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missmonsters2 · 1 year

Text

—Just Last Lifetime | Two

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader/OFC

Summary: Wednesday is determined to recreate the special moments of your relationship to revive your memories—to revive your feelings. But it becomes apparent that the same memories cannot be created twice.

Warnings: Heavy Angst. Heartbroken!Wednesday. DestinedToBeAlone!Wednesday. Amnesia. Flashbacks. Violent emotional outbursts.

PART ONE

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Note: so this is it! The end...haha unless...👀 lol jk...unless ☝️

Count: 4.9k

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"We're going somewhere for our studies today."

You look curiously at Wednesday, clutching the straps of your backpack a little tighter at the sudden spring of information.

Wednesday pretends to not notice your anxiousness, turning to walk off and expecting you to follow. She pays attention to the footsteps behind her, satisfied that you trail along despite clearly being reluctant.

It's been easier to spend time with you lately, with Yoko being incredibly busy with her club activities, and Enid has been keeping herself busy on purpose to leave you with no choice but to spend time with Wednesday.

Wednesday doesn't think you particularly hate spending time with her. You're always cordial and friendly. You've thanked her multiple times for taking the time to help you catch up on your studies and assistance with your current assignments.

Just a few days ago, you gifted her 99% dark chocolate for all the help. Wednesday had been intrigued, thinking you recalled how she preferred the bitter taste. But the intrigue swiftly died when you informed her Enid let you know as you wanted to do something for her.

It didn't matter. It was the fact alone that you went out of your way to give Wednesday something she'd like that mattered.

"Where are we going?" You ask, your voice tinged with curiosity and wariness the further you walk past the school entrance, clearly leaving. "Are we actually studying?"

Wednesday's eyes peer to the corner of her eyes to look at you.

"You study too much."

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Then.

"You spend too much time investigating, Wednesday."

Wednesday didn't even look up at you as she continued to pack her backpack for the day.

"I thought you were interested in coming along to find answers?" Wednesday's voice was dispassionate. There was a part of her that was tinged with annoyance that you constantly invited yourself along to her trips if you were just going to get sick of tagging along now.

"I very much am, but we've clearly hit a wall and I'm not particularly looking forward to walking around in circles in the forest today," you pursed your lip but then smiled. "Why don't we take a little bit of a break today? If you really want to, we can continue investigating tonight instead."

"You're willing to sneak out?" Wednesday raised her brow at you. She thought you were ridiculous for trying to bargain with her. The investigation was important, and Wednesday had no desire to lose any time.

She would investigate, and you were free to come along or not.

"I'll break any rule for you, Wednesday."

You said it in such a natural way, and Wednesday found that she was unable to reply right away. She looked back down at the ground for a moment, blinking before she looked back up at you.

"Where are we going?"

Wednesday had several ideas of where you might take her. There was the music hall, the planetarium, or even the garden. But what she hadn't expected was that you'd take her to the carnival.

"You didn't get to enjoy it, right?" You asked as you stepped out of the taxi, paying the driver cash. Wednesday didn't answer, but you knew the answer. "I mean, probably hard to enjoy since you were chasing the Hyde and almost died after Rowan did."

That was another one of the reasons why Wednesday didn't mind that you came along with her investigations. You were the only person who believed her when she said Rowan was dead, despite also being of the people who saw him in the aftermath.

When Wednesday asked why you believed her, you simply said she didn't come across as someone who would lie about it. So, if he was dead, he was dead.

"I suppose," Wednesday looked at the carnival before her. It was moderately busy for a weekend, and she wasn't particularly interested in doing any of these mundane activities.

"Alright," you clapped your hands, bringing Wednesday's attention to you. "We're on a mission today. I come here every year the carnival opens up to win the biggest prize, but my tickets were short since the carnival got cut short last time with the entire…situation."

"What are you trying to win?" Wednesday asked.

You grin at her, pointing far down the carnival with a specific booth. "That mini motorcycle."

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"This is rigged," Wednesday seethed, glaring at the booth worker who was nervously sweating ever since she approached.

You laughed, grabbing Wednesday's attention and the relief of the worker. "I know, right? We're totally just losing money at this point."

It was a simple game. A gun with 9 rubber bullets and 10 balloons to pop, and you had to win 5 times in a row with no supernatural abilities to get enough tickets to win the motorcycle.

It was not impossible, Wednesday knew that, but the balloons were not close enough where she could get away with hitting two with one rubber bullet.

They've both spent $100 at this point and while Wednesday would get 9 of 10 balloons every time, you would hit one balloon before you missed every other shot, hitting the corner of the wooden target.

As often as you refilled, it was starting to wear a dent.

"You're terrible at this," Wednesday bluntly said, but you merely smiled and shrugged.

A bit of wind was picking up, making the balloons circle around in their spot. Wednesday spotted her opportunity and chance when two balloons circled close enough towards each other, barely grazing.

Wednesday timed it perfectly and shot her 9 bullets, using her last one to wait as they circled towards each other before shooting and getting them both.

"Oh," you grinned. "That was really impressive."

Wednesday didn't react to your praise, waiting for the worker to rotate the next round of balloons and repeating her actions while the wind continued.

So far, Wednesday has won 4 times in a row. She had to pause as the wind died down, but it was sure to come back in a few moments.

"What do you want if we both win?" You asked. "There's only one motorcycle, so you may have to settle for something else."

Wednesday snorted. "I'm not sure I should get my hopes up on getting anything." It was a dig at the fact you've been absolutely terrible with your shots.

"C'mon, Wednesday," you grinned. "Dream a little."

"I don't dream."

"Nightmare it up a little," you quickly rebuttal.

Wednesday sighed, looking at the prizes that hung and framed the booth. Outside of random useless knick knacks, there were just stuffed animals—which were also useless.

But Wednesday's eye caught on a large scorpion stuffed animal. She wasn't one for being sentimental, but this was as good as it would get.

"That," Wednesday pointed at the scorpion stuffed animal.

You looked at it, grinning as you knew the story behind it. "Sure thing."

The wind picked up again, and Wednesday took the opportunity to win the 5th time in a row. The booth worker, whom Wednesday also assumed was the owner, looked relieved and reluctant to hand over the mini-motorcycle.

"I don't want to stand here for hours," Wednesday deadpanned, having already spent 2 and a half hours winning this prize for you. You would be here for 2 and a half days at the rate you were going.

"We're just about finished," you told Wednesday, and she raises her brow, thinking you'd given up.

But you slap down another $20 bill, smirking. Wednesday looked to your side of the targets and noticed the small dent you've managed to create with the rubber bullets. She narrowed her eyes, wondering if that was your plan all along.

Wednesday gets her answer within minutes. Suddenly, you've turned into a master marksman, shooting every balloon precisely until you were down the last two side by side. You tilted your gun, aiming it at the target, where you created a dent in the side. When you shot the bullet, it shot inside the hole and bounced against the wood, flying out with just enough force to hit the two balloons from the side.

Wednesday furrowed her brows in disbelief.

It continued like that until you won 5 times in a row without pausing. The owner looked like he wanted to say something but merely rolled his eyes with a certain kind of fondness Wednesday was sure you earned over the years coming here.

"The tickets get you two of these," the owner said, handing you two large scorpion stuffed animals.

"Did you have fun?" you grinned at Wednesday.

"It was passable," Wednesday admits, unable to fully say that even mundane activities like carnival games were interesting if she was with you.

As you left the booth, you handed Wednesday the stuffed scorpions to hold while taking the mini motorcycle.

"Look," you said. "Now your scorpion has a little friend to keep them company, or a little girlfriend," you wriggled your brows at her while Wednesday sighed, not commenting back.

She looks at the motorcycle and then at you. "Do you even know how to operate this?"

You smiled at Wednesday. "Not at all."

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Now.

The biggest prize of the carnival is still the mini motorcycle, as they don't change the award until next year. It seems they've stocked up since the last time the two of you were here.

Wednesday knows you already have one, but it wouldn't hurt to have another one.

You seem spirited to be at the carnival playing games, as it's obviously familiar to you.

They walk up to the same booth with the same owner, who clearly recognizes them.

"Oh, not again," he sighs. "You're going to run me out of business. Any chance I can talk you out of winning again?"

You look confused, but when you see the motorcycle as the prize, a moment of recognition dawns on your face from the one in the corner of your room. "I've already won this," you slowly say as a confirmation but not as a memory.

"Close," Wednesday drawls. "I won it."

You look confused as to why Wednesday would win the big prize for you, but before you question it, Wednesday speaks again. "It's time to repay the favor and win me one too."

You smile weakly as if the pressure is on, but you pick up the gun, studying the targets. The dent you created on the target was gone as the owner replaced it. You play a couple of rounds to get a feel of the game, while Wednesday puts little effort into her own game. It's unlikely there'd be wind again this time around. Even if Wednesday now knew the other method, it was something Wednesday hoped you would get on your own.

As time goes on, you're starting to get the idea of how to win. It's rather satisfying to watch you get to the same conclusion.

Wednesday takes her time achieving the same method as you. You're focused on your own game, not checking how Wednesday's faring.

You both created a dent relatively around the same time before shooting in sync, winning 5 times in a row.

The owner sighs, shaking his head and muttering about changing the rules about damaging the targets to win. Still, he hands you the motorcycle before asking what else you want.

"Uh," you hesitate, looking at the various prizes before you. Your eyes spot two stuffed animals that make you grin. "The bat and the wolf, please."

With the prizes in tow, the two of you leave the booth.

"What are you going to do with the mini motorcycle?" You ask.

"Teach you how to ride," Wednesday bluntly tells you.

You look surprised. "Oh," you chuckled weakly. "Right, I guess I probably told you I wouldn't know how to ride one."

Wednesday doesn't know what to say about your comment, so she veers off topic. "What are you going to do with the stuffed animals?" Wednesday internally sighs at the ridiculousness of the question. There are very limited things you can do with stuffed animals.

"I'm going to give them to Yoko and Enid," you smile.

"Right," Wednesday mutters, feeling something bitter rise in her throat but unable to identify it. Despite coming here and doing it correspondingly, none of this feels the same. "Did you enjoy yourself?"

You shrug your shoulders before nodding. "It's not bad to take a break from studying."

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The second time Wednesday takes you somewhere, you give her a confused smile.

"I'm pretty behind on my classes still," you gently point out, hinting that you're not up for another day of playing hooky, and Wednesday concedes with a nod.

"I'm aware. We aren't taking a break today," Wednesday clarifies, "we're merely studying in a different scenery."

The walk is silent as you follow Wednesday's lead. She takes you further down the river to an area you haven't explored before until you eventually reach a tall wisteria tree, probably the only one in Vermont, preserved with magic.

"Wow," you breathe in awe, "I didn't know we had one so near campus."

The gothic girl is lost in her thoughts as she settles near the base of the tree, grabbing the books from her backpack on autopilot.

You used to trail beside her, and now you always walk one step behind.

It's something Wednesday noticed as she took you around various parts of the school during your study sessions in an attempt to recreate the memories. She knows you're starting to find her odd, but Wednesday can't afford to tell you what she's really trying to do.

Wednesday's goal wasn't necessarily to make you remember everything by taking you to these places that hold special memories. If you never remember, that's okay. What Wednesday wants is to recreate the memories in hopes they'll lead the two of you down the same path it did the first time.

But instead of growing closer like you did the first time, it feels like you're pulling further away.

Even so, Wednesday can't stop trying.

"Um," you mumble as you search through your notebooks. "I was hoping we could pick up where we left off on ancient languages?"

Wednesday nods, and the two of you delve into the usual strict business of studying.

Everything is fine, and Wednesday is grading one of your practice sheets while you work on another. It's fine until she notices your trembling fingers. It's subtle as you were obviously trying to hide it, tightening your hands into fists and keeping them at your sides as you attentively look at the worksheet.

"I can't seem to understand the syntax—" you start to say but abruptly stop when Wednesday suddenly stands up, reaches up, and rips off a wisteria flower stock from the tree. She sits back down, reaching over and grabbing your wrist. The gentle squeezing of her hold prompts you to open your hand up, and Wednesday places wisteria stock into your hand.

The shaking stops, and Wednesday begins explaining the syntax to you without skipping a beat while you stare at her, stunned.

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Then.

"Let's go to the wisteria tree," you were holding Wednesday's hand as you dragged her along. "Today is such a beautiful day, and your skin is way too fair—I mean pale—I mean pallor—to be out in the sun."

Wednesday merely gave you an unimpressed look.

"Once again, you're disrupting my investigations. At this rate, it will take me a lifetime to solve the murders going on here," Wednesday's tone was disgruntled. "It would tarnish not only my reputation but also my ego, and I will make sure you die a miserable death for doing so."

"Ignoring the fact that everyone on campus would totally be dead," you turned around and grinned, "We'd have spent a lifetime together—before you killed me, of course."

You didn't add anything else to your words, but Wednesday could catch the insinuations between the lines.

A lifetime together.

A lifetime with you.

The idea didn't displease Wednesday at all; if anything, the fact that it didn't was more disgruntling.

A large wisteria tree appeared, and the two of you easily settled in. Wednesday was grateful that she had an inkling she should bring a book today in her bag.

"I love this place," you sighed with happiness. "I can't believe you found this place, and I've never noticed it in the years I've been going here."

"It's colorful," Wednesday drawled in response. The flowers that grew were vibrant violet and lavender, something she thought was entirely putrid, but she knew you would love it.

Wednesday was about to say something else when she noticed your fingers were shaking.

"What's wrong with your hands?" Wednesday asked with narrowed eyes.

You looked down, finding you were shaking, before clenching your hands into fists. "It's nothing, it just happens sometimes."

"It's not nothing," Wednesday seethed, angered that you would dare lie to her face. "Why is it shaking? What's wrong?"

You looked like you were debating something for a long moment before you asked her. "Can you grab me one of the wisteria flower stocks?"

Wednesday narrows her eyes at your avoidance, but she gets up, pulls a flower stock off from one of the branches, and passes it to you as she sits down.

"Why does it shake like that?" Wednesday demanded again.

"It's my power," you answer softly, wrapping your fingers around the flower. Wednesday watched as the flower in your handle steadily withered and died. You were smiling at her, but your eyes had a distinct melancholy look.

"This happens when I don't use my powers enough or use them too much. Air is generally made up of a lot of different gases but too little or too much of one causes disruptions in my body because the equilibrium between the air outside and the air inside my body isn't stabilized," you shrugged, holding the withered wisteria flowers in your hands that no longer shook. "I try not to if I can, but plants are a cheat way for me to expel and absorb air to find the equilibrium."

"Why not? It's obviously the most efficient way to stop the shaking," Wednesday frowned.

You shrugged. "I don't think it's a good idea for people to realize there are drawbacks to my powers and how to fix them. It may start with plants, but people will eventually start fearing I can use people the same way."

"Can you?"

You quirked your lip in response, and Wednesday knew the answer.

"Besides," you sighed, dropping the dead wisteria stock with a regretful frown. "Some plants are really beautiful. It's a shame to kill them."

Wednesday looked up at the hanging flowers and scrunched her nose in disgust. "I encourage you to kill this offensively colorful tree."

"When it makes you so miserable? I can't deprive you of that."

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Now.

The silence drags on too long, and your lack of response prompts Wednesday to look at you.

You're staring at her before Wednesday watches peer down at your hand, intensely in thought. There's a mix of disbelief and curiosity in your eyes, and Wednesday doesn't understand why.

This was normal.

"Wednesday," you call her name softly, making Wednesday's eyes nearly flutter at the sound. But the next words make her freeze. "Was I in love with you?"

It's something in the way you say it, curious and accepting. Something rushes into Wednesday's chest like a stampede, and she realizes it's hope.

Your tone doesn't suggest you remember anything, but Wednesday rationalizes that it's fine. While it would be ideal that you remember everything, it's not a condition Wednesday holds.

You’re biting your bottom lip, looking reluctant. The silence falls again and lingers until you speak up again, trying to be firm.

"Wednesday, I don't know you—at least not anymore. I don't know what I felt about you before the accident...but that's gone. I'm not going to feel it just because you bring me to places that mattered to us. I don't remember it and I don’t understand it."

Stop talking.

Wednesday wants you to stop talking. She closes her eyes, turning her head away as if that would stop her from hearing your words.

You don't take the hint.

"I don't feel that way about you anymore."

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It was fine—it was.

Wednesday spends the rest of her week doing various things. She writes, then she goes to the library; she briefly goes to the bee club until she can't stand Eugene's chattering and leaves. She goes on walks with Enid, who smartly avoids talking about you, and sometimes subjects herself to Xavier's monologuing and brooding in his art studio.

Wednesday fills the days with various activities while simultaneously avoiding areas you'd be in. It's not that she's afraid of seeing you, but simply that she doesn't want to.

This is fine.

The day has come to an end, and the sun has long gone from the sky. Wednesday decides to return to her room and play the cello before bed.

This is for the best.

Wednesday focuses her thoughts on her cello and what she'll play, and perhaps Thing will be there to turn the pages for her.

It is meant to be this way.

The room is dark when she enters, and Wednesday knows Enid is not around. There's a small feeling of relief that she doesn't need to face her roommate right now.

The silence in the room feels jilting in a way Wednesday's not used to. She used to be content in the quiet...until you. Then she grew used to your presence and soft chatter around this hour.

Wednesday clenches her fists.

Good riddance.

You were a mistake, and you did her a favor by cutting ties. This was something Wednesday should've done herself a long time ago.

Thing greets her on her bed, and she acknowledges him with a nod. She shreds off her backpack and changes out of her uniform before grabbing her cello and heading out onto the balcony.

The scuttling footsteps behind Wednesday tell her that Thing is quickly following.

"Bring me the new music sheet to play," Wednesday directs. She needs to play something different that would require her focus instead of her usual repertoire, which would allow her mind to drift.

Wednesday starts playing immediately, eyes focusing on the notes she's playing while Thing diligently flips the pages for her.

This is good.

This keeps her mind focused and sharp. Wednesday doesn't have time to think about anything else when she has to focus on what note she'll be playing next.

Despite the new piece, though, Wednesday's mind begins to drift. She has to make a conscious effort to keep her focus on the music sheet in front of her, but you pop up in her mind interspersedly.

"Wednesday, I don't know you—at least not anymore."

Her fingers falter, her cello emitting a jagged sound from her mistake. It's so unbelievably frustrating. She hasn't ever made a mistake while playing her cello since she first started learning it as a child. Years and years have gone by without a single mistake, and it was all ruined because of you.

You plague her like a disease that festers under her skin. Wednesday's done her best to ignore you for days now. She's been ignoring the sight of you, the talks of you, and everything down to the thought of you.

Yet, you were still there, underneath everything. You simmer like a slow boiling kettle until you can't be ignored anymore.

Wednesday closes her eyes frustratingly, willing you to leave her mind. She threatens her brain to erase the thought of you. It'd clearly be so much easier to forget you. After all, look how simply you live now without a memory of Wednesday.

But you don't go away. The memories remain with Wednesday, torturing her for what will likely be the rest of her life.

This was not a form of torture Wednesday ever thought she'd have to endure.

Wednesday opens her eyes and stands abruptly as she walks back inside. She didn't bother turning on the lights, and the only thing illuminating the room was the moonlight shining through the balcony.

"I don't feel that way about you anymore."

Wednesday clenches her jaw and tightens her grip on her cello.

How entirely damning.

Suddenly, a white-hot ball of rage forms in Wednesday's chest; everything she's been trying to push down for the last few days spills over. Emotions run a rampage inside her, unable to be controlled and ignored any longer.

Wednesday lifts her cello before violently smashing it into the floor, the body of it breaking in an uneven half, wood splitting into multiple pieces. The tailpiece cracks, and the strings snap, one of them into Wednesday's hand and cutting it.

The rage and adrenaline in her body don't allow the pain to register, even if she can see the blood.

How could you forget?

Wednesday begins destroying other parts of her side of the room—her bed, her clothes, her books. She pushes her wardrobe over and knocks over the chair at her desk, the loud banging ringing in her ears but not loud enough to cover the pain in her chest.

Thing scuttles back and forth in worry, but he cannot do anything to help his friend. He immediately leaves out the door with a mission.

How could you not want to fall in love with her again?

Wednesday pushes her typewriter off her desk—she thrashes everything off her desk. Her beloved typewriter crashes into the floor, the carriage breaking off along with other various parts. Keys pop off, making a ruckus on the floor as they hit it, but it doesn't bring any relief.

None of this is.

Wednesday pulls open the drawer, grabs out her manuscript, and looks at the last few pages she's written. Viper falls in love with someone who helps her with her investigations, and Wednesday has written up to the part where Viper begrudgingly accepts that fact she has feelings for this person and accepts their confession.

Wednesday has never gotten rid of any parts of her work all these years. Sure, she's done revisions and draft editing, but every scene down to its core idea has never been removed. Wednesday is a stern believer that every scene is meant to happen, and she cannot change the course of her writing when she looks back.

But Wednesday begins to shred multiple pages. She shreds page after page but doesn't know when to stop. Should she stop before Viper gets involved with this person?

Along with the anger settles in hollowness.

It's the realization that even if Wednesday destroys these pages, she can't really undo the fact that Viper has met someone and fallen in love with them.

How could you leave Wednesday to remember everything alone?

Wednesday hears the door open, but she doesn't turn around.

"Wednesday?" Enid's voice is soft and unsure, full of concern.

Wednesday doesn't answer.

Enid steps further into the room, shutting the door behind her as she looks around. The room is a mess with so many broken items on the floor, but her side remains untouched, nearly down to the tape they removed ages ago.

Enid is careful as she makes her way to Wednesday, the girl's shoulder tense with obvious rage. But even so, Enid knows her roommate would never hurt her. So, she places a hand on her roommate's shoulder when she's next to Wednesday.

"Wednesday—"

Wednesday is quick to whip around and look at Enid with violently accusing eyes. "This is your fault," Wednesday spits out. "I wouldn't be feeling this—this loneliness if you haven't been spurring lies to me about love." The tone is filled with disgust at the last word.

Wednesday has never expressed any ounce of emotion that would allow her to scream at someone, but she wants to scream at Enid and can't. Even if she wanted to, her throat feels so raw with something Wednesday can only detect is the urge to cry.

But even if Wednesday threatens her body to refrain from crying, the salty water spills from her eyes without permission. The spill and spill, even if Wednesday doesn't make a single sound.

Enid doesn't care if Wednesday punches, stabs, or even kills her—she pulls Wednesday into a bone-crushing hug. Her roommate resists at first, pushing against Enid, but it's useless against her werewolf strength. Enid holds on, even as Wednesday's pushing turns into desperate clinging.

Wednesday's tears are hot, and Enid knows logically tears are always hot, but she finds herself surprised they are. It's just another sign her roommate is all too human too.

"It's okay, Wednesday, I swear," Enid whispers, rubbing Wednesday's back in soothing circles, even caressing her messy braids.

There's no heaving or loud sobbing, as that would be too much for the somber girl. Even so, Enid can feel the tears soak her neck and dampen her shoulder.

"It's not," Wednesday's voice is so raw, as if the girl had been violently sobbing. She clutches at Enid's back, her eyes blankly staring at the mess she's made of her room. Everything is out of place or broken.

It shouldn't be Enid here, but the person Wednesday wants will never show up.

"I don't have anyone anymore."

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x ofc #wednesday x ofc #wednesday addams #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega imagine #mm: my fics

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throneofsapphics · 9 months

Note

what do you think about slightly dark poly!rowaelin with dark reader but resder hides it and acts innocent, and one day she gets caught being crazy. like maybe she fights with someone and thinks no one will see her enjoying it. rowaelin catches her and they sooo approve. Potential smut👀👀

the thrill of it

poly!Rowaelin x reader.

Summary: Y/n has a secret, but she can’t keep it forever.

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: Violence, mentions of blood, suggestiveness, slightly dark, smut, overstimulation, light bondage, light d/s.

A/N: nsfw minors dni please! I loved this request thank you, also not proofread super well

She showed them exactly what she wanted them to see. Sure, they know she can protect herself, but that she’s a pacifist, won’t even kill a bug. Any yes, that really was her the majority of the time. Y/n does like quiet afternoons reading, walks in the gardens, convincing the cooks to let her bake cookies or sweets to surprise Aelin with.

Y/n found a certain thrill in violence. There wasn’t a fear they’d hate her if they found out, but she liked having a secret, something she could separate from her life at the castle.

Letting her aggression out in a legal, albeit brutal manner ended up as the best solution for her. The safest one. Maybe not all of it was ethical, but it was safer, nobody died during the fights, and there were rules. The biggest one being no weapons beyond their own body. The clubs were established for a reason, and she wasn’t banned from them.

She took painstaking efforts to make sure none of the regular patrols would recognize her. As soon as they appeared, she drifted into the shadows and streets. Or, if there’s advance warning, she wouldn't show at all.

Rowan and Aelin knew she spent a night with her friends once in a while, maybe a few times a month, and always comes back hungover as hell. But, she never told them exactly what happens on those nights out. And, her best friend, Ella, is skilled in healing magic, that takes care of any ‘evidence.’

Aedion went scouting, Partially to see which of his soldiers might be participating, and part to register potential threats. Normally he wouldn’t go alone, but rumors spread that certain notable participants would slip away whenever any ‘scouts’ would come by. The club wasn’t illegal. As far as he knows, everything is above board. With an influx of females, males, men, and women - all warriors or soldiers in their own right, inhabiting Orynth, it’s a safer way to let aggression and bloodlust out. Nothing like the pits or vaults of Rifthold. It was even clean. He slipped in right in the middle of a fight, the first of the night.

He would know that scent anywhere. Y/n was away from the castle tonight, and here of all gods-damned places. But where?

It took all of his restraint to stay exactly where he was when he tracked the scent. Without his Fae senses, he wouldn’t have recognized her, but there she was. Fighting. No weapons, only fists and against a rather large and vicious looking male. Not only fighting, but toying with him.

“End it!” Someone yelled. A friend of y/n’s, Ella, she was easily recognizable. He stayed enough to watch her beat him to a pulp, laughing as the man took the hand she offered, both them with smiles on their faces. His a bit bloody and missing a tooth.

“I’ll get you one of these days,” He muttered and she grinned.

“Maybe next time.” She’s a rutting regular. And a far better of a fighter than he knew, and likely her mates knew. Forget scouting, he was going back to Aelin and Rowan. Now.

They knew she was there, or hopefully would still be. Hopefully she hadn’t caught Aedion’s scent and left. He - both of them wanted to catch her there. That way she wouldn’t be able to deny a damned thing. Aelin already told him they couldn’t storm in there and drag her out. Although they both were very tempted to. Even though Aedion told them she downed a man three times her size with ease, he wouldn’t believe it unless he saw it with his own eyes.

Aelin set two rules. One, not revealing themselves. Two, not dragging her out.

They slunk inside, sticking to the shadows, Rowan’s wind hiding their scents from the Fae present. Some others wore hoods as well, even a few had masks on. But, the place was clean and the laughs were in good nature, not malicious.

His sweet, kind-hearted female who refused to kill a bug - somewhere like this. Those old senses flared, from when they’d first set their eyes on her. Something lingering underneath. He thought she’d healed it, let it drift away, but maybe she hid it. Rowan knows he should be angry, and he is, but a bit of excitement drifted in as well.

He immediately surveyed the room, to find a small, but subtle confrontation happening in the corner. A small voice in his head told him, y/n would be there, so he nudged Aelin, jerking his head towards the area.

One man was tossed out of the ring, pushed towards an exit, a burly man nodded subtly to a small female figure leaning against the wall. Y/n, she could recognize her anywhere, fisted the mans tunic and dragged him out a side door.

Aelin and Rowan didn’t have to look at each other to know they’d be following. She expected maybe she’d toss the man on his ass, but instead they found her pinning him into the ground, a sharp blade to his neck, one knee digging into his chest, and her boot crushing his right hand. Aelin could feel the satisfaction rolling from her. She was enjoying this. The man let out small whimpers, but didn’t dare trying to move.

She was well aware of who stood in the shadows, but couldn’t ‘break character,’ now. Not really a character, more another part of herself. A part she can't hide anymore. “Try that again and I’ll cut your balls off, and shove them down your throat,” she hissed. She dug her boot into his wrist, lifting the knife slightly, enough for him to nod, his eyes were filled with fear. She stepped away and he scrambled - sprinting out of the alley.

“Can you read?” She tilted her head, the knife shifted enough for him to nod. “Then you know the rules.”

“I wasn’t going to-” his voice was hoarse, cut off by a blade pressing back down.

“Try that again and I’ll cut your balls off and shove them down your throat.”

Y/n took a careful step back, and the man bolted. Her entire view of their mate changed in the last ten minutes, and Aelin didn’t mind at all.

“Not afraid of scaring off the business/” Rowan drawled as the man scattered.

“He’ll be back, his ego is bruised.” She still didn’t look at them, her eyes trained on where the man disappeared.

“And if he pulls that again?”

Y/n slowly turned, a half smile on her face. “I don’t make idle threats.” She had enforced one of those threats before, and enjoyed it.

“You’ve been keeping secrets,” Aelin purred, stalking towards her with Rowan matching her steps.

“You never asked,” y/n’s voice was still laced with honey, a sweetness and honestly that felt authentic. Lying by omission.

“You fake a hangover well.” Rowan commented, his face still a stony mask.

Her eyes widened before she chuckled, “those are very real.”

“Are you paid for this?” Rowan crossed his arms.

“All volunteer.” Aelin couldn’t decide if she wanted to throttle her or kiss her. Or fuck her till she forgot her name. She asked Rowan, directly into his mind.

“Why not all three?”

He threw her over his shoulder, stalking out of the alley and Aelin followed him with a grin. It would be a long night.

Y/n saw the looks on their faces, and noticed the shifts in her scent. A bit of anger, but excitement and arousal.

Rowan didn’t let her walk, as much as she banged her hands on his back and called him a variety of creative names. He didn’t put her down until they reached their room.

“You’re not finished yet, are you darling?” Aelin purred, as she struggled against the binds tying her arms to the headboard. She’d lost track of the amount of times she finished. Aelin was relentless, her hands pushed her knees apart. Again, spreading her wide open.

“I can’t,” she protested, “too much, it’s too much.”

“You can give her another.” Rowan’s hand twined in the back of her hair, arching y/n’s neck backwards to graze his canines along the column of her throat. She should be terrified that he could rip her throat out with one movement, but it excited her instead. The delicious combination of fear and arousal flooded through her, sending heat right to her core. Again. He moves away, but keeps a firm grip on her hair, forcing her to look down towards Aelin

She runs two fingers along her core and she jolt, letting out a small whimper. It’s burning.

“Please,” she started begging, “please, please,” and this time she’s not sure what she’s begging for.

Aelin held the fingers up, like a prize. Y/n’s slick arousal coated them. “Look how wet she is,” she smirked, looking at Rowan.

“Little dove, are you lying to us? Again.” Rowan’s canines nip at her ear.

Her head shook rapidly

“Really?” Her head tilts, “I thought you said it was too much.” Rowan’s deft fingers undo the ropes holding her hostage, and she sighed in relief, but that was short lived. Rowan slid behind her, using his knees to spread her legs back apart, before one arm pulled her back flush to his chest. Another tight hold she can’t escape, and she didn’t want to. Not really, even with her body on fire, every inch overstimulated

There’s no warning as his thumb presses down against her clit, sending her screaming, her head falling back against his shoulder. Aelin’s fingers slam back inside her, curling to hit that perfect spot, sliding back and forth across it. Her tongue draws across one nipple, circling it before tugging it with her teeth. Biting just enough to draw a whimper from her, turning into a moan, maybe a scream, or maybe their names as she adds another finger, pounding into her. Is it two? Three? She can’t tell as another orgasm wrecks through her body, walls clenching around her fingers, Rowan grunted as her body rubs against him, his hard length pressing into her back.

“Good girl,” Aelin whispers against her skin, kissing her way up y/n;s chest, before capturing her lips. The soft kisses left her dizzy as her fingers gently stroked her through her orgasm. Y/n didn’t notice Rowan had moved his hand away, now roughly gripping one of her breasts, twisting her nipple between his two fingers. The contrast between each of their touches left her reeling. She writhes against him, tears starting to stream down her face. Aelin only wipes them away, arousal still filling her scent.

“Now,” Aelin cooes and pulled her hand away. “It’s time to put that pretty mouth to use.”

Y/n knew she was in for a long night.

#throne of glass fic #rowaelin x reader #poly!rowaelin x reader #poly!rowaelin x y/n #rowaelin x y/n #rowan whitethorn x reader #aelin x reader #rowan whitethorn x y/n #aelin galathynius x reader #aelin galathynius x y/n #poly!Rowaelin #throne of glass smut #aelin x y/n #no beta we die like men #throne of glass #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #throne of glass x reader

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mr-orion · 3 months

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ok I must have more lore on this Icarus I keep seeing since I’m officially in love with him and want to kiss

he and I should kiss

also may I draw him bc that drawing you posted of him gossiping tickles my brain so much-

"I guess if the inspiration strikes... me being your muse must happen."

Oh boy. He's a bit of a firecracker and not very PG. He's in fact, kind of mean. As for the kissing, you and Ray both, though I think Icarus will shake you down for all your cash before you start getting any affection. As for drawing, yeah! I'm always grateful for any drawings and honestly treasure each one I get!

I don't see the harm in saying it as it is. He's a prostitute and escort. Man is raking in the big bucks working under Stags INC. The only reason Ray and him are friends is because Icarus has a lot of intel on the people manning the cartels. While Ray initially got his cooperation by bargaining to sweep his drug use under the carpet, he found Ray is a fun guy and not too sleazy to be around. Plus he's fun to tease, which is Icarus' favorite thing.

He's a Stav'raw, as opposed to Ray who is an Auveri. Unlike Ray he cannot fly. He has dense bones and his wings are only good for a glide. Which, he doesn't preen them. He was never taught so he is absolutely matted with feathers he hasn't thought to pull out. He's actually much more vibrant but because he's so fucking crusty with feathers from his whole existence you can't really tell. Additionally the sclera of his eyes is black. Along with his mouth and lips. He also gave himself a split tongue.

He comes from a very neglectful household with a mother who was a first generation Earthian and a non-existent father. He found his profession as a way out of that bad situation. Though Icarus' dream job is being able to help kids someday. He wants to be a pediatrician for alien children, believing that if one adult had noticed the abuse happening to him he could have been helped.

While Icarus doesn't think he'll make it because of his job history, Ray encourages him. Also reassures him that there are other ways he can help people. While Icarus is bummed he's only just starting to get into the 9 years of schooling at 28, he remains hopeful.

His hobbies consist of video games, nursing classes, clubbing, taking his dogs for walks along the beach, and riding his motorcycles around.

Another fun fact is that this man is absolutely the best of friends with Rays older brother Rowan. Though he has no clue the two are related because they look nothing alike and it's just never comes up. It will be chaos when all three of them figure it out and Rowan tries to beat him for trying to rizz up his beloved sibling. Ray will also get a scolding for bringing sweet, innocent Icarus into his less ethical detective practices. Ha.

Additionally, in freak coincidence Rowans child, is also his niece! He genuinely had no clue until one night in a deep conversation his best friend opened up about how similar Icarus looks to his niece, Onyx's egg donor. Icarus developed an even deeper hatred for his twin sister that night upon Rowan opening up even more about what his sister did to him. (It gets real fucking dark, so I'll spare those details.)

Icarus absolutely hates talking about his blood relations unless its Onyx. Who he treasures deeply and is so proud of. And by proxy Rowan. Of course. Who is his bro, his best friend, his pogchamp.

I can't think of much more, if you want to know something specific please feel free to send more asks!

#art #ocs #character art #my ocs #sketch #drawing #digital drawing #digital #oc ramble

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branwendaughterofllyr · 8 months

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Okay, but I did not become president of the Thaddeus Rowan hate club to be disrespected like this. The man had seven sons from his previous marriages and then went on to impregnate a fifteen year old and she DIED in childbirth. I am absolutely calling that problematic and hating on it

#and like #it’s a PRETTY obscure example that you would only know about if you read F&B

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finntheehumaneater · 1 month

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six sentence Sunday Monday

late to this one (as always)

I was tagged by the lovely @hbyrde36 and @pearynice, hallo 🩵

rules: post 6 sentences of an unfinished work

(From these dirt roads are empty, the ones we paved ourselves)

“Just um…wanted to look into the club,” he lied quickly, dropping his hands back at his sides, hating how they felt so useless and awkward just being there, not doing anything. “Hey, is there a, uh—a girl named Eddie in there?”

“Nope,” the guy said, crossing his arms. “I’m the only Eddie in this club. And—hold on, you wanted to look into Hellfire?”

“Hellfire, what….” Steve paused, squinting and looking back up at the paper sign above the door. His head hurt. “Oh, uh. Yeah. Yeah, sure. Right.”

—

tagging (no pressure 🩵): @ataliagold @paperbackribs @a-little-unsteddie (Rowan you have to do it. All the pressure mwhaha)

#Tag games #six sentence sunday #This might be more than six sentences #Lmao #but I do what I want #Rules are for non mentally ill people

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bullet-prooflove · 1 month

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A quick round up of updates on the blog including new characters added to the ASK LIST and a list of fics that went out last week:

New characters were added to the ask list this week so check them out!

New Fics:

Chicago PD:

Ghosts - Antonio struggles when you make a decision you feel is best for the both of you.

Criminal Minds:

White Picket Fence - You and Luke discuss the reality of a white picket fence.

CSI Vegas:

Shots - A shooter in the lab causes Josh to reveal his feelings for you.

FBI:

Home - You and Jubal discuss the future.

The Devil You Know - You are forced to make a decision after a visit from Rowan Quinn.

FBI Most Wanted:

Interruptions (NSFW) - Remy hates being interrupted.

Million Reasons - Remy realises he can't give you what you deserve.

Fire Country:

Something Else (NSFW) - Bode finds something he loves about life after incaraceration.

Haven:

The Day We Met - Dwight reflects on the day you met.

Trust - You tell Dwight the truth about your history.

Sensation - Nathan realises he can feel your touch.

Rain (NSFW) - Nathan makes love to you for the first time.

Eyes On Me (NSFW) - Nathan wants your eyes on him the whole time.

The Finder - Haven has away of giving you what you need even when you don't know what you're looking for.

Everything (NSFW) - You are everything to Duke.

The Musketeers:

Old Wives’ Tale - Athos has always hated mornings.

Lavender - Athos always associates the scent of lavender with you.

War - Athos never wanted this for you.

Ruin (NSFW) - Aramis ruins you, the same way you've ruined him.

Love Letter - Aramis recieves a letter from you that throws his world into turmoil.

Ma Cherie - Treville is surprised to find a naked woman in his bed.

The Duke's Chambers (NSFW) - Treville gets a little jealous when he sees you with another man.

One True Love - Treville has always loved you.

To The Grave - Your past comes back to haunt you.

In The Dark - Porthos turns up on your doorstep after spending time with Bonnaire.

Mayans:

Long!Distance Series: Part Two: Club Business (feat: Hank Loza) - Manny finally sits down with Hank Loza to discuss his relationship with you.

NCIS: LA:

3 Times Sabatino Thought About Proposing and the 1 Time He Did - Part Two: Sassy - Nik's plans to propose are thwarted by your sister Sassy.

The Rookie:

Bad Timing - You and John have always had bad timing.

Will Trent:

Trying!Series Part One: Notions - Seeing you with a baby opens Will up to a future he never contemplated.

#will trent #john nolan #vostanik sabatino #manny montana #athos #porthos #aramis #captain treville #duke crocker #dwight hendrickson #nathan wuornos #bode leone #bode donovan #remy scott #jubal valentine #josh folsom #joshua folsom #antonio dawson #luke alvez

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mariaofdoranelle · 2 years

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Silver Fox

AO3 link

Hi. I’ve got terrible flu and decided to heal myself with some self-indulgent Rowaelin (mostly) fluff. If you end up hating this, I’m totally blaming the meds lol who would’ve thought one of its side effects was poor editing?

I’d also like to thank @leiawritesstories for letting me use her professor’s Einstein joke. Absolutely priceless.

Word count: 6,2k

CW: swear words, drinking, mentions of cheating.

˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜

That’s it. I’m going to fuck his dad.

That was Aelin’s first thought when she saw the picture Lysandra sent of Chaol in a club with his hand under a girl’s skirt. With an attached message saying they left the party together.

At that point, Aelin was truly and thoroughly pissed. Their relationship wasn’t very fulfilling and she didn’t love him, but he had been a comfortable constant in her life for the past few months, specially since dating could be a handful when one’s not in a serious relationship already, with all the games, bad experiences and walking on eggshells. She couldn’t afford this now, getting through college was her main goal. But Chaol and her were supposed to be partners. Aelin could deal with a lot of things, but betrayal wasn’t one of them.

It was Saturday, so she woke up late to find the picture, and stayed a lot of time frozen in place, just reeling. To then start pacing around the house. Her third reaction to the betrayal was to forward her cheating (ex) boyfriend the picture and text “Don’t you dare trying to fix this.” when he started to apologize and request a conversation. Immediately after, she calmly laid in her bathtub, used her finest oils and lavender soap, put on a black lacy lingerie, black dress that was flirty but not too revealing, and red lipstick. She wasn’t getting ready to fuck Chaol’s dad, no. She was getting ready to have her revenge.

Her mind was on fire as she started driving to Anielle. Was she sure about that? Almost. Mr. Westfall never really liked her, but he and her parents were all politicians, and at least she was respected for the weight of her last name and her family’s legacy. Besides, even though they disagreed on everything, she had incredible assets. Aelin was confident enough to admit her looks made her hard to refuse. When added to the fact that Mr. Westfall didn’t care enough about his son to have this kind of loyalty to him, her mission was almost too easy. She didn’t care if Chaol’s dad was one of the most hateful people she ever met, getting revenge was enough to get her off. Her friends were always trying to warn her about him.

Aelin, his looks don’t make up for his personality.

Aelin, he’s too boring for you.

Aelin, he’s not a boyfriend, he’s a charity case.

And what did she gain from dating Chaol? Exac—

“What the fuck?”

When she looked up, there was a car in front of hers. One she just hit. Fuck. And it also wasn’t looking good. Aelin was starting to panic when she saw Rowan Whitethorn getting out of the car she just hit. Great. Her ex’s roommate. He was actually a sore spot on Chaol’s life, but she never figured it out besides not making it into the hockey team which Whitethorn was captain. Still, she wanted nothing to do with the people in Chaol’s life. Besides his dad, for one night. And the two friends they had in common. She was shutting the bastard out.

She left the car, looking intently at the damage until Rowan’s snap at her became impossible not to notice. “Seriously, Aelin? How fast were you going?”

“Oh, please. It’s not my fault you drive like an old lady.” Aelin couldn’t help the snarky comment. Without a car, her avenge was ten times more difficult to achieve now.

She watched Rowan close his eyes and breathe in and out a few times, deeply. Then he ran a hand through his silvery-blonde hair and asked “Are you injured? I’m fine so I’m just going to call insurance if you’re good as well.” It would be a jerk move to be sassy now, so she just told him to go ahead and make the call, and they decided to wait on the sidewalk while someone came to pick up their cars. They really were lucky no one got hurt. Both of the cars looked like a raisin where they crashed.

She was also really lucky Rowan wasn’t pressing charges. Actually, he didn’t even seem overly pissed, just mildly so. She knew him very little, but as Rowan was definitely the quiet type, he was never rude to her, which made her try harder to understand Chaol’s spite toward him. She looked sideways and saw her crashmate look up, breathe deep and think hard on something. Probably trying not to be pissed at her, the person who wasn’t looking where she was going and bumped into his car. Which now looked like the outside of a passion fruit. By now, she was actually thinking he was too nice.

At first, they didn’t say a thing. Just stayed sat on the sidewalk, slowly breathing while waiting for someone from the insurance company to come. At some point, Rowan silently offered her his water bottle, which she gladly took and then cleaned the lipstick smudge left there. She didn’t really know Rowan, but his steady presence was soothing. People watching on the street, with a breeze cooling her down, and breathing evenly for the first time since she found out she was being cheated on, Rowan probably had no idea how much this was calming her down. She was still mad at Chaol, but it was good to clear her head a little. Aelin wasn’t even counting the time, she was just happy to see it pass by her. At this moment, she didn’t feel like controlling anything.

A while later, Rowan broke the silence. “So, where were you going in such a hurry?” Even though his question was snarky, he kept a gentle tone.

Aelin wasn’t a very open person, and she didn’t feel ready yet to talk to any of her friends about the downfall of her relationship, but something about Rowan made him seem approachable. Safe, even. So she told him the truth.

“I was driving to fuck Mr. Westfall”.

Rowan’s cheeks flushed a little, but he kept his gaze intent on her. “You call your own boyfriend by his last name?”

“No, I mean his dad.”

At that, Rowan just gaped and stared at her, as if waiting for the clarification that it was a joke. Except that it wasn’t. She just raised one eyebrow at him and waited for his brain to start working again.

“I met him only once and he’s one of the most unpleasant people I know. You can’t be serious.”

“I never thought of him that way. In fact, I kind of always hated him, but Chaol and I broke up and I’m so mad at him I just feel like sleeping with his dad out of spite.”

He looked up a little and asked quietly “Can I be honest with you?”

“Always.”

He watched her a little and uttered with a small crooked smile “I always thought you were dating down by being with him.” Sounds like this was everyone’s opinion on her relationship. “Ugh, I know. My friends told me this at least a thousand times, but I didn’t really listen. You and my cousin Aedion are teammates, right?”

He peered at her, unsure where she was going. “Sure.”

“You know his girlfriend?”

“Yeah. Alyssa?”

For the first time that day, Aelin laughed. “Lysandra, yes.” Then she remembered where the conversation was going and the mood sobered. “So, she sent me last night a picture of him with another girl at a club, and told me they left together. I saw it this morning, forwarded to him and he didn’t even deny he cheated, just tried to mend our relationship. The rest you already know.”

Rowan looked thoughtful while processing the information, then asked “and you think sleeping with someone you dislike with help you somehow? I’d prefer to go for Dorian if I were in your shoes.”

“I’m really just doing it out of spite, and Mr. Westfall is the person Chaol has the strongest feelings, even though it’s hate. Besides, I had a quick fling with Dorian before dating Chaol and the three of us dealt well with it, it wouldn’t make that big impact.”

Rowan still looked quizzically at her, but he seemed amused. “I’m still not sure your big impact makes up for sleeping with someone that repulsing, but I’m sorry my slowness delayed your revenge. I would never purposefully come between a girl and her evil masterplans.”

Aelin just laughed, but didn’t want to stop the conversation. So they started to tentatively ask each other about college, which developed to an exchanging of funny stories. The pink tones of the sunset were reflected on Rowan’s face as Aelin did an impression of her professor. “And he said” —she took a moment as trying not to laugh— “Einstein. Yeah, sure, do the Einstein thing: grossly irresponsible research that’s gonna kill us all,” and then she lost it, both of them laughing so much they had to take gulps of air after.

In fact, they were having such a good time they missed when the crew came to take their cars. Not wanting their little encounter to be over, they decided on going to eat a burger together nearby. Casually. As two new friends who liked spending time together. Aelin was definitely not thinking about the way Rowan’s body made his shirt stretch, or how his scent of pine and snow hit her when he held the door for her, and it reminded her of home. When they sat on the table, she was decided to toss these thoughts aside. She should go with the basics. And fast, since he was looking intently at her silent figure as if trying to figure her out.

“What’s your favorite color?”

He looked surprised, but quickly answered. “Green.”

“Fitting.”

“How so?”

“You smell like pine.” So much for her ability to shove dangerous thoughts aside.

“Oh.” —he still had that dumbfounded expression on his gorgeous gorgeous face— “It’s probably from my shampoo or something. I hadn’t really noticed it before.”

Genuinely curious, Aelin couldn’t seem to shut up. “Is your hair naturally that color? It’s like you were born a Benjamin Button except that your hair stayed that way,” Rowan looked at a loss of words, so she added, “But I mean it in a good way! It’s quite cute, actually.”

Ignoring completely everything besides the last phrase, he just blushed and sheepishly asked “You think I’m cute?” Great. Aelin had her mouth opened as she tried to come up with an appropriate answer and they both were blushing now. With a much appreciated intervention, Rowan’s phone starting to vibrate endlessly and he rolled his eyes at whatever was happening on his screen.

“That would be Fenrys. He refuses to call me, but keeps sending a thread of meaningless texts until he has my attention.” He seemed fondly exasperated at his friend, which just made Aelin cackle more.

“But is it serious?”

Still texting this Fenrys guy, he replied “Of course not. He just want us to go clubbing with him.”

Her eyes widened. “Us?”

“Yeah, I told him I’m already busy and he told me to bring whoever I’m with. In my defense, he would invite my mom if it meant he would get his way. And he’d totally own it because he’s that kind of social butterfly.” The way he talked about Fenrys kind of reminded Aelin about her relationship with Aedion, like he was fondly exasperated of his annoying little brother. That only piked her interest even more.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

Rowan looked at her as if trying to understand. “Clubbing with Fenrys?”

“Sure, why not? I’m already dressed like I was going to, anyway.” She was laughing at her own joke while Rowan’s eyes roamed through her. Aelin didn’t know exactly what it meant, but the heat in his eyes burned on her skin, and the feeling was exhilarating because it had been a while since she last felt desired. Her thing with Chaol had been mundane, driven by routine. Hot team captain that looked at her like this? Aelin could deal with that.

When the food came, Aelin realized she was starving. She didn’t remember eating anything the whole day, probably forgetting to do so since finding out about being cheated on. And that burger was so good it should be illegal.

“That good, huh?” Rowan mused.

Oh, fuck. She was blushing now. Had she been eating too greedily? Did she forget to clean something off her face? Aelin was about to apologize when she noticed Rowan wasn’t reprimanding her, he actually looked amused. Wow. That was a new one. Still feeling shy and without knowing what to do, she just gave him a small smile. And received a full grin back.

“So… Were you going to see your friends when I slammed into your car?”

“Actually, I was going to my dad’s birthday. It’s only tomorrow, but I like to talk to my parents a little before the very chaotic part of the family arrives.”

She couldn’t help the giggle that came. “I don’t have a big family, but I’m very familiar with the ‘chaotic’ part. By the way, sorry for the crash. I hope you still make it tomorrow.”

“My cousin already offered to give me a ride tomorrow, don’t worry. I’m not half as mad as I should be about that crash. In fact, I’m not mad at all.” He tilted his head and seemed to be confused at himself, but both of them looked pleased. Good. She was liking this evening far too much for Rowan to have normal feelings about an accident that was totally her fault.

Talking to Rowan was easy. She didn’t know how to describe it. Aelin had been on so many dates —was that a date?— where she had to scramble her mind to find something to keep conversation going at least for another hour or so. Honestly, she didn’t know if she could do this after such a long day, but keeping a conversation with Rowan wasn’t an effort at all. They just jumped from one topic to another without even realizing it. It felt like they were in sync.

When the time came, they requested a car ride that dropped them in a place that definitely didn’t look like a club. Not the ones she frequented, at least. It was a big house that didn’t look like a frat, with a mechanical bull out front and a lot of drunk people. Rowan just said they should look for Fenrys and whoever was with him and held her hand. It was probably a meaningless thing, just trying not to lose each other in the crowd, but the moment his calloused hand gripped hers, Aelin could feel her whole body set alight just by that small act. She felt like an early teen getting noticed by her school crush. They only stopped walking when reached a table with two guys that looked a lot alike and… Elide and Lorcan? What the hell?

It turns out that Fenrys was a blonde guy with a brunette twin that left Aelin dying to ask if one of them painted their hair. They had been friends with Lorcan and Rowan forever, and even though Elide had only been seeing Lorcan for a few months, they acted like an old married couple so she already knew everyone in his life. After they were sat, Rowan carefully scooped closer to her, but didn’t go further because Lorcan suddenly snapped at her.

“Aren’t you dating that Kale guy?” No wonder why he had looked more annoyed than usual since she appeared holding hands with Rowan.

“Kale guy and I broke up.”

With an almost imperceptible smirk, he prompted “Good riddance.”

“Agreed.”

A bit after that, Elide asked Aelin to go get new drinks with her. When Lorcan and Rowan offered to do it, she shot daggers at both of them, leading to an apprehensive retreat. She meant business, them. After they had their Mojitos ready, Elide carefully stopped her from going back and whispered “Are you sure you’re okay? Lys told Aedion and I what happened, we were worried about you.”

“No need to fuss, losing my mind over that breakup is very six hours ago Aelin. I’m a new person now.” Aelin said that as a joke, but it was kind of true. She did feel different. Lighter. Anyway, she didn’t know what Elide saw in her at that moment, but it was enough to leave it alone for now. “Just don’t drink too much alcohol, you know the reactions it gives you.”

Aelin was genuinely confused now. “What reactions?”

“It makes your legs spread.” Elide wiggled her eyebrows and it was enough to make both of them crack up. The laughter had subsided a little when they reached the table, but Connall still asked what they were laughing about.

“We” —a brief pause. She couldn’t possibly tell the joke in front of Rowan now— “were wondering what exactly is this party.”

“A graduation party” Fenrys proudly answered.

“Cool. Who’s graduating?”

“I don’t know.”

The whole table seemed to stop a that. “What?”

“I’ve been going out with someone. Casually. She invited me to come to her friend’s graduation party but I asked her if I could bring a friend, since I’m only going to see her later.” A slow smirk. “So here y’all are. Enjoy the party.”

The whole crew still looked ashen a few beats later, when Rowan asked “So your version of ‘a friend’ is five people that girl doesn’t know?”

Fenrys looked completely confident when he smiled and answered “No need to fake outrage, you’re loving the free drinks.”

Honestly? She was. The drinks were flowing and Rowan’s friend group was really fun to be around. Except for Dorian and Nehemia, Chaol’s friends were always looking down on her for her life choices or political opinions. This change of scenario was refreshing.

Aelin couldn’t remember how many drinks she had, but she did remember promising Fenrys she’d ride the mechanical bull later. Apparently, ‘later’ was now. At first, she couldn’t get up on the bull, so Rowan went to her rescue and propped his hands so she could step on them to get her right leg on the other side of it. But they probably had the same idea on getting her momentum, because when Aelin jumped to ride the bull, Rowan also pushed her feet up, which sent her airborne until she landed on the other side of the air mattress. Aelin could barely distinguish Rowan’s voice asking if she was okay from all the laughter in the room, and it turns out she was laughing too. In fact, she really hoped Elide had it on camera.

On their second try she managed to land properly on the bull, and she felt glorious until that thing started moving. Aelin had no idea how much time she managed to stay sat on the bull, the only thing she knew was that she managed a few seconds before lying on it and holding on its neck with both arms like her life depended on it. She was really grateful for the spandex shorts Elide had brought for the occasion and ended up lending her, because otherwise she would be flashing everyone now. It probably wasn’t a long time after, but it certainly felt like a lifetime when the bull made a particularly sharp move and she finally fell. She would be grateful if her thigh didn’t hit one of the bull’s horns on her way down, which was likely to bruise soon.

Aelin had only a few seconds to lie down and reevaluate all her life choices that led to this mechanical bull until Rowan appeared before her. “Hey, you okay?” He looked concerned. Adorable. Little did he know she felt like she had died and came back by divine intervention. He checked her up and decided she was fine enough to go on, but the party started to fade away before she finished applying the ice pack that seemed to materialize on Rowan’s hand. The only thing he said to stop her complaining was “You’re injured, it’s absolutely necessary.” She wasn’t actually minding the hovering, but it was fun to tease him.

Elide, Lorcan and Fenrys already had plans that didn’t include them, but Connall was meeting his boyfriend Vaughan at another party and invited them along. Before making a decision, she quietly whispered to Rowan, “I don’t want to go to another party, but I really don’t want tonight to be over.”

“I live close by, we could go to my place if you feel like it,” Rowan suggested tentatively, but then quickly started to rectify his intentions “and I don’t mean anything by it, you know? We could just talk. Or not talk, really. Shit. I didn’t mean it like that.” —his cheeks reddened more each sentence— “What I’m trying to say is that whatever you want to do, I’ll be happy to oblige.” Rowan look positively ill by the end of his babble. She wondered if she’d ever see him that flustered without the booze.

The fact that Aelin would be going to her ex’s house was just a fleeting afterthought when she accepted the invitation.

They were very close to the exit of the house when a girl wearing a mortarboard hat and a bodycon dress bumped into them. Her shoulder slammed against Aelin’s, but she could smell a heavy scent of beer in her. The hostess, then. She looked confused to see both of them, but perked up again when Aelin started cheering her on. “Congratulations! And thank you for having us, we’re heading out now”

The girl sent Rowan a glance that didn’t hide she liked what she saw, then winked at Aelin before saying “You go ride that bull, girl.” The only answer she received was Aelin’s bark of laughter and Rowan’s mortified face.

Aelin decided his place was close enough to go by foot, but Rowan only agreed to it before checking how bad her bruises were looking and lending her his jacket so she wouldn’t catch a cold. She didn’t have the heart to tell him his jacket wasn’t going to stop a virus from entering her body.

Aelin looked up and sighed. “God, I could use a snack now.”

“There’s a 24-hour store nearby, wanna grab some food?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“What are you craving?”

She weighted her options a little before answering firmly “Cake.”

“Please don’t tell me you make those boxed cakes.” He looked horrified.

“Wrong. I don’t make any cakes. I’m very good at eating them, though.”

Rowan’s eyes glistened when he replied “Good to know. I’m very good at baking from scratch, but I’m not good at eating them.”

Aelin’s jaw was on the floor. She couldn’t have heard it right. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

He was laughing at her disbelief, which made her even more confused. How dare he. “I like to cook basically anything, but I find baking particularly relaxing when I’m stressed out, so I do it and then give it to someone else. I don’t like sweets.”

Oh my God. Was he even real? One person who only liked to bake, and another who only liked to eat. It was like they were meant to be. Aelin would never consider dating someone who didn’t like sweets, but this scenario turned out to be the best one she could imagine.

Inside the store, they settled for popcorn and also some booze.

“What do you want to drink?” Rowan asked her while reading the labels.

“Impress me.”

“Are you okay with red wine?”

“Red wine?” She tilted her head. “Are you trying to seduce me, Whitethorn?”

He had the gall to look sheepishly at her. “Only if you want me to.”

That made Aelin’s grin become predatory. “So you should know I’m a Pinot Noir kind of girl.” They only stared at each other for a while, the air heavy with the meaning of the words left unsaid. Then Rowan cleared his throat and chose some bottles.

When they finally got to the place he shared with Chaol and other two students, everything was dark and deadly quiet. Once in the kitchen, Aelin quickly settled into the role of sous chef. Except that this sous chef only helped when separating the ingredients and by giving moral support, but neither of them were calling her out on this. After baking, they happily sat on the kitchen floor with one bowl of popcorn and two glasses of wine while waiting for the chocolate cake to be ready —the one Rowan made from scratch, specially for her. She couldn’t get over this part—.

“So, don’t get me wrong, but your parents are those two big names in Terrasen’s politics. What made you go to med school?” People meddling in her career was a bit of a sour spot in her life, but he didn’t sound judgy, only curious. That was probably why she managed to give him a real answer, without being snarky.

“Honestly? I don’t know. The idea of healing people excited me, so I told my parents I wanted to be a doctor when I was eight years old. That never changed, and they were surprisingly cool about it. I’ve never felt like a rebel because I always had a choice.” Rowan looked proudly at her, so she prompted. “You?”

“I’ve never felt a huge calling for any profession. When the time came, I chose International Relations because it felt right. I wanted to be a bird when I was a kid.”

Aelin cackled hard at that. “Yes! How is this so fitting? You hover like an old Buzzard.”

He looked confused, until he was laughing along with her. If Aelin was sober, she’d worry about enjoying Rowan’s company way too much. She settled with the thought that it was just refreshing to spend time with someone who actually laughed at her jokes, that was all. When she came back to the moment, he was looking thoughtfully at her and running his thumb along her hand. She used her free hand to caress his cheek and he broke the silence a beat later.

“Are you still going after your ex’s dad?” Seriously? That was what he was thinking about?

Aelin’s hand that was resting on Rowan’s cheeks traveled to his silvery-blonde hair while she answered “I could really go for a silver fox now.”

His eyes widened slightly. “Mr. Westfall’s hair is not silver.”

“I know.” She was just glad he didn’t notice how terrible that pick up line was. Rowan just blinked as his whole face flushed. His mind was probably scrambling to something to say or do when they were interrupted.

“What. The. Fuck?” Said a very familiar voice.

She immediately noticed a smell of vodka and women’s perfume. When they looked up, Chaol was fuming on the kitchen entrance.

Rowan decided to start things peacefully. “Hey. I didn’t know you’d be here, you never stay in on the weekends.”

This was news to Aelin. “What does he mean you never stay home on the weekends?” Was she really that stupid?

“Get the fuck out of my relationship, Whitethorn—“

“Um, we broke up” Apparently, she still had to remind Chaol of this slight detail.

But he detected the smell of cake and continued. “Are you fucking baking for her? This is trying too hard to get in a girl’s pants, even for you.” Right now, Aelin’s only concern was on the oven. Was the cake ready? It smelled ready. She needed Chaol out of the kitchen soon. She was going to summon Rowan when she glanced at him and noticed he looked positively murderous.

“Seriously? You and the guys are the ones who eat my stuff the most. In fact, I’m practically the only one who cooks in this house. I saw you eat half a cake by yourself the other month, but you only tolerate me when it’s handy for you.”

“Can you blame me for not tolerating you when you’re foreplaying my girlfriend with chocolate cake? How long have you been planning this?” Aelin really couldn’t tell if Chaol was more pissed about her being with Rowan, or about her being fed by Rowan. But she decided to sort that out later, not wanting the cake to burn. She helped Rowan do it, it felt like it was her baby. Their baby. Whoa, too soon. She had too much to drink tonight. But then something clicked.

“Are you telling me you had access to half a cake and didn’t care to share with me, Chaol?”

He looked at her like she was a petulant child. “Aelin, we should go to my room and talk about this. I told you we can work things out. Going after Whitethorn just to spite me was a low blow, but I get why you’re angry. I see you, baby. It was just one mistake and honestly? It’d help a lot if your friends just stayed out of our relationship and—“

She had completely tuned him out by that point. Aelin was just nodding her head up and down, trying to distract him from Rowan and the cake. And Chaol seemed to believe her magnificent drunk acting. But then his red angry face and continuous babble —that actually meant something, but she didn’t feel like acknowledging it— reminded her of a tomato. Even better, of one of those Annoying Orange videos she used to watch a decade ago. She was trying not to laugh, but her shoulders were already shaking, and when Annoying Chaol stopped his speech and really looked at her, she couldn’t keep it together and started cracking up. Rowan sent her a confused look at first, but then started laughing too when he saw her amused expression.

Defeated, but too proud to assume so, Chaol just rolled his eyes and said “Come talk when you stop acting like a child.” before slamming the door and leaving the house. Both Rowan and Aelin managed to recompose themselves a bit before looking at the spot her ex was in and cackling again.

As she imagined, the cake was delicious. She was trying to eat as much as she could, but stopped when Rowan said she could take the whole thing home. He watched her in awe as she stood up, put both of her hands on the table and proudly announced “I’m going to take my ex’s advice and stop acting like a child. Do you want to see my last childish act, Buzzard?” Reluctantly pleased, he agreed and followed her up the stairs with two closed wine bottles.

Aelin couldn’t decide if it was a waste of Pinot Noir or not when she entered Chaol’s bedroom and painted his drawer with red wine. Shirts? Check. Underwear? Check. Very white socks? Check, check, check. Was tie dye still trending? She certainly hoped so.

She found Rowan propped against the doorframe, looking completely astonished. When she arched an eyebrow, waiting for a reproach, he just indulged her more. “You know, his bedsheets are looking awfully clean.”

“Remarkable observation, Buzzard.” Then she threw a bit more than half a bottle all over his bed, hoping it would stain not only the sheets. Two bottles of red wine spent on petty revenge, completely worth it. She hoped his other woman (or was it women?) would like the new theme. He could say he entered his new era. Finishing her abstract artwork, she schooled her face into a surprised look and said “Oh no! Now there’s only three beds! What are we going to do?”

“Do you think your ex will mind being the big spoon?” She cackled. Hard. It was difficult to picture tall, broody and brawny Rowan Whitethorn being the little spoon. He just put an offended hand on his chest and looked at Aelin in mock outrage. “Sexist much, Ace?” —Her new nickname falling like honey from his lips—, “Actually, I’m not even familiar with the wonders of little spooning. Girls always assume I’m going to be the big one.” Now, both of them were laughing, and somewhere between that and catching their breaths, Aelin held his hand and led him to his own room. He looked even more confused when she told him to lie down on his side. Rowan didn’t seem to catch up on her plans, but apparently he trusted her enough to oblige.

Their drunken mirth subsided at the same rate the tension grew. By the time Aelin laid behind Rowan, the room was deadly quiet. But it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, she felt… comfortable. It felt good to wrap one arm below Rowan’s neck and the other above his waist. At this point, she was certain they felt like two pieces falling into place. Aelin started using one of her arms to stroke his hair.

“Are you liking little spooning so far?”

The only answer she received was a grunt. “You are no better than a house cat.” was the only thing she said while continuing her work. She just wasn’t certain about her next step. He probably felt like this too, by the way his body shivered when she accidentally tucked her nose behind his neck and breathed right on his spine. So when he started lazily stroking her thigh from behind, the only warning she gave him was saying “Tell me if you want to stop,” before kissing down his neck.

His breathing turned heavier and she loved inhaling deeply his pine scent while kissing such a soft patch of skin. Rowan turned around, held himself up with one hand and brushed Aelin’s skin before dipping down and kissing her.

It was brief and tentative, but enough to feel the softness of his lips. For a beat they only looked at each other. She could see the gentle breeze coming from the window mess with a few wild strands of Rowan’s hair. When she focused back on his eyes, they were intent on her, its green shade even darker under the moonlight. He silently dipped his head and kissed her for real this time. And heaven didn’t get close to how she felt.

She could swear he was the oxygen that set her body on fire. She dragged her nails through the back of his scalp, making him shudder again and kiss her harder. Since Aelin had already learned his weak spots, it was only fair he learned hers. She moved them until she was straddling his thighs, grabbed a fistful of his hair and made him look into her eyes. Rowan looked completely captivated. Good enough to lead his mouth to her neck. By the time he was lavishing her collarbone, Aelin had started to move her hips against his, deepening the frenzy they were in. When she took his shirt off, she… stopped.

Sensing her hesitation, Rowan gazed at her and his eyes looked understanding. They were both drunk. This wasn’t a ‘now or never’ kind of situation, Aelin was almost certain she would still see a lot of Rowan. Soon. Besides, the little time she had before sunrise wasn’t enough to do all the things she wanted to do to him. Whatever was brewing between them, she had a feeling both of them thought it was going to be great. So she would take her time.

He kissed her forehead. The tip of her nose. Both of her cheekbones. Her chin. And then a peck on her lips. Another few ones. Until he started kissing her again for real, but this time it wasn’t essentially steamy. They were more on the soft side, and Aelin didn’t know which one she preferred. She was feeling hot as well before, but the main feeling she got now was affection. At that moment she was hit by the realization that she had never felt that much cherished by a lover before, and it felt incredible. Her connection with Rowan felt incredible. Even though they hadn’t paid attention to each other until twelve-ish hours ago.

There was some noise from the little movement on the streets, but nothing enough to burst the little bubble they created for themselves. They kissed and talked and laughed until the moonlight that gleamed on them was slowly replaced by the sunlight that was now painting their skins.

“Will you get mad if I tell you I’m actually glad I smashed your car?” Aelin was smiling as if she didn’t know she could get a law suit from this crash.

“No. In fact, I’d be offended if you were sorry at this point.” A brief kiss. “So, I don’t know when I’m getting back from my parents’s because I’m depending on Enda, but maybe I can see you tomorrow?” It was cute how hopeful he sounded.

“Weren’t you supposed to wait three days to text?”

His eyebrows rose dangerously close to his hairline. “You want me to wait three full days? That sounds like a terrible waste of time.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction. “Just kidding. Tomorrow is actually a slow day for me, text me when you’re free so we can figure something out.” She appeased him while saving her number on his phone. To her credit, he looked truly pleased now.

“Good. May I also send you a date suggestion? If it’s completely shit, you can make me wait three days.”

She kissed him for the last time that day.

“Tell me tomorrow.”

#rowaelin #aelin galathynius #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan whitethorn #throne of glass fanfiction #rowan x aelin #throne of glass #aelin x rowan #my writing

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contextmatters · 3 months

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Sometimes Lolita is so unserious because for as horrific as Humbert Humbert is why is he telling me how hot and sexy he is every other chapter.

#lolita 1955 #humbert humbert hate club #rowan rambles

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golden-kingdom · 1 year

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So Good - Part 1

Summary: Pop singer Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, better known as Celaena, had everything she wanted in life. Until she met Rowan Whitethorn at a party. She decides to stay away for her own good and his, but fate has a funny way of bringing them together again and again.

Based on the song So Good by Halsey.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Cursing, a bit of violence, drinking and drugs, asshole!Chaol (I'm sorry I promise I don't hate him), mention of cheating

This is my first fanfiction ever so please be kind with me. I don't really know how making music works so I'm sorry if the process doesn't make sense. This is inspired by the song So Good by Halsey and a bit by Halsey's life too. The song in the first part is called Sorry and is also by Halsey.

Masterlist

Read it on AO3

June 2019

Aelin loved a good party. And this was definitely one. She would know, she was the one who organized it. Dressed in a short golden dress that hugged every curve of her body, she made her way through the club to the birthday girl, her best friend and agent, Elide.

She found her surrounded by people she knew and some she didn’t. She had invited a lot of people. Elide had a big smile on her face and her face was flushed in a way Aelin knew she had already enjoyed a few drinks. Not that she had anything to say about it; she was the first one who got a shot for her friend when the party started. And then another one.

Aelin quickly found her way next to her friend and put an arm around her shoulders to catch her attention.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" she asked the short black-haired woman over the loud sound of the music and everyone talking.

"Yes! Thank you so much for this, Ae! But you know you didn’t have to," she replied, a little louder than necessary.

Aelin just shrugged and smiled.

"You only turn 25 once in your life! And you deserve to be celebrated," she replied.

Elide looked up at her and gave her a true smile. But then, something that looked like determination took over her face.

"Since you’re here, there’s someone I’d like you to meet." she said in her agent voice that had Aelin ready to turn on her heels. But the other woman grabbed her arm and pulled her forward to a few tall men talking.

Aelin knew one of them. Lorcan was the guitarist in her supporting band on tour and, to her greatest sorrow, Elide’s boyfriend. Lorcan and Aelin didn’t exactly get along. They bickered constantly and insulted each other every five minutes. But he was a great guitarist and Elide loved him for reasons unknown to Aelin. So, she had to tolerate him apparently.

Lorcan wasn’t the person who caught her eye in the small group though. Next to him was a very tall man (not huge like Lorcan, but definitely a lot taller than Aelin) with broad shoulders, tan skin and short silver hair. He looked a bit older than her and Elide. Probably in his early thirties. But what stroke Aelin was the intricate tattoo design descending his left arm. She would never admit it to anyone, but she definitely had a thing for tattoos. Especially on good-looking men like this one. Before he could catch her staring at him, Elide spoke.

"Aelin, this is Rowan Whitethorn. He’s a good friend of Lorcan and an amazing musician," she said, gesturing to the man she was just looking at.

He finally looked at her and Aelin took in his deep pine green eyes looking at her with intent like he was seizing her up, but she didn’t look away, holding his gaze.

"So, this is the famous Celaena? Nice to finally meet you," he said with a crooked smile.

He knew who she was… Of course, he did. Most people knew who she was. She was a pretty famous pop star after all. But she didn’t like to assume everybody knew that. And she certainly wasn’t going to let this handsome man she just met call her by her stage name.

"Please, call me Aelin," she smiled back.

"Remember that song you loved from Manon Blackbeak and the Thirteen, the one about witches slaying men? Rowan is the one who wrote the music," Elide told her, interrupting their little exchange.

"Yeah, that song was alright, I guess," joked Aelin, looking at Rowan to see his reaction.

She just found him smirking.

"I thought I would introduce the two of you. Maybe someday you can work on something together," explained Elide.

"Please, this is your birthday, Elide! Stop working, you’re not my agent tonight. Go have some fun please," said Aelin in an exasperated but amused tone.

On cue, as if it’s all she was waiting for, Elide took Lorcan by the arm and lead him toward the dancefloor. She had never seen Lorcan danced, but she guessed there was a first time for anything. He really was whipped for his girlfriend she thought.

"I’m sorry, I know you probably didn’t come here to talk work. Please allow me to buy you a drink as an apology," said Aelin to the silver-haired man still standing in front of her. They were the only two left from the small group.

"No worries. I don’t mind at all. But I’ll take you up on your offer for a drink," Rowan replied with a small smile.

Aelin went to the bar and, after getting two drinks, she went back to Rowan who was standing in a quieter part of the club. She handed him his drink, a whiskey on ice, and he thanked her. She just winked at him and gave him a mischievous smile.

"So how do you have the great displeasure of knowing Lorcan Salvaterre?" she asked him.

He laughed, not a full-on laughter, but his face lit up and his features softened a little. He really was beautiful, especially like this. Now all she could think about was making him laugh again if that was the reaction she got.

"Lorcan is one of my best friends. We met when we were younger. We actually had a band together years ago," he replied, taking a sip of his drink.

She watched the way his throat bobbed while he swallowed the drink and felt a little hot inside. She quickly looked back at his face.

"Lorcan was in a band? With you? What was it called?" she asked, focusing on his answer and not how big his hands were around the glass… She definitely had too much to drink. She had just met the man for Gods’ sake. She needed to get a grip.

"The Cadre," Rowan said, apparently obvious to what she was thinking. Good. "But it never really took off, and we all ended up parting ways and doing our own thing. We’re still good friends though."

"I always wanted to be in a band. I mean, I guess, I kinda have one now, but it’s not the same when you’re a solo artist. It can feel a bit lonely sometimes," Aelin said with honesty, taking a sip of her own drink.

"So, the life of a world-famous pop star is not all it’s cracked up to be?" the man said, joking, but looking at her with the same honesty.

"I mean, it definitely has its perks," she laughed. "Like the endless amount of designer clothes I get gifted! But it also means I’m always touring the world and I cannot see my friends and family like I want to. And I don’t ever really feel home anywhere," she confessed in a small voice.

"I can relate to that. It feels like I’ve always drifted from places to places, and never had somewhere I could settle down and call home…" he said, looking at her with a look she couldn’t quite place.

She wanted to ask more, but he sighed and said: "I have to go, but here’s my number. Text me if you wanna make some music together. I have a studio at my apartment."

"I’ll have to think about it," replied Aelin trying not to look too excited by the idea of seeing him again.

He gave her a small smile and a nod.

"I hope you have a great night, Aelin. It was really nice meeting you," he said and then he left.

Aelin tried not to be too disappointed that he left so early. She wished she could have talked to him more. She wanted to know more about this man. She downed the rest of her drink and went to join her friends, trying not to think too much about what he made her feel.

…

It took a lot of strength for Aelin to not text Rowan the next morning. But she had more pride than that. She would make him wait a little. Even though she was dying to see the man again. It was dumb she knew it, they only had a short conversation, but she couldn’t help but like him. And there was the fact that he was pretty damn attractive if she said so. She shook her head and sighed. She needed to work. She went to get her notebook in which she wrote all of her lyrics and jostled down a few ideas.

…

She ended up texting Rowan four days later. His reply came quickly, and they agreed to meet at Rowan’s apartment the next night to work on the latest lyrics she had written. Aelin knew this was only a work thing, but she couldn’t help but feel excited to see Rowan again. She might have thought a little too long about what she should wear and if she should put her hair up or let it down. It was just for work she reminded herself.

…

The night was dark and the stars hidden by the city lights when Aelin made her way to Rowan’s apartment. She was wearing a green summer dress and she had decided to let her golden hair flow freely down her back. The air was still warm from the day’s sun, but the breeze made it comfortable as she walked from her car to the address he had given her.

She got in front of an unassuming building and looked at her phone again to make sure she had the address right. When she was sure, she knocked on the door. After a couple of seconds, Rowan’s face appeared in the doorway.

"Hey," he said with a soft smile. He looked happy to see her.

"Hey," she replied, shy suddenly.

"Come in, please," he said as he motioned for her to come inside his apartment.

She walked in and looked around, curious to see what Rowan’s place looked like. Somehow, even though they didn’t know each other much, it felt very much like him. Everything was clean and in order, but in a way that still felt welcoming and cozy. The walls were a warm white and the furniture made of wood. There were a few pictures on the walls.

"I like it," she said, still looking around.

"Thank you," he replied. "Follow me, I’ll show you the studio."

She followed him down a hallway and she wanted to ask him to show her around, but she didn’t. Instead, she followed after him into a room that was darker than the rest of the apartment and full of fancy equipment and instruments. This was a really nice home studio she thought as she took it in. She spotted a black leather couch and she sat down. Rowan sat next to her.

"So, I guess we should get right into it," she said with a small nervous laugh, pulling out her notebook from her bag.

"Do you want to show me what you were working on?" he asked.

She showed him the lyrics she had written so far, and he asked her a couple of questions about what she wanted the song to sound like. They agreed that piano is what would sound best with the lyrics, so he got up and went to sit at the keyboard. He seemed to be thinking for a little while, but then he started hitting the keys. He tried out a few tunes, asking her for her opinion. They worked like that for a while until they figured out something they liked.

"Do you wanna try it with the lyrics?" he asked Aelin.

"Yeah, good idea," she replied.

She started singing the chorus she had written down while he played the tune on the keyboard.

"So, I’m sorry to my unknown lover. Sorry that I can’t believe; that anybody ever really starts to fall in love with me. Sorry to my unknown lover. Sorry I could be so blind. Didn’t mean to leave you and all of the things that we had behind."

He stopped and looked at her like he wanted to ask something, but instead he said: "I like how that sounds. Let’s work on the rest of the song."

They worked for a while. Aelin didn’t know how long exactly. It could have been 45 minutes or a few hours. She found she really liked working with Rowan. It’s like he knew exactly what she wanted. They understood and completed each other well. She was now sitting next to him at the keyboard, entirely too aware of how close he was, trying out different melodies with the new lyrics she had written.

"I think it should go," she said as she demonstrated what she meant on the keyboard.

"What if we do this" he replied, and then, to her surprise, he put his hands on hers to show her the keys he was talking about. Time stopped and Aelin held her breath. She felt electricity run through her body at the simple touch. She looked down at where his hands held her infinitely smaller ones. She suddenly felt the need to have those hands on her face, on her waist, over her whole body.

Rowan seemed to realize what he was doing and removed his hands from on top of hers. There was a silence and then they looked at each other. They were sitting close enough on the small bench that she could feel his warm breath. The look in his eyes was both soft and something else. He pulled his face a bit closer to hers. She didn’t move, waiting to see what he was going to do…

The front door of the apartment suddenly opening startled both of them and Rowan moved away from her, sitting at the far edge of the seat, as if he wanted to be as far away from her as possible.

"Baby, it’s me!" a female voice said and Aelin felt the blood leave her face.

"In here, I’m in the studio," replied Rowan.

Aelin got off the bench quickly and went to sit back on the couch. A beautiful brown-haired woman peeked her head through the door.

"Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were working," she apologized with a smile.

"No worries, babe, Aelin was just about to leave anyway."

Aelin felt like she was going to be sick. She needed to get out of here. The woman looked at her with her lovely chestnut eyes and seemed to recognize who she was.

"Hi! I’m Lyria, Rowan’s girlfriend, so nice to meet you," she said, getting inside the studio and holding out a hand.

Aelin couldn’t think, her brain was going too fast and all she could register is that Rowan had a girlfriend, but she shook her hand lightly.

"Aelin. Nice to meet you too… I’ve got to go, I’m sorry," she replied as she got up. "Thank you, Rowan, I’ll text you about the song." Then she grabbed her notebook and her bag and left the small studio.

She was almost at the front door when she heard Rowan behind her.

"Aelin, wait!"

She didn’t reply. Instead, she opened the door and ran to her car. When she was sitting inside her car, she let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding and a small sob escaped her mouth. She knew there were tears in her eyes, but she just turned her car on and focused on getting home as quickly as possible.

…

January 2020

Aelin kept checking her phone. She was sitting in her chair letting her make-up artist, Nesryn, do her thing, but she had a hard time staying still. She hated giving her a hard time; she prided herself on not being a diva. Especially since Nesryn was basically her friend after all those years working with together. But today wasn’t a good day. She was already late to the event and the person accompanying her, her boyfriend, wasn’t replying to her texts.

She heard the door of the room open and was ready to give him an earful about how late he was, when Lysandra appeared with her outfit for tonight on her arm.

"Hey rockstar! Ready for the red carpet? Elide keeps texting me that we’re late, but I told her to stop worrying so much or she was gonna get wrinkles before her time," she joked.

Lysandra stopped in her track at the lack of response from Aelin and looked at her friend.

"Why are you in a bad mood?" she asked. When Aelin didn’t answer, she added: "What did that asshole do again? Do I need to text your cousin so he can kick his ass like he’s wanted to do for ages?"

"No, please, leave Aedion out of this. As much as it would please me, I don’t need more drama in my life," finally replied Aelin. She sighed and breathed in and out to calm her anger. "He was supposed to join me here an hour ago and he isn’t even replying to my texts." She threw her phone on the bed.

"I’m sorry, Ae. And I know you’re tired of hearing me say this, but you deserve better than Chaol Westfall."

Aelin knew she deserved better. She didn’t even know why she kept putting up with his shit. It’s not like she was in love with the man. But they had been good together. At the beginning.

"You don’t need him anyway. You will blow everyone away in that dress," said Lysandra.

"Okay, I’m done" said Nesryn, putting the final touches to her make-up. As soon as she had stopped, Aelin got up from the chair and headed for the dress that Lysandra had laid on the bed.

"Can you help me, Lys?" she said while she removed her robe and stood in her underwear. It was nothing that the two women hadn’t seen before, and Aelin was far from being a prude.

"What kind of stylist and friend would I be if I didn’t help you put on your dress?"

Aelin picked up the dress and Lysandra quickly came next to her to help her in. The dress had a sheer corset lined with emerald green that hung to her curves and pushed up her breast. The skirt of the dress was in the same green color and was made of silk. It had subtle flattering draping at the waist and it flowed down her legs. There was thigh-high slit putting her left leg on display. She paired it with satin green pumps and diamond drop earrings. Her golden blonde hair was parted on the side and the curls flew down her back. Nesryn came to check that her hair and make-up were still perfect.

"You look like a queen!" said Lysandra, checking her out from head to toe. "Chaol is gonna be furious when he sees what he missed on."

"Well, if he even bothers showing up," Aelin replied.

Then she was heading downstairs and got into a sleek black car where Elide was waiting for her.

"Ready?" she said, not even mentioning Chaol’s absence. She knew Aelin too well to ask.

They drove to the place where the event was being held and Aelin waited for her cue to come out of the car. When it was her turn, she came out, Elide behind her, and smiled at the photographers and fans lining up. She walked down the red carpet, taking her time and posing.

The photographers were screaming her name and trying to catch her attention. She was blinded by flashes, but she kept smiling. Walking the red carpet was far from being her favorite thing but it came with her job. She kept going for five long minutes before Elide called her name and motioned for her to come. She stopped to sign and take a few selfies with fans, and then she was on her way inside. She let out a breath when she passed the doors.

Aelin and her agent were seated at a round table in a grand room decorated for the occasion and a waiter immediately approached to offer them something to drink. Taking a sip from her champagne glass, she looked around the room. She knew most people who were here. The industry wasn’t very big.

She looked to the empty seat next to her and tried to supress the anger that was overwhelming her again. She hadn’t checked her phone, but she knew he hadn’t texted her back. Her throat was tight, so she gulped down her drink.

She didn’t notice a group of people heading toward the table and sitting down across from her, too busy mulling over her jerk of a boyfriend. She only looked up when she heard Elide talking with the people who had just sat down. There was a gorgeous blonde man with tan skin sitting next to an equally gorgeous black woman. She recognized the woman as Nehemia Ytger, an upcoming actress who was rapidly making her way to the top. She guessed the man was probably an actor too with the white smile he had plastered on.

But then, she blanched. She recognized the sound of his voice first. And when she looked at who else she would be sharing the evening with, she had to hold the table with two hands. His silver hair was a bit longer and he seemed tired, but he looked as beautiful as the last time she had seen him. He was sitting next to a man who looked eerily similar to the blonde one except for his dark hair. He seemed to notice she was watching him because, before she could look away, Rowan Whitethorn was looking at her. His green eyes seemed unsure. She couldn’t help but smile tentatively. They hadn’t seen each other since last summer. To her surprise, he returned her smile with a genuine one.

"Aelin, you already know Rowan. This is Nehemia Ytger, Fenrys Moonbeam and Connall Moonbeam," Elide said as she pointed to the actress and then to the blonde man and the dark-haired one. Twins, that made sense.

"Pleased to meet you," said Fenrys in a flirty tone.

She couldn’t help but laugh. He didn’t seem upset by her reaction; he just gave her a charming smile. Rowan rolled his eyes at his friend’s antics.

Everyone started talking and soon the dinner was served. As she was eating, Aelin kept glancing over at Rowan whenever she made a joke or said something she though he might find interesting. He seemed to notice at some point because he looked at her and she looked away, a little embarrassed to have been caught.

After they had finished eating, everyone started to mingle and go around the room to talk to people at other tables. Elide’s phone started ringing and she told Aelin she had to take it. She left the room and Aelin realized she was sitting alone with Rowan. He smiled at her and she felt butterflies in her stomach. She reminded herself he had a girlfriend. A very real girlfriend who was probably waiting for him at home.

"I have to say, you look amazing tonight" Rowan said softly.

And just like that, the butterflies were back in her stomach. She blushed a little.

"Thank you, you clean up quite well yourself" she replied with a smile.

There was an awkward silence.

"Lyria couldn’t come?" she couldn’t help but ask, even though she regretted it as soon as the words left her mouth.

"No, she had something important at work."

"Oh, I see. Well, my boyfriend couldn’t come either, though I doubt his reasons are as good," she said as she pointed to the empty seat.

He looked at her with a sad face. She didn’t need his pity, so she said: "It’s all good though because that leaves more dessert for me."

He laughed a little. Then he turned more serious.

"Aelin, I wanted to say… About last time…" he started but she interrupted him before he could finish.

"Don’t worry, it’s all forgotten," she said with a fake smile she had years to practice. "So, what have you been working on lately?"

He looked taken aback by her reply, but he took a sip of his drink and said: "Nothing big, just small things here and there. I’m working on an album, I mean, my own album. I’m not signed so it would be home-made, but I like the freedom of creativity."

"I didn’t know you could sing!"

"Well, clearly not as well as you, but I manage I guess."

"Please, I bet you have a beautiful voice."

"You should come by some time. I could make you listen. I’d love to have your opinion."

She was going to reply that it was a bad idea when she spotted something, or rather someone, in the corner of the room.

"I’m really sorry, but I have to go. I’ll be back."

She didn’t wait for his reply and got up, walking up to the person she had seen.

At first, she thought she could’ve been mistaken, but as she got closer and she saw a tall man talking to a beautiful redhead from a little too close, she knew her eyes hadn’t failed her. Chaol had come to the event. But not with her. There was a fire burning inside of her; she couldn’t think straight anymore because of how furious she was.

"Excuse me," she said curtly to the woman. "I need to talk to him for a second."

Then she roughly grabbed Chaol by the arm and led him to a place where they wouldn’t be the center of the attention. She let his arm go quickly; she couldn’t bear to be touching him right now.

"What the hell? Where the fuck have you been? I waited for you for an hour and texted you about ten times, you asshole!" she tried to keep her tone down to not attract attention, but she wanted to yell at him.

"Calm down, babe. I’m here now, aren’t I?" he said, trying to play it cool. He ran his hand through his brown hair and looked at her with guilty eyes.

"We were supposed to walk the red carpet and sit together! And then, I see you flirting with this woman in front of everyone. What is wrong with you?"

"I’m sorry, darling. I was looking for you I swear. Let me make it up to you," he said, trying to grab her hand, but she noticed his voice was slurred.

"What are you on?"

He started to open his mouth to reply, but she cut him off.

"No, don’t even bother answering, I don’t wanna know. You and I are over. I’ve had enough of your bullshit. I thought you were done with all that shit. You promised me last time. And now you’re cheating on me? I deserve better than this after everything I did for you," she said.

Chaol tried to grab her arm as she was leaving and she was ready to knee him in the groin, but someone else stepped in.

"She said it was over. Don’t touch her. I suggest you go back home and sober up," growled Rowan. She didn’t know when had gotten here.

"Who the fuck are you? She’s my girl and I will do whatever I want," Chaol snapped back.

Before Aelin knew what was happening, Rowan had punched Chaol in the face. He lost his balance and swayed a little, but then he was looking at Rowan with violence in his eyes. He tried to punch him back, but security stepped in and separated the two men as Aelin looked in shock. But Chaol wasn’t having it and kept trying to get out of their grip to get to Rowan who was standing in front of Aelin. Security escorted Chaol out of the room as he promised to make him pay for this. Luckily, most people were too busy chatting and the music was too loud for them to notice what had happened.

Rowan turned to look at her.

"Are you okay?" he said, worry in his voice.

"Yeah, I think so," she said in a small voice.

Suddenly, Elide appeared. She looked at the both of them, and took in Rowan’s dishevelled appearance and Aelin’s face.

"Gods! What happened?" she asked. When neither of them replied, she said: "Come on, let’s go home, Ae. Goodnight, Rowan."

Aelin looked at him. She didn’t know what to say. She followed Elide and, outside, they got into a car that was waiting by the entrance. Elide gave them the address and they rode back to Aelin’s house in silence. Aelin closed her eyes and a tear fell down her cheek.

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rowanaelinn · 1 year

Text

Illicit Affairs - Helia’s Secret

Masterlist

Written for When Aelin Is Away prompt @rowaelinscourt

Warnings: mentions of death | Word Count: 2,200

On a bright and cold day of December, Rowan was interrupted by his daughter in his study. With her irresistible smile, she asked him if he’d like to go out to eat something. The request alone told him this outing was more important than just some father/daughter moment. Contrary to Helia’s mother, Aelin who was away on a work trip, Rowan hated eating out or ordering food in. Aelin always referred to him as a health junky, and he supposed she was right. His daughter knew that, as well.

No questions asked, Rowan had stopped in his work and told his daughter to get into his car. “Can I drive?” She asked sweetly.

She didn’t have her license yet, and he was in the process of teaching her. He glared at her, his only answer. He loved his daughter, the Gods knew he did, but she was awful at driving. Again, he didn’t know how but it was something she picked from Aelin. Whenever he was driven by any of his girls, he feared for his life. He’d never say it out loud, though, or he’d actually die.

“Boring old man,” she rolled her eyes and climbed on the passenger side of the car.

He snorted, unaffected by the insult. Not a day went by in the Whitethorn house without a remark being made about his age.

“Where are we going?” He asked her. She knew restaurants more than he did. She was his little savior, always recommending him the best restaurants to take Aelin to on their date nights.

“Can we go to that place I like? With their pastas?”

“Sure,” he nodded, and shifted to first gear.

While he’d been more than good at STEM subjects, Helia was the definition of the perfect humanity student. Even at only fifteen, she knew three languages, well on her way to learn a fourth. She loved eating at Emrys because the old man there spoke the old language, and she’d been learning that language for years now.

Once they arrived at the place and a waiter took in their order, Rowan waited. Nothing good would come from pushing her if she had something to tell him. He tried to keep his face neutral, but inside he prayed that whatever it was it wasn’t too serious. He seriously prayed she wasn’t pregnant. He couldn’t be a grandfather now—and Aelin would joke endlessly about it—and Helia was still… a baby.

His baby. Even if he knew she would deny it. She was growing, he was aware of it. He also knew that his days were counted until she moved away from him for college, and sometimes he wished he could always keep her under his roof. “How’s school?” He started, not truly knowing on which feet to dance. Maybe if he initiated the conversation, it was better for her.

“Oh, everything’s fine,” she shrugged. “I’ve signed in for the theater club, like I said I would.”

“That’s good,” He nodded. “Are you happy about that?”

“Yeah, sure. Plus, Talia has signed up for it as well, so it’s good.”

Talia was Helia’s best friend, or girl best friend to not forget about Loren. They’d met when they were six and hadn’t left each other side since. Hellas, sometimes Rowan felt as if Talia was his daughter as well because of all the time she spent at their house.

Their pasta arrived right after, and she started clapping in her hands with excitement. “Thank you, dad.”

He frowned, “You don’t have to thank me for keeping you fed.”

She shrugged, “You could have said no to going out.”

Right, that was an opportunity he would take. “I felt like you had something to tell me.”

She looked away, fixating her green eyes on the man behind him as her mouth moved to the side. He didn’t enjoy seeing her this way, and she looked down at her lap. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything.

“I-I do.”

“I’m all ears, baby,” he smiled at her, trying to encourage her even if he was dying inside.

She took a deep breath and finally looked at him. She wasn’t usually one to be shy, she had never grown out of that outspoken and extrovert phase she’d had as a child, and it was that that troubled him the most. She swallowed with difficultly before she said, “I don’t really know how to say it, so I guess I’m just gonna go straight to the point. You like straight to the point anyway, you’re like… the most direct person ever. Always going straight to the point—”

“Which you’re not doing right now,” he noted with a touch of humor.

She glared at him, and he was happy to find some of her fire back. She took a deep breath and said quickly, “I like girls, dad. Like, I’m a… I’m a lesbian.”

“Okay…?” Well, he’d expected another kind of news. “Congrats?”

She frowned, and asked with heat, “What do you mean okay, congrats?”

He looked around the restaurant before replying, “I just wasn’t aware that I wasn’t supposed to know.”

Her face paled, “You knew? All this time, I’ve been worried sick about telling you, but you knew?”

“Helia, why have you worried in the first place? I love you, I don’t give a shit about who you love, as long as they are treating you right. And yes, I did have strong suspicions of it, but I never expected you to come out to me. I thought you’d just bring someone home and that’s it.”

“So… You’re not upset?” She asked, her voice quiet. Worried.

His heart squeezed in his chest, and he debated standing to hug her. “You thought I’d be?”

She shrugged, “I didn’t know how you’d react. I was scared you’d leave me.”

Alright, fuck it, he stood and leaned into his daughter, wrapping his arms around her. She buried her head into his chest and sniffed. He rubbed her back and kissed the top of her head, “I love you, always. Nothing you do could change it, alright?”

“I love you, dad.”

He sat back in his seat, and she asked, “What gave you those suspicions?”

He huffed a laugh, “You made your barbies kiss when you were a kid, Lia, which was quite telling if I have to be honest. And when you turned six, I think, you started speaking about how boys at school were ugly and annoying and didn’t understand why your friends wanted a boyfriend when girls were just more interesting.”

She bit her lips to avoid laughing, while Rowan was full-on grinning.

“And,” he kept going, “You never talked to me about a boy.”

“I never told you about a girl either,” she noted with a strong argument. Good thing, as she wished to be a lawyer. He had no doubts she’d make it.

“Which is why I never brought up the subject,” he said. “I could have been wrong.”

She let out a long breath, “Alright, that’s not the reaction I expected but I cannot complain.”

He cocked his head to the side and asked, “Have you told your mother?” If Helia had asked Aelin to keep the secret, she would have, and Rowan couldn’t fault her for that. She had Helia’s entire trust, and it was a good thing.

She winced, “Well, I did tell the dead one.”

Rowan’s brows furrowed and his lips parted, but he couldn’t say anything. He could only look at his daughter in confusion, and she shrugged, “What? I killed her, I can at least keep her entertained in her grave.”

“No,” he said, voice hard. “You did not kill your mother, Helia.”

Helia had never had a problem having two mothers and called them both the same way. Aelin never had a problem with it, had encouraged it even.

She looked away, all swagger fading away from her eyes. There was a vulnerability showing in her eyes, one he wasn’t used to seeing in his daughter. But he, unfortunately, knew it all too well, the guilt that ate someone alive. “Hey,” he breathed. “Lia, do you feel like you killed her?”

“I did, didn’t I?” She said, eyes filling with tears. “If she hadn’t been pregnant with me, her body might have been less exhausted. She would have survived the shock, would have survived the blood loss if she hadn’t had to give birth to me.”

“The only people who are responsible for your mother’s death are the Gods and fate. She was thrilled at the idea of having you, you know. You made her so happy,” that was the truth. Lyria hadn’t been good for him, hadn’t been the right person. But she would have been an amazing mother to Helia, that was something he didn’t doubt.

“I just sometimes fear that you resent me for it, you know?” She admitted, bottom lip quivering. “That if I wasn’t here, you’d still be happily married and all. I kind of ruined it all.”

“No,” he stopped her right there. “Baby, I could never regret you a single day of my life. You made me want to be better, you and Aelin put me out of a dark place I wouldn’t have survived on my own. And…” He sighed. “I hope it doesn’t upset you, but even if your mother had survived, I don’t think we’d still be together.”

Her smile turned watery, “Because it’s always been Aelin?”

“Exactly,” he said, smiling a little. She’d summed it up perfectly. “But it doesn’t mean I didn’t love your mom, because I did. Sometimes, life just surprises us.”

“I know, dad,” she smiled, and then took a deep breath. “How do you think mom would have reacted? To me being a lesbian?”

“She would have loved you just the same she did the day before,” he said, truthful. “She would have been proud of you, for being who you are. Just the way that I am.”

She quickly wiped away a tear from her cheek and tilted her head up, “Well, good. Because I’m not changing for anyone.”

He grinned, “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

She smiled and took a bite of her meal, closing her eyes to enjoy the food. Again, that was such an Aelin thing to do. He missed her, and wished she’d be here today with them. But if Helia had wanted to come out to both parents at the same time, she would have.

As if she could read his thoughts, Helia said, “I will tell mom when she gets home, I think. I just… wanted you to know first.”

“Thank you, Lia,” he said with sincerity. Then he winced, because he was about ruin this perfectly good moment. “I’m afraid I have to slip back into my fussy father mode.”

Her face paled, “Please don’t.”

“We need rules.”

“No we don’t.”

“Helia,” he gave her his infamous dad look. She sighed in resignation, he took it as a sign to continue. “I cannot forbid you from inviting your friends for sleep-overs,” because the Gods knew that teenagers loved to have sleep-overs. “But I trust you enough that you would tell me which friend is… more. If one of them is. Because rules will change if… If you have a girlfriend.”

She narrowed his eyes at him, “Why do you care? I can’t get pregnant, can I?”

He choked on his mouthful of pasta. “Helia Whitethorn,” he scowled.

She raised her hand in the air in a sign of innocence, “I’m just saying! We don’t need rules.”

He cocked his head to the side, “Straight or bisexual or lesbian I don’t give a shit, Helia. What I care about is that you’re only fifteen, and I think you already have a lot of freeom, don’t you?”

That was true. He and Aelin allowed her to go to parties, told her that if she was drinking within reasons, it was alright, and that if she ended up too drunk or in a dangerous situation she could call them, which she had done with Talia a few weeks prior when they started getting sick. Aelin and he wanted her to experience those things, but he also knew that for Aelin it was hard to give her those liberties without feeling as if she was neglecting Helia. She feared becoming like her own mother and father. He supposed that some wounds from her past would never entirely close.

“You’re right,” she mumbled.

“Alright,” he nodded. “So, do you have anything to tell me?”

A blush spread in her cheeks, and she bit her lip. “Talia and I we’re… I love her, dad.” The look on her face, how bright her eyes shone… She looked in love.

“Oh—” He blinked a couple of time. “Alright, you did manage to surprise me in the end today.”

She snorted, “But don’t worry, we never did anything or… Well, you see. We just kiss. So, don’t get your panties in a twist.”

He tried to hold his wince in, he didn’t wish to know more.

On a more serious note she asked, “Does that mean she won’t be able to come over anymore?”

He took a deep breath, unsure of what to say. “It’s a decision that needs to be taken with your mother. But I suppose that if you promise to respect the house rules, I could bring up the idea of sleepovers under the condition of leaving the door open.”

She nearly jumped out of her seat in excitement, “Thank you, dad! You’re the best!”

He couldn’t truly hold back a smile at that, he tried his best to make his girls happy. He supposed he’d done a pretty good job.

••••••

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