#tog drabbles
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Take it easy with me, please
In lieu of the New Year drabble I haven't finished, here is a Joe x Nicky slice of life drabble where the title inexplicably comes from ABBA. Taken from this prompt list: cooking together
“I love you more than life itself, but fuck off”
Joe snorted on a laugh, a hand coming up to cover one of Nicky’s that is cradling his face. It’s a line he’s heard from his beloved’s mouth so many times before. He remembers it from the first argument, proper argument, that they’d had since they’d become lovers. And so many others since. Probably none more than this.
“But I want to help” he insists.
Nicky’s lovely eyes kindle warmly, mouth ticking up in one corner the way it does when he’s trying not to laugh. Joe knows no map better than he does Nicolo di Genova’s face.
“I know you do, hayati. And I love you for that. But this,” Nicky gestures behind them, “is not what one would call helping”
Joe plays along, mouth dropping into an enquiring ‘o’, eyebrows raising. “What would ‘one’ call it, tesoro?”
“Getting in my fucking way”
Joe can’t hold back anymore, he ruptures into laughter. Abandons the pots and pans he'd been starting to wash to pull Nicky into a soapy kiss. They both get lost in it a little, while the others are in the other room. They pull at each other, hair and shirts. Nicky bites at Joe’s plush lower lip, the way he’s wont to. Joe’s hands slip under Nicky’s t-shirt, the hem pulled free from the constricting ties of his apron up to press at Nicky’s shoulder blades, leave marks that will fade a split second after they’re made.
Nicolo is a tolerant man but if there is one thing he cannot stand, it is someone trying to help him cook.
Joe pulls away first, delighting in the way Nicky chases his mouth, at having made him forget the holds of life, beyond love and desire. Many a pot has bubbled over because of Joe and he holds each time a personal success.
“Should I disappear from your sight?” Joe asks with a contented sigh, patting Nicky on the chest, smoothing a non-existent rumple from the fabric of his t-shirt.
Nicky smiles, that gorgeous, rakish grin that Joe loves best. “Another hour would be perfect”
When Nicky is in the kitchen, it is to be himself, his ingredients and the battered old radio crooning terrible love songs The rest of them are expected to involve themselves only if they want a glass of water or to have a spoon shoved under their nose to check the seasoning.
“I’ll just-“ Joe reaches over to the corner of the worktop, where his hoodie sits beside the eggs and the other groceries not yet put away, “get out of your way”
He winces when he hears the tiny crackle of the bag of Doritos under the fabric, even as he carefully off-sets the weight of the jar of salsa in the right hand inner pocket. Joe was so the wrong person for this job. He knew he should have gone with paper over scissors.
He’d be sent to do recon, because they were, with all the love in the world, starving. Another hour. Quynh already had Domino’s on speed dial. It’s not that they won’t eat what Nicky’s so lovingly cooking – he always relishes his turn to cook – especially now that they are all together once more. They will savour it. It’s just that like so many things with immortality; their healing, refractory periods, hair growth – they burn a lot of calories and coming back to life is hungry work. They put Hobbits to shame with the size of their second breakfasts and elevenses. Brunch as well as lunch, supper after dinner.
Hence the crisps and dip. Nile had pleaded. Begged.
Joe holds his breath as he looks up from under his lashes at Nicky. His beloved is singing away under his breath, swaying his shoulders as he bangs the wooden spoon on the lip of the saucepan.
He gathers the hoodie tighter, to stop the bag falling out by a loose corner. Another treacherous crinkle of the paper. Fuck. What did they make these bags of anyway?
Turning as nonchalantly as he can, Joe starts to walk towards the door. Then, as it comes over the radio he sings along, "Take your time, make it slow"
Nicky remains, a smile slipping over his face as he stands by the stove, as he too sings along under his breath. Joe can barely believe it when he gets away with it, slipping out and just as casually pushing the kitchen door to before haring up the rickety stairs as quickly as his feet can carry him.
“Make your fingers soft and light,” Nicky huffs on a laugh as he stirs the casserole, listening to Yusuf make off with ill-gotten gains, reaching into the pocket of his apron. “Let your body be the velvet of the night,” the half eaten brownie he’d cut from the tray is a little squashed from being in his pocket when Joe embraced him, but Nicky wouldn’t have it any other way. “Touch my soul, you know how” he warbles, savouring the gooey chocolate, “Andante, Andante
Andante, Andante, go slowly with me now”
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Hi! When you look for inspo, would you like to write a tog drabble with "stare", "star" and "storm", please? (Related to the S-word list). Thank youu! 🌌
thanks for sending this in!!! I really wanted to try my hand at nestaq, hope that’s okay!
...
There is a storm raging across her mind.
It is something akin to fear. Fear and panic as it rolls through her. It is unyielding. But there is no escape. Of course there isn’t, because that would be too easy. And storms, they never break when you need or want them to. They continue. They persist. They consume.
And Nesryn Faliq is in the worst of it.
She has tried to control it. Tried to withstand it. Tried so many times to accept it.
But sometimes her family is too loud, too intense. Too many things that she can’t handle not right now. Because all she can see is the way her father is shaking his head while her mother covers her eyes in dismay. And her sister lay blame.
It only fuels the shame already burning up inside of her. Shame at herself for thinking she could do something different than what her family expects. Shame for thinking beyond what exists right now.
And that's how she ends up laying on a park bench, staring up into the endless sea of stars. It’s her need to escape. Her need to find peace. Her need to maybe quiet the storm in her mind. So she’s here, running away because that’s what she is good at.
“What are you doing?”
She shouldn't be surprised at the voice, as recognizable as her own. And she shouldn’t be surprised that this is how he's found her. Shouldn't be surprised that he's here at all. She glances up to find Sartaq standing just a few feet off.
Her best friend with his usual ease and grace looks a bit ruffled. His hair is in a low tail and his flannel is a little wrinkled like he grabbed from a pile of the floor.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” she asks. “I am staring into the void.”
He snorts an unamused laugh and grabs her feet to move them so he can sit. Resting her feet in his lap, Sartaq says nothing and only lets her continue staring.
She doesn’t realize what a comfort it is to have him there until her mind slowly quiets. Until she can finally hear beyond the cruel echoes that are playing back at her from her family.
After a while Sartaq finally clears his throat. “I know you like to live a bit dangerously, Ryn, but coming out here in the middle of the night?”
“I didn’t ask you to come,” Nesryn replies. “Delara shouldn’t have texted you.”
She knows without him saying that her sister meddled. Because Nesryn is a child compared to her sister. She’s eighteen and ready to move on to college, to have something different than the family bakery. It’s because of Nesryn’s radical choice that Delara has concluded she’s only throwing a tantrum and doesn’t really know what she wants.
“I wanted to come,” Sartaq says. “I know what it meant to tell your family.”
He gives her calf a squeeze to let her know that he’s there, that he really does know what she went through in the decision process and actually making the choice to leave Balruhn.
“You’ll kick ass in Adarlan, Ryn,” Sartaq continues. “Even if they don’t see or understand why you need to do this.”
She presses her fingers into her eyes.
“You don’t need anyone but yourself.”
“You're just a shameless flirt, Taq,” she tells him as she finally sits up, crossing her legs beneath her on the bench. She’s close enough to Sartaq that she can feel the heat radiating off of him, smell his subtle scent of cedar and sun.
“Only with you Ryn,” he says. His smile is soft, kind. Not garish and broad when she knows he’s laying it on thick. But this, this is intimate. It’s careful.
So, Nesryn leans against him and lets that raging storm of her mind slow down with him.
#nesryn faliq#sartaq#throne of glass#nestaq#drabbles#tog#fanfiction#fic#tog drabbles#nestaq drabbles
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Fenrys x Reader
You watched Rowan leap in between Aelin and Skull’s Bay, her eyes went wide. A heartbeat later she swung her arm away from him. Instincts bleating, you reacted, screaming for your men to MOVE. You lunged for the crew you had stationed near the young queen. The blast sounded, the shouting and splitting wood barely registered as you grabbed the nearest pirate and yanked him past you. The force of the eruption launched your body into the air.
You felt the searing pain in your leg before you hit the water. Your body tumbled in the chaos as you flung your arms around, trying to gain your bearings. You clenched your fists, the water around you steadied, allowing you to claw your way up to the surface. Fighting to get air in your lungs as you took in the destruction around you. Three Valg ships remained, and the Sea Dragon was reduced to rubble, floating on the waves. A breath of relief rushed out when you noticed most of your men survived, Rolfe hauling them onto Lysandra’s scaled back on the far side of the ruined ship.
A head of silver hair flashed in the corner of your eye. Rowan was cutting through the water, aiming for a reef not too far off. Remembering the sea wyverns, you swam for it too. Clamping your teeth on your lip as you paddled for the reef, the pain in your leg bellowed, slowing you down. The magic escaped your grasp as you tried to get the water to push you forward. Have you really run out already? It seemed too soon to be depleted, but this damn magic stuff was hard. You had to learn how to control it, clearly teaching yourself hasn’t worked.
Strong, calloused hands gripped your shoulder. “Grab on to me,” Gavriel, the lion shifter, on your left.
“I know how to swim, go help someone who needs it.” You ordered.
“You need it. You aren’t moving fast enough with that leg,” He pulled your arm around his shoulders, “Hold on.”
Pride stinging, you obeyed and held on to him as he swam toward his friend.
Rowan kept scanning the sea, even as he crouched to help pull you up onto the reef. Gavriel followed less than a moment later. You bit back a scream as you put weight on your leg. The sound broke free when you looked down to see a splinter of wood the size of your foot sticking out of your thigh. Rowan snapped his arms out to steady you as you teetered, his eyes never leaving the bay.
“I have to pull it out to heal it.” Gavriel’s calming but urgent tone drew your eyes away from the injury and to his tawny ones. You nodded.
Rowan muttered a thank you to the gods as he spotted Fenrys and Aelin making their way towards the reef, but still a ways out.
“Rowan,” He turned to the golden haired man at the firm tone. They stared at each other. Rowan’s chin dipped once, confirming something from their silent conversation. He wrapped one arm around your middle a heartbeat before Gavriel yanked the splinter out. The leg holding all your weight buckled, the prince behind you keeping you upright. The warrior in front of you gripped your thigh with his glowing hands, your blood coating them as he began to quickly heal your wound.
Adrenaline sparkled in your veins from the chaos. Aelin and Fenrys were swimming closer. The latter had been his magic to leap further, but they still weren’t close enough. Shifting your weight to your good leg, you tapped Rowan’s tattooed arm twice and told him to go. He dove into the water without hesitation and began swimming towards the female.
You squatted down to offer a hand and haul Aelin up. Gavriel’s grip on your thigh kept you from toppling over, though the pain surging in your thigh had black spots dancing in your vision. Rowan and Fenrys hauled themselves up, the prince immediately scanning Aelin for any injury. She waved him off with a hand.
Fenrys bent over, panting with his hands on his knees, and said to no one in particular, “I’m out.” Rowan gave him a single sharp nod.
“I’ll need to work on it again later, but you’re good for now,” Gavriel said as he rinsed his hands in the sea. You nodded your thanks and tested your weight on it. Still tender, you’d likely have a limp for a while, but not at risk of bleeding out. You’d take it.
Fenrys slowly straightened, his hands moving to support his lower back as he took a deep breath, “Don’t you have water magic? Shouldn’t you be able to heal yourself with the water and healing magic tendencies?”
“Pirates aren’t exactly flush with magic tutors. Self taught, and shit’s harder than it looks. For lack of a better term, water magic is slippery, I can’t get a good enough grip on it to control it like that.”
The male smirked and opened his mouth to reply but a loud crash and roar had everyone’s attention snapping to it. Lysandra was facing off against two sea wyverns.
After the shifter killed the two beasts, a collective stomach drop could almost be heard as three full grown sea wyverns came to avenge their young. Lysandra, Dorian and Aedion defeated them in the most incredible battle you had ever witnessed. Fenrys had to steady you with a hand on your elbow as the battle raged - your adrenaline ebbing, the pain in your leg became more prevalent. As soon as Lysandra headed towards the shore, your group on the reef dove for the beach. Aedion was already with Lysandra when you all arrived. Fenrys and Gavriel halted by the tree line while Aelin surged forward, the silver prince on her heels. You stopped somewhere in the middle, giving them space.
“What happened?” Aedion asked, eyes trained on his cousin, “What the hell happened out there?”
“I’d also like to know what the hell that was!” You echoed, limping closer.
“Now is not the time.” Rowan snapped, looking at both you and the general, his green eyes lingering on Aedion.
Your temper surged, “No? When would be the proper time for me to be angry about the lives of my men? Give me a timeframe, you godsdamn bastard!” The terror of the battle wearing off, giving way to your fury at what happened on that ship. Attempting to stomp through the sand to Aelin, your limp hindering the threat you tried to present.
Fenrys cut off your path with little effort and growled in warning, your blood reaching a boiling point at the sound.
Through your gritted teeth, you snarled right back, “Keep growling, dog, and your pelt will be the new rug in my cabin.”
“Enough.” Gavriel commanded, the growling ceased but your eyes stayed locked on the onyx ones. The shimmering you saw in them was enough to reignite the rage you were trying to stuff down.
You lunged at him, hands raised to wrap around his throat, but faltered when you had to balance on your bad leg. His hands that flung out to grip your wrists doing as much to hold you up as they did to keep your hands off his neck.
Wrenching them back, you turned back towards the scene on the beach.
“I’ll stay,” Aedion said. “You deal with Rolfe.”
Aelin and Rowan headed off to do as much, Aedion remained by the shifter’s side. You heard Gavriel offer to grab supplies and stay with them. Having no desire to hang around the awkward family reunion, you hobbled back to town.
Fenrys followed a few steps behind you, though he could have easily made it back to his lodgings without your pace slowing him down.
“I’m perfectly capable of walking back to town by myself,” You gritted, keeping your focus ahead of you.
“Oh I’m sure, but Gavriel will never let me hear the end of it if I left you to stumble home alone.”
“Leash a little tight, pup?”
He chuckled, “Another dog joke? I gave you too much credit, thinking you were far more clever than you clearly are.”
“Think of me often, do you?”
“Darling, I only think of you often enough to picture besting you when sparring, I delight in your anger.” The male now walking by your side.
“If you wanted to challenge me so badly, you could have just asked. I’d love the chance to filet you.” Your smile edged with distaste. “I’ll meet you at dawn in the courtyard.” You batted your lashes.
“Not unless you’re fully healed. It will be too easy with the injury, I want it to last longer than a minute.”
You chuckled, “Don’t have much experience holding out?”
Fenrys started just a fraction, blinking before a smirk grew on his face. “No complaints in my immortal, indulgent life.”
You rolled your eyes, sidestepping the glint in his eyes at the turn in conversation. “I’d argue that this injury would put us on equal footing.”
“You do realize I’m a fae warrior with over a hundred years of battle experience, right?” His golden brows rose.
You glanced sidelong at him, one brow cocked, “And I’m just a stupid little half-breed with less than ten years of training from pirates, right?”
“That’s not what I meant,” Fenrys blurted, halting and facing you.
You shrugged, “It’s ok, it’s more fun when you underestimate me anyway. Makes the victory even more…” You trailed off, turning your head to him. You cocked your head, akin to a predator assessing prey. Your purposefully half lidded eyes met his before sliding down to his lips. A subtle, almost subconscious darting of your tongue to the corner of your lips, delicately swiping just a little over your top lip. Driving it home with a hitch in your breath, gazing into his eyes again, you breathed, “Delicious.”
Fenrys stood impossibly still, but the smallest catch in his breath and the change in his scent gave it away.
You laughed and faced forward again, “Too easy.” You silently swore as your thigh burned, slowing your exit.
“Alright, I’ll concede that one. Looking forward to paying it back, honey,” He drawled, three strides putting him back on pace with you again.
“You’re gonna have to work a lot harder to gain my interest, mutt.”
Fenrys grinned. “Interest? No, I meant the upperhand.” You rolled your eyes.
A block and a half, a few more snide remarks and you stood in front of your meager lodgings. Barely more than a bedroom, bathing room and kitchen, but it served its purpose when you were in between sailings. If he had any thoughts on the building, Fenrys thankfully didn’t share them.
“Ok, you saw me home. Shoo,” You waved a hand at him.
He looked up at the second level window. “Can you manage the stairs?”
Eyes closed, you sighed, “I’ve done far more with far worse. Now leave.”
Fenrys shrugged, and walked away. He half turned his head, still walking, “Ocean Rose courtyard, an hour before dawn. Gavriel can fix up your leg before we start swinging.” You grunted and headed into the building. Prick.
#fenrys moonbeam#fenrys x reader#fenrys moonbeam x reader#tog#throne of glass#tog imagines#throne of glass x reader#tog ff#imagines#drabbles#fenrys drabble#reader insert
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hey i was wondering if u could write something where rowan and aelin have a daughter and she’s dating someone and how they would react.
reasonable situation
Summary: Rowan figures out another secret.
Warnings: none, not proofread
A/N: thank you for the request! next gen is fun to write
She came home late that night, and heavily covered in a perfume Aelin didn’t recognize. She crinkled her nose slightly at the scent, but if that’s what she wanted to use … but why would it be so heavy? They’ve never had a problem with her drinking, only telling her not to do anything too stupid.
Rowan figured it out first. “So … who have you been seeing?”
Her face turned bright red.
Aelin cast a sharp glance to her mate, about to tell him off but, a small gust of wind blew her hair to the side, revealing a small bruise. Aelin fought down the protectiveness in her - seeing her daughter with an injury, that’s what her senses saw it as, but managed to cool herself enough to not launch into rage.
She huffed, “It’s none of your business.”
“What’s their name?” He asked mildly. She hesitated, knowing a group of Fae males might track him down and threaten him within an inch of his life.
“It’s none of your business.” She snapped.
“I’d say it is,” Rowan leaned back, crossing his arms.
Aelin sighed. He was much more protective of her than she was, to the point where she’d had to tell him off a few times and knock some sense into him.
“Tell me a name.” Rowan asked again. Gods forbid if Aedion and Fenrys figured this out too, they’d managed to track him down. “I already have their scent.”
Her daughter crossed her arms, widening her stance. “Leave them alone.” She snarled.
Aelin interjected, “If they so much as lays a finger on you, I’ll burn them to ash.”
“I know, I know.” She grumbled, flopping down next to her. “Just leave it for now, please.” Rowan’s mouth opened, ready to tell her absolutely not, but she spoke before he could. “If I want you to meet them, I’ll tell you. Don’t you trust my judgment? I’m capable of defending myself.”
Rowan’s lips pressed into a tight line, before giving her a nod.
She seemed satisfied, but Aelin knew Rowan’s going to track him down anyway, probably bring Aedion and Fenrys when they figure it out.
Just swear them to secrecy over it. She spoke directly into his mind. He cut her a look. Or she’ll be pissed. She added.
Her daughter had inherited her temper, for better or worse, and Rowan gave her a subtle nod.
Then again, Aelin might join him when he does - it’s been a while since she’s been able to strike fear into anyone and this is a reasonable situation.
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500 words or less prompt: Elide walks in on Lorcan taking a bubble bath. There are candles.
A/N: There's something about fluff in a bathtub that just...gets to me. I hope you enjoy!
It was dark when Elide got home.
She had promised to be home hours ago but had to stay late at the bar. Her replacement had been running behind, their car battery dying, which led to Elide's early night off becoming just the same as every other night.
She came into the kitchen through the garage, seeing a cleaned plate on the counter. After looking in the fridge, she saw that Lorcan had made her a plate and set it in there after it was clear she wasn't coming home any time soon.
"Lor?"
He didn't answer.
The house was dark and silent, but his truck was in the garage so she knew he was home. After slipping off her shoes and hanging her keys on the hook, Elide made her way through the house. A candle was burning in the living room, and the t.v. was on but paused, halfway through a movie that Lorcan had apparently been watching.
"Lor?" she called again, in a sing-song voice. There was still no response as she began making her way upstairs. The house was old, each step creaking as she walked up the stairs. They'd gotten it cheap, as a fixer upper, and it was now the epitome of comfy and cozy.
As she made her way down the hallway, the softest of relaxing music filled the space.
Suddenly, Elide knew exactly where she would find him.
Through the master bedroom, Elide gently pushed open the door to the master bathroom and chuckled at the sight of Lorcan. His massive frame was submerged beneath a heap of bubbles in the tub. It smelled like lavender and vanilla; candles were strewn all around the bathroom. Soft, Celtic music played. Lorcan's eyes were shut.
Seeming to sense her presence, he said, "It's been a long day."
"People piss you off?"
"People always piss me off."
"Do I need to kick someone's ass?" Elide offered, still keeping her voice quiet.
Lorcan chuckled as he opened his eyes and looked at his wife. "I'll never say no to that. You're late."
She frowned. "I know. My replacement ran late. I saw my dinner in the fridge. Thank you."
He nodded, his eyes soft. He was clearly exhausted. "If you can wait to eat..." He gestured for her to join him.
Elide suppressed her grin. Lorcan was not a small man, but in contrast, Elide was a small woman. Even if he took up eighty percent of the tub, Elide only took up the other twenty.
"I don't know," she teased. "I'm pretty hungry."
Lorcan snorted as his eyes closed, once more. "I promise it'll be worth it."
Elide couldn't deny that. She stripped off her clothes and meandered into the tub, sitting idly on Lorcan's lap. He wrapped his arms around her and laid his chin on top of her head as the music played around them.
There was nothing sexual about it, only comfort. He rubbed her back gently, his fingers dancing across her skin smoothly, and just as Elide closed her eyes and began to drift into a state of utter calmness, Lorcan chuckled.
She opened her eyes and glanced up at him. "What?"
"I just imagined you kicking the ass of the sixty-year-old woman that made me want to quit my job today," he said, quietly. "It was satisfying."
Elide laughed quietly as she snuggled up against him, breathing him in. "Your twisted mind would find joy in that."
"If my mind is twisted, yours is just as bad."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Elide said, fingers trailing down his chest. "I'm nothing but pure and innocent."
Lorcan took her fingers and made them still before bringing them to his mouth and kissing each fingertip softly, teasingly. His tone set her on fire when he said, "You are not pure or innocent."
Elide grinned, refusing to correct him, because they both knew it was true. Their hands wandered one another until simple touches became unbearable. They made love to one another until the water ran cold, and it was nearly midnight before Elide got around to her dinner.
But she didn't mind.
#elide#lorcan#elorcan#tog#throne of glass fanfiction#elide x lorcan#lorcan x elide#modern au#fluff#oneshot#drabble#dabble#500 words or less#sjm fanfic#sjm fanfiction#throne of glass#fanfiction#fanfic#tara answers prompts
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JAMuary: 100 Drabbles Based on Songs (2024)
025. Hands On Me - Quynh/Andromache the Scythian
#jamuary: 100 drabbles based on songs (2024)#the old guard#andromaquynh#quynh x andy#andy x quynh#andromache x quynh#quynh x andromache#tog fandom#tog fic#*g#*oldguard#*chathe#*verngo#*jamuary
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can what they feel be called love at first sight, when they learned to love each other before they ever met?
a drabble for @flufftober 2023 day 9: '... at first sight'.
100 words, rated G, no warnings, pre-canon
Read on Ao3
Still taking flufftober prompts, and hopefully I’ll manage a couple longer ficlets again soon! I’m also just 2 fics short of having 100 TOG fics on Ao3 - so prompt me some Andromaquynh or Andronilynh, and maybe I can reach that 100 before the end of the month? :D
#andromaquynh#the old guard#lilo writes#flufftober 2023#lilo writes fanfic#drabble#my drabble#my Andromaquynh#lilo creates#fic header#my tog#andromache x quynh#andromache the scythian#Quynh#tog#tog fic#Andromaquynh fanfic#immortal wives#horse girl andromache#the old guard fanfiction
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Dom reader with gavriel maybe? He’s been the responsible one AND a general with many under his command for centuries. What happens when he’s under her command? ;)
ooooh delicious! i feel like it’d be very very hard to get him to submit and take it seriously but you’d get there in the end.
at first he’d laugh as you pinned his hands above his head, a lazy smirk on his face as he waited for you to give up and let him take control and take care of you. he’d try and persuade you, “come on princess, i can smell you dripping for me. why don’t you untie me so i can take care of my good girl? wouldn’t you like that?”. but you don’t give up, you take his cock in your mouth in that way you know he just loves. you bring him to the edge and then stop, taking great delight in his frustrated groan. both of you know he could easily overpower the restraints and flip you over, but he secretly loves it too much to do that. and then you keep edging him, and he finally slips into complete submission and begs for you desperately ;)
what do we think folks? shall i expand on this drabble?
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use a photo on your phone camera roll and write a quick scene/hc for it
hi. well, 95% of the photos on my phone are cats, but i found a non-cat one that felt particularly inspirational, so
She wakes up and it’s almost pitch black, barring a red emergency light from some tech she can’t place in the bleary few moments immediately after opening her eyes. It’s confusing, disorienting, and she reaches over blindly to find the reassuring warmth beside her.
“Power went out,” he tells her quietly, capturing her hand.
“Again,” she sighs, closes her eyes grumpily. “Shoulda got a generator.”
He hums, moves her hand up so he can kiss her fingertips and her grumpiness melts away. A little. “I dunno” he murmurs, “it’s a bit romantic, isn’t it?”
She laughs and rolls over toward him, clings to his side in the rose-tinted darkness. “Romantic and creepy,” she says, resting her cheek against his bicep.
“Not sexy?” he asks lightly. She smiles, nips at his arm and enjoys the way his muscle twitches beneath her lips. “This is how we used to fuck, you know.”
“By an emergency LED?” she asks. “In the snowy peaks of southern France?”
“Ah,” he says, with an especially Gallic air, “I didn’t only stay in Marseille my whole life...”
She lays her head on his shoulder. “And the LED?”
He pauses. “We were ahead of our time.”
She laughs.
---
thank you for the prompt kind anon <3
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omg you ask Aedion to train you and its going well and Gavriel loses his shit every time he looks out the window and sees you there, panting and sweaty. and one day he’s outside with you guys and it distracts you. and you accidentally get hurt and Aedion is quickly apologizing, already assessing where you’re hurt and how to fix it. but Gavriel comes over and is pissed at his son and tells him to get out of the way. And as soon as he looks at you and sees the tears you’re trying to hold back and you give him a broken “it’s okay” his face softens and he’s like “c’mere”. he’s so soft and gentle with you, heals you, and then picks you up bridal style to carry you inside, not before casting one more glare at his son. And he’d make you stay over so he can dote on you some more.
I uh- got a little carried away
Imagine when a tear does slip down your cheek, Gavriel’s already there, his thumb brushing over your skin, wiping it away. “You’re gonna be okay, honey. Just a little longer,” He says softer than silk. You’re gazing up at him with those wide, teary eyes, you have so much trust in him. Gavriel doesn’t want to look away, he feels as though he could spend hours staring into your pretty eyes. But that gash on your thigh is deeper than expected. Gavriel shouts something over to Aedion, still apologising despite you assuring him it’s fine, accidents happen. Too busy admiring the older male, you can barely make out what he’s saying, something about telling Aedion to head into town, pick up herbs and salves for your leg.
Your friend jogs off. Leaving you alone with his father for gods knows how long. Not that you mind one bit. You’re almost grateful. You didn’t miss how Gavriel’s eyes were roaming your body while you were training, the way he’s been looking at you for months now. You’re brought back too when Gavriel’s hand cups your thigh. You gasp. Neither of you knowing whether it’s from the pain or the contact. “You’re doing so well,” He tells you, the praise twisting deep in your belly and you have to bite your lip in attempt to calm yourself. You’re unaware that Gavriel could hear the way your heart began racing. He smiles to himself, finishing up your leg.
Before you know it, you’re being scooped into his arms and carried towards the house. Clutching onto him, you laugh quietly, “I-I can walk. It doesn’t hurt much.” Gavriel looks at you, his stare making your skin feel hot, there’s a hint of a smirk on his lips. “You really want me to put you down?” You keep quiet, answering him by hiding your face in his shoulder. “Thought so.”
You’re still smiling when Gavriel sets you down on the kitchen counter. He’s so close, standing between your legs while he massages the spot on your thigh where the slash once was. You can’t tell if this is real or if you’re dreaming. “Are you okay?” He checks, free hand cupping your face. You nod, too focused on the way his hands feel on you. Images of him touching you in other ways, in more intimate places are flashing through your mind. “I need words, little one. Gotta let me know how you’re feeling.” Nodding again, you wet your lips, Gavriel’s eyes briefly tearing away from yours to watch the action. “I’m okay, I promise,” You cover his hand with yours, “Thank you.”
“Good girl.” Gavriel smiles, hearing the whimper that escapes you in response, “Do you need anything?” Your thumb strokes the back of his hand, a wave of confidence washing over you. “Just you.” Gavriel steps closer, his eyebrow raising ever so slightly. He tilts your head back, you can feel his breath fanning across your face. “Is that right?” He doesn’t give you time to respond, leaning in to capture your lips with his. You grip the edge of the countertop, truly believing that your heart has stopped working.
He’s so gentle, kissing you softly, slowly, making sure you’re comfortable with his mouth on yours. And gods you are, you’ve wanted this for so long. When Gavriel’s tongue finally sweeps past your lips, you can’t help but moan. With that assurance, he kisses you deeper, harder. Your arms wind their away around Gavriel’s neck as he guides you, tastes you, his tongue exploring your mouth. His arm wraps around your waist, dragging your body closer to him, you can feel his warmth spreading across you. He’s everywhere. You never want to stop kissing him. You don’t care that he’s your best friend’s father. Not when his mouth feels this good moulding against yours.
Gavriel pulls his mouth away from yours when he feels your thighs squeezing his hips in your attempt to relieve the pulsing between your legs. “I can’t- we can’t,” He drops his head to your shoulder, the both of you panting heavily. You shiver, the male planting a kiss to the side of your neck. “Aedion’s going to be home soon,” Gavriel reminds you, lifting his head. He takes your jaw in his hand, gently turning your head so you’re looking at him. His eyes are dark. Serious. “And trust me when I say this, little one. When I have you for the first time, I want to spend hours taking you apart. On my fingers, on my tongue. And then we’ll see if you’re really ready to take an older male.”
#drabbles ❥#bsfd!gavriel#bsf!dad!gavriel#gavriel x reader#gavriel tog#gavriel throne of glass#aedions best friend x gavriel#gavriel x you#gavriel smut#gavriel x reader smut#throne of glass imagines#throne of glass x reader
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Drive
Word Count: 212
AU: Modern
Read on AO3 here
Masterlist
It had been a long, exhausting day, and Rowan was grumpy and tired. He just wanted to go home and just go straight to bed, but unfortunately, he was an adult. Therefore, he had adult things that needed to get done such as cooking dinner and eating it, folding the laundry that had been sitting in the dryer for two days now, and actually responding to text messages that he hadn’t answered for about fifteen hours now.
He was just tempted to go and pick up takeout on his way home instead of actually spending the time and energy in cooking. As Rowan considered his options at a red light, he just happened to look over at the car on his right for a moment before turning back to look straight ahead.
Until Rowan processed exactly what he had seen.
He turned his head back around to find his neighbor, Aelin, banging her head and jamming to whatever was playing in her car. She must’ve felt him staring because she turned to look at him, and while still dancing in her car, waved hello to him before making a right turn as the light turned green.
By the time he got home with his takeout, there was a smile on his face.
~~~~
I'm glad everyone's enjoying these :) pls lemme know if you want to be added to the taglist
Taglist: @thegreyj @backtobl4ck @leiawritesstories
#rowaelin#throne of glass#throne of glass fics#tog#tog fics#rowan whitethorn#aelin galythinius#drabbles
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Love, Unsaid
Joe x Nicky Drabble. Canon typical violence, Character death (Nicky starts off dead but he’s fine), they hug it out, that’s it, that’s the fic
It’s slow going, removing the sword from Nicolo’s gut.
King Arthur probably had an easier time removing the sword from the stone. Between the constant rain lashing down on them and the constant blood swelling fresh at the wound, the mud that was once this forsaken battlefield anchoring Yusuf where he stands, it is no easy task. He’d snapped the arrows that had landed in Nicolo’s shoulders, the heads have already been expelled by his immortality. When Nicolo revives they’re going to have to reconsider which cause they lend their swords to, coin or no coin.
Still, it is nice to fight together, rather than fighting each other. It had been getting old, in a way they apparently don’t anymore. They are not quite friends, not yet. They shake hands if they part, clasp each other’s shoulders. Nicolo is showing himself to be a kind soul, at his core, repentant and eager to learn.
This fucking sword.
Yusuf coughs with exertion, throwing his aching hands in the air. They are the only fighters left, only the scavengers, human and bird alike now picking their way through the available lootings.
His hands slip on the smoothed prongs of the handguard, wet with rain and water and blood and sweat before Yusuf swears, bends his knees and yanks.
There is a chorus of sounds, a squelching, wrenching crunch before the sword glides free and Yusuf tilts backwards, falling on his arse in the mud. All those minstrals and bards glorifying battles want murdered in a way that sticks. Flinging the weapon aside, he claws his way back over to Nicolo. Those singular eyes are still more reticent of seaglass rather than seafoam.
“Nicolo. Nicolo” Yusuf calls gently, shaking the other man’s shoulder.
“Nicolo”
There’s no movement. Not even a twitch to his little finger.
He glances down at the wound, washed clean by the rain. It’s healing. It must be healing.
Larger wounds take longer they know this. The weapon had obstructed his healing that’s all.
He’s not dead. Nicolo di Genova, the eternal thorn in his side, the handsome bastard who is his only constant in this world is not dead. He’s not allowed to be. He’s not going to be killed permanently by some jumped up rat-faced shit from England after everything Yusuf tried all those years ago.
Yusuf puts a hand on Nicolo’s cheek, still warm despite the icy sheen of water soaking them through.
“Nico”
There’s a wet gasp that’s halfway between death rattle and coming air that always accompanies when they are dragged from death to life and Nicolo bolts upright. He gasps several times, sucking in great lungfuls of air greedily.
“You’re alright, You’re alright, it’s over. I’m here. We’re here” Yusuf finds himself repeating, rubbing Nicolo’s back of all things. Nicolo coughs once more, before twisting violently away, still grasping Yusuf’s wrist hard before he vomits.
Yusuf’s already reaching for the waterskin at his own hip as Nicolo spits the last of the bile out. “I’m sorry,” Nicolo rasps, the words coming slow. “Arrows were poisoned”
That English fucker.
No wonder the healing had taken so long. Nicolo’s system had been fighting off two things at once.
“It’s not your fault, my friend” Yusuf says before he can stop himself. Nicolo obviously hears him because he stares open mouthed at Yusuf for a moment, before wiping his mouth on his sleeve. He nods once, a sharp bob of the head as if he can’t quite believe it. Then before Yusuf can stop him, Nicolo stumbles upright, staggering to his feet like a drunkard. He rubs the rain from his face and stands before Yusuf, trembling slightly.
“How – how bad was it?”
They’re healing has quickened over the years, but worse deaths take longer.
“Bad” Yusuf says. They both need food and warmth. What’s done is done.
Nicolo hums, voice still worn. He’s still trembling too, probably cold. His eyes are big and wide and he’s never looked so young to Yusuf as he does now, except maybe when they’d come back to life that first time around, when everything was new and strange and yet still the same.
If it was anyone else, anyone from Yusuf’s old life, he’d probably have hugged them before now. He’s a tactile soul, always reaching out. But they’ve never hugged before.
“Do you – do you want?”
Nicolo barely looks at Yusuf’s half open arms before he falls into them, arms coming to wrap around Yusuf’s middle. Yusuf jumps when he feels a cold nose bury into his neck.
“Thank you Yusuf” he murmurs quietly after a moment, without letting go.
*
It’s so nice to be held, after years of hacking away across the continents, of lying and running and never getting close except out of necessity to sleep, or shoot or bandage.
Nicolo feels the moment all the tension goes out of Yusuf’s shoulders, so that he sags against Nicolo’s shoulders. He can’t help it, he smiles into the other man’s shoulder. This beautiful man who has opened his arms again and again to Nicolo, literally now, despite everything.
It’s so quiet, after a battle. During, you can’t hear yourself think, let alone hear what’s going on – it all melts into one incomprehensible din. Arrows and shields clanging, swords clashing, people screaming. After death has swept the field, it’s deafening in another way altogether.
They’re still holding each other.
In the back of his mind, Nicolo is vaguely away that maybe this hug has gone on a little…long than may be polite. He has taken so much, he should pull back, lest such a blessing not be offered again.
But when he goes to disentangle himself, Yusuf merely shifts his weight to his other leg and Nicolo feels his fingers dig into the mail of his shirt. Of its own volition, Nicolo’s hand comes up to cup the back of Yusuf’s head.
Well. Maybe they both need it.
*
“Andromache!”
Nile watches as Andy gets literally swept – more like scooped – off her feet into a massive hug by Joe. It’s the first time they’ve been separated as a team, the first time Nile’s seen a reunion after a long period of time. The first time she’s seen Andy all but giggle as she’s swayed gently from side to side, feet dangling as Joe hugs her.
Then its Nicky’s turn and its different but no less tender, the way he cups the back of Andy’s head, big arms coming round to wrap around her. They hold each other just as long, just as warmly.
And then the couple’s eyes fall on Nile. They’ve given each other their hands before, clasped each other’s shoulders, hell even had a thumb war on that really fucking long flight to Tripoli.
Nicky looks at Nile for a long moment and then, almost conversationally, opens his arms the tiniest fraction, intent clear. She can take it or leave it and either way is absolutely fine.
God, Nile’s missed hugs. And Nicky and Joe? They give the best fucking hugs. Just…being lightly squeezed, so much that her aching shoulders finally seem to release, in a way that there’s no limit.
What was it Nicky had said?
We’re not meant to be alone.
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HI ABBY!! CONGRATS ON 550!! For a prompt, here's something I found and thought of Aelin the minute I read it (but if you like another ship for this prompt, I love that too)- “wake up and come get breakfast, love.” “…. now…….. when i said yes to this whole marriage thing i thought we were on the same page and you understood when i said i don’t wake up before 6pm.” “i made hashbrowns.” “i’ll be right there.”-
Hash Browns
CW: language
AN: Thanks Anna!! I turned this into a little drabble, I hope you like it :)
Fluff//541 words
Someone was stroking Aelin’s cheek.
That was the first thing she noticed upon gaining a semblance of consciousness. At first she leaned into the touch. The hand was rough and its callouses scraped deliciously against Aelin’s soft cheek. Then, she began to realize the touch was a little too insistent. Not only that but it was accompanied by a voice.
Fuck it all to hell. Someone was trying to wake her up.
Aelin groaned and rolled over, pressing her face into the pillow. “Go away,” she muttered, the sound muffled by the pillow but still audible to her assailant. Because that’s what he was—someone with the malicious intent of interrupting her precious beauty sleep. Damned son of a bitch.
“Aelin,” Rowan’s voice came again, and her sleep-frazzled brain realized it was her husband who treated her oh-so-woefully on this dreadful morning. She would have to kick his ass later.
After getting a few more hours of rest.
A soft chuckle had her whining and sending a half-hearted kick in his direction.
“Piss off.”
Rowan didn’t budge. “Wake up and come get breakfast, love.”
Resigning herself to the fact her husband didn’t plan to leave, Aelin rolled over and sat up.
“Now, listen here you little scumbag,” she hissed, with probably a little too much malevolence. “When I said yes to this whole marriage thing I thought we were on the same page and you understood when I said I don’t wake up before 6 a.m.”
Rowan appeared completely unfazed. That was one of the things Aelin usually appreciated about her husband: the ability to withstand Aelin’s wrath in the mornings. Now, though, she wished a little more terror shown in the man’s face. He smiled down at her, amusement shining in his pine-green eyes.
“I made hashbrowns.”
That was not what Aelin had expected his reasoning to be. And, as much as she wanted to stay strong… Damn. Rowan really knew how to diffuse her.
“I’ll be right down.”
Rowan let out a belting laugh at her change in demeanor and left the bedroom with a shake of his head. Glowering—but excited all the same—Aelin rubbed her eyes and looked around.
The first thing she noticed was the light shining through the curtains. Probably more light than there would be if it was only six in the morning. Aelin glanced at the clock to see it was just past nine.
Close enough.
Still scowling, Aelin tossed aside the covers and slipped out of bed.
She surely looked like a madwoman, her hair sticking up at all angles. But Aelin had not a care in the world about her appearance when she finally recognized the smell of hash browns wafting upstairs, washing away any lingering annoyance and drawing a loud growl from her stomach.
It took less than one minute to pull on a robe and slippers, and slash water onto her face, before Aelin was sprinting (and tripping) down the stairs. And when Aelin walked in the kitchen to find not only hash browns but a full table of eggs, bacon, and cinnamon toast, alongside her smiling husband who had no ulterior motives, no intent other than to make Aelin happy…
Well, that’s when Aelin smiled back.
———
Tag List:
@aelin-bitch-queen
@autumnbabylon
@charlizeed
@evolving-dreamer
@feysand-loml
@flora-shadowshine
@gracie-rosee
@infernoqueen19
@julemmaes
@leiawritesstories
@lemonade-coolattas
@live-the-fangirl-life
@midsizewitch
@morganofthewildfire
@mybloodrunsblue
@nehemikkele
@realbookloverproblems
@rhysandswingspan
@rowaelinismyotp
@rowanaelinn
@sexy-dumpster-fire
@sleeping-and-books
@story-scribbler
@swankii-art-teacher
@the-lonelybarricade
@thenerdandfandoms
@yesdreamblog
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Can we get a part 2 of Coach??
ask and ye shall receive! it's not as good as part one, but like, i highly doubt i'll ever top that drabble tbh. i hope you enjoy!
It was a cool afternoon, fluffy white clouds backlit by a baby blue sky. Mid-September was one of Rowan’s favorite times of the year in Terrasen. Despite mild summers, nowhere near reaching the heat of Doranelle, some days were miserable to be outside. It was a problem considering how all of their kids were involved in various sports, and Arden got a little dramatic about his baseball games when the temperature reached the nineties.
Today it was Evie’s turn to have the full support of her family. The tails of her french braids swished behind her as she ran down the field, a determined look on her face as she focused on the soccer ball with a predator’s precision. Pride swelled in Rowan’s chest, admiring the seven year old for having such determination with everything she did.
“Let’s go, Evie!” he shouted, causing a jolt on his chest. Rowan looked down at the six month old strapped to his front. As he adjusted the small hat on the top of Declan’s head, he couldn’t resist dropping several kisses to his chubby cheeks. Several coos and tiny giggles erupted from him. This time, Rowan’s heart swelled with pure love.
“Hey, Coach!” someone shouted from the stands. Rowan braced his hands on his hips and turned his upper body toward the bleachers. His eyes immediately locked on his wife, golden hair falling over her shoulders in long curls. She was leaning forward with her hands on her knees and a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Looking good!”
Rowan snorted, cheeks heating slightly as he shook his head and turned his attention back to the game. This wasn’t unusual for Aelin. Every time she heard one of the other moms talking about Rowan, she joined in the fun. Her present outburst was likely for that very reason.
Evalin was running down the field, the time clock ticking closer and closer to the end of the game. But she was no match for time, pushing herself as hard as she could while she kicked and chased the ball toward the goal.
“Yes, baby! You got this!” he heard Aelin shout from the stands. Rowan shouted his own encouragements, a hand on Declan’s stomach for extra support while he jogged down the sidelines and closer to where Evalin made her final kick, sending the ball straight to the corner of the goal.
The crowd cheered and all of Evalin’s teammates bolted toward her on the field as the final buzzer sounded. The gaggle of girls jumped in circles, hugging his daughter and patting her on the back with congratulatory excitement.
A hard smack on his ass had Rowan jolting in surprise, reaching behind him to grab his wife’s hand while she laughed brightly. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers, then reached around her to ruffle the silver hair of his second born. Arden grinned up at him, his smile gapped from the teeth he’d lost over the summer.
“You look so good in these pants,” she whispered, patting her hand on his rear.
“You’re a menace.”
“It isn’t just me. People talk about your ass all the time. One of the dads got me started. I told him that he should see you with your shirt off.” Rowan couldn’t help but laugh as she let out a slow whistle, mirth still twinkling in her bright blue eyes.
“A menace,” he repeated, just as their daughter ran straight into her mother’s arms.
“You were amazing, my love.” Aelin dropped a kiss to the top of her head as Rowan lifted his hand for a high five. Evie jumped, smacking her hand against his enthusiastically. Her cheeks were flushed a bright pink and she was still a little out of breath, but pure joy and pride radiated from her very being. Declan’s arms and legs were going wild, reaching out in every direction while he babbled what Rowan liked to think was his way of letting his big sister know he was proud, too.
“Can I get snacks now? I’m starving,” Evie proclaimed, her hand going to her forehead as though she were feeling faint with hunger. She definitely got that from her mother.
“Go for it.” With a wink, Aelin gestured toward the ice cooler her teammates were beginning to swarm around. Evalin skipped away with Arden hopping close behind her, reaching to try and tug on her braids.
Aelin leaned into Rowan’s side, her head resting on his shoulder while she took Declan’s hat off and ran her fingers through his silky golden hair. She looked so wholly content and happy that Rowan ducked his head down to give her a sweet kiss on her lips.
“I love you.”
“Yeah?” Her head tilted back and she wrapped her arm around his waist. Rowan grunted a confirmation, nodding his head before kissing her again. “I love you, too, Coach. And your ass, and your hands, and your mouth, and that thing you do with your–”
“There are little ears,” he teased, his hands resting on the sides of the infant’s head to block out the noise.
“I just can’t resist you in a polo and khakis.” His wife shrugged, dropping a kiss to his shoulder just as their other two monkeys rejoined them with juice boxes and popcorn in hand. Aelin sighed that her antics had to come to an end, swapping her dirty words for a smile as she slipped her hand into his. “Let’s go home.”
#writing#my writing#rowaelin#drabbles#fanfiction#rowaelin fanfic#rowaelin fanfiction#rowan x aelin#rowaelin fic#rowan whitethorn#aelin ashryver galathynius#aelin galathynius#tog#throne of glass#tog fic#tog fanfic#tog fanfiction#modern au#tog gen 2#rowaelin babies#baby fic#fluff#pure fluff#nothing but fluff
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Elide and Lorcan having an angsty fight. And when they see eachother again they're standing under a mistletoe. Maybe they make up or maybe they don't who knows.
I never asked a prompt before... I Just really want to read some Elorcan so this is the first thing that popped in my mind😅
A/N: I love this prompt! I hope you enjoy this drabble and had an amazing holiday season! x
T/W: language
A winter storm was brewing outside, but inside of Elide and Lorcan’s living room, a holiday party was thriving.
It was difficult to plan and throw a party when you’re hardly speaking to your significant other…which Lorcan hadn’t in nearly two days. Every time he passed his fiancé, they barely acknowledged one another.
Their fight had been the worst one yet. Although both of them were stubborn, Lorcan’s temper was a little harsher than Elide’s. He knew it was a character flaw, but he was too stubborn to work on it. When he got angry, he didn’t want to fix it, he just wanted to stay pissed off.
And he had stayed pissed off for two days.
It didn't stop them from hosting their Christmas party. It didn't stop Elide from cooking all day, and it didn't stop Lorcan from cleaning the house to perfection. He always cleaned better when he was pissed the hell off. He was an angry-scrubber.
Although their friends seemed to be having a great time, the tension between the two of them was evident. Aside from lingering glares, Lorcan hadn't bothered to say a word to Elide, and she didn't bother saying a word to him.
It was ridiculous.
He knew it.
And he didn't care.
Planning a wedding was stressful.
It was even more stressful when a date could not be set.
Lorcan asked Elide to marry him a year ago. Last Christmas, he had gotten down on one knee and popped the question. When she had said yes, it had been the greatest moment of his life. Every hardship he had endured didn't seem so bad, because they had led him to her, to her saying yes to becoming his wife.
But even a year later, Elide didn't want to set a date.
Lorcan didn't get it. He didn't understand it. He knew that Elide loved him, which only made him that much more confused on why she couldn't settle on a day to marry him, to take that final step. It confused him so much that he picked a fight, had started yelling at her and acting a fool when he asked her about setting a date again, and she said that she didn't know.
Their fight had ended with Lorcan saying the awful words: Then maybe we shouldn't even get married.
Since those words left his mouth, silence was all that laid between them.
Now, the room around Lorcan was filled with holiday cheer but he felt none of it. Every minute that passed with that tension between them just felt off, awful, not right.
Lorcan lifted his glass to his lips only to find it empty. He hadn't even realized he'd been drinking that often, but he supposed that misery loved company, and whiskey was the best company of all.
Pushing himself off the wall by Fenrys and Connall, who were bickering about something ridiculous, Lorcan strode to the kitchen with his empty glass.
And nearly ran directly into Elide.
The thing about Elide Lochan was if she was in a crowd of people, you probably wouldn't be seeing her right away, considering Lorcan had almost two feet on her. So when she came around the corner of the kitchen with her own recently filled wine glass, he had barely stopped himself before his shirt had a big red stain on it.
They both froze and stared at one another.
Lorcan cleared his throat. "Sorry."
Elide gave him a nod, her lips in a straight line.
"It's about time you two lovebirds were caught under the mistletoe."
The fucking mistletoe.
Lorcan had nearly forgotten about it until they both looked up and, surely enough, they stood underneath the neatly trimmed and hung greenery.
A sigh left him as he looked back down at Elide, who shrugged and, with a roll of her dark eyes, rose on her toes.
Lorcan leaned down and kissed her, softly. It was nothing more than a peck on the lips, but the second their mouths touched, Lorcan tasted the wine and cherry chapstick. Their kiss deepened, as every kiss that had ever occurred between the two of them had. It was something that should have only lasted a second but lasted much longer as they melted into one another.
When that kiss finally broke, they didn't part too far from one another. Lorcan brushed her hair behind her ear and shook his head. "I'm sorry."
Elide's eyes softened. "No, I'm sorry. You have every right to be frustrated with me. I just know that as soon as we set a date, the wedding planning is going to be so stressful, and I never imagined that I'd be getting married without my parents there-"
"Hey," Lorcan breathed, lifting her chin so that she met his gaze. "You don't need to explain."
"Yes, I do," she whispered, "because I don't want you thinking that I don't want to marry you. I do. Of course, I do. I love you. So much."
"I know," he said, taking her hand. "I love you, too, and we'll set a date when we set a date. As long as you're here every morning when I wake up and every night when I go to bed, that's all that matters to me."
Elide's lips slowly twisted into a small smile. "Such a softie."
"Mhmm," he said, eyes narrowing as they always did when she would tell him how romantic he was being. He kissed her, once more. "Don't tell anybody."
"Your secret is safe with me."
"Good."
Using his empty glass as an excuse, Lorcan pulled Elide into the kitchen with him and kissed her again and again, considering he had two days worth to make up for.
Sometimes he scolded himself for being so stubborn and for falling in love with such a stubborn woman. Yet, every time they fought, they sure as hell knew how to make up.
#elorcan#lorcan#elide#lorcan x elide#elide x lorcan#holiday fanfiction#christmas fanfiction#tog#throne of glass#throne of glass fanfic#throne of glass fanfiction#throne of glass series#sjm#sjm fanfic#sjm fanfiction#fluff#drabble#oneshot#fanfic#fanfiction#christmas fics#tara answers prompts
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❝ Requests! ❞
STATUS: OPEN
Rules:
ஓ๑ You can only request ‘character x reader’ stories. Request in the ask box and not in the comments.
ஓ๑ Most stories will be sfsw but if you want a nfsw, it will be more softcore nfsw
ஓ๑ I will NOT write incest, rape, abuse, age gap, abortion, cheating, pregnancy (especially teen pregnancy), hate to a certain group of individuals, dark/yandere (as much as I enjoy it, I can’t write it), sucide/self harm or over the top kinks such as breeding or bdsm
ஓ๑ The more details you provide in your request, the better the story will be to your liking
ஓ๑ AU’s are allowed and if I know your Oc really well, I can take requests for them
ஓ๑ Female or gender neutral reader. Sorry, but I’m a female and I don’t think I can properly write from a male point of view
ஓ๑ Stories won’t be that long since I’m not well experienced with writing. Either drabbles or headcanons
ஓ๑ Please do not ask how long it will take, I have an extremely busy schedule. I can choose to ignore your request if it doesn’t follow the rules or is uncomfortable or simply does not want to.
Fandoms:
Naruto
Percy Jackson
Attack on Titan
Bungo Stray dogs
Game of Thrones
Throne of Glass
Attack on Titan
Suits
Jujutsu Kaisen
My Hero Academia
Demon Slayer
The Tudors
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#Anna’s drabbles#Naruto#percy jackson#attack on titan#aot#pjo#bsd#bungo stray dogs#game of thrones#got#suits usa#suits tv#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#throne of glass#tog#my hero acadmia#mha#demon slayer#kny#the tudors#x reader
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