#throne of glass drabble

[throneofsapphics]

a/n: this year I'm doing kinktober a bit differently, I'll have one longer kink and angst riddled fic with shorter drabbles/oneshots sprinkled in between. I'll keep this masterlist updated as it goes on. for some of the days I'll be opening up a vote for which character to pair our lovely reader with <3

if anyone wants to be added to a taglist, either for the series, kinks, or both please let me know! you can comment under here or send me an ask/message :)

against the contract - poly!Feysandriel x f!Reader

If they were genuinely bad people, it would be so much easier to kill them. Signing a special contract to work with Azriel, Feyre, and Rhysand turns out nowhere near expected. You were a bit of fun that became their solace and escape, they were supposed to be an easy assignment that turned into your living nightmare.

first post 10/1, updating weekly

kinks drabbles/fics list (dates subject to change)

10/3 one for the party - orgy with aelin’s court | posted 10/6 experiments - toys with aelin | posted 10/9 special plans - punishment with poly!neris 10/12 (not very) patient - impact play with lorcan 10/15 throne pet - exhibitionism with poly!manorian  10/18 pretty girl - dacryphilia with poly!cazriel 10/21 give me more - throat-training with lucien 10/24 chase me baby - cnc/primal with cassian 10/27 weapons - gun play with poly!ruhnlidia  10/30 kittens - pet play with manon, nesta, & elide

bonus content

to be added

[hunnyrants]

A/N: Quick drabble I wrote while listening to Ptolemaea by Ethel Cain.

Summary: After spending several days in the Night Court, Cadre!Reader has a nightmare triggered by their unfamiliar surroundings.

Pairing: Azriel X Cadre!Reader

Warnings: PTSD, trauma induced nightmares, mentions of dying, mental torture, dissociation, angst, fear of the dark

Nightmare:

You thought it was real.

That the fire breathing bitch queen had saved you, that she had been real. It was nothing but something Maeve planted to tease you and then break you further.

You knew it.

The dream made freedom taste so real, the grass under your feet felt softer, the air was deliciously cold and fresh against your face. It smelled like snow.

But it was never real.

There is no fireheart. Maeve long since turned her to ash.

As you knelt once more before the dark queen's throne, your back aching with how long you had bowed. Utterly at her mercy. You knew Rowan was next to you, Fenrys on your right.

You knew they had the same delusions you were given. Fenrys was sobbing, he had always hated his oath and to be given a taste of freedom only to have it ripped away? And Rowan, how cruel to have to learn his true mate was not Lyria through a dream. But the savior? She died during the fall of Terrasen.

There is no escaping.

Your hands began trembling and the world started to crack and twist. Whips of darkness began cracking across your vision, and your friends began screaming.

There is no escaping.

Rowan Whitethorn was begging for his mate. His fireheart. The floor roiled underneath you and yet you could only kneel.

As Fenrys began to scream beside you, you forced your head up. Fighting against that unholy darkness that Maeve tortured you with for centuries.

Your last defiance was to look her in the eye, before the blood oath took everything from you.

But as you forced your eyes up and you caught a glimpse of violet eyes, everything shattered.

There was darkness all around you as you launched yourself from your bed, pulling your dagger with you from under your pillow.

You couldn't see.

Your magic thrashed in your veins. There were hands on your shoulders suddenly and a male's voice sounded nearby. The darkness cleared and you saw him, your fated.

Azriel.

There was something in his eyes that you couldn't place, but you didn't want to.

"Are you okay?" He sounded like he was underwater, and you weren't quite sure you weren't still dreaming until his scarred hands squeezed you.

You knew you were awake when you saw the other male out of the corner of your eye, Rhysand. Instincts told you to straighten your shoulders and make eye contact with the high lord- his eyes.

You couldn't do it.

He was trying to speak to you, but if Azriel sounded underwater, Rhysand might as well have been in another room entirely.

So you put your hands on your mates chest and pushed him away from you. Azriel hesitated, instincts likely bellowing at him to hold, to protect, to soothe.

You were beyond words.

Saying anything to either of them was too hard to even comprehend, dredging up the energy to pretend you were fine. The energy to pull yourself together and once again submit yourself to someone stronger than you made you want to bellow.

Blood curdling wrath hit you and your magic roared in answer, heating your wrecked soul. Not wrath directed at the males before you who were trying to speak to you.

You couldn't hear them anyway. You couldn't feel Azriel's hands back on your shoulders, shaking you before abruptly dropping you. You didn't register the pain in his eyes when he did either, or the magic that had erupted from you and cocooned around you.

You didn't notice that the dagger you had grabbed to desperately attempt to defend yourself from old ghosts fell from your hand and clattered to the ground.

You stared straight ahead and felt nothing at all. Until you felt Rhysand break through your mental shields.

Your very soul seemed to cave in when they fell. Rhysand felt it too, you knew. As he immediately began to pull back, knowing he pushed far too hard when your mind was this vulnerable. But as your memories and your pain swarmed to the surface? He saw it.

And Rhysand finally understood why you couldn't hold his eyes.

He saw it himself.

[mariaofdoranelle]

The Booty-Call Dare

Written for @throneofglassmicrofics, prompt “Impress”

I got the idea for this after an incredibly unproductive conversation at a bar lol

Warnings: language, sexual themes (but SFW)

Words: 963

You’re just proving my point, Rowan texted her in response to a selfie Aelin sent of herself eating pie.

“What’re you smiling at?” Lysandra teased from the other side of Aelin’s living room, which caught Elide’s and Fenrys’ attention.

She immediately wiped it off her face and gave an eye roll before giving her attention back to Rowan.

It has strawberries in it, Aelin texted back, defensive of her dessert choices. It counts as fruit.

Nice try. There was a brief pause before he sent, What’re you up to?

Not much. You?

She needed to cut this conversation short before Fenrys complained that she wasn’t focused on Girls’ Night—no one could pinpoint exactly how he started attending, but he was a constant in her monthly-ish reunions with Lysandra and Elide.

In response, Rowan sent her a picture. It was a mirror one, just the curves of his biceps and shoulders in front of rows of dumbbells.

A gym pic.

Are you trying to make me feel bad for all that pie I ate? What the hell was she supposed to say?

His response came lightning fast. I thought it counted as fruit.

“Holy shit,” Elide said from behind Aelin, right before snatching her phone and zooming in the picture. “He’s so trying to impress you with these.”

“Stop it,” Aelin hissed as she took her phone back.

It wasn’t a show-off picture like the ones Fenrys posts, it was casual. Rowan must be so oblivious he had sent her a not-so-friendly reminder of his very tanned biceps.

“What?” Lys asked.

“Rowan DMed her a gym pic!”

Fenrys choked on his pie.

Aelin crossed her arms, ready for it. Her friends had a problem of constantly reading too much into Rowan’s behavior when he was just being a good friend.

Fenrys held both hands up in surrender. “Look, I can’t see through a dude’s heart, but I know when he wants his dick wet.”

Sometimes, Aelin wondered if things wouldn’t be different if she hadn’t been in a relationship when they met, in college. Still, she was glad for what they had now. “Rowan wouldn’t risk our friendship for a hookup.”

Fenrys sighed, a faraway look that indicated that he was in Philosopher Mode. “Having female friends is like raising chickens. Even if you never eat them, at some point you’ll look at them while you’re hungry and wonder.”

“Very well, then.” Aelin raised one brow up. “We’re friends.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And you don’t think of me romantically.”

“No, ma’am.”

“But if I invited you to my bedroom…”

“I’d be there in a heartbeat. So would Rowan.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Alright.”

“Alright?” Aelin was confused, Fenrys never gave up like this.

“Alright,” he confirmed. “Call him now. Prove me wrong.”

“What.”

Lys and Elide cackled, then started a chorus of Do it! Do it!

Never one to back away from a challenge, Aelin squared her shoulders and unlocked her phone. “If I win, you’ll be demoralized and drop this subject forever. And if I lose…?”

Lys rolled her eyes. “You’ll fuck Rowan. I think this is a win-win scenario for you, Ae.”

But would she? She didn’t have much time to think about it, given the speed in which Rowan took her call.

“Hey, Fireheart.”

Her friends would mock her endlessly is she described Rowan as anything close to cheerful, but after being best friends for so many years, Aelin learned how to pick apart his undertones of grumpiness and yes, this was a happy one.

“Buzzard, hi.” The messy background noise from the call indicated that he was still at the gym. Good. She’d win this bet more easily if he was busy when she made the proposition—an idle brain is Hella’s playground. “Are you busy tonight?”

“Depends. Why’d you ask?”

“Um…” Aelin got up and paced around her small living room, and her friends watching on the edge of their seats didn’t help at all. “This might seem out of the blue, but I was wondering if you were up for… some Netflix and chill. You and me.”

This pause that felt like a lifetime was probably Rowan rewiring his brain after his best friend threw herself at him. Then, “Sure. There’s this new horror movie I thought you’d like. Or you wanna watch Gilmore Girls again?”

He didn’t want this. Rowan didn’t want it so bad he failed to recognize her proposal for what it was. The desire to hang up on him and disappear forever was overwhelming.

“No, not Netflix and chill. Netflix. And chill.”

A pause. “I’m confused.”

“I—“ Aelin pinched the bridge of her nose. This was harder than she thought. “Do you wanna bang?”

Rowan’s deafening silence was all the confirmation she needed.

“Fuck, um—“ Aelin grimaced. “I’m sorry. This was so stupid of me—“

“NO!” he interrupted. “S’okay. I— Um— Can you meet me in an hour? My place? Yours? D’youwannagrabdinner?”

“Um…” From the way her friends were grinning, Aelin’s blush must be visible from outer space. “Your place. I already ate. See you in an hour.”

“Cool.”

Aelin mumbled an unintelligible goodbye and hung up.

“I’m not even surprised.” Fenrys had a triumphant smirk on. “He’s doing cartwheels as we speak.”

Lysandra, the traitor, was laughing. “He’s setting off fireworks!”

Ellie’s eyes went wide. “Did he ask for that hour to shave?”

Aelin was frozen in place.

She had just scheduled a hookup with her best friend.

“Should I call him again to cancel?”

“Do you want to?”

No, she didn’t.

She had just potentially murdered their friendship, and Rowan seemed to be okay with it.

Aelin peeked under her shirt, cursed and ran to her room.

“I’m wearing granny underwear!”

If Aelin was about to ruin their friendship, she’d do it right.

You can get notified when I update by either turning notifications on for @mariaofdoranelle-fics or entering my (sometimes glitchy) tag list!!

TAG LIST

I couldn’t tag the people in bold, sorry!

@aelinchocolatelover

@autumnbabylon

@bookcide

@booksandteaonarainydayislife

@cookiemonsterwholovesbooks

@courtofjurdan

@dreamer-133

@elentiyawhitethorn

@elizarikaallen

@emily-gsh

@empress-ofbloodshed

@fangirlprincess09

@goddess-aelin

@gracie-rosee

@leiawritesstories

@lululululululuop

@renxzs

@rowanaelinn

@s-uppertime

@sarahjswift

@staghorn-mountains

@superspiritfestival

@swankii-art-teacher

@thegreyj

@throneofus7

@violet-mermaid7

@wishfulimaginings

[gothicbabydollz]

look what i just found 😀

I hate it, this was a hard read. I can’t tell if it’s cause i just really hate the way i was trying to write this or if it’s cause it’s about a man. Who knows.

I’m gonna post it anyway since i did promise this ages ago. I apologise if it’s not my best work.

strict!dom rowan…

to the outside world, Rowan Whitethorn is cool, collected and ferocious member of the cadre.

and that doesn’t change much behind closed doors, especially in the bedroom.

he never realised just how much he strives for control, gets off on it. Until he tapped into his dominant side.

and when you came along, the switch clicked perfectly into place. You’re so eager and so willing to listen to him

you want to be his good girl.

now, Rowan has rules. Not too many but he is strict about them

1. Manners.

If you want something from him, you ask nicely. If he’s in between your legs, has your thighs pushed back against your chest. He’s watching your pretty cunt swallow his thick fingers. Slowly slipping in and out, massaging your warm, wet walls. Curling perfectly to feel you squeeze. Desperate for release, you want more. “Please,” You’ll groan out.

“Please what, angel? What is it?” He asks so nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t stroking that one specific and delicate spot inside you. Rowan does it on purpose. Making it harder for you ask for what you’d like from him.

“F-faster! Mmph! Need you to fuck me faster, sir please.”

(this man is so sir coded istg!!)

Majority of the time, Rowan is a ‘you’ll take what I give you’ kind of male. But gods does he love hearing you beg. He’ll drag this out for a while, because one thing to know about Rowan…he’s a tease. He’ll get you whining for him before he finally gives you what you want. Thrusting his fingers into your heat at a relentless pace, cunt sloshing lewdly. You asked him so nicely, how could he refuse? Rowan‘s hand will also find its place wrapped around your throat. Not squeezing. Just holding. So he can feel the vibrations of your moans against the palm of his hand.

“You like that? Is this what you wanted?” He’ll ask you. Knowing you’re getting fucked too good to form a coherent answer.

Too add on, you thank him when you cum. Rowan sees this as form of appreciation for him. He can’t describe how much he enjoys feeling you cling to him as you bury your face into his skin, or look him in eye, murmuring out, broken and raspy “thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you” almost like a chant.

2. Don’t act like a brat.

Aka, don’t talk back, don’t roll your eyes at him, don’t try to make him jealous, don’t try to squirm away from the pleasure he gives you rowan knows what you can handle

This one is definitely a rule you slip up on from time to time. That little masochistic devil on your shoulder loves to test Rowan’s own devil, the sadist twin.

But we’ll get into the punishments another time.

3. Don’t you dare climax without his permission.

Rowan could go for hours. Teasing you. Winding you up. Release so close you could reach out and touch yet still it’s miles away.

He’s deadly serious about this rule

And he loves making it hard for you to follow

He’ll edge you for ages, making you ride his thigh or hump his pillow while he watches, muttering all sorts of filthy remarks.

“does that feel good, huh? like rubbing yourself all over my fucking pillow? filthy girl, you want me to smell your cunt while i sleep, shit.”

“where’d my precious angel go?”

And all you can do is pant loudly, hips rutting harder and faster as you try to hide how much his words affect you

Every time he senses that you’re close and, he’ll make you stop.

He knows the signs.

By the gods, he knows you better than you know yourself.

And he loves to remind you, that through all this torture, he’s not being cruel…he just knows what’s best for you

Even if that means denying your climax until you’ve hit your breaking point, where he’ll finally take over and do exactly that…

He’ll break you.

[theladyofdeath]

500 words or less prompt: Elide walks in on Lorcan taking a bubble bath. There are candles.

A/N: There's something about fluff in a bathtub that just...gets to me. I hope you enjoy!

It was dark when Elide got home.

She had promised to be home hours ago but had to stay late at the bar. Her replacement had been running behind, their car battery dying, which led to Elide's early night off becoming just the same as every other night.

She came into the kitchen through the garage, seeing a cleaned plate on the counter. After looking in the fridge, she saw that Lorcan had made her a plate and set it in there after it was clear she wasn't coming home any time soon.

"Lor?"

He didn't answer.

The house was dark and silent, but his truck was in the garage so she knew he was home. After slipping off her shoes and hanging her keys on the hook, Elide made her way through the house. A candle was burning in the living room, and the t.v. was on but paused, halfway through a movie that Lorcan had apparently been watching.

"Lor?" she called again, in a sing-song voice. There was still no response as she began making her way upstairs. The house was old, each step creaking as she walked up the stairs. They'd gotten it cheap, as a fixer upper, and it was now the epitome of comfy and cozy.

As she made her way down the hallway, the softest of relaxing music filled the space.

Suddenly, Elide knew exactly where she would find him.

Through the master bedroom, Elide gently pushed open the door to the master bathroom and chuckled at the sight of Lorcan. His massive frame was submerged beneath a heap of bubbles in the tub. It smelled like lavender and vanilla; candles were strewn all around the bathroom. Soft, Celtic music played. Lorcan's eyes were shut.

Seeming to sense her presence, he said, "It's been a long day."

"People piss you off?"

"People always piss me off."

"Do I need to kick someone's ass?" Elide offered, still keeping her voice quiet.

Lorcan chuckled as he opened his eyes and looked at his wife. "I'll never say no to that. You're late."

She frowned. "I know. My replacement ran late. I saw my dinner in the fridge. Thank you."

He nodded, his eyes soft. He was clearly exhausted. "If you can wait to eat..." He gestured for her to join him.

Elide suppressed her grin. Lorcan was not a small man, but in contrast, Elide was a small woman. Even if he took up eighty percent of the tub, Elide only took up the other twenty.

"I don't know," she teased. "I'm pretty hungry."

Lorcan snorted as his eyes closed, once more. "I promise it'll be worth it."

Elide couldn't deny that. She stripped off her clothes and meandered into the tub, sitting idly on Lorcan's lap. He wrapped his arms around her and laid his chin on top of her head as the music played around them.

There was nothing sexual about it, only comfort. He rubbed her back gently, his fingers dancing across her skin smoothly, and just as Elide closed her eyes and began to drift into a state of utter calmness, Lorcan chuckled.

She opened her eyes and glanced up at him. "What?"

"I just imagined you kicking the ass of the sixty-year-old woman that made me want to quit my job today," he said, quietly. "It was satisfying."

Elide laughed quietly as she snuggled up against him, breathing him in. "Your twisted mind would find joy in that."

"If my mind is twisted, yours is just as bad."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Elide said, fingers trailing down his chest. "I'm nothing but pure and innocent."

Lorcan took her fingers and made them still before bringing them to his mouth and kissing each fingertip softly, teasingly. His tone set her on fire when he said, "You are not pure or innocent."

Elide grinned, refusing to correct him, because they both knew it was true. Their hands wandered one another until simple touches became unbearable. They made love to one another until the water ran cold, and it was nearly midnight before Elide got around to her dinner.

But she didn't mind.

[leiawritesstories]

How about from the firsts list "first time defending them"?

CUUUUUTE thanks for asking!!

500 followers celebration prompt fills

Word count: 650

Warnings: dumb high school bullies, swearing, mild angst?

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

As she walked out of the classroom, Aelin slipped her earbuds in, tucked her head down, and focused on her footsteps, trying to drown out the soft whispers that followed her everywhere she went. Have you heard what she did? I knooowwww, it's so shady! Ugh, I just know she buys her followers, the dirty--

Enough.

Enough.

She knew the nasty words were just rumors, just a bunch of stupid high school kids who didn't know what they were talking about, but they hurt all the same. And she knew she could never stop them; nothing she said would change the whispers. If anything, speaking up would only make people believe their wild, disgusting lies even more.

No words she spoke would ever convince the student population of Orynth High that Aelin Galathynius was anything other than a desperate attention-seeker whose stupid little TikTok was probably only followed by bots and creepy old pervs. She had that damn account as a way to escape her reality, but it had turned out to invade her whole entire life.

"Hey look, it's Aelinnnnnnn," snickered Chaol Westfall, a particularly chauvinist member of the football team. He was convinced that his quarterback status made him the king of Orynth High, despite the fact that he'd never come close to winning any kind of championship. "Gonna do a trend for us, Aelinnnnnnn?" He stretched out the syllables of her name, mimicking her TikTok username.

Aelin rolled her eyes, so beyond done with Chaol's bullshit, and was half a second away from snarking an insult or ten when another guy's voice cut in.

"You're just jealous that her little trends get a million times more views and likes than your shitty photos of your flabs, Westfailure," Rowan Whitethorn scoffed. "Y'know, steroids don't do shit when you don't actually hit the gym."

Chaol's face turned a surprisingly vivid shade of crimson. "How about I hit you, asshat?" he snapped.

Rowan set his backpack casually on the floor, rolled his neck, and cracked his knuckles. "Bring it on, Little Miss I-Lost-My-Virginity-To-A-Sock." Most of the people in the classroom, including Aelin, snickered, eagerly watching the drama unfold.

"Fuck you," Chaol grunted.

"You wish," Rowan smirked.

Snarling wordlessly, Chaol reared back and punched Rowan right in the stomach, just in time for the teacher to walk in and watch the quarterback punch the captain of the hockey team.

"Westfall!" the teacher yelled, breaking up the fight as soon as it started. "Leave. Now."

"B-but-but sir, he started it!" Chaol protested, stunned.

Mr. Vaughan, who happened to be one of the football coaches, folded his arms across his chest and glared flatly at Chaol. "Get your ass out of my classroom, Westfall. You're lucky if you're allowed to show your face at practice for the next two weeks." His glare only intensified when Chaol tried to protest. "Get. Out."

Biting his tongue, Chaol collected his backpack and hauled ass from the classroom. The class settled down, slowly dispersing back into their seats.

Aelin sat down in the seat across the aisle from Rowan and flashed him a grateful smile. "Thanks," she murmured. "You didn't have to do that."

"Yeah I did," he returned. "No jackass gets to talk to a girl like that."

"Chivalry? In this day and age?" Aelin mock-gasped. "And here I thought they said chivalry was dead."

"Maybe, but decency isn't." Rowan flashed her a boyish grin. "Oh, and I may or may not have asked one of my buddies to film that. He says it's already going viral."

Aelin had to clamp her hands over her mouth to smother her laughter. "Shit, I love that! I'll duet it to my account so it never dies."

Needless to say, Chaol Westfall became the face of every Orynth High meme for the next two years. Aelin called it comeuppance. And a little help from her good friend the internet.

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@chronicchthonic14

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

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

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

[aelinschild]

Trick, or treat?!

Gently - Drabble

Thank you so much for the ask, and so I give you a treat!! :))) Here's a quick drabble I just wrote for this, so pardon if its not fantastic, but there will be another one-shot coming verrrrrry soon.

SYNOPSIS: After a long day, all Aelin needs to get done is her skincare. Thankfully Rowan is there to lend a helping hand. WORDCOUNT: 1k WARNINGS: None - just fluff

Main Masterlist

After a long day at work, Aelin was looking forward tp the simple pleasure of washing the day off her face. Her routine, whether it be evening or morning, was her therapy. The gentle act of washing and preparing for bed was incredibly self-soothing, and she never failed to complete it each night.

Her steps up the stairs were heavy, like the weight of the week, but a few more moments, and then she’d be able to sleep the day away.

Entering her and Rowan’s shared bedroom, she founding him lounging on the bed. He had only his pyjama pants on, and a pair of reading glasses. This was their safe haven, and Rowan looked equally as comfortable as her bed. He was reading when she walked in, so at the sound of the door he looked up at her. I should just join him now…

“Hey love, all done for the night?” He whispers into the quiet of their room. Careful to not break the gentle atmosphere. 

Aelin just makes a hmph sound, letting her shoulders droop and releasing the built up tension in her neck. On light feet, with Rowan still staring lovingly, she walks over to the closet and shucks off her sweater and unbuttons her pants. Stepping out of them, then her underwear, she slips into a two piece silk pijama set. In no mood for anything sexy. 

Exiting her closet, Rowan’s attention was back on his book, though a small smile graced his face. 

Aelin needed to get her skincare done before she fell asleep on her feet, and so with one last longing look at her bed, she went to the bathroom.

Flicking the light on, their shared bathroom lit up. It was a humble room, and considering this was Aelin and Rowan’s first house together, it had what she wanted. Which was, of course, a bathtub. That was one thing she wouldnt compromise on.

As Aelin began to brush her teeth, she missed the sound off Rowan getting off their shared bed and approaching behind her. His strong hands wrapped around her middle. Caging her and and securing himself to her behind. 

He moulded his warm body to her, and while it was lovely to feel his strong torso and large thighs cage her closer to the sink, it made completing her routine much harder. He started peppering gentle kisses to her neck and by her ear. 

“Rowan…” Aelin murmurs, too tired for anything more. His hands just continue their gentle caresses before Aelin is abruptly spun around and lifted by the backs of her thighs. Rowan, now facing her, lifts Aelin onto the counter, gently setting her bottom down on the edge. His hands move from her thighs to her hips, down to her knees to spread her legs open wide enough that he can fit between them.

“Rowan.” Aelin says, a little stronger this time.

He just shushes her and smiles, eyes crinkling up. He leans in, and Aelin moves to what she thinks is a kiss, before he just delicately rests his forehead on hers. Staring into eachothers eyes with so much love. He then presses a chaste kiss to her lips, and steps back, still with his hands on her legs. A little breathless by the quick change, Aelin straightens up. 

“I though you were going to fall asleep on your feet over here,” he says gently. “So I've come to rescue you.” He turns and graps the cloth off the rack behind them, and leans around Aelin to soak it with warm water. 

Aelin’s a little starstruck, and a lot in love. Its not rare for the two of them to take turns taking care of eachother. These simple gestures are what strengthen their bond. The intimacy of each little moment, from washing eachothers hair to choosing an outfit for eachother, the little things that prove their unbreakable bond. 

“Okay, thank you.” Aelin hums out. Just letting Rowan take care of her, and basking in the moment. 

He lets the cloth warm up in the water, and in the meantime grab the micellar water and pours a little onto a cotton pad. When he deems it to have enough product, he turns back over to Aelin, now slouched on the counter with her eyes closed, and wipes the makeup off her face. It comes off easily, as most of it was removed hours later when she got home, just little bits remain. 

He tosses the now dirty cotton pad, and reaches for the warm cloth. Wiping off her face gently, careful not to irritate her skin, and then grabbing her evening cleanser. While Rowan had studied Aelin’s routine, wanting to know every little intricacy about the woman he adored, he was more than grateful for Aelins little quirk; leaving the bottle in order of use. Maybe for ease, or maybe for him, either way he knew which one was first. 

Rowan squeezed a few drops onto his hands to emulsify before lightly rubbing it onto Aelin’s face. She let out a delighted sigh, eyes still closed. Rubbing the cleanse in till it no longer made bubbles, he grabbed the cloth again to wipe it all off. 

Grabbing another cotton roll and dsqueezing out a few drops of her toner, he gently rubs that over her skin. Next is a serum, that he uses the dropper to put three drops directly on her face. Smoothing that on, he reaches for the moisturizer. Unscrewing the lid, and scooping out a little onto the back of his finger, he dots it all over her face before rubbing in the product. Its a little thicker, so it takes a moment, but Aelin doesnt move. Still in a tired trance, she just enjoys the intimacy of the moment. 

Rowan finishes off with some aquaphor on her lips, knowing shell be grateful for it in the morning. 

When he’s done, and admiring he good work, he rinses his hands off. Aelin, most likely asleep now, doesn't make any noises when he lifts her bridal style off the counter and carries her to bed. Feeling warm and happy, Rowan tucks the love of his life into her side of the bed, and then crawls into his side and reaches over to her. Aelin is still awake enough to curl herself around him, but soon both are drifting off to sleep, together.

Thank you again for reading!! Interaction is always appreciated! Have a lovely day!

[autumnshighlady]

Dom reader with gavriel maybe? He’s been the responsible one AND a general with many under his command for centuries. What happens when he’s under her command? ;)

ooooh delicious! i feel like it’d be very very hard to get him to submit and take it seriously but you’d get there in the end.

at first he’d laugh as you pinned his hands above his head, a lazy smirk on his face as he waited for you to give up and let him take control and take care of you. he’d try and persuade you, “come on princess, i can smell you dripping for me. why don’t you untie me so i can take care of my good girl? wouldn’t you like that?”. but you don’t give up, you take his cock in your mouth in that way you know he just loves. you bring him to the edge and then stop, taking great delight in his frustrated groan. both of you know he could easily overpower the restraints and flip you over, but he secretly loves it too much to do that. and then you keep edging him, and he finally slips into complete submission and begs for you desperately ;)

what do we think folks? shall i expand on this drabble?

[acourtofquestions]

A movie I’d love, and cry way too much at while watching.

“Midnight Duet” by imedmi

[throneofsapphics]

I’ve been waiting for you to open your requests 😩I had to write my ideas down as to not forget them lol

But could you write a Rowaelin x Reader where Rowan accidentally calls Reader Aelin? and Reader gets upset and kind of jealous 😁

falling behind 

Rowaelin x Reader 

Summary: Rowan keeps calling you Aelin

Warnings: jealousy

A/N: thank you for the request!!

Rowan heard the door swing open, his magic singing to the breeze flowing in, the combined scents of his two favorite people. 

“Aelin, could you take a look at -” 

“Try again,” he heard your voice, not raised but sharp and short, a tone he wasn’t used to hearing directed at himself. No, that was usually saved for courtiers that pissed you off royally. 

The door slammed shut, a muscle in his jaw ticked. He hated slammed doors and you knew that. 

Aelin’s scent had been so strong, you must’ve just come from spending time with her. He’d figure out what was wrong later - no, later didn’t feel right. Later wasn’t good enough. 

He frowned at the papers in front of him. Military movements and plans, not needed til the end of the week. Rowan shoved them to the back of his desk, placing a heavy glass paperweight on top. He hated paperwork anyway,a nd you’d always come before it if he could help it. Right now was one of those times. 

-

You found Fenrys first. He read the fury lining your features and dismissed the guard he was speaking to, and ushered you back towards one of your favorite secluded gardens, far away from prying eyes and ears. 

“Are you sure you weren’t -” he hesitated at the end, with good reason. 

“If you say overreacting I will throw something.” 

He fixed you with a look. You sighed. 

“It was the third time. This week. He always assumes it’s Aelin, that’s the problem.” 

“You sound jealous.” 

“I am,” the words slipped out before you could think better of them. It’s true, it always felt like there was something they had together and you wouldn’t be able to share with them. 

“Have you communicated this?” Fenrys prompted. 

“No,” you sounded a tad too petulant. 

“I don’t know much about triads but that does seem important,” he said dryly. You wanted to smack him, mainly because he’s right. “Speaking of communicating,” Fenrys continued, “you can stop hiding Rowan.” 

Fenrys disappeared before you could make good on your thoughts of violence. 

Rowan, per usual, didn’t look even the smallest bit ashamed at being so damn nosy. 

“That was a private conversation,” you said - accused. He shrugged. Asshole. 

Turning your back, you took a few steadying breaths. He waited. “I’m assuming you heard everything.” 

“Yes.” Footsteps. Rough hands gripping your shoulders, turning you gently. Green eyes meeting your own. “I’m sorry.” 

Your lips parted, before slamming shut. You were surprised at the rare apology from him, although you thought it was well deserved. 

“Just stop calling me Aelin.” 

“I think it’s deeper than that, love.” His hand slid around your back to pull you closer, warmth enveloping you. A kiss to the top of your hea. 

He wasn’t entirely forgiven, not yet, but you could lean into his warmth for now. 

“We need ot talk,” you murmured, “the three of us.” 

“I hope you don’t think you’re leaving,” his voice was teasing but his body tensed. 

Your immediate “no” relaxed him. 

“Communication is important,” you parroted Fenrys and Rowan had the good grace not to comment on it.

[hunnyrants]

A/N welcome to part 2 thats been written for like 4 months but was forgotten about entirely 🤠 oops? not proofread, we die like men.

Pairing: Azriel X Cadre!Reader

Summary: After a few days in the night court with your mate, you have nightmares triggered by the unfamiliar environment.

Warnings: PTSD, trauma induced nightmares, mentions of dying, mental torture, dissociation, angst, fear of the dark

Nightmare Pt. 2

Azriel's hands were trembling. Cassian noticed them immediately after he broke down the massive oak doors. Alarm had filled him once the house's lights began flickering as he was readying for bed and the doors threw open on their own. Even more so when he'd run in and seen you unconscious and clutched protectively in his arms as if you might slip away from him at any second. The room was trashed as well, but even that seemed secondary when the scent of his highlord was fresh in the room and nowhere to be seen.

Cassian opened his mouth to ask for Rhys’ whereabouts, when the muted sound of retching filled the room- Azriel curled tighter around you at the sound. Cass turns towards the set of doors leading to your closet and bathing room, striding towards them immediately before knocking furiously.

“Rhys?”

A beat of silence.

“A minute, please.”

Taken aback slightly by the curt response, Cassian turns back towards Azriel who has his nose and mouth pressed against the side of his mate's head. His wings curled around the two of you as a barrier but low enough that he can still see over them and into the room beyond. The incessant ticking of the clock on the mantel seemed to be a hammer taken to a coffin, Cass had counted up to nearly a hundred before Rhys finally stepped out of the washroom.

He opened his mouth as if to say something but glanced at Azriel who had yet to make note of his entrance into the room.

“I felt her blood oath,” was all that came out.

“To the fire breathing bitch queen? That must've been rough,” Cass says, an attempt at brightening the mood. Stars guttered in Rhys’ eyes though.

“Yes, but there was an older one,” he shakes his head and drags a hand over his mouth. Cassian helps himself to the small bar near the fireplace of your rooms and pours Rhys a finger's worth of whiskey. He pauses for a moment, glancing at Azriel. Would he even notice if there was a drink put in front of him?

Likely not, not with the slight tremors that even the feared shadowsinger couldn't hide. And definitely not with the glare he's leveling at Rhys.

“It… fuck,” Rhys presses the heels of his palms against his eye sockets and pushes deeply, causing spots to appear across his vision that nearly blend in with the frantic shadows that are swarming around the unconscious female.

Cassian pours Azriel a drink finally and sets it on the nightstand before handing Rhys his. Rhys sets it down without drinking it and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“It was just an echo of what was once there. But it ran deep.” Rhys takes a deep breath, ”Her old master was daemati, and wielded shadows as well.”

A low growl comes from deep in Az's chest in response, making Cass raise his brows and his brother droop more somehow. A roaring begins in his head as he contemplates what could have been so bad to have Rhys this rattled, he hasn't been like this since Nesta had her own nightmares a year prior.

Cassian was very glad then that Nesta had listened and stayed behind in their shared room.

“She was the queen's right hand, had the blood oath and her own mind used against her,” he pauses again and seems to brace himself. Rhysand raises his head and catches his brother's eye.

“Azriel is going to react badly.” the highlord's voice ringing clearly through the general's head. A subtle order and one not easily given. Cassian widens his stance and braces himself for the storm.

“She was enslaved for over 500 years-” he says finally, “-I reminded her of it enough that it triggered flashbacks.”

The room dropped several degrees as Azriel's shaking worsened and his grip shifted against you. A scarred hand sliding into your hair and tucking your head against the side of his neck, all while his eyes appeared to freeze over as he stared daggers at his highlord.

Cauldron and Mother above, the silence was unbearable.

Rhys put his hands up in a placating gesture, “Az-”

“No.” Helfrost seemed to coat the word as it left the shadowsinger's mouth.

“Not one more word Rhysand.”

The highlord of the night court winced. At the use of his full name and the fact it was his own brother who used it against him.

“Az, it's not like he did it on purpose,” Cassian attempted. “We didn't know. None of us could have.”

A humorless laugh left Azriel then.

“And yet Rhys saw fit to push so hard into her mind she couldn't even tell me herself.”

A pit formed in Cassian's stomach then, he hadn't considered that would have crossed his brother's mind.

“Because my magic is- was similar to the queens, her mind caved in easier than I expected.” Rhysand continues with a wave towards his face, “My physical attributes were another trigger. Black hair and even similar eye color, I think it was made worse when she saw me after her nightmare.”

“It was all bad.” He finishes, keeping his eyes on the male who looked torn between leaping across the room and throttling him and clutching the warrior in his arms.

Cassian moves to sit opposite Rhys in the plush forest green armchairs of your room. Angling himself to leap between the males if necessary.

“Where is Nesta?” Azriel breathes finally, his thumb brushing against the nape of your neck as his fingers gently scratch at your scalp. As if the soothing gesture might fix everything happening right now.

Cass stiffens and can't help his own instincts to protect his mate. “Waiting for me- did- do you want her here?”

Azriel closes his eyes and nods.

“She'll be safer with Nesta than anyone else here currently.”

“They will make for quite the duo,” Rhys says, the darkness in his eyes seeming to spread further. Azriel's lips pull back in a silent snarl when Cassian stands and claps Az on the shoulder, careful not to jostle him.

“Welcome to the ‘my mate has scary powers club’, brother,” Cass grins.

Rhysand heaves a long, suffering sigh as his eyes grow distant, contacting Nesta mind to mind rather than sending Cassian. Just in case Azriel decided he wanted to avenge any pain his mate was put in.

It took no more than a couple heartbeats to pass before Nesta shoves through the splintered door, her night slippers crunching against the pieces. Her silver eyes surveyed the trashed room quickly and ataraxia pulses gently with light in her hand.

Azriel cradling you against his chest with your legs strewn over his lap, perched on the side of the large bed built to accommodate wings and the dark teal bedding strewn about haphazardly. Nesta assessed her mate for injuries but quickly dismissed him as fine when she noticed the dark energy seemingly radiating off of Rhysand.

“Is the commander alright?” She asks finally, her quicksilver eyes catching hazel ones.

“Will you watch her for me?” Azriel dodges coldly but not unkindly.

Nesta nods and strides towards the bed where Azriel hesitates to part from the female despite his request. Eventually he does adjust you so you're laying properly on the bed and Nesta settles on the other side after setting her blade against the side of the bed. Nesta turns towards you then, brushing a lock of hair from your relaxed face and settles a cold soothing hand against your hot to the touch shoulder.

It was that movement alone that reassured Azriel enough to stand finally, his knees popping after being curled uncomfortably for too long.

“Tell me everything Rhysand, or I'm going to fucking lose it.”

Even Nesta looked at the highlord with pity as the words finished sounding, realizing they were all in for a long night.

[mariaofdoranelle]

Cemetery Buddies

Written for @throneofglassmicrofics, prompt “Petrichor”

So, I wrote this today at the cemetery instead of the chapters I actually have to finish, because it felt too weird to write smut by my grandfather’s grave. I was there the entire afternoon and I kinda conjured this fic on the spot, but I really hope you like it!

Warnings: mentions of death of loved ones, quick mention of death by covid

Words: 888

Aelin’s picnic blanket did a good job of protecting her clothes from the dewy grass, but not from its gentle prickling on the exposed part of her legs. It felt peaceful, though. She got used to the silence, the soft ruffling of leaves and chirping of birds filling her days in the past two years.

Just her and her parents hanging out together, like old times.

The cemetery staff were even kind enough to lend her a beach umbrella in case the rain came back.

A delighted sigh. Don’t you love the smell of petrichor, Mom? Aelin echoed inside her head, because she still thought it was weird to talk to a grave.

She slid her crochet hat over her face and closed her eyes, feeling the nature surrounding her instead of watching this landscape of flowers and white stones she knew so well. Feeling the wind battle against the edges of her blanket and lose it when her weight overpowered its strength. The sunlight peeking from parted post-rain clouds burned in a delicious way the long stretches of skin her overall shorts left exposed.

She lived in Orynth, after all. Aelin and her parents always made a point to make the most out of summer, for however long this freezing city and its climatic crisis allowed them to.

“You okay there?”

Aelin lifted her hat from her face enough to take a peek into the outside world, but she didn’t need it to know it was her cemetery buddy.

Fully sat on the blanket now, she eyed the Heineken six-pack on Rowan’s hand with a smirk.

“Better now that you brought the good shit.”

He gave her a close-lipped smile and unfolded the two chairs provided at the entrance by the staff, since Mr. Fancy Pants preferred it over lying on the grass like Aelin.

To an outside observer, the difference between them is striking. Rowan in his dark suit and tie, brooding with that permanent scowl on his face; right by his side, Aelin’s in denim overall shorts, red top and crochet hat, being her usual fun, dazzling self.

Both hanging out together, sharing beer by their loved ones’ graves. What made them good friends wasn’t their differences, but how similarly they were miserable.

“So.” She cleared her throat and eyed the six-pack. “I guess things didn’t go the way you wanted at work?”

“Lorcan—“

She tilted her head, brows furrowed in confusion.

“The boss’ kiss-ass,” he explained.

“Oh, that guy.” Aelin said with a grimace. She did not like this Lorcan person, even if he had a friendship of sorts with Rowan. “Tell me what he did this time.”

Today, she was loosened up enough by the weather and the beer, and it happened that Rowan was also a little chatty as well. Sometimes they silently sit side by side. Sometimes Aelin doesn’t sit, she kneels on the grass and hums ancient Terrasenian laments, which her buddy raptly listens to. Sometimes Rowan starts venting about his lack of ability to keep his deceased wife’s garden, leaves for the bathroom and comes back with red-rimmed eyes.

It’s getting progressively less dramatic, though. During the majority of the last few months, they’ve been just talking and sharing snacks.

His wife and Aelin’s dad died of COVID at approximately the same time, four years ago—hence why their graves are so close together. Her mom ended up sharing a grave with her husband a while after, but Aelin and Rowan didn’t cross paths at the cemetery until a year and a half ago, when their respective visiting habits finally overlapped.

And at some point during visits to their loved ones’ graves concurrently, they slowly forged a friendship—emphasis on the slow part, and no thanks to Rowan’s closed-off personality.

However, their conversation was cut short when an employee signaled that they were nearing closing time.

“So…” Aelin let out a performative sigh to chase away the awkwardness of goodbye. “Same time next week?”

Instead of answering, Rowan pointed his phone at her face, squinted at the screen for several seconds, then retreated the device.

Aelin tilted her head. Care to explain? she silently asked.

Rowan had a soft smile while he studied whatever was on his screen, for a longer time than expected, then jutted his chin towards her face. “I’m sending my mom a picture.”

During one of the rare occasions Rowan’s mom visited Lyria’s grave with her son, they found Aelin alone under a merciless sun. The older woman was scandalized. She made Aelin stay under her umbrella, forced Rowan to walk the long stretch back to the reception and get another one with the staff, and in the meantime very surreptitiously asked Aelin what her favorite color was.

With a soft chuckle, she took off her crocheted red hat with white daisy patches, handmade especially for her. “Did you tell her how much I love it?”

“Only after the first few times you told me to. The woman’s already too smug.”

“As she should be!”

Aelin still hadn’t got used to it, the sound of Rowan’s laugh. Maybe he was different outside of the cemetery—she wouldn’t know—but now he had a lightness of sorts that showed itself more and more frequently as the days passed, and she could only be happy to witness this change in him.

You can get notified when I update by either turning notifications on for @mariaofdoranelle-fics or entering my (sometimes glitchy) tag list!!

TAG LIST

@aelinchocolatelover

@autumnbabylon

@bookcide

@booksandteaonarainydayislife

@cookiemonsterwholovesbooks

@courtofjurdan

@dreamer-133

@elentiyawhitethorn

@elizarikaallen

@emily-gsh

@empress-ofbloodshed

@fangirlprincess09

@goddess-aelin

@gracie-rosee

@leiawritesstories

@lululululululuop

@renxzs

@rowanaelinn

@s-uppertime

@sarahjswift

@staghorn-mountains

@superspiritfestival

@swankii-art-teacher

@thegreyj

@throneofus7

@violet-mermaid7

@wishfulimaginings

[gothicbabydollz]

fr just thinking about why no one has written poly! lorcan x elide x reader…. we need it in our lives

No cause imagine you and elide worshipping lorcan’s cock together…

Tongue’s overlapping and brushing against one another’s. Licking, sucking, kissing along lorcan’s impressive shaft. Lorcan’s in heaven, pupils blown and mouth hung open as he watches his girl’s work wonders on his cock. You switch back and forth, between suckling the tip of his cock or tracing the throbbing veins that decorate the length of him.

Now Elide doesn’t have the same experience as you. So when she wants a shot at taking Lorcan’s cock down her throat, you do your best to help her. You gently brush the hair from her face as she takes him into her mouth, whispering, “Just keep breathing. Wanna hollow those cheeks for me? Atta girl.” Using the soft grip in her hair, you guide her head up and down, easing her into it. Your free hand pumping what she can’t fit in her mouth, the spit dripping past her lips acting as a lubricant.

Lorcan’s hand find your cheek, turning your attention to him, he’s smirking, “Such a good girl, helping her suck my cock like a champ.” He praises between groans of pleasure. His thumb flicks over your lips and you hum, nipping at him before looking back to Elide. She’s staring at you, need for reassurance in her eyes. She’s sputtering and gagging slightly. Aroused and overthinking.

“Easy, baby, just breathe. You’re doing so well,” you tell her, watching the tears line her eyes as Lorcan’s cock bumps the back of her throat. “Don’t think, just feel, okay? Gonna help you do just that.” Releasing your hold on Lorcan’s length, you hand dips down between her legs. She practically drips onto your fingers with how turned on she is. It’s one of the things you love about Elide…she always gets so wet. Two of your fingers slip between her fold, collecting her slick before burying inside of her. Elide moans loudly around Lorcan’s cock, the vibrations dragging a similar noise from him.

Steadily moving your fingers within her, you lean closer, “Look at Lorcan, baby. Let him see how pretty you look like this.” She does as you say, lust filled eyes blinking up at the male. You place your mouth back on Lorcan, sucking on the heavy sack at the base of his cock while Elide takes control of his length. You’re watching her, seeing that as she gets lost in the pleasure your fingers are giving her, she becomes more confident. Barely needing your guidance. You pause every so often to praise Elide as she whimpers and whines on Lorcan’s cock, letting her know she’s doing great, calling her a good girl, telling her she can cum when she needs to.

All while Lorcan is a moaning, groaning, growling mess above you both. Drawing closer to the impending high you and Elide are building. His abdomen flexes and ripples, you can almost see the coil winding tighter and tighter beneath his skin. He sobs out a groan, “M’not gonna last much long if you two keep that up. Feels too fucking good, shit.” Yet that’s exactly what you and Elide want.

Phew…well i’m horny now

All while Lorcan is a moaning, groaning, growling mess above you both. Drawing closer to the impending climax you and Elide are building. His stomach flexes and ripples, you can almost see the coil winding tighter and tighter inside him. He sobs out a groan, “M’not gonna last much longer if you two keep that up.” But that’s exactly what you both want.

[hamsterboos]

Drive

Word Count: 212 AU: Modern Read on AO3 here Masterlist

It had been a long, exhausting day, and Rowan was grumpy and tired. He just wanted to go home and just go straight to bed, but unfortunately, he was an adult. Therefore, he had adult things that needed to get done such as cooking dinner and eating it, folding the laundry that had been sitting in the dryer for two days now, and actually responding to text messages that he hadn’t answered for about fifteen hours now.

He was just tempted to go and pick up takeout on his way home instead of actually spending the time and energy in cooking. As Rowan considered his options at a red light, he just happened to look over at the car on his right for a moment before turning back to look straight ahead.

Until Rowan processed exactly what he had seen.

He turned his head back around to find his neighbor, Aelin, banging her head and jamming to whatever was playing in her car. She must’ve felt him staring because she turned to look at him, and while still dancing in her car, waved hello to him before making a right turn as the light turned green.

By the time he got home with his takeout, there was a smile on his face.

~~~~

I'm glad everyone's enjoying these :) pls lemme know if you want to be added to the taglist

Taglist: @thegreyj @backtobl4ck @leiawritesstories

[theladyofdeath]

Elide and Lorcan having an angsty fight. And when they see eachother again they're standing under a mistletoe. Maybe they make up or maybe they don't who knows.

I never asked a prompt before... I Just really want to read some Elorcan so this is the first thing that popped in my mind😅

A/N: I love this prompt! I hope you enjoy this drabble and had an amazing holiday season! x

T/W: language

A winter storm was brewing outside, but inside of Elide and Lorcan’s living room, a holiday party was thriving.

It was difficult to plan and throw a party when you’re hardly speaking to your significant other…which Lorcan hadn’t in nearly two days. Every time he passed his fiancé, they barely acknowledged one another.

Their fight had been the worst one yet. Although both of them were stubborn, Lorcan’s temper was a little harsher than Elide’s. He knew it was a character flaw, but he was too stubborn to work on it. When he got angry, he didn’t want to fix it, he just wanted to stay pissed off.

And he had stayed pissed off for two days.

It didn't stop them from hosting their Christmas party. It didn't stop Elide from cooking all day, and it didn't stop Lorcan from cleaning the house to perfection. He always cleaned better when he was pissed the hell off. He was an angry-scrubber.

Although their friends seemed to be having a great time, the tension between the two of them was evident. Aside from lingering glares, Lorcan hadn't bothered to say a word to Elide, and she didn't bother saying a word to him.

It was ridiculous.

He knew it.

And he didn't care.

Planning a wedding was stressful.

It was even more stressful when a date could not be set.

Lorcan asked Elide to marry him a year ago. Last Christmas, he had gotten down on one knee and popped the question. When she had said yes, it had been the greatest moment of his life. Every hardship he had endured didn't seem so bad, because they had led him to her, to her saying yes to becoming his wife.

But even a year later, Elide didn't want to set a date.

Lorcan didn't get it. He didn't understand it. He knew that Elide loved him, which only made him that much more confused on why she couldn't settle on a day to marry him, to take that final step. It confused him so much that he picked a fight, had started yelling at her and acting a fool when he asked her about setting a date again, and she said that she didn't know.

Their fight had ended with Lorcan saying the awful words: Then maybe we shouldn't even get married.

Since those words left his mouth, silence was all that laid between them.

Now, the room around Lorcan was filled with holiday cheer but he felt none of it. Every minute that passed with that tension between them just felt off, awful, not right.

Lorcan lifted his glass to his lips only to find it empty. He hadn't even realized he'd been drinking that often, but he supposed that misery loved company, and whiskey was the best company of all.

Pushing himself off the wall by Fenrys and Connall, who were bickering about something ridiculous, Lorcan strode to the kitchen with his empty glass.

And nearly ran directly into Elide.

The thing about Elide Lochan was if she was in a crowd of people, you probably wouldn't be seeing her right away, considering Lorcan had almost two feet on her. So when she came around the corner of the kitchen with her own recently filled wine glass, he had barely stopped himself before his shirt had a big red stain on it.

They both froze and stared at one another.

Lorcan cleared his throat. "Sorry."

Elide gave him a nod, her lips in a straight line.

"It's about time you two lovebirds were caught under the mistletoe."

The fucking mistletoe.

Lorcan had nearly forgotten about it until they both looked up and, surely enough, they stood underneath the neatly trimmed and hung greenery.

A sigh left him as he looked back down at Elide, who shrugged and, with a roll of her dark eyes, rose on her toes.

Lorcan leaned down and kissed her, softly. It was nothing more than a peck on the lips, but the second their mouths touched, Lorcan tasted the wine and cherry chapstick. Their kiss deepened, as every kiss that had ever occurred between the two of them had. It was something that should have only lasted a second but lasted much longer as they melted into one another.

When that kiss finally broke, they didn't part too far from one another. Lorcan brushed her hair behind her ear and shook his head. "I'm sorry."

Elide's eyes softened. "No, I'm sorry. You have every right to be frustrated with me. I just know that as soon as we set a date, the wedding planning is going to be so stressful, and I never imagined that I'd be getting married without my parents there-"

"Hey," Lorcan breathed, lifting her chin so that she met his gaze. "You don't need to explain."

"Yes, I do," she whispered, "because I don't want you thinking that I don't want to marry you. I do. Of course, I do. I love you. So much."

"I know," he said, taking her hand. "I love you, too, and we'll set a date when we set a date. As long as you're here every morning when I wake up and every night when I go to bed, that's all that matters to me."

Elide's lips slowly twisted into a small smile. "Such a softie."

"Mhmm," he said, eyes narrowing as they always did when she would tell him how romantic he was being. He kissed her, once more. "Don't tell anybody."

"Your secret is safe with me."

"Good."

Using his empty glass as an excuse, Lorcan pulled Elide into the kitchen with him and kissed her again and again, considering he had two days worth to make up for.

Sometimes he scolded himself for being so stubborn and for falling in love with such a stubborn woman. Yet, every time they fought, they sure as hell knew how to make up.

[shallyne]

Malide please

Just finished my Malide fic for crackshipmonth, here you go:

Elide looked at Manon. At her white hair, the tank top she wore only when she was about to hit the gym and the golden eyes that were fixed on Elide, who looked back at the TV and slumped farther into her pillows. "Leave."

That only seemed to make Manon more sure of staying. "You're pathetic! Look at you! That stain on your shirt is three days old."

"It's two days old!" Elide replied. "What do you care?"

She ignored Elide's question. "You're doing this," she waved her hand at Elide, "Because of a man?" She almost laughed at Manon's disgusted expression. "He was a dick anyways, you should be glad that he dumped you."