you make me want to live

May 2026

tiny moves by @nonotwithoutu | +18 | one of the guys on bucky's team has been going on about his wife's pregnancy, and after a particularly long mission apart from you, he's been having some thoughts. it turns out he's not the only one.

in the red dark by @sergeantxrogers | His eyes trapped yours in their vice-like grip as he stared up at you, fingers brushing against the hem of your jeans, and you swallowed heavily. You felt the rush of alcohol in your head fizzle out into smoke and embers as you sobered up quicker than you ever have in your life.

by @aquaticmercy

Waffles and Ice Cream | fluff | Neither you and Bucky were ready for your son’s first day of school. 

Emergency Contact | After dating for six months, Bucky is now your emergency contact. Yelena, your best friend, finds out the hard way.

by @blowingbarnes

Teacher's Pet | +18 | series | Professor Barnes is the absolute worst type of professor. He doesn’t know how to teach, he wants you to already know all the answers. And you… poor you, living for academic validation.

Passenger Princess | +18 | Lee Bodecker x reader | First date with Lee after so so much tension and he’s not nearly as stealthy as he wishes he was. You don’t mind it though.

fluff moment by @smorgaswhored | fluff | fluffy sugar daddy bucky moment.

by @buckybarnes82

Tech gone wrong. | fluff | A mission going wrong leads to you getting minorly injured. You and Bucky both stay in a safe house together, and when the thought of looming feelings comes to the forefront, do you both finally admit how you feel?

Valentine’s | fluff | Valentine’s Day was always one of those “holidays” you didn’t care much for, until you met Bucky.

by @buckyscaptain

SKINNY JEANS | you never got the whole fighting in skinny jeans thing, so as team movie night turns into just the two of you, you decide to bring it up.

I'M YOUR SWEETHEART? | having your appendix removed has you waking up wondering what's real and what's not, your boyfriend included.

by @witchywithwhiskey

something brutal and beautiful | +18 | when your car breaks down on the way to your parents' cabin, Bucky Barnes comes to your rescue. you end up staying in the unfamiliar alpha's cabin longer than you expected, with his far-too-enticing scent driving your omega wild. then, the atmosphere in the cabin shifts suddenly and the tension that's been building finally snaps.

safe and sound | comf | you're alone at your parents' summer cottage with your dad's best friend bucky barnes when a thunderstorm strikes in the middle of the night and the childhood fear that has followed you into adulthood rears its head—so all you can do is ask bucky if you can sleep with him.

safe and sound part 2 | +18 | you've fallen asleep in the arms of your dad's best friend bucky barnes, but when the thunderstorm that found you in his bed wakes you, things between you and bucky turn from comforting cuddling into something more.

on the clock | +18 | feeling unfulfilled by your job, you sign up to become a member of the Pleasure Portal network, which allows you to have sex with monsters around the world for money. then, when you connect with an anonymous monster on a boring summer day at the office, it leads to an afternoon delight—and something more.

knocked up by the mafia enforcers on halloween night | +18 | stucky x reader | tired of your boring, lonely life as a mafia princess, you go out on halloween looking for a little fun, and end up running into two of your father's most feared enforcers. you expect them to ruin your night, but maybe they're exactly who you need to make your life more meaningful.

careful what you beg for | +18 | one night, you go to sleep naked, which turns out to be an unintended invitation for an incubus—one he can't resist.

by @vunblr

Brown Sugar and Gunmetal | +18 | comf | Who would have thought that an inconspicuous vent in a bakery alley would be what brought them together: the omega who never felt right with any alpha, and the asset who wasn't supposed to want at all.

A Star Without a Sky | +18 | A wounded Sheriff Barnes seeks shelter in a young widow’s home, and finds himself wrapped in a warmth he no longer believes he deserves, and longing for something he thought long buried.

the grooms best by @apricotsflavors | Your brothers wedding is coming up, as much as you are exited, you dread the whole rehearsals scheme of it. To make matters worse your brother has named Bucky Barnes as his best man; meaning you’ll have to face him after all these years. The same Bucky Barnes you had a one night stand years back, that stupid teenage summer romance, before he ghosted you to go to college.

it's been a long, long time by @buckytakethewheel | series | Sergeant Bucky Barnes from the 107th gets injured a lot. And when he does, there's only one pair of hands he allows near him.

Redamancy by @renxzs | Maybe it was a bit naive to think moving in with your best friend and long-time crush, Bucky Barnes, was going to be some smooth road that led to an admittance of mutual feelings for one another and a happily-ever-after ending, wrapped up nicely in a bow. Naive indeed; especially when you have to consider the fact that Bucky is the biggest womanizer you know.

JAMES? by @you-have-a-metal-arm | : When you call Bucky “James”—a name no one else dares to use—he reveals to a stunned Steve and Sam.

pull out? yeah right? by @slutdier | mickey henry x fem!reader | +18 | On a risky midnight balcony in Athens, you let Mickey Henry fuck you against the railing despite your nervous protests, only for him to promise he’ll pull out and then deliberately fill you with two hot loads while groaning “sorry, felt too good.”

eleven o'clock sin | lee bodecker x fem!reader | +18 | A late-night donut delivery turns into something far sweeter and filthier, than Sheriff Bodecker ever expected from the town’s purest little angel.

Stitches by @woncheolisms | You’re just a clueless new medical student. You’re not equipped to deal with charming, witty, handsome doctors. Especially not ones with pretty blue eyes that make you weak in the knees.

spilled wine by @sunmoonandeddie | You’re nothing more than a servant who happens to warm the bed of the king.  At least, that’s what you thought you were.

by @buckysdecaflove

Ficception. | +18 | Writing fanfictions sounds fun until your muse is aware of what you're writing about him.

Bucky's sweetheart. | +18 | After Bucky gets injured on a mission, your secret gets exposed.

Happy Mistake by @sunlightdances | Being assigned roommates with modern!Bucky. He's a giant and looks like he's a bully, but he's actually so shy and soft.

dust to dust by @autumnsghosts | When you come back from the blip in the graveyard having just been at your grandmother’s funeral, the cemetery seems like the safest place to be. Cleaning old gravestones had certainly never been a dream of yours, but now you find yourself there most days, scraping dirt and moss and algae from stones of people long dead and most likely long forgotten. It also doesn't hurt that a certain blue-eyed super soldier visits the cemetery weekly, placing flowers over two plots.

Too Hot, An Arm Cold by @t-lostinworlds | Cuddles from Bucky Barnes was probably one of the greatest things ever. But it was difficult to prove that point true in the middle of a heatwave while the apartment air conditioner was broken. Good thing he has a cold metal arm.

by @fckmebarnes

two bad bitches at the same damn time | +18 | stucky x reader

put on a show | +18

alabaster walls by @unificsation | +18 | avengers x reader | teamwork makes the dream home work. call america’s best to remodel your home: lay down pipes, screw your drawers, paint your walls—anything you need.

spoiled milk by @perdidosbucky-yyo | +18 | Every Tuesday morning the housewives of Waiting Willow Lane eagerly wait for the handsome milkman. Pearls around their neck, red lips and a tight apron to accentuate their waist, at 5AM ready to bat their eyelashes at Bucky, not you though, but what happens when you smell another woman's perfume on your husband's shirt?

you all along by @juniebjonesin | +18 | being best friends since childhood with rebecca barnes meant a life full of adventure with only one hard rule: don’t ever flirt with her brother. but that rule doesnt make room for an anonymous pen pal or a love that happens anyway.

Borrowed Fairy Tales by @ilovolderman | You take a last-minute princess job at Morgan Stark’s birthday party expecting easy money and screaming children. You do not expect a grumpy Beast ruining your life with soft looks.

by @venigrantrogers

making a bracelet for roommate | +18

doctor! doctor! anything-please! | +18 | Bucky hated seeing you like this, tired, anxious, always on the edge of breaking. He'd do anything to help you feel good.

delirium by @flowersforbucky | +18 | stranded in the middle of the alaskan wilderness with no means of communication after being exposed to a foreign drug, you're reluctant to accept help from the one person who has a shot at saving you.

by @dearwalker

Supersoldiers in Paris | +18 | Bucky x Reader x John | Retrieving vials from an abandoned Red Room facility gets you infected with sex pollen. You may have to make a stop in Paris with John and Bucky before you can get back home.

Would you still love me if I was a worm? | +18 | A stupid little question turns into a makeout session. Your teammates hate to see it, except for one.

by @societyfolklore

Double Take | On your first major production, all you want to do is prove you belong. One simple task;  deliver Bucky Barnes’ harness, check his notes, and get him to the rigging bay… should be easy enough….right?

Dexterity | When Bucky Barnes develops a Rubix Cube/ speedcubing obsession, you discover that watching his focused hands at work is far more distracting than it has any right to be.

by @metal-armed-muse

A TORTURE CALLED LOVE | +18 | You and Bucky have history. History of hating each other. One messy fuck in a bathroom later, you’re both scrambling to pretend it didn’t change anything. What better way to save one’s heart than by breaking the other first?

neighbour | +18 | congressman Barnes is your neighbour.

first aid | +18 | What starts as first aid gets dirty fast.

Uniform Inspection. by @w1nter-fairy | +18 | Bucky had been trying to adapt himself to modern world getting a new job at the Fire Department. He only meant to stop by before his shift, but things escalated quickly after you saw him in his uniform.

needed me by @godmadeaterribleerror | +18 | you can't stand bucky barnes. despite all your attempts to get rid of him, he's always somewhere in your orbit. you say you hate it. hate him. but you're also a very good liar.

His Name Was Never Just Bucky by @marvelstoriesepic | +18 | Falling for a mysterious man has been exhilarating, until you discover his biggest secret and realize you’ve been loving the most dangerous man in the city. But can you run from a monster in his own home when his eyes and ears are everywhere?

This is Her Favorite Song by @steelpaperboats | steve kamp x reader | +18 | It comes as a surprise to absolutely no one, yourself included, that Steve gets off on being a doctor. You know this; you have seen it time and time again through his well-established 'profession.' And given you aim to please, you pose the question, "Can I be your patient?"

In The Dead Of Night by @mickimoo1409 | stucky x reader | +18 | After spending so much time researching Steve and Bucky, they begin to visit you in your dreams, but are they really dreams at all?

wouldn't it be nice to live together? by @rh1nestcned

doesn’t trust by @sunskisser

by @imnotjustreadingg-volume-two

I just wanna feel you | +18 | I’d like something like reader and bucky wedding day where they’re both anxious and nervous and they called each other because they wanna went but then things gets heated and spicy during the phone call

Current boyfriend | You apply your cream and primer and then right when you take the concealer, the door of your studio opens. Your boyfriend Bucky Barnes enters.

dating by @shadyfestivalperfection

mission shipwatch by @ellebarnesx | The New Avengers start a full-on investigation when you and Bucky look a little too comfortable in your ''fake'' relationship.

Courage by @buckysknifecollection | After a busy month of avenging, you and Bucky finally make it to Tony’s Halloween festivities and there’s a Haunted House you just cannot miss, no matter how much of a scaredy cat you are.

gasoline by @iamthatonefangirl | +18 | despite everything in your past, despite the circumstances under which you got together and the circumstances that have dictated the majority of your relationship until now, being with James is fun.

Payment in Blood by @buckybarneslittledoll | +18 | In which your brother owes the bratva money and the pakhan decides to take you as a payment.

DRUNK NEIGHBOR by @idontexistrightnow | +18 | Bucky has had certain needs but he didn't think getting drunk would highten the need to act upon on those needs.

Love Stands Guard by @navybrat817 | During a fun and relaxing afternoon, Bucky overhears someone making fun of your body. He doesn’t take too kindly to that.

rush week by @flushedmilk | bucky barnes is the last person a cheerleader should fall for. unfortunately for you, he seems to disagree.

perfect by @smorgaswhored | +18 | imagine bucky’s got a girlfriend

pud that down! by @danysdaughter | +18 | you suggest taking a break from your deeply attached boyfriend. he reacts poorly and things somehow get worse from there.

Laundry Day by @starling-in-the-sky | On Tuesday nights, you and Bucky do laundry together.

AO3

Omega Retreat by Shamrock_Queen | +18 | As an unmarked and lonely omega you find a flyer for a service called The Omega Retreat. You are paired with a compatible alpha to spend your heat or just a week at a luxurious cabin at a forest resort. Amenities and Utilities included. Enjoy the beautiful scenery, fresh air, as well as the company of an alpha of your choosing. What could possibly go wrong?

<part14 ...

Aelin’s wave of nausea subsides when Rowan finds the spot he wants them to rest at.

“No hand-to-hand combat today,” he says when they reach a lake, before he sits on the grass with his back to a tree and gestures for her to do the same.

Not by his side against the same tree, like they sometimes do. He gestured to another one a couple of meters away from him.

Something tells her he’s avoiding her, but there’s no reason to. Maybe she stinks, but she didn’t get sweaty or dirty today. Unless he can smell blood, but even if that’s the case, three hundred years of living and being a soldier surely taught him to tolerate blood or its smell on a woman or female.

She shook off the thought. There was nothing to read into his hard swallows and refusal to look her in the eye. She’s unwell, and he’s just letting her be.

The reflection of trees and clouds gently swayed on the lake, and the gentle whisper of the wind against her forehead, sweaty from pain rather than exhaustion, was the most she could rely on nature to make her feel better.

Nature was the reason she was in this situation, for starters.

It was a trial, resisting the urge to curl up under the shade and stay there for the rest of the afternoon—especially when once again the cramping drove her body forward and made her wince.

“We can come back if you’d like,” Rowan offered.

She shook her head. He’d never extended such sympathy towards her before, she wouldn’t need it now. As this thought crossed her mind, a soothing current of the wind relaxed her body against the tree trunk, those cramps leaving her body in a wave, the way it came.

Oh, good. This was much better.

Despite the improvement of her coexistence with Rowan—cohabitation even, now that they shared a room—she hadn’t forgotten that, had this happened weeks prior, he’d be calling her a wimpy little brat. He had expectations as a mentor, and Aelin wanted to live up to them; not because of him, but because she grew to care about this training.

“Can’t you just make me better with your magic so we can train?”

“Only partially. I can’t fix what isn’t broken.”

Of course. Because Aelin isn’t ill—in fact, she’s so healthy her body is playing pranks on her once a month.

But she wouldn’t dare complain. After Endovier, she vowed to never again wish her cycles would cease.

“So, what are we doing now?” She asked despite not wanting to get up.

It took him a moment to think before he, without notice, took off his tunic.

Holy rutting Mala. Now it was her time to avert her gaze.

Rowan shirtless looked exactly like a book illustration of an ancient god, she was distrustful of its existence before she saw it in the flesh. Which explained her curiosity—an emotion that differed widely from attraction.

“Heat it slowly. Don’t burn it.” He offered his folded tunic to her. “You want to keep the temperature steady for a long time to ease the pain, but you’ll have to balance that with your exhaustion as a magic wielder.”

“So I don’t burn out?”

“You did not burn out that other time.”

Aelin sighed, now fully laying down so she could place the tunic over her lower stomach. Focusing her sight on the crooked lines where the sky met tree leaves was better than being caught counting Rowan’s abs.

“So, why are you so careful about my not burning this tunic?”

“Because it’s my tunic,” he replied in a flat tone, “and as you can see, I still use it.”

As he said it, a tiny yellow bird flew by and stopped atop a branch.

“Was it a gift?”

“From my cousin.”

Aelin pointed at the chirping bird above them. “That one?”

The look Rowan aimed at her was hard to read, but it made her giggle. It was hard to tell if he found her bird jokes annoying or amusing, as opposite as those two emotions were.

“Apparently,” he continued, “it looks bad on the family if I’m seen wearing a worn-out tunic.”

Aelin laughed at the mental image of Rowan being chastised by his family for overlooking his clothing. “Oh no, was it sheer from use or with frayed seams? Did they threaten to hang you for treason over it?”

“I told you, they like to meddle.” Now, he reserved for his family a tone similar to the one he used with her, though this one leaned closer to amusement. “Besides, I’m immortal. If a piece of clothing can’t last at least two decades of extensive use, it’s as good as disposable for me.”

Rowan took his shoes off and got up, stopping only when he dipped his toes in the water. His hands reached the top of his pants to undo them, an odd source of warmth and electricity flooded her body.

“What’re you doing?” she blurted.

He stopped short, before his pants here off. “Diving in.” He pointed at the lake behind him, then at the makeshift heater she made out of his tunic. “This is gonna take you a while, and I need to cool off.”

Aelin opened her mouth to speak, but closed it shut when she felt the wind shift. Way too abruptly, it went from hitting the back of her head to her side.

He’s directing her scent away from him.

Oh, shit. Rowan had never done this before, not that she was aware of—maybe on their first journey from Varese to Mistward and she didn’t realize it, but her hygiene was much better at the fortress.

Aelin discreetly leaned her jaw on her shoulder to smell herself, and what she smelled was just… herself. Nothing filthy or enticing about it. She didn’t stink. If it was something only Rowan could pick up on, was it really that bad?

“What?” he asked.

“What what?”

“You’re staring.”

Was it heat rushing up her cheeks? Feeling better from the cramps, Aelin put away his tunic and, still lying, leaned on her elbows.

“Maybe I’ll dip into the water too.”

“No, you won’t.”

Aelin raised her brows. Defiant, she sat to unlace her training boots. Wouldn’t a bath help with whatever smell she had? It was hard to follow his logic.

He pointed to his discarded tunic on the grass. “You’re supposed to be exercising how to regulate your fire. The training never stopped, I just adapted it to your condition.”

“My condition?”

“Exactly.”

“You mean my monthly cycle, or whatever made you avoid me all day?”

“Excuse me?” His accusatory tone didn’t make her back down.

“Rowan, I’ve killed highly skilled men while bleeding; and yet, you’ve canceled our sparring today. I doubt you give your female soldiers the same treatment, and I don’t want it for myself. I’m feeling better now—you can just tell me what it is about me that disgusts you so much you’re even shifting the wind, then we can move forward.”

“Disgust?”

“Precisely.” She lifted her chin, the nature of the conversation never waning her pride. “You have never acted like this before, so I’m curious to know what’s so repelling about me today.”

“You think I’m disgusted, Princess?”

Her words got caught in her throat when Rowan used all his Fae speed and, in a flash, nearly hovered her, his legs straddling hers in her half-lying position as their faces stood a breath away from each other. Aelin’s knees weakened, her elbows being the only thing keeping her upright.

“You got it right the first time: I was avoiding you.”

His pine-green eyes burned a path over her face, stopping at her parted lips. He licked his. The flare of his nostrils led him to the same point he bit not that long ago, and it unraveled him.

“My avoidance had nothing to do with disgust, though.”

The way he undid the top lace of her tunic—she barely felt it, but it was also all her senses could register. His thumb was lighter than a feather as he tugged one shoulder bare, as was his nose on the sensitive skin of her neck when he nuzzled it, stopping at her collarbone. Goosebumps erupted along her need to do the same to him, and her reactiveness tore a groan out of him.

“Today,” he rasped in a lewd tone, “your blood is mixed with arousal.” Rowan scraped his fangs over her collarbone. “I’m avoiding this smell for reasons that are opposite to repulsion, Princess.”

Her blood? Enticing? That sounded like some weird Fae kink. Oddly enough, she was into it.

Aelin wrapped her leg around his body. He squeezed her waist.

“Aelin,” Rowan warned, “your smell alone is driving me mad. That’s a dangerous combination for a male like me.”

Her tone was a tad too breathless as she said, “Tell me, do you always accost helplessly horny maidens during their cycles?”

His chuckle was dark. “You’ll never believe me if I tell you.”

Aelin grabbed him by the jaw, her movements rough as she brought his face from her neck and shoulders to her face. He was undoubtedly stronger, so it must mean something that he allowed her to manhandle him like this. Maybe it was part of the kink.

“Tell me,” she whispered with her mouth a breath away from his.

He got out of her grasp and kissed her.

His hunger left them no space for preambles, and the ravenous strokes of his tongue against hers took her breath away more than any training exercise could. Fingers under her tunic, the path he traced on her body was a torch to her lust.

Rowan knew what he was doing; he really gods-damned did.

“We shouldn’t”, he said when they parted, sounding as ragged as she felt.

“We really shouldn’t,” she echoed, half paying attention to his words, but mostly transfixed by the exploration of her hands on his abdomen, even with his tunic still on—time to take it off, and he seemed to agree.

He captured her lips again, bruising because it was not enough. Not close enough. Not undressed enough. Most of all, his vicious tongue was not enough of him inside of her.

After all this time in Mistward with Rowan, Aelin had never imagined it’d feel like this. Commanding, intense and rough—she’d never realized those same traits she’d known and hated about him would be so enjoyable in a different context.

“Aelin.”

She moaned, shoving her hips against his.

“Aelin.” A curse. A prayer.

With a tilt of her hips, the bulge of his pants ground on a spot of hers that sent shockwaves all the way to her most sensitive nerves. “Please.”

The loss of his body heat was quick, given his urgency to tear off her pants and undergarments at once. Neither of them seemed to mind the sound of ripping fabric.

Rowan pried her legs wide open and licked her blood and juices, ending with a flick of his tongue against her clit.

Aelin burst into flames.

Wildfire engulfed them, but he barely noticed it. In fact, it urged him on. Eating someone out like this was supposed to be a selfless act, but Rowan lapped on her as if he was the one taking advantage. The ferocity in which he kissed her sex and hugged her hips with a bruising grip drove her fire inside and out, the flames growing higher as she shouted her pleasure.

He substituted his mouth with his fingers to grunt, “On my face, now.”

She blinked, trying to listen through that haze. “What?”

“I’m telling you to sit on my face.”

Aelin complied, refusing to show her inexperience with that position. However, it didn’t take her much, because as soon as both knees were on the side of his face, he directed her hips himself, commanding her to give him her weight.

If Rowan felt half as good as she did in this position, it was easy to tell why he was so adamant about it.

“Oh, gods—Rowan!”

Without warning, his calloused palm branded the soft flesh of her ass.

Holy rutting Mala, did he just spank her?

Most importantly—was she into it? Because this one might be the best beating she’d taken from Rowan yet.

“You like it when I say your name?”

A squeeze of her bottom was all answer she needed.

“You eat me out so good, Rowan.” She moaned again. And to think that she once thought he hated it when she was loud.

She rode his face without worrying about her weight or his breathing, and the way he seized her body instructed her to continue.

The tension in Aelin’s body grew, and it was soon when she reached its peak. She went still, pleasure blurring her vision as she cried out. Her fire grew taller as she reached the climax and dimmed when she went limp, seeking support on the grass before her as she doubled over herself.

She hopped off Rowan’s face to sit by his side, and the sight took her off.

Despite his nakedness from the waist up, Aelin’s attention narrowed on how his chin glistened, soaked from her blood and wetness. He licked his lips to clean them, but it wasn’t enough to fix the mess she made.

She snorted. “A handkerchief would come in handy now.”

Rowan swiped two fingers across his chin and licked them clean.

Training is not the only context in which Rowan makes it impossible for her to regain her breath.

They should talk, shouldn’t they? She didn’t expect vows of loyalty or declarations of his undying love under the stars, but they should at least make sure this wouldn’t affect their routine.

Besides, she was about to come back to the fortress smelling like Prince Rowan and sex. Oh, gods.

Things weren’t awkward yet because a sexy fog still clouded them, but Aelin feared her next words might change it.

“That just happened, huh?”

Still looking wrecked, Rowan kneeled before her and leaned in closer. With one hand on the fastenings of his trousers, he used the other to spread her knee wide and said, “It’s about to happen a lot more.”

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Today their shifts lined up, at the start of it Aelin rushed around pretending she was too busy to talk. But at the end of it they were in the changeroom together, ending at the same time and as desperately as she tried, Aelin couldn’t escape the conversation any longer. Quite literally it turned out. 

“No, no,” Lysandra said, closing the door as Aelin tried to exit with a hurried goodbye. “You can’t run from me this time.”

“I really have to—”

Lysandra straight up scoffed. “No you don’t. You’re avoiding me and I’d like to know why.”

“I’m not,” Aelin protested. 

Lysandra just went on like she hadn’t heard Aelin at all. “I have a sneaking suspicion it has something to do with your date.”

In a final ditch effort Aelin tried the door again. All it did was open a few inches and snapped shut again.

“Spill the tea, Aelin,” Lysandra demanded. “What happened?”

Aelin groaned, knowing she should just admit aloud what had happened and stop running from it. “It was great… until it wasn’t.”

Lysandra’s eyes went wide with curiosity. “What do you mean?”

“Actually, I don’t know if great is a worthy description,” Aelin admitted. “It was just awkward for most of it. He just kept saying the wrong thing and then at the end…”

Aelin’s voice faded out as she relived the tragedy of a kiss she had endured. 

“What happened at the end?” Lysandra pressed. 

“He kissed me and it was terrible. Like kissing a dead fish.”

Her traitorous friend snorted and covered her mouth like that would hide the fact that such a noise had escaped her. “Dead fish?” Lysandra asked through laughter strained words. 

Aelin rubbed at her cheeks as she turned away from the door. “I don’t know how a man that hot could kiss so badly. Maybe all that chemistry was just in my head. I was blinded by his handsomeness.”

“And his money,” Lysandra added. 

“I’m not that shallow, Lys,” Aelin hissed back

“Have you talked to him since the date?”

Aelin was forced into confessing another sin. “I’ve kind of been avoiding answering him.”

Lysandra shook her head. “Poor guy.”

“Poor him?” Aelin said, a hand going to her chest. “What about poor me? I had to endure it and try to be polite afterwards, that took a lot out of me.”

“Let me just voice some theories here. This guy is a dad, and from the party I could see that he dads hard, so maybe he hasn’t been in non-dad mode for a while. And you would have knocked him off his feet. What were you wearing?”

“My red mermaid dress,” Aelin said a little sullenly. 

“Ha! Exactly,” Lysandra exclaimed. “This guy was fighting for his life. Cut him some slack.”

Aelin crossed her arms, thinking. From what she had seen of Rowan she knew he took his job as a dad seriously. And she had seen the way he interacted with daughter at the aquarium and the party. He was so gentle and it was obvious he utterly adored Ivy. Sure, he seemed a bit awkward but who wasn’t these days thanks to the widespread over reliance on technology. One bad kiss shouldn’t be the judge of every kiss. Maybe Aelin’s expectations had been too high, she had been too caught up in romanticising the situation. Real life wasn’t without its flaws. 

“What do you suggest then?” Aelin asked.

“I think you should give him another chance,” Lysandra said. “It would be a shame to let him be the one who got away just because you made him nervous with how smoking hot you are.”

Aelin tried not to smile, but failed. “Thank you, I can always rely on you for an ego boost.”

Lysandra moved away from her post from the door and started the process of de-mermaid-ifying herself. “In all seriousness, text him. If he fucks it up again, that’s on him and you can tell me another funny failed date story.”

“What an incentive,” Aelin said, gathering her things.

“Well, best of luck and I love you,” Lysandra professed, disappearing into the changing cubicle.

On her way out, Aelin called back, “Love you too!”

It wasn’t until Aelin got to the parking lot that she made her move. She spent her time weaving through the aquarium towards the exit to form a plan. Once she was free of the people and the fish she pulled out her phone. Glancing at the previous texts had her cringing as she started a new one. This was it, Aelin threw caution to the wind and hoped for the best.

Aelin: I’ve still got your jumper.

~~~~~

The afternoon sun was warming Rowan’s shoulders as he lent against his car and waited. He hadn’t been expecting a text from Aelin yesterday afternoon. Since their date they had exchanged a couple of texts, just post date pleasantries, but it hadn’t gone further than that. Rowan could sense there was a shift in the tension between them and that it wasn’t a good one. There was an awkwardness and he knew it was his fault. 

He’d internally been beating himself up for how godsdamned awkward he had been on the date. It had kept him up at night as he went over every little moment that now filled him with embarrassment. Who said things like and is that all you do? An absolute dick, that’s who. Rowan had been so caught up in his head that his brain decided on minimal function to make sure the most idiotic things came out of his mouth. 

Then the text came through from Aelin about his borrowed jumper. It had been used as an excuse for the first date but then completely forgotten by the end of it. Now it might play a part in Rowan’s redemption. After a lame response of ‘you do’ Aelin organised for the exchange when her shift ended. Rowan couldn’t stay long because he needed to pick up Ivy from daycare, but he wasn’t about to throw away this opportunity to see Aelin again. 

He kind of remembered what Aelin’s car looked like so he parked by one that looked similar and waited outside of his own so she could see him when she came out of the aquarium. Rowan checked his watch, making sure he wouldn’t be late for Ivy, then looked around to see if he could spot Aelin yet. A few groups of people exited, then a lone figure appeared. Aelin was dressed down in blue sweatpants and an oversized jumper, hair damp and her make-up minimal. Pushing off his car Rowan sent a wave her way, then immediately wished he didn’t. He was trying not to be awkward. 

Aelin just smiled at him, and maybe there was a little shake of her head as well. This was almost going as well as the date.

“Hey,” she said when she was close enough to be heard. 

“Hello.”

“My car is this way.” Aelin walked backwards a few steps to make sure Rowan was following before leading him to her car, which was only a few spots away. 

Rowan waited by the door of the backseat while Aelin opened the passenger door. The infamous jumper was folded neatly in her hands.

“Here you go,” she said, handing it over. 

Rowan tucked in under his arm. “Thanks.”

Then it got awkward again. Hellas drag him below, Rowan didn’t want this to happen again. “Aelin, I—”

“Listen, about—”

Aelin broke the tension of their failed conversation with a light laugh. “You go first.”

“I’m not sure I want to,” Rowan admitted. 

“You can do it, I believe in you.”

Now it was Rowan’s turn to laugh. “I just wanted to apologise for the other night. I know I was awkward, I’ve been out of the dating game for a while, and the only person I have extended conversations with is a five year old. I know I was an arse and said some stupid things, but if you’d give me another chance I can promise I can do better.”

Aelin nodded, but she didn’t say anything. Rowan could tell there was something she wasn’t verbalising.

”What is it?” Rowan asked.

“Um,” Aelin said, her pitch very high. “After that, I think I don’t want to make you feel worse.”

Make him feel worse? What else had he done?

“Please, don’t hold back,” Rowan said, bracing himself. 

Aelin folded her arm over her chest. “I kind of got the dinner part of the evening, I assumed everything that you just listed.”

“But?” Rowan pressed.

“It was the kiss,” Aelin blurted. “Like, I was fine with everything until the kiss.”

Rowan wanted the black asphalt to swallow him whole. This was much worse than he was expecting. “Was it that bad?”

Aelin nodded, lips tight. “Yeah.”

With a dark chuckle he dragged a hand over his face. He needed to fix this, and fast. 

“Can I get another chance?”

Nodding again, Aelin said, “That’s why I texted you, one mistake wasn’t enough to write you off.”

“Was it really that bad?” Rowan felt his cheeks heat.

“Yeah.”

“Fuck me,” he muttered to himself. “Can I redeem myself right now?”

That question surprised Aelin and Rowan thought she might reject him, honestly he deserved it at this point. But she didn’t, she only stood a little taller and nodded. 

“Do your worst,” Aelin taunted, and then caught herself. “But, like, in the good way this time.”

Depositing his jumper on the roof of the car Rowan didn’t have it in himself to be offended by that. Instead he gently crowded Aelin against the car, his hand running up her arm, all the way up to cup her cheek. He had to admit to himself that he overthought the fuck out of the last kiss, this time he just needed to let go. 

He lent in, gently brushing his lips across Aelin’s. That soft contact made her gasp, chasing him ever so slightly. That was a good indication, but Rowan wasn’t going to dwell on it, lest he fall into the same trap. So he gave himself over to feeling and letting Aelin be his guide. The next press of their lips was harder, needier, and had Aelin shifting closer to him. Rowan used that to his advantage, pinning her between his body and the car. In response Aelin moaned, her fists tightening in the front of his shirt. Sweeping his tongue into her mouth Rowan hoped he could get her to make that sound again. It worked, and gods it might drive him insane. 

When he finally remembered they were in a public parking lot, he drew back, and it gave him no small amount of satisfaction seeing the blissed out expression on Aelin’s face. At some point Rowan’s hands had dropped to her waist, and he kept them there to maintain his own dignity. His long lack of romantic dalliances had his dick misreading the situation, and he was not wanting to embarrass himself after his success. 

“Was that better?” Rowan asked, not bothering to hide his cocky tone. 

“Uh-huh,” Aelin replied, almost giggling. 

“So, do I get another date then?” He pressed.

“Fuck, yes,” she agreed brethlessly. 

Aelin’s words had them both laughing as Rowan stepped back. “I’ll text you, alright?”

“Please do,” Aelin said. Then she yanked his back to her by the collar, giving him another lingering kiss. “And soon.” 

Rowan nodded, stepping backwards. “I promise. See you then.”

Aelin offered her own goodbye and Rowan turned, walking to his car. He threw on his map app to make sure he had the most efficient route to Ivy’s daycare. It wasn’t until he was halfway there that he realised he’d left his jumper on the roof of Aelin’s car. At this point, maybe he’d never get back.

~~~~~

When Rowan walked into this dance studio nearly a year ago he had never expected to see his college flame ready to teach his daughter. Flame was a mild way of putting it. Aelin had come into Rowan’s life like a wildfire, merciless in the way she so easily consumed him entirely. They had been perfect for each other, compatible in the best kinds of ways. But in the end, their lives had taken them on different paths and they regrettably had to be mature adults and call their relationship to an end. That had been the most painful experience of Rowan’s life. Aelin had been the one that got away, and turned out he had been hers too. Life had taken them in such different directions and Rowan thought he’d be lucky to see her again. So when he saw her welcoming the students into the dance hall it had stopped him in his tracks, struck dumb like he had seen a ghost. Aelin had gone as pale as one, eyes darting between him and the little girl that held his hand.

Rowan had watched for a long moment as Aelin’s brain tried to piece the puzzle together, feeling too stunned to say anything himself. When the ability to speak returned the first thing he blurted out was “I’m divorced”. Aelin flushed pink but then laughed, a sound that had Rowan’s chest aching with how much he had missed that sound. Aelin had given him a wink and a quiet “thanks for letting me know” and then introduced herself to Ivy and went back to the rest of her students. After that first lesson Rowan had stayed after his ex-wife took Ivy home and the stories came out.

Once Rowan had left college in Terrasen he came back to Doranelle for work, then met Lyria not long after. They dated for a while, thought the next step was to get married and start a family. Turns out it wasn’t, they just weren’t working no matter how hard they tried. Parting on amicable terms they now coparented and made much better friends than spouses. Aelin had been on a whirlwind adventure travelling the world. She had eventually started working for her parents, but ended up feeling lost. So on a whim she booked a plane ticket for Doranelle and found a job working for the dance studio.

They hadn’t seen each other for six years and had lived such different and separate lives. But somehow within a few months they fell back into place so easily. Rowan had asked Aelin out on a date, taking it slow so they could get to know each other again, then within no time, that familiar wildfire was burning making the years scatter like ashes on the wind.

The only hiccup was Ivy, and not in an outright bad way. It wasn’t a great look for the dance teacher to be dating one of the dads and Ivy loved to dance so much they didn’t want to jeopardise that in any way. So Lyria knew, but Ivy didn’t, they would be telling her after the end of year Yulemas concert and Aelin was even considering quitting. Rowan didn’t want that, but they would work it all out in the new year.

“And one, two, and three.” Aelin's voice echoing in the dance space brought Rowan back to the present. The students spun a bit haphazardly, but Aelin didn’t scold them for their poor form, she just smiled and said, “like this.”

With the epitome of grace, Aelin spun, her golden hair swaying. Too easily Rowan could imagine his fingers entwined with those silky strands, fingers tangled as he—

Rowan stopped himself from taking that thought any further. This was not the time or place for such… imaginings. But watching Aelin’s hair sway on her exposed back, it was difficult not to.

“You’re drooling,” Lyria said from beside him, making Rowan jump. He had been watching Aelin so intently he hadn’t noticed anything else.

“Am not,” Rowan replied.

“Not literally, but figuratively? Absolutely,” Lyria teased as she stepped up into the bleachers to sit next to Rowan.

Rowan chuckled. Teasing them was one of Lyria’s favourite things to do, both he and Aelin had been hilarious victims of Lyria’s wit. “I’ll try and stop.”

That made Lyria snort. “Good luck with that. You’re smitten.”

He was. Completely and utterly.

“You’re free to go now,” Lyria said. The arrangement was that Rowan dropped Ivy off for dance and then Lyria picked her up. Usually he would leave, but tonight he was considering hanging around. With the busyness of rehearsals and preparing for the concert, he hadn’t seen Aelin much the past two weeks. And he missed her.

“Think I’ll hang around.”

Lyria didn’t say anything. She just gave Rowan a knowing look and a nudge on his knee with her’s. About 15 minutes later the class ended, and a chorus of voices sang out “thank you, Miss Aelin”. Before getting her bag, Ivy ran up to Aelin, hugging her around the hips before running away. Rowan saw Aelin’s expression soften and the affectionate gesture and the tinge of longing as she watched the girl move away. They both desperately wanted Ivy to know, and they only had to hold out a little longer.

“Da! Did you see me?” Ivy asked as she clambered up the benches to where her parents were sitting.

“Of course I did, little love,” Rowan replied. “You’re doing so well.”

Ivy beamed at him, making Rowan’s chest fill with a warm fuzzy feeling. His daughter was truly the light of his life.

“Come on, Ives, Da is busy,” Lyria said, taking Ivy’s duffle bag.

“He’s just sitting there,” Ivy pointed out.

“Not for long,” Lyria countered. “Say goodbye and he’ll see you Monday.”

Ivy launched herself into Rowan’s arms, squeezing him tight while saying goodbye. Rowan kissed her head and said his own goodbye, offering his daughter a wave back as she frantically waved at him until the last second. He turned his attention back to the dance floor, expecting to see Aelin either packing up or waiting for him, but the space was empty except for him. She must not have seen him unexpectedly staying behind. Knowing he didn’t have long before Aelin locked up, Rowan headed for her office. It was down a short hallway off the main dance space, and sure enough, he found her there leaning over to read some papers on her desk.

Rowan took a moment to admire the sight before him, the angle of Aelin’s body accentuating her long legs and dip of her waist. Her hair had fallen to the side, allowing him to admire her exposed back. Before he once again got too lost in his thoughts, he knocked on the open door, making Aelin startle.

“Rowan,” she almost gasped once she turned to see who had knocked. “What are you doing here? I was coming over later.”

Rowan strode into the room. “I missed you too much.”

Smirking up at him, Aelin said, “I tend to have that effect on people.”

Unable to wait any longer Rowan cupped Aelin’s cheeks and kissed her. Immediately Aelin melted into him, bringing her body flush with his. He couldn’t help himself, his hands roamed, feeling the warmth of Aelin’s skin through her thin leotard. When his thumbs skimmed the sides of her breasts and she whimpered into his mouth, Rowan’s tether snapped.

Nudging the chair out of the way with his foot, Rowan backed them up until Aelin’s thighs hit the desk. She didn’t need any encouragement to sit atop it, her knees widening so he could stand between them.

“I missed you, too,” Aelin murmured between kisses. “So much.”

Rowan’s response was to press their bodies closer, in a way that had Aelin moaning. His cock was hard, missing the memo that they were still in the dance studio.

“We should stop,” the rational part of Rowan’s brain voiced, even as the irrational part had him kissing Aelin harder.

It seemed rationality was becoming scarce because all Aelin did was bring him closer with her legs, grinding up the length of him. “Don’t stop. I need you.”

That request was more than enough for him. Rowan’s hands dragged down the front of Aelin’s body. It was too easy to pull down the thin leotard Aelin wore, exposing her breasts. Rowan took the weight of them in his hands, brushing his thumbs over the stiffening peaks. Aelin hissed through her teeth at the touch but when Rowan drew back to see if she was all right Aelin pulled him down by the collar of his button up.

“Just sensitive, don’t stop,” she breathed and then kissed him again.

Rowan wasn’t about to protest, and as Aelin got to work on his shirt his hands travelled down her body instead, fingers tracing the seam around her the top of her thighs. Then he slipped one finger beneath, then two, and held back his own moan when he felt the evidence of how ready she was for him.

“Fuck,” Rowan muttered, knuckles running along the seam of her stockings. “Aelin, I don’t know if I can wait.”

“I already told you not to stop.” Aelin emphasised her point by undoing his belt buckle and then the button on his pants. “So don’t.”

Before Aelin could distract him by getting her hands on him, Rowan hooked two fingers into the flimsy mesh of her stockings beneath her leotard and tugged. Hard. Just like he hoped the fabric tore and to finish the job he tucked the leotard to the side. Rowan ran his thumb through Aelin’s folds, circling her clit. Throwing her head back, she moaned as her hips rolled with the rhythm he was setting. Then she reached for his cock and pulled it out without hesitation.

“No playing, I need you now,” Aelin urged.

With a kiss Rowan pulled Aelin to the edge of the desk and then lined him up with her entrance. He pushed the tip in, he always loved the first few moments of coming together. But Aelin was obviously feeling impatient, and Rowan wasn’t doing much better, so with a steadying hand on her hip he slid in all the way.

“Oh gods,” Aelin panted, the hand in his hair tightening. “You feel so fucking good.”

Rowan rolled his hips, pressing himself that fraction deeper, Aelin’s whimper of pleasure had his cock twitching. With her teeth sunk into her bottom lip she moaned as Rowan began to thrust in and out. He wanted to pull that lip free, to let all the delicious noises Aelin made come out unhindered, but he still had enough awareness to realise they were in public. Even though he was sure they were entirely alone, he also didn’t want to risk drawing attention to their location. Later he’d have her splayed out in his bed and she could scream as loud as she wanted.

Aelin clung to him as Rowan set a steady rhythm. Wanting access to her neck, his hands slid up her back, stopping when his fingers were tangled in Aelin’s hair. He tugged, Aelin’s head falling back with that encouragement, then he was pressing open mouthed kisses up the length of her neck. Needing more, Aelin worked her hands between them, shuddering as her fingers brushed her clit.

“Good girl, giving yourself what you need,” Rowan praised.

That had Aelin trembling right before her muscles locked. “Rowan, I’m gonna—“

Her moan was low, rumbling from deep in her throat, Rowan felt it with his lips pressed to Aelin’s skin. All the pressure in her body snapped, her hips undulating as she rode his cock, drawing out the waves of her orgasm. Feeling Aelin’s body respond to the pleasure he was giving and she was taking had Rowan’s own climax breaking, thrusting hard as he spilled into her.

They shared sweet kisses once their bodies had stilled, stopping once their smiles made it impossible for their lips to touch.

“Can I take you home?” Rowan asked once they tidied up and were presentable. At least the best they could be. The hole Rowan had tore in Aelin’s stocking gaped at the very top of her thigh, with her still perched on the desk it was hard not to look at it and admire his handiwork.

Aelin noticed when his gaze had locked, a delicious shade of pink flushing her cheeks. To save the both of them from making another questionable choice, she hopped off the desk and let her skirt fall around her thighs.

With a hand on his chest Aelin rose up on her toes and pressed a kiss to Rowan’s cheek. “I couldn’t think of anything I want more.”

"Important meeting?" she'd asked, trying to cover up the sound of his shoe striking the tile floor.

He'd swung around to look at her, and his bright pine eyes had widened. "Yeah. Nine o'clock. I can't be late."

Aelin glanced at her watch. "It's seven forty-five, and there's hardly a traffic jam here. I'm sure you'll make it with plenty of time." She darted a glance at his loose tie. "But you might want to fix that before you head into such a big meeting."

"I was in a rush," he admitted, a slight flush coloring his sharp cheeks. "My daughter was...well, she needed to wear her princess dress, and that took longer than I expected, and we were almost late to school, so I've been flustered all morning." His explanation spilled out in an adorable rush, and he caught himself with a wry chuckle. "Sorry for dumping that on you. I'm Rowan."

"Nice to meet you, Rowan. I'm Aelin." She shook his hand. "And your daughter sounds precious."

He smiled. "She's a handful, but I love her more than anything."

"Rowan, hot Americano!" the barista called, breaking their little bubble of conversation.

Rowan gave Aelin a half-grin. "Got to hit the road, but I have to ask. Are you here often?"

"I'm a regular," Aelin laughed. "They hardly even ask what I'd like when I walk in."

"Good." He picked up his coffee and waved at her with his free hand. "Then I'll be back."

Over the next several weeks, they had run into each other on purpose almost every other day. Sometimes, their conversations were brief, stolen in the few minutes while they waited for their coffees before heading their separate ways. Other times, they'd lingered over coffee and (at least for Aelin) a pastry, savoring the giddy rush of the space between meeting and dating.

And then he'd invited her over. "I'd love to take you out to dinner," he'd said, rubbing the back of his neck, "but my little girl has to come first." He smiled. "But I'm told I make edible spaghetti."

"I'd love to," Aelin said with a grin. "And Rowan, it's alright if you're not ready for me to meet her. I understand."

He had been nothing but charming, a gentleman down to the polished way he dressed---suits and ties or trousers and ironed shirts, the kind of workwear that made her think of glass high-rises and conference rooms full of board members nodding along to every word that came out of his mouth. She felt like her jobs as a consultant and part-time dance teacher left her far below his league, but since the day they'd met, his eyes hadn't been anywhere but on her.

So stop dallying and go up to that door, Galathynius, she told herself. With one last fortifying breath, she got out of her car and walked up to the front door. She hadn't even knocked twice when the door swung open, revealing Rowan in a long-sleeved henley and a pair of jeans that had no right fitting his legs so well.

"Hi," he breathed. Then he cleared his throat. "Hi."

"Hi," she said, taking in the mouthwatering scent of tomatoes and basil wafting out of the kitchen. "That smells heavenly."

He chuckled as he closed the door behind her. "Like I said, my critic tells me it's the best."

"And I'm sure she's not too easily impressed," Aelin teased.

"Well, her favorite lately has been toaster waffles, and I can't beat the ones that are made with sprinkles." Rowan looked briefly over his shoulder, then slipped his arm around Aelin's waist and pulled her against him. "I've been wanting to do that for a while."

She grinned up at him. "Same here."

He showed her into the kitchen, which opened into a cozy dining room on one side and a somewhat rumpled living room on the other side. A plastic sheet was spread out on the living room floor, and from the papers scattered on one side of the sheet, Aelin thought it looked like an art station.

"Flora, honey?" Rowan called. Aelin swore her ovaries leapt at the softness in his voice. "It's time to put the paints away and wash up."

"I almost done!" a little girl's voice yelled in reply, and Aelin blinked. She could have sworn that voice was...familiar? A moment later, the plastic sheet rustled under a pair of little feet, and an adorable five-year-old with mussed light-brown curls and big green eyes pattered into the kitchen, bright splotches of color staining her hands and the worn-out shirt she wore like a smock. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Aelin standing in the kitchen next to her dad. "Daddy, you didn't tell me Miss Aelin was your girl!"

Rowan's head swiveled slowly between Aelin and his daughter. "What?!"

"Hi, Miss Aelin!" Unfazed, Flora Whitethorn waved her paint-splotched hands in excitement. "Are you gonna marry Daddy?"

"I--we---Flora---" Rowan spluttered, his face redder than the sauce simmering on the stove.

Aelin laughed and beckoned to Flora. "How about you come and wash up, and we can answer your questions while we have spaghetti?"

"Okay!" Flora skipped over to the kitchen sink, climbed up on the stool that was clearly there for her, and washed the paint off her hands. "Miss Aelin, can I show you my dance? I been practicing!"

"Of course you can." Aelin passed the little girl the towel. "How about after dinner?"

"Yeah!" Flora ran off to put her smock away, and Rowan finally recovered enough to look at Aelin with open shock on his face.

"I have to be missing something." He checked the pasta and the sauce and turned off the burners on the stove. "I know you're Aelin, and you work as a brand consultant, and I know my daughter's ballet teacher is called Miss Aelin. I never thought..." He trailed off. "Am I an idiot?"

"Not at all." Impulsively, she went up on her tiptoes and kissed his heated cheek. "I teach ballet classes at Orynth Ballet School in the evenings a few times a week, and I happen to be your daughter's teacher. I'm sorry I hadn't told you---that kind of slipped my mind. Every time we talked, I got lost in whatever we were discussing." It was true---they had somewhat skipped the "first-date" questions and gone straight to deeper topics.

"All those times I've picked Flora up, and I've never realized." Rowan laughed under his breath.

"I teach back-to-back classes when I'm in the studio," Aelin said, "so it's not like I can go out with my little ballerinas and say hello to their parents."

"I guess that makes sense." Rowan heard Flora hurrying back towards the kitchen and tossed Aelin a smile. "Ready for the interrogation?"

"I hope so." She picked up the bread basket and followed him out to the table, where she barely managed to balance keeping up with Flora's rapid-fire questions and the incredible pasta she wanted to drown in.

By the end of the evening, the only question Aelin hadn't answered was Flora's first one: "Are you gonna marry Daddy?"

Aelin had never been one to fantasize, but the thought of walking down an aisle with Rowan Whitethorn at the end of it sounded like a dream come true.

~~~

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@mis-lil-red

“Oh, hi, fiancé,” Aelin greeted him. Someone shouted their congratulations in the background. “I am knuckles deep in Major Yellowlegs’ necrotic tissue, and you’re on speaker. Say hi to my OR.” 

Fiancé. The word still astonished him. It took a running nurse along the hall to remind Rowan he also had a purpose with this call.

“Hi,” he awkwardly greeted her co-workers, unused to it. Before they got together, Aelin would ignore his calls for hours and tell him it’s forbidden to answer them in the OR. It’s been a few months since he learned it isn’t—at least not when you’re an attending surgeon. “How’s the Major’s leg?”

Her sigh came out muffled, likely because of her face mask. “Please tell me you won’t ever get a motorcycle.”

With the amount of riders she patches up? A hard pass. 

“Even if I wanted to, you ruined them for me. I have kids to raise.”

Then, remembering he wasn’t yet supposed to mention children in the plural, Rowan cursed internally. He cleared his throat and went straight to the point. “I’m at the hospital with a newbie; we came here in an ambulance and I need a ride to get my car back at the training center. Your shift ends soon, right?”

True, but a lame excuse that truly meant: I’m already here for our ultrasound appointment. Word would get out as soon with this hospital’s gossip track, but Aelin asked him to be discreet.

“Actually, when my shift ends depends on the kid. What happened?”

“That—” fucking dumbass is what Rowan held back from saying. “—trainee decided to… cook his ration by the campfire. Now he’s got some ugly burns and a bit of molten plastic all over his arms.”

Aelin cursed under her breath—or that mask, he’d never know the true cause of her muffled voice. “His bones okay?”

“I think so, yes.”

“Good. Just hang on and I’ll call you as soon as I’m done with the major.”

After hanging up the phone, losing Aelin’s voice brought back the heaviness that came when you had to accompany a terrified nineteen-year-old to the hospital. At least he had his own room now. The pale walls and sanitizer smell matched the odd silence that fell over this wing of the hospital.

However, when Rowan entered the room again, he heard giggles coming from the two nurses that were previously soaking his arm with saline. An odd choice of sound to make, given that the boy, Ress, almost split his lip open, biting it viciously so he wouldn’t cry.

“What’s the joke?” Rowan barked while entering the room.

The nurses gawked at him, gauze in hand and eyes wide, motionless. His trainee turned his face around, staring at the wall.

“Come on.” Rowan jerked his head towards the hallway outside, inviting them out. “I wanna laugh too.”

He held the door open for both women, closed it and led them out until they were at a safe distance, out of earshot.

With both hands on his hips, he stared them down. He recognized the younger pain in his ass from basic training a few years back, and the other one must be working here for longer than he became an instructor.

“Are you telling me what’s so funny or not?”

“Oh!” The older nurse smiled at him, somewhere between smug and matronly. Patronizing? “That was such a foolish way to get hurt, and being made fun of is a kind of rite of passage in the DAF, don’t you—”

“Captain.”

“What?”

“You may address me by Captain, Lieutenant.”

The woman straightened, sensing she wouldn’t talk herself out of this. The other one must remember him enough to keep quiet.

Addressing the younger nurse he recognized, he said, “You don’t get to mock any trainee, ever. You’d gloat to your classmates that Major Salvaterre wouldn’t stop staring at you because he was interested, but he told me himself it was because your push-ups were so lousy you looked like a dying fish.”

“And you,” he turned to the older one. “You’ve been here for so long I wasn’t even your instructor. Have you not learned anything about professionalism?

“You don’t get to teach him a lesson, much less bully him. My job is to turn inept kids into fine airmen. Punishing them? Also my job. Don’t. Try. To do it.”

With the tense look on the women’s faces, Rowan ground his jaw and smoothed the sharp edges of this tone, willing his voice to sound calmer. Technically, he was still right, but even if Rowan outranked them, he tried not to snap at people whose work he didn’t supervise.

“Now, next time one of my kids comes here injured, I don’t care if they did a hula dance in front of a cannonball. You will keep a straight face and respect them as you’d do a colonel. Are we understood?”

“Yes, Captain,” they said in unison.

“Good,” he said in a softer tone, relaxed his shoulders, then nodded at them. “Have a nice shift, Lieutenants.”

Inside the room, Ress was alone at once, and smart enough to not ask him what happened outside.

“Did you call your parents?”

“Nope. I can handle this.” His chin was as high as his idiocy.

Rowan pinched the bridge of his nose. Was this a failed display of bravery? This kid was dumber than he thought.

“It doesn’t look like you’re leaving this place any time soon, Kid. You need to tell your parents you won’t be home for dinner,” Rowan said while moving towards Ress’ backpack to fish the phone for him, sparing the boy’s injured hands.

“How’d you know I live with my folks?”

“You leave base covered in mud and comes back the next day with your clothes all ironed and the shiny shoes.” Rowan lifted a brow. “Is that your doing?”

For the first time since he got hurt, Ress smiled—albeit a small, closed-lipped near-imperceptible thing. And while he called his parents and answered their millions of questions, Rowan thought of Maisie and the little one on its way.

First, fatherhood made him too soft on these kids at work. Also, it wasn’t his business, but pushing them to call their parents when the injuries inevitably happen was something he’d only start doing when he understood what it was like to be a worried, waiting parent at home. 

His students were legal adults—though barely—but it took having a kid himself to realize that by the time Maisie turns fifty, he’ll be an eighty-year-old time-bomb, each of her shenanigans bringing him closer to an impending heart failure. 

“Hey, ‘Cap,” Ress called, covering the phone mic. “Are my parents allowed inside the hospital?”

Obviously, but it was a sensible question, since everything in the Air Force was restricted area. “I’ll be here until they arrive.”

Ress soon wrapped up the conversation with his parents and reassured him they’d arrive soon.

“Good. You kids try too hard to look tough.” Rowan lifted his index finger for emphasis. “A real man never leaves his mum worried if he can help it.”

Silence, followed by a long sigh. “You can say it, you know.”

“Say what?”

“That I was dumb.”

He chuckled. “Boy, I’ll give you so much hell, you’ll wish you were there instead.” The faintness of his closed-lipped smile didn’t match the kind of punishments he had in mind. Ress was smart enough to understand and keep quiet.

“You know, I have a little girl. She’s five, and—“

“Are you about to say your legal adult trainees are as sharp as your five-year-old?” Ress’ face lit up with amusement, a small curve on the corner of his lip.

Well, yes, but not anymore, now that he mocked Rowan’s moment of wisdom.

“Gods, no,” Rowan replied instead, “I’d never do that to my Maisy Daisy. She’s way smarter than you lot.”

Ress’ spine bent forward with the force of his cackle.

“It’s not a joke!” Rowan said as Ress wheezed beside him, “That kid’s a real genius! She’ll end up with a Nobel Prize or something.”

“I bet she will, ‘Cap.”

A different nurse came in, checking the monitors and injuries while writing things down.

“The ER doctor said another one would come soon.”

He nodded. “Someone from the pain management team, Captain.”

Rowan’s recently lightened mood turned sour. “What about the skin people? Are there no dermatologists or plastic surgeons here? 

“I’m afraid our dermatologist, Dr. Wiselheade, is preoccupied with her scheduled appointments at the moment, but she’ll see him in the morning.”

Her scheduled appointments. “You mean the people who did not arrive in an ambulance, because they could not only wait for days to see her, but also drive their own asses here?”

The nurse swallowed. “That is the overall public of her afternoon appointments, Sir.”

Rowan got up, and his voice came out slow and lethal. “You’re telling me the doctor is too busy popping pimples to treat a burn injury?”

The man opened and closed his mouth, unsure o what to say.

Rowan turned to leave and gestured so the man would follow him out of Ress’ room. “Come on. Show me where this doctor’s office is.”

~~

“I need to speak with Dr. Wiselheade.”

The sergeant looked at his name tape and checked the agenda once. Twice. Then she asked, “Sir, do you have an appointment?”

“I’m not a patient, I’m a visiting officer from base. I need to speak with Dr. Wiselheade.”

“I’m sorry, Sir, but you need an appointment to speak with the doctor.”

“Do I, now?”

“I’m afraid so, Captain.”

Rowan leaned over and kept his tone conspiratory. “I don’t have an appointment, that’s true, but what if I told you I have a pimple?” 

“Really?” She paused to examine his face and noticed his lack of acne. “Where is it?”

“It’s up my fucking ass, Sergeant.” He intensified eye contact to say, “Listen to me, this is not Dr. Wiselheade’s private office, nor can she make any rules. When a superior officer tells you they need to speak with her, not only do you go immediately, but you also do not—under any circumstances—ask them where their pimples are. Do you understand?”

“Yes, S-sir.”

He schooled his face back into an amiable expression and gestured at the door. “Now, would you please inform the Doctor that she has a visiting officer waiting—a mandatory meeting?”

Rowan should have counted the time, because it felt like less than a minute until the Sergeant was back and asked him to wait until the doctor’s current appointment was over.

In the meantime, he concluded that this hospital was a disgrace. Did people forget everything Rowan taught them after basic training was over? It seems like they lost all sense when it comes to conduct, uniform, every guideline they chose to abide when joining the military.

When the patient left, he was immediately asked to come in. He opened the door, ready to— 

Grabby Blonde from the supermarket?!

“Oh, hi, Captain.” She tilted her head, smirking. “There’s no need to fight my secretary, I’ll always make time for you.”

“Except she’s a sergeant assigned to manage your agenda, not your secretary, Doctor, because this isn’t your private practice.”

Rowan wasn’t too bad at remembering people. His trainees, Maisie’s classmates, the oldest employees at the convenience store—he remembered all their faces and names. However, he’d completely forgotten not only her name, but her existence altogether. 

Something about Grabby Blonde felt very… forgettable. Despite her being annoyance embodied.

“Why don’t you sit down and call me Remelle?”

“I’d rather not.” Knowing he was in treacherous territory, Rowan leaned against the wall and crossed his arms before himself. “I’m retrieving you to treat a nineteen-year-old burn victim. The sooner you come with me, the sooner you can go back to your appointments.”

She got up from the desk, movements feline as she sat on it, in front of him, and crossed her legs. “That’s not much of an incentive, is it? I’m not even part of the primary burn management to need to go in there this soon.”

She was just begging for him to be an asshole, wasn’t she? “If actually practicing medicine isn’t incentive enough, I’ll have to remind you, Lieutenant, that you do not have a choice whether to come or not.”

Wrong choice of words, Rowan realized too late.

“You sound so dirty when you order me around, Captain.” She licked her lips, arched her back and failed to draw his attention to her cleavage. “Are you always this bossy?”

Ress was scared, and alone. Rowan wasn’t supposed to leave him there for too long, and it was obvious where Dr. Wiselheade, Remelle, Grabby Blonde—whatever she liked to be called—would try to run circles around him until she used this “opportunity” to get what she wanted, so Rowan decided to cut this short.

“I’m spoken for, Lieutenant.” He sent a disgusted look towards the wedding band on her left hand. “And so are you.”

The next best argument, since his lack of interest wouldn’t deter her.

“Yes, that’s why I think we have a lot in common,” she said in a sultry tone, sliding her hand up his arm. “We both know how hard it is to fight temptation.”

Rowan didn’t. The only temptation he faced these days was trying not to jump on his fiancée in front of the kid.

He quickly retrieved his arm from her grasp. “What I’m feeling tempted to do is paying a visit to your husband, Doctor.”

“I’m sure he won’t mind if you bring your… her. Benson has very poor standards, I’m sure he’ll love to switch for an evening.”

With that, Rowan saw red.

Scratch that, he didn’t only see red. Red pumped through his veins, tightening his muscles in a way that was not healthy for a workplace, emptying his head into a fight or fight mode that his remaining scraps of reason urged him to depart.

“I am leaving this room right now, and all disciplinary measures will be applied if you don’t show up at Ress’ room in ten.”

He touched the doorknob, and she placed her hand over his to stop him. 

Do not grab and toss her wrist with your other hand. Do not show any sign of aggression.

Rowan pulled his hand from under hers, freeing it from her grasp.

“I’m not saying I won’t go, I’m just proposing an exchange of favors. I know you want to.”

Unbelievable. Doing her own job—a favor?

“Believe me, Dr. Wiselheade, I don’t. You think I’m tempted, but I don’t see anything tempting here. In fact, I wouldn’t describe your looks or personality even as pleasant—if I must be honest, I find you deeply annoying.” He crossed his arms, looking down at her in the grimmest way he could muster. “Now, I have a counteroffer for you: you leave this office right now and give my trainee the best treatment you can, and in return I won’t file a formal complaint for sexual harassment. How do you feel about that?”

Mala bless his fiancée, she’d pay good money to witness the way Remelle Wiselheade’s eyes lost its spark.

~~

“That bitch!” Aelin exclaimed, a bit too loud for the restaurant they were in. The sea of white tablecloths might give the idea that this place would be loud, but the murmurs were oddly soft for a full house. Aelin focused on his story from earlier today in a way that made her miss out on the piano music she loved so much.

Aelin convinced him to go out more than they usually did so she could wear all her fancy outfits while she could, and there was no better occasion than Baby #2’s sonogram. And when she inquired of him about his day, he decided it was best not to lie about his encounter with Dr. Wiselheade, even if it had the potential to ruin their special dinner.

“I handled it.”

“Yeah, I bet you did.” She cut her trout more forcefully than it demanded. Since when has Aelin liked fish? He stopped questioning ever since she showed him the pregnancy blood test with the most adorable White Hawks onesie. She continued, “If you didn’t, I’ll handle it just fine.” Another minor attack on the fish’s corpse. “I’ll handle her so fine that fake boob of hers will be flying off her mouth,” his lovely fiancée said.

“Aelin.”

“What? You think I can’t start a fistfight just because I’m pregnant?”

“Not the sole reason, but yes. You summed it up well.”

Aelin’s shoulders dropped, and she focused back on her meal. The crumpled look on her face was the exact reason he didn’t want to tell her about this. However, it was one thing to dismiss phone numbers he was given or random people on the social media profiles he scarcely used, but this was her co-worker—and a recurring annoyance rather than a fleeting one. Rowan didn’t want to bother his pregnant fiancée with it, but something told him he should make her aware of it.

“But, hey.” He caressed her wrist with his thumb, an attempt to cheer up his Fireheart. “We just made it out of the first trimester. Don’t you think that’s exciting?”

With that, she smiled. In sync, both of them looked at the representation of this dinner's special guest—today’s picture of Baby #2, leaning against a wineglass in front of a vacant seat. If this one ended up being as well-behaved as Maisie, this might be their only time at a place like this in the next decade.

He squeezed her hand. “How do you want to tell people?”

She was the one to suggest they should wait before telling people, and Mala knows how many times Rowan almost broke that promise despite himself. Big mouth aside, after all the chaos and drama surrounding Maisie’s birth—no matter how rewarding—Rowan decided he wanted Aelin to be in charge of decisions like this.

His parents figured out about Maisie’s pregnancy by themselves while Rowan was incarcerated? So this time she’ll get to pick when, where, and how they get to know. As long as she was happy and still wanted to marry him, Rowan would happily follow his fiancée’s lead.

When Rowan asked if she minded the mental load, she quickly brushed him off. Aelin also wanted Aelin to be in charge of all decisions.

“I want to tell Maisie first.” Her voice was firm, as if she’d thought this over before, so Rowan decided not to argue.

“And then our work is done, right? You know she’ll tell everyone and their mothers before we have the chance to.”

Aelin giggled, her laugh lighting the dimly lit room they were in. “Less work for us, and a much cuter reveal.”

“Okay, then.” He kissed her knuckles, chest molten. Rowan was so ecstatic about her and this baby, he couldn’t think of a single request he wouldn’t fulfill for her right now. “Shall we go before she falls asleep at Sellene’s?”

“What?” She removed her hand from his grasp. “What about dessert?”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Weren’t you complaining that the dish was big enough to feed a woman pregnant with quintuplets?”

Her exact words, if he remembered correctly.

Aelin placed a hand over her stomach, affronted. “Well, yes, but dessert is a different compartment entirely.”

“Like a secret pocket for treats?”

“Exactly.”

“And you’re telling me that because you went to med school, and I didn’t?”

“Precisely.” She looked away, trying to catch a waiter. “The dessert compartment is real and very scientific. Please, know your place.”

Rowan didn’t need to be told twice. He looked down and chuckled while the server came over, then happily watched his fiancée’s excitement over her key lime pie—to celebrate the baby’s current size.

A while later, while they waited for the valet to bring back his car, Rowan took Aelin in, and the effort she’d put into their night out despite having a long day at work. As much as he loved taking her out as a farewell to her nice clothes, this was coming to an end soon.

He wasn’t sure she’d realized it, but Aelin was showing already, and her belly was bigger this pregnancy. He loved it. Right now, the deep blue satin of her dress draped between her lower belly and her hips—a new effort to hug her growing stomach—and it was easy to tell it wasn’t exclusively due to the insurmountable amount of food Aelin tackled; that it was mostly because of his baby. 

Once she realized he was staring, she slid her hands over her sides and let out an awkward chuckle. “I was fighting for my life to get into this thing earlier. Didn’t calculate how much worse it’d get after dinner.”

He pulled her to his front and hugged her from behind, kissed her on the cheek, and murmured, “You look stunning.”

Aelin didn’t argue, settled instead into his embrace and soon their car arrived. 

The city lights became a blur now that traffic had died down after rush hour, and they decided to call and check if Maisie was still awake.

“Hey, Sellene. How are you three? Are the girls behaving?”

His cousin chuckled. “Surprisingly so, yes. You’ll learn why in a minute.”

The red light allowed Rowan and Aelin to exchange a look. A quiet Maisie was her most dangerous version—it meant she was onto something. When the little girl took her aunt’s phone to speak with them, she didn’t spare a single pleasantry before letting them learn why.

“Can Bree and I have a sleepover today? Pleeeease pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease?”

Breanna soon joined her on the ‘please’ chorus.

It was Rowan who said, “I’m not sure, Mais.”

His chest tightened with the request, the reminder of the bedtime story he’d picked to read her tonight on the back of his mind. How silly was he being right now? Not so long ago, Rowan used to spend two or three days at a time without physically seeing Maisie, but the thought of it was now unfathomable.

“Can I speak to Sellene again?” he said without changing routes.

“Uncle Ro, please!” Bree shouted while the phone was passed over.

Aelin snorted, eyes widened in a can-you-believe-them look.

“Are you on speaker?” Rowan asked when he was sure it was Sellene on the other end.

“Not anymore.”

Good. “How do you feel about this? I don’t mind being the bad guy if you want to postpone the sleepover.” 

He switched lanes to enter the street that led to Sellene’s neighborhood, not buying the sleepover idea yet.

She chuckled. “It’s fine, really. It’s been moderately chaotic so far, and we’re all having fun. You two should take the night off and have a few drinks or—oh!—go celebrate your engagement! I’ve got them.”

His cousin had no idea how off-limits alcohol was. 

“I don’t know, I—“

As he trailed, Aelin sneaked her hand over his seat and cupped his cock.

Rowan almost hit the brakes.

“Are you sure?”

The question slipped his lips without conscious approval, and it was hard to focus on the traffic instead of Aelin’s come-hither look.

“Of course!”

“I think—I…”

Rowan was cut off by Aelin’s squeeze on his cock, followed by the harsh strokes of her hand, wiring his body despite the clothing he still wore.

“We’ll pick her up in the morning, then.”

He made a turn and sped his way home, the path to Sellene’s forgotten. Aelin’s hand didn’t leave its spot until they arrived.

Rowan almost fucked his fiancée in the garage.

And she didn’t help his efforts to carry her to the bedroom, teasing his neck and increasing friction by pushing their hips together.

In the hallway, he pressed her against the wall and nipped her jaw. “You want to make it to the bed or not?”

Her teasing smirk was enough to tell him that he didn’t need to hear an answer from him—she’d run circles around him, an usual occurrence.

He kissed her. If he used it as a way to avoid her snarky retorts or teased her purposefully to achieve this result, he’d never tell.

Aelin’s softness as she opened up and allowed him to take charge nearly broke him. Rowan’s tongue met hers with possessive sureness, taking what was meant for him. The soft and pliant sounds Aelin filled the hallway with drowned him, making his cock’s ache much harder to bear.

Their bed was much needed, now more than ever.

When he finally arrived there—delayed by Aelin’s toying with his neck—he reverently placed his fiancée atop the bedsheets, pressing their foreheads together and breathing each other’s air. Aelin smiled and flung him into bed with her.

“How do you want me?” Her breathlessness reduced her voice to a whisper.

Rowan threaded his fingers with her hair at the base of her skull and pulled, baring her neck to him.

“Just the ring on,” he growled before kissing her neck, insatiable as he sucked its skin into his mouth.

“Good.” Aelin shuddered under his attention. “I refuse to take it off.”

What they did take off, quite clumsily, was the outfits for the fancy restaurant of Aelin’s choosing, and both of them fumbled to undress each other in a way that never happened with her—his—t-shirts or his sweatpants.

When all that dreadful clothing was dealt with, he climbed on top of Aelin and directed himself to her breasts. He cupped the side of one and trailed pecks from the valley between them to her inner boob, but stopped himself.

“Are they sensitive?”

“Good sensitive,” Aelin rasped as she took hold of the roots of his hair and directed Rowan’s ministrations herself.

Not knowing when would be the next time they’d be good enough to eat, he dived into her tits like a starving man. The gentle biting on the outside soon turned into him sucking her nipple into his mouth and flicking his tongue against it, which drew out a loud moan from her.

The first of many. Rowan was intent on making the most out of their empty house.

He could’ve spent the entire night lost between her breasts, but his Fireheart pulled him by the hair for a sloppy, wet kiss.

Rowan hadn’t bothered with the lights, but the moonlit interior of his house allowed him to take in Aelin’s ethereal features. Not only her lovely, regal face, but also those mouth-watering tits, the peaks glistening from his kisses. It was something that often rendered him speechless, how enthralling were her beauty and personality both. It seemed unfair to other people—not only that someone such as his fiancée existed, but also that Rowan got to have her all to himself.

He’d never dare change a single thing about it.

With both hands pinned by him above her head, she squirmed under his grasp, and the diamond on her finger glinted with the movement. 

He was about to marry her, wasn’t he? The reminder left him speechless every time.

The downwards trail of kisses he started was soon interrupted by Aelin. She cupped his jaw, tugged his face closer, and hooked her leg around his hips to lock it over hers.

“I need you. Now.”

When he dipped the pads of his fingers on her sex, Rowan’s dark chuckle was engulfed by Aelin’s moan.

“I didn’t think you’d be this wet for me by now, honey.”

“I—“ She arched her hips once he pressed against her clit. “You’ve been teasing me since you put that shirt on.”

His dress shirt? He needed to save this information for later.

“And now you need my cock, and this is all my fault?”

“Precisely.” A pause. “Please,” she added when he didn’t move.

A dark chuckle. “So polite.”

Rowan aligned himself between her thighs and slowly pushed in, her warmth maddening with a tight grip on him.

Her breath hitched, a breathless plea between parted lips.

His muscles tightened at the languid pace, but Aelin pushed against his thrusts, asking for more.

The increase in rhythm turned his thrusts deep yet not frenetic, but that seemed to satisfy Aelin, by the way she cried out and maimed his back with her nails. Her enthusiastic response turned his blood into lava, and his pleasure built in the base of his spine.

She stopped him and, with one deft motion, switched their positions.

He was doomed.

If Rowan had very little control as it was, he was completely at her mercy with her tits bouncing on his face and a clear view of her body and where they joined.

Aelin rode him ravenously, thighs working hard so she could pound her hips to properly bury him inside her. Tension coiled inside him as his pleasure built to an impossible degree under her merciless pace, so Rowan decided that if he must go, he should do it with dignity.

He leaned on an elbow and snapped his hips up, earning a booming string of curses from Aelin, his name falling from her lips in the foulest way. Digging her fingers into his chest, she clenched his cock with her inner walls before collapsing on top of Rowan. Once his Fireheart was sated, he allowed himself to climax, and watched the heat in her eyes as his cum filled her.

After being Aelin-starved for so long, he got drunk on the sensation of claiming, or even branding her.

Mine.

She excused herself to clean up, and watching his load drip down her thighs sent a wave of heat down his body, readying him for the next round.

He'd also never take it for granted, her trust in him. Rowan himself had never been so unbridled in bed with anyone else, but it was Aelin, so that one life-changing consequence just added to the appeal.

Aelin darted from the bathroom and laid her head on his chest, letting out a small groan of appreciation as she relaxed into him. “It’s been forever since we last had sex.”

Because she hadn’t been feeling good with all the pregnancy symptoms, but he refused to point it out and risk her feeling bad about it. “We had sex earlier this week.”

“Forever.” Her whine and pout were so adorable, Rowan couldn’t help but kiss her frown. “Aren’t you worried about our sex life with this pregnancy?”

No. Rowan narrowed his eyes at her. He went from occasional mediocre encounters with women he couldn’t care less about, to mind-blowing chemistry with the love of his life. His sex life was peaking big time.

“Honey, is something bothering you?”

Aelin sat with her back on the headboard. It was that kind of conversation, then. Rowan mirrored her and waited.

“I mean, I’m so freaking excited for this baby, but our frequency went downhill because I’ve been tired. And then I’ll be all sensitive and achy and swollen, and don’t get me started about after.” 

“What about after?”

She gave him a pointed look.

“You mean another baby?” They could wait before the third one, or even stop at the second if it was what she wanted.

“Are you really gonna make me spell it out?”

Rowan’s mouth opened, but no words came out as he stayed confused. There was only one other option, but she couldn’t possibly mean—

“My postpartum body, Rowan.”

Oh, please. He looked at her dead in the eye and said, “Hot. Go on.”

Aelin’s shoulders dropped, and she gave him a pleading look, as if he was joking.

He was not.

“After Maisie, I spent years trying to get back in shape, and I didn’t. I just reached a point in which I decided that my body as hot as I was willing to work for, and there was that. And I’m not even mentioning the parts that won’t ever go away, like my stretch marks.

“Part of sex is feeling desirable, and I’m afraid that’ll be just…” A sigh. “Hard.”

As his fiancée listed her worries, Rowan had to force his mind into a self pep-talk that went along the lines of: Listen to her. Be patient. Do not be insensitive or invalidate her concerns. And do not, under any circumstances, tell fiancée her concerns are gibberish.

But truth was, no straight man would ever think about stretch marks with his face pressed against a pair of tits.

Also, Rowan wasn’t a doctor, but he was pretty sure women can’t help cellulite—if it bothered him, he’d be sucking cock by now.

He cradled her face between his palms and said, “Aelin, you’ve consistently been breathtakingly gorgeous in every version I’ve known of you.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded. Stroke her cheek with his thumb. “You did have a god-like body before Maisie, but that’s impossible to maintain with the amount of responsibilities you have.”

“You think so?”

“Of course, between Maisie and your work hours—“

“No! Not this. You really think I was so hot I looked like a god?”

Praising her old body was definitely not his point, but whatever makes her feel better.

“I still do. But I’m not talking about personal taste, I’m talking about unrealistic—“

She pressed their foreheads together. “I get it. You’re the perfect fiancée who doesn’t mind a belly pouch. Just answer me.”

He closed his eyes and chuckled. “I did go to extreme lengths to get you naked back then, so yeah.” He briefly kissed her lips. “You went from an unrealistically sculpted body to merely having an insanely hot body. Big deal. I’m still winning, babe.”

They collapsed onto the bed, a tangle of laughter and kisses—though, really, he was the one kissing her silly, until she couldn’t remember why she’d been upset in the first place. 

She licked her swollen lips, looking up as he hovered over her. “You really mean all that? I don’t want you to say things to humor the pregnant lady.”

Without changing positions, his expression was earnest as he said, “You talk about this like I’ll be stuck with you and your mom bod.” His expression melted, giving way to a mushy smile as he tucked a strand of golden hair behind her ear. “Honey, I chose you. I’ve waited my entire life for you.”

But Rowan was tired of speaking. He’d much rather make his point by kissing down her body, starting with her neck and torso.

“I like to feed you,” he said before kissing the freckles over her hipbone. The path down her legs was slow and torturous, stopping only at her ankle. “I like that after I feed you, you let me fuck you rough and raw until you’re full with my babies.” Something else he also liked was the eager look in his Fireheart’s eyes. After making his way up her inner thighs, he kissed a spot on her lower belly. “And I love each and every mark that proves it.”

When he mouthed her sex, Rowan was too lost in her to focus on words anymore.

~~

Aelin and Maisie seemed to be deep in conversation, Rowan noticed from the counter, and he hoped his fiancée wouldn’t breach the subject without him there. He wasn’t far from them, but the loud chatter from Stone Villa’s Creamery made it impossible to hear a single thing from their table, just see his daughter engaged in an excited conversation with her mother, who had her back to him.

It was Saturday morning, which meant Maisie was currently missing soccer class. They decided to never mention they completely forgot about it before agreeing to the sleepover.

The clerk cleared his throat, snapping Rowan’s attention back to him. “One strawberry with bubblegum, one…” A well-deserved pause and frown. “Basil and lime with M&M’s, and a black coffee with no milk?”

He nodded. Ice cream at morning wasn’t done in his house, so Maisie better enjoy the opportunities that came with her mother’s pregnancy and odd cravings.

When he approached the table with everyone’s order, the tiny yapper was in the middle of yapping about her sleepover at Sellene’s, where they’d just picked her up from. 

“…Bree has a big, big poster in the kitchen with all the letters and numbers, so we were laying on the floor and creating a secret code for when we have our own phones.”

“Oh, yeah? What did you come up with?”

“It’s a secret, Mom!”

“You’re right, honey, I’m sorry.” The quickest of twitches in Aelin’s lips told him all about how much she was struggling to take her daughter seriously at the moment.

Rowan cut in, “And how was school yesterday?”

“We learned letters and numbers.” A sigh too weary for a five-year-old. “Again.”

“Is that so?” The hardest part about parenthood might be keeping a straight face. “Are you implying that you don’t need school anymore?”

“Yes! We’re not even learning new things, we just mash all the letters and numbers we already know to make bigger words and bigger numbers.”

“Sorry, Mais. You have to study letters and numbers for 12 more years, and then pick the one you like the most to study for at least four more.”

The little girl narrowed her eyes at him, unsure whether she should take this news seriously or not. “Except Mama, because she chose bones.”

“Also a good option.”

"About bones…” Aelin cleared her throat. “The endochondral ossification is already in progress within the fetal skeleton, and your father and I decided that the transition from cartilage into mineralized bone would be a good point to tell you the news.”

‘Your father and I’ implied that Rowan participated in the decision-making process, but not a word passed his lips as he broke the news.

Maisie frowned. “That’s too many words.”

Understandable.

“Your mom was telling you about our new family member.”

“Fleetfoot’s becoming a sister?”

“No, honey, you are.”

“What.”

“Your mom is pregnant. With a human baby. You’ll be a big sister soon.”

Maisie’s jaw dropped. Her wide green eyes darted between her parents, waiting for a punchline, perhaps, but the news were very real. Slowly, she mouthed a spoonful of her ice cream.

“We’re having a baby,” the little girl murmured.

In Maisie’s head, the baby must be as hers as Aelin’s and Rowan’s. He made a mental note to check with her what she meant by ‘we’, but if her ‘mothering’ of Fleetfoot was any indication, he had nothing to worry about her taking more responsibility than necessary.

Still, the news seemed to shock her. 

Aelin squeezed his hand under the table. “How are you feeling about this?” she asked Maisie.

“Noah—not from school, the other Noah from soccer—has a baby brother. He says they’re really dumb. Maybe his is dumber because it’s a boy, but later they all get smart enough to play.” She took another spoonful of ice cream, deep in thought. “At least I won’t need other moms to let me play because their kids are doing other things. Same mom, same rules, same time to play.”

Aelin grinned. “You’ll get a new playmate, yes.”

“And I’ll teach her all the cool things the teachers at school don’t know like drums and how to whistle.”

Rowan kept his tone challenging when he teased, “Do you know how to whistle?” 

Maisie’s big green eyes narrowed—the little girl loathed being questioned. “Not yet, but I’ll figure it out. And next time I need you to tell me about the baby before.”

“What do you mean?”

“I want to know when you call the stork, not when the baby’s already in your belly. I need time to get ready.”

Rowan refrained from pinching the bridge of his nose. This phrase had so many layers, so much to analyze and discuss later, it almost have him a migraine. Instead, he said, “But are you happy with this news? It’s okay if you’re not; we just need to know.”

Maisie didn’t reply instantly, and Rowan liked that she looked for an answer within herself instead of immediately saying whatever would please her parents the most. Then, her pursed lips slid into a wide gap-toothed grin.

“I’m having a sister!”

Aelin opened her arms and waited for her squealing daughter to round the table and sit on her lap to hug her. Rowan was halfway melted by the sight when it came to him…

Wait a second.

“Maisie, you meant having a sibling, right?”

“Samesies!”

No. Nonono— “That is very much not the same. A sibling means it could be a girl or a boy. Which is what you’re getting: a sister or a brother.”

“What?” She left her mother’s lap, sending her a betrayed look. “You didn’t tell the stork we want a girl?”

“No, honey,” Aelin said, as patient as she could be. “We wouldn’t do that, even if we could. The stork always sends the baby we need, not the baby we want, okay?”

“Fine,” Maisie huffed and returned to her chair. “At least we’ll get a pink and blue party.”

A pink and blue… Rowan’s brows went up. “You mean a gender reveal party?”

“The pink and blue party! Like the one Auntie Elide and Uncle Lorcan had to find out they were having another…” Her nose wrinkled in distaste. “…boy.”

“Honey, I don’t think that’s your father’s or my thing. We didn’t throw one when I was pregnant with you—never felt like we missed out.”

“Mom, Dad, you don’t understand.” Maisie returned her spoon to the cone to brace both hands on the table, looking as serious as a five-year-old girl could. 

“We need a pink and blue party.”

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September 2025 Prompts

1. Deities 

2. Accidental Humiliation

3. Meet Ugly 

4. Amnesia

5. Single Parent AU 

6. Blind Date Mix Up

7. Allergic Emergency 

8. Sports Romance AU

9. Letters

10. Masquerade

11. Firsts

12. Singles on a Couples Trip

13. Cowboy Like Me 

14. Workplace AU

15. C: Flipped POV

16. C: Pampering (After a hard day’s work/before an event)

17. C: Domestic Moments

18. C: Family Time

19. C: Rowaelin from an Outside POV (ex. a Rowaelin interaction Lysandra’s pov)

20. C: After Happily Ever After

21. C: What if…?

22. Wrong Number

23. Heartbreak

24. Neighbors

25. Reverse Trope (ex. Too many beds, nice to everyone but you, divorce of convenience)

26. Fussing

27. Getting Fired

28. Second Chance

29. Bonded