doing up buttons, zips, and belts. Righting his hair and dabbing at his forehead with some tissues to get rid of the sweat there.
All while Aelin was still stuck in her tie-bondage. Rowan was apologetic over it, sorry that he hadn’t been more attentive. But Aelin didn’t mind, it gave her a few moments to cool off, and calm down. Which she most certainly needed.
He was rubbing her wrists as she sat up slowly but dropped them the second he realised what he was doing. Because that wasn’t very Rowan Whitehorn of him. She slowly got dressed, finding her clothing in all the spots it had been discarded.
A throat was cleared, and an apologetic Rowan stood before her, “Sorry. About your panties. Your day is probably going to be really uncomfortable after this, didn’t really think of that.” It was the first time Aelin had seen him look sheepish, and she felt her heart constrict when he gripped his wrists together and tugged.
He truly did look torn up over it, his concern made her feel torn up.
“It’s no worry, I have a couple of spare pairs in my desk drawers anyway, you never know what could happen. A period leak, or kinky, panty-gag sex with your work rival. Ha.”
He walked out of the door like that, and Aelin found that for the first time, she didn’t want to celebrate when she saw his back. She decided she wanted to see it in a mirror as he pounded into her, all those back muscles she didn’t know the names of working to help him, pleasure her.
And decided she would make it happen. No matter what. She would make Rowan Whitehorn fuck her again, and she would figure out if he really was that much of an asshole.
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tomtenadia · 2 years
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Confessions--rowaelin
Thanks for the ask ❤️
Just a quick one shot just under 1k words.
I hope you like it.
Heathens and cakes
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Rowan was all nervous as he moved around his kitchen while setting up all the ingredients before starting to cook. 
It was sort of a special night and he had to admit that he was nervous. 
His girlfriend of two weeks, Aelin, was coming over that night and he had promised her a full meal after he had bragged endlessly that he was good in the kitchen. She, on the other hand, was hopeless. So after that admission he had been more than happy to offer to cook. 
They had met in a bookstore a month prior. When Aelin was about to pay she realised that she had no purse with her. Frantically she had started rummaging in her bag while she was panicking at the same time.
She had been apologising to the cashier lady and telling her that she had to get that book because it was the last in a trilogy she had loved and she ad to know. She had cleared her evening to pull an all-nighter and read the book in one sit.
Rowan, who was a book worm too and was buying the same book as well, crouched down and helped gather all of her stuff. He had been amazed at the quantity of things she had in that bag. 
Once they were done, he stood and grabbed her copy of the book “I’ll pay for this one too.”
Aelin had stared at him in disbelief.
Rowan had paid and passed the book back to her “I was planning to do the same. I am so looking forward to know how it finished.”
Aelin wanted to kiss him.
They moved away from the till and he extended his hand “I am Rowan, by the way.”
She beamed at him “I am Aelin,” a pause to grab a piece of paper and a pen “Give me your number so I can contact you to pay you back.”
Rowan shook his head “Go on a date with me and we can call this a first date present,” he chuckled “Plus, I finally have some one to talk to about this trilogy.”
Aelin scribbled down her number and he did the same.
The date had been a success. They had gone for a walk in the park and they had spent the day talking about the books and many more. Aelin was obsessed with fantasy just like him.
All the dates they had they ended up in bookstores or exploring Orynth and book shopping. He realised that he had no idea what Aelin liked for food. That had been a great oversight so he was concentrating on comfort foods. A nice potato roast and some appetisers seemed safe enough. He had also bought wine and hoped he had chosen well.
All of a sudden he realised they were still getting to know each other. And if the first stages of a relationship were always the most exciting he was terrified of scaring her away. Aelin was amazing and he really liked her.
At seven the doorbell rang and he went to open.
In front of him stood Aelin, with a lovely blue sun dress that matched her wonderful eyes. It was summer and her face was flushed a few freckles peppered her nose. The woman in front of him took his breath away. He had thought her beautiful from day one.
“Welcome, come in.”
He saw her smile and take in the delicious smell coming from the kitchen “Oh Rowan, it smells wonderful.”
“I hope it will taste good.”
“It better, you have bragged too much.
That he did.
She sat on the sofa and Rowan brought the tray with the appetisers to the coffee table “would you like some wine too?”
“Yes, please.”
After Aelin had the wine he ran back to the kitchen to check on the food.he noticed her pace around the house and browse his book collection.
“You have some great titles,” she called from the living room.”
“I am proud of it.”
The dinner had been a success. Aelin had polished it and asked for second. Rowan was beaming. He loved cooking and having a girlfriend who loved eating was perfect. He was already imagining cooking sumptuous meals.
What was not expecting was what came next.
“You know what would make this meal even more perfect?” She asked while sipping her wine “A delicious chocolate hazelnut cake.”
Rowan swore mentally. Fuck. It never came up. How was he going to tell her the truth?
“I…” he cleared his voice and tried to his his embarrassment “I don’t like or bake sweet stuff.”
Oh well, it had lasted a month. He had been lucky enough.
Aelin’s face morphed in horror “What do you mean you do not eat sweet stuff?”
“I just don’t like the taste of it. Plus it’s not healthy.”
Gods, he was really going to ruin everything?
“You are an alien.”
Silence.
“I am in shock.”
Oh yes, she was going to dump his arse now. Well done, Rowan. Top notch.
“That is a shocking revelation.”
He brushed his hand behind his neck “Sorry.”
Aelin crossed her arms and pretended to think about it “I guess I can forgive you because you are cute.”
“Just cute?”
“Don’t push it Whitethorn.”
A grin spread on his face.
Aelin then stood “I can overlook that you are a heathen because I have a confession too…”
He stare at her with curiosity.
She bent over and pressed a soft kiss on his lips “I love you.”
Rowan laughed and then cupped her face “I will buy all the cakes you want.”
And for their two months anniversary Rowan took her to her favourite bakery and let her buy all the sweet treats she liked.
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It is 3:37am on the Saturday before my finals and I just finished a 215k WIP rowaelin fic that has me IN TEARS.Anyone looking to get your heart broken, please read Illicit Affairs by @rowanaelinn
The smut is 100, the plot is 100, my heart is breaking at 100
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renxzs · 11 months
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Aelin Week - Day 6: Rowaelin | @rowaelinscourt | AO3 | Masterlist
Summary: Aelin is having a very bad day… or week. Okay, more like a very bad year. She’s in dire need of a little kindness and comfort. Although she tries to deny herself of it, feeling utterly undeserving—Rowan Whitethorn will deny her none of it.
Word Count: 3.5k
CW: basically shameless smut (18+ only), hurt/comfort, mutual pining, depressive thoughts, Aelin desperately needs a hug, mention of parental deaths, coworkers who become..a bit more, modern au
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I won't always have the words  to pull you back from the dark.
But I will always be here  to sit with you in it  and take your hand or wrap my arms around you  until it passes.
For every day of sunshine  there will be a night of darkness, 
but I want to spend  both of them with you.
—S.K. Williams
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Arobynn Hamel, her prick of a boss, slowly shook his head as the crease between his brows deepened. He flipped harshly through the pages of the case folder she had handed him moments ago.
Aelin’s body went rigid, preparing for whatever verbal lashing he was about to spew. Entirely negating the amount of time and effort she poured into this case over the last two weeks, discounting hard work she was actually proud of. 
She would not allow him the satisfaction of seeing the effect his condescension had on her, how truly deep it sometimes cut. She maintained a look of impassivity and waited.
“This is your best work? Really?” Arobynn scoffed derisively and leveled her with a hard stare, contempt rolling off him. Aelin focused on breathing steadily through her nose.
“If this is it, then I need you to do the fucking best of someone better.” His words were small glass shards being hurled at her, slicing and stinging upon contact. She curled her shaking hands into tight fists on her lap, nails digging into the flesh of her palms. 
Today had been shit, the general week a living hell. 
Then again, Aelin couldn’t honestly say many of her weeks spanning the past twelve months have been much different. 
This weekend marked the one-year death anniversary of her parents. One year since the tragic accident that  had left her entirely alone in this world. One year since unwavering guilt and shame had settled and made a home in her chest. 
Spoken out of hurt and anger amidst a heated argument, those final words to her parents only a handful of hours before they were just… gone would haunt her until the dark god came to claim her. 
Aelin could usually endure Arobynn’s volatile mood swings and mistreatment—weather the rage storm and emerge from his office relatively unscathed.
But this particular week…?
The very moment consciousness had greeted her this morning, she knew she should have stayed curled under the blankets and out of reach from the rest of the world.
Aelin expelled a long breath. It did nothing to relieve the heaviness twisting in her gut and weighing in her bones. It was a marvel how one could feel so heavy yet utterly empty at the same time.
She tipped her drained glass towards the nearby bartender. “Another, please.”
A moment later, a new glass was slid in front of her and her eyes fell to the sloshing liquid. She must look as pathetically dejected as she presently felt, considering the very generous pour. 
A chill of awareness pricked across her nape and skittered down the smooth curve of her spine as a presence sidled up next to her. Quiet flutters stirred low in her belly, and Aelin cursed her traitorous body’s response to his proximity.
Because of course it was him—she knew it was him without needing to look. It was as if she had a preternatural sense specially tuned to him. And she’d been more than aware of his presence across the room—felt him all evening. Those piercing green eyes boring into the back of her. 
Aelin refused to look at him. “Can I help you, Whitethorn?”
“You know,” he drawled, leaning his forearms onto the bar top next to her. “Agreeing to drinks after work typically entails actually sitting within the remote vicinity of those who extended the invitation.”
Aelin lifted the glass of dark amber liquid to her lips and took a long, pointed sip before speaking cooly, “I’m here for the drinks, not the company.”
Rowan slid into the vacant stool next to her. 
Not easily deterred, then.
A few silent minutes passed between them. Rowan patiently waited, watching her still. Aelin inhaled a long breath as frustration started to build. Couldn’t he just leave her alone to sulk in solitude? 
“What do you want, Whitethorn?” 
She couldn’t fully tamper the edge in her voice. All the better though. Maybe he’d take the hint and finally rejoin his rightful group of coworker-turned-friends.
The heat of Rowan’s gaze flitted across the side of her face. She took another drink. 
“Are you okay?” His soft sincerity caused her chest to constrict.
“Christ, Aelin—what do I even pay you for?” Arobynn flung the heavy file folder back across the desk at her. “Being a pretty face around the firm? You barely manage that lately.”
Her eyes closed against the resurfacing memory. The slight burn of unbidden tears pricked in her nose. Aelin sniffed then cleared her throat before speaking. “I’m fine.” 
Aelin met his stare in challenge, to show just how fine she was. But her voice had sounded strained, even to her own ears. It hadn’t gone unnoticed by Rowan either, if the gentle look of disbelief and concern were any indication.
Her chest felt like it was going to cave in. She couldn’t stand him looking at her like that. She didn’t need his kindness or concern. 
Didn’t deserve it.
Yet Rowan is always so fucking nice to her. Checking in during the day and inviting her to outings with their coworkers. Most recently, he’s started bringing his lunch over to eat at her desk once he realized she was never going to take him up on the invitation to join him and the others in the break room. 
Time and time again, he has tried to scale the icy fortress she’s spent years carefully constructing around herself. Yet his efforts seemingly remained undeterred, even with her doubled efforts to keep all others out throughout this past year of hell. 
Aelin threw back the last of her drink. She needed to get away from him before he made a crack in her barrier. Only the gods know he’s come close before. And something deep, deep down screamed at her to let him do it.
But once he did crack her open, only to find cold, ugly darkness seeping out—what then? He’d inevitably discard her like everyone else. Because why would he want that? Why would anyone? 
She couldn’t bare it. Couldn’t risk the hope of maybe having him just to lose him and have her chest hallowed out once more. 
Aelin slid from her seat and threw a few bills onto the bar top.
“Hey, hey—Aelin.” Rowan reached for her arm.
She whipped towards him with a withering glare that could usually send anyone running. Rowan didn’t falter.
“Talk to me,” he implored. 
“Why do you even care?” She demanded. 
Still seated, Rowan tugged her into the space between his legs. A quiet sadness swirled with the flecks of deep green in his eyes. 
“I just… do.” 
Aelin’s heart felt crumpled and emotionally stripped. 
Home. She just wanted to go home and curl up in her bed. Wanted to be done with this day—this dreaded weekend. 
“You shouldn’t.” 
Her lips pressed into a firm line to keep from wobbling.  Her gaze lingered in the direction of their coworkers huddled together in a circular booth. Laughing and joking and clinking glasses. Rowan should be over there with them, not here attending to her mess. 
She averted her eyes upwards, blinking a few times to keep impending tears at bay. A calloused hand smoothed down her arm until he wrapped his hand around hers. He squeezed gently.
“What do you need?”
A single tear streaked her cheek. Rowan’s free hand gently wiped it away. He kept quiet, but she didn’t even know what to say. What did she need?
So many things, all seemingly out of reach. 
So often the silence was deafening and the loneliness gutting within the dark place she’s locked herself, behind the icy fortress wall. Numbed for so long, she’s forgotten what it feels like to live. 
The silence stretched between them before she finally rasped, “To feel something.”
Rowan traced a thumb along her cheek. “Then let me help you feel.”
His words hung between them, their implication glaring and heavy. Every nerve in her body roared for his touch, his kindness, his comfort. Him. 
Aelin’s denied herself of all of it for so long, from anyone. Let alone from this beautiful man who refuses to let her fade to the black nothingness constantly on the brink of consuming her whole. This man who has unknowingly taken hold of her beaten down heart, bit by bit. 
Just this once. 
Just this once she could allow herself to give in, to  want him. Just for tonight. 
Her voice barely a whisper above the din of the bar, “Yes.” 
His small answering smile so soft, so warm, it made her chest ache. 
~
Aelin toed off her heels before stepping past the entry way. Her eyes flitted around the apartment, tidy and warm. Her focus snagged momentarily on a bookshelf nestled against the far wall. The spines a variety of colors, sizes, and conditions of wear. She was inclined to step closer and nose through what kinds of books filled his shelves, to gain a small insight into his mind—
Rowan moving deeper into the living room caught her eye though, and she turned to watch him ease onto a plush sofa. He offered her one of his rare soft smiles, then reached a hand out. 
“C’mere.”
Aelin approached him slowly until she stood between his parted legs. He looked so good like that, splayed out lazily. Lap and warm smile more than inviting. Heat emanated from his large hands as he gently gripped her hips. She didn’t resist, allowing him to settle her astride his muscled thighs. 
Her form-fitted work skirt rucked up to her hips so her legs could accommodate his width. Deep green eyes devoured the newly exposed skin, tracing calloused hands up the soft flesh before hooking behind her to pull her impossibly closer. 
Aelin’s stomach curled and skin pricked with the intimacy of their position. Never imagined they would ever be this close—never allowed herself to.
Rowan ran a hand up her back and she arched gently into the touch, chest pressing into his. It’d been so long since she was last touched like this. Her body craved it. 
So did her heart.
She closed her eyes against that thought. 
“This is just sex.” 
Rowan hummed noncommittally. He brushed loose tendrils from her face and smoothed them behind her ear. Her chest tightened as she settled her gaze back on him. 
“I’m serious, Rowan,” she hedged. 
He nodded softly, running a thumb along her jawline, over her bottom lip. “Is that truly what you want?” his voice hushed.
Was it? No. At least she didn’t think so. But…
“It has to be,” she whispered, resolute. 
His eyes pierced through her, burned to her very soul. As if he could unearth all of her darkest thoughts and secrets and turn them to ash.
“Why?”
Because I am nothing. Worthless. And you should be running—away from this, away from me. 
She wanted to push him away, protect him from herself. Instead her fingers flexed in the soft silvery hair at his nape. The tightness in her chest splintered out as unwanted emotions and thoughts bubbled to the surface, a familiar numbing ache seeping into the hollow parts.
A slow, sad shake of her head. “I have nothing to give.”
Something crumpled behind those pretty green eyes. Then Rowan pulled her face closer, grazing his lips over hers. “I don’t want anything.” The featherlight touch of his lips as he spoke sent a chill up her spine. “Just you, Aelin.”
His words… the way her name sounded on his tongue—it fractured something deep within. And she was helpless to the sob that racked up through her body. No one has ever wanted her before, not for just her.
“Shhh,” Rowan soothed. “I’ve got you.” He gently wiped the salty streaks from her flushed cheeks. Ran soothing fingers through her long golden waves. Held her so close to stave off any fears that he’d let her go. “I’ve got you,” he repeated.
Aelin nuzzled into the crook of his neck, too far past the ability to feel embarrassed over her tears seeping into his shirt collar and skin. Rowan didn’t seem to care anyways. So she sunk into him—reveled in the strength and warmth of his arms wrapped tightly around her. Tentatively allowed herself to be comforted by his unyielding presence. 
It wasn’t until her breathing had steadied and the dampness on her cheeks nearly dried that she pulled back to find eyes open and searching, a gentle caress across her face. 
She stared back, in disbelief of this man and his kindness and his heart. Always so stoic and broody to the outside world… but for whatever reason she’d always had a special pass to the softer, gentler parts of him. Gods knew she’d done nothing to earn that trust of vulnerability.
But she was… thankful, anyways. And she wanted him to know. She could at least give him this. 
Aelin swallowed then placed a gentle hand along his jaw. “Rowan…” she rasped, voice not sounding like her own, hoarse with spent emotion. 
The rest of her gratitudes died on her tongue. She wasn’t any good at these kinds of things. Aelin resolved to showing him then.
His eyes didn’t leave hers as she shifted on his lap, tilting his head back so she could lean over him. Their breaths mingled in the space between them, then Aelin pressed her lips to his. Rowan didn’t hesitate in returning the kiss, slow and deep.
Her mother used to always say Aelin was born with wildfire in her heart. Burning bright and wild, yielding to nothing and no one. Always one to unapologetically blaze her own trail. And oh, how far Aelin has fallen from that little girl once with wildfire. Her heart has been cold and shrouded in darkness for so long, she didn’t remember what it felt like to burn.
Until now. As Rowan breathed flame back into her and it crackled through her blood with every touch and brush of lips. This single kiss fractured her very foundation and reforged her anew. 
A prolonged moan fell from her lips as Rowan’s hands ran down her body then back up her bare thighs, smoothing around to knead and cup her ass. Using the leverage, he ground her thinly cladded core against his straining arousal and devoured the little gasps and whimpers coaxed from her. 
Aelin broke away and pressed open mouthed kisses along his strong jawline as deft fingers worked the front buttons of his dress shirt, only pausing for him to yank hers overhead. The second it was off, her mouth and hands were back on him—touching, licking, tasting. 
Her bra was next to go and Rowan soaked in the sight with pupils blown wide. He almost looked crazed with want, and hell—maybe he was. She surely was. 
The corner of her mouth tugged into a small smirk before tangling her fingers into his hair and guiding him back to her in a messy kiss. Rowan licked into her mouth and greedily swallowed her moan when his fingers slipped beneath the hem of her underwear. And he was so good.
All coherent thoughts fell away. Leaving her with just the feel of him beneath her—of them, moving together.
“Rowan,” she panted, hips rolling against his very skilled fingers. 
Small hands flitted over broad shoulders, across the expanse of firm chest, over thick biceps, into silvery tendrils—unable to decide where to land. Entirely overwhelmed with an incessant need for him—for more. 
Finally her hands landed on his belt buckle, then the button and zipper of his slacks. Shimmying them and his boxers down just enough to free his cock. Her mouth went dry at the sight of him, jutting proud and  head glistening with his desire. The urge to wrap her mouth around him pulsed through her. But first—
Aelin rose on her knees to align herself above him. Rowan’s eyes widened slightly and gripped her hips to keep her from sinking down.
“Aelin… like this?”
His eyes darted over their still half-clothed bodies then back up to her face as if he were asking, Here? She was sure he had a perfectly fine bed somewhere but Aelin swore she was going to die from scorching need if she didn’t have him in the next five seconds.
She didn’t need romantic gestures and soft mattresses. Just to be filled with him, consumed by him.
Aelin nodded emphatically. “Please.” Desperation to feel something—to connect—threatened to swallow her whole.
A look passed through the green depths of his eyes and she knew he understood. Rowan pressed a kiss to her sternum. “Okay, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Tell me how you need it.”
“Hard.”
Mischief glinted in his eyes as he smirked up at her and her stomach flipped. “As you wish.”
Rowan’s mouth crashed against hers in a bruising kiss—demanding, claiming. His thumb hooked and pulled aside the dainty lace that still covered her core, and guided her down onto his cock. 
A throaty whimper fell from her. The way he stretched her open fell just on the side of painful, stealing the breath from her lungs.
“Fuuuck, Aelin,” he groaned. “So fucking tight.”
Before she could fully adjust to his size, Rowan snapped his hips and set into a punishing pace. And she was glad for it—eager to be ruined by him.
Aelin’s head fell back with a cry.
All she could do was hold on, nails digging into beautiful bronze tattooed skin, and lose herself to the burn building within her. Nothing else mattered outside this moment, outside of them and the way he made the flames flicker and dance in her soul.
Rowan wound long gold tresses around a hand and tugged to draw her head back, keeping the hold on her hair taught. Aelin moaned and arched just as he nipped at the exposed skin before licking up the length of her throat.
“Rowan, please,” she begged. Desperate for a release that dangled just out of reach.
Rowan latched on to her pulse point and pressed a thumb to her clit, the added sensations just what she needed to be sent hurtling over the edge with his name singed on her lips.
His breaths turned jagged while he shook with restraint. “Again,” he ground out. Molten pleasure sparked through her core in response to the command. 
Aelin rolled her hips into his, milking the drag of his swollen cock along her oversensitive inner walls. All the while his ministrations didn’t falter, thumb still pressing tight circles against her clit. The the pleasure sharp and bordering too much.
Her nails dug deeper into his heated skin, she wouldn’t be surprised if she drew blood and— 
O-oH, gods!
Rowan grunted as her body began contracting around him again, and a prolonged moan fell from her lips as she drowned once more in a blanketed wave of pleasure. He thrusted one final time before spilling deep into her and joining her in bliss.
Golden waves tumbled down her back as Rowan finally released his hold. He sagged against the sofa cushions, bringing Aelin with him, both of them panting and boneless.
Minutes ticked past, maybe hours. It didn’t really matter as she’d lost all concept of time. Only aware of the warm drag of his fingers up and down her back; of  the soft brush of his lips against her temple. 
Rowan shifted beneath her, slipping out, then effortlessly hauled them both up from the sofa. Aelin’s legs wrapped around him as he carried her deeper into the apartment. 
A mattress gave way at her back as Rowan gently lowered her to the bed. He looked her over for a moment with shining eyes and a soft smile before wordlessly removing her remaining garments, leaving her fully bare before him. 
With eyes glued to her lithe body sprawled out across his bed, Rowan groaned in appreciation while discarding the rest of his own clothes. 
Aelin sucked in a breath. 
He was glorious standing there in the nude—all corded muscle, bronze skin, and tattoos. 
Heat reignited in her core. 
Rowan eased onto the bed and crawled slowly up her body, kissing and nipping along the way. Aelin stretched beneath him and arched into his touch. His hand ran up along her ribcage, thumb brushing the  underside of her breast.
“Gods, Aelin, you’re beautiful.” His reverence washed over her with gentle warmth.
She smiled lazily. “I know.”
Rowan snorted, a broad grin stretching across his handsome face. “There you are,” he murmured. 
Yes, there she was. With the whisper of a flame finally flickering back to life in her heart. 
The smile remained until Rowan leaned down to capture her awaiting lips once more. 
--
Masterlist
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leiawritesstories · 1 year
Text
illicit affairs
credit to my bestie @rowanaelinn who gave me the prompt and encouraged this whole story ily bb 🫶
Word count: 3.3k (oops)
CW: swearing, alcohol, infidelity (cheating), smut. it's NSFW y'all, minors please stay away for your own sanity, it's...dirty dirty. i'm gonna go bleach my eyes now.
enjoy! (i hope...)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Aelin didn’t know when the spark had gone out, only that it had. She woke up that July morning to an empty bed, an empty house, and her hopeful half-smile faltered and crumbled, all her illusions of the fairytale marriage she’d dreamed of since childhood splintering into dust and ashes.
She really should have been anticipating this day. It's not like anything about the situation was unexpected--it was so painfully obvious that Chaol wasn't interested in her anymore that they really should have just ended the marriage already. But both he and Aelin were stubborn-minded, unwilling to just let their marriage die when they could still look back on their honeymoon phase and see sparks of something that might be theirs again.
Chaol was Aelin's high school sweetheart; they'd met during their sophomore year, instantly hit it off, and had been inseparable ever since. They'd gone to university together, and he had proposed to her when they were only 19, just after freshman year. Not wanting to wait forever, they'd decided to get married when they were both 21--looking back, Aelin knew that had been their first mistake. They were so young, so full of hopes and dreams.
Real adult life wasn't yet reality to them.
And here they were now, at 24, married for three years and drifting apart for a year and a half. She'd noticed the shift in their marriage when Chaol got his first promotion at his job and started spending longer hours in the office, coming home later and later. Back then, he still came home to her, not to his work. He'd push open their front door, dump his laptop bag on the floor, and come to her. She'd smile and welcome him, kiss him, ask him how his day was and listen to his stories, always eager to help him destress however she could.
Not quite a month later, he stopped sharing every story from his work day. She didn't mind--didn't really notice. She was busy with her own graduate studies, which were getting more intense, and as much as she loved her husband and wanted to be there for him however she could, he had to reciprocate the feeling for anything to work. He started working even longer hours, claiming the new projects his bosses kept shoving onto his desk were eating his time.
She believed everything he said. Stupid, foolish, stupid Aelin.
Months passed, then a year. By then, Aelin was going to bed alone, leaving Chaol's dinner in the fridge or on the stove, not bothering to wait up for him when she didn't even know when he'd be home. Besides, with the thesis she was writing, she didn't have the time or the energy to devote to spectacular meals. She hardly even woke up when he finally slipped into bed beside her--when he still slept beside her.
It was only a month or two ago when the fragile peace they still maintained cracked. When Chaol came home early--for once!--and found her buried in her work, with books and documents spread across the table, her long-since-empty coffee cup abandoned beside her, typing furiously away on her thesis. When he called a hello that she didn't return, because she didn't hear him. He snapped at her that evening, said that he felt like he couldn't talk to her anymore.
He slept in the spare bedroom that night. And Aelin didn't even feel any difference--she was asleep as soon as she dragged herself into bed, worn out from the day, her work, and the argument.
~
The morning it all shattered, she woke up to a silent, empty bedroom. She'd grown used to the emptiness, the quietude of having her own room, but this was different. Silent. Too silent.
Yawning, she rolled herself out of bed, washed her face, and tucked her feet into her favorite beat-up old slippers before heading downstairs. "Chaol?"
No response.
Her forehead crinkled. "Chaol? You home?" she called, heading into the kitchen. Still nothing.
Not until she'd gone through the motions of making coffee did she realize that certain things were missing--his favorite coffee cup, namely. That was when it hit her. He was gone. Probably for good.
Aelin expected to feel shocked, numb, angry, empty--anything but what she felt. Instead, she just shrugged and poured her coffee. It was always going to happen, a little voice in the back of her mind whispered. You've known so for months.
Yeah, she had.
~
That night, Aelin came home from a rather tiring session with her advisor, left her backpack on the floor, and reached for her phone, tapping Lysandra's contact.
<<bitch, get ready, we're going out
>>when?
<<now. soon. as soon as we're ready.
>>meet you at stag's? with shots ofc
<<you're the best, babes
Aelin showered quickly, dried off, and put on her little gold dress, the metallic material still molding to her body as perfectly as it had the first time she'd tried it on. She'd been shopping with Lys and Elide, who'd all but ordered her to get the dress, thinking it might lead to a night of fun with her husband.
Chaol hadn't even seen the dress. And, Aelin realized, giving herself a once-over in the mirror, he didn't deserve to.
She did her makeup heavier than usual, lining her eyes in bold, sharp flicks of liquid black and dusting her eyelids with gold. She painted her lips crimson, holding them apart for a few minutes to let the lipstick dry so it would be smudge-proof. When she looked in the mirror for one last check, she was caught off-guard. She looked...different.
She looked alive.
She looked fucking hot, and she was ready to go meet her best friend at their favorite club and forget her failed marriage.
The last thing Aelin did before leaving the house was tug her wedding ring off her finger and drop it into the shallow jewelry dish atop her dresser. She'd stopped wearing it in public months ago--if Chaol was going to act like they weren't married, then why should she keep up the farce? She kept it on at home, though, still clinging to the last threads of their union.
No longer.
~
Lysandra whistled when she saw Aelin. "Hot damn, girl!"
"Stop," Aelin laughed, stiletto heels clicking as she headed across to Lysandra's seat. Four shot glasses were ready and waiting, two of them filled with clear liquid and the other two with something colorful and sweet-smelling.
Lys wiggled her perfectly threaded eyebrows. "Someone's gonna catch a man tonight, hmm?"
Aelin winked. "That's the idea." She picked up one of the shots. "Cheers, bitch!" Tapping her glass against Lys's, she downed the shot. Then the next. With the alcohol warming her blood, she glanced over to the dance floor, her foot tapping along to the music.
Lys grinned like the wickedly clever woman she was. "C'mon, bitch, we're dancing!"
Aelin swept her gaze across the crowded floor, searching. "Lys, babes, I don't see anyone worth--" Her sentence cut off as her best friend all but dragged her out among the dancers.
"Just enjoy yourself!" the brunette yelled, tipping her head back and grinning.
Quickly, Aelin list herself in the thumping bass, the pounding melody, the near-indecent rhythm of the dancing. She'd only been dancing for a few minutes when she felt someone's hands slip around her waist and tug her back against a chiseled, decidedly male body. And gods fucking burn her, his body felt divine against hers, moving in perfect sync with her and the music, coaxing her hips to slide against his. She wound one arm up behind his neck, sliding her manicured nails into his cropped, silky hair, and leaned in closer, catching the scent of pine forests and icy mountain breezes.
"What's your name, gorgeous?" he purred into her ear, his breath fanning against her skin.
Smoothly, she spun to face him, which conveniently aligned her breasts with his chest. Fuck, he was gorgeous--at least six foot four, chiseled muscles, a tattoo snaking up the length of his left arm and flicking onto his cheekbone. Eyes the color of the Oakwald Forest captured hers, smoky promise burning in their depths.
"Don't make me ask again, princess," he warned, the hint of command in his tone sending fire racing down her spine.
She hooded her eyes. "Aelin."
"Aelin," he repeated, rolling her name like fine wine on his tongue.
She wouldn't mind that tone rolling in other places, hell no she would not.
"What's your name," she asked in return, letting the pause drag on before she added, "sir?"
He sucked in a sharp breath, and she could have sworn his hands slipped closer to the hem of that little golden dress. "Since you asked so nicely, I'm Rowan." His lips brushed the side of her neck, a bare hint of a touch. "But you can call me sir," he murmured, splaying one broad hand against the bare skin of her back, exposed by the cut of her dress.
Burning hell.
"Rowan," she whispered, her voice dropping to a throaty purr, turning the two syllables into something borderline explicit.
His hands flexed against her skin, pulling her even closer, fingertips brushing her thigh--just under the hem of her dress. "You're going to keep quiet for me, princess." Not a request, an order. An order that sent sparks dancing through her blood. That damn hand inched farther up her skirt. "Answer me."
"Yes, sir," she breathed, eyes fluttering closed in anticipation.
His smug, dark little chuckle rumbled deep in his chest. "Remember, princess, we're on a public dancefloor. Nobody gets to know that you're--fuck--soaking wet for me." He'd found her lacy little scrap of underwear, which was indeed soaked with arousal.
"Yes sir." Her vocabulary was apparently reduced to those words.
Rowan kissed her neck, a teasingly light peck of his lips. "Good girl." The endearment sent a new rush of arousal pooling between her thighs--which, of course, he felt. His smug smirk only grew. "Turn around, princess, keep grinding on me. I know how wet it made you." Keeping that hand under her skirt, he spun her around, splaying his free one across her stomach, pinning her in place.
She sucked back a gasp at the power of the maneuver, forcing her legs to stay strong, not to waver and collapse like they wanted to. "Sir," she breathed, body a little tense with the waiting.
He kissed the side of her neck. "Relax, princess. Dance for me." He guided her into motion, swaying with the pulsing thump of the music blaring all around them. She closed her eyes, letting the rhythm take over, leading her body. "Good girl," Rowan whispered into her ear.
As a reward, his finger dragged up the seam of her panties, landing squarely on her needy clit. Her mouth dropped open, head falling back against his shoulder, hips rocking against the pressure of his hand.
Though she couldn't see his face, she knew full well that smug male smirk of his was firmly in place. "Look at you all dripping wet for a stranger, and I've barely even touched you." Shoving her panties aside, he teased her sex for a few seconds before sliding one thick finger into her, pulling a faint moan from her throat. He clicked his tongue. "Uh-uh, princess. Quiet."
She pressed her lips together, forcing the sounds she wanted to make to be silent. "Please," she breathed, her dancing smoothly slipping into time with the pumping of his fingers.
He chuckled darkly. "Such pretty manners." Another finger slid in beside the first, those two fingers stretching her more, filling her deeper than Chaol ever had. She banished the stray thought--no need to think about him when this moment was already so good. Rowan's hand sped up, working her higher, keeping her moving so nobody around them would be able to tell he had his fingers buried into her in the middle of the very public dancefloor.
Aelin felt herself getting closer, blood singing with the pleasure shooting through her veins. Subconsciously, she gripped Rowan's forearm, sweat beading on her forehead from the effort of keeping quiet. "Please, sir," she begged, practically thrusting herself onto his hand. "So close, please--oh!" A moan tore out of her as he crooked his fingers, brushing that sensitive ridge inside of her.
In a heartbeat, his fingers were gone, and she'd spun around to face him again, meeting the darkness in his gaze. He shook his head, laughing smokily at the shock and arousal mingled on her face. "You disobeyed, princess."
"I--"
"I told you to keep quiet." He caressed the curve of her ass, the gold material of her dress molding to her like a second skin. "What happens when you disobey, princess?"
Aelin's breath shuddered out in a long gasp, all coherent speech failing her.
Rowan's lips quirked up. "Open your mouth." She did. He placed his fingers at her lips. "Taste yourself, princess." Not really waiting for her to move, he slid his fingers into her mouth. She wrapped her crimson-stained lips around his fingers, tongue flicking around the digits in a way that could only be described as explicit.
He chuckled, knowing she'd behave. "That's right, princess, be a good girl and clean me up." When he'd all but choked her with his fingers for long enough, he withdrew, sinful promise lighting his eyes. "Can you stay quiet for me now?" She nodded. "Words, princess."
"Yes, sir," she whispered, clenching her thighs together.
He tracked the movement. "Mmm, perhaps we should take this somewhere else." A soft, teasing kiss against her pulse point. "I don't think the whole club should see your pretty little cunt, hmm?"
Aelin could barely think through the heady rush of arousal that washed over her senses at Rowan's filthy words. In a single blurred moment, they were in the club's bathroom, the door locked behind them, and he'd lifted her onto the countertop. She loosed a little squeak at the unexpected cold of the marble, the sound rapidly turning into a groan as he shoved her skirt up around her waist, exposing the completely soaked scrap of black lace she called panties.
"I don't think we need these anymore," he hummed, yanking the lace off of her. And burying his face in her sex.
Aelin moaned deeply, gripping the edge of the countertop to keep herself upright. "Fuck!"
Rowan pulled away, making a tsking sound. "What did I tell you, princess?"
"I--quiet, sir," she panted, just about ready to beg for his touch.
"Seems you need a little help with that." Rising, he stuffed her panties into her mouth, the essence of her arousal exploding on her tongue. "Now hold. Fucking. Still."
She didn't even have time to nod before his tongue was back in her sex, licking a long, rough line up her folds. She arched into his touch, gasping at the way he grasped her hips, both to support her and to angle her better for the devouring. His tongue--gods, she'd never felt the way he made her feel. He alternated long, rough strokes with teasing little flicks, plunging his tongue into her sex and then flicking it around her clit, keeping her just teetering on the edge of orgasm.
Desperate, she gripped the countertop harder, using all of her might not to scream as Rowan raised his eyes to hers, unchecked hunger in their depths, and sucked her clit into his mouth. The scrape of his teeth was enough to set her off--but she held on, knowing that he'd punish her if she came without his command.
"Good fucking girl," he groaned into her sex. "Come for me, princess."
She didn't need encouragement--the way he nibbled at her throbbing clit was more than enough to send her into orgasm, her body shuddering with the force of her climax. He latched his mouth onto her and lapped up everything she gave him, letting out a moan himself at the taste of her, thick and sweet on his tongue.
"So fucking gorgeous when you come," he groaned, lifting himself up to pull her panties out and claim her lips, his kiss just as dominating as the rest of him. He swept his tongue through her mouth, angling her head to meet his.
Aelin groaned into his kiss, her body already throbbing with need for him again. "Please," she panted, grasping his shoulders to keep herself stable. "Please, sir."
"Please what?" he asked, knowing full well what she wanted but needing to hear her beg.
Her chest heaved. "Please fuck me, sir, I need you."
"Good girl." He kissed her again, all tongue and dominance. "Spread your legs for me, princess."
She did.
Slotting his hips between her legs, Rowan shoved his pants down just enough for his cock to spring free, smirking at the way Aelin's bright eyes widened at the sight of him. "Think you can stay quiet now, princess?"
"I might need a little instruction, sir," she purred, lowering her lashes and peeking up at him. Fuck, she was impossible.
"If you say so," he smirked, pumping himself a few times. "Hold still, princess." She nodded, and he moved forward, pushing into her. Fucking hell, she was perfect. Tight and warm around him, her walls squeezing his cock. "Loosen up, princess," he whispered, stroking her clit to help her ease up. Her jaw fell open as he shoved the rest of the way in, grunting.
"Sir," she groaned, gripping his shoulders, her lovely face screwing up with pleasure.
"Quiet, princess," he warned, practically shaking with the effort of not slamming into her until she couldn't even think. She panted, hips rocking just enough to let him know how much she needed him. "Want me to move?"
"Please," she whispered.
"Good girl." He pulled back and slammed back in, setting a near-frantic, heavy pace. She moaned, unable to keep the sound back, and he clicked his tongue, sliding one hand up her body. "Tap my thigh twice if it's too much, okay?" She nodded. He kissed her hard, swallowing her groan, and wrapped his hand around her throat, keeping his grip light.
Aelin felt fire racing through her nerves at the pressure of Rowan's hand around her throat. She gripped his shoulders tighter and matched the frenetic pace of his thrusts, leaning into his grip enough that he tightened his hold, hand flexing against her throat, muttering filthy promises and praises into her ear. So quickly, she felt herself hurtling toward climax, and if the way his hips stuttered was any indication, he was close as well.
"Come for me, princess," he commanded, squeezing her throat in time with the way his hips pounded into hers, his cock deeper in her than anything she'd ever felt.
She exploded, mouth open in a silent scream as she came around his dick. He groaned her name into her neck, his control snapping as he spilled into her.
Slowly, they both came down, Rowan removing his hand from Aelin's neck and stroking her back as he pulled out. He reached for some paper towels, wet them, and carefully cleaned her up--an oddly gentle contrast to the domineering man who'd fingered her in the middle of the club dancefloor and then fucked her into oblivion in the bathroom.
Not until her dress was back in place and she was strolling onto the dancefloor--albeit a little shakily--did the realization of what she'd just done hit Aelin. Swiftly, she dropped Rowan's hand and ran, weaving through the throngs of dancing bodies until she was out of the club, out in the bracing cool of the night air.
That night, Aelin Galathynius cheated on her husband with a man she’d just met.
And gods burn her, it was the most alive she’d ever felt.
What the fuck had she just done?
~~~
TAGS:
@live-the-fangirl-life
@superspiritfestival
@thegreyj
@wordsafterhours
@elentiyawhitethorn
@morganofthewildfire
@backtobl4ck
@rowanaelinn
@house-of-galathynius
@tomtenadia
@julemmaes
@swankii-art-teacher
@charlizeed
@booknerdproblems
@chronicchthonic14
@earthtolinds
@goddess-aelin
@sweet-but-stormy
@clea-nightingale
@autumnbabylon
@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell
@llyncooljones
@silentquartz
@mis-lil-red
158 notes · View notes
autumnshighlady · 2 years
Text
had a really bad work day so working on the dbsf!Gavriel smut request to feel better hehe... I’m thinking reader is Elorcan’s daughter 👀 
then gonna do some bsfd!Gavriel.... then Fenrys x reader headcanons... then office hours part 2...then poly Rowaelin angst and fluff hehehe what do we think? any other requests?
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rowanaelinn · 1 year
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Come and Play
This is… a little something 👀
Warnings: NSFW, and I know I’m never seeing god | Word Count: 1,900
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If there was one thing Aelin Galathynius was certain about, was that she despised her boss. He was the definition of an asshole, always broody and never cracking up a smile or compliment. Not only that, but he was also annoyingly smart, in a way that made him able to keep up with her snark which made him ten times more annoying.
He always demanded more of her: more dedications, more hours, more availability.
He wasn’t a bad guy per see. He’d given her all her days off and half of his when her uncle had died last yar. She’d tried to thank him then, but he just waved it off, telling her to come back rested to work.
“What was the verdict of the Archeron case?” He asked her as she sipped from her steaming cup of coffee which she’d just poured. It was what she did on her break, but Rowan Whitethorn didn’t seem to understand what a break was.
Ten years her senior, he had founded Cadre Law Firm with his best friend, Lorcan Salvaterre, straight out of law school. Now years later, it was one of the most prestigious firms of the country.
They’d hired her five years ago, and she’d just become Senior Associate less than a year ago. A promotion that her boss had announced to her with a blank face, before giving her three more cases to work on.
She believed he was allergic to happiness.
“It’s all over the news,” she answered, shrugging and sipping from her cup again.
“And I’m asking you, her lawyer who was at the trial. Excuse me for thinking you’d be more reliable than those gossip magazines.”
She rolled her eyes, such dramatics. Aelin’s client, Feyre Archeron, was one of the most famous actresses in the world right now, and the moment she stepped foot in their firm, Aelin had fought teeth and nails to get the case.
It hadn’t been an easy fight; she was only a Senior Associate and compared to the five Partners and the two Shareholders, and yet Aelin had won it.
“The bastard is going to rot in jail for ten years with no reduction possible, then is forbidden to get less than fifty yards away from Miss Archeron.”
He nodded, taking in the verdict. She’d just come back from court, and even if there had been a lot of evidence against Tamlin Spring’s abusive ass, it had been a hard fight to make the justice system actually work in favor of the victim.
Her boss’s arms were crossed, and she turned her gaze away when she realized she was staring at the way his suit fitted his body, at the muscles it showed off. Gods, wasn’t he uncomfortable in such tight clothes? Not that she was better with her pencil skirts, but how could she not wear those when they made her ass look so fabulous? Maybe he wore those suits for the same reason, because inside he was as vain as she was. At least she didn’t hide it, she had her reasons to love herself so much.
Through, as she threw another look toward the silver-haired man while he watched his watch, she supposed that if he had his reasons, too. This was the more irritating part of this whole thing: he was attractive.
And not attractive in the way that would have her take a mental note and then forget about it if she were to cross his path on the street.
No, he was enticing enough to follow her to her deepest dreams. She hated this; and pushing her hate onto something so vague seemed useless, so she decided to hate him instead. It was easier, and quite fun if she was being honest.
“Decent work,” he said, and on his way to leave he added, “I want all the paperwork related to that case on my desk before midnight.”
He was gone before she could protest or even complain, but it didn’t stop her from spitting an insult directed at him. She didn’t have to fill all the paperwork now; she knew for a fact that other associates weren’t asked for such heavy work under such short delayed. No, the asshole just hated her probably as much as she hated him.
Great, her break was ruined now. He’d make her life hell if she didn’t do this, he’d drown her under work. She’d be at the office until late, which was a bummer.
She rolled her shoulders, feeling how tense she was. She needed to relax a little, and she had just the right idea in mind to relieve some tension.
Biting on a croissant and standing, she typed a text on her phone to Dorian. He was her boyfriend, in a way. He technically was doing all the things a boyfriend did, he slept over at her place most of the times, took her out for dinner and other dates. Hell, she’d even met his dad.
And he was alright, and good at sex which was why she was texting him on her way to her office. But it wasn’t passionate. And she was pretty sure he wasn’t in love with her, and neither was she. It seemed like the perfect situationship she could ask for. She was too busy for an actual boyfriend anyway.
She grinned when he texted her back he’d wait for her at his place at ten in the evening. That was finally something to look for. She’d kicked ass these past few days in court, and she really deserved a good reward for it.
--
“Are you sure you don’t want to tell me what’s got you so tense?”
“No, shut up and get naked,” she whispered, pushing his jacket off his shoulders. It was late, and she needed the kind of high only a good orgasm would give her. He chuckled, unbuttoning her shirt. Gods, she wished he’d just rip it.
She believed it was the difference between good sex and amazing sex. The roughness, the words whispered or shouted. Not that she complained about the sex Dorian gave her, an orgasm was an orgasm. A guy knowing how to make a woman come was rare enough, she wouldn’t waste time being picky.
“How do you want me?” She breathed once his shirt was off, her hands undoing his pants buttons. He broke the kiss, panting and smiling.
“On top.”
She smirked, pushing him onto the bed after he got rid of his pants and underpants. She threw a condom at him as she got rid of the few articles of clothing she still had on. He sat on the bed, hands on her lips and he kissed her navel, his hand making its way between her legs.
Her hands shot for his shoulder, holding herself steady as he drew moans out of her. She closed her eyes, throwing her head back. She imagined that the kisses laid on her stomach were bites, that the fingers inside of her would be going faster, deeper and harder.
She needed more, needed more than just fingers. She pushed on his shoulders, having him lay on the bed. His fingers left her, and she opened the condom and rolled it over his cock. She hoovered over him, and sunk down unto him, not in the mood for teasing.
Her nails broke the skin of his chest as she moaned at the stretch. She started moving quickly, desperating searching that high she thought about the whole day. Dorian started thrusting up, their hips meeting.
His hands grabbed, caressed and touched every place of her body, and yet as she broke it didn’t feel enough. Her orgasm didn’t fulfill her the way she wanted it to, and even as she climaxed, she wanted more. Because then, maybe she’d feel satisfied.
She sat on his hips, sinking deeper and started rolling her hips, tearing moans out of both their lips.
“Fuck!” she cried as her phone started ringing, just as Dorian grabbed her hips and helped her fuck herself on him. One look at her phone had her groaning.
“Don’t pick up,” the man under her panted.
But that wasn’t an option, not when that asshole boss of her called her. She whispered in his ear, “Keep going.” And then grabbed the phone, answering the goddamn call.
“What do you want?” She asked, her voice was enough to make him understand that he was bothering her.
Dorian, under her, hesitated for a few seconds but then grinned, deciding to go along with it. She’d just tell Whitethorn to fuck off, so she could get fucked in peace.
“Half of those instruments are badly written Galathynius, is it the kind of professionalism you put into your work? If so, we might have to reconsider your place in this firm.”
The bastard. He’d called her one minute past midnight just so he could insult her.
She couldn’t explain the rush than ran down her veins; couldn’t explain why she didn’t just hang up.
“If you-“ She bit her lip, holding in a moan as Dorian hit deep inside of her. “If you wanted a show, you should have come to the courthouse.”
“As if I had time to watch you play.”
She chuckled, out of breath. She closed her eyes, praying he wouldn’t hear the noises of body coming together. “T-too bad for you. I’m very good at playing.”
There was a long silence before he asked, “Where are you?”
She bit on her free hand, brow furrowed. She took a deep breath, “Gym, why? Want to come insult me there?”
“Insult?” He nearly sneered. “I just don’t stand for half-assed jobs when it put the reputation of what I’ve spent my life working on in peril.”
She hated him. Hated him so, so much. So much that his words had her clench around another man’s cock. “I won.”
“And yet you still show up the firm barely on time, you install non-professional relationships with your clients without mentioning how you walk through those goddamn walls as if you didn’t still have everything to learn. This is your problem, Galathynius, you refuse to learn, and it makes you so infuriat—”
“Oh, Gods, Rowan!” She screamed as Dorian hit deeper inside of her, and she fell over the edge a second time.
This orgasm lasted for what felt like hours, waves of pleasing hitting her over and over again, making it impossible to breath correctly. She might have been screaming the whole time, too. She wasn’t aware of anything other than the way her muscles relaxed, the feeling of numbness spreading through her veins.
It might have been seconds, minutes or hours when she regained consciousness. Only then, she realized that Dorian wasn’t moving anymore. She looked up, only to find him looking horrified, eyes on her phone which had fallen on the side of his head.
She rushed to grab it, only to realize she hadn’t hung up.
He’d heard her come.
And he’d heard her scream his name as she did.
She hit the red button, ending the phone call, and fell on the side of Dorian. She groaned, head in her hands.
She was so, so screwed.
••••••
@sheharahu // @morganofthewildfire // @thestoriesyoutell // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @swankii-art-teacher // @itsforeverinnocent-blog // @becarefuloflove // @imnotsogoodatthis // @rowaelinismyotp // @a-court-of-milkandhoney // @feysand-loml // @elentiyawhitethorn // @live-the-fangirl-life // @story-scribbler // @loves-books // @fangirlprincess09 // @theysayitscrazy // @danibutterr // @endlessdaydream // @thegreyj // @gracie-rosee // @acreativelydifferentlove // @cretaceous-therapod // @louphantomdragon // @mis-lil-red // @backtobl4ck // @whoever-you-choose-to-love // @lemonade-coolattas // @mad-madeline-ace // @the-introverted-bibliophile // @leiawritesstories // @emilyoftheshadows // @anniesbookshelf // @rainbowcheetah512 // @astra-ad-mare // @story-scribbler // @superspiritfestival // @wordsafterhours // @rowaelinrambling // @black-daisy-water // @fireheart-violet // @livsdriverslicense // @charlizeed // @ladykreads // @mariamuses // @autumnbabylon // @justreadertings // @highqueenofelfhame // @earthtolinds // @bowdawn
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golden-kingdom · 1 year
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Favorite Crime
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Summary: In 2007, the assassination of President Galathynius, his wife and his young daughter shocked the country of Erilea and the rest of the world. Fifteen years later, President Galathynius’ nephew, Aedion Ashryver, is running for the presidency against current president Maeve Valg. In Rifthold, Erilea’s capital and biggest city, crime is rampant and murders keep piling up. Mayor Dorian Havilliard is trying his best to make the city safe with the help of the FBI. The name on everyone’s lips? Celaena Sadorthien, assassin for the mysterious organization only known as The Guild. But nobody knows who she is or what she looks like. FBI agent Rowan Whitethorn is set on arresting her and putting her behind bars, no matter what it takes.
Rating: Explicit for language, violence and sexual content
Read it on AO3
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
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llyncooljones · 2 years
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throne of glass anniversary masterlist.
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throne of glass anniversary, 2022.
deets.
masterlist.
rowaelin masterlist.
complete.
day one — the assassin's blade.
aesthetic
day two — throne of glass.
aesthetic
day three — crown of midnight.
aesthetic
day four — heir of fire.
aesthetic
day five — queen of shadows.
aesthetic
day six — empire of storms.
aesthetic
drag me out to sea, set me free || ao3
a smutty outtake from just after their first time(s).
4.1k words.
day seven — tower of dawn.
aesthetic
day eight — kingdom of ash.
aesthetic
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