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mariaofdoranelle · 2 days

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Look at Us Now - ch. 25

Fic masterlist

Omfg it was about time!!

I used a prompt Diana sent me forever ago about mom&daughter matching outfits but I’ll never find it again to attach the link. Thanks @autumnbabylon! <3

Also, things got a liiittle freaky in the last scene. Is it because I re-outlined URDAD while writing this? We’ll never know!

Warnings: NSFW, golden lingerie

Words: 3,1k

To Maisie’s dismay, she was stuck with her father’s poor braiding skills until she could do better herself. Ever since Rowan found out that he could get himself and Maisie ready in the time Aelin did only her hair and makeup, getting ready to go out became a lot less chaotic.

Simpler, but not simple.

His daughter was almost ready to be dropped off at Aedion’s to go to the movies with him, Lys and her son Timmy, while Rowan and Aelin went to a small party at Dorian’s and Fen’s.

He thought he was prepared for the evening, but one sentence, five words were enough for Maisie to shake his entire world.

“I want the fishtail one,” the little girl said in her bedroom, after he asked her what she wanted to do with her hair.

“Not the one with the ribbons?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Of course,” Rowan said, trying not to show his defeat.

Shit. He had just learned how to do the double french braid with ribbons.

But that what was YouTube was for, anyway. His learning process wasn’t so slow after years of this, but Rowan still praised Maisie for staying still every now and then—he’d never forget the ordeal that was learning how to do her hair from scratch, all alone with an overactive toddler. He had it easy these days.

Aelin burst through the door when he was adding his finishing touches, and her eyes lit up when she saw the little girl’s outfit.

Maisie jumped from the chair and said, “Mommy, we’re twins!”

Rowan may or may not have peeked into Aelin’s closet while she was getting dressed to coordinate her outfit with Maisie’s. Now they were both wearing jean pants and jacket with a white shirt, and it looked adorable. He was even considering taking a picture for when Aelin mocked him for not having a “sense of style”.

Aelin’s eyes widened. “Maisy Daisy! Is your dad trying a new hairstyle on you?”

“Yep!” The little girl turned around to show off her dad’s work.

She swallowed, then plastered on the fakest smile he’d ever seen. “I love to see that, honey! Can I just fix…” Aelin put her thumb and index finger close together to indicate a small amount. “One little thing before we go?”

When Maisie sat back, her mother undid Rowan’s entire work and redid it in the blink of an eye. Flawlessly. And with a jellyfish hair clip.

He blinked, stunned while his daughter picked a toy to take out with her.

Aelin wrapped both arms around his middle and kissed his cheek. “This one’s all about tension,” she whispered in his ear. “I’ll show you later.”

Her breath against his flesh and the double meaning behind her words sent a shiver down his spine, but it was quickly stifled by his daughter’s next words.

“Come on!” she shouted. “Uncle Aedy is waiting!”

Rowan froze. That name triggered a rush of memories, dragging him back to a time and place he wished he could forget. It came back in flashes, his last visit to the sex shop. His unwanted encounter with the man he wanted to call a brother, while Rowan held a purple clit sucker in his hand.

The fact that they found out about each other’s new girlfriends between then and now didn’t make it any better.

“Buzzard, you coming?” Aelin’s voice brought him back, and for a moment he wondered if she saw something haunted in his eyes.

“Do we really have to go see Aedion?”

“You wanna drop Maisie off like she’s an Amazon package?”

“We could.”

Aelin crossed her arms, eyes squinted and scrutinizing him. “Why are you avoiding Aedion tonight?’

Rowan mirrored her position, trying to mimic his girlfriend’s bravado. “What makes you think I’m avoiding Aedion in the first place?”

Truth is, he absolutely was. But admitting it meant explaining the reason why, and there was only so much a man could take.

˜˜

“Munchkin didn’t wanna come?” Was the first thing Fenrys asked, crestfallen when he first saw them at the entrance of his modern apartment downtown. If their friends hadn’t been at the front door to guide them inside, the incense smell and the mixed sound of chatter and little paws on the floor would.

Today’s party was more like a small gathering, so Maisie and Fleetfoot had been invited—Dorian and Fenrys stopped asking Rowan and Aelin for their ragers a long time ago, but it was still nice to make sure exactly how kid-friendly the evening will be.

For a moment, Rowan felt bad for them. Maybe it was because they chose not to have kids, but they really did uphold that vow to become the cool, doting uncles.

And Maisie absolutely adored them back. Until Aedion blurted out that Dorian used to date her mother years back—now the kid got all weird whenever someone mentions his name.

But she’ll get over it. If Rowan did, Maisie will too.

Aelin’s eyes darted between her two friends, a truly apologetic look on her face. “She’s at the movies.” A sigh. “She still hasn’t processed all that… history. Between Dorian and I. But she’ll come around.”

“She will.” Dorian nodded with a mournful look and a curling corner of his lip that betrayed his somberness. “They always get like this when I fuck their moms.”

Rowan tensed, his teeth gritted, but before he could give the man a piece of his mind, Aelin slapped the back of her ex’s head. Still, her scolding expression twitched with suppressed laughter.

She pointed a finger at him. “Do. Not.”

The man took a step back with two hands up in apology and surrender, and gestured for them to wait there.

The living room was large enough to defy the concept of an ‘apartment’, but that and the expensive furniture were the only clues of Dorian’s generational wealth. The place had a bunch of shelves and it still was a huge mess of books scattered everywhere, likely because the man didn’t let anyone help organize them.

The one time he asked about it, Dorian said it ‘fits the aesthetic’. Rowan asked if it was his architect’s first intention to go for an ‘untidy look’. Aelin carefully redirected the subject and it was never brought up again.

Out of thin air, Dorian came back with one drink in each hand.

“Sangrias,” he said before handing them to Aelin and Rowan.

By her eager eyes on the drink, Rowan knew he wouldn’t be drinking much of it today.

Aelin tilted her head, a question in her eyes only he could read. He nodded and squeezed her waist, wordlessly knowing what she wanted.

He’d be glad to be tonight’s driver if it meant his Fireheart was having fun.

Aelin’s first sip was eager; however, her face soon contorted into disgust, her grimace turned into a cough, and soon something in that drink had her gagging. Rowan ran a soothing hand on her back, confused at this reaction.

After a few deep breaths, she turned to Dorian and said, “Did you slide some rotten fruit into this?”

The man gasped. “I find this question highly insulting, Aelin Galathynius.”

Rowan took the drink from Aelin’s hand and smelled it, at the same time Fenrys took Rowan’s untouched drink. Both men sipped it, then gave each other confused glances.

Aelin gaped. “You like it?” she screeched.

He shrugged. It was a little too sweet for his taste, but good sangria still. Dorian and Fenrys were great bartenders.

She waved him off. “You can have it.”

Aelin and Dorian excused themselves to talk with two people from their residency days, so Rowan sat on an armchair by a tall, arched lamp and his friend brought an empty chair so he could sit by his side. Which meant he was alone with Fenrys and his big mouth.

He perched on the edge of his chair with both forearms on his thighs and his trademark smirk. “Now that Maisie won’t come here anymore, I think it’s time for you to make Munchkin No. 2.”

Rowan remained silent. He refused to believe he agreed with one of Fenrys’ jokes.

His friend continued, “And you need to make an honest woman out of Aelin.”

Rowan’s brows went up. “Are you making an honest man out of Dorian anytime soon?”

“And you need to make me a godfather this time…” Fenrys added, completely disregarding what Rowan last said. His friend kept going on the subject, and he zoned out a little, having his own related thoughts.

The ‘marriage and more kids’ subject had been brought up constantly when they finally told everyone about their relationship—nothing Rowan wasn’t thinking about himself.

He had things figured out and was ready to do it, the only problem was finding the right timing.

On one hand, he didn’t want to get ahead of himself, rush it and risk fucking up again. He and Aelin had been dating for a little over three months, not the usual time to wait until the proposal—then again, they weren’t an usual couple.

He caught her eye from across the room, gold and turquoise glinting with excitement that soon turned back to the group she was talking to.

On the other hand, a four-letter word plagued his thoughts all day, every day. When Aelin wore his t-shirt after sex in the morning, when he saw the button of her nose on his daughter’s face, when he held her to sleep, drunk in the smell of her hair.

Day and night, Rowan ached to call her his wife.

˜˜

“Buzzard,” Aelin called at his suite, from outside the bathroom. “Why did I find a gift box with my name on it in your closet?”

“You weren’t supposed to find it!” Rowan shouted, quickly wrapping a towel around his waist.

They’d just gotten home after the party at Dorian’s and Fen’s, and were their way to bed. The gift she’d just found was from the sex shop he visited a while ago, but Aelin had been so tired from work lately, he was struggling to find the right opportunity to give it to her.

When Rowan finally got out of the bathroom, the sight of Aelin holding the golden lingerie set he hadn’t given to her yet made his heart hammer inside his chest.

“Menace,” he teased.

She stared at the set with her mouth ajar. “When were you giving it to me?”

Leaned against the doorframe, he cocked his head. “Why were you snooping in my closet?”

“Afraid I might find something, Buzzard?”

Very.

Rowan squinted his eyes at her. “I thought you were ‘so sleepy’ you could ‘die from it’. Your words exactly.”

“Well, Buzzard, I’ve just changed our plans,” she said on her way to the bathroom. Right after closing herself in, Aelin opened a crack in the door to face him and ask, “Is it clean?”

He chuckled. “I washed everything so we could use it right away.”

“Perfect.” Her smile was so bright it lit him up.

She had been suggestive enough that Rowan hung his towel without bothering to put his clothes on, and it gave him time to think.

First, he needed to keep an eye on Aelin’s curiosity regarding his closet.

Second—there was no second. He was just dying to see Aelin in gold again.

“You okay there, Ae?”

“Eager much?” she asked on her way out of the bedroom. Aelin squared her shoulders and did a little twirl, cocky as ever, but then adjusted a strap. “It feels a little weird on the breasts, but it fits.”

“Pity,” Rowan said, unable to keep his eyes off her. “I think my hands need to get more acquainted with them.”

His movements were languid as he slid his hands from her hips to the sides of her chest, trembling with desire. His Fireheart looked like a living flame and, fucking hell, he couldn’t believe his luck to be the one that got to touch her.

Rowan felt the warmth and softness of her skin, her shiver as his ravenous eyes devoured the curve of her hips to the slope of her breasts. It was dizzying, the creamy of her skin, the brown of her freckles, dusty rose round tissue poorly hidden, taut with the need to be touched.

All wrapped in thin straps and golden lace.

Rowan’s loins grew near feverish with just the sight of her, and so far the way he touched her only worsened the ache in his fingers.

“Buzzard?” Aelin’s eyes were filled with something he’d recently realized that stood between mirth and desire. “Are you gonna stare at me all night?”

He chuckled, a pained sound, and hid his face on the side of her neck. “I could, you know.”

Before she got the chance to tease him further, Rowan brushed his lips against her pulse point. Standing in the middle of his room with both hands on her hips, he intensified his ministrations on her neck until Aelin’s teasing disappeared, leaving him with small whimpers and the goosebumps she left with those nails on the roots of his hair.

She pulled his mouth to hers, fingers now busy tracing his abs and pecs. His muscles were mostly a welcome consequence of his job and lifestyle, but it did make him feel smug when Aelin openly delighted in it the way she did.

Rowan grabbed her waist tighter and pinned their waists together, his naked length pressed against her stomach while he flicked his tongue against hers. She held his neck and let out a breathy moan, chasing the friction as much as he did.

That is, until Aelin took a step back and turned around. He stopped her by the foot of the bed, one hand splayed across her lower belly, the other covering her breast.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Rowan asked before he tilted her head to the side and sucked the skin of her neck into his mouth.

Her breath hitched, then she let out a breathless chuckle. “Going to our bed?”

Our. Not quite, but he liked the sound of that.

Rowan sneaked one hand in between her folds and cursed. “You’re so wet, baby.” A peck on her shoulder. “Is that for me?”

“Um—“ He pinched a nipple, and the back of Aelin’s head fell against his shoulder. “I did take a good look in the mirror before too.”

So fucking sassy.

In one quick thrust, Rowan slid all the way in, spreading her cunt open to fill it whole at once. Aelin cried out, and her body jerked forward a little—would’ve been a lot if he hadn’t held her so closely.

“Shit, I—“ Rowan could barely think, his thoughts clouded with lust. “Too rough?”

“Too good. Lemme just…” Aelin kneeled on the edge of the bed, making herself taller so Rowan could and fuck her from behind better.

And that he did.

Standing still with her kneeling on bed before him, her back to his chest, Rowan ruthlessly snapped his hips against hers. Aelin gave it as good as she got, back arched as she met his thrusts and pushed against them—there wasn’t much she could do in this position, but he liked having her at his mercy like this.

With tension bursting under his skin, Rowan brought one hand to Aelin’s neck, slightly choking her. He felt her tremble under his touch, and the shaky way she moaned his name in return was enough to make his skin burn.

The other hand went back to her pussy, muscle memory eased his finger’s path to her clit. The friction made her gasp, then Aelin ground her hips against his hand and cock both. The way she writhed on his arms was telling enough, so Rowan held himself back to keep her preferred pace constant. Soon enough she screamed his name and collapsed on his arms. Rowan pulled out, but watching Aelin orgasm so prettily for him it didn’t ease his ache in the slightest.

He placed a gentle kiss on her shoulder. “You alright, honey?”

“Perfect.” She had a dazed smile on. “Did you—“

Rowan snapped his cock back inside her because no, he did not. And he wouldn’t until she did again.

Aelin whimpered, then continued to roll her hips against his as he picked the pace once again. She took his cock until Rowan decided otherwise, like the good girl she was.

The only problem being that Rowan didn’t exactly choose when his cock would give out, and he was already too excited from Aelin’s first round. He did have his tongue and fingers in case the worst happened, but…

He pulled out took a step back—which didn’t go unnoticed by Aelin, given her frown—to grab the clit sucker.

Rowan aligned himself with her but didn’t thrust, earning him a whine from her.

“Greedy much, love?” He grabbed a fistful of her hair with one hand, while he figured out the vibrator with the other.

Before Aelin could complain further, he turned it on and put it on her clit at the same time he pounded into her again. Aelin screamed, her hips moved in a lost, frenzied pace as she tried to grab whichever parts of him she could with her back to him.

“Do you want to…” Rowan managed while panting, “The speed.”

“I—“

A thrust, or the spot it hit, made her moan and clench around him, which brought the messy string of curses uttered by Rowan. Well, she’d change the speed if she wanted to.

Aelin covered his hand with hers to change the vibrator’s speed, chasing her second climax. And Rowan—fucking hell, he wasn’t lasting much longer. His muscles felt as tight as they could be, surrounded by fire, and in this pre-orgasm state, if Rowan had the spare mental energy to pray and ask to last any longer, he would.

Aelin went still, calling out his name with a shattered breath. He waited until she completely fell apart to turn the vibrator off, and a few thrusts later Rowan shattered with her. With a blurred vision, he emptied himself around her walls, which still spasmed and contracted around his cock.

A brief kiss with a tug on the strap of her golden bra. “Take this off for me and lay down on the bed, will ya?” Rowan asked from behind, his hands still holding onto her body. “I’m not done with you yet.”

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mariaofdoranelle · 2 months

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Look at Us Now - ch. 24

Fic masterlist

I’m so happy to get this one out!! I’ve been thinking about this chapter for an insane amount of time. Enjoy!

Warnings: sex shop stuff

Words: 3,3k

Of all the times Rowan listened to his dumbass coworkers out of curiosity, he never thought he’d follow through with any of their advice. Yet, there he was, in the rope section of Doranelle City’s newest sex shop.

At first, he couldn’t believe that an old small-ish supermarket closed, and in its place someone opened a giant adult shop. Then, Rowan couldn’t believe he came here to check what the fuss was all about. He had more than enough confidence to stand tall while checking the most bizarre aisles, but he wasn’t used to picking and choosing vibrators the same way he did his groceries.

Still, regret was the furthest thing from his mind when he saw the lingerie section.

There, hanging between lots of blacks and reds, a scrap of golden fabric caught Rowan’s attention. After hurrying there with his basket, he took a good look at it. The tag said ‘three-piece embroidered lace garter lingerie set’, but he was struggling to understand where each part went. All he saw was so many straps around the sheer lace that was the actual lingerie, and gold. Not yellow—real, metallic gold.

This. He just found the perfect, most selfish apology for those ripped panties.

Getting the bra sizing right was a struggle, though. Rowan squinted at his hand, muscle memory mimicking how it grabbed Aelin’s breast, and tested the different sizes on his palm.

It was almost time to go, so he made his way to the clit vibrator section. Aelin’s only one was attached to a penetrative stimulator, and while it was great, it didn’t quite fit this specific idea he had in mind.

However, right before entering his aisle of choice, Rowan spotted an awfully familiar blonde head.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Retreat.

He stood where Aedion couldn’t see him and checked the time. A little more and he’d be late, which wasn’t an option. Rowan was going to pick Maisie up at school alone because Aelin wanted to take a nap after work—he couldn’t afford to wait until Aedion left.

In a bold move, Rowan entered the aisle, standing on its end while the other man was in the middle. He wouldn’t be able to see everything, but hopefully enough to pick what he needed.

Still, he kept an eye on Aedion, briefly glancing at him every now and then while looking at all kinds of clit suction vibrators.

In one of those times, Aedion was already looking at him. Shit.

For once, he was glad that the families didn’t know about his relationship yet. Aedion had no idea that he was here with ravishing Aelin in mind, and the last thing Rowan wanted to know was the purpose of the other man’s… purchases.

Turquoise eyes met pine-green, but he still looked around to see if the Aedion was looking at someone behind him. Nothing. They were alone in this aisle, staring at each other for what felt like ages.

Rowan took a step forward. “Hey,” he said in a stiff greeting.

“Hey.” Aedion’s greeting was almost a wince. “You…”

“Just buying some stuff.” Rowan’s neck felt on fire with embarrassment as he played nonchalant. He hid the chosen purple clit sucker deep inside his basket, as if the man beside him hadn’t seen it already. “For myself.”

“Same.” Aedion’s unusual lack of words was a relief.

Rowan eyed the vibrator and anal beads inside the man’s own basket. Well, good for him.

˜˜

“YOU’RE SORRY!” Maisie shouted on the garage floor, trashing in her father’s arms.

“I’m not, love, you can’t play drums while your mother’s asleep.”

The little girl screamed louder, tears streaming down her already puffy face. After a lot of improvised, unpolished drumming sessions, Rowan and Aelin enrolled her in weekly lessons. While they encouraged the little girl to keep practicing, her learning process was hard on their eardrums.

It broke Rowan’s heart to see Maisie like this, but work has been running Aelin ragged lately; he couldn’t allow their daughter to play when her mother was finally letting herself rest.

Still, the little girl threw herself on the floor, then threw a drumstick at her father. The wooden mallet hit him in the chest, and though it didn’t hurt at all, its weight wore down his thinning patience.

Who. The fuck. Gave. This child. Drums.

He drew a deep breath to calm himself, but it didn’t stop his Dad Voice, as Aelin would call it. “Maisie Whitethorn,” he chided, “if you throw another one of these… forking sticks at me, you won’t see them again for a helluva long time, you hear me?”

Defiant as the day she was born, Maisie held her head high despite the teary eyes, squared her shoulders, picked the same drumstick off the floor and threw at Rowan again.

That’s when the unwavering patience he reserved for his daughter snapped.

Blood boiling, he threw her over his shoulder—her five-year-old body was lighter than a potato sack anyway—and left her in the garage, ready to put her in time-out for eternity. Maisie trashed, likely hurting his back as she did it, but it was hard to pay attention to it over the pounding on his ears, caused by anger and her shouting both.

“What’s going on?”

Aelin’s voice coming from the living room stopped him short. Rowan took in his girlfriend’s messy hair and slightly puffy face from her nap on the couch; his heart sank with the realization that she woke up anyway, and it was his fault.

“I told her to stop the drums so you could sleep, then she threw the drumsticks at me and is about to get grounded for eternity.”

Aelin gestured for him to pass Maisie over at the same time the little girl wiggled out of his grip, even with her head on Rowan’s back, away from her mom; it sometimes stunned him, how in sync these two were.

She sat with their still crying daughter on her lap. “Maisie, we don’t hit the people who feed us.”

“Or anyone,” Rowan added, eyes hard.

He was a firm believer that, sometimes, violence happened to be the last and only resource to resolve things. It wasn’t a good lesson to teach a little kid, though, especially when she could think that a minor conflict at the playground required extreme solutions.

Aelin wiped out Maisie’s tear-streaked cheeks and combed her hair out of her face with her fingers, showing a gentleness she rarely showed for people outside her family. “Do you understand why we’re upset with you, honey?”

“Daddy said I’d be in trouble if I threw another stick!” The girl’s high-pitched voice cracking and raspy as she tried to defend herself. “I didn’t! I threw the same one!”

Rowan’s mouth fell open as he felt disoriented with his daughter’s Aelin-like defense. If she was like this at five years old… he didn’t want to think about what would happen in ten to twelve years.

“Maisy Daisy,” Aelin warned in a calm yet alarming tone. “You know you shouldn’t have thrown that stick at all.”

“We can’t find loopholes for hitting people,” Rowan added, still stunned, and looked at Aelin. “She’s still getting grounded. Maisie’s not playing anything if she acts like she was raised in the wilderness ”

“But I didn’t throw another stick!”

Aelin winced, and from her looks she seemed to say she has a point, Buzzard. A sigh. “What about cutting drumming time in half this week?”

Maisie gaped, outraged.

Rowan tilted his head, pretending to think this through. Reducing something instead of cutting it off usually worked best in his family, but he still threatened with the worst option for impact. When suspended something completely, if Maisie didn’t convince her father to suspend the punishment at all—which completely weakened his authority in the long term—she’d have several more meltdowns they couldn’t avoid because she was still learning to regulate her emotions.

“Sounds reasonable,” Rowan finally said.

However, Maisie shook her head. “I don’t like that.”

Aelin snorted. “You’re not supposed to like your punishment, honey.”

They settled in the living room when Maisie cooled down, her and Fleetfoot playing in the mat as quiet Rowan could expect a kid and a puppy to be.

He and Aelin stayed on the couch, her soft body resting half above him, in a drowsy state.

“It’s almost dinnertime,” he said. “We could order pizza.”

Aelin’s only response was a grimace, but Maisie’s loud cheer made her agree to it.

Rowan would be lying if he said it didn’t bother him. For days now, her sleeping and eating patterns were off, and it could only mean one thing: a depressive episode.

He knew it, because he studied it. He had every sign engraved in the back of his mind, alert for when she needed him again, to not let her down again. Ready to be there and support her in any way he could, Rowan just didn’t think she would be the one to evade him.

He thought they were better at communicating, better than this, but each time Aelin shut him off and said she was feeling emotionally good, just a little tired even if all signs pointed otherwise, his heart sank with doubt.

“Hey, Buzzard.” Aelin ran a thumb over the crease between his brows, where a frown must’ve formed at some point during his musings. “What got your feathers all ruffled?”

Well, since she asked, he might as well tell her. “I—“ Rowan’s eyes zeroed on Maisie. This wasn’t something to discuss in front of a little kid. “Mais, it’s almost time to go to your mother’s. Can you go pack your bag?”

“No,” the little girl said, plain and simple as if his request wasn’t a polite order.

Aelin sat back, leaving their cuddling position with both brows up. “Excuse me?”

“I’ll go pack my toys to go to my other house, then Dad’ll go with us, and we’ll do the same things we were doing before, but in another house. Every. Time.” Maisie’s brows remained drawn together, her little arms crossed. “I’m so tired from packing my toys that much.”

Rowan and Aelin both froze, staring at their daughter after this bomb she just dropped. To be fair, Maisie was completely right. They kept the same custody arrangement as before, but one parent would follow the other to be together, so the three of them were basically going from one house to another.

He could point out that packing a bag of toys wasn’t nearly as much work as the packing her parents did, but Rowan didn’t want to argue with his daughter because he agreed with her. They were so worried about maintaining a steady routine for Maisie, they weren’t expecting her to point out that this arrangement made no fucking sense anymore.

And most of all, Rowan really wanted to take a bunch of next steps with Aelin.

“We’ll take this into consideration,” Aelin said, reluctant. “For now, you’ll still have to pack your toys.”

Maisie got up and complied, but not without grunting a few complaints, Fleetfoot hot on her heels.

The second their daughter closed her bedroom door, Aelin jumped on Rowan, trapping him with both arms on the couch.

“She’s right, you know?”

Rowan snorted. “You’re taking advice from a child now?”

Looking oddly invigorated by how Maisie brought up the subject, Aelin was undeterred. “Let’s move in together.”

Yes. Rowan opened his mouth to reply, but closed it again. “I thought you wanted to take things slow.”

The three-month mark she requested to tell people about their relationship was so close he could taste it, but no matter how much Rowan wanted to test her boundaries, he couldn’t. She was the one to request them, which made him question this sudden change of heart.

An adorable blush creeped up her neck and cheeks. “Because that’s the responsible thing to do. Don’t you hate being responsible sometimes?”

Rowan chuckled, amused, because not being responsible was never an option for him, the only exception being when it came to Aelin. Still, they weren’t two twenty-somethings moving in together on a whim to share rent. They had logistics to discuss, Maisie to think about, and their on-base housing that would be incredibly hard to regain if either of them gave up on it.

He kissed the bony tip of her nose. “We can talk things over until we’re ready, yeah?”

And by that, Rowan meant that he just wanted to wait long enough to be sure she wasn’t crossing her own boundary in an impulse decision she’d regret later. He was so fucking ready to move in with her for real and stop ironing his uniform at 5:30 a.m. because it got rumpled in his bag.

Aelin nodded, eyes intent on him. “Sure. That’s where we’re headed, right? Moving in together, I mean.”

“Fuck, yes, we are,” he said while giving her a crushing hug.

With a silly grin, Aelin cupped his face and kissed him. It was sweet and shallow, since they were smiling too much to deepen it, but Rowan loved it. Every kiss with her, every time, it blew his mind.

However, they were brutally interrupted by a high-pitched scream, painfully loud in a way only horror movies could muster—and Maisie, apparently.

The little girl stood rooted where the hallway met the living room, panicked green eyes widened with the sight of her parents making out.

“Why— WHY’DYOUKISSDAD!?”

Aelin slowly detangled herself from him, and Rowan’s mind was going a mile a minute. Of all the parenting preparation he did, no one ever taught how to explain to your child that you’re dating their mother.

“I was kissing your father because we’re in a relationship now.” Aelin’s voice was gentle, but it left no room for argument.

Rowan added, “We were planning to tell you soon.”

Maisie was still frozen in place, and he felt like beating himself for letting his daughter find out about his relationship this way.

“Honey, I—“ Rowan scratched the back of his neck, feeling his face heat. One might think they were two teenagers getting caught by their parents, but it was actually two thirty-somethings explaining themselves to a five-year-old. “Your mother and I, we’ve been very close lately. Sharing a bed. Are you actually surprised that we’re dating?”

Maisie narrowed her eyes on her father. “I share my bed with Fleetfoot. That doesn’t mean anything.”

“You’re right,” Rowan agreed, determined not to taint her innocent way of thinking. “But we’ve also been spending all our free time together. You see us cuddling plenty and—“

“I thought we were cuddling all the time because we’re a family and we love each other, not because you’re boyfriend and girlfriend! Ew!”

Aelin leaned closer to her on the couch. “Maisie, love, can you tell us how you’re feeling?”

The little girl eyed her mother’s phone on the coffee table, grabbed it and ran away, locking herself in the bathroom as quickly as she could.

Rowan pinched the bridge of his nose. He was so throughly fucked.

The day Maisie learned how to call her grandmother, he knew he’d never know peace again.

He sighed. “I think she—“

“She absolutely is.”

Rowan met her gaze, slightly panicked, and stared at her grin with no small amount of confusion. Something about him made her burst, so she held onto his arm, shaking and losing her breath with laughter.

“That’s not funny!” He looked between his girlfriend and the bathroom door that hid his distraught daughter, not knowing what to do.

“Come on.” Aelin leaned on him, her outburst subdued. “It is a little.”

Rowan relaxed back on the couch, letting himself think about what happened in a different light, and the corners of his mouth quirked up. “The way she never suspected anything…”

“Ugh!” Aelin hugged him tight. “I want her to stay this little forever.”

“She did grow up too fast,” Rowan said in a pensive tone, and it made him think about how much he wanted to watch other tiny people grow up with Aelin. One thing at a time, though. “She’s likely telling my mother everything before the three-month mark, and—“

“Your mom will tell everyone she knows.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“It’s okay. I mean, we were close to the mark already, but…” Aelin closed her eyes and breathed deep, a small smile on her lips as she finished. “I feel great. It’s not how I wanted to do it, but I feel like it was about time.”

“Okay.” Rowan kissed her cheek. “I’m okay with it if you’re okay with it.”

Aelin caressed his face with her thumb. “I’m very okay with it.”

Her face was a breath away from his when his phone rang.

Mom

Aelin mouthed good luck at the same time he took the call.

“Rowan Whitethorn, you are in so much trouble.”

“Is that so?” he asked, unbothered by his mother’s dramatic antics.

“I cannot believe I have to learn from Maisie that you’re dating again!”

“I couldn’t hide it forever, it’s not my fault Maisie ruined the reveal we—“

“Every night, I prayed to Mala for you and Aelin to get together—for years, Rowan. Years! And when it finally happens, you can’t even bother to let me know…”

He tuned his mother off when his daughter left the bathroom, looking calmer, and sat facing her mother.

“Maisie’s here. I’ll have to hang up.”

“I’m not finished—“

He hung up.

Sitting back beside Aelin, he asked, “Do you feel like talking now, Mais?”

The little girl crossed her arms. “Are you married?”

Rowan’s eyes bulged out. “No—“ He sneaked a quick glance at Aelin. “I mean, not yet. Why’d you ask?”

His daughter hummed. “So you have a kid and you’re together, but you’re not married?”

“Yes.”

“This is weird,” Maisie mused, sitting on an armchair before them. “You tell me that people choose boys or girls to have kids, puppies or kittens with, until death or divorce; but you mixed it up and you’re doing it all confusing.”

Rowan winced. “I’m painfully aware of that.”

Aelin cleared her throat, focused on Maisie. “My relationship status with your dad might’ve changed, but nothing about you ever will. You will always come first, and we’ll always love you very much, no matter what. This doesn’t change anything for you.”

“Anything?” Maisie asked, perking up.

Aelin slowly nodded. “Anything.”

“Do I still get two Yulemas gifts?”

Cackling, Aelin squeezed her daughter in a hug. “I don’t know,” she said in a playful tone. “Rowan, does she still get two Yulemas gifts?”

“Huh.” Rowan tilted his head, pretending to think hard while a warm feeling spread through his chest. “I don’t know, I guess she’ll have to wait and find out.”

Aelin winked—she knew that being an only child and only granddaughter on both sides, Maisie was spoiled rotten by her family on Yulemas. “Any other requests?”

“No kissing!”

Aelin gasped. “No kissing?” she asked in a dramatic, almost theatrical way for her daughter’s amusement.

Maisie shook her head. “Nuh-uh!”

The mother pouted. “Then how am I going to do this…”

Next thing they knew, Aelin was pecking quick kisses all over the little girl’s face, earning those high-pitched squeals he adored so much. Rowan watched that scene, grinning and with a familiar tingling in his chest, when his phone rang again.

His mother, of course.

He showed Aelin the screen. “I should take this before she books a flight.”

“Sure.” She bit her lip, looking unsure. “She sounded angry before.”

“Actually, this is her best-case scenario for my love life. She’s just upset that I didn't tell her sooner.” Rowan kissed her cheek. “I’ll be right back,” he said before leaving to answer this phone call that could take anything between 20 minutes and 2 hours.