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shadowdaddies · 5 months

Note

My heads empty except for thoughts of Lorcan with a size kink, if you could please right somthing with this,🙏🙏🙏🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

yep I think it's canon our 7 ft tall axe-slingin' Lorcan has size kink👀

So Lorcan Did

Lorcan x Reader smut

warnings: smut below the cut, this is just pwp, size kink, oral f!receiving, p in v sex, maybe breeding kink if you squint

You fumbled for the doorknob, twisting it open as you stumbled backwards through the doorway into your room. Lorcan spun you around, your body pressed tightly between his and the door. You craned your neck - the extent to which you had to bend just to look him in the eyes almost painful - as his massive form towered over you.

Large hands wrapped around the backs of your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as Lorcan pinned you against the wall. It was dizzying, being lifted so high, his hard body enveloping yours as he gripped your hair, tilting your head back to grant himself access to mark your neck.

You gasped, small moans escaping you while you writhed against his firm grip as he held you in place. “Fuck, Lorcan, please touch me,” you begged, your dress suddenly like fire against your skin, begging to be extinguished. He pulled back, black eyes taking in your flushed state.

With a dark chuckle, Lorcan tossed you onto the bed as though you were light as a pillow. The mattress was huge, as though you were swimming in a vast sea - until Lorcan stripped off his shirt and crawled over you. His massive form swallowed the space, suddenly making the bed feel so small as his body well more than covered yours.

Propped up on your elbows, you watched as Lorcan toyed with the hem of your dress, looking up to see him watching you with a smirk. “Let’s take this off, love,” he murmured - you eagerly shifting to help him remove any layers separating the two of you. He took in the sight of your bare breasts, a slight groan escaping him as one hand moved to toy with your nipple, his palm covering your breast and more as he tweaked the sensitive nub.

Gasping, you arched into his touch as you babbled unintelligible requests for more. Switching hands, Lorcan toyed with your other nipple as he brought his mouth down to soothe the bud he’d been teasing. You moaned instinctively, hands moving down to thread in Lorcan’s long black hair.

He pulled away, warm breath fanning over your wet chest as he smirked, tsk’ing as he shook his head. “Hands to yourself until I say otherwise, love,” he whispered, easily grabbing both of your hands in one of his as he pinned them above your head. “Keep those there,” he mumbled against your skin as he continued his path down your stomach.

Lorcan settled above the fabric of your panties, inhaling the strong scent of your arousal as his hand splayed just above the line of fabric that spanned your hips. Your legs clenched as you felt his hand cover your entire stomach, a lewd moan escaping your lips as you looked down, sight confirming what you felt. Lorcan was so much larger than any male you had been with - or even known, for that matter, and you were burning with anticipation.

Slowly dragging your silky panties down your legs, Lorcan paused to admire the wetness that had pooled on the fabric, dark eyes watching you as he licked away the juices. You mewled, toes curling at the sight as you shamelessly begged for Lorcan to move faster. “Oh love, this is as fast as I can go. You’ll need plenty of time to warm up and be stretched out before you can take me.”

With that, Lorcan moved to lick your clit, sucking on the bud as he inserted one finger into you. “Fuck, Lorcan,” you moaned, his one finger making you feel so full already. You started to stress, unsure if you would be able to take him. As if he sensed your nerves, Lorcan pressed a kiss to each of your hips. “It’s okay, love. If you feel any pain, just tell me and we’ll stop.”

You nodded, feeling assured as you encouraged him to continue. Lorcan worked you a little bit longer, curling that one finger against your walls in a way that drew obscene sounds from your dripping pussy. He licked your clit furiously, distracting you as he added another finger. The stretch was glorious, back bowing off the mattress as your mind reeled, already reaching your high. “Let it go, love,” Lorcan spoke against your clit, the vibrations setting you off into an explosive orgasm.

You hadn’t even caught your breath when you felt Lorcan add a third finger, using the fresh wetness from your orgasm to pump into you more easily. The slight burn as he worked you added to your pleasure, tossing your head back and forth on the mattress as you clumsily pushed his head away from your swollen clit. Lorcan chuckled at your movements, pressing a kiss to the bud before removing his fingers, licking them clean as he untied his pants with his other hand.

Your heart pounded as you dared to look at his hard cock, slapping against his stomach as he carefully watched your expression. “One word. If you’re uncomfortable, we stop,” he promised. You nodded, biting your lip as your legs hooked around his waist, drawing him closer to you. Sliding his cock up and down your folds, Lorcan collected as much lubrication as he could before sliding slowly into you.

By the time he bottomed out, you were struggling to breathe - you had never felt so full. Your pussy clenched around him in reaction, and Lorcan hissed at the feeling. “Fuck, angel, if you keep doing that, I won’t last long.” Inwardly, you thought that might be for the best, as you weren’t sure how long you could take him. With a nod of encouragement from you, Lorcan began moving in and out at a gentle pace. He looked down at your body, a loud moan escaping his lips as he watched his thrusts.

You managed to sit up just enough to see the outline of his cock as he entered you - how incredibly full of him you were. You let out a string of curses as Lorcan picked up his pace, his hand sprawled along the place on your stomach it had been earlier, this time forcing you to feel everything. “Gods, you’re so tight,” Lorcan whispered, watching your center tighten around him as his thrusts became more frenzied.

Lorcan licked his thumb, bringing it down to your clit as he rubbed circles, the stimulation sending you over the edge just as you felt his cock twitch inside you, warm release coating your walls as you came together. Lorcan drew out of you slowly, catching his cum before it spilled onto the sheets and shoving it back inside your core. “Clench that tight pussy for me, love. Don’t let this spill.”

You moaned a half-conscious agreement, still in a post-orgasmic haze as Lorcan settled next to you in bed. He pulled your body close to his, and you realized he had officially ruined all other males for you.

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verperina · 3 months

Text

It Was Just For One Night

Pairing: Dorian Havilliard x f!reader

Summary: What was only supposed to be a one-time thing turns into a two-time thing.

Warnings: 18+ smut

Word Count: 5,662

Authors Note: This is my first time writing in a while and my first time writing for Throne of Glass/SJM’s work. I’ve never published anything on here before, so please don’t be too harsh. I hate the dialogue and the smut, but oh well. Massive credit to @autumnshighlady for helping me with the smut and for being so kind.

You feel the faint touch of a phantom hand ghost along the skin of your bare back, leaving goosebumps. You suppress a shudder. You could feel a pair of eyes burning into the side of your face, making your heart beat faster. You raised the glass of red wine to your lips and swallowed a mouthful down, trying to appear calm with your father standing beside you, conversing with another lord. They were talking about something that you had no interest in or care enough to act like you were listening to them.

His eyes were on you. Watching you. Always watching you. You finally let your eyes meet the king’s gaze and they were filled with pure hunger and desire. His sapphire eyes slowly trailed the entire length of your body, taking in the dark navy satin dress that had been gifted to you this morning. You weren’t even aware who had gifted you the dress, but it was obvious now. From the way his lips twitched and the hunger in his eyes became more and more apparent.

It had only been a month since you and Dorian had slept together. A drunken fueled haze that had been filled with pure carnal desire. It was a one-time thing. You knew it would never happen again, but it didn’t mean that you would if it did. He had been a very generous and a very passionate lover. Making sure that you had found release, multiple times, before finding his own. When he finished, he asked if you were okay, dressed himself and left your chambers and that was it. You weren’t expecting anything after. It would be foolish to think so.

You were surprised that the king had chosen you of all people to bed. You had heard that when Dorian was still the prince he was a harlot, so surely it wouldn’t be hard for him to find someone more appealing since he’s the King of Adarlan.

After that night there were times when both of you would be in the same room and you would make yourself never look in his direction, or he would talk to your father about diplomatic matters and rather quickly, you would excuse yourself. You didn’t want anyone to find out. You could only imagine the scandal it would cause.

An older man was talking to Dorian, and the king nodded his head, pretending that he was listening. His crown gleaming in the light, rings decorating his long fingers, dressed exquistely, and seated on his throne full of pride. He was beautiful and he knew it too.

You forced yourself to divert your gaze, focusing instead on the people dancing to the music and the decorations that adorned the room for the Yulemas ball. But you felt it again. That phantom touch. And this time, it wasn’t faint. It felt more apparent. More forceful.

The touch stroked the length of your spine before landing on the curve of your backside, trailing downwards until it reached the back of your thigh, and gave a soft squeeze. You purse your lips as your hand clenches the stem of the wine glass, face warming, and you quickly glance at your father and the other lord, making sure they weren’t paying attention to what was happening, before looking back toward Dorian to see his eyes were still on you. He wasn’t even trying to hide the smug look on his face.

Arrogant prick. You couldn’t believe he was choosing to do this in a room full of people. Especially with your father right next to you. You shot a subtle look at Dorian, but it only seemed to amuse him. He cocked his head to the side, a mocking gesture, daring you to do something. The tension was starting to become too much.

You swallowed.

“I’m going out to the garden for some air,” you said quietly to your father. He waved his hand in dismissal and continued his conversation with the man. You placed your glass down on the nearest table and began weaving your way through the crowds of people, careful to not get anyone’s wine on your dress. You could feel Dorian’s gaze burning through the back of your head, following your every movement.

When you walked outside you inhaled the air, welcoming it into your lungs and letting the cold breeze cool your flushed body. Everything had felt too warm and crowded inside that room. Too overwhelming.

Snow fell from the sky, landing on the ground and kissing it a beautiful white. A few snowflakes landed in your hair. The wind was lightly blowing, making your skin prickle. You pulled a single rose from a bush, careful to not cut your fingers on any of the thorns. The rose was a deep, luscious shade of red with soft petals. You lifted the flower to your nose and inhaled its sweet and floral scent. There was a soft crunch in the snow behind you. Footsteps. You didn’t have to turn around to know who they belonged to.

“That is a very beautiful dress,” Dorian said, his voice smooth. You turned your head to the side and met his gaze. Pure mirth in his stare. His raven black hair shining in the moonlight. “You look rather flustered.”

You kept your face blank, feeling a small hint of annoyance starting to bubble up inside of you. “Are you mad?”

Dorian quirked an eyebrow. “No, ‘Your Majesty’?”

A roll your eyes. “Are you mad, Your Majesty?”

He grinned. “Ask me tomorrow.”

"My father was right there,” you huffed. “He could have seen. Anyone could have seen.”

“Yes, but no one did.”

“I’m not an exhibsionist.”

“I apologize, my lady.” He gave a mocking bow.

“Is this a game to you?” You ask, turning to face him fully.

His brows slightly furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“You had your fun. We both did,” you explained. “It was a one-time thing, so why did you give me this dress and why did you do that in there?”

He was quiet for a moment, studying you, and then asked, “What if I want it to become a two-time thing?”

“Why? What’s in it for you?” You say cautiously. Surely he wasn’t serious.

“I get to enjoy your presence once more,” he answered. “I rather enjoyed myself the last time.”

You try to hide your surprise, but he caught it. You kept your eyes on him, furrowing your eyebrows, and wondered why he wanted to sleep together again, with you, when he could have anyone else. You weren’t completely turned-off to the idea. It would be a lie to say that you hadn’t thought about it.

In the dead of night, you would let your fingers slip inside your wet cunt and fantasize about his hands wrapping around your throat, his teeth tugging on your nipple, and his cock thrusting inside of you. The sound of his groans and your moans, both of your bodies slick with sweat. You felt a flutter low in your stomach. Your throat bobbed.

“We could enjoy each other’s company once more.”

“What if someone finds out?” You cross your arms across your chest. “It would make things difficult for you, but mainly for me.”

“The guards wouldn’t say anything,” he reassured.

You raised an eyebrow. “Surely the presence of your absence has been noted.”

“I announced that I was retiring for the night and told everyone to continue partying.”

“What if someone sees?”

“Everyone is too busy drinking and dancing,” he paused for a moment, looking you up and down, noticing that your body was stiff. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Do you not want to? If not, then it’s fine, I don’t mean to place pressure on you.”

You could tell that Dorian’s words were genuine. His face was soft and patient, waiting for you to respond. “I want to,” I admitted. His eyes became bright at your words. “I just don’t want to complicate things.” He waited for you to continue. “You’re the King of Adarlan; I don’t think people would be pleased to know that you’ve bedded me. I would probably be seen as a woman who tempted the king for money and power, as a whore.”

“It's no one's business what I do, or what you do. I am the king. My guards know to keep their mouths shut, especially the ones that are stationed outside my chambers. If anyone does find out, you can come to me and I’ll deal with it.”

You thought about it for a moment, weighing your options, and glanced around the garden to see that it was still empty. You met his gaze once more and nodded. “Yes.”

“Are you sure?” He asked. His voice came out low, taking a step closer to you.

“Yes.” You licked your lips, and his eyes trailed the movement. You took a step forward, glancing at his lips, tilting your head upwards and parting your lips slightly, giving him permission to kiss you. His hand came to cup your face, his thumb lightly stroking the side of your cheek while his other hand settled on your hip, giving it a hard squeeze.

Your bodies were pressed against each other, and it was then that you could feel the hardness of his cock through his trousers. You leaned your head forward, feeling his breathe as your lips were about to connect-

You jerked back as you let out a low hiss of pain as one of the thorns sliced into the tip of your index finger. A bead of blood pooled at the cut, making your skin sting. Dorian plucked the flower from your hand and brought your finger close to his face, his eyes inspecting the small cut and then he looked at you, a sly look on his face.

“You need to be more careful, dove.” He brought your finger to his lips, pressing light kisses onto the skin slowly, as if savoring the taste of the salt on your skin mixed with your blood. His tongue replaced his lips, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your breath hitched and you could feel wetness start to pool in between your thighs. His teeth harshly nipped at the skin, making a small noise escape your throat. “Dorian,” you moaned quietly. “Please.” Your toes curled. He tossed the rose on the ground, releasing your finger, and brought your lips to his.

His lips were cold but soft, and you ran my hands through his thick hair, your nails lightly scraping his scalp. You swallowed the groan that left his mouth. His hands are roughly squeezing your backside, pushing you closer to him. He tugged your bottom lip between his teeth as you pressed your thighs together to try and relieve some of the aching tension.

“Not here,” you breathed.

He nodded and grabbed your hand, walking both of you out of the garden and through a door that had no one near it, and led the two of you back inside the castle. You had to walk fast to keep up with the strides of his long legs. The halls that he led you through were thankfully empty, not even guards were positioned in the hallway, it looked like any rarely came through this way. He squeezed your hand and brushed his thumb across your knuckles.

The hall to where his chambers came into view and the guards stationed outside didn’t so much as flinch as Dorian neared the door. They only gave a respectful bow to their king, averting their eyes, and pretended to not notice that his hand was interlaced with yours, or that his lips were swollen, and the tanned skin of his cheeks were flushed.

He pushed open the door and led you through his room, quickly closing the door. You stopped in the middle of the room and noticed it was rather untidy; books were open and lying on his desk and the table by the sofa, his bed was unmade, and a few of his clothes were on the floor. But it smelled like him. So much like Dorian.

Your back was facing Dorian, his footsteps sounding closer, the sound of his crown being placed gently on a table, and then he was right behind you. His front pressed against your back, the warmth of his body seeping into you. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear before grabbing your chin, making you meet his gaze, sapphire eyes were blazing. His forehead rested against yours. “I need to hear you say it.”

Your breathing was growing heavier.

“Yes. Please.”

His hand released your chin, moving your head back to its original position and his free hand came to rest on your hip. His hand then wrapped around your throat, squeezing softly, and tilted your head back. Dorian’s lips were brushing the shell of your ear before his teeth tugged on the lobe of your ear, biting gently.

The hand on your waist moved until it was settled right above your pelvis, pushing you back so you could feel his cock. You slightly shifted your hips, grinding your ass on his hardened length, and you were pleased when a low groan left him.

He left a trail of rough kisses down the column of your throat, teeth occasionally nipping and harshly sucking on the flesh, marking you as his. Quiet moans escaping your lips as you let your body lean more into him.

The thin strap of your dress fell down your shoulder, exposing your collarbone. Phantom hands came to cup your breasts through the flimsy material of your dress, squeezing before pinching your peaked nipples, hard.

A hiss left you, arching your back away from his body, but his hand pushed you back against him and held you tightly, and grabbed your face again, placing his lips on yours. The tip of your tongue meeting his own. Heat bloomed in your core. He bit your bottom lip as he removed the dress from your body and let it fall to the floor. You turned around, arms snaking around his neck and pulling at the thick strand of his hair.

Both of his hands grabbed yours as he pulled his lips away from yours, breathing heavily, and guiding you toward his large bed. His cheeks were a flushed red and his once neat hair was messy from you dragging your fingers through it.

You climbed onto the bed and sat up on your knees, grabbing the lapels of his jacket and kissed him again. His hand came to cup the side of your ass, his blunt fingernails lightly scratching before a harsh smack came down, the sound echoing throughout the room.

Your body jolted forward and you let out a loud, breathy moan. You felt yourself becoming more aroused.

“You like how that feels?” Dorian asked. Another harsh smack came down, on the opposite side this time, when you didn’t answer. “I asked you a question.”

“Yes,” you groaned, head tipping back in pleasure.

“I’m going to take good care of you.” The words sounded like a promise.

You tugged off his jacket and let it drop to the floor. You took off his tunic next, revealing the pale line on his tan skin from where the collar had been, and strong, firm muscle. Your hand came to cup his cock through his black trousers. Dorian hissed, eyebrows slightly creasing together in pleasure. You press light kisses on the pale part of his neck, sucking harshly, leaving love bites of your own and running your tongue over the bruised flesh.

He grabbed you by the neck, putting his lips back on yours. His kiss was deliberately slow. Teasing. Savoring the taste of the red wine on your lips. His fingers are pulling at the hair at the nape of your neck. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer, wanting to feel the hardness of his length against your stomach. Fingertips pressing into the curve of your neck as his tongue sweeps over your mouth.

You moan into the kiss, feeling his phantom hands squeezing your ass, tracing the band of your underwear. His fingertips brush over your nipples. They’re cold with his ice magic. You shiver and his mouth curves in delight. The tip of Dorian’s nail grazes the hardened bud before he bends down and takes your nipple in his mouth. Your underwear is sticky with your arousal.

He keeps his eyes on you, watching how your head tips back, how your lips part as you begin moaning breathily. He rolls your other nipple between his thumb and index finger, leaving goosebumps on your skin from the coldness of his flesh. He sucks roughly, moaning around the bud as you pull at his hair, and then he tugs at your nipple with his teeth. His tongue laps over it before he begins sucking again.

“Feels so good,” you mumble, trying to catch your breath. You can feel him grin in satisfaction.

Dorian releases the abused flesh and he starts repeating the same motions on the other nipple, but this time it’s harsher, more animalistic. His hand starts trailing down your stomach and then cups your clothed cunt. A chuckle leaves his lips at what he found. “You’re so wet.”

He dips his hand in your underwear and runs a finger through your folds. You start to slowly move your hips, rubbing your clit on the heel of his palm to relieve the aching tension. “Stay still,” he warns, “or I’ll stop.” You groan in frustration, but comply, hesitantly. He circles the entrance to your hole, gathering the wetness that had pooled there, and then slips a finger inside of you.

Your back arches the same time as you let out a choked moan. You clench around him, fighting the urge to rub your clit against his palm. Painfully slow, in a teasing manner, he thrusts his finger in and out. He takes his time in stretching you out. Your voice is husky as you say, “Kiss me.” You open your eyes to see that he’s already looking at you. Pure desire in his gaze.

“Kiss me,” you repeat again. He obliges. There’s nothing gentle or soft about the kiss. It’s messy and fast and rough. Your teeth are clashing against each other, desperate to taste each other. Your breaths are labored, trying to breathe in more air.

He enters a second finger and when you gasp, he shoves his tongue inside your mouth. You dig your nails into the meat of his shoulders before brushing your thumbs over his nipples.

“Since that night I’ve thought of doing this again,” Dorian admitted. “I fucked myself to the thought of you. Imagining it was you stroking my cock.”

His words made you clench around his fingers. You could picture it. His eyes closed, head leaning back against the pillows, and his hand gripping his cock, squeezing hard. His groans coming out hoarsely, loudly. There was a sense of triumph in knowing that you had made the King of Adarlan fantasize about you. It was satisfying.

“So have I,” you also admitted.

“Tell me,” he demanded.

You swallowed. “I shoved my fingers inside my cunt and wished that it was yours instead. I thought of your tongue on my cunt, of your hand around my throat and your cock inside me.”

Dorian’s fingers thrust faster the same time phantom hands tug at your nipples, a warm feeling blooming low in your stomach. Your moans were coming out in short gasps. “Dorian.” Your fingernails leave marks on his broad shoulders and your head tips back. “I’m so close.” The pressure that had been building was becoming more intense. He whispers words of encouragement and praise.

And with a curl of his fingers you cry out, arching your body into him as your orgasm hits you. Your breath comes out in stutters, your body jerking and your knees trembling. His phantom hands help keep you upright. He coaxes you through it. And when your moans cease, he very slowly removes his fingers from your cunt with a squelching sound.

He brings them to his face, inspecting the wet sheen on them. Dorian smiles. “Look at how soaked you are.” Your arousal coats his entire hand, dripping down to his wrist. And while he keeps his eyes locked on yours, he puts his digits into his mouth and tastes your juices. Your breath hitches. His sapphire eyes darken considerably.

The palm of his hand rests on your collarbone and he gently pushes you until your back is lying on the bed. He reaches forward and rips off the lacy material of your underwear. After tossing them across the room he takes a step back and greedily takes in the sight of you; a thin sheen of sweat is covering your body, your nipples are red and swollen from where he sucked and bit on them, and your cunt is dripping wet.

“I need you,” your voice snaps Dorian out of his daze.

He starts to undo the button of trousers and pushes them down, removing his undershorts also. He steps out of them quickly and tosses them aside, and his cock slaps against his abdomen hard. You take in the sight; the fine patch of dark hair, the tip of his cock is red and leaking with his arousal.

You lick your lips, desperate to have his cock in your mouth. The previous time you fucked each other, you only briefly got to lick him, and you had forgotten what he’d tasted like.

He wraps a hand around his cock, giving it a firm stroke. He hisses. “You see what you do to me?”

Dorian walks forward, kneels on the bed and uses his phantom hands to restrain your wrists to the mattress. He lowers himself between your legs and an almost pained look crosses his features as he stares at your core, wet and gleaming for him.

It was a slow torture, him slowly kissing the inside of your thighs, nipping at skin and leaving love bites. His thumbs draw circles into your hips, and you keep squirming, wanting his tongue on your most sensitive part, but he seemed keen on the idea to tease you.

“Dorian,” you rasped. He would continue teasing until you begged for it. It’s what he wanted. You held his gaze and watched as he waited, a grin was on his face, but you could see his body trembling with restraint to keep himself from ravishing you. “Please.”

He cocks his head to the side, mockingly, and his grin is feline. “Because you asked nicely. . .”

Dorian took a long, languid lick up the center of your core. You let out a moan in relief and your eyes fluttered shut, enjoying the feeling of his tongue sliding up and down you, tasting you thoroughly. He peppers kisses along your cunt before he starts licking again.

One of his hands comes up to pinch your nipple and you buck your hips against his face, but he throws an arm across your waist to keep you still. He wraps his lips directly around your clit and you cry out as he starts sucking the sensitive nub. You struggle against the phantom hands that bound your wrists. You want to run your fingers through his hair grind against his face.

Grabbing your thighs, Dorian drapes them over his shoulders to hold you closer and keeps his eyes pinned to your face. He wanted to watch you come on his tongue. He pumps his fingers in and out of you, curling ever so slightly.

“Right there,” you gasp.

You watch as he presses his hips hard against the mattress and begins rutting against it, a soft groan leaving him and it vibrates through your core.

You try to free your hands from his magic, but it doesn’t budge. “Let me touch you.” You look at him with pleading eyes. “Please, let me touch you.” Finally, those phantom hands release their grip on you.

Your body writhes and your fingers rake through his black hair to push him closer, nails scratching along his scalp. Your cries of pleasure encourage him to keep going. His teeth scraping your clit is what makes you climax. His fingers quicken their pace, tongue moving faster, letting you ride out your high.

It leaves you trembling with needing more, but Dorian removes his tongue and fingers from you and leans back on his knees. His eyes linger on your abused cunt before he looks at you and you stare at him, too. Blue eyes full of adoration. His hair was in disarray, cheeks a pretty shade of pink, and his chin and lips were coated with your arousal but he didn’t seem to care.

He looked devastating.

You barely had time to catch your breath before he grabbed you by the hips and turned you around so you were on your knees, ass in the air, and the side of your face was pressed against the sheets. His hand left a hard smack across your ass cheek making a yelp escape your lips. Dorian’s hands once again grab your hips to bring you close to his face, and his fingers tease your entrance, and you arch your back, urging him to bring you another orgasm again.

He laughed teasingly. “So eager, dove.”

He sticks his tongue inside of your cunt and your entire body shudders. He moans, as if this is pleasuring him just as much as it is you. The taste of you was going to haunt him after this was over. The essence of you would haunt him.

He presses his fingers inside your leaking hole and the pace is fast, desperate to draw a third orgasm from you. Dorian wanted you to come again, and again, and again. He needed you to come again.

Another harsh slap to your ass has you moaning out his name. Your hands clutch the sheets tightly and you rock your hips against his face, and unlike last time, he doesn’t try to make you stay still. He lets you grind yourself on his face and makes his phantom hands rock your hips to move them faster. The tips of his fingers would leave bruises from how hard their grip was.

Lewd noises were coming out of his mouth and your face warmed from the sounds.

Your body trembles as he flicks his tongue against your clit repeatedly and you feel yourself come again. A loud cry echoing against the walls of his room. He hums against your cunt, letting the vibrations further stimulate you. It isn’t until your whimpering that he finally relents. You’re panting, strands of hair clinging to your forehead, and your knees give out beneath you.

“You’re doing so good for me,” Dorian praised. He presses a kiss against your spine. And then another. His hand rubbing your red backside from the slaps he gave. His ice magic soothing the tender skin.

“Dorian,” you mumble.

“Are you okay?” He asks, running a strong hand down the length of your spine gently. Your skin prickles.

You manage a weak nod.

“Use your words.”

“Yes,” you murmur. Your eyelids were heavy and the perspiration felt sticky on the nape of your neck.

He helps turn you around so you’re laying on your back. You drink in the sight of him and he does the same. Dorian’s lips were shining with your arousal and his cock looked painfully hard. You wanted to kiss him. You reached out a trembling hand, and he eyed it before taking hold of it and leaning over you, bracing his body weight on his elbows. His nose brushes yours softly.

“Kiss me,” you breathe. He brought his mouth to yours. You could taste yourself on his tongue. You were both frantic and desperate, and didn’t want to pull your mouths apart from each other.

You cup his face, rubbing your thumb along the sharp cheekbone as your other hand played with the strands of his hair. His body was trembling and whatever self-control he had left was slipping away.

You reach a hand down, gripping his length and give it a lazy stroke. He makes a soft noise at the touch, slowly moving his hips as you start pressing kisses onto his collarbones. His forehead resting on top of yours, eyes closed and savoring the moment. You run your thumb over the slit, gathering moisture before giving a gentle squeeze that makes a low growl leave Dorian. That last bit of self-control was completely gone.

He takes his cock and lines the head of it up with your cunt and in one motion, he fully sheaths himself inside of you. A sigh of contentment leaves the pair of you. His pace starts off slow, languid. Your hips roll against his, trying to find a rhythm that matches. His hands roam over the sides of your body before landing on your plush hips. Fingertips digging into your flesh.

“Tell me how you feel.” He licked the side of your throat.

“Good,” you pant. “So good.”

“You like me being inside you?” His tone was teasing, mocking, but you could hear how gravelly he sounded.

“Yes.”

He presses kisses to your lips, your neck, your collarbones, the swell of your breasts. Tongue flicking over both nipples. Your legs lock around his trim waist, bringing him closer to you and you clench tightly around him, and his hips jerk, drawing two mirrored moans of pleasure from you both. Your head tips back in bliss and your entire body is buzzing from pleasure.

Dorian’s eyes were a shade of blue so dark they looked like the freezing cold waters of the sea. He moans out your name like a prayer and dips down to kiss you again, as if one isn’t enough. Your hands run up and down his chest, the tip of your nail scraping his nipple. His thrusts were becoming rougher, deeper, more punishing than before. Your breasts bouncing with every snap of his hips.

One of his phantom hands started rubbing your clit and a low pressure was beginning to bloom in your belly, making a breathy gasp leave you. The walls of your cunt start contracting. Hot, heavy, open-mouthed kisses leave a thin string of saliva connecting your lips. It was messy. Both of you were moaning into each other’s mouth. Both of you sounded so needy.

Dorian buried his face into the crook of your neck. A cry left your lips as his teeth bit down on your skin. His thrusts were brutal, each one bringing you closer to the edge, hips snapping into yours hard enough that the headboard was banging against the wall. He obviously didn’t care if someone heard. And neither did you. The fingers on your clit were moving faster and your body was shaking. “Please, please, please. . .”

That familiar coil settled in your lower abdomen snaps. Your back arching off the bed as you come, the walls of your cunt clenching around him rhythmically, and you bury your forehead into the crook of his neck. Nails leaving red marks on his shoulders and down his back, and toes curling from the overstimulation.

Dorian fucks you through it, and his groans are growing louder and his thrusts harsher; he was going to come. He breathes out a desperate, pleading noise, leaning down until his forehead is pressed against yours. He fucks into you harder. The sound of skin-on-skin reverberating through the room. You give him words of encouragement, pressing quick kisses to his lips.

He comes with a deep, guttural groan. His hips stuttering. And you feel his seed spill into you as he rides out his high, fingertips gripping your hips so tight bruises would probably appear. His thrusts start to slow down before eventually stopping, and he pauses for a moment, panting heavily, before collapsing on top of you, unable to hold himself up any longer.

You brush back the damp strands of hair that cling to his forehead. Both of your bodies are shaking and slick with sweat. His breath tickles your skin.

There were no noises in the room anymore save for the sounds of both of you gasping for air, but it didn’t feel awkward or uncomfortable. Dorian’s fingers loosened their tight grip on your hips and rubbed the flesh tenderly. A sigh of contentment left you. A passionate and generous lover indeed.

You could feel him start to grow restless. You unlocked your legs from around his waist and he gently pulled out from you with an almost inaudible hiss, and rolled onto his back right beside you, trying to catch his breath. The air in the room grew cold, his magic cooling the both of you off.

Your limbs felt heavy and you could feel his seed spilling out from you. You closed your eyes for a moment, still feeling the tingling sensation all over your body. Deep down you knew that no one would ever fuck you as good as Dorian just had. You didn’t know if this would happen again or if people would find out that you had fucked their king.

A small part of you inside felt sad knowing that you would be staying at the castle for only one more month before leaving to go back to your city. But you knew it was just sex. You didn’t expect anything more. It would be foolish to.

You could feel Dorian’s eyes burning into the side of your head, his lips parting, “Perhaps we should do this again.” The words were spoken nonchalantly, but you picked up on the tinge of nervousness. “Make it a three-time thing.”

You lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug, making yourself appear calm, and felt a grin tugging at your lips. “Maybe.”

#dorian havilliard #dorian havilliard x reader #dorian havilliard x you #throne of glass #sarah j maas #sjmaas #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass fic #throne of glass fandom #tog #crown of midnight #heir of fire #queen of shadows #empire of storms #kingdom of ash #sjm fandom #maasverse #dorian havilliard smut

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danikamariewrites · 4 months

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hi there, can you write something fluffy for fenrys??

Book Delivery

Fenrys x reader

A/n: I haven't written for Fen in so long and he's literally one of my favs from ToG. He deserves happiness after everything he's been through

Warnings: none

Fenrys watched from the balcony as Aelin walked you through the castle gates. He lets out a dreamy sigh as you throw your head back from laughing at something the queen said. Fenrys was so lost in his little fantasy land he missed Rowan come to stand next to him.

“You feeling ok?” Fenrys jumps, backing away from the railing and clutching at his heart. “Good gods! Don’t do that Rowan!” The king couldn’t help the shit eating grin that spread across his lips. Rowan looks out at your retreating figure as you leisurely walk back to town. “Aelin thinks you two would make a great match.”

Fenrys lets out an annoyed huff, taking his piercing gaze off of Rowan and watching you again. He was always so charming and smooth when it came to talking to females. For some reason when he tried speaking to you Fenrys always made a fool of himself. He either tripped over air or fumbled with his words before excusing himself. There was no other way to say it, Fenrys is in love with you.

How could he not be? You’re so kind and intelligent and beautiful. Fenrys can’t help but feel butterflies in his stomach when you’re around.

A week later - on the day you usually visit, Fenrys noted - Aelin called him into her office. Striding through the open door Fenrys stopped before her desk, sketching a bow before standing with his hands behind his back. “What can I do for you?” Aelin gave him a smile that told Fenrys she was scheming. Fenrys mentally rolled his eyes, waiting for Aelin to tell her plan.

“I need you to do me a favor.” She said sweetly. “Nothing crazy, just an errand that I can’t get to today.” Fenrys nodded. “What kind of errand?” The queen’s smile became toothy and far too happy looking for his liking. “Can you go to y/n’s store for me and pick up the book she set aside for me?”

Fenrys felt his heart stutter in his chest. He had never been to your store. He had avoided it at all costs after the second time he made a fool of himself in front of you. “Erm…” He had to answer quickly before Aelin turned this into a command and he no choice. Not like he had one anyway. If Aelin already thought you two were a match the whole court must know by now. And Fenrys would never hear the end of it from Lysandra if he never made a move.

“Yes.” He blurts out. “Excellent.” Aelin claps her hands in approval and stands to guide Fenrys from her office. “And no rush whatsoever. Take your time, enjoy a stroll through the city. Get some tea with someone. But don’t come back here without my book.” She said sternly before shutting the door on him.

Upon entering the bustling city Fenrys found himself taking the long way to your shop. Inevitably he found himself standing outside your shop, dreading how he would mess up this conversation with you. Inhaling deeply through his nose and out through his mouth, Fenrys pushed open the door to your shop.

The bell ringing above his head caught your attention immediately. You rushed to the front of the store, your arms full of books. Your eyes widen in surprise at the tall male in the middle of your small book store. “Hi,” you say cheerily, “Fenrys, right?” It took all of his training to keep calm. To keep the butterflies from swarming his insides.

“Y-yes. Yup, that’s me.” Dear gods he hoped Lorcan would show up and stab him.

Then you did something unexpected. You giggled at him. It wasn’t a pity laugh, you genuinely giggled. Fenrys smiled at you. Realizing you looked like you were about to drop the stack of books in your arms Fenrys cleared the space between you, reaching his hands out to help. “Can I take these for you?” “Oh, yes. That would be great, thank you.”

As you handed over half the stack Fenrys noticed your hands were shaking. If it was because of him he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. The last thing he wanted to do was scare you. You cleared your throat before speaking again. “Can you put them on the front counter?” “Of course.” You give him a small nod and lead him to the counter.

After putting the books down you nervously fiddled with your hair, glancing at Fenrys every other second. You felt like you always messed up when you spoke to him. That awkward laugh would always leave your lips and you always forgot where you were going when you bumped into him in the castle.

Clearing your throat you finally look make eye contact. Maybe that’s too much eye contact, you think to yourself. Fenrys isn’t shying away though. If anything he’s looking at you with the same shy, unsure intensity.

An awkward moment of silence passes between the two of you before Fenrys finally remembers why he’s here. “Aelin sent me to pick up her book. She said you had it set aside for her.”

The realization clicked in your eyes and your cheeks redden. It was silly to think he was there for you. Pulling the book from the shelf behind you and turning back to Fenrys you give him a small smile, hoping it didn’t look as sad as you felt. “Here you go.” His fingers brushed against yours. You felt a warmth rush through your body at the soft touch.

Your cheeks heat even more as you bite back your smile. Fenrys takes the book giving you a reassuring smile. “Thanks,” he says softly. “You’re welcome.” He nods and turns to leave. Fenrys cringes at himself, squeezing his eyes shut.

He stopped with his hand on the door, thinking screw it. Marching back up to the counter Fenrys takes a deep breath. You look up at him with bright curiosity in your eyes. “Would you like to go out to dinner with me?”

You nod your head excitedly. “I would love that. Is tomorrow night ok?” “Absolutely.” You give him a bright smile. Taking out a pen and paper you write down your address for him. He takes it happily and practically skips out of your store back to the castle.

#throne of glass imagine #throne of glass #throne of glass fic #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass fanfic #Fenrys moonbeam #Fenrys throne of glass #fenrys moonbeam x you #fenrys moonbeam x reader #fenrys x reader #fenrys x you #fenrys fluff #throne of glass fenrys

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shadowhandss60 · 22 days

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Chaol: “What?! Murder?!”

Dorian: “What murdaaaaa?”

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saphirered · 7 months

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I have a request! I am in desperate need of anything for fenrys X reader 😩 I love a good enemies to lovers Trope 😏 (but you can do what you want!!)

It's been a while so why not kick off with a 3 part story. 1.5k each sound good? Here's the first part. Enemies comes first so expect some angst and canon typical violence. Happy reading! 😘

When he took the oath he followed his twin because they stood together. They’d remain together no matter what. Fenrys, though blinded by all that glory had to offer, was not entirely disillusioned with the strings that came attached even if he tried to desperately ignore them until he couldn’t. Things got worse of course. The further he strayed, the tighter the leash. He told himself it was simply a price to pay; one where his brother would be safe, where he could live his life freely some of the time and live gloriously. Was it worth it? He used to think so. Though what frustrated him is that no matter what, there would always be this thorn in his side, the true pearl in Maeve’s collection of empty shells. You. Maeve might lack the ability to love and truly care for anyone but herself but when it came to you there was a weird sense of possessiveness. The Cadre might have been the prized bloodhounds and guard dogs, but you were something different entirely. You were her songbird; to sing at her command, to be shown off as a prized possession and put on display for all to see. What made Fenrys hate you is that you seemed o bask in the glow of it all.

You stood at Maeve’s side always. You never had the need to warp her words to take some illusion of freedom, to escape her clutches for a moment longer before the leash pulled you in. There was no leash on you. Maeve never had you swear the oath. You were just there, you could walk out of Doranelle but you chose to stay at her side. You stood there with your head held high. You needed not fear the strike of a whip. No rope would wrap around your neck and choke the air out of your lungs for a misspoken word. There was no reason for you to follow her commands other than loyalty. Your loyalty had to be a choice because you’d seen it all, you stood there and watched the bloodshed and torture and pain inflicted upon others. You did not even turn your head when faced with the horrors. You simply stared with cold indifference.

What Fenrys didn’t know was you might not be on that same leash as him, you are caged either way. Maeve took great pleasure in the fact she did not need to have you swear the blood oath. No what she had on you would be more than enough to keep you from rebelling, from stepping even one toe out of line. You had been there before Fenrys so he had not witnessed the torture you endured; that if you looked away from the bloodcurdling screams, from the pleading and begging and met them with anything other than indifference at best or cruelty of your own at worst, you would be offered the same punishment as them. You were a prisoner and no amount of torture had you spill the secrets you kept. It was an eternal stalemate. Torturing and killing loved ones, that simply wouldn’t do. You’d die with them and you’d be useless, but keeping you around even if she would have to wait centuries for you to finally break and spill, not only was she patient but she took great pleasure in it all; in what you’d become.

While the cadre was sent out to fight wars and bask in the glory of bloodshed, your dalliances with the upper class of nations were no secret. When those nations failed to submit to Maeve’s wishes, you’d swoop in and convince them otherwise. When rebellion arose, you’d be the face trying to quell and snuff the flames before they could spark. You’d use your charm and body to entice and bring the most favourable outcome for Maeve. At some point Fenrys considered you might have been as in love with her as Lorcan and you’re simply wrapped around her finger. He hated you for the special treatment you got. He hated how okay you were with everything you faced, how you presented yourself like you were better than them. He hated that in Maeve’s eyes you could do no wrong and they’d be sent to clean up the mess where your persuasions and deception failed where they got tortured for setting one foot out of line. So he would make you pay in his own way. Of course he would not dare lay a hand on you, especially unprovoked, be that out of fear for Maeve or simply because it felt wrong, there is plenty of ways to press someone’s buttons and he just happens to be very good at it. That’s exactly what he spent the next century or so doing.

What a blessing it was to have you be sent along on a mission. There was no escape for you, and no one to truly punish him for his awful behaviour. If you were to be his warden then he would make that a living hell for you. He’d done so successfully that now you sent Gavriel with him in your stead to negotiate with the Pirate Lord. He’d watched you burn from within but then you’d take that frustrating breath and all emotion would ebb away. Your pretty face would turn ever so cold once more and thus with it the small spark of satisfaction on his end died away. He submitted to your command either way. He had to. Maeve’s orders.

When he returned he saw you on that couch, head bowed forward, hands in your hair. If he dared be so bold, he would have sworn he saw the light tremble to your body but it instantly disappeared upon his arrival.

“Why so glum, sunshine?” He decided to gracelessly drop himself onto the couch opposite of you. You brush your hair from your face and look up, once again eyes deadly cold, though right now there’s an exhaustion haunting your entire being he cannot quite place.

“I’m not in the mood for your teasings, Fenrys.” You struggle to keep the inner turmoil from your voice. You have to be strong. You have to be thick-skinned. You have to keep taking the blows. Not like you don’t deserve them. Now more than ever must your resilience last.

“You never are. Now are you going to tell me who pissed in your soup? I’d like to personally thank them for getting you to show even an ounce of discomfort and might want to ask for some pointers on how to wear you out like that. You keep refusing my other advances after all. I’d say exhaustion suits you but…” You can’t do this. You’re hanging on by a silken thread and it’s about to snap. You rise to your feet and make for the door but just before you reach he is blocking your way. You try to get around him but he holds you back.

Fenrys is too caught up in his own mind to realise you flinch at his touch, how you pull away. He misses that paranoia and drop of remorse blinking through you. He’s too focused on making your life hell and right now you’re making it very easy for him. You’re not one to run away but rarely there is no one else to tell him off, to face him with the consequences and remind him of his stupidity. He’s had his toes stepped on already. He’ll take great pleasure in playing this eternal game with you. He might not be able to get to Maeve to get recompense, but he sure as hell can take those grievances out on you.

“Fenrys let me go.” You demand. Your breath is high in your chest as he holds onto your shoulders. You shake him off and step out of reach but still he stands between you and your escape to the outside.

“Or what? You’ll tattle on me to Maeve?” He mocks. You can clearly see that frustration burn beneath his skin and he has every reason to be frustrated. You’ve stood by for decades. You were perfectly fine letting his brother suffer, letting him suffer if it meant you kept the strings in hand. If it takes being cruel then so be it. You’ll be cruel. You’ll strike where it hurts. Your words are much sharper than your claws and they cut far deeper. He was not prepared for what you said next. He did not count on his impulsiveness to be so crippling to his better judgement.

“If I do we both know you won’t be the ones to suffer at her hand for it.” That’s it. Fenrys snaps. Next he knows you’re against the wall and his hand grabs your throat. You struggle to breath from the crushing force and claw at his hand to no avail. No, you weren’t truly trying. He sees it now; acceptance, relief even. In that very moment you are prepared to meet your end. He wouldn’t have done it of course, he might be stupid but he’s not outright suicidal but you didn’t know that. It’s the first time he’s truly seen you break. He has half the mind to wonder; never has he seen you break, so what has gotten you to do so now? He noticed the crack in your perfectly crafted armour. It took him a while before he realised there were many more.

“Lay a hand on Connall and I will personally repay you in kind. With interest.” He lets go and air enters your lungs once more. You wobble on unsteady feet as he exits through that door and leaves you alone with your thoughts. Once you are sure he’s truly gone you simply drop to the ground, hug your knees and stare into the abyss. You’d ran out of tears a long time ago.

#throne of glass x reader #throne of glass #fenrys x reader #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass imagine #throne of glass fic #throne of glass fenrys #fenrys moonbeam #tog x reader #kingdom of ash #tog fanfic

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rowaelinsdaughter · 5 months

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Hii... Dorian x reader please? When Aelin and her court and Manon are in Adarlan and she feels insecure about them and doesn't want to meet them (maybe because she's just a human and thinks she's not good as them) so she makes excuses to stay in her room and Dorian finds out?

my present

a/n; thank u anon for this!!! hope youre okay. love u.

WARNINGS; insecurity, bad thoughts, angst(?) to fluff

you met dorian after the war.

the psychological wounds caused by this and by everything that happened before were still present, but it was no impediment for you since you took care of him and were with him in the moments where he needed someone the most.

of course, you knew that dorian was with manon, the queen of witches and one of the most beautiful women there was... although you had never seen her, just as you had never seen aelin ashryver galathynius, the queen of terrasen. but as dorian had told you, they were both among the most beautiful immortals there were... and they would be here in a week.

ever since dorian told you that manon and aelin and their court were going to come to adarlan, you couldn't stop thinking about how ridiculous you felt. anxiety and negative thoughts became recurrent throughout the week. you didn't want to meet them so as not to make dorian look ridiculous. if they really were as beautiful as they said and one of them was even with him... you didn't want to think about that.

different scenarios haunted you in dreams. them laughing at you, aelin's court looking at you up and down like you were a weirdo... dorian being ashamed of you after introducing you. that was your worst nightmare.

from your window you see how aelin's entourage arrived on horseback. she and rowan at the head and her court behind. god she was beautiful, more than you had imagined. a soft flutter reaches you and in the distance you see a shadow approaching... no, not a shadow. wyverns. getting closer and closer, you make out manon's white hair. when it lands, you feel your hands start to shake and a lump forms in your throat. people said they were beautiful, but it wasn't anywhere close. they were devastating. goddesses. you can't leave the room. you can't make a fool of yourself.

you hear a knock on the door and you turn in time to see dorian enter. his well-combed hair contrasts with the gold of his crown and his navy blue suit hugs every part of his body, creating a second skin. beautiful.

dorian smiles when he sees that you have been looking at him without blinking. “i already know I'm beautiful, you don't need to keep looking at me.”

you look away quickly and a blush appears on your cheeks. "sorry"

dorian frowns. “are you still not dressed? i thought you would be ready.”

“ah yes, I just don't feel very well”

dorian approaches you worried. "oh really? do you need me to call someone? do you need a healer to look at you?”

“no no no, don't worry dorian, i just have a headache.”

"sure?"

“yes dorian, i'm sure. go on, go with them.”

he leaves a kiss on your forehead and, not very convinced, leaves. you don't know when you've stopped breathing, but you let out a sigh and go to bed.

what you don't know is that dorian had noticed you strange ever since he said manon and aelin were coming, and this was what he needed to confirm what he suspected. you were insecure

the afternoon passed and you were still in the room. at that moment you were reading a book from your bookshelf.

the door opens and dorian appears with a dress in his hands, some shoes and a crown.

you swallow, putting the book aside to sit up.

“i brought you this so you can wear it.”

you open your mouth to answer but dorian takes your hand and brings it to his lips, sitting next to you on the bed.

“you don't have to lie to me, you know? and you don't have to stay here either. i love you, you know? you are the most beautiful person i have ever seen in my entire life. you don't have to have the best hair, you don't have to look like a goddess because i love you just the way you are. i adore your lips, your freckles, i adore the way your eyes shine every time you read a scene that you love. i adore the softness of your hands every time you hold my hand. i adore you just the way you are.”

dorian wipes a tear from your cheek as he caresses it and rests his hand on it.

“i don't want you to change, and i don't want you to think that i'm going to leave you alone because i was with manon. that's the past. and i want my present”

“what is your present?”

"my present is you"

you throw yourself into his arms and feel dorian's arms surround your figure. you hide your face in his neck breathing in his scent.

“and now i want you to get up, put on the dress i brought you and go out with your head held high.”

“i love you dorian.”

“i love you too, doll.”

#sarah j maas #sjm books #fanfic #throne of glass #throne of glass imagine #throne of glass fanfiction #dorian havilliard x reader #dorian fluff #dorian fanfic #dorian havilliard #tog fluff #tog x reader #angst to comfort #angst to fluff #throne of glass fic

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highqueenofelfhame · 11 months

Text

a/n: i'm so sorry this one took so long to get out. it's very dialogue heavy and i struggle with dialogue and it was a tough one. i hope it was worth the wait.

rowaelin // 5k words // ciwyw masterlist // masterlist

The sun was barely above the horizon, and Aelin was already awake. Nothing but her ceiling fan and Rowan’s deep, even breathing filled the room around them as she reached for her phone and began mindlessly scrolling on social media.

Cocooned within his arms and surrounded by his scent, her nausea hadn’t been what kept her awake. It was just after eight and her body was so used to waking up for work that it refused to let her drift back into a land of sweet dreams. At least Rowan was still snoozing. He needed it as much as she did.

Upon opening twitter, she opened trending topics to see what juicy gossip was making the rounds today. A few politicians were popular for no good reason, and a handful of celebrities were having their looks celebrated per usual. Third from the bottom, however, she stopped and stared.

ROWAN WHITETHORN

His name glared at her in all capital letters, a bit of text beneath it reading: trending with Aelin Galathynius and Aedion Ashryver

Oh, gods.

The trending tag was bombarded with articles from tabloids and fan tweets, the same few pictures circulating along with them. The photo of Rowan with the little boy at dinner was the main one, but she quickly understood why her name was attached when she saw the others.

All of them were grainy, but Rowan and Aelin were no less identifiable. His arm was around the back of her chair in each picture. One he was leaning toward her and saying something in her ear. She could easily imagine that it was him asking if she was okay for the thousandth time. In another, she was pointing at Aedion with a fork, laughter dancing in her eyes while she gazed at Rowan, lips parted around words.

Aelin looked down at the tattooed arm draped over her side and the hand that rested on her stomach. There was no way for her to know how he would react to this, especially not so early in the morning. It was starting to settle over her heavily as her phone began buzzing in her palm.

MOM flashed on her screen, a picture of her and her mother from Yulemas last year bright in her face. Aelin sighed and began extricating herself from Rowan, lifting his arm and rolling out from beneath him. It would be quicker to just move over his body in order to avoid missing her mom’s call so she began crawling over him.

So abruptly it startled a squeal from deep in her chest, Rowan launched into a sitting position just as her toes hit the ground. With his eyes still closed as he asked, a little too loudly, “Are we sick?”

The commotion had her phone slipping from her hands and careening toward the ground. With reflexes no human man should possess, Rowan’s leg darted beneath the blanket and somehow managed to catch the phone with his foot before it shattered on the floor. Aelin gaped at him as he picked it up and handed it to her. His godsdamn eyes were only cracked open, what the f—

“Hi, Mom. One second.” She sandwiched the phone between her ear and shoulder, ignoring the huffy sigh from her mother. “I’m fine, spiderman. Go back to sleep.”

“I’m up,” he argued, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. Despite his words, Rowan was very much not awake. Squinty green eyes took in every inch of her body as she stood up and started walking backward to the door. She was still gawking at him as he followed after her and rubbed at his face.

“Seriously, how did you do that?” A sleepy smile formed on his face and Mala above, she wanted to kiss it until it was a full blown grin.

“It’s kind of my job, love,” he teased.

“That doesn’t happen to be Rowan Whitethorn, does it, love?” Evalin drawled, clearly having heard what Rowan called her. That little pet name that tied her veins into pretty ribbons to make her heart pound against her bones.

Shit. She was in deep fucking shit.

“Yes. Yes, that is Rowan Whitethorn.” Aelin replied, Rowan towering over her as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pressed his lips to the top of her head. It was so short and sweet that she almost wondered if it had really happened as he slipped past her and padded into the kitchen.

“And when were you going to tell me about this?” Her mother demanded. Aelin could vividly picture her pacing with one hand on her hip and the other whipping sharply through the air as she spoke.

“Technically, I did tell you.”

“You told me you were sleeping with someone. There was no indication about who it was.” The name had been left out, sure, but she had only known him as Rowan and, at the time, it was entirely too soon to tell her mother all the details.

“I mean, we were? Rowan and I are in a… situationship.” The man in question turned to look at her, eyebrows disappearing into his hairline. Aelin grimaced.

“What the hell does that even mean?!” Evalin cried.

“Did I just get demoted?” Rowan turned and looked at her, eyebrows disappearing into his hairline. Aelin shook her head at him while biting back a laugh.

“We’re seeing each other. We’re dating. He’s my boyfriend. Right?” She looked at Rowan amidst her rising panic over her mothers frantic, betrayed voice. He walked over, placing a glass of water in front of her, and leaned against the counter. Two fingers swept hair behind her ears and ran down the side of her neck. Something about his touch was a cooling balm to her nerves. “He’s my boyfriend. It’s just… it’s complicated. I was going to tell you—”

“What, when you got married?! I found out from news articles and your father getting questions about it this morning, Aelin.”

“I was going to call you this morning after everyone woke up because like I said, it’s complicated.”

“Don’t tell me you already eloped.” Rowan was grinning while he eavesdropped. Aelin reached out and punched his stomach only to be met with rock hard muscle.

“No! Gods above, Mama. No. Not— fucking hell this is worse than I thought it would be,” she grumbled, forehead thumping against her boyfriend’s chest. Rowan’s hand stroked over the back of her head sympathetically. “Can we switch to video? This is too much to do over the phone while I can’t see your face.”

The frustration in her words was evident when her voice cracked. When her mom accepted the video call, her features were soft. If she had been in Varese with her, Aelin knew her mother’s fingers would be stroking her hair to calm her down, the same way Rowan was now threading his fingers through the golden strands.

“Can you please put a shirt on before I put you in frame?” She asked, watery eyes turning onto his face.

“I’m a bit more worried about you than I am about clothing right now, love.”

“You can’t meet my mom like this.” Rowan’s eyes traced her face and body long enough that she sighed. “I’ll be fine for the thirty seconds it takes you to get there and back.”

“Baby,” her mother cut in, worry clouding her features. Aelin looked away from Rowan as he jogged across the apartment. “You’re scaring me.”

“Because I’m scared. Of everything and your reaction and what Dad is going to say and— all of it is scary.” The worst part was that she wasn’t even entirely sure why she was crying. On a normal day, hard conversations were difficult, of course, but nothing she had ever cried over. Her parent’s gave her unconditional love. There wasn’t a worry in her mind that she would ever cease to be the center of their entire world. These hormones were going to kill her.

When Rowan came back, he picked up her water and pulled on her hand until she stood, leading her toward the couch. Evalin was quiet and patient while he got her tucked in with a blanket and settled beside her. His face held no judgment as he brushed tears from her cheeks.

“Everything’s okay,” he promised her, pointer finger bumping beneath her chin. Aelin smiled a little and shook her head before arranging her phone so her mom could see him.

“Mama, this is Rowan. Rowan, this is my Mom, Evalin.”

“It’s good to finally meet you, Mrs—”

“You’ll call me Evalin,” she interrupted with the wave of her hand. Rowan smiled and nodded once before looking back at Aelin.

“It’s good to meet you, Evalin,” he repeated, trying her name out for the first time. Aelin’s mother beamed and the anxiety that was creeping and crawling over her nerves paused for the time being.

“Is Dad around?”

“Right here, Fireheart,” Rhoe slid into view, immediately frowning when he took in her tear streaked face.

“Before you start, I’m not crying because of Rowan. I mean, technically I am, but it’s not anything bad. Rowan, my father Rhoe, Dad, I’m sure you already know him, but this is my boyfriend Rowan Whitethorn.”

“We’ve met a few times actually,” Rowan chimed in, lifting a hand in greeting. “It’s nice to see you, sir.”

“You too, son.” So far, so good. Both of her parents were smiling and Rowan was a steadying weight beside her. Somehow he felt more at ease than she did. Aelin just had to get the next part out without falling apart. A deep and almost cleansing breath filled her lungs as she looked up at the ceiling to keep the tears from rolling down her cheeks. Gods, this was ridiculous.

“We um…” Aelin exhaled and looked at Rowan who nodded encouragingly. “I want to start off by saying that this is still really new. Our relationship and everything attached to it is really new. And I really was planning to call you today. I decided on that well before the news broke this morning.”

“Sweetheart. Just say it,” her mother said, giving Aelin a knowing look. Of course Evalin had it figured out before she had even tried to search her brain for a coherent sentence. Hell, she had probably known the entire time.

“We’re having a baby.” Aelin’s lip quivered, and Rowan reached over to lace their fingers with the hand that wasn’t around her shoulders. She sunk into him, resting her head on his shoulder while gnawing on her lip.

“Not planned, I take it,” her father tried to joke, and despite the tears that had sprung free, Aelin laughed.

“No. Definitely not planned but not a bad thing either.”

“I knew it as soon as you spit out that piece of candy a few weeks ago.” Evalin beamed, dabbing at her eyes with the pocket square she had stolen from Rhoe’s suit. “Are you happy?”

“Yes. Scared as hell, but I’m happy. Are…” Aelin looked at Rowan, “You’re happy, yeah? Now isn’t the time to ask but we haven’t really addressed that.”

“I’m very happy,” he promised, leaning in to kiss her temple. Aelin let out a shaky breath and laughed again, rubbing at her eyes with her sleeves.

“I was an emotional wreck the entire time I was pregnant with you. I’m sorry that I passed it along.” To her credit, Evalin did look a little sorry. Aelin had grown up hearing about it off and on. Rhoe frequently reminded her that she was a spitfire from the moment of conception.

“The hormones are a bitch. And the morning sickness? It’s all the time and it’s awful.” The only time she didn’t seem to be heaving the entire contents of her stomach was when Rowan was there to soothe it away. Sure, she had been sick a few times over the weekend, but something about the way he smelled seemed to keep it at bay for the most part. Human bodies were so bizarre.

“You are supposed to come home in a few months,” Rhoe wondered out loud. Rowan seemed to stiffen a little beside her. “Are your plans changing in that regard?”

“I don’t know,” Aelin admitted with a shrug and a sigh. “I’m working every day that I feel able to. Except for today and yesterday because Lysandra put Aedion on a plane. The bastard is still asleep right now, actually, but I am keeping up with work. Usually just half days because I’m exhausted and sick all the time. And Rowan is so busy with the season we only see each other on the weekends. If I come home when I was supposed to, though, I’m sure his teammates and fans would be thrilled if he stopped getting red cards.”

“If you think I’m going to play better while you’re pregnant on another continent, you’re insane.” Her parents chuckled, but she knew how serious he was. Rowan tended to worry to the extreme and her being away wouldn’t help.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get closer to it. How’s that?” Aelin looked up at him and he nodded. It would have to do for now. There was too much going on with Fireheart for her to abandon her responsibilities entirely, baby or no baby.

“Is there anything you need from us?” Her father asked, concern heavy in his brow. Not that she could think of, and she said as much.

“Between Rowan and Aedion, it’s all covered. Plus Lys is coming at the end of the week when Aedion leaves. I have my first appointment next week. I did have a blood draw that confirmed the pregnancy because I was so sick I couldn’t keep anything down. Lysandra berated me into an ER visit. They gave me some nausea medicine that seems to be helping, but we’ll know more about the baby next week. I’m not even really sure how far along I am aside from the basic math of when we met.”

“When you met?” Evalin’s eyebrows flew toward the sky and Aelin choked.

“Sometime around then,” she tried to save her prior phrasing, but her mom saw straight through it. Rhoe, on the other hand, looked eager to think about anything but his daughter’s sex life.

“What the hell are you already doing awake?” Aedion grumbled from the hall, rubbing his eyes as he stumbled into the room.

“FaceTime with Mom and Dad.” Her manicured hand patted the open seat next to her.

“Oh shit, already? I thought it would be this afternoon.” Aedion dropped down beside her and leaned in, waving to his aunt and uncle.

“Well. Mom found out about me and Rowan before I could even call her. Pictures of us from last night seem to be making the rounds all over the internet.” Rowan’s head whipped toward her, eyes wide and lips parted. His mouth was moving to form words, but before he could get an apology out she added, “It’s okay.”

The apology came anyway, and Aelin’s eyes jumped from his face to her mom and dad’s. Evalin’s lip quivered at the sincerity and Rhoe looked like he respected the man even more already.

Aedion reached around to pat Rowan’s shoulder sympathetically. “It comes with the territory. Surely you know how famous you are.”

“I mean, sure, when I’m playing.”

“Oh, you sweet child,” Evalin mused, causing Aelin to crack a wide grin. Their family knew better than anyone that certain athletes tended to sky-rocket into full on celebrity status. The tweets she had seen about all of them showed that tenfold.

“Rowan, you are quite literally a superstar,” Aedion told him. “You aren’t just huge on the field. Surely someone has mentioned to you that you’re insanely famous.”

“My agent and PR team are always nagging me to go to events and get on social media but… no one has ever really…” Rowan trailed off at the looks on everyones faces. Aelin was holding back a grin, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth.

“Baby, you’re kind of a big deal. And your face and body really don’t hurt,” Aelin told him, squeezing his hand. “Like people were so excited that someone saw you out and about.”

“I– what?”

“Okay, I think Aedion and I need to give Rowan a crash course in his fame. I’ll call you later?” Aelin said to her parents, who nodded in agreement.

“We love you. And we are absolutely thrilled about a grandbaby,” Evalin swore, a sentiment that Rhoe repeated almost verbatim. A weight lifted from her chest as she once again felt like fighting off tears.

“I love you,” she choked out just before ending the call, and then she was fully slumping into Rowan’s side. Giggles bubbled out of her all over again as she looked up at him. “I can’t believe you don’t know how famous you are.”

“What are people saying?”

“This one is my favorite.” Aedion showed Rowan a screenshot of his phone. It was a tweet that read: Look, I know we’re excited that 1. Rowan was out for once and 2. That he was spotted with sOCCER PRINCESS AELIN GALATHYNIUS??? But can we just talk about how good Aedion Ashryver looks?

A choked sound came out of Aelin before she could stop it, snickering following immediately after. Of course that would be his favorite.

She quickly opened the app, letting Rowan scan through news headlines and fan tweets while she peered at the screen with him. Most of them were good. A lot of the fans seemed to be happy about their potential romantic link. A few expressed their distaste, saying that Aelin was chasing fame after falling into irrelevancy. Those made her laugh, but Rowan didn’t seem to find the humor in it.

“They shouldn’t be talking about you like that,” he grit out. Aelin merely shrugged her shoulders.

“You can’t win them all. I’ve always been a little polarizing amongst the soccer community, anyway.” Gods, if that wasn’t the truth she didn’t know what was.

A lot of people accused her of nepotism and everything that fell under that umbrella. Yes, she was a nepo baby. But she was doing her best to make her own way in the world without relying too heavily on what her parents had built. Starting Fireheart was the first step of that and while they had contributed financially, it had been her idea. They just backed it with money when she needed the initial boost. Aelin liked to think that, relevant or not, she was using her name and generational wealth to put good back into the world.

“I had no idea I was this… big,” Rowan murmured, finally handing her phone back to her. There was an innuendo that Aelin’s childish mind couldn’t ignore. Her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip to bite back a laugh. “I knew Fenrys was, but he feeds into it. He likes the attention. I just assumed that since I stayed out of everything that didn’t have to do with the game, I was just known for playing.”

“There are girls that are dying to be me right now.” Aelin was grinning, but Rowan still wore a displeased frown. “Hey. It’s really okay. It was going to come out eventually and we don’t have to confirm or deny anything yet.”

“The thought of having to publicly comment on my personal life is so irritating.”

“Your comments can just come in the form of agreeing with what I put on social media or whatever statements I put out. You don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to do, Rowan. People are going to speculate regardless, and while I would eventually like to talk about us, I don’t have to.” She shrugged like it was simple. It wasn’t, but she would make it as easy for him as she could. Rowan sighed and rubbed his eyes with his forefinger and thumb. “I bet you’re wishing you went back to sleep when I told you to, huh?”

“You shut up,” he murmured, a playful bite to his words.

“People did find your instagram, by the way. And you’re only following me,” Aelin pointed out. “Maybe today we can post a picture or something and follow at least your teammates?”

“You’d help me with that?” Rowan looked surprised.

“Of course. I’m really good at social media. We’ll get you all set up before you go home later. I’ll even help you with everything you want to post. It’s not like I won’t be around to help you out for the next eighteen years at least.” Rowan squeezed her hand in thanks, his lips finally tipping into a smile at her joke. A bit of relief flowed through her at his smile. “With that settled, I’m going to shower and I believe you promised me chocolates.”

“That I did.” Rowan pressed a chaste kiss to her knuckles as she stood and headed walked toward the bathroom.

Everything with her parents had gone exactly as expected. The fact that they were happy about it despite the circumstances meant the world to her. Having that support in her back pocket at all times, no matter what was more important than she would ever let on. Rowan blended seamlessly in the conversations and she could only imagine how charming he would be when they officially met in person.

Everything was still beyond terrifying, but she tentatively felt like everything was going to be okay. She hoped, anyway.

~*~

“I want to talk to you about something,” Aedion said, waiting to speak until the shower was on and the soft thud of the shower door indicated she was inside. Her cousin leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, rubbing his hands together as he looked over at Rowan. “She would kick my ass if she found out, so please don’t mention it for the time being.”

“I’m all ears.” Rowan had been expecting this. The two hadn’t spent any time together alone thus far, and since he was more like a brother than anything else, he’d anticipated the big brother talk. It had only been a matter of when, not if.

“Aelin has… Gods, she’s been through some shit. I don’t know how much she’s told you about her last relationship, but it did a fucking number on her. For years she was a shell of herself and it was rare to even get her to smile. It would be a lie to say that she didn’t start acting like herself until she met you.”

“What do you mean? She seemed in good enough spirits when I met her,” Rowan said, thinking back to the spitfire woman in the bar. Aedion’s head shook.

“Aelin has always been good at putting on a front. We call it her insufferable swagger. While it’s part of who she is, it lacks a certain edge. Being able to rile you up about soccer was likely just part of that,” her cousin explained, scratching at his jaw. “Once she started telling Lysandra about you, something was different. The first call they had after, Lys burst into tears as soon as they were off the phone. Normally she keeps Aelin’s secrets, but she couldn’t even keep it from me because she was so happy that she just seemed normal.”

“I can’t take credit for any of that.”

“Maybe not. But we all think you sparked something in her. You brought her back to life, Rowan. Even just being here, it feels like Aelin, not the person she tried to be to make us not worry about her. There were times when she told us she felt like dying. That she would never try, but she was drowning and dying sounded like the more peaceful option. Constantly she told us how tired she was, and she never meant physically. It was the kind of exhaustion you feel deep in your bones that feels suffocating. But once you walked into the picture, everything about her has been different.”

Rowan turned the words over carefully, lips twisting while he considered. Aelin had always been the same to him, but he could see what Aedion meant in some ways. Now she was much sharper with her teasing tongue. It had him wondering if things would have been different without a troubled past relationship.

None of it sat well with him. The idea of Aelin withdrawing into herself and withering away to fragile, dried petals made him want to hit something. That anyone had ever dampened her golden light was beyond him. It took a special kind of asshole to do that to a strong and brilliant woman. He didn’t know what to say. Thankfully, Aedion had a little more to give.

“I can’t stand to see her go back to that place. I like you, Rowan. I do. But if I think for a single second that you’re not good for her or the baby I will not hesitate in beating the absolute shit out of you.”

“If you come to that conclusion, I would probably be in agreement. I’d let you.” It was the truth. Might even outright ask for it. Rowan had always accepted the punishments that he deserved.

“Glad we’re on the same page,” Aedion murmured, finally relaxing enough to sit back against the couch. The shower shut off moments later, the sounds of Aelin readying for the day filling in the silence.

When she finally opened the door, makeup and hair done with a robe wrapped around her body, she chirped, “Chocolate?”

“Yeah,” Rowan chuckled. “Chocolate.”

~*~

While they ate lunch at a little cafe downtown, Aelin had helped him make his first ever Instagram post. It was a picture of him leaning back in his chair, looking out at the bustling city around them. Despite feeling that he always looked awkward in photos, this one looked natural and candid. Aelin called him her boyfriend again and he was smiling when she snapped the winning shot. So far it had amassed several thousand likes and comments. Rowan wasn’t sure what to do with any of it.

Three dozen chocolate truffles and several bakery items later, Aelin and Rowan wandered back into the apartment. Aedion had let them go out alone for some time together. Now that he knew people were eager to sneak photos of him, he noticed cell phones turned their direction all morning. It was hard to not be frustrated about it, but Aelin’s touch was a soothing balm to the rising anger. If she wasn’t bothered he would try his hardest not to be, too.

“I probably need to go soon,” he said, sitting on the edge of her bed while she shucked off her leggings and pulled on a pair of little shorts. A sullen look pulled on her features as she stood between his legs, hands resting on his neck.

“Would it work if I said that I want you to stay?” Nails lightly scratched at his scalp and it was an effort to keep his eyes from slipping shut.

“It would make it harder for me to leave, but I do have practice in the morning. I can’t be late.” Never mind that he wished it weren’t the case. If she outright asked, he probably would stay and then hate himself for it tomorrow.

“Fine,” she sighed, hands sliding down his shoulders. Rowan wasn’t sure what it was about her touch, but it drove him mental in the best way. The loss of her skin on his was a new kind of hell he hadn’t known existed until he met her. “I have a scan next week. Do you want to go with me?”

“Do you want me to be there?” If she didn’t, he wouldn’t go. It might kill him a little, but he would stay away if it was what she wanted.

“I obviously want you there. Otherwise I wouldn’t have told you about it. That wasn’t my question. ” Ah, there was that sass Aedion had talked about earlier.

“I want to,” he swore, fingers trickling up and down her outer thighs. A smile took over her entire face and damn him, he couldn’t help his own grin to match.

“It’s Thursday afternoon. I can text you the details about where so you can meet me there from practice.” Rowan nodded as he collected the few things he brought with him and followed her out to the living room.

“It was good to meet you, man,” He told Aedion, the two bumping fists casually. Aelin was smiling while she watched, her fingers covering her mouth like an eager child.

“Hopefully I can make the trip over here again soon.” Rowan would genuinely enjoy that. Aedion seemed cool and cared so much about his cousin that he doubted he would ever have anything negative to say about the man.

Aelin led him to the front door, their loosely linked fingers swinging between them. Unable to help himself, he pushed her hair back from her face. Her eyes hid a secret smile as she gazed up at him. Gods, she was so beautiful.

“I’ll see you Thursday, then?”

Rowan nodded, “And I’ll talk to you every day in between.” It felt a little cheesy to say it out loud, but Aelin’s smile was enough to chase away the self consciousness he felt.

She stopped him with a hand around his wrist as he turned to open the door. When he turned back to look at her, Aelin rocked up on her toes and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. He had a feeling she knew it was a teasing move. Those brilliant turquoise and gold eyes confirmed it when she pulled away, mirth swimming in their depths. Such a cruel, beautiful thing she was.

“Drive safe,” she said, one more little smile shared between them before he walked out the door and began his short trip back to Doranelle.

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charincharge · 21 days

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I Don't Want To Wait, seventy

rowaelin high school bff au masterlist

AN: Chapter seven-fucking-zero. Let the rain fall down. Holy shit. Here we go.

The four-flight descent from the master suite down to the kitchen was torturous. She was annoyingly in tune with Rowan. She could feel the slightest flick of his eyes, every time he opened his mouth and then shut it tight again, the change in his gait every time he slowed his pace to walk more in time with her — but all it did was twist the rusty knife in her side, spreading her pain with each shallow breath.

As they rounded the corner of the last flight, Rowan’s hand swung so that it brushed against her knuckles, and she couldn’t help but snatch her hand away, resting in front of her waist and far, far, far from his possible grasp. Gods, she was not going to be able to keep it together during this dinner. And it was only their second day of vacation. And her friends weren’t idiots. They’d surely notice something was amiss.

She was wondering how to best keep them in the dark about her current subject of ire when Rowan slid into the seat between Chaol and Dorian at the far end of the table. His eyes flashed with such hurt that it re-sparked the bolt of anger swirling inside her. Where did he get off pretending like he was the hurt party between the two of them?

“Uh ohhhh…” Dorian chuckled as his bright eyes flicked between both ends of the table. “Mom and dad are fighting.”

Everyone around them laughed, but Aelin couldn’t even muster up a smile, and Rowan’s brow furrowed further.

“We’re fine,” Aelin forced herself to say, but she was so not fine. She barely enjoyed the multi-course meal that her friends had spent so long preparing. Based on the sounds everyone else was making, she was sure it was delicious, but she couldn’t even taste it through the iron of her anger. She made sure to “mmm” in all the right moments, but she was grateful that no one engaged in real conversation with her because she wasn’t sure she listened a single word that was said the whole time. Instead, her anger grew into new fiery magnitudes as she sat and watched Rowan pout.

The fire sparked more as Rowan excused himself halfway through their after-dinner movie to go upstairs to shower and never returned. Why was he the one allowed to pout? And as the flames flickered, heating her all the way through, Aelin was blessed with a genius idea. If he wanted to pout, she’d give him something real to pout about.

She stood, resolved in her plan, and she swore that Manon’s eyes were glowing as she smirked devilishly.

“Give him hell, babe.”

And she would. Aelin felt lighter than she had in hours as she made her way back up to their bedroom, fully resolved.

As she predicted, Rowan’s eyes were closed, but she knew he wasn’t asleep. This was part of his pouting process. His freshly showered hair was still damp over his strained brows as he muttered lowly to himself. She knew he heard her enter because his muttering paused, but he barely cracked an eye open as she went to her suitcase and pulled her nightgown from the bottom and took it into the bathroom to change.

Nightgown was perhaps too polite a word to describe the thin scrap of a garment she’d brought with her. It was indecent, was what it was. Aelin pulled the lacy fabric over her head and pulled it down and gasped. The it clung to her every curve, showing off the parts of her body that were (barely) covered by its low neckline and even shorter hem. Her skin seemed to glow in contrast to the delicate pink lace, which looked nearly transparent beneath the fluorescent lights overhead. Her anger had momentarily subsided, replaced with a burning confidence. She looked incredible.

Taking a deep inhale, she swung the door open and moved across the room to discard her other clothes into the plastic bag she’d designated for laundry. Despite not sparing him a glance, she could feel the exact second Rowan’s eyes opened and spotted her. As she bent lower, she could practically hear him choke on his own inhale.

“Wh-what’s that?” he asked, and she had to bite back her grin as she looked over her shoulder as innocently as she could.

“Oh, this?”

He nodded slowly, his eyes ravenous as he scanned her barely clothed form. She bit back another smile as he sat up further, arms crossed over his bare chest.

“It’s a nightgown.” She paused and widened her eyes for effect. “It’s cute, right?”

He practically wheezed as he shook his head. “Is there not… a bottom half?”

Aelin noted his hands balling into fists, grasping at the sheets below him as he attempted to relax into the pillow behind him, turning out the lights in the room one by one until the only one remaining was on the table beside him. His eyes tracked her the entire time.

“Nope,” she said. “It’s so much hotter here than at home, and you know I hate sweating when I sleep, so I brought a few with me.”

His eyes burned hotter with desire as she hoisted herself onto the bed and crawled over to him. His eyes lowered to her chest where the front of the nightgown was gapping slightly, and his jaw was loose as she crawled closer.

“I didn’t know you had—clothing like that.” As she finally reached his side of the bed, he brushed his finger against the lace, and recoiled quickly, as if the fabric had burned him. “And you have more?”

“Nightgowns?”

He grunted an affirmative.

“Yup.”

Rowan visibly gulped.

“I know we need to talk, but can we table it for night?” she asked, leaning even closer to him.

“You want to table it?” he asked, his hand reaching out slightly between them, ghosting against the skin of her thigh.

He looked so overcome with lust and desire that she almost felt bad as she reached across him, pressing her curves against his bare chest.

“Mmhmm,” she said, batting her eyes at him, loving the dazed expression that overtook his face in reaction. “I’m sooooo tired.”

“Tired?”

His lusty expression was blanketed in sudden darkness as she reached past him and turned his tableside lamp off.

“Night, Ro.”

She rolled to her side, her bare back and most of her butt exposed to him, and for a few seconds there was only the sound of rustling sheets as she nestled down. She thought they were finished talking for the night when Rowan spoke up again, “What other colors did you bring?”

Aelin smiled to herself. “Why? What colors do you want to see?”

“All of them,” he said. “Green…gold...” She heard him roll to his back and turn his face to the ceiling, both of them falling into a silence so thick with tension she felt itchy. She could practically feel Rowan’s desire through the dark, practically hear his teeth grinding with frustration.

It wasn’t until thirty minutes later, when she heard him slip out of bed and turn on an extremely cold shower, that her eyes finally fell closed and sleep overtook her.

. . .

The next morning, Aelin awoke early again, but this time to an empty bed. The room felt cold and dark, especially with the ominous grey clouds threatening to open up and pour hanging outside the window. Ugh. Guess they’d be looking at some indoor activities today.

Whereas Aelin had awoken filled with inspiration and creativity yesterday, she felt bogged down in her own frustrations today. Her taunting nightgown had done its job, but she didn’t feel any better. And she certainly didn’t enjoy waking up without Rowan, despite how mad at him she was. Which… she was. Still. Very mad.

The house was quiet as she threw on some sweats and grabbed her journal. Despite how much drama it had caused — well, it hadn’t caused any drama, really, it was an inanimate object who had no agency but still — she had really enjoyed revisiting it. Journaling was a rare opportunity for self-reflection and solitude, and she enjoyed being able to just let whatever she was feeling come out through her words.

She was just finishing her cup of coffee when Aedion staggered into the kitchen. He overfilled a large mug of his own coffee and slumped across the table from Aelin.

Aelin snorted. “Rough night?”

Aedion glared up at her. “You could say that.”

“In Dorian’s bed?” she asked, but Aedion’s eyeroll shut that down quickly.

“I wish,” he groaned. “Alas, I was up all night watching Golden Girls with your surly boyfriend.”

“What?”

Well, that had Aelin’s attention.

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch. He didn’t tell me anything.” He paused. “He’s not really a man of many words, is he?”

Aelin shrugged. “So, you just sat and watched tv together all night?”

Aedion nodded. “Pretty much.” He gestured toward the family room. “I went back to bed when he finally passed out… like… two hours ago? But my stupid brain wakes me up at the same time every day, no matter what, so I’m up again.”

“I’m sorry,” Aelin apologized.

But Aedion simply shrugged. “It was weird, but kinda nice to have the company. I’m usually up all night alone.”

Aelin knew Aedion well enough to knew that was a prompt. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She reached her hand forward and laced fingers with his and squeezed. Her superhero of a cousin had always seemed larger than life to her, and to see the dark circles stained beneath his eyes… well, she knew there was more lurking underneath than just his brush off answer of not sleeping.

He was opening his mouth to answer when Lysandra, Manon, and Elide made their way into the kitchen.

“Later,” he said, pulling his hand back and raising his mug in greeting to the newcomers.

“So, it’s pretty gross out there,” Lysandra said, wrinkling up her nose in annoyance as she poured her coffee. “There’s an arcade pretty nearby with a million indoor activities — laser tag, blacklight bowling, batting cages, bumper cars, and approximately a hundred arcade games, but it’s supposed to rain on and off for the rest of the week, so, it might be jumping the gun to go there immediately.”

“I don’t mind staying here,” Elide said, eyeing Manon like a piece of dessert and making Aelin’s heart pang with jealousy. That’s what she wanted to be doing all week. But stupid Rowan had to ruin it with his stupid lack of boundaries. Oh well, at least someone was utilizing this spring break week properly.

“Totes. And don’t think I didn’t clock that massive closet filled with games,” Aedion added. “A chill day with some board games?”

“DON’T TRUST HIM!” Aelin shouted, pointing at Aedion with an accusatory glare.

“What?”

“A chill day of board games?!” she asked, incredulous. “one is less chill about board games.”

“Except for you!” he laughed. “And she cheats.”

“Oh my god, are you ever going to get over that? Wagyu is in the Scrabble dictionary. We confirmed it,” she said, having had this fight with him approximately a million times in their lives.

“It’s a proper noun! It shouldn’t have counted!”

“Well then, neither should have margarita!”

“It’s a type of drink.”

“Just like wagyu is a type of beef,” Rowan interrupted, loafing into the kitchen with a tired smile. He rubbed at his messy hair and yawned loudly as he slid into the chair next to Aedion, nudging his arm gently. “It’s been at least five years. Can’t you let it go?”

Aedion grinned. “Never.”

She took a second to take in Rowan’s disheveled appearance, but his bloodshot eyes and haystack hair it did nothing to satisfier her. Instead, it made her want to shove her head against his chest and kiss his frown away. But she leaned back and stuck her tongue out at her cousin, irrationally annoyed at her own reaction to Rowan’s sudden appearance. She had been so proud of herself last night, but her hours of sleep had done nothing but make her weak against his presence. She needed to batten down her emotional hatches and prepare to push against him. Ugh.

Lysandra scoffed. “Okay, well, maybe let’s keep Scrabble in the closet.”

“Who’s in the closet?” Dorian asked as he rifled through the cabinet and pulled out a box of cookies and a tub of frosting. Without waiting for an answer, he tore open the package and dipped the cookie into the frosting, and popped it into his mouth.

“Ohhh, me too, me too,” Aelin reached out with grabby hands, knowing that a sugar rush was definitely the answer to her less than optimal mood. Dorian walked to the table and plopped the sweets in front of her, still hovering, so as not to leave the sweets on their own.

“Your metabolism is a medical marvel,” Aedion muttered.

“Thank you,” Dorian and Aelin replied in unison, causing them to break into giggles and dig into the frosting again.

Lysandra rolled her eyes, but Aelin didn’t fail to notice that she stole a cookie from the open container and dipped it into her coffee.

“So, what’d I miss?” Dorian asked through sugar-laden bites. “Something about a closet?”

“Board game closet,” Aedion clarified.

“Mmm, I’m more into video games.”

Lysandra went over to a side console and pulled the door open, revealing a neatly organized row of consoles. “We’ve got those, too.”

“Fuck yeah!” Dorian cheered far too loudly for most of the people who had just barely woken up. “Should we set up a tournament? Brackets?”

“So competitive,” Aedion smirked.

Manon pinched her nose and yawned exaggeratedly. “I’m not awake enough for this level of enthusiasm.” She yawned loudly as she grabbed Elide’s hand. “We’re going back to bed.”

Elide giggled as they both grabbed their coffees and headed off to bed to do anything but sleep. Aelin thougth that maybe Rowan would do the same thing, seeing as he had clearly not slept well, but he simply sat there quietly as Lysandra listed out all the games she had and asked who wanted to play what.

Chaol rolled out of bed midway through the discussion, helping them come up with an extreme game bracket for the day.

They started with a rousing game of Monopoly, which Aedion crushed (but only because he was a known cheater), then moved onto Clue where Chaol surprised them all by winning. But Rowan played quietly, studiously avoiding eye contact with Aelin and sitting as far away from her as possible. By the time they were halfway through the game of Life, she was fully furious at him again. Her anger was compounded by the occasional squeal of giggles that floated from across the house where Manon and Elide were still holed up, and Aedion and Dorian’s heavy-handed flirting. It wasn’t fair. She and Rowan had worked so hard to get to where they were, and they finally had a full unsupervised week and a giant king-sized bed and more nightgowns than she could possibly wear, and he was avoiding eye contact with her??? This was all his fault to begin with!

She channeled her anger as she sped around the Super Mario Cart track, throwing shell after shell at his Link, seeking out any kind of reaction.

“What the hell, Ace?” His eyes flashed at her furiously as Link fell off the track from spinning out on her well-placed banana.

His annoyance only fueled her further, focusing on smashing the bike her Princess Peach was riding against his car again and again.

“Hey!”

Rowan stood suddenly, using his entire body to try and smash her back.

“Uh, you guys know you’re supposed to be racing and not killing each other, right?” Lysandra asked as her Tanooki Mario (or Furry Mario as she referred to him as) zipped by them.

“Let them fight it out,” Aedion laughed, his Donkey Kong lapping the fighting pair again. Aelin hadn’t even noticed that she’d stood up and was shoulder to shoulder with Rowan as they fought each other, using whatever weapon they came across to throw at the other. She dodged his bomb, but his red shell hit Peach square in the face, knocking her off course. She retaliated by driving right into the back of his car, causing him to step closer and lean into her as they fought. The feel of his arm against hers gave her a shocking thrill, and she momentarily lost focus, letting him pull ahead of her. Not that their rankings mattered at this point; they were nearly a full lap behind everyone else.

“FUCK!” Rowan growled as Dorian’s Yoshi crossed the finish line. He threw down his controller with a loud whoop and danced around the coffee table, bragging about how he was the King of Kart, how no one would ever beat him.

“Again?” Rowan asked, eyeing Aelin, who nodded immediately.

Everyone else bowed out to go put together some lunch, but that was fine. Aelin and Rowan needed their alone time. It wasn’t quite like what she imagined their alone time would look like, but it was necessary nonetheless. She let him choose the racetrack, and he of course chose her nemesis: Rainbow Road.

“Fine by me,” she said.

Neither of them sat, aggressively pushing against each other as they whipped around the course.

“Get out of my way!” Aelin shouted, but Rowan was suddenly just as fired up as she was.

“Over my dead body, Princess!” he yelled back as Link narrowly avoided a rogue banana peel.

Aelin growled, flashing her teeth at him as she sped around the part of the course she knew best. She felt like she was flying, her heart soaring with each sharp turn and each coin she accumulated.

“Nooooo,” Rowan groaned as Aelin shoved against him, causing him to lose his concentration and fall behind. His thumbs fumbled on the controller, and Aelin used the moment of distraction to hit him with a shell and beat him by a mile to the finish line.

“HA!” she said, doing her own victory dance.

Rowan’s face scrunched into one of disdain as he flopped back onto the couch. He rubbed at his face and closed his eyes, his exhaustion zapping her of the thrill she felt from her win.

“Ace…” he said with a soft sigh. “Can we please talk?”

Her shoulders tensed and she shook her head.

“Please?”

“I’m still so mad at you, Ro,” she finally said, barely whispering.

“That’s why we should talk. Just, get it out.” He reached out and laced his fingers with hers. “I miss you.”

“I’m right here.”

But he shook his head. “No, you’re not. And I did that. I know I did.”

She took a deep breath. “I can’t pretend like it’s fine. It’s not,” she said.

“But you’re not ready for me to apologize?” he asked. “I was up all night thinking about it, and…”

“I’m not ready to talk about it.”

“So, what, you’re just not going to talk to me for the rest of the week?”

She shrugged, her refusal to talk seeming nonchalant, even though pain tugged at her stomach each time she looked at his sad green eyes.

She didn’t know why she wasn’t, but even knowing that he wanted to apologize, she didn’t want to hear it. Maybe it’s that she knew she would cave immediately, and she wanted him to stew and understand just how badly he’d messed up. So, yeah. She was choosing to stay angry.

“Okay, well… let me know when you’re ready,” he said.

“I will.”

And though she knew they’d come to some sort of stalemate, a rough truce, it didn’t stop her from breaking out yet another nightgown as they made their way to bed that night. This one was a silky material that looked like molten gold, the soft fabric rippling as she strutted across the room. It was just as short as the pink lace number from the night before, but this one also had a low, low back. It seemed like it was barely held up, just above the swell of her ass by two delicate straps that she was sure Rowan could break with his teeth if he wanted to. The way it fell across her skin, it could have been painted on, barely concealing a thing.

Rowan’s eyes had never been wider as she unbound her hair, letting her blonde tresses fall down the naked expanse of her back. She could practically hear him gulp as she got into the bed beside him. His eyes flashed from her thigh to her back to the swell of her chest to the dip of her waist, unable to decide where to look.

“Ace… you look…” His eyes were wide and pained as he curled his hand into a fist, clenching and unclenching, as if he were aching to touch her. “Stunning. You’re a goddess.”

“Maybe we should have angry sex,” Aelin laughed, but Rowan didn’t look amused at all.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He paused and looked at her up and down, desire prickling every inch of her skin as he took his time taking her in.

“I’d settle for a kiss,” she said. “If you wanted to.”

He didn’t wait for any more direction, letting her pull his neck down and press her lips against his in a burning kiss. It’d barely been over twenty-four hours since their last kiss, but it felt like a thousand years, if their bodies’ reactions were any indication. Their mouths opened and tongues met as their fingers scratched at each others’ scalps, tugging harder and harder, until Aelin’s bare thigh was hitched around Rowan’s hip. She could feel him throbbing inside his shorts, and she couldn’t help but tilt her hips against him, rubbing like a cat, desperate to be pet. It was only when a wanton moan escaped her mouth that he reared back, jumping out of the bed with a start.

“Shit,” he breathed hard. “You’re far too tempting.”

He adjusted himself in his shorts and threw on a t-shirt.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“This parade of nightgowns is going to be break me,” he said, chuckling darkly. “I think I should sleep downstairs again.” He paused. “Unless you want to talk?”

Aelin’s lack of response was enough for him to know his instincts were right.

“Right,” he sighed. “See you in the morning.” He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before turning on his heel, leaving her alone, still breathless and wanting.

Hours later, Aelin was still staring at the ceiling, horribly awake. She was feeling that itchy sense of restlessness. No matter how long she closed her eyes for, she kept seeing the flash of hurt in Rowan’s face again and again, burning itself into her brain until she couldn’t keep her eyes closed any longer. Fuck this.

She tore the silly gold nightgown off and replaced it with some well-worn sweats before padding two floors down to where Aedion had been placed. Despite the late hour, the light was still shining beneath the crack in the door, and Aelin was relieved. She’d hoped he’d be awake, but hadn’t been totally sure. She announced herself with a small knock before cracking the door open.

Sure enough, Aedion was upright in bed, scrolling on his phone absentmindedly. His blue-green eyes stared up at her, startled for a second, before melting into a familiar smile. He patted the comforter next to him, and she bounded across the room before jumping onto the bed with a large bounce.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, and Aelin shook her head.

“You’re not hanging out with Rowan tonight?”

Aedion chuckled softly, rubbing the top of her head with his large palm. “Nah, I thought I’d swap out with Lys tonight.”

“Lys? Is hanging out with Rowan?”

“Yup.”

Aelin paused.

“Should we check on them to make sure there’s no blood shed?”

Aedion inhaled, causing him to snort loudly. “I thought you wanted his blood shed?”

Aelin groaned and flopped back onto the soft pillow. “No, of course I don’t. I love him. I would like him to stay alive and in one piece.”

“Sure could have fooled me with your shell throwing, Peach,” Aedion laughed. But he sat patiently, waiting for her continue.

“He read my diary.”

“Whoaaaa,” Aedion whistled. “That…”

“Isn’t cool?” Aelin completed his sentence. “Yeah, I know.”

“I was gonna say, that doesn’t sound like Rowan, actually,” Aedion said, running his hand through his thick hair and pushing it back thoughtfully. “Why’d he do it?”

“Huh?” Aelin asked, distracted by her barrage of feelings of betrayal and hurt once again.

“Why’d he do it?”

“Uhhh…” Aelin didn’t have an answer.

“He didn’t give you a reason? Why he opened your journal and invaded your private thoughts?”

“Well, he started to but…I kind of didn’t want to hear it?”

Aedion sat thoughtfully, his eyes glazing over as he parsed through his own emotions and figured out what to say next. It was rare for Aedion to speak so candidly with her. Their relationship had always been a series of taunts and sibling-adjacent teasing. But he was smart and knew her better than most. And he lived her entire history with Rowan, so she was curious to hear his response.

“I think you should hear him out,” Aedion finally said, causing Aelin’s hackles to rise. Why should she have to listen to his explanation when the betrayal was so clear cut and obviously wrong? Why should she care about the why when the what couldn’t ever be explained away. “I know what you’re thinking,” Aedion continued. “Because if you’re going to be fully and rightfully mad, you should know what caused this insane lapse in judgement.” He paused again and stared at her.

Aelin nodded, taking in his explanation, but she wasn’t sure she agreed with it. “I’m not ready to stop being mad yet,” she admitted.

“You don’t have to.”

“I just know that as soon as he starts explaining, I’m going to forgive him. And I don’t want to forgive him.”

“Why not?”

A small tear ran down Aelin’s cheek as she sniffled. “Because he’s leaving me.” She shook her head, sniffing the tear back and continuing forward. “I think maybe there’s a part of me that thinks maybe this is just an easy way to push him away. You can get left if you leave first, right?” She took a deep breath and stared up at her cousin with wide blue eyes, her lip trembling. “Aed, am I totally fucked up?”

“C’mere,” Aedion said, letting Aelin lean against his shoulder and cry it out.

She knew this was about so much more than her journal. It was a panic reaction. Even though Rowan had reassured her approximately seven hundred and one times that he wasn’t going anywhere, that deep down, she still didn’t believe him. She was so ready to push him away. Because him wanting to be with her… it didn’t make sense. And so when he made this (albeit huge!) mistake, and was upset with her, her instinct was to lean into that feeling. Like, aha! She knew it! He didn’t want to be with her, after all. Because she’s terrible, so who could want to be with her?

“Just talk to him.”

She thanked Aedion for his advice, but wasn’t sure she was going to take him up on it. Instead, she went upstairs and wrote all her feelings down. They were raw and uninhibited, and for the first time, she realized that maybe there were wounds between them that had never healed. Aelin’s eyes finally fell shut just as the first rays of dawn peeked over the horizon. And it was nearly noon by the time she woke up to Lysandra tapping her shoulder.

“Hey,” she whispered.

“Hi,” Aelin startled, looking at the clock and cringing a bit. She’d slept half the day away.

“It’s still raining, so we’re going to head to the arcade, did you want to come? Or do you want to chill here?” Lys asked. “We just didn’t want to leave without telling you.”

Aelin shook the last vestiges of sleep off and sat up slowly, stretching her arms overhead. “No, I’m up. I’ll come.”

Lys left her to get ready, and despite feeling groggy as hell, Aelin didn’t bother to do anything other than get dressed for the day and tie her long blonde hair into two neat braids.

The arcade was only a few minute drive away, but in her typical spot in Rowan’s passenger seat, it somehow felt a thousand years long. She’d tried to get into Manon’s car, but Aedion had practically shoved her into the jeep. By the time they arrived at the arcade, Aelin felt shaky with tension. Honestly, she felt like she could somehow run a marathon and easily fall over all at the same time. She wasn’t sure what to do with the mass amounts of adrenaline and nerves coursing through her, but luckily, the group decided they wanted to do bumper cars first, which was an excellent outlet for her stress.

As she shoved her car into the side of Rowan’s car, making him crash into the back of Dorian’s and causing a giant pile up, Aelin was feeling pretty great. She felt even better as she and Dorian went head to head for a Just Dance battle that she fully nailed. But her anxiety came back tenfold when the group decided to end the day with an epic laser tag battle, putting her and Rowan as team captains.

She glared at Lys, who had divied them up, but her friend never looked her way, ignoring her as they split up to “strategize.”

“Okay, Captain,” Manon said, slapping Aelin’s shoulder. “What’s our battle tactic?”

. . .

It turned out that Aelin was an excellent laser tag player. She eliminated the competition with a swift efficiency, like she was born for it. She took Aedion out first, since he was unpredictable and athletic. Then, Lys, who tried to stay camouflaged in the corners of the complex castle-shaped course, but she spotted her darting across one turret and took her out, too. Manon turned out to be a great wing-woman, too, keeping Aelin’s sides safe from the other side’s onslaught of attacks.

“On your left!” Manon hissed, causing Aelin to jump directly out of Rowan’s laser’s range. She was about to stick her tongue out when Manon gasped and fell to the ground. “Nooooo, I’ve been shot!” she gasped dramatically. “It was a coordinated attack! Get Chaol! Then save yourself!” she shouted.

Rowan stalked closer, but Aelin darted into a corner, out of sight, managing to take out Chaol in a surprise move. But without her defenses, her team started dropping like flies. Elide and Dorian were quickly eliminated, leaving just Aelin and Rowan in the course by themselves.

“Come on out, Ace,” he said. “You can’t hide from me forever.”

“Can too!” she shouted. But saying anything was a mistake, he followed her voice, and she narrowly darted out of range from his laser. “Too close,” she muttered, crouching on the ground and scaling the shadows of the walls again.

She spotted his glowing swath of hair under the black lights and attempted to target him, but it was as if he knew where she was at all times. They could feel each other’s eyes, even in the dark, as if there were some invisible thread tethering them together. No matter where she hid, he found her, and same for him. She didn’t know how long the game had gone on, until there was a flashing light overhead.

“Your game is ending in five minutes,” a speaker said overhead. Whoops. They’d used the entire hour and a half.

“Just call it a truce, and let’s go,” Manon whined. “I’m ready for dinner.”

There was a rumbling of agreement on the sidelines, but Aelin refused to call a truce. Stealthily, she snuck against the wall, tracking his every movement, until she knew she had him cornered. It was only when Rowan’s laser hit her target that she realized he’d known she was there the whole time, luring her into his trap.

“UGH!” she said, throwing down her laser as the lights came back on. “You couldn’t have just let me win?”

She knew she was being a sore loser, but she ignored Rowan’s outstretched hand, saying good game. But when she saw his lips tug down, she felt like crying again.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “Can we talk?”

His eyes lit up. “Yeah?”

She nodded. “But food first?”

She’d thought they were going to stay at the arcade for dinner, but apparently the restaurant was attached to a bar, and Aedion suggested they take pizza home instead. Although she was ravenous, by the time they got back to the beach house, Aelin just wanted to get through this conversation. She held Rowan’s hand, stopping him from exiting the jeep with everyone else, but luckily, he got the idea immediately.

“Okay,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Why’d you do it?”

Rowan’s jaw loosened slightly. “We’re just jumping right in?”

“Yup.” She twirled the end of one of her braids nervously. “So… why?”

Rowan sighed. “I think you’re going to be madder when I tell you why.”

Aelin’s shoulders tensed. “That’s okay.”

“Okay,” Rowan continued, steeling himself. “I know that I’ve told you to take your time telling me things, but… after what happened with your mom…” He paused. “I can feel you shutting me out. And I just wanted to know what the hell was going on in there,” he said, tapping the side of her head. “And I guess I read a bad page, but it just seemed to confirm everything I thought. That you had given up on us, that we weren’t meant to be together.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve loved you for so long… and I stupidly thought that we got past all the bad stuff and we would share everything, but it just felt like we were in the bad stuff again.”

Aelin took a deep breath and hummed, processing his words. As predicted, her anger had melted away with each of his words, but she was left with a raw and gaping hurt instead. “I need you to understand that it’s okay for me to have a private space to think through my feelings, Ro.” She paused. “That journal is like my therapist. It’s seen all the highs and lows and everything in between. And… I wish that you had just asked me what was wrong, instead of going behind my back. Just because we’re in love and share ourselves with each other doesn’t mean we don’t have boundaries. That journal is a hard limit.”

“I can see that now,” he admitted, running his hands through his hair, making it even more disheveled than it was before. “And I get it, I really do. I just… wanted to know how you were really doing.”

“I will always tell you how I’m really doing,” Aelin said. “It might not be immediately every time, but I will.” She leaned forward and laced her fingers with his.

“I think maybe I’m still figuring out what our boundaries are,” Rowan said. “Sometimes I think I know everything about you, and then other times you’re a complete mystery to me.”

“Isn’t that part of the fun?”

He squeezed her hand. “I’m really, really sorry. I jumped to conclusions and was a stupid idiot, and I’ll never ever ever do it again.”

Aelin scoffed. “You’d better fucking not, or I’ll wear another week’s worth of nightgowns and refuse to let you touch me.”

Rowan chuckled softly. “That was cruel.” He paused. “Are we okay?”

“If you’re asking if you can touch me in my nightgown tonight, then the answer is yes,” she said with a small smile.

He leaned forward and kissed her softly, and she could feel both their anger dissipate with each press of his lips. With a sigh, he leaned his forehead against hers. Because she knew that wasn’t what he was asking.

“Yeah, we’re okay, Ro,” she finally said, and he exhaled deeply.

But despite her words, that night and for the rest of the week, when Rowan slid his hand beneath the silk and lace of her nightgowns, she couldn’t help but feel an uncomfortable gnawing in the pit of her stomach that perhaps too much had gone unsaid.

#idwtw au #rowaelin #tog fic #throne of glass fic #rowaelin fic

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renxzs · 1 year

Text

Flight to Orynth x Rowaelin | AO3 | Masterlist

Summary: Aelin’s flight is delayed due to inclement weather. Thankfully she has a certain silver haired stranger to keep her company.

Word Count: 4.3k

CW: nsfw (18+ only), strangers in an airport, slight praise kink, modern au

Aelin: September 9th

Lysandra: ???

Aelin: Save the date. For my upcoming wedding to the hottest fucking male I’ve ever laid my eyes upon. 🥵

Lysandra: SEND PIC

Aelin: hahaha, uh no.

Lysandra: Aelin!! pleeaasse

Aelin: I’m not snapping a photo of a stranger like a fucking creep.

Lysandra: May I remind you of our trip to Wendlyn last summer…

Aelin’s eyes narrowed imperceptibly with a snort. Her best friend loved to play dirty.

Her gaze cut up across the sitting area to the unsuspecting male. His nose continued to be buried in a novel. Of course, he just had to be a reader, too. Gods help her.

Aelin: FINE

Lysandra: 😁😘

Her heart thudded wildly in her chest as her eyes were drawn back to the silver haired male still focused on his book. She wasn’t normally so easily rattled by a male, let alone one across a large room whom she hadn’t even spoken to.

It was just one silly picture.

Attempting to be inconspicuous, Aelin shifted the angle of her phone until the lens brought the subject of her attention into focus. He was truly a beautiful specimen… Gods, get a grip. Her thumb hit the shutter button and snapped a few back-to-back frames.

Recrossing her legs, Aelin pulled up the most recent photo in her album app. A hint of a smile dusted her lips while she drank in the male. The photo didn’t do him justice, yet somehow was still unfairly flattering. And that quiet smirk tugging on his lips had faint flutters stirring low in her belly.

Aelin’s teeth dragged over her bottom lip as she sent the photo off to Lys, who must have been poised and ready to pounce. Her response was near immediate.

Lysandra: GODS FUCK, AELIN.

Her teeth clamped down harder to stifle her laugh.

Aelin: I know!

Lysandra: THE MUSCLES.

Lysandra: THE FACE.

Aelin: I know!!!!

Aelin: Lys, I’ve never wanted a stranger so bad. 🥵 it’s been way too long.. I’m dying over here.

Lysandra: Go climb that male like a tree. NOW!

Aelin: 😂

Lysandra: I’m dead serious. You’re hot as fuck. It’d be a damn blessing for any male to—

Aelin slammed her phone face down onto her lap when a low voice practically purred, “If you need a close up, don’t be afraid to ask.” The lilt of his accent thrummed through her in all the best places.

She whipped to where the voice had come from, only to be brought up short with that gorgeous silver haired male now occupying the seat to her left.

Proximity only enhanced his already attractive features—piercing emerald that banded his pupils, sharp lines and strong jaw, thick lashes that every male seemed to undeservingly have, plush soft pink lips that curved into a self-assured smirk.

Aelin’s eyes snagged on swirls of black ink peeking out just above his shirt collar. His sleeves were pushed up to the elbow, exposing powerful arms—the left one covered in more ink down to his wrist. Her fingers itched to uncover if his sleeve connected to the tattoo on his chest.

Gods, she could quite possibly die. Her pulse hammered in her ears and her palms felt clammy with the shock of being caught.

With a clearing of her throat, she shoved the embarrassment down and grabbed furiously at the threads of inner bravado she could typically summon so easily.

Aelin leveled her gaze with his then quipped, “Can a female be blamed for admiring the male form?”

His smirk grew as his eyes flicked down her body before settling back on her face. “Certainly not.”

Her current travel attire consisted of her favorite pair of yoga pants that nicely accentuated her toned legs and ass, and a cropped hoodie that tastefully exposed a section of her midriff—practical and cozy, but also cute. Her new companion seemed to agree.

The male relaxed back in his seat, slightly orienting his body towards her. He reached out a large bronze hand, “I’m Rowan.”

His grasp was warm and firm. “Aelin.”

Rowan hummed appreciatively, his hand lingering against hers a moment longer. “Pretty.”

Heat rose to her neck and cheeks. Averting her gaze, Aelin’s eyes fell to the phone in her lap. This was all Lysandra’s fault. She just knew her best friend would be laughing herself silly if she were privy to Aelin’s current situation.

Aelin subtly shifted in her seat as well, to better see Rowan. She made a show of recrossing her legs, letting her right foot bob freely in the air. His gaze tracked the movement, leaving a trail of heat tingling up the length of her leg.

“So what brings you to this fine establishment on a stormy Tuesday evening?” Aelin asked airly with a wave of her hand to their general surroundings.

Rowan chuckled, laugh lines crinkling around pretty green eyes. “Your flight grounded due to the weather, too?”

She nodded her confirmation. “Orynth. You?”

The corners of his lips upturned. “Same. Flying in from Doranelle after visiting on holiday.” She wondered idly who exactly he might’ve been visiting. Friends, family—a significant other?

“I try to go home at least twice a year,” Rowan supplied, as if her thoughts were written across her face. “Though my cousins insist it’s not enough,” he chuckled. So family, then.

Aelin hummed. “So you work and live in Orynth then?”

“Yeah. I took a position back in the fall at UT.” She raised an eyebrow. Snagging a position at the University of Terrasen was an impressive feat. “I love it so far,” Rowan continued. “And Terrasen is a beautiful country.”

She couldn’t help the fond smile that curved her lips. “It really is.” She gently nudged his calf with her foot and crooned, “What is it you teach, Professor?”

The change was subtle, but Aelin swore his pupils dilated ever so slightly. Interesting. Rowan snorted, “History.”

“Explains the novel,” she said, dipping her chin towards the worn war book tucked into a side pocket of his carryon bag.

“What can I say, it’s an area of interest.”

Aelin’s smile broadened with mischief. “I could provide a few recommendations if you’re looking to add a bit of spice to your repertoire.”

Rowan’s head tipped back as he barked a laugh. “Oh, Aelin—I’m quite sure you could.”

Her name wrapped in his voice was like whiskey, all smooth burning heat. Her belly swooped with the suggestion coloring his tone.

“And what is it that you do, outside of your personal interest in photography?” He gave her a cheeky grin. “Surely assassin is off the list. You’re about as subtle as a flying brick.”

Aelin hit his arm playfully, refusing to allow her subsiding flush of embarrassment to rise to the surface of her skin again. “I work in publishing,” with a muttered bastard under her breath. To which Rowan heard perfectly, if his amused chuckle was any indication.

“Ahh, so you truly are equipped to hand out recommendations then,” he surmised.

Aelin leaned a bit into his space and hummed a confirmation, then added, “But the spicy recs are solely of personal interest.”

Her eyes tracked the bob of his throat as he swallowed thickly. She rested back into her seat again with a satisfied smirk.

Rowan’s gaze darted to the large screen mounted by their gate, skimming the information displayed. A moment later, his pine-green eyes were focused back on her. A quiet heat began to unfurl in the pit of her stomach as she held his stare.

His words were soft when he spoke. “Flight is still delayed for the foreseeable future. Let me buy you a drink.”

She pretended to mull over the pros and cons of sharing a drink with this virtual stranger—incredibly attractive virtual stranger. It wasn’t like she had anything else better to do to pass the time while stuck in this gods-forsaken airport. She couldn’t deny he would still likely be her first choice, regardless.

Rowan’s quiet confidence seemed to slightly waver with her prolonged silence, as if he were second guessing his offer and assessment of where they stood with one another on the flirting spectrum.

Aelin mercifully put a stop to his internal backtracking and offered her hand, accepting his invitation. The brilliant smile she received in response warmed through her as she allowed Rowan to pull her to her feet.

Aelin: I’m having drinks with him at the bar.. 🙈

Lysandra: OMG! I demand every single detail as soon as you land!!!

Lysandra: and BE SAFE.

Aelin: I will, promise 😘

Aelin smiled softly to herself as she returned her phone to an inner pocket of her work bag. Rowan sidled up to their shared high-top table and placed a second glass of red in front of her. She murmured a thank you before taking a long sip.

Rowan gave a nod as he settled on the stool across from her, a whiskey neat cradled between his large hands. Large, tan hands that she wondered how would feel exploring her body…

Aelin tightly squeezed her thighs together to stave off the growing ache between her legs. But the teasing pressure only stoked the flames licking to life beneath her skin. The warm buzz of the wine also wasn’t helping matters, nor was her current 9 month stint of celibacy since her breakup with Chaol.

“So,” he drawled before taking a dreg from his whiskey glass. “Are you ever going to share why you were snapping pictures earlier?”

Aelin slumped in her stool with an abashed groan, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“That was not my finest moment.” She risked a peek at him; open, gentle amusement shone back. “I’m sorry for that by the way.”

“I’m not.” Rowan said matter-of-fact. “It gave me the excuse I was desperate for to approach you.”

Aelin’s heart stuttered.

“I also hoped it meant that I’d maybe caught your eye, too,” he admitted softly.

She sat frozen for a moment, stunned by his revelation. Then wordlessly emptied the last remnants of her wine glass before sliding off the stool. It took all of two steps before she found herself well in Rowan’s space. Crisp snow and pine mixed with spicy undertones of a cologne filled her lungs. The heat emanating from his body made her head spin.

Her fingertips brushed featherlight alongside the edge of his strong jaw, savoring the nip of his stubble. Gently, Aelin turned his face towards hers and leaned in close. Rowan met her halfway, his breath soft against her lips as they both hesitated for a moment, then closed the remaining space between them.

The kiss was gentle, exploratory. Rowan tasted like the whiskey he was drinking, and she wanted to drink every bit of him down. Aelin gripped his shirt to pull him closer. The heat of his skin burned through her when he cupped her face, thumb smoothing over her cheekbone.

Rowan tilted her head back further for better access, tongue dancing across the seam of her lips. Aelin moaned softly, immediately opening her mouth to him. Rowan’s free hand had traveled to the swell of her hip and flexed tightly in response. Holding steady, keeping her close.

A pointed throat clearing cut through their reverie.

Her eyes cut over to the lonely looking patron two tables over who was going to great efforts to not stare at them. Her focus slid back to glinting pine-green eyes, and she clamped her lips shut to suppress the bubbling laugh—at this ridiculously crazy situation and the dazed look that overtook Rowan’s features.

“There’s a single unit restroom down that corridor,” she murmured with a slight incline of her head in the direction behind him, eyes smoldering as they peered up through thick lashes. “Meet me there in 5?”

“Yes.” His vehemence crackled through her veins.

The corner of Aelin’s mouth tugged upwards, and she extracted herself from his grasp. Wordlessly grabbing her work bag, she slipped past him in the direction of the restroom.

Aelin’s heart pounded rapidly in her ears, blood roaring with anticipation as the door snicked close behind her. Shaky fingers hung her bag on a courtesy hook before she turned to face the mirror.

Fiery blue eyes reflected back, bright and wild. Her cheeks, neck, and chest flushed with a healthy mix of arousal and adrenalin. She was really going to do this—fuck a stranger in an airport bathroom. Heat shot down her spine and pooled between her legs with the thought.

Mind so addled with lust and need, it was difficult to find reason not to do it. Her body burned with want for Rowan—very well might die from it without proper release.

Aelin leaned her palms against the sink counter and loosed a jagged breath. Breathe.

A soft knock echoed in the small space and she belatedly realized she hadn’t locked the door. Relief flooded over her as silver tendrils came into view, followed by the rest of him.

Anticipation twisted in her gut as Rowan clicked the deadbolt into place and turned to her. She swore the temperature of the room steadily rose when their eyes locked in the mirror.

Rowan dropped his bag to the floor and sidled up behind Aelin, his body heat and scent enveloping her. She bit back a moan, leaning into him.

He brushed thick golden tresses over to one shoulder, then pressed a kiss behind the shell of her ear, warm breath ticking. Aelin shivered. Rowan trailed open-mouthed kisses across her jaw and down her throat. Tipping her head to the side, she offered him more skin to claim.

“I’ve–I’ve never… done–” a sharp hiss turned moan interrupted her thoughts as teeth bit the sensitive flesh between her shoulder and neck before licking the hurt away.

“Never,” he rasped in agreement.

Rowan fingered the hem of her cropped sweatshirt before Aelin yanked it over her head without hesitation. His eyes grew impossibly darker, nostrils softly flaring at the sight of her pert rosy nipples through the sheer lace bralette.

Rowan snaked an arm across her chest, brushing a peaked nipple with his thumb and affectionately squeezing her breast. The other firmly held her hips against his, grinding against her backside.

“Never,” he repeated. “But you’re so fucking perfect, Aelin. I can’t help myself.”

Her name on his tongue was going to be her undoing.

The incessant press of his stiff erection at the seam of her ass had her eyes nearly rolling in the back of her head. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted more, more, more.

His arms tightened as she attempted to turn, holding her in place to face the mirror.

“Rowan,” she ground out in frustration.

Rowan tutted at her, wrapping his left hand around her throat to apply light pressure while the right wandered down the flat plane of her stomach. “Patience, sweetheart.” His fingers inched closer, barely dipping below the waistline of her pants, taunting.

The tension tightly coiling low in her gut was unbearable. Aelin gripped the wrist of his teasing hand, nails biting into tan skin. Her hips instinctively rolled, seeking his touch, but he didn’t budge.

“Please,” she whimpered, and he nibbled at her earlobe in response. Gods, she was going to lose her ever-loving mind. “Rowan, please please touch me.”

His fingers tightened the slightest bit around her throat. Piercing green pinned her in place through the mirror’s reflection, his smile purely predatory. “Now how can I resist such pretty begging?”

Aelin swallowed thickly, eyes following the descent of his hand.

Her nerve endings exploded when he finally, finally touched where she ached for him most. Utterly helpless to the groan that tore from her throat.

Rowan’s fingers moved in tight lazy circles over the bundle of nerves. His other hand slid from her neck to the curve of her jaw, gently turning Aelin’s head to the side.

“Shhh,” he soothed against her lips. “I want nothing more–gods,” Rowan sputtered, fingers dipping to her center, coating them in her dripping arousal. “–than to hear you scream yourself hoarse on my fingers, on my cock.”

Aelin loosed a shuddering breath as said cock twitched against her ass.

Rowan’s slick fingers slid back to her clit and her whole body tensed. He nipped at her bottom lip, “But I need you to keep quiet this time. Can you do that for me?”

She nodded, dazed.

“Good girl,” he crooned before kissing her deeply, thoroughly.

Aelin lost herself to the slide of his mouth against hers and the press of his touch at her sex. His hand dropped from her face to her breast, pinching one of her stiff nipples, sending a shock of pleasure through her. Then, without warning, Rowan pushed a finger into her heat, then added a second one.

After a few pumps, he eased in a third digit. “You’re doing so well, sweetheart.” His voice was sinful. “Have to make sure you’re nice ‘n ready for me.”

He greedily swallowed down her moans. Pumping slowly in and out of her, her walls stretching to accommodate.

Their kiss broke on a gasp that stole the breath from her lungs as Rowan curled his fingers to rub that spot along her inner walls. Her body clenching around his thick digits and toes curling in her shoes.

Rowan chuckled lowly. “Ohh, right there?” She nodded mutely.

He pressed a kiss to throat. “Use your words, Aelin.”

“Yes,” she groaned, hips undulating in time with his thrusts. “Gods, yes. Right there—nnh, fuck.”

The blatant neediness in her voice should’ve been embarrassing, but she was half out of her mind to care.

Rowan rewarded her with the firm press of his thumb to her clit, his fingers continually pumping into her. “Such a good fucking girl for me."

Aelin’s body trembled with the building pressure, overwhelmed with the effect of his words and touches. Surely she would combust any second and the wildfire roaring beneath her skin would consume her whole.

Rowan sunk his teeth into her pulse point and her body arched, pleasure rocketing through her. The impossibly wound coil deep in her gut finally snapping. Aelin nearly sobbed from relief, sagging against the strong arm across her chest.

Rowan’s hand lazily coaxed the last remnants of pleasure from her as she finished riding the wave of her orgasm. Their heavy breaths and his fingers gently pushing through the slick between her thighs the only sounds filling the space.

Not until he ensured she was fully sated did he pull away from her heat, dragging his fingers up the center of her body to leave a glistening trail in their wake. Aelin swallowed thickly as he brought those fingers to his lips to lick them clean. Humming like she was the sweetest thing he’s had the pleasure of tasting.

Aelin turned on shaky legs and hastily dragged his face to hers, lips colliding in a soul searing kiss. Rowan lifted and sat her on the bathroom counter without severing contact. Large hands tangled in her hair, tipping her head back to open her up further. Aelin hummed against the brush of his tongue.

Hands tugged impatiently at his shirt as she mumbled “off” against his lips. Rowan chuckled but obliged nonetheless.

Her bottom lip caught between her teeth as her eyes unabashedly devoured the muscled expanse of his heaving chest. The inked sleeve on his left arm indeed connected seamlessly to the whirling designs spanning across his left pec, licking up the base of his neck. She swallowed an appreciative groan.

“Gods, it’s unfair how fucking hot you are.” Aelin lightly scraped her nails over the ridges of his abdominal muscles.

“You’re one to talk.”

She smirked, but didn’t respond.

Her focus was instead drawn to the impressive bulge straining painfully against the zip of his jeans. Rowan grunted when she palmed him through the material. Then so slowly popped the button open and dragged the zipper down. Aelin worked the jeans and boxer briefs over his hips until his erection was freed and bobbing just below his navel.

Her eyes widened.

By the wryd, he was massive. No wonder he took such care in working her with his fingers first.

The smug grin was wiped clean from his face when she wrapped a hand around him. His head fell against her shoulder, releasing a jagged breath as she methodically worked her hand up and down his length.

Rowan mindlessly thrusted into her hand with soft groans. His full body shuddered when she squeezed the head of his cock and pressed her thumb to the weeping slit.

He bit out a curse, firmly gripping her wrist. “I’m not going to last if you keep that up.”

“Isn’t that the point?” She asked sweetly.

Rowan dragged his thumb across her lip. “You’re such a wicked thing.”

She hummed then wriggled her hips in silent command. Rowan didn’t need further elaboration, hooking his large hands in the band of her underwear and pants, slowly peeling them down her toned legs, also discarding her shoes in the process. At his gentle prod she spread her thighs, exposing herself fully to him.

The debauched groan that ripped deep from within his chest shot straight to her core. Pine-green eyes glazed as they settled on her glistening sex.

“Rowan,” she whispered. “Please.”

Her words snapped him into action. Gripping the base of his cock, he notched the swollen head against her entrance.

His body went rigid. “Fuck.”

“What? What’s wrong?” Trying to keep panic from edging in her voice.

“I don’t have a condom.” Rowan looked physically pained, tone forlorn.

Oh.

“Fuck, Aelin, I’m sorry.” He bowed to rest his forehead against hers. She tried very hard to block out the feel of him nudging against her folds with the movement. “I didn’t expect—hadn’t plann–”

Aelin silenced him with a kiss, slow and gentle. Her fingers delicately twined with the silvery strands at the nape of his neck.

“Fuck me, Rowan.” His cock twitched against her thigh.

He traced his thumb across her collarbone. “Are you sure?”

“I’m on birth control and I’m clean. Are you?”

“Yes,” he answered—to both questions. She nodded with understanding.

She stroked his length, then realigned him with her entrance.

“Then fuck me.”

So he did, pushing into her with a powerful thrust. Rowan slotted his mouth over Aelin’s to muffle her cries. Her toes curled tightly at the backs of his thighs, struggling to find any space within her for breath. Rowan panted, giving her time to adjust. Strong muscles shaking with barely controlled restraint.

After a moment, hips rolled against his in silent command. And Rowan obliged, pulling out to the tip before snapping into her heat again. Over and over.

Aelin’s head dropped back on a strangled moan as her nails dug into his flesh, seeking purchase anywhere.

“You take my cock so well, Aelin,” he bit out. “So fucking good for me.”

Rowan groaned as she clenched around him. Never in her life had she been so gods-damned aroused. She was going to come from his words alone, taking her apart piece by piece.

“Please, please, Rowan.”

His hand slipped between their sweaty bodies and drew pants from her pretty mouth that grew breathier and higher with each passing stroke. Until finally a wave of pleasure crested over her and she shattered around him.

Rowan nearly choked as her core contracted tightly around him. He buried a hand in her hair and brought her mouth to his in a rough kiss, the pace of his thrusts growing erratic. Then he was groaning loudly against her lips, finally meeting his release deep within her.

Aelin gently scraped her nails against his scalp and hummed into his mouth as his hips rocked slowly into hers, milking the last of their shared pleasure.

They stayed like that for long moments, Rowan still buried inside her and their lips exploring languidly. Separating only once a shiver ran through her body, the sweat gathered in the dip of her lower back cooling.

Rowan murmured against her skin through a smile, “Let's get you dressed.”

Aelin made a noise of protest as he pulled out of her, but allowed him to gently wipe her clean before helping her back into her clothes. Once fully dressed and steadied on her feet, Rowan tilted her chin with a tenderness that made her heart ache and gave her a lingering kiss.

“When we get back to Orynth, let me take you to dinner.”

With a little shrug, Aelin gave him a simpering smile. “It’s the very least you could do.”

Rowan snorted, despite the bright grin splitting his face. Then shook his head with quiet amusement, “So wicked.”

Aelin finally settled into her seat on the plane.

A smile seemed to permanently occupy her lips since she and Rowan slipped from the bathroom earlier.

Rowan. Gods, what an unexpected surprise he turned out to be.

Aelin slipped her phone from her pocket, preparing to switch it to Airplane Mode. Just as she swiped away the lock screen, a text notification scrolled across the top from her newest added contact. Biting her lip, Aelin tapped on the notification to open up the new iMessage thread.

Rowan: See you soon, sweetheart.

Warmth flooded her chest. Before she could type a response, her phone vibrated again with an additional incoming text and an image.

Rowan: ps. you can’t blame this poor male for admiring your exquisite form either. 😉

Aelin’s head jerked up to stare at the mop of silver hair seated several rows ahead of her, mouth agape for several seconds. Her lips twitched into a smirk, snorting in disbelief as her eyes fell back to the image on her phone.

An image of her from hours ago, stretching out in her seat with a hand running through her hair. Frankly, it was a good candid putting the lines of her body on display in the best way.

The stewardess’ voice crackled through the overhead speaker, directing passengers to please secure their seatbelts, close their dropdown trays, and switch all electronics to airplane mode.

Aelin fired a quick response back before toggling on Airplane Mode: Sneaky bastard!

Masterlist

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin smut #aelin ashryver galathynius #rowan whitethorn #throne of glass fic #throne of glass

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throneofsapphics · 3 months

Text

old faces, part 9

Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary: you and Rowan meet again, and deal with the fall-out of your secret

Warnings: brief mentions of difficult pregnancy/birth, drinking, mentions of death

Word Count: ~5.8k

A/N: sorry this one took so long!

series masterlist

Rowan looked for Aelin on instinct, wondering if she’d seen the same thing. On the other side of the ballroom, there was no inclination that she saw a thing. Should he tell her? Maybe.

A thousand emotions flooded through him; jealousy, hurt, betrayal, confusion, all surpassed by the desire to storm out of there and drag you far, far away from her. At least he had enough self-control to reign himself in. You were well within your rights to … be with whoever you wanted, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

Aelin met his eyes. What is it?

A brief shake of his head, and she frowned - her expression telling him they’d be talking about it later, but dropped it. There’s a time and a place, and now certainly isn’t it.

Still, he couldn’t stop his own mind from wandering. Where the hell do they go from here?

He knows better than to think you were doing this to get their attention, but part of him wished you were. At least he’d know then that you wanted them. If anything, you were doing it to put some space between the three of you.

Was he going to fight for you this time? Did you want him to? Rowan was a tad ashamed he didn’t know the answer.

You ran a finger over your lips. They were bruised but not from who you really wanted.

You did this. Took the small blossom of hope, and crushed it. The small spark of happiness terrified you enough you had to destroy it. You didn’t belong to them, and you knew that, but any chances of it repeating itself were gone. It would’ve ended in flames anyway. This was you protecting yourself.

The more you played with the thought in your mind, letting it repeat itself until the words sounded strange, the less you believed it.

Maybe everyone would hate you, and maybe you’d deserve it. Space. You needed to put distance between yourself and the others. It was for the better, of course. Maybe Rowan and Aelin would never speak to you again beyond what was necessary. Sure, it would hurt, but less than having your heart ripped out.

Coward.

Pressing your forehead against the stone, steadying your breathing, you tried to get the word out of your mind, tried to clear your head of any thoughts. It didn’t work.

Running your hands over the gauzy fabric of your dress, you straightened it enough to look presentable. Rolling your shoulders, twisting your neck until you felt a rather satisfying pop, you put one foot in front of the other, the only goal making it to your rooms. At least Ceri was spending the night with Evangeline.

Hopefully nobody would comment on your early exit. You didn’t care. Right now, you needed to get the hell away from there, drink some water, and sleep this off. What are the odds you could avoid this for the next week? Part of you tried to convince yourself you were making a big deal out of something inconsequential, and that they might not have noticed. Sleep came easier than it should’ve, but you took the small win where you could.

A small buzzing sound woke you, and you darted upright in bed, eyes alert and scanning. You relaxed at the hauntingly familiar magic, before memories of the previous night woke you and you tensed again, every muscle locking and on alert.

It’s too damn early for this.

Glancing at the window, the sun had just begun to peak over the horizon.

Swinging your legs over, feet hitting the soft carpet, you snatched a robe and wrapped it around yourself. Despite springtime, an early chill still set in. The sounds of fire crackling hit you, the small wave of magic comforting of all things. Breathing in through your nose, out through your mouth, you strided for the door, hoping your posture portrayed some semblance of confidence.

“You’re up awfully early,” you commented. Aelin groaned, sprawled out over your couch, arm covering her eyes as if the faint light pained her. Rowan leaned against the wall next to the fireplace. He was tense, she was relaxed. One of them knew.

Tea. Tea first.

Wordlessly, you blew past them towards the small stove and kettle, busying your hands. Three mugs.

Minutes later, you handed one to Aelin, an appreciative smile crossing her face, before her nostrils flared.

“I thought I saw you dancing with a witch,” she huffed. There was nothing … accusatory in her voice. You forced a smile onto your face.

“Your eyes are still working.”

“More than dance.”

You might kill Rowan later. Aelin’s head tilted, gaze darting from you to Rowan, but you took a few steps away, hands clenching the mug, chin tilting up, focusing on the male, eyes glittering with defiance.

A shrug of your shoulders, and you took your place at your favorite armchair.

The flash of anger in Rowan’s eyes amused you. He came here for a fight, but he wouldn’t get one out of you. Had he spied on you last night? Followed you out to the garden?

Despite the drunken turmoil raging in your mind last night, your head had cleared and you knew a few things; you’d done nothing wrong, and you didn’t answer to them.

Aelin straightened, “what do you mean more?”

She looked at you for an answer. On one side, you could let them make their own assumptions, or you could tell them what happened in plain words. You didn’t get the chance.

In a blink, Rowan was in front of you, his hands gripping your forearms, mug clattering to the floor. One hand twined in the back of your hair, tugging your lips to his. His kiss is brutal - claiming, consuming, and territorial. The last thought sealed it for you.

You don’t belong to anyone,’ Fenrys’s words popped into your mind, and you ignored the irony of thinking about him when Rowan’s lips are on your own. Shoving his chest, you managed to push yourself a few steps back, he didn’t budge one inch.

“What is your problem?” Your breathing was heavy, lips already bruised.

“You’re my problem.”

“Oh,” you rolled your eyes, ignoring the faint buzzing in your ears, “that’s what every female wants to hear.”

His hand gripped your arm again, “what do you want to hear?” A brief pause, and his mouth opened as if he was going to say something else, but the door flung open.

“Thought I might find you in here,” Lysandra chirps and strolls into the room - either oblivious to the situation, or purposefully ignoring it. Rowan took a step back, eyes still narrowed on you. “The girls are still asleep,” Lysandra continued, striding for the couch Aelin was currently occupying, shoving her friends' legs aside and ignoring the snarl that might’ve sent a rational person running. “Did I miss something?” False innocence laced her voice.

When Rowan and Aelin slipped into one of their silent conversations, she shot a wink your way. Because she knew what happened? Or because she’d caught you in a rather … compromising position?

A hiss. You blinked. Halle was winding between your legs - hissing at Rowan. The male broke eye contact with Aelin, glancing at the cat with a stony expression. Hackles still risen, she didn’t back down.

This was too much. Not now, you couldn’t do this now. Standing abruptly, you threw some excuse out before retreating to your bedroom, ignoring the eyes digging into your back. Fur brushed against your calf, and you thanked the Gods for bringing this little creature into your life. It was a strange connection, but you knew she had your back.

“What the hell happened?” Lysandra asked.

Aelin stopped glaring at Rowan long enough to look at her best friend. The shifter raised one brow, and she looked back to her mate.

“What do we tell her?”

“It’s none of her business.” It really isn’t, but she needs someone who’s not him to talk about this with. “Tell her what you want,” Rowan’s eyes conveyed an air of exasperation.

“It’s weird when you do that,” Lysandra commented.

“And you sound like my cousin,” Aelin snapped back, finally breaking her connection with Rowan.

“Is that supposed to be an insult?”

Aelin huffed and stood, linking her arm through Lysandra’s and dragging the woman with her. Looking over her shoulder, Rowan was staring at your bedroom door.

“Rowan, I’m sure you’re needed somewhere,” she called. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t, but this is the last place he needs to be right now. The three of you need time, and Aelin needs to wake up enough to figure out what the hell happened between last night and the last few minutes. Barely audible footsteps sounded behind them, Rowan slipping out the door right after.

As it shut, magic slammed and barricaded behind her. Dropping Lysandra’s arm, she pivoted to gaze at the door. Locked out. There’s no way she’d get in without your explicit permission - that or one of them tearing down the shields, and gods know how long that could take. Her throat bobbed, and Rowan was glaring at the nearly imperceptible shimmer.

Lysandra’s warm hand closed around her own, “we need to talk,” and led her back to her rooms. From the corner of her eye, she saw Rowan head towards a window.

The conversation with Lysandra left her … reeling. In honesty, Aelin didn’t know what to think of the situation. Blindsided, yes, but was it really a betrayal If you weren’t with them? You were well in your rights to fuck whoever you wanted, but she still felt a bit hurt, maybe like she wasn’t enough.

Aelin hadn’t dealt with this kind of insecurity ever, or at least since she can remember.

Combined with Rowan’s little show, and your reaction, this was a mess, and that’s what she was trying to avoid. She didn’t like to admit it, but Rowan knew you better, he’d have an idea of what the hell that was about - if it was anything - once he had time to calm down. Then again … you hadn’t exactly reacted well to him. She ran a hand through her hair, tugging at the golden strands. This was not how she thought her morning would go.

The timing was inconvenient. Glancing at the clock, it was nearly noon. Tomorrow morning, negotiations and meetings would start, and there certainly wouldn’t be any time to discuss this or figure out where they stood with you throughout the week.

Rowan’s magic hit her a second before the door swung open. She didn’t need to look at him to know he was still pissed. Sure enough, pine green eyes were filled with ire. Sitting next to her, he braced his forearms on his thighs, gaze fixed on the wall ahead of them.

“Are we going to talk about it?” She studied his profile. Clenched jaw, narrowed eyes, chest rising and falling at a too perfect rhythm.

“She’s a coward.”

That, she didn’t expect.

“Explain,” Aelin prompted. He looked at her, as if to eyes saying ‘isn’t it obvious?’, she ignored and waited for him to speak.

“She’s scared.”

The clipped answers weren’t going to cut it this time. “Actually explain it,” she didn’t bother keeping the annoyance out of her voice.

“She’s scared of getting close again. Too damn independent and stubborn to admit she actually wants us.”

“I want it,” you admitted to Fenrys, “but it’s not going to end well. I can’t put myself through that.”

“You haven’t actually tried,” he was trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice, and you appreciated the effort - even if it fell flat.

As if he knew you were brooding, he’d shown up and banged on your bedroom door until you came out.

Pausing for a moment, you replayed the events of the previous night in your head.

‘Remember to have fun. Remember you don’t belong to anyone,’ Fenrys looped his arm through yours.

“I should blame this on you,” you jabbed an elbow into his side. His shoulders rose and fell. “You’re the one who’s trying to stir something up.”

A half smirk on his face, but you knew he wouldn’t actually admit it - not yet. Out of character for the asshole, he was waiting for you to keep speaking.

“Is it immature if I avoid them until the week is over?” You finally asked.

“Maybe,” a trace of amusement found its way into his voice.

“He told me I'm his problem,” you huffed. A problem is the last thing you wanted to be.

“It’s not the way you think,” Fenrys snorted. This morning, all Rowan did was make it obvious he either wants you or thinks he has some kind of claim over you. Aelin … you weren’t really certain where she stood, or if she actually knew what happened last night. You assumed she does by now. Assumed that Rowan’s relayed the events in the worst possible way. It had been a few hours, you took the time to try and compose yourself, to calm your racing mind - it didn’t work well, and Fenrys showed up to get the full scoop from last night. To your surprise, he hadn’t known anything, but you were in the mood to talk so you’d relayed the whole story.

He, Evangeline, and Ceri were currently the only people your wards allowed through without your approval.

“Aren’t you going to ask me to explain?” He followed up.

“No. You’ll do it anyway.”

A small buzzing sound told you someone was nearby. Jasmine and lemon verbena hit a moment later. Alone. Just Aelin.

There wasn’t any point in trying to keep her out, and you bent the magic enough to let her through. There was no hesitation as the door swung open and she strode through. Like she would’ve on any other day. Like you hadn’t just shut them out for the first time in months. Not that you were searching for one, definitely not.

One pointed look from her, and Fenrys left, sending a wince your way. That should’ve been enough of a warning sign. She settled on a chair across from you, looking every bit a Queen. Halle jumped up from your lap, crouching in front of your feet instead, tail swishing back and forth, hitting your ankles with each pass. Effectively, she’d put herself between the two of you. A barrier. It unnerved you, that your cat thought they might be some kind of threat. Aelin glanced at her, holding the cat’s gaze for a moment, before her eyes returned to you.

“Is this a joke to you?”

“Excuse me,” you straightened, spine stiffening.

“The way we feel about you. We’ve made it obvious. Tell me now if it is, I don’t like being made a fool.” There was a coldness in her, a sharpness in her tone you hadn’t heard directed at you.

The easy thing to do would be to cow, to bend, to appease, but you were sick of doing that.

“I don’t belong to anyone,” you kept a quiet confidence in your voice, somehow meeting her eyes.

“Is this some kind of test?” You’d always been good at reading people, and those years of observation came through. Aelin was hurt, yes, but there was a tinge of insecurity.

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

Honesty, honesty, honesty, you chanted in your mind.

“This won’t end well,” you swallowed, “and I can’t put myself through that.”

A harsh laugh. “You haven’t even tried. We haven’t tried,” Aelin ran a hand over her hair, smoothing it. “Maybe Rowan’s right about you being a coward.”

This time, you laughed - the sound harsh to your ears. Not a laugh of joy - of disbelief. She’d been paying attention to Rowan, then. Figuring out exactly what words would get a reaction out of you, would light a fire under your ass. Halle hadn’t reacted, and maybe it made you insane but you knew you were still safe somehow - that even your cat was still weighing the situation.

“I prefer to call it self-preservation,” you said coolly, even as anger rose in you. Her eyes flashed, mouth turning up at one corner, gone before you could fully register it. She knew what was brewing in you, even as you tried to hide it.

“Why are you fighting it?”

Aelin was good. Her questions and words threw you off, darting in different directions and testing different angels. A dormant part of you stirred, thrilled at the challenge.

“It’s not that easy.”

“We want you, you want us,” she countered. “That’s pretty simple to me.”

You shook your head.

“Is it what others think?” Aelin prompted, her expression told you she’d have choice words or flames for anyone who tried to judge.

“It’s not,” you admitted. She watched expectantly, waiting for you to explain.

In that moment, you realized something crucial. Aelin was fighting for you.

Embarrassingly, you burst into fucking tears.

Just as Aelin thought you might finally explain what the hell was going through your mind, just as she saw the cracks form, you started crying and they crumbled.

Without thinking, she instantly rose, making her way across the room, one eye on your cat. When she wasn’t attacked, she pressed herself against your side, arms wrapping around your shoulders and tugging you into her. Halle padded off, and maybe she needed more caffeine, because she could’ve sworn the cat disappeared into the shadows.

Was it something she said? The ‘coward’ comment was a bit harsh, and not entirely true, but she didn’t think that was it. These didn’t seem like tears of rage or sadness. Not knowing set her on edge, and all she wanted was to start pestering you for answers, but a semblance of awareness kept her mouth shut, and kept her arms around you. Right now, even with the mess, you were leaning into her, trusting her, letting yourself get whatever release this was, and she’d take it.

One arm around your shoulders, your head buried into her side, fingers running through your hair, she waited until the tears subsided, and then a while longer before speaking.

“What was that about?”

You hesitated, and she watched you weigh your answer.. She’d know if you were lying, and mentally begged for you to tell her the truth.

“I could be wrong,” you kept your voice barely above a whisper, “but it seems like you’re fighting for me.”

Her hand stilled, before she moved enough to see your face. Tears still staining your face, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, she’d never seen you look this vulnerable. “Of course I am.”

In that moment, Aelin realized something crucial. Rowan hadn’t fought for you, and whether you knew it or not it was still stuck in your subconscious, still keeping you from diving into this. This wasn’t simple, not at all, but she doubted she could get the two of you to come to a consensus by the end of the day. A truce. There needed to be some kind of middle ground, or mutual understanding - something to keep everything at bay for now.

“It’s not simple,” Aelin said, feeling more than hearing you stifle laughter. Ignoring the satisfaction currently rolling off you in waves, she continued “We want you, you want us,” you stiffened, but didn’t pull away. “There’s not enough time to figure this out today.” She ran her thumb back and forth over your shoulder, the fabric thin enough she felt the heat of your skin.

“There’s not,” you replied, slowly.

“What if we leave it at that, and promise to talk about it after the week is over?”

You were quiet, long enough she began to doubt herself. Gods, you might be the only person who could drag out this kind of uncertainty in her and she might start cursing you for it.

“Alright … just keep the territorial fae bullshit at bay.”

A genuine laugh came right from her chest. That second portion was definitely intended to reach Rowan’s ears, and she’d take great pleasure in relaying the message word for word. Messenger. Not a role she’d take on permanently, but she’d do it for now to keep the peace. Based on this morning’s interaction, Aelin got the sense it was better for you and Rowan to wait until after the week’s over to talk any of this through.

Arrangements had already been made for Ceri to stay in the castle throughout the week. You’d refused, and were grateful for it. Space was good, even if you’d come to some kind of understanding with Aelin. After the week, you wouldn’t just roll over on your belly for them. Nothing would bloom overnight, you’d take the time and test if it might actually work, and trust your gut. The three of you were immortal, time was plentiful

Rowan’s reaction - even if it was hot, even if you’d replayed the moment in your mind a few times, still pissed you off. The two of you needed time to cool your heads, to breathe, and Aelin had picked up on that. Ideally, it would’ve been just two or three days, but circumstances prevented that. Hopefully, your advisor role would keep you busy enough throughout the week to keep your mind off of them, or at least to provide a bit of distraction. Gods know you need that right now for your sanity..

You’d already told Ceri you’d see her tomorrow, and she’d gone off with Aelin and Rowan for ‘royal duties.’ You didn’t envy her.

Hands braced on your balcony, you saw the city bustling with excitement. After mid-day, several members of the foreign delegations took to the streets, and markets were in full bloom to sell their wares. You wondered if any of your items would make it into foreign hands. Shaking the thought, you debated whether or not you’d actually make the walk through the city.

The last thing you wanted right now was to run into anyone you might know from your past, and although you hadn’t spotted anyone last night, you’d been regretfully distracted.

Taking a few back passages, you made your way to a shadowed corner on the first floor before shifting. This was a risk on its own, especially if you ran into anyone from the southern continent, but, you’d move quicker this way.

Stretching, you tested out the form. It had been a while since you’d shifted. Maybe a week or two. Feline senses were sharper, emotions were clear and simple, and you embraced it.

Blending into the shadows, not a soul recognized you as you made your way through the city. Thanks to the strange magic, the normal half hour walk - likely closer to three quarters an hour with the crowd, took about ten minutes. You spent the rest of the day touching up on notes, rearranging your books, and mentally running through questions you might be asked, before falling into an uneasy sleep.

Day one, you were summoned twice.

Day two, the Court predicted you’d be called in several times - so you’d shown up at the castle to wait around. Better than making the walk back and forth. Sure enough, you were called into several that day, speaking to so many people your mind was frazzled by the end, and after a glass of wine you fell into an easy sleep.

Day three, you only came around midday to check in on Ceri, but an old face caught up with you.

“Y/n,” a gentle but firm voice called as you attempted to retreat down the hall. It was … familiar.

Pasting an ease-going smile on your face, you turned back to see Yrene Towers - now Yrene Westfall.

“Hello,” you called - the smile turning genuine. You wondered if she remembered you, and part of you hoped she didn’t. She’d delivered your child after all, and that had been traumatic enough to keep you from ever getting pregnant again. Fae births were notoriously difficult, and you were no exception.

Her husband was a few feet behind, eyeing you warily, as she closed the distance.

“You’re doing well,” she paused a few feet ahead. She did remember.

“Much thanks to you,” you admitted.

“I was quite junior back then,” her mouth turned up at the corner, and she cleared her throat. “I met your … cat, the other day.”

It was a lot of effort to keep yourself still, to keep your reactions schooled pleasant. “Halle.”

She smiled. “How did she end up here?”

Of course she’d know Halle was part baast-cat, and be curious about it. They rarely ever left the Torre library, as far as you knew, or mixed with other cats.

“She showed up one day.” The truth sounded quite ridiculous coming from your lips. Her brows rose. “It surprised me.”

She nodded, more to herself. At least she believed you.

“How do you find Terrasen?”

“I love it here, even with the weather.”

A laugh left her, and you found yourself smiling. You’d seen the healer several times when she still lived in Antica, and she was always kind. If you guessed correctly, you’d arrived around the same time.

“Years later, even Adarlan feels freezing.”

“Compared to Antica, everywhere is.”

You fell into easy conversation, reminiscence. It didn’t draw any homesickness for you. Maybe a desire to visit again, but not to move back there. Should it have? That was a question to ponder later. The longer the conversation went on, the more discomfort settled in you. The questions and direction turned more personal. Not too invasive, or rude by social standards, but you’d always been a particularly private person for a reason.

Footsteps, quiet your company didn’t notice, and your eyes flicked behind her, finding Aedion striding up the corridor, and he met your eyes, a brief nod.

“Y/n,” he called as he got closer. “You’re wanted.”

Teeth tugged at your bottom lip, fighting back a snarky remark. “It was good to see you,” you told her, nodding towards Chaol, and stepped around them, Aedion falling into step beside you.

“Wanted by who?” You waited until you were out of human hearing range.

“By many, I'm sure.” He grinned at your glare. “You just looked like you needed a rescue.”

Chuckling, you ran your hand down your face, relieved there wasn’t actually anyone requesting you, and grateful he’d shown up. “Thank you.”

“Everything alright?”

“Just a lot of questions,” you muttered.

Aedion snorted, “I thought you’d be used to that by now,” and ignored the jab of your elbow. Yes, you’d been grilled during every meeting, but that was different. Actually, you’d enjoyed it - sharing your knowledge. Personal questions were different.

Voices came, speaking Halha, nearly rounding the corner - several paces down but they’d see you in moments. Gods, that’s the last thing you need.

Aedion grabbed the crook of your elbow, shoving the two of you through a door you hadn’t seen, right into a servants passage. A hand over your mouth muffled your own squeak of surprise. He jerked his head, and you followed him - cobwebs in some of the corners. Apparently this one hadn’t been used in quite some time.

“I know this castle well,” he said, taking a left. “Not many use this passage anymore. Or know it exists.” Based on the thick layer of dust, it had probably been a few years since anyone walked through here. “I trust you to keep the secret,” a half-smile sent your way, over his shoulder.

It didn’t come out quite like a threat, maybe more of a warning. Not many know of it, and he’d like to keep it that way.

“I’ll keep it to myself,” you promised, but knew you’d be back to explore through them another time. Nothing about the promise said you couldn’t go back.

“I’m ready for this week to be over,” Aedion admitted, holding the door open for you, exiting close to one of the private gardens, right near the back of the castle.

“So am I,” you added absentmindedly. Not really, you really weren’t. The end of this week meant you’d be facing a different type of meeting - one you were still wholly unprepared for, despite writing lists of the things you want to say. The hardest part would be sticking to your boundaries, but with the help of your lists and maybe some liquid courage you could do it.

The week was nearly over before you knew it, the second to last day arrived and everything went too smoothly, and you felt like you were constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“May I speak with you?” A male with soft brown eyes, tanned skin, and light hair asked politely.

“Of course,” you tried not to grimace, the morning hadn’t gotten off to a great start. This was your job, after all, to answer any kind of questions that might pop up. He tilted his head to the side, motioning towards a more secluded area - a garden. Against better judgment, you followed. Once you were partially obscured from view, he stopped. Too hidden. The hair on the back of your neck rose.

He shifted from one foot to the other, glancing up at the sky. Annoyed, you pursed your lips - ready to ask what the fuck he wanted (you’d spilt your tea this morning and not had time to make another cup), but his mouth opened.

“You are quite difficult to find,” his smile wasn’t genuine, nor was the statement entirely true.

“I’m always here,” you countered, not bothering to hide the snappish tone You’ve been ‘on-call’ this entire week.

“Well, to find alone,” he corrected, both hands up in a placating gesture, “not in a creepy way, I promise.”

Bullshit. You’d bet gold he hoped that was a reassuring or disarming smile. His nostrils flared when you didn’t reply to him, didn’t assure him you found it perfectly normal - you didn’t, and placating a male wasn’t on your to-do list for the day.

“There’s an artifact we’re looking to track down, we could use your expertise.”

This quickly treaded into dangerous territory, and he had a glint in his eyes. The male was Akkadian, a nation that used to ally closely with Maeve. The fact that they had a delegation here, told you they weren’t a large threat to Terrasen, but everything about this situation felt wrong.

Every warning sense inside of you flared, telling you you shouldn’t be alone with him, shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t entertain this. Your magic subtly tested the area, and felt no-one familiar nearby. Fuck. You were capable on your own, but a likely centuries old Fae warrior was before you.

“I’m afraid that’s not in my skill set,” you said, “but I’d be happy to guide you towards some resources.”

“I thought it was in your blood,” his mouth curved into a half-smile - like he thought he’d trapped you somehow.“ I’d recognize one of you anywhere.”

Like an actor slipping into a role, you let puzzlement fill your features, “I beg your pardon?”

He pinned a look with you, like you were being annoyingly obtuse. He wasn’t wrong, but you wouldn’t let him get away with vague statements or threats.

“One of your ancestors' creations,” the way he said the word stiffened your spine, “is in circulation, causing some problems.”

“Consequences can pass through time and generations,” he said quietly, poking at the fire. “If someone seeks you out, asks you to find or create something, treat it with caution.” The words seemed to pain him. “Not all will have bad intentions, but even the best intentions can be skewed by greed.” He reached into his pack, flipping a dagger so the hilt faced you, and pressed it into your palm. You felt the magic immediately, and your jaw dropped. The runes and wyrdmarks were intricate. “Here’s a new lesson,” you perked up. “Take that, make it so only you can use it properly.”

“Thank you,” it was a gift - really, that he trusted you with the object.

“If you find another,” a creased but strong hand gripped yours tightly, you fought back a wince. “Promise me you’ll destroy it.”

Gripping the hilt tightly, feeling the magic flow again, a shiver ran down your spine and you swore an oath you would. Relief flooded his features.

Blinking back to the present, he had an expectant look on his face. Instinct told you he wanted this personally. If it was a state matter, there would’ve been others here to discuss it. Sure, you’d like more details, to ask more probing questions, but that would give you away. Right now, he was looking for confirmation and you couldn’t give that. A small thread tugged at you, a female voice whispering in your ear, leave.

“I don’t know what you’re speaking of,” not a lie - you really didn’t, “but as I said, I’d be happy to guide you towards some resources.” His lip curled back, but you didn’t give him a chance to reply. “I’m expected,” your voice was confident and firm. “Let me know if you’d like me to put some notes together.”

You stepped around him, striding as quickly as you could without running. Maybe you’d taken him by surprise, because several seconds passed before you heard footsteps following.

Taking a sharp turn, you shifted and melted into the shadows.

Weaving through corridors, you found no peace until you had eyes on Ceri, finding Halle already curled next to her, eyes alert. The clock struck noon, and you watched a few more seconds - taking notes of the guards in presence, the sense of danger and panic ebbing away, before heading to the meeting you were now late for.

Vastly out of character, you’d shown up a few minutes after the intended starting time. Others were late, of course, but as long as he’d known you you’d always been early. Face pale and drawn, Rowan knew something was wrong. Scanning you, there weren’t any physical injuries. You were avoiding his gaze, not that you’d done much looking at each other throughout the week, but now it felt especially pointed.

Someone drew you into conversation, and he watched as a mask slid into place, few others would notice something was actually wrong. He nearly snarled at Fenrys when he tapped his shoulder, but the other male jerked his head towards the meeting room. At least you’d be in this one, where he could keep a discreet eye on you.

“Make sure y/n doesn’t leave after, something’s wrong,” he told Fenrys under his breath, an order.

The male stiffened next to him, and nodded. He watched onyx eyes trail over to you, before narrowing. You two had an easy-going friendship, and Rowan knew Fenrys was protective over you, just as you were over him. He hated it, but Fenrys was the best person to find out what’s actually wrong.

taglist: @holb32 @fussel9913 @moonlightttfae @cassianswh0reeee, @reidishh, @shanias-world @fightmedraco @goldenmagnolias @hannzoaks @jennamelinda12 @daughterofthemoons-stuff

#rowaelin x reader #poly!rowaelin x reader #throne of glass fic #rowan whitethorn x reader #aelin galathynius x reader #rowaelin x y/n #poly!rowaelin x y/n #throne of glass x reader #rowan whitethorn x y/n #aelin galathynius x y/n

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shadowdaddies · 4 months

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can i please request rowaelin x reader, where reader has a secret store/secret house where she disappears once a day to and they have no idea. The house is filled with adopted pets, baby goats, kittens, puppies, all you can think of. She is their caregiver and is stressed one day when she’s stuck in a meeting and can’t leave to feed them. Reader decides to sneak out and is secretly followed by rowaelin who sees what she’s up to. They confront her and decide to open up a real shop together instead.

Puppy Love

poly!Rowaelin x Reader fluff

The orange glow of the dawning sun spilled upwards through the sky, shades of pink blurring like watercolor paint. The morning air was crisp as you breathed into your hands to warm them on your brisk walk towards the abandoned barn.

A wince escaped you as the hinges on the wooden door creaked, looking over your shoulder for any watchful eyes as you slipped into the building. A nip at your heel had you gasping in surprise, turning to find one of the puppies tugging on your shoelace. “Good morning,” you cooed, picking up the naughty pup. You giggled as the tiny beast wriggled in your arms, eager to play. “We’ll have to find out how you made it out of your pen,” you murmured to the puppy, giving its head a scratch as you walked over to the stall, smiling at the dogs as they yipped at you in greeting.

Gently placing the pup with his brothers and sisters, you turned to start feeding the rest of the animals. It was a challenge keeping up your makeshift home for these animals, but your heart swelled as you looked around at the sweet eyes of the puppies, the kittens, the ducks, and-

Hand to your chest, you attempted to catch your breath after the shock of the goats bleating. “Alright, alright. I’m getting your food,” you grumbled. It was too much work for one person to take care of all of these animals, but you couldn’t bear the thought of burdening your mates with anymore responsibilities. Aelin and Rowan had an entire kingdom to run - they didn’t need to worry about the stray animals you had adopted.

A rooster crowed in the distance, signaling to you that the sun had fully risen. In your hurry to finish feeding the animals before your mates awoke, you missed the sound of the door creaking open behind you.

A familiar, deep voice rumbled, “well what do we have here?” You whipped around to see Rowan smirking at you, arms crossed as he leaned next to the puppy pen where Aelin stood holding the same mischievous puppy from earlier.

Nearly dropping the pail of food for the ducks, you scrambled to find words. “Wh-what are you two doing here?”

Aelin held the puppy’s nose to hers, laughing as it tried to nip at her. “We’d been wondering where you were sneaking off to every morning.” Scoffing at the look of shock that crossed your face, Aelin asked, “did you think we didn’t notice?”

She shook her head, mirthful eyes tracking your reaction. “I will say, I wasn’t expecting a full animal rescue,” she admitted, gesturing to the barn full of creatures surrounding you. “Why would you keep this from us?”

Suddenly feeling ashamed, your shoulders caved in, cheeks flushed as you confessed everything. “I couldn’t bear the thought of burdening the two of you with anything else. I was going to tell you once I had figured out a solution of what to do with them.”

Rowan let out a rough laugh, his eyes searching the space as though he were taking a mental tally of every pet you had acquired. “And how many animals would you have acquired before you came to us for help?”

Noticing the defeat on your face, Rowan moved towards you, but stopped in his tracks as you held up a hand. “I thought I could do this one thing, on my own.”

Aelin set the puppy down, bounding towards you. She took your hands in hers, light shining in her beautiful eyes leaving you mesmerized. “I know you can do this on your own, but Rowan’s point is that you don’t have to. We’re your mates, you shouldn’t worry about burdening us with things like this. It’s what we are here for.”

Rowan nodded, his boots crunching against the hay on the ground as he moved slowly towards you. With a smile, you pulled him in, embracing the both of them. “Thank the gods, because I do need your help,” you admitted, a breathy laugh escaping your lips.

Pressing a kiss to your temple, Rowan pulled back as he surveyed the space once more. “Do you want to keep them all?”

Your eyes widened as you shook your head vehemently. “No, no - I don’t think so. As much as I love them, I would rather them find loving homes with people who can give them the attention they deserve.”

Rowan nodded his head. “I think we can find you a store front in town, then. We could hire some people to help out - make this much easier, so the weight isn’t all on you.”

You smiled appreciatively, reaching up to peck his cheek as Aelin disappeared from your side, only to return shortly with the pup from earlier. “Maybe... we keep this one? As a friend for Fleetfoot?”

Rowan groaned as you laughed and nodded, leaning down to scratch the dog’s ears as it licked your nose.

Rowan wrapped an arm around you, Aelin coming to lean against your opposite shoulder as she held her new puppy. “Let’s go get breakfast, and then we can go to town and get started on our new adoption center.”

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shallyne · 1 month

Text

I Was Reminiscing Just The Other Day

Another fic for @throneofglassmicrofics!! Thanks to my mom this time fore choosing the prompts: Hope and Luck.

Words: around 500

It's been four hours and Aelin was far from tired. When she had awoken that morning, the urge to go shopping in the shops of Orynth had overcome her. So naturally, she had dragged Rowan out of bed, baited him with the best coffee the city had to offer and went on her way. He had barely uttered more than 10 words until Aelin had pushed the coffee in his hands and although Rowan wasn't a very talkative person at all, it finally hadn't felt like she was talking to him in his hawk form, when he couldn't reply at all.

The weather mirrored Aelin’s mood, it was warm and the sun was shining brightly, no cloud in sight. She was just finishing the last of her chocolate croissant, happily humming to the tune of a street musician as she wiped crumbs from her blouse.

After being parted from her home for over a decade, this morning had felt the closest to normal since she took her place as the rightful Queen of Terrasen. The city was abuzz with life and laughter, bustling with her people.

A look to her right told her that Rowan was watching the city around him, too, with his second cup of coffee in one hand and her shopping bags in the other, and she would have thought he was trying to be alert for any danger if it wasn't for his expression. Calm. Serene. Full of wonder. And when three kids ran past them, only avoiding a crash because Rowan sidestepped him, he chuckled, his eyes shining brightly.

“What are you thinking about?” Aelin asked curiously.

Rowan turned his head towards her. He sighed and looked away, scanning the crowd they walked through. Aelin didn't expect he'd answer, giving him space with whatever he was thinking about, when he replied, “I'm thinking that we are very lucky to be able to walk these streets. Together.”

Aelin hadn't expected that answer, although she should have. Chuckling, she lightly punched his arm, “Are you getting soft with old age?”

Her mate rolled his green eyes, looking down on her with his grumpy fae male expression, “You're lucky I have my hands full or I'd help that attitude.”

Linking their arms together, she leaned closer and said silently, so only Rowan could hear, “If you check your attitude, maybe you will get lucky later.”

1:0 for Aelin, she thought when his eyes darkened, the words landing with their intended effect. She wriggled her eyebrows when his steps became slower.

“Let's get chocolate cake, then we go home.” she said.

“You just had a croissant.” Rowan complained.

Aelin shrugged, “You're never too full for chocolate cake.” she replied, taking his hand and pulling him into the next bakery.

She hadn't told him that he was right, that they were extremely lucky to walk these streets, to watch it being built up again after the war. That she could hear children's laughter in the streets, and music, that she had the privilege to shop with her mate.

Aelin had prayed for this.

She had hoped for this, and she was rewarded.

#throne of glass #tog #throne of glass microfics #rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin ashryver whitethorn galathynius #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass fan fiction #throne of glass fanfic #throne of glass fic #tog fanfiction #tog fan fiction #tog fanfic #tog fic #microfic

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danikamariewrites · 5 months

Note

Could I please make a request for 'Cadre part2' maybe some hurt/comfort were reader and Lorcan get into another fight and he says something that hurts the reader, so reader decides to ignore everyone the Cadre until he gives them a proper apology.

Not on Speaking Terms

Cadre x reader

A/n: please accept this peace offering until I’m in a smutty mood again. I’m so sorry for the wait on part 2, I genuinely feel bad bc you guys have been asking for more so I decided to get this one done tn ❤️❤️

Warnings: hurt/comfort poly relationship, and Lorcan being a dick

“I can’t with this right now Lorcan.” You growl out, stomping down the hall to your bedroom. “Yes, we’re doing this now!” His booming voice catching up with you as he jogged to catch up with you. “You’re being selfish and you aren’t listening to me.”

That made you stop dead in your tracks. He saw your shoulders stiffen as your back straightened. You quickly turned on your heel to face him with rage simmering in your eyes. “You did not just say that to me.” You growled.

After that exciting night in the war tent with the boys you all realized there was something more than sexual attraction. You truly love all of them and they love you. When you woke up in the middle of the night you found you had been moved to the bigger bed. You were still on Gavriel’s chest. As you blinked the tiredness from your eyes you found the rest of the males asleep next to you.

At breakfast the next morning Fenrys had shamelessly brought up the subject, wanting to clear the awkwardness from the group. The White Wolf winked at you as the conversation started. Since that morning you officially started dating Rowan, Gavriel, Fenrys, and Lorcan.

It was tough to make sure you spent an equal amount of time with each of them at first. They all tended to be jealous and territorial. Especially Lorcan. You knew he and Rowan had a history of having the same partner, but he wasn’t used to this. You and Lorcan got into little spats here and there when he wouldn’t listen to you or give you space when you needed it. Lorcan loves you so much and just wants to make you happy. He just has trouble with his emotions sometimes.

During training g this morning you and Lorcan got into one of those slats that somehow escalated when you were trying to explain to him why you aren’t doing anything with any of the boys today. The fact that Lorcan is calling you selfish while you continuously put off plans to be with him when he felt neglected is insane.

“Stay away from me.” You said before turning away to hurry to your room. You didn’t see Lorcan’s hurt expression from your harsh command. He didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. But if you wanted space Lorcan would let you have it.

You locked yourself in your own bedroom for the rest of the day. You didn’t even come out for dinner. A little after seven there was a knock on your door. “Y/n,” Fenrys calls out. You didn’t want to hear it. “Go away Fen!” Your tone left no room for argument. He sighed and shuffled away.

Rowan, who can always talk to you was shut out next. Even Gavriel. The most level headed one was turned away. But he wouldn’t give up. Gavriel came back to your room on the morning asking what happened. You whip the door open to find him with his arms crossed, an exasperated look on that gorgeous face. His tawny eyes sparkled with mischief. His face quickly fell when he noticed your puffy eyes and red cheeks.

“What?” Your voice monotone. Gavriel clears his throat trying to not let your attitude throw him off. “I wanted to talk to you about yesterday. Lorcan didn’t give us the full story and I want to help you two-“ “No.” you cut him off. You knew where this was going. Gavriel wanted to help you two come to a compromise so you could fix whatever has happened between you. Not this time.

“That’s not how it’s going to work this time. Until Lorcan can be a big boy and have a conversation with me himself I’m not speaking to any of you. The male is 400 years old.” You slam the door in Gavriel’s face so hard his hair flys back.

Lorcan feels guilty. He really does, but he hates admitting he’s wrong. Gavriel and Rowan told him he’s on his own and that you were right, he needs to start fixing problems with you on his own or Lorcan wouldn’t have you any more.

It took all day for Lorcan to rehearse what he is going to say to you. Fenrys laughed when he caught Lorcan talking to himself in the mirror. But the pup did give good advice, “Go with what your heart tells you. Not what you can come up with in your mind, it isn’t authentic.” When the hell did Fenrys get so wise, he thought to himself.

Taking a deep breath, Lorcan collects himself and lightly knocks on your door. “Who is it?” You call out. “It’s me, can I come in sweetheart.” He hears you groan along with the blankets shuffling as you roll over. Lorcan contained his annoyance and entered your room. You let out another loud groan and pull the blankets over your head. Lorcan makes his way over to the bed. When he sits the mattress dips a noticeably amount thanks to his large body.

“Can we talk?” He asks softly, resting a hand on your calf. “Fine.” You sit up letting the blankets fall off leaving your hair a frizzy mess. Lorcan huffs out a quiet laugh, a small smirk pulling at his lips as he reaches out to smooth out your hair. “I’m sorry I called you selfish. I was just…I didn’t understand that you needed space.”

“It’s not just my space. I just wanted you to understand that I give up a lot when you ask for me. I love you Lorcan, and I don’t want us to keep having these fights.” Lorcan cups your face and you lean into his touch. “I promise I’ll work on it. I love you sweetheart.” He leans forward kissing your forehead. “Goodnight, I’ll let you get some sleep.”

He stands ruffling your already messy hair a little. You grab his hand and pull Lorcan back to your bed. “Wait. I’ve been alone too long and I miss you guys. Can we all sleep together?” Lorcan gave you the biggest smile you’d ever seen from him. He quickly scooped you up, throwing you over his shoulder. You giggle as he runs down the hall to your shared room with the boys.

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shadowhandss60 · 2 months

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Throne of Glass Hockey AU:

Dorian and Chaol

AC: @badeyart commisioned by me

#throne of glass #dorian havilliard #chaol westfall x dorian havilliard #chaol westfall #chaolorian #chaol x dorian #dorian x chaol #hockey au #fanart #throne of glass fanart #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass fic #books #commisions #art commisions

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saphirered · 7 months

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Caged Birds Don't Sing

As promised Part 2 of this Fenrys x reader request! We're getting more angst but what do you expect from enemies to lovers? Hope you like it! 😘

You stood at her side. You stood at Maeve’s damned side on that beach. Of course she would have you stand there. You would look down upon them. Fenrys expected indifference if not betrayal for their disobedience, or perhaps satisfaction that they’d be punished for their actions. He expected you to laugh at Gavriel’s pain, to speak to them, tear at open wounds but you were silent. You made no move. He deigned to look at you, if only to assure you wouldn’t pounce at the first opportunity. He would have been ready to rip your throat out. He might not have thought twice about it had Maeve severed his bond too but she knew his greatest torment would be to keep it in place. It’s in that image he notices your throat, how it’s tense and how you swallow, how your breathing is higher than it should be. He notices something behind that eternal gaze into oblivion and he realises, you are not the fae he holds in his memory. You are in pain. You’re in turmoil and you’re fighting so desperately to keep in place whatever facade you’ve put on.

You’ve never looked away from the abuse Maeve put them through but this time, you turn your gaze and bite the inside of your cheek. You clasp your hands together to keep the trembles from them or perhaps to stop yourself from taking reckless action. When you force yourself to look, when Aelin accepts her fate, you keep your eyes on her. Behind that surface mask so cracked and broken, one can see the pain, the guilt and regret and sense of failure. You mouth the words ‘I am sorry’ for none but them to see, for those who pay attention. The porcelain mask no longer remains in its perfect state. Everyone knows what Maeve does to broken dolls.

————

When the screams have gone quiet and no longer echo through the halls of Doranelle Fenrys lays at the base of that damned throne. The clicking of footsteps against those damned floors are both blessing and curse. Blessing as a reminder he isn’t dreaming. A curse for who’s presence they announce. They stop not too far away. He knows exactly where you are even if he can’t bear to lift his head.

“You summoned me, my queen?” Ever eloquently you speak but there’s a rasp to your voice he’s not heard before. It peaks enough of his interest to try and get a better look and blinking an eye open is enough to reveal the bruised marks around your neck. It’d been weeks since your altercation and you bore no marks of that. Whoever dared lay a hand on you, Maeve must want to deal with. He expected some kind of doting from the queen but found none.

“You have served me well, my little pet. For many years I have kept you at my side. My most loyal of servants.” Maeve rises and slowly crosses the difference. She steps around Fenrys as if he’s no more than an inconvenient obstacle. “You’ve protected them for many years but finally you’ve given in. Know that it is your sacrifice that keeps them alive. For now. You’ve earned my mercy.” Maeve dances a sharp nail under your chin and lifts your head. She tuts at the marred skin as you bite back the discomfort when she lets her fingers glide against the tender bruises.

“My allegiance has never wavered. I thank you for your benevolence.” Such carefully chosen words. When she retreats her touch you bow your head like some loyal subject. Maeve circles you but you keep your eyes front, not daring to turn and face her out of habit.

“Your allegiance comes with a reward no less. After all these decades you’ve deserved as much.” She stops behind you and you fear the repercussions for a brief second. You see the broken and bloodied fae at the footsteps of that dais. He’s staring right at you. You cannot look away from him. At least he’s alive. At least he has allies that can help him. At least he can stay with Aelin. He might not know your involvement in all of this and he might never know, but that is your punishment for all those years you turned a blind eye to them, to him. You don’t deserve forgiveness for your actions nor do you want it. You just hope it was worth it, will be worth it. It’s then you feel something cold slip around your neck and dangle against your chest. A pendant on a chain. Your blood freezes in your veins. You freeze.

The pendant, the chain, you can still see the remnants of dried blood staining it. Murder enters your heart and it shatters. You want to scream and shout and cry but you don’t. You school your features blank and manage to hold yourself together as you hold the pendant. Maeve circles back around, back up the stairs and leisurely sits on her throne. She grasps the armrests lightly.

“Let this be the price of your broken silence.” She promised you. She promised they’d be safe. You’d given it all. All those decades you’ve suffered through and she destroyed all you cared about. You played a dangerous game and you lost. You truly lost. You’d saved the victims of your actions but condemned the ones who lived thanks to your silence. Maeve takes great joy in watching you struggle to hold yourself together.

“You have no idea how much this gift means to me, my most gracious queen.” Fenrys doesn’t know if it’s your injured throat or those cracks he’s noticing once more. He almost feels sorry for you, for whatever is causing this and for what Maeve clearly holds over you. You were all too selective in your words and he has not the strength to figure it out, dancing along the line of consciousness but he makes a mental note of it anyway should his mind think it important enough to pick apart.

“Take him out of my sight and clean up his mess. I want him back in shape by next morrow.” You miss a beat but with one last bow you are at Fenrys’ side. He tries to lift himself but is unable to despite his first instinct to refuse your help and protest. At least he can take some modicum of satisfaction in the knowledge he will bleed all over your pristine attire. With difficulty you support him and drag him out of the throne room. It seems that the moment those doors close behind each step is more difficult than the last. He notes that you’re not even entirely sure where you’re going, not aware of your surroundings and when he looks at your face Fenrys sees something he has never seen before; silent tears streaming down your cheeks. You can’t seem to stop them. You make no sound but still you cry. Those are the tears of someone who has only been able to express those feelings in complete solitude. Despite his feelings and opinions towards you, he finds it within himself holding some kind of remorse, of pity.

You take him to an unfamiliar room. You don’t speak a single word. Neither does he. You follow orders; get some rags, clean his skin and take care of the injuries he sustained to speed up the healing process. Your touch is deliberate and practiced. You have the supplies at the ready. You’re no healer, he’s fairly certain an it’s then he notes the faint smell from you matching that of one of the ointments you set aside. The more you care for him, the further within your shell you retreat, as if you’re not but an animated body but your mind and soul have left. The way you move, like this is regular routine, it makes him wonder if this is habit. It must be. You’ve done this perhaps a thousand times before but likely never for another… Perhaps you have faced your own suffering at Maeve’s hand. Your loyalty was never to Maeve. It was to whomever that pendant belonged to- the sacrifice you had made and for what? Why now? Fenrys has many questions he cannot answer.

“What did you do?” Fenrys croaks when you tie the last bandage and collect the mess to be disposed of. You freeze in your movement. You don’t look him in the eye. You don’t look at him at all. You are just curled within yourself; your shoulders slumped, and limbs heavy, your brow furrowed and still the occasional tear rolls down your cheek.

“Why do you care?” You shoot back out of instinct. Your defences still sharp. If anything you remind Fenrys of an injured animal, lashing out at any who dare come to close. It seems you remember you’re the one that brought him into your lair.

“I don’t but I’d rather like to know if I’ll be cleaning up your mess next time.” You know what he insinuates. He’s gathered you’ve fallen out of favour with Maeve and she has been known to get rid of those no longer of use to her in a manifold of creative ways. It’s a shame you still hold some value to her and she won’t let you go until she’s absolutely sure you have nothing left to offer her. She knows that even still, you haven’t shared all you had to share. You’ve kept the most important information to yourself for a reason and right now your heart is filled with enough hatred and recklessness to play the long game no matter the costs. Not like you have anything left to lose.

“I sacrificed what leverage I had to spare others from bloodshed, to buy them more time.” You speak solemnly. The first words you’d said since all but dragging him out of the throne room. You truly are in pain. Though besides your bruises you seem fine and some bruising has never bothered you much before as far as Fenrys knows, the pain you feel is the world-shattering kind and he’s noted the blood on that pendant isn’t his. The way you hold onto it, it’s important to you. Out of all the jewels you adorn it is the most precious. He begins to piece it together. Those golden bracelets are chains in their own way.

“Clearly that did fuck all.” Fenrys appears to have found his attitude again. You’re just too exhausted to face off with him. You can’t. You’re done. You’ve lost it all and for what? It was a failure in the end. You want this pain to stop, this carnage from tearing you apart from the inside but here he is claws and all tearing into you. As he deserves for all the pain you’ve caused him.

“She would have made you kill each other. She would have made the others watch before disposing of the disobedient ones.” He understands well enough the implications of your words. His blood might as well have frozen in his veins.

“And you can’t even speak our names- their names. Why? Why risk it all for the people you’ve been looking down upon ever since you’ve met them? Why give up your precious little life to save us? Should we forever be in your debt?” Once more his anger is directed towards you. It felt so good in the past. He simply feels horrible about it now, especially when he sees you clutch that pendant so tightly he thinks you might crush the metal with your bare hands.

“Because you don’t deserve to be a casualty to my silence.”

“We have all been casualties of your silence! What’s changed, sunshine? You grew a conscious? Get lost. You wouldn’t know right from wrong if it stared you right in the face.” He expected you to lash out against him, to seek out the confrontation but with each word he speaks you just look smaller and smaller. There’s no satisfaction. There’s no pleasure in tearing into you. Fenrys once thought that seeing you show remorse, any kind of guilt and recompense for your actions, or lack thereof would make him feel justified, make him feel validated, make him feel good. It didn’t. He just feels horrible. He feels his blood truly grow colder than the depths of winter and so his features blank. No more is there the fury. There’s only a chill silence and lack of any sensation. It’s terrifying. He catches a glimpse of himself in your mirror and sees a reflection eerily similar to the expression he’s seen you wear more often than not. Just the absence of emotion, of the attachment to this world.

“You’re right. Fenrys. You’re right and I’m sorry.” Once upon a time he would have cheered and laughed at you admitting your wrongs, your defeat. He doesn’t feel anything now. You’re just some broken bird that can no longer sing those lovely songs. You’re just as broken as he is.

#fenrys x reader #throne of glass fenrys #throne of glass x reader #throne of glass #throne of glass fic #fenrys moonbeam #throne of glass fanfiction #tog x reader #kingdom of ash

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