Love How One Of Fenrys' Dialogues In Eclemation Is "mothers Tits, Rowan," Like???

Love how one of fenrys' dialogues in eclemation is "mothers tits, Rowan," like???

"Don't do that-don't touch me like that"

The Booty-Call Dare - part 4

Fic masterlist

Happy Rowaelin Month y’all! I was starting at day 6, but had the idea to add this yesterday yayyy

Prompt: Idiots in love; a huge thank you to @rowaelinscourt for organizing the event <3

Warnings: NSFW

Words: 2k

Under the doctor’s office lightning, Aelin bargained with foreign gods she’d heard of as a child, for Mala Fire-Bringer had forgotten about her most faithful child.

Her body was lava—pumped by a burnt-out heart, it erupted in violent waves, uneven through her body. Still, now she sped through the empty street, even the car seat felt like too much—she squirmed against it, and now it was not enough.

It was true that no one understood true desperation until it happened to them.

Or maybe Aelin was just that horny.

On her side, Rowan didn’t look half as conflicted as she was. Likely because he just got cleared for as many light activities as he tolerated by Dr. Towers—as long as he avoided strenuous activities and heavy lifting, his ribs should heal just fine.

There was one strenuous activity Aelin had been aching to do for the past three weeks, but she would go as easy on him—his ribs, more specifically.

Inside his apartment, Rowan put his exams on the coffee table and sat on the couch, his whole body sagging into it with comfort. Aelin was halfway into sitting by his side when she went for his lap instead, straddling him so they could be face-to-face. His hands found her hips like a magnet.

“Hi,” Rowan whispered, bumping his nose into hers.

“Hi,” she near purred, wrapping her arms around his neck with a provocative grin—which was quickly shut down when Rowan caught her lips with his.

Their kiss started agonizingly chaste, but he soon surrendered to her hot-blooded approach. Aelin leaned into him, tugging at the roots of his hair, biting his lip. Warm, swollen, wet. Her entire world narrowed down to his hands on her ass, her grinding against his erection.

Aelin was so into it she felt her pulse through her pussy.

After three weeks of making out like teenagers, she knew surrender when she saw it—how he tugged her into the couch with him, his emboldening touch.

Shit, she could ride him just like this. He wouldn’t even have to do much.

Aelin broke them apart and took her shirt off, but Rowan covered her fingers with his as she unclasped her bra.

“Are you sure about this?”

“My tits need you, baby.” Aelin tried to sound commanding, but it came off like a plea. For the first time, she slowly uncovered her chest for him, sliding one strap at a time off her shoulders and then the lace, at the same time she said, “You know only your tongue does what I need.”

Rowan gaped at her tits as if they’d cast a spell on him. “Fuck,” he said—a curse and a prophecy if she had her way.

He didn’t waste any time on her breasts, his tongue on one nipple while he toyed with the other between his knuckles.

Aelin whimpered, adjusted herself on his lap so he wouldn’t have to bend to reach her boobs with his mouth, then got lost into it. His rough play on her hardened peaks made her want to do things so strenuous to him, his doctor would be horrified—then he soothed her with his flat tongue, and its pressure felt like an out-of-body experience, leaving her lightheaded.

Aelin took his mouth into hers again for a crushing kiss, then put their foreheads together, breath heavy as she unzipped his jeans.

She’d offered before, but Rowan wouldn’t take a blowjob until he could give her something back. He thought she wanted to do it for his sake only, but Rowan was the rare kind of guy with a big cock aura so strong, it just made her want to suck him off into oblivion.

However, when she opened his jeans to the bottom of the zipper, he stopped her short.

Rowan pushed her—gently, but far enough she couldn’t feel his erection underneath her anymore.

“Aren’t you hungry?”

“Very,” she said, eyes on his lips.

“Great.” Rowan stood up. “Fancy a sandwich? Some soup? Takeout?”

Aelin frowned. Had she not been clear enough? However, she did feel a bit hungry, so maybe it was best to eat first. “A sandwich sounds good.”

He abruptly left for the kitchen, leaving Aelin topless and alone in the living room. Weird. She didn’t rack her brains for it, though, just fished a t-shirt from Rowan’s clean laundry basket, not in the mood for her tight-fitting shirt anymore, and met him in the kitchen.

Rowan seemed to be doing what Aelin called his classic ‘slap n’ chop’, where he slapped every content of his fridge on the cutting and chopped it all together. He didn’t acknowledge her arrival—instead, Rowan chopped and frowned at the tomato as if it’d offended him.

He was clearly in a bad mood, mind somewhere else, Aelin got it. She grabbed another cutting board and the cheese, then chopped it in little cubes by his side. Aelin might not be the best chef, but she did know how to use a knife.

“Thanks.” Rowan gave her a quick, close-lipped smile. The way he softened when his attention was back at her, it seemed like he was mad at himself rather than it being about something she’d done, which didn’t exactly make things better, but at least Aelin wasn’t left wondering what she’d done wrong. Maybe Rowan was still frustrated about his ribs? That made them two, since she felt the same about some bodily functions of hers too.

Rowan wasn’t in the mood, now was not the time to bring up sex, but Aelin wanted their bargain done with, and she wanted it urgently—not because she didn’t enjoy his company, but because she enjoyed it too much.

The weight of the booty-call hang between them each day, and it was torture—spending her days this close to him and unspoken promises of what was bound to happen plaguing her thoughts at night.

Another train of thought also distressed her, one that lingered just as much as the sexual ones, though she tried and failed to shrug it off every day. This permanent state of waiting shifted the nature of their relationship, and Aelin has been seeing Rowan in a new light since then.

Which was foolish of her. She knew how Rowan operated, he was never shy with girls. If he wanted something more with Aelin, he would’ve said so.

Still, she wanted him—romantically, permanently, un-booty-call-y.

Each day, Aelin fell further, and she worried about falling down deep into a hole she wouldn’t bear to bring herself out of.

Which was a troublesome addition to how horny she felt.

She handed him the contents of her cutting board so he could mix it all with some condiments. Rowan still looked tense, shoulders rigid, unreadable glances at her that lingered for a little too long.

“Aelin?” Rowan called after he put everything in the oven for a little.

She hummed as she wrapped his waist around her arms, chin on his chest.

He stiffened under her touch. Opened his mouth, then met her eye and closed it again.

“What’s got your feathers ruffled, huh, Buzzard?” Aelin muttered as she slid her fingers down the side his left cheek.

He grabbed one wrist and then the other, gently yanking them away from her face. Her throat closed up even before he said, “Don’t do that. Don’t—touch me like that.”

The world yawned open around her, cold and still. “I’m sorry.” Aelin took a step back as if he’d burned her—in a way, he did. “You mean just now or…?”

“I don’t think I can do the…” He swallowed. “Booty-call thing. Not anymore.”

“I see.” Aelin clasped her own arms, almost in a self-hug, though it wouldn’t help her chest from straining. She had a quip half-ready about how he could’ve softened the blow, but held back because he couldn’t. “Very well, then”

“Don’t be like that.” Rowan stared a hole into her, and had the gall to look pained as he did.

“You know what, you’re right. Why act upset if I just got rejected after being led on for three weeks?”

Rowan’s mouth gaped, shock overtaking his features. “I led you on?”

Actually, Aelin led herself on. No, scratch that—Aelin’s Mind warned Aelin’s Heart about it, but Aelin’s Heart led itself on. She was too stubborn to take the words back, though.

“Are you telling me you didn’t?”

Rowan raked a hand through his hair. Groaned. Rubbed both palms against his face. “Could you recollect the terms of the agreement you proposed to me?”

“We fuck!” Aelin burst out, fueled by frustration. He’d already rejected her, why was his point now? “I called you asking for a fuck, and then we fuck. It was a booty-call, not a fucking treaty.”

“One night.” Rowan looked away, jaw clenched, and it took a moment for him to get the guts to look back at her face. “I get two broken ribs and one night. It’s not enough—not anymore.”

Her heart stopped short. Will. Not. Hope. Aelin allowed herself lots of things these past three weeks, but hope was too dangerous. She crossed her arms. “What do you mean?

“For starters, I can’t even do half the things I’ve—“ Rowan cut himself off, pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath.

“If I can only have you for one night, I think it’ll hurt less if I get none at all,” he said with gut-stabbing earnestness.

In any other occasion, Aelin would just jump at it or be stubborn about the rejection and leave; instead, she hang on to every word he said, wishing she could replay it like a movie, or pause it to study the milimeters between his brows and get an inkling further into what he was feeling now.

Instead, she stood motionless in his kitchen—too frozen by his words, her breathing too shallow to fuel her brain in the way her racing thoughts needed. Messy. When Aelin needed her brain the most, it melted into a useless puddle on the pit of her skull.

“But, you know,” Rowan said, crestfallen. He pointed at himself. “This is why people have rules about these things, so—“

“So you wanna renew our agreement to a non-casual relationship with non-casual feelings?”

He blinked, rooted to his spot. Rowan’s expression looked near transparent now, and it was easy to see there’d just been a glitch inside his mind.

He took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders, forcing himself to appear more relaxed. “Is that what you want?”

“It’d be nice.” she tried not to sound too eager, in case it went downhill.

“I think so too.”

“So.” She took a step closer. “Are you upgrading me to ‘situationship’, or—“

“God, please, no!” Rowan crushed her into a hug, and it was muscle memory that melted her body into his embrace. “It’s either ‘girlfriend’ or the door, Aelin Galathynius. I think even ‘booty-call’ is better than this situationship bullshit.”

She chuckled, burrowing her nose on the crook of his neck. And to think she nearly lost him because… she wasn’t sure why, actually. Idiocy, maybe.

“You can call me anything you want in the new agreement,” she said. “I just want the prospects of contractual renewals and upgrade agreements, that’s all.”

He held her face with both hands. “You’re mine, then. Is that part of the deal?”

Aelin laughed—brightly, but not half as lit up as she felt inside. She nodded in agreement and locked their lips together.

A/N: NSFW + BURNT SANDWICH SOON GUYS (that’s literally the entire plot of part 5)

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I got u girl

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ִֶָ cata

⋆·˚ ༘ jegulus socmed au where james potter, lead vocalist and songwriter of the marauders, gets drunk at his birthday party and exposes his

Please I beg can someone help me figure out what fic I was reading.

Basically I was reading it on tumblr, it was a jegulus exes au where Marauders were a band, and Dorcas, Evan, Pandora, Barty, and Regulus were a band named the emeralds. James and Regulus had dated but his label made him break up with James, years later James posts on twitter about still loving Regulus while drunk, drama ensues. There was a song specifically written for it either named “Red and Gold” or “Red and Golden”, I’m not sure which

OH MY GOD THIS IS SO GOOD AND THE PLOT TWIST??????

Look at Us Now - ch. 27

Fic masterlist

Guys it’s 3 a.m. I’m posting my 1st draft and hoping for the best love y’all

Warnings: NSFW, Remelle and other bombs

Words: 3,7k

Aelin could kill Rowan right now, as he placed featherlight kisses on her shoulder.

“Go away,” she grumbled while burrowing herself further under the covers.

“Baby…” Rowan kissed her neck now, tugging her body into the hard lines of his. “You were the one who—“

“Don’t.” With graceless movements, she turned to be face-to-face with him. “You’re being a jerk right now, you know that?”

He chuckled, amusement crinkling his eyes. “I’m a jerk for doing as I’m told?”

“Alexa, what time is it?”

“It’s 4:48 a.m.,” Alexa replied.

Aelin readjusted the covers so the only thing visible was her glare.

Yes, it was technically her idea, but how dare he follow up with her plan. Sometimes 24 hours a day is not enough to raise a five-year-old, take care of yourself, work, and romance your partner—hence why last night, when Aelin was so tired her eyes felt glued together, she told Rowan to wake her up earlier to have sex.

Yes, they’ve struggled to find time for each other the last couple of weeks, but that does not excuse Rowan for agreeing to wake Aelin up before 5 a.m. He should know better.

She squeezed her eyes shut, his arms an okay weight around her—she was still mad—as Aelin tried to fall back asleep. And failed. She tossed and turned on bed, chasing her own sleep, to no avail.

“Fireheart,” Rowan said after she wiggled for the millionth time.

She hid her face on his chest and groaned. “I can’t sleep.”

“Does that mean we’re having sex?”

Her glare was answer enough.

A chuckle. “C’mere,” Rowan said, and combed his fingers through her hair, soothing her with gentle caresses.

Shit, those were always nice. She let out a satisfied sigh. “I love you.”

“I thought you were mad at me.”

“But I’ll love you again after 7, so I might as well say it now.”

A pleased hum. “I love you.” He kissed her cheek. “I love you.” Her jaw. “I love you.” Her neck.

Aelin shivered. “You better.”

“Is that so?” Rowan said before turning his pecks into an open-mouthed kiss.

Her breath hitched, and she he arched her neck further to him. Once Rowan had so easily ignited her desire in a way only he could, Aelin grasped the back of his head and said, “May I?”

“So polite,” he said with a satisfied smirk, so Aelin lifted Rowan’s T-shirt she wore and directed his mouth to her bare breast.

Without ceremony, he licked her tit and sucked the tender skin into his mouth, earning a moan from her.

“You alright, Ae?” The glint in his eyes said he liked it too much.

“A bit sensitive,” she rasped. “Must be gettin’ my period soon.”

Rowan hummed and slid his full hand up her other breast, gently squeezing her nipple between his knuckles as he did it, focused on Aelin’s needy reactions. “Not too much?”

“Go on.”

He did, with gentle caresses at first that easily evolved into rough massages and flicks of his tongue against her. Aelin was taken over by Rowan above her and the waves of pleasure he gave her, squirming under his touch to his delight.

When Aelin was certain she could die from this nipple play alone, Rowan moved down her body, hooked her legs over his shoulder, and licked a strip between her folds without ceremony. Aelin’s muffled groans intensified when he applied more pressure with his flat tongue to her clit, and by the time he teased her entrance with his finger, it became a full curse.

“You wanna wake our kid at 5, hun?” Rowan said with no small amount of amusement.

Shit. Not now, and not in the next few hours, if they were lucky. Aelin would combust soon, either from an orgasm or frustration if the first didn’t happen.

“That’s what I thought.” He pecked a freckle on her hipbone. “Be a good girl for me, will ya?”

Aelin nodded, and felt herself melt and tense at once from Rowan’s tongue back on her pussy.

He worked her with nice and slow strokes, applying just the right amount of pressure in all the right places—how his tongue fell against her clit, or his fingers on her hips—Rowan knew her body that well. Aelin was nothing but the embodiment of sweet surrender, letting him set the pace and meeting him with needy jolts of her hips and soft whimpers that tightened his hold on her.

“Fuck, Ro,” she pleaded. No matter how much she muffled them, the sounds of her pleasure still echoed through the room. “You eat me out so good, babe.”

“Quiet, love,” he whispered while moving to muffle her moans with his mouth, leaving his fingers to work her cunt—two inside, thumb on her clit.

She felt her own taste on his tongue, and all off a sudden it was too much. Too much of him, too much of how he made her feel, and her pleasure felt like dam about to burst.

“It’s—“ Aelin gasped, that building tension in her hips tighter each moment. “It’s your fault I’m loud.” Her breath hitched. “You know it is.”

“Fuck- I know.” His kiss was quick and rough this time. “I know, baby.”

Aelin’s orgasm came in a slow burst, carefully built by Rowan’s fingers. Her gut tightened, back arched, and she came undone with stifled noises under him.

Rowan watched it with the same kind of focus he always did, enthralled and a bit wrecked himself by the results of his work.

After the crash, he nestled her against his chest with such tenderness, it was a startling contrast to the version of him that usually manhandled her in bed.

Aelin sighed against his chest, feeling dozy. “Just you wait for me to fuck your brains out, Rowan Whitethorn.”

He shushed her. “Later.”

She hummed questioningly, eyes heavier each moment.

“You wanted to sleep,” he whispered before giving her a forehead kiss.

Oh. She’d forgotten about it halfway through his tit play, though it does feel nice, his hand in her hair like this, after an orgasm with the sun still out.

It kinda makes her body feel a bit heavier, especially the eyelids.

˜˜

Aelin might as well be sleeping still, now that she was currently hearing a famous phrase from some nightmares of hers.

“Mommy, pleasepleasepleasepleasepleeeeeeeeease,” Maisie said, for the millionth time in the last half-hour.

Bringing the kid to do groceries was a lose-lose situation: Aelin was either denying her candy or foods with a cartoon character in the packaging while simultaneously avoiding a tantrum, or freaking out because where the hell did my kid run off to if she’s not harassing me for candy.

This was of the reasons why Aelin and Rowan preferred taking her to the big convenience store closest to their house—that was big enough to look like a mini supermarket—Maisie didn’t have much lengths to run off here; the other reason being the proximity and how much they dreaded Doranelle City’s traffic.

There was the downside of most certainly meeting someone from work since they were neighbors in one big military housing area, but you win some, you lose some.

Maisie was still giving her puppy eyes, one hand holding a pack of gummy bears, and a hand basket she picked at front with sly intentions in the other.

Squinting her eyes at this cunning little thing she birthed, Aelin picked the pack from Maisie’s hand. The little girl watched with blatant anticipation as her mom examined this specific request.

Fuck, the kid picked the good shit this time. Maybe if Aelin and Maisie shared… no.

“I don’t think so, Maisy Daisy,” she said with a kind of heartbreak her daughter wouldn’t understand.

The girl’s face fell. “But I said please!”

“I know, honey, you were very polite about it, but—” Because Aelin was really looking forward for those gummy bears too, an idea came up. “I’ll let you choose between this and the sour one.”

The little girl frowned at the candy already secured in her basket. Maisie didn’t exactly like this, but it was enough to make her weight her options and courses of action. Then, she tilted her chin up in a defiant manner and took the candy back from Aelin’s hand.

“Are you putting it back on the shelf?”

“I’m shopping with Daddy.”

Weird. She must be really upset with Aelin with make such a request. Maisie might not know how to read big words properly, but she was an expert already on what to ask each parent to get exactly what she wants—Aelin didn’t trust Rowan to deny his daughter a new dog or a trip to Disneyland, but a sugar overdose? There was a reason why their kid initially chose to stay close to Aelin’s cart, not her dad’s.

Still, she made sure Maisie put the gummy bears back where they belonged, then escorted her to Rowan’s cart.

“You’re done already?” he asked before placing a kiss on Aelin’s cheek.

“Nope, she’s just upset she doesn’t have pediatric diabetes yet.”

Rowan chuckled, gave Aelin a forehead kiss, and resumed his shopping.

She left them to it and ventured to the fruit aisle, wondering about how they’ve been doing two separate groceries for the same family, along with: twice the electricity bill, twice the cleaning chores and house maintenance, twice the streaming—those greedy little bitches—subscriptions.

But that’s how they’ve decided to do so far, so Aelin focused back on the fruit, making some mental math on how much she should buy for one day and a half—she’d be staying at Rowan’s for three days after that time, according to Maisie’s custody schedule, so the fruit would rotten before she got back.

Aelin eyed the bananas again—they were being sold in hands of six. There was absolutely no way the three of them would tackle six bananas in less than 48h. If they were together in one house, just one banana hand would suffice. The small bunch would feel like enough, and there’d be no need to separate the bananas.

Aelin could break it and leave the other half at Rowan’s place, yes, but she liked to keep the bananas together, the hand whole. As if it wasn’t enough that they’ve been separated from the tree before the bananas were mature enough to be a proper hand, now the bananas she had were to be broken into smaller pieces.

A little lump swelled on Aelin’s throat, and she looked up, taking a deep breath. She would not cry. Not here, not now. Not ever, if a banana was the subject of her tears.

“So.” A comfortable weight fell on her back. “Are we just staring at the bananas, or…?”

Aelin chuckled, hoping it didn’t come out too watery. She saw Maisie choosing yoghurts down the aisle and leaned her head again Rowan’s shoulder, finally able to quiet her mind once he was near.

“I wanna move in together.”

And just like that, Aelin popped that question at the fruit section of the convenience store. Peak romance.

“I don’t know, Fireheart.” Rowan let out his pre-sass sigh. “I think I’m too comfortable mowing two lawns and ironing my uniform twice because it got rumpled in my bag.”

Aelin chuckled. She squeezed his hand, he squeezed it back, and apparently the deal was sealed.

“Is that why you were… having a moment?”

Rowan knew better than to drop an ‘about to cry’. Neither of them were criers, and no matter how far they’ve come with therapy, Aelin was still very private about her crying.

“It was because of the bananas. Don’t ask.”

Following her order, he fished a familiar pack of gummy bears from inside his cart. “Someone hid this between my stuff. She’s trying to outsmart us, Ae.”

Aelin laughed and took the candy from his hand. “Her problem that she thinks she’s the only smart person in that house.”

“She won’t outsmart you, though—I hope. You’ve probably tried every trick in the book your entire childhood.”

Yes, though while Aelin had two gay uncles that fell into parenthood by accident and were permissive out of pity for losing her parents too young, Maisie had two living parents so intent on parenting her, they tore each other apart.

With a sigh that came from the weariest corners of her soul, she repeated that same old thing inside her head: one day, Maisie would be glad she didn’t develop pediatric diabetes at five years old—that day was not today.

They looked over at her, and she was still at the yoghurt section, sliding her index finger over the refrigerator’s glass door with intense concentration.

“You think she’s reading?”

Their baby was about to finish preschool. They were finding it hard to get used to Maisie trying to decode letters and syllables she finally understood, her little finger underlining words as if it was a requirement for reading.

“Yeah,” Rowan replied with an awed look. “Did you get everything?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“Me too.” He looked over at where Maisie was again. “Do you think I should…?”

“Don’t interrupt her!” Aelin whisper-yelled. She waved the gummy bears at him. “I’m gonna put those back. Wait here.”

Aelin did as she told, taking some time to look at the women’s toiletries on sale before meeting Rowan again.

But maybe she took too much time, because when Aelin came back, there was a blonde woman clinging on Rowan’s forearm like a monkey to a banana tree. He looked uncomfortable,

There was something familiar about this woman, but Aelin couldn’t place it in the time she rushed to join them.

“Dr. Galathynius!” the woman said with faux enthusiasm at the same time Aelin recognized those cerulean blue eyes.

She stopped on her tracks, realization washing her over like a tsunami.

This was the skank she caught flirting with Rowan last year.

Also, one of the doctors from Air Force General. A dermatologist, why they rarely crossed paths—her department was so peaceful it felt like a whole different hospital.

Dr. Remelle Wiselheade could as well be part of the long-gone Doranellian nobility—it didn’t change the fact that she had her chickenish long fingers clawed around Rowan.

“Oh, hi.” Without faking enthusiasm, Aelin extracted Remelle’s hand from her man’s arm, but not without making the point of taking a look at the wedding band on her finger. “How’s your husband doing?”

Remelle didn’t answer. Instead, her eyes were between Rowan, Aelin and Maisie—who looked like a mix of them both. When the pieces fell into place in her mind, she widened her eyes in surprise with a poisonous smile. “I’m finally putting faces to the stories now! It’s hard to believe you’re the reason for all that fuss,” she told Aelin.

The story, meaning whatever people said about her past with Rowan, especially the context in which Maisie came to be. Aelin wasn’t ashamed of it, but the way Remelle brought it up made her want to claw the woman’s eyes out.

“We should go.” Rowan’s jaw was tight, and Aelin had to give it to him: he really did try hard to act polite when Maisie was near. Mala knew this wasn’t his best skill.

“Of course.” Remelle aimed a sly grin at Rowan and said, “Nice seeing you again.”

Rowan blinked, his mouth ajar. Aelin thought he had frozen for feeling annoyed or offended at the blatant flirting, but he tilted his head in pure confusion and said, “Have we met before?”

“Of course, silly!” She casually pointed her index finger at Aelin. “And I’ve been meaning to stop by at ortho! I’ve been getting some awful scar management cases from your post-op patients.”

“I’m so surprised to hear that,” Aelin replied, her jaw hurting from the fakest smile she’s ever wore—it was either that or clock the bitch in the face. The worst part was that she wasn’t sure if Remelle was lying to get under her skin, or if she was getting called out for the dumbasses from her department.

“Honestly, I don’t know what could’ve had happened. Maybe I didn’t double-check my resident’s sutures because I was distracted by the huge pimples on my patient’s face.”

Not a chance this would’ve happened, but Aelin still did a mental note to talk about this to her residents. Possibly with a scolding involved.

Remelle continued, “I don’t mean to tell you how to perform your surgeries, but—“

“You do surgee too?” Maisie asked, only now paying attention to the adults.

The woman frowned at the little girl, taken aback. “Well, no, but—“

“Uncle Orlon did a surgee too, he—“

“He didn’t do the surgery, honey, he—“ Aelin interrupted.

“He had a little bump sucked out of his butt!” Maisie shouted with newfound excitement after listening to the grown-up talk for so long.

Remelle was dead on her tracks, eyes widened with horror at the incredibly unpolished little girl.

“It’s true!” Maisie continued, flailing her arms around with big gestures because she thought the woman’s shock was out of doubt. “He had hemmy-roys! I know because I went to his house and he had a pillow with a hole in it, so I asked him, Uncle Orlon, why is your pillow so unfluffy? And he told me…”

Maisie went on and on, not caring about anyone’s sensibilities as she told Remelle about Orlon’s hemorrhoids in great detail. Fascinating subject for a five-year-old, or maybe just Aelin’s five-year-old. The woman looked frozen, but Aelin refused to believe it was disgust—Remelle might be a dermatologist, but she did go to med school after all. There was no way she was disgusted at a kid’s story about an elderly relative’s hemorrhoids.

“…And now he’s doing a lot better, but his husband has to put cream on his bum every day, and he needs to eat a lot of fruit so it doesn’t hurt when he poops.”

Remelle blinked. “I see.”

“And now we really have to go,” Rowan said. He couldn’t sound less apologetic. “Mais, wanna see how fast you can get to the cashier?”

“Race you!” She shouted and shot down the aisle.

Her parents quickly bid their farewells. Remelle just mumbled a goodbye, the same weirded-out look still on her face when they last saw her.

“Where’re my gummy bears?” Maisie asked at the checkout.

Mother and daughter stared at each other. Maisie knew those gummy bears she smuggled in her dad’s cart weren’t approved, and she knew her mother knew what she did. Aelin knew Maisie knew she knew. On the sidelines of the interaction, Rowan pretended he didn’t know what was going on.

Neither of the three dared say a word. The ride home was remarkably peaceful.

˜˜ “Rowan.” Aelin tried to sound stern, but she liked it too much when he was being playful like this.

In her kitchen, he held her hostage in his arms while she protested, saying she needed to put the groceries away. Her captor was unrelenting, kissing her neck and telling her he needed her now.

“We should meet halfway,” he conceded. “We put away just the fridge stuff and go to your room. How about that?”

However, they had already used most of Maisie’s very limited screen time to do this quickly at his house, putting away his groceries, then came to her place do the same thing. The kid’s TV show episode could end at any given moment, and Aelin better be done by the time it happens.

When she reminded him as much, his small whine was absolutely adorable.

Rowan was undeterred, though. “We live together now. Don’t I have a say in the house rules?”

No, but that brought a small smile to her lips. “Are you okay, though? With living together now.”

They hadn’t had much to talk about that, and she knew the logistics weren’t simple.

“I want everything, Aelin, and I want it for yesterday.” He shuddered out a long breath, and she tried not to read too much into how he tugged her closer from behind, encasing her in his embrace with one thumb brushing her lower belly. “But some of it is just me—stuff I didn’t get to do. Guilt. I’m still sorting that out. And I’m much more comfortable just following your pace, at least for now.”

“Okay, then.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Aelin sighed. “We have a lot to talk about, but we really do need to put away these.”

He groaned, but picked up a plastic bag to help.

She wiggled her eyebrows. “The sooner we do this, the sooner we sort things out, and the sooner we move in together.”

They worked together in silence, quickly tackling bag after bag so they could repeat the same thing in Rowan’s place.

“Fireheart?” Rowan handed her one bag. “I think this goes in your room.”

“Oh.” Aelin eyed the menstrual pads inside. “I found these on sale, they were such a steal!”

Amusement crinkled his eyes. “That’s great, babe.”

She always perked up when she found pads on sale, Aelin thought as she went to her room. She was terrible at tracking her own period, so she bought pads at random and had a stock ready whenever she needed them.

Aelin opened her ensuite’s cabinet door and—

Weird.

Her stock was nearly overflowing.

Weirdweirdweird. Aelin’s heartbeat shot up before she could properly process what was going on.

She didn’t keep good track of her period, but her pads and tampons always kept to a certain amount, but this… this looked almost as if Aelin hasn’t had her period for a while.

Weird.

Aelin took one step back. Another.

Naps with Fleetfoot. Crying over bananas. After-pizza sickness. Fuck.

Time slowed down and everything felt to physically distant—Aelin felt like she was suspended in a void, no solid footing as she walked to the kitchen where she left her things.

“Where’re you going?” Rowan asked when she had her purse and car keys in hands.

“I forgot to buy something.”

“Want some company?”

“No, I—“ Aelin closed her mouth. Smiled. “Just buying some vitamins,” she half-lied.

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Never trust Severus Snape

Pairing: James Potter/Lily Evans

Warnings: cursing

Hurt/comfort ish

1k words

Summary: Lily snaps at James, calling him out for all his unwanted confessions and acts of love. Is that really what she wants though?

The sun was setting, streaks of orange and red painting the sky. It was a beautiful day, most people out on the last day of the weekend. Laughter echoed in the air, and James sauntered over to Lily Evans, confidence in his gait. She was sitting next to Severus Snape in intense conversation. James heard bits of 'He's horrible-' and 'using you -'. James scoffed. As if that was enough to setter him "Hey, Evans!" his voice rang out in the ground. "I wanted to ask you something. Will you go out wit-"

Lily whirls suddenly , stomping the ground."Enough! Merlin, Potter! Do you not know how to take a hint? You have been hounding me this whole year, actually, for the past 3 years, and I have continuously.been.rejecting.you! Do you not know what that means? " Lily fumes, "What does a girl have to do to stop some perverted wierdo making advances on her?! Sev is right, you know. You're a douchebag who doesn't know anything. Hail Potter, the fucking loser who thinks he's so great but you're actually nothing. A nobody who only has one friend that tried to kill my best friend." She pokes him in the chest, nose scrunched in fury. Though she doesn't push him very hard, James stumbles back as if she had punched him. An eerie silence had taken over the moments before laughing ground. "I hate you, James Potter."

James takes a step backwards, tears shining in his eyes. "I-I'm Sorry," A tear falls down his face. "I'm so sorry." And he takes off, only turning back once to the girl he thought would be his forever.

Back in the Gryfffindor dormitory, James sobs into Sirius' shoulder,surrounded by pillows. He murmurs soft nothings into James' ear and soothingly runs his hand in circles around James' back. Remus sits next to him, cooling down a cup of Chai, knowing James needs the taste of home. Remus frowns, "Look, I know Evans is my friend, but that was so unnecessary and so fucking rude. If she wanted you to back off, we all know she's not some pushover that can't voice her thoughts, she would've told you so!" Sirius pulls back, nodding vigorously, "She led you on mate! She let you take her on dates, hang out, giggle whenever you told her you loved her, and now this!?" he made a noise of disgust in his throat. James sniffed, wiping at his nose with his sleeve. "But still, I feel like it's my fault. I should've known, she's right. She has been rejecting me for years. I'm just the one who's daft enough to continue trying." Remus scoffed, handing James the now cool cup of Chai, "Please! She was lapping up your attention, giggling and twirling her hair. Besides, it's a loss for her, losing a guy like you. You're literally head over heels for her."

This just makes James return to the comfort of Sirius' shoulder. Remus leaves to refill James' cup and Sirius tucks him in to his bed. He sits next to James, running his hand through his hair and doing such ridiculous things that he coaxes a watery laugh out of James once or twice. Remus had gone to class, but Sirius had forbidden James from going. "You'll only get more upset when you see her mate. It's not worth it." After a while James suddenly hugs Sirius, murmuring into his hair, "Thanks mate. Thanks so much," Sirius just smiles. "That's what I'm here for, aren't I? What would you do without me?"

When night had well and truly fallen, James gets up, pulling on a coat. "Where are you going?" Sirius calls. "Just-walking. Need to clear my mind." "Want us to go with you?" Remus asks. "Nah, I'll be back in a bit."

James still has an hour left for curfew, but he still brings his invisibility cloak in case he needs it. Walking down the winding path to the lake, he finally settles under a tree next to the bank of the lake. He rests his head on the tree, thinking. He hears a rustle on the grass beside him,and his head snaps to attention. There, he sees Lily walking towards him, and she settles on the grass beside him. "Hi," She says, a wary look on her face. "Hey." James turns away, knowing if he looks at her any longer, he'll start to tear up, which isn't something he wants to do right now. "James, look. I wanted to talk about earlier today and-" "No, Lily, I wanna talk about today. Not only today but the past few years. I want to apologize. You're right. I've been annoying you for the past 3 years and I know it's my fault. I really should've listened, or payed more attention to your obvious discomfort. It's my fault, and I'm really, really sorry. I-I should've known. " Lily looks at him,"No-James, listen, you don't need to apologize I really-"

"Lily-please. Don't," his voice cracks, and he runs a tired hand over his face. "Don't do that. Don't be nice because I'll hope again. You're kindness is one of the many things that made me like you, and if you do it again, I'll never be able to get over you, because, merlin, lily, I love you so fucking much. If there's even a sliver of hope that you might still like me even a little bit, I'll cling on to it. I can't help it, because you're like a magnet. I can't help but be attracted to you. So please, please just hate me, scream at me again, shout at me, but please, don't give me that hope. " Lily looks at him, tears in her eyes. " James, listen. I will give you that hope because I do love you. I've loved you for a while, I just didn't know it. I'm so sorry for today. I was in a shit mood since morning, and everything was annoying me. On top of that, Severus was egging me on about how I shouldn't even speak to you because of that prank you and your mates pulled on him but what he failed to tell me was how he was saved. I should've never listened to him James, Proffesor McGonagall told me later in transfiguration what actually happened. I'm really sorry. Please, forgive me? "

James looks at her, obviously surprised but a sliver of doubt shines in his eyes." Was that out of pity?" Lily sobs, smiling through it."James Potter, you are such an idiot." She flings herself at him, locking him in an embrace and kisses him. And suddenly, all of James' worries melt away.

Fuck, marry, kiss I think yeah

FUCK Remus Lupin.

~