Forever my fave part of heir of fire is Rowan saying that Aelin will be staying in his bed for one night only and that she'll be sleeping in a cot afterwards.....but that just doesn't happen and they just share a bed for the rest of the series lmao
throne of glass twitter/instagram/influencers fic? love your work!!💞
🥰🥰🥰 awwwww thank you!! i LOVE this concept omg let's see what the brain decides to crank out...
word count: ~1k
warnings: none?
enjoy!!
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Aelin threw her hands into the air in exasperation. "What do you mean, my numbers are dropping? I've been watching the charts myself, I'm not an idiot." She quieted for a moment, listening to the person on the other end of the call. "Yes, Lys, I know my content hasn't changed in a while. The hell do you want me to do about that?"
"Shake shit up, Ae," Lysandra returned. The sharp-tongued woman had been Aelin's manager for almost four years now, and while Aelin was indebted to Lys's expertise, she wasn't afraid to call her out on what she gracefully called her "buzzword bullshit."
"And just what brilliant thing are you going to suggest that I do to 'shake shit up,' my dear and very wise manager?" Aelin drawled.
Lys snorted a laugh. "I think it's time for a boyfriend reveal."
"Absolutely not. You know how Rowan feels about being on my social media. I'm not going to violate his trust like that."
"I'm not saying it has to be a full reveal," Lys clarified. "I just think you should consider posting some kind of reveal that you, the famously single power woman who only loves her book boyfriends, has a special someone in her life."
Aelin considered her manager's idea. "That's....well, that's not as terrible as some of your ideas have been." She chuckled at Lys's playful scoff. "I'll talk to Rowan, see what he thinks. Bye!" She waited for Lys to say goodbye and then ended the call and flung her phone across the room, landing it on her plush, pale grey sofa.
Rowan strolled out from the office, where he'd probably been watching her animated phone call through the glass doors. "What's wrong, love?"
"Fuckin' everything," she grumbled.
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to his chest in comfort. "What specifically has you all frustrated, Ae?"
"You're too perceptive," she huffed, but a half smile curled her lips. "I... Lys told me my engagement numbers are flattening, and I love my audience and don't want them to be bored with me." She blew out a sigh. "Lys thinks I should do some kind of relationship reveal, because that shit spikes numbers like crazy."
"Do you think it's a good idea?" Rowan sat down on the couch, tugging Aelin with him.
"As an idea? Yeah, it's a great idea, and it's worked for literally every other influencer who's every posted about their relationships." She twisted the ring around her left middle finger. "As an idea for me? I'm not so sure. I won't make you do anything you're not interested in doing, and I know how you feel about being on my pages."
"What if I agreed?"
Aelin's jaw dropped. She pulled away from Rowan's side and faced him, her stunned gaze scanning his face for any sign that this was some kind of prank. "What?!"
He chuckled. "Let me explain. Yes, I heard you and Lys on the phone, but you knew that." She laughed softly and nodded. "Here's the thing. I don't want my image to be splashed all over the internet. However, if you're willing to agree, I'm okay with little pieces of us being out there."
She raised a brow. "Can you explain what you mean by 'little pieces of us?'"
"Like this." He grabbed her phone, swiped to the camera, and took a photo of their shoes lined up by the front door. "Little things--bits of our home but definitely not all of it, things like a close-up of our hands or matching outfits or something. Basically, I don't want my whole self in photos that you post, but I'm okay with the world knowing that you're mine."
"So possessive," she teased. She settled back down onto the couch, took her phone from his hand, opened to her notes app, and started typing ideas. "I'm honestly a little uncertain that I'm not dreaming, but yes, I agree to your terms."
"So formal," he teased, poking her in the side.
She yelped and scooted away from his wicked fingers. "Ro!" He grinned and held up his hands in surrender, and she relaxed. "You're absolutely sure about this?"
"I am." He laced his tattooed fingers with her ringed ones, stroking his callused thumb over her knuckles. "Call me a caveman all you want, but I'm ready to tell the world you're mine."
"Caveman," she snickered. Swiftly, almost without thinking, she picked up her phone, swiped to the camera, and captured a few different photos of her and Rowan's intertwined fingers, the aesthetically pleasing contrast of his tan, tattooed skin against her pale, silver-ringed fingers and manicured nails. Humming with satisfaction, she showed him her favorite photo. "What do you think?"
He swept a brief, appraising glance over the picture on her phone. "I think it's perfect." Smoothly, he rolled them over so she was half-sprawled on the couch and his arms were caging her in in the best possible way. "Why don't you go ahead and post it, and then we'll see how long I can keep you from checking your notifications?"
"Are you calling me addicted?" Aelin faked a dramatic gasp. "Why, how could you?"
Rowan chuckled. "Hardly, love. I'm just remarking that you're always glued to your phone right after you post, and I can think of a few ways to keep you...relaxed."
She smirked in that slow way that always set his blood afire. "What if I don't want to relax?"
"Then I'll wear you out."
Heat raced between her legs. "Rowan?"
"Hmm?" His hand--which had been inching steadily up her thigh--stilled. "Talk to me, love."
She exhaled deeply. "I...I need you to tell me yes one more time before I post this."
Quietly, firmly, Rowan reached over, locked his steady emerald eyes on her, and tapped the post button with his own finger.
Swiftly, Aelin put her phone on "do not disturb," turned off the screen, and tossed it onto the side table. "Ro?"
"Yes?"
Taking his hand, she settled it squarely between her legs. "I'm stressed about that post, love. I want to relax."
"That's my good girl," he murmured into her neck.
Then he stood, lifted her effortlessly into his arms, strode down the hallway to their bedroom, and kicked the door shut with a resounding slam.
Hello everyone!!! Long time no see!!! It's been eleven months!!!!! since I last wrote anything. I hated the fact that I missed last years rowaelin month and was determined to write something for this years rowaelin month (and a special thank you to @goddess-aelin for her lovely note saying she missed my work <3)
And thanks to the lovely people that run rowaelin month!!! you are all amazing!!! @rowaelinscourt
Apologies in advance if my writing and grammar and characterisation is a little rusty, like I said, it's been eleven months since I last wrote anything and I'm slowly getting through my ToG re-read (which has really opened my eyes to how traumatised Aelin is as a person/character).
Words: 800+. CW: none, I don't think.
Day 18- Aelin and Rowan's hawk form.
It was two AM and Aelin was out, wondering the dark city streets of Orynth, looking for the right building.
Instead of using the castle's obstacle course like most sane people would, Aelin decided that she needed to do this the way she was trained too—by scaling the side of buildings, using every muscle in her body to pull herself up to reach the top of the building, to run across the rooftops to get closer to her target.
She needed the reminder that she could—and that she hadn't lost her edge.
Although, she was sure she had lost it. She did still train, from magic to weapons to hand-to-hand combat, she did whichever she was in the mood for with what free time she had, but as Queen and mother to five children, she had no need to scale buildings and jump from rooftop to rooftop.
So she had decided, as she ate her dinner with her family, she was going to relive her past life; if only for a couple of hours.
Aelin walked through one more street before she found a good starting point—a shoe store that she did frequent with Rowan and their children. It was two storeys tall and she knew that no one occupied the apartment above the shop so no one would see her.
Hopefully no one would hear her either.
Stretching before climbing, Aelin told herself that it would be fine. She had given birth to five children, all without pain relieving herbs, she could—would—scale this building with ease.
Finding her footing was easy enough, so Aelin started her trek—and thankfully didn't fall off, although she did slid time a few times and had to grit her teeth to stop her cursing from echoing around town.
The burning in her muscles took her back to how she used to be, how she used to be able to demand any contract and fat coin purse she desired.
She didn't miss that life, not at all, but it was part of who she was and she was not ashamed of it.
Taking one last gulping breath, Aelin hoisted herself over the roofs ledge and let the accomplishment rush through her.
So determined she was in proving herself that she could still do this, she hadn't been aware that she had a follower.
A follower that now clicked his beak at her.
Aelin's head snapped upwards, taking in her mate's large hawk-form as he perched on the chimney.
“You were asleep when I left,” was all Aelin could think of to say.
Rowan clicked his beak again, as if to say And now I'm awake.
“Clearly,” Aelin said, “how'd I go from your end?”
She waited for him to shift back but he didn't. He wasn't mad at her, she knew that much, but she didn't want anyone to see her talking to her mate like this—it felt too intimate to be like this in public, but after two decades together, Aelin could converse with Rowan in his hawk form as easily as she could talk to him in his Fae form.
Rowan didn't say anything but flew to the building next to her. He clicked his beak. You can climb well enough, let's see how you can jump.
Aelin moved to the ledge, looking down to the ground, if she didn't make it, she wouldn't die, but she'd probably be bruised all over.
She looked at Rowan, who was waiting patiently. “Will you nurse me back to health if I fall?” she asked, batting her eyelashes at her husband, who rolled his eyes.
“That better be a yes,” she said and moved back to take a running jump.
Gods, if she fell, she'd never get over the embarrassment.
Aelin ran and jumped—and just made it. She hit her chin hard enough that when she made it over the ledge of the building, she laid down and stared at the open night sky.
A flash of light brighter than the moon came and went, and then there was Rowan, taking her in.
“Fireheart,” he said, his voice deep and concerned. “Are you alright?”
“I'm fine,” Aelin said, her chin sore but she would live. She eyed her mate up and down, however, and said, “But I would still appreciate being nursed back to health—especially if you take your shirt off.”
Rowan rolled his eyes again, but obliged her, his shirt coming off in one easy movement that had her contemplate making a sixth baby.
“Where does it hurt, milady?” her king-consort asked, his rough fingers moving across her collarbone.
“Here,” she said, pointing to her chin, and soon she was better, especially as she chased Rowan around in his hawk form, easily jumping from roof to roof as the hours went by.
“She looked at Rowan, who was waiting patiently. “Will you nurse me back to health if I fall?” she asked, batting her eyelashes at her husband, who rolled his eyes.” 😆 Ahhhh I just love them too much. This is so good, thanks for writing this 😊
Thanks for the wonderful prompt!! Sorry it took me so long to get to this but I thought it was perfect for Rowaelin Month! This is for day 13: babies/kids/next gen
@rowaelinscourt
Masterlist
Word count: 1k
Warnings: none!
Aelin always took his breath away. Always. It was an undeniable fact. The grass was green, the sky was blue, Aelin took his breath away. But standing in their kitchen, getting ready for a night out with her Lysandra and Elide, she took more than his breath, she took his whole godsdamned soul.
Standing by the counter trying to get an earring in, her tight, black dress glittered slightly in the low lights. He sucked in a breath when she turned, exposing the back, or lack thereof, to him.
“Are you sure you have to go out?”
She chuckled. “I will remind you that you were the one who told me to go out, Buzzard.”
He smirked as he sidled up beside her, pulling her to his chest. “Did I? I don’t ever remember saying that. In fact, I think I told you that you should stay home, right here with me where no one else can see this dress.” He accented each of his last words with a kiss to her cheeks, her nose, her neck.
A tiny wail broke them out of their reverie. Ah, yes, the reason that Aelin needed to get away in the first place.
At 8 months old, Alma was still in the fussy stage, especially because she had just started teething. But Rowan wouldn’t have it any other way. She was a perfect blend of both of them, her green eyes enrapturing Rowan from the moment he saw her and her fiery personality already showing through, likely from her mother.
Aelin hadn’t had a night out since Alma was born. Sure, they went to restaurants for a an hour or two, just the two of them. But she needed time with her girls, Rowan knew. Aelin would never ask for it, feeling as though she was being a bad mother or somehow putting more work onto him. So he secretly texted Lysandra to set up a night out for Aelin. And when Aelin was reluctant to go, he encouraged her that she needed a night out. Eventually, she relented and admitted that it would be nice to go out for a change.
So here they were, Rowan taking care of Alma while his wife stood in the kitchen, looking like the sexiest MILF he’d ever seen. When he told her as much, she just threw her head back and laughed, the sound igniting his bones in a way only she could. He loved her so much and was happy that she was going to enjoy a night out. His Fireheart.
- - - - -
When Aelin got home at 11pm, she expected Rowan to be in bed and Alma to be snoozing soundly. She stopped in her tracks when she beheld what she found instead. Rowan. In the Kitchen. Wearing their baby.
It was enough for tears to pop into the corners of her eyes. Fine, perhaps she had a little bit to drink. But these tears were happy tears. Ones that sprout from the joy of seeing their little family.
But as the tears dried, a different, headier feeling ignited in her belly. Gods, who gave him the right to be so Godsdamned sexy? His hair was skewed all over, giving him a rumpled look that made her toes curl. He was wearing simple pajama pants and…nothing else. Well, except for the baby strapped to his bare chest. And Gods, did it do things to her.
He finally noticed her standing in the doorway, giving her a sleepy smile. “Hey, Fireheart. Did you have a good time?”
“Mhmm.” She knew her eyes were slightly glazed. But who could blame her? She was slightly distracted.
“Feelin’ pretty good, huh?” He chuckled.
She just giggled and crossed to where he stood in front of the oven. “What exactly are you doing wearing our baby and…” she sniffed the air. “Baking?”
Rowan’s hand came around her, pulling her into his side while his other hand rested on Alma’s back. “Well, I know how snacky you get when you drink and Alma wasn’t sleeping so we decided to bake some cookies.” He looked down to Alma’s chubby, smiling face, rubbing his nose with hers. “Didn’t we, Alms?” The tiny girl giggled and squirmed, flailing her arms and legs uncontrollably.
Aelin could physically feel her heart turning to mush.
“Why don’t you go get changed and the cookies should be done by then?”
Aelin nodded but lingered a few seconds longer, just staring at her little family.
Rowan gave her a bewildered look, furrowing his eyebrows in a way that was comically similar to Alma. “What is it? Do I have flour on my face?”
Aelin couldn't help the loud laugh that escaped. “No, Buzzard. I just…” She sighed happily. “I just love you.” She strode the few steps back to him and allowed herself to be pulled into a tight embrace, Alma sandwiched between them. The little girl didn’t seem to mind if her heavy eyelids were anything to go by, having been lulled to sleep by a sense of security and love.
“I love you, too, Fireheart,” Rowan whispered. He gave a quick peck to her lips and went to turn back to the cookies.
But before he turned, Aelin caught his arm, leaning up toward his ear. “And this whole shirtless while wearing our baby thing? Incredibly hot.” As she backed away from him, her gaze turned half-lidded. To Rowan’s credit, he didn’t break eye contact with her until she reached the stairs.
It wasn’t long before she heard the heavy footsteps trailing up the stairs behind her, hurrying to put Alma down and then making their way closer to her, probably more quickly than he had moved in a while. She stifled her giggle. Rowan would never cease to make her heart flutter and her belly to ignite. But the best thing was how full she felt when she thought of their perfect little family.
A/N: I adore rowaelin as parents 🥹 thanks again for the prompt!
