AU where you and Azriel are mates, but after being a toy under the mountain for the last 50 years, you were scared to cross the line. Until one night you wake from a nightmare in Azriel's arms.
Warnings: Fluff/ Smut, Dry humping, orgasm(s), slight mention of SA from reader experience (no detail) Azriel is sickeningly sweet and I wish he were mine :(
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You had been back a while now, but it hadn’t been long enough for things to feel normal. Things to feel right. You had gone under the mountain with Rhys to help him. Being part of the inner circle and one of his most trusted, he took you there to make sure the job was done. You both knew the risks but went anyway. What you didn’t expect was what occurred; you never thought you could feel so powerless, and yet all those years under the mountain took something you couldn’t quite get back. It had ripped some space in you that now had been replaced by a timid, unsure girl. You were once confident and happy, causing a roar across Velaris and the rest of the inner circle. Sharing special glances with Azriel, but it never being anymore.
You were strong. And then that ended.
You had needed to give yourself to people under there; your body had become something that wasn’t yours anymore. Not in the same way anyway. A combination of horrors forced upon you, and having to conduct your own torture on other people to maintain that cruel composure all those years, ripped something from you.
And as a reward for your suffering, the moment you returned after so long away. The bond clicked. The first time you and Azriel saw each other after all that time, he looked at you like you weren’t worthless. Like you were his whole world, and he had just woken up. You were mates, and you were supposed to be happy. But the world has a tricky way of working, and all you felt through those motions was a sinking feeling of not being enough. Not being deserving of the way he now looked at you. You and Rhys had both done what was needed to survive under that mountain. And now you had to live with yourself, but you just couldn’t.
However, Az wasn’t one to give up. After months of coaxing and patience, you had finally started to build something. Now sharing a bed together in the house of wind. You did love him, too much, but the idea of intimacy scared you. What if he saw every part of you and rejected the bond? What if he finally saw you for how you viewed yourself? What if you remembered those years?
And yet.. that desire still leaked in. It consumed you; you couldn’t look at your mate without drooling. You needed him more than you cared to admit, but you still managed to push him away mostly. Your fears overtaking any instinctual need. That was until tonight, when you awoke screaming and gasping. Nights that were so rare now since you and Azriel always stayed together. Cradling you with those mighty wings whenever the horrors under the mountain called your name on the wind. You had screamed so loud that Azriel could have sworn the house rocked, had Rhys calling Azriel mind to mind to check everything was okay, to which he quickly reassured him it was just another nightmare.
“Shhh, breath baby. Breath” Azriel hushed into your hair as his arms wrapped around you and pulled you in close. A single wing falling over you whilst you sobbed into his chest. “You’re safe, you’re not there. We’re here in Velaris, we’re safe, I promise.” His words soothed you, but made you sob harder. You had made it out. You were here with your mate, and you were safe.
But you didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve this. Azriels shadows ran soothing strokes on your arms as he pulled you to sit up, needing you to practice the breathing techniques he always had you do. “Do you want to talk about?” Azriel asked as you started to take deeper breaths, his soothing strokes and the single wing still arched around you, allowing you to feel safe.
“I-I just, it was awful. I had to torture someone for Amarantha, or she would have done something worse; she wan-ted to hurt Nuala and Cerridwen.”
Azriel now sat next to you, watching you. His hands were everywhere they could be, bringing you back to earth in the only way he knew would reach you. “I had no choice, I don’t deserve us. I don’t deserve any of this. I am worthless, I am nothing. ”
“Fuck no, gods Y/N. Is that what you really believe?” Azriel asked as his shadows ran to your face to wipe away tears. Almost in agreement with Az, disbelief that you could ever think yourself so unworthy. Azriel looked at his scarred hands before pulling you into his lap. Those same hands running over your arms and back as he pulled you closer.
“You have seen every part of me baby, and not baulked from it. Not ran away or ever looked at me with any sort of disgust or fear. I have done many things I am not proud of, and I wish I could take them back. But I did it because it was necessary. You were protecting your court, and you did what you needed to do.” Azriel took a breath and slid his hand under your jaw. Pulling your face to really look at him.
“We cannot run from what controls us; we have to work through it and trust we will come out on the other side. Don’t let them win by letting this consume you.”
You only welled up further at Azriel's kind words, them breaking a dam in you of everything you had felt over the last few months. Your head fell again as you tried to hide the tears that fell, not in shame this time but realisation. Enough was enough, and you needed to fight back, needed to do more. You needed more.
Your gaze flicked up from where your head had hung low in your lap, where your hands rested just above Azriel's happy trial. You brushed his abs slightly with your fingers before looking at him entirely, seeing the small smirk on his face. Something else flickered in his eyes, and you realised it was pride. Pride in you, his mate, for some silent conversation you both had just had. Where, for the first time, you were breathing on your own. For the first time, you had finally confessed what had lain in your heart since those horrible years. And he had not run; he had not left. He was still here with you.
You flicked your eyes down to his lips more than you cared to admit. This understanding had brought you closer somehow, and Azriel was so damn in love with you. He had loved you before the bond snapped, had seen every side of you and wanted you, needed you. And he had been patient; he had waited 500 years for his mate to appear. He could wait another 500 to be intimate if it meant waiting for you to be ready.
And then you pulled his head down to meet your lips in a desperate kiss that surprised him. To take back some power from this night. He was your mate, and you deserved his love. Deserved his kisses and touches. All thoughts left Azriel's head as you shifted in his lap, his hands betraying him to grab your hips and pull you closer. He had wanted to be respectful of you, unsure of how far you were willing to take this. He didn't want to get ahead of himself, but it seemed his body was doing exactly that as he felt his cock grow hard underneath the thin sleep pants. A scrap of fabric lay between you both, and his body was too aware of it all. He tried to push your hips back slightly to ease the distance. But you deepened the kiss in that moment, and his hands gripped your hips tighter, intending to move you away from his embarrassingly growing problem, when a delightful moan fell from your lips between kisses. Your body feeling the brush of something under your core, the sensations setting you on fire as each shift had your body instinctively grinding down further. Finding that hard surface and rolling against it, you weren’t even really aware you were doing it. Too wrapped up in the kiss and touches. You had been with people before, and you weren’t a virgin. But everything that had happened had made you question yourself. One girl had gone into the mountain, and a different one had come out.
A moan falling from Azriels lips at a particularly deep angle of your hips had you finally breaking that trance you had been in with your mate. You broke the kiss with a small gasp as both of you lay breathless and staring at each other. Az hands froze on your hips, waiting on your next move. Not wanting to push you into anything. You glanced down and shifted slightly, seeing the damp spot that now lay on Azriels sleep pants. The thick outline of his hard cock had your mouth going dry. Cauldron, he was big.
The movement had Az’s hands tightening on your hips, his head falling to your shoulder. “Jesus Y/N, you have no idea what you do to me.” A quiet huff left your lips as you said, “I have an idea..”
Azriel laughed into your shoulder again as he began to lay kisses across them, and then your collar bones. The sensations making your eyes flutter. You wanted to give him something more than the past few months. Wanted to feel him. So you ground your hips again as you looked at him, and then again and again. Azriel groaned deeply. Unable to contain himself as the feeling of your core so close against him. His hands once again pulled your hips closer to him, his member now pressing entirely up to where you ached for him. You knew that damp spot had come from you and tried your best not to think about it, or cringe away as it only grew. Your wetness pooling out through your loose sleep shorts with nothing else underneath. Moans fell from your own mouth as something you remembered as pleasure started to bloom in you. A feeling you hadn't felt in fifty years.
Azriel was sure he was dreaming, his mate was on top of him. Practically riding him, with just a few bits of fabric between you both. He felt like he could cum right there, had nearly came in his pants on that first delicious swirl of your hips. He didn’t know what to do, he felt like a teenager again. Experiencing it all for the first time. He couldn’t quite compose his thoughts as he felt your wetness seep through his pants, felt your hips increase pace as a blush brushed your cheeks. Your light breaths tickling his neck as he began to move your hips for you when they started to stutter. Lips grazing and nipping at your neck without restraint, Azriel blushed at the noises coming from his mouth, but it only seemed to rile you further as you bit your lip to clamp down your own pleasure.
A quiet “Fuck, ugh” escaped your lips, and he was gone. His hips also began to stutter as he ran his hands over your back. He moved a questioning hand to under your breasts, before finding your eyes. Studying your face for any hesitation, and when you gave a nod, he was kneading them, tugging lightly on a perked nipple through your satin top. “A-Az,” you whined as his lips found yours again. Kissing you through it all as your core clenched around nothing. Desperate for more, pushing yourself down against his aching cock.
“Fuck say my name again,” Azriel couldn’t help himself as he moaned, and his head dipped to watch your hips stutter and grind against him.
“Az- Azriel” you moaned into his neck as his hands were everywhere. Your back, your ass, your hair. And his shadows ran cold trails along your thighs, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “I know, fuck-baby. I know. Are you going to cum for me?”
And you nodded your head into his neck, unable to say any words as that cord went tight as a bow, and you panted again. Azriel didn't know how he was holding out. If he actually were a teenager, he would’ve been done for a long time ago. And all it took was the feel of your teeth on his neck as your own high peaked, and Azriel was cumming with a deep grunt. His cock twitching as cum drenched his sleep pants, the wetness seeping through to your core as you rode the hard ridges of his cock through your own rippling orgasm. You whined as your core twitched again and again, and Azriel hissed as he resisted the urge to still your hips from the overstimulation. Letting you take what you needed from him, as he made a silent vow to always do.
You both came down from your highs as your head flopped to his broad shoulder. Az leaving light kisses on any exposed skin and on the top of your messy hair. Reality set in as you managed to calm your breath, and you felt mortified at what had just occurred, but Azriel caught the thought before it could transpire. Taking you into a kiss that took your breath away and had your blood heating all over again.
“I may need a few minutes..” Azriel said against your lips as you let out a nervous laugh. “Are you a mind reader?” You asked in disbelief at how well he could read your thoughts. “They don’t call me the spymaster for nothing,” he said with a shy smile. You shook your head as his touch became tender again, kissing away any sort of embarrassment. “I haven’t done anything like this in so long..” you whispered to yourself, and Azriel.
“I know, sweetheart. But we can figure it out together. I’m here for you no matter what. We take it day by day. Whenever you’re ready. ” Your heart bloomed as you felt all that love run down the bond. Finally allowing it to seep into you as you pushed your own feelings through to him for the first time. Azriel closed his eyes as he shuddered, a smile of pure content gracing his lips. “I hope I never get used to that,”
You beamed at him as you took in the state of you both. That need already growing again, but sleep called for you both. Azriel left a light kiss on your brow, a promise to always be there, no matter what.
Summary: Feeling that there's no future for you in Orynth, you attempt to leave in the middle of the night.
Warnings: mild angst
Words: ~2.1k
Author's Note: eeee day 1 is here! I'm so excited for the rest of this week, and I hope you all are too! This is written for Day 1 of @sjmromanceweek. Enjoy and let me know what you think! ☺️
18+ only pls
💚🩵🤍🩵💚
You were a fool. A complete and utter fool.
Nearly a year of pining after Aelin and Rowan, your Queen and King, had led to nothing.
Nothing but one night, months ago in a packed inn when you’d been nestled between them after hours of making you feel pleasure like never before.
Since that night, you’d kept a small flame of hope alive that Aelin had meant that they wanted you, to be with you. They’d asked you to take a room in the castle, only a few minutes walk separating you from their personal tower. Aelin had mention something about saving you the time of fighting the now busy streets of Orynth to reach the castle greenhouses each morning as her reasoning for offering the room, when you had a perfectly comfortable cottage of your own inside the city walls. And you’d continued to visit other towns and cities to help with the ongoing rebuilding efforts, still just the three of you, your magic speeding along fields of wheat, ripening entire rows of tomato plants to perfection as your Queen and King saw to any other needs their citizens might have.
But you’d not shared a room again, no twist of fate forcing the opportunity once more, or the married couple simply asking you to join them. It was glaringly obvious to you now that there was no reason to keep hoping, and that you needed to leave your foolish feelings behind before you were hurt further. Yet… you couldn’t manage to tear your eyes away from their place on the dance floor.
Winter Solstice was here, and a ball had been planned to celebrate the first free winter of Terrasen. You’d tried and tried to keep your eyes from wandering to them, whether they were on their thrones or mingling with the crowd, but you failed all night. And now they were dancing, each movement followed by sparks of Aelin’s fire, sending your mind straight back to the night you’d had with them.
The two of them together were perfect, bodies full of grace and sharp personalities, souls that had intertwined completely, near immortal and everything you’d ever wanted. And you…
You were mortal. Skilled with the plant magic you wielded, but nothing else that would impress anyone, or make you vital to their kingdom. Aelin had called you pretty, but you were nothing compared to her own beauty.
Tonight would be the perfect time to make your escape, to find a town or city that would welcome you, to run away from the feelings that rushed through you at the mere thought of Rowan and Aelin. You’d planned to leave already if the conditions were right, but… you wanted to see them, one last time.
And now that you had, it was time to grab your things from your room in the castle, then from your cottage in town.
You calmly made your way to the entrance of the great hall, taking one last glance at the couple you’d fallen too deeply for when they were completely off-limits. Rowan dipped Aelin in his arms as the song ended, kissing her deeply before pulling her back into a standing position.
A sigh, and then you were gone.
The stairs up to your room were uncomfortable in heels, but you made your way up and back down in under fifteen minutes. Laughter and music poured from the great hall as you passed through a hallway nearby. It was easy enough to slip out the castle doors and through the streets of Orynth to your house, dodging revelers who’d had a bit too much to drink as you did.
Familiar wooden walls greeted you as you shivered in the cold of your house, but you didn’t bother lighting a fire in the fireplace seeing as you’d be long gone in a few minutes. A match lit two candles on your living room table, lighting the room well enough. You sat to remove the heeled boots you’d worn tonight and warmed your toes between your hands, the soft fur lining not enough to stave away the chills that Terrasen’s winters brought.
You reached for your socks, only to pat around on the couch and realize that you hadn’t grabbed a pair of socks, and you rolled your eyes at yourself. A hiss left your lips at the biting cold of the wood floors beneath your feet as you darted to your bedroom, sitting on your bed to tug the wool socks on, and then another pair for good measure. There may be a merchant’s carriage waiting to take you to Rosamel, but the journey would be long and freezing. No use in risking your toes when you had plenty of socks to bring with you.
Your hands set to packing the two other bags you could bring with you, stuffing in as many clothes as you could while your mind wandered, worries piling on one after the other. What if the Lord of Rosamel turned you away? What if you were allowed in, but couldn’t find housing? What if-
An insistent knocking on your front door snapped you out of your thoughts, annoyance flitting through you.
Who would come calling for you at midnight?
You thought about ignoring whoever was at the door, likely a confused drunkard, until the knocking turned to pounding.
“Y/N, please let us in,” a voice called, muffled but familiar. If Aelin was here…
The door swung open, revealing your Queen and King who looked panicked, if that was even possible. “I… What are you doing here?”
“The better question is what are you doing here, Y/N?” Rowan growled before prowling past you, opening each door and checking each room as if he was searching for someone.
Aelin’s hands grabbed one of yours, her warmth chasing away the chill that had settled into your bones. “Why did you take your things from the castle, Y/N? I thought you liked staying there…” Her voice was soft, softer than you’d heard it since that night.
“I did, but I-”
“Why are your bags packed?” Rowan asked after emerging from your bedroom, a furious look on his face. “You were going to leave in the middle of the night, just like that?”
Your heart stuttered as fear swept over you, doubling in intensity when you saw a matching look on Aelin’s face. “I- I didn’t want-”
“What, Y/N? You didn’t want to say goodbye before leaving for some incredibly urgent reason, or you didn’t want us?” The last word was said with such pain, the emotion reflected in Aelin’s eyes. You could hardly breathe as she pinned you to the spot with her stare, the gold in her eyes shining in the candlelight. “Which is it?”
“I…” You couldn’t break her stare, couldn’t escape the want that flooded you whenever you were near them, couldn’t help the tears that fell from your eyes. You didn’t want to confess, but it was the only way that they would let you go. “I want you too much,” you whispered into the space that separated you, resisting the urge to look at Rowan, see the disgust that was likely building in his eyes. “I’ve always wanted you too much, in the wrong way when I knew that you were married, mates.” Your voice cracked on the last word, the knowledge that you could never compete with a bond like that having already shredded your soul long before tonight. “I think- I think I love both of you, but I need to leave Orynth. I can’t… It hurts too much, to be around you.” Your voice had quieted to a whisper before you stopped talking, finally pulling your eyes away from Aelin’s.
You stared at the floor as you waited for Aelin to drop your hand, for the two of them to storm out of your house.
It didn’t happen.
Aelin tugged you closer, only letting go of your hand to wrap her arms around you. “Y/N.” She said your name like a prayer, and a shudder ran through you. “I can’t believe…” she laughed softly. “I want you too much. I can barely breathe without you, barely think around you.”
“We’ve felt for you since that morning in the greenhouse,” Rowan said, his warmth behind you now, his arms caging you between them. “You’re irresistible in every way, Y/N.”
You were silent in their hold, your mind trying and failing to comprehend what they’d just told you. They… Since the greenhouse…? But why wouldn’t they-
“I don’t… You- why didn’t you tell me?” you asked with a frown on your face.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Aelin asked, her eyes meeting yours when you finally looked up again. “We weren’t certain that you truly wanted us, and, well…”
“Aelin’s not the best at handling negative consequences,” Rowan whispered in your ear, the grin he was wearing obvious without even looking at him, and he chuckled when Aelin glared at him over your shoulder with no heat in her eyes.
“You wanted for Y/N to come to us, Rowan,” Aelin said with a roll of her eyes. “I suggested offering you part of our closet and guaranteed snuggles every night, but… I guess we played it too safe, if you thought we were so uninterested that you needed to run away.” There was regret in those stunning eyes as her arms tightened around you. “Please don’t run.”
The words were so quiet, murmured like a prayer into the space between you, filled with the vulnerability that your Queen so rarely showed.
“Stay with us, Y/N. We need you.” Rowan’s words were just as soft, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke. “We want you.”
You let out a whimper as you melted into their arms, your forehead resting on Aelin’s shoulder. “You can’t talk like that,” you mumbled into the fabric of her dress.
“Why? Is-”
It was easy to cut Rowan’s worry off as you whined, “You turned my legs to jelly. I can’t go back to the castle if I can’t walk.”
Two chests heaved with laughter around you for a moment, arms squishing you between them more tightly before silence fell again. The three of you stood in the quiet for minutes, listening to each other’s breathing.
“So, you’ll come with us?”
“Mm,” you hummed. “You mentioned space in the closet…”
“I’ll burn all of my clothes if it means you’ll be with us.” Aelin’s lips pressed to the crown of your head as you giggled at her.
“She doesn’t need that much space, Aelin,” Rowan teased.
“Hey!”
“Don’t get rid of your clothes, you look too pretty in them. Especially that pink nightgown you wore,” you sighed, nuzzling into Aelin’s neck. “Definitely don’t burn anything like that.”
Two fingers brought your chin up until you were an inch from Aelin’s face, a pleased look in her eyes and a smirk on her lips. “Oh? Should I take you with me when I go shopping for new ones? I’d love to have your input, maybe buy some pretty things for you to wear, just for us. Does that sound good?”
You couldn’t stop the way your heart thumped harder, imaginings of the silk and lace that Aelin would, without a doubt, look stunning in and out of. You didn’t think you could speak anything but gibberish with how close she was, how tightly Rowan was pressed to you, his arousal obvious against your lower back, but you managed a nod, Aelin’s slim fingers still beneath your chin.
“Good girl.” Soft lips pressed to yours, the contact making your knees go weak. It was a short kiss, full of promises that would be fulfilled later, in the warmth of their- now your- rooms. Once your lips parted, Rowan shifted behind you, turning your head to claim your mouth with his own, more demanding than Aelin. You were breathless when you parted, thankful for the two sets of arms now holding you up. “Now go put anything else you want to bring with you tonight in your bags, we have a warm bed waiting for us.”
Aelin’s smile alone could bring you to your knees, but with their confession and your own out in the open… You nearly fell the moment your Queen and King pulled away, your knees saved from bruising by Rowan’s arms wrapping around your waist. “Are you alright?”
Your cheeks flushed as you nodded. “I don’t know if I can walk,” you sighed, your flush intensifying when you saw Aelin’s grin.
“That’s fine, my love. Rowan can carry you,” she said, grin widening when Rowan scooped you into his arms with no warning. “We’ll come back to get the rest of your things tomorrow, and you can wear something of mine tonight. Or nothing at all.”
You pressed your thighs together, knowing exactly what the look in her eyes meant.
Feeling a little burnt out lately, but I couldn't resist doing one more post with my favorite poly couple. They just have my whole heart.
Rowaelin x reader
This was going to be your thirteenth reason —the final, undeniable proof— that you were absolutely, one hundred percent justified in considering throwing yourself off the battlements next time Aelin or Rowan so much as breathed too loudly in your direction.
It had started that morning. A sniffle. A slight ache behind your eyes. Maybe a little nausea. Minor. Manageable. Nothing worth worrying about, let alone worth the King of Terrasen turning into a hulking, overbearing, mother-hen of a male who hadn't let you out of his sight for more than a few minutes.
And gods, if Rowan's pacing didn't drive you mad first, Aelin's dramatics were sure to finish the job.
"Go away," you rasped from the center of the massive bed you were currently buried under, your voice coming out more of a pathetic wheeze than the fierce snarl you'd intended. You coughed once, squeezing your eyes shut as if that alone would ward them off. "I'm fine."
"You’re not fine," Rowan said without even looking at you. His tone was pure command, flat and emotionless to the untrained ear, but you knew him too well. The steel in it was only a thin veil over the worry thrumming through every inch of him.
Before you could summon the strength to argue, another voice chimed in, light and wickedly amused.
"Yeah, maybe we want to get sick too, just so we can stay in bed with you," Aelin drawled from across the room, where she had just abandoned her chair and the book she’d been half-heartedly pretending to read.
You barely cracked an eye open in time to see her grin. That wicked, golden grin that could unravel kingdoms. You didn’t even have the energy to be properly suspicious of it as she crossed the floor toward you with far too much intent for someone claiming casual concern.
Your brow lifted weakly as Aelin, without so much as asking, climbed up onto the bed and crawled over the covers until she flopped dramatically at your side. Her hair fanned across the pillows, a gleaming river of gold that seemed to catch every beam of light from the window.
"You’re going to get sick," you said flatly, though your heart wasn’t in it. Your body was already sagging toward hers instinctively, seeking the warmth you knew she’d give without question.
"If I get sick, I fully expect royal treatment," Aelin sniffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder with a theatrical air that would have made any courtier weep in envy. "Breakfast in bed. Daily foot rubs. A personal bard singing me to sleep. The works."
You let out a weak laugh, your chest rattling slightly with the effort, and shook your head. "You’re the worst patient in the world."
"And you love me for it," she said smugly, resting her head lightly against your shoulder. Her hand found yours under the blankets, fingers twining with easy familiarity. You thought you might’ve had a clever retort when the bed dipped again on your other side, and the mattress shifted with a heavier weight.
There was the faint scent of pine and snow—Rowan. Large, calloused hands, so careful for all their strength, brushed over your forehead. Checking for fever. Again. You grumbled weakly and batted at him, your effort about as effective as a leaf fighting the wind.
"I’m not a fledgling," you muttered, glaring up at him.
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t smile. He simply pressed the back of his hand to your cheek again, his face carved into that same hard, merciless mask he wore on the battlefield, but the worry slipped through the cracks.
"You’re warm," he said quietly, the words rough against the otherwise soft hush of the room. "Warmer than this morning."
"I’m fine," you repeated stubbornly, though it was clear none of them believed you.
"And stubborn," Aelin added brightly, squeezing your hand for emphasis.
You rolled your eyes, or you tried. Everything felt heavy. Hot. You hated feeling weak. Hated that you couldn’t just will yourself better and put an end to the worried looks being traded above your head.
"You’re both idiots," you grumbled hoarsely, burrowing deeper into the blankets despite yourself.
"And you’re ours," she said, softer this time. She pressed a kiss to your temple, feather-light, the scent of lavender clinging to her hair.
Rowan shifted closer too, pulling the covers higher up your body, tucking them in tightly around you with infuriating tenderness. His hand lingered against the crown of your head, his thumb stroking once, a quiet touch.
"Rest," he murmured, his voice little more than a breath against your burning skin. "We’re not going anywhere."
It was easier to let yourself sink with them there. To surrender to the pull of sleep.
Maybe later, when you weren’t feeling like death warmed over, you’d yell at them for being ridiculous. For hovering like your mere breathing was something fragile and precious.
But for now, you let yourself drift, knowing that if the world dared so much as breathe wrong in your direction, Rowan and Aelin would burn it down before it ever touched you.
Warnings: 18+, praise kink, swearing, slight sub, sexual tension,smut, some roughness, oral.
Summary: The relationship between the main character and Dorian is one of intensity and desire, fueled by a deep attraction that they are both struggling to resist. Despite this attraction, they are often at odds, and their relationship is marked by tension and frustration. Despite all this, there is a deep love beneath the surface that neither of them is willing to acknowledge. The moment that they shared in on a drunken night left both of them with unresolved feelings, and it is clear that they are unable to stay away from each other for long.
Things had been tense lately with you and Dorian. A day hadn't gone by in weeks where you and Dorian hadn't argued about something. It didn't matter how pointless or stupid it was. The two of you would argue until interrupted and you were both very passionate and fiery individuals. That’s what initially drew Dorian to you, you were never like any of the girls who threw themselves at him growing up. It was unexplainable the tension that was brewing between you both.
And now you found yourself avoiding him more recently,as if he was the damn plague. But, you could only avoid him for so long. You had a day off training today and found yourself in the library to escape any unwanted attention. It was nearing sundown and you’d not moved , occasionally getting up to get another book of the tall shelves. The arm chair you occupied next to the tall windows, the orange hue of the sun as it set glistening your skin. Your legs draped over the armchair as you relaxed reading, the material of your Dress showing a bit of your thigh.
Dorian was tired, stressed and very frustrated. He had gotten into another argument with you the day prior and his father had been giving him shit all day and even after a long day of training with chaol,he still couldn't get his thoughts sorted out. He had been walking aimlessly around the castle grounds trying to clear his head, but nothing seemed to help.
He decided to head towards the castle library, not expecting anyone to be in there at that time of day. As he approached the heavy oak doors, he noticed a figure sitting in one of the armchairs next to the tall windows. It was you.
He stood there for a moment, simply watching you. You were beautiful, as always. He couldn't deny that. But the tension between you two was becoming unbearable. You barely spoke to him anymore, and when you did, it was always arguing. Dorian knew he needed to talk to you, to clear the air and try to fix things. But as he stood there, all he could think about was how goddamn *frustrated* he was with you. He finally pushed open the door, the sound of it creaking breaking the silence of the library. You looked up from your book, your eyes locking with his. But your gaze returned nonchalant as you returned back to your book. He walked through the doors and leant against the doorframe, looking over to where you were sitting, his eyes heavy and purposeful. He took in the sight of you once more, the way your dress showed off your skin, and the way your hair fell around your face. He could tell you were aware of his presence, but you didn't look up from your book. He stayed leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. The silence felt deafening, and the tension between you two was palpable.He knew he should say something, but he was too damn stubborn to start the conversation. He stood there, his eyes still glued to you, waiting to see if you would speak first.
A few moments passed in silence. The only sound in the library was the soft flipping of pages as you turned the page of your book. Dorian watched you, his patience growing thin. He was getting irritated, now. He wanted you to acknowledge him, to say something, anything.He pushed off from the doorframe and walked towards you, each step heavy and measured. He stopped a few feet away from where you were sitting, his arms still crossed over his chest, his eyes still fixed on you.
"Are you just going to ignore me?" he finally said, his voice sharp.
He couldn't help but notice how damn good you looked sitting there, how the low light from the setting sun glinted off your skin. It just made him even more frustrated. Your gaze shifted back to him just for a second,your expression remained indifferent. You then returned your gaze back to the book, flicking the pages as you spoke.
"What do you want, Dorian?" you asked, your voice cool and distant.
He clenched his jaw, his irritation growing with your cold response. Why were you being so goddamn frustrating?
"I want to talk." He said, his voice tight. He took a step closer to you, closing the distance between you a little.
"About what, from our delightful conversation yesterday I thought you wanted nothing to do with me?" you asked, still not looking up from your book.
He was now standing directly in front of you, his broad figure blocking the light from the window. The tension between you two was thick, and he couldn't stand how damn nonchalant you were being. Dorian narrowed his eyes at your sarcastic comment, his frustration boiling over. He reached out and snatched the book out of your hand, closing it with a thud.
"look at me when I'm talking to you." He growled, towering over you in the low light of the library.
You looked up at him now, your expression still cool and distant. Your eyes met his, and he couldn't help but notice how damn beautiful you looked in the low light. Nestling yourself back into the armchair, your legs still draped over its arms.
"There. Happy now?" you asked, your voice still emotionless.
He felt a familiar pang of frustration at your indifference. Why were you so goddamn stubborn?
"No, I'm not happy." He snapped, still holding the book tightly in his hand. He wanted to shake you, to make you react, to show some damn emotion.
He tossed the book onto the floor and then leaned in, his hands gripping the arms of the armchair, effectively bracketing you in between his arms. Your eyes flickered briefly as he crowded your personal space, but you kept your expression neutral, almost bored. You looked up at him with those damn indifferent eyes, not giving him the satisfaction of a reaction. He was now right in your face, his body practically caging you in. He could smell the scent of your perfume, and it was maddening.
He studied your face, searching for any hint of emotion. But you remained guarded, your expression still annoyingly stoic. He couldn't help but notice the way your legs were still draped over the armchair, your dress riding up a little higher, showing off even more of your skin. It was driving him crazy.
"you have nothing to say,nothing at all?" he growled, his eyes fixed on you, his body hovering over yours.
"And What is it you want me to say, Dorian, hmm?" you replied, trying to sound bored but he could see the hint of annoyance in your eyes.
He was too close, too damn close. He could feel the heat radiating off him, the tension in the air was thick and his eyes kept roaming over your body. He hated how much he was affected by you. He clenched his jaw, his frustration building still. He was sick of your indifference, of your cold attitude.
"I want you to say something, anything for fuck sake” he snapped, his hands clenched the armchair arms.
His eyes roamed your body again, lingering on the exposed skin of your thighs. He didn't know whether to strangle you or kiss you. You noticed the way his eyes roamed your body, his gaze lingering on your thighs. You felt a familiar flutter in your stomach but you kept your expression neutral.
"And what if I don't feel like saying anything?" you said with a hint of defiance.
He was getting even more frustrated at your stubbornness, he was so close to just shaking some sense into you. Or kissing you senseless. Or both. He couldn't take it anymore. He needed a response, he needed something, anything from you. He was sick of your damn indifference and stubbornness. He suddenly grabbed your chin, his grip firm but not too harsh, forcing you to look at him.
"Stop being so damn indifferent! It pisses me off." He growled, his face mere inches away from yours.
You lifted your chin defiantly as he grabbed your face, your eyes locking with his. You couldn't help the smirk that tugged at the corner of your mouth.
"Well, I guess I can add being indifferent to the long list of things I do that pisses you off." you said with a hint of sarcasm.
"And I thought you liked that about me," you added, your voice slightly mocking. "guess not."
Dorian clenched his jaw at your mocking tone, his frustration boiling over. The angrier and more frustrated he got, the more turned on he got as well.
"I do like it, damn it, that’s the problem” He snapped back, his grip on your chin tightening slightly. "I like every damn infuriating thing about you."
His eyes flicked over your face, taking in your defiant expression and the way your lips were so damn close to his.
Despite the tension in the air, your heart fluttered at his words. But you tried to remain composed, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much his words affected you.
"How charming," you replied, a hint of mockery in your voice.
Despite your defiant facade, your breathing had quickened ever so slightly. His proximity was maddening, it took everything in you not to reach out and grab him. He noticed how your breathing had quickened and he smirked, knowing that he was getting to you. He leaned in even closer, his face inches away from yours.
"you drive me crazy" he said, his voice low and rough.
He let go of your chin and his hand moved to your thigh, his fingertips lightly tracing the fabric of your dress, moving higher and higher. You felt a shiver run down your spine as his fingers moved higher up your thigh, his touch sending jolts of electricity through your body.
You couldn't help but feel annoyed at how he could still affect you like this, even when you were trying to resist him.
"And yet you're the one touching me" You said, trying to sound nonchalant, but there was a hint of breathlessness in your voice. He smirked at your response, his fingers continuing to move higher up your thigh. Your reaction, the way you were trying to remain nonchalant but failing, it was getting under his skin.
"And you aren’t stopping me" he said, his voice low and rough.
His hand was now resting dangerously high on your thigh, his thumb tracing circles on your skin. He noticed the way your breath hitched, the way your body reacted to his touch. Your mind and body were at war. Your mind was telling you to push him away, to not give in to him again. But your body was betraying you, every nerve and cell in your body was screaming for more. You tried to steady your breathing, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. His touch was sending sparks of pleasure through your body, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of admitting it.
"I hate you," you whispered, your voice betraying you once more.
His smirk only grew wider at your words. He knew he was getting to you, the way you were fighting against your own desires was driving him crazy.
"No, you don't. You hate how much you want me." He whispered, his hand creeping even higher up your thigh.
He leaned in closer, his breath tickling your skin as he spoke. "You know I can feel how much you want me right now. You're practically trembling."
You felt a surge of annoyance and desire at his words. He was right and you hated it. Your body was betraying you, trembling under his touch, and it was infuriating yet so damn satisfying. You knew you should push him away, but all you wanted to do was pull him closer. Your mind was screaming at you to resist, but your body was craving his touch, his lips.
"I don't want you," you said, but your voice was breathy and unconvincing.
He saw through your words, he knew you were just putting up a front. He could feel the way your body reacted to him, the way you were trembling from his touch.
"Your body says otherwise." he whispered, his hand finally coming to rest on your inner thigh, his fingers tracing circles on the soft skin.
He leaned in closer, his mouth now just an inch away from your ear. "You can keep denying it all you want, but we both know the truth. You want me."
Damn it, he was right. You hated how well he knew you, how he could see right through your stubborn and defiant act. Your body was aflame with desire, your every nerve and cell screaming for more of his touch. But you refused to give in, to admit aloud how much you wanted him. You tried to gather your thoughts, but his proximity and his touch were making it nearly impossible.
"I— I don't-" You tried to deny it again, but your voice cracked, betraying you once more.
He let out a low chuckle, enjoying the fact that he was getting to you so easily. He could see the conflict in your eyes, the battle between your stubborn defiance and the desire that was clearly consuming you.
"You don't what?" he taunted, his hand still tracing circles on your inner thigh, his touch sending shivers down your spine.
He leaned in even closer, his lips just grazing the skin of your neck. "Admit it," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "You want me as much as I want you and you know I have done for a long time, you know how much that night replays in my mind y/n"
The memories of a night we’d shared together, a drunken mistake we called it,flooded back to you, the drunken haze, the passion, the desire. And then the following morning, the tension and the arguments. Neither of you had ever mentioned it since, but it had lingered between you both like a heavy cloud, always present but never acknowledged.
You bit your lip, trying to keep your emotions in check, but Dorian's touch was making it impossible. He could see the memories replaying in your head, the way your breathing hitched and your body tensed. He knew you were thinking about that night as much as he was. His hand moved higher, his fingers tracing along the hem of your dress, his touch sending jolts of desire through your body.
"You remember that night, don't you?" he whispered, his voice low and rough. "The way you tasted, the way you felt… I haven't been able to stop thinking about it."
Your breath caught in your throat as he brought up that night, the memories flooding your mind. It had been a drunken mistake, something you had both pushed to the side as we had been friends first before anything, but it seemed like he hadn't been able to let it go.His touch on the hem of your dress was causing your body to react, a shiver running through you. You tried to keep your breathing steady, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.
"We said it was a mistake." You managed to whisper, your voice betraying the desire that was building inside you.
He let out a low chuckle at your words. "Was it really though?" he said, his fingers now gently tugging at the hem of your dress, causing the fabric to ride up your thigh even further.
He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your neck, his lips barely touching your skin. "We both know it wasn't a mistake. It was what we both wanted. What we still want."
His hand moved higher, his touch possessive and desperate. "Don't deny it, don’t deny what’s always been there”
His touch was sending waves of desire through your body, your breathing becoming more and more erratic. You knew he was right, that there had always been a tension between you both and that night had been the culmination of years of suppressed feelings. His words were like fuel to a fire, igniting the desires within you. You tried to push back, to push him away, but your body was betraying you.
"We can't..."you whispered, your voice shaking with desire, but your protest sounded weak even to your own ears. He let out a low growl, his grip on your thigh tightening. "Why not?" he demanded, his voice rough with desire.
He pressed himself even closer to you, his body now flush against your own. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the way his muscular frame was pressing into you, igniting a fire inside you.
His hand moved higher still, now dangerously close to your inner thigh. "You want this as much as I do," he murmured against your neck. "There's nothing wrong with giving in to what we both want."
His words sent a shiver down your spine, your resolve crumbling, your body responding to his touch. You knew you should push him away, that this was dangerous and complicated, but you couldn't stop yourself. Your breathing was ragged, your body trembling with desire. You couldn't deny his words. You did want this, you had always wanted this.
His hand moved just a little higher up your thigh, his touch possessive and demanding. "Say it," he growled. "Say you want this. Say you still want me."
Your breath hitched as he demanded your answer. Your body was screaming for him, your mind in a haze of desire and need. You knew giving in was a risk, that this could change everything between you. But at this moment, you didn't care. The feeling of his hand on your thigh, his body tight against yours was driving you crazy.
You bit your lip, your voice low and trembling. "I do," you whispered. "I still want you. God help me, I still want you."
Hearing the words escape your lips was the final straw. He let out a low, rough growl and pulled you closer, his grip on your thigh becoming bruising. His mouth was on yours in an instant, his kiss hungry and rough, his body pressing you even further into the armchair. You could feel the desperation in his actions, the need that was mirrored in your own body.
He broke the kiss, his mouth moving to your neck, his teeth grazing against the sensitive skin. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire.
Your mind blanked as he kissed you, his body pressing you into the armchair, his touch igniting every nerve in your body. The intensity of his need mirrored yours, and you felt yourself melting into him. As his mouth was on your neck, driving you insane, his teeth leaving little marks on your skin. He lifted both of your legs off the armchair rest and placed one foot on one arm and the other foot on the other. As he pulled away to speak, you couldn't help but gasp, his voice sending shivers down your spine.
"I can't stop thinking about you." he murmured, his voice rough and desperate. "I can't stop thinking about that night we spent together. It's all I think about...” his hands move your dress up your thighs as your legs spread on the armchair rests,baring yourself to him.
“it’s all I want for the rest of my for damm fucking life” He lowers himself on his knees.
His words were like a drug to you, and you could only gasp, trying to catch your breath as he moved between your legs. His touch was sending sparks of desire through you, and you could feel your body responding instinctively.
He looked up at you, his eyes dark and full of a primal need. "Look at me." he growled.
You couldn't help it, you looked down at him, his eyes holding you captive. The sight of him on his knees in front of you, his hands on your thighs, made your heart skip a beat. He held your gaze as he lowered down, his hands roaming up your thighs, his touch leaving a trail of fire on your skin.
"You're so damn beautiful, you know that?" he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. "So damn beautiful, and so damn mine"
He leaned in, his breath hot against your skin as his mouth made its way up your thigh, leaving soft kisses along the way. Each kiss was slow and deliberate, his actions teasing and tantalizing. His kisses leading up to that very particular place you needed him.
“this is how we are meant to be” he spook softly as he kissed to apex of your thigh, so close to your core.
His words, his touch, his kisses, everything was making you dizzy with need. You could feel your body trembling, your heart pounding in your chest.
He looked up at you, his eyes meeting yours as he lingered at the apex of your thigh. "You're mine. Say it." he demanded, his voice rough with desire. Because as soon as you said it, he wouldn’t be able to resist, he’d give in to what he’s been wanting to do for his entire existence.
You couldn't deny it, and the words came out as a desperate whisper. "I'm yours."
The words were like the final piece of a puzzle falling into place for him. With those simple words, he knew that he was right where he was meant to be.
He let out a low growl, his eyes dark with desire. "Good girl." he murmured, his fingers tracing circles on your skin. "Now relax."
He leaned in closer, his mouth hovering near your most sensitive spot, his breath hot against your skin. "I'm going to take care of you, darling."
Those words, those damn words almost made you melt right then and there. You could feel your body responding to his touch, the tension building inside you with every passing second. He knew he had you right where he wanted you. He gave a soft laugh before leaning in even closer, his lips ghosting over your skin. "I need you to remember something," he murmured, his voice full of promise. "You belong to me, and I take very, very good care of what is mine."
Your body was on fire, your breath coming in ragged gasps as he spoke. The way he was talking, the possessive and demanding way that he was, it was taking all of your strength not to moan his name. You could feel your body responding, every nerve in your body alive and aware of his every move.
He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your inner thigh, his words a whisper against your skin. "You're mine, and I'm going to show you just how good I can make you feel." his lips hovered so close to your clit now. As he spoke, his very breath tingling.
“and you are going to watch,your eyes best stay on me love, I want you to watch how much I enjoy you, the taste of you”
Those words sent a shiver down your spine, your body trembling with anticipation. You couldn't help but moan softly, your fingers digging into the fabric of the armchair. He chuckled softly at the sound of your moan, his fingers dancing along your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. "I love those sounds you make," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "But I want to make you scream."
Your breath hitched at his word, your body responding to his touch like a puppet on a string. You couldn't help but gasp, your words coming out as a breathless whisper. "Dorian ..." you whispered, the sound of his name leaving your lips as a plea. The sound of his name on your lips was like music to his ears, and he smiled at the tone in your voice. "Be a good girl," he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. "No looking away. I want you to watch me." as his eyes gazed into your soul, his tongue started to lick your folds. As the first light touch of his tongue made contact, your head fell back against the back of the chair, a gasp escaping your lips. Your hands gripped the sides of the chair, as your back arched slightly. You could feel every flick of his tongue, every single movement that he made. His tongue flicked against your sensitive bundle of nerves, causing a jolt of pleasure to run through you. His tongue was like magic, his every touch sending waves of pleasure through your body, like sparks of electricity dancing on your skin. Your mind was in a fog, your thoughts consumed by him. You couldn’t think about anything other than the way his tongue moved against you, the way he teased and tantalised you. You could hear his low moans and feel his breath on your skin, adding to the sensation. His eyes didn’t stray from yours, his gaze locked on your face as he watched your reactions, his expression one of pure lust and something deeper. You could feel the heat of his gaze as he watched you, the intensity of his eyes making you gasp for air. You were unable to tear your gaze from his, your body trembling with pleasure. Your hands gripped the fabric of the chair, your knuckles turning white with the force of your grip. "Dorian ..." you gasped, your voice ragged and desperate. But you needed to touch him, your hands went to his hair, you gripped hard.
His eyes darkened as your hand grabbed his hair, a low growl escaping his throat. He continued, his tongue flicking and swirling against you, his own desire growing more and more with every passing moment. He couldn't keep himself from touching you, his hands roaming along your skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. "You're so damn perfect," he murmured, his words sending jolts of pleasure through you. His pace quickened, his tongue moving in a faster rhythm, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. "That's it, love," he said, his tone firm and commanding. " I want to see you let go for me” he brought up his fingers now and slowly started to push them inside.
Your mind was a blur of pleasure, your breath coming in short gasps. Every touch of his body, every word he spoke, every sound he made, was driving you to the edge. You were trembling now, your hands clenching and unclenching as he pushed his fingers into you, your body responding to his movements. "Dorian!" you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper. "Please ..." you pleaded, your body feeling like it was going to burst. He looked up then, his eyes locking onto yours. "Come for me,love” one of his hands gripping your thighs and pushing you into his mouth deeper.
You couldn't hold back any longer, the sensations overwhelming you. Your body trembled, a cry of pleasure escaping your lips as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you. Your hands tightened in his hair, your body arching off the armchair, your legs shaking. "Dorian!!" you cried out, your eyes fixed on his face, watching through half-shut eyes as he watched you intensely. "Good girl." he murmured and he didn’t pull away from you, his lips swollen and wet, tasting you,his eyes dark with desire.
Your body was still trembling with the aftershocks of your climax, your breath coming in short gasps. You felt weak, your mind still clouded with pleasure. You could feel the heat of his gaze still on you, and the weight of his words echoing in your ears. "Look at you," he growled softly, his hand slowly moving up your thigh, "so beautiful when you come undone for me." He leaned in close, his words warm against your skin. "And you tasted so damn good, love." He murmured, he pulled away, licking his lips and then his fingers as he watched you.
You could only breathe heavily, your body feeling boneless and sated. You could still see the desire in his eyes, the way he was watching you like he wanted to devour you all over again. But he pulled away from you, a smirk on his lips as he stood up. "That was just a taste," he murmured, his voice rough with desire.
You could only watch as he stood up, your body feeling empty and aching for more. You could still feel the heat of his touch on your skin, the memory of his tongue still fresh in your mind. You could see the desire in his eyes, the way he looked at you like he wanted to take you right then and there. But he pulled away from you, a smirk on his lips as he slowly started backing away.
He stopped at the door, his hand on the handle, his eyes still fixed on your face. He could see the desire still burning in your eyes, the way your body was still trembling, the way your breath was still ragged. He leaned against the door frame, a smirk playing on his lips. Gods he wanted to give in and take you,but he would wait. His eyes locked with yours, his expression still smug. "You can fight this all you want, fight me, but in the end, we'll end up together. Just remember, I was right." His words were a taunt, a dare. He turned and walked out the door, leaving you alone in the armchair, your body aching and your mind still reeling from the intensity of what had just happened.
You were left sitting there, alone in the chair, your heart racing and your mind still swirling with desire. You could still feel the lingering heat of his touch, the way his eyes had looked at you with such intense desire. And his words...those damn words. "You can fight this all you want, fight me, but in the end, we'll end up together." You knew he was right, and it drove you crazy. In the moments that followed, your mind was consumed with thoughts of him: his touch, his words, the way he had made you feel. Every fiber of your being was screaming out for more, for that intense release only he could give you. You couldn't stop thinking about him, about the way he had looked at you, the way he had taken you apart and put you back together again. He was right, and he knew it.
But even as you tried to push the thoughts away, to fight against the desires that were coursing through your body, you couldn't deny them. As you sat in the armchair, your heart throbbing in your chest, you couldn't help but think that he would be back. He wanted you as much as you wanted him, and he wouldn't be able to stay away for long. You sat in the armchair, your thoughts racing and your body still trembling with desire. As the door closed behind him, you were left alone in the room, your body aching for more. Your mind kept replaying the events of the past few minutes, the way he had made you feel, the way his eyes had looked at you. It was like he had left a mark on you, a mark that wouldn't fade. And deep down, you knew he was right. In the end, you and him would end up together.
__________________________________________
Part two anyone??? 😏
I really enjoyed writing this one, who loves prince Dorian? Because I certainly do!
can i request a fenrys x oc mate . Maybe where they don’t get along - either cause of aelin or something else and the oc is struggling to accept the bond due to trauma in her past
Thank you :))
Thank you for reading, darling. 🤍
warning: past trauma from forced ownership
Give it time
“Well what do you want me to fucking do?”, Fenrys growled fed up with the argument that had sparked over nothing once again. That had been happening awfully a lot now that the bind had snapped for you too. “Start by getting the fuck away from me”, you reached for the table knife before pointing it at him. “Kids, come on now”, Gavriel finally cut in, standing up from his seat to stand between you both. “Young love, how entertaining”, Lorcan chuckled crossing one foot over the other. “I’ll cut you next”, “Leave her the fuck alone”, you and Fenrys echoed in unison before turning your glares upon each other once more.
“Yn, give me the knife, mhm”, Gavriel mused stepping closer. “Tell him to stop sleeping outside my door”, you whined. “I am bonded to you, I can’t help it”, Fenrys growled, pulling at his hair. “I don’t want to be linked with you, I don’t want to be linked with anyone”, your eyes met Gavriel, who had been a fatherly figure to you for years now. “Sweetheart, hand the knife over and we will talk about this, find a way to make you more comfortable”, he softly reached out, seizing your wrist.
“I just got it back”, you whispered, “Please”, you whined, grabbing onto his arm. “I can’t alter fate, sweet girl”, Gavriel spoke softly, “Finding a mate is the biggest joy. Most don’t experience it ever”. “I don’t want to belong to anyone”, you growled through gritted teeth. “You’re making it sound like I’m about to chain you to myself”, Fenrys gritted his teeth. Your face fell. Growing pale right in front of his eyes. “Fenrys”, Gavriel snapped back.
“Rowan why don’t you take Y/n on a walk, get some fresh air”, Gavriel threw a glance that spoke volumes to his friend. “I didn’t…”, Fenrys started but Gavriel simply lifted his hand to silence him. “I’ll tag along”, Lorcan leaned forward, “Remember the waterfall I told you about?”, stepping forward he pinched your cheek, “Why don’t we check it out?”.
Fenrys watched his cadre brothers, letting you out the door. “You need to have more patience with her, Fenrys”, Gavriel pinched the bridge of his nose. “She snapped at me. I’m trying to have…”, “She was a slave for a long time. Chained to her keeper. Thrown around like a rag-doll”, Gavriel cut in. Fenrys felt his hands turning into fists. Anger bubbled inside him. “I took care of them”, Gavriel clapped his shoulder, “All I’m asking is that you give her breathing space”, “I don’t mean harm to her”, Fenrys argued. “I know that boyo, she will learn that too, you just got to give her the lead here”.
Summary: Rowan canonically has a biting kink and I think about it once a week so, I thought I might share with the class 🫶
Warnings: Smut | Minors dni | 18+ | biting kink | oral (f receiving) | p in v | territorial fae bastard | brief fingering | praise | Rowan’s feral for her
Dawn had yet to break over the horizon but I've been awake for at least an hour. I had spent that time silently laying in bed, listening to the sound of Rowan's soft heartbeat, steady and slow beneath my ear, a rhythm I had grown fond of and had slowly become the most comforting sound I had ever heard.
Once my stomach got the best of me—and was grumbling so loud I honestly thought it might wake the silver-haired fae beside me, I slipped from the bed, tip-toeing as I got dressed and despite my mates heightened senses, he didn't stir as I left our bedroom.
I padded into the dimly lit kitchen and fixed myself a simple meal as quietly as I could, making a plate of leftovers from dinner, not bothering to heat them up due to the fact that the smell and clattering of utensils would most likely wake Rowan.
He wasn't a light sleeper by any means, the male slept like a damned log, and I was certain he could pass out anywhere, but, to his core, he was a worrier.
And when I wasn't beside him, he was as anxious as a mother hen. Which meant a rough sleep.
I hadn't known what prompted me to wake up earlier than usual, and I'd most likely be in eager need of a nap in a few hours, but once I was awake, there was no returning to sleep.
So I sighed, stuffing a cold potato into my mouth, quietly eating as I stretched my limbs out, sore from sleep and training yesterday.
A warm breeze twirled around me and I knew it wasn't the wind blowing in from the windows that kissed my face.
I wasn't surprised when a pair of large, muscled arms lazily wrapped around my torso, pulling me back into a bare chest.
"It's too early," Rowan murmured, his voice groggy as he spoke into my hair.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," I lift a hand up, running it through his trimmed, silver locks.
"Then come back to bed," He grumbles and I smile, leaning into his warm and toned chest.
"You used to train from dawn to nightfall right outside my window, where'd that Rowan go?" I tease, raising a brow despite the fact that he couldn't see it, rolling another potato over with my fork.
"Mm, he died from a heart attack when a pretty girl dragged him into her rooms when he was supposed to be training," He explained and I smiled at the memory, still raking my hand through his hair.
"I miss your long hair," I changed the subject and he groaned, stuffing his nose into the crook of my neck.
"How many times do I have to tell you I'm growing it out, just for you?" He huffs and I beam brightly. "I still can't believe you cut it without asking me," I sighed in disbelief as if that day was such a tragedy.
"My gods woman," He hoisted me up into his arms and I squealed. "And I still can't believe you left our bed without asking me," He retorted and I giggled.
"Those are two very different things," I argue while he carries me back to our bedroom, leaving my cold food on the counter, deserted.
He threw me down onto our bed and crawled in beside me. I gripped him by the tops of his shoulders, lugging him upward so he was laying atop me, and he would have been crushing me if his hips weren't positioned between my legs, his head stuffed in the junction of my shoulder and neck.
"I missed you," He sighs and I roll my eyes.
"For the ten minutes I wasn't in bed?" I scoffed and he growled softly, nipping at my collarbone. "Ow!" I yelp, shoving him away but he only looks at me with a feral grin and an amused look in his eyes.
"I love doing that," He hums and I deadpan at him.
"What? Inflicting pain onto your mate?" I suggest and he frowns.
"No, biting you," He explained and I gave him an incredulous look, as if they were not one and the same.
"You have a biting kink," I reiterate and he brushes me off.
"I do not." He huffs while stuffing his head back into my shoulder.
He danced his lips along my collarbone, kissing softly until he found the small expanse of skin that made me tense.
I felt him grin at his realization. His elongated canines brushed over the area just below my pulse point. He ran his nose up the area, entirely drunk on the scent and feel of me beneath him.
He kissed the spot, soft, gentle, something he did every time before marking me. "Rowan," I warn in a stern voice.
"Hm?" He inquires, all too innocently.
"If you leave a mark I'm going to kill you," I warn.
"Is that right, love?" He drawls against the column of my throat and my stomach twists in both arousal and anxiety.
"Yes. We have a meeting with the lords of Doranelle today and I'd prefer it if they didn't know how much you love to claim your territory," I reason but he remains at the area on my neck, taunting the flesh.
"But the looks on their faces," He drawls. "They'll know you're all mine," He grins at the idea and I roll my eyes.
"They already do, remember? When we had a wedding and all of Wendlyn was invited?" I reason but he simply shakes his head.
"Not just Wendlyn, everyone, I want everyone to know," He goes on and I release a long sigh, his grin broadening because he knows he's won.
"Okay, but only if you admit you have a biting kink," I bargain and he chuckles, but he doesn't say it rather than shows it.
His sharp canines brush over my neck, then slowly sink into my porcelain skin, the feeling sending shockwaves of both pain and pleasure throughout my entire body. I melted into his touch as he groaned softly the moment my blood hit his tongue. He bit harder, making sure a mark was left while he pressed his hips into mine, his hard cock straining against his pants but through my thin nightgown there was practically nothing between us.
Rowan's tongue glided over the wound, savoring the taste of my blood as the wound closed. His lips pressed against my neck in a silent apology, though there was no need for one. The bite sent shivers through my body, the sharp sensation of pain melting into the pleasure that followed in its wake. I threaded my fingers through his silver hair, holding him close, feeling the heat of his body radiated through my thin gown.
"You've made your point," I said softly, my voice still teasing, though breathless from the intensity of his bite. "Everyone will know I'm yours."
Rowan's chuckle was low, vibrating against my skin. He lifted his head, meeting my gaze with eyes that were both playful and full of desire. "I'm not quite done proving it," he murmured.
Before I could respond, Rowan shifted, his hands sliding down my body in a way that had my pulse quickening all over again. His fingers trailed over my hips, tugging my gown up higher, exposing more of my skin to the cool morning air. His lips followed the path of his hands, pressing soft kisses to my collarbone, down my sternum, until he reached the delicate curve of my waist.
His mouth was warm, his breath hot against my skin as he continued to descend, leaving a trail of kisses that made me arch into his touch. His lips lingered at the edge of my inner thigh, just before he bit down—not hard, not yet—just enough to tease me, to make my breath hitch.
"Rowan," I breathed, my hand tightening in his hair, pulling just enough to let him know how desperate I was becoming.
He lifted his head, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he met my gaze, pine-green eyes full of lust and devotion. "Tell me what you want, love."
My voice trembled, but the words came easily. "Touch me."
His grin widened, but he didn't rush. Instead, his lips brushed over the sensitive skin of my thigh again, his teeth grazing lightly before he sank them in just enough to leave a mark, making me gasp. The combination of his bites and his soft kisses left my skin tingling with anticipation.
Rowan's hands moved to my thighs, parting them gently as he positioned himself between my legs. His fingers traced slow, lazy circles along my skin, a deliberate contrast to the sharp bites he'd left behind. He didn't say anything—he didn't need to. His lips descended again, pressing a kiss to the inside of my thigh, so close to where I ached for him, yet not quite enough.
I let out a soft whimper, and he hummed against my skin, clearly pleased with my reaction. He kissed me there once more, softer this time, before his tongue finally darted out, teasing me, tasting me. The sensation was electric, sending a wave of pleasure crashing over me, and I moaned, my back arching off the bed.
Rowan's grip tightened on my thighs as he held me steady, his tongue moving with agonizing precision. His lips, his teeth—everything about him was calculated to drive me wild, to bring me to the edge and hold me there. He alternated between soft kisses and firm, lingering licks, his teeth occasionally nipping the sensitive flesh of my inner thighs, leaving marks that would remind me of this moment long after.
My hands fisted the sheets, my breath ragged as I tried to keep control, even if I wanted nothing more than that sweet release. Rowan's pace didn't relent. If anything, the pressure of his mouth increased, his bites becoming bolder, leaving me trembling beneath him.
The tension in my body built, winding tighter and tighter until I was nearly coming undone. Just when I thought I couldn't take it any longer, he withdrew, his lips brushing over my skin once more, this time moving up my body again.
His eyes were dark with desire as he hovered over me, his lips glistening from tasting me. He kissed me then, slow and deep, letting me taste myself on his tongue. "You're mine," he murmured against my lips, the possessiveness in his voice making my pulse race again.
"And you're mine," I teased, though my voice was barely a whisper now.
Rowan grinned, his teeth grazing my bottom lip. "All yours," he rasped before capturing my lips again, the kiss full of a promise—one that said he wasn't done with me yet.
His kiss deepened, his tongue sliding against mine in a way that made my toes curl. The heat between my legs only intensified, my entire body buzzing with need as he pressed himself against me, his hard length unmistakable even through the fabric of his pants. I arched into him, desperate for the friction, desperate for him.
His hands moved with a confidence that only came from knowing me intimately, sliding down my body and pushing my gown further up until he pulled it over my head and discarded it onto the floor. I shivered as his fingers skimmed over the bare skin of my waist, his touch both tender and possessive. He shifted his weight, his hands making quick work of his pants, and I felt him—hot, hard, and ready—pressing against me.
Rowan paused for a moment, his eyes dark as they locked onto mine. "You sure baby?" he murmured, his voice low and thick with need, though there was a tenderness there, too. He always made sure, always wanted me to be in control, even in moments like these.
My response was immediate, my voice breathless as I nodded. "Yes, Rowan. Please."
That was all he needed.
His hand slid between my legs, his fingers finding my slick heat and teasing me with gentle strokes, preparing me for him. I gasped at the contact, my body arching into his touch, but it wasn't enough. Not nearly enough.
Rowan grinned, clearly enjoying how desperate I was for him, but he didn't make me wait much longer. He lined himself up with my entrance, his gaze never leaving mine as he slowly pushed into me, stretching me in a way that was both delicious and overwhelming.
I felt him everywhere, I needed him everywhere. It was indescribable the pleasure I was enduring, how he knew exactly how to make me feel good, exactly how much I could take— then pushing me past that mark.
I never got used to the size of him, even after decades of being his mate— he had me satisfied halfway in. “Ro—” I whimpered, my nails digging into his shoulders as I arch off the bed.
“I know baby, almost there.” He leans down and presses a tender kiss to my lips, his arms on either side of my head. “You’re doing so well,” He praises, pulling out and then thrusting in once more, his hips finally meeting mine.
I gasped, my nails now dragging down his muscled back as he filled me completely, his body flush against mine. For a moment, neither of us moved, savoring the feeling of being so intimately connected. His forehead pressed against mine, and his breath came out in a ragged exhale.
"Gods," he groaned softly, his voice a low rumble against my skin. "You feel, so perfect."
My response was a guttural moan, the pleasure of having him inside me stealing my words. Slowly, he began to move, pulling back just enough before pushing back into me, his pace measured, and deliberate. He wanted to make this last, wanted to draw out every bit of pleasure he could give me.
The friction built steadily, a delicious tension coiling in my core as Rowan's hips moved against mine, slow but powerful. He kissed me again, his lips moving languidly over mine, his tongue mimicking the rhythm of his thrusts, teasing and tasting me.
Every time he filled me, a wave of pleasure rippled through me, my body tightening around him as the tension built higher and higher. His name fell from my lips in a breathless whisper, and I felt him shudder against me, his control slipping as he gave in to the primal need to claim me.
Rowan's thrusts quickened, his hands gripping my hips to pull me closer, deeper. The sound of skin against skin, of his low, rumbling groans, filled the room, mingling with my own moans. He leaned down, his mouth returning to my neck, and before I could protest, his sharp teeth sank into my skin once more, right where my pulse thrummed wildly.
The bite sent a sharp jolt of pleasure and pain through my body, and my inner walls clenched around him as my climax rushed toward me. I cried out, my body arching off the bed as the intense waves of pleasure crashed over me, my release shuddering through every nerve.
Rowan groaned into my neck as my body tightened around him, his hips stuttering as he found his own release. He thrust into me one final time, his body tensing as he spilled into me, his grip on my hips tightening as he rode out the last of his pleasure.
For a moment, the only sound in the room was the heavy panting of our breaths, the two of us tangled together in a haze of post-orgasm bliss. Rowan's weight settled over me, his head dropping to rest against my shoulder, his breath warm against my skin.
I sighed contentedly, my hand threading through his hair once more. "Sometimes I wonder why I put up with you," I murmured with a lazy smile.
Rowan chuckled softly, his lips brushing over the bite mark on my neck in a tender kiss. "Because you love me," he murmured, his voice low and full of satisfaction. "And because I'm great at making all my mistakes up to you."
I rolled my eyes, though there was no real annoyance behind it. "Making it up to me? You mean making me mad then charming you way out of it?"
Rowan grinned, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he nuzzled into my neck. "It's called balance, love." He says against my heated skin.
I roll my eyes, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and pulling him impossibly closer as I mutter, "You're ridiculous."
He stayed pressed against me for a few more moments, his breath still coming out in slow, deep pants. He placed a soft kiss on the bite mark he'd left on my neck, then slowly pulled out of me, the sensation making us both shiver. As much as I wanted to stay tangled up in each other, I knew the meeting was looming.
"I've ruined our schedule, haven't I?" Rowan's voice was low, though I could hear the lazy smile in his tone.
I gave a soft laugh, shifting beneath him. "A little. But I suppose I can forgive you this once."
Rowan chuckled, rolling off of me and onto his side. His arm draped over my waist as he reached up, brushing a lock of hair from my face, his thumb gently grazing my cheek. "You're too kind," he teased, his pine-green eyes warm with affection.
"Only because I'm still basking in the afterglow," I shot back with a smirk, earning another low laugh from him.
But Rowan wasn't one to linger too long in the haze of pleasure, especially when it came to taking care of me afterward. His touch was immediately gentle and purposeful, slipping out of bed to grab a cloth from the basin near the window. I watched him move with that easy grace he always had, even half-dressed and tousled from bed. He dipped the cloth in the water, wringing it out before returning to my side.
"Stay still, love," Rowan murmured as he knelt beside me on the bed. His hands were warm and gentle as he ran a damp cloth between my legs, cleaning me with the same tender care he always did after moments like this.
I sighed, letting my head fall back against the pillow, the coolness of the cloth soothing the lingering heat in my skin. "You're too good at this," I mused, my voice soft with a mixture of contentment and exhaustion.
He smiled, his eyes glinting with humor. "I've had plenty of practice."
"You say that like I'm high maintenance," I teased, though I couldn't help the soft sigh that escaped me as he finished cleaning me up.
He raised a brow, wiping his hands before setting the cloth aside. "You? Never," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm, though the way he looked at me—like I was the most precious thing in the world—softened the words. He pulled the blankets back over me, making sure I was comfortable before leaning in and pressing a kiss to my temple.
I rolled my eyes, reaching up to poke him in the chest. "I don't remember you complaining last night."
Rowan grinned, catching my hand and bringing it to his lips, kissing my knuckles. "I'm not complaining now, either."
With a satisfied smile, he moved to retrieve my clothes. He picked out the gown I had set aside for the meeting, holding it up with an appraising look. "This one will show off all your marks perfectly I think."
I laughed, sitting up in bed, feeling pleasantly sore. "Well, I wasn't planning on needing armor for the meeting, but after this morning's antics, maybe I should rethink that."
Rowan tossed the gown to me with a smirk. "I told you, love. I'm making sure everyone knows you're mine."
I caught the gown and shook my head in mock exasperation. "You are impossible."
"And yet, you married me," he said with a wink, starting to dress himself, pulling on his pants and shirt with practiced ease.
I stood, slipping into my undergarments before working my way into the gown. The fabric was soft against my skin, and Rowan moved to my side, his fingers deftly helping fasten the back without me needing to say a word.
As his hands worked, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "You know, I could help you out of this dress far faster than you got into it," he murmured against my hair, his tone teasing but affectionate.
I elbowed him lightly in the ribs, though the smile tugging at my lips betrayed me. "I swear your mind stays in one place and one place only."
Once the gown was fastened, Rowan turned me around, his fingers brushing over the bite mark on my neck, a satisfied gleam in his eyes. "I really outdid myself with this one." He admires the mark like an art piece.
I snorted, smoothing down the front of my dress as I met his gaze in the mirror. "If you leave any more marks like this, the lords are going to think you're trying to start some sort of territorial war."
His expression turned mock-serious. "I mean, can you blame me? You're worth fighting for."
I rolled my eyes for what felt like the nth time, though the flush in my cheeks betrayed how much his words affected me. "Just behave yourself during the meeting."
Rowan's grin was utterly unrepentant as he reached for his sword, fastening it at his waist. "I always behave, love."
I raised a brow at him. "Uh-huh. And how many times have we been late to meetings because of your 'good behavior'?"
His gaze darkened with amusement. "If you keep talking like that, we might be late again today."
I gave him a playful shove toward the door. "Out. I need to make sure I don't look like I've been ravaged by my mate all morning."
He chuckled, stepping aside but not before leaning in to steal another kiss, his lips soft and warm against mine. "You look perfect," he murmured as he pulled back, his eyes lingering on me with a warmth that made my heart flutter.
I gave him a small, exasperated shake of my head, though my heart skipped a beat at his words. "Flattery won't save you if we're late."
Rowan's grin only widened as he opened the door, slipping out of it— then peaking his head back in to say, "I'll take my chances." With a snarky grin.
Gods, help me, this male was hopeless.
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