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sassyhobbits · 5 days

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HOTTTTT

sleepless in terrasen

@throneofglassmicrofics instead of final papers i wrote...this 🫣

prompts: Sleepless & Rapture & Elixir

word count: 1,059 (whoops)

warnings: NSFW CONTENT OOPSIES

enjoy!!!

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

She hadn't been able to sleep.

After two hours of tossing and turning, silken sheets rustling in agitation beneath her flushed skin, Aelin groaned in frustration and rolled out of her bed. Damn the man sleeping one door away from her. Damn his stupid sexy smirk and his stupid hot lips and his stupid big hands. Damn Rowan Whitethorn for kissing every coherent thought out of her head and locking the door behind him as he went to his own damned room.

Damn that gentlemanly tendency of his.

With a half-grunt, half-moan of frustration, Aelin reached for the small vial of medicine that she always kept with her whenever she traveled. Whether it was a long business trip with her parents and the rest of their government staff or a trip like this, a simple two-day drive from university back to her home, she always kept some sleep medication on hand. After nearly a decade of chronic insomnia, she knew how handy even a single does of that elixir was.

Fumbling in the dark, her hand soon closed around the familiar bottle. She quickly unscrewed the top, lifted the tiny glass bottle to her lips, and drank down the slightly-sweet medicine. After she placed the empty vial back on the nightstand, she tucked herself back into the very comfortable hotel bed, rolled onto her side, and waited for the familiar drowsiness to wash over her body.

Instead of sleepiness, though, a powerful wave of heat spread through her.

Shocked, Aelin flipped on the bedside lamp and grabbed the tiny glass bottle, squinting at the tiny print. Slowly, the words became clear.

Oh, fuck.

"Intensify Her Pleasure!" screamed the crimson lettering on the small black label. That wasn't her sleeping meds--it was a goddamn aphrodisiac.

And the need pulsing through her veins reared its head in full force, her nipples peaking to stiff little points at the thought of needing stimulation. Craving stimulation. From a certain pair of rough, calloused hands that had just recently gripped her hips as the man who owned them pressed her back into the wall and kissed a fire into her blood.

Gods. Aelin flipped the light off, dropped the bottle, and curled herself into a tight little ball under the sheets, willing the lust to calm itself down. Willing the image of Rowan's shirtless chest out of her--holy gods. Against her will, that image suddenly lost its pants.

And the fire in her veins burned brighter, demanding attention.

She stretched out, sliding the worn cotton shirt off her body. His shirt, its pine scent warm, comforting, familiar. Even the gentle rasp of the fabric against her peaked nipples sent a shudder through her body, and she lowered her hands to her breasts, gently circling the hardened buds. Harder. Rougher. Like she imagined Rowan would do if he wasn't so insistent on being a gentleman.

She didn't need him to be gentle with her.

As she slipped one hand between her thighs, Aelin couldn't muffle her soft moan. Fuck, she was so wet, turned on by the heated kiss, her need intensified by the damn aphrodisiac. Her fingers found her needy, throbbing clit, and she groaned, then grabbed a pillow and pressed it over her mouth, muffling her sounds. She should have been embarrassed that Rowan's name left her mouth in a broken moan as she slid two fingers into her pussy, but she wasn't. She wanted that man. Needed him.

And her fingers weren't nearly as good as she dreamed his thick, rough ones would be. Fuck. Breathing heavily, she reached her free hand into the nightstand drawer and grabbed her vibrator, switching it on to the lowest setting and trailing the bright blue toy over her nipples. She moaned louder, the sound muffled by the pillow, and slid it down her stomach, replacing her fingers with the vibe and flicking up the speed of the toy.

One more speed, love. Rowan's imagined voice filled her ears. That's a good girl.

"Rowan," Aelin moaned, pushing the vibrator harder against her clit and flipping on the suction as she flicked it up to its highest speed. "Oh my god, Ro!" Eyes closed, legs spread, fingers twisting her nipples with just the right amount of roughness, her body shook as she fractured, her orgasm tearing through her like wildfire as she pictured Rowan's darkened eyes gleaming up at her from between her legs.

Too slowly, she turned the vibe down and pulled it away, chest heaving as she caught her breath from the powerful orgasm. From the dream that had fueled it.

She really didn't know how she was going to manage spending six hours in a car next to Rowan tomorrow, as if she hadn't just pictured him devouring her pussy while she used her favorite vibrator. On the other side of the wall, she heard a faint shifting of sheets, as if Rowan was just as sleepless as her.

Though that couldn't be possible, since she was the one who'd just gotten off thanks to taking the wrong medicine.

"Aelin..." She jerked upright, half believing she was dreaming. As silently as she could, she pressed her ear to the rather thin hotel wall, listening carefully. On the other side of the wall, Rowan's bed creaked, and he groaned. "Fuck, Aelin!"

Holy. Fuck.

In a split second, Aelin made a Very Bad Decision. She pushed herself out of bed, tugged Rowan's shirt over her bare body, and went to the door that separated their two rooms. Knowing Rowan had left it unlocked, she turned the handle and quietly opened the door and stepped into his room before the embers still sparking in her blood could cool her impulsiveness.

In his bed, Rowan yanked himself upright, his sweaty chest glistening in the slivers of moonlight that spilled in through the gauzy curtains. His eyes widened as he took in her flushed, wild-haired appearance, her parted lips. Her breathing hitched as she drank in his bare skin and the bulge barely hidden beneath the sheets.

"Aelin?" he whispered. Rough, jagged, hopeful.

"Rowan," she breathed. Rough, jagged. Needy.

He pushed the sheets aside and stood, and her knees weakened even as the fire in her blood roared right back to life.

"Come. Here." A demand. A promise.

She dropped her shirt to the floor and did just that.

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

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

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@aelinschild

@renxzs

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sassyhobbits · 13 days

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Dana & Chewy - Leslie Enders Lee , 2003

American , 1946-2009

Oil

#me and milo on the floor after i come home from having 2 glasses of sav blanc w the girls

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sassyhobbits · 16 days

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEAUTIFUL YOUR FIC SLAYS AS ALWAYS

So, it’s my Birthday! This is my present to myself, a little self indulgent single parent au because it’s is my birthday and no one can stop me. I wrote this as part of the @throneofglassmicrofics prompts from last month but I never had the time to polish it off until now. This was for the prompt ambivalence and my plan is to continue this fic with more with neat little 1000 word updates. Good news is I know exactly where it’s going. So please enjoy!

~~~~~

Rowan pulled up to his new place of residence at 9am sharp, just like he planned to. He had flown in from Doranelle two weeks ago and spent the majority of that time coordinating with the real estate and delivery companies so he could get into his new house as efficiently as possible. A new job had brought him to Orynth, and not one for the hustle and bustle of the city he’d found a quaint little house on the very edges of the city outskirts. It was well and truly the suburbs, but he didn’t mind. Rowan never really understood the aversion society seemed to have to them. It was quieter and less busy, more than a wall between one home and the next. What was there not to like?

A mattress and bed frame were the first on the list of things to be delivered, after that it should be his personal items that he had shipped here. Over the next week he’d be waiting on that bell to ring while he got himself settled. After that his break from work would be over and he would be ready to jump guns blazing into his new life. A fresh start was what Rowan needed and what he was determined to get.

At 9:15 there was no sign of his bed, by 9:30 he was still in a house devoid of furniture. Leaning on the kitchen counter was becoming uncomfortable and with nothing to sit on inside he’d chosen to sit on the top step of his front porch, scrolling through his phone while repeatedly looking for delivery updates. Rowan realised that ther morning sunshine was great here, maybe he’d spend his time waiting finding a chair to sit on when he sipped his morning coffee.

The sound of a screen door clanging shut from next door drew Rowan’s attention. Glancing over he saw a woman stepping down from her own porch, wearing a soft looking dressing gown with a small infant cuddled against her chest. Rowan couldn't see much more than that besides a mess of golden hair that fell down the woman’s back, catching the morning sunlight as she walked. She hadn’t noticed him, she just seemed to murmur to the baby in her arms, heading towards the bins, no doubt to set them on the curb like the other houses in the street had. Rowan watched her precariously manoeuvre the first bin one handed, and then come back for the other. That seemed to upset the baby who cried and wiggled, the bin scraping on the concrete of the driveway as the woman had to suddenly let go. Before he knew it Rowan was across his own front yard, stepping over the small line of shrubs into his neighbour’s so he could help her avoid disaster.

It caught the woman’s attention, had her looking over as Rowan got closer and said, “I can get that for you.”

The hostility in her eyes had him stopping before he could even reach for the handle. What really took him aback was how beautiful this woman was. Not that he had expected her not to be, but it was just how striking features were. Her eyes were bright with ire, only emphasising the startling colour of them. Crystal clear turquoise, like a sundrenched shoreline. Her full lips pursed in annoyance and there was a light dusting of freckles across her nose. If he was meeting this woman in some random bar he might have tried his luck. Maybe not if she was looking at him the way she was now—like she was ready to rip out his throat for no apparent reason.

“I can do it myself,” she all but barked at him. “I don’t need any help.”

Rowan backed up a step, his temper prickling at the undeserved hostility. “Certainly didn’t seem that way.”

The woman glared at him. “I don’t need your fucking judgement.”

A scoff might have escaped him if he had a little less self control. “I wasn’t—“

There was no chance to defend himself, the woman ignoring his attempts. “Don’t even bother.”

With that declaration Rowan didn't know what else to do but leave her, retreating to the safety of his lawn, just watching what would unfold next. The baby, who couldn’t be more than six months old—younger even— fussed even more as the next bin was taken down to the curb. Besides a head of thin wispy brown hair and a beige sleepsuit Rowan couldn’t determine much more about from this distance. It was outright crying by the time the woman had reached the front door where she paused to deal with the door. She saw him standing there watching, rolling her eyes with what Rowan could most accurately describe as disgust. Then they were both back inside, the cries loud enough they could still be heard from where he stood. That was not how Rowan expected his first interaction with his new neighbour to go.

All he had tried to do was be nice when she was clearly struggling. Rowan didn’t know if she had misconstrued his intentions or what, it was ending with him being less than impressed with her reaction. He was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt but being sworn at and treated with utter contempt was hard to ignore.

Rowan turned his back on the new neighbours and their house and went back to his front porch step to keep waiting. As he sat there the bitterness of mistreatment settled on him and he decided that keeping to himself was a good idea. It had been his way of life for years now—helped him survive. He was used to the solitude, there was no reason to question its perks now. So Rowan ignored the fading cries and read through reviews on a chair he was looking at, more than happy to focus on his world and nothing else.

~~~~~

It’s my birthday, I can make all the drama that I want. It’s allowed 😂

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sassyhobbits · 17 days

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“My boy,” his father whispered again.

And it was love—love and pride and sorrow that shone in his face.

His father who had been possessed as he had, who had tried to save them in his own way and failed. His father, who had everything taken from him, but had never bowed to Erawan—not entirely.

Art by @sassyhobbits

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sassyhobbits · 18 days

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Maedhros and Maglor.

"pride, jealousy and harp" 😂😂😂

#so pretty

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sassyhobbits · 19 days

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I wanted to find a cute lil quote to go with these, but instead just know that this was inspired by reading all of Separatist_Apologist 's Elucien fanfics. (specifically The Last of the Real Ones, I have so many highlights in my books app) It wasn't the ship I was looking for but I am obsessed now.

The wip I posted yesterday got so much love, but the one thing that I loved seeing tagged was "pythian's ass" so thank u for loving Lucien's peach as much as I do. It's canon now, sorry sjm.

I couldn't decide if I liked it better as just a sketch or with coloring so you get both. 💛

#this is soooo pretttyyy

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sassyhobbits · 20 days

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the queen of terrasen and her bloodsworn

sharing art bc i have no writing😩 but i think this slays (you can see more of my art on my insta @/j.sgrey )

#aelin galathynius #throne of glass #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #lorcan salvaterre #fenrys moonbeam #aedion ashryver #my art

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sassyhobbits · 21 days

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Tom Ford | Fall/Winter 2024

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sassyhobbits · 23 days

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ISA YOURE SPOILING ME I DID ABSOLUTELY ADORE THIS

give her his onliness

elide x lorcan, canon-divergence/circus era, NSFW + feelings, shifting allegiances, word count: 5347

It’s hot, and the smoke in the air mixes with the humidity to form this oppressive fog.

Lorcan feels like he hasn’t had a full lungful of air in days. The weather tightens the lead on his temper, and he’s forced to bite back a snappish remark every other minute.

He’s laying on the riverbank now, his shirt, boots, and socks discarded beside him. Once the sun goes down, he’ll be forced to put on that sticky, dust-collecting oil and go back on that pathetic stage to entertain the peasant masses. He is not a gifted nor humble performer, but that doesn’t deter the bold and foolish few who proposition him after.

As if he could want any of them.

He knows now what it means to really desire someone, and not only as a means for his pleasurable ends. Since that night in the oracle’s tent, he thinks of one thing only, dreams of one thing only.

There's rustling in the trees across the river. He slits open his eyes, making no other movement, to find the subject of his desire.

Elide puts her hands on her hips. His lips twitch - she’s so wondrously stubborn, a trait he would loathe in anyone else. She actually bared her blunt teeth at him once, the brave little thing.

“I know you’re awake,” she accuses him. “We have work to do, you know.”

Lorcan shuts his eyes again. “I am not eager to return,” he says. “If you are, feel free to go.”

The next thing he hears is a soft splashing, and then she’s standing over him. Elide drops her skirts. “What are you doing?”

“I believe it’s called relaxing.”

She nudges him with her foot, and faster than she can react, he captures her ankle. She gasps, hopping slightly to retain her balance. Lorcan lets go when she stumbles so he can catch her falling. Elide glares at him. “You did that on purpose, you brute.” Her small palms are pressed into the muscles of his chest.

“Sit,” he says. “Relax.” He sets her down on the rocks beside him. “We have time.”

Elide huffs a humourless chuckle at that. They don’t, really. They can pretend they do, they can carve it out of stone. He sees the tension around her eyes melt; she relents in silent agreement.

She exhales a sigh that’s too weathered. Lorcan reclines once more and reaches out to press his hand against her back. It may seem casual to an outside view, but the touches between them are never casual. She relaxes when he strokes her spine with his thumb. “It’s too hot,” she complains.

“Take off your clothes.”

“Lorcan!” she snaps, twisting to glare at him. The heat makes her irritable.

He lifts his hands. “I won’t be anything less than a gentleman.”

“You don’t know the meaning of the word.”

He chuckles, “I am not propositioning you. It’s hot, and the river is cool. Bathe in it.” Her eyes are still narrowed. “I won’t look.”

For some reason, that doesn’t eliminate the irritation lining her face; it switches to something else, equally bothered. Lorcan shuts his eyes, too tired to decipher whatever that means. He listens to her stand, and then articles of clothing drop onto the stones, something landing on his chest.

He keeps his eyes shut as she walks away, her steps uneven. Lorcan sends out a little strand of his magic to brace her ankle. Elide hums a bit, and the water splashes as she runs forward with a laugh he seldom hears.

It makes a crooked smile appear on his face. Her joy, to him, is something precious, which he doesn’t fully understand. For the first time in a while, not knowing something doesn’t bother him; he lets it be as it is.

“Lorcan,” she calls him.

“Hmm?”

She clicks her tongue, “Lorcan.”

She wants something, his attention maybe, and he knows it. He smirks to himself. “Yes?”

Next, she does something he doesn’t expect and splashes him. Lorcan sits up with a raised brow. Elide looks back at him with a coy smile, delight shining in her eyes. She moves her hands to splash him again, and he warns her, “Don’t you dare.”

Elide cocks her head to the side. “No?” She pushes the water harder, some of it hitting his torso.

Lorcan stands up, fully ready to charge her and make her regret it, but something tears her gaze from his. She backs away, but not from him, with wide eyes. “Lorcan,” she whispers. He turns and sees that snivelling man, Nik, skulking in the brush.

Anger rolls through him, and no small amount of fear - how did not sense another’s presence? Lorcan moves in front of the mortal man, his lips curling back from his teeth. “What do you think you’re doing?” He looms over Nik, ready to wrench the man off his feet, but Elide as his ever-present observer curbs his murderous urge. “Spying on another man’s wife while she bathes?”

“I- I--”

He reaches down anyway and pulls him to his feet so he can shove him backwards. “Leave, or I will rip your eyes from your skull,” Lorcan seethes. He lowers his voice so Elide can’t hear. “Do not push me, boy. If you think you’ve learned what pain is, I guarantee I can prove you wrong.”

Nik scrambles away, and the scent of his fear makes Lorcan’s nose wrinkle. He watches the man until he’s gone, then faces Elide.

She’s coming out of the river now, stumbling because her arms are wrapped around herself. Lorcan goes to help her. “Elide.”

She shakes her head and lets him pull her close till their bodies press together. Elide won’t look up at him.

“You’re alright,” he tells her.

She doesn’t respond.

Lorcan loosely holds the side of her neck, his thumb brushing her jaw. “Look at me,” he says softly. With a roll of her eyes, she does what he says. He strokes her jaw again. “You’re alright. I’ll always make sure of that.”

Slowly, she nods, her hand lifting to hold his wrist. “I know.” It seems like she means her words.

Whatever peace they found in this oasis has been ruined, and they won’t stay here anymore. He hands her his shirt to dry herself with, but Elide ends up donning it. Lorcan doesn’t let his surprise show as she folds back the sleeves.

He collects the water pails and doesn’t let her carry anything. They’re silent as they return back to camp. Nik avoids them, the only smart thing he’s done today.

Lorcan has no time to talk with her more because Ombriel steals her away to dress her in that ridiculous costume and Molly snaps commands at him.

✵✵✵✵✵

Outside, Molly rings the big bell to signal the end of the night’s show.

Elide wears a brittle smile as she ushers her last customers out of the tent. The minute the fabric doors fall back into place, she rips the gods-forsaken headdress off. She hobbles towards the back where she stashed a jug of water and some cloths. The thick make-up she wears feels like a mask.

She wets a rag and drags it over her cheek, scrubbing at the white paste. She has no idea how something can be both oily and tacky at the same time.

She’s so wrapped up in her need to feel clean that she doesn’t notice the figure approaching from behind.

A hand lands on her shoulder, and she nearly jumps out of her skin.

Elide whirls around with a soft shout, her hand dropping to the knife stashed in her waistband.

“Woah,” Lorcan says, realising his mistake. He backs away with his hands raised. “It’s me, just me.”

Her eyes fall shut. She sighs and reaches out to push his stomach. “Don’t do that.” Elide steps closer to him, needing a refuge. When Lorcan backs away, shirking her presence, she gives him a hurt look.

He shakes his head, explaining, “I’m covered in oil and sweat.” He rolls his shoulders. “I need to clean myself.”

“Here,” she passes him a few cloths and a jug of water.

They work side by side in tandem, cleaning themselves as best they can. Elide wipes at her face until no more white paste comes off. There’s probably more, but she’s too tired to care. She sits down at the table and stares into nothing while Lorcan finishes up.

He joins her a little while later, his long legs stretched out. He’s looking at her, but his gaze is just a little bit off-centred.

“What?”

“You have some more,” he says. Lorcan reaches under her chair to tug it closer; Elide gasps through her nose at the display of strength. “Let me get it.”

She indeed lets him. He’s gentle with the rag, softly wiping the spot behind her jaw and her ears.

He watches her face, depthless eyes tracking every emotion even in their absence. “What’re you thinking about?”

She rouses slightly. Her gaze meets his, hopeless and flat. “I can’t stay here,” she tells him in a hushed tone. “I have to leave.” Elide rubs her sternum with the flat of her palm. “I feel it - in here. I’m not safe.”

“Because of him?”

“It’s not just- today.”

“Where will you go?”

Elide swallows. “Anywhere. I’ll make it work, I’ll find another way.” She lowers her voice even more but knows that he’ll hear it just fine. “They look at us like we’re commodities, Lorcan. They’ll sell us out to the highest bidder.”

“So you’re going?”

“As soon as I can,” she vows.

Lorcan looks at her with heavy eyes, saying something she can’t quite decipher. He puts the cloth down. “It’s late. Bed?”

Her lips quirk with an appreciative smile.

They stand up to leave together, and Elide slips her hand in his elbow. As they walk out, she realises belatedly that her companion is still shirtless. It wrinkles her brow. She asks, “Where is your shirt?”

“Sold it. Got a silver piece this time.”

“Look at you,” she teases, her worry lifted for a moment. “What ever will they do without you?”

Lorcan glowers at the straggling circus-goers that stare at him. They’re shameless, barely even noticing the male’s supposed wife hanging off his arm. His nostrils flare when he sees a familiar piece of black linen clutched against some blushing farm girl’s chest. “Do they have any shame?”

“No, none,” Elide shakes her head.

He mutters something about manners, and she stifles her laughter against his arm. Who would’ve thought that Lorcan Salvaterre could say anything about other people’s propriety? He shrugs off her touch so he can wrap his arm around her. She allows a smirk to show.

They stroll past the caravan and go further, their tent near the forest line.

Just as they’re almost out of ear shot, someone stops them. “Where’s your earnings? We settle every night.”

Lorcan looks over his shoulder with flat eyes. “You’ve had my wife working since sunup, and now we will rest. You’ll get your cut in the morning.” He’s almost daring Molly to say something.

Elide tugs on his belt.

He shifts his eyes to her, and she softly shakes her head, telling him to let it go. He lets out a long suffering sigh. She pulls him along with her, too tired for any more conflict.

Once they’re in the tent, Lorcan puts up a shield of his magic so that it will block any sound or signs of movement from outside even when the candles are lit.

He takes off his boots and pants before reclining on the thick bedroll. Lorcan stretches his arm over his eyes, listening to Elide undress.

She lets out a long breath as she kneels. She swaps her heavy skirts for his buttoned shirt, bare beneath it. Next Elide begins the painstaking process of taking down her hair. The one kind thing Ombriel has done for her is give her a little bag of pins. She pats her coiled braids to find each little metal twine and pulls them out.

Once she’s sure they’re all out, she tries to uncoil her braid, but it holds fast. Elide tips her head back in exhausted frustration, groaning.

She senses more than hears her companion sit up. He passes his hand up her back till it braces the back of her head. Elide mumbles as she turns into him, “Do it for me.”

Lorcan doesn’t say a word as he looks over her scalp, picking out every pin she missed. Which, as it turns out, is quite a few. She thinks he’s going to stop now, but he also undos her braid. Elide leans her cheek against his chest. They sit in a comfortable silence, and he starts to stroke her hair. It’s slightly awkward at first, like he’s petting something, but it becomes more natural soon enough.

He asks when she hasn’t moved for a while, “‘lide? Are you asleep?”

She hums, “Not yet.” She lifts her head up. “Are you tired, Lorcan?” He raises a brow. “Because I am. I feel like I’ve been tired all my life.”

It’s wrong, he thinks, for someone her age to be wearied. He should not feel that her soul mirrors his. “Lie down,” he says. “I’ll let you sleep.”

They both know that’s not the kind of exhaustion she speaks of. His side prickles, cold now that she’s moving away. He returns to his spot and watches her when she reclines, about a foot of space between them. She curls on her side, facing him. Lorcan reaches out, “C’mere.”

Elide’s eyes open quickly. She looks surprised as she eyes his outstretched arm, the space he’s providing for her on his bedroll. She goes to the protection he’s offering.

Despite the difference in their size, they fit together so well. The dip between his shoulder and torso provides the perfect crook for her cheek. She hesitates slightly, not sure where to put her arms. Lorcan drags his fingers up her forearm till their hands meet.

They remain silent now. Elide looks up at his face. The flickering candlelight casts shadows across his harshly hewn features. His cheekbones jut out, just as proud as the aquiline ridge of his nose. She swallows when she stares at his lips, full and round.

She wants to feel them against hers once more.

Elide moves a hand up to his jaw and turns his face towards hers. His eyes open, just a bit, a question in them. Before he can ask it, she kisses him. It’s a little off - she’s still new at this, unfamiliar with the mechanics of it all.

Lorcan responds slowly, guiding the embrace into something smoother, less choppy. Elide feels herself sinking into it. She cups his face as he pulls her closer. He shifts onto his side so there’s more room for her to be pressed against him.

The hand that held hers moulds to her waist.

Her breath comes faster when he forces them to part. He stays close, though, and they share the same air. “What do you want?”

“You.”

He rubs her side. “Like how you wanted me the other night?”

She nods, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth.

“D’you want to fuck, Elide?”

She recoils at the term, denying its aggression. “No,” she says. Her eyes search his. “I want to be with you,” she presses her palm over his heart, feeling its thunderous beat. “I want you .”

His face softens. Lorcan brings her back to him for a gentle kiss. She doesn’t know why he does that. It’s like he’s trying to force her back by being too harsh.

Elide lets those thoughts float away. She parts her mouth when his tongue slides over her lips.

His tongue against hers makes that tight, expectant feeling return to her belly and lower. He slopes a hand down her spine to her backside. She inhales through her nose, exhaling with a soft moan.

When Lorcan pulls his mouth from hers, she lets out a disappointed sound that he quickly soothes, kissing her jaw instead. She tips her head up for further access, her hand curling around the back of his neck. “Yes,” she sighs, biting her lip as he sucks at her skin.

He teases her with the edge of his teeth and finds that one sensitive spot. She shudders slightly.

Lorcan hums against her throat.

That spark blooms in her centre, making her twist her hips for relief. His hand moves to her thigh so he can bring her leg over his hips. Elide swallows, her breath faster. Slowly, she rocks her hips against him. She could cry at the reprieve it gives her.

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Take what you want.”

It’s not enough.

She realises she spoke aloud when he lifts his head, now helping her movements. “Is that what you need?”

Elide shakes her head, chasing his lips. “More,” she mumbles against them. The feeling of his shirt against her skin is too warm now, she wants to feel his flesh instead. She scrapes her fingers down his chest, following the dark hair that trails beneath his waistband.

Lorcan catches her hand. In a quick motion, he’s got her flat on her back, wrist pressed against the padded ground. “I can give you more,” he swears. “I can give you everything.”

She nods, wanting that. She thinks he’s going to kiss her again, but he props himself up on an elbow. Elide waits in anticipation.

He fingers one of the buttons on his shirt, asking her permission. Elide nods again, battling against the urge to rut her hips against his thigh.

As the shirt falls from her body, the cool air makes her shiver. His gaze falls to her chest, as he’s wont to do. She smiles to herself, slightly smug. Unlike the other times that people gawk at her body, she likes seeing the desire force the black of his pupils to overtake his iris.

Lorcan drags the backs of his fingers up her stomach till he can grasp her breast. She curves her spine into his touch, a gasp falling from her lips when his thumb circles the peak. He lowers his mouth to the other one, lapping at it before pressing it against his teeth.

Elide moans loudly before slapping her hand over her mouth.

He looks up, then softly draws her hand away. “They can’t hear,” he promises. “The shield blocks it.” A strand of his magic snakes up her leg from her ankle. It feels cool against her hot skin. The inherent danger behind it makes her grow wet like last time.

She squirms a bit. He kisses the heavy underside of her breast and then tracks his lips lower, to the cradle of her hips. Elide pushes herself up onto her elbows, “Whatareyoudoing?”

His thumb strokes the inside of her thigh, soothing. “Do you trust me, Elide?”

She nods choppily because she does, but she has no idea what he’s trying to do now, nor why he’s so far down. Lorcan presses his lips to the hollow of her hip, making her head tip back. “Oh.”

“Last time,” he murmurs, brushing kisses across her pelvis to the other hip. “I used my hand, remember?” She huffs a laugh - how could she not? He grins against her skin, then nips at the delicate flesh stretched over her hipbone. “I want to use my mouth this time.”

“People do that?” she asks, purely curious. “You would put-” she gestures, “down there? How?”

“With my tongue,” he says, then drags it over the junction between her leg and centre. “Or my teeth,” he bites her and sucks to create a little mark. “And my lips.” He kisses her then, hands sloping to the undersides of her thighs.

“But… why?” Elide feels her cheeks growing red. She’s had it in her head her whole life that her own body is something to shy away from, an unfortunate embarrassment to deal with.

“I like making you feel good. And it will, I promise.”

Elide nods as she breathes hard. “Yes.” She crashes onto her back, her arms giving up. He guides her legs over his shoulders, and when she doesn’t know where to put her hands, he guides them to his hair.

She grips the silken strands with a hum.

Her eyes fly open when his thumb splits down her slit, his tongue lapping at that spot. She moans a bit, eager to watch him.

She tries to pay attention as he uses his mouth on her, but with every moment, that arousal within her heightens till he’s stroking her towards that end - the climax.

His tongue dips inside her, curling against the front for a second. Then, he’s pressing sloppy kisses against her cunt. Lorcan’s hum vibrates through her. Elide gasps, not quite sure she’s breathing properly.

Apparently she’s moving too much since he bars a corded forearm across her lower stomach. She tries to push her hips against it, but he holds her fast.

Lorcan sucks on that little bundle of nerves, flicks the tip of his tongue against it.

She starts babbling, saying all sorts of stuff but what comes out are repetitions of his name and ragged breaths.

Her release catches her by surprise, so much quicker than before. She feels her body tightening again and she stops breathing for a second. Elide pushes up on his arm without realising how tight her legs are around his head. Her fingers find purchase in his hair to pull ; she needs something to keep her on this earth.

“Oh, my gods,” she cries out. “Lorcan, Lor…”

He rises above her, and her legs fall to his hips, calves lying across his backside. Lorcan joins slowly, busy with tracking kisses up her torso. She slips her hands to the sides of his neck when he presses his lips to hers.

Elide blushes, realising she can taste herself. She notices a second or two later that she doesn’t mind it, actually.

She opens her legs to let his body fit between them. One of his arms slips under her body and he winds his fingers in her hair. Their bodies grind together. She can feel that hardness beneath his undershorts. It makes her bite his bottom lip.

Lorcan chuckles, “Vicious.”

She grins against his mouth. Feeling bold, she trails her hand down his stomach. She relishes the way his body shudders, his head bending to watch her hand. Elide scrapes her teeth against his jaw and pushes her hand lower.

He groans, pressing into the contact. “Lochan,” he bites out, his voice rough. “I, fuck…”

Elide nods even though he hasn’t asked her anything. “Please,” she says.

They part so they can both rid themselves of all clothes.

When they come back together, he kisses her deeply. Elide holds his shoulders, relishing in the way his weight bears on her.

Lorcan fists himself to slowly drag his cock up and down her sex. Small noises fall from her lips, muffled by his, as he teases her. She moves her pelvis in time with him. “Please,” she repeats. “I want it.”

He hums, notching the head of his length inside her. Elide swallows. “You want it?”

She nods and is rewarded by another inch. “You want me?” he asks.

“Yes.” The word escapes her throat, desperate.

He continues like that, teasing her with a slow entrance while he asks her questions, only moving when she answers.

Elide feels like her lungs are in her chest when she’s taken all of him. She can feel him in her, and the walls of her sex flutter errantly. She puffs out some air, her eyes unable to focus on anything.

“Breathe,” he tells her, stroking her side. “Elide, breathe.” He inhales and exhales dramatically until she starts to copy him, her gaze locking on him. “Look at me, just me.”

She exhales shakily as he pulls out to thrust back in. Elide swears she’s trying to focus on him, but with every roll of his hips, her eyelids flutter. She wants to lose herself to this feeling. Whatever moment of peace they can steal away, she wants to stay in it.

“Lor,” she moans out.

He slips his arm under her knee and pushes it closer to her chest. He hits deeper now, each stroke rubbing against that spot inside of her. “Elide,” he pants, “Elide, Elide, Elide, darling.”

His breath is ragged and his head bows to press their brows together. Elide arches her back with a moan when he thrusts into her, her hands squeezing his shoulders.

“‘lide, I promised to keep you safe,” whispers Lorcan, panting. “Elide, don’t go, don’t fucking leave me.” His voice is that of a broken person. It sounds like he’s on his knees before her. The most feared male throughout the kingdom begging her to stay. “I—“ he cuts himself off with a pleasured groan, his hand sliding down from her waist to grab her thigh, “I want—“

She presses her lips to his, hoping her answer was clear through her kiss. It’s hungry and deep like she’s trying to meld them into one being. Lorcan responds similarly, stilling inside of her with his hips pressed tightly against hers. A lump of emotions form in her throat and her eyes sting with tears. No one has ever wanted her to stay, no one has ever pleaded for her the way he does. Nobody, nobody, nobody, in her whole life.

Tears leak past her lashes, trickling down her temples. He must realise because he draws back with a sharp inhale. Elide makes a sound of protest, wanting to tell him to ignore it, it’s not the time—

“Darling…” he murmurs. He hangs his head in defeat. “Don’t tell me. If you’re going, don’t tell me.”

She blinks up at him, her hands cupping the sides of his face. “Look at me,” Elide says softly.

Lorcan shakes his head, mumbling something indistinctive. He tries to shift, to pull out of her, but Elide tightens her thighs around his hips.

“Look at me,” she repeats.

He slowly drags his gaze up to hers.

“You are stupid,” Elide says. His brows draw together and she runs her finger over the crease that forms. “You are the stupidest male that has ever existed if you think that I-“ her voice catches and she sniffles, “would leave you .” He raises his head, stricken with wordless surprise. She rolls her eyes, clicking her tongue. “Och, you’re making me cry.”

A small smile glimmers on his lips, and Lorcan dips his face to kiss her soft skin. “Forgive me, darling.” She hums neutrally and he slowly rolls his hips, pulling out and filling her again.

Elide gasps wetly, still tearful. Her hands immediately grab his shoulders once more as she squeezes her thighs around his hips. She lets out a low moan, her head falling back, “Oh…”

Her arms wrap around his neck to pull him closer. In this new position, she’s barely giving him any room to move, but he makes do. Elide thinks that the last time they did this, her first time ever, it was pleasurable and he satisfied her, but now, this is something else entirely.

She sighs into his ear, then bites the lobe. Lorcan’s teeth press into her neck, long canines almost breaking the skin. It makes her tip her head back again; she wants him to do it. Instead, he simply kisses her pulse and whispers, “Not yet.”

A moan breaks from her throat, maybe it’s the implicit promise or his touch, but whatever it is, Elide wants more. She tries to squeeze her legs tighter, wanting him closer, wanting him deeper. “Lorcan,” she pants. She makes a frustrated sound.

“Mm, what? What d’you need?”

“More.” She swallows. “You, I need you.”

Lorcan swears to her, “You have me.” He’ll give her anything she asks for, go to any length to preserve her contentment. He’ll bleed out to see her happy smile, one she wears in utter serenity. Just to stop himself from telling her, he kisses her.

Elide arches into him as she inhales sharply. She slides the pink tip of her tongue across his lips, which part on an exhale. Their embrace grows deeper and brings them even closer.

His weight bears on her when he grinds his hips against her pelvis. Elide shudders a bit, feeling it float out there - it’s so close. She whimpers softly and pulls away to stare up at him. His laboured breaths fan over her cheek.

An attempt is made to tell him, needing someone to ground her. Her mouth won’t form the words, though, and it gets harder to think, her mind fuzzy.

Lorcan nods. He understands her. “I know,” he murmurs. “Just feel it, it’s alright, darling.” He fucks into her a little harder, losing his control, and she moans, a wild and loud sound. “Let it come, ‘lide.”

She shuts her eyes when her body starts to tighten. Air doesn’t leave her chest as easily, and she thinks she’s about to faint. “Please,” she sighs. “I,” she swallows, “I want it…”

Elide cries out his name as she finishes. He bites her at the peak and lets his canines break skin. She holds the back of his neck so tight her nails make crescents. Through it, his hips don’t still, which both prolongs her pleasure and overwhelms her scrambled mind.

She gasps when he reaches his own end, pulling out quickly. Lorcan cums with his face in her shoulder, his fingers digging into her hard. Elide blushes when she feels his spend smearing across her stomach.

The tent fills with the sounds of their uneven breathing. They lie together as sweat and his release cools rapidly.

Goosebumps appear on the sides of her thighs. She grunts softly, nudging Lorcan. His hand rubs the outside of her leg. “What is it?”

“I’m cold.”

He presses his lips to the purpling skin where he dug his teeth in. He whispers an apology that she shakes her head and pulls his face up to kiss. “Don’t, I wanted it.”

He groans with some frustration. They exchange soft pecks until she knows they must part. Elide hated this part last time. She felt alone the second his back turned, even though he was only fetching her a shirt and a cloth to clean her with.

This time, she still feels off but doesn’t fear being abandoned. Her body sinks into the thick bedroll, and she hugs her arms over her chest to stave off the chill. She lets her eyes fall shut; they’re begging for it. If she tries, she still might not move at all.

“Darling,” he says softly. Her heart warms at the term, and she lets him pull her up. Lorcan tosses a scrap of fabric into the corner after wiping her stomach clean. Elide feels sluggish as he helps her into his shirt once more, a different one this time. He smooths her hair back.

She smiles a bit, then pitches herself against him. “Sleep?”

Lorcan hums in agreement and they lie down once more. She curls against his side. He’s never been one for intimacy post-coitus, but with her he wraps her in his arms so she’s pressed into his chest. A blanket covers them and could offer her sufficient warmth, yet he endeavours to keep her close. His hand fits in the cradle of her waist.

Elide idly traces the line of his collarbone, tiredness forcing her words to slur. “Will you come with me?”

“I will.”

“For how long?”

“However long you want,” he murmurs, a vow.

She wonders outloud, “What if I want you forever?”

“I will be with you always.”

She smiles against his hot skin and drifts off with a warm feeling in her chest. When they wake to steal away before the sun, she’ll realise that it’s hope.

✵✵✵✵✵

an: ive had the last scene rolling around my head for a while but didnt know where to fit it, so im pretty happy abt finishing this! we'll see if this writing/posting thing continues but i am headed into finals soon soooo boo!

tag list: @sassyhobbits @empress-ofbloodshed @celestialend @the-regal-warrior @shyvioletcat @icecream52 @elentiyawhitethorn @goddess-aelin @julemmaes @sunshinebingo (lmk if u want to be added/removed)

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sassyhobbits · 25 days

Text

isa I've sorely missed ur elorcan this was glorious

our little corner of the world

elide x lorcan, modern/gilmore girls world, newly established relationship + municipal politicking tomfoolery, word count: 3125

It’s a perfect morning - a peaceful one. Sun streams through the window, but a strategically placed tree shades the sleeping couple from being blinded by the brightest rays.

Elide sleeps with all four of Lorcan’s pillows piled beneath her head while the man has made himself comfortable against the flat mattress. The migration happened during the night. She has one of his arms and clutches it like a personal plush, her cheek smushed against his bicep. All is calm until it’s shattered by his ancient alarm.

She whines, most displeased, as Lorcan reaches over to slam the button. “Forgot to turn it off,” he says by way of explanation, still halfway to consciousness.

“Bad alarm, bad, bad alarm,” Elide mumbles. She comes out of her cocoon of blankets and pillows to burrow against him. “What time is it?”

Lorcan strokes her hair. “Early.”

Her face is pressed into his chest; she leaves a kiss above his heart. “Hate early. Must kill early.” As much as she resents the alarm for disturbing their rest, she knows it’s a good thing because otherwise, she would’ve slept the whole day away. “I gotta get up.” Elide slits her eyes open and slowly takes in Lorcan’s apartment. She’s never been able to appraise it from this angle before.

“Why?” His arm tightens around her.

“Work. Bookstore. Buy books for bookstore.”

“I’ll buy you all the books you want if you stay,” Lorcan promises.

“You’d do that anyway,” she grins against his warm brown skin. Despite her words, Elide’s limbs remain immobile. “I need coffee.”

He scratches her head. “You drink too much of that stuff. It’s stuntin your growth.” Elide has no quippy reply for his comment (she’d need coffee for that). “And I don’t have coffee up here, s’all in the diner.”

She makes a noise like she’s crying. “Downstairs? I have to go all the way downstairs?”

Lorcan sighs, “Gimme five minutes, and I’ll get it.”

“Mnh-mnh, big guy, you - stay.” Elide kisses his chest three times before pushing herself up. Her boyfriend looks up at her through slitted eyes, one brow raised in question. She doesn’t usually decline his offer to do something for her if she doesn’t want to. “You deserve lots and lots of rest.”

His confusion melts into a smug smirk as he recalls the previous night. “I mean,” he huffs a small laugh, “half of that was you.”

She smacks him with a pillow, “It was not, and you know it.”

“Maybe I do.” Lorcan has already closed his eyes once more. As she slips out of bed, he asks, “Where’re you goin? Wait, woman.”

But Elide has already buttoned up his flannel over her bare body and scampers over to the door. She goes down to the diner without a worry in the world.

And just as she’s thinking about what she’ll plan for their date tonight, Elide realises that the diner is not, as she assumed, closed and empty. She freezes in the archway like a deer in headlights. The usual breakfast crew is there, all sitting in their normal places. It’s so normal that even Elide’s spot at the bar is empty.

Silence falls over the diner. Somebody’s fork clatters onto their plate. Coffee is choked on.

Without a word, she turns and flees back to Lorcan’s apartment.

She slams his door behind her, much to his chagrin. “Why so loud,” he mutters.

Her cheeks are flaming red as she scurries back to his bed. Elide stands above him with her hands on her hips. “Lorcan.”

He lifts his arm off of his face. His eyes dip to his shirt. “Why’re you wearin that?”

“To go get coffee. Downstairs.”

Lorcan blinks, then rubs his eyes. He sits up, “You- went downstairs to get coffee?”

“Well, you don’t keep any upstairs.”

“The diner’s open.”

Elide opens her mouth in a farce of shock. “No, really?”

He looks down again. “You walked into the diner like that?”

She pulls a face and sits down on the edge of his bed, one leg tucked beneath her. “I didn’t think the diner could open without you.”

“Luca opened for me,” Lorcan points out unhelpfully. He reaches over to rub her thigh supportively.

“Well, he did, with a floor show.” Elide tilts her head as she looks at him, her hand finding his. “I guess everyone knows now.”

Lorcan leans in to give her a small kiss. In an effort to soothe her, though it doesn’t really work, he says cautiously, “I don’t hear a mob after you. Maybe they won’t care.”

“Right. It’ll be town gossip for, what, a week?”

“A few, maybe.”

Elide tips her forehead against his. “In six months, it’ll be old news.”

“You got it, sweetheart.” He lightly bites her pouty bottom lip. “Where’s your coffee?” She gives him a look, and Lorcan nods, “I’m getting your coffee.” With a great big groan, he hauls himself out of bed. In doing so, he leaves a perfectly warm spot for Elide to lie back down in.

“I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave,” she croons.

He shakes his head as he dons his daily uniform of baggy jeans, a t-shirt, and yet another flannel from the unending supplier of flannels (his closet).

“Can you get me coffee to go, too? And make it iced, please.”

“The only way I’m gettin you two coffees before seven is with breakfast too.” With his hands on his hips, he stares her down till she concedes, never one to wantonly fuel her coffee dependency.

“Make it a breakfast burrito, and you got a deal.”

✵✵✵✵✵

“How in the hell did I get rooked into this,” Lorcan grumbles as he locks the diner doors. He sports an impressive glare when he faces Elide.

“Um, I’m irresistible?”

He nods like that’s a given. “Yeah, well, have I mentioned I hate town meetings? It’s an hour of Darrow pushing his fascist control of this town. We’re there to listen to his propaganda.”

“Oh, wow, someone’s peppy tonight.” She slips her hand into the crook of his elbow and tucks herself in tight next to him as they walk across the square. “You usually save the big words for later.”

Lorcan gives her another displeased look.

Elide chuckles. “Will you feel better if I promise we won’t stay for long? Just enough to get the headlines. And,” she reaches into her purse, “I bought chocolate raisins just for you, even though you know I find them to be an abomination - an affront to the very institution of candy.” She shakes the box in front of him till he cracks a grin.

He takes the chocolate raisins happily. “Alright, fine, I’ll behave tonight. But do not get used to me coming to these town meetings. Or any other town gathering for that matter. I won’t go just because you like ‘em.”

She nods sagely, “Other than tonight?”

“Other than tonight,” Lorcan concedes as they walk up the steps into the town hall. He sighs before opening the door to hold it for Elide.

And while she steps in past him, she says, “And next Thursday.”

“No- what the hell is next Thursday? I did not agree to next Thursday.”

“Um, shh,” she gestures to the town meeting they’re ten minutes late to. “Don’t interrupt, baby, it’s rude.” A cheeky grin plays on her lips.

Lorcan tugs on the back of her leather jacket, and Elide ignores it, focussed on finding their seats.

She spots Aelin next to Rowan, who waves them over. “We saved you some,” Aelin stage-whispers as she moves her jacket and purse. “I almost fought Mort, these people are animals.”

Elide thanks her friend and takes her seat. Lorcan nods to Rowan, who offers a commiserating smile (they have similar opinions on the town politicking).

The matter on the floor right now is the recent fender bender between Borte, the town mechanic, and Yeran, her fiancé and business partner. After Lorcan sits, he drapes his arm across the back of Elide’s chair, letting her lean against him. They watch Borte and Yeran reenact the accident. She accuses him of not looking in his mirror before he backed into the street, thus smashing his back end into Borte’s front bumper as she turned the corner.

“I didn’t see you, and I distinctly remember looking into my mirror,” Yeran insists.

“Liar! You did not see me,” Borte argues back. “You came outta that driveway like it was your personal F1 track!”

Lorcan lowers his head to ask Elide. “Did we really come here to watch Borte and Yeran fight, again?”

“That’s not the whole reason,” she says. She holds up a red vine to him. “Hungry?”

He takes the candy, even though he doesn’t really like them. “We’re getting dinner before the movie,” he points out, seeing as Elide has a deep variety of snacks and candy stashed in her purse.

“Uh-huh, I know.”

With a smile, he moves his arm to her neck in an effort to tug her closer and kiss her head. She rests her hand on his thigh, settling in for the show.

Ten minutes later, Darrow puts the issue to a vote. Elide eagerly raises her hand in Borte’s favour (it goes without saying that Lorcan abstains from voting). Unfortunately for Borte, the majority sides with Yeran, and the fender bender issues ends with a decisive strike of Darrow’s gavel. Borte walks back to her seat after making a vaguely threatening gesture to her fiancé.

“Alright, let’s move on to the next order of business,” Darrow peruses his agenda, then raises his brows as he nods, “Ah, yes, well.” He pushes his glasses up, then steeples his hands on the podium, looking over the crowd. “A very serious matter has been brought to our attention.”

In a lowered voice, Lorcan says to Elide. “Who d’you think drew the chalk outline this time?”

She smothers her laughter against his arm, “Shh, Darrow’s gonna kick us out.” The matters are never serious; they have never been serious in the history of Orynth, but damn if they don’t make for the best entertainment.

“I would like to bring to the floor for discussion the possible negative ramifications of the bookstore owner and the diner owner dating.”

Elide and Lorcan sit up straight. She gasps, “That’s us.”

“They’re talking about us.”

Darrow continues over the general hubbub of the audience. “As we’ve all been made aware, the relationship we feared for some time has emerged, and we need to carefully consider whether or not we can support this.”

“Oh, for Anneith’s sake,” Elide exclaims.

Lorcan gestures between the two of them, raising his voice, “Yo, we’re sittin right here.”

“Yes,” Darrow smiles, holding his hand out to Lorcan, “we see you, Lorcan, and as a member of the town, you are welcome to voice your own opinion.”

The man shakes his head, turning to Elide as he speaks, “'Voice my opinion', it’s my—“

Darrow sharply raps his gavel, which makes Lorcan’s eye twitch and a fierce frown come down on his brow. He folds his arms across his chest.

“I open the floor up for discussion.”

“Hey—“

Several hands fly up, some even waving to snatch Darrow’s attention. He shrugs, “Alright, I’ll start.”

Elide rubs Lorcan’s arm to work him off the ledge.

“Lorcan’s diner is a staple in this town,” the selectman starts. “Most of us eat there on a regular basis. The Perranth Book Emporium, though newer than Lorcan’s diner, has also become very important in our community of Orynth.” He uses his hands to gesture things coming together as he makes his next point, “The commingling of the owners of these two establishments can only set the stage for disaster.”

“What is he talking about,” Lorcan grumbles.

“He’s not happy with our commingling,” she giggles.

“I am.”

“Well, why should that matter? Think about the consequences.”

But of course Darrow isn’t finished. “Think of the consequences, people,” he insists, leaning over the podium. “What will happen when the relationship goes sour, as, let’s face it, most of Elide’s relationships have so far?”

“Hey,” Elide speaks up, her eyes darting around the hall as people nod in agreement. Lorcan watches hurt briefly cloud her eyes and thins his lips, settling into his chair as he levels a deadened, violence-promising glare upon Darrow.

“We’ll have to choose. Soon you’ll be a Lorcan or an Elide - you’ll either get to eat or read. And that’s bad for the economy, bad for the town. So,” Darrow raises his hand, “I vote against this.”

“It isn’t a voting matter,” Elide calls out, but her voice is drowned in the crowd.

Philippa cautions, “I think you’re overreacting, Darrow. What’s wrong with a couple youngins in love, huh?”

“People, do I have to remind you about Lithaen and Chaol, huh?”

“Who cares?” Lorcan crows.

“Well, you know, they fell in love - big romance,” Philippa says, and the audience murmurs in agreement.

Darrow nods, “And for a while, it went very well, synergistically. They seemed to match, until Lithaen met Roland.”

“Oof, that was bad,” someone says. “The whole town split right down the middle.”

“Eventually, the hostility forced Lithaen to move.”

“And as for Chaol, well,” Philippa winces, and there’s a general murmur of sorrowful agreement.

Seizing the moment, Darrow capitalises on the town’s unsureness. “Those storefronts remained empty for a year - no one wanted to be there.”

The people sitting beside Lorcan and Elide say something to the tune of ‘maybe he has a point’. He’s seen a lot of insanity (Elide insists it’s just small town quirkiness) in this town, but this is too much. “You people are psychotic, you know that? One day someone’s gonna do a study on you, Darrow.”

The crowd erupts into energetic speech, some voices like Aelin and Fenrys egging the others on, some agreeing with Lorcan that this is absurd and to live and let live, while others take Darrow’s side. He bangs his gavel to restore peace, but it only worsens the cacophony.

Elide’s wincing, holding one hand to her ear, “Ok - this is a little much.” She waves her phone, tilting her head to the door. “I have to call the warehouse.”

Lorcan nods, “Save yourself.”

As she stands, she says, “Don’t take it to heart, it’s just Darrow being Darrow.”

“Uh-huh.”

He won’t listen to her, she knows, and Elide leaves so she can make the call to her wholesale guy. Right now is the only hour she can catch him with the time zone differences.

It’s a short call, only ten minutes, and she thinks foolishly that the whole issue is done with.

All her hopes get dashed the minute she steps foot back inside. In five minutes, Darrow has put out charts and graphs of the town, different sections segregated in either purple dots or black stripes. The general volume rises to incensed chaos as he taps the posters with his retractable telescopic pointer. Elide’s mouth drops open; she looks around in dismay. Now Lorcan will never come to another town meeting.

In the midst of it all, the most shocking thing is that Lorcan is still firmly in his seat. She goes over to him. His elbows brace on his thighs as he bounces his leg up and down.

“-don’t make the northwest of the lake Elide’s spot,” Mme Florine announces with a resounding slam of her cane. “Everyone knows that’s where Lorcan fishes.”

Elide mutely realises these are charts of the town in the event of their breakup. The purple dots represent her proposed areas, the black stripes Lorcan’s. She dumbly sits back down as Mme Florine and Brullo start shouting at each other across the hall.

Before she can say a word or even think about something to say, Lorcan is up on his feet. “Alright, I’m done with this,” he announces, his voice booming over the others. He stalks up to Darrow’s podium. “This relationship is mine.” Lorcan rips the charts off their stands, sending them to the town hall floor. He points at Darrow, “Not yours.” He turns around and speaks to the crowd. “Not yours, not yours, not yours,” he sees Elide and specifies, “yours, and no one else’s.” Gesturing between him and Elide, Lorcan repeats, “Ours, and no one else’s. There’s not going to be a vote, and it’s not going to be a matter for the town hall on whether or not I get to be in a relationship with Elide, because we are in a relationship.”

Elide grins, big and cheesy.

Darrow sputters, “But- in the event of a breakup—“

“There’s not going to be a breakup,” Lorcan snaps.

In the crowd, Borte heckles, “Isn’t he the optimistic fellow?”

He rounds on her, his jaw tight enough to crack a molar. “Fine. If - if - Elide and I ever break up, I will close my diner, and I will move far, far away to a place where they’re never heard of Orynth, and you will never hear from me again. Happy? Every section can be purple polka dots.”

“Are you willing to sign an agreement that attests to that,” Darrow leans over the podium.

“Sure, and then I’ll wipe my ass with whatever you write that down on,” Lorcan promises.

“There’s no need to be crass,” Darrow tuts his tongue. He turns to one of the council people. “Get that down, and keep our notes far away from him.” Addressing the assembly, Darrow bangs his gavel again, “The issue of Lochan and Salvaterre versus Orynth has been resolved. Meeting adjourned, and we’ll see you all next week!”

Everyone stands, still in a tizzy about the new developments and Lorcan’s outburst (his stoic reputation far outweighs that of his temper, and he’s not known for public displays of anything really). He puts the boards to the side, and when he turns, Elide is standing there as she bounces on her toes. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He bends down to kiss her cheek. He feels a little embarrassed about his outburst now. “Uh, sorry about-“ he gestures at the boards, “that whole… show. I know you like these meetings an’ stuff, I just—“

She tugs him down and cuts him off with a kiss, catching him off guard. The balance is off, but before she can fall flat on her ass, Lorcan catches her around her waist to keep her upright. When they break apart, they don’t go far.

“You should defend my honour in public more often.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You’d really move away if we broke up?”

He cracks a grin, “But there’s not going to be a break up.”

She nods, “Right you are.”

✵✵✵✵✵

an: total rip off of s5e3 but anyway ! hope u enjoyed :)

tag list: @sassyhobbits @empress-ofbloodshed @celestialend @the-regal-warrior @shyvioletcat @icecream52 @elentiyawhitethorn @goddess-aelin @julemmaes @sunshinebingo

#elorcan

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