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snelbz · 2 years ago
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I just binged Till Death and oh my goodness it’s so amazing- is there a tag list and if so can I be on it?
Thank you so much! I’m glad you’re enjoying it! Unfortunately, since it’s a collab between @theladyofdeath and I (as most of our fics are), there is no tag list. As of right now, it’s updated on Friday mornings!
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theladyofdeath · 2 years ago
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Do you know when chapter 11 will be out?đŸ„ș askin for a friend

Soon!
I hope you're enjoying the read!
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theladyofdeath · 2 years ago
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New chapter! đŸ”„
‘Til Death Do Us Part {Chapter Sixteen}
Elorcan. Rockstar Modern AU.
@snelbzx @theladyofdeath collab
‘Til Death Do Us Part Masterlist
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This chapter is 18+.
Lorcan —
It’s been about a week since the party from hell and since I caught Elide watching me in the shower. I was worried things would get weird between us, either from the aforementioned party or from the fact that I may have caught her watching me, but she caught me jacking off.
Which is ridiculous, because before I got married, I hadn’t regularly masturbated since high school. It had never been a problem that needed to be taken care of, but now it’s a daily thing. Sometimes more, considering how much dry humping Elide I do on the couch. Those days and the days following are usually twice. I’m surprised my fucking hand isn’t raw.
I haven’t actively tried to get her to have sex with me in a while. Sure, we make out pretty often, but I figure I’m liable to get in her good graces by stopping before she asks me to, rather than pushing it every time.
Something that got brought up the night of the party hasn’t sat well with me since we talked about it. My wife and I never got to have a first date. There’s a lot of firsts we didn’t get. Some we never will, some we’ll still share at some point. But a first date is something I want us to remedy as soon as possible.
Like tonight for instance.
I called Aelin the night before and asked for her help, which she was more than happy to give. She had come by an hour before and picked Elide up for a spa day, so I now have about four hours or so to prep a night that she won’t forget.
I’m in a little boutique downtown that looks like a place I shouldn’t be allowed into. The workers don’t seem to mind. They’re actually being helpful, although I don’t know if it’s because I’m rich or because I’m famous. Maybe it’s both. Either way, I don’t give a damn because it’s all for Elide. 
So far, the pretty, young saleswoman has helped me choose a necklace and earrings set along with a pair of shoes that I know are Elide’s size, thanks to Aelin. It’s all silver, and I’m not sure what dress I should choose.
I can honestly say I’ve never gone dress shopping before and I want Elide to like it.
It’s my first gift to her, tonight. I want it to be perfect.
Gods, I sound like a fucking hallmark movie, but I can’t stop.
I try to remain shameless as I sort through a rack of dresses but I must seem frustrated because the saleswoman comes up to me with a smile.
“What is your wife like?” She asks. “Maybe I can help.”
“Short,” I say, thinking of how perfect she is. “Black hair, with a body you wouldn’t believe. The biggest ti—” I stop myself, clearing my throat. Elide would be proud. “She’s
gifted in the cleavage area.”
The young saleswoman chuckles. “I see. And does she usually dress pretty conservatively or does she like to show off those gifts?”
I think about it for a second. “Somewhere in the middle, I guess.”
She nods, politely. “Why don’t you take a seat and I’ll bring out a few options?”
I nod and take a seat in a white chair that I’m scared I’ll get dirty, even though I’m perfectly clean. 
I wait about five minutes and check my phone. All I have is a picture of Elide in her fluffy spa robe with a text that reads This is the softest thing I’ve ever had on my body. I’m never taking it off.
I chuckle and text back, shit you’re cute before stuffing my phone back into my pocket and looking up to find the saleswoman reappearing with two different dresses.
One is black. It’s form fitting. It’s nice. But my eyes go to the red one and I don’t even have to think about it before I’m at the counter and they’re ringing everything up. Fourteen hundred dollars later and I’m out the door.
I don’t remember the last time I got a haircut, but since she’s going to be looking her best, so should I. Rowan’s hair was longer than mine about a year ago, but he chopped it off for some charity thing Aelin talked him into. They ended up raising over two hundred thousand dollars for kids in foster care, so I guess it was worth it, but I’m not ready to cut my hair off, good cause or no. I stop in to see his barber for a trim and then after a couple more errands, I’m on the way home.
When I get home, I put the wine I got for Elide in the fridge and the flowers in a vase. She’ll be home in less than an hour, so I take a shower, making sure to take my time and make everything
presentable.
Just because I’m not expecting to get any tonight doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be prepared.
My shower takes longer than I expected, especially since I tried to make sure my hair didn’t look like shit, and I’m standing in the bathroom with nothing but a pair of black slacks on when I hear the front door open.
Not exactly how I planned to greet her, but it works.
“Lor?”
Her voice carries up the stairs and I can’t help but smile at the shortened version of my name she’s taken to using. People have called me that my entire life, Rowan more than anyone, but from her it almost seems more intimate. I like it. It means she’s getting more comfortable with me, just like I am with her.
“Bedroom,” I call, slipping one arm into a shirt sleeve. I pull it on, but don’t have it buttoned by the time I hear Elide enter our room. There’s a gasp and I can’t help the self satisfied smirk as I know she’s seen her gifts I laid out on the bed. I leave the bathroom, fully intending to make some joke about women taking too long at the spa, but then I see her.
She looks absolutely gorgeous. Seductive. Sinful. I don’t have the words to describe how amazing she looks, and I write songs for a living. I won’t pretend to know a single thing about makeup, but her eyes are dark and sexy, with just a hint of sparkle. Her lips are the color of red wine and I want to get drunk off her kiss. I was right, she’d been looking at her gifts, but when she noticed my attention, she turned to me and I swear that when she blushes and looks down, her eyelashes are so long that they actually brush her cheeks.
I murmur, “Holy shit,” and she tucks a strand of her curled, dark hair behind her ear. Approaching her, I cup her cheeks. “You are so fucking beautiful.”
Her cheeks go even more red. So does her chest which, of course, is right where my eyes go.
She catches me, raising a dark eyebrow. I have no defense, so I smile and lean down, pausing just before my lips are in hers. “Am I allowed to kiss you or will it mess up your lipstick?”
“It’s supposed to be kissproof,” she breathes as one of her hands wraps around my wrist, “if you’d like to test it out.”
Hell yeah, I do.
I kiss her softly, but it’s not a quick kiss. I kiss Elide differently than I’ve ever kissed anyone before. I take my time and I make it mean something. When I pull back, her lipstick is perfect, just like the rest of her.
“So,” she says, seeming to catch her breath, “are you going to tell me what all of this is about?”
She gestures to herself then the bed, a sweet smile on her painted lips.
“I thought it was about time I take you out on our first date,” I say, bringing the back of her hand to my mouth. “Considering you deserve the best, I wanted you to feel a little pampered before I take you out for a night on the town.” I nod towards the bed. “Found you a few things I thought you might like this morning.” 
She turns to the bed and looks a little closer at the outfit I had chosen for her. When she doesn’t say anything, I get worried.
“Don’t feel pressured,” I say, hurriedly. “If you want to wear something else, that’s okay, too.” Another second passes and I suddenly feel stupid. “If you don’t like it, it’s really fine—”
“I love it,” she breathes, and when she turns to me her eyes are shining, blurred. I frown and reach out to her. “But you didn’t have to do this. This stuff is so beautiful, but it looks so expensive.”
I lace our fingers together. “It wasn’t that bad. And I wanted to.”
She laughs quietly as she shakes her head. “The dress alone probably costs more than I paid for rent for a month—”
“Hey,” I murmur, and pull her closer to me. She comes willingly. “Don’t worry about the money. It’s a gift.”
I see that stubborn glint in her eye. “But it’s too much—”
“I’m not backing down on this,” I interrupt. “It can sit in your damn closet for all I care, I’m not taking it back. But, selfishly, I do wanna see you in that dress.”
Her eyes soften as she glances back at the outfit before turning back to me. A hand wanders up to my cheek then she’s up on her toes, her mouth finding mine. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I say, and kiss her again.
“But no more expensive gifts,” she says, eyes narrowed. She’s smiling. I love it.
“Deal,” I laugh, neglecting to tell her that the price of our dinner is going to blow her mind.
Or that the rest of the night is just a drop in the bucket that is my bank account. She’s never actually asked how much my net worth is and I know she could just Google it if she wanted, but I like that she really doesn’t seem to give a shit that I have money.
A pretty large percentage of groupies were also gold-diggers, so it became pretty easy to pick them out, and Elide couldn’t be farther from the type.
We finish getting ready, which only takes about five minutes since all Elide needs to do is change clothes and I finish getting dressed.
I make it downstairs before her, and as I get the full effect of her in that dress, I’m frozen in place. It’s as perfect as I thought it would be, hugging her curves in all the right places, without showing too much off.
How the hell did I get so lucky?
How did I ever think I didn’t want her?
I was an idiot when I said she wasn’t my type. My type is whatever she is and I don’t ever want anything else.
She clears her throat as she reaches the bottom of the stairs, a clutch in her hands. “What do you think?”
I think I want to rip that dress off of you and bend you over the couch.
I don’t think she’d hate that response, not with how she’s been looking at me lately, but I put a lot of thought into this night, and ending it here would be worth it, but disappointing. So instead, I take her hand and brush my lips along her fingers. “You look amazing.”
That adorable blush blooms in her cheeks again and I tug her into the kitchen.
“I would’ve given you these when I picked you up, but we live together,” I say, gesturing to the vibrant bouquet of flowers. Aelin said she wasn’t sure if Elide had a favorite flower, so I told the florist she had free reign to create the most beautiful arrangement possible.
She looks at them for a minute with a small smile before turning to me. “You’re spoiling me.”
“You deserve to be spoiled,” I say in all honesty.
I’m thinking that blush will be appearing for a majority of our date. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”
We take the camaro to the restaurant. I refuse to tell her where we’re going even though she keeps asking. I like surprising her. 
We pull up to The Stags Steakhouse and her mouth drops open. I put the car in park to get out and let the valet park it but Elide doesn’t move.
“We’re eating here?” She asks, eyes wide. “Lor—”
I hold up a hand. “It’s not too much and it’s delicious.”
I feel her relax as she nods and reaches for her door handle. 
“No, no,” I say quickly. She freezes and I get out and quickly round the car to open her door. One of her brows is raised as if she doesn’t quite believe that I can be a gentleman. I can be a fucking gentleman. After handing my keys to the attendant, I hold out my hand and she takes it. As they pull my car away, we walk inside. 
The place is pristine. It’s one of the highest rated restaurants in Terrasen and the most prestigious in Orynth. I’ve only been here once, when we were celebrating our last album going platinum, but I don’t remember much from that night. I was drunk as hell. Now, I’m completely sober and taking in every moment with my smoking hot wife on my arm. 
I give the host my name and we’re seated at a table under a giant crystal chandelier. 
“Get whatever you want,” I say, and order a bottle of wine for our table. 
She opens the menu, looks through a few seconds, and pauses. After turning the page, her eyes flick to mine. “There’s no prices.”
“No, there aren’t,” I say, drinking from my glass of iced water. “But I promise, you’ll like whatever you choose.”
She’s leaning across the table so I meet her halfway. “This is one of those places where a steak costs forty bucks, isn’t it?”
Her conspiratorial whisper makes me laugh. “Try sixty or more, but yeah, it is.”
Those dark eyes nearly big out of her head. “Lorcan, that’s insane.”
“No,” I say, reaching across the table to take her hand. “For one night, can I please convince you to stop worrying about money?”
She shakes her head. “That’s a lot easier said than done.”
“I know, but please.” I squeeze her fingers. “For one night.”
She sighs, her eyes softening. “Okay. I’ll try.”
She does try but not very hard. At first, she orders a cup of soup and a side salad, but unfortunately for her I order two steaks with two sides each then claim I’m only hungry for one and she should eat the other.
She does.
I can tell she loves it, can tell that she’s practically in heaven with every bite, but when she’s done she simply says, “That was pretty good.”
I laugh. I laugh a lot at the things that she says. Half the time she’s not even trying to be funny, she’s just so damn adorable that I can’t help it.
Once we’re done with our meals, I refill her wine glass with the little bit that’s left in the bottle. She’s finally comfortable, finally relaxed. I don’t know if it’s because of the wine or because of my calming presence, but I hope it’s the latter, although I assume it’s more of the former.
I can’t stop looking at her.
She’s fucking gorgeous. 
She must be able to tell my thoughts because that scarlet tint across her cheeks and chest returns.
“I hope that you’re having a good time,” I say, quietly, her hand in mine once again. I brush my thumb over the back of her hand and her fingers tighten around mine.
“I am,” she promises. “Tonight
” she shakes her head. “I’ve never felt so cherished.”
I smile. I like that word. Cherished. That’s how I want to make her feel, always. Cherished. Wanted. Taken care of.
“Good,” I say, and she pulls her hand back to reach for another sip of wine. Her eyes never leave mine. In the process, she knocks over her glass and spills the red liquid onto her lap, creating a small, dark blotch on the skirt of her dress. She gasps, nearly jumping out of her chair. 
“It’s alright.” I laugh, but she won’t look at me. I can tell she’s embarrassed but no one around us has even noticed. I take my napkin and scoot my chair around the table, pressing it to her thigh, absorbing the liquid. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
She says nothing and when I look up, she’s frowning. My smile falters and she takes the napkin out of my hand, tossing it on the table.
“El, it’s just wine,” I whisper, and she gives me a fake smile and nods.
She’s quiet for the next few minutes as I pay and we wait for the valet. It isn’t until we’re driving home, only a few miles away from the house, that she finally says anything again. She reaches across the space between us and takes my hand. “I really did have a good time, Lor. That place was so beautiful and absolutely delicious. Thank you for taking me there.”
I brush my thumb over her knuckles. “Of course.”
“I’m sorry I overreacted at the end,” she says, quietly.
I look over at her, forgetting that I’m the one driving. “You didn’t overreact.”
“Yes, I did,” she says, and when she blushes this time, I feel it’s out of embarrassment, not because I’m charming. “You were right, it’s just a spill. I can get it out of the dress.” I don’t think she’s done talking so I sit quietly, eyes returning to the road while she sorts out her thoughts. “I’ve never worn anything this nice. I feel stupid for staining it the first time I wear it. You spent so much money on it and it’s so beautiful
and I ruined it.”
“You didn’t ruin it, baby.” I squeeze her fingers and my thumb traces her wedding band. “You just said you can get it out. And even if you couldn’t, it’s okay. Accidents happen.”
She nods, but I can tell it’s still bothering her. The rest of the ride is quiet. After I pull the car into the garage, I give her a look. It takes a second, but then she blinks and scoffs. “Fine. Come on.”
I’m out of the car a heartbeat later and opening her door for her. I grin as she takes my outstretched hand. She isn’t expecting the sharp tug as she stands and she falls into my arms as soon as she’s on her feet. Her soft laugh does things to my stomach. Those aren’t
butterflies, right?
“What are you—?”
Her words cut off as my lips crash into hers. It doesn’t take much before she’s relaxing in my hold, the hand not holding her clutch reaching up to clasp the back of my neck. I wrap an arm around her waist and kiss her like she’s the air I need to breathe.
If I took her to bed right now, what would she do? Would she let me or would I be doing more harm than good?
I pull away, cursing myself as I take in her flushed cheeks, bright eyes, and swollen lips. I wonder what those lips would like around my cock?
Godsdamnit, Lorcan, get your shit together.
We head in and I pour her a glass of wine.
“More wine?” She asks, taking a sip. “You aren’t trying to get me drunk, are you?”
“It’s crossed my mind, but no.” I wink at her and make myself a drink, too. When I turn around, she’s inspecting the stain on the front of her dress. That adorable frown is back, as is the crease between her eyebrows. “What is it, baby?”
“I need to get this stain out as quickly as I can.” Grabbing her clutch, she heads for the stairs, but turns back and swipes her wine. “I’ll be right back.”
I watch her go and then quickly pull my phone out and Google how to get rid of a red wine stain.
Boiling water and table salt. Huh.
The bathroom door is closed when I enter the bedroom and I knock on the door. “Elide?”
“Just a second!”
I know she isn’t, but suddenly I have the image of a role reversal from the night she watched me in the shower. She’s just changing, maybe trying to rinse the wine out in the sink, but now I can’t stop thinking about her touching herself.
I wonder if she touches herself. I’m sure she does, everyone does, but how often? And what does she think about? Does she think about me?
I sure as fuck think about her.
She opens the door, gasping softly when she finds me standing there, both hands braced on the door frame. “Gods, Lorcan, you scared me.”
The dress is in her hands and she’s wearing a white t-shirt and some little black shorts.
Taking it from her, I press a kiss to her lips. “Why don’t you take a bubble bath and relax, baby?”
“But my dress—”
“I can handle it,” I promise. “Believe me, not the first spill that’s happened and won’t be the last one either. Not with Fenrys around.”
She gnaws on her lip and she’s gotta stop doing that cause now I want to sink my teeth into it. “I do have a bath bomb formula I’ve been wanting to test out.”
“Perfect.” I spin her and smack her ass. “Now go relax.”
She yelps then laughs as I turn around to leave and she shuts the bathroom door. The sound of her laughter follows me as I make my way back to the kitchen.
After tossing the dress on the counter, I’m boiling water. As it boils, I grab the salt shaker and pour it generously over the stain. I let it sit, as Google told me to, and when the water is at a boil I start to brush it off. After dipping a rag into the scalding water, I remove the rest of the salt with it and take a step back to admire my work.
It’s not as bad
but the stain is still there.
Fuck.
Back to Google. 
There are a million ways, apparently, to get wine stains out of fabric. A popular one is baking soda and dish soap, but I don’t think we have baking soda so I take on the one that uses club soda.
I have club soda.
I go to the bar and grab a full bottle before going back to the kitchen and stretching the dress out over the sink before pouring the liquid onto the stain. After about five minutes of doing that, scrubbing, and swearing, I’m shocked.
I hold the dress up into the light.
No stain.
At least, not one that can be seen in the soaking wet fabric. I pray to the fucking gods that there’s no stain to be seen when it’s dried, either, but for now I’m excited to ease some of Elain’s anxiety.
I hurry back upstairs and knock on the bathroom door.
“Yes?” she asks, and water sloshes around. “I got it out,” I say through the door. “Wanna see?”
She laughs. “I’m in the bath, per your request.”
“Bubbles cover everything,” I say, impatiently. “Can I come in?”
She doesn’t reply for a second and I’m thinking she’ll say no, but then the opposite comes. “Yeah.”
For a moment, I think I heard wrong but then I twist the knob and she doesn’t protest as I push the door open. She’s sitting in a tub filled with bubbles. The bubbles covering her from the shoulders down and her dark hair now piled high on the top of her head in a bun.
She looks cute as shit.
I realize I’m staring when her lips twist into a smile and one of her dark brows raise. “My dress?”
Blinking, I shake my head before holding up her dress and bringing it closer. “See? No stain. You can tell me how amazing I am whenever you’re ready.” 
She rolls her eyes, but reaches out to brush a couple fingers over the fabric. They come away clean. “Look at you. So amazing.”
Sarcasm drips from her tone and damn it, it shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does. And there she is, sitting in the tub, completely naked.
I assume she is, at least. I highly doubt she’s wearing a strapless swimsuit in there, but I could be wrong.
I fucking hope not.
The humidity in the room has made her makeup smudge around her eyes a little and somehow, she’s even sexier than she was half an hour ago. I didn’t think that was possible.
I toss the dress behind me on the counter, not giving a shit about the former stain, wet spot, or the fact that it was over seven hundred dollars and it’s a wadded up mess, and squat down next to her in the tub. “Look at me? Look at you.”
She does this adorable thing where she scrunches her nose up. “I’m a sweaty mess, and I can’t believe you just threw the dress. You just got the stain out.”
“You’re hot as hell.” My eyes flick down to the water despite knowing they shouldn’t. No luck though, all I can see is a layer of thick, foamy bubbles, with the occasional glimpse of skin. The universe is trying to keep me from seeing my wife naked and I don’t appreciate it. “And it’ll be fine. I fixed it once, I’ll fix it twice.”
I look back up at her and she has an eyebrow raised again. I grin, unashamed. “Can you blame me?”
Elide rolls her eyes, showing that fire again, and I swear, my cock kicks from inside my pants. Resting my forearm against the tub, I dip my fingers into the bubbles and blow them at her. She bats them away, but I catch her wet hand before she can submerge it back under the bubbles. I kiss her fingertips and pause. I lick my lips. “You taste delicious.” Come to think of it, the room smells
sweet. “What is that?”
“It’s the bath bomb I dropped in with the bubbles.” She sniffs delicately at her wrist. “Is it too strong? It’s a mix of a few essential oils. It’s supposed to smell like birthday cake. I haven’t perfected the mix yet—”
I crash my mouth against hers, partially to shut her up, but also because I’ve restrained myself as long as I can. I love when she talks about her business, it’s amazing that she makes her own products and has a following big enough to support herself. It’s one of my favorite things about her, she’s got a kick ass work ethic.
But I could not give a single fuck about it right now.
Because she’s naked in the bathtub and she smells like a cake and I want to devour her.
I pull back and rest my forehead against hers, and she’s breathing just as heavily as I am. Her eyes are just as lust-filled as I’m sure mine are, and it takes everything in me not to climb into the tub, clothes and all. She must be reading my mind because her hands come out of the tub and she starts to unbutton my shirt in the slowest, most agonizing way. I glance between us, trying to get a glimpse of those beautiful breasts that I can’t wait to see, but I see nothing except for my shirt opening. Her sudsy hands brace themselves against my chest, and I take it upon myself to unbutton the rest of my shirt before slipping it off. Her hands explore my chest, my shoulders, and I don’t dare move. She touches me gently, with just her fingertips, and it sets me on fire. Gods, I want her. I want her so fucking bad, more than I have ever wanted anything or anyone. 
I’m so fucking hard that I feel like my dick’s about to break in half.
This time, she kisses me. My tongue searches for hers and when I find it, I can’t get enough of the taste. One of my hands slides into her hair and the other grabs onto the edge of the tub, keeping me grounded, keeping me from losing all control. I’m sure my knuckles are white beneath the ink covering them.
Elide gasps as I take her bottom lip between my teeth and tug, and then her soapy hands are cradling my face. She turns just a little so that she’s better facing me, but I still don’t see a thing.
But that’s okay, I realize, because tonight it’s about Elide.
I spent the entire day making sure everything was perfect for her, making sure she was spoiled, making sure she was treated like a queen, right down to scrubbing a stain out of a fucking dress. I won’t stop now.
Gods, she looked so fucking good in that dress.
I groan into her mouth and I swear she shudders, but I break the kiss again. She moves to reconnect it but I move back, just out of her reach. Her brows furrow, her eyes wide and crazed and full of lust. 
“What?” she breathes.
My hand falls from her hair as I say, “I wanna touch you.”
I expect her to say no, to freeze up, possibly even yell at me. I’m willing to push for it tonight, because I want her so bad, I’ll do whatever I can to make her feel good. I wait for her to fight me, even for her to give me more of her snark I live for.
So when she swallows roughly and nods, breathing out a soft, “Okay,” I don’t believe what I’m hearing.
I ask, a little more directly, “I can touch you?”
To punctuate my words, I dip my fingers in the water, letting them swirl a hole into the surrounding bubbles. A teasing glimpse of her legs peeks through.
Nodding, she says, “Yes. Please.”
Her eyes are bright with anticipation. I hope I don’t disappoint.
I claim her mouth again, one hand cupping the back of her head, the other slipping beneath the water. Despite the bubbles, I easily find her legs, dragging my hand up the inside of her thigh until my fingers gently brush over her sex.
Elide gasps against my lips the second I touch her and I brush my thumb along her cheekbone, trying to soothe her. “Breathe for me, baby.”
“I am breathing,” she snaps back, sass dripping from her words and it’s the just perfect thing for her to say in this exact moment.
I part her folds with a finger, gliding it from the very base of her slit, all the way up to her throbbing clit.
I pull back, just a hair. “You’re already soaked.”
Her blush darkens and she takes in a shuddering breath as I circle her clit with my finger. “Let’s just say I was very glad you offered me the same courtesy of knocking that I did not offer you.”
I stare at her, slowing my finger to a maddening pace. “You were touching yourself?”
I almost miss her quick nod, but don’t and I fight the urge to groan softly. “Were you thinking of me?”
It’s egotistical to assume she was, but I really fucking hope she was.
Her hips jerk as my finger leaves her clit and teases her entrance. Elide breathes, “I think about you all the time.”
My heart does funny things in my chest at that, and it may be just about the best thing anyone has ever said to me. 
But I need her to clarify. It’s stupid, and she’d likely call it territorial bullshit, but I need to know if my wife was getting off to the thought of me or another man.
I don’t move my fingers again until her eyes are focused on me. Leaning down, I press a gentle kiss to her lips. “Were you thinking about me when you were touching yourself, Elide?”
There’s no hesitation this time. “Yes.”
I kiss her again, hot and hard. Her mouth opens to mine and I delve my tongue inside, tasting the heat of her breath and catching the sweet moan she lets out when I push my finger into her warmth. Her thighs part and her hand comes up out of the water to caress my cheek as I let my hand own her, my thumb rubbing her pulsing clit while I slip my fingers in and out of her. My cock throbs like mad in my slacks, begging to get into her. Holy fuck, is she tight. Two years of no sex is very, very good.
Her thighs squeeze my hand and she grasps the side of my neck, her breath panting against my mouth, and I know she's there already. I really want to drag this out, tease her and make her crazy, but that seems cruel right now when she's writhing her hot little core all over my hand. I like horny Elide.
As she moans and rides my hand, I genuinely consider pulling her out of the tub and taking her right here on the bathroom floor, but I said this night was about her, and I meant it. No matter how badly I want to shove my dick into her tight, wet pussy and see if she screams my name.
Suddenly, her walls clench and drench around my swirling fingers up inside her, while the rest of her body arches up, pressing against me, her muscles tightening and quivering. I swallow the cry of pleasure as her orgasm sweeps through her, kissing her slowly as she comes back down.
I have so many plans for her now that the doors have been opened, so to speak.
“Who’s my girl?” I whisper against her ear, moving my hand up to rest atop her stomach.
“Me,” she answers, breathlessly. Her eyes are shut, her chest is heaving, and one of her hands is still white knuckling the edge of the tub.
“That’s right.”
My girl. The last thing I thought I would ever want, and now, all I’ll ever need.
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theladyofdeath · 2 years ago
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No pressure just curious 👀 next chapter of til death do us part?
Hi! It was posted yesterday :) -> @snelbz
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theladyofdeath · 2 years ago
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New chapter! đŸ”„
‘Til Death Do Us Part {Chapter Seventeen}
Elorcan. Rockstar Modern AU.
@snelbz x @theladyofdeath collab.
‘Til Death Do Us Part Masterlist
A/N: The moment you’ve all been waiting for. Enjoy. 😏
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This chapter is 18+.
Elide —
The calls with Yrene have been happening less frequently as time goes on, but today, I’m sitting in front of my laptop, waiting for her to pop up. It’s me and Lorcan’s one month anniversary. I woke up this morning to a table full of breakfast. There was so much food that there was no way we could have finished it, but it was beautiful. He had flowers in the middle of the table and mimosas made to perfection. It was such a sweet gesture and by the end of breakfast I was stuffed silly and a little tipsy, which I found to be a combination that I liked.
Now, Yrene’s picture pops up on the screen and I waste no time as I accept the call.
She’s smiling, like always. “Good afternoon, Elide.”
“Good afternoon,” I smile, and fidget with my hands in my lap. “How are you?”
“I’m fine.” She laughs quietly. “The better question is, how are you?”
“Good,” I say, and mean it. “Great, actually.”
“I hope you’re referring both to yourself individually and with your husband,” she says.
I nod. “Things have been going really, really well. There’s definitely an attraction between us now. Things seem to be getting easier and easier by the day.”
Yrene remains quiet for a moment, like she’s waiting for me to say more. When I don’t, her head cocks to the side. “But?”
Hesitating, I blink. “How do you know there’s a but?”
Yrene’s soft laughter is genuine and makes me feel comfortable around her. “Elide, in our chats, there is always a but.”
She has me there. Although things between Lorcan and me have been going great, I do always seem to have a but. It’s in my DNA. My brain is always searching for the con. 
“I don’t know.” I sigh. “I don’t know exactly how he feels about me and it’s frustrating. Sometimes I get a feel for his emotions, but most of the time I’m just guessing what’s going on inside of his brain. Men are complicated
especially when they’re incapable of sharing their emotions.”
Yrene nods thoughtfully. “So, am I correct in assuming you have yet to have sex?”
After nibbling on my lip for a moment, I shake my head. “No, we haven’t.”
“Because you’re not sure how he feels about you?” she pushes.
“Exactly. I mean, I want to. I’ve been at that place for a little while now, wanting to have sex with him, but I just want it to be the right time.” It was the first time I’m saying it out loud and I realize how much I really do want him, especially after last week. “I want us both to have more intimate feelings, I want it to mean something.”
“And you’re telling me that you already have those feelings?” she asks, voice kind. “That you’re ready?”
“Yes,” I admit, and I’m confident in it. Even though I’m not so confident in exactly what it is that Lorcan’s feeling. “It’s not that Lorcan isn’t good to me. He’s so good to me. In fact, I’ve been surprised at what a good man he is. I just
 I don’t know. I almost feel like, sometimes, he just wants the physical from me but he wants to avoid the emotional. You know? The physical stuff
he’s good at that. But I need more of the emotional from him. I want a deep, emotional connection.” 
Yrene processes what I’m saying, taking a few notes,  before she meets my eye again. “It seems that you two have different love languages. However, they’re not so different that they cannot coincide. It all has to do with how you convey your emotions.”
I frown. “I’m not following.”
“I can’t tell you what Lorcan and I talk about, but I can tell you that he may be expressing how he feels, he simply isn’t doing it the same way that you do, so you may be missing it.” I’m having a hard time making sense of what she’s saying and when I say nothing, she continues. “You two need to learn each other’s love languages and work on finding a common ground.” When I hesitate, she laughs quietly and puts it into simpler terms. “There are a lot of things you could be doing, intimately, without having actual intercourse, Elide.” My cheeks heat as I think about what he did for me in the bath last week, but I don’t say anything. “Maybe that's what he needs. He could possibly, just maybe, be assuming you don't have feelings for him because you're not giving him the type of attention he requires. Just like you feel he's not giving you what you need.”
I nod slowly. “I guess you could be right.”
She laughs and her smile is genuine. “This is what I do, after all
 I think you both need to give a little, specifically you need to let your walls down some. You are married, after all, and intimacy is important in a marriage. While I completely respect you trying to guard your heart and body, I have a feeling that making love with him is only going to bring you closer together. And if what you’re telling me is true, whether you sleep with him or not, if things don’t end well, it sounds like you’re going to have your heart broken anyways. It would be unfortunate if you had to question things afterward, that maybe things didn't go as well as they should have because you both left this huge, important part out of your marriage. The whole idea of this experiment is to put yourself into it one hundred percent.”
Reluctantly, I nod, and I swear, I can see a self-satisfied smile on her face. “Okay. I see what you mean. If this was over tomorrow, and he decided he didn’t want to stay married, I wouldn’t blame him. But I would miss him and I’d be pretty pissed at myself for ruining what we had. The last thing I want is to push him away.”
“Then I think you need to try to spice things up a little, see how it goes. Try to remember you both answered a lot of intimate, personal questions in your written interviews, and we had our reasons when we put you together. I know it might not seem obvious to you right now, but try to trust us, okay?”
“You’re right.” I sigh and pick at a hangnail. “I'm sorry if we’ve been difficult.”
She waves her hand at me. “Don't you dare apologize. That’s what this is all about. You two are by far our most unique couple in the experiment, and you both have been incredibly honest in your chats. So, thank you for that. I know it can get uncomfortable for you at times.”
That was an understatement.
She asks a few more questions, making sure I’ve still been writing in my journal like I’m supposed to before we hang up.
I hadn’t thought about Lorcan needing to be loved differently than I do. While I need him to tell me how he feels, he seems to be more of a show, not tell kind of person. I have no idea how to go about confirming that.
A personality quiz?
I consider the simplicity of the idea, sure that I could find something online, as I head down to the basement to move the laundry over to the dryer. I’ve got a few orders I need to fill, so I head for the stairs, but I notice the door to Lorcan’s workout room is open.
And so is his journal, sitting on one of the benches.
I freeze and a full-on internal war is raging in my head. I know I shouldn’t look, Yrene just told me in our video chat that she couldn’t tell me anything he’d told her.
But it’s right there, and there are things I’ve written in my journal that I definitely haven’t told Yrene about.
I enter the gym, pushing the door the rest of the way open. I cringe when the hinges squeak, even though I know he’s at Vaughn’s getting work done on a new tattoo. He shouldn’t be home for a couple hours at least.
I pick up the soft, leather journal, loving that we both opted to go the handwritten route, rather than just the notes app on our phones or something impersonal like that. The page I’m looking at is blank, but I can tell there’s something written on the one before.
Taking a deep breath, I decide I’ll just read the most recent page. That’s it.
I don't know how to break through the walls she has up. I know she's still scared. I know I've done things to fuck up and my past is shitty. But I've tried to make up for the stuff I've done. I'm not good at talking about my feelings. I try to show them, but I'm not sure it's working. It's like she's clueless about how much she already means to me. I wish she would do something, anything, to show me that she actually wants me. I did this to feel wanted and loved for who I am and what I can give, but fuck, I'm lost. I know she cares about me, but I'm struggling with getting closer to her. I've never been the touchy-feely type, but somehow she's got me doing that stuff. But I want more. Maybe I'm a dick, but sex is important to me. It's just important in a different way with her. I have no idea what I'm even saying anymore. I'm afraid the longer this goes on, we're never going to be more than roommates that tease each other sometimes. I'm not sure where my wife is in all this or how to get her to come out.
My hands are shaking as I put the journal back, just like I found it. My eyes blur with tears as I hurry from the room and back upstairs, laundry king forgotten.
And here I thought he just wanted my body. He wants more, just like I do.
This proves we have a long way to go in our marriage. We have some serious communication issues that we’ll have to work through, and I think that’s why we’re both so confused. I don’t like talking about my feelings and he doesn’t know how.
Forget the online quizzes, forget love languages.
I know exactly what will show Lorcan how I feel.
Lorcan —
Fuck, that feels good.
It’s a little after one in the morning when I’m woken up, or so the clock in the dresser across the room tells me. I’m a pretty light sleeper and it’s not unusual for me to constantly be waking up in the middle of the night, especially when I’m sharing a bed with Elide who moves around nonstop in her sleep, but usually I’m not woken up like this.
What I initially think is another damned sex dream is reality. My body shifts as I groggily open my eyes to my dick hard and satisfied.
There’s not many feelings greater than having a beautiful woman sucking your cock.
Fuck.
The realization has me wide awake and looking down, where Elide is settled between my legs, her mouth taking in the length of me. I can see her perfectly clear, even with the lights off. At first, I think I’m still dreaming but I really fucking hope I’m not.
Even though I’ve had this dream multiple times and it always ends so damn good.
“Elide.” My voice is low and gravelly, rough from sleep. She looks up at me through dark lashes and grabs my base as her lips move up my cock.
“Shit,” I hiss, and I’m almost frozen in place out of both shock and excitement. I don’t want to jinx it, whether it’s a dream or not. Her free hand grips my thigh and her nails dig into my skin as her mouth comes free of me.
Looking me dead in the eye, she smiles and it’s something between sultry and shy that sets my whole body on fire. Her tongue slowly glides over the swollen head and I curse again. 
My head falls back against my pillow as she takes my cock back in her mouth and starts bobbing her head. It’s warm and wet and every so often, her teeth graze my shaft. It’s exactly what I fucking like and I’ve never even told her.
My mind races back to this evening and the time before we went to bed. We ordered in and I picked it up on my way in from Vaughn’s. We watched a movie and made out a little, but I didn’t even so much as try to touch her boobs. And then we went to bed, and she fell asleep on my chest, just like she does every night. What did I do or say to entice her to finally touch me on her own? I come up blank.
I don’t fucking care what it was, not as her tongue swirls around the tip, feeling like wet velvet. I fist a handful of hair, getting it out of her face so I can watch as she goes down on me, mesmerized as I watch my cock disappear in her sweet mouth. She sucks me like she does everything else, soft and sweet at first, teasing me. As she works up to taking more of me, her free hand squeezes the base at the same time her teeth hit me again.
I hiss, my hold on her hair tightening, and her eyes fall closed as she moans. That sexy moan vibrates around my dick and I damn near blow my load right there, but I manage to hold it off, cupping the side of her face.
With her eyes still shut, Elide starts taking me deeper and deeper with each pass. When I feel the head of my dick bump the back of her throat, I’m powerless to stop the groan that tumbles from my lips. “Fuck, baby.”
My murmured praise spurs her on, which I fucking love. She doesn’t try to swallow my cock again, though I’m willing to let her try whenever she wants to give it a shot. Instead, she grasps the base, wrapping her hand around me and moving it up and down in perfect unison with her mouth, creating a long, wet tunnel for me to slide in and out of.
Her eyes meet mine and it’s almost as if I can read her mind.
Go ahead.
My other hand finds the other side of her head and I lift my hips, thrusting up into her waiting mouth.
I nearly lose control as her eyes roll back in her head. Every time I have imagined what this would look like, it hadn’t even come close to this, the real thing. She’s absolutely gorgeous with my cock in her mouth.
I thrust up again, and her tongue is going wild. I know I can’t hold on too much longer. My heart is about to explode from the anticipation. I set a steady pace, careful not to be too rough. I know my full strength and don’t want to scare her away, not just after she decides she finally wants to have her way with me.
I feel myself reaching that point the more I thrust myself in and out of her mouth. My calm, steady pace grows a little quicker and she moans again and again. I practically growl, every curse I can think of falling from my mouth as she grabs my balls and squeezes.
“I’m gonna cum,” I say, in case she wants to pull her mouth away.
She doesn’t.
Thank the fucking gods.
I shoot off into her mouth and she takes it all in with pride. A drip falls out of the corner of her mouth and down her chin as I work out my release. I can’t even speak, can hardly breathe.
When I’m done, her lips leave my dick and she swallows.
If I wasn’t already married to her, I would have asked her right then and there.
She catches the drip running down her chin with a finger and when she licks it clean, I grab her shoulders and haul her up my body, crashing my mouth against hers.
That was the best surprise, middle of the night blow job I’ve ever had, and believe it or not, I’ve had a few.
Hell, that might have been the best blow job I’ve ever had, period.
My hands cup her ass as I devour her mouth, my tongue brushing along hers. She bites my bottom lip and tugs, making me groan.
“Holy fucking shit,” I breathe when her teeth release my lip and she rests her forehead against mine. “That was
”
“Good?” She asks, biting her own lip now. She looks shy and sweet and sexy all at the same time.
“Beyond good,” I murmur, rolling us until she’s under me, my hips nestled between hers. My cock is still out, growing harder again by the second, despite my orgasm not even sixty seconds ago. There’s nothing between us but the little, cotton boyshort panties she wore to bed. “Beyond great even. Amazing.”
Her eyes are shimmering and it almost looks like she’s about to cry when she leans up and captures my mouth in a bruising kiss.
Elide has never kissed me like this. She’s kissed me softly and sweetly, she’s teased me with her kisses. I’ve even had her needy, horny kisses. But this

She’s kissing me with a purpose.
And I don’t want to get my hopes up.
I’m aching to rip off her t-shirt and panties and get in that tight, little body, but I stop myself, not wanting to screw up whatever headway we’ve suddenly made. She just took a huge step out of her comfort zone to give me the best blow job of my life, so I don’t want to push my luck. Instead, while we kiss, I let my hands explore, touching, grabbing, squeezing, until Elide spreads her legs a little wider of her own accord.
I feel the heat of her through her panties the same second she feels me grinding my hard on against her. We both freeze, staring at each other, panting.
I have never wanted someone as badly as I want Elide. I want her mind, body, and soul. One part isn’t enough for me, I need all of her.
She puts a hand on my chest and I pause, thinking she’s pushing me away. But she says, “Lorcan, you’re shaking.”
Shit, I guess I am. “Yeah.”
She’s blinking up at me, framing my face in her hands. “Are you okay, what’s wrong?”
The words tumble out before I can stop. “I want to be the man you need, the man you want. I’m trying, it’s just
hard. This is such a different life than I’ve ever had, but it’s exactly what I wanted. What I needed. I just want to deserve you. I keep waiting to fuck something else up.”
“Lor, you haven’t fucked anything up.” Her arms wrap around my neck tugging me down so my body is flush with hers, almost completely covering it. It feels so right. “We didn’t have the best beginning to our marriage, but that’s the past. What matters is where we go from here.”
I nod and she kisses me, ensuring I believe her words. She starts to move beneath me, rubbing against my cock which is almost painfully hard again at this point. My hips start to grind in a slow, seductive circle against her as I run my hand down the length of her body, hooking my finger in the edge of her panties and tugging them down a few inches.
Her eyes flare in the darkness and her arms around my shoulders tighten. I tug them down a little bit more until I glimpse what lies beneath. I have to see it, I’ve waited long enough with only my imagination to hold me over.
My imagination did not do it justice.
I push myself back on my knees and Elide remains perfectly still against our pillows as I slip her panties down until they’re no longer a barrier. She opens her legs for me and I swallow. Her pretty, pink pussy greets me, and I can’t help but notice how smooth it is, as if she knew I’d be seeing it tonight.
She’s perfect.
I want to touch it.
I want to taste it, taste her.
I can hardly form a thought as I settle myself between her thighs and it looks even more beautiful up close. I take my thumbs and part her folds, memorizing every inch of all she has to offer. Above me, I don’t think Elide is breathing but I look up to find her watching me, cheeks flushed and lips parted. Another day I’ll have my fucking feast, I’ll lay her down and devour her, but right now
I have to be inside of her. My cock needs its release. It needs her.
I have to have just a taste, though. I can’t help it. I run my tongue between her folds as she gasps, then take her clit between my teeth and she whimpers. These little sounds of hers will be my undoing, my salvation. I suck it in for just a second and play with her with my tongue, and she’s so fucking wet that I can feel it on my chin. To no surprise, she tastes sweet as hell. Just as her hips begin to shift, as they begin to grind into my mouth, I’m back up on my knees.
I push my sweatpants down the rest of the way and her breathing hitches as she watches me become completely nude. It’s a silent request that she grants me as she sits up and lifts her arms.
With gentle hands, I take the hem of her t-shirt and pull it up over her head before tossing it aside, not giving a fuck where it goes. 
I don’t move any closer.
I stare at the masterpiece before me.
Her entire body is perfection. I’ve seen glimpses here and there, especially in that bikini in the cabin, and seeing it is a dream come true.
But those tits.
Those fucking tits.
If the research team got one thing right from my application, it was this.
I’ve done nothing but dream of them since the day I met her. And it turns out my imagination is shit, because my wife’s breasts are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I don’t ask, I don’t say anything, I just lean down, taking one of her peaked rosy nipples into my mouth, my fingers finding the other. It’s heavy in my hand and I have the sudden image of my cock sliding between them.
Someday, maybe, but not tonight.
Elide whimpers as my mouth moves to her other breast, my teeth gently tugging on the sensitive nub. Her hand slips into my hair, tugging me up until her mouth is fused with mine. 
After a minute of kissing, my restraint is hanging by a thread. I break the kiss.
“Elide
” I breathe, my voice desperate for her, my lips lingering on hers. I want her so badly.
“Yes,” she whispers, answering my unasked questions. “Lor, I want you, please.”
Restraint? Snapped.
Our bodies somehow get closer, melding together as soon as the words have left her lips. I press my cock against her warm folds and kiss her lips hungrily. “You're sure?” I whisper between kisses. “Please be sure
”
She reaches down between our bodies and palms my cock, rubbing the head against her wet entrance. I grab her hand from between us and pin it above her head, entwining her fingers with mine. My mouth claims hers again as I slowly push my cock into her, causing her to gasp against my lips.
I’m aware of my size. I’m also aware of hers. Although I have no doubt she can take me, I start out slow, gentle. There’s something intimate about it, that gentleness. I’ve never taken my time with a woman before. Now, I’m kissing Elide, trying my best to ease any discomfort while I hold her hand in mine as I slowly inch my way inside of her. I don’t ease in all the way, just enough for her to get used to me, and then I’m pulling my way back out and repeating the motion. With each pass, I go a little bit faster, a little bit deeper, until I set a slow, steady pace. Everytime I push my way inside of her, she gasps, but her lips never leave mine.
My free hand grabs her knee and drapes her leg over my ass. Her body moves with mine, perfectly in sync. 
I don’t know what I’ve been doing for the last decade. There has never been a time that I’ve been with a woman and it’s felt like this. With Elide, there’s something deeper going on. It actually means something to be here with her, wrapped in my arms as I take my time fucking her. I know it when she looks at me and an unspoken conversation flows between us. I can feel everything she’s feeling, can sense everything she has to say, and I mirror every word, every emotion. 
Sliding my hand up her curves, I palm her breast as I kiss her again. My tongue finds hers and she moans into my mouth. It sets me off. With a snap of my hips, I’m in her to the hilt, my cock unable to go any further. Her moan is louder this time, seductive and proud. I love that she’s vocal in bed. It makes me want to see just how loud I can make her. Next time, I won’t hold back.
This time, our first time, I just want it to be something that she’ll remember. I want her to know that I care, that this isn’t just about sex for me.
This connection between us, this has nothing to do with actual sex and everything to do with us tearing down our walls and finally becoming one. A truce, of sorts, of throwing our hearts in the air and hoping the other doesn’t miss it, letting it shatter to the ground.
I push her hair back off her face, wanting to see everything she feels. Her eyes are bright, her mouth open, lips parted in ecstasy. I look down, between our bodies, where we’re joined. The way my cock disappears inside of her in the most erotic thing over ever seen. She feels like heaven wrapped around me.
Her hips start to slowly move with me, her fingers of her free hand digging into the muscles of my ass and hips as small moans and sighs tumble from her lips. I let her set the pace and depth, wanting her to find her own release. Next time, I’ll make her cum so many times, she won’t remember her own name. She won’t remember any name but mine, but tonight, I want her to find that sweet spot and let go. And when she does, her walls contract fiercely around me and she hugs me tighter to her, whispering my name as I cum right alongside her.
My mouth finds hers in a slow, sleepy kiss, our tongues lazily stroking each other, as our breathing calms and settles, despite my cock still being buried inside her. I don’t know how long we stay like that, but when we pull apart, my lips are on her throat, her jaw, her cheeks, her eyelids, her forehead—the need to make her feel cherished and to know that that wasn’t just sex for me. That it was more. I need to make sure she doesn’t regret what we’d just done, that she doesn’t regret finally tearing down her walls and letting me in. I’m guilty of not really being a gentle or sweet lover, especially when it comes to aftercare, but she makes me want to be.
We lie in silence afterward. Neither of us speaks and there’s no playful teasing like there usually is. The air feels charged between us, like something raw is there, something new. Her hands moving slowly over my body while I kiss her say way more than words ever could. She tucks her head against my chest, beneath my chin, and wraps her arms tightly around me like she's afraid I might disappear once she falls asleep.
Not a fucking chance.
I listen as her breathing evens out, as her body becomes a weight on mine, and I know she’s asleep. My hand rests on the curve of her ass and I drift off to sleep staring down into her gorgeous face. 
I’m not exactly sure when it happened but slowly, everything in my life has become about her. It scares the shit out of me, but that’s what this study was about, right? Opening yourself to someone new, giving yourself to them completely.
I might as well change my name to Lorcan Lochan at this point.
Because I belong to her.
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theladyofdeath · 2 years ago
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Any idea when we’ll be getting chapter 10? Love this fic and love reading everything you two write!
I'm so sorry, I'm just now seeing this! It's up on @snelbz 's page if you haven't read it yet!
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theladyofdeath · 1 year ago
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Any updates on the elorcan fic tddup?
As of right now, that fic remains on hiatus. :)
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theladyofdeath · 1 year ago
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So I guess the elorcan fanfic tddup is on a hiatus..,?
It will resume but I am not sure when. :)
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snelbz · 2 years ago
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Chapter 15 coming tomorrow at noon CST! đŸ–€
‘Til Death Do Us Part {Chapter Fourteen}
Elorcan. Rockstar Modern AU.
@snelbz x @theladyofdeath collab
‘Til Death Do Us Part Masterlist
A/N: So sorry this is late! We had some crazy storms in my area last night and today and I never got around to queuing this! Enjoy!
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Elide —
After one very fiery pep talk from Aelin, I’m gazing at myself in the bathroom mirror. This wasn’t how I expected my evening to go, nor did Lorcan, clearly. I believe him when he says he has no hand in this, but when it comes down to it, this was what used to take place when they had a get together.
It’s not his friends’ fault that this was Lorcan’s life. I just didn’t expect our home to be overrun with exactly the type of woman Lorcan wanted me to be.
It all happened so fast. One minute, Aelin and I were in the kitchen, getting more wine, when the doorbell rang. Rowan said he’d get it and we thought nothing of it.
And then I heard voices. Lots and lots of voices.
By the time Aelin and I rushed into the living room, it was full of big titted blondes and tattooed strangers making themselves comfortable wherever they could. Not to mention the long line of people already streaming out to the large back patio.
Sighing, I unlocked the bathroom door and stepped out into our room. At some point while I was in here, Lorcan managed to make good on his word and find Anneith. She was curled up on his pillow, fast asleep, as if the bass booming from downstairs wasn’t enough to shake the water in the bottle Lorcan had left on his nightstand.
I want to join her, want to curl up under the blankets and try to forget about everything going on downstairs but that’s unrealistic. I should find Aelin again. She would be my partner-in-chaos for the night. When I left her, she was going to talk to Rowan about not wanting to be at this shitshow of a party, but I know Rowan wouldn’t leave Lorcan in a house full of blonde bimbos and drugs, and Aelin wouldn’t leave me here to bear it alone, either.
So, I take a deep breath and open the bedroom door after telling Anneith goodnight. The music is horrible, so loud that I feel I may start bleeding out of my eardrums. I hate it. It only gets louder as I descend the stairs. I pray no one goes upstairs to defile any of our bedrooms. 
I weave my way through the crowd but I’m so fucking short that I can’t see anyone beyond those in front of me. I never cared much about being short, but right now I wish I was a good foot and a half taller.
As I enter the kitchen, I don’t see Aelin and I don’t see Lorcan. I can’t tell if I want to see Lorcan or not. I’m pissed, but not so much at him. I’m more disappointed than anything, although I can’t tell who or what I’m disappointed in. Either way, that sense of disappointing dread fills my stomach as I grab a beer off the counter and look around for a bottle opener. 
I don’t like getting drunk.
I think it’s sloppy and disgusting.
One beer won’t hurt, though. Right now I need something to take the edge off, something to keep me from crying in front of a crowd of people that I don’t know. 
After a minute of looking for the bottle opener, I curse and grab a knife out of the silverware drawer. I saw it in a movie once. Surely it can’t be that hard.
“You must be desperate if you’re willing to risk your fingers for a beer.”
I nearly jump at the voice beside me. I was too focused and the music was so damn loud that I didn’t see the gray-eyed man approach me until I had the blade of the knife against my bottlecap.
He’s right.
I must be desperate.
“Looks like someone went off with the bottle opener,” I say, and look up at him. He’s handsome enough, the crisp gray of his eyes something I feel is rare. His black hair is cut neatly, a little longer on the top than the sides, and his smile is warm as he laughs.
“Well, luckily for you, you don’t need one.” I’m about to ask what he means when he grabs my bottle and twists off the top.
I stand there, gaping and mortified. “Thanks.” He can’t hear my half-assed gratitude above the music, I’m sure, but I’m too embarrassed to care.
He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, common mistake. I promise not to tell anyone you were about to go full-assassin on a twist top.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “That’s very kind.”
“I don’t know why I’m here,” he admits, gesturing to the kitchen around us. I know he means the party, not around my island. “Fenrys told me there was a party and I had nothing better to do, although now I feel a night at home with my dog was a better option.”
He takes a drink from his own bottle as I nod. “At least you had a choice.” 
He lifts a brow before realization dawns on him. “Oh, damn, this is your party.”
“And it’s nearing my bedtime,” I say, and he laughs. I add, “It may be my house but it’s not my party.”
His laugh is warm and he holds out a hand. “I’m Nox.”
I take it in my own. “Elide.”
Nox might be the first normal person I’ve met since getting married to Lorcan. We realize what a small world it is when we both realize we’re from Perranth, as well.
“How old are you?” He asks, leaning against the counter. “Maybe we went to high school together or something.”
I hope he doesn’t see me flinch. It’s not a story I feel like delving into. “We’d moved to Orynth by the time I was in high school.”
“Got it.” He’s nodding and I notice had a dimple beneath his five o’clock shadow. “I didn’t think there was any way we could have known each other. I wouldn’t have forgotten you anywhere.”
I think that may have been a compliment, but at the same time, probably not.
“I promise you, I’m very forgettable,” I say, and he rolls his eyes.
“Bullshit,” he mutters, and his lips curve upward as he takes another drink from his glass bottle. “I promise that after tonight you’ll be on my mind for a long time.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, he cringes. “That sounded so cheesy. I’m so sorry.”
My head falls back as I laugh. It’s not a forced laugh, either. I laugh so hard my cheeks hurt. “It’s okay. I like—” “Elide?”
I turn around to find my husband, his tall frame looming behind me. Although he says my name, he’s looking at Nox. He doesn’t have a drink in his hand. In fact, Lorcan’s brows are knitted together as if he’s been filled with tension all night.
“Hey,” I say, and that laughter of mine fades. Uncertainty with that underlying anger returns. Even though I've been enjoying myself with Nox, I’m still pissed at the whole situation. I still don’t belong in this environment. In Lorcan’s environment. 
“I came to talk to you,” he murmurs, but nods at Nox. “Who are you?”
There’s something in his tone that I don’t like. Something hard, his voice full of warning. 
“This is Nox,” I say, slowly, looking up at his tight jaw. “Nox, this is Lorcan.”
“Her husband,” Lorcan says, and he doesn’t even lift his hand or anything in greeting. Doesn’t even say hello. 
It doesn’t sit well with me. 
Nox’s smile falters, surely thinking the same thing. He clears his throat before taking another drink.
I look behind my shoulder at Lorcan and give him a look. He just lifts a brow, like he’s not acting like a total jackass. “Want a drink?” I ask him.
He looks shocked by my question and I suppose he should be. When we first met, the day of our wedding, I had scolded him for drinking. Right now is different, though. He looks uptight and stressed and I feel like he’s taking it out on Nox, whose company I’m enjoying the hell out of. 
“Here, man.” Nox is holding a beer out to Lorcan. “Still cold.”
Lorcan looks at the glass bottle but makes no move to take it. Instead, he grabs a plastic cup off the counter and goes to where the hard liquor sits and fills his cup. I watch him, lips pursed, wondering where the sweet, caring man I had come to know in the past weeks went. It was like he flipped a switch and I don’t know if it’s because of the party or because of Nox, but I don’t like him like this. I continue to watch as he drinks the liquor like its water. He meets my hard gaze with one of his own.
Nox clears his throat again, reminding me that I am not alone with my husband in this kitchen. “Look, if I overstepped—”
“Would you like to go for a walk?” I ask, turning to Nox. “I haven’t shown anyone all my hard-working labor when it comes to our landscaping yet. I know it’s not that exciting, but I—”
“Lead the way,” he says, laughing quietly at my rambling. “Anything to be able to get away from this obnoxious music for a minute.”
Lorcan’s jaw locks.
It’s one of their earlier songs that’s blasting through the speakers. 
I almost feel bad for walking away from Lorcan but at the same time, I don’t. There is nothing romantic going on between Nox and me and there never will be. Lorcan jumped to conclusions. He’s letting his male ego control his attitude and it makes me want to throttle him. I won’t, though, not in front of all of these people. Instead, I’ll take a walk with my new friend and he can kiss my ass. If a party is going to be thrown in my house without my consent then I should at least be able to make friends.
Right?
Lorcan’s downing the rest of the contents of his cup as we exit. I don’t feel bad. I don’t want to be around him when he’s acting jealous. Jealous. That’s what he is. He’s jealous of Nox and I don’t understand why. Sure, Nox is handsome enough, but not nearly as attractive as Lorcan, even though they’re attractive in far different ways. While Lorcan is a rugged type of handsome, a handsome that shouldn’t be handsome but is, Nox is clean-cut perfection. It has me wondering how the hell he knows the Cadre. He doesn’t look like one to fit into this crowd. 
There are people everywhere, in the house, on the front and back porch, the front drive and yard. Nox and I take a few laps around the exterior of the house, barely even looking at the landscaping I’d used as our escape out here. Sitting down on the steps of the front porch, I look over at Nox who finishes off his own beer, setting it on the step beside him.
“I’m sorry about my husband,” I say, giving Lorcan that respect. Whether he’s being an ass or not, he is my husband, even if he jumped to conclusions when he saw me talking to Nox. But he’s my husband, not my keeper. “This is all still new and he can be pretty territorial—”
“Are you the two that got married without knowing each other?” Nox asked, assessing me.
Nodding, I take a deep breath. “That’s us.”
“Huh.”
He doesn’t say anything else, so I turn to look at him. “What?”
“Makes sense why he’d be pissy.” He shrugged, looking back at the house as if he’s expecting Lorcan to come out the front door searching for him. “I’d be wary of someone I don’t know talking to my wife, too.”
“How’d you end up here?” I finally ask, curiosity finally getting the better of me.
“I sell to Fenrys and Connall.”
I blink, sure I have to be misunderstanding him. “And by sell you mean
?”
Nox laughs, shaking his head. “Drugs. Pills mostly, to Fen. Connall almost exclusively smokes weed.”
That was literally the last thing I expected and I’m having trouble wrapping my head around it. “You’re a drug dealer?”
“That’s not the profession I put on my taxes, but yeah,” he laughs.
This truly is a world I’m not used to, if the most clean cut, normal looking guy here sells drugs to the rock stars.
“Nox, hey!”
As if on cue, a couple guys approach and I take the chance to find Lorcan as money exchanges hands and he takes off a backpack I hadn’t noticed he was wearing.
It’s been a while since we left him in the kitchen, but I check anyway. He, and his bottle of liquor, are gone.
With a sigh, I search the house. Once again, my height puts me at a disadvantage. I don’t find him anywhere, although I do see far more than I want to. The number of tits I glimpse when walking from one side of my house to the other is astounding. A line of white powder is on my new coffee table and a guy with face tattoos is snorting it. The music is still loud as hell and empty glasses and cups are everywhere. Bodies are pressed up against one another on the dancefloor and I’m ninety-nine percent sure it’s coming awfully close to an orgy. 
I still haven’t found Aelin, either. I make a note to text her once I find my damn husband. 
After placing my half-empty beer on the counter, I make my way out onto the back porch and I’m suddenly filled with so much anger that my body is shaking.
I found my husband.
He’s in the hot tub in nothing but his boxer-briefs but he’s not alone. There’s about ten women cluttered together, surrounding him, in nothing but their bras and panties. 
His earlier words come back to me about the hot tub being our place, and there’s a burning in my eyes.
He notices me and grins. “There’s my smoking hot wife!” He points at me, and all of the girls he’s with look at me. “Hey, baby! Why don’t you come meet my friends?”
He knows exactly what he’s doing. It seems to him that this is some sort of game and I suddenly feel foolish for trying to make a point with Nox. I went away with my friend, so he went away with his. He’s not touching them. His hands are together on his lap, but I can tell he’s drunk. I wonder how much liquor he had after we parted. His eyelids droop and his body is swaying, just a little bit. 
My jaw locks and I beg myself not to cry. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
He laughs and the girls around him have no shame. They know that their racks are on full display and they’re basically tossing their breasts at him. A thought hits me that makes me sick: how many of these girls does he know? How many of these girls have shared his bed? 
Jealousy. I feel it now too and it’s an ugly bitch. 
“We don’t want to be rude,” Lorcan says, eyes bright as his words slur. “I can’t just leave my friends. Can they come, too?”
My cheeks heat as the girls around him giggle. One reaches out to brush her fingertips along his shoulder and even though he moves away from her touch, I want to throttle her. 
“You’ve made your point,” I say, through gritted teeth. “I’d like to talk to you.”
“This is your wife?” one of the girls asks, laughing as she bobs in the water, bouncing her massive breasts. “She’s so
tiny.”
“Why don’t you come join us?” another one asks, looking up at me. Her high-pitched voice annoys me. “We promise to help you have a good time. Strip down. It feels so good.”
“Yeah, baby, strip down,” Lorcan croons, taking another gulp from his plastic cup.
I’m not playing this game with him. I’m not going to let him taunt me with these women, with his drunkenness. This is a side of Lorcan I haven’t seen yet. At first, his jealousy of Nox was frustrating, yes, but it was also endearing. Jealousy isn’t always automatically a bad thing. If he’s jealous, it means he cares.
I’m not going to consider what that means about my own jealous feelings.
I see the change in his eyes the second he realizes I’m not going to play back.
“Goodnight, Lorcan,” I say, and look around the hot tub at his friends. “You ladies have fun.”
Without another word, I walk back into the house, not looking back at my husband.
When I unlock our bedroom door, Anneith is still asleep, curled up on the comforter. I can’t resist giving her a scratch under the chin and she stretches adorably without waking.
I’m in the bathroom, changing out of my uncomfortable jeans and into shorts, when I hear our bedroom door bang open. 
I know who it is so I don’t panic. Instead, I take my sweet time. I brush my hair for the hell of it before taking a few minutes to pick out another tank top that’s less form fitting and putting it on. Then, when I finally open the door, my husband is standing there in his wet underwear.
And gods, those boxer-briefs do good things to him.
I swallow as I fight to meet his eye but he’s swaying on his feet, too drunk to notice.
“H-hi,” he says, then holds onto the doorframe to help keep his balance. 
My brow shoots up as I cross my arms. “Hi?”
He leans in close to me. “It’s what you say to someone before you start a conversation.” 
The need to rub my temples is overwhelming. “Why are you here?”
He blinks, looking around the room in confusion. “Don’t we live here?”
The look on his face is adorably ridiculous, but I’m pissed so I don’t laugh, no matter how much I want to. I try again. “Why aren’t you downstairs with your friends?” 
“Ohhh,” he says, and takes a step back. “Them. Yeah, I left them to do their thing.” He leans in close to me and his breath smells like the inside of a whiskey bottle. “After a while, they get a little handsy and I wanted nothing to do with that.”
Well, that’s comforting
even though his words are slurred. “Lorcan—”
“You left,” he says, and he’s frowning. “You walked away from me.”
I scoff. “You didn’t seem to be too lonely!”
He rolls his eyes in dramatic drunkenness. “Those girls
” he shakes his head, long hair swaying. I wonder when he took it down. “They mean nothing to me. I lied. They’re not my friends. They disgust me.”
I hesitate as I remember that drunk people are prone to telling the truth. I’m still pissed, though. “I don’t like you like this. I didn’t like seeing you like that, and I didn’t like that stupid stunt you were trying to pull.”
His brows shoot up and he stumbles back to the point where he nearly falls over. “The stunt I was trying to pull? Nox, will you take a walk with me, outside at night, in the dark, just the two of us?” 
I laugh but there’s no humor in it. “Are you mocking me?”
“You started this game,” he says, and pokes me in the chest with his pointer finger. His touch sends a chills through me even though there’s nothing even remotely sexual going on here.
“Game?” My voice is higher pitched than I’ve ever heard it, but to hear him actually refer to whatever bullshit has been going down between us as a game sets me off.
Before I can say anything else though, Lorcan holds up a hand, making me pause. If he were just telling me to stop talking, I would have lost it, but he turned towards the door, stopping to strip out of his wet underwear and pull a pair of sweats on. I don’t even have time to look away before I get a glimpse of his sculpted ass—of course he has defined muscles on his ass—before it’s covered by grey cotton, and he’s out in the hallway.
I’m livid that he had the nerve to walk out on me, right after getting mad at me for walking away from him outside, but then the music suddenly stops. There’s a flurry of outraged voices, but then one voice rises above the rest. “If you don’t live here, get the fuck out.” It’s quiet for a few seconds before he adds, “Now.”
Hundreds of footsteps hurry over our threshold and while I wait for the crowd to clear out, I check my phone that I’d forgotten on the nightstand hours ago. I have two texts from Aelin, one from two hours ago, letting me know they were leaving since she couldn’t find me and Lorcan was getting drunk, and a second about thirty minutes ago, telling me they’d made it home.
I type out a quick text to her, letting her know Lorcan is kicking everyone out and we’ll talk tomorrow. I don’t have the emotional aptitude to deal with my best friend tonight. I know she’s pissed, but just like me, she doesn’t seem to know where to place the blame, which means she’ll just want to vent.
Lorcan comes back in and shuts the door behind him, although a little too forcefully. I jump at the sound before crossing my arms.
“Happy?” He asks, striding past me into the bathroom. He braces both hands on the sink and for a second I think he’s going to puke, but he doesn’t.
“Happy?” I repeat, incredulous. “What about any of this would make you think I’m happy?”
“The house is empty!” He throws his hands in the air and faces me.
“Yeah, and trashed!” I add. “Your sorry ass better be cleaning it up tomorrow. Ask Fenrys to join you, considering he was the apparent mastermind here.”
I’m not even mad about the party anymore, not really. Now it’s just him that’s pissing me off, even though I can’t take my eyes off of his broad, bare chest in front of me.
Lorcan snorts and takes a step closer to me. “You’re just upset I kicked out your friend.”
My mouth falls open and I have half a mind to cross the distance between us and slap him. “You’re an ass,” I snap, instead.
His eyes light up. “Maybe, but at least I speak the fucking truth.” 
This time, I do step forward but he doesn’t move. I go to shove his chest but his hands grip my wrists and suddenly I’m in his hold. He’s not rough, he’s simply stopping me from pushing him, not that it would do anything. It would be like shoving a brick wall. 
From the second his hands are on me, though, I can’t breathe. Even drunk, he’s hot as hell. 
“I won’t apologize for talking to someone,” I say, voice quiet but firm. “You’re my husband, not my owner. You should have a little faith in me.”
“It’s not you I don’t trust,” he says, and his grip on my wrists tightens. He pulls me closer and I wonder if he’s even aware of what he’s doing. “It was that prick. I don’t like the way he looked at you.”
I exhale through my nose, the short burst of air sounding like a laugh. “He wasn’t looking—”
“He was looking at you like he was starving and you were his last meal.” Lorcan’s intense gaze left little room for response. Damn it, isn’t he supposed to be drunk? “And, yes, it pissed me off cause you were smiling at him. You were smiling at him and—” He shakes his head. “Nevermind.”
He releases my wrists, but doesn’t step back. “And what?”
“Nothing.” It’s so quiet I almost don’t hear it.
“It’s not nothing,” I push, touching his chest, gently resting a hand over the inked flesh. “Tell me.”
He won’t look at me, instead he’s found something on the bathroom wall that’s clearly much more interesting. “You were smiling at him and you two looked like you belonged together.”
“What?” I’m not sure what I was expecting, but that hadn’t been it. “What do you mean?”
He laughs, but it’s a hollow sound. “He was what you asked for on your application. To a T.”
Scoffing, I shake my head. “He is not.”
“Fancy ass haircut, neat beard, preppy clothes, not tattoos?” Lorcan rolls his eyes. “I’m sure the accounting office he works for loves him.”
I cross my arms over my chest and my elbow skims over his bare abdomen. “He’s a drug dealer.”
Lorcan’s entire body goes still before he asks, “What?”
“He’s Fenrys and Connall’s dealer,” I say, and watch as his drunk brain tries to comprehend what I’m saying. 
Lorcan’s mouth opens and then closes. “Well, shit.”
I scoff, rubbing my temples. “So you’re telling me that you got drunk off your ass and into a hot tub, in nothing but your underwear, with a bunch of nearly nude women because you thought that I wanted Nox instead of you, because of what I put on my application?” The words rush out of me, a whole new anger taking its place. “Even though our time together has been nothing less than amazing?”
He cringes and hesitates. “I—”
“And instead of talking to me about it, you decided to handle it like a damn, territorial brute—”
“You went off with him just to prove a point!” He yells, and I suppose I did, which makes me hesitate now. 
“That’s not the point!” I snap. 
“Yes, it is!” He jabs, and we’re so close that it’s almost comical because I’m looking up at him while he stares down at me, a good foot and a half separating our faces. “You went off with him even though you knew I didn’t like it.”
“But you had no reason not to like it!” I challenge, running a hand through my hair. “Nothing was ever going to happen—”
He shuts me up by grabbing my face and kissing me, ruthlessly. It’s sloppy and it’s brutal and his tongue is coated in whiskey. Yet, I melt into it, every thought vanishing from my head. He bites my bottom lip and I gasp, my fingers digging into his sides as my anger fades into nothingness. 
He’s drunk, but as I said, drunk people tell the truth and this kiss is no exception. If Nox was looking at me earlier like he was starving, his hunger hadn’t even come close in comparison to Lorcan’s right now.
His hands find the back of my thighs, lifting me up and setting me on the bathroom counter behind us. My hands have found a home in his messy, tangled hair and I’ve never been more attracted to long hair than I am right now. The loose strands are tickling my face as he leans down, but they don’t bother me like I would have thought they would. Instead, they heighten every feeling as they brush against my face, my neck, my shoulders.
One of his hands is pressed to the small of my back, pulling me tight against his body. I can feel every hard inch of him as he kisses me. His other hand weaves into my hair and he cups the back of my head as he grinds his hard cock into me.
I fight off a moan, knowing if I let him right now, he’d prove to me exactly why he’s the obvious choice to be my husband. I know he’d bring a whole new meaning hot, angry sex, but he’s drunk.
He’s drunk and I’m still kind of pissed, no matter how turned on I am.
But I don’t stop him just yet.
He doesn’t push me to go any further, even though I’m tempted to yank down his sweats and take him into my hands. I keep my hands in his hair, though, keep brushing my tongue along his as I imagine what sex with him would be like.
I’m getting closer to that point of letting him have me, even with the events of tonight. I don’t love him, not yet, but I care for him and I do want to have a successful marriage. We’ll be sober for that, though. Sober, so he can remember every damn second.
When that kiss breaks, we’re breathing heavily. His forehead is against mine and my fingers are still wrapped in the strands of his hair. I glance down, unable to stop myself, and see just how ready for me he is. He’s not wearing underwear. There’s nothing to help hold down his thick, lengthy cock. I have to close my eyes to keep myself in check. Gods, what he’s going to feel like inside of me
 The thought alone has me throbbing between my thighs.
Lorcan kisses me softly one more time before he whispers, “I’m sorry.”
Two simple words but they have my chest feeling a million times lighter.
“I was an ass,” he goes on, and even though those words are still slurred, I know he means them. “Again.”
I don’t bother telling him it’s true. He knows well enough. 
“I want to be the man you want,” he confesses, and I wonder if I never say a word just how much he’ll confess. “I want to be the husband you deserve. I want to be everything you want and need.”
I want that, too, more than anything, but this isn’t a conversation we need to have while he’s been drinking. So I don’t say anything.
Instead, I wrap my arms around his waist, letting my head rest against his chest. His arms come around me and I close my eyes as I listen to his heartbeat. As the minutes tick by, the beats slow and it’s not nearly as frantic as it was before.
I don’t know how long we stay like that before we pull apart, Lorcan’s hand coming up to frame my face.
He opens his mouth to say something, but a massive bang from downstairs has him rushing out of the bathroom, through the bedroom, and into the hall. I’m right behind him, shocked at the audacity that someone would have stayed after he kicked everyone out.
I’ve made it to the second floor landing where I can see the living room below while Lorcan’s long legs have already brought him downstairs where he’s in the living room, looking at one of his big, pricey speakers that had fallen.
Fenrys, Connall, Gavriel, and Vaughan are all standing near it. One of the twins has a trash bag and the other has at least ten beer bottles in his arms. The two latter are looking at the speaker, scratching their heads. I blink as realization dawns on me. They’re cleaning up. 
Drunk, apparently, judging from their hazy eyes and the fact that they’re knocking shit over. Gavriel is the only one that doesn’t look completely wasted. 
I can hear the exhaustion in Lorcan’s voice, his alcohol-high wearing off, as he asks, “The fuck are you doing? I thought I kicked everyone out.”
Fenrys has some balls as he looks offended. “We didn’t think that included us.”
“We’re trying to clean up,” Gavriel says, and I know why they call him the voice of reason, the mature one. I can tell from his tone and calm demeanor. “After talking with those two—” he gestures to the twins, “—now all of us know that this wasn’t quite the night you were envisioning.”
Fenrys and Connall look like they’re being scolded by a parent. It makes me chuckle.
Five sets of eyes shoot in my direction. Apparently none of them knew I was here.
Gavriel gives me a chagrined smile. “We’ll clean up and be on our way.”
I shake my head as I descend the staircase. “Don’t drive. You’ll stay here tonight. We have plenty of space.”
Lorcan looks surprised by my offer. 
I shrug. “Only dumbasses drive drunk and I hope they’re smarter than that.”
Gavriel could probably drive just fine, but he doesn’t need to deal with the others, especially the twins, while they’re intoxicated. 
They continue to clean the living room, the kitchen, and the back porch while Gavriel and I supervise. Lorcan joins them, picking up used bottles and gods know what else and I have to admit that it’s hilarious.
Rockstars.
Cleaning.
As they clean, I get to know Gavriel. Lorcan told me that his fiance had passed away and every time he mentions her, his eyes light up. He seems kind and genuine, and I couldn’t imagine losing someone that I want to spend the rest of my life with. He didn’t deserve for that to happen to him. He tells me how music and the Cadre got him through it, and are helping him through that loss still.
It makes me have a new appreciation for Lorcan’s band. Yeah, they’re rowdy and live a lifestyle that I don’t agree with, but they’re also a family. 
Speaking of that family, they’re all a mess, with the exception of Vaughan. Vaughan just seems tired, but Fenrys has gotten sick twice now. There’s no telling what had gone into his system tonight. Connall just seems sad now that his high has worn off, and as for my husband

I watch Lorcan grow more sober - and nauseous - by the second. With each minute that his liquor wears off, his face grows greener.
“Get him upstairs,” Gavriel says, inclining his head in Lorcan’s direction. “We’ll handle the rest and lock up before we go to bed.”
I’m already moving towards Lorcan, very willing to take Gavriel up on that. I need to get him in bed while he still has the capability of doing so. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, go.” Gavriel is moving out of the way, and by the look on his face, it’s a toss up whether Lorcan will throw up or not.
Wrapping my arm around his waist, we head back for the stairs, everyone saying their goodnights.
Halfway up the stairs, I look up at Lorcan, finding his eyes already on me. I smirk. “Was getting drunk with your friends still worth it?”
“No,” he murmurs as we enter our room. I take him straight to the bed and help him lay down. “They were annoying and way too handsy.”
I get a towel and lay it on the floor by his head, just in case, before sitting on the edge of the bed. Using my fingers, I brush his hair back off his face. His eyes fall closed and he looks like he could fall asleep any second. I remind him, “You used to like that.”
“Yeah, but now I like you.”
His words are so blunt, I wonder if he even meant to say them aloud. It’s the closest he’s come to saying he actually has feelings for me, but I don’t know if he means it the same way I do.
His eyes stay closed and after a few minutes, his breathing evens out and I know he’s fast asleep. I can still hear the rest of the guys downstairs, so after finishing getting ready for bed, I shut the bedroom door and flip off the light.
At some point, Anni had hopped back onto the bed and is asleep on Lorcan’s pillow. I roll my eyes before climbing into bed myself.
Before I can even finish settling, Lorcan’s arms have wrapped around me, pulling me into his chest.
I like being against his chest. It makes me feel not only comfortable, but safe. It makes me feel cared for. With the steady beating of his heart against my back, I finally relax enough to shut my eyes and start to fall asleep.
As I dream, his words repeat in my mind over and over again.
But now I like you.
But now I like you. 
93 notes · View notes
snelbz · 2 years ago
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Hi, first I'd like to say that I am loving TDDUP and can't wait how the story will continue. I was just listening to a song "If it means a lot to you" by A day to Remember and it gave me strong Elorcan vibes in your story. Like that song could fit them in the end of the story possibly 👀
Sooooooo that song may or may not have been the very first song that I added to my “TDDUP” playlist when Tara and I started writing this one. Good eye, anon. Good eye. 😉
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theladyofdeath · 2 years ago
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New chapter!
‘Til Death Do Us Part {Chapter Fifteen}
Elorcan. Rockstar Modern AU.
@snelbz x @theladyofdeath collab
‘Til Death Do Us Part Masterlist
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This chapter is 18+.
A distant banging pulls me from a heavy sleep. I didn’t even drink that much, how do I have such a pounding headache?
Lorcan’s body is covering over mine, his leg draped over my hip and his arm over my waist. His breath still smells like whiskey and I want to go back to sleep. I have no idea what time it is.
The banging sounds again and I realize that’s my front door, not a headache. I sit up, my husband barely stirring as he rolls over to the other side. Hopping out of bed, I shove my feet into slippers before opening our bedroom door and hurrying down the stairs. I see Vaughn is still passed out on the couch and I wonder where Gavriel and the twins ended up.
I reach the door, just as a third round of pounding starts up and yank it open.
I was expecting a groupie from the night before or even a fan that had gotten our address from the party. Maybe even paparazzi.
I was not expecting my best friend and her boyfriend, laden with familiar coffee cups and bags of groceries.
“Who wants brunch? Gavriel texted Ro last night and said everyone was crashing here.” Aelin says, brushing past me, shoving an iced chai latte in my hands. She looks around. “This place does not look like a rager took place here last night.”
I blink, staring after her as Rowan chuckles and follows her inside. The tea in my hand is a gift all in itself so I don’t bother asking too many questions.
“The drunk idiots cleaned up before they went to bed,” I say, and shut the front door behind them. I follow them into the kitchen. “Except Gavriel. He just told everyone what to do. Such a gift.” 
“He really is,” Aelin agreed. 
“Lor still sleeping?” Rowan asks, starting to take food out of all their bags. 
“Oh yeah.” I laugh. “I don’t see him moving any time soon.”
“I hope you weren’t too mad about last night,” Rowan says, giving me a sympathetic look. “They may be idiots but they have good intentions.”
As I look at Aelin, she rolls her eyes and subtly shakes her head. I laugh as I shrug. “Lorcan and I talked it out. I don’t think that’ll be happening again. Ever.”
I help gather a series of pots and pans to make sausage, bacon, eggs, pancakes, and hash browns. As Aelin and Rowan start cooking, I go back upstairs to check on Lorcan.
He’s right where I left him, though one arm is reaching towards my pillow. I set the coffee they brought for him on his night stand and two aspirin beside it before sitting on the edge of the bed. Lorcan’s hair is all over his face, so I reach over to brush it back.
And promptly freeze. I’ve never woken someone up, aside from Aelin after the occasional drunken sleepover, but certainly never my hungover, rockstar husband.
“Lorcan?” My voice is hushed, not wanting to scare him, but he doesn’t stir. If I couldn’t see his back expanding with his steady breathing, I might be worried. “Lor?”
Deciding to give him a few more minutes of sleep, I slip into the bathroom and see to my needs before brushing my teeth, putting on a bra under my tank top, and pulling on a pair of leggings. I can’t be bothered to do more than pile my hair in a bun on top of my head. Stepping back out into our room, I sit by Lorcan’s head again.
This time I don’t hesitate. Brushing his hair off his face, I softly say his name. His eyebrows twitch, which is more than I was getting a moment before. “Wake up, baby.”
The pet name slips from my lips before I can decide if it’s a good idea or not but then his eyes are fluttering open.
And good gods, my rugged, handsome husband looks like shit.
His eyes are bloodshot, with deep, dark rings beneath them. He’s pale and looks like he could use a shower, but he also looks like he might fall over if he tries to stand up.
“Good morning.” His voice is gravely and rough. I have to remind myself that he’s hungover and is not asking to pick up where we left off on the bathroom counter last night. “What time is it?”
“Ten-thirty.” I push the rest of his hair back and his eyes fall closed. “Aelin and Rowan brought coffee and are making brunch.”
“Want coffee, don’t want brunch,” he says, turning his cheek into my palm, eyes still closed. I hadn’t been cupping his face before but I am now. “Want you, don’t want Aelin and Rowan.”
I laugh, quietly. “Well, I do want brunch because I didn’t drink half my weight in whiskey last night.”
He groans at the memory. “I never want to think about alcohol again. I haven’t drank that much in a decade.”
I run my fingers into his hair and scratch at his head. He sighs contentedly, his cheek still resting in my opposite hand. “I find that extremely hard to believe,” I tease.
He nips half-heartedly at my hand with his teeth but he doesn’t have enough energy to play right now so that’s as far as his reaction goes. “Coffee?”
“Sit up,” I gently say.  As soon as my fingers stop scratching his head, he frowns. With that frown, he opens his eyes and pulls himself into a sitting position. “Fuck.”
I purse my lips to keep from laughing. It’s not funny, it’s really not, but this side of Lorcan is certainly
new. 
And adorably pathetic.
I give him his aspirin and he washes it down with a gulp of his coffee before falling face first back into his pillow. I start rubbing his back and a muffled curse slips from his mouth, which makes me smile.
I should not think that someone this hungover is cute, but here we are. 
“You know, it kinda sucks that you feel so shitty,” I say, and a grunt greets me in response. “Yeah,” I go on, as if he’d just asked me why. “I had so many plans for us today.”
A second passed before he turns his face to the side. Eyes still closed, dwelling in my back massage, he asks, “Like what?”
I nearly forget to reply as I memorize how his back muscles feel beneath my palms. “Oh, I thought we could go down to the farmers market and get some fresh fruit, then I thought we could go exploring a little more in the woods behind the house, then I thought we could make use of our new hot tub—”
His eyes open at that. Although still red, they look a little bit clearer. “Oh, yeah?”
“Mhmm,” I croon, my hands finding their way to his shoulders. “But since you don’t feel good, I guess I’ll have to do all those things alone.”
“Brunch and a nap and I’ll be fine,” he says, sitting up to prove it.
The only thing it proves is that he’s not fine.
As soon as he’s on his feet, he sways for a second and then he’s rushing to the bathroom. Before I can ask if he’s okay, I hear retching and cringe. Some people like emotional support while they puke, some don’t, and I’m not going to find out where Lorcan falls on that spectrum while heïżœïżœïżœs getting sick. It goes on for another minute or so before I hear the sink turn on and Lorcan’s electric toothbrush a second later.
I’m waiting on the edge of the bed when he comes out. He’s washed his face, brushed his teeth, pulled his hair back, and he almost looks human again. I can tell he wants to come collapse next to me on the bed, but instead, he pulls an old band shirt from the dresser and tugs it over his head.
We can already hear the murmurs of multiple voices from downstairs and Lorcan takes my hand, pulling me to my feet.
Leaning down to kiss me, he apologizes for last night again. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I tell him it’s okay, as long as it doesn’t happen again. Jealousy is okay in small doses, but the territorial bullshit he pulled isn’t.
We make our way downstairs, finding brunch almost done and everyone awake, even Fenrys, sitting in a chair in the corner, Anneith in his lap.
As the food is served, champagne popped for mimosas, and laughter shared, Lorcan presses a kiss to my temple. “Looks like we got our family meal after all.”







Lorcan comes into the bedroom without a shirt on. I swear the man never has a shirt on at home. 
Not that I’m complaining. 
“Yrene’s ready for you,” he says, heading towards the bathroom. “I’m gonna shower.”
He finished his workout before hopping onto his video call with Dr. Towers. I may have gone downstairs to watch him for a minute. No shame.
“Good,” I say as I hop off the bed. “You stink.”
His eyes narrow as he steps back towards me and pulls me in for a kiss, purposefully covering me with his giant, post-workout body. I squeal as he nuzzles his face into my neck. Once I’ve giggled and squirmed enough, he seems to be satisfied and disappears into the bathroom as I walk down the hall and into the room that I’ve started turning into my office. 
Yrene is already up on the screen from Lorcan’s call and I sit down with a smile. We do our usual dance with one another. She asks me a multitude of questions and I answer her honestly. With each call, my answers get more and more positive which seems to make us both happy. After five minutes we’re already saying goodbye and I’m making my way back down the hall to our bedroom with a yawn. 
It’s been a long ass day and I’m more than ready for bed. 
I can hear the shower running on the other side of the bathroom door and sit on our bed to wait my turn to get in. I wait five minutes before deciding this must be one of his obnoxiously long showers that he has a habit of taking. 
Not wanting to wait an hour to brush my teeth and wash my face, I turn the knob to grab my stuff and go down to the guest bathroom. Surely he won’t mind.  
We’re not exactly to the point of sharing a bathroom yet, seeing as the only time I’ve seen him naked was last night when he stripped off his soaked underwear, so I try to be quick. I poke my head in, thinking if I’m quiet enough, he may not even know I slipped in, but my eyes catch on the reflection of the glass shower doors in the mirror and I freeze.
I should turn around and close the door, but I can’t even look away. I’ve forgotten how to move my eyes, much less my feet, so I do nothing but stand in the doorway and stare.
The doors are slightly frosted from the steam, but there’s no obscuring his muscular frame, his head bowed, long hair hanging down around his chest, blocking his face. I have the sudden urge to braid it at some point, which is ridiculous for about ten different reasons, the least of which being my dislike for that hair when we got married. One hand is pressed firmly against the tile in front of him, but the other

The other is fisting the most massive erection I’ve ever seen.
I’ve only seen a few in person, but the internet is a thing, and suddenly, I’m worried for my own well-being whenever I decide to have sex with him.
I take a shuddering breath, watching as he strokes his cock. It’s
mesmerizing. After a minute, he  leans back against the other tile wall, tipping his head back and revealing his face, mouth slightly parted, as his hand pumps faster. My gaze finds his cock again, just as he grunts and thick ropes of cum shoot into the water spray. His hand slows, gliding up and down the thick length of his shaft, reveling in his own ecstasy as he moans and then lets out a deep sigh. 
Realizing that I’m still staring, I quickly bolt before he catches me.
I’ve never watched a guy jerk off before. I can honestly say I’ve never been interested in the idea, until this exact moment. But damn, that was the hottest thing I've ever witnessed in my life, and now my panties are soaked, there’s a throbbing between my legs, and my heart is trying to beat out of my chest.
I don’t need to brush my teeth. I don’t need to wash my face. I just need to change into my pajamas and get in bed before Lorcan gets out of the shower, because there’s no way I can face him right now.
I shut the door behind me as quietly as I can before taking off my shorts and panties and shoving them into the bottom of my hamper. The need to touch myself is overwhelming and I hate every second that passes as I slip on pajama bottoms and turn off my bedside lamp before crawling under the blankets.
My heart is beating ridiculously fast as I try to close my eyes and fail. As soon as my eyelids flutter shut, I’m picturing his cock. Gods, it was massive. Long and thick and inviting. I rub my thighs together in hopes of some sort of relief.
I need to calm down.
I need to get my shit together.
As the shower turns off, I start to panic. Pulling the blankets up over my chest, I bury my face in my pillow and become still as the bathroom door opens. 
I don’t see if Lorcan is looking at me or not but I hear his dresser open and close. I wait, my eyes shut, my heart nearly beating out of my chest.
One would think that my panic would stop the throbbing between my thighs but it doesn’t and I really wish it fucking would.
Lorcan crosses back to the bathroom and hangs up his towel before turning off the light, putting our bedroom in utter darkness. A second later, the opposite end of the bed dips and shifts as Lorcan crawls onto the bed. He’s soon behind me, his bare chest against my back and I know he’s wearing those damn sweatpants low on his hips. 
It’s quiet for a moment and I think he thinks I’m asleep. Good. At least I’m fooling him because I sure as hell am not fooling myself. I don’t think I’ll be sleeping at all tonight.
A few minutes pass and I think he’s asleep, but then he leans in close and whispers into my ear, “Did you enjoy the show?”
Continuing to be asleep is probably the best move, but I’ve never been the smartest person. I decide to play dumb. “What show?”
His deep laugh rumbles through his bare chest and into my back as his arm wraps around my waist. “You’re the one who said you didn’t like playing games last night, Elide, so don’t start now.” His lips find the spot where my neck meets my shoulder and my head lulls back. “Besides, you and I both know I can play them better.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I’m not only playing dumb at this point, I am dumb, but that’s because my resolve is crumbling. I no longer give a shit about how I feel about my husband as long as I get to feel him inside me.
I can feel his breath on my neck, mouth hovering over my skin. “You should have told me you wanted to watch, I would’ve given you a much better view.”
Gods, help me. I clench my thighs together, praying he doesn’t notice.
His arm tightens around me and despite the fact that I watched him cum in the shower less than five minutes ago, I can feel him getting hard again against my backside.
“Do you want to touch me, Elide?” he asks, voice low and sensual.
More than anything. “No.”
The chuckle and kiss Lorcan presses to the back of my neck tells me he knows I’m lying.
I don’t think I’m breathing. 
His mouth trails from the back of my neck to my shoulder where he bites down softly. I suck in my bottom lip to keep from giving him any vocal response. His hands remain around me, against my abdomen, and I long for him to touch me. I want it. I want him.
But not now, not yet. I need more.
Even though my body thinks otherwise.
His hardened cock is all I can think about. It takes everything within me to keep from grinding my ass against him. Especially when his fingers dig into my sides and he sucks at the base of my neck.
I imagine what those lips would feel like sucking on my nipples, or even better, my clit.
Gods, I’m soaked again. It’s agonizing.
Suddenly I’m on my back and he’s above me, his damp hair hanging around us like a curtain. He whispers, “I don’t believe you.”
And then his lips are on mine, but it’s not the bruising, claiming kiss from last night like I expected. It’s slow and languid and sweet. His hand cups my face and his tongue brushes against mine and then
it’s over.
As quickly as it began, Lorcan pulls away and I wait for him to lean in again. I’ve let him go further and further every time we end up kissing, and while I’m not ready for sex, I want more. Despite what I said, I want to touch him and I want him to touch me. My pussy is practically quivering with need and it’s getting worse with each passing second.
But he doesn’t lean back in, not for more than a quick peck to my lips. “Goodnight, baby.”
He smiles and then settles in behind me, his arm going over my waist just as it has every night we’ve gone to bed together.
I lay there in shock for a solid few minutes, half staring at the ceiling and half staring at the wall. His breathing evens out far before mine even slows down and I’m left wondering how the hell he turned the tables on me.
I’m still wildly turned on, but the throbbing between my legs has become a more bearable ache. My heart is still trying to beating out of my chest, but I focus on Lorcan’s breathing and the beat of his heart against my back.
Before I know it, I’ve drifted off to sleep myself.
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theladyofdeath · 2 years ago
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New chapter!
‘Til Death Do Us Part {Chapter Thirteen}
Elorcan. Rockstar Modern AU.
@snelbz x @theladyofdeath collab
‘Til Death Do Us Part Masterlist
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Lorcan-
The next week goes by in a rushed daze. I’m living in my new house with my wife, which in itself is still wild, but something I’m quickly getting used to. The house was the cheapest on the list Ansel put together for us, over a hundred thousand below what I was wanting to spend. I turned around and spent the money I’d saved on the house on workout equipment to turn part of the basement into a home gym. And parked next to my Camaro in the garage is Elide’s new BMW SUV.
Although she claimed she didn’t want a car, I know she likes it a lot more than she’s letting on.
Aelin and Rowan helped us move in which honestly didn’t take as long as I thought it would. All of my stuff from my old place took about a day to move and Elide’s took about the same. She was strangely sad about leaving her own apartment but I guess I get it. She had been there for years.
Anneith didn’t seem to mind. She’s lounging in a sunlit window in the living room, which is where she has spent every day of the last week. 
It’s been a good week.
And it’s getting better every day.
Elide seems like she likes it here. She’s been happy every day and we haven’t had any more talk about us not being right for another. I think she’s finally warming up to the idea of me as a husband. Shit, I think she’s even starting to like the idea. Although we still haven’t fucked, she’s fallen asleep on my chest every night and we’ve woken up the same way in the morning. She kisses me more. I kiss her back and to my delight, she doesn’t stop my wandering hands. 
I’m watching her now as she washes her new car - you know, the one she didn’t want. I could probably go down and help her but I’m having too much fun sitting on the porch swing, watching as her T-shirt gets wet.
She thinks I’m out here just to watch her, which, let’s be honest, is solidly eighty percent true. But there’s another reason. A reason that’s currently pulling up our driveway.
Elide’s head pops up as the massive delivery truck pulls in behind her car. I meet her at the bottom of the stairs. “What’s this?” She asks, brushing back the stray hairs that had fallen out of her ponytail.
“You’ll see.” I give her a smirk, going out and meeting the driver, signing the paperwork, and directing him on where to drop it.
Forty five minutes later, we’re on the back porch, she’s shaking her head, and I’m wearing a grin.
“You did say you wanted a hot tub.”
“I did,” I agree, and I hug her from behind. It’s become one of my favorite things to do. She’s so damn tiny and it makes her smile every time. “I thought, since we had such good communication skills while we were in the hot tub, that could be our thing.”
Looking back at me over her shoulder, Elide raises an eyebrow. “Our thing?”
“Yeah.” I turn her so she’s facing me. Her arms are around my waist and I love how freely she’s been touching me. “When we need to talk about something, we can do that in the hot tub.”
Her head falls back as she laughs and the sight is stunning. “Not as romantic as I thought our thing would be, but I guess I can’t complain. I do love a good hot tub.”
“As soon as it’s full and hot, we’re in it,” I say and I can’t help myself as I lean down to kiss her.
Her arms tighten around me and I can feel her body through her wet t-shirt. It does ridiculous things to me. Hopefully she can’t tell, but I’m sure she can. If I can feel every inch of her, she could surely feel every inch of me. The way her eyes narrow when she leans back tells me I’m hiding nothing and it only makes me grin.
Rowan and Aelin have come over a couple times, but for the most part, it’s only been the two of us. Everyone is coming over tonight, though, all of the guys and their guests. As of this morning, all papers are signed and Elide and I are officially homeowners. So we’re going to celebrate. I just don’t know if Elide is ready for a Cadre celebration. Hopefully, this one won’t get too rowdy.
For that reason, I know we won’t be using the hot tub today, or likely even tonight, but soon
 Soon, I’ll get her in there.
Maybe naked, if I’m lucky.
We’re still a few hours away from everyone coming over, but I assume she’s going to want some time to get ready, so I help her finish up her car and we head inside.
A tiny, black ball of fluff comes tearing out of the kitchen, meowing and crying. The first time the cat did this, I assumed something was wrong. Now I know that it means her bowl isn’t absolutely, completely full and that’s unacceptable to her. I lean down, scooping the cat up and setting her on my shoulder. “Why don’t you take a shower and I’ll figure something out for lunch, both for us and the princess here?”
As Anni nuzzles my neck with her face, Elide chuckles. “And to think you didn’t like her only a week ago.”
I scoff, covering Anneith’s ear. “Don’t tell her that. She’ll be sad.”
Elide’s grin widens as she disappears inside and I take Anneith to the kitchen and dig through the fridge. I have stuff to grill tonight when everyone gets here, but I settle on a couple of grilled sandwiches for lunch. Once I get Anni settled, I turn on the skillet and melt some butter in the pan before making grilled cheeses with chicken. I add bacon and ranch for the hell of it and slap on some lettuce before cutting up some fruit for the side. I’m just putting the plates on the table when Elide comes down the stairs.
She’s dressed in jean shorts and a tank top, and her dark, wet hair is brushed back, just starting to dry. She hasn’t done her makeup yet and although she looks gorgeous when she’s dressed to “perfection”, I’ve found that I like her best like this. All natural.
Her cheeks turn pink when she notices me staring.
We sit together and eat as we fall into a comfortable silence with bits of small talk. I’m a little nervous about everyone coming over tonight. Talk about two worlds colliding. When Fenrys is involved, I never know how things will pan out. When I talked to Rowan this morning, he mentioned that he didn’t think Fenrys was up to anything but I don’t trust the guy for a second.
I’ve known him for too long.
Once lunch is done, I go upstairs to put on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Elide is adamant that I brush my hair so I do, even though I hate brushing my hair. I tie it back anyway to keep it off my neck while I grill.
When I come back downstairs, Elide is sitting in the living room with Aelin and Rowan who have apparently shown up early. They’re all laughing about something and I take a minute to admire Elide when she laughs.
Her eyes shine the brightest when she laughs.
Gods, I sound like a Hallmark card.
“What’s so funny?” I ask as I enter the room. Elide is sitting on the couch, while Rowan and Aelin share an armchair next to the fireplace. Sitting down next to her, I drape my arm along the back of the couch.
I long to be able to tug her into my lap like Rowan and Aelin, to share space with her, but we haven’t had the PDA talk yet. We haven’t really been around anyone but each other, and when others were around, we were both too busy for me to even steal a kiss. I don’t know how she feels about it and I don’t want to do anything to push her away. Things have been going great and I can only hope they keep getting better.
“Elide was telling us about how great you and Anni are getting along.” The shit-eating grin on Rowan’s face tells me just how much he’s loving the fact that I gave the cat a nickname.
Aelin is still laughing, and when I glance over at her, I find that Elide is smirking.
It turns me on far more than it should.
Turning back to Ro, I say “Yeah, looks like one thing from this study worked out. I’ve been thinking about getting a pet.”
I hear a scoff from beside me and then Elide’s slim shoulder nudges my arm. Chuckling, she says, “You’re an asshole.”
I flash her a grin.
When we look back up, the two of them are staring at us.
Elide is the one who asks, “What?”
“Why don’t you two
” Aelin’s voice trailed off as she gestures to the two of us, flailing a bit. “You know, touch each other?”
“I literally just shoved him,” Elide replies, but her cheeks are flushed.
Wait, that was a shove?
“Bitch, you know that’s not what I mean.” Aelin looks between the two of us. “Every time Ro and I are sitting together, we’re touching in some way. His arm around me, my hand on his leg, holding hands.” To punctuate her point, she points to where she sits on his lap, as if we couldn’t notice. “You two are married, but sitting together, you look like a couple waiting for their table on their first date.”
Shrugging, I say, “Well, we technically haven’t had a first date, so.”
Elide was nibbling on her bottom lip. “We’ve only known each other for weeks
barely. And we do
touch each other.”
Aelin lifted a brow in Elide’s direction and Rowan shot me a look. I knew what he was thinking, it was exactly where my mind had gone when she said that we touch each other. Gods, I fucking wish.
But I’m a patient man.
Patient enough, anyway. 
I give Rowan a subtle shake of my head that I think the girls don’t pick up on, but Aelin’s eyes snap to me. “You don’t touch each other?”
I look at Elide who still has pink cheeks but turn back to Aelin. “Mind your own damn business, Galathynius.”
Rowan snorts but he’s looking at Aelin who says, “She’ll just tell me when we’re alone, anyway.”
Elide doesn’t deny it. 
There comes a knock on the door and I get up to let Gavriel in, who brought Vaughan with him. It’s nice to see Vaughan although we always seem to miss each other. We head out back to the grill and start on dinner. I’m talking with Gavriel about the seasoning I’m using on the chicken and steak kabobs I’m about to drop on the grill when Rowan comes out onto the back porch, looking sheepish.
My sentence fades as we both look at him.
“Good news or bad news first.”
When Rowan says that, they’re usually both bad news
.one is typically just worse.
“Good,” I say, slowly, feeling like I should go inside and check in on my wife.
“We have a bunch of booze if you wanna drink,” Rowan says, gesturing behind him.
Gavriel sighs beside me and I feel the same as I say, “And the bad?”
“Fen and Con are here. They brought some
friends.”
I don’t like the way he says friends.
“What kind of friends?” Gavriel asks, but before Rowan can answer, Fenrys comes out with two of the most notorious girls we know on his arm. They’re sisters and you can pretty much count on them to be at every show we play. Their daddy has money so they can do whatever they want. I know they’ve slept with all of us at least once, so having them around Elide is a bad idea.
Having them around Aelin seems like an even worse idea.
“Where’s Elide?” I ask, eyes widening in horror as more and more people spill out onto our back porch.
Rowan seems to be having the same reaction I am. “She and Aelin were in the living room when I came out to warn you.”
“Housewarming party!” Fenrys hollers, approaching us. The expansive back deck has someone on every inch of it, sitting on the patio furniture, leaning on rails. Thankfully, no one is in the hot tub. Yet. He wraps an arm around each of the girls. “You guys remember Krissy and Kasey.”
We all three make noncommittal noises and awkwardly wave.
Krissy, or actually maybe that one is Kasey, says, “Thanks for inviting us over.”
She looks liable to leave Fen’s side and latch on to any of us, and that’s not something I’m interested in happening. “Yeah, you’re welcome. Fen, can we talk?”
I don’t give him an option, grabbing his arm and yanking him away from the gathered crowd.
He rips his wrist from my grip. “Ouch, man, what the fuck?”
“Why the fuck did you groupies to my house?!” I keep my voice relatively quiet, but my rage is usually calm.
He looks at me like he doesn’t understand why I’m pissed. “You said you were having a party.”
My head falls into my hand. “A housewarming party, Fen, in my new house with my new wife. You can’t just bring groupies here, now they all know where I live.”
Fenrys blinked. “They know where we live and you used to live there. What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is that my wife was expecting a nice relaxing night with just us, our little group, and now I have all these strangers in our house,” I hiss, the words flowing out of me. “I just got her to not think I’m a total whore, now you have women here that can’t keep their fucking hands to themselves.”
Fenrys snorted. “They’re not for you. We’re taking them home.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “That’s not the point, Fen.”
“Look,” Fenrys begins and I know this tone. I don’t like where he’s headed. “Just relax. It’s gonna be fine. Have a drink. Finish making your fancy ass chicken. Turn on some music. Everyone’s going to be too drunk or high to even remember where you live. Live a little.”
Before I can kick his ass, he’s walking away and I’m searching for Elide. In the process, Gavriel is taking the kabobs off the grill before they burn. I remind myself to give him my thanks later. As I enter into the house, someone has figured out my speaker system and music is playing.
Twenty minutes.
I lost control in twenty minutes.
I find Elide standing by Aelin, watching as the crowd the twins brought with them begin to make themselves comfortable.
She gives me an exasperated look.
“I’m so sorry,” I blurt, and take her hands, forgetting that Aelin is even there. “I promise I had nothing to do with this. If you want—”
“It’s fine,” she says, although I’m not certain she means it. Weariness fills her eyes as she looks around. 
“It’s not,” I said, squeezing her hands. She’d been looking around the room, her eyes searching low.
The damn cat. She was looking for Anneith.
“I’ll find Anni, get her locked up in our bedroom. And then I’ll tell everyone to leave.”
I turn to leave, but her hand catches my wrist. “No.”
When I turn, she’s gnawing on her bottom lip. “Yes to Anni,” she breathes, shaking her head. “But don’t kick everyone out. It’ll piss them off and they know where we live now
”
Of course she’d already thought about that.
“I’m sorry, I’m going to kick Fenrys’ ass—”
“It’s not his fault either,” she interrupted and I notice tears lining her eyes. She holds up her hands, encompassing the room. “This is the kind of life you guys usually live. The drinking and drugs and women. How was he supposed to know tonight would be anything different?”
I follow her gaze, taking in the debauchery that’s taking place in our home. This isn’t a rented condo or a hotel suite. This is the home I share with my wife and our oddly small cat. The home we plan to spend our future in, yet there’s a group of girls doing body shots on the kitchen counter and our living room furniture has been shoved to the far walls to make room for a makeshift dance floor.
Turning to face her, I say, “Elide, I—”
She’s gone, both she and Aelin.
Aelin is pissed at me, I can tell. Elide was right, this is how parties I throw have always gone. The more booze, the more weed and coke and pills, the more women, the better.
I look around the room, but can’t find them anywhere. I do good on my promise to Elide, promising to find Anni and carry her up to our room. I half hope she’s locked herself inside, so I can talk to her alone for a second, but she hasn’t. I make sure the cat is good and then make my way back downstairs.
After one more pass on the main floor with no luck finding Elide, I go back outside to find Rowan.
She was right about one thing. This used to be my life, I wanted to stay drunk, high, blissed out, or balls deep in someone so I couldn’t feel anything, so I could give myself the illusion of being happy. But it’s not the life I want anymore. I don’t want to do any of that shit like I used to.
Because being with Elide? I don’t have to lie to myself or get fucked up. With her, I’m happy. I’m happy whether we’re kissing or fighting, talking or yelling at each other.
And she needs to know that.
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swankii-art-teacher · 2 years ago
Text
Progress... love Elide dropping her dress for Lorcan and his reply of F*ck was priceless... progress in the right direction.
'Til Death Do Us Part {Chapter Nine}
Elorcan. Rockstar Modern AU.
@snelbz x @theladyofdeath collab
‘Til Death Do Us Part Masterlist
Tumblr media
Elide - 
Our suite in the hotel is by far the nicest hotel room I’ve ever stayed in. It’s beautiful, candles and rose petals everywhere. There’s a bottle of champagne in a bucket on the bar and chocolate truffles on the table. As the door closes behind me, it’s obvious that this room was prepared in the hopes of one thing.
Sex.
A trail of white rose petals lead into the adjoining bedroom and are arranged in the shape of a heart on the king-size bed. And, of course, there’s a heart-shaped tub in the corner of the bedroom. Wouldn’t be a honeymoon suite without it, I guess.
As he drapes his jacket over the back of the couch and begins to unbutton his shirt, my anxiety goes on high alert. I can’t sleep with him yet. I’m not ready. My brain is warped from the day, my heart is heavy and confused, my nerves are fried, and my body is exhausted. Did I even get to eat at some point today? I honestly can’t remember.
I try not to stare as he rolls his shirtsleeves up and continues unbuttoning the front of his shirt, exposing his chest and abs. I was right, they’re completely covered in tattoos, just like his arms. And although he's definitely good-looking in his own way, he's just not my type at all. I've never been attracted to men with long hair or tattoos and facial piercings. As far as men go, I've always been drawn to men with short hair, thin, athletic builds, and stable careers.
Lorcan Salvaterre is
none of those things. His muscles mesmerize me, just as much as they did the first time I saw him, only now they’re on display even more than they were then.
I guess I've always wanted the opposite of my uncle.
Once again, I find myself wondering if the team somehow made a mistake, and matched me up with the wrong guy. It’s the only thing that makes sense, because he’s the complete opposite of everything I said I wanted on the forms they had me fill out.
I sink into a chair, reaching down to remove my shoes as he approaches, of course, the bar. I didn’t see it at first, but I notice it right as he picks up the small envelope propped on a wine glass.
“It’s got both of our names on it,” Lorcan says, holding it up as he turns to face me. “Want me to read it?”
“Sure.”
Opening the card, he clears his throat and reads off what it says. “Dear Lorcan and Elide, congratulations on your wedding day! This is the first step in what we hope is your happily ever after.” He pauses and I can see him chewing the inside of his cheek in agitation. With a sigh, he keeps going. “You have the option of leaving for your honeymoon tomorrow to spend two weeks at an all-inclusive romantic resort, or, if you feel you need more time to get to know each other, you can choose to postpone your honeymoon up to two months. If you choose to postpone, the next step is moving in together. Please don’t hesitate to contact us if you need any advice, and remember to keep up with your journals and video chats. Also, please refer to the study guidelines if you have any questions. Most of all, have fun and open your hearts to love.”
Dropping the card back onto the bar, he turns towards me. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a vacation.”
A romantic resort. Nuhuh. Not yet.
“I’d like to wait, if that’s okay with you.”
He looks at me for a moment before nodding. “Of course.” I sense slight disappointment in his voice, but he doesn’t mention it. Instead he pushes his shirt down his arms and tosses it aside before unbuckling his belt.
“What’re you doing?” I blurt.
His eyes snap up to mine as he freezes. His hands drop to his sides. “I was just going to change. I hate these stiff-ass clothes.”
That’s something I’ve noticed about him so far. He seems to add “ass” onto the end of everything. 
I suddenly feel foolish. “Sorry, I just
thought you wanted to
” My words trail off and his brows raise. I explain, “I’m not ready to sleep together.” The words feel ridiculous coming out of my mouth, even if it’s the truth.
He doesn’t judge me, though. He simply nods. “I’ve collected that.” He laughs, softly. “It’s alright. I’ll just
change in the bathroom. The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable.” 
“I’m not uncomfortable.” The second the words come out of my mouth he grins and I hate him for it. It’s cocky. Cocky, and hot as hell, but I don’t let him know that. “I’ve seen a man’s stomach before. I’m not that pitiful.” 
“I don’t think you’re pitiful.” He unzips the bag at the foot of the bed and pulls out a pair of sweatpants. “Try to relax, alright? I promise not to do anything you’re not ready to do. You look like you’re about to puke and that doesn’t sit well with me. You don’t have to be scared of me, Elide.”
I know I don’t, I trust in Aelin and Aelin knows Lorcan, so I know that I’m safe. 
“I’m sorry this is just
so crazy,” I finish, knowing it’s pathetic but I have too many emotions to sort. 
He nods and sits at the foot of the bed, head cocking to the side. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel more comfortable?”
Put a shirt on? Your god-like muscles are distracting. My eyes can’t help but linger as the thought crosses my mind.
“I’m not scared of you,” I finally say, and add, “and like I said, I’m not uncomfortable. I’m just
trying to figure out how our lives will mesh together.”
“That’s for future Lorcan and Elide to figure out, not us. We’re supposed to relax and enjoy our wedding night,” he says, leaning back on his hands. “As great as it would be to leave tomorrow, I’m okay with not flying for hours and hours.”
“I’ve never been on a plane,” I admit, playing with my wedding band. It’s strange having a ring on that finger.
“Really?” He asks, cocking his head again. “That’ll change. You and Aelin will have to fly out and see us when we’re on tour.”
I swallow hard as my stomach sinks. "How often do you tour?"
I don’t know exactly how often Rowan is gone, but I know it hasn’t been as much in the past six months 
“Depends. We don't tour a lot like most bands do, only like two or three times a year, sometimes more, and usually not longer than a few weeks at a time.” He shrugs. “We’ve done the on the road for months thing. We got that out of our systems when we were twenty.”
"So what happens during the tour? Where do we stay if I went? And what happens to me if I stay home?"
“If you go, then we’ll stay wherever. On the bus, in hotels. It all depends on what we have lined up. If you don't go, you’ll stay home,  wherever we end up living."
That sounds awful to me, living on the road. Exactly what I didn't want, not having a solid home. Did they not even reference our applications? What was the point for filling it all out?
"That's not really what I wanted. I like to be home, and I don't like being alone all the time. I was hoping for normalcy and stability." My voice cracks as I realize all the reasons I wanted to get married are slowly disappearing right in front of.
Lorcan gets up from the bed and pauses in front of me. crouching down so he’s eye level with me, he says, “You'll have it. Just different than you expected." He meets my eyes for a moment and his soften just a bit. "Hey, we don't have to talk about all this right now. It's been a long day; we're both tired and a little bit stressed over this whole thing. Let's just get some rest, and tomorrow, we'll figure out where we're going to live and everything else after that.”
I hesitate. “What is everything else?”
He stands back up, giving me a front row seat to his muscular, tattooed stomach. “I guess we'll find out tomorrow.”
I smile weakly. “Thank you. This is just harder than I was expecting, I guess.”
“Agreed. I'm gonna take a quick shower.” He says, sitting on the couch across from me, reaching down and untying—
“Have you been wearing boots with your tux all day?” I ask, blinking down at the black boots he’s discarded on the floor.
He looks from them to me. “Yeah. It’s all I wear unless I’m working out. Then I wear tennis shoes.”
I blink. “You wore boots on our wedding day?” I don’t know why this is so wild to me, it’s the least surprising thing that’s happened today, but I’m hung up on it. I should’ve worn Vans, rather than the sparkly heels Aelin picked out for me.
“I wear boots every day.” He looks at me like my shock is funny to him. “Our wedding day is no exception.”
I watch him rifle through the duffel bag that the hotel brought up while we were at the reception before disappearing into the bathroom.
My own bag is sitting next to his, but I’ll get what I need out of it in a minute. I don’t want to move yet.
Letting out a deep breath, I close my eyes for a few moments and try to calm myself. It’ll be okay. They put us together. They know what they're doing. Right now I can't fathom what we have in common—aside from our love of eighties movies—but the experts must have seen something in him that I can't see yet.
Standing to get undressed, I realize I can't get my wedding gown off.
Shit.
There are way too many tiny buttons I can't reach, and with the fitted bodice, there is no way I'm going to get it up and over my head. I knew I should never have let Aelin talk me into this dress.
With a sigh, I fall back into the chair and close my eyes.
I don’t hear the door open, but suddenly, Lorcan is standing over me. “Why are you still sitting there, wearing your dress?”
I look up at him and, good gods, how is this man real? It takes an enormous amount of willpower to keep my eyes on his face.
He’s wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants, his long hair damp and loose. There are still little drops of water begging me to follow their path as they trailed down his muscular body.
Despite the hair, piercing, and tattoos, just seeing his half-naked body and the way his muscles flex with each movement has my insides quivering in a way I wasn’t expecting. I can’t even imagine ever touching a body like that or having someone like him be interested or attracted to me in any way, in any realm of reality.
Tearing my eyes away from the muscular V that disappears into the waistband of his pants, I admit that I can't get the dress off by myself.
He gestures for me to stand and I lift my brows. “I’ll help,” he says, when it’s clear I’m not moving.
Considering there’s no other way I’m getting this thing off, I stand and turn my back to him. He’s surprisingly gentle as he undoes the delicate buttons. 
“I knew I’d get you out of your dress on our wedding night,” he says, and I know he’s teasing. If I turned, I’m sure I’d see that light glinting in his eyes, just as it was when we were dancing. “Although I imagined using a lot more teeth and being closer to the bed when it happened. Not that I need a bed. I could—”
“Are you always so vulgar?” I ask, keeping my tone light even though my heart is about to burst through my chest. I blame it on nerves.
He laughs, quietly. “This isn’t even close to me being vulgar. You haven’t heard me being vulgar.”
“I feel this is a good time to remind you that I’m not ready to have sex.” I’m not sure if I’m reminding him or myself as his fingers graze my skin. It’s been a long, long time since I’ve let someone take care of me and it’s starting to show.
“You married me, baby, that’s about as ready as we can get,” he says, that playful tone remaining in his voice.
I ignore what my stomach does when he calls me baby. 
When my dress is loose enough for me to shimmy out of, I step out of his reach, holding the front of my dress up against my body. When I turn, his hands are still out where he was ubuttoning the back and he’s watching me. 
“What’s wrong?” He asks, stepping forward. He grips some of the loose fabric and tugs on it, making me concede a step. “I’m not trying to make a move on you or anything, I just want to see you. Stop hiding from me.”
“No.”
His eyebrows raise. “No?”
“No.” There’s a bite to my voice and I think he likes riling me up.
His eyes flick down to where the dress hangs loosely at my chest. Only my hands keep it up. “Do you have anything on underneath that gown?”
My cheeks heat. “Of course, I do.”
“Then it’s not like I’m about to see you naked. Why are you hiding? Let me see you.”
Proving once again that I am the epitome of grace, I start to back up, shaking my head, but end up stepping on the hem of my dress. I manage to hold onto it with one hand, while the other pinwheels to keep my balance, but it’s no use. Closing my eyes, I’ve accepted that I’m likely about to crack the back of my head on one of the side tables, but then a strong arm wraps around me, catching me before I can bust my ass.
Lorcan sets me back on my feet, whistling low.
At first I don’t understand, but then I realize the dress has slipped, just a bit. Everything is still covered, but you can very much see the skimpy, white lace of my bra. It doesn’t take much deductive reasoning to figure out that I’m likely wearing the matching panties. Which I am.
His dark eyes are on my body, as if he can see said panties through the dress I’m still clinging to. “You’re wearing lingerie?”
I nod, figuring it doesn’t need an explanation. I clearly am. What he doesn’t see is the garter belt and thigh highs I’ve had on all night. They were Aelin’s idea. All of this was Aelin’s idea. I’ve never worn lingerie like this, and in all reality, I feel silly wearing them. I feel like a little girl, playing dress up.
“So you’ll wear sexy bridal lingerie, but you won’t have sex with me, or even let me see it?” His eyes are narrowed and the playful tone his voice had a few minutes is gone. “Why the hell did you wear this stuff if you don’t want me touching you?”
“Because I didn’t know who to expect when I walked down the aisle,” I snap, and feel guilty for my outburst when he looks like I just slapped him in the face. There’s a couple of feet between us now and it’s still difficult for my eyes to remain on his but I force them to. “Look—”
“You’re not sexually attracted to me,” he says, and I watch as he sorts out the words I spat at him. He rubs his jaw and I don’t know if he’s about to laugh or yell. He does neither. “I just married a woman who doesn’t want to have sex with me, not because she doesn’t want to have sex
but because she doesn’t want to have sex with me.”
It wasn’t how he imagined his wedding night. I know that. I get that. I understand that. I try a different approach as I tell him the truth. “You just aren’t exactly my type.”
If I expect my gentle approach to make a difference, I’m disappointed. He looks even more hurt at my bluntness. 
My dumb ass continues speaking even though it’s clear I should shut up. “I just prefer guys that are clean cut.”
He looks down at himself as if he’s assessing his tattoos, his piercings, that hair that’s a mess. He looks back up at me and his voice is low as he says, “Sorry to disappoint.”
I sigh. “It’s not—”
“You’re not who I asked for either,” he says, with that same intensity. “I asked for a hot blonde with big tits, not some chick that’s half my size and looks like I’ll break her in half if I so much as fucking touch her.” 
My back straightens and I feel a stinging in my eyes that I will away. “You’re an asshole.”
“I’m the asshole?” He laughs. “My own wife—”
“I’m allowed to say no to you, husband or not,” I hiss.
This time he truly looks taken aback, as if the thought of anything happening without consent makes him sick to his stomach. “You don’t fucking know me. I know you don’t want to have sex. I would never ignore what you fucking want. I was just trying to lighten the mood on our fucking wedding night. This whole damn situation is too fucking awkward already and now we have to share a fucking room, so I’m sorry that I was looking for some sort of marital normalcy. But, don’t you dare accuse me of not understanding the word no. I wouldn’t have laid a fucking hand on you.”
He mutters something about this being confusing and stupid as he turns his back to me and before I can think of anything to say he’s walking out of the suite.
Just as he’s about to the door, he turns and says, “Let me get this straight. You don’t want to travel, you hate long hair, tattoos, and piercings, you’re short, you hate my music, and you aren’t attracted to me? Did I miss anything?”
“Pretty much,” I reply, voice quite. “Actually, I don’t hate your music, I just don’t
understand it.”
Of all the things from that list I could have corrected him on, I doubt his music is the one he wanted.
Scoffing, Lorcan comes back into the living room and drops down on the couch. “What the hell was the point of all the forms and questionnaires we filled out? I asked for a hot, tall, sexy as fuck blond with big tits, who would come on tour with me.” He looks at me. “Instead, I get a dwarf who can barely look me in the eye, doesn't want me to touch her, and won't get on a plane.”
I blink back tears and set my jaw. I won’t let him see my cry. “Yeah, and I asked for a clean-cut, good-looking, sweet, intelligent, hard-working family man. Instead, I got rockstar Tarzan.”
I swear, despite his anger, the corners of his mouth twitch up. The hint of a smile is gone as quickly as it’s there. “We got fucked. Hard.”
“Do you think they made a mistake?” I suggest hopefully. “Maybe put us with the wrong partner? There are other couples in the project.”
He thinks about this for a few moments while chewing his lip. “I don’t know. Both our names are on that card. It would be hard to confuse us with other people, neither of us have very common names.”
He’s right. It’d be hard not to notice. My head suddenly feels like it weighs about a thousand pounds, on top of the stupid dress I’m still clinging to. I sit down next him on the couch. “I don’t understand this. What were they thinking when they put us together?”
It’s quiet for a long moment before he sighs, letting his head fall back against the couch, and looks over at me. “I have no fucking idea. But I do know one thing.”
I hesitate. “What?”
He takes my hands, brushing a thumb over the wedding band he slid onto my finger only a few hours ago. It’s still so strange to see it there. “I didn't answer a thousand questions about what I wanted in a wife to just give up the first night.”
My hand tightens in his. “I didn’t either.”
“For better or worse, right?” He smiles, and even though it’s tense, I can tell it’s real. “I’m sorry I’m an asshole. It’s one of my more pronounced traits and I’ll work on it. You didn’t deserve anything I just threw at you.”
I swallow thickly. “I’m sorry, too. I haven’t reacted well to
any of this.”
“Neither have I, but from now on, if I’m being an asshole, you have my express permission to hand me my ass, okay? It’s your duty as my wife.”
I giggle. Actually giggle. “I think I can do that.”
“Good.” He brings my hand to his lips and kisses my ring. I don’t think I’m breathing. If he notices, he doesn't say anything. “So
here's what we're gonna do. You're gonna sleep in the bed, I'm gonna sleep on this couch, and we're gonna get some rest. In the morning, we're gonna get room service and order every fucking item on the breakfast menu, and then figure out where we're going to live. We'll start over and forget about long hair, tits, and tattoos. Sound good?”
I mean it when I nod and say, “Sounds good.”
We sit there for a moment, holding hands like awkward teenagers on a first date, then I slowly get to my feet. He watches me and there’s something in his eyes that I can't place, but I like.
It isn’t that he’s not attractive. He is, brutally so, he’s just not the kind of attractive I’d ever imagined going for. I can’t deny that I haven’t been watching the steady flex of his muscles all night, though. 
I wasn’t kidding. The guy looks like fucking Tarzan. I wonder how Jane felt about the whole long hair business. A haircut wouldn’t kill Lorcan, surely.
“I’m going to change,” I say, and he nods as I gather my dress against my body. I head towards the gigantic bathroom on the opposite end of the room before clearing my throat. I look over my shoulder to find him still watching me and I let my dress fall to the floor.
His brows shoot up as those eyes graze my body, taking in every inch of that sexy lingerie. With him looking at me like that, I don’t feel as stupid as I had in the scandalous ensemble before. I step inside of the bathroom and turn to face him as I give him a small smile and say, “Never say I didn’t give you anything on our wedding night.”
With that, I close the door, leaving him staring after me on the couch with his brows high and his lips parted. 
On the other side of the door, I hear him mutter, “Fuck.”
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swankii-art-teacher · 2 years ago
Text
Awkward... Lorcan seems to be accommodating while Elide appears to be shell-shocked and panicking. Looking forward to how they get to know each other.
'Til Death Do Us Part {Chapter Seven}
Elorcan. Rockstar Modern AU.
@snelbz x @theladyofdeath collab
‘Til Death Do Us Part Masterlist
Tumblr media
A/N: The moment you've all been waiting for. THE REVEAL.
Elide -
“I literally think I might pass out.”
Aelin sits in the chair I just finished getting my hair and makeup done in, a glass of champagne in her hand, watching me pace. The dark green dress she picked out as her maid-of-honor dress is absolutely stunning. “You’re going to be fine.”
My words come out much harsher than I intend for them to. “Says the woman who knows the person she’s in a relationship with and won’t be leaving with a husband that’s a stranger.”
She knows I’m not trying to be a bitch, but I’m about one stressful thought away from a full on panic attack.
In less than an hour, I’ll be married. I don’t know his name. I don’t know what he looks like, what he does for a living. I don’t know how old he is. All I know is that he’s supposedly perfect for me.
I pause my pacing in front of the full length mirror the hotel provided in the room they gave Aelin and I to get ready in.
The dress I’d chosen had little in the way of ornamentation, made entirely of beautifully detailed lace. I already have a few ideas for what to do with the lace after the wedding. It’s too pretty to sit in a box and turn yellow. It’s tight, hugging every curve and dip on the way down my body, until it flares out at my thighs. The tiny sleeves, hanging off my shoulders, made of the same lace, are dainty and feminine. The train is out, since I’ll be walking down the aisle very soon, and I turn to look at the long line of buttons trailing down my entire back. It had taken Aelin almost ten minutes to get it completely buttoned. The second I’d seen the dress, I’d known it was the one. I tried on a few more, at the behest of Aelin and the girl who was helping us, but I kept coming back to that dress. It wasn’t until right now that I wondered if it was too much.
“As a woman, I know you’re not supposed to tell a woman this, but you need to calm down,” Aelin says, then offers me her glass. “Drink? Smoke? Xanax? All of the above?”
I laugh but that panic is still there in full force. I groan, face falling into my hands. “What am I doing here?”
Aelin’s eyes soften as she sets down her glass and rises to her feet to take my hands. “You’re here to meet the love of your life.”
“And if he’s the opposite of that?” I protest because it’s all I can think about. It’s a much more probable outcome, this being a mistake.
“Then you put yourself out there and you tried,” she says, hands clinging to mine. “I know this is stressful. I know you’re anxious, but this moment is going to change your life. No matter what happens, this moment is a turning point. This moment will advance you and help you grow and help you determine what you want out of life. You’re so brave, so courageous, going on this adventure. And I’m proud of you, which is why I’m going to be here for you every step of the way.” She turns me toward the mirror. “I have never seen a more beautiful bride.”
I take a deep breath. “Thank you. I love you. This is honestly all because of you.”
She smirks. “I know, you’re welcome. I love you, too.”
Laughing at her, I shake my head, because what else can I do? She succeeded in making me not stress for thirty seconds, which was her goal.
“Sure you don’t want that Xanax?” She asks, studying my face.
Turning away from the mirror, I head for the last piece that I need to be ready: my veil. After retrieving it from my dress bag where I’d carefully hung it, I sit in the chair in front of the mirror and hand it to Aelin. She tucks the comb beneath a braid, exactly where the stylist had shown her and fans it out behind me. Standing, I return to the full length mirror, taking in the full picture.
I look like a bride.
“I can tell you one thing about your husband,” Aelin smiles, standing next to me. “He’s a lucky man.”
My eyes line with tears, but before I can say anything, there’s a knock at the door. Hasar peeks her head in. “Just a few minutes until we’re gonna start. You okay?”
My heart lodges in my throat and suddenly I’ve lost the ability to speak, so I nod. Hasar gives me a sympathetic smile, so I must look as freaked as I feel, and then looks to Aelin. “I’ll give you guys a couple more minutes together, but then we’re gonna give the bride a few minutes alone before we start.”
I’m already shaking my head no, don’t take my best friend, when Aelin takes my hand and squeezes. “Sounds good, Hasar. Give me just a second and I’ll be out.”
She nods and then turns back to me. “Elide, you look beautiful. That dress is stunning. We’re so happy you two are finally getting married. You’re our last couple and we can’t wait for you to start your life together.”
With that and another smile, she’s gone, the door clicking shut behind her.
Aelin turns me so I’m facing her and takes my hands in hers. “I want you to remember that everything happens for a reason, okay? The team has done their research and they matched everyone up with exactly who they were supposed to.”
I blink at her. Of course I’m aware of this, I’ve spent the last six months going through rigorous questioning, interviews, and digging far deeper into my personal history than I was expecting. I trust them to make the best decisions. I squeeze her hand, giving her the best, most calm smile I can. “I know.”
She laughs softly, so I know it can’t be too convincing. I need to work on that before I meet my husband at the altar.
My husband. Oh, gods, this is happening.
She kisses my cheek then she’s out the door, leaving me alone although I’m the last person that should be left alone.
I think of my about-to-be-husband. Is he panicking right now? Or, is he perfectly calm? Gods, what if he’s drunk? I wish I was drunk. I already feel like I’m about to vomit, I may as well have a stomach full of alcohol that’s the cause.
But no, the cause is my impending marriage that I still can’t believe I’ve signed on to. 
I don’t want to wait.
I just want to get out there and get it on with. I open the door to find Aelin standing there alongside Gavriel. I only met him an hour ago but he’ll be the one walking me down the aisle considering I don’t have anyone else. I wondered why Rowan didn’t want to be the one to walk me, but I didn’t ask. It’s not that Rowan and I are all that close but at least I know him better than this guy.
Gavriel.
Although, he does seem to be a nice guy. From Aelin’s description, he’s in The Cadre and is the most mature out of any of them. She described him as father-like, which I wasn’t sure what to make of, but apparently it made him the winning candidate of who would walk me down the aisle.
“Ready?“ Aelin asks me and I’m about to shove everyone out of the way and storm to the altar, but I don’t. Instead I nod and that nausea rolls in my stomach.
Gavriel looks down at me with an encouraging smile and holds out his arm. “You look beautiful.”
I try to smile back but fail. “Thank you.”
Next thing I know, someone has handed me a bouquet and Aelin, holding a smaller version of my bouquet, is standing before the closed doors that will lead into the ballroom that will hold both the ceremony and reception. She looks back at me and gives me a wink just as the music starts, her cue to start down the aisle. The doors open from the inside and she gives me one last look before she’s gone.
Holy shit, this is happening.
I’m getting married to a stranger. A complete and total stranger. I know they said they vetted all the crazies out, but what if my future husband managed to pass all the tests and still has plans to murder me?
My eyes dart around the hall, finding an exit sign above the door at the far end.
There. There’s my escape if I need it.
My arm must tighten in Gavriel’s because his free hand covers mine. “Hey, take a deep breath, you’re fine.”
I do just that, trying to relax. “Sorry, this just
isn’t how I imagined my wedding day.”
His already somber tone deepens. “I get that, but you both know what you signed up for when you decided to do this study, right? So you’re in this together?”
I hadn’t thought of it like that. “I guess you’re right.”
He smiles, and there’s sadness there I wasn’t expecting. The music swells and his hand releases mine. “It’s time.”
Taking a deep breath, I nod. “It’s time.”
We step into the open doorway and as if I can’t control my body, my gaze snaps to my shoes. I should be taking everything in, looking at my surroundings, looking at my husband at the end of the aisle, but my body is in full revolt from my brain. It’s only when I notice people to my right that I’m able to look up.
My soon-to-be husband’s guests and his family. They look
nothing like I was imagining. Which was normal wedding guests. There are people wearing leather and denim and everywhere I look is tattooed skin and long hair.
I’m sorry, did I just walk into my wedding or a concert?
My eyes snap to my side of the aisle and

It’s all but empty, which was to be expected, but I at least expected to see more than who is seated there.
Aedion and Lysandra are up front, as well as the people running the program and
that’s it.
Where is Rowan? And the rest of The Cadre, if Gavriel is here, walking at my side? Shouldn’t they be sitting on my side?
When Aelin told me they were coming, I thought it was strange, but shrugged it off. I had no one else that I’d wanted to invite, so I said the more the merrier and let her handle it.
Had they decided to sit on the other side because they were embarrassed? Gods, I might die—
Somehow, because this is simultaneously the longest and shortest walk of my life, we’re only about halfway up the aisle as I process all of this information. And yet I still haven’t been able to force my eyes forward.
As if he knows what I’m struggling with, Gavriel gives my side an encouraging nudge.
I let out the breath I’m holding and look forward. My eyes dart around, trying to see everything at once. I acknowledge Aelin standing off to the left, right beside where I’ll be standing in a matter of seconds. And as my eyes are crossing the aisle to finally focus on my husband, they get caught on a shock of silver hair and green eyes so vivid I can see them from here.
Rowan.
Rowan is
standing at the altar.
What the hell is he doing up there? Are he and Aelin getting married after us, taking advantage of the officiant while he’s here? I wouldn’t blame them, but I feel like she would have told me if that was the case.
As my brain is rambling on and on, it’s taking longer to catch up to what my eyes are seeing. Because I swear, I see Lorcan standing up there, next to Rowan.
I’d been thinking about Rowan's band mate nonstop since we’d been informally introduced a couple months ago. The way his heated gaze had dragged over my body had kept me up far too many nights than I cared to admit. So my brain has to be projecting for me.
I blink, ready to look past the illusion, and actually see my husband.
Lorcan Salvaterre remains.
I stumble but Gavriel’s hold on me remains firm and he walks me forward.
Reality dawns on me.
Lorcan Salvaterre is the man I’m marrying. He will be my husband. He was chosen as my perfect mate.
It’s not processing. 
I look at Aelin for some sort of clarity and I swear she cringes. Holding up one of her hands, the other still clinging to her bouquet, and giving me spirit fingers, she whispers, “Surprise.”
I’ve made it to the altar now and cannot even begin to attempt to give Aelin any sort of reply. The music stops and it’s then that I realize that Gavriel has taken a seat and I’m left standing in front of my husband.
The rockstar.
The infamous Lorcan Salvaterre.
Yes, I googled him after that first informal meeting of ours and gods, the internet had a lot to say. 
I meet his eyes now as if im seeing him for the first time since I entered the room.
He wears a black tux that’s fitted to his massive frame, both his shirt and tie beneath black, too. His shoulder length hair is pulled back and it seems that he shaved for the occasion. His nose ring remains and the tattoo on his neck is visibly sticking out of his collar.
But his eyes are warm and searching my face. 
His lips are parted and his breaths are coming out in ragged pants.
I look again to Aelin.
She’s smiling at me hesitantly.
Good. She should be worried. After I say I do, I’m throttling her.
There is no feasible way that she didn’t know Lorcan was in the program. And there’s no way she hadn’t figured out within at least the last couple weeks that I would be marrying Lorcan. Rowan had to have known, and he would have told Aelin, because she’d obviously be his plus one.
Did she encourage him to apply to? Was this all intentional?
He at least looks
genuinely surprised to see me. Whether Aelin knew or not, it’s clear that Lorcan was just as in the dark as I was on this.
My mind is reeling, trying to process everything, and I don’t realize that I’m speaking, that I’m repeating vows, until I’m taking his massive hand in mine, sliding the platinum band he’d chosen onto his finger. I noticed the tattoo design on the top of his hand as I do so, a pocket watch with dark roses around it. I look down and there’s a matching, smaller band on my own hand. When the hell did that get there?
“You may kiss the bride.”
Wait, what? Did I say I do?
I don’t have time to run back through what I repeated in my head, because Lorcan’s still got my hand in his and he’s leaning towards me.
Oh, gods, he’s going to kiss me.
Just before his lips meet mine, I turn my head and he kisses my cheek. The guests all cheer and laugh.
“Kiss him!” Aelin hisses from behind me, but I can’t.
I’m frozen and after another awkward beat of hesitation, my new husband tugs me forward and down the aisle. He receives cheers and slaps on the back and I get
tight lipped smiles from the romance team. At least Dr. Towers actually looks happy for us.
We’re met at the door by Hasar, who leads us back to the suite of rooms where Aelin and I got ready.
“Congratulations, you two! Alright, now I know you’re feeling excited and nervous and about a thousand other emotions, but rest assured, that’s absolutely fine.” She smiles at us. “The rest of the guests are going to step out for drinks and appetizers while they flip the room for your reception. You two will have about half an hour alone in here to get to know each other a little, and then the photographer will come here to get you. They’ll take some pictures and then you'll join everyone in the reception hall for dinner." She clasps her hands together. "You guys make the best couple. I'm so excited for you!”
“Thanks, babe.” Lorcan’s voice rumbles out and I blink.
Did he just call her babe?
I step away from Lorcan, forcing him to drop my hand at last. “Can you get Aelin for me?”
Hasar shakes her head. “No, I’m so sorry, Elide. Dr. Towers insists the bride and groom be alone for this time. You'll be able to talk to her soon, though. I'll go out and tell her that you want to see her as soon as you're able."
Hasar leaves and I stare at the door as it slowly snicks shut.
After a moment, Lorcan clears his throat. I turn to find him standing behind him, his hands shoved into his pockets. He has a humored look on his face as he studies me. “Want a drink?”
I want to say no, but I also want to say yes, but I say nothing. I continue to stare at him, dumbfounded.
Married.
I am married.
We are married. 
I am married to a fucking rockstar who is the embodiment of what I told Dr. Towers and her team that I did not want. I recall asking for a clean-cut man with a regular nine to five job. Not this guy, standing there taking a shot of whiskey like its water.
And then another.
He hands me a glass.
I take it to calm the shaking of my hands, the pounding in my chest. I’m married. I just said my vows and said I do and now I’m in this, there’s no going back. 
“You look disappointed,” he says, and there’s no judgment in it, although I can’t quite place the look in his eyes. 
“Surprised,” I correct, although I’m trying to spare his feelings because the truth is that I am disappointed. This is not what I wanted. He is not what I wanted. He’s the polar opposite. 
With my drink that I’ve yet to sip from, I sit on the couch and watch him as he slips off his jacket and hangs it on the back of a chair. He rolls up his sleeves and gods he’s covered in tattoos. I would be surprised if there was an inch of skin that wasn’t covered, aside from his face that has yet to be inked. 
“You look beautiful,” he says, and it almost doesn’t register that he’s talking to me but of course he is. I am his wife, after all
even if he did just call another woman babe in front of me not even five minutes ago.
I’m sure he calls a lot of women babe. 
This guy doesn’t even seem like the type who would want a wife
or have any trouble finding one if he did. Surely, he could announce his intentions to marry and have a flock of women on his doorstep in a heartbeat. Then, it occurs to me. This has to be some kind of PR stunt. The thought has anger and embarrassment coursing through my body. 
I’m going to demand to talk to Dr. Towers. Maybe even get a lawyer and sue for distress. I endured detailed interviews, questionnaires, meetings with psychologists and sex therapists for almost half a year for this. Months of my life— just gone. And now I’m legally married to someone who probably did this for publicity and not to find a life partner. 
I have to force myself not to cry. “Thanks.”
He is handsome, despite looking like he rolled around on an inkpad. The way he’s watching me, though

I stand to my feet and drink from my glass, welcoming the burn it brings as the liquid courses down my throat. “You’re
famous.”
He smirks as he refills his shot glass. “Very astute of you.”
He tosses the shot back like it’s nothing. I’ve had one sip to his three shots. I mentioned to the team that I didn’t want to be married to someone with a substance abuse problem. Granted, I feel like that’s something that shouldn’t have been mentioned, but here we are.
I shake my head, not understanding. “Why would you want to do this?” 
He pours another shot and I genuinely can’t believe he’s about to take his fourth in a matter of minutes. “Why?” Down goes the shot and then he pulls a lighter from his pocket, lighting a cigarette dangling between his lips. I’m pretty sure this isn’t a smoking room. Hell, I don’t think this fancy hotel has smoking rooms. He takes a drag and blows the smoke to the side so it wouldn’t settle in my face. How sweet of him. “Truthfully? I wanted to be with someone who wasn’t just interested in me for my name, my money, or my dick.”
His crass answer catches me off guard and my brain shorts out for a minute. It’s the only reason I can think that I say, “I don’t like being around someone who has a drinking problem. I put that on my questionnaire.”
Taking another hit off his cigarette, his eyebrows raise. “There’s a glass in your hand, too, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart. I’m seeing red.
Crossing to the sink set into the bar, I dump it down the drain. “I had one drink. You had four shots.”
His own displeasure is settling into his features. “Okay, I’ll cut back on the drinking. Anything else you put on the questionnaire that they ignored?” My eyes shoot to the cigarette before going back to his face, but he catches my wordless answer. “Of course.” Turning, he stubs out his cigarette in the bottom of one of his used shot glasses. “Better?”
No, I think to myself as I look at the man that’s now my husband. It’s not.
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swankii-art-teacher · 2 years ago
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Too many sucky self absorbed men running around out there. Think Elide dodged a bullet on this one and leaves herself free to explore Lorcan when, hazarding an educated guess, Aelin sets them up...
'Til Death Do Us Part {Chapter Two}
Elorcan. Modern AU.
@snelbz x @theladyofdeath collab.
‘Til Death Do Us Part Masterlist
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Elide
—
I stand outside of the restaurant wishing I had brought a jacket. During the day, summers in Orynth are absolute perfection, the sun always shining and the temperature in the seventies, near perfection. At night, cool air drifts from the mountains and a cool breeze takes away what’s left of the warmth. It would not be so bad if my date had been here when I arrived, but there’s been no sign of him. I check my phone. I’ve already been here for almost thirty minutes.
I hate blind dates. The thought has terrified me in the past but I’m at a point in my life that I want a partner. I want to find love, as most people do, but the process of finding love is a painful endeavor. 
It has me standing out here in my finest dress freezing my ass off in five inch heels. Every car that passes me has me excited, borderline anxious, but it quickly fades to annoyance as they keep on driving and no one gets out. I check the time again. It has officially been more than half an hour. 
I’m not sure how long to wait before going home, but I’m starving so I decide to wait it out. The thought of chicken marsala and a glass of wine has my mouth watering to the point that I nearly go in without him, but I don’t. I only have so much money on me. Hopefully he offers to pay. If not, I may only be eating ramen until my next paycheck.
Which sounds delicious right now. Gods, I’m starving.
“Elide?”
I turn towards the sound of my name being called, my eyes falling on the hottest guy I’ve ever seen. His blue eyes smolder in the dim lighting of the restaurant behind us and I swear, you could use his jawline as a knife. He did tell me he was a model, and his profile corroborated that information, but I figured he was lying.
With those cheekbones, I know he isn’t.
“Yes, hey.” I smile up at him. At five foot two, almost everyone I meet is taller than me, but this guy is a good bit over six feet. Even in my ridiculous heels, he’s a lot taller than I am. “You must be Roland.”
“Yeah
” Rather than extending his hand to me or anything remotely appropriate to say or do on a first date, he proceeds to take a step back and look me over from head to toe. He doesn’t say a word, he just keeps letting his eyes dance over me.
Another chilled breeze stirs up my hair and I fight off a shiver. The smile is starting to feel more like a grimace, but I say, “If you’re ready, we can go inside.” He’s been studying me for nearly a full minute now, he had to have noticed I’m not wearing a jacket.
Roland bites his lip, a move I’m sure has drenched many a pair of panties, and crosses his arms. “Listen, you’re
not what I was expecting.”
I blink, floored by his response. “Oh
”
Gesturing to himself and then back to me, he explains, “I’ve got an image to uphold and you
don’t fit that.”
I try to keep myself from gaping. “I’m
sorry. I don’t follow.”
His eyes narrow and he looks at me like I’m an idiot. “Don’t make me be the bad guy.”
I jolt, nearly laughing. “What the hell are you talking about?” At this point, I’m freezing my ass off and I’m hangry. I don’t have time for this guy’s games.
“I can’t be seen with you,” he says, simply, shrugging. “You’re just not my type. You looked different in your pictures. Taller. More put together. Sexy.”
Taller? How does someone look tall in selfies? And more put together? “My gods, I—”
“Feel free to use our table. It’s reserved until nine.” He gestures towards the doors, backing up a few more steps. “The lobster is great.”
With that, he’s gone, and I’m left staring after him like a dumbfounded idiot. I’m not his type? I’m too short? I’m not even going to touch the sexy comment, cause he’s sort of right about that. If I wasn’t a damn lady, I’d be running after him, tackling him to the ground, and punching him right in his pretty boy nose.
But, I am a lady, so I grip my clutch a little tighter and walk the opposite way of the asshole, back to my apartment. I could take the bus, but I’m already so cold that I don’t want to wait at the bus stop. It’s only a few blocks and the walking should help warm me up.
The walk and the newfound anger brewing deep inside my gut.
Not his type? I don’t know who that guy thinks he is. I don’t know how he’ll ever find a girl that wants more than a one night stand. What he has in beauty, he lacks in any sort of inner attraction whatsoever. Not his type. Prick. 
Embarrassed and wishing I had never left my house to begin with, I walk as quickly as I can, although my choice of shoes for the evening protest with every step. I wish I had a car, but a car costs money and so does, gas so here I am, reinventing the walk of shame. 
I hope he gets hit by a taxi.
I should feel guilty for that thought.
I don’t.
I don’t live in the best part of town, but my landlord hasn’t increased my rent in three years. It’s probably thanks to the leaking windows, failing air conditioning, and the fact that the plumbing constantly backs up for no reason, but I won’t push my luck. Not when I can’t afford anything else without moving outside of the city.
I jog up the steps to my floor, ready to kick off the stupid heels the second I get inside, but as I stand outside my door, numb fingers fumbling with my keys, the door across from mine opens.
“Miss Elide, I thought you had a date tonight.”
I turn around and give Murtaugh a tired smile. “It didn’t work out.”
“That’s okay,” he replies, leaning on his door frame. “If it didn't work out, he didn’t deserve you anyways.”
You have no clue how right you are. “Thank you, Murtaugh.”
“You really should give my grandson a chance,” he says as I finally get my door unlocked. “He’s very handsome.”
“If he’s half as handsome as you, then I’m already out of my league.” I step inside, immediately ditching the heels by the door. “Goodnight, Murtaugh.”
His kind smile has been one of the only constant things I’ve had in my life for the past few years. “Goodnight, Miss Elide.”
We shut our respective doors and I immediately hear a tiny bell rushing towards me. A ball of black fluff appears from the hallway leading to the lone bedroom and then rushes towards me. Anneith purrs loudly as I add food to her bowl, despite it being almost completely full.
I leave the ridiculous heels by the door, wondering if it’s too late to return them. I know exactly where the receipt is, and they were only worn for my disaster of a date.
I sigh as I grab my phone from my clutch and head towards my bedroom. I’ve got a few soap orders I need to pack up before bed and last time I checked my email, I had three new orders placed, but I’m drained. I’d been looking forward to that date for days. Roland and I had been talking for a few weeks at this point and I really thought we’d hit it off. We had similar beliefs when it came to our futures and families. He knew I didn’t have a conventional “job”, just like he didn’t. We’d stayed up countless nights chatting and I

I don’t know why I’m surprised. I’ve been single for almost three years, since Ress and I broke up. There’s a reason for that, clearly. I just need to accept my future as a cat lady and move on.
Before I start making matching T-shirts for me and Anneith, though, I call my best friend as I enter my room and unzip my dress. She answers on the first ring.
“I should not be hearing from you this soon.” Aelin, as always, is far too perceptive for her own good. “I shouldn’t be hearing from you until tomorrow morning when you call me to tell me how big his dick was.”
She says that as if that’s our normal routine, which it sort of is. Or at least, it used to be. It had been very one-sided while Aelin was dating and I was, by no choice of my own, nearly celibate. Then she met Rowan.
“No dick report tonight,” I sigh, tugging a baggy shirt over my head and a pair of comfy pajama bottoms. “We didn’t even make it into the restaurant and he was almost an hour late.”
Aelin is quiet for a moment before she asks, “And do I want to know why you didn’t even make it into the restaurant?” 
I sigh as I fall back onto my bed and close my eyes. “He took one very long look at me and told me I wasn’t his type. Then he left.”
Aelin is quiet for another minute and I prepare myself for her supportive wrath. “I’m sorry,” she starts, “he did what? Who is this asshole? Where does he live? I will burn his house to the ground and laugh as—”
“It’s fine,” I say, although her manic response has me laughing. “If that’s the way he was gonna be I don’t want to sit through an entire evening with him anyways.” Even if the sex would have been good, which I’m sure it would have been. I miss sex. I miss someone else making me orgasm instead of having to work so damn hard for it myself, but I can’t get with the one night stand program. It’s just not how I’m wired. “I think I’ll just pour a glass of wine and eat what’s left of the ice cream in my freezer.”
Aelin sighs and I know she’s frowning. “Hang tight and I’ll be there in twenty minutes with a full gallon.”
“No,” I say, pulling my blankets up over my head. “I know Rowan just got home. You’ve been missing him like crazy and I have the honor of seeing you all the time. Stay with him.”
“I don’t want you to be alone tonight,” Aelin says, and I have no idea how I found a friend so perfect and wonderful to keep for the entirety of my life. “You deserve to have fun, even if it’s not the fun you intended.”
I laugh and shake my head. “If you come here I’m locking you out. Stay home. I can’t imagine Rowan will like me very much if I take you away once he’s just gotten there.” 
She sighs dramatically, but the sound is full of love, and then a familiar deep voicerumbles over the phone. “Thank you, Elide.”
I laugh, despite how lonely the sound of Aelin’s boyfriend makes me feel. “You’re welcome. Glad you’re home safe and sound.” 
Aelin’s voice is much more clear when she speaks next and I know she’s got the phone pressed between her ear and her shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come over?”
I can tell Aelin is torn between being a good friend and being a good girlfriend, so I make the decision for her. “I’m positive. I’ve got, like, six orders I need to work on to go out tomorrow, so it works out.”
It’s a crappy lie and I’m pretty sure Aelin knows it. Still, she relents. “I’ll come over right after work tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay, now go enjoy yourself.” I rethink the words the second they’re out of my mouth.
“Don’t worry, I will.” I groan and she laughs. “I’m sorry your date sucked, but I promise, I’m going to find you the hottest, most amazing guy ever.”
Aelin had tried playing matchmaker for me before. It always ended horribly.
I’m shaking my head, despite the fact that she can’t see me. “I appreciate it, but you know me, I’m fine on my own.”
And I was. I’d been on my own since I was seventeen. A boyfriend wouldn’t change the fact that I can take care of myself.
I’m just sick of being the only one who does.
“I know,” Aelin says, as if she’s reading my thoughts just like she always has. “I love you. Talk to you tomorrow.”
“Love you,” I say, and hang up as Rowan’s voice echoes in the background and Aelin giggles.
I’m happy that Aelin found someone like Rowan. They’re perfect for one another. I can tell she loves him every time he’s even mentioned. I don’t know how she does it, though, loving someone who is constantly gone. He’s always touring. When he is home it’s for a couple months then he’s gone for the rest of the year, only coming back for a week every now and then. I know he’s loyal to her but that distance
 I don’t think I could do it. 
I wouldn’t want to.
I want a man who will wake up beside me every morning and go to his boring 9-to-5 job right here in Orynth. Not that I need a man. I’ve already established that, that I’m well enough on my own. Especially if the rest of the men in this city are anything like Roland.
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swankii-art-teacher · 2 years ago
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Little bits of personality peaking out... maybe even some compatability as well. The soft moments... dancing, a question for a question, the hug, and that first real kiss are so sweet and show real possibilities for a future.
'Til Death Do Us Part {Chapter Eight}
Elorcan. Rockstar Modern AU.
@snelbz x @theladyofdeath collab
‘Til Death Do Us Part Masterlist
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A/N: Hope y'all didn't think we'd go straight into wedded bliss. After this long, you should know us better than that.
——————
Lorcan - 
I stand by the bar at my own wedding reception wishing I could have a fucking drink. But no, I can’t drink and I can’t smoke and I can’t even talk to my wife because she’s talking with Aelin on the opposite end of the reception hall, just like she has been since we left the room they shoved us into after the ceremony. She keeps pointing in, you guessed it, my direction and gesturing with her arms, and, if I’m being honest, it looks like she’s flailing a bit.
I watch her intently.
She is beautiful, just as gorgeous as I remembered, and when I saw her walking towards me down the aisle I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. Rowan must have known, considering Aelin must have known, and I’m pissed at him for not saying a word to me. Yeah, she’s hot, but also demanding as fuck.
Five minutes into our marriage, she tells me I’m not what she wanted. She told me I can’t drink. She told me I can’t smoke. I’m surprised she hasn’t tried to rip the tattoos off my skin. When I rolled up my sleeves earlier, she was staring at them. I can only imagine the thoughts that ran through her mind.
It hurt.
I won’t lie.
It hurt, having a girl that I haven’t been able to keep off my mind since the day I met her at Rowan and Aelin’s practically flat out tell me that I’m not what she wants.
Yet, we’re married.
For at least six months.
I debate on ordering a drink anyway. I’m already not what she wants, I may as well lean into it like that asshole I am, but I don’t. I push myself off the bar and look for someone to talk to so I don’t look like a miserable sack of shit at my own wedding. 
Before I can take more than three steps, an arm is slung around my shoulder and I’m steered toward the food table.
“You know,” Rowan starts, chuckling, “if anyone ever said you’d be getting married before me, I would have laughed in their face. But here you are, a married man.”
“Lost my virginity first, too,” I remark. “Don’t forget that, Mr. Late Bloomer.”
He shakes his head at that, laughing. “Don’t talk about having sex with someone else at your wedding.” He removes his arm and pops a tiny sandwich into his mouth before washing it down with his beer.
For a split second, I consider stealing it and chugging it, but then I realize my wife is probably watching me. I’ve felt her gaze on me all night, despite the fact that she’s clearly regretting signing up for this stupid fucking study.
I know I am.
I shrug. “That was twelve years ago and who knows where Essar even ended up.”
“It’s still shitty,” Rowan says, adamantly, making it clear this isn’t up for discussion. “Now why are you over here sulking instead of talking to your wife, or dancing with your wife, or doing literally anything else with your wife, aside from pretending she doesn’t exist?”
That actually makes me laugh, but it’s a bitter sound. “She’s the one that wants nothing to do with me. They’ve been in that corner since we came in.”
I gesture over to where our significant others are talking and he follows my gaze, right as Elide says something that makes Aelin hold her hands in a placating gesture.
With a wince, Rowan turns back to me. “She’s just a little overwhelmed. I don’t think she was expecting
someone like you.”
The words make me flinch. I don’t like that. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“Our lives are about as far from normal as they can be, man,” he says, and he’s not wrong. “If she was expecting someone who works Monday through Friday, nine-to-five, marrying the vocalist for a metal band has got to be a bit jarring.”
He’s right. I feel my anger start to deflate, but the pain already inflicted revives it. I shake my head.
“Yeah, but she signed up for it, just like I did. None of us had any idea what we were getting.” I scoff and, bagain, really consider swiping his beer. “I mean what the fuck was the point of having us fill out those questionnaires? I asked for a bleach blonde bikini model, with big tits, and I’m pretty damn sure I’m not what she ordered either.”
Rowan’s jaw locks as he faces me. “Look, I know you’re being a dick right now because your feelings are hurt—” I scoff, he doesn’t even stop, “but Elide is a damn good woman. She deserves a husband that isn’t controlled by his anger and his ego, so don’t ruin this marriage before it even starts because you don’t want to try.”
My mouth snaps shut.
“You just hit the jackpot, Lor,” Rowan goes on. “You won’t find a better woman than Elide, so at least give this marriage a shot before you decide you don’t want to do it. Now, get over there and ask your godsdamned wife to dance.” 
I hesitate, and I suddenly feel like I’m about to go ask one of the popular girls to dance with me at prom. Gods, I hated high school. “Fine,” I mutter and then walk towards the couple in the corner, Rowan just behind me, surely to make sure I actually do what I say I’m going to do. 
As I approach Elide and Aelin, they quiet down and Aelin gives Elide a nudge. I fucking hate this. So fucking awkward.
Nonetheless, I clear my throat and ask, “Would you like to dance?”
It comes out better than I expect it to, my voice remains calm and my hand is effortlessly held out in front of her. Rowan looks back and forth between the two of us. Aelin is watching me with an intensity that I hate.
Then, as apparently Elide has to take a minute to decide if she wants to or not, Rowan takes Aelin’s hand and drags her to the middle of the floor. Great. At least someone’s dancing at my wedding. 
Forgetting that my hand is still raised out to her, I nearly jump when she places her hand in mine. 
I wrap my fingers around hers, noticing again how much smaller her hands are than mine. Everything about this girl is tiny. It’s like I could tuck her in my pocket and take her everywhere I go.
Why the fuck do I love that so much?
Besides, that’s probably the last thing she’d want right now.
As we pause on the dance floor, I can feel Aelin and Rowan’s eyes on us.
Actually, it’s everyone. Everyone is staring, and I can tell she notices, too. This is nothing to me. I’m used to being in the spotlight, but something tells me she’s not quite as comfortable as I am. She’s gone as stiff as she did when we were taking our pictures after the ceremony. Can’t wait to see how awkward those end up. We’ll have to frame one on the living room wall so everyone can see how fucked our wedding day was.
My hands find her waist and I pull her into me, just a bit. She gasps and her hands land on my chest. I lean down and whisper in her ear, “You know I don’t bite, right?”
I swear, I feel her shudder at my words, but I don’t let myself focus on what exactly that means.
“Sorry,” she says, and her hands relax as they go around the back of my neck. We sway for a moment and I have to admit that I like having her close to me. Her body is nearly pressed against mine. She wouldn’t be able to get her hands around my neck without being so close. 
I try to be the civil human being Rowan has asked me to be. “I’m sorry about earlier.”
She almost looks surprised by this. “For what?”
I wasn’t sure. The smoking? The drinking? The disappointment of me being her husband? “I know this is overwhelming,” I say, instead. “It’s a lot to take in. We should be able to enjoy our day, though.”
She relaxes a little bit more but looks around nervously. “Doesn’t all the attention bother you?”
I shrug. “I’m used to it.” She tenses again and I sigh. Why do I have a feeling I’m trying to fight a losing battle? “I don’t care for it much, but it’s nothing new.”
She looks up at me then, one brow raised. “A rockstar who doesn’t like attention?”
I snort. “I play music because I love music,” I answer, simply.
She seems to like that answer because she gives me a little smile. It quickly disappears. “Can I ask you something and you answer honestly?”
I nod, unsure of where this conversation is headed.
“Was this a setup? Our marriage?” she asks, and her voice is quiet.
But I don’t understand. My brows furrow and our slow swaying back and forth slows even more. “What do you mean?”
She hesitates as her cheeks turn pink and she shakes her head. “Nevermind, I just
” She looks up at me and pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. It’s adorable. “I feel like I’m in a dream, but I still don’t know what to think of it all.”
“You sure you didn’t sneak any more of the liquor when I wasn’t watching?” I ask, an attempt to lighten the mood. “I hear Aelin offered you a Xanax. Those will have you feeling pretty dream-like if you’re not careful.”
To my surprise, she laughs. It’s quiet, but she nods, the tension from her body starting to disappear once more. 
“Hopefully it’s a good dream, anyway,” I continue, swaying to the beat of the song. “Or, at least not a nightmare.” 
“Not a nightmare,” she amends, but it doesn’t escape me that she didn’t say it was a good dream.
I’ll take my victories where I can though. “Good.” It’s quiet for a few more minutes as we continue to gently sway. I’ve never been one for dancing, but if it means Elide can’t run off and hide from me, I’ll give it a shot. Might as well take advantage of the time, too. “So
we didn’t really use any of our time earlier to get to know each other.”
“We sort of had an advantage. We technically already knew each other.”
I scoff. “Semantics. What do you want to know about me?”
Her eyes go wide and I don’t know if it’s because she wasn’t expecting me to be so direct or because she doesn’t expect me to want to do this now, in the middle of our first dance. “Like what?”
“Like
anything,” I say, awkwardly laughing. “How about this, you can ask me any question, and then I’ll ask you one. We don’t have to answer, not yet at least. Want me to go first?”
Those dark eyes are skeptical, but she nods. Her bottom lip is back between her teeth and I fixate on it for way too long. I stop staring and clear my throat. “What’s your favorite color?”
She laughs, actually laughs, and asks, “That’s what you want to know?”
I wonder if she knows that her face lights up when she laughs. “It’s where I want to start.”
“You’re ridiculous.” She laughs again, softly this time. “Green. What’s yours?”
I answer without hesitation. “Black.”
Eyes that are nearly as dark as my favorite color roll. “Of course the metal vocalist’s favorite color is black.”
She’s teasing me. I like it. My dick likes it even more if the way my pants tighten is any indication.
I like a girl with a little fire.
“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter but can’t help my smile. I think she notices because her eyes meet mine and narrow. “Alright, any question, go.”
“How old are you?” She asks, simply, I nod.
Solid question.
“Twenty-eight.” Two years from thirty. Kill me now.
“Twenty-five,” she says, responding with her own age. 
She seems to not be bothered by the three year age gap. Before she can change her mind on the game continuing, I say, “Okay, this next one’s serious.”
Her smile falters but she lifts a brow.
“Favorite movie?” I ask and she laughs again. I like it when she laughs. I make it my personal mission to make her laugh as much as possible in the next six months.
She doesn’t even have to think about it. “The Princess Bride, no contest.” 
I swear my brows shoot up so high they nearly fly off my face. “Seriously?”
“Have a problem with that?” She asks, teasingly. 
“Hell no,” I mutter. “Amazing movie, solid choice.”
“Then you have a good taste in movies,” she says, and another song comes on, a little faster, but we continue to sway. “But, is it your favorite?”
I whistle. “Close call, but I’m gonna have to go with The Goonies. Kids who swear too much going on a treasure hunt and defeating actual criminals? Brilliant.”
“That’s fair.” She chuckles. “So you’re a fan of movies made before we were born.”
“The eighties have the best,” I say.
“Agreed,” she smiles, and holy fuck we actually have something in common.
“What about music,” I ask, and at some point, we’ve started adding a turn to our sway. I don’t know if I was the one to start it or if it was her, but I take a chance and let one of my hands rest on the small of her back. She doesn’t swat it away, which I take as a good sign. “Does your love for the eighties continue with music or is it just the movies of the golden era you like?”
“Of course. Michael Jackson, Whitney Houston, Madonna. What more could you ask for?”
Oh gods, please tell me she isn’t still a fan of pop. Eighties pop, I can handle, but today’s music? Can’t do it.
And what more could you ask for? The rock gods.
“I mean, what about Van Halen?” I gauge her reaction and keep going when she shrugs. “Queen. Bon Jovi, Journey, AC/DC, Def Leppard, Aerosmith, Mötley CrĂŒe, Guns N’ Roses—”
Her hand reaches up and covers my mouth. “I get it.” She really looks like she’s trying not to smile. Her eyes are
sparkling. Fucking shining. “Eighties rock. I need to add it to my Spotify immediately.”
Her hand falls away from my mouth and I wish it didn’t. Not because I like having my mouth covered, but because her skin is on my lips.
“You won’t regret it,” I promise, and I hope she knows I’m talking about more than the music. 
“Do you read?” She asks, and the smile has remained on her mouth. 
“Often,” I admit.
“Favorite genre?” She adds.
“That’s two questions,” I protest.
She laughs and shakes her head. “They go hand in hand!”
I chuckle as I spin her out and pull her back in, dipping her down. Our eyes remain locked and she looks happy. My earlier anger and frustration seems ridiculous. As I pull her back up she stays in my arms for a moment before I spin her back out and we resume our dance. 
“Fantasy and sci-fi mostly,” I answer, holding her just a little bit closer. “My favorite is the Hobbit. I love a good classic. Currently making my way through the Witcher series.”
She studies me for a moment. “Interesting.”
“You don’t approve?” I ask, teasingly.
Her hand tightens on my shoulder. “I didn’t say that. I like a well-read man.” I raise a brow and her cheeks turn pink. She adds hastily, “I enjoy reading, too.”
“That’s two things we have in common,” I mutter, unable to look away from her sparkling eyes. “If only you had better taste in music.”
“Excuse me for actually wanting to be able to understand the lyrics!”
And I know we aren’t talking about Van Halen anymore. I narrow my eyes at her. “You’ve listened to our music.”
“I’ve tried,” she specifies, shaking her head. “It was too
”
She trails off and I’m far too impatient for to wait for her to go on. “Loud? Aggressive? Violent?”
She’s trying to keep from smiling again and biting her lip, so now I’m thinking about biting her lip. It’s an appealing idea. I wonder how bad of an idea it would be to try and kiss her.
Probably pretty bad, considering she turned her head and I kissed her cheek after we said our vows.
I internally cringe again at the most awkward moment of my life to date. Nice.
“All of the above?” She says it as more of a question than a statement and starts laughing again. She looks away from me and I can tell she’s blushing. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to bash your music. I just
 Are you even saying real words?”
I snort and keep myself from smiling, even though the corners of my lips want to desperately tip up. “Yes
and I do actually sing sometimes.”
“And I have no idea how you still have any vocal cords left to do it with,” she notes. She’s teasing me again and my body is reacting
again. “Although, I must admit that I haven’t listened to your music long enough to actually hear any singing.”
“Then you admit you haven’t given it a real chance,” I wink. She laughs. “Maybe if it’s just me and my guitar you’ll like it.”
She raised a brow. “Are you offering to serenade me?”
“You did marry my sorry ass, it’s the least I can do,” I tell her.
And she laughs again and damn it, that laugh is making me smile like a fucking idiot. Her laugh does things to me.
“Fine, but I get to pick the song,” she says.
“Fine,” I agree, then add, “as long as it’s not Madonna.” 
Her smile softens but she nods. “I suppose I can deal with that.”
We stare at each other for a moment and I have no idea how long we’ve been dancing, have no idea how many songs have passed, but before we can continue our conversation, the photographer is asking for pictures, yet again.
I suppose we’ll want to remember this day, as if I could ever forget it. It’s not everyday that you marry someone you’ve never met. 
As soon as we leave the ballroom and head out to take pictures with the sunset, it’s like a switch is flipped. Whatever progress we’d made inside is gone by the time the photographer asks us to pause because the lighting is “perfect”. I reach for her hand, but just as my fingers close around hers, she pulls away.
“Sorry,” she breathes, eyes darting up to mine before looking away.
It’s like our dance never happened, like she didn’t laugh with me, and smile at me like she might actually be happy to be married to me, too.
I don’t get it.
We take the pose suggestions the photographers suggest, Elide as stiff and anxious as she was for the first set. Our grandkids are going to love these one day.
What the fuck am I saying? We don’t even know if we’ll have kids, much less grandkids. At this rate of back and forth hot and cold, I’ll likely never even touch her, which will be a damn shame.
At one point, the photographer asks her to stand with her back to my chest. She takes her position, a solid two feet in front of me. Sighing, I step forward and wrap my arms around her waist.
She gasps, gripping my arms. “Lorcan, what are you doing?”
“I’m hugging you, what does it look like I’m doing?”
I can practically feel the heat radiating off her cheeks from how hard she’s blushing.
The photographer cries, “Don’t move an inch!”
So I don’t. I lock down my arms around her, despite her awkward laughter and squirming as she takes shot after shot. Right before she’s done, I plant a kiss on her cheek, just like I did after we said our vows. When I pull back and look down at her, she’s already gazing up at me, a small smile playing on her rosebud lips. Instead of the death grip she had my arms a moment before, her arms are wrapped around mine.
Gods, I want to kiss her.
And she’s my wife, so I do.
I lean, brushing my lips against hers before she can object. Her eyes flare for just a moment, before she softens and it goes from me kissing her to kissing each other.
One of the photographers claps as he says something about getting the best photo of the day, making Elide jump back, and honestly, for a split second I consider punching the scrawny slip of a man for interrupting our first kiss.
Elide looks away from me and gathers up her skirt. “I think I need a drink. I’m thirsty.”
The words are mumbled and her cheeks are red as she excuses herself and walks back inside. I watch her go, watch as she disappears through the doors and leaves me outside with the photographer.
I slowly look at him and his face pales as I shove my hands in my pockets and follow her path. For a moment, while we danced, while we kissed, everything felt natural.
Now, I’m not sure where I stand which is complete and utter bullshit considering she’s my wife. 
I’m officially a married man.
And, I have no clue if the woman I’m married to even likes me. 
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