#modern au x rowan whitethorn

[leiawritesstories]

rowaelin fic with aelin as a model? youre such an inspiration!!💞

AWWWWWWW THANK YOU SO MUCH 🥺🥰 also HOW did i never see this??? stupid inbox 😠

i love this!! let's see.......

word count: 2.1k (whoopsies)

warnings: none!

enjoy!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The metro was late.

Aelin was already running a few minutes behind thanks to an unexpected Fleetfoot accident that had required her to change her clothes while soothing the golden retriever puppy, and she'd practically run the whole twelve blocks from her apartment to the metro stop. Of course the damn train would be late on today of all days, the one day in her calendar that she couldn't afford to miss except for death or grievous injury.

The characteristic screech of train brakes yanked her out of her thoughts, and she stepped to the edge of the platform and hurried onto the train as soon as the doors swished open. She clutched her small leather mini tote against her chest and grabbed onto a bar for stability, planting her heeled boots solidly against the floor and adjusting her stance as the train moved.

Twenty minutes later, she hurried off the train, half-sprinting through the station and barely registering her frantic pace until she was out on the street. She glanced at her smart watch and released a short breath when she saw that she still had adequate time to get to her agency before she would be considered late. Smoothly, she joined the people moving along the sidewalks, her long slender legs taking fluid, easy strides as she slid through the crowds. It was a little less than ten minutes until she reached a sleek modern high-rise, all black glass and unbroken lines, strode through the front doors, and waved at the security guard by the elevator.

"Morning, Phil!"

The middle-aged man's solid face creased into a tiny smile. "Morning, Miss Aelin." No matter how many times she told him she was just an ordinary woman, he refused to call her anything else.

To the world, after all, she was Aelin Galathynius, famed for her runway walk, magazine cover model, and face of the wildly popular brand Ennar.

"You're still early, Miss Aelin," Phil said quietly as Aelin stepped into the elevator. "Good luck."

"Thank you," she murmured, throwing the kind man a grateful smile. The elevator doors slid closed with a soft chime, and she closed her eyes and took deep, measured breaths as she traveled up to the twenty-first floor.

Ding! The sleek steel doors slid open, and she released her breath, opened her eyes, and strode out into the minimalist-modern offices of the Blackbeak Modeling Agency. The familiar ivory walls, marble, neutral-toned artwork, and black-and-white photographs blurred past as she headed for her agent's office.

She knocked twice and the door popped open. "Personal service? I thought you had interns for that, Blackbeak."

"Funny," deadpanned Manon Blackbeak, a former international supermodel and a hell of a terrifying woman. She'd been Aelin's agent since Aelin entered the professional modeling world at eighteen. "You made it just in time, Galathynius."

"What's with the call time?" Aelin inquired. She took her usual seat in the ivory wingback chair across from Manon's. "It seems like an odd time for a shoot, fitting, or casting. Is it something with Ennar?"

"It's a new opportunity." Manon reached into her desk and pulled out a portfolio, which she slid to Aelin. "They reached out to us yesterday hoping we'd be interested in setting up four contracts with their brand--short-term at first, but with the potential of extension."

Aelin opened the file and skimmed through the series of glossy photos of clothing--all on mannequins. Each piece was beautifully crafted, showcasing the designer's obvious attention to detail as well as their undeniable artistry. "These are incredible," she murmured.

Manon nodded. "The last few pages are the proposed contract."

"Hmm." Aelin flipped to the draft contract and skimmed through the now-familiar pages of legal and technical jargon. "This almost doesn't seem real. Set my own hours? My own compensation? There's a 'within our schedule parameters' stipulation, but my own pay rate?" Her perfectly shaped brows furrowed. "It seems too good to be true."

"What do you initially think?" Manon drummed her fingernails against her desk. The question seemed brusque, but that was how she operated. She didn't coddle. "Part of the reason you got called in at this time was because the designer is interested in meeting with you. He's here right now."

"What?"

"I'm not a parrot, Galathynius," Manon drawled. "You'd think you were a newbie model with that big-eyed stare on your face."

"Piss off," Aelin snorted. She rearranged her shocked expression and glanced down at the portfolio. "This Mr. --"

"Just Rowan."

"Another single-name designer, then," Aelin mused. "Bold, considering this would be the debut collection."

"Indeed. Are you interested?"

"Yes." Aelin closed the portfolio. "I am."

"Good, because you'd be meeting him anyway." Manon stood and opened her office door. "Let's go, Galathynius. We should get to the meeting room before Rowan and his people do."

"Good idea." Gracefully, Aelin collected the file and her bag, stood up, and followed her agent out of the office and down the hallways to the smaller, cozier conference room. Manon flicked on the lights as they entered, illuminating the warm-toned chestnut table and plush chairs facing the presentation screen. They were the first ones there, so Aelin dropped into a chair that faced the door and waited as Manon sent off a text to the agency head.

"They'll be here in five," the platinum-haired agent said, seating herself next to Aelin. "Sorry for the short notice."

"It's just part of the job, Blackbeak." Aelin waved off Manon's uncharacteristic apology. "And there's certainly no need to say things you don't mean."

"You're right." Manon flashed her a smirk. "In that case, bundle up, because I hear this designer is cold."

Aelin rolled her eyes. "If I can deal with Maeve Bitchface, I can deal with a single-name guy who doesn't have emotions."

"Bold of you to make that assumption before we've even met," interrupted a deep drawl. Filling the doorway stood a tall, fit man with a shock of colorless hair, piercing emerald eyes, and a thick manila file tucked under one muscular arm.

"With all due respect," Aelin deadpanned, fixing her unflinching stare on the man, "you don't work in this industry for years without developing the ability to categorize designers based on what's known about them."

"Fair enough." The man walked into the room, set the file on the conference table, and took the seat directly opposite Aelin. "I'm Rowan."

"Pleasure to meet you in the flesh. I'm Aelin Galathynius; I have a last name like all normal people." With a saccharine smile, she shook his offered hand.

Rowan cracked a tiny grin. "I'm well acquainted with your profile, Miss Galathynius."

"You sound like an FBI officer." She regarded him skeptically. "Am I sure he's a designer and not an undercover cop, Blackbeak?"

Manon snorted. "I'm pretty sure he'd have to kill you if he told you that, Galathynius."

"That's correct." Rowan leant back in his seat, humor lighting up his eyes. "So why don't we assume I'm just a designer who wants to work with you, at least for now?"

"I suppose that's safe enough, at least for now." Aelin steepled her fingers. "I've seen your sample file, Mr. Rowan, and I have to say, I'm impressed. Yours might just be one of the most aesthetically pleasing lines I've seen, and if would be a true honor to wear it."

"Just Rowan, please, and thank you." A soft hint of pink colored the edges of Rowan's cheeks. "My mother used to design clothing, and it's become my passion as much as it's her legacy."

Aelin smiled, softly. "I repeat, it's beautiful."

"Thank you." He cleared his throat and nodded at the dark-haired, stone-faced man next to him. "Since I've decided that you are the model I'd like to work with, my attorney here has brought a preliminary contract." The dark-haired man slid a handful of papers over to Aelin. "Please, have a look, and we can discuss terms."

"Thanks to my agent, I've already been able to look at a draft of the contract." She flipped it to the compensation page. "Set my own pay rate? Is this some kind of trick?"

Rowan exhaled a controlled breath. "No. It's my personal policy that every model I work with sets their own rate of pay."

"Why?" Aelin was genuinely confused--the modeling world didn't run on compassion.

"I've found that the benefits--retention, quality of work, satisfaction, and all of that--outweigh the cost, and not as many people as you may think actually set an outrageously high rate."

"Hmm." She tapped her chin. "That's a surprisingly shrewd decision, Rowan. I wouldn't have expected that in this cutthroat industry."

He shrugged. "I like to think that I'm one of the good guys."

"I'll take you up on that." She penciled a number in the open pay line--a fair bit higher than her usual rate, but not outrageous. "Could you elaborate on what, exactly, my contract includes? The actual details were vague."

"Of course." He opened the folder on the table and spread out a handful of images and sketches. "I'd like to hire you as a brand ambassador. The position would entail walking in my major shows as well as wearing and promoting my brand on your social media accounts and in public. Yes, I'm aware that you work as the brand ambassador for Ennar, and I've spoken with the legal team there. This job shouldn't conflict with your role with Ennar."

"Even though it's essentially the same position?"

"I'm not asking that you focus in my line as intensely as you do with Ennar. Also, my brand is currently only clothing, while that designer is clothing, accessories, and beauty products."

"Indeed." Aelin scribbled on her small notepad. "Well, my initial response to your offer is yes. However, I have a number of personal stipulations that I am unwilling to give up for any job."

"Go ahead." He pulled out a notepad of his own and waited for her to list her rules.

"First, I will not model undergarments."

"That won't be an issue; I have no intention of venturing into that business."

"Good. Second, I have both public and private social media profiles. My public ones are managed by my team, but I have the final say in what gets posted and when, and my brand deals are strictly limited to my public profiles. So, although I'll be wearing your line, it won't be mentioned anywhere on my private pages."

"That shouldn't be a concern, as long as you aren't using your private pages as some kind of undercover scheme where you claim credit for what you're wearing." His voice was carefully controlled, but she detected the tension beneath the control. Someone had done that to him, no doubt.

She fought the unprofessional urge to hold his hands in comfort. "Rowan, I can assure you that my job takes enough of a toll that I need to keep it off my private social media. Also, my private pages are only followed by people that I personally know, and people that know me personally know full well that I can dress, but I'm hopeless are design."

"Okay." Some of the stiffness in his posture melted. "Call me paranoid, but I have to make a living somehow."

"I understand." A reassuring smile flicked over her face. "Thirdly, I don't care what kind of emergency comes up, I don't work Sundays. Ever."

Rowan glanced to Manon. "Ever ever?"

"Never," Manon confirmed. "In the eight years that I've worked with Galathynius, she's never once strayed from that stipulation. I thought it would be a deal-breaker, and it has been at times, but she never works on Sundays. No content, no shows, nothing."

"It's a...personal day," Aelin explained. Unwilling to mention her dad's illness, therapy, or anything else so close to her heart, she left it at that.

"I can work with that." Rowan wrote something down on his notepad. "It shouldn't be frowned upon to try and maintain some normalcy in this hectic world."

"Thank you," Aelin murmured. "Finally, my last stipulation is that my assistant attends every shoot and brand event with me, as I rely on her advice in public situations."

"Of course." He nodded. "Far be it from me to push anyone I work with into a situation where they feel they've been denied the chance to consult someone they trust before making a decision."

"Wonderful. Those are all of my conditions."

He nodded thoughtfully. "All right, Miss Galathynius. Do we have an agreement?"

"Just Aelin, please, and I believe we do."

"Excellent." Standing, he reached across the table and shook her hand. "I look forward to working with you, Aelin."

"As do I."

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

#my writing #answered prompt #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin au #rowaelin modern au #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfic #throne of glass fanfiction

[writtenonreceipts]

Rowaelin Month Day Six: Forced Proximity @rowaelinscourt

link to masterlist here

She is a mess because I wrote her in one day between doing my real job and trying not to cry xoxo

Warnings: mild covid references/quarantine days, very poorly edited

level of concern (tell me we're alright)

The apartment was too small.  Aelin hadn’t noticed it until now, but two rooms and a single bathroom with a kitchen that easily melted into the living room was hardly enough space for two people.  Two people who hated each other.

Aelin threw herself down on the couch, gripping her coffee in one hand.  She’d long ago mastered the art of equilibrium where any sort of caffeine was involved so she didn’t spill anything as she sprawled across the plush cushions.  Groaning, she leaned her head back and tried, so very hard, not to lose her ever loving mind.

It was only week three of quarantine and she was going insane.

She missed going outside whenever she felt like it.  She missed going shopping.  She missed her friends.  She missed people.  Instead, she was trapped here with the one person she did not want to be.

“Do you always have to sound like a dying whale?” A very unamused voice called from the kitchen table, a grand ‘ol four steps away.

Aelin flashed a single finger over the top of the couch.  She got a grunt of disapproval in return.

“It’s eight twenty-two, well outside of your precious quiet hours,” she informed her roommate. “I can do whatever I want.”

Another grunt.

Aelin shifted to peek over the couch to glare. “You sound like a dying walrus.”

And Rowan Whitethorn promptly choked on his cereal.  Two days in a row—Aelin was on a winning streak.

When Aelin first moved to Doranelle three months ago, her plan was to have her own apartment, a dog, a perfect new job, and a social life.  What she got was a crash landing with her nemesis, no dog, the worst job known to man, and quarantine.

She and Rowan had been at each other's throats since they met one fateful night at a bar.  Rowan spilled beer on her, an accident, and promptly insulted her two minutes later after trying to hit on her.

As it turned out, he was friends with Aelin’s old roommates' boyfriends.  She should have known he was the worst considering he and Lorcan Salvaterre got on.  

The bar scene ended with a fight, more beer spillage (on purpose), and a promise of vengeance.

Unfortunately for Aelin, her prospective lease fell through and she would have been homeless if not for the extra room in Rowan’s apartment.  And then covid struck and Aelin was trapped.

Hence, her beached whale position (and sounds) from the couch.  Life was one cosmic joke after another.

“You don’t always have to make your presence known, y’know,” Rowan commented as he pretended, he hadn’t almost had multi-grain Wheaties shooting out of his nose.

“Of course I do,” Aelin argued, “how else can I annoy you before quiet hours begin?”

His green eyes flashed and he rose from his seat at the table, already dressed in a button up and slacks.  For Zoom meetings.  Like a lunatic.  If he’d been wearing a tie she would have teased him for it.  Of all things the man should still be in shorts and a t-shirt.  At least the button up stretched in interesting ways over Rowan’s broad shoulders.  He might have been the bane of her existence but he was nice to look at.

“Don’t you have a job?” he asked, putting his dishes in the sink. “Ah, I forgot, you don’t.”

“Freelance writing is a job,” Aelin said.  She sat up straighter so she could better glare at him. “It’s not my fault things have slowed down.”

Indeed, Aelin’s literature degree had taken a hit given the state of the world right now.  She’d hoped she would have a job at a major publishing company or magazine or something.  Instead, she’d been rejected from job after job and was trying to write freelance articles to keep up on rent.  It…wasn’t going well.  Which had led her to content creating for Instagram.  She read books and talked about them and it kept her somewhat sane.  Until Rowan mocked her for it.

“Rent’s due on the fifth!” he called as he disappeared down the hall to his room to shut in for his work day to begin.

Aelin had no idea what he did, only that it involved not having a sense of humor.  Something with marketing?  But his degree was in history if Elide was right…

She shrugged and took a long sip of her coffee.  She had less than twenty minutes before quiet hours started at eight-forty and ended at five thirty when the work day ended and she had every intention of making as much noise as possible.

…

Rowan knew he was an ass.  He’d always been known as the asshole throughout high school, college, the steps in-between.  Even his friends often thought he was worse than Lorcan.  Lorcan of all people.

Granted, ever since Elide came into the picture, Lorcan had mellowed out and even smiled once a week.

Rowan found scowling to be more beneficial.  Especially when it came to getting Sam Cortland to shut up in the daily staff meetings they had over Zoom.

His degree was in art history and appraising--a limited degree where all he’d wanted to do was work in a museum organizing exhibits.  Not writing legal documents for rich men to take art from their rightful owners.

The irony was not lost on him that perhaps he shouldn’t give Aelin such a hard time about her job and the fact she wasn’t using her degree very much.  

The only problem was he’d dug himself into a hole and now he had no idea how to get out.

Aelin, for all eccentricities, was smart and did work hard.  She was doing everything possible to stay afloat--sarcasm included.

Their first meeting at the bar had only gone so miserable because Rowan didn’t know when to shut up and apparently had a unique skill of insulting beautiful women.  What a time to learn that.

English?  Isn’t that the easiest thing to study?

She should have slapped him and not just dumped beer in his lap.

Rowan leaned back in his seat as the project manager started talking over the new contract that would be drawn up between a client and their acquisitions.  It continued on for too long and Rowan just wanted to get back to his own assignments.  By the time late afternoon rolled around, he was ready to log off and be done for the day.

He’d always considered himself to be a homebody, but this was getting ridiculous.  He wanted to be out doing things.  But the trails were closed, his friends were spread out over the country, and there was the risk of a disastrous illness running amuck.

So he was trapped in an apartment with Aelin Galathynius.  The place had always felt enormous until she’d moved in.  But she had a way of filling every space she occupied.  Other than the various bathroom accouterments she had there were the dozens of fleece blankets, the books, the personality.  Even he had to admit she was different from anyone he’d met before.

Unfortunately, she was very good at holding grudges.

He’d tried apologizing for getting off on the wrong foot when she first moved in, but her mind was already made up.  Then came the way she was loud, talkative, rambunctious.  Quarantine was not meant for her.  After one day he’d realized that she needed space and freedom and the ability to do whatever she wanted.  The jury was still out on how he felt about that.

He was finally able to mute his other coworkers when a loud crash echoed from the kitchen.  Rowan rolled his eyes.  It was two, so of course Aelin was getting snacky.  He’d clocked her eating habits and quickly learned she needed to eat at least eight times a day to be in a good mood.  Seven of those times had to involve chocolate.

She had been doing better at keeping quiet while he was in his zoom meetings so Rowan tried to control his ire.  Really, she hadn’t been a bad roommate.  She’d tried to keep the peace between them and even offered to include him on DoorDash orders.  All of her orders were from the local dessert shop and Rowan didn’t eat much sugar so that didn’t help matters.   

Another crash from the kitchen followed by the patter of feet to the linen closet.

“Damndamndamndamn,” Aelin chanted as she went.

Rowan froze.  She’d broken his sink again, hadn’t she?  He glanced at his computer but no one was paying attention, all engaged in their own work.  Besides, he could step away from a minute if he needed to.

Standing, Rowan slipped into the hall and down to the kitchen.  He braced himself for anything and everything.  Knowing Aelin there could be a dead body.

What he was completely unprepared for was the settling plume of flour and mess of various baking items scattered around the kitchen.

“What the hell are you doing?” he blurted before he could stop himself.

Aelin turned from the counter, her blonde hair spilling out of a messy bun.  Her t-shirt and shorts (that showed off her lean legs) were covered in a mix of flour and butter, her face smudged too.  He knew he should stop staring.  Really, he’d seen her first thing in the morning looking like the walking dead and in the middle of the night crying to Taylor Swift.  And now, covered in flour, eyes wide with panic.  He would admit it only to himself and deny it if anyone asked him--but she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

“It’s cookie Friday,” Aelin said, she had a towel in one hand, spatula in the other.  A bottle of vanilla was tipped over as she was trying to mop up the mess. “Sorry.”

“You hate cooking, or baking, or anything involving an oven,” Rowan reminded her.

“Which is why I’m only going to eat the dough raw,” Aelin said, voice growing quieter with each word.  Her blue eyes were comically wide as she gestured around the kitchen. “Then the thing exploded and the other thing tipped over and it turned into a mess and I was trying to be quiet because you are a grumpy buzzard, even on Fridays, and I know you’re at work but I really needed cookies.”

Aelin continued to look at him with her large eyes as she offered a sympathetic shrug of her shoulders.  

"Sorry?"

Rowan didn't know if he should laugh or be irritated or something else.  But all he really could do was stare at her.  It was such an Aelin thing for her to do that really, he couldn't be mad.

"You know raw cookie dough is bad for you right?" He asked.

"No, it literally feeds the soul," she set.

With a wet thwack, she dropped the towel in the sink and righted the vanilla bottle.  Most of it had spilled out leaving a sickly-sweet scent cloying in the air. "And I don't care what scientists or other miserable things you read say."

Rowan rolled his eyes. He should have known better than to try and reason with her. "Alright fine.  Eat your salmonella."

"I will, thank you," she said.  A patch of flour still clung to her cheek giving her bravado a little less umph than he was sure she wanted. "And I'll clean up, no need to worry your poor old heart about that."

"I'm not old," he said.  Thirty was a perfectly reasonable age.

"Yeah, yeah."  She patted herself down, sending little plumes of flour all over the place.  She tried righting her hair, but it seemed to be of no use—most of the tendrils had broken free and she was stuck with a curling mass in the nape of her neck. "Go back to work, I'm sure nothing will get done without you."

And Rowan in a bought of what had to be pure reckless abandonment shook his head. "Nah.  I'm not that important."

Aelin raised a brow. "Really? Even with your real degree and real work you put into college."

Well.  He deserved that. 

"Yeah?"

Aelin eyed him skeptically before tossing another clean towel at him. "You get the floor I'll get the cabinets."

And then because the apartment had somehow shrunk in the last three months—they were continually in each other’s way.  Rowan brushing her leg, Aelin grabbing his shoulder when she nearly fell over while reaching for the top cabinets, both going for the sink at the same time.  It was chaos.  And because Rowan didn't know how to sort out his own feelings, he found his skin heating at each touch, his heart race at each glance.  And he knew, he knew he was a fool.  But if the past three months had taught him anything—it was that he could be very wrong about a great deal of things.

When the kitchen was somewhat restored to order.  Aelin sighed. "I guess that'll have to do.  I'll dig out the real cleaning products in a minute, I have to meet with one of my editors.  Hopefully one of my articles was accepted this time."

She said the last part flippantly, but Rowan could sense the tension rolling off of her.  She wanted that job to go through, needed it.  

"I'm sure it will," he said.

Aelin rolled her eyes. "You don't have to offer a pity compliment buzzard; I know it's not your style."

“It’s not--” Rowan cursed and looked away, running a hand through his hair anxiously. “We both know what I said back then wasn’t true.  I know it must have taken work and dedication to get your degree.”

“Thanks.  It did.” She was unapologetic with her bold words, just as he would expect her to be. “I won’t keep you.  I promise I’ll have the rest of this cleaned up before bed.”

“It’s fine,” Rowan said. 

Aelin grabbed the dirty towels to take to the small laundry alcove but Rowan stopped her.

“You’ve got flour,” he tried to explain that there was still a steak of flour on her cheek, but he was already reaching out, brushing it away with a quick swipe of his thumb.

Aelin froze, watching him as if she didn’t recognize him.  Not that he could blame her, he was actually being nice.  Her lips parted as if to say something, but Rowan’s phone gave a loud ping from where he’d left it in his room.  He’d hooked his notifications onto a larger speaker setting so he wouldn’t miss anything during the day if he got up to leave his desk.

“Work calls, right?”  Aelin joked with a small, half smile.  And then she was gone down the hall.

Rowan cursed again, running a hand over his face. 

“Get it together, Whitethorn,” he muttered, before he too returned to his room.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

tags are a joke rn. please consider reblogging?

love yall

#rowaelin #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #aelin x rowan #rowaelin month #rowaelinmonth #modern au #tog #throne of glass #fluff and fun

[punkassbookjockey26]

Show and Tell

Yo yo yo, waddup. It's been a while since I posted anything, and not gonna lie, I'm not even sure if this is any good. But here it is.

Thank you to @shyvioletcat for providing the inspo for this story. Although, I did take a few liberties lol.

Rating: PG? PG-13? Who knows?

-------------------------------------------------

“Alright, everyone – let’s get our listening ears on and catch a bubble in your mouth!”

Rowan Whitethorn always felt a bit silly pulling on his ears and puffing out his cheeks, but whatever got his rambunctious group of Kindergarteners to quiet down was worth it. When pursuing a degree in education, he didn’t think he wanted to be in a classroom full of five and six-year-olds, but he had such a fantastic experience while student teaching that it seemed like a waste to be anywhere else.

“Now remember, we’re doing show-and-tell today. What do we do when our friends are up here talking?”

“Listen!” A chorus of children practically yelled it at him, and he smiled widely.

“That’s right. We listen, and we pay attention to what they’re saying. Now, is there anyone that wants to go first?”

Several children shot their hands straight up in the air, but one, in particular, was practically bouncing in her seat, almost too excited about getting selected. Everly Galathynius was a very precocious child. She had an overabundance of energy and effusiveness for a five-year-old that surprised even him. He had learned early on that when she felt emotions, she felt them strongly. Happy, sad, angry, upset – it didn’t matter. It was always a production.

It wasn’t that she was a bad kid. She loved school and being around her classmates. She caught onto concepts quickly and had a bright openness that made everyone want to be her friend. She was also fiercely competitive and wanted to be first in everything, whether answering questions or being a line leader. Needless to say that Rowan was not surprised to see her tiny hand shoot up in the air.

If there was anything that Everly struggled with, it was waiting her turn. Patience was not a strong trait that she possessed, and Rowan was adamant that she learn at least some measure of it before she left his classroom. So he purposefully selected another one of her classmates to come up first and almost laughed at the enormous pout that spread across her face.

His amusement only grew when he continued to ignore her pouting and called other members of her class up to share. Everly was practically vibrating in her chair when Rowan finally decided it was her turn. He barely finished calling out her name before she sprinted to the front of the classroom with her backpack, her two blonde pigtails flying behind her.

Rowan sighed. “Everly, you know we’re not supposed to run in school.”

Her excitement didn’t even dim for a second. “I know, but I want to share!”

He supposed it was his fault for keying her up with his impromptu “lesson,” but this child was going to be the death of him. “Alright then. Go ahead.”

Everly took a deep breath and pulled out what she had brought from her backpack. “Today, I brought my mama’s favorite toy!”

Rowan quirked a skeptical eyebrow toward the young child in front of him. “Your mother has a favorite toy?”

“Yes! I found it a while ago, and she told me. She keeps it in her room and won’t let me play with it, even though I ask really nice. But today, I found it in the bathroom!”

Everly dug through her bag as Rowan had a brief moment of clarity. But before he could reach the front and stop, she displayed the item she had brought high above her head like a trophy.

It was a vibrator.

A hot pink, glittery vibrator.

And Rowan was now in hell.

“Okay, that’s enough now, Everly!” Rowan exclaimed hastily. “Thank you for sharing! Let’s go ahead and put that away now!”

Everly took a step back and pouted. “But you let Declan share! I wanna share!”

Rowan stepped in front of her, blocking the view of the class. “You did share, Everly. And now it’s time for you to put it away.”

“No! I waited forever, and now I want to share! Please let me share!” She was near tears, and Rowan knew he had about two seconds to solve this before he had a full-on meltdown on his hands. He was quite unsure how to handle the situation, though. It wasn’t like they taught him this in undergrad. But he needed to remove the... object from his classroom, stat.

He hesitated, and Everly took full advantage immediately, darting to the opposite side of the classroom, still holding the vibrator above her head. “I didn’t even get to show the best part!”

Oh, dear god.

A loud buzzing noise filled the classroom, and his students were suddenly very interested in what Everly had in her hands. His students crowded around her, excited to see her new “toy.” Rowan forced himself through the throng to reach the perpetrator of the insanity, deftly plucking the offending object from her hands.

There was a moment of stunned silence before all hell broke loose in his classroom.

------

Rowan pinched the bridge of his nose, running through what he would say to a Ms. Aelin Galathynius about why he needed to speak with her urgently regarding her daughter. He hadn’t met her yet if he remembered correctly. Everly and her mother were noticeably absent at the parent night a few weeks back, and she hadn’t responded to any of the previous requests he sent out to meet. It was exceptionally bad luck that their first meeting would be him discussing how her daughter managed to get ahold of a vibrator and bring it to school.

Everly sat dutifully in the corner, her eyes cast down on the floor and her blonde pigtails hanging limply off her head. Realistically, he knew he shouldn’t punish Everly. She was five and couldn’t possibly know her item was inappropriate or how it was used. But that didn’t negate that Rowan now had to talk to a woman he had never met about her masturbatory aids.

They sat in uncomfortable silence until Rowan heard the sharp unmistakable clacking of heels hitting the tile floors outside his classroom. The door pushed open, and while he hadn’t known what to expect, he hadn’t expected an impossibly gorgeous golden-haired woman dressed in an impeccable business suit glaring at him with anger scorching hot.

“Is there a reason you’re holding my daughter hostage, Mr. Whitethorn?”

Her hands were placed on her hips, her full lips downturned in a deep frown, and Rowan couldn’t help but be stunned by the fiery woman standing before him. He almost forgot why he needed to speak with her, but he quickly regained composure when it became apparent that she was surveying him like a lioness ready to pounce.

Rowan cleared his throat and came to greet her. “Ms. Galathynius, thank you for coming today. I need just a moment of your time to speak about what happened with Everly in class today.”

“Is she in trouble?” The blonde quirked her eyebrow at him.

“Well…no, not exactly.” Rowan flushed, rubbing his hand behind his neck.

“Was she hurt? Did you allow someone to bully her?”

Anger flared inside him. “Excuse me, Ms. Galathynius, but seeing as you have never met with me or really know anything about what happens in this classroom, I resent the accusation that you think I would ever allow any child to be bullied.”

She rolled her eyes, dismissing his anger. “Okay, well, if she’s not in trouble, hurt, or being bullied, why are you wasting my time?”

Rowan felt the indignation surge at the audacity of this woman. “ I didn’t realize that your daughter’s well-being was a waste of your time. Perhaps I should have called her father instead to help with this matter.”

Rowan visibly saw her shoulders tense. “He wouldn’t have cared, just like he didn’t care when he chose to walk out of her life four years ago to make a brand new family with his brand new wife.”

Her venomous admission momentarily stunned Rowan as she stared him down, and he felt some of the anger filter out of him. Regardless of the situation, he needed to understand why he had asked her to meet. “Ms. Galathynius, I apologize for that comment. It was uncalled for –

“You’re damn right it was.”

“- However, I do need to discuss with you the nature of Everly’s show-and-tell contribution today.”

She sighed deeply, and Rowan watched all the anger drain from her lithe body. “Alright, then. What happened during show-and-tell today?”

Rowan paused a moment before walking back to his desk. He pulled open the top drawer and gestured to the offending object, now stashed in a Ziploc bag and lying on a stack of papers.

He watched as Ms. Galathynius lifted an eyebrow in suspicion before rounding his desk to peer at what he was trying to show her. Her color completely drained as she took in the pink, glittery vibrator nestled inside the drawer. She looked back up at him with shocked eyes, a heavy silence hanging in the air.

Rowan wondered how long it would take for someone to break the silence. He had been mortified knowing that he would need to have this conversation. And although it hadn’t started out quite the way he had planned, he wanted to spare Everly’s mother the indignity of shoving her personal private life back in her face.

Ms. Galathynius stepped back, and Rowan noted the bright red heat of embarrassment creeping up her neck. She turned towards her daughter, clearing her throat. “Everly Grace, can you come here for a moment, please?”

Rowan watched as Everly gingerly slid out of her chair and shuffled towards her mother. She looked up with wide eyes lined with tears, and it broke Rowan’s heart. She hadn’t been in trouble with him, not really, but he couldn’t explain why he had to take her ‘toy’ away and why she couldn’t keep showing it to the class. The tantrum that ensued had been nothing short of legendary.

Her mother cleared her throat. “Everly, love, can you tell mama why you took her…um… special toy to school today?”

Everly perked up a bit, smiling at her mother. “I heard you talking about how much you like it with Auntie Lys the other day!”

The red on her face deepened, and Rowan stifled a laugh. Everly’s mother continued. “And you know you’re not supposed to go into mama’s room without permission, right?”

The brightness on her daughter’s face dimmed. “I know, mama, but I really, really wanted to share it because you said you like it so much! I like sharing my toys, too!”

Rowan couldn’t help it. A snort escaped him at the exchange, and Everly’s mother glared in his direction. Despite the hell this child had put him through today, her absolute innocence in the situation was damn near comical. And if he weren’t so embarrassed about the position he and her mother were now in, he likely would have laughed when it happened.

It sure explained a few things, though.

Her mother sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers. “Sweetie, can you please wait right outside the door? I need to speak with your teacher alone. Just wait right there, and I’ll be out in a minute.”

The second the door shut behind Everly, Ms. Galathynius snatched her vibrator from the drawer and stuffed it deep in her purse. She turned to look at him, her hands back on her hips but with a noticeable flush still lingering on her skin.

“So, I suppose this is the part where I apologize for being a pill, but seeing as my child has embarrassed me enough today, I’m not going to.”

There was a beat of silence before both of them burst into laughter.

“Oh my god, I had no idea what to do with your child today, Ms. Galathynius. She ran around the room, waving it above her head like a flag. She even managed to turn it on, and that was a whole thing by itself.”

Everly’s mother wiped tears away from her eyes as her laughter died down. “Please, call me Aelin. And I swear, I had no idea she snuck into my room this morning. She told me that she was bringing her doll today. Serves me right for trusting my child.”

“Oh, so you know how your child behaves sometimes?” Rowan smirked down at her, and she rolled her eyes, albeit playfully this time.

“Would you believe me if I told you she got it from her father?”

Rowan pretended to think about it for a moment. “After meeting you today? Absolutely not.”

He smiled widely at her, and she returned it with a grin, momentarily stunning him for the second time that day. It transformed her whole demeanor. Gone was the stubborn mother who accused him of allowing her child to be bullied. Instead, Rowan had a beautiful woman standing before him, with hair spun like silk and bright turquoise eyes ringed in gold.

Clearing his throat, he stepped back away from Aelin just to get some distance. “Just one question, though.”

Aelin cocked her head to the side. “What’s that?”

“Grace? Really?”

Aelin's answering laugh drew him right back in. "I was hoping she would take after her name, but here we are."

She smiled at him again, and walked out the door to his classroom. Rowan felt himself warm with that smile, and watched as the door slid shut, wondering if he would ever have a chance to see her again.

----------

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#rowaelin #rowaelin month #rowaelin court #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #aelin and rowan #aelin x rowan #modern au #songfic #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #tog #fanfic #fanfiction #pabj26writing

[theladyofdeath]

Rowaelin phone sex?

NSFW, 18+. Enjoy. :)

"What are you wearing?"

Aelin laughed, loud and obnoxious, unable to help herself. It was so cliche, such a genuine man question. They hadn't seen each other in three weeks now, due to Rowan being away at university and Aelin back in Orynth for her internship. After three weeks of simple phone and FaceTime calls, they needed something to get them through the separation.

Rowan's idea of that apparently began with, What are you wearing?

"Don't laugh," he said, although she could sense his humor. She already knew what he was wearing, having just gotten home from the gym and showered. His chest was bare, the sweatpants that sported his school’s logo riding low on his hips. His hair was damp and a complete, adorable mess.

Rowan had never been good at these types of things. Sex? Sure, the man was a god in bed, and everywhere else they had found themselves entangled throughout the years. But words? No. He spoke much better with his hands, with his body.

Which was one of the reasons why this long distance shit was stressing him out. Aelin knew it, too, which was why she leaned back, positioning her phone on the top of her laptop as she sat back on her bed so that he could get the full view.

He blinked. “I’ve been looking for that shirt.”

Aelin looked down at the old T-shirt from Rowan’s high school lacrosse days that read, Doranelle Hawks on the front and Whitethorn #11 on the back.

“Maybe you should be keeping better track of your stuff,” Aelin said, simply, with absolutely no shame.

Rowan laughed quietly. “Yeah, well, good thing I don’t because it looks a lot better on you than it does on me.”

Aelin didn’t even think the shirt fit him anymore. He had always been tall, but he’d packed on a lot more muscle in the five years since graduating high school.

“Especially when nothing is on beneath it?” Aelin asked, brow raised.

Rowan leaned forward, green eyes narrowed. “I won’t believe it until proven.”

Aelin wanted so desperately to roll her eyes, but his tone made his words far sexier. She had just drawn up her leg when a loud knock came to Rowan’s bedroom door.

He groaned. “Go away!”

Aelin could hear Lorcan’s muffled voice through the phone. She couldn’t help but laugh at Rowan’s grumpy expression. They’d known Rowan’s roommate since they were kids and he always did have the worst timing.

“Okay, great,” Rowan went on. Then there was a pause. Then, “Fuck off.”

He shook his head as Lorcan’s laughter faded away.

“Do I want to know what that charming exchange was about?” Aelin crooned, loving how the second Rowan looked back at his phone, his eyes darted to that bare leg of hers.

“He wants me to go to the bar. I told him I was busy.” He sighed. “He said to make the drive to bed you properly instead of flashing my dick on FaceTime…except he was far more vulgar about it.”

Lorcan was always vulgar about everything. But, then again, so was Aelin, so who was she to judge? “Sounds right, coming from a man whose girlfriend is five minutes away instead of five hours.”

It was meant to be a joke but as the words came out of her mouth, she was frowning.

Rowan’s voice softened. “A few more months and I’ll have my degree,” he promised. “Then I’m coming home to you.”

To you.

The words had heat flooding her body. When he was done with school, he would be moving into her apartment and they would finally be starting their life together. She would go to sleep and wake up beside him every day. It was a dream she’d had for years and it would soon be a reality.

“I can’t wait,” she breathed, and Rowan plopped back against his pillows as he said, “Neither can I.”

Aelin shifted on her bed, the thin fabric of Rowan’s old shirt nearly growing unbearable. She wished he was here, wished his hands were on her, wished he was about to be buried deep inside of her, but he couldn’t be. He could give her something, though. They could give each other what they could. “Until then…”

“Until then?” He asked, voice dropping low as he made himself comfortable.

“Talk dirty to me,” she begged.

Rowan huffed a laugh, but his voice stayed low, kept that tone that made her toes curl when he said, “Last time I talked dirty, you wouldn’t stop laughing.”

“I wasn’t laughing,” she protested.

Yes, she was.

Rowan slowly shook his head, his silver hair stark against his black pillowcase.

“Full of lies,” he muttered. “So naughty.”

“You like that about me,” Aelin said, pushing herself up on her knees, fiddling with the hem of his shirt that brushed her thighs. “My naughtiness.”

“Gods, help me, I do,” he agreed, voice going quiet as he waited in anticipation. “When are you gonna prove what’s under that shirt of yours?”

“Oh, so now it’s my shirt?” Aelin asked, loving to press his buttons. “Last time I checked, you’ve been looking for it.”

She inched it up just a little bit and Rowan’s eyes narrowed. “You’re cruel.”

Aelin grinned. “Don’t you like that about me, too?”

“I like it better when you’re nice,” he said, a small grin twisting his lips. “Obedient.”

“Obedient?” Aelin repeated, the hem raising just one more inch up her thighs. “And who is it I should be obeying?”

“Me,” he said, and she could tell by the way he shifted his weight that his sweats were tugged down and his cock was out.

Aelin thought about his cock, thought about the way it felt, it tasted in her mouth, the way it felt when he filled her. Gods, she missed it. Missed him.

“In this relationship, I’m pretty sure you’re the obedient one,” Aelin said, her heart beating a little faster as she noted his shoulder flexing, his arm moving. “Pretty sure you’re my bitch, Whitethorn.”

He laughed, quietly, resting his phone on his abdomen. She had the perfect few of his inked chest, his strong jawline. His gaze remained on her. “True, but there’s no need for you to tell me what to do. I know exactly how you like it.”

"Is that so?" Aelin asked, slipping the hem of his shirt above her waist.

Rowan tracked it as he nodded.

"And how do I like it?" she asked, raising it up her abdomen, stopping just beneath her breasts.

Rowan's eyes lit up. "Rough," he answered, simply, and he certainly was not wrong. "You like it when I bite and nip, and bury myself so deep inside of you that there's nothing left of me to give."

A thrumming formed between Aelin's thighs. She longed to touch herself but she wouldn't, not yet.

Instead, she pulled that t-shirt over her head and tossed it aside. She raised her chin before lifting herself up on her knees so that every bare inch of her could be seen. On the other end of the phone, Rowan went quiet. His lips parted and his eyes shone, as if it was the very first time he'd ever seen her, which it surely was not.

She gave him his time, let him explore with his eyes as he muted every longing want and need to do exactly what Lorcan had demanded - to drive five hours and bed her properly.

Then she slid her hands up her sides and palmed her breast as her other hand found that throbbing spot between her thighs. She circled that sensitive nub with her forefinger, a long, soft breath letting itself loose as she did so. Gods, how she wished it was his hands instead of hers.

She told him as much. "I can't wait until you're here," she said. "Until I can feel your hands on me."

"Me either," he said, the first thing he had said in a few minutes. His voice was rough, and the sound sent chills down her spine. "I can't wait to feel you. Every inch of you. With my hands, my mouth."

Aelin moaned quietly as she slipped a finger inside of her, then another. "Let me see you," she pleaded. "I need to see you."

Rowan repositioned his phone so that Aelin could see it all. He fisted his cock, and it was rock hard. Aelin felt powerful, then, knowing that she could make him just as hard five hours away as she could in person.

She wanted him more than she had ever wanted him, wanted anyone, in her life. The thought would have brought her to her knees if she wasn't already there. It made her fingers pump faster, made the hand palming her breast get a little more creative. She took her peaked nipple between her fingers and rolled it, thinking about how it felt to have Rowan's lips sucking it between his teeth.

"Ro," she breathed, the images of him doing the most erotic acts to her flooding her mind.

He cursed and she watched as he pumped himself faster.

He was beautiful and it was strange because Aelin had never thought that men were beautiful before she had been with Rowan. He was perfect, though, and Aelin grew hungrier at the sight of him, as his chest heaved. She wished it was her hand, her mouth, around his cock.

Soon, it would be.

She could feel that sensation building up in her core, that excitement that set her entire body aflame. Judging from the soft groans, from the string of filth coming out of Rowan's mouth, she knew that he felt the same rush of emotion.

"Fuck," Aelin breathed, her voice an octave higher as she used her hands in tandem, the fingers on one plunging deep inside of her, the other circling her clit. Rowan growled, and the sound alone had her practically screaming his name.

She watched as his movements grew spasmodic, watched as his chest heaved, that lovely string of curses from his mouth reviving her very soul. Soon, he came, and Aelin watched as his seed trailed down his hand and out of sight. She was just behind him, the sight of him cumming erotic enough to make her fade into nothingness. By the time her hands stopped moving, her sheets were soaked and she couldn't catch her breath.

Aelin took her phone from her laptop as she fell back against her bed, eyes closing. For a moment, neither of them said a word but Aelin suddenly felt lighter. She rolled onto her side before looking back at the phone.

Rowan was watching her with a small smile on his mouth, his eyes soft.

After all she had just shown him, this is what made her cheeks redden. "What?"

"The post-sex haze," he said, quietly, that smile remaining. "You're so beautiful."

A feeling of emotion so strong settled in Aelin's core and she had to blink back tears. This man...he was the love of her life. Soon, they would finally be reunited, finally have the time together that they deserve. The life together that they deserve. "I miss you."

"I miss you," he said, and she had no doubt that he meant it. "So much."

They fell quiet, watching each other through the lenses of their phones. There was nothing more to say that hadn't already been said. Instead, Aelin snuggled deep under her blankets and started to drift off when Rowan started speaking again.

She fell asleep, blissfully, listening to Rowan talk about their future together. Two months and he would be there, living life by her side and leaving this long-distance relationship far in the past.

#rowaelin #oneshot #drabble #fanfic #fanfiction #tog #throne of glass #sjm #drafts #prompts #rowan #whitethorn #aelin #aelin ashryver whitethorn galathynius #rowan x aelin #aelin x rowan #modern au #tara answers prompts

[mariaofdoranelle]

Wedding Break

Masterlist

I really hope you’re in a modern royalty/runaway bride mood today

Warnings: only language I think

Word count: 2,1k

~~~~~~~~~~

“Which Whitethorn do you think is the hottest?” Aelin said a millisecond before shoving her phone on Aedion’s sight.

Her cousin playfully slapped her hand away. “Shouldn’t you be preparing for your speech?”

“It’s either this or hearing about carbon monoxide one more time for you.”

As beautiful as Queen Maeve’s castle was with its tiny streams and walls of pale stone, Aelin just wanted to fast-forward to when she actually got to do her first official task, or at least forget about it until it was time. For someone who have begged for a more active role in the government for years, she was feeling too much like a deer in the headlights.

Muttering something unintelligible to himself, Aedion zoomed in the picture with everyone from the House of Whitethorn and quickly assessed it.

“Tattooed Whitethorn.”

Aelin looked at the picture and bit her lip. “Agreed. I think his name is Ronan or something.”

“They could’ve picked this one for you to marry.”

Frowning, she asked, “What do you mean?” Aelin knew she’d have to marry someone eventually, but she didn’t even like to think about the nightmare it would be. Being crown princess, every formal step of her love life needed to be approved by her dad and the Royal Council, and she had enough battles of her own with them for now.

Aedion cackled, not sensing her distress or maybe because of it. “Didn’t you open Twitter today? The tabloids are saying you’re engaged with Prince Endymion.”

Gaping at her cousin, she was somewhere between laughing and frowning at this new piece of information. “Isn’t he gay? I know we both dated Dorian.”

“I’m pretty sure he is, too.” A beat. “God, I wonder how they came up with this one.”

They kept scrolling on their respective couches, sometimes chatting about things they saw online, but something about this rumor was bothering her. Aelin blocked her phone and rubbed the back of her neck, brows creased in thought. This wasn’t the first, neither would be the last false rumor about her love life. It was so common she didn’t mind anymore. What was irking Aelin was where their attention was. She was here to bring attention to carbon monoxide. Greenhouse effect. Global warming. Not to have her outfits and love life scrutinized by Doranelle’s tabloids.

Aelin cleared her throat, gathering Aedion’s attention.

“Don’t you think these rumors kinda undermine the real reason I’m here? It makes people forget the purpose of my trip and—“

“You know you’re only here because Rhoe’s boys’ club don’t give a fuck about the environment, right?”

Aelin flinched, hating how sometimes Aedion could see right through her. He straightened his posture and gave a long-suffering sigh.

“I’m sorry, Ace. It’s hard to get over this. You keep running around the castle, waiting for kernels like a damn pet—“

“I’m not a pet!” Aelin shouted, tired of having the same argument with Aedion for the millionth time.

He raised both hands in surrender and left, banging the ancient wooden door.

With a pounding heartbeat, Aelin got up and started pacing around the room. He would never get it. If she couldn’t get her voice heard in the council because of her position as crown princess, Aelin would work until she earned that spot. And it was already happening. Her dad put her in charge of Terrasen’s environmental policies as a 21st birthday gift, and there she was. Months later, only beginning to kick ass with her new task.

Aelin did a quick breathing exercise to calm herself down, too consumed by these thoughts, the gossip, her fight with Aedion and probably every single moment of the past months that led her to this. Aelin couldn’t post online without her PR’s approval, so she decided to ask Nox, the head of the team, to deny the rumors on social media. He saw her text almost immediately and left it on read, but Aelin’s shoulders still dropped in relief by the sight of it. He’d fix it soon.

~~

Doranelle’s weather was so hot Aelin took her first cold bath in months, and it was as refreshing as it could be. Honestly, she felt like a new woman, or at least in a new day. She had a tiny headache and her jaw felt sore, but it was fine. She was fine. If Aelin didn’t think about today’s previous events, she wouldn’t feel any kind of residual anger or bitterness. If she was still mad. Because she obviously wasn’t.

Choosing a pale blue dress for lunch, Aelin was finishing her makeup when her mom barged into the room.

“Why are you dressed up so early? Lunch is in more than an hour.”

Aelin sighed, feeling the weight of her shoulders quickly come back. “I needed the bath.”

Evalin smiled at her. “You look gorgeous, honey.”

Just like that, her mother’s words felt like sunshine making its way through dark clouds. Aelin beamed up at her mom, proud of herself because—

“But what happened to your hair? You can’t have lunch with the Whitethorns looking like this.”

Aelin’s cheeks burned, but she held her chin high to answer her mother. “I saw it on TikTok and decided to try. Everyone’s wearing it, it’s really no big deal.”

She gently caressed her daughter’s hair and held her chin for emphasis. “Not everyone is Terrasen’s heir, dear.” Evalin made a show of analyzing Aelin’s hairstyle before saying, “It looks interesting, just make sure the royal family doesn’t see you in it, okay?”

Nodding, she just let her mother talk her ears off until the endless reminders about that visit ended. When Evalin was about to leave, Aelin reminded of something.

“Mom?”

“Yes, dear?” Evalin asked from the threshold of Aelin’s assigned bedroom.

“Can you ask Nox to deny my engagement rumors? I asked him too long ago and maybe he forgot.” Both of them knew this was a nice way of putting that the PR team was busy, and Aelin’s requests weren’t a priority.

The sight of Evalin taking a deep breath and coming back in, closing the door, was enough to give Aelin heart palpitations. But nothing prepared her to what she’d hear next.

“Fireheart, I’m afraid your engagement rumors are true.”

Just like that, Aelin’s body, mind, her whole world came to a halt.

No, they weren’t. They couldn’t be. Aelin started feeling light-headed and leaned the palm against the wall. Her mom had promised that when the time came, they’d make the decision together. They’d let Aelin choose.

“You’re joking.”

“I know you’re upset now, but you know Terrasen’s going through a crisis, and Queen Maeve was kind enough to—“

“What about you letting me choose?” She shouted.

Evalin took a deep breath and plastered a forced smile on her face. “Like I was saying, we reached another countries too, to give you a choice, but Queen Maeve had a better offer, so—“

“So you sold me to the highest bidder! Is that it?”

Her mother’s silent confirmation made Aelin shut her eyes closed, a poor attempt to keep her tears at bay.

“When are we going back? I need to speak with dad,” Aelin said in a strained tone.

“We’re staying until the wedding, which will be in less than three months. He’ll come to the ceremony, though.” Evalin’s voice sounded more gentle now, but Aelin couldn’t see her expression because of the tears blurring her vision. She just heard her mother’s heeled footsteps and the sound of the door closing.

Aelin’s muscles went limp, so she collapsed on the floor, leaning against the wall, and didn’t bother doing any exercises to control her quick breathing.

It was hard to feel time moving when she was overwhelmed with so many questions running through her head. How could her family do this behind her back? Since when was this going on? Was her first assignment just a ruse to bring her to Doranelle?

With a caved-in chest, Aelin probably looked miserable crumbled on the floor like this. She felt too tired to do anything, but what got her up was the thought of what would her mother say if she saw Aelin’s tear-stained make up. Still, cleaning herself up sent a spark of something through her veins.

Maybe, if she talked to her father, they could figure out another way together. Aelin knew part of being queen was abdicating, but maybe they could meet halfway in this. Finishing her new makeup, Aelin held her chin high as she made her choice.

She was going back to Terrasen to talk with her father.

Leaving her bedroom, it was easy to get lost in this castle’s long halls. She had no idea how one place could be so open and look so much like a labyrinth at the same time. However, Aelin released a small breath in relief by the sight of what looked like a small gate.

The guard curtsied. “Your Highness. Good afternoon.”

And did nothing more.

After a few stretches of silence, she said, “Can you open this for me, please?”

His hand hovered over his earpiece as he asked, “Where to?”

“Out.” Aelin said through gritted teeth.

“I’m afraid you can’t leave this wing of the castle without an escort, ma’am.”

What the fuck? “Are you serious?”

Aelin didn’t bother hearing what he had to say, her ears were ringing as she stomped her way back to her bedroom. This had Evalin written all over it. So typical of her mother to treat Aelin like a ticking bomb whenever she got angry, like her own daughter was a situation that needed to be handled. She was so tired of this bullshit.

Aelin couldn’t cross a gate? Awesome. She’d make her own fucking gate to cross.

After getting back and slamming her bedroom’s door, Aelin quickly noted that her easiest way to the outside was a tree that was too short to jump from her balcony. She looked down, studying the sight. But if Aelin could get to the balcony underneath hers... She’d have perfect leverage to get to the tree.

Not thinking twice, Aelin ripped the mattress from her dull guest bedroom and wrapped it around her balcony’s ornate iron railing. Holding on the handrail for dear life, she crossed to the outer side of the barrier, and managed to find balance with half of her feet touching the rest of the balcony’s floor she had. She could feel the wind hitting her back and hear some hawks screeching far from her, but she couldn’t let fear paralyze her. Aelin took one last deep breath.

And then she jumped.

Aelin felt like her heart was free-falling, or maybe that was because she was free-falling herself. However, the gust of wind felt good for just one second, until her forehead hit the building, making her curse this city one more time. Why was this castle made of stone?

Noticing she was still depending on that short mattress to live, Aelin angled her body and swayed it enough to land inside the downstairs balcony.

Feeling every bone in her body ache from that crash, she only gave herself a few seconds to rest while analyzing that tree. She just needed to figure out the best angle to climb on that branch and—

“What the hell are you doing?”

A tall, green-eyed man was staring at her with furrowed eyebrows. He was dressed casually, with sweatpants and a black t-shirt that emphasized the ink that ran down his left arm. The same muscled, tattooed arm that gave her very improper thoughts earlier today. Somehow, the photos didn’t do Roman Whitethorn justice. Or something. God, why couldn’t she get his name right?

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” He insisted, and Aelin just realized she was staring blankly at him. Her scheming abilities let her come up with a plan in the seconds that took her to get up and straighten her posture.

She curtsied. “I’m so sorry for the disturbance, Your Highness. I’m working, and I need to retrieve something from this tree. Now if you’ll excuse me—“

“Wait. What’s your name?” As serious as he tried to school his expression, the prince’s eyes were twinkling with amusement, and Aelin wondered why.

“Celaena,” she let the lie slip through her lips not for the first time, but this situation specifically left her feeling her pulse go a mile a minute.

He hummed. “Whatever you say, Princess.”

A/N: I have some sequel ideas, let me know what you think!

Edit: Now I’m definitely continuing this and here’s a snippet of what’s to come

HERE’S PART 2 and I’ll make a masterlist soon I promise

TAG LIST

@autumnbabylon

@courtofjurdan

@elentiyawhitethorn

@leiawritesstories

@rowanaelinn

@thegreyj

#rowaelin #throne of glass fanfiction #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #aelin x rowan #throne of glass au #modern royalty au #runaway bride

[highqueenofelfhame]

Can we get a part 2 of Coach??

ask and ye shall receive! it's not as good as part one, but like, i highly doubt i'll ever top that drabble tbh. i hope you enjoy!

It was a cool afternoon, fluffy white clouds backlit by a baby blue sky. Mid-September was one of Rowan’s favorite times of the year in Terrasen. Despite mild summers, nowhere near reaching the heat of Doranelle, some days were miserable to be outside. It was a problem considering how all of their kids were involved in various sports, and Arden got a little dramatic about his baseball games when the temperature reached the nineties. 

Today it was Evie’s turn to have the full support of her family. The tails of her french braids swished behind her as she ran down the field, a determined look on her face as she focused on the soccer ball with a predator’s precision. Pride swelled in Rowan’s chest, admiring the seven year old for having such determination with everything she did.

“Let’s go, Evie!” he shouted, causing a jolt on his chest. Rowan looked down at the six month old strapped to his front. As he adjusted the small hat on the top of Declan’s head, he couldn’t resist dropping several kisses to his chubby cheeks. Several coos and tiny giggles erupted from him. This time, Rowan’s heart swelled with pure love. 

“Hey, Coach!” someone shouted from the stands. Rowan braced his hands on his hips and turned his upper body toward the bleachers. His eyes immediately locked on his wife, golden hair falling over her shoulders in long curls. She was leaning forward with her hands on her knees and a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Looking good!”

Rowan snorted, cheeks heating slightly as he shook his head and turned his attention back to the game. This wasn’t unusual for Aelin. Every time she heard one of the other moms talking about Rowan, she joined in the fun. Her present outburst was likely for that very reason. 

Evalin was running down the field, the time clock ticking closer and closer to the end of the game. But she was no match for time, pushing herself as hard as she could while she kicked and chased the ball toward the goal. 

“Yes, baby! You got this!” he heard Aelin shout from the stands. Rowan shouted his own encouragements, a hand on Declan’s stomach for extra support while he jogged down the sidelines and closer to where Evalin made her final kick, sending the ball straight to the corner of the goal.

The crowd cheered and all of Evalin’s teammates bolted toward her on the field as the final buzzer sounded. The gaggle of girls jumped in circles, hugging his daughter and patting her on the back with congratulatory excitement. 

A hard smack on his ass had Rowan jolting in surprise, reaching behind him to grab his wife’s hand while she laughed brightly. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers, then reached around her to ruffle the silver hair of his second born. Arden grinned up at him, his smile gapped from the teeth he’d lost over the summer. 

“You look so good in these pants,” she whispered, patting her hand on his rear.

“You’re a menace.”

“It isn’t just me. People talk about your ass all the time. One of the dads got me started. I told him that he should see you with your shirt off.” Rowan couldn’t help but laugh as she let out a slow whistle, mirth still twinkling in her bright blue eyes.

“A menace,” he repeated, just as their daughter ran straight into her mother’s arms.

“You were amazing, my love.” Aelin dropped a kiss to the top of her head as Rowan lifted his hand for a high five. Evie jumped, smacking her hand against his enthusiastically. Her cheeks were flushed a bright pink and she was still a little out of breath, but pure joy and pride radiated from her very being. Declan’s arms and legs were going wild, reaching out in every direction while he babbled what Rowan liked to think was his way of letting his big sister know he was proud, too.

“Can I get snacks now? I’m starving,” Evie proclaimed, her hand going to her forehead as though she were feeling faint with hunger. She definitely got that from her mother. 

“Go for it.” With a wink, Aelin gestured toward the ice cooler her teammates were beginning to swarm around. Evalin skipped away with Arden hopping close behind her, reaching to try and tug on her braids. 

Aelin leaned into Rowan’s side, her head resting on his shoulder while she took Declan’s hat off and ran her fingers through his silky golden hair. She looked so wholly content and happy that Rowan ducked his head down to give her a sweet kiss on her lips. 

“I love you.”

“Yeah?” Her head tilted back and she wrapped her arm around his waist. Rowan grunted a confirmation, nodding his head before kissing her again. “I love you, too, Coach. And your ass, and your hands, and your mouth, and that thing you do with your–”

“There are little ears,” he teased, his hands resting on the sides of the infant’s head to block out the noise.

“I just can’t resist you in a polo and khakis.” His wife shrugged, dropping a kiss to his shoulder just as their other two monkeys rejoined them with juice boxes and popcorn in hand. Aelin sighed that her antics had to come to an end, swapping her dirty words for a smile as she slipped her hand into his. “Let’s go home.”

#writing #my writing #rowaelin #drabbles #fanfiction #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fic #rowan whitethorn #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin galathynius #tog #throne of glass #tog fic #tog fanfic #tog fanfiction #modern au #tog gen 2 #rowaelin babies #baby fic #fluff #pure fluff #nothing but fluff

[fangirlprincess-writes]

Friends Don't Look At Friends That Way - Chapter 3: Age 15 and 3/4

cw: none

word count: 2.597

read on AO3 || masterlist

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chapter summary: the one where they play spin the bottle

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"The red or the green one?" Aelin asks, holding up two dresses. She is standing in front of the closet in her room, while Rowan is lounging on the bed behind her and scrolling through his phone. 

"Hmm… the red one," he says, not even looking up from whatever he's doing.

"You're not even looking!" She accuses, throwing her hands up, the dresses flying dramatically into opposite corners of the room.

"Come on Ace, you're going to a lunch with your parents, not the Met gala." Rowan is still not looking at her. 

Aelin crosses her arms. "Well, what's more important than this, then?" Her tone shows more of the hurt she feels than she'd like. It's ridiculous to feel this betrayed over Rowan's lack of interest in her dress, but she can't help it. Ever since he told her about his crush on Remelle a few months ago, he barely talks about anything else anymore. And he even managed to make Aelin promise to help him talk to the girl. She has since found out that she'd rather eat her own hair than listen to Rowan talk about how pretty or how interesting Remelle is. 

Rowan finally puts his phone down and looks at her. "I've been invited to this party and I was just texting a few people to find out who else would be there."

That makes Aelin's brows rise. "You've been invited to a party? By who?"

"Fenrys. He's on the lacrosse team with me."

"Oh. So is it a team party?"

"Nah, apparently it's only a few guys from the team, along with some of Fenrys's other friends. Plus a few of the cheerleaders."

Now Aelin knows what's up. "Let me guess: including Remelle?"

The tips of Rowan's ears turn pink. "Yes, including Remelle. I think this party could be the perfect opportunity for me to finally take the next step! Our talks in school have been going really great – thanks for all the tips by the way Ace – but I'm not sure she would be interested in being more than friends."

Aelin tries very hard not to let her face make a grimace, but she isn't entirely sure she's succeeding. Rowan doesn't seem to notice though, so apparently she's doing an okay-enough job. "So you're hoping to what – test the waters at this party?" She really wishes she was not having this conversation right now.

"Yes?" Rowan says, but it sounds more like a question. "I just… I like her, Ace. A lot. Like, I-hope-she'll-be-my-first-kiss levels."

Aelin thinks she needs to be sitting for this conversation, so she walks over to her vanity opposite the bed and sits on the white stool, facing Rowan on her bed. "That's amazing," she says weakly. 

Rowan raises an eyebrow. "What's up with you? You're acting kinda weird."

"Oh, nothing," her laugh comes out high and fake. "I just can't believe you got invited to a party before me." 

He seems to accept that and Aelin is relieved. How is she supposed to explain something she doesn't understand herself?

"Why don't you come with me then?" He says it suddenly, but she can already tell he loves the idea. "We'll go to our first high school party together and you can help me with Remelle."

"How am I supposed to help you kiss her? Do you want me to smash your heads together like two barbie dolls?" Yep, her voice is definitely shrill now. 

"Okay, maybe not for that then," Rowan backpedals. "But come on Ace, it'll be fun. And I don't want to go alone."

"I don't know, Rowan."

"Ple-ease?" He adds, drawing out the syllable into two and looking at her with what could only be described as puppy-dog eyes. He only uses those when he wants something really bad. 

Aelin sighs, knowing she can't say no to him now. "Fine," she relents. 

Rowan's answering cheer is deafening. 

The party is happening the following Saturday at some Lacrosse-players house. Aelin has never met the guy, but the neighborhood is not too far from her own so she's passed the house often. It's a nice, white, two-story building with a balcony that faces the driveway. There's a garden out of sight, judging by the chatter and music that can be heard. Aelin and Rowan walk up to the front door, the chilly January air making Aelin glad she chose to bring her winter jacket, even though it clashes with her outfit. There's a spring to Rowan's step she's never seen before. Aelin tries not to think about that too much. 

"So what do we do now? Do we knock?" Aelin doesn't know the proper protocol for parties. She's never been invited to one before, after all.

"No, I think we just go in?" Rowan says and tries the handle. It's unlocked and Aelin can see a few people crowding the hallway. She takes a deep breath and follows Rowan into the house.

There's a ton of people once they reach the living room. A few guys Aelin recognizes from the Lacrosse team are crowded on the light gray sectional, some of the cheerleaders from their grade sitting between them, and in one case on a guy's lap. She can also see a terrace that leads to the garden she guessed was there. Fairy lights are strung up around the terrace, shining brightly in the dark of the evening and some upperclassmen are dipping their feet into a pool that's placed in the middle of the garden. The steam rising from the water tells her it's heated. 

It's surprisingly unlike anything she imagined a high-school party to be like. The atmosphere is relaxed and people are just talking while some pop music is playing. Aelin would feel comfortable if she didn't feel so terribly out of place. She's not friends with anyone except for Rowan, she now notices.

"Do you want to drink something?" Rowan asks her, already waving to one of the guys on the sectional. Aelin recognizes him. It's Fenrys, the guy who invited Rowan.

"Sure. Some kind of soda or something. You know what I like."

"Okay, be right back," he tells her and leaves to find the kitchen. 

She takes a few steps into the room, unsure of where to go, when the girl next to Fenrys smiles at her. "You're Aelin, right?"

"Yeah."

"I'm Essar. And this grump here," she points to a guy to the other side of her, "is Lorcan, my boyfriend." The guy looks a bit older than them and gives Aelin a nod. 

"Oh, yeah, I know." Aelin says lamely. "We have math together?"

"Oh right," Essar slaps her forehead dramatically.  "You sit in the front, right? I always take the back row, so I'm probably more familiar with the back of your head." She laughs and Aelin can't help but laugh too. 

"I can turn around if you think that helps?" Aelin suggests.

"Oh no, don't worry. Here, sit down though," she points at a place opposite her on the floor. Someone put pillows there to make extra seats, so Aelin happily complies. 

She and Essar fall into an easy conversation when Rowan finally returns with two drinks in hand. She smiles gratefully at him before she realizes he's followed by none other than Remelle. 

The smile falls off her face when she sees them talking animatedly before Remelle throws her head back to laugh at something Rowan said. 

She's never seen Remelle this close and this unguarded. Usually she's surrounded by a gaggle of other cheerleaders. But even though Aelin doesn't know Remelle, she can tell the girl likes Rowan. It's obvious from her body language and the way she looks at him. Aelin's stomach turns. 

"Remelle! Nice of you to show up as well," Essar greets her. 

Right. How could Aelin forget they were friends?

"Well, it doesn't seem like I missed much," she teases, pointing at the party around them. 

Rowan hands Aelin the drink he brought and sits down next to her on the floor while Remelle talks. 

"Thanks," she mutters, though she's not sure he's listening. 

His eyes are still fixed on Remelle who now says, "How about we do something fun?"

"Like what?" Fenrys interjects.

"Like spin the bottle," she suggests, eyes on Rowan. 

Oh god. Is this what Aelin thinks it is?

"I'm in," Fenrys says, a grin spreading on his face that Aelin can't help but describe as mischievous. 

"Us too," Rowan says immediately, shooting Aelin a look. 

She can't believe he just agreed for her. But hey, at least he thought of her at all, right?

They round up everyone who wants to play, which is mostly people from their grade who aren't there with their significant others, along with one or two upperclassmen. 

She's sitting next to Rowan in the circle they formed on the carpet in the living room. The people who aren't playing are sitting on the sectional, watching their game and chatting.

The game starts and the first few rounds are a bit boring, Aelin thinks. Fenrys starts and his bottle lands on a cheerleader. Then the cheerleader's bottle lands on another cheerleader. Some of the guys whoop when they kiss and Aelin rolls her eyes. She's glad to see Essar do the same from the sectional, Lorcan next to her with an arm around her shoulder.

The cheerleader spins and it lands on one of the upperclassmen. He's attractive, with cropped chestnut hair and copper eyes. He and the cheerleader kiss and then he spins the bottle. It turns and turns until finally, it points straight at Aelin. 

She's never kissed anyone before and while she knew what this game entails, she hadn't really made the connection that she might have to kiss someone. Her throat goes dry while the guy gives her an encouraging smile. 

Oh god, can he see how nervous she suddenly is? Aelin feels like she might die. But then she squares her shoulders and decides to be brave. She leans forward and the guy meets her halfway. She closes the distance between their mouths. It's… okay, she guesses? She can feel the warm press of his lips against hers, can smell the shampoo he uses and it only lasts a heartbeat or two before they pull apart. 

When she settles back on her knees next to Rowan, his gaze is on her. She can't quite decipher the emotion on his face, so she whispers a quiet "What?" 

He just shakes his head and points at the bottle. Right, now it's her turn. Better get it over with.

Aelin gives the bottle a good strong spin and it turns even longer than it did before. It comes to a stop pointing slightly to the left of her – right at Rowan. She can feel her heart speed up. If she thought she was nervous for her first kiss, it's nothing compared to what she feels now. There's a tingle spreading from her stomach all the way to her fingertips.

She turns to Rowan, whose eyes are locked on the bottle as if he could move it with the power of his mind alone. "You know, we don't have to do this," she whispers, but there's a rushing sound in her ears so she might have spoken louder than she intended. 

"Hey, no fair! Rules are rules!" One of the lacrosse dudes shouts.

Finally, Rowan's eyes lift to hers. There's another look on his face that Aelin has never seen. She doesn't really know what to do with that. Usually, she feels like she knows him better than she knows herself. There's nothing usual about this situation though. 

"No, it's fine," he just says. "He's right, rules are rules."

Rowan leans over slightly and so does she. Her breath catches and she closes her eyes. She feels the moment his lips meet hers, the soft but insistent press of his mouth against hers. She knows Rowan inside out, but still the smell of him this close is intoxicating. 

He pulls back after a second and it's all Aelin can do not to follow his mouth with hers. Rowan turns his face back toward the circle, toward the bottle and after another second, so does Aelin. 

As Rowan reaches for the bottle, there's only one thing playing in Aelin's mind. I just kissed my best friend. 

Then the bottle lands on Remelle and Aelin doesn't think anything anymore. She watches a shy but inviting smile spread on the other girl's face. She sees Rowan lean forward, the motion looking so eager and Remelle does the same. Aelin watches numbly as their lips meet. The kiss lasts longer than any of the others did, though it's still just a peck. It shouldn't be different than her kisses but Aelin can feel that it is. This is a kiss that is going to change her friendship with Rowan forever. It's ironic, she thinks, that this kiss is what will change things, when she and Rowan just kissed not five minutes ago. 

They pull apart and at the soft smile she sees on Remelle's face, a smile that is mirrored on Rowan's, Aelin feels faint. 

She waits another two turns, when she hopes no one will make the connection, and stands up.

"This was so fun guys," the cheer in her voice is entirely fake but no one knows her well enough to tell. Except for one person. "But my parents set me a curfew, so I have to leave." There's a few commiserative groans. "I know," she laughs. "But thanks for inviting me. See you guys around school!"

"See you," Essar says, a few others echoing the sentiment or simply waving. 

Aelin is almost impressed with herself at how composed she seems.

She turns toward the door and sees Rowan stand up to follow her. He catches up to her and says, "I didn't know you had a curfew."

"Yeah, I'm just tired, but I didn't want to look boring,'" she lies. She's never lied to Rowan. It makes her feel even stranger. 

"Oh, okay. Just give me a moment to say goodbye and then we can leave." He looks slightly disappointed by the prospect. 

"It's fine. Stay. I can make it back on my own." She doesn't know why she said that. She doesn't mean it. But maybe she hopes that tonight hasn't changed things after all. She hopes he'll walk her home as always, that everything will still be normal tomorrow.

"Really? That would be amazing. I'll see you tomorrow, okay? Be safe." Rowan hugs her and Aelin is sure she must have misheard him. There's no way he just did that. But as he turns his back to her and walks back toward the laughter, she realizes that he did. 

"Damn. What a dick." The guy she kissed is standing in a doorway on the right halfway between her and the living room. He probably had a perfect view of their exchange.

Aelin wants to defend Rowan. After all, who is this guy to call her best friend a dick? But she can't really argue his point right now. 

"I'm Chaol, by the way," the guy offers and Aelin realizes she's still looking towards the living room. 

"Aelin," she just says.

"Well Aelin, I was actually just leaving," Chaol tells her. "Can I walk you home instead?" There's a smile on his face that suits him very well. He really is attractive, Aelin thinks to herself. 

"That would be nice," she answers and Chaol opens the door for her.

---

thanks for reading!

let me know your thoughts/theories in the comments or reblogs! <3

--- 

tag list:

@yafandomsnet

#my writing #rowan whitethorn #modern au #rowan x aelin #throne of glass fanfiction #friends don't look at friends that way #rowaelin #rowaelin fanfic #throne of glass #sarah j maas

[featherymalignancy]

The way you wrote Rowan is probably the best modern au I’ve read on here. He’s the cutest !!!!

Yay thank you! He was the character I was probably most nervous to write bc he’s the character I felt I really “knew” the least, so I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to translate him into a modern setting in a way that was actually satisfying to read!

It’s so nice to know that people liked him!

#feathery answers #rowan whitethorn #eyes of Texas #rowaelin modern au #acotar x tog modern au crossover

[nalgenewhore]

boundaries

elide x lorcan, modern/university au, our roommates are dating, NSFW, word count: 9111

Lorcan exhaled heavily as he finally reclined in his too small, too uncomfortable bed. There was no hope for anyone above average size in student residence, even if he had a larger bed. He huffed, there was nothing XL about his extra-large twin. His feet still hung off the edge, and tonight he was too tired to curl up. 

The only small mercy of tonight was that Rowan had decided to stay at Aelin’s. Finally. Whenever they spent the night here, Lorcan considered smashing his head against the cinder brick walls. It would be a better fate than spending the night with the couple. They were very… passionate, to say the least. Disgustingly, bordering-on-sexual-harrassment passionate.

He could feel how close, how blissfully close he was to falling asleep. Lorcan turned onto his stomach and sighed as he wrapped his arms around his pillow. 

At that very moment, someone started pounding on his door. Lorcan’s eyes snapped open, and he swore loudly. The knocking didn’t stop, so he angrily got out of bed. He ripped the door open in hopes of catching whoever it was off-guard. “What the actual fuck,” he seethed, “is your gods-damned problem?”

The girl who stood there didn’t flinch or cower when confronted with his anger, even though Lorcan doubted her head would even reach his shoulders. Her dark eyes flashed in anger. He noticed she was carrying a pillow and dressed in pyjamas. “This is Rowan Whitethorn’s room, right?” He blinked dumbly, and the girl snapped, “Well?”

Lorcan bristled at her tone and straightened to his full size, glowering down at her. He crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s it to ya?”

She huffed, “Your roommate and mine are no better than feral animals and seem to have very little spatial awareness. So,” she sighed, shifting her weight. “I need a place to sleep, and I know there’s a free bed here.” Her brows raised hopefully.

He cocked a straight, dark eyebrow and leaned against the doorframe. “Yeah, so?”

The girl – Aelin’s roommate, he deduced – deflated, her shoulders curling inwards. “Please don’t make me go back to my room.”

Lorcan decided to take pity on her. He dipped his chin, stepping aside to let her in. She gave him a half-smile as she slipped past him. “Thanks,” she told him over her shoulder.

He waved it off and closed the door, plunging the room into darkness. “Don’t mention it. No one deserves to share a room with them.” Lorcan flicked on the lamp to see her stood between his bed and Rowan’s. He approached his bed and nodded towards the lofted one opposite his. “That’s Ro’s. Have at it.” With that, Lorcan laid back down and rolled towards the wall. 

Lorcan listened for the sounds of her getting into Rowan’s bed, but the room stayed completely silent. He sighed in annoyance, rolling back, “Look, princess, I know Rowan’s a fucking nymphomaniac, but he’s also a neat freak, so…”

The girl whipped her head around, eyes flashing, “Don’t fucking call me that.” She turned back to the bed, sighing. “It’s not that. I’m just unsure how ‘m supposed to get into it, is all.”

He sat up, looking between her and the bed. “Huh. How ‘bout that?” Lorcan got to his feet. 

She whirled around, “What do you think you’re doing?”

Lorcan held his hands up. “Cool it, killer. I was just going to ask if you wanted some help.” He glanced down her body. “No offence, you’re, uh, pretty tiny and Rowan’s not.”

“Oh. Um. Yes, thank you,” she said, still wary. “You can help me.”

He braced his hands around her waist and bent his knees. No way was he blowing out his back all because he wanted to impress some chick. “Ready?” When he nodded, Lorcan stood up and lifted her too. He gently sat her on Rowan’s bed. Her eyes widened, and her plush lips curled around an ‘oh’. Lorcan ducked his head, suddenly shy. “I play rugby for the school. I’m a prop,” he supplied.

She made a face, “Sorry, I don’t know anything about rugby.”

“Oh. Well, one thing I do is lift locks – that’s a position – during lineouts.”

She nodded sagely. “So that’s how you and Rowan ended up together? The rugby team?”

Lorcan nodded as he went back to his bed. “Yup.”

“Is Rowan a prop?”

He snorted, “Nah, he’s too small. He’s a scrum half, kinda like a quarterback?” He reclined once more, tucking his hands beneath his head. 

The girled laid down. “Ah.” She shifted around for a bit until she settled on her side with her arms and legs neatly tucked against her torso. “You can turn the light off now.”

Lorcan reached out and turned it off. His gaze drifted back to her. Now, the only light source was the moon cascading through the window. It reflected off her ebony hair, making it glisten. It was fascinating. “I’m Lorcan, by the way,” he said softly. He suddenly felt very strange that they didn’t know each other’s names, yet they were sleeping only a couple metres apart. 

Upon further reflection, Lorcan realised that Rowan probably mentioned it before, but Lorcan hadn’t cared enough to remember his roommate’s girlfriend’s roommate’s name. 

He cared now. 

Her eyes opened. “I’m Elide,” she offered. “It’s nice to meet you, Lorcan.”

The sound of his name on her lips made his foolish heart falter. Lorcan repressed his shiver. “Good night, Elide.”

Elide’s smile grew, and she whispered, “Sweet dreams, Lorcan.”

✵✵✵✵✵

Over the next month or so, Elide Lochan became a regular visitor at Lorcan and Rowan’s dorm. She’d show up with a small, tired smile, her pillow, and her bookbag. Lorcan always let her in. 

He’d learned a lot about her. She was from Perranth, born and raised, and she and Aelin knew each other through their parents – friends since childhood. Lorcan knew she was an only child, and she’d met his younger sisters – Winona and Tallulah – once when he happened to be on FaceTime with them.

Sometimes, they met up on purpose to study together. Lorcan often found himself in awe at the ways her brain worked. 

When she came over to steal Rowan’s bed, they didn’t just go to sleep anymore.

They stayed up talking about nothing and everything. 

Lorcan had learned many important things about Elide, like she was at the Kingsflame University on a full-ride academic scholarship. The girl was wicked smart. She wanted to be a logician, and the thing about that was– Lorcan had had to take a deductive logic class his first year in computer science, and after three months, all he’d learned was that he never, ever wanted to talk about deductive logic ever again. 

He didn’t seem to mind it when Elide talked about it. 

Lorcan knew that Elide didn’t like movies, only TV shows, and her favourite show was Seinfeld, even if she could spend hours – and did – ranting about how she couldn’t stand Jerry and George. She hated cereal and shuddered every morning she woke up to him eating a bowl of Cheerios. Lorcan learned that Elide was not a morning person, and she hated coffee, even though she needed a dose of caffeine to move past monosyllabic grunts when she first woke, so she drank, more like chugged, three cups of black tea. He learned that she preferred poetry over novels, and that Audre Lorde and Leonard Cohen were tied for her all-time favourites. Her favourite genre of music was goth, and she knew a freaky amount of trivia about Depeche Mode and the Cramps.

He knew that she was mostly indifferent about sports, especially team sports, but she still tagged along with Aelin to rugby games. Whenever they scored a try, or succeeded in a lineout, Lorcan found himself looking for her in the stands.

At this point, Lorcan knew Elide better than he knew Rowan these days. It used to bother him that Rowan was never around, and he’d ditch plans in a second if Aelin was available, but since Elide started coming around, he wasn’t so upset anymore. 

They were watching a movie one night, because Lorcan had declared that it was simply unacceptable that she’d never seen Inception. She’d been apprehensive, but he always managed to convince her.

“You like metaphysics, right? Like in philosophy?”

Elide scrunched her nose, “I guess… I mean, I think it’s a bit pointless, but it’s cool to think about.”

Lorcan grinned triumphantly. “Ok, well, Inception is metaphysics, princess, just fun and directed by Christopher Nolan.”

She’d outright laughed when he told her Inception was the best piece of metaphysical theory ever created, calling him an idiot, but she’d agreed.

Lorcan and Elide were sitting horizontal on his bed, their backs against the wall. At first, the laptop had been between them, then Elide had told him she was cold. He had put the computer on his lap so that Elide could press against his side and he could wrap his arm around her. 

He split his time between watching the screen and watching Elide. Lorcan found that he enjoyed watching her reactions more. 

“–even if it was true that we were only dreaming all the time, we would still need to exist in a reality where it’s possible to dream, you get that right? So, technically, we’d still be conscious beings, we just experience consciousness through our subconscious, but even if you accept that,” Elide explained, her hands gesticulating, “it’s kinda an inconsequential question because conscious experience is inherently relative and subjective, so what does it matter? This would still be my reality, this would still be all I know if it turns out I’m attached to some machine that keeps me asleep.”

“Y’know, princess, when I said it was like metaphysics, I wasn’t being serious, right?”

“You brought this on yourself, Salvaterre, it’s—”

Someone roughly shoved the door open, cutting Elide off.

Lorcan’s arm tightened around Elide as she startled, and two pairs of dark eyes turned to glare at the intruder. Upon finding Rowan, their glares deepened. 

The silver-haired boy paused, then rolled his eyes. “Elide,” he muttered.

She looked up at Lorcan, then slowly extricated herself from his hold. “Hi, Rowan,” she answered flatly.

“I thought you were staying at Aelin’s tonight,” Lorcan said, not caring that his tone made the sentence more like an accusation than a statement. 

“I was, but,” Rowan’s jaw clenched, “I’m not anymore.” He glanced at Elide, seeming irritated.

Lorcan’s jaw clicked. What right did Rowan, of all people, have to be irritated that someone else was in their dorm room? It was all too rich.

Elide must have picked up on his irritation. Her brows rose in incredulity, and she shared a look with Lorcan. He shook his head a bit, but she just glanced back at Rowan and shrugged. 

Rowan cleared his throat obnoxiously, still glaring at Elide. “I don’t mean to interrupt whatever you two are doing,” he muttered before angrily getting into his bed and turning away.

Elide frowned at Lorcan, and he shook his head, leaning down to whisper. “Just stay ‘till the movie’s over.”

She didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t leave. Instead, she curled closer to him and rested her head on his chest. “Ok, then.” Elide reached out to press play on the movie, then lowered the volume. 

Neither one of them could really pay attention. Rowan’s irritation rolled off of him in waves, and Elide felt too weird to relax. Lorcan could feel it too. His jaw ticked. He was pissed that Rowan was acting his way. Typically, his friend was more polite – Lorcan couldn’t say what happened to make him act this way.

Lorcan moved his arm around Elide to hold her tighter. He knew Rowan hadn’t fallen asleep and was just stewing in his pissy attitude. 

At some point, while watching the movie, Elide gasped loudly. 

Rowan flipped over, snapping, “Elide, can you get out?”

She startled, “What?”

He repeated himself, then said, “You’re being loud, and I’m trying to sleep here. Why don’t you go back to your room?”

Lorcan glared at him, his lips thinning, “Ro—”

“Y’know, it’s my room, too, so I get a say in who’s in here, and who’s not.” He worked his jaw. “So get out.”

The girl laughed coldly at the irony of it all. She slowly sat up, and Lorcan’s chest prickled from the loss of pressure and warmth. “Right. I’m intruding on your space, is that it?” Elide looked at Lorcan with a shrug, but he could see the hurt in her eye. “Sorry, Lor, I guess we’ll just finish it another day.”

With that, Elide crawled off his bed and started gathering her things. Lorcan sent another murderous look Rowan’s way, then got up to help her. Elide’s pillow had been on Rowan’s bed, and the prick hadn’t even noticed. He’d already turned back towards the wall. 

Elide marched over, reached up, and yanked it out from under his head. 

Rowan flipped over, “What the fuck, Elide?”

“I don’t want to forget my pillow,” she retorted. “Have a good sleep, Rowan.”

The way she said made it very clear she would probably prefer Rowan having the worst sleep of his life. Elide didn’t say another word as she stormed towards the door, yanking it open. 

Lorcan stared incredulously at his roommate. “Rowan.”

Rowan frowned, “What? I don’t know what her fucking problem is.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Lorcan snarled before exiting the room. He half-jogged to catch up with Elide. “Princess, wait up.”

She sighed heavily and stopped, pivoting to face him. “I told you not to call me that,” Elide said, her voice sad. 

He slung his arm over her shoulders, “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

They both turned towards the stairs to make the trek up to Elide and Aelin’s room. 

When they got to her floor, Lorcan said, “I’m sorry about Rowan. I don’t know why he’s so pissy.”

“Oh, you know, trouble in paradise,” Elide sighed. “You don’t have to apologise for him, he’s not sorry.”

“I still feel bad.”

She flashed him a brittle smile. “Thanks.”

Too soon, they made it to Elide’s room.

She slowed in front of her door, but she didn’t make any move to open it. 

Lorcan glanced between her and the door, an eyebrow raised in question. 

“I don’t want to go in if Aelin’s still awake. She’s going to walk to talk about whatever happened, and,” Elide laughed coldly. “I’m so fucking done with their shit.”

He rubbed her back, opening his mouth to reassure her. 

Before he could, the door ripped open. He and Elide jumped – seriously, what was Aelin and Rowan’s obsession with aggressively opening doors?

“There you are!” Aelin exclaimed in accusation. “I’ve been texting you, Elide, y’know, it wouldn’t kill you to check your phone once in a while.”

Elide sighed. “Good night, Lorcan.”

He thinned his lips, narrowing his eyes at Aelin. “‘Night, Elide. Good luck.”

She laughed quietly. “You too.”

Lorcan shoved his hands in his pockets and pivoted on his heel. 

Elide looked at her roommate, desperately trying to hold onto her anger. She didn’t want to get into it tonight. She brushed past Aelin, beelining to her bed. 

The door fell shut with a heavy thud. Elide’s hackles raised. She could almost feel Aelin staring at her. “What did that mean?”

“What did what mean,” Elide asked robotically as she got into bed.

“You know, Lorcan saying good luck. What did he mean?”

She sighed while pulling her blanket up to her chin. “Nothing, Aelin. It’s just a joke.”

Her roommate scoffed, “Well, yeah, but a joke about what?”

Elide clenched her jaw, “It’s nothing, Aelin, let it go.”

“If it’s nothing, why can’t you tell me what it means?”

She sat up, dragging her hands down her face. “Aelin, I really don’t want to talk about this now,” Elide said carefully. “Can you just let it go, and we’ll talk about it later?”

Aelin cocked her jaw. “No, I want to talk about it now. I never see you anymore, and when I do see you, you’re always annoyed.”

Elide pressed her lips together, weighing her options. Some part of her knew that whatever she said now, if she didn’t speak carefully, could never be taken back. It would change her friendship with Aelin, and even though she was angry with her, Elide didn’t want that. 

Slowly, she sat up and turned on her lamp. “Ok, fine. Before I say what I’m going to say, I want you to know that I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and I’m not trying to hurt you, ok?”

“...ok,” Aelin shifted uncertainly.

After a deep breath, Elide started, fighting to keep her voice even. “I’m very happy for you, that you found Rowan and you’re happy, but the way that you and Rowan act is… really disrespectful to me.”

“What? How?”

“You two are always here. You don’t ask me if it’s ok that he comes over,” she pointed out. “I don’t even like to come home most of the time because I’m scared you two will be in middle of having sex. You’ve had sex with him while I was literally two metres away, Aelin. It makes me extremely uncomfortable, ok? It’s inappropriate.”

Her roommate blushed deeply and averted her gaze. Aelin protested weakly, “We put up the screen, Elide.”

Elide scoffed, rolling her eyes. “A paper folding screen isn’t soundproof, Aelin.” She crossed her arms. “I’m just- I’m tired of it. I’m tired of you and Rowan acting like you can do whatever you want to do. This is my space too, and I feel like you don’t acknowledge that.”

“Well, you’re never here! How can we act like it’s your space if you’re barely here?”

“You’re not listening,” Elide said, hating how tight her throat got. She did not want to cry. “I’ve told you why I’m not here, and you’re not listening.” She swallowed and told Aelin, “Your boyfriend is an asshole, too. He’s mean.”

“How?” Aelin demanded. “How is he mean?”

“He kicked me out of his room.” Moisture gathered on Elide’s lashes, and her bottom lip wobbled, “Because I was watching a movie with Lorcan when you kicked him out, and he was pissed that I was in his room.”

Aelin spread her hands, “Ellie, I’m so sorry, I’m sure he didn’t mean–”

Elide slashed her hand through the air. “I don’t care what he meant. He was mean, and you two are rude, Aelin. Fix that before you apologise.” Her vision blurred, and her tears spilled over, streaking down her cheeks. Elide quickly wiped them away, shaking her head, “I told you I didn’t want to talk about this, Aelin.”

“Elide, I’m sorry,” Aelin said, her own voice tight. “I- I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, ok? I’ll talk to Ro, I’ll make him apologise.”

Crying softly, Elide shook her head. “Please, don’t. I don’t care anymore, because you’ve said you’re sorry before, but nothing ever changes, Aelin.” She looked at her roommate. “I told you I didn’t want to talk about this, I’m done talking about this. Good night, Aelin.”

“El—”

“I said good night.” With that, Elide turned the lamp off and laid down, turning away from her roommate.

Sleep did not come easily for either Elide or Aelin that night.

✵✵✵✵✵

Lorcan was stewing in the cafeteria, angrily stabbing at his bland breakfast. Eventually, he shoved the tray away from him and crossed his arms. He wasn’t hungry. 

“Don’t take it out on the poor tray,” said a dry voice. 

He looked up at Elide, his smile fading when he took in her state. A big, oversized hoodie, equally too-big sweatpants and thick glasses when she normally preferred contacts. Her face looked paler than normal, too, and she just looked so wrong. “H- hey,” he responded. Lorcan moved over on the bench, “Sit down.”

Elide put her tray down and sat with a big sigh. Without prompting, she leaned into his side. Lorcan was shocked, but he didn’t protest. He merely draped his arm around her shoulders. “So I’m guessing last night didn’t go well?”

She groaned, burying her face in her hands. “It was horrible, Lor,” Elide complained. “I cried, she cried. It was just- it was bad. And now she’s trying to be, like, cheery and friendly.” She shuddered. 

Lorcan chuckled.

“Hey, don’t laugh at me,” Elide said, sitting up with an impressive glare. “How did your night go?”

He shrugged, “It was fine. Didn’t say much.”

She rolled her eyes and turned to her oatmeal. Elide glumly poked at it, clearly not feeling like eating. “You want to finish Inception tonight? It’s pretty good, you know.”

Lorcan gasped theatrically, “Wait, what did I just hear? Did- is Elide Lochan admitting that a movie is good?”

Elide laughed a bit, digging her elbow into his side. “Don’t push it, Salvaterre. I have to find out what happened to Cobb’s wife, don’t I?”

He nodded, pulling his tray back to himself. “True, true. So, your place or mine?”

“Wherever Rowan isn’t.”

Lorcan winced and glanced at her. “I’m sorry about that, you know?” 

“You know, everyone except for Rowan has apologised for that.”

The muscles of his jaw feathered. Lorcan scooped a spoon of cereal into his mouth, speaking around his food, “Believe me, he knows what’s good for him now. He’ll apologise.”

He felt Elide looking at him, but he didn’t meet her gaze. She cocked her head to the side. “Lorcan. What does that mean?”

Lorcan shrugged, “It means that Rowan’s not the kind of guy who needs his nose broken to learn his lesson.”

“Lorcan!” she hissed. “You broke his nose?! What is wrong with you?”

“I did not break his nose,” he reassured her. “I almost broke it, and he can’t prove it was on purpose.”

Elide stared at him in disbelief. “Explain yourself.”

He shrugged again, cocking his jaw. “Rugby is a dangerous sport, Elide. Accidents happen, even in practice.” Lorcan didn’t tell her that as team captain, he often dictated their workouts, and he didn’t tell her he specifically chose a tackling drill where he could work out some of his anger on the very subject of it.

She slowly shook her head and laughed. Lorcan grinned, just happy to see something other than emptiness in her eyes. Elide leaned up to press her lips to his cheek. He froze, his eyes widening. “Thank you,” Elide whispered, “for defending my honour.”

When she pulled away, Lorcan was looking at her with an expression she’d never seen on his face before. Elide’s eyes flicked down to his lips, unwillingly. He caught the motion. Her heart started pounding, but she wasn’t scared.

His head dipped, and Elide found that she didn’t care that they were in the cafeteria. Granted, they were tucked away in the back corner, but people could see, if they tried. 

She didn’t care.

Elide tilted her chin up, shivering when his hand came to rest on the side of her neck.

“Elide,” Lorcan whispered, his breath fanning over her lips. 

Kiss me, she was about to say, about to feel his lips on hers, but they were interrupted.

Elide and Lorcan both looked to the side. 

Aelin and Rowan stood in front of them, trays laden with food. 

The darker pair exchanged a look before reluctantly pulling away. Neither went far though. Lorcan’s arm slipped around her neck, holding her closer, and Elide lifted her hand to entwine their fingers. “What do you want,” Elide snapped, glaring at Rowan. There was a bruise on his nose, and it looked swollen, yes, but not crooked or broken. A sick satisfaction filled her stomach. 

“We wanted to see if we could join you.”

“Nope.” “Nah, we’re good.” Elide and Lorcan answered in unison. 

Elide looked at Rowan. A little smirk curled her plush lips, and she tilted her head to the side. “Nice nose, Rowan.”

The tops of his ears turned bright red against the near-white of his hair. Rowan bent his head. “Yeah, I, uh, deserved that.” He looked at her, regret clear in his pine green eyes. “Elide, I’m really sorry about how I acted last night. I’m sorry for snapping at you, and for being rude.”

“You weren’t rude,” Elide said. “You were mean.”

He winced and nodded. “You’re right. I was mean to you, and I’m sorry. There’s no justification for it. I- I really just am so sorry.”

“Thank you,” she responded, genuine. “Really, Rowan.” Elide still didn’t want to be around them, even if Rowan had apologised. She looked at Aelin, who was looking like she could cry at any second. “Is that all you wanted to say, ‘cause we still don’t want to eat breakfast with you?”

Rowan muttered a curse, tugging on Aelin’s arm. “Let’s go, they obviously–”

“Rowan, stop.” Aelin pushed her shoulders back. “We know that we’ve treated the both of you really unkindly and unfairly lately,” she said. Aelin stared at Elide expectantly, “Will you let us make it up to you? Can we take you out to dinner tonight? Our treat.”

Lorcan scoffed. 

Elide glanced at him, her eyes soft and pleading. She could see that Aelin was sorry, and she didn’t want this to end their friendship. He relented, dipping his chin in assent. Elide smiled in triumph, turning back to Aelin and Rowan. “Sure. That would be nice.”

“Good. Good, ok, I’ll make reservations,” Aelin said. “I’ll text you about it.” She waved her fingers, eyes sparkling, “Enjoy your breakfast, you two.” With that, Aelin flitted away, Rowan following in her step. 

Lorcan collapsed against the padded bench. He dragged his free hand down his face and groaned, “This is going to be a shitshow.”

Elide hummed, “I don’t think so. But if it is, we’ll just leave early. Deal?”

He peeked up at her and nodded. “Deal.”

✵✵✵✵✵

Lorcan and Rowan were the first to arrive at the restaurant. They’d chosen Emrys’, a local restaurant. It was certainly fancier than the average university student’s preferred spot, but Rowan and Aelin were serious about making it up to them. If they wanted to throw their money away by wining and dining Elide and Lorcan, neither one of them was going to complain.

Despite Rowan’s apology to Elide earlier, Lorcan was still mad. He’d done his best to ignore his roommate all day, rolling his eyes when Rowan tried to talk to him or putting on his headphones the moment the other boy stepped into the room. 

He was being petty, knew he was being petty, and could not care less.

To his credit, Rowan hadn’t stopped trying. 

“Aelin texted me, she said she and Elide are almost here.”

Lorcan visibly perked up at the mention of Elide. His eyes peered through the darkened window, scanning the main street as if he could spot them. “Are they walking or taking a cab?” Their building wasn’t far away, but it was cold, and Lorcan had friends that often preferred shelling out fifteen dollars to walking downtown in heels. 

“Uh, walking, I think,” Rowan said. He studied Lorcan shrewdly and sat next to him on the bench. 

Lorcan looked at him, his upper lip curling, and moved further away. Fuck him.

“You know,” Rowan started, not one to lie down in a fight or give up. “When me and Aelin saw you two this morning, it was almost like you were about to ki—”

Faster than Rowan was expecting, Lorcan stood up. “Shut up,” he said lowly. “I’m not talking with you about Elide.” 

His roommate sighed, getting to his feet as well. “I don’t know what you want,” Rowan muttered, eyeing the people around them. He didn’t want to fight in public with Lorcan. “I apologised to her, and you almost broke my nose, Lorcan. If anything, you should be apologising to me.” Rowan regretted the words the minute they left his mouth. 

In an eerily slow manner, Lorcan turned around.

Suddenly, Rowan became very aware of how much bigger Lorcan was. It didn’t seem so obvious before now, but the other boy had a good half foot and at least fifty pounds on Rowan.

Lorcan angled his head to the side.  “Why would I apologise? I’m not sorry for it, and if I had the choice to go back, I’d do it again,” he said softly, though his voice wasn’t any less vicious. “You still don’t get it, do you? It’s not about last night, Rowan. This has been going on for months now, and Lee and I can’t take it anymore.” He leaned in, his eyes dangerously dark and flat. “You and your girlfriend are rude, and I’ve never met anyone who has such low regards for the people around them or other people’s reasonable right to fucking boundaries, which includes not having sex when you’re around other people. That is the problem, not just that you were mean to Elide.” 

Rowan opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by the arrival of the girls. 

Aelin pranced over to him, all shiny smiles and bright eyes. “Hey, you two. Sorry we’re late, Elide couldn’t decide what to wear.”

Lorcan turned around, effectively ending his exchange with Rowan. 

Elide stood just inside the front door, passing her coat and purse to the hostess. 

He was speechless. Lorcan wasn’t sure if it was the lighting, or whatever had shifted between them, but she had never looked so beautiful. Elide grinned softly, walking over to him. “Hi, there.”

Lorcan finally found his tongue. “Uh… hi.” She reached her hand out, and he took it happily, liking the way their fingers fit together. He appraised her slowly, not wanting to miss a single detail. 

Elide wore a long, slim-fitting black skirt that was made from some textured fabric. Lorcan didn’t know what it was but he liked it. Her long-sleeved top was a deep red velvet with a neckline that just barely skimmed her collarbones – a boat neckline, he thought one of his sisters had told him once. Both the neckline and the hem had some kind of subtle, short ruffle made of a delicate white, pleated material.

Like her skirt, her top fit like it was made for only her. Around her neck she wore a black-ribboned necklace with a large, glass heart pendant, that rested in the hollow between her collarbones. 

He gently untangled his hand from hers, pressing his to the small of her back. Lorcan dipped his head, able to whisper in her ear because her long hair had been swept up and held in place with a lacquered, ornamental hairstick. “You’re beautiful, princess.” He left a gentle kiss on her cheekbone, careful not to disturb her makeup.

Elide’s nose crinkled with the force of her grin. Her blush highlighted the freckles he seldom saw. “Thank you,” Elide whispered back. She smoothed her hand over his heart, fingering the fine material of his navy shirt. “You clean up good, Salvaterre.”

Lorcan laughed softly. “Did you grow, or something?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, stupid,” she said with affection. “I’m wearing heels.” Elide kicked one foot up. “Four whole inches.”

He whistled low. “Damn, Lochan. You’re, like, average height now.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Lorcan laughed again, offering her his elbow. Elide graciously slipped her hand around his bicep, giving it a squeeze before they braved the other couple. 

Neither Rowan nor Aelin commented on anything, which both Elide and Lorcan were eternally grateful for. Aelin’s eyes held a knowing look, but she just smiled happily. “Well, now that we’re here, shall we?”

A hostess led them to a table near a window that overlooked the garden next door. It was gorgeous, really. Rowan and Lorcan pulled out Aelin and Elide’s chairs, respectively, then sat across from them. 

Lorcan didn’t want to be this close to Rowan, but looking straight at Elide made up for it. He gave her a little smile, and the four of them shared idle chatter until a server came over to ask for their drinks. 

A few minutes later, the drinks arrived and Aelin proposed a toast. 

Elide laughed, but she still lifted her cocktail and eyed Lorcan until he copied her. “What are we toasting to, Aelin?”

“Um… to good friends and even better ones like you two?”

They did the obligatory clink, but Lorcan wasn’t thinking about good friends while he took a sip.

Something about the way Elide stared back at him, completely cool, yet eyes simmering with heat and hidden intentions, made him think she wasn’t thinking about good friends either.

✵✵✵✵✵

At some point during dinner, probably around the time their plates had been cleared, Elide’s hand migrated to Lorcan’s on top of the table. 

Beside them, Aelin and Rowan had fallen into their own little world, like they couldn’t help themselves. 

Elide found that it didn’t bother her tonight. She was perfectly content in her own little world with Lorcan. 

He sat leaned back in his chair, watching her with smouldering eyes. It didn’t help that he really looked too good. The deep navy of his button-up shirt, tie-less with the first two buttons undone, contrasted almost sinfully well with the richness of his copper skin. 

She sipped on her ice water, needing something to quell the pulsing heat in the pit of her stomach.

Lorcan smirked like he knew exactly what she was thinking. 

Elide was left trying to deduce a logical reason for why they had to leave early, and why Aelin couldn’t come home tonight. 

Like an angel, the waitress appeared again. She smiled politely, asking if she could interest any of them in dessert.

“I think we’re all set,” Lorcan said, briefly looking away from Elide. “Thank you, though.”

“Oh, are you sure?” Aelin asked. The only reason she didn’t pick up on their tension immediately was because she’d been so engrossed in conversation with Rowan, and Elide thanked her goddess. 

Elide smiled pleasantly. “I’m sure, I’m so full,” she said. She leaned towards her friend, kissing her cheek. “Honey, this was amazing. Thank you, really.”

“You’re welcome, but I- I really want dessert,” Aelin answered. 

“That’s ok. Stay, have dessert with Rowan.”

“Oh. Oh,” she looked quickly between Elide and Lorcan, nodding. “Right, ok, that sounds good.” Aelin smiled knowingly. She leaned closer again, speaking lowly to Elide. “Should I expect to see you tonight?”

Elide glanced across the table, where Lorcan was saying something to Rowan. “Um, I don’t think so. Enjoy the room, Ae.”

The blonde chuckled. “Be safe.”

Rowan and Lorcan sat back, having reached some sort of agreement. “Enjoy your night,” Rowan said.

Lorcan thanked him, though Elide still saw a mark of irritation. He got to his feet, offering Elide his hand. She took it, smoothly standing up and brushing her hand down her skirt. Once she was on her feet, Lorcan slipped his hand around her waist. “Thank you for dinner,” he said, squeezing Elide’s side.

The silver-haired boy simply inclined his head, taking Aelin’s hand again.

Elide said one last good-bye to Aelin, and then Lorcan was tugging her towards the hostess stand. She giggled at his impatience as they waited for their coats and Elide’s purse.

They walked out of the restaurant, the very picture of self-control.

✵✵✵✵✵

Elide eyed Lorcan as he used his student ID to let them into the building. “Lor,” she started, sliding her hand up his arm. 

“Yeah?”

“Why are you still mad at Rowan? I thought everything was ok now.”

His jaw clenched, and she regretted asking him. She didn’t want to ruin their night with talk about Rowan. “Why would everything be ok now?”

She shrugged, “He apologised to me, you almost broke his nose…”

Lorcan sighed through his nose. “I’m not mad at him anymore for what he did to you because you’ve forgiven him. But there’s stuff that’s just between me and him, like there was stuff between you and Aelin.” He looked at her, his brows lowered. “He hasn’t apologised for that yet.”

“Oh.” Elide suddenly felt very selfish. Of course Lorcan would have his own feelings, exclusive to however she’d been treated. Gods, she’d made it all about her, hadn’t she? Cheeks burning with embarrassment, she let Lorcan lead her to his room, silent. 

When they got to the door, Lorcan turned around. “Where’d you go?”

“Hmm? Nowhere, I’m right here.”

He frowned again. “You got all quiet.”

Elide shifted, trying to look away, but he held her chin steady, forcing her to look at him. She swallowed, trying to find her words. “I just- I kinda just made everything about me, and that was selfish.”

Lorcan almost recoiled, “What? What’re you talking about, selfish?”

She blushed again. “I basically acted like you should forgive Rowan immediately ‘cause he apologised, like you don’t have your own feelings about it.”

Realisation dawned on him. “Oh. I didn’t think you were selfish.” Lorcan bent his head, the tips of their noses touching. His voice was soft. “I don’t think you’re selfish, ‘lide.”

“You don’t?” she murmured, hardly knowing what they were talking about anymore.

“No, never.” His lips brushed against hers, and he whispered, “You know what, princess?”

“What?”

“I don’t want to talk about Rowan right now.”

“Neither do I.”

He kissed her deeply, one of his arms wrapping around her waist. Elide moaned a bit, her eyes falling shut. Vaguely, she realised that Lorcan was opening the door. 

He tugged her inside and then pressed her against the door. “Fuck,” Lorcan whispered. His tongue licked into her mouth in a way that made her knees weak. She wrapped her arms around his neck, needing more, more, more. Lorcan sucked on her bottom lip, digging his teeth into the plushness of it before he let go. 

Elide was unable to help herself and gasped into his mouth. She felt, more than heard, his cocky chuckle. A bit wickedly, Elide traced the tip of her tongue over his kiss-bitten lips. She pulled her hands down from his neck to push at his coat. “Off,” she mumbled. 

His coat was gone within seconds. 

Her lips curled into a knowing smile against his, and Lorcan grasped her head between his hands, tilting her face just so. As he slanted his mouth against, Elide raked her long nails down his torso to his belt. 

Lorcan’s powerful body shuddered against her. He pressed her harder into the door, the kiss almost bruising. She groaned as he marked heavy, hot kisses down her jaw and throat. Elide’s arms slipped around his head as she tipped her chin up to encourage him. “Lor…” she moaned breathlessly. 

One of his hands dragged down her side to cup her ass. “‘lide,” Lorcan whispered, nipping the sensitive skin of her throat. 

“Mmm?”

“D’you know how good you look, princess?” he asked her. 

Elide’s eyes opened, and she hummed as he sucked a little mark against her pulse. She smirked, of course she knew how good she looked, but... “No. You should show me,” she murmured, “how good I look.”

Lorcan pulled away, breathing hard while he stared down at her. His eyes were wild, holding a promise like he would fall to his knees and worship her the moment she told him to. 

She pressed a hand into the middle of his chest and gently shoved him backwards. 

He staggered back a step, unable to tear his eyes away from her. 

Elide stepped away from the door and around him. She forced Lorcan to turn around as she waltzed to the middle of the room.

First, she shrugged off her long overcoat. 

His throat bobbed as he dragged his eyes over her body. 

Slowly, tantalisingly, Elide took the edge of her shirt and pulled it over her head. She let it slip through her fingers, and she was sure Lorcan wasn’t breathing now. Something like pride, pride that she had him so close to his knees for her, glowed in her chest and throbbed between her thighs. Elide knew exactly how good her sheer lilac balconette bra made her tits look. 

He stepped closer, the evidence of his arousal pressing against his pants zipper.

Elide reached behind herself to unzip her skirt, and the slinky material slipped off her like blood from a wound. She was left bare, save for the matching sheer lingerie set – she really liked him – her strappy, platform heels that made her legs look like they went on for miles, and her necklace.

The last thing Elide did before Lorcan lost the wavering grip on his self-control was reach up and pull out the hairstick keeping her hair up. Her dark hair fell down sleekly, and she smirked. “Well? Show me.”

His hands wrapped around her waist before he tugged her into him, his lips finding hers like he was drowning and she was his only chance to breathe. “Beautiful,” Lorcan murmured, his tongue slicking against hers. He turned her to his bed and gave her a gentle nudge, so Elide sat herself on the edge of the mattress. 

She propped herself up with her hands behind her. 

Lorcan kneeled and hooked his hands beneath her knees, tugging her closer while spreading her legs. He leaned in to kiss her centre. Elide shuddered as she moaned, one of her hands slipping into his hair, either to hold him there or pull him closer. 

He looked up at her before raising, kissing her again. “I’ll make you feel good,” he promised. “Better than you’ve ever felt.”

She nodded, desperately trying to hold onto her power. His hands slid up and down her thighs, hot and slow. 

“You want that?” he asked, pulling away to kiss the corner beneath her jaw. 

Elide gasped, her head falling back. “Yes,” she sighed. 

Lorcan smirked again. Then. “Say please.”

Her eyes flew open, and she gawked at him. He merely arched a brow, as if waiting. Elide swallowed, her cunt pulsing. “Please,” she whispered. “Make me feel good.”

Lorcan gave her one last kiss before he moved down her body. One of his hands slid up her stomach to the heavy underside of her breast. While he peppered her chest with mindless touches of his lips, his hand expertly unhooked her bra. Elide let it fall, and Lorcan tossed it away.

For a moment, he just stared at her ample cleavage. Elide almost whined, needing some sort of reprieve. 

He looked at her, holding her gaze as he lowered his mouth to one nipple, circling it slowly with his tongue as her breath hitched before he drew it into his mouth. Lorcan lapped at it greedily, his eyes shutting to savour her as his hands moved to her tits, kneading both at the same time. 

Elide’s fingers dug into his dug as he worked her, her hips uselessly trying to rut themselves against his hard abdomen. “Lorcan,” she moaned as his mouth switched sides, this time licking the underside of her breast before. 

She was almost sad when he moved on, kissing his way down her body, but she knew his final destination. 

Lorcan looked up at her when he hooked his fingers in the band of her panties. He pressed a kiss to the hollow of her hip. “These are cute.”

“F-fuck, they’re new,” she confessed. 

“Oh, yeah?” he asked, feigning interest as he stroked his thumb back and forth over the junction between her hip and pelvis. 

Elide bit her lip, thinking it was cute how unaware he was. She sat up to lean down, one arm beneath her breasts to push them up. Lips brushing the shell of his ear while her fingers slid over his shoulder, feeling the muscles ripple, Elide told him, “I bought them today.”

He stilled at her admission. 

Smug, she leaned back on her hands again, her head leaned to the side. 

Lorcan’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Did you now,” he asked, his voice hardly above a guttural growl. 

“Yeah,” she sighed. “You like when I wear purple, right?”

His hand slipped beneath her ass to yank the offending garment off. “I prefer nothing,” Lorcan told her. 

Elide shook when he dipped his mouth to her, thinking he would finally give her what she wanted. Of course, he didn’t, the fucking tease.

Lorcan’s hands slipped down to her ankles, and Elide remembered she still had her shoes on. He fiddled with the buckles before pulling them off, one by one. Next, he kissed the inside of her thighs, and she thought he really was trying to kill her. 

“Lorcan,” she half-moaned, half-whined. “Please, baby.”

“Please, what?” he asked, so close to her awaiting centre she could feel the vibrations of his deep voice.

Elide spread her legs wider. “Please make me feel good.”

He winked at her – the bastard winked – before dipping his mouth to her cunt. The instant his tongue touched her, Elide’s hips bucked. She slid her fingers into his hair, pulling on the silky strands. She could feel him chuckling against her as he alternated between long, slow strokes up her slit and little touches against her clit. 

Elide moaned, long and low. 

He worked her up slowly before paying his undivided attention to the little bundle of nerves. Elide started having trouble breathing, and the arm propping her up gave up. She crashed onto her back, her other hand joining the one in his hair. 

She vocalised her pleasure through pants of his name and moans as a delicious tension spread from her pelvis, slowly overtaking her entire body. Whatever noises she made only encouraged Lorcan. He feasted on her like he was on death row and she was his last meal. 

Elide had had good head before, this? Godly.

She was so close in minutes, her thighs attempting to trap him. Elide could feel it erupting within, and just as she came, she looked down and saw Lorcan looking up at her through his lashes. She cried out as her orgasm crested. Her back arched while she shuddered, and she pulled on his hair, not noticing how tight her grip was. 

Elide was limp, her heart almost pounding out of her chest as he rose above her. She pulled him down, hungrily kissing him. “You’re,” she panted, “still dressed.”

Lorcan ran his hands up her sides to her waist. He squeezed her once before pulling away. Elide’s whine was soothed the moment she saw him unbuttoning his shirt. She kneeled on shaky legs to help him. 

His lips found hers again, and she yanked his shirt out of his pants, too aroused for reason. Elide needed him bare, now. 

Once his shirt was off, she backed away and reclined against his headboard, knees bent. 

Lorcan almost tripped over himself in his haste to rid himself of his remaining articles of clothing. She crooked a finger towards, and he wrapped his arms around her, settling himself in the cradle of her thighs. 

She sighed as she finally felt his skin, so soft and warm. 

They exchanged slow, languid kisses, sinking into each other. Both were painfully aware how badly they still wanted each other. Elide nipped at his bottom lip, whispering, “Do you have a condom?”

Lorcan forced himself to part from her. “You’re sure?”

Elide nodded. “So sure.”

He reached over to his nightstand and fished one out of the drawer while Elide entertained herself by running her hand down his body. She wrapped one hand around his hard cock, grinning when he shook. Lorcan’s head fell against her shoulder, his eyes watching her as she moved her hand up and down, slowly. 

His hips canted forward of their own accord, and he bit her shoulder, “Not nice.”

“I never said I was,” she countered. 

Elide kissed his jaw as she took the condom out of his hand, carefully ripping the package. She tossed it aside after Lorcan took the condom from her and kneeled, her legs draped over his thighs. With her watching, he rolled the rubber on. His hands moved back to her hips, and he leaned down, his lips finding hers. “You’re good?”

She liked that he kept checking on her, but she just wanted him to fuck her. At that moment, it was the only thing she wanted. 

The boy above her laughed lowly. “Alright, princess, you don’t gotta beg.” 

She didn’t even care that she’d spoken her thoughts aloud, not when he finally pushed into her. And kept pushing into her.

Elide felt like her lungs were in her throat when he bottomed out. “Oh, fuck.”

Then, Lorcan started pumping into her. He kept his motions slow, torturously so. Elide gripped the pillow beneath her head, fighting to keep her eyes open. She wanted to appraise him in all his debased glory, the way the muscles beneath his amber skin rippled as he fucked her. 

She gave into the feeling, almost forgetting that her body was just a vessel for pleasure or for their connection as he gratified her. 

He had a bruising grip on her hips, and the muscles in his jaw clenched as he pulled out until just the tip remained inside her. 

Elide moaned as he thrusted in, harder than before. She nodded, “Oh, just- just like that, baby, please.”

Lorcan groaned her name. He fucked her a little harder, tilting her hips so he could reach even deeper. He watched her face, eyes locked on hers. “Princess, you’re so good,” he praised her, his thumb stroking her skin. “You’re amazing, you feel like fuckin’ heaven.”

Her teeth sunk into her reddened bottom lip, and he realised he wanted to be the one doing that. Lorcan lowered her hips as he moved, stretching over her. His weight was balanced on the hand he planted beside her head. 

He kissed her hard, his teeth digging into her lip. Lorcan lowered himself to his forearm while he lazily thrusted into her, lowering his gaze to where his dick was buried inside her. 

Elide’s hips moved back and forth, in time with him. She circled his neck with her arms, pressing her lips across his cheeks and nose until his mouth met hers. He breathed hard into her, one hand pressing her hips into his mattress. The other dipped between them, his thumb finding her clit. 

“Lorcan,” she cried out as he circled her clit. She could feel her climax building again, knowing it would be bigger and more intense than the previous one. Fuck, Elide wanted to come again, she wanted to come with him while he was inside of her. “Fuck me, fuck me, please.”

Lorcan grinned as he unleashed, snapping his hips into her. His kiss stole her ability to breathe and think straight. Harder and faster, he fucked her into the mattress, his thumb making tight circles against her clit. 

He could feel his own orgasm growing at the base of his spine. Lorcan pulled his lips from hers, burying his face into her neck. There was some sick satisfaction in the way Elide clung to him, her limbs shaking.

Panted versions of each other’s names filled the room. Each stroke, each touch forced them higher and higher. Elide could feel her toes curling, her thighs tightening. 

It slammed into her, forcing the air from her lungs in one last exclamation of Lorcan’s name. She came so hard her vision went white, and Elide shook, her legs clamping around his hips. She felt his thrusts stutter, his hands holding her tightly enough to bruise. 

“Ffffuck,” Lorcan moaned, his fingers digging into her indulgently. One of his hands moved to her peachy ass as they rocked together, slowly coming down from the high. 

Then, when they were done, they laid still, in complete silence save for soft pants. 

Beneath him, Elide started to shake. He cracked one eye open, promptly closing it when he saw her laughing. Lorcan grunted, not wanting to move yet. If they could stay like this for the rest of his life, Lorcan would die the happiest man on earth, he decided. Slowly, he managed to rouse himself enough to pull out of her and get up to dispose of the condom. 

He returned to her side, crawling in next to her and pulling the duvet over them. Lorcan draped a heavy arm over her waist to bring her closer. “Y’good?” he asked, eyes still closed. 

Elide brushed his hair back, gently scratching his scalp with her long nails. “Yes, Lorcan.” She allowed him to tug her even closer, his body curling around hers. “Are you good?”

Lorcan opened his eyes then. He gently cupped her jaw to kiss her again, deeply and with so much affection. “I’m good, Elide,” he whispered. “Better than good.”

She grinned, her eyes soft and half-lidded with satisfaction. “Me too.”

They wasted a little time kissing until she patted his chest. “Baby,” Elide whispered, “I should use the bathroom before I forget.” 

Lorcan rolled off of her. Luckily, he and Rowan had gotten one of the larger dorm rooms with an attached bathroom. He reclined against the pillows as Elide hurried off, snatching a spare t-shirt of his off his desk chair. She disappeared and gave him time to replay the night over in his mind. 

After a minute or so, someone softly cleared their throat, tearing him out of his daydreams.

Elide stood by the bathroom door, clad in his shirt. Her hair was messy from their romp and his wandering hands. 

He sucked in a breath, eyeing her from head to toe. 

She had looked stunningly gorgeous before, in her skirt and top, but there was something so indecent and arousing about her hair and bareness covered by a holey shirt. Elide looked at him, one brow raised. “Come and get me,” she teased, dropping her voice to this low, seductive tone, “you know you want to.”

Elide had never seen someone his size move so fluidly and with such speed. He had her bent over his shoulder before she could think. She shrieked, her laughter following them as he took her back to bed.

When he put her down, he did it carefully, gently.

Later, after they’d tired themselves out a third and fourth time, he draped himself over her, gathering her pliant body against his. “G’night, ‘lide,” he whispered, his words mashing together. 

She smiled, thinking back to the first time they’d met. “Sweet dreams, Lorcan.”

✵✵✵✵✵

an: enjoy my once a year sex scene and srry for my lil rowaelin h8r moment......I LUV THEM I DO.....also !! as a phil major who hates hates hates deductive logic (and also metaphysics is for LOSERS except i luv any and all christopher nolan movies 🫶🫶🫶🫶) i think elide would b rlly good at logic......anyher. hope u enjoyed !!

tag list (let me kno if u would like 2 b added): @sassyhobbits @empress-ofbloodshed @gwynethhberdara @the-regal-warrior @icecream52

#elorcan #elide x lorcan #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #nalgenewhore #isa writes #also also also i believe in rugby player supremacy i need 2 c more thickum men......i want to see it !

[acourtofcouture]

Modern AU x Rowan Whitethorn, 1/?

#throne of glass #crown of midnight #heir of fire #queen of shadows #empire of storms #tower of dawn #kingdom of ash #the assassin's blade #throne of glass series #modern au x throne of glass #modern au x tog #modern au x rowan whitethorn #rowan whitethorn #rowan #prince of doranelle #the cadre #king consort of terrasen #king of terrasen #terrasen #rowan x aelin #aelin x rowan #aelin #aelin galathynius #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin ashryver whitethorn galathynius #tog #erilea #sarah j maas #doranelle #rowan whitethorn galathynius

[leiawritesstories]

Just "Friends"

Rowaelin Month 2023, Day 4: Friends Don't Do This

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: some swearing

enjoy!!

@rowaelinscourt

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ever since Rowan Whitethorn moved into the apartment directly above hers, Aelin Galathynius had made it her goal to send the building’s management as many complaints as possible. He was too loud after hours. He was always moving around furniture. He entertained friends almost every weekend, and those people never stopped yelling and drinking. He painted the walls. 

That last one had resulted in a visit from the landlord and a very irritated Rowan pounding on Aelin’s door with a promise of retribution. 

But after a prank gone very, very wrong, they had settled into a casual sort of friendship, which eventually matured into a real friendship. 

Now, they were at each other’s apartments more than their own, and Aelin certainly wasn’t complaining. Rowan was a far better cook than she could ever dream of being, and in return, she had a better knack for interior decorating than he did. Fenrys had just about passed out from shock the first time he came over to Rowan’s to find the apartment actually set up for entertaining. He liked to joke that he’d never seen the furniture before, since he was always so busy tripping over it. 

Aelin headed up the stairs with her work tote slung over her shoulder, thinking only of the incredibly long, relaxing bath she was about to take. She checked her phone, scrolling through a whole workday’s worth of notifications, and noticed a text from Rowan from an hour ago. 

>>Your place tonight? Avoiding meddlesome parents. She cracked a tired smile. 

<<Only if you handle dinner. Brainpower is 100% drained. 

His reply pinged through in seconds. 

>>Deal.

She arrived at her apartment to find Rowan leaning against the doorframe, dressed in comfortable black sweatpants and a University of Wendlyn Hockey t-shirt. Through her end-of-the-workweek exhaustion, she only managed to nod at him as she unlocked the door. 

“Hey.” His hand came to rest comfortably on her lower back, offering support and comfort. “Long week?” 

“So long.” She kicked off her heels, dropped her bag on the floor, and pulled the clip from her twisted-up hair. “Gods, I need food. And probably a drink.” 

“I can help with that.” He shut the door behind them, ignoring the way his heartbeat sped up at the sight of Aelin with her hair unbound. “How does chicken Parmesan sound?” 

“Fucking fantastic,” she sighed. “Wait. Doesn’t that take a long time to make?” 

“Not if you prepped most of it earlier.” He looped one arm around her shoulders. “Go on, get comfortable, I’ll yell when it’s done.” 

“Someone wants to have another noise complaint filed against him.” A grin flashed across her face. “I’m going to take a bath.” She headed down to her bedroom and locked the door behind herself out of habit. Within minutes, her work clothes were tossed haphazardly onto the floor and the bathwater was running, filling the tub with steaming hot water and the herbal aroma of lavender bath salts. 

Aelin couldn’t hold back her quiet moan as she settled into the bath, feeling a week’s worth of stress and tension slowly seep out of her body the more she relaxed into the steaming, lavender-scented water. She closed her eyes and went through the steps of an exercise her therapist had given her years ago: see the thoughts, untangle the thoughts, and let the thoughts drift away until her mind was clear. By the time she’d cleared her mind of all the ridiculous bullshit she’d had thrown at her that week, the water had started to cool off, and Rowan was knocking at the bedroom door. 

“Aelin?” A brief pause. “Dinner’s ready, Galathynius.” 

“Out in a minute!” she called back, reluctantly opening the bathtub drain. Within a few minutes, she was dried off and dressed in her favorite sweatpants and sweatshirt set, fuzzy socks on her feet. She threw her hair into a loose braid and headed out into the kitchen, where she found freshly-cooked chicken Parmesan, pasta, a chopped vegetable salad, and a bottle of red wine. Her stomach grumbled. Loudly. 

Rowan laughed. “Hope it’s as good as it looks.” He pulled out her chair. “C’mon, Galathynius, don’t just stand there, it’s not gonna eat itself.” 

“Funny,” she deadpanned. She waited for him to take his set, poured both of them a generous glass of wine, and tucked into her dinner. “Oh my god,” she breathed. “This is incredible.” 

“Thanks.” He grinned at her. “Anything for my neighbor who can’t boil water.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Actually, I can boil water, I just prefer when other people do it for me.” 

After they were done eating, Aelin collected the plates, ignoring Rowan’s insistence that he help with cleanup. “Uh-uh, Whitethorn. You cooked, I’ll load the dishwasher.” 

“But–” 

“But nothing, you hovering buzzard. You can put away the leftovers, but you aren’t helping with the dishes.” She waved off his next protest. “I’m mature enough to keep my own kitchen clean. How about you find a show or something to watch?” 

“Fine,” he acceded. “I’m not picking one of your ridiculous reality shows, though!” 

“You know you love The Bachelor as much as I do!” she called back, teasingly. 

He grumbled, but when she strolled into the living room after the dishes were taken care of, he’d queued up an old season of Project Runway and tossed a few plush throw blankets onto the couch. The lights were dimmed. It was…shockingly perfect. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve been hanging out with me for too long,” Aelin drawled, settling herself on the couch with the blankets wrapped around her. 

Rowan snorted. “More like I know better than to try and put on a docuseries when you’ve had a shit week.” 

“How sweet,” she cooed. “There’s one thing you’re forgetting, though.” 

“What?” 

“C’mere.” She sat up, inviting him into the space behind her, and settled comfortably back against his warm, solid strength. He twined his arms around her middle, fixed the blankets so both of them were cozily cocooned, and let her tired body melt into him. 

“Anything else, Galathynius?” His tone was dry, but lighthearted. “Silk sheets? Room service?” 

“Just press play, you idiot,” she laughed, poking him halfheartedly in the chest. It didn’t hurt at all, since there were several layers of blankets (and clothes) between them. 

He chuckled and pressed play, and in minutes, both Aelin and Rowan were absorbed in the world of fashion design, bad ideas and terrible design choices and horrifically hilarious mishaps and all. Though he’d never admit it, part of him liked the shitty reality TV shows Aelin always watched when she needed to unwind. 

“Oh my gods,” Aelin groaned. “How the hell did they even let him near a sewing machine?” She muttered a few choice curses. “That poor model looks so uncomfortable.” 

Rowan mumbled in agreement, more caught up in the sensation of Aelin’s fingernails combing through his hair than anything happening on the TV, more concerned with the possibility of her realizing he’d shifted his hands to her back and her loose golden braid–a position that bordered on something far more intimate than friendship–and pulling away from his embrace. 

“You’re not even paying attention,” she teased, brushing her thumb across his cheekbone. 

“Um…yes?” A smile curled the corners of his lips at her soft little laugh. 

“Liar.” She turned her attention back to the show, where the designer she’d just castigated was running around in theatrical distress because his beloved creation had split right down the side, but kept her fingertips resting against his face, atop the ink that spiraled up his profile. 

He’d be lying if he said his attention didn’t hone in on that specific spot of contact. 

The episode ended–to Aelin’s delight, the designer she hated had to go home–and she turned her head to face him full-on, rambling about who she wanted to win the season. He barely heard any of it; he was too focused on the vivid sparkle in her eyes. 

“I keep forgetting you don’t watch these shows for fun,” she joked, stopping her breathless ramble before she could go into the designs. 

“But you do.” 

“So you tolerate it.” She traced the lines of his tattoo. 

He slid the tie from the end of her braid and trailed his hand through her silky hair. “I could get used to the overdone drama.” 

She snickered. “Rowan Whitethorn, you’re a–” 

“Oh my gods!” An entirely unexpected voice broke their cozy little bubble. Elide stood in the kitchen, her eyes almost as wide as her dropped jaw. 

In a flash, Aelin was up and rushing to her friend. “Ells! Wait–you don’t need to–I can–” She pulled Elide into her bedroom, shut the door, and prepared for the incoming storm. 

“What the hell?!” Elide shrieked. “You weren’t answering, so I used the emergency key, and I walk into your place to find you and Rowan Whitethorn on your couch, cuddling?!” She rubbed her eyes. “Gods, please tell me you weren’t–oh fuck no…” She trailed off, incredulous. 

Aelin was blushing bright red by that time. “NO!” she screeched, then lowered her voice to a whisper. “We were watching Project Runway! He’s literally just my friend, Ells!” 

“Friends,” Elide hissed, placing her hands on Aelin’s shoulders and staring directly into her eyes, “do not do what I just witnessed!” 

Aelin didn’t have anything to say about that. 

“Aelin.” As always, Elide was far too perceptive for her own good. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you and Rowan are just friends.” 

“Rowan and I are…” Aelin stopped. “I-I can’t tell you that, Ells.” She gulped, sudden uncertainty throwing her for a loop. “Oh gods, what if I say something and he leaves? I don’t know if I–” 

“He’s not going to leave.” Elide cut her off. “Here’s what’s going to happen. First, I’m going to leave, because you don’t need anyone else around for the next few hours. You’re going to go out there. You’re going to tell Rowan what just happened when he inevitably asks. And then you’ll be disgustingly in love for the rest of your lives and you can give me credit at your wedding.” She hugged Aelin briefly and tightly. “Go get the man who’s so hopelessly in love with you that he watches your shitty TV shows.” Blowing her a kiss, Elide left. 

Aelin blew out a shaky sigh and headed out into the living room, tentatively crossing to where Rowan was frozen on the couch. His eyes locked onto her as she padded across the hardwood floor and stopped in front of him, unsure whether to sit back down or stay there. 

“Hey,” he said softly, breaking the silence. “That was…uh…unexpected?” 

“And then some,” she added. A thousand emotions flickered across her face. “Rowan, I–”

“I need to–”

They spoke at the same time. 

He stopped. “You go ahead.” 

“Are we just friends?” she blurted. “Because…because I don’t want to be just friends.” 

“I don’t want to be just friends either.” His voice was a bare whisper, but it thrummed with conviction. “I’m in love with you, Aelin Galathynius.” 

She cracked a quivering smile. “That was fast.” 

He looped his arms around her waist and tugged her down into his lap. “I guess it took me long enough to admit it to myself, and once it was out there, I didn’t want to waste any more time.” 

“Oh, Rowan,” she whispered, wonder filling her tone, “I might be in love with you, too.”

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@chronicchthonic14

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

#my writing #rowaelin month #rowaelin month 2023 #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfic #rowaelin #aelin galahthynius #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin au #modern au #pranksters to idiots to friends to lovers

[punkassbookjockey26]

exile - Rowaelin Month, Day 1

Buckle up, everyone. This one's a doozie. I'm sorry in advance.

Prompt: Songfic - based on the song "exile" by Taylor Swift

Rating: T, Warnings: some language, references to a toxic relationship

-----------------------------------------

It was past 9 pm by the time she showed up. He had been there with friends, nursing a beer that now ran warm and tasted stale. His little cadre greeted the newcomers warmly, if a bit delicately, knowing that the sight of her new friend would put him on edge. He didn’t try to hide that his muscles tensed, his whole frame rigid at the pitying glances cast his way. It was his choice to be here, and he knew full well what that meant. He downed the rest of the beer and signaled the bartender for another drink, this one much more potent. He would need it if he were to survive the night.

A loud laugh echoed over the conversation, and even to his ears, it sounded forced, like the joke wasn’t even that funny, but she laughed because it was what good friends did. Rowan didn’t turn to look at her, knowing full well that those damn turquoise eyes of hers would be darting between the lumbering brute beside her and towards him. He refused to give her that satisfaction when she was the one that left him broken.

Their relationship had always been volatile, both of them stubborn to a fault. She had been a fire that had grown out of control – beautiful to observe but deadly and unpredictable. And he had been like ice, so thick that even her flame couldn’t penetrate. Rowan had tried to figure her out, but they were both guarded and keeping secrets from the other. She had been carrying previous hurts but never shared any of it with him. And as much as he wanted to confide in her about his own, it felt impossible. There was too much damage, too many open wounds to really be capable of exposing himself like that.

So instead, they argued. They lashed out when pressed too hard, calling each other terrible and toxic things. Their friends wondered whether the relationship was even worth salvaging, but he had always believed so. She was unlike any other woman he had ever known, and despite the barbs they had thrown at each other and the nastiness and animosity that bubbled between them, he still wanted her. Desperately.

But she had left. She said nothing after their last fight when he told her that there was nothing else he could give her, nothing that he wanted to give her. That she was nothing but a problem for him, and he did not care. She looked at him like he had just struck her, eyes wide and mouth parted in surprise and hurt, and he wanted so much to take those words and put them back into his mouth, never to be known. But they were laid at her feet, broken like their relationship, broken like his soul,  and she just turned and walked away. It took her five whole minutes to pack up the few belongings she had left at his apartment and walk out the door, leaving him standing there holding the pieces of a relationship he didn’t know how to fix.

That had been weeks ago. He was unsure how many because he had barely ventured out of his apartment since that night. He knew he needed to apologize to her, but she just…left. He had tried calling and texting her, but was met with silence. So he let her go, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop her. Knowing that she was taking what little he had given her of his heart with her. Her perfume lingered in the apartment; that sweet floral and citrus scent permeated the clothing she stole and the pillows she used. It taunted him; he wanted to bottle that smell and save it for his lowest moments,  but that had vanished from his life all too soon as well.

He didn’t want to admit that some part of him was masochistically looking forward to tonight. He knew she would be coming; it was her cousin’s party, after all. He wanted to see her. Wanted to see if she had been just as miserable without him as he had been without her. He wanted to know if she regretted the decision that led them to this moment in time, if she regretted him, because then, maybe, he might be able to find some closure.

He hadn’t expected her to show up with someone new.

Glancing surreptitiously towards the group, he finally took his first real look at her in weeks. Her golden hair was tied high in a ponytail, the ends curled softly at the nape of her neck. Whether it was because of the drink in her hand or the warmth of the venue, her cheeks had a rosy flush.  Rowan’s eyes trailed down her long neck, following the line to her shoulder, her chest, her toned stomach, her legs, drinking in the portrait she was making just for him.

To anyone who didn’t know her, she appeared to be the epitome of engagement. She was leaning into a tall, brown-haired man with his arm slung around her shoulders, a gentle smile on her face. Every fiery quip she interjected into the conversation, he loved. But he could tell that it was all a ruse.

The smile on her face did not reach her eyes. Those beautiful eyes of hers had sparkled with mischief and love but now were flat and dull. Her shoulders were tense under that man’s arm, almost as if the contact were only allowed instead of wanted. Every laugh was forced, every flirtatious glance was cold and unfeeling. He knew that even though she was here physically with this interloper, her mind was elsewhere.

So when she disengaged and made her way towards the back exit, he knew that it was his moment to finally close whatever door remained open to her in his heart. He quickly downed the shot the bartender had placed before him and followed her into the brisk night.

His eyes adjusted to the dark alleyway, darting around, looking for a glimmer of gold under the streetlamps. He found her standing just at the edge of the alley, leaning up against the brick exterior of the building, her slender arms wrapped tightly around her torso. She didn’t even look up at him when he shuffled down the alleyway, even though he hadn’t tried to make his approach quiet, but he saw the telltale sign that she was readying for a fight.

“What do you want, Rowan?” Her venomous voice lanced out at him, digging right into his chest. He figured she would be upset, but he was unprepared for just how vicious she would be. Every word dripped with disdain, and he choked back the familiar feeling of anger. He just wanted to talk to her, dammit, not get into another screaming match in the middle of the alley. But when he opened his mouth, the speech he had prepared stalled on his tongue.

Instead, he asked. “Are you together?”

She turned to face him finally, a sardonic smile twisting her mouth. “Why? Would you fight him if I said yes? Would you go bloody up your knuckles on his face?”

He clenched his jaw. “It’s a yes or no question, Aelin.”

Her eyes narrowed at him. “It doesn’t matter if I am or not. I’m not your problem anymore.”

She spat the words back just as harshly as he had given them to her. He flinched and could have sworn he saw her soften before that hard exterior snapped back into place. Moments stretched thin between them as they locked eyes, his frozen green ones matched perfectly with the flames sparking to life in hers. It was proof enough that the man inside was just his understudy, only temporarily filling a spot that he had vacated. That she still felt so much for him.

After a beat, he said to her, “You didn’t even hear me out.”

A defeated chuckle escaped her lips. Just like her laughter inside, there was no warmth to it, no joy. It had the same hollowness to it when it clanged through his head. “What for, Rowan? I gave you so many signs that I was bowing out, and what you said that night sealed the deal.”

Indignation flared again. “What are you talking about? You never gave me any signs.”

She rolled her eyes, the petulance hitting something ugly inside of him. “There were so many signs, Rowan. You never once opened up to me, not even when I pushed. Instead, you doubled down, pushed me away, and threw my flaws and mistakes at me in the worst way possible. I gave you a hundred chances to change, but you never did.”

He tried to choke back the anger in his throat, but it was desperate to lash back out. “I can’t read your damn mind, Aelin! If you wanted something to change, you should have said something. You just left.”

“I tried to say something, Rowan!” She cried. “I tried so many times to reason with you. I wanted to know you, to trust you, to love you, more than anything. I tried to let you open up on your own terms. I tried to let you in, but you just shut down each and every time. So no, I did not leave you. You left me before I ever walked out of that door. You left me before you even gave us a single godsdamned chance.”

Her voice cracked, and he saw a tear glimmer in the moonlight as it slid down her face. He felt himself deflate at the sight of it, knowing it was because of him. If he were being truly honest with himself, that was all she ever seemed to do around him. The ugly truth he had tried to avoid roared to life, and he knew that for all their flaws and problems, the failure of this relationship landed squarely on his shoulders. He had fucked up immeasurably.

“I’ve seen this movie before, Rowan. I didn’t like the ending, so I changed it.”

He watched as she furiously swiped away the tear in the silence and glared at him, daring him to say anything. And when he didn’t, she turned and walked away from him, her heels clacking angrily on the concrete. At that moment, he knew there would be no salvaging their relationship. He put his heart in exile, and that was where it would remain.

-----------------------------------------

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#rowaelin #rowaelin month #rowaelin court #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #aelin and rowan #aelin x rowan #modern au #songfic #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #tog #fanfic #fanfiction #pabj26writing

[theladyofdeath]

Rowaelin, public sex?😄

Has anyone else watched Sex/Life on Netflix? Felt the need to rewatch a few scenes when I saw this prompt…lmao Enjoy!

**NSFW 18+ only

Aelin knew she was a sloppy drunk, but Rowan was so much sloppier. For a man that was typically quiet and reserved, his inner chaos came out when pumped with alcohol. He swore like a sailor and got extremely handsy, which were surprisingly two things Aelin thought looked good on her fiancé.

He was her favorite kind of drunk.

They hadn’t been to the club in a few months and the thrill of a night out fueled all of Aelin’s desires. That, and the hands that fell from her hips to her thighs, fingering the hem of her dress. Her back was pressed up against Rowan, her hands tossed behind her, one in the air, the other around his neck.

She wore a golden dress, the one that made his eyes go dark and linger. It hugged her perfectly, putting her assets on full display. As his hands dangerously roamed her body on the dance floor, she knew that dress remained his favorite.

They’d just had yet another drink and now Aelin was getting hot, sweat starting to coat her skin. There were too many people around them, too much alcohol in her system, and Rowan pressed up against her backside, his body heat pushing her over the edge.

She was going to turn around, was going to ask if he wanted to step outside for a minute to dwell in the cool night air, but then his mouth was on her neck. Her eyes closed as her head fell back against his shoulder while his tongue swept over the tender skin. His thumb swept up under the hem of her dress as his fingers dug into her thigh.

They continued to sway to the music as he kissed and nipped and licked and sucked at her neck. She would surely have a splotchy bruise there in the morning that their friends would make fun of when they met for brunch, but she didn’t care. The sensation was too good, too mesmerizing for her to care.

The thumb beneath her dress pushed the fabric up higher and her ass was threatening to be revealed. The hand that was resting on Aelin’s abdomen moved further south until it was hovering over very private territory. As if it came naturally to him, which at this point in their relationship it surely did, a finger pressed against the sensitive bundle of nerves and circled once, twice. Even through the layers of fabric, it pulled a gasp from her lips.

“Ro,” she breathed, and he hummed, lips still on her neck, his hands exploring. “I need you inside of me.”

His hands and lips stilled but only for a moment before he was taking her hand and pulling her through the throng of people. For every one of his long strides, Aelin was moving double, giggling at his urgency.

He led her down the hall past the bar before stopping in front of the women’s restroom door. He looked to Aelin. He didn’t even have to ask, but she knew he didn’t want to scare anyone by bursting in. She opened the door and peeked inside before grabbing him by his collar and pulling him in.

The second the door began to close behind them, his mouth was on hers.

They could still hear the music, and although it wasn’t as loud it still practically shook the walls. Rowan lifted Aelin up and held onto her ass as her legs wrapped around his waist. His tongue found hers and he moaned, quietly.

After setting her on the sink, her legs still wrapped around his waist, Rowan’s hands began roaming yet again. They swept up her sides and palmed her breasts, and Aelin’s lips curved up against his. She held onto his waist as his hips slowly ground into hers.

He wasn’t close enough, she decided, the need between her thighs growing with every touch and kiss. She reached between them and undid his belt, the button of his jeans, the zipper. She tugged them down just enough, then did the same with his boxer briefs, until she could pull him out. As her delicate hand gripped his hardened cock, he swore, low and filthy, before yanking down the straps of her dress, leaving it a pool around her waist.

He leaned back just to admire her bare breasts in the dim light of the restroom, but his eyes trailed lower to where he rested in her hand. She stroked him before grabbing him with both hands and pumping him, slowly, just once. A guttural growl formed in the back of his throat.

Her hands left him and he was about to protest until she reached between her legs and moved aside the thin lace fabric of her thong, revealing her wet, throbbing pussy to him.

When his lingering eyes finally met hers, she gave him one simple demand. “Fuck me.”

The words had barely left her mouth before he had thrust into her, to the hilt, with one quick snap of his hips. He pounded into her relentlessly as he took her face into his hands and captured her in a searing kiss. She moaned into his mouth, his tongue practically down her throat as her arms went around his neck and her hands went into his hair.

The door to the restroom was pushed open and Rowan lifted Aelin up, carrying her into the nearest stall. Those deep thrusts never stopped, not as he locked the door behind them and pressed her up against it. It shook with every push and pull but held. He started to move faster, manically, and their kiss broke only for Aelin to curse the gods. His nails dug into her ass where he held her up, and as Aelin’s head fell back against the stall door, Rowan’s mouth found that damned spot on her neck again and bit down.

Aelin cried out as the restroom door opened and closed. She didn’t know if it was someone coming or going but she didn’t care.

Let everyone hear how magnificently and generously her fiancé fucked her.

And that’s just what he did, fucked her wildly, fiercely, ruthlessly until her knees were shaking and she was screaming his name.

His head snapped up and he met her lust-filled gaze as he rested his forehead against hers and he breathed, “Cum for me, Fireheart.”

“Fuck,” she hissed, and let herself go. She clung to him as pure release found her and he watched every second of it, watched every emotion that flickered across her beautiful face as her eyes rolled back and she clenched and spilled around him. The jeans hanging low on his hips grew wet with her release and he savored it.

His own climax built within his core and Aelin kissed along his jaw, those little moans of hers continuing as his movements became convulsive and uneven. He moaned and Aelin loved it when he moaned. Rowan was not a vocal lover, not until he came, not unless he was cursing filthy prayers while he ravaged her. But when he came, he moaned, and it set Aelin’s soul on fire. He moaned with every last thrust of his hips until he stilled inside of her.

His body went limp as his forehead fell against her shoulder but his hands on her ass remained strong and steady.

She ran her fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp as they caught their breaths. A moment later he hummed in pure blissful satisfaction and Aelin laughed quietly.

He pulled back and smiled, eyes bright and glazed as he kissed her softly. “You’re wild,” he muttered, and this time her laughter was louder.

“I’m wild?” She repeated, nipping lovingly at his bottom lip. “You’re wild.”

“Only when I’m drunk,” he muttered, and gave her another kiss. She would never grow tired of those little stolen kisses. “You made me drunk.”

Aelin rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I poured all that liquor right down your throat, didn’t I?”

“Mhmm,” he agreed, and smiled before he slowly pulled himself out of her. The mix of their releases trailed down her thighs and Rowan shoved himself back into his jeans before opening the stall door and announcing, “Coast is clear.”

Aelin followed him out and Rowan, the drunken gentleman he was, cleaned her up with a wet paper towel before helping her readjust her dress.

Although their clothes appeared as they had before, it was perfectly clear what they’d been doing. That bruise was appearing on Aelin’s throat and her makeup was smudged, her hair a wild mess. Not as messy as Rowan’s, whose silver locks were sticking up in every which direction no matter how many times he tried to smooth it down. Their lips were swollen and their bodies were relaxed for the first time that night since that first dance beneath the flashing lights.

Which is exactly where they ended up, dancing the night away until Aelin had to drag Rowan’s drunk ass back home. They’d barely made it into the cab before his hands were on her, once again.

#aelin x rowan #rowan x aelin #rowaelin #tog #throne of glass #fanficfion #fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot #drabble #smutty #modern au #daddy rowan #rowan whitethorn #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin #aelin galathynius #answered prompts #asks #prompts #tara answers prompts

[cuquitalocita]

...oops |rowaelin month- day 5|

rowaelin masterlist

an: i had a dream about this and i kind of hate the ending buttt enjoy! :)

word count: 3,988

~~

“You did what?” 

It wouldn’t take a genius to note that twenty one year- old Princess Aelin Ashryver Galathynius was fuming. And it would have been to no one’s surprise if the princess herself brought the very palace down in flames herself in a matter of moments. 

The Queen of Terrasen sighed and with a small shake of her head, daintily placed her teacup on the table in front of her. With her hands crossed in her lap, she turned her blue gaze to her daughter’s twin one, this one holding a fire many would cower from despite the girl’s young age. But it seemed that Evalin Ashryver feared no one but the gods, and she faced her daughter’s seeth head-on. 

“Fireheart-” 

“An arranged marriage? I wasn’t aware I was a doll who’s life you can just play with. Is this top okay or would you like to change me into a new pretty dress?”

Evalin merely rolled her eyes at her only daughter, allowing her to rant and fume as she pleased for what seemed like hours before the princess finally collapsed into the chair beside her, blue in the face and a vein popping out of her forehead. 

“Fireheart,” she began again, this time gentler. “You have to understand, your father and I are simply doing what we believe is best for the country. For our people.”

“By selling me away? I’m not a child anymore mother, and I can make my own decisions just fine.” The anger had vanished, now replaced by a look of utter despair in the princess’ eyes as she gazed at her mother, an attempt to delay what she knew was inevitable.

“We know that Aelin, of course we do, and we would never do anything to purposefully hurt you. Terrasen is… is struggling right now, my love. You may be our only hope.” 

The look in her mother’s eyes settled something in her chest and she realized there would be no fighting this- although she most certainly would try. Her parents were set on an arranged marriage for the Princess of Terrasen. 

And as she stormed through the door of her chambers, Aelin’s thoughts settled on one in particular.

The Prince of Doranelle better be handsome.

~~

The Wild Princess of Terrasen, they called her.

Well- Aelin thought as she gunned the Corvette through the streets of the capital- if they wanted a wild princess, a wild princess is what they would get. 

She remembered a time where her mother had rolled her eyes when her daughter had told her she wanted a Corvette for her sixteenth birthday. She didn’t even have a license, and she would never be driving herself, so what good would it do?

Aelin smirked. Apparently they were perfect for fits of rage. 

She vaguely remembered a few lessons Brullo had given her when she had managed to bribe the grumpy body guard with cookies enough for him to teach her how to drive- unbeknownst to her mother, of course. Aelin bet that Evalin Ashryver would just about have a heart attack if she knew her daughter could drive.

Aelin swerved into the left lane without her turn signal, earning an angry honk and a few unkind words from the car behind her.

Well- sort of knew how to drive. 

Oops, she thought. From then on, she turned her speed down just a bit. 

As Aelin careened through the streets of Terrasen, she realized that as a princess, she truly had been deprived of her own country. Sure, she had been escorted through the streets during the annual parade, and her father used to take her to Malakai’s for her favorite cake every once in a while, but the streets she drove through now were unknown to her. 

She passed jogging college kids and mothers with strollers and toddlers, couples holding hands and homeless people that scattered some of the streets. The sight made her heart clench and her knuckles turn white on the steering wheel. 

Aelin was so focused on the people around her, she forgot to look forward as she drove through a glaring red light. Luckily there were barely any other cars around her, and the only indication that she had done something wrong came from a distinctly aggravated male voice screaming, “What the fu-”

“Shit!” 

Aelin slammed her foot down on the breaks as her gaze came into contact with a man in front of her- she was going full speed towards him as she tried crossing the cross walk. The car came to a screeching halt directly in front of him, but the momentum proved to be too much as the Corvette did in fact make contact with him.

She thought time slowed down as the man went shooting to the ground with a groan of pain. 

Yes, she had just hit a man with her car.

But her mother was going to absolute assassinate her. 

Another loud groan from outside the window had Aelin shoving the car into park and flying out to the man in front of her, heart in her throat. 

As she took in the man, she wondered what the odds were of hitting a person with your car and having them be one of the most attractive people you’ve ever seen. Pretty low, Aelin would think, but like everything else in her life, statistics did not seem to be on her side.

The man was clearly young, maybe a few years older than her, and even though he wore a thick winter jacket to protect him from the Terrasen winter, he was clearly built like a greek god. With silver hair almost matching the snow around him and tan skin that signaled to Aelin he clearly wasn’t from around here, the man could have been on the front page of any popular magazine. 

“Fuck!” 

Aelin kneeled down beside the man who was thankfully still conscious, face scrunched up in pain and clear anger. It made him look older, she thought as she finally looked at his eyes. They were a stunning green. She wanted to hit herself with her car. Of course they were. 

“A-are you okay?” She helped him up, placing a hand on his lower back and pushing him up until he sat forward enough until he could support himself.

The man glared at her, teeth clenched in pain as his gaze burned into her own.

“Are you crazy?” he growled, his voice even deeper than Aelin thought it would have been. “Am I okay? You just hit me with your fucking car!” 

Aelin jerked her hand away from him, suddenly defensive. “Look, I am so sorry. I- I wasn’t looking where I was driving and-”

The man scoffed. “Obviously.” 

Aelin saw red. 

“Well what the fuck were you doing on a crosswalk two seconds before the light turned red? You had plenty of time to move out of the way and you’re blaming me because you couldn’t look around?” 

It was moments like these where Aelin realized why Elide’s fiancee liked to call her ‘fire breathing bitch queen.’ Sure, she could acknowledge it. She had just hit the guy with her car, and Aelin had foung a way to blame him. 

“Maybe if you had been less careless about crashing Daddy’s car you would have been a bit more careful and we wouldn’t be here right now, Princess.” 

Aelin almost slapped him, if not for the derogatory way her title slipped through his tongue. And that was when she realized that he had no idea who she was. The man in front of her didn’t look like an idiot. He wouldn’t be insulting her if he knew who she was. And Aelin realized she didn’t want him to know. Not as the words that spilled through her lips could ruin her entire legacy.

“Watch it.” The words were low and dangerous, and something flashed in the man’s eyes that signaled to her than he had caught the anger lacing her tone. “You don’t know shit about me.”

“I don’t think I need to. Nor do I care enough to want to.”

“Well you’re clearly fine, if you can spew ridiculous insults out of your head at the drop of a dime,” Aelin deadpanned. “So, can we wrap this up?” 

“Gladly.” He made to get up, placing his weight on his arm as he pushed himself upward, cutting off with a loud gasp of pain before sinking back to the ground, his green eyes alight with agony. The sight made a pang shoot through Aelin’s chest and she grabbed his arm to steady him before his momentum his head careening toward the ground. 

“Shit, we need to take you to the hospital.” She rose, already on her way back to the car.

“No way am I going anywhere with you.” 

“That’s fine.” Aelin’s smile was purely saccharine. “You can stay here if you’d like. It’s supposed to drop to -10 in a few hours when the sun goes down but you look pretty toasty to me. Of course, your fingers will fall off before the ambulance gets here, so it’s really give or take.”

The man growled and rubbed a large hand through his hair.

“So what do you say, Superman?” Aelin gestured to the car behind her. “What’s the worst that can happen? I already hit you with my car today.” 

If the tone of his voice was any indication, the man was in enough pain to barely put up a fight.

“Fine. But get into another accident and I’m calling the police.”

Aelin almost laughed. Little did he know that she owned the police.

It was only during the awkwardly silent drive to the hospital that Aelin realized the workers at the hospital would recognize her, and then the man beside her would. The thought put a sour taste in Aelin’s mouth. She liked fighting with this man- liked the fact that he treated her with the same amount of respect he would anyone who hit him with their car. Even if he was an infuriating prick of a man. 

“Alright,” she pulled the car into park. “Here we are.” The man grunted in acknowledgment.

Surprisingly enough, the ER was close to empty on the Thursday evening and Aelin was grateful that it meant fewer people would recognize her. Who knew how the paparazzi would react if they saw their crown princess in the ER with an unknown man. 

As if her ‘issues’ weren’t plastered in the tabloids enough already. 

Aelin hadn’t realized how tall the man was until he was standing solidly behind her at the check-in desk. He was close enough that she could feel him at her back and she swore her shoulder had bumped below his own. Gods, he was strong.

She shook her head, clearing her thoughts, and turned to the man at the desk. 

“Hi um, I’m here to check in a patient.” If the way the man swallowed was any indication, said patient was glaring daggers from beside her. He turned to the monitor in front of him and began typing something into the computer.

“And, what’s the reason for your visit today?”

Aelin cleared her throat. “Just- just a checkup. He had a bit of a fall, we just wanted to make sure everything is okay.” She felt what must have been a scoff from behind her but ignored it. The man nodded without looking at her or stopping his typing.

“Okay,” he finally said after a few moments of silence. He handed a clipboard to Aelin holding a few pieces of obvious paperwork. “Fill this out and give it back to me when you’re done. It’s a slow day so you should be able to meet with the doctor in just a second.” Aelin nodded, thanking the man and making her way to the empty seats across the desk, dragging her silver-haired friend with her until he collapsed into the seat beside her with a huff. 

She ignored him in favor of flicking through the paperwork as casually as she could, attempting to not draw attention to the fact that she clearly knew none of the personal information about the man beside her.

Aelin leaned close to him and almost rolled her eyes when he leaned significantly away.

“Hey,” she whispered. She watched as he rolled his eyes.

“What?”

“What’s your name?” he leveled her with a confused look and she held up the paperwork. But really, what kind of an idiot hit someone with their car and didn’t ask for their name. Aelin was such an idiot. Such an-

“Rowan.”

“What?”

“My name. It’s Rowan.” She raised a brow,

“Rowan…?”

“Whitethorn.” Rowan Whitethorn. The name sent a pang of familiarity through her and Aelin struggled to ruffle through her mind to find where she had heard it before. 

“What do you do for work?” The question was out of her mouth before she could berate herself for how stupid it was. His eyebrows shot up to the top of his head.

“Is that on the form?” his voice was defensive but Aelin shrugged nonetheless and Rowan sighed before running a hand through his hair. “Let’s say I’m involved with politics.” 

Aelin grimaced. Maybe that was why her mind had blocked out his name. Anyone involved with any kind of politics was automatically dislikeable in Aelin’s eyes. She had been around enough politicians to recognize their slimy exterior. 

Rowan clearly noticed her face and scowled at her. “Well not all of us have a choice in our future just because we’re young and irresponsible.” Like you, was what he didn’t have to say. Aelin wanted to kick him. If only he knew. Instead, she rolled her eyes and looked back at the sheet in front of her.

“Date of birth?”

“December 8, 1995.” Aelin almost dropped her pencil but instead turned to Rowan, surprised to find him already looking at her.

“Seriously? You’re twenty- five?”

“What’s your point?”

“All of the high and mighty, ‘I’m your elder’ attitude and you’re only four years older than me.” She shook her head and turned back to the form, ignoring the glare she could feel burning into her skull and trying her best not to think about how good Rowan smelled from beside her. She never would have thought that the scent of pine could be so intoxicating. 

“Place of birth?”

“Doranelle.” Aelin wondered if he knew anything of the infamous prince she was to marry. She really should have done some more research before storming out of the palace. 

“Height?”

“6’ 4”.” 

“Any allergies?”

“Blondes.” Aelin ignored that one. 

“Any family history of fatal medical issues?”

“No.”

“Type and reason for pain?” 

“An irritation in my head from the woman beside me.” 

Aelin threw her pen at him and watched as he winced before looking at her with wide annoyed eyes. But she frankly didn’t give a fuck anymore. She could have let him freeze to death outside and here he was complaining about her.

“You know, this whole thing would be a lot easier if you weren’t such a prick.”

“Actually this whole thing would be a lot easier if you hadn’t-”

Rowan was cut off by the clearing of a throat in front of them, signaling someone had come through the door. The two had been too preoccupied with one another to even notice the doctor standing in front of them. 

She’s beautiful, with cinnamon skin and curly hair, and she wears an amused smile on her face as she looks between the two. Aelin and Rowan automatically calm themselves into an acceptable demeanor and Aelin stands to shake hands with the doctor in front of them, handing her the unfinished paperwork.

“Alright, Mr… Whitethorn. I’m Doctor Towers and I’ll be helping you out here today. Why don’t you come back here with me and we can check you out.” Rowan stood up to follow her out of the room before Doctor Towers turned back to look at Aelin. “You can come too, Mrs. Whitethorn. We’ll probably need you to clear a few things up.”

Aelin hated the blush that sprang to her cheeks at the implication that she could be married to Rowan, and she almost laughed. As if she could ever marry someone like him. Their protests are cut off by the creaking of the door and neither Aelin nor Rowan bothers to correct the doctor as she leads them to a section of the hospital filled with open hospital beds and shitty curtains for ‘privacy.’

Pulling one shut, Doctor Towers gestures for Rowan to sit on the bed. Once he does, she leans back on her heels and pulls out her own clipboard. 

“Okay, what seems to be the problem today?”

They’re silent for a moment, both looking at each other with wide eyes, not knowing what to say. Eventually, Aelin clears her throat. 

“Um, we had a bit of an accident-”

“I would hardly call it an ‘accident.’ She-”

“He decided to walk through a crosswalk during a green light and-”

“You hit me with your car!” 

It seemed the entire hospital went silent for a moment before sound resumed once more and Aelin allowed her head to fall into her hands.

“It wasn’t like that. I-”

“You slammed straight into me!”

“I barely knicked you!” 

Doctor Towers had been watching the sparring match between the two with wide eyes, clearly still hung up on the fact that he had been hit by a car and was still alive. It took a moment before she shook her head and scribbled a few things down on her piece of paper. 

“I hate to ask this,” she cleared her throat. “Was this- um, a crime of passion?”

Aelin and Rowan stared at her blankly before turning to each other, both confused. She tried again.

“I mean- when a wife hits her husband with a car-” Realizing what she was implying, Aelin and Rowan were quick with their rebuttals. 

“She’s not-”

“I’m not his wife!”

“Most definitely not-”

“As if I’d ever marry this prick-”

“I would rather hit myself with a car than voluntarily pledge myself to her.” 

Aelin rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in front of her defensively. “Now that’s a little dramatic.” 

“Well, you did hit me with a car.” If Aelin didn’t know any better, she would say that it almost looked like amusement twisted his lips. 

“You’re never gonna get over that, are you?” 

“Not likely.” 

Doctor Towers cleared her throat from beside them, causing the two to snap their gazes back to her. Whatever they found there had them shut their mouths like scolded children.

“So…” she arched a brow. “It was an accident?”

Rowan nodded while Aelin muttered, “Unfortunately.” 

Doctor Towers ignored the comment in favor of looking at Aelin closely. She watched in despair as it clicked in her head who exactly was standing in front of her and Aelin found herself holding her breath. But surprisingly enough, the doctor said nothing, simply turning to Rowan with a knowing look.

“So Mr. Whitethorn, what hurts?”

“Besides everything?” Rowan grimaced as he circled his shoulder. “Mostly my shoulder. I don’t know if I pulled it today specifically, but it’s been bothering me for a while. I think today just aggravated it.” 

“It could be a stress fracture,” she mused. “Has anything happened recently in your life that could have caused your anxiety and stress levels to shoot up? It could be anything really from, an increase in work to a big change or big news…”

Rowan let out what Aelin assumed was some sort of laugh. She ignored the shiver it sent down her spine.

“You could say that.” 

Doctor Towers didn’t press for more information, merely nodded and wrote something down before looking at Rowan again.

“The only solution I can really offer you right now is to ice it as often as you can for about eight to ten weeks, and it should heal on its own. No cast necessary.”

“Really?” Aelin exclaimed, unable to hold back the relief in her voice. Maybe her mother wouldn’t kill her after all. “That’s great.” 

“It is,” Doctor Towers gazed at her through a knowing smile and narrowed eyes. “Just try not to hit people with your car anymore Pr-, ma’am.” Aelin almost laughed at the comment, even more at the mistake she had almost made, but instead nodded with a small smile.

“I’ll see what I can do.” 

Turning to Rowan, Aelin found him already watching her, a strange look on his face as he gazed between the two women. He opened his mouth to speak when the door to the ER burst open, and the Queen herself strutted through.

Aelin thought that if a look could set a flame, she would be ashes by now. 

She felt herself pale as her mother walked toward her on near-silent footsteps, leaving citizens bowing in her wake. But the Queen only had eyes for her daughter. Very angry eyes. 

“Aelin Ashryver Galathynius,” she hissed, and Aelin tried not to cringe. “You are in so much trouble young lady.” Aelin opened her mouth to defend herself. “Sneaking out, close to Yulemas in fact, when crime rates are highest, stealing a car-”

“It’s not stealing if it’s mine-” Her mouth snapped shut at the look her mother gave her. 

“You’ll come to learn Aelin, that as future queen of this country, you have a status to uphold. You have an image- a reputation, one that should not include sneaking out of the palace unsupervised and ending up in the ER.” 

She felt the words like a stab to the heart. Aelin knew the last thing her mother wanted to do was hurt her, especially with her words. But Aelin felt the truth of them to the bottom of her toes, and she was swept into a tidal wave of disappointment in herself. No wonder her parents wanted to marry her off. Of course she couldn’t lead a country on her own.

“Mother, I’m sorry I snuck out. I was just so upset with you. And do you think I meant to end up in the ER? I hit him with my car for Gods sake! I couldn’t just-”

“You’re the princess?” 

The surprisingly choked voice came from Rowan, and the two pairs of Ashryver eyes snapped to him in a millisecond. Rowan was looking at Aelin like he had never seen her before, and she frowned at him in confusion. Maybe he hadn’t met a princess before, but this was hardly how she thought he would react. It was as if he was going to be sick.

From beside her, Evalin let out a strangled laugh and Aelin gazed at her mother incredulously. From beside her, Aelin’s mother burst into peals of laughter. 

“Well, this is quite the situation, isn’t it?” she laughed. It was a moment before she composed herself and turned to Rowan.  “Rowan Whitethorn. I suppose introductions aren’t necessary.” 

Rowan was bowing, green eyes hard as they met Aelin’s and stayed there, even as he addressed her mother. “Your majesty. Allow me to express my gratitude for welcoming me into your country.” 

“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” Evalin insisted, still smiling as if she couldn’t believe what was happening. “You’re practically family, after all.” 

And that was when it hit her.

Let’s just say I’m involved with politics.

Doranelle.

Recent stressful news.

His name. 

Rowan’s eyes were on hers as the realization struck that Aelin not only fell into the statistics of people who hit attractive strangers with their car but also happened to hit members of royalty.

No- Aelin thought as she gaped at her betrothed- she most definitely did not fall in favor of most statistics. But they had fallen with her on one account.

The Prince of Doranelle was handsome. 

~~

this prompt was: “i accidentally hit you with my car”

taglist:

@story-scribbler​

@rowaelinismyotp​

@live-the-fangirl-life​

@claralady​

@surielandiareendgame​

#aelin galythinius #rowan whitethorn #aelin #rowan #aelin x rowan #rowan x aelin #rowaelin #rowaelin fic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin au #rowaelin modern au #tog sjm #throne of glass #rowaelin month

[highqueenofelfhame]

the first red light - part one

hello babies! here is a little new shenanigan i've been working on. initially, it was going to be a one shot but i feel like a multi-parter fits it. this will at most be like four parts, i think. either way, i hope you enjoy!

rowaelin // 2.4k words // masterlist // ko-fi

May

For reasons unbeknownst to him, Rowan Whitethorn had been watching Aelin Galathynius all night.

They had never been very close; all of their hangouts included their entire friend group. The two had never been alone for more than a handful of minutes, and their conversations usually leaned more toward bickering than anything else. They did, however, have a tendency to meet each other’s eyes across the table when someone said something particularly stupid, resulting in the two of them hiding secret smiles into their cocktails or behind their hands. It was one end or the other with them: vague annoyance by the other’s presence or secret jokes meant only for them. 

Aelin had been a wildfire when they first met. The energy she radiated seemed to glow and was contagious to everyone in her vicinity. Even if you didn’t like Aelin Galathynius, you couldn’t deny the pull toward her. Rowan could speak on this from personal experience. In the beginning, he had found her boisterous personality irritating, yet he would find himself stifling laughter at her jokes or watching her dance from across the room. 

It didn’t matter if she wanted it; the woman was almost always the center of attention. It was always Aelin dancing on the bar and pulling Lysandra up next to her or Aelin smothering Elide in New Year’s Eve kisses the year Manon didn’t make it home. Everyone had pictures of and with Aelin crowding their camera rolls, and in most of them, she was dead center with something wicked in her smile and embers crackling in her eyes. 

Lately, however, she had fallen into the edges of the group. Rowan wasn’t sure how everyone else failed to notice how she had withdrawn into herself, how she was no longer screaming the lyrics to Don’t Stop Me Now while twirling on the bar, inches away from falling into a heap on the floor. These days she was too damn quiet, and it bothered Rowan more than it should have. 

Being her twenty-fifth birthday, he had expected her to be difficult to tame all night. Last year she drone on and on about how over the top she would be on this day. He distinctly remembered her and Lysandra scrolling through various clothing sites once they were too drunk to dance anymore, loudly declaring “That’s the one!” more than once.

On his way to their favorite bar, he had been turning over images of Chaol or Aedion carrying her to the car, thrown over a shoulder while she giggled wildly one minute and complained about the stars spinning the next. That was exactly how last year had ended, everyone cheering when Chaol drove out of the parking lot with the golden blonde blowing kisses from the passenger seat.

Tonight she had a hot pink banner declaring her the birthday queen draped around her torso. Instead of being in her usual get-up of an ostentatious sequin mini dress and six-inch heels, she wore ripped jeans and a white blouse with wing-like sleeves. It wasn’t even too deeply cut; hardly any cleavage could be seen. Not that Rowan was looking– last year’s dress had her chest on such display that he had only been able to say “Wow.” Aelin had winked, shimmying her shoulders, and said, “I’ve got it, so I’ll flaunt it.” And then she was sashaying through the crowd to reach the bar, her entire back exposed. Rowan had spent too much time performing the mental gymnastics to figure out how a dress could stay on her body when it was made of so little fabric. 

It was beyond him how nobody else had picked up on this shift in demeanor. Or maybe they had and were ignoring it until it became an issue large enough for an intervention of sorts. Everyone was allowed bad days, after all. Maybe it was just a bad day. 

Her dazzling blue and gold eyes were focused on the ring on her left hand, her thumb moving back and forth over the white gold band. The single stone glittered as she wiggled it about. It looked like she was nearing a frown, but was holding it back. Everyone was a few drinks deep, Rowan himself on his third beer, but Aelin had been nursing the same cocktail from an hour ago. The ice was almost completely melted down, and she grimaced with each little sip, lips pursing around the little black straw. When he glanced back up at her eyes, they were on him. They were slightly narrowed, and her brow was furrowed, silently asking him what the fuck he was doing staring at her. 

Rowan merely shrugged, bringing his glass to his lips and taking a sip as he leaned back in his chair to survey the crowd. Most of the girls were dancing, save Lysandra, who was perched at Aelin’s side. Aedion was kicking everyone’s ass at darts, save for Lorcan, who wiped the floor on a nightly basis. Nobody has ever beat him except Aelin, but she claimed it wasn’t her cup of tea. Rowan knew it was probably because of the satisfaction of beating him one single time, never giving him a chance at a rematch, and it drove the dark man absolutely insane. 

With one last glance at the birthday girl, Rowan left the table and approached his friends to, hopefully, give Lorcan a run for his money. He was feeling lucky, but that could have been the whiskey talking. The neon lights shone down on them, bathing them in hues of white, blue, red, and green. A single warm light was pointed directly at the dart board, making it easier to find the mark. For the first time in a while, Rowan managed to beat Lorcan in the first round, which led to the brute demanding more, more, more. 

The hours passed as quickly as the darts they threw, surprising him when he checked his phone and saw it was nearing four a.m. The sun would soon be cresting over the eastern skyline again. Still, the parking lot was completely dark except for the single shoddy light that flickered in the corner. Rowan’s buzz had faded, but as he neared the table, he realized that Aelin’s had not. At some point, she had taken to drinking again, several cups in various shapes and sizes littering the table. Her golden hair was splayed across it, probably soaking up bits of alcohol and food crumbs. The thought made Rowan frown, an expression Aelin returned without lifting her head from where it lay. 

“My legs don’t work,” she informed him, words slurring together beneath a heavy sigh. A dark red fingernail swirled invisible pictures over the wood, occasionally catching a bit of condensation from a glass to leave a swirling path behind. 

“At all?”

“Barely,” she grumbled, propping a squished cheek on her fist. As much as he hated to admit it, she looked adorable. And nothing like her usual drunk self. 

Rowan couldn’t help but notice that Chaol wasn't anywhere to be seen. He had been on Aelin duty for the last several years when everyone got too drunk. Now was about the time he was usually wrangling her into the front seat of the car, tucking her feet in before closing the door while she tried to yell out the window. 

“Where’s–”

“Never showed up.” Aelin huffed, a tuft of her hair blowing up and out. She sat up and propped her chin in her hand. The gesture made her cheek squish and her lips pout out. Golden strands of her were messy around her face.  Her eyes dimmed as she eyed the table, tapping a fingernail against the rough surface. “Can you just take me home?”

“Do you want to say goodnight to everyone?”

“I’m just tired,” she said, grabbing her purse and shoving her phone into it without a second glance. “I’ll send Aedion a text.” 

“I– yeah. Okay. I’ll take you home.”

Aelin struggled to stand, her feet wobbling and her knees locking up. Rowan swooped in with an arm around her waist, her’s immediately falling around his neck. Her fingers tangled into the air at the nape of his neck for a brief moment. The fingernails against his skin sent goosebumps all over his body, a shiver running up and down his spine. 

Nobody seemed to notice as they left, slipping out the door as the bartender shouted for last call. Several groans chased them out of the building before the early morning silence encased them completely. The only sounds to be heard were bugs chirping in the woods surrounding the bar and a random car speeding down the street. Rowan rolled his eyes while he helped her to his car, opening his Jeep door and helping her inside. He took care with her head, covering it with his hand while he nudged her in and buckled her seatbelt. Aelin gave him a forced half-smile, slouched down a bit in the chair and rested her head back against the seat. 

By the time he got to the other side and started the car, her eyes were closed. Even the closing of his door, the starting of the engine, nor the music flowing through the speakers almost too loud roused her. Rowan reached over and shook her knee a bit to get her attention, but her head just rolled the other way and she sighed. This girl that was merely an acquaintance on a good day was snoozing in his passenger seat, and he had no fucking idea where she lived.

Despite knowing that she would kick his ass for it, he felt bad for her. There had been such a heavy sadness in her eyes when he found her at the table. He hadn’t ever seen her like that. Of all the people in the world to be sad on their birthday, Aelin Galathynius didn’t even make the list. Yet tonight she hadn’t been dancing, hadn’t been singing the songs at the top of her lungs, and hadn’t been the usual cheery drunk he knew her to be. Instead, Aelin had been a shell of herself.

Rowan was still contemplating if anyone had noticed or if they were choosing to ignore it. Maybe they had all been threatened by the blonde to carry on as usual. It was the only thing that made sense. The only other person Rowan really noticed watching Aelin, from a distance so she wouldn’t yell at him most likely, was Aedion. Everyone else seemed too lost in their alcohol induced haze, partying like they did on every other occasion. Surely they’d all noticed that Aelin wasn’t spinning in circles with them, her bright laughter carrying over the music. 

Sighing, he turned out onto the street and began to drive. He didn’t know where he was going, just up and down the familiar streets of the city he had lived in his entire adult life. Before pulling out of the parking lot he’d shot off a few texts to their friends. No one had responded with her address yet. It wouldn’t surprise him if their phones were dead from all the pictures they’d taken into the wee hours of the morning. He fully expected to see his instagram littered with party posts, yet doubted he would see Aelin front and center in any of them.

As tired as his eyes were, he kept driving. Left at the green light, right at the red. It had rained at sojme point in the night and his tires slicing through the damp street was the only sound after he muted the radio. He slipped between lanes and a handful of straggler cars either on an early commute or heading home from a late night. Yellow lights winked at him in areas he needed to slow down and watch for pedestrians. There weren’t any, but he yielded all the same.  Driving with Aelin asleep in the passenger seat was the most careful he had driven in a long time. 

It must have been over an hour before the sun began to rise while he drove east. Dusty blue hues changed to golden light and he turned around to drive the other direction, desperate to get the sun out of her eyes, but it was too late. With a heavy inhale, Aelin brought her hands to her eyes to rub the sleep away. She looked over at Rowan and gave a sheepish smile, one that told him she was definitely still drunk and insanely tired. 

“Where are we?”

“I know you live downtown, but I didn’t know where. So I’ve just… been driving until you woke up.”

“Why didn’t you just wake me?” There was amusement and a tinge of laughter in her sleepy voice. He wasn’t sure why but it soothed something inside of him, like maybe she was still in there after all. 

“I tried. No dice, clearly.”

“You’re actually not too far. Take a right up here. It’s the Staghorn building on the left.” Now that she said it, something flicked in his memory about his friends mentioning she lived there. Rowan had never been to her place, though. 

They were, in fact, just around the corner. It took three minutes to pull up in front of her massive apartment building. Aelin took a moment to gather her purse off the floor, sifting through it to make sure she had everything. Then, when she looked over at him, she grinned widely. It was so blindingly beautiful that he almost looked away, but couldn’t. That was the golden thing about Aelin. 

“I’ve never been able to handle beer. That’s why I stick to mixed drinks. Beer makes me such a sad drunk,” she laughed, smile no longer reaching her eyes. He wondered if she knew that he wasn’t buying it. Most likely not. Aelin was a chameleon, extremely good at showing people what they wanted to see. But Rowan also knew that Aelin hadn’t had a single beer all night. Instead of pointing it out, he smiled softly at her and nodded. As she opened the door she paused, looking at him over her shoulder and said, “Thank you for this. Next one’s on me.”

And before he could say anything else, she was slipping out of the seat and shutting the door behind her. His car idled softly while he made sure she got inside the front doors okay, the doorman smiling and greeting her like they were old friends. Aelin dug through her purse for her keys as she crossed the threshold, grasping the correct one like it was her lifeline. 

Rowan didn’t miss that once she was inside, she paused, shoulders sagging like her mask slipped off and she carried the weight of the world.

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#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #aedion ashryver #sjm #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin fic #the first red light #tfrl #tfrl1 #rowan x aelin #tog #throne of glass #tog fic #tog fanfic #throne of glass fanfic #writing #writeblr #my writing #modern au

[fangirlprincess-writes]

Friends Don't Look At Friends That Way - Chapter 5: Age 16 (after the summer)

cw: mentions of cheating

word count: 2.019

read on AO3 || masterlist

sorry it took me so long to post! i started university in october and things have been a little stressful! i'll try to find a more regular posting schedule though! meanwhile, have fun with this and don't hate me pls.

---

chapter summary: the one about first heartbreak

---

School started back up a month and a half ago and Aelin already feels like she needs a vacation again. And judging by her friends' faces, they can see it too. 

"You look terrible, babes," Lys tells her that morning in the car and Nehemia nods in agreement.

"Thank you," Aelin says, her words dripping with sarcasm. 

"You know what I mean," Lys just rolls her eyes. 

"I do," Aelin sighs. 

"Wanna talk about it?" Lysandra gives Aelin a gentle nudge with her arm, never taking her eyes off the road.

"I just cannot believe how stressful school is all of a sudden!" Aelin bursts out. "I mean, junior year just started but already our teachers are telling us that we need to start thinking about our futures, and what colleges we want to apply for, and to plan accordingly. And don't get me started on SAT prep!"

"Hey, that's understandable," Nehemia's calm voice interjects from the backseat. "But don't stress yourself out too much right now. There's still a lot of time left for you to think about all those things."

"I guess," Aelin says noncommittally. "I'm just having a hard time accepting the fact we're more than halfway done with high school. The future just seems so much closer now than it did before the summer."

"I know what you mean," Lys agrees. "But it won't get less scary if you worry about it all the time."

"That's true," Nehemia interjects and puts a comforting hand on Aelin's shoulder. "How about we get together this weekend and make a plan."

"A plan?" Aelin asks. 

"Yes, a plan," Nehemia continues. "We'll write down all the deadlines we have, like the SAT test day, college applications, and whatever else, and then we'll write down the things we need to do until then. Maybe it helps if we cut it up into bite-size pieces rather than trying to eat the whole cake."

"That actually sounds really good,'" Lys agrees. 

"It does." Aelin can't believe her luck. She has two amazing friends who not only endure her worries, but also help her through them. "But now I want cake," she groans and they all laugh.

The first half of the day goes by quickly, though Aelin has even more assignments now. She makes her way to the cafeteria for lunch when Remelle steps out of a classroom and almost bumps into Aelin. Remelle can just stop herself at the last second.

"Whoa, hi there," Aelin says. 

"Oh, sorry. I didn't see you," Remelle shrugs.

"No problem," Aelin chuckles awkwardly. "Were you going to lunch?"

Remelle gives her a look that Aelin translates as Well, duh, where else would I be going at lunch-time. "Yes," she says after a moment.

"Great. Me too." Aelin wants a hole to open underneath her to save her from this conversation. They start walking together in silence and Aelin is frantically trying to come up with something to talk about. "So, what class did you just have?"

"Math." Remelle seems equally unmotivated to find a topic of conversation.

"I hate math." Aelin comments, not sure what else to say.

"Yeah, same." 

Finally, they arrive at their lunch table. Remelle goes to greet her friends and Aelin plops down on a bench between Chaol and Nehemia. She gives Chaol a quick peck on the cheek, not wanting to interrupt his conversation with Lorcan, who is sitting a bit further down the table.

 Lys, who is sitting across from her, gives a pointed look in Remelle's direction and then raises an eyebrow at Aelin. 

"We ran into each other on the way here and then walked together," Aelin explains. 

It's no secret that Aelin doesn't really know how to interact with Remelle. Even though Rowan has been dating her for what, almost seven months now, Aelin has never really talked to her. 

"How was that?" Lys asks.

"The usual. Anyways, what are we talking about?"

"We were talking about going to see a movie this afternoon. Do you wanna come?" Nehemia asks.

"Sure! I'm gonna tutor this freshman today, but we can go after that." Aelin tells her friends.

"Yeah, that's fine," Lys tells her.

Chaol, now done, looks at her. "What's fine?" 

"We're gonna go see a movie this afternoon," Aelin tells him. "Do you wanna come?"

"I took my bike today," Chaol grimaces at her. 

"I can drive us there and then just drop you off at school again so you can bike home from here. Then it's not as far?" Aelin suggests. 

"Sure," he says, giving her a kiss and getting up. 

"Wait, where are you going? Lunch isn't over for another," she quickly glances at the clock,"thirty minutes."

"Yeah, I know, babe. But I have to go talk to Mr Cooper about one of my assignments and he told me to come to him during lunch." He gives a shrug that says What can you do? 

"Okay. See you later then?" 

He gives her a nod and makes his way out of the cafeteria.

Her friends have meanwhile started discussing something to do with their history class. Aelin takes that opportunity to tune them out a bit and glance over at Rowan, who is sitting on the opposite bench, a bit further down the table. He and Fenrys are deep in conversation and Aelin lets herself look at him for five seconds, before moving her gaze along. She hasn't had one-on-one time with Rowan in more than two months now, and their school interactions were also getting few and far in-between. He is pretty busy with Lacrosse at the moment, to make sure he gets to keep his permanent spot on the roster for the year. But Aelin just misses him sometimes. 

Movement close to Rowan catches her eye again. Lithaen, one of Remelle's best friends, just got up from the table and Remelle is laughing at her. 

"Really, Li, you have to do your homework during lunch again? You really gotta get better with your time-management."

Lithaen just gives a self-deprecating shrug and smiles at her friend. When she turns to leave, she sees Aelin watching her and her smile dims. 

Aelin turns back to her friends and joins the conversation again.

Ten minutes before lunch is over, Aelin slaps her hand against her forehead. Both Nehemia and Lys look at her as if she's just lost her mind. 

"What's wrong?" Nehemia wants to know.

"I just remembered I was actually supposed to meet up with Ms Garcia during lunch so that she can give me the lesson plans for the tutoring." Aelin stands and quickly gathers her stuff. "I hope I'll still catch her. See you later, guys," she throws over her shoulder.

She leaves the cafeteria in a hurry and turns the corner to the hallway that leads to the classrooms, only to promptly run into someone. 

"I'm so sorry," Aelin apologizes. 

"Don't worry about it," a deep voice says.

"Oh, Mr Cooper! Is Chaol already done talking with you?"

"Chaol? No, I haven't seen him at all today. Did I miss an appointment with him?"

"Oh, no… He just said… Forget it." Aelin gives the teacher a smile and continues to Ms Garcia's classroom. She wonders where Chaol went if he wasn't with Mr Cooper. Maybe he just misspoke and meant a different teacher? She thinks about texting him to ask where he was but decides against it. He sometimes gets angry when she asks where he was when she couldn't reach him.

Rain is battering against the roof of Aelin's car. It almost manages to drown out the soft music playing over her phone's speaker. 

It's afternoon a few days later and school has been out for a while now, but Aelin is waiting for Chaol. Lacrosse practice ended a little bit ago and she's here to pick him up. They want to do a coffee-date.

Aelin checks the time. It's been over fifteen minutes now since practice ended. Usually Chaol should be here by now. She looks through her window and contemplates texting him to see what's taking him so long when she sees Rowan marching toward her car. Chaol is hot on his heels, holding his hand over his nose and sending a death-glare at Rowan.

It takes her a moment to process what she's seeing. As Rowan comes closer, she gets a better view of his face. Aelin has never seen him look this angry in all their years of knowing each other. He doesn't seem to be angry at her though, which just makes the whole situation weirder. 

She gets out of the car to talk to them and Rowan has almost reached her. As soon as she closes the door behind her, Rowan catches her eye and there's this look on his face that makes her stomach churn. 

"Oh my god, what happened?" She isn't sure who she is directing the question at.

Rowan's eyes flash with sympathy and she just knows that something bad happened.

"Tell her." Rowan's words are biting and directed at Chaol. "Tell her what you did."

Chaol takes his hands off his face and Aelin can see he was cradling his nose. There's blood all over his hands and face. "I did nothing! You just hit me!" Chaol accuses.

Rowan had done this? Her soft-spoken best friend who'd never gotten into a fight his whole life?

"Don't lie to her," Rowan snaps, his words laced with barely-contained fury.

"I'm not lying! I don't know what you think you saw, but–"

Aelin has a feeling she knows where this is going to go. A heavy weight settles in her stomach. "Tell me what happened."

"Your friend just hit me out of nowhere!" Chaol looks at her, indignation written all over his features.

"Not you," Aelin says cooly, leveling her gaze at Rowan. "Rowan. Tell me what happened."

 The look he gives her is full of something that looks an awful lot like pity. "I saw him with Lithaen. They were kissing. I'm sorry, Aelin."

Aelin's ears start ringing. She turns her head to Chaol and only asks two words. "How long?"

Chaol's gaze flits between her and Rowan and she can see his thoughts play out on his face. He knows she'll always believe Rowan over anyone, that there's no point in denying it anymore. So he just answers her question. "Since the summer."

Aelin's brain has already been trying to figure out the how and the when and there's an obvious answer. "So all those weekends and afternoons you were too busy with 'family stuff' or 'homework' to hang out? And when you disappeared in school?"

He levels her with a pitying look and opens his mouth to speak, but Aelin just about had it with boys and their pity for one day.

"I changed my mind. Don't answer that," she quickly says before Chaol can get a word out. 

She looks at the both of them for a moment, Chaol already seeming like he is over the whole situation and trying to get a look at his nose to assess the damage and Rowan eyeing her like she might collapse at any moment and she does not want to deal with either of them for a second longer. "I'm going to leave now," she announces, her gaze focused on Chaol. "But just in case it wasn't clear already: we're over." Chaol just gives her a nod.

She turns around and opens her car door when she hears Rowan come closer. 

"Aelin," he starts.

She turns toward him. "No. I just… I can't right now." She sits down in the driver's seat and looks up at Rowan who still stands close to her open door. "Thank you, though. For telling me."

"Of course," he nods, "Tell me if you need anything."

All Aelin can do is nod as she closes the car door. She starts the engine and makes it all the way home and into her driveway, before she puts the car in park, lets her head fall down against the steering wheel and starts to sob.

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