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throneofsapphics · 9 months

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piercings

poly!Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary: “You can thank me, by quitting doing stupid things when you’re drunk.”

I hummed. “No promises.”

Warnings: nudity, piercings, blood, slight possessive behavior, drinking, a tiny bit of fluff.

Word Count: ~1.3k

I came home drunk, stumbling into my room, laughing to myself. I’d drank enough alcohol that I didn’t feel the pain of my recently pierced nipples brushing against my dress. I had to take a few breaths after opening the door, pressing my hand against the frame to steady myself.

I stumbled into my bathroom, leaning over the sink to splash cold water on my face. I stripped away my dress, tossing it into the basket without a second thought, my underwear following. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, nipples swollen and slightly bloodied around the piercing. “Clean that in the morning,” I mumbled to myself, thinking clearly enough to write a note, placing it under a paperweight.

Cln piercing in mrninh. I examined my work. Good enough, I might not remember it anyways. I stumbled into bed, still naked and probably reeking. I’d have to get new sheets in the morning, but right now taking a bath alone would be risky - considering how intoxicated I am. I slipped under the silky sheets, thanking whatever Gods might still be around for Aelin’s taste in luxury.

I woke up the next morning to a sharp pain on my breasts and my eyes shot open. Small droplets of blood dotted the white sheet barely covering me. I yanked it back. Two bars, right through both of my nipples. Dear Gods, how drunk was I?

I groaned, pulling myself out of bed and grabbing a nightgown, wincing as I pulled it around myself.

A note stood out on my desk, crumpled parchment shoved under a paper weight with a pen messily discarded next to it.

Cln piercing in mrninh.

That explains just how drunk I was. I winced as they pushed against the fabric again, and loosened the strip of fabric tying my robe together. Could I get away with walking around the castle naked? That might be a stretch, and might result in someone’s murder.

When Rowan and Aelin found out about this … pulling them out would be futile, they’d notice the small wounds left behind anyways. At least I remember going to a professional piercer, getting them done with a friend. I discarded the note, and went to clean them as best as I could, bending awkwardly over the sink, hissing as I dabbed a cloth against them. If these got infected I’d never hear the end of it. I likely won’t hear the end of it now. I splashed water on my face and dressed, foregoing the band and choosing a loose top, taking a few deep breaths before resigning myself to my fate, and heading for the dining hall.

We kept separate rooms for this exact purpose - my stumbling into the castle at ungodly hours, often when both of them needed to be up early. Plus, I did enjoy having my own space sometimes.

Aelin noticed something was off as soon as Y/n walked in. She knows she went out last night .. probably hungover as hell. She slid her a cup of tea with a small smile, one she returned gratefully but looked a bit nervous.

“What did you do?” Rowan asked gruffly, setting down the papers he’d been looking out.

“Go out.” She rolled her eyes, “you already knew that.”

His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t question her further, turning back to the papers.

…

Later that night, she figured out exactly what she did. Y/n turned away as she changed, hiding her body from view and throwing a silky blue nightgown over. As she turned back, the moonlight hit her perfectly, outlining her breasts with …

“What are those?” She carefully kept her voice even.

“What?” Y/n said defensively, wrapping her arms around her chest.

“You know what I’m talking about,” Aelin stalked towards her with predatory intent, pulling her arms away. Y/n hissed as she flicked one nipple, flinching back from her. Aelin’s eyebrows raised, “and when did that happen?”

“When did what happen?” Rowan opened the door, spotting the two of them.

“Nothing.” Y/n said through gritted teeth, keeping eyes firmly fixed on Aelin, pleading. Aelin just grinned like the cat who caught the canary, before turning to Rowan.

“Her nipples are pierced.”

He stalked over, pushing Aelin slightly out of the way to look. “Who did those?” His voice grew dangerously low. Sounding as pissed as Aelin felt. Y/n, likely drunk off her ass, getting a piercing where someone else saw her half naked. Saw her mate naked.

“A piercer.” Y/n snapped, looking out towards the window, avoiding both of them. She yelped as Rowan’s hands grabbed the nightgown, ripping it off of her. “I liked that one.” She protested, but he stared at the small piercings cutting through her rosy pink nipples, and trailed a finger around them, ignoring her wince.

“What the hell were you thinking?” He seethed.

“I was thinking I wanted to do something fun. With a friend.”

“Letting someone else see you half naked is ‘fun’?” Rowan tilted his head, the question a challenge.

“That’s not what I said.” Y/n snapped back.

“If you wanted them badly enough, I would’ve done them.” He countered, “Not some random person.”

“And have you given one before?”

His eyebrows raised. “I’m over 300 years old.”

“So? You grabbed some ice and a needle, and stuck it through someone's ear, that doesn’t make you an expert.” He snarled at her, and she kept speaking before he could reply. “I like them,” and wrapped her arms around her chest, wincing as they hit the small wounds.

“You let someone else touch you.” Rowan kept his voice mild, despite the anger rolling from him in waves.

“They were professional,” She rolled her eyes, turning to head to the bathroom. Copper, Aelin scented, and intercepted her before she could go far, grabbing her upper arm so Y/n would face her. She frowned, looking down at her.

“That’s not normally how you react when you see me naked.” Y/n hissed.

“They’re bleeding.” Aelin muttered, before dragging her off to the bathroom to clean them.

“They are pretty,” Aelin reluctantly admitted as she gently dabbed a cloth against them.

“Maybe you should get matching ones.” I whispered quietly, low enough Rowan wouldn’t hear. Aelin’s eyes gleamed.

“So he can be pissed at both of us?”

“I’ll do them. Nobody needs to see their Queen half naked.”

“Have you given someone a piercing before?”

“Multiple times.” I winked, “but never nipples.” I frowned. Aelin snorted.

“I love you, but I’m not letting you near me with a needle.” I huffed in fake annoyance, and she rolled her eyes before kissing my cheek and pushing me back into the room.

Rowan’s eyes devoured me as we walked back out, piercings and all. I pointedly ignored him, picking up the torn cloth and throwing it into a spare basket. Maybe I could salvage it another day. I was sorting through, looking for something else to sleep in so I wouldn’t ruin the sheets, when he gently gripped my shoulder, a small tin in hand. He didn’t say anything but opened it and carefully rubbed a salve on the surrounding area. A bit of relief came through, and I sighed in content.

“Only because I don’t want them to get infected.” He grunted, reaching over me and grabbing a night gown before motioning for me to lift my arms, and he tugged it down my body, lifting it so it wouldn’t drag against the bars.

“Thank you,” I said softly, pressing up on my toes to kiss his cheek.

“You can thank me, by quitting doing stupid things when you’re drunk.”

I hummed. “No promises.”

He rolled his eyes, but tugged me back towards the bed. Dropping the tin off on a small table.

#rowaelin x reader #rowaelin x y/n #rowan whitethorn x y/n #rowan whitethorn x reader #aelin x y/n #aelin x reader #aelin galathynius x reader #throne of glass fic #throne of glass imagine #throne of glass #there's fluff if you squint #and a bit of angst #no beta we die like men #poly!Rowaelin

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 9 months

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for Fen, maybe something like after a long day, what they usually do

Long day

You knew that Fenrys was going to return home late or only the following day. Rowan needed help setting a deal with another court. There had been some uncertainty around the outcomes of the brewing war that had to be resolved. That or it might all burn to the ground. Quite literally.

The girls all stuck around for the day. Not that it was a usual practice. Most of the time everyone was equally as busy so neither got to just sit around. This time was different. You all were left back while all the males scattered in groups finished off the business that had to be settled.

So you're more than surprised when the door to your shared bedroom cracks open. You have no recollection of what time it is. The moon is high up. And you had most definitely lost yourself in the book now resting on your lap. "How are you home already?", you frown slightly. This could easily mean more than one thing. It all went to shit or was way too easy. "Careful it sounds like you enjoy the empty bed", Fenrys steps deeper into the room, fetching a glass of water for himself. And gods doom you when you see his tired face. Hard expression painting his features. So unusual for him.

You make a quick work getting out of bed as you pad towards your mate. The silk nightgown leaves little to the imagination and even if Fenrys's eyes follow your every move you can tell that sex is the last thing on his mind. Never had he been too keen on taking his amped-up frustration on you.

"Did it go to shit?", you ask softly, settling onto Fenrys's lap. His arms instantly loop around you as he leans in to kiss your exposed shoulder. "What did you do today?", he says in return and you take the hint of the instantly changed topic. Not now it says. Not now. Don't make me think of it. So you don't. "Went into town with Aelin and Elide, they were looking for the right fabrics for their dresses", your fingers carefully undo a couple of braids holding Fenrys's hair away from his face. Massaging his scalp while you're at it. "And came across the new part of the city. Did you know they were building houses there?", you continue, Fenrys nods before shrugging his shoulders slightly, "Only heard a thing or two".

You two had been searching for a place to move to for a while. Just none of the houses you visited felt quite right. Something was always missing. Fenrys had almost settled for building a place himself. But even that got pushed aside with all the new court work that had to be sorted.

"I liked one", you hum, "It had a big garden, which would be good for you and the boys to train at", Fenrys frowns, "I don't want a big garden for fights", his voice is so serious as he shakes his head. "Why not?", "I want one so our kids could run in it", you tilt your head to the side, smiling softly, "Okay, no garden for fighting, a garden for kids and flowerbeds", at that Fenrys nods, pressing yet another kiss to your collarbone, before nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. You let the silence fall over the two of you. Letting him just be here. With nothing threatening to burst this little bubble.

"Do you want to move to the bed?", you ask Fenrys after a while. You can't imagine this position being comfortable after a day of shifting. "Do I get to lay on top of you?", he mutters against your skin, making you let out a chuckle at the desperation lacing his voice. "Yep, anything you need, darling", "And you'll do that thing you do with my hair?". Your heart aches slightly at his need for affection. As if somehow you haven't been giving enough love to him. "Anything, you want, Fen, anything you want".

#fenrys moonbeam #fenrys moonbeam x reader #fenrys moonbeam imagine #fenrys imagine #fenrys x reader #tog imagine #tog x reader #throne of glass x reader #throne of glass imsgine #rowan whitethorn #lorcan salvaterre #gavriel

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corpsebasil · 5 months

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I'm sorry but knight! Nikolaï got me hORNY—

So just think about it: like, kinda a corruption kink but the other way around? The Princess being very, VERY MUCH INTO HIM and being like "damn Imma bang that man"

And Knight Nikolaï being loyal to his duties so he's trying to not understand or see her advances, but god damn his patience and will to stay professional are wearing thin just like the clothes of the princess seems to gradually become around him uhuh

ARGBLBLBLB HAND ME THE HOLY WATER RIGHT NOW

Dear mother above—

^^^ me and you walking to his room.

Sir Nikolai isn’t a man that is unused to being fawned over. Women and men alike—nobles, citizens, who gives a shit—all want him. The man is literally sex on legs just LOOK at him. LORD.

The one person he’s surprised to find attracted to him, though, is you. Your royal highness. Aka the princess of Ravka and his personal charge. He takes his role of protecting you extremely seriously. He does a security sweep practically every time you enter a room. He keeps his eye out for any possible threats, always a step behind you. Always.

Yes he finds you pretty—who doesn’t—but the idea of sleeping with you goes against every moral fiber of his being.

It starts small when you realize you aren’t going to get your way with him at first.

DRABBLE UNDER THE CUUUUT

Oh god he’s so beautiful anyways—

“Sir Nikolai.”

“Princess.”

You’re watching him from one of the chairs in your sitting-room as he works, sorting through some documents as you’re supposed to be reading. You literally cannot focus.

The rustling of papers and the occasional shift of his body in his chair are the only sounds occupying your rooms as of now and, to your chagrin, you can’t stop staring at his hands. The way his fingers run over the documents, the way he licks his thumb quickly to flip a page, good God.

“I can feel you staring.” He says, not even sparing you a glance as he works. You scowl.

“I am not.”

He raises one eyebrow and you slump lower in your seat, face hot.

You’ve had a crush on your personal guard since pretty much forever and you know that he knows. He finds it entertaining to tease you sometimes; he’ll find excuses to help fix your hair, he holds your hand a bit longer than necessary when escorting you out of a carriage, and he especially enjoys the look on your face when you see him flirting with other women of the court.

I picture his grin like this.

Also Elliot Knight is fucking gorgeous.

He just smiles at you from across the room and goes straight back into his conversation.

You know from gossip around the court that he’s an absolute god in bed. The maids—those damn gossips—all giggle and blush as they whisper about a night with him or someone they know, their voices not quiet enough to stop you from picking up a few details while they clean.

You want him. You want him so bad it makes you look STUPID.

If you’re going to get this man on top of under, behind, down low, up high, all the positions you then you’re going to have to start being a little bolder, sweetheart. You start small: staring more openly and forcing yourself not to look away when caught. Brushing against him when you walk by just to have an excuse to be close to him. Making comments out of the blue about how you’re just so bored and touch deprived.

Poor you.

He catches on instantly.

“Princess.” He starts one evening, watching you as you approach him clad in one of your adorable nightgowns that leave nothing to the imagination. Picture Aelin’s gold nightgown, HA. His teeth are grit so tightly that he can actually feel his jaw hurt as you walk by. “Where is your robe.”

Not a question. He knows exactly where your robe is because you left it on his bed after sneaking quickly through the shared door in your chambers. He’d made the mistake of telling you he’d be right back and you took your chance. You’d be giggling like a fiend when he knocked just now, eyes dark and expression unamused.

He didn’t bring the robe, though. Oddly enough.

“It’s too hot for a robe right now.” You lie, ignoring his annoyed stare as you pour yourself a glass of bourbon from a decanter. “Besides, this dress is new. Don’t you like it?”

“You forgot the rest of it.”

“This is the newest style!” You argue, grinning to yourself as you feel him watch your back. The material is thin as hell and Saints you look fucking magical in it.

Meanwhile Nikolai, behind you, is feeling warmer and warmer the longer you fix yourself a drink. His eyes roam across your bare skin, his blood burning in his veins as he watches the slight sway of your hips. He can imagine running his hands along those long legs of yours, skin soft under his fingers.

How responsive would you be for him? Would you be loud or quiet? Calling out his name or only gasping and whining for him? Would you let him kiss your thighs before he buries his mouth between your legs? Would you let him bend you over his desk or set you on top of it?

Lord have mercy—

He licks his lips thoughtfully as he continues his observations. Surely you’re taking longer on purpose so that he can stare.

The clink of the glass hitting the counter snaps him from his fantasies before he realizes he’s been caught blatantly checking out your ass with his mouth hanging open a fraction.

Shit.

Your smile is devious and proud when you turn to face him, leaning slightly back against the table to meet his eyes.

“Something wrong, Sir?”

“Princess.” He clears his throat and glances up at the ceiling for a moment. “This isn’t appropriate.”

“I’d hope not.” You snort. You walk towards him and he stays still, every inch of him tense. He doesn’t look away as you tilt your head, chin lifted up to his in offering. He doesn’t take the bait.

“Princess.” He grits out. “Please. Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“You know what.”

“I’m not doing—”

But you shut up when his hand reaches out to snatch your wrist in an iron grip, your fingers hovering barely an inch away from his chest. The gap in his loose shirt reveals smooth, golden skin, your fingertips frozen.

You glance up with a tiny gasp and he’s watching you, his eyes darker and more serious than before.

“I cant let you start anything.” He breathes, hand tightening on your arm. “Not like this. Not with me.”

“Why?” You question, face falling as you look up into his eyes. “Why not?”

“You’re jail bait, kid.”

“What does that mean—”

“Your father would kick my ass if he saw me with you. You know that.” You huff through your nose and attempt to pull away but he holds fast. “Y/N,” he starts and your heart aches. Not ‘Princess’, Y/N. “you have no idea the things I’d do to you.”

You freeze as his head lowers a fraction, nose barely touching yours. Your breaths are unsteady as he tucks your hair behind an ear, hand framing your face.

“You’d never want to leave my bed.” He adds and the ache shoots from your heart to right between your legs. “The things I’ve thought about you.” He closes his eyes and, after a beat, whispers a quiet ‘fuck’ before practically tearing himself away from you.

You don’t even have time to protest before he’s heading back to his rooms and shutting the door behind him.

Ughhh OAJAOSK I NEED HIMMMM

#shadow and bone #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai x reader #shadow and bone imagine #knight nikolai lantsov #sir nikolai lantsov #sir Nikolai

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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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mariaofdoranelle · 10 months

Text

URDAD - part 2

Concentration gradient: going down on you

Fic masterlist

Long story short, I lost track of my writing schedule because I’m on a break with none of the routine my neurodivergent brain needs to function. I’m figuring it out. I’ll post LAUN as soon as I can. Here’s some ✨apology smut✨ hehe have fun

Warnings: language, NSFW

Words: 2k

Dr. Whitethorn looked as if he'd seen a ghost.

His eyes lingered on her body for a second before they snapped back to her face. “Is everything alright?”

Aelin strolled his way without fixing her half-open robe, and moved a book so she could sit on his desk. Dr. Whitethorn didn’t restrain his gaze when she crossed her legs.

“I think I have a fever.” Aelin tilted her head, looking him in the eye. “I’m burning up, Doctor, and there’s also this ache. It’s torture.”

“Oh.” He tore his eyes off her and slightly shook his head, as if shaking something off his mind. “I’m sure I have a thermometer somewhere.”

While Dr. Whitethorn looked for his thermometer with his back to her, Aelin took her robe off.

“Got it!” He turned around with the device in his hand, but his expression changed. Dr. Whitethorn’s eyes were blown wide, lips slowly parting as he took her new state in. “Where’s your robe?”

Aelin tilted her head, exposing her neck while feigning confusion. “I thought you were going to examine me.”

“I-“ Rowan’s mouth opened and closed before something clicked and his eyes got full of determination. “We don’t need a thermometer, do we?” He closed the few steps between them, setting the thermometer down. Instead, he put one hand on the desk, next to where Aelin was sitting, and the other against her forehead. “Very feverish indeed.” The back of his hand ignited her as it softly slid against her cheek and neck. “Look, you’re shivering.”

Aelin nodded, lips parted. “I might even need continuous care.”

"I'd advise you to stay out of trouble and rest.” The hand he kept on the desk slipped to her thigh, tracing idle circles as it went up. “But I don’t think you’d follow my orders.”

“You’re wrong about that.” Aelin leaned away a little to look him in the eye, thrusting her chest out in the way and feigning innocence with her eyes. “I’ll follow every order you give me, Doctor.”

A shattered breath left his lungs, and he closed his eyes before continuing, “If you want me to take care of you…” Dr. Whitethorn sneaked his way towards her throat, applying enough pressure to send a jolt of electricity down Aelin’s spine. “You have to say my name.”

“Dr. Whi—“

He squeezed her throat harder, making a trail of goosebumps erupt on her skin. “Say my name, Aelin.”

“Rowan,” she rasped, slightly rocking her hips against his desk, desperate for any sort of friction.

His lips were almost brushing against the shell of her ear when he whispered, “Good girl.”

Aelin turned her face to him, but he still gripped her chin to meet her lips halfway. Rowan’s kiss was ravenous, he took over her mouth and turned Aelin’s blood into wildfire with every possessive swirl of his tongue.

She slid to the end of the desk, trying to meet his hips, and the movement gave him leverage to work on her neck. His rough kisses on her pulse point made her breath hitch, but Aelin wasn’t expecting it when Rowan yanked the thin strap of her nightgown, exposing one breast just to cover it with his hand.

“You’re so fucking pretty.” His voice was hoarse as he slid his fingers under her lacy panties. “But you know that already, don’t you?” He toyed with her entrance for a moment before plunging one finger in, curling it right at the spot that made her see stars. “You wouldn’t have come here if you didn’t know how gorgeous you are.”

Aelin whimpered, grinding against his now two fingers before she replied, “I like hearing it better when it comes from your mouth.”

He let his free hand tease her nipple and wander around her breast, collarbone, neck, before holding her chin and tilting towards him.

“Turn around,” he commanded while removing his fingers from inside her.

Aelin frowned at the change, but complied.

“Bend.”

She leaned over his desk, not missing how her short nightgown rode up as she did, and now her ass was sticking out, unprotected from the AC’s cold air and—

Rowan smacked her ass, and it lingered in a way that made her ache and press her thighs together with need.

He leaned over her, yanked her hair so it wasn’t covering her ear, and whispered, “You think I don’t know what you’re doing?”

Rubbing the redness off, he pecked her shoulder from behind, and gave her a moment to recover. However, that lingering burn only intensified when Rowan spanked her again.

One.

Two.

Three times.

"And this is for toying with me to get revenge."

Aelin‘s mind was too fuzzy to process his words now. She was trembling, whimpering on his desk when Rowan mentioned for her to turn around. He kneeled when she did, and the sight of him guiding her leg so it could rest on his broad shoulder made her insides flush.

Rowan didn’t spare a second before greeting her pussy with his tongue, looking her in the eye as he tasted her folds and massaged her clit. She was a whimpering mess, holding herself upright with one hand, her nerves on fire. The sight of Dr. Whitethorn worshiping her on his knees was enough to make her brain short-circuit.

He leaned away for a moment, lips parted and chin glistening with her wetness as he slowly pushed two fingers in. Trying to watch her gasp and his fingers filling her in at the same time, Rowan didn’t know where to look. He was taking her dismantled state in when Aelin grabbed his hair and led his mouth back to her.

It was too much. With his tongue on her clit while he fucked her with his fingers, Aelin felt like she was shattering from the inside out, ready to burst. Rowan toyed with her as she fell to pieces on his mouth, but she couldn’t last much longer.

Aelin cried out, knees buckling as shockwaves rippled through her body. He drew it out, not stopping until she went limp and muttering that she was being such a good girl and taking his fingers so well.

Rowan got up and wiped his chin with the back of his hand. She couldn’t understand what the look in his eyes meant, so Aelin pulled him in for another kiss.

This one was long and sweet, with Rowan rolling his tongue over hers like he had nowhere to go. He held her face with both hands and such care as if she was something precious, gently caressing her with his thumb. Aelin tugged on his waist, closing whatever little distance still was between them.

Instead of heating things up like she silently ordered, he rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling, and they just stayed there, silent. She didn’t know what he was thinking, but Aelin wasn’t able to think a lot herself.

She ran her hands over his chest, through his cotton shirt. How can a fully-clothed person give her a mind-blowing orgasm like this?

˜˜

Dr. Whitethorn was avoiding her.

Aelin had her suspicions when he didn’t do anything after giving her head, then didn’t show up for breakfast this morning before going to work. However, it was only confirmed when Dr. Towers commented how weird it was that he asked her intern to pick up the patient’s results at the lab.

Which meant he forgot how to send the images and his report in the new software, and printed them out instead of asking Aelin for help.

She was striding down the hospital halls, her heartbeat strong as she calculated what to say.

Rowan’s spine went rigid when she stormed in unannounced, but he still gave her a close-lipped smile.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I guess I should grow a sixth sense to know when you need help with Anne Jausten, since you’re avoiding me now.”

His face fell. “I’m not avoiding you, I’m…” he trailed, feeling the weight of her suspicious gaze. ”buying some time before we talk.”

Aelin sat on the chair beside his and crossed her arms. “Talk about what? How you fingered me into oblivion and ghosted?”

He had the gall to flush on the cheeks. “I didn’t mean to ghost you, I was just trying to sort things out by myself first because I need to be straightforward with you.” He sighed, his eyes looked pained when he said, “Last night shouldn’t have happened.”

What. Aelin blinked, thoughts frozen as her chest tightened.

He continued, ”You were hurt. Still is, probably. Angry, too. I should’ve been the one to stop, so we can just blame this on me and pretend it didn’t happen.”

“What are you talking about?” Aelin’s mouth hung open for a second, not quite understanding his train of thought. Rowan had an unannounced woman throwing herself at him in a flimsy nightgown and gave her earth-shattering oral without having a single orgasm in return. How in hell did he turn himself into the bad guy? She replied in a matter-of-fact tone, “I’m an adult too, Rowan, and I wouldn’t show up at your office half-naked if I wanted you to stop.”

He swallowed, his gaze a little too intense before he averted it. He pulled in a breath and slowly released it, his shoulders looking heavier each second. Rowan replied in a quieter voice, “Look, Aelin, I can’t be a pawn you use to get back at my daughter. I’m not saying Imogen’s right, you have every right to be mad at her, I’m just saying I have my own feelings to protect before engaging in whatever you two have going on.”

Oh. His words tied off whatever thread was tightening her chest, and now she felt it expand again, full of warmth. So that’s why he was acting weird. Rowan thought the only reason she sought him was to get back at Imogen.

Well, that was kind of true. Not completely, though.

“That’s one way to see it.” She tilted her head and ignored the way her pulse got faster. Laying all her feelings and intentions like this wasn’t what Aelin was used to doing with the guys her age, but it was better this way. “The way I see it, is that there’s this thing I’ve always wanted to do, but never did out of loyalty. But now the only tie holding me back is broken, so…” she trailed when something seemed to click inside his head, making his eyes widen.

“Are you telling me you were interested in me before it was convenient for you?”

Aelin nodded in response, trying to look earnest and not laugh at his confused face. The poor thing, so clueless of the effect he had on her.

“Huh.” Rowan frowned at Mora, the microscope, as he analyzed this new piece of information. “I hadn’t considered that.”

Unable to restrain herself, Aelin squeezed his fingers. “Well, you should.”

He slowly nodded, still quiet. It was cute to watch him like that, all flustered and not quite processing that a girl actually liked him.

Now that he knew it, she decided to give him space to mull this over. “There’s this broken monitor in the ER. I should go before Chief Salvaterre throws a hissy fit.”

“Sure.” Rowan aimed her a small smile. “See you at dinner?”

Aelin grinned, walking backwards to the door. “Or when you need help with Anne Jausten.”

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#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #throne of glass #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan x aelin #aelin x rowan #rowaelin fanfic #throne of glass fanfic #URDAD

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justascrollingghost · 1 month

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Rowan: I am a 300 year old warrior and also one of the most powerful fae in existence. I have levelled cities and fought the battles in legends. Nothing can shake me💪🏼

Aelin: look at my pretty nightgown!

Rowan: yeah no I’m out. She can do absolutely anything to me and I’ll say thank you. I’ll follow her anywhere. I’m obsessed.

#rowaelin #rowan and aelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin ashryver galathynius #honestly though #as far as I’m concerned #this is what happened #throne of glass

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highqueenofelfhame · 11 months

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a/n: ciwyw is next, i promise lmao. i'm very excited for the feedback on this one. <3

rowaelin // 5.7k words // skoh masterlist // masterlist

Considering how they had always slept twined together, Aelin wasn’t particularly surprised when she woke up with her back against Rowan’s chest. She tried not to move while her eyes adjusted to the sunlight coming through the curtains. Curtains were at the top of her list of things to buy when she went shopping later.

His arm was a warm, steadying weight over her side and she could feel his breath tickling the back of her neck. In sleep, her fingers had tangled with his over her stomach. Now, she had no idea what to do with any extension of her body. It had been a long time since she had been so hyper-aware of anyone touching her. Even longer than that, she hadn’t woken up with another person like this since the last time Rowan left all those years ago.

And then there was the hardness pressing against her ass that had a giggle threatening to bubble out of her lips.

Aelin bit her bottom lip to suppress the smile that would surely spiral into a fit of laughter as her hips began wiggling against him like she was trying to get comfortable. Rowan’s breathing changed slightly, a sharper inhale indicating he was at least a little awake now. She paused her movements just long enough to make the whole thing seem innocent before starting up again. The solid length of him grew harder against her. With the nightgown she slept in bunched up around her waist, their underwear was the only thing between them.

It was the bare skin of her hip that his hand clamped down on to still her, his breath hot against her ear as he growled, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Trying to get out from under your arm.” It was an effort to keep her voice level with any amount of sass lacing the letters together. Rowan’s morning voice was truly a work of art, slightly deeper than normal and raspy from sleep. If he listened closely, he could probably hear her heart pounding away in her chest.

“That isn’t what it felt like,” he murmured, pushing his hips flush against her ass. One shaky inhale later, she was rolling out of bed. Rowan’s hand fisted the sheets where she had just been, eyes sleepy and squinting against the morning sun.

“We can go back to shouting then.” With a coy flip of her hair over her shoulder, she slipped into the bathroom as he flopped onto his back, hand running down his face.

The shower was so cold she was shivering by the end, her skin pink from the failed attempt to scrub away the feeling of his body pressed too tightly against hers.

~*~

“This is the most depressing thing I have ever had to do,” Aelin mumbled, fingers working black hair color into Fenrys’s roots. The shitty box dye was going to wreck the stunning threads of gold and she hated that she had any part in it. When she went down for breakfast her heart had nearly fallen out of her ass at the sight of Fenrys and Connall with close-cropped cuts. Thankfully there was some length remaining on top where their curls were able to thrive, but it wasn’t enough. It could barely be tucked behind their ears. It felt like a crime.

Aelin had already dyed, washed, and styled her hair into soft waves. She even took to snipping at the ends until her burgundy strands grazed the tops of her breasts. It had taken up the first two hours of the morning— the last thirty of it spent frowning at her reflection. Ever since she was little, her golden waves had been a source of pride. When she put in the green contacts, all of her remarkable features would vanish down the drain.

“It’ll wash out,” Fen reminded her. “And it’s just hair.”

“It’s going to take forever to grow back and probably just as long for the dye to wash out. This shit is hard to come back from.” It would be easier for her, but not for him. Evidently, Fenrys didn’t know that. A frown took over his entire face as he looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. While being identical, there were subtle differences between the twin’s faces that those close to them could point out. He was still beautiful, but his naturally golden blonde hair had made him look like the sun to Connall’s moon. Now they were both night-kissed with darkness.

There was no chance in hell that they could swap places without anyone catching it. As soon as Fenrys opened his mouth anyone would be able to tell that they most definitely were not the same person. Where his brother was calm and subdued, Fen was a raging storm of chaos and Aelin loved that about him.

“Now we let it cook,” she sighed, plopping a processing cap over the top to keep the hair from slipping over his forehead and staining his skin.

With a pat on his shoulder, she headed for the kitchen with Fenrys trailing behind her. Aelin grabbed a bag of grapes from the fridge and slid onto one of the barstools while she skimmed the file of her temporary identity. Having read through it several times already, the facts about her fake life were cemented into her mind.

Her name was Lillian Gordaina, and she was the Duchess of a small territory south of Bellhaven in Fenharrow. They received their titles and territory a year ago as a wedding gift when she married her husband, Asher Gordaina, the Duke. Both of them came from royal bloodlines, and their pairing and the work they did together is what had their Lord and Lady titles. While they didn’t have any children, they loved their dogs and were very involved with animal rights charities and the arts. According to the king and queen, they represented what the future could and should be like. Their attendance at the ball alongside Fenharrow nobles was to properly introduce them to royals from other countries.

Terrasen had a quite strong allegiance with Fenharrow, partially because her uncle was good friends with their king and queen. It was likely that he spoke with them to loop them in without giving away too much detail of the mission. Aelin wasn’t sure a real Duke and Duchess even existed for that little cluster of villages, or if they were taking an imaginary workload from the ones that oversaw Bellhaven. Not that it mattered, but she still wondered.

“Aelin?” Rowan’s voice carried down the hall from their bedroom and caused her heart to lurch beneath her ribs. Aelin’s eyes slipped shut as she dropped her forehead against Fen’s shoulder harder than she meant to. A dull throb pulsed between her eyebrows and he patted her sympathetically on the shoulder.

“Say I’ve died,” she whispered with pleading eyes as she lifted her head.

“Considering how little I want to experience his raw panic at that phrase, I’m going to offer a piping hot fuck no to that little request of yours.” And to think she thought she’d won everyone but Lorcan in the divorce.

Aelin tsked as she rose to her feet, back arching in a feline stretch. She savored another grape, eyes unfocused and staring out the window and wondering how long it would take for him to come looking for her. Fenrys swiveled in his seat and guided her with a hand on her waist until she was forced to take the first damning steps toward her ex-boyfriend. Fenrys was a traitorous bastard.

Shoulders rolling to loosen her arms, she steeled herself for a fight. Rowan hadn’t sounded angry when he called for her, but it was odd that he was seeking her out for anything to begin with. The uncertainty had her on high alert as her toes crossed the threshold into their room. Rowan was found sitting on a stool in the bathroom, running his hand over the back of his neck.

No evidence of his silver hair remained on his head, nor in the bits of hair on the floor around him. It was now a dirty blonde that toed the line of being light brown. They both looked equally surprised at the other’s makeovers and neither said anything for a moment. Their eyes remained locked through the mirror as she leaned against the bathroom door.

“Hey,” he said finally, reaching up to scratch his jaw.

“Hi?” It came out as perplexed as she felt. Even her nose was wrinkled a bit as he turned to look at her directly.

“I was uh– I was wondering if you’d help me cut the longer bit.” Rowan motioned to the pair of scissors that lay beside the clippers he’d used for the parts he wanted shorter. “I don’t trust any of the guys with scissors near my head, and you always did a good job.”

There were times when Rowan shaved his head in the early days of their relationship for ease of things while deployed. Once he started letting it grow back in, Aelin had watched a thousand tutorials on how to cut men’s hair. Eventually, she was pretty good at it. Not enough to quit her job and start a new business, but well enough that Rowan asked her for haircuts and trims when he was home.

“Of course.” She pushed off the door and reached for the scissors, Rowan’s hand darting out to stop her from picking them up. Her raised eyebrows asked the question her lips didn’t have to say.

“Without fucking it up.” The corners of her mouth twitched into a smile, her fingers closing around the cool metal. She grabbed the comb with her other hand and began running it through his hair. Because she had the excuse, her fingers slipped through the silky strands as she debated on how to cut it. Rowan took the moment to shake his arms out, loosening the muscles that seemed to stay too tight when she was around.

“Relax,” she mused, slipping into the space between his thighs. Using her fingertips, she tilted his head from one side to the other. “I’m cutting your hair, not getting ready to kick your ass in a sparring match.”

Rowan snorted but seemed to ease up if only a little. His hands were resting flat against his thigh, one leg bouncing to dispel anxious energy. When he bumped into her she shot him a warning glare, snipping the scissors in his face as a reminder of what might happen if he didn’t take a breath and chill out.

Aelin began cutting, taking her time to ensure it was even. Rowan alternated from sitting with his eyes closed to gazing up at her face. The only other place for him to look was at her chest, and he seemed to be doing an okay job of avoiding that. She was pretty sure she caught him a few times, though.

“Your hair was so pretty,” she sighed, moving to stand beside him while she cut the sides and around to the back. “Now it’s ruined.”

“You don’t like me like this, Princess?” Aelin’s tongue ran over her teeth as she glanced at him briefly in the mirror.

“I always liked you however you happened to be.” It felt like too vulnerable a thing to say, especially when he turned his head to look at her. Ignoring his eyes, Aelin turned his head forward. “Be still. I’m almost done.”

A few minutes later she was back between his legs and working a pomade through his freshly dyed locks. Considering how long it had been since she’d readied him for any sort of occasion, it took her longer than it used to. She was probably being a little nit-picky, but they had a photoshoot in two hours where they had to look royal for crying out loud. If there was a time to be precise, it was now.

“There. Perfect.” Aelin smiled a little and turned, reaching for the faucet to wash her hands. Halfway his fingers caught hers and tugged. Ever so slowly, she turned back to look at him. The calluses of his free palm scratched against her skin as they slowly wrapped around the back of her thigh just above her knee.

A suppressed shiver broke free as it dragged up her side and finally reached hesitantly toward her face. The other spread her fingertips until he could weave their fingers together. If he noticed the residue of the pomade on her hands, he didn’t seem to care. She knew she should stop this– that she should pull away from him and haul ass to the kitchen to wash her hands to put distance between them. Instead, she leaned into the first brush of his hand against her cheek.

Their eyes were locked, his pupils blown wide with what could only be desire. The heat of his body so close had her taking another small step toward him without needing to be guided. Her legs were trapped between his and in this secret moment, she didn’t want to be anywhere else.

The pad of his thumb brushed over her jaw while his hand slid around, fingers nestling perfectly into the dip at the base of her skull. All of the air in the room must have been sucked out because she was finding it increasingly hard to breathe. Each breath was measured and it seemed like he was doing the same thing as he gently guided her face closer to his.

Rowan untangled his hand from hers and guided her hand to the side of his neck where her fingers immediately twined into the hair at his nape. Almost involuntarily, she traced over the cupid’s bow of his lips with her free hand. In a moment of aching defeat, she rested her forehead against his and allowed her eyes to close. For a long moment, they just breathed each other in. It was a breathtaking intimacy that only two people that loved each other deeply could share.

The grief that steeped in her mind like a long-forgotten cup of tea washed over her. It became abundantly clear that she had never worked through it. Their relationship had always been more about their romantic feelings. He was her very best friend as much as her lover, sometimes more so. This moment didn’t poke and prod at the wounds that still felt so fresh most days. It soothed them.

Never stilling the movements of his hand that ran up and down her side, he pulled back just enough to look at her. The tips of their noses brushed as he whispered her name like it was the most reverent prayer he could offer to any god. Aelin shivered, lips parting on a shallow breath. Rowan’s mouth grazed the corner of her’s and he looked at her one more time like he was asking permission. There was a desperation in his eyes that she hadn’t seen in ages.

It was a man begging the god he worshiped. For what, she didn’t know. If it was forgiveness he sought it would be a long time coming. Or was it just the taste of her lips that he needed? Was he begging to brand her skin with the touch of his hands, his lips, his tongue? The crumbling self-control she grasped for was slipping like sand through her fingers. At the soft whisper of her name, it blew away with the wind.

Whatever expression lay on her face must have been good enough because the next moment his lips were on hers and she was unraveling at the taste of him. Nothing mattered but the feeling of his hands on her body, of his lips taking little breaks to press sweet kisses to her cheeks before claiming her mouth again. At the first brush of his tongue her knees nearly gave out, the grip she had on his hair tightening until he groaned low in his throat. It wasn’t the sound of pain, but one of pleasure.

The fingerprints she left on his neck and jaw were sticky from the pomade, but neither of them cared enough to stop. The strokes of his tongue were exploratory like he wanted to relearn every part of her. His lips were starving to memorize every inch, every dip, curve, and angle of her body until it was scorched into his memory. Aelin needed it, she realized. She needed to taste him, feel him beneath her fingertips. Every atom in her body was aching to be touched and felt and explored by only him. Only ever Rowan.

The nip of his teeth against her bottom lip didn’t hold the bite of their words. This kiss felt like that first deep breath on a snowy morning. It awoke all of her senses and sent shivers down her spine and heat blazing across her skin. The warmth of his body grounded her as his hand pressed against the small of her back and pressed her chest flush against his. Rowan’s lips seared trails of fire down her jaw and neck, then back up to capture her mouth again and she wanted to burn right here in this spot forever. Desire and need flooded her body and pooled in her core. The moan that slipped through her lips was caught with his teeth and tongue. Shaking hands contracted against her sides, fingertips digging into her skin roughly as he pulled her toward him and—

And then he pushed her back, ripping his mouth from hers. The heat of his body vanished as he leaned back to put space more between them. A thousand emotions flashed through his eyes before he managed to pull any kind of mask together by clearing his throat.

“There.” Spare bravado was pulled from his pockets as he smirked, dropping his hands from her waist. She hated how much she missed the contact. “Now we’re even from this morning.”

It would be a bald-faced lie to say the words didn’t burn worse than flames licking at her skin. But she also knew Rowan Whitethorn better than she knew anyone. As good as he was at hiding his emotions from everyone around him, there was no point in even trying when it came to Aelin. She looked into his eyes and could see that it was about more than just this morning. There was no possible way that those kisses had meant nothing more than settling an imaginary score. Not when his chest was heaving and his cheeks were stained a rosy red. Words said one thing, but the intent way his eyes remained focused on her said something else entirely. He was a predator hunting his prey and she would let him devour her.

Unless that was all it had been: a game. The thought cut deep and she had no one to blame but herself. A stupid game she accidentally started this morning because being a pain in his ass was easier than being civil.

Her lips pressed together in a thin line and she had to ball her hands into fists to hide their tremors. Fresh heat crept over her cheeks and down her neck as she nodded once and stepped out of his reach lest he try and touch her again. It wasn’t a luxury she could afford to indulge in. That one would wreck her and everything she was entirely.

“Next time I’m fucking up your hair,” she quipped, pockets empty of her usual swagger. Aelin didn’t look at him again as she walked out and grabbed what she needed to finish getting ready for the afternoon.

The bathroom she chose to get ready in wasn’t nearly far enough from Rowan. Close was too close but far was too far. Every cell in her body needed to be touched by him, to feel his muscles flex and relax beneath her fingertips. It was a slow descent into madness that she wasn’t sure would ever be able to crawl out of if she kept going down that forgotten, overgrown path.

Even though he was currently winning the game with no rules between them, one thing was for certain: Aelin would be the one to secure victory over the whole damn thing.

~*~

“The gods are playing a cosmic joke on me,” Aelin said to Fenrys, staring at the gown she was expected to wear for the photoshoot in half an hour. Even her friend was gobsmacked over the miles and miles of tulle and lace that seemed to take up half the room.

Simply put, it was the dress for a royal that couldn’t show too much but gave just enough. The monstrosity of a dress would turn her into a walking cupcake and she was already imagining how itchy the lace sleeves would be that ran down to her wrists. It was a far cry from what she would have worn for her wedding, but she supposed that didn’t matter. Not anymore, not ever.

“At least it couldn’t be further from what you would actually wear,” Fen offered, carefully pulling it off the hanger. The comfort was lost as she sighed heavily and undressed to her undergarments. allowed him to zip her into the dress. Fen zipped her into it, careful to avoid getting the excess fabric caught in the teeth. The skirts were so long that she would have to carry them to avoid getting tripped up on the short walk to the living area.

“If Rowan says a single smarmy thing, I will throttle him while wearing this dress.”

“I’ll take videos and send them to everyone I know. It’ll travel quickly through the entire military and he’ll never live it down.” Aelin chuckled darkly, heaving the skirts up as the funeral procession to her twisted fate began.

Over the last hour, the sitting room was carefully staged for the photos. They were only doing a handful of poses and she was thankful for it. With that kiss still haunting every corner and crevice of her mind, she was uncertain how long she could be near him without combusting.

Rowan may have made it about a game, yet she wasn’t entirely sure it was. Games were far more reckless, but maybe he was aiming to destroy her like she thought she was trying to do to him. At the thought of those slow, exploratory kisses she stumbled. The combination of her sock and the tulle made the floor much more slippery than it should have been. Fenrys caught her elbow to keep her from falling outright and she murmured a quiet thank you.

If it wasn’t for the swishing of the gown, she would have been able to sneak up on the rest of the Cadre. Rowan and Lorcan were discussing something with their backs to her, while Vaughan and Connall shared a bowl of popcorn. When Rowan turned around she pointed a finger at him and then every other man in the room.

“I don’t want to hear a single word.” Her voice was hard, eyes slightly narrowed. Rowan’s mouth opened but she swung her finger back around to him. “Not. One. Word.”

In a shocking display of self-control, his jaws clamped shut. For once, his expression was unreadable as he scanned her from head to toe. The feeling of not being able to read his thoughts on his face was foreign. Aelin did not like it.

Rowan didn’t look like a dessert the way she did. Well, he did, but she shoved those thoughts far out of her mind as she looked at him. Aelin had always loved him in a tux and this was no exception. It was a simple black with a bow tie hugging his neck. A few medals and pins signified he was of some military ranking for Fenharrow like most of the royal men were. Aelin didn’t bother looking too closely, it would just wind her even tighter than she already was.

“Are we ready?” The photographer asked. It was a young man she had met a few times over the years named Luca. While she had the strongest desire to say that no, she wasn’t and would likely never be, she nodded. As she came to a stop at Rowan’s side, a woman she hadn’t noticed and was unfamiliar with adjusted her skirts around them. “Where is Aelin’s ring?”

“I have it,” Rowan said, lifting her hand and sliding it into place. His lips were pressed so tightly together that they had disappeared entirely. This was going to be harder than she thought, much like the rest of her current job requirements.

“Relax. It’s a fake ring, not your death sentence,” she hissed, yanking her hand away and adjusting the fake diamond ring on her finger. Like the dress, she supposed it was pretty but wasn’t her style at all. It was a large stone surrounded by a dozen or so smaller ones. Where she preferred true yellow gold, it was silver. Not that her thoughts on the fake wedding ring she wore mattered.

The pair of soldiers were painfully stiff during the shoot. Halfway through Fenrys marched over and grabbed Aelin by the hands, shaking her arms around until she was loose and laughing. Though Rowan didn’t dissolve into a fit of laughter as she did, Fen did the same thing to him. It took some time but they were eventually able to lean into each other without looking like they were trying to escape their own skin.

“Can you look at each other and like, I don’t know, pretend you’re looking at someone you love?” Luca asked halfway through. The poor kid was completely unaware of their volatile history. Their peanut gallery groaned, anticipating violence to be brewing in their eyes.

“That would take an entire bottle of whiskey each,” Connall murmured, popcorn crunching between syllables. It took Aelin longer than she would have liked to get the courage to look up into Rowan’s face.

Neither of them were up to par because Luca sighed so hard with epic frustration. Aelin looked at the ground and closed her eyes for a moment to collect herself. Large hands flexed at her sides like he was doing the same. Years of unresolved feelings and pain settled heavily between them.

Look at each other and pretend you’re looking at someone you love.

The worst part was that for her, it wasn’t a stretch. She hated it, grinding that irritation to dust between her teeth until they squeaked. It was like nails on a chalkboard and she shivered violently in Rowan’s arms.

“Much better, Rowan. Aelin, this isn’t a battle. Can you like? I don’t know? Relax?” Each staccato phrase flipped up at the ends like a question. With a dry look at Luca, she took a moment to open her mouth as wide as she could to stretch out her jaw. She practiced smiling at Fenrys who gave her an encouraging thumbs up. It took a few extra wiggles to loosen her limbs, but she looked back up at Rowan.

Just like this morning, his features had softened around the edges. He brought one hand up to rest along her jaw and gazed down at her with a familiarity that made her stomach flip. With her heart taking off in her chest, she found it harder to breathe when he was looking at her like that. Aelin lightly held onto his wrist, the other on his waist, and let out a long breath.

“If it’ll help,” Rowan murmured, his thumb idly stroking along her jaw, “We can go outside and you can kick my ass after this.”

As much as she didn’t want to, she laughed. At the sound that came barrelling out of her, Rowan grinned widely. Click click click. Luca fired away, a few of the shots while they were in light motion. Aelin shaking her head at Rowan, him leaning his face a little closer to hers.

“We can do the garden shots and be done. I’m sure they can work with what we have.” Their young photographer announced. Relief flooded her body in cooling waves. The gown was unzipped before she made it to their room, heaps of fabric falling into a pile on the floor just inside the room.

It helped that she didn’t feel like herself at all. The hair, the contacts, and the clothing style were so at odds with her own. None of it was her. It was a character she was playing. Not being able to recognize herself had her wondering if it made things easier for Rowan, too.

~*~

Seeing Aelin in a wedding gown, however ridiculous it may have been, was nearly enough to send him to his knees.

Trying to reign in his emotions and school his features into a bored mask had been difficult. While he knew it was nothing like her, Aelin in a white gown implying that she was wholly his for the rest of his life was soul-crushing. It took everything in him to pretend he was as irritated about the whole thing as she was. Sure, he hated the whole thing. It was a constant struggle to keep his emotions in check through all of it. He just didn’t hate it because he hated her the way she did him.

Rowan’s violent dislike of the situation was because it was a window into their past. It was a glimpse at how things were meant to be years ago when he had dropped the ball time and time again. The distaste that overcame his features while putting the ring on her finger had nothing to do with the act itself, and everything to do with it being the wrong ring. The cheap silver with a CZ stone was not the one that he should have been sliding into place. The dress that made her look like a pastry was not the one she was supposed to be wearing.

It was all just fucking wrong, and every single piece of him was vividly aware of it.

Voicing that wasn’t an option. What good would it do anyway? She was better off without him, always had been, and he wasn’t going to start dragging her down that road now. Rowan could deal with her anger. They could fight it out and have once-in-a-blue-moon moments together when they were alone and it would sustain him. It had to be enough because it was all he could give her.

The only future for them would be a working relationship full of barbed comments and wicked words slung like gunfire. Aelin would keep being mad at him and he would let her because it was easier than the alternative. Even asking, begging for forgiveness as he should, was too much to put her through. She bore enough wounds on her heart and soul to him. There was no reason to add any more.

And he damn sure wouldn’t be kissing her like that again. Not when the feeling of her soft lips and the taste of her tongue had undone him so thoroughly his hands still shook. All of the walls he had erected over the last several years where she was concerned were crumbling at an alarming rate. Calling it a game had been a shitty attempt at self-preservation in the moment, one he hoped she didn’t see through like glass.

“You good?” She asked him as they walked through the garden. Aelin had changed into a long-sleeved, brown turtleneck. Her pants were a few shades darker and wide-legged with cream-colored shoes peeking out as they walked. Rowan was wearing a simple navy blue suit with the collar of his shirt undone.

“Yep,” he replied, adjusting his hand until their fingers laced together. These photos were just meant to look candid like they had been caught on a stroll. In a few, Aelin had the smart idea to smile and wave toward the camera like she had spotted paparazzi. Though he knew she would be good at this, it was still a little surprising that she had thought of something to make it that much more tangibly believable.

“We’re almost done. Then you can go back to hating my guts.” She looked up at him and smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Rowan hated those contacts. It was like a wall between them and he felt like he couldn’t see her anymore.

“I don’t hate you, Aelin.” Rowan sighed at the truth and immediately wanted to shove it back down his throat. Waterboarding was less painful than giving her pieces of him that were real these days. “I do, however, hate the contacts.”

“Do you know how weird it is that your eyes are brown right now?”

“Probably as weird it is for me that yours are green,” he murmured just as Luca announced the ending of their session.

Aelin groaned a thank you to the gods and dropped his hand so abruptly it was like he’d been burning her the entire time. The heels came off and were carried back to the house, both of them quiet. The heartbeats of silence were heavy and he couldn’t decide if it was better or worse than the chaos of their arguments. At least with the arguments, he knew what she was thinking.

“I might take you up on training later,” she finally said as they walked through the back door.

“Oh?”

“I’m going to do some shopping for civilian attire, but maybe when I get back?” Aelin paused and turned to look at him, her eyebrows slightly raised. It felt stupid, but Rowan thought he might be able to read her better if she just took out those stupid lenses.

“You don’t want to train with Fenrys instead?”

Aelin’s eyes rolled and then crossed as she stuck her tongue out at him and replied, “Are you still making me promises you don’t intend to keep?”

It was a cheap shot meant to get under his skin, and Mala fucking flay him, it did. For the first time all day, something almost playful flashed in her eyes while waiting for an answer. This woman was going to be the death of him.

“I’m not— No. Find me when you get back.”

“I won’t be pulling my punches,” she said as she turned to walk away. A warning or a promise, he wasn’t sure. He didn’t know which option he preferred, either.

“I wouldn’t expect you to.” His words were said to nothing and no one because, by the time he finally found something to say, she was already gone.

@elentiyawhitethorn @autumnbabylon @fancysludgeshoelamp @wordsafterhours @live-the-fangirl-life @the-hospitality-of-knives @tangledraysofsunshine @readandlisten @westofmoon @rowanaelinn @morganofthewildfire @writtenonreceipts @feynightlight @emster1622-blog @scarblx @thefaetrove @loveyatopluto @actuallybarb @peppermint-fae @the-devils-own @scottmcgivemeacall @livingmylifeforme @wordsafterhours @foreverfallingforthestars @llyncooljones @emily-gsh @loosesimplicity @emilyrose111294 @charlizeed @aelinchocolatelover @cretaceous-therapod @sayosdreams @fireheart-violet @the-regal-warrior @backtobl4ck @shyvioletcat @bellasbookboyfriends @icantfindmychashma @swankii-art-teacher

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renxzs · 11 months

Text

hold on, i still need you // rowaelin // 2.5k // masterlist

cw: a smidge of angst..

a/n: This was inspired by the story within this music video. For some reason teen Ren loved the shit out of it even though it was kind of sad? haha. After stumbling across the video again recently, I thought, “Rowaelin? Why not..” @highqueenofelfhame is also to thank for this first attempt at angst (hope it doesn’t suck? lolol)

Also, major shoutout to my girly @backtobl4ck for helping with the title. It was a grueling journey (hahah), but we got there!

Rowan threaded the worn leather belt through the loops of his jeans, cinching the buckle into place. A pleasant warmth settled in his chest as it did every time he looked at her. Helpless to the broad, eye crinkling grin stretching his lips at the sight of his girlfriend’s sprawled form on their bed, thoroughly sated. His inner ego couldn’t help but be stroked by that fact.

As she basked in sleepy contentment, Rowan already knew her answer but he asked anyway. “Baby, you sure you don’t want to come?”

Aelin hummed curling into the satin pillow with a languid, blissed-out smile. “You go, enjoy time with the boys.”

The silky nightgown she’d slipped back on had shifted with her movement, edging up the soft curve of her hip to expose miles of that smooth, tanned skin he loves so much to worship. And that cloying smile on her pretty lips, all pink and kiss-swollen…

Gods above, he’d just had her--her low moans and soft whimpers still ringing clear in his ears--and yet his body was aching for more.

But if he missed another guys’ night, he’d never hear the fucking end of it from Lorcan. Rowan swallowed down the rising groan at the thought of leaving her in their bed looking so delectable.

He needed to go though, if only to obtain his best kept secret that’s been in Fenrys’ possession for safekeeping the last few weeks. It was time.

Rowan dropped a kiss to Aelin’s brow. “I love you, fireheart.”

“Mm, love you, buzzard.”

He chuckled, running his fingers through her glossy locks. Her eyes were already closed when he slipped from their room.

Rowan slid his phone and wallet into his pockets and headed down the stairs of the apartment building, taking two at a time. Stepping out into the cool evening air, he immediately spotted Lorcan’s car parked along the curb.

The barest hint of a smirk disrupted his friend’s usual scowl as he called out the lowered window. “Glad to see you didn’t punk out, Whitethorn.”

Rowan chuckled and raised a middle finger as he made his way around to the passenger side. He was in for one hell of a night.

While a larger part of him longed to be home and wrapped around Aelin in their bed, Rowan would begrudgingly admit that the night out with the guys had been nice.

Vaughn and Fenrys already had a ridiculous variety of appetizers littering the tabletop by the time he and Lorcan arrived. Just looking at the heaps of deep-fried, greasy foods gave Rowan a stomachache. Fenrys, unsurprisingly, had also sweet-talked the bartender into relinquishing him control over the music--something that should never be allowed. Lorcan sat with a pinched look for half the evening when Fen took to belting out his all-time favorites.

After a few beers and two rounds of pool, Vaughn had headed out. He’d been the first among their friends to embark on fatherhood with a newborn now at home--and he was proudly owning the Dad title already. Their little family admittedly had Rowan often envisioning what his own future could look like as of late. It had hit him like a brick to the face, that intense sense of yearning the first time he saw Aelin cooing over the infant cradled in her arms. He wanted that and more with her.

Cracking pool balls and an obnoxious whoop! from Fenrys dragged Rowan’s attention back to the game. They’d agreed to a final round before calling it a night. Rowan chalked the tip of his pool stick as he sidled up to the table on his turn, scouting the best angle to shoot from before proceeding to sink two balls back to back. Lorcan snorted when Fenrys’ sounds of celebration turned to groans of dismay.

Easing back onto his barstool, Rowan took a swig of beer in a failed attempt to keep his mind from drifting. The small luxe box he’d secured from Fenrys earlier was burning a hole through the inner pocket of his jacket. The sparkling stone on the engagement ring he’d designed for Aelin looked exactly as he’d remembered when picking it up from the jeweler weeks ago.

Knowing Aelin and her penchant for uncovering surprises, Rowan didn’t dare run the risk of bringing the ring back with him into their home. With Elide in the picture, Lorcan was also out of the question. So instead, Rowan--albeit a bit reluctantly--handed the ring over to Fenrys for safekeeping.

He and Aelin were heading out of the city for the upcoming weekend, escaping to her family’s cabin in the Staghorn Mountains. And now with the ring finally back in his possession, if everything went according to plan, Rowan would be starting the weekend with his girlfriend and ending it with his fiancée.

Gods above, he couldn’t wait to marry her.

Rowan’s phone came alive, bright and buzzing across the sticky tabletop. Emrys scrolled across the screen for an incoming call. His brows drew together.

Emrys and his husband lived on the floor below their apartment. Aelin had made fast friends with him, and the friendship only grew substantially stronger with every baked good he’d bring upstairs to share.

Green eyes flicked to the time displayed in the top corner of the screen and his scowl deepened. Why would Emrys be calling at this hour?

Rowan swiped his thumb across the screen to answer. “Hello?”

“Oh, thank gods.” Emrys’ relief was palpable through the line. “There’s a fire, Rowan. But I’m so glad you are out. The whole building is up in flames–”

Static drowned everything out and the bar and everyone around him fell away to nothing.

Fire?

Building up in flames?

Perplexed, both Fenrys and Lorcan looked over at Rowan with raised brows as the phone slipped through his fingers and clattered to the floor.

“I need to go.” Rowan spoke numbly. His body didn’t feel like his own, pushing off the stool as wide eyes sought out his friends. “I- I need to go,” he repeated. “There’s a fire- Aelin. I need to get to Aelin.”

A beat of silence passed as Fenrys and Lorcan stood frozen in disbelief, then in a split second Lorcan was shoving his pool stick into Fenrys’ hands and snatching up his keys. The blonde was already nodding, saying something about covering the tab and for them to just go.

Lorcan clapped Rowan behind the neck, turning him towards the door. “Let's go. I’ll drive.”

The next moments were a blur. Rowan had barely gathered enough wits to swipe his phone off the filthy floor before racing out of the bar, dialing Aelin’s number over and over and over. Her pretty face smiling up at him every time he hit call, only for the line to ring and ring before clicking over to voicemail.

Rowan’s leg bounced anxiously in the small space as his thumb smashed the call button again. He was going to fucking vomit. She had to be okay. He needed her to be.

Lorcan cursed as they sped down the empty streets of downtown, wheels screeching on a sharp turn. Never had the man driven so recklessly before. Lorcan’s usual calm-and-collected demeanor was fractured by the panic edging in his own voice as he demanded “What fire?” but Rowan didn’t know--didn’t have the words or mental capacity to think about anything other than how he needed to get to Aelin.

Lorcan had to of broken at least a dozen traffic laws by the time they approached Rowan’s block, but–

Holy gods. The whole fucking building was ablaze.

His frantic gaze bounced around the gathering crowd but there was no golden blonde hair in sight. Stomach sinking further with dread, his eyes inevitably fell back to the burning building.

His fireheart, trapped inside.

Rowan tore out of the car before Lorcan could bring it to a complete stop. He made a beeline for the building, weaving through loitering bodies, only to be stopped in the front lawn by a firefighter. Rowan heard himself yelling over the noise of surrounding chaos, maybe Aelin’s name, but it wasn’t intelligible even to his own ears.

“Sir, you need to stay calm and keep back,” the man instructed firmly. His solid arms outstretched to block Rowan from getting past.

“Calm?!” How was he expected to be fucking calm with the woman he loves--his entire world--trapped inside a burning building?

“My girlfriend is in there!” Rowan roared, jabbing a finger in the direction of the flaming structure. And, oh gods- the new realization nearly choked him as a fresh wave of terror wrapped itself around his throat and flooded his chest. “She was sleeping.”

He didn’t know which thought was worse. Aelin unwittingly lying unconscious amidst danger, or her being very much aware but alone and terrified.

Sympathy flashed across the fireman’s stern face, but he still gave Rowan another firm push back. “Sir, please. I promise you we will do everything we can to get all tenants out of the building.”

Rowan shoved away from the man and stalked back toward the road, fingers ripping through his hair. Aelin is inside.Aelin is inside.Aelin is inside. The words barreled through his mind on a torturous loop.

He hadn’t realized the tears gathering in his eyes until his gaze cut back to the building and all he saw was a blur of vibrant oranges and yellows. He rapidly blinked the tears away, glancing around wildly, his harsh breaths sounding so loud in his ears, not entirely sure of what he was looking for.

Rowan halted mid turn, gaze snagging on one of the trucks a few feet away. He was sprinting toward it without further thought. Hands ran blindly over the cool metal until they found a handle, yanking open the compartment door to reveal additional bunker gear. His eyes landed on a repellent jacket. He snatched it up, shoving his arms through the garment while eyeing the nearby firemen before making a run for the building.

Rowan faintly registered Lorcan yelling after him in the distance, but he paid him no mind. He needed to get to Aelin.

Everything burned. Her eyes, her nose, her throat, her lungs.

Stifling heat rippled through the room. Aelin choked on a sharp inhale, sending her into a hard coughing fit that set everything inside her on fire.

Fire.

Moments of lucidity were slowly threading together as her sleep-ladened mind cleared. Only to be met with the dark haze of smoke.

Aelin shot upright in bed, wheezing and coughing. Every inhale burned like her lungs were being flayed. She had never realized how loud fire actually was until it was roaring around her, suffocating and ripping through the little home she and Rowan had poured their hearts into.

Gods, Rowan. Thank Mala he wasn’t home. Aelin’s teeth chattered almost violently, her hands trembling against her bare thighs as she contemplated her options, but… but at least Rowan wasn’t in danger, too.

She scrambled out of bed and dropped to the floor, trying frantically to recall the fire safety tactics taught so long ago in school. Sweat beaded on her forehead, the room sweltering. Raging flames behind the closed door of their bedroom had her flinching away. What was she supposed to do? How was she going to get out?

Aelin clenched her jaw to stifle the cry crawling up from the depths of her chest. She would not panic. She would not–

The bedroom door splintered into pieces. Aelin’s head whipped in the direction of the sound to find a flash of silver hair barreling towards her.

Rowan.

She croaked his name but the roar of burning flames around them drowned out her broken voice.

She lurched up from the floor toward him. Tears stung her eyes as her outstretched arms desperately reached for him. The sheer relief of seeing him nearly crippling as a sob lodged itself in her throat. His lips crashed against hers, murmuring her name over and over as he held her against him in a bone crushing embrace.

Rowan drew back to look her over, hands smoothing over her face and hair before his eyes darted about the room.

He shrugged the fireman’s jacket off and guided her arms into it. “We need to get out of here,” he said, almost to himself. Aelin’s shaking hands pushed through the armholes before clinging onto him again.

Rowan abruptly wrapped her in his arms, bowing over her small frame as he turned them to shield her body from the pressurized heat bursting through the bedroom doorway. Blistering flames rippled in, spreading over the far wall. Pictures of their happiest moments curled in on themselves before charring to nothing.

“Baby, hold onto me okay?” Rowan said in a rush, hooking an arm under her legs and lifting her bridal style in one fluid motion. Aelin’s heart thundered in her ears but she trusted him irrevocably with her life and only nodded, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. Rowan was quick on his feet, hurrying toward the door of their French balcony.

The cool evening air was like a balm against her sweaty, stinging skin. Rowan stared back at the growing flames engulfing their bedroom before looking down at the drop to ground level. Her stomach plummeted with the realization--there was nowhere to go but down.

“Ro-” Just the small utterance of his name burned in her throat.

Those beautiful deep green eyes she loved so much bored into her and the resolve that swirled within them made her want to sob.

No. This couldn’t be it.

Rowan rested his forehead against hers. “I love you, fireheart. To whatever end.”

Before Aelin could respond, her world was tilting and then they were free-falling amongst flakes of ash. She squeezed her eyes shut and held onto Rowan with everything she had. They would be okay. They had to be okay. They needed–

A resounding ache reverberated through her bones upon force of impact. She wheezed, gasping for breath that’d been abruptly knocked from her. The whir of sirens gradually increased as Aelin blearily blinked her eyes open, awareness creeping back in.

Rowan.

She rolled over, his warm body still under her. Tears sprang to her eyes and her chest constricted painfully as she took in the sight of him--eyes closed and looking utterly… lifeless.

He wasn't. He couldn't be.

A mangled sound caught between a scream and sob tore its way from her bleeding, raw throat. Rowan’s name both a plea and prayer on her lips as she gripped the lapels of his jacket and shook vehemently.

No. No no no!

Tears burned her eyes and throat, spilling over her splotchy cheeks, as she cried out his name over and over, unable to let him go--refusing to. Not when firemen swarmed them, shouting things she couldn’t comprehend. Not when a familiar gruff voice spoke her name, cutting through the static as his strong arms wrapped around her from behind and pulled her from her love.

Aelin would never let him go.

tags: @highqueenofelfhame // @perpetuallyperplexed21

#rowaelin #rowaelin fic #aelin x rowan #throne of glass fic #angst #rowan whitethorn #aelin ashryver galathynius #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass fanfiction

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