#rowaelin au fic

[charincharge]

I Don't Want To Wait, sixty-seven

rowaelin high school bff au masterlist

AN: WHOOPS, I disappeared for two years. (Legit the last chapter was posted in May 2022!). But I’m back and have written… a lot of the rest of this fic, so we’re just going to post weekly (or even twice weekly!) until we’re finished. And I hope you’re still out there, anyone, to enjoy it. Quick recap for a previously on IDWTW. Aelin and Rowan had sex! It was great. Then they walked in on Rhoe and her dance teacher Petrah having sex, which was NOT great. Aelin never wants to go back to dance again. We returned to school. Senior second semester is going great. Busy for Aelin, who is still trying to work her butt off re: APs and grades. Less busy for Rowan, who is already recruited to college for lacrosse. Aelin and Lys had a huge falling out, but have slowly rekindled their friendship now that Lys is sober and working on her shit. Elide and Manon came out! They’re running as homecoming queens! Dorian and Chaol haven’t DTRed and are taking a break. Last we left off, Aelin texted someone to help retrieve her lacrosse hoodie from the dance studio after hours. But who? Keep reading to find out. Also, I have been gone for so long that I have NO idea who is still in the fandom or reading Rowaelin fic. Please reblog to spread the word! Taglist doesn't seem to possible anymore, so please share! Love you all and missed you all. Comment, message, meme, gif, whatever. Let’s go, team.

Aelin watched with wide eyes as Lys lowered into a crouch and removed a bobby pin from her hair. When she’d texted her friend to help with her mission, she hadn’t realized that Lysandra was a bona-fide expert at breaking and entering. 

“It got boring in rehab,” Lys said with a small shrug, as if that explained her masterful lock-picking.

“Good to know,” Aelin said, chewing her thumb nervous and glancing over her shoulder at Rowan, who waited patiently in the jeep — aka, their getaway car. She didn’t think they’d actually need one, but this whole thing was such a thing, she figured it was probably safest to have a getaway car. What if the cops were called about the break-in, and they had to run? 

Aelin almost chuckled at the thought of Orynth’s elderly Police Chief trying to run after them, but it hadn’t stopped her from telling Lys to dress all in black and meet them at the dance studio at eight. Luckily, Rhoe was at the station overnight, so he couldn’t see their ridiculous antics. But, after all, this mission was serious. She tried to refocus on Lys, who was finagling with a pin in the lock, taking her sweet time. A rush of panic ran through Aelin. What if they got caught? What if this got put on her permanent record? What if they got arrested?

BZZZZ. Aelin’s phone vibrated in her hand, making her jump with surprise. 

“Gods,” she muttered under her breath, causing Lys to chuckle under her breath.

“Tell your buzzard not to worry, we’re almost there,” she said, twisting the pin again in a different direction. Aelin sighed at the reassurance. She knew that Rowan had to be feeling her nerves as well. Although maybe not quite as much. She wasn’t usually concerned about being a rule follower, but every step of the way had made her feel more and more stressed out. Which might have to do more with her overbearing boyfriend watching their every move than anything else. Couldn’t he just sit there and look cute and not worry? She looked at his text and shook her head. She should have known it’d be impossible. He was the biggest worry wart of them all.

Are you sure no one’s in the studio? It looks like the lights are on upstairs. Rowan texted from the front seat, his view of the studio probably better than theirs. But Aelin had spent too many years of her life at this studio. Despite her churning stomach, she knew they were fine.

Last class ended an hour ago. They always leave the lights on for the cleaning staff, but they get Fridays off, so they’re on until Saturday morning. It was part of my class schedule to turn the lights off. We’re good.

She looked over her shoulder after sending the text, and watched as Rowan threw a thumbs up in her direction. She couldn’t help but laugh at how silly he looked in his oversized black hoodie with the hood up. Despite completely disapproving of her decision, he showed up ready for the assignment at hand. 

“Tadaaa,” Lys sang out quietly as the lock clicked open, the door popping ajar. 

“Honestly, when I asked you to help me break into the dance studio, I figured we’d be throwing a rock into a window or something,” Aelin whispered, even though there was absolutely no reason to whisper at all. Aelin had timed it purposefully, so she wouldn’t have to run into … anyone. Okay, she really didn’t want to have to talk to Petrah. She’d avoided the studio (and Petrah) for so many weeks following the revelation that she’d been involved with her dad, and she had no intention of breaking that now. So, they’d had no choice but to break into the studio under the cover of darkness.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Lys said. “The door upstairs has a lock, too, right?” 

Aelin nodded. Annoyingly, there were three doors they had to break open — the building door, the door to the second floor, and then the dance studio entrance. Thank god Aelin had her locker key, so that wasn’t a worry.

“So, why are we doing this again?” Lys asked as they trudged up the long stairwell to the second floor. She tried not to flinch as the rubber-covered stairs squeaked beneath her shoes. “Not that I’m not happy to help,” she continued. “I just thought that you started dancing again and loved it?”

“Ugh,” Aelin groaned. “I did.” Aelin paused for a beat too long, causing Lys to flip her dark curls over her shoulder to get a better look at Aelin. 

“But?”

“It’s…complicated,” Aelin sighed as Lys crouched down in front of the second floor door.

“Well, this is going to take a minute,” Lys laughed. “Tell me.” Aelin was going to refute again when Lys’s voice changed, softer. “Unless you don’t want to…”

Aelin nearly smacked herself. She’d thought this would be a ridiculous, fun (and pretty low-stakes) way to hang out with Lys again, and here she was totally ruining it by keeping things to herself again.

“No, it’s not like that,” Aelin reassured her as she continued to work on the lock. “It’s just… horrifying.”

“Well now you can’t not tell me,” Lys snickered, but Aelin recognized the slight trepidation in her friend’s green eyes. Still nervous to push things. Aelin bit the bullet and let it out in a whoosh.

“Oh my GOD.” Lys’s nose crinkled, and she fell to her knees completely as her shoulders shook with laughter as Aelin told her story. “I mean, we all knew Rhoe fucked,” Lys cackled, causing Aelin to smack her friend’s knee. 

“EW! That is my dad,” she said, fake heaving.

“He’s a hot, hot firefighter daddy, though,” Lys said, her eyebrows wiggling.

“I swear to god I will vomit straight on you.”

Aelin tried to be serious, but Lysandra’s smile pushed them both over the edge into a fit of giggles. They laughed and laughed, releasing the tension that had been hovering around them like a thick blanket all night, officially removing all traces of formality. Unable to help herself, Aelin reached out for her friend’s hand, squeezing her fingers gently and was relieved as Lys squeezed back. They weren’t healed, per se, but they were healing, and that was the most that Aelin could really ask for right now.

Taking a breath and wiping the remnant tracks of tears from her cheeks, Lys pushed herself back up to her knees. “Second lock?”

“Speaking of my family…” Aelin started nervously, but forged on, curious. “How’s Aedion doing?” 

To her credit, Lys didn’t even lose pace as she unlocked the next door with ease.

“I know you want me to reply with something equally scandalous, but there’s nothing going on between me and Aedion,” Lys replied succinctly. “We’re friends.”

“Okay,” Aelin said, not completely convinced, but chose to respect her boundaries and believe her words. 

The pair fell into an awkward silence as they headed down the hall toward the studio door. Just one last lock to get through — and then she’d never have to return to this place. A part of her heart panged at that thought, that she’d be leaving Orynth and this studio behind and not really getting to say goodbye to it. But running into Petrah was NOT an option.

“Hey, isn’t this the studio?” Lys asked of a propped open door, a gentle music wafting from inside. Aelin’s stomach sank. Had someone stayed late tonight practicing? It was a plus that they wouldn’t have to break into yet another door, but she really didn’t want to risk running into anyone. “I thought you said it was closed.”

At the same time, the pair noticed the schedule on the door, showing the company’s new rehearsal schedule. Their rehearsals now went until nine on Friday night, meaning that Aelin had shown up in the middle of a packed studio, instead of an empty one. And one where Petrah would surely be. She contemplated turning right around, but Lys had already opened the door too far, leading them into the studio lobby where the company was on break, milling around and refilling their water bottles.

And at the front desk, Petrah’s eyes widened with surprise upon seeing her. “Aelin!”

She should have guessed breaking in had been too easy. Had the doors even been locked? She knew Lysandra had gotten through them too quickly! Grumbling, she stepped out of the shadow and into the lobby toward Petrah. She couldn’t run away anymore, so she had no choice but to say hello to the woman who she’d been studiously avoiding for weeks. And by the look on Petrah’s face, she knew it, too.

“I’ll go grab your jersey,” Lys whispered, leaving her to fend for herself. “See you downstairs!”

“Traitor,” Aelin mumbled under her breath as Lysandra all but ran into the locker room, excusing herself from the awkward conversation that surely lay ahead. She wanted to run, but her feet were stuck, watching Petrah approach nervously.

“Aelin,” she said again, taking a deep breath. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you….” But Aelin cut her off.

“I don’t want to talk about it!” she said, ready to slap her hands over her ears, lest Petrah talk about her dad in any less than completely formal way.

Petrah’s deep pink lips curled up on one side in amusement, but Aelin watched as she took another deep breath and shook off whatever she’d been about to say. Instead, she watched as her smile fell into a wistful expression. “We’ve missed seeing you around here,” Petrah said.

Aelin’s eyes shot to the open doorway of the studio where the company practiced, all jetes and pirouettes and well-supported port de bras. She had missed dancing. She really had just gotten back into it when she let it fall away. Petrah must have seen her expression because she smiled faintly and let her delicate hand fall to Aelin’s shoulder.

“You could join the class. Dance it out,” Petrah suggested.

Aelin couldn’t tear her eyes away from the dancers. She watched the emotion pour from them. That is what she needed. But as Lysandra held up her jersey and trailed down the stairs in the periphery of her vision, Aelin shook her head.

“I can’t tonight.”

“I understand that it might be strange to spend time with me after what you overheard…” Petrah trailed off as blood pooled in her cheeks, filling her usual pale complexion with a deep blush. “It was completely casual. It’s only happened a handful of times, and we both know it’s not serious. I’m not trying to replace your mother, or anything like that, it’s just… an occasional stress release, and oh my god, I am sorry I didn’t mean to say any of that.” Aelin cringed at the words. She wanted to stop Petrah, but the woman couldn’t be stopped even if she wanted to. “Please don’t give up dance because of this,” Petrah pleaded. “You have such a gift, Aelin, and I would be filled with regret for the rest of my life if I knew I was the cause of you walking away from it.”

Aelin took a breath, the comforting scent of chalk and worn leather infiltrating her senses and calming her down as she figured out what to reply to Petrah. Of course she wanted to dance still. It was undeniable, the way her body pulled her toward the studio, the way a sense of calm settled through her despite her initial discomfort upon seeing Petrah. She thought about her lack of free time and her constantly building stress as the semester went on and how badly she wished she could just dance it out. That release of emotion centered her, and she knew that she was feeling off kilter without it. Making time for dance had improved her life drastically — it'd kept her sane as the rest of her semester spiraled out of control — and she wanted it back. So, so badly.

She was on the verge of agreeing to join the practice when there was a crash and loud shriek from the studio. When the shriek morphed into a choked sob, a churning nausea overwhelmed Aelin. She watched as Petrah’s face morphed into one of horror as she sprinted into the studio. Sure enough, one of the dancers was on the floor, cradling her ankle, cheeks red and involuntary tears dripping down her skin, while another dancer attempted to help her stand. The girl hissed, crying out in pain and sat down again.

“Call an ambulance,” someone ordered, and suddenly there was a frenzy, a rush of dancers looking on in terror at the injury in front of them. Aelin stood with her back against the wall, not wanting to be in the way, slinking out of sight while so much was going on. It felt like a sign from the universe that Aelin shouldn’t even think about wasting her time with dancing. Like the gods warned her that she had way too much going on to even consider it.

With Petrah distracted, Aelin slipped out, trying to gain control of her waging feelings. She slid into the backseat next to Lys, her mind reeling and unable to get the image of the crying dancer out of her head. So caught up in her own thoughts, she didn’t even hear Rowan call out to her, until red and blue flashed behind them. He swung his head over her shoulder, his mouth agape in horror as he stared at his unusually quiet girlfriend.

“Ace, what did you do? Are those the cops?!”

Aelin shook her head, the horrible feeling of nausea persisting in her gut as Rowan drove away from the studio.

. . .

It had been days since Aelin had received a text from an unknown number, and she still hadn’t decided what she was going to do.

I thought you should know we’re holding an emergency dance company audition this Tuesday at 5pm. Please come, Aelin.

Aelin chewed her sandwich thoughtfully as she pulled up the text again. The audition was merely hours away, but she was still on the fence.

“You still haven’t made up your mind?” Lysandra asked, glancing at Aelin’s phone screen. Her former — maybe current — friend had started joining them at the lunch table in the last few days since their late night break in, continuing to heal and thaw what had broken between them.

“I keep telling her to pro con list,” Rowan said, letting his fingers trail across the back of her neck and kneading the tight muscles there with his strong grasp.

“Mmmm,” Aelin mumbled, leaning further into his touch. “Con. Time spent without you.”

“Pro, something to do while I’m at lacrosse practice,” he countered as his fingers massaged a particularly tender part of her neck. She angled her head so he could have better access, but he took it as an invitation to let his head drop to her bare skin and press his lips against it, causing her body to light up. As she leaned toward him with another light moan, Dorian slammed his tray down on the table with a loud thwack.

“Get a room or get outta here,” he complained, tossing a fry at the still-intertwined pair.

“Someone’s got their panties in a bunch,” Aelin laughed as she tossed the fry back at the offender.

“My panties are perfectly smooth, thank you very much,” Dorian quipped. “Some of us would just prefer not to bear witness to your foreplay.”

“Pro,” Rowan whispered into Aelin’s ear, his lips ghosting against the tickling skin there. “I really love watching you dance.”

“Pro,” Aelin whispered back. “Increased stamina, muscle strength, and flexibility.”

Aelin glanced up at Rowan, who was already staring back at her with a fiery intensity. Her eyes glanced down at his mouth, which was curled into a satisfied smirk. His throat bobbed with a slow swallow, surely thinking of all the way those fitness benefits could be put to good use. She leaned in slightly, her lips a hairs breadth away from his when another fry hit her cheek. Aelin whipped her head around, rubbing at the salty spot where the food had made contact with her face.

Dorian was the picture of innocence, eyes wide as he chewed his own fry.

“Con,” Lys interjected. “Increased horniness.”

“Literally didn’t think that was possible,” Dorian said with a snort. “So, what are we pro-conning?” he asked, popping another fry into his mouth.

“Orynth Dance Company is having an emergency audition after an injury, and Aelin was personally invited to try out,” Lysandra explained.

“But I don’t really have the time,” Aelin started. “It would require actual rehearsal time. Like, a lot of nights. Not just an hour long class. Plus, I’d have to see Petrah every day. And I have to knock this last semester’s grades out of the park if I want to even think about getting a scholarship anywhere, plus I have a million AP exams to study for coming up, and that’s not even considering keeping up with hospital volunteering and going to your games and having any kind of semblance of a social life and…” she trailed off, her stomach finally settling as she came to the conclusion she knew she was going to come to all along. “I can’t join the dance company.”

Rowan frowned and reached for her hand. “Are you sure, Ace?” His hand wrapped around hers in a comforting squeeze, and she knew he was asking seriously. “We could make it work. I could help you study, we could bring out your color-coded schedule again to make sure we could fit everything in.”

“I know,” Aelin sighed, squeezing back. “But, I’m sure.”

But as the afternoon ticked by, Aelin couldn’t ignore the swirling feeling of guilt trying to pull her under. She was so distracted by the approaching time that she completely zoned out through all of AP Lit, startling when the period ended and Dorian poked her side.

And as five PM approached closer and closer, she found herself growing more agitated and even snapping at Rowan at one point. It wasn’t his fault; he had to head off to lacrosse practice, but Aelin had found herself so worked up that she had thought maybe he’d want to help release some tension.

“I’ll come right over after practice,” Rowan promised as he twined his hands around her waist.

“But you’ll be all sweaty and gross,” Aelin replied with a frown.

“I thought you liked when I get sweaty,” he laughed, nuzzling his nose into her hair. Aelin sighed, knowing she was being petulant, but she couldn’t get out of her own head.

“Only when I’m the one doing it!”

She tried to push him away, but Rowan’s grasp on her was iron-clad, too tight for her to even think about prying him off her. “Ace,” he lowered his voice. “I would love nothing more than to skip practice and be with you, but you know this is the only thing I need to do this semester to keep my place at Wendlyn.”

“Because Wendlyn’s more important than me?”

“I think you need a snack,” Rowan laughed, but Aelin didn’t find that funny at all.

“Sorry my blood sugar problems are amusing to you,” she said, stiffening within his grasp. She felt Rowan sigh deeply and watched as he pinched the bridge of his nose and scrunched his brows up the way she loved so much.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “You know that’s not—”

“I know,” Aelin replied quickly. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

Rowan raised a single brow as if to tell her he knew exactly what had gotten into her, and so did she.

“It’s not even four yet,” Rowan said. “You could still go.”

But Aelin was nothing if not resolute. She’d made up her mind, and it was completely logical. And she was sticking to it. No, she’d head home and, yes, get a snack, and dig into her lit homework. Maybe Dorian would be willing to give her his notes from the class, seeing as she couldn’t remember a single thing that was discussed earlier.

She forced a smile and shrugged her shoulders back. “Nope, you were right. I need a snack. I’ll head to Maeve’s and see what she’s got for me.”

Rowan grimaced. “She closed for the afternoon, actually, while they put in a new stove, but she should be reopened by the time I’m out of practice.” Aelin shivered as Rowan let his fingers trail in small circles up and down her back. “Why don’t I stop there on my way to your place after practice? Cheeseburger and brownies?”

“And then orgasms?” Aelin asked, causing a loud snort to erupt from Rowan.

“You want to have sex after cheeseburger and brownies? That feels dangerous.”

“Well, we could have sex first, but reheated cheeseburgers are pretty garbage,” Aelin replied, loving the soft smile that appeared on Rowan’s face. It was the one solely reserved for her. When she was being particularly ridiculous or annoying, it was like he couldn’t help but love her more, and the small curve of his lips let her know that.

“You’re right. Cheeseburgers first,” he paused. “Then sex, then brownies?”

“Deal,” Aelin said as she reached her hand out to shake his. But he instead grasped it in his and brought it to his mouth, kissing her knuckles lightly.

“I love you,” he said.

And though Aelin wanted to roll her eyes, she took a moment to relish the fact that her best friend in the whole world loved her. And would do anything to make her smile. In fact, he’d succeeded in getting her too distracted to think about the auditions and…

As soon as she thought about them, her smile faded again.

“Just go,” he whispered, but Aelin shook her head.

“Have a good practice. See you in a few hours.”

She kissed him and sent him off, hoping to pour herself into her studies. But even with her book open, Aelin digested none of what she was reading. She kept looking at the clock, distracted. Even as it passed five pm, knowing that she was missing the auditions, she still couldn’t focus. And her mood started to plummet.

It plummeted even further as she received a text from Rowan saying that their coach needed him to stay behind for a bit after practice and that he’d be later than anticipated.

She tried to read more, and when that didn’t work, she attempted to do some math equations, but she couldn’t get her brain to work. She knew what she needed. And it was to dance it out. Despite everything, that was still her best coping mechanism. When a second text from Rowan came in, apologizing for being even later, Aelin had had enough. She couldn’t just sit here and wallow. Instead, she wrote a note for whoever would get home first – her dad, Lorcan, or Rowan — and began walking.

She didn’t even know where she was walking until she ended up at the dance studio. It was unlocked, but empty. She couldn’t remember if there had been an end time to the auditions, but it seemed completely deserted. No one was sitting at the front desk, and the lights were eerily dim. This is what she’d expected to walk into last week when she’d stolen back her lacrosse hoodie, and she was even more annoyed about it somehow.

Instead of focusing on that, though, she went straight for the first open studio and turned the lights on. The fluorescent bulbs overhead flickered on, illuminating the wooden floors beneath with a warm yellow glow. She toed her sneakers off and padded barefoot to the corner of the studio where the massive (and ancient) stereo system was stored. She pulled her phone out and connected it, pulling up one of the old playlists Rowan had made for her and closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her. Her feet took off, working in sync with the rhythm reverberating through the bare floor. Next, her arms spread, stretching out and shaking off the stress of the last few weeks.

For the first time, she really let herself feel it. The worrying and wondering what the future would hold. She knew Rowan was destined for Wendlyn, but she had no idea what she would do if she didn’t get in, too. He’d assured her that they’d stay together and figure it out, but who really stays with their high school boyfriend? She knew they weren’t like everyone else – they were special – but it didn’t stop her from thinking about it and wondering. When it came down to it, that’s why she really couldn’t bring herself to audition today. She couldn’t risk spending less time with Rowan, not if this was the last few weeks of their relationship.

Whoa. Where did that thought come from?

She ignored the small tear that pooled in the corner of her eye, letting it drip down her cheek as she spun in time with the music. How could she doubt her and Rowan’s relationship after all this time? She knew in her soul that they were destined to be together. She couldn’t imagine a world where she didn’t wake up and see him every day. But there had been a small slice of fear since they first kissed, and it had ebbed and flowed with each passing day until it was now a gaping chasm in the pit of her stomach. The idea that she could end up elsewhere without Rowan was a real, actual problem. And the timeframe was closing in on them. What if this was the end of them? How would she ever recover?

Her hands reached overhead and then she let her body collapse to the floor in a graceful fall, letting go over the overwhelming sensations of fear that had been swirling and threatening to paralyze her. She arched her back and her neck released, the tension that Rowan had tried to knead attempting to relax and letting gravity pull her down, down, down.

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Rowan. She did. More than anything. She just didn’t trust this world. She didn’t trust that everything would work out the way it was supposed to. I mean, just look at her dad. He’d thought he’d found the love of his life, and she walked away like it was nothing. Walked away from Aelin.

She didn’t want to cling to Rowan, to be the girl who changed her whole life just to be with a guy. She wasn’t that person. No. She was Aelin fucking Galathynius, and she could live life fully on her own. But she wanted to be with Rowan. Wanted the whole package. Saw their life together. And wanted more than anything for it to become a reality. But what if that future disappeared? What if it was cut short? What if they drifted apart. What if they tried to do long distance? Last summer while he was at camp was only two months and it was pure torture. It caused a rift so big between them that she wasn’t sure they’d overcome it. And yes, of course they did. But… to do it again? And for four years?

Her emotions threatened to choke her as she continued to dance out her frustrations, stomping and spinning and leaping, hoping against all hopes that the answers to her anxieties would appear if she could only dance long enough. She left every feeling, every worry, every gnawing anxiety on the dance floor, letting it tumble out through her moving limbs.

She didn’t know how long she’d been dancing when she opened her eyes again and refocused at herself in the mirror. She didn’t recognize the girl she saw there. She may not have come up with any answers, but she felt better. Raw, red eyed, red cheeked, and breathing hard, Aelin felt totally exposed. Which is why she nearly jumped out of her skin when a voice cut through the silence, over her harsh exhale.

“Practice starts next week.”

The director of the company stood in the darkened doorway of the studio, arms crossed and lips pursed in thoughtful approval.

“Oh, I wasn’t—”

“I know you weren’t,” she said with a formal smile. “But we’d still love to have you. If you want.”

It wasn’t necessarily the answer she had hoped to reach, but something about this moment felt like the universe trying to reassure her. That things do work out the way they’re supposed to.

“Yeah?” she asked, feeling somewhat hopeful.

“Yes.”

“Okay,” she said.

A wide smile crossed the director’s face. “Welcome to the Orynth Dance Company,” she congratulated her.

Aelin didn’t know what had overcome her, but she couldn’t help but run over to her and throw her sweaty arms around her neck in a giant hug.

“Thank you.”

Right on cue, Aelin’s phone buzzed with another incoming text.

Cheeseburgers en route. See you soon. Xx

. . .

As anticipated, the cheeseburgers were exactly what Aelin needed to rejuvenate herself, but Rowan was totally right that there was no way to be sexy after housing a half pound of meat and cheese.

“I’m so stuffed,” she said, patting her extremely full stomach.

Rowan snorted. “Why don’t we take a post-dinner break and watch something?”

“Only if it’s Housewives!” Lorcan shouted from the kitchen where he was cooking dinner for him and Rhoe, who were properly affronted that Rowan hadn’t brought them cheeseburgers, as well.

Aelin sighed and chuckled softly as she let herself slump over onto Rowan, who was already pulling up Housewives onto the television.

“You are such an enabler,” Aelin laughed.

“It’s easier than dealing with him being pouty,” Rowan smartly replied.

Aelin was about to agree when they were interrupted by an unusual ring tone.

“I’m sorry,” Rowan said, sitting up suddenly. “Is that your… home phone?”

Aelin genuinely couldn’t remember the last time that had rung. Usually she and her dad were both contacted on their cells. They really just had a home line because it was part of their internet package. She couldn’t even remember who had that number.

“Uh, phone’s for you Aelin?” Lorcan shouted from the kitchen.

Even weirder?

“Who the hell would be calling this late on a Tuesday?” Aelin whispered. Rowan’s brow lifted.

“Why don’t you go see?”

Curious, Aelin pried herself off the couch and headed to the kitchen where Lorcan was standing with a spatula in one hand and the phone in the other.

“Who is it?” she whispered.

Lorcan shrugged, simply shoving the phone forward. Helpful.

Aelin cradled the phone against her ear and took a deep breath. “Hello?”

“Hello!” A deep voice rang out over the phone. “Is this Miss Aelin Galathynius?”

“Um,” she cleared her throat. “Yes?”

“Excellent!” the voice boomed, causing her to pull the phone away from her ear slightly. “My name is Xavier Forul, and I’m a local alum of Wendlyn University. I’d love to have you in for an interview some time in the near future. Whenever you’re available! I know you’re a busy senior with a lot on her plate.”

Aelin’s heart took off, beating faster as his words unfolded.

“Interview?”

“Yes,” he continued. “It’s my favorite part of the process. As a former Wendlyn man myself, I get to sit down and speak with young promising applicants to see what their goals and ambitions might be and how they might become part of the Wendlyn world.”

Aelin glanced at the silver-headed mop peeking out above the couch and exhaled slowly. This was it. The universe reassuring her. She felt it with every fiber of her being. She could dance, she could nail her classes this semester, and she’d get into Wendlyn and be with Rowan.

“Wow, thank you so much for reaching out,” Aelin began, her autopilot pilot voice taking over. “I’d love to meet with you.”

As Xavier explained the details of the interview, Aelin’s hope buoyed. She’d been waiting for a sign from the universe, something to tell her that she and Rowan were going to work out and be fine. If a personalized phone call on a landline that hadn’t rung in more months than she could count, inviting her into the home of a University alum wasn’t a sign, she didn’t know what was. And Aelin began to hope for the first time that everything was going to actually work out.

~*~

#idwtw #idwtw au #rowaelin #rowaelin fan fic #rowaelin fic #tog fanfic #throne of glass #rowan x aelin #she's backkkk #i stg i'm finishing this fic #no fic left unfinished

[goddess-aelin]

Feels Like Home

For @backtobl4ck for the Rowaelin Yulemas celebration/ Secret Santa. For the second year in a row, I once again had the pleasure to write something for Maria! I was so excited when I found out I had you because we both loveeeee fluff and friends to lovers. So I hope you love this little gift and have a very happy Yulemas :) @rowaelinscourt

Masterlist

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: none!

Her hands were everywhere. Her lips touched his softly as she breathily moaned at his ministrations between her thighs. Silky blonde locks brushed his face as he made his way down the side of her neck. He never tasted anything so sweet, so right. “Rowan. Rowan. Rowan.” Her voice got louder and louder as he laid her back on the cushions of his couch, muscles straining to reign in all the things he wanted to do to her. He had to do this right. Move slowly. This thing between them was as precious as the sun’s warmth. “Rowan. Ro.” Her voice changed cadence, suddenly closer and louder. “Ro!” 

A stinging sensation against his cheek woke him. Like lighting, he shot up, catching the arm of the person who slapped him. Once he registered where he was and what was happening, the first thing he noticed were the depthless blue and gold eyes of his best friend. His best friend. Aelin. Who he was in the middle of having a sex dream about.

Rowan could feel his face flush as he became more aware of his surroundings. He silently thanked the Gods that he chose to cover himself with a blanket for this particular nap. Otherwise, it would’ve been painfully obvious just exactly what he had been dreaming about. 

“Must’ve been some dream, huh? Since you didn’t wake up the first twenty times I called your name.” Aelin raised an eyebrow. “Sorry for the slap, though. I just didn’t know how else to wake you up.” Aelin gave him a devious smile. 

Rowan rubbed at the still stinging area on his left cheek. The good thing was that the slap hid any blush that might’ve remained on his face. “Sure you are, Fireheart.” She pouted slightly, giving him her best “but I’m innocent” look. “Wait, how did you even get in here?”

“You gave me a key, remember?”

“Yeah, for emergencies. Not to barge into my house at…” He checked his phone. “4:35pm on a Thursday afternoon.”

“This is an emergency, Ro.” 

He raised an eyebrow and silently commanded, explain.

“Well ok…you see, I have this cousin. His name is Galan. Well he’s sort of my cousin but he’s also not. Not in the sense that Aedion is my cousin. But he’s still sort of close family, ya know? And I got the invite a few weeks back and I hoped that I could find a date but I haven’t yet and I just really think that maybe it would be a fun time and there’s going to be good food-”

“Hold on. What the fuck are you talking about?” Rowan couldn’t keep the humor and huff of laughter out of his voice. Aelin tended to ramble when she was nervous. So obviously this was something she was nervous about. He gently took her hand. “Start again and take a deep breath this time.”

For once, she listened to him. After inhaling and exhaling deeply, she tried again. “My cousin, Galan. He’s getting married and I have a plus one. I can’t go alone because my mother will have a fit and that will make her and my aunts scheme like hell to set me up with one of the groomsmen. But I 100% do not want that. I know Galan’s friends and they’re all dumbasses. I love my cousin, but his groomsmen all make really stupid, idiotic decisions. So no, thank you. So I guess my question is, will you go with me? As my plus one?” 

Rowan took a moment to process the information. What are the odds that he would have a sex dream about his best friend right before she asked him to be her plus one to a wedding? He was treading dangerous territory and he wasn’t sure what to make of it.

He must’ve taken too long to answer because Aelin hastily said, “As friends, of course. And you’d get free food, booze, and a night of dancing. You get to dress up, which I know you hate but it’ll be fun! Plus, you’ll get to have the most beautiful, amazing, graceful date on your arm.” 

That shocked him out of his stupor. Rowan let out a cackle. “Modest, aren’t you?” 

“Modesty is my middle name.” 

Rowan hummed in mock agreement. “Yeah, I’ll go with you. It’ll be fun. A night away, drinking, eating great food, and getting to watch the bridal party get increasingly drunk as the night goes on? I’m in.” 

Aelin beamed but quickly bit her lip. He knew her too well to know that it wasn’t just a nervous tick. There was something else. Rowan narrowed his eyes.

“It’s also like five hours away in Varese so we need to rent a hotel for the night.” She looked apprehensive, as if this new information was going to make him change his mind and say no. 

“O..kay? We’ve been on vacations together before, Fireheart. What’s different this time?” 

She blew out a breath. “I don’t know. I just know you don’t like being the center of attention and I know that my mom and my aunts are going to be all over you like vultures. So I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into before saying yes.”

Rowan shrugged. “How bad can it be?”

- - - - -

Bad. The answer to his question from a few weeks ago was just that: it could be bad.  The date of the wedding crept up steadily, he and Aelin hammering out the details of their stay in Varese. Aelin, of course, insisted on coordinating colors for their outfits, which is how he found himself standing at the base of the stairs in the grand ballroom attached to their hotel in a black tux and emerald green bowtie, talking with Aedion while waiting for the two ladies to make their grand entrance. Aelin insisted on the emerald green to match his eyes. He really didn’t care either way, he just hoped he was able to reign in his budding feelings when he saw Aelin in what just so happened to be his favorite color. And that if he somehow did accidentally let some of his feelings show, that it wouldn’t make it awkward for when they got back to their hotel room.

Oh right, that. The other predicament he was in. 

Once he and Aelin arrived at the hotel that morning, they were surprised to find that not only did their room only have one bed, it also had one of the most romantic views of Varese, overlooking the river that flowed through the center of the city and its beautiful architecture. Aelin was quick to insist that she had nothing to do with this and that she ordered a double room. At the time, the wedding was only a few hours away and Aelin shoved him out of their room towards Aedion and Lysandra’s across the hall, stating that she needed to get ready and she couldn’t have his broody self in the room while she was doing so. So he and Lysandra had switched places, Aelin assuring him that they’d remedy the bed situation later. 

He and Aedion took a whopping total of ten minutes to get ready in comparison to Aelin and Lysandra’s two hours. Rowan’s foot started tapping of its own accord as the time ticked closer to the ceremony. If Aelin didn’t hurry her ass up- albeit her very, very nice ass- they were going to be late. 

He was cut off from his thoughts by the two sets of clacking heels on the marbled floor coming from the top of the stairs. It took one look at the thigh slit of Aelin’s dress for his mouth to dry up. Another glance at the way it hugged her hips for his body to go wholly still. And one final glance to her beautiful, glowing face for him to black out completely. 

He must’ve actually blacked out since, in what felt like a single moment, Aelin was standing right in front of him. Her emerald green dress matched his bowtie perfectly, of course, the gold accent of her minimal jewelry complimenting her eyes. She didn’t need baubles and gems to make her sparkle. She, just as she was now, was an ethereal being, glowing from an internal, unseen star. 

Rowan tried so hard; so, so, incredibly hard to will his mind to say something, anything. And yet, words escaped him. How could he ever put into words how beautiful she was, how much she meant to him? As saliva started making its way into the dry desert that was his mouth, all he could manage was a “Holy shit.”

Aelin’s laugh was like twinkling bells in his ear. “Back at ya, Buzzard. You look…very handsome.”

Was it just his imagination or did she sound…breathless? He couldn’t help but become aware of every place her eyes drifted to, like they were emitting invisible fire and burning him everywhere. His hand subconsciously came up to rub at the back of his hair, trying to smooth out anything that was out of place. “You’re being sarcastic, aren’t you?” He managed a small smirk. Or, he hoped he did.

Aelin’s eyes continued their unhurried perusal, mouth parting slightly and hand coming up to grab his own to stop him from messing up his hair even more. “No,” she breathed, “For once in my life, I’m not. I Promise.” Rowan could see her swallow hard.

Rowan had to take a deep gulp of air, otherwise he was sure he was going to pass out. Somewhere, deep inside of him, some air of confidence kicked in and gracefully allowed him to offer his arm for Aelin to take. Gently, she placed her hand in the crook of his elbow, both of them silently making their way to the doors where the ceremony would be held. As they neared the room, Rowan purposefully slowed them down, falling behind Aedion and Lysandra. “Fireheart,” he whispered. “You look…you look stunning. It’s what I wanted to say earlier but I couldn’t find the words.”

Rowan could have sworn a blush overtook her face. But she beamed up at him, giving him a sweet, shy smile. 

“Thank you.” He could feel more than see her sharp intake of breath. A breath to recenter and refocus. “Well, shall we, Buzzard?” Rowan nodded and steered them once again to the doors.  

An hour later, the ceremony was over and Rowan’s stomach was rumbling. Loudly. Seated next to Aelin, he knew she could hear it and she continued to sneak glances and little smirks at him. The hunger he could deal with. The sly glances from Aelin? Not so much. She had been driving him insane since she floated down those stairs and it was slowly but surely causing him to lose his cool. That would be if he ever had it in the first place.

And as the night went on, the torture only continued. Throughout dinner, her arm would brush his as she turned to talk to Lysandra next to her, her leg would tap against his own when she told a joke, and she would find any excuse to touch him as often as she could. In normal circumstances, he wouldn’t mind. But they were here as friends. And these touches were making him want much, much more than that. 

The only time he felt like he could breathe was when Aelin got up to dance with Lysandra to an upbeat pop song, leaving Rowan and Aedion sitting alone at their table to chat. Rowan had a few drinks already but he was nowhere near drunk. A nice buzz was flowing through him but he was still very much so in control of his actions.

At least, that’s what he thought until Aedion cleared his throat. Rowan broke his stare from Aelin’s sensuous dancing. Did she even know what she looked like to him? How much she was torturing him just by being herself? He wasn’t sure if she was aware. But Aedion sure as hell was. 

The blonde man gave him a knowing look and raised an eyebrow. Rowan just rolled his eyes and allowed his gaze to maneuver back to Aelin. He caught the moment when she threw her head back and laughed, the sound making his bones feel like they were both on fire and also a pile of mush. It was a feeling that he was unaccustomed to, having only felt anything of the sort with his high school girlfriend. But if that feeling was a good one, this one made him feel like he was flying. Made him feel a need so deep that he wasn’t sure he would ever recover. He needed every inch of her. Not only her body, but her soul, her smiles, her laughter, her tears. He wanted everything.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. 

Beside him, Aedion chuckled. “You’re only now just realizing it?”

Rowan could do nothing but stare at the table, knowing that if he looked at Aedion, his secretly harbored feelings would be completely out in the open for the other man to see. And if he looked up at Aelin, the same outcome. So yeah, he was fucked. 

“I know you’re having a complete crisis over being in love with her but I’m glad you finally figured it out. Took you long enough.” 

That made Rowan look toward the man sitting next to him, brows furrowed. 

“Yeah, we’ve all known this for ages. I feel like it was obvious to anyone with eyes, to be completely honest. Some of us even have a bet on how long it’ll take for you two to finally admit that you’re in love with each other.” 

  Rowan made to open his mouth with a denial but Aedion held up a hand. “Nope, dude. Save the bullshit. I know just by looking at you that you’re so far gone for her, it’s unreal. And I know that Aelin has never been as happy as when she’s with you. She never laughed this freely until she met you.” Aedion let out a small huff of breath. “You have my blessing.” 

Rowan just repeated his earlier statement. “Fuck.” 

Their conversation was interrupted by a breathless Aelin sitting in the seat to Aedion’s right, where she promptly picked up the half-full glass of wine and chugged it. 

“So what are you boys gossiping about over here that has poor Whitethorn all red in the face?”

Internally, Rowan was panicking. Aedion opened his mouth to say something that Rowan was sure to be snarky but before he could, Rowan blurted out, “birds!” 

The corners of Aelin’s mouth quirked up slightly. “Birds…?” Rowan could tell that she didn’t fully believe him but luckily, Aelin was already half drunk. He hoped she would just let it go. 

The first mistake Rowan made was making eye contact with her. She always had an uncanny ability to read him like an open book, despite most people not understanding him. As she narrowed her eyes, the part of their souls that has always been intertwined translated for him, as if to say, I don’t believe you and think you’re full of shit, Buzzard.

So Rowan sent his own thoughts back, I don’t know what you’re talking about, Fireheart. 

The second mistake was continuing to hold her gaze. Not because he gave anything away to her but rather because it prompted the man sitting in between them to throw his hands in the air and exclaim, “Oh no. Oh helllll no. This isn’t happening right in front of me.” Aedion quickly shoved his chair away from the table and got up to leave. Before walking away completely, he turned around and pointed right at the two of them. “I’m tired of this bullshit. You guys need to get it together and just fucking make out already. Gods.” And with his piece said, Aedion stalked away, directly to the bar where he knocked back a shot immediately. 

Rowan turned back to Aelin, whose eyes were wide and brows furrowed. 

“Umm, what just happened?”

The only thing Rowan could do was shrug. He sure as hell wasn’t going to lie to her but he wasn’t sure that he could outright confess his feelings, either. He was saved from deciding by the transition to a slower song, one he knew Aelin liked. As he looked back over at her, her eyes had drifted closed and her shoulders were swaying slightly, moving along to the lilting melody of the song. 

Rowan shoved his chair away from the table, extending his hand toward her. Blue eyes met his own and held his gaze with an intensity that could’ve set him on fire. “Dance with me, Fireheart.”

Aelin managed a small smile and took his hand, following him to the dance floor where Lysandra and Aedion and her parents were already coupled up and swaying back and forth. He gently guided her hand to rest at his shoulder, laying his own on her waist, and cradling her other to his chest. 

Looking down at her, he felt like he could do this forever. Her bright teal eyes were hazed with alcohol and something else, as if she felt content, safe. Slowly, she tilted her head so it rested on his chest. Of their own accord, Rowan’s lips gently placed a kiss to her hair, inhaling her sweet lemon verbena and lavender scent. Aelin always smelled so good. So…comforting. Like home.

Through the haze of their otherworldly bubble, Aelin murmured something. 

“Hmm?” he asked.

Pulling her head back, she answered him, “I said ‘are you going to tell me what that was back there at the table? With Aedion?”

He tensed, Aelin tensing along with him. “It was nothing, Aelin.”

She raised an eyebrow in protest. He knew she was disappointed. She could tell he was lying through his teeth. “It obviously wasn’t nothing. Just tell me. Did my mom say something? She and my aunts have been watching us all night like hawks.”

“Really, Fireheart...I…It’s nothing. Everything’s good.” He gave her a tight smile, hoping she would let it go and they could go back into their bubble. But, of course, this was Aelin. She tensed even further, pulling her hand off of his shoulder and making to pull away from him completely. But before she could walk away from him, he grabbed her hand and as gently as he could, pulled her back toward him. She was caught off guard, Rowan could easily tell that much. 

He slowly began to sway them back and forth again. Not caring about the eyes on them, he murmured “I’m not good at this.”

Aelin’s brows furrowed together. “At what?”

Rowan’s shoulders shrugged up and down of their own accord. “This. Talking about…about my feelings.”

Aelin’s head tilted in that way of hers that told him she was thinking. “And what about your feelings are you having a hard time with?”

“I’m not having a hard time with my feelings, I just…I can’t–” Rowan sighed. “For fuck’s sake.” It was at that moment, when Aelin was looking up at him with her eyes that could see everything, her beautiful mind that could work out any problem, that he grabbed her face. “Aelin–I love you. I’m in love with you.” Rowan felt as if his heart was going to beat out of his chest, his breathing so ragged as he waited in anticipation for what she would say back. But the answer didn’t come after a few seconds. And then it didn’t come after a few more. Aelin just stood there, wide-eyed and mouth opening and closing as if she couldn’t find the words, either. And bit-by-bit, Rowan was beginning to give up hope. 

   Slowly, he loosened his grip on her face, meaning to step back and give her space. But before he could pull away completely, Aelin threw her arms around his neck, dragging his head down forcefully and attaching her lips to his own. If he was being honest, it was probably the least romantic kiss he’d ever experienced but it didn’t matter one bit because it was Aelin. 

The kiss was over before it started and Aelin pulled back slightly. Just enough to murmur, “I love you, too, Buzzard.” 

He couldn’t help the smile that overtook his face. Properly this time, he held her face between his hands and brought her mouth back to his. This kiss was entirely different from the first. Gone was the urgency and desperation and in its place was genuine love and devotion. Would he ever get enough of this? He could’ve died in her kiss a happy man right at that moment. But he hoped that he would get many more chances to experience Aelin in all her glory.

Cheers and clapping broke them out of their reverie, startling them both back into reality. Rowan assumed it was cheering for Galan and his wife but as Rowan’s gaze roamed over the crowd, they all seemed to be watching…him. Aelin’s mother was at the head of her sisters, all five of the Ashryver sisters looking toward him and Aelin. All with smirks on their face. He could’ve sworn he heard a few swoony sighs as he and Aelin made their way back to their seats, faces aflame. 

Once seated, Aelin leaned in close, putting her hand dangerously high on his thigh. “Well, I’d say it’s not such a bad thing that our room only has one bed, wouldn’t you Buzzard?” 

Rowan narrowed his eyes. “Did you plan this, Fireheart?” 

Aelin shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. Who could ever know.” Rowan pinched her side, making her giggle. “I will say, though, that my wheels might have started turning the moment I walked in on you having a nice little smutty dream about me.”

Rowan gaped. “Wh-what?!”

Aelin shot him an answering smirk. “Oh yeah, did you think I didn’t know? You were literally moaning my name in your sleep. How else was I supposed to take that? Unless there’s another Aelin in your life, which, if that’s the case, excuse me, I’ll let you two be alone.” She feigned getting up from the table but he pulled her right back down, bringing her face close to his. 

“And so what if I was, Fireheart?” He murmured in her ear. He both saw and felt the shiver that made its way down her body. 

“Then, Buzzard, I’d say its a very good thing that our room has a king bed.” While his blood heated at her promise, he couldn’t help but think that this was the start of something amazing. Something that felt like home.

Tagging:

@cretaceous-therapod @morganofthewildfire @tomtenadia @live-the-fangirl-life @charlizeed @violet-mermaid7 @euphoric-melancholyy @kritical24 @rubyriveraqueen @dealfea @wellofnothing @ayaashryver @moonknight-spector @leiawritesstories @whoever-you-choose-to-love @holdthefrickup @heirofflowers @thecrispypotatochip @shanias-world @rowanaelinn @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity @hanging-from-a-cliff @fantacysoup @swankii-art-teacher @thegreyj @fromthelibraryofemilyj @westofmoon @lovely-dove-zee @books4eva04 @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @backtobl4ck @dreamer-133 @elentiyawhitethorn @writtenonreceipts @shyvioletcat @aelinchocolatelover @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @athena127 @tothestarsandwhateverend @highqueenofelfhame

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin fic #throne of glass #tog #throne of glass fanfiction #rowaelin au #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #my fics #my fic #rowaelin secret Santa

[highqueenofelfhame]

playlist // book cover

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#call it what you want #ciwyw #rowaelin #tog #throne of glass #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #ciwyw masterlist #throne of glass fanfic #rowaelin fic #baby fic #rowaelin baby fic #accidental pregnancy au #soccer!rowan #rowaelin au #modern au #throne of glass fanfiction

[leiawritesstories]

A Memory of Your Love

Rowaelin Month, Day 19: Telling the kids about their tattoos

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: none, it's sappy melty fluffy goodness (i swear)

Enjoy!

@rowaelinscourt

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

“Mama.” The small voice was accompanied by a series of rapid knocks on Aelin’s partially-open office door. “Are you very busy, Mama? Da said you’d be busy.” 

Aelin set down her quill and turned away from her desk, finding her second child, her son, poking his head through the crack in her door. “No, my boy, I’m not busy.” She stood, digging one hand into the small of her back–gods, sitting down for too long was terrible for her spine–walked over, and opened the door. “Come in, Bran. What do you need?” 

Bran–Prince Brannon Whitethorn Galathynius–shuffled into the office, uncharacteristically quiet and shy. Normally, he was the most vivacious of the royal children, always with a laugh on his lips and a prank brewing in his mischievous mind. He got that from his mother. “I want to practice with the knives,” he said slowly, haltingly. 

Aelin nodded. “And do you need someone to go with you?”

Sheepishly, he nodded. “Yeah. Da said I can’t be there alone, not yet.” 

“Not yet,” she agreed. “When you’re a little more comfortable with the blade work, or maybe when you’re a little older, then you can go alone. Just not yet.” 

He frowned. “Why not? All the other boys my age go out into the yard by themselves.” 

“Ah, but they’re with each other, no?” 

“Uh…yeeeeees?” 

“That’s right, my son.” Aelin cracked a grin at her son’s slight flush. “You’re welcome to train with them, you know.” 

“Don’t want to,” he mumbled. “I’m not good enough.” 

“Now that’s just horseshit,” she scoffed. 

In her mind, Rowan flinched. Fireheart!

What? she snarked. You know he’s heard worse from those hulking brutes you call friends. “Bran, you are good enough. They aren’t going to make fun of you.” She ruffled his hair affectionately. “Yes, I’ll go practice with you.” She winked. “Anything to sneak away from the boring paperwork.”

That made him snicker. “Are you going to make Da do the paperwork, then?” 

“Maybe.” She led him out of her office and down towards the training yard. “It’s good for him to pretend like he has responsibilities every once in a while.” 

I heard that.

I know. She blew her grumpy buzzard an invisible kiss. 

Bran was at the door to the training yard. “Come on, Mama!”

“Just a minute,” she laughed. “I can’t train in this dress, it’s too frilly.” She ducked into a side room and changed into a loose, comfortable tunic and pants. “All right, I’m ready.”

“Come on!” Bran pushed open the door and bounded out into the training yard, running for the fenced-off area used for knifeplay. “I beat you, Mama!” 

“You did,” she laughed, catching up with him. “I must be getting old.” 

~

For a good hour, she sparred against her son, working with him on his form and his technique, especially taking a chunk of time to show him how to throw a knife. Bran had been wanting to learn that skill for a while, and she decided he was ready, no matter what his overprotective father and uncles thought. 

Bran drew a deep breath, locked his turquoise eyes on the target, exhaled, and released the knife. It sliced through the air and embedded itself in the ring just outside the bulls-eye. “I did it!” he screeched, jumping up and down in thrilled excitement. “I did it, Mama!” 

“You certainly did,” she praised. “I don’t think I could have done any better.” 

He beamed. “Dare you, Mama!” 

“Oh do you, now?” Challenge sparked in her bright eyes. “Stand back, B. I don’t want to hurt you.” She took her mark on the chalked line, inhaled, locked her eyes on her target, tipped her arm back, and launched her blade. Her tunic slipped, partially exposing her shoulder–perils of wearing her mate’s clothing rather than her own–but her knife flew straight down its intended path and buried itself right next to Bran’s knife with a thunk. “How’s that, Your Highness?” she teased. 

Bran sprinted over to check the target and came back with the biggest, brightest smile plastered all over his face. “Mine was closer!” 

“No!” Aelin exclaimed in contrived shock. “I really am losing my touch!” She grinned down at her son. “Congratulations, Bran, you’ve just out-thrown your queen.” 

His attention flicked from the target to his mother and back again, a question creasing his forehead. 

She knelt and met his eye level. “What is it, my son?” 

“Your tattoo,” he said, unexpectedly. “I know you have one, I just…it looks like wings. Why is it wings, Mama? Shouldn’t it be fire?” 

Aelin was quiet, thinking through how much to say. I can’t just brush him off.

No. We knew we would have to tell them eventually.

Right. Just…how much?

As much as you want. Rowan sent reassurance pulsing down the bond. We can talk to him and Lana later tonight, both of us.

I’d like that. With Rowan’s strength at her back, she took Bran’s hands. “Da did it for me.” 

His childish face lit up with interest and wonder. “When?” 

“Before…” She trailed off, her gaze going distant for a moment. “Before we settled. Before you and Lana were even thoughts in our minds.” She noticed his furrowed brow, and she squeezed his hands in comfort. “Da and I are going to tell you and your sister about it later tonight, because you’re old enough and you deserve to know more of our story. I’m not dismissing you, I promise; you just need to wait for a little longer, okay?” 

Slowly, he nodded. “Okay,” he replied. “Can I ask you one more thing?” 

“Of course.” 

“Did it hurt?” 

“Some,” she said, honestly. “But your father was with me, and that made it easier.” 

~

Rowan wore a sleeveless shirt to dinner that night, the soft gray linen exposing the defined grooves of his muscles and the full breadth of the script inked down his arm. Aelin chose a dress that dipped low in the back, low enough to display the wings unfurled across her shoulder blades. She frowned as she laced the silken material up the side–it was almost at the point where she couldn’t wear it in public, else it would reveal too much. Just to be sure, she turned to the side and checked her profile, relieved when her reflection showed that the skirt still billowed out high enough to conceal the swelling of her abdomen. 

Stunning. Her husband padded up behind her on near-silent feet, slid his powerful arms tenderly around her waist. His tattooed hand splayed over her stomach. “How much longer?” 

“Another few weeks before we tell the children.” She laid her hand over his. “At least a month before anyone else even suspects.” Lest we…lose them.

“Of course.” Rowan dipped his head and brushed a whisper of a kiss across her pulse point. I love you, he murmured into her soul. 

Aelin melted into him. As I love you. 

Lana and Bran were full of anticipation and eager chatter at dinner, both children more than willing to ramble on about their days. Bran seemed to be back to his usual mischievous self, busily flicking tiny crumbs and a pea or two at his sister when he thought nobody was watching. Lana returned the favor by gradually increasing the heat of her brother’s chair, silverware, and even clothes, making him squirm in mild discomfort and drop his fork with a yelp when he picked it up and it nearly burned him. 

Unsurprisingly, though, when dinner was over and they moved into the small, cozy, private living room reserved exclusively for the family, both Lana and Bran went quiet, settling down onto the small sofa and watching their parents expectantly. 

Aelin settled into her chair and spoke first. “So you want to know about our tattoos.” 

“Mhmm.” Lana nodded. “Well, I know about Father’s. Mostly.” 

“Do you?” Rowan wore a half-grin. 

“Uncle Lorcan told me it’s a record of your life and a memory of your love.” 

“Uncle Lorcan talks too damn much.” 

Aelin snickered. “Admit it, buzzard, that was a very lovely description.” 

Rowan grumbled. “Fine. Lorcan can be civil once in a while.” He nodded. “Yes, that’s the most basic description of my tattoos.” 

“You did them yourself, right?” Bran asked. 

“Mostly. Gavriel helped, a little.” 

Bran tilted his head. “And you did Mama’s?” 

“He did,” Aelin confirmed. “Both times.” 

“Both times?” Lana and Bran chorused, wearing twin expressions of disbelief. 

“Both times.” Aelin shared a long, laden look with Rowan. “This set–” she turned around and let her children see the full expanse of the ink scripted across her back–“was done just before we kicked the shit out of the Valg once and for all.” 

“Language,” Rowan sighed, teasingly. 

Aelin huffed a laugh. “Says you. Like your father’s, my tattoos are my story. All of it–who I once was, who I became, who I am now.” She whispered under her breath, and two of the symbols glowed blue for a few seconds. “Those are your names, my loves, in the Old Language.” 

“That’s us?” Lana breathed, both awe and tears clogging her words. 

“That’s you,” Aelin murmured. “Your idiot father also wrote a whole entire spell into my tattoo–didn’t even think to tell me, oh no–in yet another language.” 

“It was a protective measure!” Rowan protested. “And it worked, didn’t it?” 

“Oh, all right, it did.” She laced her fingers with his. “Your father is boring; all his tattoos are just Old Language.” 

“Can you read them?” Bran asked. 

“I can.” A yearning smile curved Rowan’s lips. “It’s been a very long time since I spoke the Old Language, but I can read it, yes.” 

“What’s this one?” Lana pointed to a sequence of characters on Rowan’s bicep. “It repeats a lot. There, and on your forearm, and on your neck, too.” The firstborn Whitethorn Galathynius always had been perceptive. 

“It says Fireheart,” Rowan murmured. 

A crooked little smile lit Lana’s face. “That’s…extremely sappy of you, Father. Aren’t you supposed to be the hardened old warrior?” 

Aelin burst into laughter. “Oh, my daughter,” she wheezed. “Never change, Lana love.” 

“I’m trying very hard to be unimpressed,” Rowan intoned, his lips twitching with the effort of holding back his merriment. 

Lana giggled. “We’re all thinking it.” 

Rowan laughed. “I suppose we all are.” 

Bran’s smaller hands touched the ink spiraling up his father’s arm. “When I grow up, I want tattoos too!” he declared. 

Aelin and Rowan shared a very long look. 

“Maybe you will have tattoos,” Aelin told her son, running her thumb over his knuckles. “If you do, know that you carry the weight of every name and event written into your skin.”

“Even the ones that hurt?” 

“Especially those ones.” Aelin gathered her children close. “It is the weight of the people we have loved and lost that guide us through life. They are always with us, even when they fade.”

#my writing #rowaelin month #rowaelin month 2023 #rowaelinmonth #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #rowaelin and kiddos #rowaelin family fic #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin au #canonverse #surprise surprise it's canonverse lol

[aelinschild]

Paradigm; side by side

˙✧˖ March 1st: Morning

Main Masterlist | Paradigm; side by side Masterlist |

SYNOPSIS: Storms often come after the sun. WORDCOUNT: 620 WARNINGS: none!

Huge thank you to @throneofglassmicrofics for organizing! Make sure to check out other works over on their account!

There was a lulling of delayed movement, calm strokes repeated endlessly. 

Just outside of the rolled-down window, wind passing by in a gentle caress. Twisting and twining her hair, braiding it together by the hand of nature. Glaring off the water and reflected in burnished irises. The sun had only begun its slow trek across the sky.

Great strokes of pinks and oranges, bright as a summer garden. Weaving in, out, around clouds heavy from a misty evening. 

Her fingers tapped a unconscious beat on the steering wheel, gold heirloom rings clicking gently. Warmed from the heat of the blood pulsing under fair skin; soaking up the dregs of sunlight as it passes through her car. 

Aelin was less nervous now than she was at the beginning of her trip. Setting off before her sleeping city rose, closing doors and locking them with a finality that shook her hands. Counting steps, breaths, blinks. Everything that she was, left on the cold pavement. Watching in acquiescence, cool indifference behind it. 

The heat of the now rising sun warmed the piece of her she had forgotten of. 

From her last stop on the great stretch of highway, she could estimate the time to her destination. Minutes, now. A map highlighted with cherished stationary sat beside her, a companion in spirit. Alongside the rest of her worldly possessions, sprawling from the small space of the boot. 

Time was passing differently, like shedding the weight of a clocks hand, replacing it with a shadow. Flowing naturally, unhurried in all aspects. There was no urge to choke the seconds out, to pause the current to admire the sea. Aelin felt the change in her bones, just as the scene from her fantasies appeared.

A cottage by the sea. 

Two weeks ago, there was an explicit end. She had to be out, out, out. Her small apartment in the city was no longer hers, the lease trickling away, exchanging her for someone new. She had nowhere to go. That was until she found Rowan. 

The advert was… unfortunate. Lacked the geniality one would assume came with a seaside cottage. Each picture was slightly askew, just a fraction off its axis. Snapped like an afterthought. Described in clinical terms; two bedroom, two bathroom, small kitchen, and good outdoor space. 

The woman – Rowan – was kind enough. The rent was shockingly economical. A deal far too good to be true, Aelin had thought. No chance this was really an opportunity that had just… appeared for her. So, she had sought out the catch. 

But, there was none.

Rowan had been straightforward in her communication, expectations, and dealings. And days later Aelin had boxed her life away, tucked into a rusting car. Enough cash for the first few months of rent, and a box of pastries and some wildflowers as a thank-you gift. 

Stood before the seafoam coloured front door, surrounded by a weather worn wrap-around porch, her mind wandered. Imagining herself out here, sat under the sky as it danced through its emotive number. Scribbling away in notebooks, listening to the ruffle of the grass. Living in step with a mighty beast, watching its crawl up the surf. Following its retreat.

Too good to be true. 

She had knocked, had texted an hour ago that she would be on the final leg of the journey. Hand clasped soundly around the wildflowers, the smell of jam scones. The pitter-patter of footsteps rose. They sounded… heavier? 

Just as Aelin had moved to peer into the open window, curtains pushed back, seafoam shifted to cotton, shifted to a man. 

“Aelin,” He spoke, voice like a storm crashing on the rocks of a forsaken shore, “You’re earlier than I had expected. Come in.”

Taglist: @mariaofdoranelle , @goddess-aelin

Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist!

#throne of glass microfics #rowaelin #throne of glass #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin fanfiction #aelin x rowan #aelin galythinius #rowan x aelin #rowaelin au #throne of glass fic #sarah j maas #sjmaas #sjm #aelinschild

[mariaofdoranelle]

Look at Us Now - Ch. 1

Fic masterlist

Oh, hi, guys! Welcome to my new hyper fixation!! *fireworks* *champagne glasses* *me smiling like a maniac*

I really hope you like this new au! My other ones are still in progress, I’m just really excited about this lol

Warnings: cursing, mentions of drinking, mentions of sketchy cigars, mentions of a fistfight, mentions of a sprained ankle, promises of smutty times

Words: 3,3k

This party was falling apart. Literally.

Uncle Orlon thought it was a good idea to bring Aelin to this year's Aviator's Ball, so she could meet her future bosses with a little less pressure. At first, it was all fancy uniforms, expensive drinks and small talk. Now that it was past midnight, some of the older officers with the highest ranks had left—Like Orlon and Darrow—, a drunk major knocked down a massive flower arrangement, and the guy Aelin was flirting with had offered her a very sketchy-looking cigar, which she politely declined.

When two lieutenants started a fistfight, Aelin knew it was time to go.

She speed walked through the crowd of people, and even bumped her shoulder against the party planner's, who was going toward the brawl. The poor girl.

When she finally stepped outside, it felt like she could finally breathe.

"Staying out of trouble?" A deep voice asked her. Aelin looked around until she found an officer leaning on the side of the stairs that led to the garden. With his face lit up by the moonlight and eyes sparkling as they studied each other, he was breathtaking. Or at least that was Aelin's first thought when she saw him.

Aelin walked towards him. Staying out of trouble was Uncle Orlon's only request, but she also didn't want to look bad in front of her future bosses and future coworkers. That sounded like a suicide mission.

"Seems like that's what you're doing."

The hot officer chuckled. "Turns out being locked up becomes really easy when you're in the military. Specially when you make yourself some unruly friends."

"Have you ever been to the guardhouse?"

"Fuck, no."

She leaned against the wall on his side and shook his hand. "I'm Aelin."

"Rowan."

Turning fully towards him, she flipped her hair back a little to expose her shoulders and cleavage. "It's really hot in here, isn't it?"

Rowan got sidetracked by her exposed skin for a millisecond, then his eyes snapped back to hers. "You think so?"

"I know so, and I think it's because of—"

"Global warming, I know. God, this city gets hotter each year."

"What?"

He tilted his head. "You don't agree? This city's weather is hell."

Aelin clamped her lips together and tried not to laugh, even though her shoulders were shaking already. "I was going to land a pickup line, Rowan."

"Oh." He blushed, and it was the most adorable thing. "I thought we were talking about carbon monoxide."

Aelin chuckled. "Well, you ruined my pickup line now."

"My roommate teaches me a lot of those, but I won't use them."

"Why?"

Rowan leaned sideways on the wall and smirked. "Because I'm not trying to pick you up, I'm feeling like pinning you down instead."

She looked up, gaping. Aelin could kill that blunt, sassy grin of his. Or kiss it. God, she really wanted to kiss him now. Since he noticed her minutes ago, actually.

It was beautiful, how that smirk melted as his eyes darkened. The fabric of his uniform under her fingertips and Aelin's hands going up until they reached the lapels and clenched.

With both hands on her waist, Rowan was already one breath away from her when he closed their lips together with small, tentative brushes. At least until Aelin closed her arms around his neck and almost crushed their faces together, deepening the kiss.

His hands were everywhere. Her hips, her waist, toying with the straps of her dress. All that clashing and flicking and grabbing was making her heartbeat go wild. When it became too much, Rowan grabbed her upper arms and mentioned to lean away, but Aelin gently bit his lower lip to stop him.

Stay here, she conveyed.

He gave her small, gentle kisses and rested his forehead against hers, both heavily breathing against each other.

"You're not someone's wife, right?"

"What?" she breathed. Aelin's mind was still foggy from the kiss, she must've heard the wrong thing.

He swallowed and slid his hand down her arms, squeezing her fingers at the end. "That's why Fenrys got into a fistfight at the party. He made out with another officer's wife."

Aelin leaned away to properly look at his face, trying to understand what was going on. First, who the hell is Fenrys? Second, did he just stop their kiss to ask if she was married? Because he was avoiding a fistfight?

She sighed. You know what, that was fair.

Shaking her head, Aelin wiggled all her ringless fingers.

His eyes assessed her lack of uniform. "Someone's daughter, then. I think that's even worse."

A troublesome smirk was her only answer. Well, she was someone's great-niece, but it became almost the same if she considered Orlon raised Aelin since she was eight.

Looking up, Rowan cursed under his breath. Probably calculating his chances of being punished for this if her date—Brigadier Galathynius, not that he knew it—discovered. Proving her theory right, he asked, "They outrank me, right?"

Aelin raised her eyebrows. "You want to fuck me or not?"

"What?" His eyes widened, then he flinched. "Fuck, sorry, babe." He trailed kisses from her jaw to her lips, tugging her closer by the waist.

She hummed. That was much better.

"Do you want to leave before this party burns itself to the ground?" He whispered in her ear.

She chuckled. "Sure."

They were silently walking wherever he was leading her. One-night stands were so awkward sometimes, but Aelin was feeling good about this one. There was something comforting about Rowan, but she was failing to point what exactly. At one point, their hands accidentally grazed, but he kept them there and slowly intertwined their fingers.

Aelin hid a grimace when she saw his car, though. "I live in the village." She pointed in the direction of one of the military villages they had close by. "We can go by foot."

"You think I'd drink in front of all my bosses?"

He had a good point. It seemed like he was the only officer who cared, though. She had no idea how he understood her concerns so quickly, but Aelin didn't want to think too hard on this.

"I thought you should know I just moved in and my house is... lacking." He scratched the back of his head. "If you don't mind."

"Oh." She tilted her head. "We can go to my place, if you think that's better."

His shoulders dropped in relief. "You're sure it won't cause trouble?"

"I know my way around those security cameras." Aelin waved him off and leaned her side on his car. "But I still need to know what's lacking in your house."

Rowan's cheeks went crimson in a heartbeat. "I have a bed, it just hasn't arrived yet."

Aelin started cackling, her body trembling with laughter as he stared at her with the corners of his lips tugging up.

"I physically have a matteress, though!" He yelled over her laughter and opened the car, "And a great wall."

Things got quieter inside the car, so it was Aelin's cue to update her boyfriend, who was a little back and forth between Doranelle and Rifthold these days. He never told her about his one-night stands, which she didn't mind, but it felt wrong to sleep with someone without telling him.

Aelin: found myself a hot officer for the night

Aelin: we're going to my place

Dorian: how hot is he

Aelin: 8,5 maybe?

Such a horrendous lie. Aelin never graded her boy toys above 9 because she felt better if only her actual boyfriend was a 10. Truth was, if Dorian is a 10, Rowan is at least a 12. Actually, he was so handsome it made a lot of sense grading him above maximum score.

Dorian: nice

Dorian: have fun babe x

Rowan cleared his throat when they arrived at the village. Quickly tucking her phone back inside her purse, Aelin gave the directions of her house and made him park two houses before.

They silently walked together, until she stopped him on the border between her house and the neighbor's.

"I'm assuming you don't want to get caught by the cameras, since you're so scared of my uncle."

His eyes sparkled now that she satisfied his curiosity. Or maybe made it worse. There was no way to know. "An uncle, then." Rowan raised his eyebrows. "I'm not scared of him, but it would be nice if you could assure me he won't put me in the guardhouse for this."

Aelin snorted. Orlon couldn't hurt a fly if he wanted to, and even Darrow was a huge softie inside. But just the thought of sneaking out a little with her hot officer sent a thrill down her spine, so she kept her mouth shut.

"This wall we're in, it's a blind spot." When Aelin looked at Rowan, he was the most focused she'd seen tonight. An airman ready for battle. "We'll follow that path until we reach the porch, then we climb on the first window. It's my cousin's room, but he doesn't live here anymore. Then I'll check if the coast is clear, and my room is the one right next to it. Got it?"

Rowan nodded, eyes still calculating their path.

"It's the only way to get inside without getting caught on camera," Aelin added.

"This sounds like my training."

Aelin made eye contact, her chest a little more thrusted out than before. "Is the reward as good?"

"Not really, no," he muttered, his eyes on her lips.

"Well, you'll have to work for it, Officer," she said before tugging his arm towards the low fence they needed to climb.

~~

From the moment Aelin decided she wanted to become a doctor, she knew she'd work at the Air Force General Hospital.

This was the place she came to get her first casket when she was nine, after falling from her rollerskates. The place Aelin reached for when she got a little too drunk at seventeen, and made Aedion flirt with the doctor so she wouldn't snitch on them to Uncle Orlon. She was comfortable there. It felt familiar.

During those early daydreams about her own life, Aelin never thought about the moments she'd wish she worked somewhere else, though. They were nothing more than fleeting thoughts, she loved her job. But they still happened on days like this.

When Aelin opened the X-ray images on her computer, the boy's ankle didn't seem to be broken. One small blessing.

His eyes went wide when she told him so. "But it feels like it is."

Aelin gave him a sympathetic smile. "It's just a sprain, but I'll prescribe you some painkillers and—"

"Good, now we can go back to training," his instructor interrupted.

A death glare was Aelin's only response before she continued, "And I need you to rest that feet for two days—"

"Absolutely not!" The unwanted instructor cut in again, making the boy freeze on his seat. "What's the point of painkillers if he can't even exercise?"

"Captain Whitethorn," she hissed, "I believe I am the doctor here."

He slowly turned to that terrified boy. "Do you mind giving the doctor and I a moment to speak?"

"No." Aelin got up before he could. "Captain Whitethorn and I can talk in another room." She pointed at his swollen ankle. "You rest that feet."

Rowan followed her to an empty room two doors down, and they closed the door, it was like... It was like every other day, actually.

"You." He pointed a finger at her. "Do not question my authority in front of my students, Lieutenant."

"And you." She pointed a finger back. "Do not question my authorithy as a doctor in front of my patients, asshole."

"I was not trying to—"

"Yes, you were!" Aelin screamed this time. "Every day, you question what, when, how—"

"Well, maybe I wouldn't need to question if you just—"

"If I just what?" She opened her arms, tired of this. "If I just acted exactly like you?"

Rowan just stared at her with that intense look of his.

Aelin took a deep breath. She wouldn't put sense in Rowan's head by screaming. She never did.

"Luca—"

He raised his eyebrows. "Seriously? You're trying to guilt trip me by using his first name?"

"It's his first week here, and he's already in the hospital, Rowan! He's a teenage boy! He's someone's kid!" Aelin yelled, her tone increasing with each argument.

"Don't you even think about mentioning my daughter! He's the one who enlisted. I'm just doing my job."

She sighed. "I know you are, but your teaching techniques..."

He scoffed. "Don't act like you didn't love my teaching techniques back then."

"Fuck you!"

There were two loud bangs in the door before Aelin's tiniest, angriest co-worker barged in.

"You two." Elide's finger darted between them before she continued. "Seriously? Again?"

Rowan didn't dare point out that he was being talked down by someone with a lower rank than his. He knew better than to argue with Elide.

She continued, "I'm going to discharge your patient, and you two are leaving. Now."

Aelin looked at her watch. Fuck, they needed to rush if they didn't want to be late.

She turned to Rowan. "I'll be in the car in 5." And stopped. Aelin slowly turned to Elide and said, "Tell the patient that Captain Whitethorn told him to go home and come back in two days."

Rowan clenched his jaw, arms already crossed, but said nothing. He knew he had no chance with Aelin and Elide together.

The drive was pretty silent after that, but not exactly comfortable. She knew their fight hadn't ended yet, but it had to for now. They needed to look composed for this.

They heard the deafening sound of children screaming before the car could park at the Air Force school, made specially for the children of the Air Force personnel. It wasn't one of those fancy Montessori schools with hyper-specialized teachers, but it was a good school right next to the village they lived in. It was the best choice for them.

Rowan didn't think so. And he always let her know that, from big arguments to the classic arms-crossed-and-narrowed-eyes thing he was doing now.

She wouldn’t acknowledge his dissatisfaction now, though. They walked together until the pre-K area, which was separated from the big kids', and it took no time at all until a soft set of limbs wrapped themselves around her legs.

Aelin crouched down to talk to her daughter and adjust that messy hair, taking it out of the front of her gorgeous deep green eyes, when Maisie's jaw fell. And she shrieked.

"DADDY!" Was the only thing she screamed before jumping on Rowan's arms, always ready to catch her. "You said you couldn't pick me up today."

Maisie's hair was completely her own, Aelin noticed as her daughter had her back turned at her, on her dad's arms. Not as pale as Rowan's, not as golden as Aelin's. She had Aelin's nose but, apart from that, Maisie looked like a small Rowan Whithethorn with chubby cheeks.

She was just waiting for her face to be right next to his and... yep, there it is. Copy, paste, add childish features. Genetics sounded a lot simpler than what she studied in college while looking at those two.

Rowan was spinning her around, and Mai's squeals of delight were almost deafning. For the first time since seeing Rowan today, Aelin felt like smiling.

They had conflicts, yes, but Aelin couldn't deny that he was a great dad. She had never resented Rowan for being the parent with the stronger genes, or Maisie for being so much like her father. On the contrary. She even thought it was cute, especially when she saw her daughter's little frown or her shy demeanor with strangers. Maisie's a Whitethorn through and through, or so Rowan's family point out every time they meet.

"How was your day, hun?" Aelin asked on the walk back to the car while brushing her little girl's hair back with her hand.

"I got the littlest, babiest grapes today." She stopped in the middle of the parking lot and opened the lunchbox. "Look!"

Inspecting it, Aelin noticed Maisie's littlest, babiest grapes looked like a car ran them over. "What happened to them?"

She took the lunchbox back and frowned. "I don't know. I slept with them at nap time to protect them, but it didn't work out."

Aelin's lips were clamped together, trying hard not to laugh. That little girl probably squished the poor grapes to death. Rowan seemed to think the same, from the way the corners of his lips were tugging up. Noticing Aelin's stare, he gave her a small smile while ruffling their daughter's hair. She quickly looked away.

They never picked her up together when Maisie was in daycare, but they were doing it as an encouragement now that she was still adapting to preschool.

She always missed one parent while in another's house, even if she spent no more than three days in each house and had daily goodnight calls. Every morning was a different meltdown because she says she doesn't like school, so promising Maisie that both parents would pick her up was a good way to stop a tantrum. Some days, at least.

Their daughter was asleep in the car seat, exhausted from preschooler life, so they kept quiet while Aelin drove Rowan back to base for his night class.

"I'll call you," was the only thing he said. Not goodbye or thank you for the ride.

Aelin knew she meant he'd call Maisie for their goodnight call, but she took the bait anyway. "No, you'll call Maisie."

Rowan pinched the bridge of his nose, and Aelin could feel her body go tense again. He was the one annoyed, really?

"I don't understand why we keep having the same conversation over and over."

"Me neither, is that so hard to stop calling me and use the f—" she glanced at Maisie, still asleep. "Fucking parenting app?" Aelin whispered.

"You know what?" He leaned closer to her, hand resting on the car panel. "It is. I hate that app."

"I. Don't. Care. I can't have you calling me several times a day to ask stupid shit like if I packed Maisie's lunch."

Rowan frowned. "That kind of comment isn't helping, Aelin. In fact, it makes me even more concerned."

Was he implying that Aelin didn't care?

Heat flushed through her whole body as she saw red. "Get out of my car."

He didn't.

"Now!" Aelin whisper-yelled, still trying not to wake Maisie up. "Don't you have a student to screw or something?"

Rowan's eyes widened, and every feature of his face slowly started looking consumed by rage. From his glare to his reddened face.

He held back, though.

"You know what?" Rowan unfastened his seatbelt. "I can't talk to you when you're like this."

"Great." Aelin knew she had gone too far. She'd think about it the day she actually cared.

"And I'll call you as many times a day I want whenever you're with my daughter."

He got out and slammed the car door.

Rowan's body went taut at the same time Aelin flinched. They both knew what was happening now.

"Mommy, where's Daddy going?" Their daughter asked a moment later, rubbing her eyes.

Maisie's lips started wobbling the second she noticed Rowan was leaving, and she was wailing even before he could get into the backseat to soothe her. He kept saying that he'd see her at their goodnight call later and tomorrow at the pickup again, but nothing seemed to work.

Resting her head on the steering wheel and taking a deep breath, Aelin tried to think of something. The best bribes were always ice cream or more screen time. She needed to pick her weapons wisely.

@aelinchocolatelover

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@courtofjurdan

@dreamer-133

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#rowaelin #throne of glass #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass fanfic #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #aelin x rowan #rowan x aelin #throne of glass fic #aelin and rowan #tog au #look at us now

[live-the-fangirl-life]

Timeless [Immortals]

Aelin Galathynius x Rowan Whitethorn

The world is large and time may be endless, but it's all an exciting adventure with the right person beside you. Inspired in part by Timeless by Taylor Swift, Immortals by Fall Out Boy, and by my own historical research fixations. Also a tiny bit of Istanbul by They Might be Giants

A/N: I will say I wanted to flesh this out a bit more and had a whole plan on how to, but I started a new job recently and I haven't had the energy to keep writing during my free time, so I edited what I had and have it here for you to enjoy. I also wanted to write for a bunch of Rowaelin month days but I think this is all I have in me for now.

Finally, I just have a fair warning: I got really into slang words in this. i had way too much fun with them, so hopefully its understandable lol

Masterlist | Rowaelin Month | Read on Ao3

6494 words

Written for Rowaelin Month 2023 - Day 1: SongFic

*******

Morning light peeked through the curtains fluttering around the open window of their living room. She could faintly hear the sounds of the neighborhood filtering through – cars cruising by, a riding lawnmower cutting clean lines into the grass, a couple of kids out riding their bicycles, and the steadily growing music of an ice cream truck. 

“Rowan, have you seen the…” Aelin trailed off as she realized her husband wasn’t in the room with her anymore.

He chose to go by his given name nowadays, reminding her again of their youth and all the best parts about learning how to grow up before the reality of time set in.

She was sitting cross-legged on the plush rug, combing through a box of mementos she’d found tucked away between stacks of old books.

She must’ve been more distracted by them than she had thought because when she looked at the clock, nearly two hours had gone by and Rowan, who had been sitting in the armchair across from her, wasn’t there anymore. She did have a vague memory of a kiss being pressed to her forehead and hearing his muffled voice but she’d been too distracted.

Aelin gathered the things she’d been picking out and put all the photographs, letters, and trinkets back in their box, before getting up and carefully carrying it with her as she went looking for Rowan.

It didn’t take long. The man was out on their back porch, sitting on the wooden swing and using one leg to slowly rock himself back and forth. He wasn’t looking at her but she saw the smile on his face as she approached. He always knew she was there; he could always sense her. Aelin walked towards him and grinned against his mouth when she ducked down to kiss him, before unceremoniously dropping down onto the swing beside him. His rocking didn’t falter a second.

“Is that what’s taken your attention today?” He asked, nodding at the large, well-loved box she placed on the floor in front of them.

“Have you looked through this recently?” She let his question float away and started pulling out some of the forgotten treasures they’d accumulated.

Shrugging, Rowan leaned forward to get a better look and fondly bumped his shoulder against hers.

“Don’t think so,” he rubbed at the stubble shadowing his face as he thought about it. “Probably not since we moved in.”

Aelin hummed in answer and quickly picked through the papers. “I forgot we had all of this stuff.” She paused, thinking, and dove back into the box, this time with purpose. “Do you know where the portraits are?”

A light breeze blew a strand of blonde hair into her face and Rowan reached out to tuck it behind her ear.

“Which portraits?”

“You know,” she waved irreverently, “the ones done by…what’s his name?”

“Oh of course,” he amended seriously. “Those portraits.”

Huffing a laugh, Aelin fell back against the swing and swatted his shoulder as he chuckled. “You know who I’m talking about,” she insisted.

Truth be told, they’d had so many pictures taken and portraits painted that he didn’t know where to start with his guessing. His wife could be referring to anything.

“Leo?”

“No,” she shook her head.

“Johannes?”

“No, that’s not it.”

“Vincent?”

“Ugh,” she groaned, rubbing her hand down her face, “this is going to bug me all day.” A second later she popped back up and turned towards him with wide eyes, “Oh! You know what I really wish we still had?” she asked.

He wished they could have saved all their keepsakes, but that would’ve been impossible. “Not a clue.”

“Those busts we had back in Ἀθῆναι,” She said, her eyes growing distant as she fell back into a memory from their younger years.

He hummed, knowingly. “Those were nice. But I doubt they’re in Athens anymore.”

“No, I know that.” She said sitting back and leaning into him, getting closer as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I think the last time I saw them was in Constantinople.”

“Istanbul,” Rowan corrected.

“What?” she turned her face to see him from where she’d tucked herself into his side.

“It’s Istanbul.” He said again.

She blinked and then rolled her eyes as she understood what he was saying. “Well, it was Constantinople.”

“And now,” he poked her, earning himself a startled laugh, “It’s Istanbul.”

“Whatever,” Aelin snorted. “I still miss those statues.”

Rowan kicked one leg out and began rocking them again, careful not to overturn the box. “You know where they are,” he reminded her, “we could always go see them.”

She scrunched her nose up. “Yeah, but I don’t like paying an entry fee to see myself.”

The breeze picked up and the pair enjoyed a few minutes of quiet, broken only by the faint creaking of the swing and the birds and insects outside. She absentmindedly took his other hand in hers and couldn’t help but think back –

Back to when they were young and naïve and had no idea what sort of life they would have ahead of them.

Back to their beginning.

The land of their childhoods was rich, and their life a simple one. Most everyone around them were farmers or fishermen, soldiers or tradesmen. There were scholars, artists, and builders.

Aelin learned stories of gods and heroes and gave tribute to Athena, the patron goddess of her home. She learned how to weave from her mother, and waited for the day she was set to marry the son from a family her father wanted ties with.

Rowan worked and studied and then became a soldier, fighting in bloody battles across the city-states before he returned to wed.

The two had always known they would be married. Their families arranged it long before either Aelin or Rowan were old enough to offer their thoughts. But they were happy. It was well.

For a while, their life was as ordinary as any others in their Polis.

It wasn’t until the two of them had watched their families grow old that they realized their own lives were different. Unchanging. Everlasting.

They learned how to adapt.

The armor Rowan wore became stronger; the language of the orders being shouted changed; Democracy, philosophy, and art flourished. Wars raged. The land they lived on changed names and changed again.

Sometimes years passed when Aelin and Rowan were apart, separated for one reason or another. Other times, decades went by without notice, time losing the meaning it once had. But they always gravitated back to each other.

They met as Aelin Galathynius and Rowan Whitethorn.

They reunited as Aeliana Galanis and Romulus Whitheia.

As Eleyn Galliano and Rowland Whitton.

As Astrid and Warin.

As Alana and Royce.

There were some names they liked better than others.

They saw empires rise and fall. A world they once called home became ancient.

And as the world became more complicated – as royalty and religion shaped the nations, conquering and separating territories, as battles waged and revolutions erupted, as explorers flung themselves to the far reaches of the earth – Aelin and Rowan found their lives drifting apart from one another until they only had their memories and a knowing sense that someday they would find each other again.

"Whiskey. Neat." He drawled, dropping his dusty hat onto the bar top. The wood was scratched up from too many glasses missing their mark. And sticky, too. Not that he'd say so. He was a smart enough man not to complain to the lady behind the bar. Even it meant swallowing back a grimace at the thought of putting that hat back on his head. "Ma'am."

The woman was already halfway finished pouring the bottle. She had known it was him before he’d opened his mouth; but she smiled when his voice hit her, having recognized the sound of him walking ‘cross those old floorboards and taking a seat at his usual stool – the one right in front of her.

She’d had lifetimes to recognize him.

Still turned away, she shelved the dark bottle of booze back where it belonged.

For a moment, it reminded him of the day he found her here. 

He’d been up in Oregon near the California border, following a late wave of gold seekers when he caught whispers of a town a few days south of him, where a woman was holding down a claim to the saloon. A real Calamity Jane if there ever was one.

He knew she was somewhere out here, that she’d ventured west at the call of adventure. Hell, he’d braved across the frontier too, slowly working his way from ranch to ranch and crossing lands that didn’t exist on the maps he’d once held.

But knowing there was a chance of finding her again, and actually hitting pay dirt were two very different things. He had ridden into town knowing not to get his hopes up, but when he stepped into that saloon, heavenly shaded and cool from the high-noon sun, he knew it was her.

She’d been standing behind the bar with her hair woven into a loose braid tossed over one shoulder. Her well-worn clothes somehow suited her just as well as laced-up gowns, pirate’s trousers, or peploi of their youth. Her skirts were long but didn’t look heavy and she had pushed the sleeves of her blouse up to combat the heat. Around her waist, she wore a holster which didn’t surprise him one bit and he supposed running a saloon warranted the pistol that she’d slotted in there.

He was walking towards the bar before he knew what he was doing, and when she lifted her arm to count the bottles she’d lined up on the shelves, he caught sight of the small scar on her forearm. If he still had any doubts, seeing that blew them all to the wind. He could recall with deafening detail the day she’d gotten that scar, the spatha blade that gave it to her, and the Roman general he’d killed for it.

Her back was still turned towards him when he slowly sat down on the stool across from her.

“Aelin.”

In an instant, she went completely and utterly still.

She would know his voice anywhere. Know him anywhere. And even if she hadn’t, there was only one person who would ever call her by that name.

Lifetimes worth of memories flashed behind her eyes as her heart began pounding a thunderous beat. She felt like all the wind had been knocked from her, yet also it was the first time she could breathe in years. She wasn’t sure how that was possible. But then, she’d long since given up deciding what was possible and impossible when it came to him.

And her mind was putting in the licks like a six-shooter horse; like she was electrified.

Carefully setting the bottle in her hand back down on the countertop, slowly, so slowly, she turned to face him.

As they locked eyes a million different emotions flew across her face and he was sure as a gun his was looking the same.

She smiled, wide and bright, and her eyes lined themselves with silver.

“Linny,” she breathed, her first word to him in over half a century. “It’s Linn, actually, but everyone ‘round here calls me Linny.”

Her voice was dipped in that sweet, honeyed drawl they’d been surrounded by. And he laughed, feeling like the years just melted away because she did too. The kind of laugh that said more than words ever could.

A few men at a nearby table looked over to see what all the fuss was about, but it was a joke that only the two of them knew the punchline to.

And then, having been reminded that they had eyes on them, she was reaching across the old wood bar holding out her hand. “Linny,” she said again, still beaming at him, “Linny Gale. It’s a pleasure to meet you…” she trailed off with a knowing smirk.

He remembered every instance in which she had looked at him with those same twinkling eyes, and by the growing elation of her face, so could she. He cleared his throat and took her hand in his, smiling even broader when his roughened skin met hers. “Roe Wyatt.” Her smile softened into something special. “At your service, ma’am.”

Roe hadn’t known what came next for him, but what he did know was that she was here – staying. So, he stayed, too.

As she set the glass of whiskey in front of him, that day from almost a decade prior faded away and she brought him back with the small curve of her lips as she greeted him, “Sheriff.”

At least here, in this dusty town on the far side of the world, filled with desert rats still scrounging for that elusive gold, and where he's wearing the badge instead of running from it...at least here he gets to see her face every day.

*****

Life out here was tough, Linny knew that, but she liked it. And she liked it much more now that Roe was back in her life. Point is, she knew folks made their money any way they could, especially the women.

She’d seen enough life to know what it’s like when you don’t have the resources you need. So for every working woman who found herself under Linny’s roof, she’d be offered a spot as a barmaid, pulling in the pieces so they wouldn’t feel like they needed to work upstairs. But if they did, they wanted to - and for that, all the power to ‘em. Everyone who frequented her saloon knew that if they misbehaved themselves with those women, they’d be looking down the barrel of her shotgun.

The first - and last - unlucky man who mistook her for a painted lady didn't make it back out that door.

Linny knew her way around a broken bottle well enough that the Sheriff ordered another round and watched two of the regular old boys clean up the mess. Most of it, anyway. He knew there was still a spot near the end of the bar where the wood’s stained darker than the rest. She thanked him mighty finely for turning a blind eye, too. She was sweet on him like that.

To everyone else in town, it was a mystery why they ain't gotten hitched yet. They all saw the knowing glances and conversations with so many in-jokes it sounded like they were speaking a different language. She never accepted any other man’s courtin’ and folks from around these parts knew not to try anymore, especially when the Sheriff only ever had eyes for her.

They knew not to mess with Linny Gale, too, because if she didn’t get you first, the Sheriff would make sure you never stepped foot in town again; and if some Hay Seed thought he was quicker to the draw than Roe Wyatt, he either ended up food for the buzzards with a lead plumb between his eyes or was found crawling out the back of the saloon while the arsenic-flavored whiskey he got served hit its mark.

To everyone else, his calling on her was moving slower than molasses in January.

They didn’t know the half of it.

*****

“Howdy, Miss Linny. Sheriff.”

She half smiled at the old man taking a seat on a bar stool two over from Roe. She was already grabbing a glass and pouring as she asked, “What can I get’cha for?”

He chuckled when he saw she’d already poured his whiskey. “You know me too well.”

“And whose fault is that y’old honeysop,“ she laughed.

He’d gulped down half the drink and the skin at his eyes crinkled. “My mammy used to say that…honeysop…I ain’t heard no soul say that since ‘fore I could look over the dinner table.”

Her small smile was wistful as she wiped down the countertop and grabbed another glass, using a different rag she’d slung over her shoulder to give it a good wiping down.

“I’m an old soul.”

He chuckled; eyes distant, lost in a memory. “Yeah, m’ mammy was too.” He looked up and smiled the way he did at his little grandbabies, “A sweet thing like you is too young for that.”

Linny kept wiping down glasses sharing an automatic glance with Roe. A small smile graced her face as easily concealed mirth danced across his.

Setting the last glass down, she tossed the towel back over her shoulder and leaned closer to the older man. “Sweet talking me ain’t gonna pay off your tab, Rolph.”

“Always gotta try, ma’am,” he huffed a laugh and stood, finishing the last of the amber liquid.

Linny shook her head fondly and Roe lifted his hand in a wave. “This is the last one, ya hear?” The old coot held his hand over his heart and smiled before walking out into the blaring sun.

“How many last ones ‘ve you given him?” Roe asked, still nursing the drink she’d poured him a while ago.

A huff of air blew a stray blonde lock out of her face. “A few.”

“You’ll run this place out of business ‘f you keep doing that.”

“He’s sweet,” she rested her elbows on the bar and leaned in, “He’s been taking wildflowers up to Madam Briar’s twice a week. Sometimes I see them ambling together down by the general store.

“He don’t mean no harm. He calls me young and sweet; I like it.” She laughed and he smiled. “And don’t you be worrying about this place. She ain’t in trouble yet. I always overcharge those rowdy boys that breeze in from the next town over. Don’t know why they keep coming back, sure as hell not for my welcoming, not after one couldn’t hold his booze and was sick as a horse all over my floor.” She huffed indignantly but then shrugged. “But I’m keeping my shutters painted and bottles full ‘cause of them so they ain’t so bad.”

Most days were right as rain. Linny handled her saloon with little trouble, but if there was any left after she was done, Roe used his badge to finish it.

So, when some fella too big for his breeches moseyed on in, you could cut the tension with a knife.

The saloon fell silent, something Linny might’ve marveled at if it weren’t for the no-good Saddle Stiff who’d sauntered in looking for hell to pay. The man took one long look around the room until his eyes landed on Roe and the star-shaped badge on his chest.

“You the gunslinger ‘round these parts?” His voice was rough and hard when he stepped in front of the Sheriff.

Barely blinking, he eyed the newcomer up and down, then he took a long sip of his drink and looked him square in the eye before gesturing with his half-empty glass to Linny. “You best be taking that up with her.”

Scoffing, the man didn’t even look at her. “You that cowardly a Sheriff you’ll let some hussy take your beatin’?”

Any lingering whispers went completely quiet as Roe slowly stood from his stool. He had a few inches on the man and didn’t bother fighting off a smirk when the newcomer tried squaring his shoulders to look as big as him. The Sheriff held the man’s gaze as he finished the rest of his whiskey before stepping closer and looking down at the lunkhead.

“First off, partner,” Roe drawled in a low voice. “I don’t let her do anything. Second,” he stepped closer, forcing the other man to falter before regaining the ridiculous bravado he walked in with. “You come in here, rilin’ everybody up, hollerin’ for the man in charge, I’ll tell you this – you’re in this town, in this saloon – she’s in charge. And she don’t take well to outsiders walking in here acting like they know their ups from downs.

“Finally,” Roe took another step into the man’s space and shoved his chest with one hand before gripping the material in his fist and hauling him up. “You ever call her that again, you’ll really have to deal with me, and you don’t want to deal with me after spitting on this here lady.” He leaned closer and practically growled, “You won’t be walkin’ ‘way from that.”

Roe let the man drop back down flat-footed and watched as he stumbled but looked between the Sheriff and Linny who’d been watching the scene. He made some sort of decision and went to open his mouth trying to say shit nobody wanted to hear but before he could get two words past his gullet, Linny reached into her skirts, pulled out a loaded pistol, and aimed it straight between his eyes.

“Get your lousy ass outta my establishment.” She cocked the gun, not batting an eye. “Or I’m ‘bout to have another dead body on my premises. That ain’t gonna look so good to the Sheriff.”

Said Sheriff caught the bead of sweat finally dripping down the man’s face and shrugged. “Don’t know nothing ‘bout no body.”

Linny smirked and flashed him a wink before refocusing on the man standing on the other side of the bar. “Now, you gonna get back on that ruddy horse of yours that’s scaring all the fillies outside?” she asked. “Or are you gonna make me get my floors dirty?”

Having no sense of what he’d walked himself into, the man looked her up and down holding that pistol with a steady hand, and scoffed. “That supposed to scare me, Calico Queen?”

Roe slammed his fist on the bar and gripped the man’s shirt again, but Linny’s brows just shot up.

“Oh, you ain’t scared of this old thing?” she asked airily. One second the pistol was pointed at him, the next the flickering gas lamp in the corner of the saloon shattered in a rain of broken glass as a bullet lodged itself in the wood directly behind it. “That was giving me a damn headache anyway. What about this one?” she set the pistol on the bar and reached below it, pulling out a long shotgun.

The front doors came swinging in hard enough to crash against the walls as they pivoted on rusted hinges. Another man, a local who helped tend the horses, ran in breathless unaware of what he’d walked himself into.

“Sheriff!” he panted. “Need your help breaking up a brawl out front.”

Roe looked at Linny who had the situation very much in hand and let go of the scamp who wouldn’t be breathing much longer. Adjusting his hat, Roe nodded to her. “Duty calls, ma’am. For both our sakes, when you pull that here trigger, at least corral him outside will ya?”

“Fine by me, poppet. Less mess in here for me to clean up.” She smiled at him. “That’d be all yours to handle, Sheriff.” 

And it was.

And they stayed in that town until they couldn’t.

And then they left. Together.

“Where do you want it, Ace?”

Annie – Ace – pulled out her deck of luckies and lit up a butt, inhaling and blowing the smoke out in a practiced ring. The alley she was standing in was blocked off from the main road and, for extra precaution, always had a protective pair of eyes on the entrance; not that anyone would notice the guards, she was too smart to orchestrate anything so obvious.  

Keeping her face neutral, she surveyed the haul of smuggled liquor brought to her by one of the active bootleggers in their employ. The two men behind her stayed quiet; stoic, as she blew another smoke ring. She spotted in a second that the poorly concealed unease radiating off the man wasn’t because of the loaded weapons either of her boys was carrying. She looked the bottles over once, twice –

“You’re just the bees’ knees, Cal. Always bringing me the best.” She indulged him a bit, pulling the cigarette from her mouth, and watched the tension ease out of his shoulders.

“Anything for you,” he grinned shakily and kept fidgeting. The damn sap was sweating bullets. He tried making small talk and she let him think he was getting away with it for another minute before she stopped him from lamming off.

“One thing, you old Mug,” her voice dropped all sweetness, and as she stared him down, all the blood drained from his face.

Jerking her head at one of the trouble boys behind her, he wasted no time in pulling out a gat and pointing it at the idiot who thought he could fool her.

“Do you take me for a Dumb Dora? A patsy?” She asked steadily, smirking when she heard the trigger being cocked. “I wasn’t born yesterday. I know the fucking difference between profitable giggle juice and piss-poor hooch.”

The man was shaking now but she had no patience for disrespect. Not here.

“I—I don’t, I don’t know what you’re spittin’ about, Ace.” He stammered.

“That’s Mrs. Thorne to you.” She corrected him, arching a brow. Turning on her heel she ignored Mr. Weston’s pleading and said to her trigger man, “Don’t make a mess. This damn alley smells bad enough.”

The other man who’d been standing behind her reached for the door holding it open for her without a word. She flashed him a smile and walked back into the speakeasy. Annie was immediately surrounded by raucous laughter and brassy jazz music, it was just enough to drown out the shot fired behind her and the thud of a body hitting the ground.

*****

Owen loved the sound of the big band. It never got old, no matter how many nights he spent sitting in this drum, putting down glasses of champagne. He liked even better, that no one bothered him at his table in the corner – no one he didn’t want bothering him, that is.

He especially liked it because he had a clear sight of both doors, the stage, and the bar. Not to mention he never had a problem picking his Ace out of the crowd. The club may have been bedecked in lights and gold, but his wife always shined brighter.

Tonight, he spotted her standing next to a young doll who looked scared enough just to be standing in a juice joint, let alone able to enjoy herself. But the longer he watched them, the more at ease the girl looked in Ace’s company.

“Don’t be getting the jitters, now,” Annie rubbed a comforting hand down the girl’s arm. She couldn’t have been older than twenty, and it was obvious she’d never been in a place like this before. “You see those fellas in the corner there?” she nodded towards a pair of men halfway through a bottle of gin, each with a fine damp on their laps. “Those boys are coppers.”

When the young girl looked back, startled, the blonde laughed and gave her shoulders a squeeze. “Lose those heebie-jeebies. You’re safe here.”

Annie looked over the girl’s head and saw that her man was already looking at her. Like always. She gave him a subtle nod, which he immediately returned, setting down his glass and gesturing to one of the men standing to the side of his table. Ace didn’t need to hear him to know what her husband was ordering. 

“No one in this joint is a danger to you, you have my word.” At the girl’s still skeptical look, Ace smiled conspiratorially at her. “Take another look around, you see that handsome guy sitting there – no don’t stare – people in here listen to him. And he listens to me.” She leaned in closer and the girl finally smiled, making Ace’s smile wider. “He is absolutely dizzy with me. Now, let's get you a delicious glass of bubbly,” She snapped at one of the nearby waiters who came by and handed the girl some champagne. “Relax here at the bar and listen to our sweet canary sing. I heard her practicing her verses earlier and she's lovely.”

Leaving the girl in good hands, Annie snagged her own glass of champagne off a passing waiter and strutted across the dancefloor towards Owen. Her dress shimmered under the lights as she flounced to her husband’s table which was now occupied with a couple familiar faces. He didn’t falter in his conversation as she gracefully draped herself across his lap and wrapped an arm around his neck, carding her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Ace,” he squeezed her hip in greeting, “you remember Lore and Fen.”

“Ain’t you a looker,” Fen winked, and Annie smirked, feeling her husband’s grip on her hip tighten.

“Down boy,” she chuckled, crossing one leg over the other and subtly leaning closer into Owen’s embrace.

“They were just telling me,” he explained to her, “that our buddy at the station got word some Dry folks want to take matters into their own hands.”

“They don’t think the coppers are doing their job,” Fen leaned back, smirking. “Not finding and shuttin’ down all those corrupted, underground joints.”

Annie snorted and turned over her shoulder to look at the two Johns drinking away with badges hidden somewhere in their jackets. “I think they’re doing a swell job.”

Her laughter was echoed by Owen and Fen, but Lore just rolled his eyes at her flippancy.

“Those damn teetotalers think they’re so high and mighty,” The man gritted out, glaring daggers at the policemen in the corner – darkly enough Annie was surprised the boys didn’t drop dead on the spot.

“Cut it out, Salterre,” Annie chastised. He redirected his glare to her and even though she felt Owen stiffen, she merely smirked at the glowering man. “If you keep up looking so sore, people are bound to notice, and then those fellas will get made. It won’t take a genius to figure out why a man sitting comfortably at this here table is looking to pop one of them off.”

“I don’t think Salterre has ever sat comfortably.”

None of them paid Fen’s comment any head, but Annie’s smirk widened just a fraction.

“Yeah?” Lore goaded, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it between his teeth. “And why would that be so bad?”

Before she could answer, Owen beat her to it.

“What, you killing them? Or someone noticing you want to?”

“Both?” The dark-haired man asked, unconcerned. “Either? No one’s gonna be crying over a couple less coppers.”

“Get your head out of your ass, Salterre.” Annie snapped, staring hard at him. “You kill them? That comes back to bite us. I wouldn’t go so far as to say you’re smart, but I know you have eyes.” She ignored his sneer. “Look around and tell me how many people are in the club? Tell me how many people would be able to say that they saw those boys here.”

“So? That’s bad for them, not us.” He shrugged dismissively.

Annie downed the rest of her champagne and wished for strength. “No one in here but a few of us,” she looked pointedly around the small circle, “know they’re coppers. Anyone else would just know that they recognized those two goddamn faces in here before you supposedly cut ‘em down. That leads questions coming back here, to our establishment, to you, to us. That is not what we fucking want. It's the whole fucking reason we pay those boys off in the first place – so that they won’t be bringing questions around here. We help them, they help us. That’s how this works, rattlecap.”

Annie snapped her fingers and a fresh glass of champagne found itself in her hand. She took a long sip before threatening, “If you think you’re above all that, then I’ll be handling you myself.”

Lore didn’t say anything when she raised her brows at him, he just shifted his gaze to her husband as if he would contradict or chastise her. Owen leaned back in his seat, pulling her with him as they settled into the plush cushion.

“You heard the lady,” Owen simply said, instead.

And with that, Fen started snickering and Lore stretched his arms out on the edge of the booth as he silently seethed. The band picked up the first notes of a new song that had Annie twisting on her husband's lap to listen to the music.

When she rested her head against Owen’s he squeezed her hip again and fondly muttered, “Ace.” Some days it was her sweet nickname, on others it was a curse, and sometimes, like right now and said in a way that made her turn to press a red-lipped kiss to his cheek, it was a prayer.

*****

The wind roared around them as their car sped down the road. Owen was driving with one hand on the wheel and the other half-hanging out the window. Annie smiled as the scenery flew by in a blur. Tall buildings and crowded streets gave way to green foliage and open land.

The engine purred and she couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. She’d seen a lot of discoveries and creations, and she always wondered how they could ever get better, but they usually did - things always evolved and spurred the invention of new things. She remembered the journeys in horse-drawn carriages and knew that back then she wouldn’t have been able to dream of a day like today, flying down the roads in a beautiful car, the engine powering them to its limits.

Getting close to the house, Owen pulled off the main motorway and took a winding, private road that wound them beneath blooming trees, their canopies painting the pavement in shade.

The house wasn’t extravagant; in fact, it was incredibly modest. It was something her husband had built in his early days on this continent. Long before the Great War, before the Gold Rush, before the Civil War, and revolutionary battles. Back when they both were searching for something new and took those leaps, journeying across the ocean.

Their lives sometimes felt like swinging pendulums, positioned closely enough to intertwine, drawing them together indistinguishably, but angled just so and pulling them apart when they least expected.

As she reached for Owen’s hands and intertwined their fingers, squeezing once, she vowed to never let that happen again.

It wasn’t long before they’d brought their bags in and decided to take a walk along one of the trails beyond the house.

“Do you think we have to worry about Lore going rogue?” She asked quietly, leaning into Owen’s arm.

“No, I don’t think so,” he shook his head, carding one hand through his un-slicked back hair. “He has a temper but he’s smart. Worst he’ll do is give ‘em some words, but he wouldn’t do worse than that. He knows it’ll only go bad.”

“I think you give him too much credit.”

“I think you give yourself too little,” he countered, and at her raised brow he chuckled. “He’ll put up a fight, but he won’t cross you.”

Annie hummed. “As far as he’s concerned, you’re the one he should be holding back for.”

Owen barked a laugh. “If you honestly think that he doesn’t know who is really calling the shots then you are severely underestimating him.”

“I’m not underestimating his intelligence. I’m insulting his lack of tact.” She told him as they kept walking. “You know we work together; I know we work together; they know we work together; but most of the fellas packing heat and doing the work still think you have the final word. And that works because it allows me to do things I need to do without as sharp an eye watching my moves. 

“And if Salterre keeps pushing, then it won’t be long before everyone knows exactly how I can handle things – and that will be bad for both of us.” She pulled back and smirked up at his amused expression. “How do you think our supply is the best in town? Because I go out and make friends with all those grimy bootlegger’s dames; and between us ladies, things get done, arrangements get made, deals get sorted. And then, without watchful eyes on our lovely, delicate selves, we get our fellas to follow through with those deals…and the world goes round.”

“Okay, okay,” he laughed, agreeing. “Enough about that. I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

“Good.”

“And, Ace?” he laughed again, “You and I both know that every son of a bitch who works with us knows damn well that you’re packing as much heat as any one of them.”

They fell into companionable silence. There was no one in the world she felt as comfortable around.

“Do you remember when we got married?” She asked him suddenly.

“Of course, I do, Ace. It wasn’t that long ago.”

Her dress brushed against her legs as the breeze picked up.

“No, not this time,” she said. “I mean the time during the revolution.”

They kept walking steadily as he thought. “Which one?”

“The European one,” she elaborated.

He glanced down at her again. “Which one?”

“Oh, stop you sap,” she nudged his rib fondly. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Yes, I know what you’re talking about.” He stopped them and turned her to face him. “I remember every wedding I’ve had with you. I remember every ceremony and every dress. Every officiant. Every wedding night. And the only – only – thing that is good about the years when we’ve been apart is that every time we were, I knew I had one thing to look forward to: finding you again and getting to learn who you’ve become.”

“Ἀγαπῶ σὲ,” Annie whispered, silver-lined eyes staring up into his deep green ones.

“Te amo.”

“Ti amo.”

“Je t’aime.”

“I love you.”

**************

Sitting on their aging porch swing, Aelin found herself sorting through faded pictures. There was one of them in a poodle skirt and leather, of flared bell bottoms and disco lights, of wild hair and rock concerts they still sing along to. There was one of them from New Year’s Eve, bedecked in glitter and tassels that had been shot off the moment that the millennium ended. And another one, taken a few seconds later – thank you Polaroid technology – of Rowan dipping Aelin, his arms wrapped around her as they both smiled too hard to really keep up their kiss, as they welcomed a new day, a new year, a new century and millennium. Giddy about what was to come.

“I think that’s enough reminiscing,” she finally whispered, reorganizing the images and replacing the lid on the box.

 “Yeah?” Rowan asked, just as quietly.

Aelin smiled, pressed a kiss to his lips, intertwined their fingers so their wedding bands glinted in the fading light, and answered, “Yeah. For now.”

*******

@acourtofsnakes @a-frog-with-a-laptop @astra-ad-mare @autumnbabylon @backtobl4ck @bankerfrog @becarefuloflove @camerooonchiu @captain-swan-is-endgame @charlizeed @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @doubt-less @earthtolinds @elentiyawhitethorn @feyretales @goddess-aelin @highqueenofelfhame @jorjy-jo @julemmaes @leiawritesstories @lemonade-coolattas @llyncooljones @mariamuses @moodymelanist @morganofthewildfire @nerdperson524 @rhysiedarling @rowaelinismyotp @rowaelinrambling @rowanaelinn @shyvioletcat @stardelia @superspiritfestival @sv0430 @swankii-art-teacher @thegreyj @the-lonelybarricade @the-regal-warrior @tomtenadia @westofmoon @whimsicallyreading @rowaelinscourt

#rowaelin #aelin x rowan #rowan x aelin #throne of glass #rowaelin fic #tog #rowaelinmonth #rowaelinmonth2023 #rowaelin au #rowaelin fluff #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #aelin galathynius x rowan whitethorn #rowaelinscourt

[punkassbookjockey26]

Sleight of Hand, Part 4: The Kiss

I wrote this thing in like an hour, so it's probably pretty rough. Enjoy reading! I'm glad I am able to write again.

Rating: T, Warnings: Language

-------

Another week passed, and Aelin was ready to tear her hair out.

Rowan had been at her apartment almost every night since their accidental cuddle sesh the previous Thursday. He didn’t seem to realize what had happened, or if he did, he was taking the “it never happened” route. Which was fine by her. After all, he was the one who wanted to be friends, and friends didn’t have sleepovers that involved cuddling.

But for the past week, it became clear that whatever “just friends” meant to the both of them were two wildly different definitions, and it was slowly driving her mad. He texted her first thing in the morning to tell her he hoped she had a good day at work and punctuated that same workday with jokes, comments, or other silly things that inevitably led them down a rabbit hole of discussion. In the evenings, they watched movies, dissected TV shows, talked about their favorite books, and he even managed to teach her a card game that was somehow more ruthless than ERS.

Aelin couldn’t remember the last time she had so much fun with someone who wasn’t Lysandra and didn’t think she ever had this much fun with a member of the opposite sex. Too often, they were trying to get into her pants to really want to talk about her interests. Still, she and Rowan had settled into a casual intimacy more befitting of a long-term friendship than the brief companionship they had found in each other.

It pissed her off to no end.

They shared so many of the same interests. They could talk for hours, waxing poetic about the intricacies of their favorite books and the utter shit that some critically acclaimed movies were – their only constraint was time, and even then, he would pick conversations back up almost immediately when they were both awake and ready.  

In addition to the ease of their conversations, there had been the touching. So much touching. The soft grazes on her legs when they sat in bed to watch a movie; the hugs he mentioned that he hated but seemed to dole out to her at a whim; the casual grasping of her hands, her legs, her feet, her whatever body part he could get a hand on. Nothing salacious, but every time he brushed against her skin, Aelin couldn’t help the want that bloomed imperiously in her body.

The past week had been excruciating. Aelin felt on edge, torn between running away from him, knowing that devastation lay waiting in the wings, or confronting him about the confusing nature of their relationship, only to get rejected again. Aelin had been all ready to shut down her crush on him. She could respect the boundary he set – nothing said he was required to pursue a relationship with her, even if the feelings were mutual. She had worked hard to ensure she had her heart eyes under control when he was around. But Rowan had the complete and utter audacity to be charming, funny, gorgeous, and totally into her, even if he wasn’t interested in furthering their relationship.

She never stood a chance.

And really, if she spent longer than five seconds thinking about it, the whole situation scared her shitless. Here she was again, careening headfirst into a level of infatuation that was frankly insane. She shouldn’t have been surprised – it was her MO when it came to guys and dating, but she figured after the shit with Chaol that she would have been more discerning. Apparently, all it takes is for a guy to treat her with the slightest modicum of respect, and she was a goner.

That thought plagued her every time she opened his text thread, or he stopped by her apartment. What she had already felt for Rowan had eclipsed her supposed feelings for Chaol, and she had stayed with him for almost two years. All she could see was the end of the summer and the soul-wrenching pain of heartbreak. But she couldn’t stop herself. She found herself obsessing over the slight touches, the warmth of his body radiating into her as they sat next to each other on her bed, the infectious way he made her laugh, and the smiles he seemed to save just for her. It had only been two weeks since he slammed that wall down between them, but to Aelin, it had felt like a lifetime had stretched between them during those two weeks. He made her feel so much that it was already hard enough to walk away at the end of the summer. But right now? Even with self-preservation on the line, she couldn’t make herself do it.

Which was why she found herself standing at the door to his apartment that Friday evening. He had texted her earlier to let her know that his roommates were heading out of town for the weekend, and he had the whole place to himself if she wanted to stop by for a movie marathon. Aelin surmised that he probably didn’t intend the suggestive tone she read from his message, but heat had spread quickly throughout her body at the thought of being truly alone with him. She had her own room that allowed for some privacy, of course, but she was never without company in her apartment, not with the scores of friends who had unfettered access to her home.

Her skin prickled in anticipation as she knocked on the door. She shivered when the breeze brushed over her, definitely due to nerves; Rifthold was experiencing one of the hottest summers on record, so whatever wind was just as warm and sticky as the night that surrounded her. She heard the shuffling of footsteps from inside, a lock that thunked into place, and the whine of older hinges as the door opened in front of her.

Rowan smiled at her brightly, that smile that seemed to be only for her. Aelin hadn’t seen him interact with many people to know if there was a difference between what he gave to them versus what he saved for her, but she had the impression that smiles for him were rare. She savored those smiles. They were precious and, in her mind, meant only for her.

“Hey, Ae,” Rowan said warmly. She swore her heart fluttered at that single-syllable utterance. Two weeks, and he already had a nickname for her. Took Chaol several months into their relationship before he called her anything other than Aelin. Just another obvious tell that Chaol had not been right for her. Rowan’s presence in her life put all of Chaol’s shortfalls on blast, and she may as well have been keeping a running tally every time a new one popped up.

“Hey, yourself.” Aelin found herself returning his smile with a grin of her own and didn’t wait before entering his apartment. It wasn’t as spartan as she had expected – she had seen the interiors of some apartments with nothing but a chair and a TV – but the furniture was sparse, making the transient nature of its tenants obvious. A single couch lay against the wall opposite a TV on what appeared to be a rickety stand. A foldout tray stood beside it, holding up the latest gaming system. It was functional, but it was also evident that Rowan had never intended to put down any roots.

Swallowing the lump that rose unbidden in her throat, she turned back to Rowan. “You mentioned a movie marathon. What are we watching tonight?”

Rowan brushed a hand behind his head, that same nervous tick she had noticed from the beginning. “How do you feel about westerns?”

Aelin tried to avoid making a face, but it was almost instantaneous. Westerns were decidedly not her favorite thing, but they were obviously something that Rowan enjoyed. She knew she had misstepped the second his grin melted away into embarrassment, and he immediately started backpedaling.

“We don’t have to watch them,” he said sheepishly. “We can watch something else instead.”

“No, Rowan,” Aelin stepped towards him, laying her hand on his arm. The heat of his skin scorched her palm, and she felt him take a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry for making a face just now; I wasn’t trying to make any decisions or make you feel bad. What movies did you have in mind?”

Rowan’s demeanor brightened a bit at the concession. “You’ve heard of The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly, right?”

Aelin rolled her eyes. “Well, of course. I think everyone has.”

“Did you know it’s actually the third movie in a trilogy?”

She was surprised, even though there really was no reason for her to be. She didn’t watch Westerns, so why would she know it was part of a trilogy? She only knew of The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly by name.

At her silence, Rowan continued to talk. “It is arguably the best movie in the trilogy, and obviously the most well-known, but The Man with No Name has many stories to tell.”

Aelin started. “I’m sorry, the who?”

Rowan chuckled at her. “Let’s start at the beginning.”

---

Three hours later, Aelin felt herself dozing. They had gotten through A Fistful of Dollars with little fanfare and immediately started For a Few Dollars More. But the second movie was almost twice as long as the first, and while she hadn’t hated the experience so far, it was a bit of a stretch for her to say that she was actively enjoying the movies.

Rowan, on the other hand, sat rapt next to her, his eyes never moving away from the screen. He mainly had been quiet throughout the first movie, only focusing on her when she had a question regarding the plot. Aelin could tell that this was one of his favorites, so she made sure never to give the impression that she disliked it, but after pausing the movie and declaring a need for a break, she found herself curious about something.

“So why Westerns?” Aelin asked. He was wearing a faded Nirvana t-shirt and another pair of ratty jeans. She was pretty sure the shoes next to the door were a beat-up pair of Chuck Taylors. Everything about him screamed alternative, so the Western thing was a bit surprising.

Rowan had paused for a moment, thinking. “My uncle loves them.”

Rowan took a deep breath, almost as if to calm himself down. Aelin prompted him to continue.

“My parents passed away when I was eight years old,” Rowan said quietly. “My dad had a heart attack when he was still young, and my mother followed soon after, consumed with grief.”

Aelin felt the tears welling up. “Oh, Rowan, I’m so sorry.”

Rowan waved his hand noncommittally, but it was evident that he still felt their deaths strongly, even years later.

“Afterward, I went to live with my uncle and my cousins. I have so many of them; having another child in the midst didn’t seem out of place. He watched Westerns whenever he had a chance. When I missed my parents or didn’t want to be around my cousins, I sought him out, and we would watch them together. He is a huge fan of the John Wayne ones, but his favorite is Once Upon a Time in the West. The director, Sergio Leone, also made the movies we’re watching, effectively creating the whole ‘spaghetti western’ sub-genre.”

Aelin wrinkled her nose. “What’s a spaghetti western?”

Rowan laughed. “Literally speaking, they're Western movies made by Italian directors,” he started. “But also as an antithesis to the traditional US Western. Most US Westerns depict a conflict between an incorruptible hero and a diabolical villain. Spaghetti Westerns turn that tradition on its head and are categorized by their rougher, bloodier, and more violent nature. You see that Clint Eastwood’s character isn’t a good guy, right? But he is still very much the protagonist of these movies.”

Aelin thought about the movie for a moment. She supposed that even if the film wasn’t her thing, she could appreciate the storytelling aspect of having a flawed anti-hero as the protagonist.

Aelin turned and smiled back at Rowan. “If Once Upon a Time in the West is your Uncle’s favorite, what is yours?”

Without a beat, Rowan responded. “Also Once Upon a Time in the West.”

“Well, why aren’t we watching that one instead?”

“Because,” he stated. “It’s an almost three-hour movie, and if you’re already fading this much with just A Fistful of Dollars under your belt, you’d never last.”

“I am not fading,” Aelin said indiginantly.

“Sure, you definitely weren’t dozing the twenty minutes before you called for a break.” Rowan’s eyes twinkled in the dim light, his joy illuminated by the TV screen. They commenced in a staring contest, neither one backing down from their asserted position. Time seemed to still in that moment, and Aelin felt like she was drowning in the warmth radiating from his emerald green eyes.

Moments passed before Rowan spoke again, this time softly, and Aelin might have missed it if she hadn’t already been so free with the attention she gave.

“Thank you.”

The soft comment broke her from her daze. “What are you thanking me for?”

“For watching them with me. I know it’s not your thing; your face spoke volumes earlier. But I still appreciate your willingness to watch them with me just because they’re my favorite.”

Aelin felt emotion swell inside, her face splitting into a wide grin. “Of course, Rowan. I want to learn about what makes you who you are.”

“Well, in that case…what is your favorite movie?”

Aelin chuckled. “We’re not answering questions about me right now.”

Whatever shadows had lingered in his eyes from his earlier conversation had cleared, and only a mischievous gleam remained. “But part of what makes me who I am is an insatiable need to know more about you. I actually can’t believe we’ve spent most of the last week watching movies, and this topic never came up once.”

Aelin smiled softly at his antics but quickly sobered as she noticed he was still expecting an answer to his question. “You’re going to laugh.”

“I absolutely will not,” Rowan said, crossing his finger over the left side of his chest. “Cross my heart.”

She sighed deeply before resigning herself to whatever happens.“It’s Beauty and the Beast.”

A deep laugh burst out of Rowan’s chest, and Aelin scowled at him. Chaol had done the same thing, and she supposed it left a sting behind.

“I swear, I’m not laughing at you. Okay, maybe I am, but only because you thought I would laugh at you for liking the first animated film to be nominated for a Best Picture Oscar.”

“Okay, maybe it’s not that embarrassing, but plenty of people have made me feel bad for enjoying a “kid’s movie” so much.” Chaol for sure had, preferring the over-the-top artsy crap that was always in the running for awards.

Rowan immediately stopped laughing and looked at her somberly. “Well, those people are dicks and wouldn’t know good cinema if it bit them in the ass.”

---

Rowan had pressed play on the movie not too shortly after their conversation, but Aelin couldn’t recall much of what had happened. She had tried to stay awake, but the stress of the week and the film that was most definitely not working for her led to her falling asleep. When she woke, the soft grayish light was peeking through the blinds in the living room, letting her know that it was still very early in the morning.

She and Rowan had fallen asleep on the couch together, it appeared. And much like the week before, Rowan had wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her into his body. She marveled at how well they fit together, that even though she was definitely on the tall side, he was still that much taller and broader than she was. She fit perfectly under his chin.

But unlike last week, she had difficulty extricating herself from his arms. She was comfortable, surrounded everywhere by his warmth and that pine/snow scent radiating off him in waves. It made her think of home, of Oakwald forest where she would play with other members of her family who had been lost to time, illness, and more. The forest was so close to the Staghorn mountains that when the wind would come in from the mountaintops, it mixed delightfully with the lush pine scent of the trees.

She would only allow herself a few moments of snuggling, but then she would work on removing herself from his arms again. She got lucky last week in sparing themselves the embarrassment, but she didn’t think she would be so lucky this time.

And she wasn’t. The second she turned her head away from the window, her eyes met a set of green in the dimly lit space. Her breath hitched. Aelin wasn’t sure how Rowan would handle being caught in this compromising situation, and she didn’t really want to stick around to find out.

However, neither of them moved. They both lay entwined, breathing each other in. The couch was not deep, and if not for how close they were laying, Aelin likely would have ended up on the floor at some point in the night. Rowan’s hold on her waist seemingly tightened around her, and Aelin swore he could feel the thunderous beat of her heart against his chest.

It could have been seconds or minutes that they lay there looking at each other, seemingly unwilling to move from this protective haven of warmth and comfort. And just as Aelin decided to remove herself, Rowan reached his hand to cup her cheek.

His palm was warm against her face, his thumb swiping across her cheekbone so softly that Aelin wasn’t entirely sure it was happening. Rowan’s fingers twined with the hair coming loose from the ponytail she wore last night as his gaze turned into something molten that caused a fire to spark to life inside her.

Before she could ask him what he was doing, Rowan leaned forward and placed a soft kiss against her mouth.

It wasn’t anything more than a chaste peck, and it was over before she even fully registered that it happened, but Aelin jumped in his arms at the touch, and without his arm around her, she started falling off the couch.

Rowan immediately shifted, trying to keep her from sliding off the edge, only to end up on the floor in the ensuing scuffle. Rowan’s hand cradled the back of her head as if he were trying to prevent a head injury in the half foot or so she fell to the floor. The other was wrapped tightly around her waist, and with the added bonus of gravity, Aelin could feel all of Rowan’s weight deliciously on top of her.

They both stared wide-eyed at each other – Rowan’s were mixed with a level of surprise and concern, whereas she was confident that hers were just surprised by the unfolding of events that occurred. A moment passed. Another. A third one before Rowan finally put them out of their misery.

His lips pressed against hers once again.

This one was not the chaste kiss from mere moments ago. This one had a hunger to it that left Aelin breathless. She registered his soft, firm, demanding mouth against hers and moved hers in whatever way he directed. She felt the soft slide of his tongue against her lips, and she gladly allowed him entrance to her mouth. Their tongues sensually moved against each other, and his hands tightened around her waist. He had pulled her fully against him, not that there was anywhere else to go between his hard body and the floor. Not that Aelin even wanted to move.

The rational part of her said that they needed to stop and talk about what was actively transpiring at that moment. But the other part of her brain was content to keep this boy in her arms for as long as possible.

Rowan had moved from her mouth down the column of her neck, placing little nips in the sensitive skin before trailing back up and doing it all over again. Aelin carded her fingers through the soft hair at the nape of his neck, the same spot he went to when he was nervous. He sure didn’t seem nervous now. In fact, Rowan seemed completely capable of kissing away the breath in her lungs.

But as he nibbled down her neck, she couldn’t help asking. “Rowan, what are you doing?”

“Kissing you” was the only smart-alec response he got from the man currently ravishing her.

“But…what about…,” Aelin drew in a sharp breath as Rowan found a particularly erogenous zone right at the base of her neck, where it met her collar bone. Aelin attempted to stifle the moan that slid up through her throat, but she was not entirely successful. She heard Rowan groan in response as he continued to place sucking kisses against her sensitive skin.

Aelin tried again to get his attention. “Rowan…I’m-…we’re not supposed to be doing this.”

Only then did Rowan stop. He pulled back from her throat, his arms braced against her head as he stared down at her. She watched as he licked his lips as if savoring the taste of her mouth inside his, and she practically melted right into the floor.

Never in her wildest dreams had a man look at her the way Rowan looked at her then. Like she was fierce and passionate, a warrior, but also someone capable of taking his breath away. He sighed, reluctantly relenting just a tiny bit of space to say his piece.

“We can do whatever we like. And you’re right; we probably shouldn’t. But now that I’ve started this, I can’t seem to stop.”

It didn’t hurt her ego to hear him say that. She had practically been in a whirlwind of emotion for the past week, analyzing and reanalyzing their interactions, and it was nice to hear that he had been experiencing a similar kind of hell.

“We can be friends who kiss, right?” Aelin asked tentatively. She didn’t want to do it, but she also knew that this would only ever be a summer fling, so if she wanted him, she needed to meet him where he was and be okay with what happened after.

She didn’t have to wait long. Rowan quickly returned to what he was doing before she interrupted him. He even responded to the question she asked about friends who kiss. However, despite the shiny golden light unfurling within her like a newborn star, his response to her question left an ominous sense of dread in its wake.

“We can be friends who kiss, but I still have to leave at the end of the summer."

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

Tagging those who might still be interested in this ancient fossil of a fic:

@highqueenofelfhame @shyvioletcat @westofmoon @whimsicallyreading @morganofthewildfire @mariamuses @1islessthan3books @superspiritfestival @jesstargaryenqueen @chieflemming @swankii-art-teacher @rowaelinismyotp @booknerdproblems

#throne of glass #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #aelin galythinius #tog #aelin x rowan #aelin and rowan #aelin galathynius #rowan x aelin #aelin ashryver galathynius #rowan #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin au #tog fic #tog fanfiction #throne of glass fanfic #throne of glass au #throne of glass fanfiction #pabj26writing

[wanderingpages]

idk if you do requests outside of jurdan but its been in my head like tattoo artist Rowan and receptionist Aelin? and dating? and like...smut? ahhh thank you bye

∞

Rowan frowns when he sees her, sitting on the step just to the side of his shop. It’s been raining on and off all weekend, only now subsiding to a foggy mist, turning the small town as gray as Rowan’s reluctant to admit he’s been feeling. Aelin is under an awning, so she isn’t quite wet, but the damp strands of her hair is enough to let him know she’s at least ran through a sudden downpour from her car to where she’s currently at. She perks when he approaches, squinting but the pretty gem like hues in her eyes are still breath taking to him. She’s grinning wide and it breaks something in him, something he hates to even acknowledge he’s built up over the past few days. Aelin stands, bouncing from her tip toes as he nears her. Even heightened by the step, he still towers over her. She doesn’t mind tilting her head up, though.

“Hi,” She says.

His lip tilts upward, “Hi,” he responds. She takes a step to the side, and he reaches behind her to open the door. He gestures her first, letting her lead the way up the steps, to his apartment. Her shorts are high waisted, and he’d always tease her about her pairing it with oversized sweaters, much like she’s wearing today, because it made no sense to him - to be only partially warm. He does not point out the goosebumps on her legs, knowing he’d only get a narrowed eye response instead.

“Sorry I didn’t call,” She murmurs, ruffling her hair a bit. “Wasn’t sure if you’d answer, with your appointment today.” As his front receptionist, Aelin is well versed in all the clients booked for months in advance, so he’s not surprised that she knows he had an eight hour session, inking a regular customer of his. She probably also knows he should feel absolutely drained right now -  barely managing to remember to buy food before returning home - but he’s not. Rowan is absolutely zinging with unchecked energy.

It probably started the day she walked into his shop to answer an ad the previous receptionist had posted. Sparked when she’d ask him to pierce her not long after. Maybe it snowballed with her opting to stay behind after hours, using the break room for her class assignments, quietly keeping him company when sessions had flown well into odd hours. It definitely ignited when she’d kissed him goodnight on a whim, running off to her car before he’d even gotten the chance to comment.

It's been kindling when he’d gotten her chocolate during his lunch break one day and then every day after. When she'd left him a note the next day. When he had invited her up for dinner, when he had dropped her off to class the morning after, picked her up some time in the afternoon. When he thought it was cute when she eyed the women who get inked by him, flustered him when he felt jealous over a guy flirting with her.

They hadn’t been shouting it from rooftops. In fact, if Rowan’s honest with himself,  he’d been the one to keeping it under the radar – he’d felt bad enough because of the age gap, but to add the fact he’s her boss as well? Yet, roles applied still didn’t mean Aelin did not have complete control over him, mind body and soul. It took him a while to accept it, but he was all hers.

He just finds himself wondering if she was all his, too.

She reaches up to the ledge above the door, finding the spare key he’d shown her some time ago, and easily opens the door, jiggling the knob just right and giving it a quick kick after turning the key twice. She holds it wide open for him, toeing off her soaked kicks as he enters. He sets the food on the counter, before working on his boots and tugging off his hoodie.

“Were you waiting long?” She leans against the shut door, watching him undress like she hasn’t seen it more than a few times before, still it reddens her cheeks, despite the utter conservativeness of it all. She bites on her lip like she’s waiting for a show and he can’t help the small chuckle he lets out.

She shakes her head, coming back to the moment. “No." She shrugs as if its any consolation for her wait, "I missed you,” she smiles at him, almost shyly. It had been some time since they’d last been able to speak to each other properly. Despite her spending most nights with him, she had requested a few days off of work for finals, and he was at that point of the year where all him and his artists were booked until the end of summer. Still, he’d manage to find a few hours, and eager as he was to finally just be with her, Aelin had turned him down. He’d been too late, apparently, she’d already made plans. He frowns, trying not to think about it, hating the way it makes him feel, if he’s to be honest with himself.

“Missed you too,” he lets her know, heading to the cupboards to grab some plates. He divides the food, half for him and half for her, while she takes a seat at the table, tucking her cold toes beneath her. They talk idly, comfortably, touching when they can – hands, shoulders, knees. They seem to only gravitate closer to each other, stealing from the other’s plate, talking lower to have their heads meet in the middle, leaning closer to steal quick kisses – it’s all very domestic, so then why is Rowan feeling so goddamn feral?

They’ve managed to move to the couch, he’s leaned back watching a game he can’t quite say who’s winning or what sport it even is and Aelin is turned to face him, kneeling beside him, feet tucked like they had been before and she’s touching the ink on the side of his face tracing the patterns to the scruff of his hair. “When are you going to ink me,” she teases.

“When you know what you want.”

She rolls her eyes. “Your roots are growing,” she comments, tugging lightly at the overgrown locks where dark meets silver. He smiles but it's wary. His hand rests on her hips and he squeezes lightly, and without thinking, he leans his head on her, pleased to find that thump of her heart beating roughly against his ears. Aelin lets out a sigh, raking her fingers into his moonlight locks and finally asks, “Is something wrong?”

“Hmm?” he debates on bottling it up, because maybe this is a generational thing and dating means something different to him than it means to her.

“You seem… out of touch with me,” and her voice splinters at the end, going so soft, it almost gets drowned out by the insistent pumping of her heart in his ears.

He holds her tighter, and finally admits, “I… I walked by the bar after work that day.” Maybe she hadn’t meant to purposely leave out exactly whom she was planning to meet up with, but the guilt ridden look on her face tells him that she’d thought nothing good would come from Rowan knowing this information. “Did you think I wouldn’t know about your date?” he tries to smile but it feels all wrong – he had tried to be teasing, but he’s hurt – angry even. “Or did you think I wouldn’t have trusted you?”

“We were just talking,” she tells him, “It wasn’t anything serious.” Rowan holds his tongue, figuring maybe if he’d been more public with their relationship instead of sneaking in kisses during the day when no one’s watching, treating dates as secrets, and avoiding answering questions by their peers, maybe he wouldn’t feel as shitty as he does now. “I should have told you – but I didn’t think it meant anything – it still doesn’t mean anything.”

He tilts his head to look up at her, holds her steady and reaches with his free hand to touch the ends of her hair, twisting sunlight around his finger almost absently. “This is new – everything with you is new,” he confesses. He doesn’t want to be that guy – the one who’s insecure about his girl hanging with other guys, doesn’t want to second guess when she says she’s made plans. He traces down her arm, grabbing the tips of her fingers and leading them to his lips, kissing them lightly. “I trust you,” he lets her know, “So please,” he begs, watching the flush in cheeks, the tug of her bottom lip between her teeth, “Don’t make a fool out of me, Aelin.”

“I promise,” she says, not even a beat later and just the same, he’s tugging her on top of his lap. The television casts an array of colors like an aura behind her – godly, he thinks. She bends forward, her hair curtaining them, encasing them with a familiar scent. “Maybe I should have let you known,” Aelin says quietly, “That when I'm with you, I'm with you. No one else.” Rowan’s hand glides just under her sweater, fingers splaying where he knows birthmarks hide. His other hand weaves gently into her hair, pushing strands back, behind her ear, palm pressing to her cheek, holding her face steady when he shortens the distance and kisses her so softly. Her toes curl, knees on either side of him squeezing his thighs. He brings her closer to him, so close the fabric of their clothes begin to imprint and indent against their skin. “I’m sorry,” Aelin murmurs against his lips.

She’s rough when she’s kissing him again, desperate, like she needs to show him she means it and this is the only way she can think of. And when Rowan bites at her lips, he knows she doesn’t mind because her hands are at the nape of his neck, pulling him deeper against her, then she guides his lips down her neck when she can’t seem to get air in her lungs. His teeth scrapes against her flesh, her nails against his. He breaks only to get her sweater off, digits immediately at her navel, fingerprints covering the golden charm he had so carefully pierced into her skin. He mouths at her breasts, pulling her bra down enough to latch on to a nipple. She calls out his name in surprise, hips grinding hard against his. His tongue flicks roughly against the nipple before it flattens over her, soothing the ache while Aelin rubs her hips against his, frantic for more friction.

He should slow down, he thinks, biting at the swell of her breasts, blooming pink and reddening marks wherever he can. He’s never been this rough with her before, never thought of his markings as punishment - but she’s guiding his hand to her the buttons of her shorts, fumbling to get them undone, “Rowan… - I, ahh,” she doesn’t mind. More, she wants to say, but she doesn’t have to, his fingers are right where she wants them, working fast and expertise, having her panting and quivering and he’s not even in her yet, just rubbing her between her folds, soft then faster, and when he presses down on her clit, she’s screaming into his shoulder, trying to muffle her cries when she comes.

She’s still breathing rough when he has her on her back, her bra behind the couch, her shorts and underwear right at his feet. His shirt came off, but his jeans are just barely undone, settling below his hips, because he’s feeling so fucking frantic. “Wait – ah,” she throws an arm over her eyes, trying to settle the stars swimming in her vision, “need to breathe,” she tells him, though she lets him spread her legs wide and position himself right between her. Her stomach tenses on the contact alone. Her chest heaves up and down, she’s coming down but not quite there yet. Her body jolts and she twitches involuntarily, knees shaking when the tip of his cock slides right between her folds.

He likes her like this – he likes her in a lot of different ways, but especially this. Her hand flies to his bicep and he has a full view of how her face contorts, how her eyes screw shut so tight that her nose scrunches up. “Look at me, princess,” he murmurs, “let me see those pretty eyes,” she opens her eyes, a wave of colors akin to the sun meeting the ocean, and her lips part as he slides his cock up and down, pressing the tip to her clit. His breath is hot in her ears, “You can catch your breath later,” is all the warning he gives her when he pushes into her.

She cries out, fingernails digging into his arms, eyes rolling to the back of her head. “Ah!” she’s not yet fully back from her first orgasm, but it already feels like an onslaught of much more hitting her in succession, too quickly, too soon. One of Rowan's hand is holding a thigh in place, at angle just right, hitting her fucking womb with every thrust. His other hand is placed against her stomach, and she feels like she’s going to explode – at a loss for words, at a loss for all her senses, Aelin really only knows his name. “Ro – ah… ah! Ro...wan…” She manages to move her hands to his face, pulling him closer, heads touching when she gets lost in his eyes. Tears prick, and her breath catches. Her chest feels so tight but she just wants him to consume her. “Ah…” she manages just hoarse little noises, overwhelmed he’s fully inside of her, and he begins to just rotate his hips enough that his pelvis rubs against her swollen clit.  “Want… it…” she gets out, gibberish in her slurs, “Want you…”

Rowan moves out of her slowly, “You’re so good,” he murmurs, thumb moving to press her clit. She weeps, drawing blood when her nails scrape down the back of his neck. He feels himself sliding in and out of her, the palm of his hand practically caving into her abdomen. He’s fucking her so deep and so hard, he feels like he’s absolutely losing himself in her. “You look… so beautiful,” Rowan whispers, maybe for the first time with the way her eyes flash in surprise. “Look how well you take me,” he murmurs, in place of the awful possessive shit he really wants to say. "So good..." He’ll hold his tongue from saying, “this is mine – you’re all mine.” He makes sure to embed it into her skin instead, makes sure Aelin still feels him when this all over, makes sure he leaves his marks on her like lewd little tattoos.

#asks #requests #rowaelin #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #throne of glass fanfiction #rowaelin fic #rowaelin fanfic #tog fic #rowaelin smut #rowaelin one shot #tattoo shop au? lmao idk #okay both of these asks have been in my inbox since july 2020 and i am so so so sorry #i was overwhelmed back then 😔 #still am but slowly trying to clean out my inbox rip #im so sorry i hope i did them justice #its been so so so long since i read tog lol #also sorry @ the second request i was going for that but then it went somewhere else and i scrapped it and ended up with this in the end #one shot #smut #oh age gap mentioned and all cus we got kinks ok #will edit later

[house-of-galathynius]

Overdrive

Chapter Four

Chapter Three - Chapter Five 

Word Count: 3.1k

~

Aelin

The luxury of being born into a wealthy family meant that Aelin never really had to think about getting a job or worrying about money. The disadvantage to this was that she spent a lot of her time twiddling her thumbs and trying to figure out what she actually wanted from life.

With Lysandra caring for her new baby and Aedion starting pre-season prep, it meant Aelin was at a loose end. She’d finished her masters degree and hadn’t rushed into finding a position because God knows she didn’t know what she really wanted to do. But she found herself procrastinating, not really finding anything productive to do with her days. There were only so many brunches she could go to with her mum or pilates classes she could stomach. The people who ran in her parents social circle weren’t exactly exciting, and most of them didn’t see the point in Aelin being ambitious— why would she, when her father had enough money to support her indefinitely.

Her father was at the breakfast table reading the news, the TV was on low in the background and her mother was pottering about the kitchen when she entered. Sure, Aelin could have been back in Melbourne in her own apartment or at one of their family houses basking up the sun. But instead she was at her parents’ home in the countryside enjoying her time with them.

“What’s up, kid?” Her dad said cheerfully.

Aelin slumped down into a chair and poured herself some coffee from the pot. “I’m bored.”

Evalin laughed and her dad chuckled to himself. “The garage needs sorting out. Or you can finally fix up the old car in there. It’s been sitting waiting for you for three years.”

Aelin groaned. “I want to do something meaningful, dad. Not hide myself away and play with an old car that will never get driven anyway.”

He put down his tablet and met her eyes. “I told you that Murtaugh offered you a spot as an engineer. You told me there wasn’t any chance in hell you’d go back.”

Which had been true. After her introduction back into the F1 world a month ago, her father had taken it as a sign that she might be willing to jump back into racing again. Rhoe had been full of nothing but glee when he’d informed her that Red Bull needed another engineer for the season. But after one evening surrounded by the drivers— surrounded by Rowan— it had all but confirmed her aversion to that industry and the people within it.

“It might be a really good opportunity for you. You’d barely interact with the drivers and it’d mean you could be with Aedion and support him for the season.” Her mother said with a slight hopefulness to her voice. “Plus, it would get you out of the house and doing something you love.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to get rid of me.”

Her parents laughed, but shared a look as if to say that they were trying to get rid of her. “We’ll support you in whatever you do, Aelin. But it’s been four months since you graduated and I think that it would be a really great opportunity for you.”

It was true. What better experience was there than becoming an engineer for a Formula One team? Since she had been ten years old, it had been her goal to become one. Her dream had started because she had been desperate to make sure her dad’s car was the safest it could possibly be. Then it had morphed into genuine enjoyment and before everything had gone to shit, she had been on course to join Red Bull as an apprentice. Then the shit-show had happened. And all she wanted to do was leave behind any sort of memory of Rowan—  including anything to do with F1. But she had a stubborn realisation that she wasn’t going to let him take everything from her. So she’d stayed and endured the years of study.

She turned back to her parents, “I don’t even like being around those people. Going to the awards with Aedion was enough to remind me that I don’t care for that world.” Although her heart was saying that it would be fun, that maybe she could ignore him.

“Ace, that was one evening. You know what those events are like… you’d be too busy during the day to think about where you were and too tired in the evening to bother with socialising. And the reporters will stay away from you because they can’t go near the cars anyway.”

Her mother nodded in agreement. “Don’t let one person ruin this for you. You have been working so hard to achieve this. It’d be a shame to let it go to waste.”

As always, her mother was right. Aelin hated that fact… but she also hated being in this in between state with nothing to do. And it was probably true; she’d barely see the drivers and she’d be too tired after the day of work to bother socialising with any of them. But she would be lying if she didn’t say that her stomach dipped at the thought of spending nine months travelling the world in close quarters to Rowan.

“I’ll leave it up to you. But don’t say no just because you’re scared.”

~

Rowan

Pre-season testing always hyped him up. The winter break was always too long and he craved to be back in the car.

This winter break had felt too long.

When he had finally received the email of his schedule and he realised there were only two weeks left before he would be back in the car, he could barely contain his excitement. In fact, he’d gone out with Fenrys that evening and had celebrated the return of the season with one last booze-fest and then rewarded himself with the prettiest girl in the bar.

His head didn’t thank him the next day, but it had been enough fun that he didn’t care. Of course, once he’d politely encouraged the woman to leave his house he’d finally felt fully relaxed and could enjoy a long run on his treadmill and an easy breakfast on the patio.

The house he lived in might have felt empty, but there were still certain parts of it that he loved. Although, he was eagerly anticipating the day he would get to leave and not have to look at the place for almost a year.

Rowan’s phone vibrated on the table and when he saw Aedion’s name on the screen he felt an ounce of dread seep into him. Whilst he had a lot of respect for Aedion on and off the track, the two of them rarely communicated unless it was to do with something race related.

“Hey man.” Rowan answered casually.

There was faint crying of a baby in the background and then Aedion’s voice cutting through it. “Hey. Sorry to call you so early. I just thought you should be aware of something.”

Rowan sat up straighter. “Is everything okay?”

“Of course. I mean, I’m great. But um,” there was a beat of silence, “Aelin is coming to join the team. Murtaugh offered her a position as an engineer for this season.”

Rowan was quiet. “I thought she turned it down?”

“She was going to. But she changed her mind.” There was sigh through the phone and then Aedion began talking again. “I don’t know what happened between the two of you and honestly at this point I’m too afraid to ask. But I wanted you to know so that you weren’t surprised when she’s there.”

“Right.” He replied slowly. He didn’t know what Aedion wanted him to say. Did he want Rowan to kick off and complain? Or was he waiting for Rowan to admit something about their relationship— or lack thereof. He wasn’t entirely sure, and in all honesty his emotions about this bit of news were all over the place. “Thanks for the heads up.”

“Sure,” Aedion said hesitantly, “you’re not going to make this an issue, are you?”

Rowan scoffed. “No offence, Aedion. But I don’t care about your cousin coming to work for the team. All I am focused on is winning another championship.” The word cousin seemed to be the only way Rowan could pretend that she was just another insignificant person.

“Got it. I’ll see you in a few weeks then.”

The phone went dead and Rowan didn’t move from his position. He’d assumed his run-in with Aelin at the awards ceremony was a one-off. She hadn’t been in the F1 world for five years and he had assumed after their disastrous meeting last time, she would just avoid coming back into it again.

Rowan realised he was gripping the table so tight that his knuckles were turning white. He immediately let go and paced across the floor. He tried to convince himself that it wouldn’t be that bad. She may not be working on his car… and even if she was, he’d only have to see her in passing and he could ignore her.

He’d just finished a run but his body was tense again. He would need to find a better coping mechanism than this for when he was around her more.

~

Aelin

Murtaugh had been more than thrilled at Aelin wanting to join the team. And though she had her reservations about being back, there was a simmering excitement within her at getting to work on such an exciting project.

Her father and Aedion had been just as excited as her and the two of them had been swapping stories with her all evening. Although her father had retired to bed when the clock had hit one in the morning— leaving Aelin and Aedion to finish off the bottle of whisky between themselves and enjoy the last weekend before shit hit the fan.

“I told Rowan you’re coming back.” Aedion said in between sips.

Aelin rolled her head to the side and glared at him. “Why would you do that?”

Aedion shrugged. “I didn’t want there to be any surprises. After your last encounters with each other, I thought it be best that he was aware you’d be around.”

“Shouldn’t you be spending your time looking after your newborn? Rather than worrying about how Rowan might react to seeing me?”

Aedion snorted. “I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you say his name since whatever happened.”

“I’ve said his name plenty of times.” She replied defensively.

“Ace, I’m being serious. If at any point you think that you two are going to clash and make working together difficult, you have to say. Rowan is on a mission for another championship and you have a massive responsibility in making sure our cars are the best they can be. You can’t be distracted.”

“Jesus, Aedion. I know.” She finished her drink and turned to him, “if I thought I couldn’t handle it, I wouldn’t have said yes.”

Aedion went silent. She knew that she was being unfair on him. After all, he was just trying to look out for her. But she didn’t need him or anyone else telling her how to work or to be careful. She was a grown up. And she had been letting what happened with Rowan stop her from being in the world she used to love for too long.

“Whatever happened between us is over. I think seeing him again made me realise I’ve been holding onto anger against him for too long and I need to get over it.”

Aedion laughed. “The fact you’ve been holding a grudge for so long suggests that you won’t get over it that quickly.”

Aelin playfully hit him and poured herself another drink. “We’ll see. At this point I’m just going to stay away from him because I don’t think I have anything nice to say anyway.”

“So mature of you.”

It was the first time in a while that she had been able to talk about Rowan without wanting to scream at the top of her lungs or hide away in a corner from embarrassment. Whilst she had spent five years trying to forget about him and avoid talking about him, in her subconscious there was always a part of her that remembered the day they stopped being friends. She didn’t think that any amount of time would erase the memory of it. Her therapist had told her multiple times that talking it out with Rowan would ease the pain, but Aelin had been unwilling to listen and had shut down any further conversations about him. But maybe her therapist had been right…

She finished her drink and then stood. “I’m going to head to bed. I’ve got some prep to do before I start work next week and would rather not be hanging for the next two days.”

She left Aedion sitting there and as she made her way into bed and lay there thinking; she hoped that what they had talked about what be true. She wanted nothing more than for this job to work out. And she hoped that both her and Rowan would be mature enough to work together civilly.

~

Rowan

The only thing he didn’t enjoy about his job was the meetings. Gods they dragged on so long, and there were always so many of them. Especially at the beginning of the season when there were so many new people and new things to learn. But Rowan absolutely loathed the day long talks and the constant stream of people trying to speak to him— or on some occasions— flirt with him.

There were of course the people he was happy to see. And he spent as much time with them as possible before he was pulled away by Murtaugh to say hello to others.

“Rowan, we want you to come meet your engineers.” One of the coordinators told him, interrupting a dull conversation with a stakeholder.

He happily followed the petite red-haired into the large conference room and nodded in acknowledgement to a couple of long-term employees— whose names he should have known. Then he was being seated at the head of the table and within seconds there were people pouring into the room as well. Some of them smiled at him, others gave him a look of pity— he reminded himself to steer clear of them when they were in the garage. The ones who didn’t look at him at all were few, and they tended to be the newest members who were still a little awe-struck at being around him and Aedion.

Rowan was politely listening to what the coordinator had to say when his attention shifted to the door. His stomach did a flip at seeing her standing there��� chuckling to something Murtaugh had just said. It seemed the entirety of the room had shifted their attention to her now, too. Not only did she have this immediate draw to her, but she was the spitting image of her father— save for those Ashryver eyes.

“What is she doing here?” Rowan asked the red-haired girl who was still loitering beside him. Her own gaze fixed on Aelin.

“I thought you were aware that Aelin is joining the team as an engineer.”

“I did. But what is she doing here.” He said again, gesturing to the room.

The red-head swallowed. “She’ll be working on your car for the season.”

Rowan swore under his breath. What the fuck was Murtaugh thinking? He’d made his feelings about her joining the team very clear after he’d found out. He had said to his team principle that he would be as civil as he could and if they ever interacted it would be friendly. But she was not to be anywhere near his side of the garage, if Murtaugh could help it. Rowan couldn’t be doing with any sort of distractions this season. Not if he wanted the championship again.

Just as Rowan was about to go to Murtaugh, the old man made his way to him.

“Get over it, Whitethorn.” And that was all he had to say.

The meeting was short and sweet and Rowan was ready to get the hell out when Murtaugh had finished his speech. He hadn’t spotted Aelin leave, but she had clearly had the same feelings as him and had left as quickly as she could. And for that he was more than grateful.

Rowan was halfway down the corridor, finding the bathrooms— his mind on Aelin, not paying attention to what he was doing— as he went straight into someone as they exited the same door he was entering.

“Oof.” The woman’s voice said.

Rowan steadied her with his hands on her shoulders. It took a moment to see who exactly he had touched and then he was ripping his hands from her like the contact was burning him.

“Watch where you’re going.” Aelin said bitterly. “Or can you do what you like because you’re Rowan Whitethorn?”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “Don’t act like a fucking child, Aelin.”

“Rich coming from you.” She snarled.

“I’d be careful how you speak to me. I could have you fired faster than you could blink.”

Aelin laughed hollowly. “I think you forget who my father is.”

Rowan cocked his head, “you can’t stand there and tell me I do what I want, when you throw your father’s name around just as much to get what you want.”

Aelin was silent. And Rowan gave a satisfied smile. If Aelin wanted to act like this, then he could play the game too. She was still holding open the bathroom door and he was blocking her exit.

“Don’t you think we should try and be nice to each other? As we will be working closely together for the foreseeable future.” He said eventually.

Aelin narrowed her eyes. “I don’t need to be nice to you to be able to do my job efficiently. Just stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours.” With that, she brushed past him, leaving him seething in the hall.

He knew that he had fucked their relationship. He knew that the words he had used all those years ago had hit her where it hurt… and he regretted the way he had ended their friendship. But the hatred she seemed to have for him was a burning rage that had been stewing for five years and was now finding its way out. When he’d seen her at the awards ceremony he had briefly wanted to reconcile— or at least tell her he was sorry. But every time they spoke she was angry and she threw accusations his way and he had no choice but to defend himself. He was frustrated and wanted nothing more than for the problems between them to disappear.

But right now the only thing that plagued his mind was getting into that car and winning another championship.

~

Taglist: 

@morganofthewildfire @tomtenadia @fredweasleyhasadhd @luckyrunawaycheesecake @live-the-fangirl-life  @fireheart-violet  @charlizeed @scarblx @xo-fangirl-xo  @wordsafterhours @jesstargaryenqueen @sailorsassley @sjmships @endlessdaydream @aflickeringsoul @tillyrubes10 @rowaelin-cressworth @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @rowaelinismyotp @rosegoldannie @maryberry @viajandosinalas @becarefuloflove @allthebooksunderthemoon @sheharahu @swankii-art-teacher @superspiritfestival @becarefuloflove @tanvee1231 @viajandosinalas @backtobl4ck @emily-gsh @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart @becarefuloflove @goddess-aelin @thegreyj @leiawritesstories @nerdperson524 @rowanaelinn @tothestarsandwhateverend @athena127 @jisco @gracie-rosee @elentiyawhitethorn​

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fic #rowaelin fanfiction #aelin #rowan #rowan x aelin #aelin x rowan #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin ashryver #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #throne of glass fanfic #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass fic #throne of glass au #tog au #f1 x tog #f1 x throne of glass #formula 1 #formula one #overdrive #overdrive fanfic #house of galathynius #house of galathynius fanfic

[charincharge]

I Don't Want To Wait, sixty-eight

rowaelin high school bff au masterlist

AN: I said I was back, and I meant it! Anyway, if you haven't read the last update, this is the second update this week. That's right. New Chapters 67 and 68. NSFW-ish warning.

Aelin was exactly seven minutes early to her interview. She’d spent the last week emptying her closet and putting together the perfect outfit – a sweater dress, tights, and boots that were just the right level of put together – and mapping out exactly how long it would take to get to Xavier’s house, so she could feel the most prepared walking in. She would not be late to the most important meeting of her life. No way.

She slid out of the jeep and waved goodbye to Rowan, who promised to be waiting at the closest coffee shop until she was ready to be picked up. She assumed it’d be around thirty minutes, but she honestly had no idea how long this interview would take. It wasn’t like she had any experience. Looking around, Aelin took a deep breath and took her first step down the long driveway and toward her future. She gained confidence with each step, feeling her stride lengthen and solidify as her chunky boot heel crunched the gravel beneath it.

They were definitely in the wealthier part of Orynth, closer to where Lysandra’s family lived. Sprawling lawns and expertly manicured greenery dotted her winding path. It felt so different than her own tiny street with closely stacked duplexes and shared family homes that she felt a small tug of insecurity before reminding herself that she was prepared for this. Both her dad and Rowan would attest to that. She’d put them through their paces, going over the “best answers” to potential questions that ranged from her favorite book (The Secret Garden — to lead into her thoughts on why lack of autonomy within the disabled communities is a problem) to what she planned to study (an interest in biology and pre-med with flexibility to also take liberal arts classes) all the way to challenges she’d had to overcome and how she’d  personally be an excellent addition to the Wendlyn community. Those were too complicated to boil down into small snippets. But she had the bullet pointed lists laid out in her head, ready to be explained and fully ready for engagement. Honestly, as nervewracking as this whole situation was, she felt prepared. She reassured herself one more time, scrolling through her list of answers over and over, until she reached the oversized front door. In the middle of it all was a door-knocker so large and cumbersome she hoped she could lift it.

Another deep breath. She could do this. No matter how rich and fancy this person was. Whatever laid on the other side of that door, she was ready and prepared for.

She inhaled, filling up her lungs with extra reassurance, but as she lifted her hand to raise what was surely a heavily weighted solid brass knocker, the wind was completely knocked from her chest. Of all the things she had prepared herself for, she had not anticipated this one single thing that could fully derail her.

Before Aelin knew what was even happening, she could feel herself shrinking at the sight before her. She’d know that perfectly coiffed hair and polite smile anywhere.

“Mom?”

“Aelin,” Evalin said, leaning in to kiss her on both her cheeks, surely leaving behind smudges of her burgundy lipstick on Aelin’s pale cheek.

She leaned back and looked Aelin up and down, her crystal eyes pausing and practically flinching at the tiny snag in Aelin’s tights. She’d only had that one pair and even went over it with clear nail polish to make sure it wouldn’t pull or run more, fully assured that Xavier wouldn’t be looking at the side of her shin where her boot met the tights. But she hadn’t anticipated Evalin’s eagle eyes pulling apart every slight detail, searching for anything out of place to berate her for. “Don’t you look lovely,” Evalin continued, though the downturn of her lips as she touched Aelin’s sweater dress gave her real feelings away. Evalin chuckled as she stepped aside, letting Aelin enter into the large dark foyer. 

“Why don’t you take off your coat, darling?” Evalin said, reaching her hand out.

Aelin cleared her throat, trying not to let the slight choking feeling overtake her and draw in a steady breath as she finally got out a soft, “Mom, what are you doing here?”  

If Evalin was fazed in the slightest, she didn’t show it at all. But Aelin had never felt so small. She had worked so hard to put together this outfit, and now that her mom was looking at it, she knew it was all wrong. The sweater dress had been put through the wash one too many times, tiny pills forming in its most worn spots. Evalin would have shaved them off. Or bought Aelin a new dress. She’d make sure that Aelin had a fresh haircut, none of her desperately-in need-of-trimming dead ends left unevenly past her shoulders. She tugged at the sleeve of her sweater dress as her coat disappeared from her shoulders, suddenly feeling naked without it. There was a tiny thread coming undone from the hem of the sleeve, and she knew that without a doubt Evalin would clock it. The woman missed nothing. She should have tugged it and tried to remove it immediately, but all she could feel was shock and horror. Needing something to do, she untucked her hair from behind her ear, letting it tumble forward, but of course that was the wrong thing to do. Aelin could never do the right thing. Be the right way. Be good enough to keep her mom happy. To keep her around, even. 

She swallowed the thick lump in her throat as Evalin frowned and straightened her shoulders back, warning Aelin silently to do the same. As she retucked the thick gold wave behind Aelin’s ear, her furrowed brow melted away, replaced by a smile only reserved for others. 

“Xavier, please meet my beautiful daughter, Aelin,” she said with a sweep of her hand. It took everything in Aelin not to flinch as the hand gestured toward her. Instead, she donned her most polite smile — ruing the way it felt like an Evalin reproduction — and bowed her head and curtsied, instinctively.

Xavier chuckled. “Oh, my. Look at that,” he said as his elbow nudged into the air by Evalin’s side. “Impeccable manners, of course. I would expect nothing less from an Ashryver,” he continued, his tone light as he ushered Aelin further into the cavernous foyer.

Xavier was everything she should have expected but was somehow unprepared for. He was Evalin in male form. His thick blonde hair was perfectly coiffed, swooping gently over his forehead in a way that told Aelin is had taken hours of work and product to get it to look so natural. He was tall but reedy, like someone who spent a lot of time mixing up green smoothies, per his personal trainer’s request. His navy suit was clean and pressed, sharp with creases that told the world he was someone with something important to say. Shiny cufflinks glinted in the mid-afternoon sun, and Aelin knew if she looked close enough they’d be monogrammed with a flourished script.

“But no need for formalities,” he continued, oblivious to Aelin’s turmoil. “Your mother and I go way back. In fact, our parents’ parents go way back. Evie and I were friends long before our time together at Wendlyn.”

Aelin nearly choked at the use of the nickname for her mother. She’d never heard anyone address her as anything other as her full name, and it took Aelin aback that this man was not only allowed to use this familiarity but received a smile in return for it.

“We were bred in the same kennel, as my father used to say,” Xavier said scratching at his too clean-shaven chin. It was red and shiny and Aelin wished she could stop staring at it and listen to him again. “I can’t remember a holiday I didn’t spend with the Ashryvers,” he droned on.  But Aelin’s mouth was faster than her filter. 

“But I’m not an Ashryver. I’m a Galathynius,” she said. Two pairs of eyes widened but melted quickly back into an amused gaze. 

“Hi, ho. A spitfire, just like her mom. That’s the Ashryver spark for sure,” Xavier said, ignoring Aelin’s growing discomfort.

Because she wasn’t an Ashryver. She was a Galathynius. 

“Who, me?” Evalin batted her lashes and giggled, feigning innocence. Flirting. Aelin’s mom was flirting with this man. This alum. Right in front of her. She swallowed again, biting down the ire rising in her throat. She hated it here. She would do anything to send a fire signal to Rowan to come and pick her up immediately, but, no. She had an interview to complete still. An alum to impress. Aelin could feel her heartbeat quickening as she realized that she still had an interview to complete. That her mom would bear witness to this whole thing. She just wanted to get it overwith and be out of her presence as quickly as possible.

“Can we get started?” Aelin cut off the man, who was clearly surprised. 

“Ah yes,” he fumbled with his thumbs and shoved them into his pocket before taking one back out and gesturing down a long dark hallway. “The study is right this way.”

Study. So formal.

She looked down the long hallway and tried her best to grasp at any of the tendrils of her waning confidence, but it was fruitless. Aelin had never felt so out of place, like such a fraud. Here she was, pretending to be Wendlyn material, but that wasn’t her; that was Evalin.

Evalin, who had grown up with this man, knowing that her future held the glowing promise of a Wendlyn future. Evalin walked through this home as if she belonged there, looking completely at home. But as Aelin traversed the dark portrait-lined hallway down to the study, she could feel the sharp stares of the painted faces judging her with every cautious step. You don’t belong here, they seemed to mock, their pinched noses and haughty smirks watching as Aelin’s chunky boot heel step on the delicate mosaic tile beneath her feet. She didn’t want to think about how expensive these fancy floors were, and the fact that her $20 boots were most likely leaving black rubber smudges against them.  

While Lysandra’s family home was fancy, it was nothing like this – whereas her house was bright and wide and open and modern, this expansive home was dark and crowded with ornate moldings and décor that felt like it could close in on Aelin at any second. She managed to keep her feet steady, despite the long walk down the seemingly never-ending hallway. She could hear Xavier maintaining casual conversation with Evalin, but Aelin stayed quiet, fully focusing on maintaining her stride and praying that she wouldn’t stumble and fall or accidentally break something. Foreboding crept up Aelin’s spine as Evalin fell into pace beside her and smoothed out the fabric of her sweater dress against her back. She could feel her picking off an imaginary piece of lint from the shoulder just so she could dig her fingers into her bicep and pull her close. 

“Behave, please,” Evalin whispered through clenched teeth, causing Aelin to stumble, just as she’d feared she would. “Careful, darling,” Evalin drawled in a much lighter tone. “These floors are priceless.”

“You break it, you bought it,” her mother and Xavier said in unison as he pushed open the door to his study. They both laughed as it was something hilarious from their youth, but all Aelin heard was – You’re not one of us. Again and again and again.

Aelin blinked at the harsh expanse of daylight that filtered through the floor to ceiling windows lining the wall of the study. Thick burgundy drapes were pulled back to allowing a shock of grey-white sky to cast its milky pallor over the dark wood room, somehow leeching it of any warmth, despite the burgundy and mahogany color scheme. 

“Ah yes, it’s quite the view, isn’t it?” Xavier chuckled as he gestured to the frost-laden yard that seemed to go on for miles and miles. “You can see the mountains in the distance on a clear day. When we first bought this place, the neighbors behind us were trying to plant trees in our view, which turned into a bit of a legal battle. But it ended up alright. We bought them out, and now we have a perfect view.” His voice was haughty with pride at the notion of buying someone out of their home. Aelin’s stomach curled at the notion that one person could be so selfish. But still, she put on her best smile and nodded politely. Evelyn would tolerate no less.

Still smiling smugly, Xavier waved Aelin over to the large leather loveseat where Evalin was already perched. But Aelin didn’t want to sit next to Evelyn. She couldn’t think with her hovering so close — all her well-prepared answers had floated to the recesses of her memories, blocked by the constant perusal of her mother’s perfectly controlled facial expressions. But as Xavier slid into the arm chair across from them, Aelin was at a loss. There was nowhere else to sit. She’d have to sit next to her mother.

As she slid onto the stiff couch, the skirt of her dress rode up slightly, catching on the leather. But before she could even it out, Evalin was there, doing it for her. Always hovering. Always watching. Aelin didn’t even realize that Xavier had asked her a question, until she heard her mother’s sharp whisper. “Don’t be rude, Aelin. Answer.”

“Hm?” Aelin’s head whipped up, watching Xavier face lips tug downward into a slight frown.

“Xavier was just asking what you’re interested in studying?” Evalin repeated, her blue-grey eyes staring a hole into Aelin. 

Aelin knew she had an answer for this. She’d talked about the phrasing with Rowan over and over about why it was actually a benefit that she wasn’t completely sure what she wanted to study yet. That it allowed for… curiousity? Flexibility? No, that wasn’t what she’d wanted to say. The words were completely mixed up in her head, and she couldn’t make heads or tales of them. With every flash of her mom’s eyes, Aelin’s rehearsed answers disappeared further and further until all that was left was a gaping black hole of confusion in her anxiety-addled brain. What was she supposed to say? She had no idea. Literally none. She couldn’t do this. Oh god. She couldn’t do this.

Aelin swallowed back the threat of tears as she croaked out a quiet, “I don’t know.”

“Aelin has many interests,” Evalin jumped in, placing her perfectly polished nails on Aelin’s knee. “She’s trained in ballet and is extremely creative.”

She should have said something about how she had just joined Orynth’s Dance Company. About her time spent teaching last fall, how dancing was for fun and she wasn’t sure she’d want to pursue it professionally but she loved that Wendlyn had recreational dance teams she could participate in. That was the answer she’d rehearsed. It was on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t seem to make her mouth and brain work together.

“Ah, so perhaps a performing arts major?” Xavier asked. “I myself studied the bard and was in a play or two back in my day. Wendlyn has a thriving theater department. We even have quite a few celebrity alums,” he continued, oblivious to Aelin’s complete mental shutdown.

“No,” Aelin said. Apparently she couldn’t even explain more than that. She could see the corners of Xavier’s eyes tightening uncomfortably as he watched Evalin’s hand grasp Aelin’s knee – the edges of her dark red gel tips sinking into Aelin’s tights, as the conversation plummeted into a dead silence.

“Right,” Xavier cleared his throat, clearly at a loss. Aelin could feel her stress welling as he continued, hopeful, knowing that her next answer was sure to be another disappointment. Just like her entire being. “Well... perhaps you’d like to tell me about why you’re interested in Wendlyn?” he asked.

And though Aelin knew she had a full essay response for that exact question, she simply shrugged and let him continue his list of questions, each one said with less curiosity as Xavier realized what Aelin had feared: she wasn’t Wendlyn material. And with each question and answer, Aelin knew her chances of getting into college with Rowan were quickly disappearing.

. . .

Aelin had been in a mood in the days following her interview with Xavier and she who shall not be named. But, she was trying her very hardest to keep a smile on her face and pretend like she was totally fine. Mostly because today was Rowan’s first lacrosse game of the season, and he needed her in the stands cheering him on, not sulking about her botched interview. It wasn’tthat she wasn’t a fully supportive girlfriend, but she wasn’t feeling particularly into lacrosse — the sport that was fully responsible for handing Rowan a future that she so clearly wasn’t going to be a part of. She wanted him to do well, but an uncomfortable feeling of panic was pressing against her chest, and it was taking everything in her to put a smile on her face. And Aelin was a lot of things, but a spectacular actress was not one of them.

To Rowan’s credit, he was letting her feel her feelings without pushing. He’d asked how the interview went upon picking her up, and Aelin had simply snapped and said, “Bad.” When he pushed for any more information, she shut him down completely and she could feel a thick wall of armor rising. She’d been furious, practically shaking with anger, but for some reason, hadn’t want to share her mom’s surprise appearance with him. She’d told him that she’d talk when she was ready, and even though she knew he wanted to push, he accepted what she’d asked for. She wasn’t ready to talk about it. She had other things to think about. Like figuring out any other plan for her future that still included Rowan.

Which is why that Friday morning, she donned her green and gold best, tied her long braided pigtails with the #47 ribbons she’d decorated in puffy paints last year, and woke up early to grab a few special treats for her boyfriend on his big day. Before this whole debacle, she’d asked Maeve if she could make a batch of Rowan’s favorite peanut butter cookies, decorated like his jersey, and sure enough, they were waiting on the counter with two coffees when she let herself into their townhouse. She could hear the shower running upstairs, along with a loud blaring bass of one of Rowan’s pump-up playlists, and she forced herself to take a deep breath and push aside any traces of residual insecurity and focus on Rowan. It was his big day, and she knew he was nervous. He always was.

Within minutes, she heard his heavy step skipping every other stairs as he descended into the kitchen where she was waiting, and his smile upon seeing her there temporarily melted away her bad mood entirely. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get over receiving that look from him.

“Happy game day, Captain,” Aelin said, smiling widely.

His arms surrounded her, sliding beneath the hem of her shirt, as he leaned in and pulled her against his chest. He smelled warm from his shower, and she took a moment to inhale the comforting scent of his pine body wash combined with something just innately Rowan.

“Coffee?”

She held out the cup in his direction, but he ignored it in favor of kissing her. Who was she to disagree? She let herself melt into it, letting her anxieties disappear for the moments his mouth was on hers.

“Missed you,” he mumbled, and she couldn’t help but laugh against his lips.

“You saw me less than nine hours ago.”

“Too long.” He pulled her even closer and went back in for another kiss, this time with more fervor. His tongue slid between her lips, and she could feel herself getting slightly carried away as their bodies pressed together even tighter. Her grasp on the coffee cup in her hand was getting dangerously loose when he finally pulled away, resting his head against her forehead and bringing the coffee to his lips.

“Mmmm. Delicious.”

“Me or the coffee?” she asked, eyes twinkling.

“Both.” He leaned in and kissed her one more time. “I wish we had time to go upstairs, but…”

“Someone has a game to kick ass in today, and missing first period is probably a bad way to start that off, huh?”

He nodded sadly, but the mischief didn’t completely leave his green eyes as he looked her up and down. “But maybe during lunch?”

Aelin couldn’t control the burst of laughter that bubbled up her throat. “A pre-game warm up?” she teased.

“Always.” He let his hand fall to the swell of her butt, pinching it lightly and causing Aelin to yelp in surprise.

“Be nice or I’m not giving you your cookies.”

Rowan raised his brow. “You baked?” he asked, rightfully skeptical. After all, he spent most of his time with Aelin and he would have definitely noticed if she’d disappeared to Maeve’s for a few hours without him.

“I had help,” Aelin said, procuring the tray of decorated cookies.

His excitement couldn’t be contained as he leaned back in for yet another kiss, but Aelin knew that if they kept this up they definitely would be late for school.

“Later,” she promised, hoping that would keep her spirits afloat.

But as soon as she waved goodbye to Rowan in the hallway, all her doubts came flooding back. She parsed through every second of her time with Xavier and her mom, wondering if there was any world in which that interview could have been construed as positive, but she knew in her heart the truth. She had bombed. Big time. Not just a minor bomb. That whole afternoon had been a full nuclear wipeout with no survivors left standing. She’d killed her own opportunity, and she’d never forgive herself for it.

By the time lunch came around, Aelin was so deep into her self-pitying wallowing that she felt like she was being suffocated by negativity. She’d hoped that seeing Rowan would brighten her spirits, as it had this morning, but apparently that’d been a fluke. She was just as prickly as ever, barely even smiling when he greeted her with a giant bear hug, spinning her around the hall in an exuberant whirlwind. In fact, her mood was made even worse by the flurry of cheerleaders who giggled in his presence, blushing as they wished him luck in tonight’s game. She practically hissed as one got too close, flashing her canines in feral warning.

“Ease up, Ace,” Rowan chuckled as he led her out to the far side of the parking lot where the jeep was parked.

“Stupid fucking cheerleaders,” she grumbled as she slid into the back seat. She was so in her head that she barely even noticed Rowan driving to their special secluded spot — a nearby parking lot that was midway through some sort of construction when it had been fully abandoned. She was sure the crews would come back one day, but for now, it was perfect for their, uh… needs.

Rowan joined her in the back seat and pulled her onto his lap with skilled ease, as if they’d been doing this for years, rather than merely weeks. But it was good. She was on full autopilot. Aelin’s body knew exactly what to do without being in her brain at all. Her hips rolled against his lap as his fingers tangled in her hair, clashing their teeth together in a harsh mingling of breaths and low groans. She didn’t wait for him as she pulled her top off, and allowed her head to fall back as his mouth trailed down her neck and to the bare expanse of her cleavage. Gods, she loved him so much. What was she ever going to do without this? She tried to imagine a world where she didn’t get to be this close to Rowan, but all she saw was a gaping painful hole in her hear heart. She felt her throat closing slightly and swallowed down the threat of emotion she’d careful kept walled up all week.

“Ace?” Rowan looked up at her with concern, clocking the change in her breathing, but she forged forward. She would not lose any time with him. She’d take advantage of every second they had together. Clothed and unclothed.

“I’m good,” she reassured him,

But she knew he could feel the slight waver in her touch as she reached down to his waist to unbutton his pants. His green eyes flashed in warning, but she ignored it, pulling him into her hand and tightening her grasp exactly as she knew he liked it. Autopilot.

Her hands regained their surety as she continued, lulling Rowan into a state of blissful arousal. She leaned in and bit his exposed throat as he leaned further into the seat, moving his hips into her hand. Her mouth opened and sucked at his skin. Hard. She wanted anyone who saw him to know that he was spoken for. That he was claimed. That he was hers. No matter what. She never wanted anyone else to know him like this, and she could feel her pulse stutter as she even considered the possibility of that. No.

She needed to refocus. Without removing her mouth, she reached for the condom he’d placed beside them on the seat and opened it. She leaned back just barely enough to make room to place it on him, not wanting to give him any space. That was the opposite of what she wanted. She could hear him groan a loud expletive as she slid on top of him and started to move. He fit so perfectly. No one else would ever fit like this. And when it was gone, she’d miss it so, so, so much.

“Oh, Ace.” She thought he was moaning her name in pleasure, but it wasn’t until he said, “Aelin, baby, stop,” that she clocked the tone was actually of concern. His face was blurry, and as she blinked, she felt that her cheeks were fully wet. Unbeknownst to her, silent tears had welled and dripped from the corners of her eyes in full, hot streams. “Baby, stop,” he said again, his hands going to her hips to still her, but her autopilot refused.

“No, it’s okay,” she said thickly. “I’m okay.”

“Aelin, you are not okay. You’re crying.”

She tried to keep her legs in a vice grip around his hips, but he was fully in control as he pulled her off of him and tucked himself back into his pants.

“No, no,” she croaked, her tears pouring out in earnest now. “We can keep going.”

“Ace, we’re not going to have sex while you’re crying.”

“I’m not crying,” she sniffed as his hands came up to her cheeks, wiping his thumbs against them. That seemed to be the thing that cracked her open, a full sob releasing from her mouth as her shoulders shook with the weight of the past few days. Rowan shushed her gently as he pulled her against him, rubbing comforting circles into her back. But she barely felt a thing. All she could feel was the hot sting of embarrassment and shame.

“Do you want to talk about it finally?” Rowan asked, but Aelin shook her head into his shoulder.

“N-no.”

“Okay.”

And she knew that he meant it. He’d sit there, erection still throbbing in his pants as she cried it out silently. That only made her cry harder. She owed it to him to tell him what had happened. She didn’t even know why she’d kept it to herself. Maybe she’d just wanted to pretend for a little longer that the future she’d imagined for them could happen.

“I blew it,” she finally said.

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” Rowan said. Her body was suddenly exhausted, and she couldn’t sit upright anymore. Or maybe she just couldn’t look at his face during this conversation. Instead, she slid until she was slumped across his lap and cuddling into the soft fabric of his pants. She struggled to calm her breath as he ran his dexterous fingers down her back and up again.

“You may as well break up with me now,” she sniffed.

Rowan’s hand paused on her back and tilted her ruddy face to look up at his concerned gaze. “Ace, I thought we talked about this. No matter what happens, we’re not breaking up.”

“That’s what you say now, but…” Another wave of tears took over as she sobbed. “What if you meet someone else? Some pretty and smart Wendlyn girl who fits into your world?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Rowan asked, seeming genuinely perplexed as his finger pushed aside the stream of tears on her hot cheek. “You fit in my world perfectly.”

“But all those girls at Wendlyn are going to be from upstanding families with two parents whose names are on libraries, and I bet they wear real pearls and have perfectly painted nails that are never chipped, and—”

“Aelin, what the fuck are you going on about? Why would I care about any of that?”

She bit her lip, sniffing back another round of tears as she finally told Rowan about Evalin’s surprise appearance and how of course she couldn’t have gotten that interview without Evalin’s help, tugging on those elite strings. And how clear it became that she was anything but that.

Rowan scratched at her scalp, and she leaned into his comforting touch.

“I don’t use the word hate lightly, but I fucking hate Evalin. What she did to you, surprising you like that with no warning was completely fucked up. She should have told you she was going to be there. Leaving you unprepared like that wasn’t going to help your chances, even if she thought being there would. You deserved a heads up. And the fact that she didn’t think you did just shows how little she understands about life. And you.” He took a deep breath. “And it’s okay to feel fucked up about what she did. But, Ace, it’s not okay to think I’m just going to suddenly disappear from your life if you end up at another college. That’s not going to happen. Never. Ever ever. I’m going to be in love with you for the rest of my life. Forever.”

“But—”

He held up a finger to her lips, shushing her. “But also, one person’s review of you isn’t going to make or break your college admission. You don’t know what anyone thinks of this Xavier dude. He could be hated! They could have him interview people as a barometer for who not to accept.”

“That feels highly doubtful, Ro,” Aelin laughed through the remnants of her tears. “But I appreciate your optimism.”

“All I’m saying is, it’s not over until the school year starts. And even then, it’s not over. Best case scenario, you get in with me for the fall. But there are a hundred other things that could happen before then. You could get waitlisted and get in, you could apply to transfer after a semester or a year, if you wanted. Or, other best case scenario, you love wherever you end up, and we still make this work with phone calls and video calls and weekend visits. Because I’m going to love you for the rest of your gods damned life, so stop trying to get rid of me,” he said, poking her cheek with each pointed word. “It’s insulting.” He paused, looking her over thoroughly, and it felt like he could really see through her in that moment, and she could hear his words before he even said them. “I’m not your mom.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” he asked. “Because I definitely don’t have my last name on any libraries. And I couldn’t tell you what a real pearl looks like if a million dollars were at stake. And guess what? I bite my nails, and the only reason Evalin even came around to the idea of me is because Wendlyn became interested in me. You think that I feel like I’m going to magically fit in there, but I doubt many students were raised by their single aunt and grew up working in her restaurant. I don’t have a trust. That’s why I needed this scholarship.” He paused. “If we’re weighing which one of us belongs at Wendlyn more than the other, only one of us is a legacy there, you know?”

“Okay,” she whispered, but the hurt was still so raw, and she felt ragged from her marathon of crying. She could feel Rowan still hard in his pants, and she felt awful. She went to reach for him, but he sternly put her hand back by her side.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“But—”

“We’ll celebrate after I win the game tonight,” he said.

And true to his word, they did.

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

[goddess-aelin]

Putting Out Fires

For Rowaelin Month day 26: taking care of the littles solo

@rowaelinscourt

Masterlist

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: none!

Alma Whitethorn Galathynius, six years old and eldest of three children (so far), was a beautiful and gentle soul. That is, when she wasn’t being a little hellion. With a strong gift of fire from her mother, Alma inherited the famous Galathynius temper and penchant for “accidentally” setting things on fire. Her four-year-old younger brother, Errin, was no better. While he also had fire powers, they were thankfully much weaker than his sister’s, especially since he also inherited his father’s strong gift of ice and wind, Rowan’s twin. Errin, though, found it funny to chase his sister, hands aflame and ice covering the floors to make it more difficult to run.

And not to mention poor Leven, the newly two-year-old who tried and failed to keep up with his older siblings. Leven, unlike his siblings, had a quiet disposition, contemplative and cool headed. While he wasn’t usually easily upset, his siblings chasing each other with flames certainly put a damper on his mood.

To put it short, Rowan was absolutely, positively exhausted.

Aelin left for Adarlan two weeks ago, hoping to meet with Dorian and Chaol to forge new trade agreements. Rowan had excitedly volunteered to stay home with their children instead of taking part in the courtly bullshit. But he didn’t anticipate that not having Aelin as a buffer would tempt his two oldest into becoming creatures sent by Hellas himself. If only Lorcan could see him right now.

Carrying Leven from his quiet room where the youngster was napping into the chaos of the playroom was like walking into a warzone. Rowan swears his hair was singed by a fireball passing by his head. Putting Leven down, the boy immediately latched onto his leg, not willing to take part in his siblings’ antics. Rowan, however, needed to get this under control…and fast. Otherwise, Aelin would be coming home to nothing but a burnt crisp of a castle.

“What is going on?!” Rowan tried to use his best booming voice, the voice of a commander, but he didn’t do a very good job. His voice came out as a squeak instead since a fireball shot directly toward his head once again, which of course, made Leven clutch his leg harder and tears form in the poor boy's eyes.

Rowan cleared his voice and tried again. “WHAT IS GOING ON!?”

The room went silent except for Leven’s sniffles. Both Alma and Errin’s hands were wreathed in flame, covering their tiny hands like wraps for sparring. A quick once-over of his kids informed Rowan that, luckily, no one seemed to be injured or burned.

Both Alma and Errin just stood there for a moment before spurring back into action. It all happened so fast. One minute, they were standing in front of each other, and the next, Errin’s little hand was holding the drapes. Still on fire.

“No! Don’t set fire to the–” Rowan was cut off by a wave of water dousing the flames. Huh, he thought. That’s new. Both Alma and Errin were frozen, looking bewildered as he felt. As far as he knew, neither Alma nor Errin had water powers, which left… “Oh my Gods!”

Rowan looked to his youngest, still clutching his leg but now with an outstretched little hand. He had an adorable pout on his face and it reminded him so much of Aelin that he could help but let a cackle escape.

Picking his youngest son up, he asked him, “Was that you, buddy? Did you put the fire out?”

Still pouting, Leven nodded. “Water.”

A smile burst over Rowan’s face. “That was amazing! You’re only two and you just put that big fire out!” He tickled his son’s belly and the youngster started giggling. His two older ones made their way over, bashful and embarrassed.

“We’re sorry, Daddy. We were just playing,” his oldest stated.

Bringing his arms around all three of them, he pulled them into a tight hug. “I know, my loves. You just have to be careful, especially inside.” He could feel Alma and Errin lay their heads on his chest and shoulder, Leven still in his arms, holding onto his neck. “I think that finding out Leven has water powers calls for some cake, yes?”

All three of his children started jumping up and down eagerly, having inherited their mother’s love of cake.

Afterwards, the kids were luckily more pliant and subdued, allowing Rowan to give them baths and get them into their nightclothes. With all three of them tucked into bed, Rowan was looking forward to absolutely passing out once he reached his own.

He was almost asleep when the patter of little feet reached his ears. In the doorway was a tiny shadow with long hair: Alma. The small girl crossed the room to where Rowan was laying and crawled her way up onto the massive bed.

“Daddy,” she whispered. “Can I sleep here tonight?”

As he sat up and started rubbing her back, he replied, “Did you have a nightmare?”

The little one shook her head. “No, I just missed you.” Rowan’s heart melted at that though he couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle as he pulled his daughter into his arms.

“You just saw me five minutes ago, little bird.”

“But I miss Mommy, too. And I want to sleep in here.” She crossed her arms and pouted, Aelin through and through.

“Okay, okay. You can sleep in here. But you have to sleep, okay? No playing.”

“Okay, Daddy! I’ll sleep, don’t you worry.”

Rowan made to lay back down but instead of resting next to him, Alma hopped off the bed and padded once again toward the door. Like a tiny mother with her little ducklings following behind, three figures now walked toward his bed. One by one, his children climbed up onto the bed and tucked themselves in beside him. Leven, only two and still fairly small yet, couldn’t reach the bed himself so Rowan hauled him up.

“I don’t think I remember agreeing to having three little birds in my bed.” A chorus of giggles broke out. Soon enough, though, his children’s light snores reached his ears and lulled him to sleep.

- - - - -

Something woke Rowan the next morning, though it was still before dawn. As his bleary eyes sharpened, a familiar figure was standing by the side of the bed, taking in the scene.

“Fireheart,” he whispered. “You’re home.”

She bent down to kiss him, short and sweet though not without feeling. “I’m home.” Her gaze turned to their three little ones snuggled up against Rowan. “And why is everyone in my bed?”

Rowan let out a soft chuckle. “The little masterminds formed a plan and ganged up on me to sleep here. I didn’t know you’d be back yet. I can move them.”

Aelin shook her head. “No, leave them be. I’ll snuggle in on the other side.”

Moments later, their three children were sandwiched between the two of them.

“Soon we won’t be able to fit all of them in here.”

Rowan gave her a knowing smile. They hadn’t told the kids yet that Aelin was expecting another sibling again but he knew they’d all be overjoyed at the prospect of another baby to spoil and scheme with. Rowan reached his hand to rest on Errin’s back, sleeping in the middle. Aelin’s covered his moments later and Rowan couldn’t help but thinking he was so godsdamned lucky.

A/N: I’m slacking so hard on the prompts this past week but I’m hoping to get some out after this month is over! Hope you enjoyed!

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[highqueenofelfhame]

rowaelin // 5.4k words // masterlist

If there was anything that Aelin loved in the world, it was sweets. Evidently it was so profound that Rowan had already picked up on it in the few weeks they had been talking. From late morning into the early hours of the afternoon, he’d taken her around downtown Varese and showed her all of his favorite spots. 

Just like he knew her affinity for all things sugar related, Aelin knew that he didn’t like to indulge in heaven on earth. When he led her into four different bakeries and sweet shops it was the best kind of surprise. He may not eat them himself, but he had clearly thought about her sweet tooth when mentally mapping out their day together. 

By the time he drove her back to her apartment, not only did she have bags full of decorations to add to her new home, but several boxes of various sizes filled with everything from cake slices to truffles. There was a specialty candy shop where she had bought three pounds of candy for her desk at work, all of them a rainbow of colors and flavors wrapped in crystal clear paper. The boxes of chocolates would be placed into her fridge to avoid any melting. She would pick through those one by one and add her absolute favorites to a note in her phone for future purchases.

Saying goodbye was bittersweet, the way the dark chocolate truffles had been as they melted to nothing in her mouth. Rowan had to be awake early the next day and she had a thick file folder she needed to sift through to finish finalizing a presentation. Despite how badly neither of them wanted it to be over, the short window of time they had was closing. 

While they both hoped to reunite the following weekend there was a solid chance of it not happening. Rowan had to go out of town Friday night and wouldn’t be back until Sunday morning. He offered to make the drive for the afternoon anyway, but it felt silly. With travel came exhaustion, and even though Aelin had no qualms about staying curled up on a couch with him, it just didn’t make sense. 

Still, they hoped, and spent a little too-long leaning against her apartment building and sharing kisses between Rowan saying, “I should go.”

“So go then,” she whispered back against his lips, her own parting to tug on his bottom lip.

“You’re going to kill me if you keep doing that, love.” When he called her that, it did anything but make her want to stop. It sent embers sparking through her blood, flames licking up her thighs and between her legs. The feel of his hands against the sensitive skin of her neck, fingertips dancing over her jaw and sliding into her hair had her feeling like a teenager all over again.

“What if you came upstairs just for a few minutes?” There was no harm in that, right? He could help her carry her things upstairs then leave. Probably. 

“I think we both know that minutes would very quickly turn into hours, and hours would turn into us both falling asleep in your bed.” His words said one thing: that they shouldn’t. The husky, rough tone of his voice, however… That was saying something else. 

“I’m not tired,” she murmured, allowing his fingers to angle her head ever so slightly. Rowan’s lips dragged hot kisses along her jaw and neck, pausing to nip just over her pulse point. Involuntarily, she dropped the bag of sweets she held in her right hand and yanked him closer by the pocket of his jeans. The evidence of his wanting was pressed against her stomach and she moaned. Devilish lips tipped into a grin against her collarbone at the sound. Why did everything he did have to feel so fucking good?

“You would be by the time I was finished with you. I would have you exhausted past the point of being able to say anything but my name.”

“Who the fuck ever told you that you weren’t good at talking to women?” It came out more breathless than she intended it to, and he chuckled darkly against her neck as he made a path with his lips right back to hers. One more searing kiss and he finally pulled away, thumbs making circles over the line of her jaw. A whimper slipped out of her mouth before she could stop it and Rowan kissed her again. Like he couldn’t help it. Like he wanted to do anything but leave. 

“I’ll be back soon,” he promised with one last peck to the corner of her mouth. It took every ounce of self restraint to let him pull away, taking his body heat with him. Despite the balmy air she felt cold. 

Hoping to the gods that none of her chocolates had received too much damage from their short fall to the concrete, Aelin gathered the bags and watched as Rowan got into his car. A single dimple popped in his left cheek as he threw her a final grin over his shoulder. 

He might have said she would kill him, but it was going to be the opposite. She just knew it. 

~*~

“That’s the worst news,” Aelin grumbled, face morphing into a frown on his phone screen. Her voice filtered through the ear buds he wore while walking toward one of the SUV’s that would charter him and his teammates to the stadium. This weekend he played the Devils in the Wastes. 

“I’m not thrilled about it either.” And he wasn’t. They were going on another two week stretch of not being able to see each other, and no matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t make this weekend work. 

“You really don’t want me to drive down there?” It had been an on-and-off topic of discussion the last few days. Both of them heavily considered it. When it came down to it, it just didn’t make sense. If she did, his flight didn’t get in until Sunday evening. Rowan knew he would be wiped out from the match tonight, and she would be driving two hours to just sleep beside him. Monday morning she had to be at work at 9:30 at the latest, and it just wasn’t worth it to him.

Not that she wasn’t worth it– she was. The cost of those several hours of drive time paired with how tired she would be the next morning because of the commute? That was the part that he couldn’t justify. Once her physical health came into play, he was out. It would be another long week without seeing her, but he would suffer through it if it meant she was well rested and could function normally at work. 

“Of course I want you to, love,” he told her, voice dropping in volume to avoid any of his friends from overhearing. He would never hear the end of it if they did, especially if they got wind of how desperately he wanted to kiss her frown into a smile. It was impossible to do that through a facetime call, but the desire still crested in his chest.  Since when was Rowan Whitethorn such a ball of mush? “But you need to rest.”

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead. Besides, the two times we’ve slept together has been some of the best sleep I’ve ever had.” She sunk lower into her pillows, fighting back a yawn. There was a five hour time difference and it was already almost midnight back in Varese.

Rowan took a moment when he got to the car to toss his bag in the back before climbing in. Fenrys slid in next to him, immediately sticking his nose into business where it didn’t belong.

“Is that her?” Fen’s voice must have been picked up easily by the microphone because Aelin’s eyebrows lifted in curiosity. One look in the pup’s direction had him retreating out of Rowan’s bubble with hands up defensively. 

“Tell whoever that was I said hello,” she crooned, knowing by the look on Rowan’s face that he definitely wouldn’t be delivering that message. Another smile broke across her face. Gods above, she was beautiful. 

“Absolutely not. He’ll never leave me alone.”

“Is she talking to me?” Fenrys leaned over again, the top of his golden curls entering the frame of the phone, nearly blocking out Rowan’s entire face. “How the hell did Rowan manage to get a woman as pretty as you? I’m curious.” 

Fenrys wasn’t entirely wrong. How he had someone so blindingly beautiful to call at the end of the day was beyond him. All golden light, soft curves, and sharp wit, she was exactly the kind of woman he’d imagined himself being with. Sometimes he felt out of his mind insane when he thought about how quickly his feelings were growing for her. Like he was in the middle of the ocean, no life raft in sight. But he would gladly drown in it, in her.

Aelin’s laughter pulled him from his thoughts. Fenrys retreated out of frame when Rowan pinched his side sharply, the golden haired man hissing while swatting at Rowan’s hand. The girl that consumed his every thought was still smiling when he scooted over until he was flush against the door. Rowan tilted his phone screen so she could only see his face. “He’s a lot.”

“Is that your assistant couch?” 

“He– yeah. Yeah he’s my assistant.” Next to him, Fen snorted and shook his head but mercifully said nothing. Great. Now he had to deal with that can of worms. 

“I’ll let you go. Drive safe, text me all about the win, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow?” The win of his high school students. Fighting off a wince, Rowan promised he would before hanging up and stuffing his phone into the pockets of his sweats. The team logo burned against his thigh for the first time in his life. It wasn’t a big deal, doubted she would even care, but the longer he kept the secret the worse it would be when he finally came clean.

“Your assistant couch, aye? She still thinks you coach a high school team?” 

“I don’t want to hear it, Fenrys,” Rowan warned, voice low and promising pain if he pushed too hard. 

“You need to tell her. If you’re not worried–”

“I’m not worried and I don’t want to talk about it.” There was a finality to his tone that prompted Fenrys to nope right on out of that conversation. 

Truthfully, the only person he felt like he could talk it through with was Lorcan. But the towering brute in question was being so cagey about Aelin’s intentions that it wasn’t exactly on the table at the moment. Rowan understood his hesitancy, but they’d barely spoken of the sport. He knew she didn’t know who he was. That she wasn’t trying to wring money out of him the way… 

Rowan shook his head, locking those thoughts in an iron cage in the back of his mind. He would not go there. Not with her.

~*~ 

“How are things going?” Evalin Ashryver Galathynius leaned toward the camera as though she were buckling up to hear all sorts of tea spilled. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a low bun, not a single strand out of place. Her white t-shirt was plain, but Aelin was certain a blazer of some sort was hanging in the office somewhere.

“Really well, I think. The team is amazing so far, I haven’t had any issues. Nobody is pushing deadlines I set or anything like that.” Aelin picked through the dish on her desk, selecting a vibrant green candy that she quickly popped into her mouth. Evalin waited for the plastic paper to stop crinkling before she answered. 

“I didn’t have a single doubt about that. I meant your work life balance. You have a tendency to struggle with it. You always have.” Something about the way her mother spoke had Aelin narrowing her eyes. Evalin’s lips twitched in effort to hide a smile, her fingers fiddling with the pearls that hung from her throat.

“You talked to Aedion, didn’t you,” Aelin asked flatly, lips in a firm line to hide a smile of her own. Vultures, the lot of them. Always so eager to share any shred of gossip where her love life was concerned. 

“Well, I certainly wasn’t hearing it from you!”

“I didn’t even tell him about it!” Aelin cried, throwing her hands in the air as she slumped back into her chair. Still, she grinned. “Lysandra swore she would still keep my secrets after they started dating, but I clearly can’t trust her anymore.”

“Nonsense,” Evalin’s bejeweled hand swiped through the air in dismissal. “Tell me about this young man that you met.” 

A heavy sigh loosed from Aelin’s chest as she turned the candy over in her mouth, the flavor unusual while she thought about Rowan. Where did she even begin? There truly wasn’t even much to report on, and she said as much. “He works a lot, coaches a high school soccer team— oh don’t look at me like that.”

“You secretly love the sport, admit it.” Aelin’s eyes rolled. 

“I loved watching Aedion play, but since he’s out and I have no obligations—”

“Outside of being the daughter and granddaughter to two men that own two different teams,” Evalin interjected, and Aelin winced. Both of her eyes squeezed shut as she covered her face with her hands, her mother’s gasp enough to have her peeking through her fingers. 

“What the hell does he think your last name is?” There were few instances where Evalin cursed, and that this had been deemed appropriate told her it was a bit more major than she had been chalking it up to. 

“He… doesn’t? It hasn’t come up.”  It really hadn’t.  She didn’t know his last name, either. Aelin would get around to it. How often had it been an issue before? She frowned, knowing the answer without having to say it. Over and over men had sought her out as a way to get their way in with her father, hopeful for a lifelong career.  Besides, how do you slide that into a normal conversation anyway? By the way my family is worth billions and I myself am worth millions, please don’t date me for my money. 

“You know I’ve had too many instances of people weaseling their way in to get to Dad, or Papa, or our money.  Not that I think Rowan would, because I don’t. But it wasn’t a first date conversation, and the last few times we’ve been together I genuinely haven’t thought about it.” It was the truth. Aelin didn’t feel like the daughter of a family with more numbers attached to the bank account than she cared to count. She was just, blissfully, Aelin. The same girl she was on holidays, curled up on the couch under blankets with her family around. No public image, staggering bank account. Just her.

“Does he know you founded and run Fireheart?” Aelin peeled her lips back from her teeth in a silly smile that was more of a grimace. Even on the computer camera, she could make out the faint tinge of green that stained her lips. “Gods above, Aelin.” 

“He thinks I teach dance and piano at local studios.” Her words were mumbled and muffled by the hand she’d placed over her mouth. “Which isn’t a lie! I do teach dance and piano. Just not… currently while opening the new office.” 

When she said it out loud, it was so, so, so much worse. The blossoming relationship was already built on a lie. It wasn’t one that really affected anything, but it was still a lie. Even if it was just by omission. 

Evalin opened her mouth to speak, but Aelin opened hers first and let the candy fall from her tongue onto her desk. Instead of whatever she had been about to say, her mom snorted despite her brows knitting together with worry. 

“What?” Aelin asked, using a tissue to toss the candy into the bin beside her. 

“You look a little pale, my love. Are you feeling okay?”

“It’s probably the lighting in here,” she gestured toward the ceiling her mother couldn’t see. The sun had set a while ago, leaving the fluorescent lights to cast an unflattering light over her features through the camera. A mental note was made to do something about light fixtures in here before saying, “I should go. I have a few things to finish up before I head home.” 

“I want to hear more about this man, Aelin. I mean it.” 

“I’ll tell you everything as soon as there’s a development,” she swore, grabbing her water bottle to wash away the odd taste the candy left in her mouth. 

As soon as their goodbyes were said and the call was ended,  Aelin fished through the bowl,  plucked out every green piece within, and dumped them all in the trash. 

~*~

An intensely severe frown pulled her lips down as she sighed and shoved the bowl of pasta she made as far from her as she could manage. Something had smelled just a little wrong while she was cooking, but she managed to wave it off as the scents of dinner mingled with the air fresheners she had plugged into the wall. It appeared that a fridge clean out was in order because the pasta just tasted bad. Aelin wasn’t a chef by any means, but typically the meals she made were better than this. A sour and metallic taste lingered in her mouth despite her desperate attempts to wash it away with water, soda– anything. 

She hadn’t felt well all day. In fact, the golden blonde had appeared peaky enough that several of her staff members inquired about how she was feeling. Even though she didn’t want to, Aelin had ended up leaving for the day a mere three hours after arriving in the office, barely making it through a meeting with her entire staff. When she got home she parked herself on the couch after making a simple pasta with garlic and basil which clearly hadn’t worked out. Neither had dinner the night before — something about the chinese take-out made her violently gag and spit it back into the container. It was now in the trash, a graveyard for everything she’d tried to consume in the last twenty-four hours.

It was easy to decide against eating— she wasn’t really hungry. More than anything she was trying to eat because she needed to. Breakfast was commonly skipped and normally by noon her stomach was rioting to be filled. Now, however, she found herself sinking into the couch and tugging a blanket over her body for warmth. All she wanted to do was sleep. 

Less than five minutes later, a storm of nausea, fatigue, and dizziness overwhelmed her. Aelin’s mouth began to water, a sign that soon bile would be rising up the back of her throat. She stumbled through her apartment, knees slamming onto the tile of her bathroom floor just in time for her to empty the contents of her stomach into the toilet. Tears heated her eyes, pricking at the corners as she hurled and hurled until there was nothing left.

As gross as it felt she rested her forehead against the edge of the seat, willing her stomach and breathing to calm. Chest still heaving in gags that produced nothing, she took several deep breaths through her nose and out through her mouth. It would help in the long run, surely, but the smell of toilet water clung to her nose so much that she could nearly taste it. Drool pooled in her mouth and she quickly spit into the porcelain bowl, wiping the remnants from her mouth with the collar of her shirt. 

 Hours seemed to pass before being able to muster the energy to rise on shaky limbs and head back toward her room. There were no thoughts but to slide between her sheets and pull the duvet over her head, the hope that sleep would cure all her problems.

The nap lasted for so long that when she woke, the sky was darkening. Shades of pink and orange and blue peered between clouds as the sun began to disappear below the horizon. Somehow she had managed to sleep the entire day without waking a single time. 

Aelin patted around the bed in search of her phone, remembering with a low groan that it was still in the living room. Though she didn’t want to move, didn’t want to provoke her weak stomach, she found it in herself to retrieve a bottle of water and her cell before returning to her bed. Steady and full deep breaths kept her from feeling she might be sick again as she typed out a message to Rowan, discarding her phone onto the pillow beside her as she turned on the tv for something to watch. 

Aelin didn’t even make it through the first episode before her body was lulled back into a deep, dreamless sleep. 

~*~ 

Hot water poured over his head, snakes down his body in rivets. Rowan would have been content to stand in the shower for the next few hours if it would ease the aches he felt all over his body.  

Lucky for him, tonight he would take a few extra minutes because they had played Varese tonight and the drive to Aelin’s apartment would be fifteen minutes instead of two hours. Though he had driven down with the team on a charter bus, Rowan would take an Uber to her apartment. Fenrys was going to drive down tomorrow. Sunday afternoon they would return to Doranelle for another week of grueling practice. 

Rowan shut off the water and wrung his hair out before wrapping a towel around his waist and heading to his locker. All around him his teammates shouted back and forth about the game, a few clapping him on his back when he passed. He had played particularly well tonight, leaving his soul out on the field like he did every week. His legs were sore enough to prove it. 

By the time he dressed, bid farewell to everyone, and made his way outside the Uber was waiting. In the safety of the backseat of the car he opened his phone to read the text he’d missed from Aelin during the game. 

I think I food poisoned myself. Entirely bed ridden. Save yourself and don’t come over tonight. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. 

She followed it up with a heart emoji as if that would make him worry less. Like hell he wasn’t going to go make sure she was okay when he was so close. Even if he had been in Doranelle, or getting off an airplane, he would have driven to make sure she had everything she needed. 

Because of the late hour, nearly eleven at night, traffic was scarce and it was a short trip to her apartment. The contents of his overnight bag hit him in the shoulder repeatedly as he took the steps two at a time. It was irrational to be so worried when she said it was just food poisoning, but he knew of people that had made trips to the hospital over such a thing. Dehydration was a very strong risk if she wasn’t able to keep her fluids down. 

It bothered him just a little bit that he had to knock on the door and potentially wake her up, but the idea of her withering away alone was worse. With a firm knock, he bit the bullet and waited. 

And waited. 

And waited. 

Rowan knocked harder, unease making his stomach turn until he heard the soft padding of feet across wood floors. Moments later the door was cracked open, a pale and exhausted Aelin peering between the space she had created. It took her a before it registered it was him, and the frown that took up her entire face quickly turned to confusion.

“Hi, baby.”

“I texted you,” she rasped, pausing to clear her throat as she opened the door all the way for him. “Did you not get it?”

“I did, and you’re out of your mind if you really thought I would go back to Doranelle without at least checking on you.” Aelin laughed softly, barely letting him get the door closed before her arms were around his waist. She nuzzled her face against his chest and took a deep breath. Rowan carefully eased his bag to the floor before gathering her up in his arms and carrying her straight back to bed. A low whine escaped her lips when he pulled away, but he promised he would be back in just a minute. 

True to his word, he returned less than a minute later with a full water bottle in hand that he placed on her nightstand. Golden hair fell across her face as she sat up and took a tentative sip, then carefully lowered herself back onto the bed. Aelin was quick to snuggle up against him when he climbed in next to her. Kisses were pressed to her forehead, cheeks, nose, and a soft one to her lips while he brushed her hair out of her face.

“I’m glad you came,” she whispered, eyes already closed, her breathing evening out. 

“Me, too.” 

~*~

Aelin was, literally, sick and fucking tired. Though Rowan had taken amazing care of her, held her hair while she vomited the next day, and ensured she drank enough water to stay hydrated, the food poisoning seemed to linger over the course of the following week. Two days ago she had been feeling absolutely perfect and thought it was over, but the next afternoon half the office heard her throwing up. 

Most of the week she’d been locked away in her office, forcing herself to make it through each work day until it was time to go home. Every night she was getting a full night's sleep– gods, she was getting more sleep than she had in years. But she was just so wholly exhausted right down to her bones that she had little energy for anything else. 

By the time she managed to crawl up the stairs and fall into bed, she was almost asleep before her head even hit the pillow. Twice this week she had woken up in the same clothes she had worn the day before. It was so out of character for her, but she had been really sick, and it did seem to be sticking around. Whatever she caught, her body couldn’t shake. 

It was why she was working from home, her laptop open and papers scattered around her bed. If she was contagious, she wasn’t going to expose her employees more than she already had. Not only could she not have half the office out for a week, but she cared about them too much to risk it. 

On her lunch break she had just made a bowl of chicken noodle soup when her cell rang. She immediately answered, assuming it would be Rowan calling to check up on her. Multiple times a day he would call and ask a laundry list of questions. Her answers never changed between morning, afternoon, and night, but he still asked to satisfy the anxiety he had. It was sweet.

“Hey,” she chirped, determined to sound less miserable than she was.

“How are you doing, babe?” Not Rowan, but Lysandra. 

“Ugh,” she groaned, leaning back onto the pillows and fiddling with the lid of her water bottle. “I’ve been sick all week. It sucks.” 

“Weren’t you sick over the weekend, too?” 

“Mhm. I didn’t know food poisoning lasted for so godsdamn long, but here we are.” In a living nightmare, dying a slow, slow death. Stomach muscles she didn’t know existed ached, her arms and legs felt like limp noodles. The bruises on her knees from kneeling on hard floors all week were probably permanent. 

“That’s because it doesn’t,” Lysandra said, curiosity in her voice. “Are you still throwing up?” 

“Not all the time, but it’s a solid fifty-fifty when I try to eat anything. The rest of the time I’m asleep because I just can’t seem to–” Perfect with the comedic timing, a gigantic yawn interrupted her– “stay awake.”

“Just curious,” the second word was drawn out, the end of it sounding like a snake. “When were you supposed to get your period?”

 Aelin snorted. Hard. Even though Lysandra had posed the question as a joke more than anything else, Aelin still swiped down from the top of her screen to double check what day it was. It wasn’t a possibility– she was on birth control and they had used a condom. Yet when she saw the date, her eyes were glued to the white numbers on the screen. Her silence drew out a little too long. Lysandra said something, maybe her name, but it didn’t quite register. 

“Let me call you back,” she said, throwing the blankets off her legs and scrambling out of bed. The work papers went flying, drifting slowly back to the floor. Even her laptop had been flipped over in the chaos but that didn’t matter. Not with the rising panic in her gut working its way up her throat.

She didn’t even bother to change out of her pajamas before running out of her apartment, down the stairs, and around the corner to the drugstore. 

~*~

Less than half an hour later, Aelin was propping her phone up against the bathroom mirror. The toilet was out of frame, but she felt like she could deal with this whole situation better if Lysandra was with her. It was silly to be so worked up over it, but she was also late. While her period did have a tendency to give or take a few days, sometimes a week, it had never been this late. As much as she could try to chalk it up to a million different things, she wouldn’t know a moment of peace until she was throwing the negative pregnancy test in the trash. 

“It’s going to be okay.” Lysandra was sitting on the couch she shared with Aedion. Thankfully he was at work and couldn’t witness the first pregnancy scare Aelin had dealt with since college. 

She pulled multiple boxes of tests from the paper bag and laid them out. Through the camera, her eyes met Lysandra’s and she had to brace her arms on the counter to keep from falling over. Her legs felt like jello and the nausea was setting in. This time, though, she felt it had less to do with being sick and more to do with anxiety. 

“This is ridiculous,” she mumbled, mostly to herself. “We were careful. I haven’t missed even one day of my birth control. I’m probably late because of work stress.”

“But we have to make sure.” Lysandra’s voice was soft, gentle. Though she knew they would be joking about this as soon as the tests reflected a negative result, right now her best friend was cool, calm, and collected. Everything that Aelin wasn’t. 

With shaking hands she opened the first box, removing both tests from their wrappers. She moved out of frame, the porcelain cold against her skin. It was an effort to control the tremors of her fingers in order to get the little caps off, and then she was forcing all the urine out of her body and onto the wicks of those stupid pieces of plastic. 

“You got more pale,” Lys noted, frowning heavily as soon as Aelin stepped back into frame. 

“Yeah, well,” she mumbled in response, putting the two tests side by side on the counter. “I feel like my entire nervous system is trying to escape my body.”

“Three minutes from now we’ll be laughing this off. It’ll be a fun story to tell Rowan the next time you see him.” Despite herself, Aelin laughed softly but it was swiftly cut off when her eyes glanced down at the tests. 

It hadn’t even been a full minute yet, but a response was staring up at her clear as day. She picked both of them up as ice slid through her entire body. From her head to her toes, everything was cold. Whatever blood pumped through her body had fled, soaked straight to the floor and taken her stomach with it. The shaking in her hands was bad enough that when she turned them toward the camera, it took Lys a second to be able to read it. They made eye contact again, faces mirror images of the other: wide eyes, open mouths, pale skin.

“Holy fuck.”

@elentiyawhitethorn @autumnbabylon @fancysludgeshoelamp  @wordsafterhours @live-the-fangirl-life @the-hospitality-of-knives @tangledraysofsunshine @readandlisten @westofmoon @rowanaelinn  @morganofthewildfire @writtenonreceipts @feynightlight @emster1622-blog @scarblx @secondstartorightand @thefaetrove @loveyatopluto @actuallybarb @peppermint-fae @the-devils-own @scottmcgivemeacall @livingmylifeforme  @wordsafterhours @foreverfallingforthestars @llyncooljones @emily-gsh @loosesimplicity @emilyrose111294  @charlizeed @aelinchocolatelover @cretaceous-therapod @sayosdreams @fireheart-violet @the-regal-warrior @punkassbookjockey26 @shyvioletcat

#call it what you want #ciwyw3 #rowan whitethorn #aelin galaythynius #tog #throne of glass #rowan x aelin #aelin x rowan #rowaelin #rowaelin fic #rowaelin fanfiction #tog fic #tog fanfic #rowaelin fanfic #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass fic #fanfiction #writing #soccer au

[leiawritesstories]

throne of glass twitter/instagram/influencers fic? love your work!!💞

🥰🥰🥰 awwwww thank you!! i LOVE this concept omg let's see what the brain decides to crank out...

word count: ~1k

warnings: none?

enjoy!!

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

Aelin threw her hands into the air in exasperation. "What do you mean, my numbers are dropping? I've been watching the charts myself, I'm not an idiot." She quieted for a moment, listening to the person on the other end of the call. "Yes, Lys, I know my content hasn't changed in a while. The hell do you want me to do about that?"

"Shake shit up, Ae," Lysandra returned. The sharp-tongued woman had been Aelin's manager for almost four years now, and while Aelin was indebted to Lys's expertise, she wasn't afraid to call her out on what she gracefully called her "buzzword bullshit."

"And just what brilliant thing are you going to suggest that I do to 'shake shit up,' my dear and very wise manager?" Aelin drawled.

Lys snorted a laugh. "I think it's time for a boyfriend reveal."

"Absolutely not. You know how Rowan feels about being on my social media. I'm not going to violate his trust like that."

"I'm not saying it has to be a full reveal," Lys clarified. "I just think you should consider posting some kind of reveal that you, the famously single power woman who only loves her book boyfriends, has a special someone in her life."

Aelin considered her manager's idea. "That's....well, that's not as terrible as some of your ideas have been." She chuckled at Lys's playful scoff. "I'll talk to Rowan, see what he thinks. Bye!" She waited for Lys to say goodbye and then ended the call and flung her phone across the room, landing it on her plush, pale grey sofa.

Rowan strolled out from the office, where he'd probably been watching her animated phone call through the glass doors. "What's wrong, love?"

"Fuckin' everything," she grumbled.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to his chest in comfort. "What specifically has you all frustrated, Ae?"

"You're too perceptive," she huffed, but a half smile curled her lips. "I... Lys told me my engagement numbers are flattening, and I love my audience and don't want them to be bored with me." She blew out a sigh. "Lys thinks I should do some kind of relationship reveal, because that shit spikes numbers like crazy."

"Do you think it's a good idea?" Rowan sat down on the couch, tugging Aelin with him.

"As an idea? Yeah, it's a great idea, and it's worked for literally every other influencer who's every posted about their relationships." She twisted the ring around her left middle finger. "As an idea for me? I'm not so sure. I won't make you do anything you're not interested in doing, and I know how you feel about being on my pages."

"What if I agreed?"

Aelin's jaw dropped. She pulled away from Rowan's side and faced him, her stunned gaze scanning his face for any sign that this was some kind of prank. "What?!"

He chuckled. "Let me explain. Yes, I heard you and Lys on the phone, but you knew that." She laughed softly and nodded. "Here's the thing. I don't want my image to be splashed all over the internet. However, if you're willing to agree, I'm okay with little pieces of us being out there."

She raised a brow. "Can you explain what you mean by 'little pieces of us?'"

"Like this." He grabbed her phone, swiped to the camera, and took a photo of their shoes lined up by the front door. "Little things--bits of our home but definitely not all of it, things like a close-up of our hands or matching outfits or something. Basically, I don't want my whole self in photos that you post, but I'm okay with the world knowing that you're mine."

"So possessive," she teased. She settled back down onto the couch, took her phone from his hand, opened to her notes app, and started typing ideas. "I'm honestly a little uncertain that I'm not dreaming, but yes, I agree to your terms."

"So formal," he teased, poking her in the side.

She yelped and scooted away from his wicked fingers. "Ro!" He grinned and held up his hands in surrender, and she relaxed. "You're absolutely sure about this?"

"I am." He laced his tattooed fingers with her ringed ones, stroking his callused thumb over her knuckles. "Call me a caveman all you want, but I'm ready to tell the world you're mine."

"Caveman," she snickered. Swiftly, almost without thinking, she picked up her phone, swiped to the camera, and captured a few different photos of her and Rowan's intertwined fingers, the aesthetically pleasing contrast of his tan, tattooed skin against her pale, silver-ringed fingers and manicured nails. Humming with satisfaction, she showed him her favorite photo. "What do you think?"

He swept a brief, appraising glance over the picture on her phone. "I think it's perfect." Smoothly, he rolled them over so she was half-sprawled on the couch and his arms were caging her in in the best possible way. "Why don't you go ahead and post it, and then we'll see how long I can keep you from checking your notifications?"

"Are you calling me addicted?" Aelin faked a dramatic gasp. "Why, how could you?"

Rowan chuckled. "Hardly, love. I'm just remarking that you're always glued to your phone right after you post, and I can think of a few ways to keep you...relaxed."

She smirked in that slow way that always set his blood afire. "What if I don't want to relax?"

"Then I'll wear you out."

Heat raced between her legs. "Rowan?"

"Hmm?" His hand--which had been inching steadily up her thigh--stilled. "Talk to me, love."

She exhaled deeply. "I...I need you to tell me yes one more time before I post this."

Quietly, firmly, Rowan reached over, locked his steady emerald eyes on her, and tapped the post button with his own finger.

Swiftly, Aelin put her phone on "do not disturb," turned off the screen, and tossed it onto the side table. "Ro?"

"Yes?"

Taking his hand, she settled it squarely between her legs. "I'm stressed about that post, love. I want to relax."

"That's my good girl," he murmured into her neck.

Then he stood, lifted her effortlessly into his arms, strode down the hallway to their bedroom, and kicked the door shut with a resounding slam.

~~~

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 #drabble #answered prompt #kinda a drabble lmao #rowaelin #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #aelin the influencer au #and rowan the insta boyfriend #and lysandra the manager #we love a supportive man #influencer au #except idk how to write influencers #lmaooooo #fluff #fluffy little drabble fic #surprise it's fluff!!!

[wordsafterhours]

Hawk White

Author's Note: This idea started with a TikTok I saw, talking about a girl falling for her older brother's best friend, and that TikTok was based off a video clip. Anyways, the idea had been stuck in my head. Enjoying this unedited one shot.

Triggers: a little cussing never hurt anyone*

Word count: 4.5-5k?

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

Aelin should have known that when she woke up this morning with a splitting headache as though someone was trying to drill through her skull, that it was a precursor to how the day was going to go. But instead of going back to bed, like she wanted, she had drunk a large glass of water and taken two ibuprofens before getting dressed to conquer the day. 

The end of senior year’s fall semester was rapidly approaching, and her professors had been laying on the material relentlessly. Between a full course load of twenty-one hours, labs, and work, there weren’t enough hours in the day. Quite frankly, it was amazing she was doing more than treading water. With the exception of one B on a paper, things had been going her way.

Had. 

That was no longer the case. First it was the headache, next it was the stalled train, preventing her from getting into Orynth proper from her house, and when she finally made it to University, a lecture covering most of the content for the final, was five minutes from being over. She had pleaded with Professor Darrow to let her come by during official office hours to go over the content. He hadn’t wanted any part of it and made some off-handed remark about how he wouldn’t reward tardiness.

Aelin, for once had held her tongue, not wanting to reap any unnecessary consequences from Darrow by arguing how she’d never been late before and had the best grade in the class. No one liked a brownnoser or something like that. By staying over, she was late to her chem lab and ended up being partners with Cairn. The only thing he was good for was making arrogance his only personality trait and sleeping his way through the university’s cheerleading squad. 

His ego was stifling and because he was used to women falling at his feet, he’d never forgiven Aelin for not throwing herself at him. Now, he looked for any excuse to make snide comments when she walked past in lecture or knock ingredients over on her lab table when they were doing independent study. For two hours, she’d had to endure his hovering over her shoulder as she did what was supposed to be “group work” and then had the audacity to criticize them being docked two points when she missed a plus sign on one of the chemical formulas.  

When noon rolled around, she was two seconds from telling off the gods, and going home to her bed—it might have stopped the downward spiral in its tracks if she had. Alas, she had promised her boss that she’d inventory the new shipment of books that had come in. She’d spent hours organizing the books, putting them in careful stacks, and double-checking what needed to be put out on the shelves. This was something she’d done a million times, but in the monotony of it, her brain had wandered back to the events of the morning, and a stack of first editions had been the casualty of forgotten coffee. 

Never in her four years of working for Emrys had anything like that transpired. When he found her crying on the floor, coffee on her pants and the books, he didn’t fire her. He didn’t even chastise her. He simply bent down and slipped his arms around her, repeating “it’s okay, it’s okay” until her shoulders stopped shaking. After the mess had been cleaned up, he told her to go home, and they’d figure out what to do with the ruined books another day.

Now, she was lying face first in the bed that she never should have left to begin with. And her head was pounding again. With a loud sniffle, she turned, cracking open a swollen lid, staring at her discarded school materials. The number of waking hours left to get assignments done were dwindling—she needed to get up and get to work. Getting shot at or runover by a car sounded more appealing than academia.  

Blindly, her hand rifled through the discarded backpack, looking for her phone. 

“Aha!” she declared excitedly when she found it. There were two missed texts from Lysandra, probably asking her why she was late to lecture this morning, but those were for later. Flipping through the rest of her notifications, she smiled to herself when she noticed Rowan had a new Instagram post up. 

Rowan Whitethorn, her older cousin Aedion’s best friend, and her secret but not so secret friend. He was almost four years her senior, just like her cousin. He’d transferred from Doranelle his last year of high school and was a walk on for their high school’s rugby team. He was the talk of the entire school and one day, Aedion brought him over to family dinner, and he seamlessly joined in teasing her like he’d been doing it forever. Aelin had never regretted Aedion living with them until then.   

Rowan was constantly hanging out with Aedion, disrupting her peace, and filling the house with loud cheering and rambunctious behavior only befitting of teenage boys. Every interaction just honed her dislike; gods was he downright arrogant and annoying. It didn’t matter looked he walked off the page of a modeling magazine with his striking silver hair, strong jaw line, defined muscles, and sinful green eyes, he was the proverbial thorn in her side. If you’d asked her then, she would have swore an oath that he went out of his way antagonize her whenever the chance presented itself.  

But, as the summer between her freshman and sophomore year was fading into August, something changed. She wasn’t sure when it happened but one day, the teasing lessened and when he came to pick up Aedion, he invited her. Her cousin’s neck had about broken after, their mutual aversion to one another no secret. Weeks later, when the boys left for college south in Adarlan, Aelin thought their newfound friendship would dissipate just as quickly as it had come.

Four years later, she’d considered Rowan to be one of her best friends, and the person who knew her best. 

She clicked on the notification, the app immediately opening to his story. He looked so happy standing outside one of the large, opalescent buildings in downtown Orynth, arms resting atop Aedion and Fenrys’ shoulders as they smiled widely at the camera. She snorted reading the caption: “The Boys are Back in Town”.  

Their architecture firm Cadre had just opened last week but now it seemed all the more official being posted on his social media platform. Her best friend deserved all the happiness, he’d work so hard on bringing his dream to life, they all had. Her painted fingers were dialing his phone number before her brain could register what she was doing. 

“Hello?” his lilting voice questioned after one ring.

“Hey.”

“Hey you,” he greeted his voice having lost its seriousness.

“I saw you’re Instagram official now,” Aelin commented excitedly.

“Yeah.” His short reply sounded sheepish, and she knew his cheeks were tinged pink. Sometimes it was silly how shy he could become with compliments. He worked hard but had this impression that it didn’t need to be recognized, at least not as often as she congradulated him. 

“It’s bad ass! I’m proud of you, you’ve worked so hard. You should be putting it everywhere you can.”

“Everywhere I can, huh?” he quipped. 

It was her turn to blush, the tips of her ears burning uncomfortably at the innuendo. “Rowan!”

“After all this time, you’re still so easy to tease, Ace. I can’t help it,” he laughed. She imagined his green eyes were full of mirth, lips pulled up in a wicked smirk.

“Mhmm.” She usually would poke back at him, but the day’s events had left her in a rut that she didn’t feel like subduing just now. The other end of the phone grew silent—he’d picked up on her mood.

“Ace?” he asked quietly. 

“Yeah, Ro?” 

“What’s wrong?” He sounded worried, genuinely so. It was one of the things she loved most about him, that he always handled her with such care.

Sighing loudly, Aelin started recalling all the bad things that had happened to her since she’d woken up, making sure to highlight how she’d ruined books, including an extremely rare Terrasen history volume detailing the origins of the country itself. Aelin wasn’t sure where Emrys had found it or why it was even in the boxes of other books, but it didn’t matter now that it was covered in coffee.

“Do you have plans?” he asked loudly, sounding a little out of breath. 

“Well, not really. I mean I have homework but when don’t I?”

“I’m coming to get you,” he said, his tone stern and leaving no room for disagreement. 

She squeaked, surprise forcing her to her feet. “You’re what?”

“I’m coming to get you. You sound like you just need to decompress. We can go get ice cream or something.”

“Ro, I love that you want to hang out with me, but I know you’ve probably had a long day. And you’ve been so busy with the launch of Cadre. Honestly, I’ll just work on my paper and go to bed.” As much as she wanted to lay eyes on his handsome face and melt into a hug while being wrapped in the smell of pine and snow, she could do without. Aedion had looked ragged every time he dropped by the house lately, and it was likely Rowan was the same. They both didn’t have a healthy sense of self-preservation when it came to work-life balance.

“I’m already pulling out of the parking garage and heading that way. You can’t deny me after I ran down ten flights of stairs instead of waiting on the elevator; that’d be cruel even for you.” The devious half of her wanted to deny him, just a little, to see what his response would be, but she pocketed the idea instead.

“I’m only agreeing because you mentioned ice cream.” 

Lie. A complete lie. The mere promise of confined, alone time with her best friend would undoubtedly soothe her frazzled nerves like salve on a burn. Witty banter over the phone had been expected, what she wanted, but in true Rowan fashion, he knew her better than she knew herself.

“I’d say I was wounded, being second to ice cream, but your penchant for sweets is unparalleled.” 

“I make no apologies.” 

“Naturally. I’m exiting, I’ll see you soon if people aren’t driving obnoxiously slow,” he sounded annoyed already. Pained even. 

Aelin snorted. “Not everyone drives an expensive sports car.”

“They should,” he muttered before ending the call. 

Rolling off the bed, she headed straight into the bathroom. Her mascara was smeared, eyes puffy and red, and what looked like dried snot to the side of her nose. “Disgusting,” she shuddered turning on the faucet. Meticulously, she washed the makeup from her face and applied a tinted moisturizer once it was dry. It wasn’t perfect but she didn’t seem as ruddy now, and Rowan had seen her on more than one occasion looking less put together. 

She ran a brush through her long blonde hair and slipped into her faded Orynth University sweater. It was her favorite, its dark green coloring reminding her of Rowan’s eyes. Not that she’d ever admit that. Ever. It was one of the secrets she would take to her grave. Bounding down the stairs, she was surprised to find the house blessedly unoccupied. In the back of her brain, it seemed like she knew they wouldn’t be here. Last week, her mother had mentioned a work function but in true Aelin fashion, her attention had lapsed midway through the conversation. 

At least one merciful thing was happening today—she wouldn’t have to explain to her parents where she was going. Or listen to them dote over Rowan. You would think he had been born into the family with the way they were invested in him. It was nauseating at times. Peeking through the open curtains, Aelin’s turquoise gaze caught sight of Rowan’s sportscar coming up the long driveway and she headed out the door. 

He pulled up the car, putting it into park, before he got out and came around. It took every ounce of self-control to not drop her jaw. He was wearing a tailored button down, white, rolled up over his forearms, showing off part of his tattoo. Three buttons were open at the top, providing another view of black ink as it creeped up the left side of his neck. His pants hugged his muscled legs well, tight enough to show he worked out, but not enough to eclipse professionalism. They were the same color as her sweater. 

He looked positively sinful and the idea of confined time with him no longer seemed like a reward, but punishment instead. “Here,” he said warmly in greeting, bending to open the door for her. Smiling tightly, afraid of what might pass her lips if they parted, she slid into the cognac-colored seat. The door didn’t shut until her seatbelt was buckled. 

“What do you say we drive around first before ice cream? I don’t think you really want to get back to homework,” he speculated as he shut his own door. Sinking her teeth into her bottom lip, she rolled it back and forth in trepidation, hesitant to agree to his proposition. An unexpected tug of her head sideways caused her to shriek loudly in surprise. 

“Don’t start!” she chastised, looking sideways at him, eyes narrowed in annoyance. 

“You didn’t answer me,” Rowan explained, a hint of a smile on his face. 

“I was trying to decide if I could wait. You know my day has been godsdamned awful,” she defended dismally.

“You don’t always have to be perfect, Ace.” His words draped heavily across her and she dropped her head, staring intently at her fingers as she took out her anxiety on her fingernails. They’d be bloody nubs soon if she didn’t relax. 

“That’s easy for you to say.” 

He let out a breathy sigh, fingers drumming against the gear shift. “It is now. It took me a long time to realize I didn’t have to be perfect all the time and my life is better for it. I was in my own way for too long. Cadre almost didn’t happen because I was ready to throw in the towel when roadblocks kept happening. I felt like I wasn’t working hard enough. Making the right decisions. That I had to have all of the right answers when someone asked me a question,” he confessed quietly and full of conviction. 

“It’s daunting sometimes,” Aelin whispered, choosing to look out the window and away from him before she proceeded, “to live in the shadow of Aedion and you.” 

“Huh?” Without looking at him, she just knew his eyes were wide and his silver eyebrows had probably disappeared into his hairline. 

“My parents are so proud of you two. They constantly talk about you guys. At dinner, to friends, the work functions. The Orynth Gazette article that came out last week when your business opened… it’s already framed and on the wall. Both of you played Rugby in college and graduated Magna Cum Laude. You had two published articles in an architecture magazine before you were even a junior. I’ve never seen my parents be disappointed about either of you.” 

She cleared her throat, swallowing down the well of tears trying to crawl out. “Me? I made one B, one B, and they looked at me like confessed that I’d murdered our dog.” A loud sniffle filled the car as she continued to stare angrily at the darkening pine trees dotting the side of the road. 

“Did you ever think maybe they’re disappointed for you and not at you?” 

She laughed, the sound mangled, sounding more like a sob. “I still have a perfect GPA; I’m set to graduate with more hours than required of me. I’ve already submitted job applications into the city’s top scientific research lab and I’m going to be part of a published study on Ghost Leopard genetic mutations. They literally can only talk about that stupid B.” 

“This is not me being on their side—" his lilting voice said hesitantly. She leaned her head against the glass but flicked her gaze to him in silent permission to continue. Her body was stiff with anticipation. “—but maybe they act like that because they know you’re capable of always achieving at or above excellence. You set that bar a long time ago Aelin and I think they’re used to it. And you’re used to it. You are your own worst critic and if you set the expectation that it’s okay to do less sometimes, I think they’ll follow suit.” 

“Maybe you should tell them that,” Aelin muttered under her breath, angry that what Rowan had said made some sense. 

“I will. You know I will.”

“I know, but I don’t want you to get into the middle of it. I’m grown and I do possess the capability to tell them off.” Well, she should anyways but both were in high-powered jobs and could be intimidating without trying to be. “I think.” 

“Are you at least feeling better?” Rowan prodded. 

“Yeah, I am. You’ve just listened to me whine and whine today, I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t ever have to hid how you feel with me, okay? Friends don’t do that. Your troubles are my troubles.” His expression had become somber, green eyes darker than normal. Aelin thought he even looked a little mad but that didn’t match with the gentleness of his voice. 

“I knew there was a reason we were friends.” 

“And here I thought you kept me around because I buy you sweets,” he smirked. 

Her agreement to his statement was caught off when an annoying dinging sounded from the dashboard. Rowan’s lips pulled into a frown as he stared at the instrument panel. “Gods, the fact that this thing was basically empty earlier slipped my fucking mind. I’m sorry Ace, ice cream will have to wait longer.” 

“You’re just gripping because fuel prices make you cry.” It was her time to pick on him. Aelin had heard more about this car than she’d care to admit. She knew it’s time to go from zero to sixty, a whopping 2.8 seconds.  How many horsepower the engine was, its production time, when it came off the line in Doranelle… even the name of the damn paint color, Hawk White. It was Rowan’s pride and joy and it only liked premium gas. 

“I’ll never admit to it.” 

“Mhmm,” she replied, tabling his denial for now. 

The annoying dinging sounded twice more before he pulled into one of the city’s fancier gas stations. Aelin only ever came here when she was with him. Her reliable SUV didn’t need expensive gas or frequent maintenance. It didn’t bother her that it dragged to even get to highway speeds or needed an adapted to play her music, she loved it anyways. Besides, the garage was full of luxury cars is she felt the need for classy speed. If she had taken one today, maybe she would have made it to school on time. 

Rowan rolled cracked both windows halfway before cutting the engine. The gas tank was on her side, so they could still talk while he filled the tank. Shamelessly, she stared at his back, eyes tracing the taut fabric lines over his shoulders as he swiped his car and placed the pump into the opening. Casually, he rested his forearm on the window, hand dangling just inside. It was close enough, the calluses on his hands were visible. How would his thumb feel tracing her bottom lip? How would they feel tracing the most intimate parts of her?

Subtly, Aelin shook her head, astounded at her own audacity. Rowan was her best friend, not a piece of meat, and certainly not someone to muse salacious things about. Gods, she should have never left her bed.

“Bed?” Rowan asked.

Fuck. She’d said that last part out loud. “Oh nothing, I just was talking to myself.” 

“About your bed?” he prompted, green eyes sparkling in amusement.

“I happen to love my bed, it’s very comfortable.” 

“Yes, I know. I’ve been in it before.” He winked before turning away to look at the pump, arm still resting on the window. Speechless. She was speechless as she stared at his back once more, noting a small shake to his shoulders. The bastard was laughing.  If the gods possessed any modicum of pity for her, one would smite her here and now. 

She was two seconds from rolling his arm up in the window when an unfamiliar voice sounded from outside the window. 

“That’s a beautiful car.” 

“Thanks, I’m pretty fond of her myself,” he admitted, giving is full attention to whoever was outside the car. Aelin tried to look in the passenger mirror, but his frame was obscuring most of her view. Craning her neck, she looked back to see a dark-haired woman standing by her car at the pump behind theirs. 

“Zero to sixty in 2.8 seconds, right?” The woman flicked her dark hair behind her, showing off her lowcut shirt as she awaited his response. Was she seriously trying to show case her boobs while talking cars? Breaking her gaze from the woman, she looked over to see Rowan still giving her his full attention. 

“You know your cars, that’s unusual in a woman,” he supplied playfully.

“What am I, chopped liver?” she huffed angrily. He didn’t hear her and continued talking back and forth with the mystery woman. Aelin’s neck was becoming stiff from looking over her shoulder, never one to forsake nosiness but if they kept this up, she’d have to. 

Rolling her eyes, she decided to try a new tactic: staring holes into the side of his face until he remembered her presence. It was a wash. He was too busy flirting back and forth to even acknowledge the click of the pump shutting off. The woman’s overzealous laugh did her in, what he’d said wasn’t even that funny, and out of exasperation, she grabbed his fingers.

Rowan glanced down, his green eyes taking her in as he flashed a smirk full of white teeth before flicking his gaze back to where it had been. Once more, she squeezed his pointer and middle finger, trying to convey her frustration. She was ready to go. He could flirt on his own time. And she had been promised ice cream. Turning back around, she noticed the woman had moved much closer and had her phone out. 

“I’d love to talk cars some more, but I have to get going. My friend is going to wonder why it took me so long to get back. Could I get your number?” Unconsciously, Aelin went from grabbing two of his fingers, to grabbing his whole hand, squeezing tight enough to cut off blood flow. Briefly, he looked down at her, adjusting his arm to be further in the car, which wasn’t what she had been trying to accomplish at all—she wanted to stop having a front row seat them blatantly flirting with one another. 

With zero progress being made, she loosened her death grip on his hand, only to be shocked when he took the moment to thread his fingers through hers, preventing retreat. Tugging against him only caused him to hold tighter. “Full disclosure, if I give you my number, it’ll have to be from a friend only standpoint. My girl here might actually have something to say if I wasn’t upfront about that.” 

Her stomach felt as though it was in her throat, like she’d just ridden one of the amusement park rides that drops you 100 feet in seconds, and she was too aware of the rubatosis of pure shock. Had Rowan Whitethorn, secret crush of her high school and college years, star of her late-night fantasies, just referred to her as “his girl” whilst simultaneously turning down a beautiful woman? Too caught up in her own crashing thoughts, she’d completely missed the reply and only realized that when Rowan was pulling his hand away and then getting into the driver’s seat. 

The engine purred softly to life, and he shifted into gear, pulling back out onto the road. Robotically, her gaze counted the yellow stripes marking the lanes of the highway. And when they became too blurred to count, she started accounting for the mile marker signs instead. Anything was better than acknowledging whatever had just happened. Or didn’t happen. 

Rowan finally breached the stifling silence. “Are we going to talk about that?”

“Talk about what?” Aelin asked, feigning ignorance. 

He rolled his eyes and shifted gears, increasing the car’s speed as headed into a curve. “You know what.” 

“Nope,” she said, popping the ‘p’ for emphasis. Despite it being dark in the car and the only illumination of features being provided by the instrument panel, she could see every little mannerism he did. His jaw clenched twice before he pushed for a different answer. 

Vexed, she caved. “You mean that woman that clearly wanted in your pants? That’s the only thing to talk about and we don’t have to, I had a front row seat to it. A onetime admission was more than enough.”  

Unwelcomed fingers jabbed into the side of her rib, his pitiful attempt at gaining her attention further. Aelin wasn’t having it and angrily shoved his hand away, which was exactly what he’d intended. His large hand wrapped around hers and he moved it to rest atop the gear shift, using their combined grip to shift the car into another gear. Normally, a move like that would have had her core heating and a string of dirty thoughts to accompany it, but she wanted nothing to do with him, or his hand. 

She hastily tried to take back her hand, yet only worsened the situation. He let out an annoyed huff and placed her palm against his thigh, his flattened over the top. The warmth of his body was seeping into her skin and her heart was racing with awareness. In all their years of friendship, no hug, comment, touch, had ever come anywhere near this line. “Aelin,” he hounded expectantly.

“Rowan, there’s literally nothing to talk about. Gods, just give me back my hand and take me home. It’s late and I need to get my paper done.”  

“Whatever you say, Aelin.” He released her hand as though it had burned him, eyes straight on the road, and his face perfectly calm, giving nothing away. She couldn’t help but continue to peak over at him, trying to decide what was going on in head. The car’s atmosphere was suffocating and getting out of this car couldn’t come soon enough.

Five minutes later, Rowan turned down her road, and pulled his car into the same spot where he’d picked her up earlier. It seemed so long ago now, even though it had been mere hours. When he didn’t put the car in park, her brow furrowed in confusion, and she looked over after him. 

“We need to talk about what happened.” His tone was jarring, revealing how affected he undeniably was. 

“What?” she demanded, stubborn as ever. 

“What?” he parroted, gesturing quotation marks with his hands. “You know what I’m referring to. You’re much too smart to play dumb. You know it. I know it. So don’t insult yourself by doing it,” he spit icily. The lines of his jaw seemed cut from marble, clenched and unmoving, the set of his brow equally hard. 

Rowan would not win this battle. Aelin didn’t owe him anything, especially after he fragrantly flirted in front of her face and then used her as an excuse to get out of the situation. Typical man.  Dogged as ever, she angled her body towards the door and stared out into the night. The car slipped into park and the engine cut off. For someone so tall, Rowan had a certain quick grace about it and occasionally it took him using it, to remind her so. Now was one of those times. He was throwing open the passenger side door and undoing her seat belt before she could prevent him from doing so. 

She didn’t move, choosing to glare, crossing her arms across her body. He stepped back and made a grand gesture for her to get out of the car. Giving him a saccharine smile of thanks, she shoved off the seat, intent on making a beeline for the front door. His right arm blocked her, and he pushed her back to rest against the now closed car door. Both were breathing hard, eyes narrowed in disdain.  

If he thought he was going to use his body to bully her like he used to, he had another thing coming. Smirking, she lifted up a leg, aiming for the apex of his thighs. His eyes widened and he stepped back, staring in disbelief, hands covering her intended target. It was a low blow but effective. Aelin booked it for the front door—a few seconds head start was all she needed to beat him.  

Shoving open the front door, she smiled to herself in success. It was far easier to ignore phone calls and door knocks than an actual living, breathing person’s presence and he couldn’t get in a locked house. “That’s not very nice,” he scolded as his boot came to be between the frame and the door, preventing it from being shut. 

“Godsdamnit Ro, go away. I’m so beyond over this, I rather be fed to a pack of wolves than do whatever this is.” 

He pushed his muscled frame through the door, shutting it behind him. She took a step back, he followed. Somewhere in their dance of parry and counter moves, Aelin had stopped paying attention to her surroundings until her back was flush with the door, with nowhere to go. Victoriously, he grinned a predator’s smile, “We could have been done with this in the car, but you keep pretending we have nothing to talk about.” 

“Gods, stop, just stop. Quit being such a domineering ass. It was absolutely nothing. I know she was annoying you by the end, so I was just trying to get you out of the situation.” Aelin clenched and unclenched her first, trying to bury the burning temptation to throw them into his chest.  

“That’s a lie and we don’t lie to one another. You’re going to tell me the truth,” he said lowly, the anger rumbling in his chest. He placed his hands flush against the wall, almost brushing her upper arm as he did so, caging her in. 

“What truth are you expecting me to tell?” she inquired hostilely, the gold rings in her eyes flaring at his high-handed behavior.

“Admit it, you were jealous.” His face was serious, his green eyes piercing her with accusation. 

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Wrong answer, Aelin.” Rowan adjusted his right arm, moving his hand to rest against the wall alongside her face. “You didn’t want me to give her my number, did you? It made you jealous, didn’t it?” 

“You can do whatever you want, you’re a grown man. I was ready to leave, that’s it.” He was so close, his body heat was radiating, heating her already flushed skin. Could he see it, the pink tinge staining her cheeks and the column of her neck? Could he hear how loud her heart was pounding? She felt like a moth caught in a web, waiting to become its captors next meal. 

Shaking his head very deliberately back and forth, his adamant disapproval skated across her nerves, “Again, wrong answer, Aelin.” She didn’t think it was possible, but Rowan moved closer, his knee forcing her legs apart, his thigh coming to rest against the apex of hers. His head dropped, leaving mere inches between their faces, warm breath fanning her face, “I’m going to ask you one more time, were you jealous?”

“I’m not doing this. I don’t know why you’re being so insistent about an answer!” Giving into her earlier desires, she pushed her palms against his chest, attempting to put some distance between them. It proved futile. Under splayed palms, she could feel the rippling muscles of his chest as he breathed in and out. All logical thought was rapidly dissipating. “If the roles were reversed, you wouldn’t have cared. Stop making it a big deal.”

“No, I wouldn’t have been.” His eyes darkened with an emotion she couldn’t quite decipher as he stared intently down at her, waiting for her to process the words. 

“Huh?” Aelin asked dumfounded, her heart hammering faster than it ever had. There was no way she had heard him accurately. 

It was late, she was tired. It had been a stressful day. Rowan Whitethorn had not just admitted to being jealous while having her pinned up against the door with his body. 

“Every guy that touches you. Talks to you. Even so much as looks at you, makes me rage. So no, Aelin, I would not have been ‘okay”. I would be jealous, and I would have been able to tell you that if you’d asked it of me,” he growled the last part, his jaw clenching so hard it looked like it would snap under the pressure. 

“I don’t understand. You can’t possibly mean that,” she weakly protested. 

“Please,” he said, his left hand coming up to mirror his right, forcing her to look only at him. “Don’t act like you don’t know. So. Were. You. Jealous?”

Aelin wasn’t sure if it was the fact their noses were basically touching now or that she couldn’t look anywhere else, that there was no reprieve from his heavy gaze. Whatever it was, she could no longer lie to his face. The confession fell from her lips. “Yes.” 

Rowan’s massive frame retreated a couple steps, evidently taken aback by her candidness. Her body wept at the sudden loss of warmth. Her blue eyes roved over his unmoving form, rejection starting to take root in her belly, and laying waste to the anger and attraction that had previously occupied it. What had he gained by pushing her this far? Was he mad about earlier? Had he actually wanted that girl’s number? She had been pretty, actually she had been gorgeous—and that was part of why she’d interrupted him in the first place. Grabbing his hand had seemed like the most logical distraction. He had been there, with her, for her, making her bad day better, and having to share him with a pretty stranger had not been on her bingo card. 

He said nothing. Did nothing. And the bitter realization of being the punchline for whatever cruel joke this was threatened to suffocate her. It felt like a chore to breathe in and out, to even stay and hold her ground while feeling like she was being shredded. 

Within one blink, the distance between them vanished. His tattooed hand splayed out of the front of her neck, tipping her head up to rest against the door. “Right answer,” he praised against her lips before capturing them in a searing kiss.  

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

Tag list:

@lunadorned @theresyourfireandblood @backtobl4ck @leiawritesstories @morganofthewildfire @rowaelinismyotp @jorjy-jo @theresyourfireandblood @numbers-colors-fashion @swankii-art-teacher @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart  @stardelia @astra-ad-mare

**** hopefully you guys don't mind being tagged outside of "Songs About You". If you do however, just shoot me a message and I won't general tag you :)

#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin au #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass #rowan x aelin #aedion ashryver #Best friend #one shot #jealousy #throne of glass fic #fanfiction

[mariaofdoranelle]

Faking Yulemas — Part 4: Dear Santa… I Can Explain

For 12 Days of Rowaelin

Prompt: Yulemas Lights

Fic masterlist

I know it’s very rude of me to only post this now, I promise I was not planning to wait that long. I hope you have fun with this fic’s closure!

Warnings: NSFW, language, drinking, mentions of inappropriate intimate tattoos

Word count: 5,5k (oops?)

“Tell me about your parents.”

Rowan hummed, thoughtful. “Dad’s a pretty laid-back guy, but mom keeps him in line. She’s the strict one, I take after her.” A tilt of his head. “I once read online that’s reason why I overthink, but I don’t think they traumatized me that much. Just the normal amount.” He looked at her dead in the eye. “I definitely don’t have daddy issues.”

Chuckling, Aelin elbowed his side. “You’re not helping.”

He deftly gripped her attacking elbow and stroked it with his thumb, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite decipher. “You don’t need to think too hard on it, they’ll be mushy just by knowing you drove all the way here to buy them something.”

Aelin sighed and nodded. She didn’t prepare that much back in Doranelle to this, but now that she’d met the Whitethorns, she wanted to get them a Yulemas present. The hardest part was buying something nice on Yulemas Eve Eve that would fit her student budget, but she’d manage.

Their excuse to come downtown Mistward was so Aelin could get to know the city, and it wasn’t that much of a lie. With streets filled with stores decorated for the holidays, it was a sight. There were people going in all directions, probably late with the gift shopping too. There was also a Santa on a white, wheeled vehicle pulled by a horse that was going around the shopping area. She assumed it was supposed to be Santa Claus in a one horse open sleigh, but she decided to not pick on this poor attempt at Santa. Let them live their inaccurate holiday joy.

“Are you sure you’re not cold?” Rowan gave her a pointed look. “I can get that extra jacket on the car.”

Aelin looked down at her red sundress that had an open back and spaghetti straps, frowning. She was fine. Not one arm hair out of place. In the meanwhile, he was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and pants, and she also didn’t miss how his Adam’s apple bobbed before his eyes snapped back to hers.

Interesting.

“Remind me to never take you to Terrasen in the winter,” she snickered. God, Rowan wouldn’t survive a day in knee-deep snow.

His eyes lit up. “That means you’ll take me there in the summer, then?”

“I need enough money to get back there myself first.” Aelin walked ahead of him a little, towards a storefront, so he wouldn’t see her flush. That really sounded like an invitation, didn’t it? And she hoped what she’d just said didn’t sound too much like a dismissal. Truth was, she was confused.

They were fake dating, that was a fact. However, her feelings about Rowan changed a lot since her first day in Mistward. They settled the deal before those piano lessons together. And getting acquainted with his family. Watching him drag Enda’s kids on a sled with the mower did its trick too. And honestly? Aelin wasn’t above the emotional consequences of cuddling at night.

She took a deep breath and stopped pretending that storefroent was interesting, focusing back on Rowan.

He was gazing at her already, a soft look on his eyes.

She was so screwed.

˜˜

After finding a nice gift for his parents, Rowan insisted on having dinner at this fancy pasta place.

The best part of it? The wine.

Aelin was currently explaining to Rowan what only three people in the world knew: the complete chain of events that led her to start a dating hiatus.

“It’s hard to find so many suitable one-night stands, but I had just broken up with Chaol, so I wanted something casually serious. So this guy, Sam… well, he made a family on The Sims with me.”

Rowan frowned. “That’s creepy.”

She sighed. “I know, but I thought it was cute at the time. Anyway. Since we were already married on his game, you’d think he wanted something serious, right?”

He tilted his head. “Right…”

“Wrong!” Aelin yelled, and then looked around, giggling and a bit embarrassed. This wasn’t the kind of restaurant it was okay to be screaming at, but she was blaming the wine. “When I mentioned that we were in a situationship, he said the label was too much.” Sweeping her arms, she forgot once more about keeping a low profile.

Rowan was quietly chuckling at her antics when the food came.

Could it even be called food?

The plate itself reminded her of a Victorian hat with a particularly wide brim. Only for the ladies who liked to be a little extra. She could even imagine some lady called Edith or Cecily pulling this off effortlessly. The border of the plate went for what felt like miles, and after a lot of what seemed like a waste of space in a dishwasher, there was a small depression. The bottom and center of the plate had a small portion of spaghetti cocooned, as wide as her palm if she was lucky.

Looking at Rowan, he seemed to be at loss too. Aelin didn’t know much about his dining habits, but she knew damn well that a portion that size wasn’t enough to grow the kind of muscles he had. Finally looking at her in the eye, he seemed to apologize with his own when she shook her head and smiled. She wasn’t going to complain about being brought to a nice date in a fancy restaurant downtown.

Wait.

Was this a date?

“So Sam was the final nail in the coffin?” Rowan prompted, wanting to know which date was bad enough to make her want to go celibate for a year.

“No, that would be Archer.” He sat back and sipped his wine, waiting. Aelin took a deep breath, steeling herself. “He would always ask me when I’d give him a chance, but I never took him seriously. He was just that kind of guy no one takes seriously, but the bar was so low that I did.”

“It’s really hard to believe that you, of all people, were struggling so much to date.”

Aelin just groaned in response.

“Anyway,” she continued, “The date was fun, and I think he even put in some effort… for his standards. The problem was his tattoo.”

Aelin didn’t miss the way Rowan quickly glanced at his tattooed arm while she said it.

“He had an intimate tattoo,” she explained, followed by a dramatic pause. “Of Pinocchio.”

Rowan blinked, then his eyes slowly widened with the realization of what she was implying, and he seemed to be so surprised they spoke at the same time:

“Please don’t tell me the nose was—”

“And Pinocchio’s nose was—”

Aelin somberly nodded.

Rowan took a sip of his wine. “But did you…” He cleared his throat. “Did you?”

She gaped. “I would never sit on Pinocchio’s nose.”

He nodded, looked at his food and took a swig of his wine before resuming his dinner. Aelin wondered if she ruined it by mentioning another man’s dick tat, but he looked up at her with a resolved look on his face.

“You do realize that the amount of guys with inappropriate tattoos or virtual families with you isn’t that big, right?”

Aelin didn’t like his tone. She leaned away from Rowan on her chair and asked a little too defensive, “Your point is?”

Truth was, Aelin didn’t get that much annoyed when people would question her dating hiatus. She’d usually just wait until their speech was over and let it go. But for some reason, all those speeches she shrugged off for months were coming back to haunt her during this vacation. Did she give up too soon? Was she wasting her youth on this? Having her celibacy questioned by Rowan struck a nerve, Aelin just had to find out why.

“Sometimes people are so focused on what’s happening directly to them, they forget to look around for better options.”

Her mouth opened and closed before she found the words “I did look around! The view was terrible.”

Scratching the back of his neck, Rowan tried to rephrase it. “I was actually telling you to consider possibilities you haven’t thought of before.”

“You’re telling me to try girls?” Her mouth fell open. It wasn’t a bad idea, she just wasn’t expecting that suggestion.

Looking tired from trying to explain himself, Rowan sighed. “When’s your hiatus ending?”

“On March 3rd.”

He sipped his wine. “Noted.”

Aelin blinked. “What?”

She would not think too much on this. She would not think about this while holding him tonight.

He leaned back on his seat and shrugged. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

˜˜

Rowan was motionless, staring at the car like he was reading its soul. Or like someone had just dropped the keys in the river and he stood there, watching it fall into the bottom. Considering it was Rowan, any other thing would make it easier to drive than the situation they were currently in.

Drunk.

Actually, they weren’t drunk. Tipsy sounds more fitting. Maybe somewhere between these two?

Aelin checked her watch. There was still time to catch a train. Maeve’s house had a really difficult access, though, so she’d need someone to pick them up at the station.

“I’m calling Sellene,” Aelin broke the silence.

That was enough to make Rowan fall out of his trance. “Absolutely not!” He ran a hand through his head. “She’ll mock us to death.”

Aelin’s smile was so big she could swear the corners of Rowan’s mouth tilted up. “She’ll mock you to death! Sel loves me.”

Sellene answered the phone before Rowan could make an argument out of this.

“What the fuck are you two still doing downtown?” Her friend’s voice boomed before anyone could even say hello.

“Honey, langua— oh, hi, Aelin!” Uncle Ellys showed up smiling behind Sellene.

Aelin quickly explained their drunken situation and asked her to pick them up at the train station closest to the family’s house, and Rowan stayed curiously silent the whole time. It probably had something to do with the mischievous glint that grew in Sellene’s eyes every sentence, which reached its peak when Uncle Ellys furrowed his eyebrows and suggested, “Why don’t you two stay at a hotel and drive back in the morning? That way no one needs to get the car back on Yulemas Eve.”

Sel’s smile was so big she looked like a maniac. “That’s a great idea, dad!”

The little bitch.

She knew damn well Aelin wasn’t actually dating Rowan.

This was going to be so awkward.

Rowan cleared his throat. “I’m not sure this is a good—“

“I think it’s perfect, Ro.”

He continued, glaring this time. “I didn’t bring anything to spend the night. I have no clothes, no toiletries—“

“Good to know we’ve got it settled then!” Unaffected, Sellene’s grin was so smug it was annoying. “If it isn’t my favorite couple.”

Ellys frowned. “I thought it was Marceline and Princess Bubblegum, Dear.”

“I guess you’re right.” She let out a dramatic sigh. “Anyway, bye!” Sellene sing-sang.

”Sellene, don’t—“ Rowan shouted, but it was too late.

She had already hung up on them.

Rowan sighed, and Aelin pocketed her phone, leaning her back in the car to think. They were already sharing a bed anyway, staying at a hotel for the night wouldn’t be that bad. It’d be almost the same, right?

Rowan didn’t think so, apparently.

“I’m gonna try my parents,” he finally said.

“Okay.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“But don’t you think it’s weird?” Aelin said before he hit the call button.

His thumb hovered above the screen for a moment, then he carefully asked, “What would be weird?”

“Refusing to spend the night away. We’re supposed to be dating, remember?”

He locked his phone and leaned on the car as well, arms crossed. “I’d never spend the night with my girlfriend without clean clothes and a toothbrush.”

“The only one you’d need out of those two is very easy to buy,” she snickered. “Besides, you can’t ask your mom to rescue you. You should be flattered for the opportunity to spend the night with me.”

“I am.”

The yellow streetlights didn’t help, but Aelin could see Rowan’s cheeks turning a shade pinker. Cute, she marveled.

“Besides,” he continued, “We usually need all hands on deck during Yulemas Eve. I’ll waste too much time coming back here tomorrow to get the car.”

She tilted her head. “It’ll be a nuisance.”

“A big one.”

Aelin grinned. “And we can’t let that happen.”

He shook his head, lips tugging up. “Absolutely not.”

“So which hotel are we picking?”

“The closest one.”

Her shoulders dropped. “Oh. Sure.”

Rowan was a practical person. Of course he’d pick the closest one. And there was no reason for her to hope for another hotel, since this decision had been purely practical.

Something about her expression gave her away. He bumped her shoulder. “I’m open to suggestions, though.”

“I don’t have suggestions, I’ve never been here.” She bumped his shoulder back. “I just thought we were choosing together, that’s all.”

He raised his eyebrows, silently asking her to continue.

“For example, I like it when they have those huge breakfast buffets. With…” she shrugged, a playful grin forming on her lips. “Bread, fruit, yoghurt…”

Rowan crossed his arms, smiling. “Only bread, fruit and yoghurt?”

His teasing hadn’t been that funny, but Aelin cackled anyway. “Well, I’m not gonna complain if they also happen to have cake and chocolate croissant.”

“Okay…” he focused on his phone for a moment, the corners of his lips still crinkling with amusement, then guided them forward by placing a hand on her back. “Google Maps tells me there’s a store close by, and you can tell me what kind of hotels you like while I buy some toiletries to survive the night.”

The small shopping became a little more, and that’s how they ended up in a hotel room’s balcony, a plastic bag with the essentials waiting inside while they ate hot dogs and shared a bottle of wine, no glasses. They blamed this second dinner on the fancy restaurant with miniature portions, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

“This hot dog is so much better than the ones I make.”

Rowan held a finger up, asking for a moment while he finished this bite, and asked, “You cook?”

A smirk just for him. “I don’t. That’s why this is better.”

They both chuckled, Rowan’s eyes glinting while he looked at her in such a way that made her question if tonight’s food was upsetting her stomach. She looked away. “I had to learn for Sellene’s birthday, though.”

“That’s right.” He straightened his posture, recognition in his eyes. “You were so busy, I forgot you were in charge of the food too.”

“I was in charge of everything after Sel’s third beer.” She rolled her eyes playfully. Sellene was such a traitorous bitch. Aelin loved her to death. “That’s why I didn’t pay much attention to the guests, I think.”

Also because she was dating Chaol at the time. But dear Mala, it felt like a waste not properly meeting Rowan that day. The longer she got to know him, the strongest she felt about that party and the 11 months that followed suit.

He chugged wine for the longest time that night before he said, “I had intentions of making myself known once you were free.”

Aelin was too distracted by his mouth on that bottle, but her heart stopped when it finally clicked.

“Really?” She looked deep into his eyes, looking for an answer that went beyond his words.

He nodded. “Really.”

She took the bottle from his hand. It was her time to have some wine.

“It would’ve been nice.”

He didn’t need to answer that. And they both also knew what stopped him that day: Aelin’s boyfriend arriving mid-party.

Still, there was no controlling that bubbly, sparkly feeling inside her that only grew the more she thought about that.

Rowan was ready to hit on her when they first met. Isn’t that the most romantic thing?

For some reason, this time Aelin didn’t feel like shying away from whatever was happening. Just let herself feel, even though she was trying really hard to understand those feelings. She didn’t know how to continue this conversation, though.

“I thought I’d never face a hot dog after Sellene’s birthday party,” she added between bites. The amount of research and preparation Aelin did for that night was crazy. She never knew there’s so much to the art of hot dogs.

“They were a little traumatizing, yes.”

“That’s not what I meant!” She chided in mock offense while handing the bottle to that rude fake boyfriend of hers.

“I’m letting you blame the sausage’s bad quality if you want.”

“I don’t know…” Aelin leaned back on her chair. Her research included which ingredients to buy, it’d end up being her fault too. “I kinda became a sausage specialist for that party—“

She was interrupted by the blaring sound of Rowan gagging and heaving. He had a shocked look on his face, widened eyes aimed at her while he clutched the base of his neck. There was a little wine running down his nose and mouth, and that was probably from the choking.

Aelin dropped her things and started gently stroking his shoulders, even though she knew this wouldn’t actually help. She was somewhere between wanting to soothe him and feeling a little embarrassed after accidentaly making a sexual innuendo so bad Rowan almost choked to death. Literally. Would it be selfish to hope his choking didn’t let him notice the flush on her cheeks?

“That’s embarrassing,” he said a few moments later.

Aelin had already a tissue on her hand when she replied, “You know, you look kinda cute with a wine mustache.”

He snorted, and that little gush of air directly on her fingers weirdly sent goosebumps—

No.

This was supposed to be just about Aelin’s imagination running wild because of Rowan’s irresistibleness. There was no way she…

Aelin removed her hand and gazed at at Rowan. His straight nose and cheekbones had a natural glow from the moonlight. His eyes were gleaming while he looked back at her, and something told her it couldn’t be due to any Yulemas lights that twinkled around them. Mistward was beautiful today, but not nearly as much as that reserved man who had fire in his eyes when he looked at her.

There were so many things she felt like doing while looking at him, but at the same time she didn’t want to change anything at all. Aelin wanted to be in this exact moment forever. With him.

Wine out his nose and all.

Something dawned on her, and Aelin’s eyes widened with the realization.

“Oh my God,” she blurted, her eyes slowly searching his.

“What?” Rowan was still a little hazy.

When their gaze finally settled on each other’s, she quietly confided, “I think I like you.”

Aelin would do everything in her possession to never forget how his face slowly lit up as he processed what she’d said, his confused expression giving away space for him to show her a blinding smile.

He didn’t say anything, though.

At first he just cradled her face, tender strokes on her jaw making her head tilt up while he seemed lost somewhere between her eyes and her lips.

Why was it suddenly so hard to breathe?

She could see his tongue‘s quickly appear between his lips, wetting them as their faces slowly came together.

Way too slowly.

Impatient, Aelin cradled his face with both hands and closed the distance at once, pressing their lips together. And as soon as she initiated it, his touch seemed as urgent as hers.

Rowan’s hands roamed through her face, neck, shoulders, until they found her waist and pulled her as close as one physically could, making her fall on his lap. With her neck in his mouth’s direction, Rowan decided to take advantage of that. He pecked, licked and sucked that patch of skin until Aelin was writhing on his thigh, silently begging him for something. Even she didn’t know exactly what.

When Rowan started dragging his teeth along her pulse point with a heavenly amount of pressure, Aelin held his shoulders with both hands, adjusting herself just enough to feel his shaft below her thigh.

He groaned. “We don’t have to.”

His voice was so pained it almost sounded comical. It would be, if Aelin wasn’t as excited as he was.

She pulled his hair, making Rowan’s neck arch towards her. He stared at her with parted lips, a mist of hunger and surrender in his eyes.

“I need to.” Aelin wriggled her hips, pressing against him and making him swallow hard.

He started playing with the hem of her dress, and it took a pointed look for her to process that he was still asking for permission.

“Please.”

Rowan sneaked his hands below her dress until both of his hands were full with her ass, and tugged her towards him hard enough to leave a mark.

And that was when their control snapped.

It became a blur of sinful caresses and bruising, urgent kisses until Rowan picked her up. The six steps from the balcony to the bed were the longest of her life.

Between kisses, he began to fumble with her dress. “What’s up with girls and their difficult clothes?”

“Three ties isn’t too much.” She wasn’t even wearing a bra. Aelin laughed, but it was a bit strained.

“They’re obstacles. It’s annoying,” he said while undoing the straps on her shoulders. And frowned. Aelin bit back her laughter while she turned around, showing the last string on her back. “Too much,” he grunted while untying it.

The feel of those thin strands falling on her back left a trail of goosebumps, or maybe it was just the effect of Rowan’s hands on her, along with the anticipation of what was to come.

She mentioned to turn around, but Rowan’s hands had her pinned, laying on her stomach. He gently brushed her long hair aside and kissed her shoulders and back downwards. He brushed his teeth through Aelin’s ass, biting it softly. Her breath hitched, her hips arching his way.

However, Rowan took her panties off, turned her around and started kissing her inner thigh. When Aelin realized where he was headed, she was already whimpering. He was all teasing kisses and warming her up at first, so she wasn’t expecting it when Rowan pressed his tongue against her clit with the perfect amount of pressure, making her cry out and arch her hips. He didn’t mind her pressing herself against his face, though. Not by the way he grabbed her hips hard enough to bruise and kept her there.

The mix of Rowan’s tongue on her clit, his stubble rubbing against her slit and his hands practically squeezing her hips was going to be the death of her. Aelin was panting with shaky legs, moaning his name. Bursting from the inside out, she was seeing stars every time he applied a bit more pressure.

“Ro, I’m so close.”

He just hummed, not ready to get his mouth off her, and plunged two fingers inside her without further notice.

Aelin screamed.

She shattered completely, becoming nothing more than a mess of limbs, holding every piece of the bed sheet she could and squeezing Rowan’s head between her thighs while waves of pleasure ripped through her.

Rowan was above her in a second, kissing her gently. “You okay?”

“That’s really hard to answer right now,” she answered, panting.

He chuckled, seeming a little wrecked as well. “Wanna stop?”

“Fuck, no.”

She pulled him by the hair for another kiss and began to fumble with his pants. Impatient, Rowan rose to pull out his clothes for once and-

Fuck.

Aelin had always thought Rowan looked as gorgeous as one of those ripped guys from ancient statues, but it wasn’t true. His penis was too big for him to be one of them. What a shame. Actually, not a shame at all for Aelin.

Rowan was staring at her, naked with a condom on his hand, his mouth hanging open somewhere between amused and incredulous.

Wait, did she say that out loud?

To avoid further comment, she kneeled on the bed and wrapped her arms around Rowan, kissing him slowly until he melted into her touch. Without breaking the kiss, Aelin started working on his cock until he couldn’t take it anymore.

When they laid back on the bed, she had never seen a guy put a condom on so fast. To be fair, Aelin was pretty much the same, guiding him towards her entrance as soon as possible.

They started slow, holding on to each other while Rowan pushed into her.

“You feel so fucking good,” he rasped against her ear as he bottomed her out.

Aelin moaned, wiggling her hips in a silent plea for him to move inside her, which he quickly obliged.

She moaned and marked his back with her nails as he thrusted in with an intense pace. They were completely lost in each other. Moaning, whispering sweet nothings, kissing wherever their mouths could reach. Aelin wrapped her legs around him and her muscles tightened, making him suck in a sharp breath and lose composure.

“Are you close?”

Her affirmative answer sounded a lot like a whimper, but he got the message.

Letting out a shaky breath, that chase made him lose the rhythm they previously found, but Rowan sneaked a hand between their bodies and pressed this thumb to Aelin’s clit.

The grip she had on his shoulders tightened. “Fuck, Ro.”

Her breath shattered when she came to the peak of that crescendo, and he seemed just as intoxicated. It was like Rowan was lighting her on fire, and every explosion was a reason for her to call his name. When the feeling of his thumb on her swollen clit and his cock hitting that spot was too much, Aelin’s hips started to tremble and she came undone in his arms, Rowan’s name on her lips the whole time.

Being pushed over the edge as well, Rowan’s hips stuttered and his whole body tensed, right before he seemed to dissolve above her.

He crashed on her side and gave gentle pecks on her face after disposing the condom, both of them still recomposing themselves.

Staring at the ceiling, Aelin was trying to figure if this was because she hadn’t had sex for almost a year, or if Rowan was just that good. She needed to try again to be certain.

He turned to her and cradled Aelin in his arms, giving her a peck in the forehead. Rowan studied her face, looking for something until she looked up at him, her uncertain face slowly giving space to a shy grin.

Aelin adjusted herself on his arms and let him lazily caress her body.

She always suspected sex with Rowan would be good, but dear Mala. It was almost too much, his cock and tongue and fingers wearing her out until she combusted so much she felt she could die in that bed. Well, if Aelin really thought of it, those orgasms were well deserved. She needed them, since she didn’t have her sleeping pills right now. Should she thank Santa? It was probably Yulemas Eve by now.

Aelin let out a happy sigh and Rowan affectionately squeezed her, resting his face on the crown of her head.

She mentally sent Santa a thumbs up, not caring that he doesn’t actually exist or that Rowan didn’t like him as a kid.

~~

There were hands brushing her hair back and stroking her arms.

What a nuisance.

Aelin rolled over to the other side of the bed, trying to fall back into that deep slumber she was in.

The mattress dipped beside her, and the covers Aelin had just placed covering her face were gently pushed aside.

It was going to be one of those days, then.

“I sneaked out some mini chocolate croissant for you.”

Interesting.

“I’m awake,” she mumbled.

Chuckling, Rowan continued to run his fingers through her hair when she sat on the bed, eyes still closed. Aelin leaned into his touch. For Mala’s sake, did that man know how to touch her everywhere?

His fingers brushed against her lower lip. “Want some?”

When Aelin closed her mouth with the mini croissant Rowan put there, it was a delicious explosion of butter, chocolate and that delicious crackling crust flooding her senses. Her shoulders dropped and she moaned, overwhelmed by pastry heaven.

Rowan’s hand on her hair stilled, so Aelin finally had reason enough to open her eyes. How dare he stop? Aelin rubbed her eyes and cracked them open to complain, only to see Rowan staring at her with darkened eyes and parted lips.

Well, that was one look to wake her up with. Smirking, she let her covers drop just a little. Just to tease him, since he knew damn well she had nothing underneath.

Before she could think, Rowan was face to face with her on the bed. “You know, we have a few hours between breakfast and check-out time.” He dropped kisses on her jaw and neck, a sweet invite to continue last night’s activity.

Aelin started looking for her clothes on the floor, but she found them folded on the chair. So organized. Her boyfri-

Oh, fuck.

They needed to talk, didn’t they?

Aelin grabbed her things and locked herself in the bathroom. Her mind was going a mile a minute.

During her shower, she wondered about the broken promise of her year-long celibacy. Well, being tore apart by Rowan was much cooler than that. But what was supposed to happen now?

Aelin stared at herself in the mirror while she brushed her teeth. Was it a one-time thing? She’d stay with his family for at least one more week, would she manage to stay away from him? Would she want to stay away from him? No probably not.

God, her hair was a mess. And she didn’t have enough supplies to make her effortful effortless makeup look. Aelin sighed. Maybe she’d just start the conversation and see what Rowan’s expectations were. He didn’t seem like the guy who would run away from something remotely serious and dread becoming more, but still. Also, he knew damn well she’d had enough of this type of guy for a lifetime already. It’s not like Aelin was looking for a husband, for Mala’s sake, some reliable company or even something casually serious would be just fine.

Out of the bathroom, Rowan was on the bed with his phone, while her own was on a charger he borrowed from reception. He looked up at her, and Aelin’s heart melted with the fond look in his eyes.

“I want to talk about last night.”

Rowan put his phone down. “What about it?”

“Well…” she began tracing circles on the mattress with her finger, trying to think of a good way to start. “It changes things, don’t you think?”

“I don’t see why we should change anything.”

Aelin held on a sigh. Of course. Flashbacks from every reason why she started a dating hiatus popped in her mind, except this one was worse because she already has feelings—

“I mean,” he continued, “We already agreed on dating, right?”

Her heart stopped. What?

“No, we agreed on fake dating,” she carefully explained. “Now we’re redefining things, but it seems like we’re fake dating with benefits.”

“What’s the difference between dating and fake dating with benefits?”

God, she wished she had the simple mind of a man. After explaining everything in detail, Rowan seemed just as lost.

“Sounds the same to me. I’ll just keep calling you my girlfriend.” He scratched the back of his neck. “If that’s okay with you?”

It was perfect, actually. Aelin’s smile was so wide it was an answer on itself. “We’re dating, then?”

“We were always dating.”

“Absolutely not!”

“I introduced you to my parents and told them you’re my girlfriend. That’s dating to me.”

Aelin shook her head. Because they were fake dating, but Rowan didn’t have basic trope knowledge. “But we weren’t getting physical!”

Rowan crossed his arms, a smug grin on his face. “Yet.”

She mirrored his posture, eyebrows raised. “Is that so?”

“I had big plans of seducing you after your dating hiatus.”

Aelin’s jaw dropped, but it quickly became a huge grin. She definitely wasn’t expecting that. “And what did these plans entail?”

He turned her around and guided her towards the door with both hands gripping her waist. “I’ll show you after breakfast,” he whispered on her ear by the time her hand reached the doorknob.

Well, that was some surprising plot twist in her celibate year.

Aelin was still quite sure love is an unreliable bitch.

However, things were looking really good for her this time.

A/N: If you got to this point, thank you for reading and not giving up on my writing after I kinda disappeared for a while! Specially for reading a holiday fic mid-March lol. So uncool of me. I’m a little embarrassed about that, if you can’t tell. Ha. Let’s hope next time I finish at least before I take the decorations down, huh?

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