#!bryce masterlist

[effiepie2008]

Peaky blinders:

Tommy Shelby

Alfie Solomons

OC Sister reader series (-Alfie Solomons )

13 resons why:

Zach Dumpy

Bryce Walker 

Montgomery Del la cruz

Cyrus

Clay Jensen - OC sister

Stranger things:

Steve Harrington

Jim Hopper

Teen wolf:

Derek Hale

Peter Hale

Stiles Stilinski

Brett Talbot

Stiles - OC sister 

[peonierose]

Masterlist

☁️ (Fluff) | 🎭 (Angst) | Series 📚 | 📱 (Text Fic / Social Media) | 🔥 (NSFW) | Ⓜ️ (Mature) | 🃏 (Teen) | 🌈 (LGBTQ+)| 🎨 (Artwork)| 🎁 (Gifts from friends)

Open Heart

Set after OH ended

Pink Lemonade - Part 1 - ☁️ | - Luna Auclair (F!OC) x Bryce Lahela (M!MC)

Summary: A surprise waits for Luna. What has Bryce in store?

"Love me Tender" ☁️ | - Luna Auclair (F!OC) x Bryce Lahela (M!MC)

Summary: Bryce and Luna are newly minted parents and weren't prepared of struggling to put their twins to bed. Will they succeed?

Las hijas de Luna ☁️ | - Luna Auclair (F!OC) x Bryce Lahela (M!MC)

Summary: It’s time for Luna and Bryce to welcome their twins into the world. Will there be any complications? Or will the birth go without a hitch?

Don‘t call me Angel ☁️ | - Characters involved: Luna Auclair (F!OC - OH), Bryce Lahela (M!MC - OH), Tobias Carrick (M!MC - OH, Maxwell Beaumont (M!MC - TRR) and Bertrand Beaumont (M!MC - TRR)

Summary: Luna helps Tobias to polish his image. Will she be successful?

Losing Game (4/4) 📚 🎭 | - Luna Auclair (F!OC) x Bryce Lahela (M!MC)

Summary: Bryce and Luna have worked things out. But there is still one visit to make before Bryce and Luna find closure.

Losing Game (3/4) 📚 🎭 | - Luna Auclair (F!OC) x Bryce Lahela (M!MC)

Summary: Bryce visited his dad in prison and now he and Luna are oceans apart, but after a scare during his surgery he can only think of one person to call.

Losing Game (2/4) 📚 🎭 | - Luna Auclair (F!OC) x Bryce Lahela (M!MC)

Summary: Bryce comes back from visiting his father in prison. Though he didn’t tell Luna. Will things work out between them? Or will they drift further apart?

Losing Game (1/4) 📚 🎭 | - Luna Auclair (F!OC) x Bryce Lahela (M!MC)

Summary:  Bryce visits his dad in prison. How will that go? Will they reunite or will they stay apart forever? 

Summer‘s Kiss ☁️ | - Luna Auclair (F!OC) x Bryce Lahela (M!MC)

Summary: Luna and Bryce enjoy a bit of alone time together by Manoa Falls.

I‘m a Sucker for You ☁️ | - Luna Auclair (F!OC) x Bryce Lahela

Summary: Bryce and Luna spend some time on Valentine‘s Day (even though they’re not the biggest Valentine’s Day fans). With one or two presents in between.

Rosé all Day ☁️ | - Luna Auclair (F!OC), Keiki Lahela (F!MC), Evie Auclair (F!OC), Soraya Auclair (F!OC), Meilani Leahi (F!OC) and Bryce Lahela (M!MC)

Summary:  It’s Maxines birthday on February 14th, but Luna knows that Maxine doesn’t like Valentine‘s day. So she and the girls spend some quality time together. Drinking eating, and playing some games.

Looks like Pizza to me ☁️ | - Luna Auclair (F!OC), Bryce Lahela (M!MC), Soraya Auclair (F!OC), Evie Auclair (FOC), Skyler Auclair (M!OC)

Summary: Luna, her cousins Soraya, Evie and Sky make pizza and debate if pineapple belong on pizza or not. Who will win the debate?

Cake by the Ocean ☁️ | - Luna Auclair (F!OC) x Bryce Lahela (M!MC)

Summary: Before Bryce and Luna get a special surprise before their cake testing. Are they ready for this next step in their relationship?

A Pinch of Pink and Blue...This one's for you ☁️🎭 | - Luna Auclair (F!OC) x Bryce Lahela (M!MC)

Summary: Bryce and Luna have the talk about trying for kids. Are they ready for that yet?

Go Blonder ☁️ | - Luna Auclair (F!OC) x Bryce Lahela (M!MC)

Summary: Bryce makes a bet with Jackie. What happens if he loses?

I Do ☁️ | - Luna Auclair (F!OC), Bryce Lahela (M!MC), Hayley. Valentine-Ramsey (F!MC)

Summary: Bryce, Luna and their friends and family were invited to attend Ethan and Hayley‘s wedding.

My Love won't let you down ☁️ | - Luna Auclair (F!OC), Soraya Auclair (F!OC), Bryce Lahela (M!MC), Skyler Auclair (M!OC) and Evie Auclair (F!OC)

Summary: Soraya is heartbroken. Luna, Bryce and Luna's cousin Sky and Evie help her go through it.

Paint Wars ☁️ | - Luna Auclair (F!OC) x Bryce Lahela (M!MC)

Summary: Bryce and Luna turn painting into an afternoon of fun.

A new Chapter ☁️ 🎭 📱 | - Bryce Lahela (M!MC), Keiki Lahela (F!MC), Luna Auclair (F!OC) and Dylan Yu (M!OC)

Summary: It’s prom night for Keiki, but it’s not exactly how she pictured it would go.

'How were we ever strangers...' ☁️ 🎭 | - Luna Auclair (F!OC) x Bryce Lahela (M!MC)

Summary: Luna wants to ask Bryce to marry her, not knowing Bryce wants to ask her too. Will they get a chance to ask each other?

By a Landslide ☁️ 🎭 | - Luna Auclair (F!OC) x Bryce Lahela (M!MC)

Summary: Bryce and Luna take a trip to Hawaii, though they have a tough decision to make.

Just Temporary ☁️ 🎭 | - Luna Auclair (F!OC) x Bryce Lahela (M!MC)

Summary: Bryce heard some nurses talk badly about Luna and there was no way he wouldn't defend her.

'I'll love you through the Madness, babe' ☁️ 🎭 | - Luna Auclair (F!OC) x Bryce Lahela (M!MC)

Summary: It’s Henry's anniversary, Bryce's best friend. Someone at work made some nasty comments and Bryce got into a fight. Luna tries to cheer him up a bit.

Go with the Flow ☁️ | - Luna Auclair (F!OC) x Bryce Lahela (M!MC)

Summary: Bryce gets Luna to try out surfing. It doesn't go as planned.

Always & Forever ☁️ | - Luna Auclair (F!OC) x Bryce Lahela (M!MC)

Summary: Luna decides to get a tattoo. But she's scared to get one alone so Bryce goes with her.

"Wild Blue" ☁️ | - Luna Auclair (F!OC) x Bryce Lahela (M!MC)

Summary: Luna has a photoshoot for a good cause with Bryce's help she's not scared to do the photoshoot.

Only Love ☁️ | - Luna Auclair (F!OC) x Bryce Lahela (M!MC)

Summary: Bryce shows Luna how to french braid, since she can't do it.

Cinnamon Sugar ☁️ | - Maxine Moore (F!OC) x Adam Sinclair (M!OC)

Summary: Maxine go out on their first date. How will it go? Will sparks fly or will it be a flop?

Bittersweet Symphony ☁️ | - Maxine Moore (F!OC) x Adam Sinclair (M!OC)

Summary: Maxine’s & Adams relationship goes a step further. Will they become official? Or will it take them more time?

Kintsugi ☁️ 🎭 Ⓜ️ | - Maxine Moore (F!OC) x Adam Sinclair (M!OC)

Summary: Maxine has trouble with anxiety and depression. Adam shows up to help her through it. As well as her best friend Luna.

Dates and Other Catastrophes - Part 1 -

Wildflower ☁️ | - Keiki Lahela (F!MC) x Koa Haulani (M!OC)

Summary: Keiki who still struggles with trusting guys and entering a new relationship after Dylan broke her heart. That's when she meets Koa. Will she give him a chance or will she let her fear of getting hurt win and therefore miss out on a great connection with Koa?

Blue Lagoon: ☁️ 📱 | - Luna Auclair (F!OC) x Bryce Lahela (M!MC)

Summary: It‘s Bryce’s bachelor party. Let’s see what he and his friends were up to.

Nightmare before Christmas ☁️ 📱 | - Luna Auclair (F!OC) x Bryce Lahela (M!MC)

Summary: Bryce and Luna have a debate if Nightmare before Christmas is a Halloween or Christmas movie.

Hau’oli la Heleui ☁️ 📱- Luna Auclair (F!OC), Bryce Lahela (M!MC), Keiki Lahela (F!MC) and more

Summary: Luna, Bryce and their friends and family celebrate Halloween.

Viva Las Vegas ☁️ 📱 🌈 | - Soraya Auclair (F!OC) x Meilani Leihi (F!OC)

Summary: Two beautiful people are getting married and start a new chapter in their lives.

Pumpkin Spice ☁️ 📱 | - Bryce Lahela (M!MC), Luna Auclair (F!OC) and more

Summary: It’s fall time meaning Luna and Bryce celebrate Halloween with their friends and family.

Pink Champagne - Part 2 ☁️ 📱 | - Luna Auclair (F!OC), Bryce Lahela (M!MC) and more

Pink Champagne - Part 1 ☁️ 📱 | - Luna Auclair (F!OC), Bryce Lahela (M!MC) and more

Summary: Luna and her friends celebrate her birthday and her bachelorette party. Going away on a trip to Greece. 

Best asked question ☁️ 📱 | - Bryce Lahela (M!MC), Keiki Lahela (F!MC), Luna Auclair (F!OC), Maxine Moore (F!OC), Evie Auclair (F!OC), Soraya Auclair (F!OC)

Summary: Bryce and Luna have very important questions to ask.

My number One ☁️ 📱 | - Luna Auclair (F!OC), Bryce Lahela (M!MC), Keiki Lahela (F!MC)

Summary: If Luna and Bryce were a Disney couple which one would they be?

Sunshine ☀️ - ☁️ 📱 | - Luna Auclair, Bryce Lahela, Keiki Lahela, Maxine Moore, Grace Auclair, Skylar Auclair, Soraya Auclair, Evie Auclair

Summary: Luna, Bryce, their family and friends celebrate Brian, Luna's dad's birthday.

Mother's Day - 📱| - Luna Auclair, Bryce Lahela, Keiki Lahela, Maxine Moore, Grace Auclair, Skylar Auclair, Soraya Auclair, Evie Auclair and more

Summary: Just a few picta edits for Mother‘s Day 💐 Enjoy 😊

Bittersweet - 📱 | - Luna Auclair, Bryce Lahela, Keiki Lahela and more

Summary: Bryce and Luna spend their last couple of days in Boston with their close friends. 

Homecoming Part 2 📱 | - Luna Auclair, Bryce Lahela, Keiki Lahela and more

Summary: It’s Bryce’s Birthday. Meaning celebrating and opening presents.

Homecoming Part 1 - ☁️ 📱 | - Luna Auclair, Bryce Lahela, Keiki Lahela and more

Summary: It’s not only Bryce and Luna moving back to Hawaii…it’s also Bryce’s Birthday on April, 16th (Yes, I took my own birthday and used it for Bryce’s as well)

Shamrock Kisses - ☁️ 📱 | - Bryce Lahela (M!MC), Luna Auclair (F!OC), Maxine Moore (F!OC), Keiki Lahela (F!MC) and Hayley Valentine (F!MC)

It's a wrap 📱 | - Bryce Lahela (M!MC), Luna Auclair

Summary: It’s Saint Patrick’s Day and the group‘s celebrating 🥳

L-O-V-E - ☁️ 📱 | - Luna Auclair (F!OC), Bryce Lahela (M!MC), Keiki Lahela (F!MC)

Summary: Bryce, Luna, Keiki and their friends celebrate valentines day.

Let them eat...healthy? 📱 | - Characters involved: Bryce Lahela, Luna Auclair, Keiki Lahela, Maxine, Dylan Yu.

Summary: Bryce tries to motivate everyone to eat more healthy.

❗️On Hiatus ❗️

Nightbound vs. Hänsel & Gretel

Introduction Ⓜ️ | -Gretel van Andresen (F!OC) and Hänsel van Andresen (M!OC)

Chapter 1: Wake up Little Susie Ⓜ️ | - Gretel van Andresen (F!OC) and Hänsel van Andresen (M!OC)

Summary: Hänsel and Gretel two amazing supernatural hunters are working on a new case that leads them to New Orleans and to old friends. So let the good times roll.

Chapter 2: Strange Encounters Ⓜ️ | - Gretel van Andresen (F!OC), Hänsel van Andresen (M!OC), Nik (M!MC), Katherine (F!MC) and Garros (M!MC)

Summary: Hänsel and Gretel arrive in New Orleans and meet some old friends. Will they be able to help them with the case?

Chapter 3: Unexpected Ⓜ️ | - Gretel van Andresen (F!OC), Hänsel van Andresen (M!OC), Grey (M!OC), Vi (F!OC) and Vine (

Summary: Hänsel and Gretel are now in New Orleans. Looking for clues. They’ll encounter someone new. Friend or Foe?

That's Amore 📱 | - Sam Dalton (M!MC), Addison Dalton (F!MC), Sofia Russo (F!MC), Robin Flores (M!MC), Jenny (F!MC), Addison Dalton (F!MC)

Summary: Emma organizes a trip to Italy for her husband Sam, their kids, her best friend Jenny, Robin, Sofia and Addison.

Once TNA & OH Crossover (AU)

Sam Dalton (M!MC), Addison Dalton (F!MC), Ethan Ramsey (M!MC) and Robin Flores (M!MC)

Summary: Addison has stage four ovarian cancer. So Sam and Addi seek a consultation with Dr. Ethan Ramsey at Edenbrook. Will they make it in time?

Part (1/5) Ⓜ️ 🎭 | - Sam Dalton (M!MC) x Addison Dalton (F!MC)

Part (2/5) Ⓜ️ 🎭 | - Sam Dalton (M!MC) x Addison Dalton (F!MC)

Part (3/5) Ⓜ️ 🎭 | - Sam Dalton (M!MC), Addison Dalton (F!MC) and Ethan Ramsey (M!MC)

Part (4/5) Ⓜ️ 🎭 | - Sam Dalton (M!MC), Robin Flores (M!MC), Ethan Ramsey (M!MC)

Part (5/5) Ⓜ️ 🎭 | - Sam Dalton (M!MC), and Addison Dalton (F!MC)

Girls Night

Sam Dalton (M!MC), Emma Anderson (F!MC) and more

Summary: The girls have a fun night together, but things don’t go as planned.

Chapter 1 - What's the Secret password - Ⓜ️ | - Emma Anderson (F!MC), Addison Dalton (F!MC) and more

Part 2 - Party like you mean it - Ⓜ️ | - Emma Anderson (F!MC), Addison Dalton (F!MC) and more

Part 3 - Streaking past your neighbors house Ⓜ️ | - Emma Anderson (F!MC), Addison Dalton (F!MC) and more

Part 4 - Epilogue - You & I Ⓜ️ | - Addison Dalton (F!MC) x Robin Flores (M!MC)

The Tell-All

Robin Flores (M!MC)

Summary: Robins Tell-All interview with Serena Knight. Told from his point of view.

Part 1 - Ⓜ️

Part 2 - Ⓜ️

Thankful

Summary: Robin spends thanksgiving with Sam, Emma, Jenny and Addison.

Bite Me - Gabriel Adalhard and Cas Harlow

Moja Ruža - ☁️ | Rose De Luca (F!MC) x Trystan Thorne (M!MC)

Summary:

Peppermint Kisses | Rose De Luca (F!MC) x Trystan Thorne (M!MC)

Summary: It’s Christmas time and Rose and Trystan spend some time with their family and friends, when their quality time gets interrupted by a pickpocket. Can Rose and Trystan solve the case?

Week 1: All Smiles and Giggles - Luna Auclair (F!OC - Open Heart)

Week 2: Picture this - Hänsel & Gretel (OC‘s - Nightbound)

Week 3: Kala Kala - Luna Auclair (F!OC - Open Heart)

Under Construction 🚧

Other Fics

Both are good 🌈 | - Bryce Lahela (M!MC) x Raleigh Carrera (M!MC)

Colab with @aallotarenunelma

Aallotar's A/N: This project started exactly a month ago, as my great friend Peonie and I were complaining about the lack of fictions about friendship. We discussed and chose a great pair of friends across the Choices universe. Since then, everything has fallen into place, so this fiction is an entry for the Let's Hear it for the Boys event by @choicesficwriterscreations , as well as for the Bi Awareness Week hosted by @choicespride ! This is a labour of love and a lot of fun. Hopefully you'll enjoy it! 💛

Peonie's A/N: I’ve worked on this project with one of my favorite friends, they’ve become one of my closest friends and this is our project. Hope you’ll enjoy this story as much fun as we had writing it 😍💚😚

Set after Open Heart ended

Under the Mistletoe ☁️ | - Luna Auclair (F!OC) x Bryce Lahela (M!MC)

Summary:  Luna and Bryce spend some time with their friends Ethan and Hayley and the open heart gang in Boston. 

Neon Lights ☁️ | - Luna Auclair (F!OC) x Bryce Lahela (M!MC)

Summary: Luna, Bryce and the Open Heart gang go mini golfing. Who will win?

Home is where the heart is ☁️ | - Luna Auclair (F!OC) x Bryce Lahela (M!MC)

Summary: It’s Christmas time. Luna and Bryce get visited by Ethan & Hayley. But it looks like Luna gets to fangirl a little first.

Last Christmas...I gave you my heart ☁️ | - Luna Auclair (F!OC) x Bryce Lahela (M!MC)

Summary: Luna and Bryce spend their first Christmas together.

Chapter 1 - It's getting...green and merry in here

Chapter 2 - Underneath the Christmas tree

Chapter 3 - Unwrapping Presents

Luna Auclair & Bryce Lahela

On the dance floor - Luna Auclair (F!OC) x Bryce Lahela (M!MC)

Luna Auclair - OC of the month July - @choicesficwriterscreations

Asks Luna and Bryce

Luna‘s guilty pleasures

Teddy Bear

NSFW Dream

Auclair Family

Auclair Family Tree

Luna Auclair (F!OC) - @choicesficwriterscreations

Auclair Triplets

Gifts from friends - Edits & Art work

Secret Santa by @ladylamrian

Grey (M!OC - NB) @bayleedraws

April 16th (Another great birthday gift) - @annieruok94

Birthday Gift by @cariantha

Maxine & Adam by @loveliemadness

Luna Auclair 💚 Bryce Lahela by @cariantha and @bayleedraws-sometimesx

Bryce & Luna by @messprongs

Making Waves - @cariantha

My little artsy Luna Auclair (F!OC) - @inlocusmads

A beautiful birthday gift by my amazing friend @mysticalgalaxysstuff

Bryce Lahela (M!MC) - @weetlebeetle

[choicesmonthlychallenge]

🌷Week Five: March 25-31

Thank you to EVERYONE who has submitted a creation to this event or supported a creator who participated in this event. You are absolutely amazing! I have absolutely adored all of your beautiful creations! Thank you for sharing your talents with us! If I am missing any entries, please let me know so I can fix it!

Late entries will be accepted through April 6

[March Prompt List] || [Weekly Masterlists]

⟢America's Most Eligible:⟢

Adan McIntyre (MC) 🎨 by @lilyoffandoms

⟢Blades of Light & Shadow:⟢

Safe 🎨 [Mal x MC] art by @wisejazz ; submitted by @storyofmychoices

⟢Bloodbound:⟢

daffodil (Kamilah) 🎨 by @gaiuskamilah

⟢Crimes of Passion:⟢

Hidden Romance 🖊️ [Trystan x MC] by @storyofmychoices

Home 🖊️ [Trystan x MC] by @thosehallowedhalls

Lofi Beats To Supress Your Anxiety To 🖊️ [MC, Mafalda] by @inlocusmads

⟢Nightbound:⟢

One Special Day 🖊️ [Nik x MC] by @ladylamrian

Peacock Princess 🖊️ [Nik x MC] by @ladylamrian

⟢Open Heart:⟢

A Bite of the Apple 🖊️ [Tobias x MC] by @jerzwriter

Couples Skate 🖊️ [Bryce x OC] by @storyofmychoices

Las hijas de Luna 🖊️ [Bryce x MC] by @peonierose

Say Carrots 🎨 [Bryce x OC] by @storyofmychoices

Spring Shower 🎨 Bryce x OC] by @storyofmychoices

Unlikely Adventures 📱 [Sienna x MC] by @liaromancewriter

Yellow Hibiscus in Bloom 🖊️ [Bryce x MC] by @aallotarenunelma

⟢Unbridled:⟢

Lily of the Valley 🎨 [MC / OCs, Ryder] submitted by @oh-so-youre-a-nerd ; art by @rosefuckinggenius

[jerzwriter]

Merida, Olivia, & Casey World

Open Heart

Dr. Merida Rhys x Ethan Ramsey - @lilyoffandoms Dr. Olivia Hadley x Bryce Lahela - @storyofmychoices Dr. Casey MacTavish x Tobias Carrick - @jerzwriter

Updated 08.24.2024

It all started with this little fic, and from that, all of this grew 🪴. I know I speak for me and Dani when I say we're forever grateful to you for creating this amazing little world where Merida, Olivia & Casey are best buddies who drive the poor guys insane (in the best way).

I really thought we needed a place where we could keep our creations about them together - where they belong! :)

A Little Holiday Cheer [art/fic] - The friends gather at Ethan & Merida's to celebrate the holidays. art - @/artbyainna commission & fic - @jerzwriter

Contrast [fic] - Follow up to Friendly Kidnapping. Merida, Olivia & Casey have a little getaway; what did they get into while they were gone, and how did the guys cope back in Boston. - @jerzwriter

Countdown to 2024 [art] - @/artbyainna commissioned by @lilyoffandoms

Elmo's Special Visit [edit/fic] - @storyofmychoices Olivia has two special guests join her in the Peds Ward!

Friendly Kidnapping [moodboard/fic] - Merida & Olivia have to resort to desperate measures to get Casey away. - @lilyoffandoms

Friendsgiving [fic] - Ethan's grumpy, Merida's excited... and someone is late. - @lilyoffandoms

Friendship & Fashion [fic] - Merida and Tobias are having a blast as they jet off to Paris for Fashion Week, but Merida needs to keep him in check. [Takes place after New Discoveries.]

Harmony of Hearts [fic] - Tobias, Ethan, and Bryce surprise the ladies with a song they wrote for them. - @storyofmychoices

Holiday Cheer [art/fic] - Olivia, Merida, and Casey decide to decorate the Diagnostic Office. art - @weetlebeetle commission & fic - @storyofmychoices

International Day of Women and Girls in Science [art] - @/artbyainna commissioned by @storyofmychoices

Matching [fic] - Merida, Olivia & Casey entertain themselves at a party by finding the perfect pairing for their partner. But Tobias takes it to another level. - @lilyoffandoms

Medical Science [interview/cover] Celebrating three of the loveliest ladies: Olivia Hadley, Merida Rhys on International Day of Women in Science. - @storyofmychoices

Mystery Unlocked [fic] - Ethan keeps skipping out on their Escape the Room group date nights, so they bring the mystery to him. - @storyofmychoices

New Discoveries [fic] - A boy's weekend camping takes a few different turns (literally and figuratively), but they endure and make some new discoveries along the way. @jerzwriter

A Shot of Reality [fic] - Tobias Carrick & Merida Rhys - Merida belongs to @lilyoffandoms. When Merida receives startling news, she hunts down the source to get answers. And he better hope he has the right ones.

Snugglin' Inn [fic] - Merida, Olivia, and Casey's weekend adventure is off to a rainy start, but they always manage to find their own sunshine. - @jerzwriter

Something Sweet [art/fic] Olivia x Bryce, Merida x Ethan, Casey x Tobias - It's Olivia's birthday, and her friends are determined to make it a special day, even if they can't be there. Happy Birthday to Dani! 🥳🥳🥳

Spawn of Tobias [fic] - Ethan comes home to find Merida agreed to babysit (and he's reminded why he doesn't have kids.) - @lilyoffandoms

Sweet Stuff [fic] - Merida, Casey & Olivia have a special day at an amusement park, and one of them is quite amusing. - @jerzwriter

A Text of Reassurance [text fic] - Olivia is feeling a little insecure so she texts Casey hoping to get some reassurance. @storyofmychoices

Texting Gone Wrong [text fic] - Olivia accidentally sends a picture meant for Bryce to Tobias. - @storyofmychoices

Valentine's Day Dinner [fic] - The three couples meet up for dinner, and one couple is late... again. @lilyoffandoms

When Husbands Become Prey [fic] - The women have a plan... and the guys don't know what they're in for. @lilyoffandoms

When Husbands Become Prey 2 [fic] - The plan is put into action, who is the big winner? @jerzwriter

[galatially]

𝑎𝑟𝑖 𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑜𝑛

𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑦 𝑏𝑎𝑟𝑏𝑒𝑟

𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑦𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑛

𝑗𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑐𝑒

𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑠 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡

𝑗𝑖𝑚𝑚𝑦 𝑑𝑜𝑏𝑦𝑛𝑒

𝑓𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑎𝑑𝑙𝑒𝑟

𝑏𝑟𝑦𝑐𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑒𝑦

𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑒 𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑟

[stanathanxoox]

Bryce LaHela Masterlist 3/1/2024

Bryce LaHela x reader

Brought Me Breakfast

Father Christmas

[throneofsmut]

KINKTOBER 2024 MASTERLIST

These will ALL be reader fics. One will be posted everyday of october.

Day One: Breeding with Azriel and Eris Vanserra

Day Two: Stalker / Somnophilia with Azriel

Day Three: Pegging with Cassian

Day Four: Spanking with Eris Vanserra

Day Five: Eating Out with Feyre Archeron

Day Six: Temperature Play with Aelin and Rowan

Day Seven: Losing Virginty with Lucien Vanserra

Day Eight: Against A Wall with Nesta Archeron

Day Nine: Tit Worship / Tit Fucking with Rhysand

Day Ten: Toys with Bryce Quinlan

Day Eleven: Rough / Squirting with Cassian and Nesta

Day Twelve: Fingering / Hate Fuck with Hunt Athalar

Day Thirteen: In Public with Ruhn Danaan

Day Fourteen: Praise with Liam Mairi

Day Fifteen: Deep Throating with Xaden Riorson

Day Sixteen: Edging with Dorian and Manon

Day Seventeen: Thigh Riding with Aelin Galathynius

Day Eighteen: Pregnant Sex with Dorian Havilliard

Day Nineteen: Period Sex with Fenrys Moonbeam

Day Twenty: Size Difference with Lorcan Salvaterre

Day Twenty-One: Daddy / Mommy with Rhys and Feyre

Day Twenty-Two: Orgasm Denial with Manon Blackbeak

Day Twenty-Three: Face Sitting with Rowan Whitethorn

Day Twenty-Four: Corruption with Azriel

Day Twenty-Five: Knife Play with Cassian

Day Twenty-Six: Strip Tease with Hunt and Bryce

Day Twenty-Seven: Wax Play with Eris Vanserra

Day Twenty-Eight: Handjob with Lucien Vanserra

Day Twenty-Nine: Anal Sex with Rhysand

Day Thirty: Cockworship with Dorian Havilliard

Day Thirty-One: Hunter / Prey with Azriel, Cassian, Rhys

****

COMMENT IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST

****

Masterlist

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

(My main masterlist is pinned on my account and THIS masterlist is on it!!)

[makeyoumine69]

Euphoria (Memory Reboot x2)

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader

SUMMARY: After wrestling with the lingering thoughts of Bateman, you finally found yourself open to Paul Allen's offer — a life-changing opportunity. But despite your resolve, you couldn't shake the need for closure. Determined, you sought one last encounter with Patrick, intent on resolving the unsaid and the undone before the cityscape of New York faded into your past.

CONTAINS: Smut, angst, mutual pining, obsessive behavior, desperate & sensual foreplay, anal fingering, pegging, sex toys, face riding, penetrative sex, rimming (Patrick receiving), oral sex (69, blowjobs), edging, biting, spanking, cum shot, masturbating, praise kink, body worship, drug usage, pet names, dirty talk, needy Patrick, misogyny, swearing, gaslighting, manhandling, mind manipulation.

WORDS: 8.7k

SONG REC: VØJ, Narvent — Euphoria

A/N: Hello everyone, I'm sorry it took me quite long to write this, I hope you like it! If you find any mistakes regarding gn!reader, please let me know!

LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST].

The clock’s ticking was the only sound in the opulent meeting room of Pierce & Pierce office. Your heart seemed to beat to the rhyme of ticking, while you were nervously spinning the thin cigarette in your hands but never really trying to actually smoke;  the glass ashtray in front of you would probably be left empty till the end of the day. It was even funny how drastically things changed after that…moment of privacy you shared with Bateman. Starting from that, you couldn’t really get him out of your head, even though it has already been several weeks of your pretending game of “nothing had happened” between you and Patrick. It was a matter of time, when your colleagues would start to notice your strange behavior whenever you and Bateman were in one room. 

Squeezing the cigarette between your shaky fingers, you turned around in the leather chair to look at the New York skyline through the wide window. ‘That it is not an exit,’ echoed in your ears and you tried to shake the nervousness off from your tense shoulders, but the more you were being alone, the more surrounding space was weighing on you as if you were on the very bottom of the Pacific ocean. 

The moment the door swung open and Timothy Bryce entered the meeting room, you were more in control of yourself. “Hey, Tim. Haven’t seen you in ages.”

“Sorry, (y/n). Had a business call with some delusional prick.” Bryce snarled and took a seat across from you.

“Delusional prick?”

"Yeah, you know...delusional," he chuckled and glanced at the cigarette in your hand, which was still more like an accessory. "The guy thought I gave a fuck about his life and his wife, who used to be a whore, by the way."

With a soft snicker, you made yourself more comfortable in your chair, throwing one leg over another. “Wanna smoke?”

“Yep,” he leaned over the table to take the cigarette, your fingers touched for a moment but none of you paid attention. “So, what happened? Why did you want to see me?”

Confused, you took a moment to think about your answer. You worried a lot about picking the right words, but now you were even more anxious. ‘I just need to tell him the truth and that’s all,’ you reassured yourself before turning to face Tim. “Well, the thing is - I’m quitting P & P.”

Tim’s face remained unchanged for a second, but then the man furrowed his brows, tilting his head and rubbing his ear as if he didn’t hear. “You're what? Quitting?”

"Right," you gave him a half-smile and continued. "Recently, I received a very... very good offer from one company in Chicago."

“Jesus Christ. Chicago? Really?”

“What’s wrong with it?”

Bryce lit the cigarette and leaned back in his chair. “Who the fuck even gave you this idea? And why so sudden? You have such a good job here, with a good salary and…” He paused and blew a few rings of smoke. “Do those bastards pay well?”

Laughing heartily, you crossed your arms over your chest and watched the smoke dividing the room in two with a white veil. “So many questions. Are you interested in leaving Pierce & Pierce too?”  That was not a serious question, since you knew that Bryce was more than satisfied with his job. “If I say who recommended that place to me, will you keep it a secret?” Tim nodded even before you could say something else. “I was at one P&P party, that one you decided to skip a week ago. So, there I met Paul Allen and we talked a bit and he mentioned that he just came back from his business trip from Chicago…we had a long conversation, but as a result he proposed to me to think about the option to change my current job.”

All the time while you were speaking, Tim was glancing at you with wide open eyes, his prominent brows curling up and down whenever you mentioned Paul Allen’s name. It was always funny for you to watch Bateman & Co getting so frustrated and annoyed whenever Allen was around or whenever someone discussed his success with having the Fisher account. To say the least, his ability to get a reservation at Dorsia. ‘I’m not gonna tell any of them that Allen offered me dinner in Dorsia after that party.’

“So you were unsatisfied with your job all this time and didn’t say anything? That sucks, (y/n). Didn’t expect that to come, not gonna lie,” Bryce made a low sound which was very similar to growling, but at the same time it also sounded like a scoff. “But, if that really is what you want, then who am I to judge you? We have only one life to fulfill all our needs, right?”

Timothy’s statement was like a balm to your soul, that was exactly what you hoped he would tell you and when he did, you felt some kind of relief washing over you like a breeze of fresh air.

“Thank you, Tim,” you finally grinned and put your elbows on the table. “Glad you didn’t start to read me notations.”

“Are you gonna tell him?”

“Him?” You squinted and tilted your head; your intuition was screaming that something was so damn wrong.

“Bateman,” with a sly smile, Bryce put the cigarette out in a glass ashtray; his glance was eloquent but you never really managed to read it. “I bet he will be upset. Very upset.”

“Bryce ” you rolled your eyes. ‘Is he lying or…?’ That question remained unspoken. “Leave these cheesy jabs to yourself, okay?”

Tim only laughed at your weak attempt to threaten him and stood up from the table. “You know, I saw him with Jean in Arcadia last night…” Now this information could come in handy… “I think they had some kind of date or something, huh,” he chuckled again and fixed his tie, giving the picture on the opposite wall a scrutinizing glance. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but something is definitely happening. In my opinion, you should tell him about your…unexpecting leaving, you know.”

Before you could respond, Timothy Bryce looked at you one last time and left the meeting room. Now, you were left alone but not really alone as the weight of the newfound information lay on your shoulders like two massive dumbbells. ‘If everything is too obvious for Bryce, what other things might the others think about me and Bateman?’ That was a rhetorical question mostly, but still you couldn’t even get up from the chair, sensing the strange, chilling fear inside your chest—what if you were mistaken with accepting the offer of a new job?

Gritting your teeth, you snarled and almost kicked the table from beneath, your palms were clenching and unclenching, thankfully no one could see you like this. Swiftly but nervously, you finally stood up and headed out from the meeting room, striving to avoid any of your soon-to-be-ex colleagues on your way to Bateman’s office. 

How many times have you rehearsed the words you were going to say while you were walking up there? Countless. But still, when you entered Patrick's office and saw his lovely secretary, everything inside you froze - words, emotions, even your breath.

“Hi, Jean,” you mumbled, with a half-smile on your slightly tensed face. “Looking good.”

“Uh, thank you,” the blonde woman replied and fixed the stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

As soon as you heard the echo of Patrick's voice through the office door, a lump formed in your throat and you had to cough several times because of the unpleasant dryness.

“Well,” you paused and glanced at the closed door with a nameplate ‘Patrick Bateman’ on it. “You would help me a lot if you let me have a private conversation with your boss.”

“Patrick is,” her voice suddenly wavered, implying that something was wrong. “He’s busy right now.”

“Oh,” you stepped back involuntarily. “Okay, I can come later.”

“No,” Jean replied curtly. “I’m sorry, but today is not an option at all.”

‘Is that some kind of joke?’ You hummed to yourself, already regretting coming here in the first place. “All right then. Have a nice day, Jean.” Turning around you already stepped out from the office when you head her voice:

“(Y/n), wait. Oh, I hope I pronounced your name correctly.” She blushed once you came back inside. “I think I can tell him about your visit, when he will be less busy.”

That offer was not something you would expect. “Actually, that would be nice,” you clicked on your tongue, considering your next steps. “Tell him that I have a reservation at Dorsia at eight o’clock–”

“Today?” Her question cut off your bluffing. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

You just grinned politely in return. “Yep, today. Tell him…that I need to talk with him about business and stuff. And, that it would be probably the last chance for him to catch up with me.” Jean’s eyes widened for a moment, but you reassured her instantly. “No drama, just changing my job.”

“Uh, that was probably a tough decision?”

“Not really,” you winked at her and crossed your arms over the chest. “But don’t tell him about that, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” She tried to hide her confusion behind a warm smile but failed. “I’ll tell him that you will be waiting for him at Dorsia tonight and that this conversation is very important.”

“Uh-huh,” you hummed and for a moment just stood there, looking at the closed office door. “Thank you, darling. For everything.”

You made a special accent on the word ‘darling’, purposely embarrassing her and leaving no room for any questions and other stuff that would make a current situation even more fucked up. 

After you left Bateman’s office you had to find Allen as only half of what you told Jean was actually bluffing—you knew that Paul had a reservation at Dorsia tonight, considering he was inviting you for dinner. Allen’s strange interest in you wasn’t your top priority at that moment but using it for your sake was something you couldn’t deny at such a situation. So when you finally found Paul in one of the meeting rooms, you persuaded him to give you that reservation, explaining that you wanted to show one of your colleagues Dorsia before you would leave New York and move to Chicago. And even though everyone would find out that that colleague was Patrick Bateman, you wouldn't’ care since you would be far away from here.

A few hours later, the melodious voice of Whitney Houston reverberated off the walls of the opulent living room in Bateman's apartment, the lyrics of "I Wanna Dance with Somebody," which Patrick knew perfectly, striking a chord in his chest every time the song came on.

But today everything was different.

Everything, except some random blonde bimbo who was on her knees between Bateman’s spread legs, sucking his thick cock but not actually giving him any pleasure. Frustrated, the man tugged on her hair without any compassion, bringing her closer, so her nose was almost brushing against his hairy pubis. But almost immediately, the woman began to whimper and claw at the perfect skin of his hips, and he didn't like it.

“What? Already tired?” Bateman sneered and fixated the blonde’s head in one place for a moment by her neck. “Or is that your first time? Then, I’m so fucking honored!"

As soon as the man let the blonde go, she pushed him away and sat back on her ass, breathing heavily. “Are you crazy?” the bimbo inquired and pressed a hand to her half-exposed breasts, her whole appearance looked messy. “I was about…t-to choke on your fucking dick!”

Sighing, Bateman rolled his eyes and just stretched out on the couch, lazily stroking his half-hard shaft. "So, this is your first time?" The woman hesitated to answer, which only made Patrick mock her even more. "Did you tell me that you have a boyfriend? And he works at P&P, right?"

Wiping her mouth with undisguised contempt, the blonde started to get up, but Patrick stepped on the hem of her dress and she almost fell. "Marcus! Stop it!"

"Uh, look at you," the man chuckled, watching her feeble attempts to get up. "Such a pathetic little bitch, pathetic and greedy," the man added, giggling. "Ready to give head to every vice president at Pierce & Pierce! Your boyfriend should be so proud of you."

The woman was on the verge of tears when Bateman finally allowed her to get up and collect her things. She had been in such a hurry that she had left her panties on the glass coffee table. All this gave Patrick much more pleasure than the blonde's inexperienced blowjob.

"Ask your boyfriend to teach you how to suck dicks," he blurted out as the woman rushed into the hallway, rifling through her purse looking for something. "Since he's probably a pro at that sort of thing."

But the girl was already gone. So the man could only laugh to himself, so proud of his cheeky jabs, if only he didn't feel like a schoolboy dreading his upcoming meeting with his teacher. With a heavy sigh, Bateman closed his eyes for a second, his cock was already soft, but his sac were still tense and full of his cum; he felt too unsatisfied with himself, which only made things worse.

What was it even for?

The man could just take some coke, lie down on his bed, close his eyes and think of you—that was enough for him to cum so hard that he had to go to the laundry almost every day because he ran out of sheets. But today was different, considering that Patrick was going to meet you, and not just anywhere, but in fucking Dorsia. It seemed that everyone in this town could get a res there, but not him.

Biting his lower lip, the man looked down at the throbbing cock in his hand - the mere thought of you was making him horny as hell. "Shit…" If only he could reboot his memory and get rid of that scene in the Tunnel. If only. Meanwhile, the Whitney Houston tape continued to play the song "Where Do Broken Hearts Go". Bateman doubted he would be able to masturbate, he was too nervous and stressed out, even imagining you while that bitch was giving him head didn't work. Although it usually did. "Dorsia, huh," the man giggled nervously and checked his Rolex - he still had plenty of time. As if spellbound, Patrick slid to the floor and kicked off his leather shoes, his red tie already loosened and his pants hiked down. Leaning against the couch, Bateman threw his head back and began to jack off, recalling the forbidden, sinful sensations of your hand sliding along his hot flesh. "Mmm-fuck," he moaned and shivered, his free hand already gripping the edge of the white couch, several beads of sweat running down his tense temples. What if today he finally found the courage to confess? Confess that all these days had been a fucking torture for him, that he was ready to crawl on the walls from how much he longed for you, not even physically, but mentally. Maybe, just maybe, your reassurance that everything was not over for him, that maybe he still had a chance to have some normalcy in this cruel world—could change everything?

"Fuck, f-fuck!" Patrick cursed, sensing that his impending orgasm was slipping away from him just by reflecting on the things that were happening between the two of you. Jerking off and thinking about your sexy voice, your hot body and your cheeky smile was one thing, it always turned him on better than anything else, but thinking about the complexity of your relationship… that was not a turn-on for him. Not at all. Cursing to himself, Patrick slicked back his auburn hair and quickly got up to stagger to the bathroom, where he nervously opened the cabinet behind the mirror and found a small white jar of pills. Xanax was his only stress reliever so far. Taking a deep, almost desperate breath, Bateman looked at his reflection, his bloodshot eyes full of tears that threatened to cascade down like a waterfall. "This is not an exit." Patrick told his reflection, but opened the jar anyway and took a handful of pills. Frustrated, unsatisfied, he didn't know how he was going to survive dinner with you, and Dorsia was the last thing on his mind. "Because I'm scared. I'm so fucking scared."

Luckily, the marble walls of his bathroom were the only witnesses to his downfall.

Dawn came to New York faster than you could imagine. All the way to Dorsia you were nervous, but still confident in the plan you had made earlier that day. Even though you had failed in your previous attempt to dot the T's at the Tunnel, today would be different, you were sure of it. ‘I don't even know why, though,’ you chuckled to yourself, and the taxi driver gave you a concerned glance, but you just shrugged it off, signaling him to concentrate on the road.

In the restaurant everything looked the same as when you were here with Paul Allen, but this time you were not the one who was invited, but the one who invited another person—named Patrick Bateman—and speaking of whom, was late and that made you quite anxious. ‘What if he just doesn’t come?’ This thought made you fidget in the chair, your hands fumbling with the napkin on your knees and after telling the waiter for the second time that you were expecting someone else to come, your fingers became cold as if they were frozen. 

“Maybe I can bring you some drinks?” The waiter didn’t give up, spurring you to order at least something to drink.

Quickly running a hand across your strained face, you exhaled loudly and nodded. “Yeah, drinks,” you stummered when you looked past the waiter, noticing the familiar elegant silhouette coming close to your table. “Can you…bring…some water?”

Confused, the waiter glanced down at the full glass of water next to you. “Uh, more water?”

“(Y/n),” Bateman’s voice echoed across the space. “I hope I didn't make you wait for so long,” he chuckled and took a seat at the table. “Had some important business affairs.” The moment he noticed the confused waiter, Patrick gave him his most sassy smile and checked his Rolex for no reason, probably just to show them out. “Can you please bring me a glass of J&B and some fresh salad to your taste.”

‘A salad, really?’ You almost snickered, but instead your face turned into a neutral expression. "Business, huh?"

Bateman rested more comfortably in his chair after the waiter finally left. "You know, some affairs with blonde hair and long legs, big tits and an amazing ass."

That came out of nowhere. 

Still calm, you watched the man across from you smile, surely proud of himself and so damn bossy it was almost absurd. "You mean someone in particular, don't you?"

“Oh, yeah,” Patrick put his both elbows on the table, clasping his hands, revealing his gold Rolex once again. “Her name is Stephany, if I’m not mistaken, she’s a girlfriend of one of our accountants,” the man paused before snickering. “That one who makes monthly reports, you know him. So, I’m a bit late because I couldn't leave such a lovely girl without a treat she deserved.”

Right now, you didn't care if it was true or not—his well-framed—confidence was something you found very interesting and even amusing, as it was proof that he was preparing for this dinner just like you were.

"And that's when I thought vice presidents actually worked at Pierce & Pierce." With a slight grin, you joked and finally took a sip of water, feeling your throat suddenly go dry, just like when you were talking to Jean earlier.

Bateman's sudden laugh rang out like shattered glass. "'C'mon, (y/n), don't pretend you don't know that-"

"I know that your father owns almost half of the company," you interrupted him abruptly, and he wasn't happy about it. "And that gives you certain privileges."

"Don't be envious. It doesn't suit you."

"Envious?" You set the glass of water aside. "I think it was me who invited you here so that you could finally visit Dorsia… at least once."

The air between the two of you was thick with venom and something even more poisonous. Nevertheless, you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't think Bateman was acting like the jerk he undoubtedly was. But, to be honest, you expected him to act a little less smug.

"I still think this place is overrated," Patrick hissed through clenched teeth right as the waiter brought him his whiskey and salad with sliced vegetables and some cheese, which he didn't even touch, taking a big gulp of his drink. "So, uh, Jean told me you wanted to talk to me about something important. What is it?"

The waiter didn't even try to offer to check the menu again and retreated, but he would definitely come back later with the same request, since you hadn't ordered anything yet.

"Well, it doesn't seem to matter anymore," you suddenly declared, crumpling the paper napkin before dropping it on the finest tablecloth. "The thing is—I'm quitting P&P and moving to Chicago. That's it. Nothing special, really."

The moment of silence washed over them both like a tidal wave. Visibly shocked, Bateman just sat there, then nervously straightened his tie and looked around as if to call for help. 'Not so ballsy anymore, Patty?' There was something about the way he was humiliated, something that stirred a burning flame in your gut that came dangerously close to burning you alive from the inside. And again, you would be lying to yourself if you pretended you could control it.

"Chicago?" Patrick repeated as if he hadn't heard correctly.

"Why do both you and Bryce react as if Chicago were a desert island?"

"Heh," Bateman rubbed the bridge of his nose and leaned back in his chair. "So Bryce knows everything. Why am I not surprised?"

"I'd tell you more," that was the moment you'd been waiting for so long—the moment of his vulnerability, and you couldn't stop yourself like a shark who sensed blood in the water. "Paul Allen was the one who actually recommended this job to me."

Patrick's jaw clenched at the mention of Paul Allen. "Really?"

"Yes," you continued to corner him. "One day we were having dinner, here, in Dorsia," you grinned, catching every little change in Bateman's no longer confident face. "He said one of his buddies was starting a new company, and they were looking for specialists… like me."

"Well," he began, sliding his hand across the table's surface as if to calm down. "Good for you, (y/n). Congratulations!" That was the most fake 'congratulations' you ever heard, even though you were expecting a slightly different reaction. "But I don't understand. Why didn't you talk to me before? Before you made your decision."

This question almost made you choke. 'Did he really say that?' And just as you were about to answer, the waiter came across the table again, choosing the perfect moment. Before he could offer to check the menu, you raised your hand in an irritating gesture. "Bring me a vodka and orange juice," Patrick's eyebrows arched almost immediately. "Double vodka, please."

"Yes, s-sure." The waiter stuttered before taking the crumpled napkin and walking away, very stressed.

Without giving yourself time to think, you leaned against the table and muttered. "Why should I? We are not friends."

"Of course not," Bateman scowled, crossing his arms over his broad chest, the black pinstriped suit outlining his physique perfectly. "Not after you gave me a decent handjob in the Tunnel bathrooms."

Patrick caught you off guard by injecting this argument so blatantly into the conversation. "Decent? It was fucking amazing." You growled and quickly turned around to see if anyone was paying attention to your table, and when you were sure there was nothing to worry about, you faced Patrick again. "Too amazing, considering you seem to be thinking about it all the time."

"W-what? I… I didn't…"

Sneering, you tapped your fingers on the table in nervous anticipation of your drinks, even though you hadn't planned on drinking any alcohol, wanting to keep yourself as sober as possible for the dinner and everything that might or might not happen afterwards.

"Relax, Bateman," you rested your chin on your clasped hands, finally allowing yourself to examine his handsome appearance, including the way his cheeks were tinged with a red hue. "You've said too much already."

And from that moment on, you began to feel relaxed, even pleased with all the things Patrick revealed to you, accidentally or not, you would use every little detail to your own advantage when the time came.

A little later, when the waiter finally brought your cocktail, you finished it too quickly, so you asked for it to be repeated under the attentive hazel eyes of the man sitting on the other side of the table. The more drunk you got, the more topics you discussed, but when you mentioned Paul Allen again, you noticed that Patrick's good mood was fading.

"Wait a minute!" You held out a hand to stop him from jumping from one topic to another. "Can you tell me why the mere mention of Paul Allen triggers you so much? Is there something between you two?"

Bateman couldn't hold back a loud, hearty laugh. "That joke's too tasteless even for Bryce," he finished his whiskey, the salad still untouched on the table in front of him. "Allen…he's…not the person he tries to pretend to be."

"Oh?"

"I think he's part of that Yale thing."

You narrowed your eyes and leaned in closer. "Yale thing? What do you mean?"

Patrick quickly licked his lips, not expecting you to delve further into the subject. "Well, I think he's probably a closeted homosexual who likes to do a lot of coke and have orgies with male hookers."

At first you just giggled out loud, not caring that some people were looking at you, but then your face suddenly became serious. "How do you know about that? Did he tell you or…" you smiled playfully. "Did he do something… that made you think so," you bit your lower lip and drank the last drop of your cocktail with unabashed thirst. "That sounds strange…very strange."

"You're drunk, (y/n)," Bateman murmured, tilting his hand as if thinking about something. "Too drunk, which gives me the impression that you're as much of an amateur at drinking as you are at doing coke."

"Uh, s-shut up."

"See? Can't even speak words."

"Maybe...maybe I am drunk, now what? Are you gonna be a fucking gentleman like you always try to be and offer me a ride? Or maybe," you fixed your hair nonchalantly, your vision slightly blurred. "Would you be brave enough to show me your apartment?"

As soon as those words came out of your mouth, you knew there was no turning back, and your inner voice, which usually kept you from doing shit you would regret, seemed to fall asleep from the high level of alcohol in your system.

The man across from you straightened up at your bold suggestion, reading the subtext with ease. "Is that what you want? For me to take you to my place?"

His question hung in the air for a moment before you managed to come up with an answer, but you didn't know how to get out of this situation and turn it into a joke, as you usually did. Maybe you just didn't want to get out of it? Just like you didn't want to let him go when he helped you get up from the table after he'd paid for dinner and the two of you were in a cab. Not to mention when you almost fell down and the man caught you in his arms, but there was still a barrier between the two of you—an invisible wall—the only line that kept you apart. The line that was too dangerous to cross, but too tempting not to think about what lay behind it.

By the time the cab pulled up at the American Gardens Building, you were half asleep on Bateman's shoulder, his Lancome cologne not helping at all, making your mind even more cloudy. But you did your best to get out of the car without his help, letting the cool fresh air bring you some relief and clarity. 

In the elevator, Patrick began to mumble about his musical preferences, but you didn't really pay attention because your brain was overworked trying to come up with a plan B in case things went too far. 'As if they hadn't gone too far already,' your inner voice suddenly tried to break through the thick layers of alcohol, affection and uncontrollable desire.

Bateman's apartment looked exactly as you had imagined—opulent, stylish, and very minimalist. Everything seemed to be in its place, including you, standing next to the tall window in his living room.

"Not a bad view," you admitted, taking off the jacket of your suit. "Not Central Park, but not bad at all."

"Central Park?" Patrick asked, hiding in the kitchen, which was perfectly connected to the living room, but you couldn't see him behind the wall as he examined the large number of different kitchen knives.

"Yeah, you know, Paul Allen's apartment faces Central Park, looks really fancy," you didn't mean to hurt Bateman's feelings, but the moment you turned around and saw him, it was obvious that your words had reached him. "But, I really prefer your place...it's more modern for my taste."

Puzzled, Patrick didn't hurry to join you in the living room, his thin fingers never ceasing to slide up and down the sharp blade in his hand, but at the very last moment, the man put the knife back in its place. With deliberate steps, he walked out of the kitchen and approached his stereo system.

"Really?" He asked in disbelief, as if his life depended on your answer.

Such a reaction from him was oddly appealing, the vulnerability, the desperation in his brown eyes. This was a level of satisfaction that no drug could ever match. Meanwhile, Bateman turned on the music, the charming voice of Phil Collins filling the room as "Invisible Touch" began to play.

The man was examining the tape in his hands when you slowly approached and gently cupped his face, inducing him to look at you. "Yes, I do," you confirmed your previous words, and when Patrick didn't flinch from your touch, you decided to go on, tracing your finger along his sensual lips, fighting the urge to kiss them here and now. "Speaking of preferences," you removed your hand only to place it on the lapel of his suit. "Would you be a good boy and give me a full tour of your apartment, including the bedroom?"

In any other situation, you would probably die from shame at saying something like that, but not now. Not with him, because no sooner had your question escaped your lips than you noticed that his hands were shaking, and the CD was about to fall out of them, so you had to gently grab it and pull it out of his hands. Bateman reminded you of a man struggling with addiction, every twitch of his plump lips, every furrow of his perfect eyebrows spoke volumes about the undeniable affection between the two of you, an affection you were both too exhausted to fight and hide.

Without further ado, you placed the CD on top of the stereo and pressed Patrick against the nearest wall, holding the lapels of his Valentino suit and sealing his hot mouth with yours, opening it wider with your tongue, so eager to taste him again after such a long wait.

"Mmhm," he purred into the kiss, his hands desperately wrapped around your waist, then going lower to cradle your hips, groping and squeezing a little too hard so that you had to bite his lip to make him stop, but the man just growled and pushed you closer, your groins rubbing against each other in the most lewd way possible. "Bedroom...go to the bedroom...and wait for me there."

Bateman's words right after the kiss sounded like nonsense, which you found oddly arousing. With a foxy smile, you licked his cheek, then his neck, almost biting the artery and sucking on the reading mark. "No, no, no, Bateman," you shook your head, grabbing his neck slightly to kiss him again, but he did it first. Even now Patrick was trying to take the lead, your tongues fighting for control like two snakes entwining around each other. "I'm in no mood for games or waiting."

The moment you said it, Bateman lifted you with practiced ease as if you weighed nothing, and you didn't even have a chance to protest as he began to move toward the closed room behind his white couch. In his arms, you finally felt complete, even if you let him take the lead for a while. Noticing the pair of panties on the glass coffee table, you wrapped your legs around him and buried your fingers in his silky hair, ruffling them and letting them fall on his forehead, making him look even hotter.

Jesus, you were on the verge of an explosion just from the foreplay alone.

Bateman's bedroom greeted you with stark white walls, the brightness of which was almost painful to look at as he turned on the light holding you with one arm, and the king-size bed on which he carefully placed you, but you didn't let him pull away, tugging at his tie and forcing him to lay on top of you.

"Fuck, look at you," Patrick grazed your earlobe before massaging your chest through your shirt and hovering over you. "So insatiable, aren't you? Running in circles like a trapped kitten."

Growling, you pulled him closer again to suck on his lower lip, letting your body rub against his so you could feel how hard he was, so painfully hard, considering the sound he made when you snaked your hand between his legs to cradle his bulge. "Are you gonna cum in your pants if I don't stop?"

With a determined persistence, you continued to massage his hard cock through the layers of his expensive clothes as you removed his jacket and then his suspenders, one by one. Bateman didn't interfere as he was also busy getting rid of your clothes without actually tearing them apart.

"Let me," you insisted as soon as you noticed him struggling to unbutton your shirt. "This is my favorite shirt, you know," you gasped, your own fingers trembling, making it difficult even for you to finally remove your shirt. "I don't want it to get torn."

When you finally got rid of the top part of your clothes, the sight of your exposed skin made Patrick grunt in hunger, and the next second the man was already sucking on your nipple, his muscular frame shaking on top of you from your teasing ministrations on his twitching dick and hard balls. Damn, you wanted to suck him dry as much as you wanted to ruin him until he forgot his own name.

"Don't like it anyway," Bateman muttered suddenly, holding your hands above your head. "You need to go to some... fashion shows... maybe you will have more free time in Chicago, considering Paul Allen offered you this job. I'm sure it would be some boring shit."

‘Good Lord, he mentioned him again…’ You rolled your eyes and turned away from his face, eliciting a low rumble from Patrick's massive chest. "What the fuck is wrong with Paul... are you... jealous of him or something?"

"Me?" he asked, confused and you took the opportunity to release your hands and roll over so that you were now on top of him. "I'm not the one bragging about having dinner with him in fucking Dorsia!"

Bateman sounded like a little boy who was upset that no one wanted to play with him, which made you giggle, but then you straddled him and opened his white shirt and removed his tie.

"The more you talk," you murmured as you ran your hands along the smooth skin of his torso, paying special attention to his toned pecs and abs. "The more you make me think you two had a history," you leaned down to teasingly lick his lips, your sneaky hands already working on the zipper of his pants. "But still, I don't care." In one swift motion, you pulled down his pants along with his boxers, watching his thick cock pop out, yearning for your attention. "Mhmm, the last time we were alone you worked me up really good, I wanna return the favor," your hands wrapped around the base of his beefy shaft, the small droplets of his pre-cum already covering its tip, forcing you to lick your lips in hunger. "If you have nothing else on your mind?"

Did you really care about his feelings since you asked him that question? 

The man beneath you was definitely growing impatient, his hands gripping your hips as if he was about to imprint his fingerprints on your skin if you were not wearing your pants. 

"Lie on your side," Bateman suggested suddenly. "Take off all your clothes and lie down here," he tapped the spot next to him and you stood up quickly, as if he had cast a spell on you. Never in your life did you get rid of your clothes faster than now. "Uh, what a cute ass you have, (y/n)."

You frowned at his words, giving him your dead stare as you slipped out of your underwear, giving him the full view—the glint in his hazel eyes was too much to ignore—so you turned around and presented yourself to him; Bateman couldn't help but lazily stroked himself, putting a hand under his head. 

"Tell me, Bateman," you began, your hands slowly sliding down your bare skin. "Have you been thinking about me all this time?" You cupped your ass, bending over a little so he could see the spot right between your legs. "Or have you found a way to forget things you don't want to remember?"

He swallowed hard and closed his eyes for a second. "I wish there was a way to forget." Patrick murmured and watched as you lay on your side in the 69 position, then he did the same, his hot breath scorching the soft flesh between your thighs. 

You wrapped your hands around his hips and eagerly took his drooling dick in your mouth, while he was lapping at your crotch. "Mm-fuck," you jerked against his face, your fingers digging deeper into his skin as Bateman feasted on you like the most delicious meal. "Me too, Bateman, m-me too."

Having said that, you swirled your tongue around the swollen tip of his veiny cock, causing a muffled moan to erupt from his mouth, its vibration sending shivers down the base of your spine, only spurring you on to go further, pushing his dick deeper into your mouth. Soon the room was filled with the soft, wet sounds of your shared oral pleasure, punctuated by soft but powerful moans and groans as you both teetered on the edge of ecstasy. Gripping your ass, Bateman responded to your actions with the same passion, devouring every drop of your flavor and giving you no chance to escape, his strong arms like ropes around your body. After giving his cock the attention it deserved, you decided to tease his heavy balls with light lapping on them, before slipping a finger inside his tight ass, you expected him to protest but instead you heard him moan and the next moment his hips began to move towards your penetrating movements.

"Good boy," you praised him, rolling your eyes at the way the man was sucking on your most sensitive spot. "Taking my finger so well..."

The coil in your lower abdomen was about to snap at any moment, but you still wanted more, you wanted to feel that cock inside you, even if it was going to rip you a apart. Breathlessly, you didn't even remember asking him about condoms, and how you managed to get out of bed and go to the closet, where you found a little box Bateman was talking about—its contents almost made you gasp in awe, so you decided to take it with you.

"Well, well," you crooned as you stepped back into the bedroom. "Should I ask you what this is or are you going to tell me?"

With a wide grin, you held out a large purple dildo, Patrick's eyes twitched and he gulped, leaning on his elbows. "I... I use it with hookers," the man confessed, licking his glistening lips covered with your juices. "Why?"

"Hmmm, you like watching women play with it?" You asked as you reached the bed. "How about actually using it and not just watching?"

Damn, you could swear you saw his breath catch in his throat, his muscles tense and his dick throbbing just at the mention of using that sex toy on him. 'So he likes that idea, what a naughty boy,' you chuckled to yourself and took your place on the bed next to him. "This is going to feel so good, baby," you brought the dildo to his lips, suggesting that he lick it for lubrication, and when he did, you could barely keep yourself from cumming, just from the sight of his tongue flicking around the tip of the silicone sex toy. "Get on your knees and let me take care of you."

"Fuck," Bateman cursed, but it was too late to turn back. Embarrassed but extremely aroused, the man got down on all fours and gave you full access to his firm ass, which you immediately fondled, spreading his buttocks and biting them one by one. "Mmh-hmm, (y/n)."

"Relax," you stroked his hips, kissing the lower part of his back just above the dimples that were too sexy to ignore. "God, you have such a beautiful body," you decided to praise him, knowing the effect it would have on him. "I would worship it forever if I could," which was only half true, or maybe...it was not. Leisurely, you showered his soft skin with little peaks here and there, dotting it with your marks of love, not even realizing that you were giving all of yourself to the process.

As you pressed the tip of the dildo against his puckered muscle ring, Patrick tensed at your touch, gripping the sheets and closing his eyes, so overwhelmed and confused at the same time, but your reassuring hand on his trembling one encouraged him to look back at you as you hovered over him to kiss his lips, his neck, his shoulder.

"(Y/n)," Bateman suddenly huffed through his clenched teeth. "I want you to..." he gasped as you flickered your wet finger around his tight asshole. "...fuck."

"You want me to feast on that delicious ass of yours?" You finished the sentence for him, grinning in pure gratification at his complete submission. "Is that what you want?"

"Yeah, y-yes," he grasped the sheets and positioned himself more comfortably on all fours— a clear sign that he was not used to this position and you couldn't miss it. "I want to feel your tongue... all over me."

"Shit, Bateman, you're a real sweet talker." With that you put the dildo on the bed next to you and before you knew it you were spreading his ass cheeks wide open to make a flat lick along his tight hole. "I wanna hear you," you gently but insistently probed his ass with your warm tongue, giving him several slaps on the buttocks that drove the man wild as you felt his velvet walls tighten around your tongue. "Good boy, c'mon, spread it out for me."

Blushing, Patrick used both hands to spread himself for your eager ministrations as you fucked him with your tongue while your hands traveled all around his hips before you wrapped one of them around his pulsating cock, fuck, he was so close, you could tell by the way his balls tensed when you gave them a slight squeeze.

"Don't cum until I let you," you commented and the next moment you were already pushing the sleek sex toy into his ass and this time he accepted it gradually, taking it in with ease—the sight made you gasp but you focused on giving him pleasure. "Tell me, Bateman, how does it feel?"

The question remained unanswered for a brief moment as you began to slid the dildo in and out, stimulating his prostate and causing him to shake and whimper in pure bliss, but when you decided to add fuel to the fire by jerking him off and sucking on his strained sac, Patrick could barely contain himself, his legs about to give way at any moment.

"F-fuck, a-aahhh, mmhhmm," he murmured into the pillow, his hands finding their way to your messy hair, gripping them almost to the point of pain. "I...c-can't...hold...it any longer," Bateman's wailing bounced off the walls of his luxurious bedroom, which had never seen anything like it before. "I..."

Though you wanted him to last longer, you were too overwhelmed yourself, feeling the string in your belly ready to burst. "Let it go," your words were like a balm to his ears as, just a moment later, his cock pulsed in your grasp, spraying loads of his thick cum across the Chinese sheets that Patrick had always been so fond of. "That's it…" You didn't stop fucking him with a dildo, nor did you stop pumping his throbbing dick, milking it until the last drop of his seed. "Good boy, you're such a good boy." 

Panting, you pulled out the sex toy, covered in his slick, and brought it to his trembling lips, inducing him to suck it before taking it into your mouth, feeling the mixture of tastes on the tip of your tongue. Then, Bateman rolled onto his back, desperately gasping for air, his cock still hard. That was fucking phenomenal, but you didn't comment, thinking about your own orgasm at last. Locking your eyes with Patrick's hazel ones, you touched yourself the moment he beckoned you over, and without words, you mounted his flushed, sweaty face, riding it as desperately as you could, using his tongue and lips without shame. Tilting your head back, you grabbed his head and almost clawed at his scalp, feeling your insides about to fucking explode from the tension. So when you peaked, your scream could be heard all over Bateman's apartment. The orgasms you had before were nothing compared to this. It took everything from you, it made you die and rise again.

The final chord of the parade of shameless lust was when you let him fuck you in a way you didn't even expect. Spooning you from behind after he put the condom on, the man lifted your leg and sheathed himself inside of you till the hilt, making you feel so full you had to wrinkle the fabric underneath, but that was just the beginning as Bateman pulled you closer, trapping you in his arms like a cocoon, his tongue sliding around your ear shell with undisguised affection,

"Mmhmm, fuck, you're...so perfect," the man whispered into your ear, setting up the pace and resting his hand between your legs for extra stimulation. "Holy fuck! I'm cumming again, omh-shit..."

"Fuck m-me, yeah, just...l-like that...a-ahhh," you coaxed him to fuck you harder as you suddenly found yourself on the verge of climaxing again. "Gimme everything, baby, a-awww...goshhhhhhhh," you were the first to fall over the principle of pleasure, twitching along his body as if you were hit by the electric shock, all your nerves were on fire. "Bateman, mmhm-fuck-fuck! Your dick feels s-so good.."

Your vivid orgasm became the last straw for his second release as you felt him bite at your neck, his buffed frame shaking in spasms of pure rapture, you even had to hold back a scream from how painfully Patrick's hands squeezed your hips, but it was pleasurable pain of being ruined, of being fucked into a wet mess. Barely breathing, you didn't even remember how you passed out from exhaustion and for the first time in the last few days you fell asleep completely satisfied and happy.

When the first rays of sunlight crept through the blinds into Bateman's bedroom, you were already awake, as was he, but since you were lying with your back to his face, you didn't notice until the man kissed your shoulder, snuggled up against your neck, and made you roll over to face him.

As you did so, you dared to look directly into the brown eyes still clouded by the aftermath of your shared pleasure. "Hey." He muttered in a husky voice.

"Hey," you murmured back, hugging the pillow. "Did you sleep well?"

“Surprisingly—yes," the man stretched his arms, flexing his muscles and checking himself in the mirror on the other side of the room, which you hadn't even noticed. "(Y/n), I want you to go to the office and tell everyone that you're not going anywhere."

Shocked, you blinked several times, not knowing what to say as you hadn't expected anything like this.

With a nervous chuckle that turned into a hearty laugh, you rolled onto your back before sitting up on the bed. "Oh God, you're such a little Delulu, it's even funny," you looked at him—his face was nothing but a blank space without any visible emotions. "Did you really think that random sex would change my mind about changing jobs?" You chuckled again, louder this time. "I mean, the sex was really good, but... it's not like I'm going to give everything for this, you know?" With that, you got up from the bed and wrapped a blanket around yourself. "Can I take a shower?”

Trapped in the thought that only he could know, Patrick rolled onto his back, his eyes fixed on an invisible spot on the ceiling above him. "Yes," he murmured, barely audible. "Do whatever you want."

Walking towards the bathroom, you suddenly stopped and turned half around. "You better forget it," you said, savoring every word and finally returning the favor. "Maybe ask Paul Allen for advice," you grinned as you watched Bateman close his eyes in a feeble attempt to distance himself from everything that had happened. "Maybe he knows something about memory reboot machines that can help."

Without waiting for his answer, you continued on your way to the bathroom. Even though you were pleased with yourself, your revenge didn't taste sweet, but bitter, and its bitterness would remain on the tip of your tongue even after you washed yourself clean under the hot streams of water.

But the game was worth the candle, as they said.

Was it?

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[the-shadowsingers-whore]

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 28

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: It might be my only full length chapter this week but pls enjoy.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The king keeps you within his sight. As promised, the cloak is brought to the tower chamber. You dawn it as the king pulls on the layers of his duty; tunic, breeches, leather armour, boots, cloak, and the small accoutrements to ward off the cold. For how hotly he burned beside you in the night, you would think he could not feel the winter. 

It is early still. The gray of the sky never fully recedes but it is neither pale nor dark. Even so, the day has come. 

There is a single tap at the door. The king backs away from the hearth. You sit at the table, restless in the cloak with the wolf patch. He calls for the knocker to enter. 

Bryce appears from the other side, his saddles bags over one shoulder. "My king. Roach is ready." 

"Very well," he nods, "summer maid," he turns and beckons to you with two thick fingers, "the good lord will take you ahead." 

"My leige?" Bryce wonders what you do not dare ask. 

"Only be concerned that she remains safe. Warm," he nears and shamelessly caresses your check. You flinch as you refuse to falter.  "You will get her to the capital ahead of us. You will be fleet without so many to slow you." 

You meets Bryce's gaze. In all that you've known him, he has never looked afraid. There is fear gleaming on his eyes. 

"I will always serve you, my king. And never have I denied your command, but might I speak plain?" The soldier faces his master. 

"I prefer you for your candour," King Geralt returns. 

"This will not go without note," Bryce says. "Not least of all by the queen." 

"The queen cares little for the maid. She only cares she has someone at her whim." 

"Be that as it may, but it is not her who would notice. Yet, whoever did, would be certain she hears of it--" 

"I fear not my wife and her temper. She is tawdry. A child. Let her whine and stomp her feet," the king dismisses. "Your concern is appreciated. I understand you only mean to protect me, but I care more to keep her safe." 

"Yes, my king," Bryce accedes, "I will not let any harm come upon the maid. As I've not yet done." 

"It is why I trust only you and Roach. Be gone before the party is abreast." The king faces you, surprising you as he kneels before you. You blanch as you notice the shift in the soldier's posture. "My tender maid, keep you well. I regret that it need be this way but after last eve, I must have you away from this tumultuous party." He takes your hand and pets your knuckles before kissing them. He admires your fingers as if they are adorned in gems. "I will see you in the capital. There, then, we can be happy." 

“My king,” you breathe, “what about the queen?” 

“I shall tend to her should she be dissatisfied. That is no longer your worry. She does not deserve you, treasure.” He avows. 

You stare at him. His eyes are eerie in the low light. You would not and cannot deny him. 

“Yes, your highness, as you wish,” you concede. It was never truly your choice. 

“Before we part, pet,” he squeezes your hands. “A kiss?” 

You hesitate. The soldier turns to the door and feigns ignorance. You dip your chin. The king tilts his head up and you lean forward. As you aim for his forehead, he brings his lips to yours.  

He releases your hands and quickly cradles your head as he braces your hip. His tongue pokes along your lips and you relent to his will. That is as it will be. As it has always been. You have ever been servant. 

He finally parts, humming as his bright irises glimmer, “my treasure, my love,” he rasps. 

“My king, I wish you a safe journey,” you utter. 

“And I shall bid the fates the same of you,” he drags his hand down your thigh and stands. “Safe and quick. Off, before my weak heart gets the best of my mind.” 

Bryce’s sole scuffs and he clears his throat, “come, maid. Put your hood up.” 

You stand and bow your head. You pass close to the king, your cloak stirring against him, and you cross to the soldier. He opens the door and trails you out. You do as he bid and pull your hood up. You descend the twisting steps in silence. 

The corridors are no less hollow and a bitter draft wafts through. The roiling of Bryce’s thoughts ripples from him as he marches next to you. You can only sense him past the fabric of the hood. 

“I shall make you tea for the road,” Bryce says at last. “It should keep you warm.” 

“Thank you, sir, but it isn’t needed,” you say. “We should leave quickly.” 

“Aye, we will be away ‘fore any know,” he agrees, “but not without the tea.” 

You offer no further protest. It isn’t your right to argue. You haven been bidden and so you will do. Obedience never chafed before. Obedience was safe, it was sustenance for any maid. 

You go to the kitchens and wait as Bryce boils water and brews a dark tea from leaves in a pouch he digs from his tunic. He offers it. It carries a pungent aroma. You blow over it and sip. You make a face. 

“It is... strong,” you murmur. 

“So it is, but the leaf will help warm your blood,” he insists and paces back and forth. He is restless to be away. You are as well. 

You drink and he ushers you away to the stables. You stride along the row of stalls and he dodges the nip of a dark steed. He flattens himself against another door and snarls, “the damned beast. ‘Less you can tame her, the king’ll have to keep her ‘neath his stubborn arse.” 

You recognise the mare. It is Roach, the king’s mount. You stare at her and she turns her nose to you. 

“Be wary lest she chomps off your face,” the soldier girds. 

You have little mind to worry for your own nose. You raise your hand pet the creature’s long snout as she plumes hot air from her nostrils. He pushes against your palm and eases, leaning into your touch as you brush along her long head. 

“Come, Roach, we have far to go... I believe,” you say. “Be kind to Sir Bryce. He is brave and kind.” 

“Aye, she seen me ‘fore and I never think she’s thought so,” he snorts, keeping his distance. 

You drag your touch down her neck and put your hand on the latch of her door. She nuzzles your hood and you free her. She steps out as Bryce lingers behind you. 

“Can you saddle a horse? Else I’ll have to brave her bites,” he says. 

“I can. Fetch it and her bit.” 

You dress the horses. Daisy is left behind as Bruce claims Chestnut as his own. You’ll miss your usual mount. 

You get astride and head off into the cold dawn. Your stomach churns as you descend the treacherous mountainside. You’re not sure if it is the thin air, the turmoil of what you ride away from, or ride towards. Perhaps it is all at once. 

Bryce stops you in a natural alcove, away from the winds as he searches his saddle bag. He hands you a leather packet. There are oats and nuts within. He spits out the red leaf he chews so often and nibbles on dried meat instead. 

You eat in silence. The food does not aid in the condition of your stomach. You feel rotten. 

The soldier squints and glances out from between the rockface. He tuts and shakes his head. He puts away the jerky and struts out into the open. He looks up the pass. 

“Eh, I know you’ve been there since we left. Better you show your face before I show my steel,” he warns the wind. 

You frown and fold down the flap of the packet. You hear scratching, then it comes clearer, footsteps. How did he know? Why did he not say a word? 

“It is I, sir,” Ezme declares. “Lord Vesemir--” 

“Aye, I know he sent ya. Why?” Bryce crosses his arms. You step away from Roach as she stomps. 

“He did speak with our great king last eve,” she appears just at the edge of your view. “He offered to keep the made. That the king might return to his throne ‘fore he come back to claim her.” 

“And he was denied.” Bryce says. 

“The king was not amenable, no, yet... Lord Vesemir acts only in accord with his duty. He vowed to protect King Geralt--” 

“And to serve him. As I have,” Bryce insists. “No, you will not have her. I’ve been commanded to take her away.” 

“You could remain. Lord Vesemir knows many secret places. Those that are not on maps. It would be as if the two of you were lost. The king wouldn’t know--” 

“He would,” Bryce growls. “I am not fool, even if all others in this forsaken realm might be. I do like my head on my neck.” 

“It is not safe. Not for the king or the maid. Not for you,” Ezme counters.  

“There is nothing safe in this world. Never has been,” Bryce scoffs. “Be away before I prove that.” 

“Sir Bryce, you have never been unkind.” 

“You ask me to commit treason. How should I be?” He retorts. 

Her head shrinks down. She slowly turns to you. Bryce moves to block her. She stops short and speaks over his arm. “Dear friend, know that Lord Vesemir’s invitation will remain. Always. Even after you leave this day.” 

You blink at her. Your heart is racing. You feel sick. Knots tie into themselves in your chest and stomach. You blow out a cloud of warmth breath into the frigid mountain air. 

“Thank you, friend,” you reply. “I shall follow the king’s command.” 

“I understand,” she purses her lips grimly. She steps back and faces the soldier again, “safe journey.” 

He sighs, “you know I cannot accept.” 

“And I had to try,” she says then spins and disappears back up the incline. 

“So is our call to keep on,” Bryce strides back to you and the horses. “Better sooner, the road will unwind on and on. I tire of it already.” 

You climb back into the saddle and set off again. The further you get, the worse you feel. As if you might be sick, or even as if you might need to lift your skirts in some hidden brush. You feel so wretched you can hardly focus on anything but your body. 

“Sir,” you say, “I must stop.” 

“Aye, mouse, we might,” he reins Chestnut as you tug on Roach.  

You nearly fall off of her in your panic. You are going to spew. You stumble and turn to hide the eruptions. You spit up onto the dirt. 

“I have water,” Bryce offers from behind you. 

“A moment, sir,” you breathe as fullness pulses in your pelvis. 

You go around Roach and hide behind her. You pull up the front of the dress, letting the skirts and cloak shield your back. You reach between your legs as slip your hands down your wool underclothes. Your palm comes away streaked and red. Your blood has come. Early. 

“Are you well?” The soldier asks. 

“Sir, I am,” you assure him and wipe your hand on the underside of the skirt. “It is only a womanly trouble.” 

“Aye, oh, aye,” he grumbles awkwardly. “Take ye time, then.” 

You lean on Roach and close your eyes. You are horribly sore already and exhausted to the bone. Still, you can do nothing but persist.  

“I’m ready, sir,” you lift yourself back into saddle. “I would away.” 

“If we are swift, we will be on flat ground by nightfall,” he says. 

⚔️

The days wear on. The first week is counted by the days of your cycle. The pain and the fatigue has you aware of each moment. Then it is the moon that marks the waning of time. 

The road winds away from the mountains and onto the flatlands. Only for a time before trees rise around you and shroud you in shadow, both dusk and dawn. Between the fir needles and veined bark are those noises that keep you unsettled. 

You camp before a small fire. Bryce works at planting the posts to drape canvas over. The snow is kept off the ground by the thick canopy of branches above. There is some dusting here and there, but it is mostly dry. 

“What can I do, sir?” You ask, as you have done every night. 

“I tell ya again to sit and warm yourself,” he sneers as he hammers in the post. 

“And I repeat I would like to help,” you insist. 

“I can manage. I’m not old man,” he sniffs as he grabs the canvas roll. 

“I know...” you pause as you hear another faraway whine. It sends a shiver through you. “Sir, what are those sounds?” 

He chortles as he works at spreading the canvas over the poles. “Why those are the frostwolves. And the low rumbles will be the bears. The skittering the snow foxes, and the shrill ones, those are the winter birds.” He explains, “they leave ya alone, so long as you keep the fire burning.” He ties a corner into place, “besides, they hate the smell of me.” 

“What?” You gasp, amused. 

“Aye, the don’t like my stench. I came eye-to-eye with a bear. Oh, he didn’t stick around to get a second look,” he scoffs. “And I said to the beast, I don’t mess with ya, don’t be gnawing on my leg. See, I’ve got a truce with the winter beasts.” 

You laugh and sway as you hug yourself. It is awfully cold. Your ears and head hurt almost constantly, even with your hood in place, and the gloves only do so much to keep your fingers from tingling, or your boots for your toes. 

“I s’pose they might be lured by the sweet scent of a summer’s maid. A new flavour,” he teases. 

“You scare me, sir.” 

“Scare you? Oh, but this beast is your friend. You needn’t fear the others.” 

You smile through chattering teeth. He stands straight and eyes you with hands on his hips. “Get close to the fire. You don’t want to catch the ague. Not around here.” 

“I am well, sir,” you promise. 

“Then stay well,” he nears and grabs your wrists. He drags you to the pit and guides your hands over the flames. “Keep close to the horses even. They reek but they put off heat more than cinder.” 

You nod and keep your arms out. It is nice by the fire. The further you get on the road, the colder it is. You could never dream of anything so frigid. It makes you wonder how any can survive in this place, let alone build castles or sow a field. And the more you think of what you don’t know, you are faced with what you do know. 

Your fate is as certain as any of the king’s commands. You will remain in the Hinterlands. It will be your home thus you should acquaint yourself to it. You should become tolerant to the winds and the snow and the wailing beasts. 

“Sir Bryce,” you eke out. “Will you tell me more about these woods?” 

“These woods? Trees, wolves, dirt,” he shrugs. 

“No, sir, I want to know more. I want to know everything. About the Winter Kingdom and the people who built it. What about the king? Not our king, but the one before? I hear much and yet I feel I know less.” 

He huffs and tilts his head, “it is best you know as little as possible about that one.” 

“Was he very bad?” You wonder. 

He sniffs, “I can’t tell you all but what I can is that he was selfish. He was negligent of his kingdom and his people even his own son. He let these lands go to spoil. His name is not one any speaks lightly. It is the reason our king is so loved. Because he is all that his father was not.” He dusts off his hands and shakes his head. “At least, we all hope that proves true.” 

[moonlitstoriess]

The Hidden Legacy- A Ruhn Danaan x Rhysands sister series

Chapter 1: The Echoes of a Forgotten Name

Summary: Rhysand’s sister, Seraphis, long thought dead, was taken by the Asteri/Valgs, her memories erased and turned into a ruthless killer loyal to their cause. After Bryce kills the Asteri, Seraphis seeks vengeance on her and everyone else involved. As she hunts them down, Rhysand and the Inner Circle discover the shocking truth: she’s alive, and now their enemy.

See masterlist

Chronomancy: The mastery of time, allowing one to bend, twist, and manipulate the fabric of temporal reality.

The Asteri realm, once an epitome of unyielding power, now lay in ruins. The remnants of it's dark grandeur whispered of a time when it reigned supreme. Shadows flitted through the crumbling architecture, now an empty expanse where the only echoes were those of a fallen empire. The stillness was profound, the silence punctuated only by the faint hum of residual magic.

Amid the debris walked Seraphis, her presence a stark contrast to the desolation around her. Clad in a black cloak that fluttered with her steps, she was a figure of cold determination. Her eyes, sharp and calculating, scanned the remnants of what had been the heart of the Aster's domino. To her, this destruction was not merely a loss but a catalyst for a deeper mission.

Seraphis' existence had been shaped entirely by the Asteri. From a young age, she was taken and molded into their perfect soldier. They told her that her parents had abandoned her, leaving her out on the streets as a newborn to die. She was an orphan with no form of family, no parents or siblings. Her upbringing was harsh and uncompromising. She was trained to harness the full spectrum of temporal manipulation--abilities that allowed her to travel through time, reverse it's flow, and manipulate it's very essence. The Asteri had crafted her to be both a weapon and a guardian of their interests.

Under their guidance, Seraphis had become a master of time's complexities. Once she was old enough and they deemed her fit for it, the Asteri took her with them to new world's as they went on conquering--no sharing their greatness with the world. That's how she ended up joining them when they would go from one universe to another, her time-manipulating power's growing stronger with each time.

She remembers how in Erilea she would send Maeve and Erawan the direct orders coming from the six Asteri. Of course, no one was more pissed than Seraphis when that Aelin Galathynius and her lapdogs ended up winning the war. Well, atleast they got rid of incompetent idiots like Maeve and Erawan. She also played a covert role in the shadowy events that unfolded, aiding the Valgs in their machinations and ensuring their influence remained unchecked. She had begged Polaris, The North Star, to let her go finish what Erawan couldn't but...they didn't allow her, seeing her as too valuable to risk.

When the Asteri's control extended to Midgard, Seraphis continued her work with the same ruthless efficiency. She wove through the intricate tapestry of its politics and power struggles, her presence a silent but undeniable force. Her actions, often unseen, played a key role in the Asteri's manipulation of the city's dynamics.

Now with the fall of the Asteri and their defeat at the hands of Bryce Quinlan, Seraphis found herself in a new reality. The Asteri, the only family--no matter how cruel--she had ever known, were gone, and their cause lay in ruins. Austrus, Eosphoros, Hesperus, Octartis, Polaris, Sirius, Vesperus and....Rigelus.

Oh, Rigelus.

Though millions of years older than her, Seraphis was the only being ever that Rigelus didn't look down on. Instead, he saw her as a close second, always being kind towards her--or as kind as someone like him could be. The respect and authority she held over everyone else just like Rigelus and the other Asteris was impressive.

Seraphis wouldn't call what they had with him love. No, a far cry from that. More like a sick obsession and posession that he felt towards her, always having her watched and protected, kept by his side on every event and conquest. And Seraphis loved every moment of it. She didn't care if that made her look sick, yearning for his and only his attention.

No one could ever understand what she and him had anyway.

Does it matter now? No. No, it doesn't.

Their loss ignited a fierce loyalty within her, driving her to seek vengeance. Those Midgard rats, particularly the bastard Bryce Quinlan, had disrupted everything she had been programmed to protect. Seraphis's focus was singular and unyielding. Her powers, unparalleled in their scope, were a tool for her vengeance. The remnants of the Asteri's legacy would be avenged, and she would ensure that their enemies paid dearly for their defiance.

Maybe, maybe Rigelus was against her being in the battlefield and focusing more on improving her powers more for this very reason. Knowing him and how he would always be fifteen steps ahead of everyone, even his fellow Asteri's, Seraphis wouldn't be surprised if he knew something like this would happen and she would be left as the one to avenge them.

Seraphis’s thoughts were interrupted by a faint sound—a shuffle, almost imperceptible. Her head snapped toward the noise, eyes narrowing as a figure stepped out from behind a crumbled pillar.

The figure was hunched, draped in ragged robes that trailed on the ground, their face obscured by a deep hood. There was something otherworldly about them, an eerie stillness in their movements, as if they weren’t quite tethered to the reality around them.

An oracle, perhaps. Or one of the soulless travelers that drifted through the remnants of the universe, always seeking but never finding.

“You,” the stranger rasped, their voice a dry whisper carried by the wind. “You are lost.”

Seraphis’s expression remained impassive, her hand resting lightly on the hilt of a blade at her side. “I am not lost,” she replied, her voice cold. “I know exactly where I am.”

The traveler’s hooded head tilted slightly, as though studying her. “Do you? You walk among ruins, chasing ghosts of a fallen empire. What is it you seek, child of time?”

Seraphis bristled at the title, her grip tightening on the hilt of her blade. “That’s none of your concern.”

The figure seemed to sigh, a sound that echoed strangely in the empty space. “Vengeance is a heavy burden to bear. The threads of time do not forget. Every action leaves a scar, every choice a ripple. You of all beings should understand this.”

Seraphis regarded them with a penetrating stare. “The Asteri were my family. Their enemies are now my enemies. The vengeance I seek is not for solace but for justice.”

The stranger nodded slowly, their gaze thoughtful. “Justice and vengeance are often indistinguishable in the eyes of those who wield power. But remember, the threads of time you manipulate weave through all that exists. Even in vengeance, there are consequences that ripple forward.”

Seraphis stiffened, her eyes narrowing. “You speak in riddles. Say what you mean.”

The traveler raised a bony hand, palm out, as if to placate her. “I mean only this: Beware of the paths you walk, for time is not a line, but a web. Tug on one thread, and you may find yourself tangled in another. The truth you seek may not be the truth you remember.”

A flicker of unease stirred in Seraphis’s chest, but she pushed it aside. “I know my truth. I will restore the legacy of the Asteri.”

The traveler bowed their head slightly, as if in resignation. “Then may you find what you are searching for. But remember, time itself may turn against those who wield it carelessly.”

Seraphis said nothing, her jaw clenched as the traveler slowly turned away, disappearing into the shadows as if they had never been there at all.

She stood still for a moment, staring after them. Their words clung to the air, echoing in the empty halls of her mind. But she pushed them aside as she always had. There was no room for doubt, no room for hesitation.

There was only vengeance.

Seraphis remained standing, her figure outlined by the towering ruins of the Asteri realm as she watched the shadows engulf the mysterious traveler. Doubt was a weakness, a sentiment she had long been trained to overcome. Her purpose was clear.

Turning back to the wreckage of the Asteri empire, she let her gaze wander over the shattered remains, of what had once been untouchable. Each piece of debris, every crumbled wall, was a reminder of her mission--of the legacy she would rebuild through blood and retribution. The ancient cities, once towering, had now faded into dust, but she would ensure that their enemies would remember them. They would remember through pain, through fear, and through her.

She moved through the ruins with a calculated stride, her mind already spinning threads of time, pulling at the edges of the past. In her hands, time was no mere concept—it was a weapon, one she had sharpened over centuries. She had walked between the lines of history, bending it to the will of the Asteri. They had shaped her, honed her into the ultimate instrument of control.

Rigelus had always been there—overseeing her progress, pushing her further, demanding more. Where others would have seen cruelty, Seraphis had only seen purpose. His obsession with her, the cold possessiveness, had been her source of strength. It drove her to perfect her abilities, to become more than just a soldier. She was his favorite, his chosen, and she had relished every moment of his attention.

The whispers of time teased her now, fragments of events from Erilea and Midgard slipping through her consciousness. Maeve and Erawan had been her pawns, their strings manipulated under the orders of the Asteri. She had done their bidding, silently observing the collapse of entire worlds, her presence unknown to the mortal players. Aelin Galathynius, Bryce Quinlan—all of them had merely been cogs in the Asteri’s grand design, and yet, somehow, they had prevailed.

Seraphis’s jaw clenched. She could still remember the sting of watching Aelin ascend, of seeing Erawan fall. The threads of time she had woven through that world had come undone, slipping from her grasp, leaving her powerless to intervene. That Aelin had won infuriated her. She’d wanted to be there to ensure Erawan’s success, to be the force that would crush the rebellion—but Rigelus had forbidden it.

And now, Bryce Quinlan. Seraphis’s hands twitched, her magic itching at her fingertips. The half-fae princess had killed the Asteri, destroyed everything Seraphis had been built for. Seraphis knew that Bryce’s power over the Gate was formidable, but it wouldn’t save her. No, not when Seraphis had centuries of control over time at her disposal. The moment would come, and Bryce wouldn’t even see it approaching.

But she couldn’t rush. Not yet.

Seraphis knew that striking without preparation was foolish, especially after the Asteri had been blindsided. Bryce would be expecting retaliation, the remnants of Midgard’s population on high alert. Seraphis needed time to plan, to gather intelligence, to weave herself back into the folds of the worlds that were left.

And maybe, just maybe, she’d need allies.

She came to a halt at what had once been the central hall of the Asteri’s council. The chamber had once thrummed with power, where decisions that shaped entire worlds had been made. Now, only silence reigned here. Seraphis’s silver eyes flickered as she raised a hand, time itself responding to her unspoken command. The air shifted, the ruins stirring as she pulled at the threads of the past.

For a moment, the hall was whole again. The pillars straightened, the ceiling restored. Seraphis stood at the heart of it, watching as ghostly figures flickered into place. The Asteri council in all its glory—Rigelus at its helm, the others in their seats. She stepped forward, her fingers grazing the edge of the spectral table.

“I’ll restore it,” she whispered, her voice filled with cold resolve. “I’ll bring you back.”

She let go, and the illusion faded as time returned to the present. The ruins crumbled once more around her. The past, it seemed, was not yet willing to reveal its secrets.

But Seraphis knew it was only a matter of time before she’d be ready to act. The Asteri’s cause had not died with them, and neither had their most powerful soldier.

She turned, her cloak swirling around her as she left the council chamber behind. The traveler’s words, though dismissed, lingered in her mind like an unwanted guest. The idea of consequences—of time itself rebelling against her—was absurd. She controlled time. She was time. The scars she carved into the fabric of history were her own to shape.

As she stepped out into the barren expanse once more, the wind picked up, swirling dust into the air. Seraphis narrowed her eyes. She wasn’t alone.

A voice, soft and detached, called out to her again. “Still chasing ghosts, I see.”

Seraphis’s hand was on her blade in an instant as she turned toward the sound. The traveler from earlier stood at the edge of the ruin, watching her with the same unsettling stillness. This time, though, they did not approach.

“I thought I told you to leave,” Seraphis said, her voice a low growl.

The traveler smiled, though it didn’t reach their eyes. “I did. But time has a way of bringing us back to the places we least expect.”

Seraphis’s patience wore thin. “You enjoy speaking in riddles. Speak plainly or be gone.”

The traveler’s smile faded, their voice lowering. “I am not your enemy, Seraphis. But your path is darker than you realize.”

“I know my path,” she snapped. “And I don’t need your advice.”

The traveler studied her for a moment longer before nodding slowly. “Very well. But remember this—time is not as loyal as you think.”

With that, the traveler turned and walked into the wind, their form fading into the dust.

Seraphis stood there, alone once more, her mind already discarding the encounter. There was only one thing that mattered now: finding Bryce Quinlan and finishing what the Asteri had started.

She would bring time itself to its knees to see it done.

With a final glance at the desolate landscape that had once been the center of her life, she turned on her heel and began to walk, her steps deliberate, her mind racing with plans. She couldn't afford to waste any more time in this hollow place of memories. Midgard awaited her, Bryce and her puppets blissfully unaware of the storm that was coming for them.

Seraphis extended her hand, her fingers shimmering with the familiar hum of temporal power. She closed her eyes, focusing on the thread that would lead her to Midgard. Time bent to her will, the universe shifting around her as she tore through the veils of reality.

When she opened her eyes again, she was no longer in the ruined empire. The air was crisp and cold, the sky above a muted gray. She stood at the edge of Lunathion, the sprawling metropolis stretching out before her, it's towers scraping the sky.

For a moment, Seraphis took it all in--the hum of life and magic, the scent of the sea carried on the breeze, the distant sounds of the city's chaos. It was an intricate web of power, alliances and fragile peace. She would tear through it all.

She pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders, her mind already calculating her next move. Bryce Quinlan might have been the one to kill the Asteri, but she wasn't foolish enough to think that her target would be that simple. Bryce wasn't alone--she had allies, strong ones, and it would take more than brute force to bring them all down.

No. She would need to be smarter, patient. The plan would unfold piece by piece, and by the time they realized what was happening, it would be too late. The city would be hers to dismantle, it's champions falling one by one.

Seraphis began to walk, blending into the crowd with ease, her hood low over her face. The streets were filled with fae, shifters, and ordinary citizens going about their lives, blissfully aware of the storm brewing in their midst.

This was no longer just about vengeance. It was about control--taking back what had been ripped ripped away from her. And Seraphis had no intention of stopping until the last remnants of these street rats were nothing more than dust.

Let the games begin.

Seraphis moved through the crowded streets of Lunathion like a shadow, unnoticed and undisturbed. She watched the people around her with detached curiosity, studying them, their movements, their habits. They lived in this world, so sure of their safety, of the new order that had come with the Asteri’s fall. Fools. 

The Asteri had been invincible for eons, and now that they were gone, these mortals believed themselves free. But freedom was an illusion, fragile as glass. Seraphis would shatter it.

Her power thrummed beneath her skin, the flow of time bending ever so slightly as she moved. With a mere thought, she could slow it to a crawl, watch the world freeze around her while she continued untouched. But now was not the time for such displays. Now was the time for observation, for patience.

She knew the city well, even if she had never set foot in it herself before now. Through the Asteri’s influence, she had seen Lunathion grow, its streets mapped out in her mind long before her arrival. The Asteri had ensured her knowledge was extensive, always keeping her one step ahead of their enemies. That was how she had operated—always in the shadows, just out of sight, but always present.

Bryce Quinlan was the key to it all. She had torn down the Asteri, and for that, she would suffer. But Bryce wasn’t the only one on her list. Hunt Athalar, Ruhn Danaan, and all the other lap dogs. All of them had played their part in toppling the only order Seraphis had ever known.

As she passed through an open market, Seraphis paused, her gaze locking onto a news holo-screen. The display flickered to life, showing a broadcast about the city’s newest heroes. Images of Bryce and her allies flashed across the screen, their faces well-known to everyone by now. The city had hailed them as saviors, but Seraphis only saw targets.

Her lips curled into a faint sneer. “Enjoy the limelight while it lasts,” she muttered under her breath. “It’ll all come crashing down soon enough.”

Without another glance, she moved on, slipping into an alleyway where she could plan her next steps in peace. She leaned against a brick wall, closing her eyes briefly as she reached out with her powers. Time was a river, flowing constantly, but she could see its branches, the possible futures that stretched out before her.

She saw herself confronting Bryce, the clash of power, the chaos that would unfold. But it was distant still—there were obstacles to remove first, pieces to shift into place. She saw glimpses of Bryce and her minions, saw them moving through their lives, unsuspecting. They had no idea she was here, that she was watching, waiting.

But something else stirred at the edges of her vision. Something… unfamiliar.

Seraphis frowned, her concentration breaking as she pulled back from the threads of time. There was a presence she hadn’t expected, a ripple she couldn’t quite place. Someone—or something—was watching her in return.

Her eyes snapped open, and she tensed, scanning her surroundings. The alley was empty, the market bustling just beyond, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being observed. Her hand moved instinctively to the blade at her hip, her muscles coiled for action.

“Show yourself,” she called softly, her voice low and dangerous.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Then, from the shadows at the far end of the alley, a figure emerged.

They were tall and cloaked, their face hidden beneath a deep hood. But unlike the ragged traveler she had encountered in the ruins, this one moved with purpose, with grace. There was a weight to their presence, a power that prickled at the edges of Seraphis’s awareness.

“Seraphis,” the figure said, their voice smooth and calm. “It’s been a long time.”

Seraphis’s eyes narrowed, her grip tightening on her blade. “Who are you?”

The figure took a step closer, their movements slow and deliberate. “You don’t remember me, do you? Perhaps that’s for the best.”

Her patience was wearing thin. She stepped forward, her power surging to the surface, the air around her thickening as time began to bend. “I won’t ask again.”

The figure paused, as if considering their next words. “I’m not here to fight you. In fact, I’m here to offer you something.”

Seraphis’s eyes darkened. “I’m not interested in offers.”

“Oh, I think you will be,” the figure said, a hint of amusement in their voice. “You’re here for revenge, yes? To make those who wronged the Asteri pay?”

Seraphis remained silent, her gaze cold.

The figure chuckled softly. “You may be powerful, Seraphis, but even you can’t take on this crew alone. They have allies, resources—things you can’t even begin to imagine. But I can help you. I know things. I know their weaknesses.”

Seraphis tilted her head slightly, intrigued despite herself. “And why would you help me?”

The figure’s hood shifted as if they were smiling beneath it. “Let’s just say I have my own score to settle with Bryce Quinlan and her friends. We share a common enemy.”

Seraphis studied them for a long moment, her instincts on high alert. She didn’t trust easily—especially not strangers who appeared out of nowhere offering help. Whoever they were, they were dangerous. But perhaps, in this case, dangerous could be useful.

Seraphis let her hand fall from the blade at her hip, though her guard remained up. “You speak as though you know much. And yet, you haven’t even shown me your face.”

The figure laughed softly, a low, melodic sound. “Trust isn’t something freely given, is it? But for now, let’s keep things this way. You’ll find out more when the time is right.”

Seraphis’s eyes narrowed, but before she could respond, the figure stepped back, already fading into the shadows. “Find me when you’ve made up your mind,” they called over their shoulder, their voice trailing off. “You know where to look.”

And with that, they were gone. Only the stillness of the alley remained, along with the faint hum of magic in the air.

Seraphis stood there, contemplating the encounter. Whoever the stranger was, they clearly knew more than they let on. If they could be trusted—or if she could control them—they might be the key to speeding up her plans. For now, she’d keep her distance but watch closely. 

She pushed herself away from the wall, stepping back into the crowd, disappearing once again into the flow of this metropolis life. Her focus sharpened. She didn’t need anyone’s help—yet. She would deal with Bryce and her gang in her own way. But there was something about that presence earlier. It lingered, unsettling her in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. It wasn't quite like anyone she'd known before.

Moving toward the heart of the city, Seraphis caught a flicker of movement to her left. Just a glance, quick, fleeting—but her gaze caught it in time. A tall figure, cloaked in shadows, moved through the market. For a split second, his profile appeared—just long enough for her to notice the tattoos curling up his arms, the way his eyes scanned the surroundings like a predator assessing the area.

Ruhn Danaan.

She didn’t know him. But as her gaze followed him for that brief moment, something stirred in her. A pull. It was faint, distant, almost unnoticeable. She clenched her jaw and forced it aside, refocusing her attention.

He turned a corner and vanished into the crowds, oblivious to her watchful eyes. 

Good. He should remain that way for now. Her target wasn’t him—not yet. She had bigger prey to hunt.

But as she moved away, that strange feeling lingered in the back of her mind.

Seraphis continued through bustling streets, her mind a storm of plans and calculations. She navigated the urban labyrinth with practiced ease, the weight of her mission pressing heavily on her shoulders. The city’s vibrant life was a stark contrast to the darkness she harbored within.

As she walked, she observed the people around her with a cold, analytical gaze. She noted their routines, their behaviors, and the various places that could serve her needs—resources, potential allies, or convenient places to remain hidden. The city had a pulse, a rhythm that she had to understand if she wanted to exploit its weaknesses.

Finally, she found a small, nondescript motel tucked away on a quieter street, away from the main thoroughfares. Its faded neon sign buzzed faintly in the dusk, and the building itself seemed to blend seamlessly into the backdrop of the city’s urban sprawl. It was perfect—low profile and unremarkable, a place where she could stay under the radar.

Seraphis pushed open the door to the motel with a practiced nonchalance, the bell above the entrance jingling softly as she stepped inside. The small lobby was dimly lit, and the air carried the faint, musty odor of old carpets and stale coffee. Behind the reception desk, a man sat hunched over a magazine, his eyes glancing up as she entered.

The man looked up, startled by her sudden appearance. He was in his mid-forties, with a graying beard and weary eyes. He quickly set the magazine aside, his expression shifting from mild curiosity to apprehension as he took in her commanding presence.

Seraphis walked up to the counter, her gaze sharp and unyielding. She placed a stack of cash—more than enough to cover the cost of a room—on the desk, her fingers lightly drumming on the surface as she spoke. “I need a room. Now.”

The man’s eyes widened as he took in the cash, and he gulped nervously. “Of course, ma’am. Right away.” He fumbled with a set of room keys, his hands trembling slightly as he tried to keep his composure.

Seraphis leaned closer, her voice a cold whisper. “I don’t want to be disturbed. Understand?”

The man nodded vigorously, his face pale. “Yes, yes, of course. Room 7. Just down the hall to the left.”

Without acknowledging him further, Seraphis took the key and turned to leave. The man watched her go, his relief palpable. As she walked down the narrow hallway, she heard him muttering under his breath, though she couldn’t make out the words. It was clear he was shaken, and that was exactly what she wanted.

Once she reached Room 7, Seraphis unlocked the door and stepped inside, closing it behind her with a decisive click. The room was small but adequate for her needs—a bed, a table, and a window overlooking the street below. She set her belongings on the table and began to prepare for her next steps, her mind already working through the plans she had laid out.

The motel’s ambiance, with its dull colors and low hum of activity, was perfect for laying low. The chaos outside was a useful cover, and she would use this time to strategize her moves carefully.

The hunt was just beginning and Midgard's fate hung in the balance.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist is open!

[choicesmonthlychallenge]

[March Prompts] || [March Masterlists]

Thank you to everyone who participated this week! Please let me know if I missed anything or if I made a mistake!

⟢Desire & Decorum:⟢

Second Chances - Chapter Twenty Four: The Undeniable Truth [Hamid x F!OC] by @missameliep

⟢Open Heart:⟢

Every Day (+ art) [Ethan x F!MC] by @liaromancewriter

I've Got You (art) [Bryce x F!OC] submitted by @storyofmychoices

Just Fine [Tobias x F!MC] by @jerzwriter

Long Walks (visual) [Ethan x F!MC] by @beyondsimsreality

Sleeping Beauty [Ethan x F!MC] by @liaromancewriter

Stop the Clock [Ethan x F!MC] by @liaromancewriter

⟢Red Carpet Diaries:⟢

Alex Hunt (art) submitted by @theartoflovingthomashunt

Power Couple (visual) by @beyondsimsreality

Selfies with Bogart (art) submitted by @theartoflovingthomashunt

⟢The Royal Romance:⟢

Like Father, Like Son [Liam, son] by @beyondsimsreality

Maxwell Beaumont Birthday (visuals) by @beyondsimsreality

Shattered Heart [F!MC X M!OC, Liam x F!MC (past)] by @bebepac

[b00kdiary]

Better Than Any Fantasy | Ruhn Danaan + Tristan Flynn

Ruhn Danaan x Tristan Flynn x Plus Size Reader

Y/N’s been avoiding Flynn like the plague, and Ruhn knows why and is more than happy to tell him. Especially when that conversation leads to something much better than any of them could have hoped for.

Here's to all my thick, fat, plus-size girlies who want some SJM men love too xo

Warnings: mature themes (18 +) swearing, body-image issues, eventual smut and the Ruhn and Flynn being utterly infatuated with their thick, beautiful lady.

MASTERLIST

“Ruhn!” The sound that escapes Y/N is like sunlight, the kind of goodness that could be bottled up and sold, a cure for the worst and darkest parts of a person’s nature. “Seriously, how can I flip the pancakes if you won’t let me go?”

“Then forget the pancakes,” I grin against the column of her throat, inhaling the feminine scent of her as I hold her to my chest, my fingers digging into the soft flesh of her stomach, keeping her giggling figure close. “We both know they’re going to taste like shit anyway.”

“Asshole! I can’t believe you!” Y/N exclaims, slapping my hand but she does mercifully drop the spoon in her hand, pouting as she turns off the gas, saving us from having to grin and bear through eating them. “Well, no pancakes for you- The Crown Prince can starve.”

“Ouch, that hurts Princess,” I croon, smirking as I turn her to face me, my hands running along her lush body, down to her soft ass, “Looks like I’m going to have to satiate my appetite some other way then.”

“Really?” She whispers, biting her lip and I can smell her arousal in the air, my smirk deepening at the way her chest rises and falls fast, and she clamps her thick thighs shut, trying to stop the ache between them.

“Really,” I slowly nod my head, watching as her eyes flutter shut as I kiss her cheek, peppering and trailing my tongue over her jaw up to her lips. She gasps into the kiss, her back arching into the counter behind her and it takes everything in me to not lift her onto the edge and feast on the sweetness between her thighs.

I slip my tongue into her mouth, tasting the bittersweet hues of vanilla and coffee and it ignites something in my chest, a dark and intense pulse that burns all the way down to my cock, already hard and throbbing against my jeans.

My fingers curl around the curve of her ass, my nails digging in hard enough to make Y/N moan, and I revel in the feeling of her large tits pressed against my chest, and her stomach too, so comfortable and perfect moulding against me.

The sound of footsteps echoing down the hall toward the kitchen has Y/N halting, and the second her hands push gently at my chest, and her lips draw away from mine, I groan. She giggles at the dejection in my voice, on my face, before pressing a chaste kiss to my cheek as she peels herself away from me- those footsteps infinitely closer now.

“You really have the worst fucking timing, Flynn,” I spit, my dark eyes lifting over Y/N's head, to the brown-haired, golden-skinned pretty boy smirking as he leans against the door pane, looking more than amused at my irate glare.

“By all means, please continue,” Flynn shrugs nonchalantly, teasing us but my lip quirks up at the way Y/N’s body freezes, her cheeks turning an adorable shade of red at Flynn’s words- at the secret between us that made her so perfectly embarrassed.

“Hm, what do you think Y/N?” I mutter gently, my breath running warm against her cheek, and I have to bite my lip to force down my bellowing laughter at the murderous scowl she gives me.

“I need to go get ready, I’m meeting Bryce in a few,” She bites back, ignoring my knowing stare as she pushes at my chest, brushing past me, the stains of red deepening as her gaze meets Flynn’s, before immediately looking away.

“Hey, Y/N,” Flynn smiles softly, but his brow furrows as he takes in her fast-paced footsteps and the way her head is pointed down, unable to meet his eyes.

“Hi, Flynn,” Y/N mumbles back quietly, and before he can open his mouth to speak again, she’s rushing past him, her curvy body curling in on itself like a flower so as not to feel every inch of him against her.

I fold my arms over my chest, trying to blanket my expression as her footsteps bound away and Flynn stares after her, his face a mixture of hurt and confusion, so unlike the usual carefree nonchalance and humour we were used to.

“Okay- she’s barely said five words to me in days, any room I enter she leaves, and she can’t even look me in the eyes,” Flynn frowns, frustration locking his jaw as he comes to lean against the counter-top, staring at me in expectance. “What the hell did I do wrong?”

“You’ve noticed all of that, huh?” I muse, cocking my head at him, and the way his frown deepens, and he leans forward makes me smile. “She’s not upset with you, Flynn. But she is distracted- she sees you and her mind turns to something I said.”

“And what exactly would that be?” He demanded, folding his arms across his muscled chest, seemingly relieved that Y/N wasn’t angry with him, but the glint in his eyes had sharpened, and I knew he was interested, knew he couldn’t help but be intrigued by my devilish smile.

“Well…” I run my tongue across my teeth, my mind racing back to that night four days ago, and Flynn’s eyes darken with shadows as I recall every last detail.

“Ruhn,” Y/N moans, her head tossing back to rest against my shoulder, and I nibble on her earlobe as I fuck my hips up into her, the sound of her wetness mixing with her breathless gasps driving me insane.

I groan as she rolls her hips, my fingers gripping into the meaty flesh of her thighs and hips, guiding her back and forth, up, and down, and the feel of her back and ass pressed against my sweaty bare chest is like heaven.

“Don’t stop, please, please,” She pinches her eyes shut, and I love the sight of her face as she takes me, the TV light casting over her, highlighting every expression she makes- every time she bites her lips, or rolls her eyes, or opens her mouth to release the most delicious sound for me.

“Look at you, such a good girl, so fucking polite,” I croon, my right hand sliding up to cup her heavy breast, bouncing wildly with her movements, and I grin as I pinch her pebbled nipple, rewarded with another whimpered moan from her. “And yet you’re riding me like a slut right now, making a mess of my cock and in the living room, for anyone to come in and see.”

“Oh fuck,” Y/N cries, her body sweating and her breathing erratic and I know her peak is close, know by the way her knees start to give out, her fingers cutting into my arm as she tries to anchor herself. I chuckle, my voice low with headiness and I take it upon myself to drive up into her faster, deeper, to hit that spot that has her seeing stars.

“Bet you’d love that, huh?” I mutter, kissing her neck, running my canines down her throbbing pulse point, “Bet you’d love for someone to walk in right now, to watch you get fucked like a good little slut, your entire body on display.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” She nods her head erratically, fucked dumb and swimming in the clouds of her mind as I slip in and out of her, her wetness almost ridiculous, her walls clenching me so goddamn tight.

“Yeah? Does my Princess want an audience, does she want to be watched?” She gasps as I bite against her sweet spot, that hurt turning to pleasure as I lap my tongue there, feeling her racing pulse. “What if someone came in right now… what if Flynn came in right now, you want him to watch? Or do you want him to join?”

The whimper that escaped her at my dark words surprised me, the way her entire body arched and trembled against me surprised me- because she did want that.

“Huh? You want him to join? You want to get fucked and worshipped by me and my best friend?” The idea makes my core burn, and I know we’re both reaching that climax, that euphoric tipping point where she comes around my cock, suffocating me and milking me dry. “Answer me, Y/N, or I’ll stop.”

“Ruhn,” She pleads with me, and the sound almost makes me give in, give her what she wants, but I don’t relent and when my hips start to slow down, pausing, she groans, and the satisfaction that fills me as she nods her head, almost makes me finish right there. “Yes! Yes, yes, I want that, Ruhn, I want that.”

“Want what? Be specific, Princess,” I coax, groaning, guttural and low as I move inside her, her pussy throbbing around me, her body so happy, so fucking relieved at the feeling of me moving again. “Tell me.”

“I want you a-and Flynn, I want-want to be watched,” Her voice is shaking as she speaks, the sound of her ass slapping back against me so lewd in the air, and I have to grit my teeth at the pressure building in my gut. “I want you both- to touch me an-and fuck me, I want you t-to worship my body.”

“That’s my girl,” I praise, knowing that my encouragement was feeding into her pleasure, heightening it and I know she’s imagining the both of us fucking devouring her, “bet you'd look so good with his cock stuffed in your pretty mouth, or fucking in and out of this tight cunt,"

My cock, my words, the images tip her over that edge with a devastating cry.

“Ruhn, Ruhn, Ruhn-“

“That’s why she’s avoiding you, Flynn,” I state hoarsely, ignoring the way my cock aches, the image of her body and the feeling of being inside her tormenting me now that I’d opened that box up, allowing myself to remember it. “Because when she sees you, she pictures that fantasy all over again.”

“Shit,” Flynn mutters and I recognise the roughness in his voice, recognise the intense, unsatiated gleam in his eyes and the way his entire body has gone hard with restraint. He’s imagining her- her body, her tits, her cunt, her mouth, and everything he could do to her.

I would’ve thought the idea of my best friend fantasising about my girl would make me furious, make me murderously jealous and yet, the more I thought about it, the better it all seemed.

“So, Flynn,” I know he sees the challenge in my eyes, the hot mischief as I grin at him, and I see his brows raise in shock, in interest, as I lean forward. “How do you like the idea?”

***

“Ruhn?” I call, my heels clicking against the floor as I walk down the dimly lit corridor toward Ruhn’s room, my voice echoing through the silence of the empty house. “Hello? Ruhn?”

My phone beeps in my hand, startling me, and I pause a few yards from his ajar door, not hearing the familiar sound of my boyfriend's voice or any other person's voice for that matter. I click open our text thread, and heat instantly fills my body.

‘Come inside, shut the door behind you and close your eyes- no peeking.’

Another game. Ruhn loved his games, loved watching me pant and sweat and blush under his ministrations and my body pulsed in excitement, knowing that as long as I followed his rules, as long as I played my part, I would get my reward.

I bite my lip, discarding my phone on top of the bookcase outside his door and my knees felt weak as I slowly walked over, the anticipation clogging the air. I close my eyes as I step over the threshold, my hand on the doorknob as I close it behind me, the wood creaking before clicking firmly shut.

It was a mixture of terrifying and thrilling, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, but knowing that he was in here with me. That his eyes were on me, watching me, smiling, his gaze running over every inch of me as I stood there.

I hear footsteps echo against the floor, getting louder, and closer, and my nipples harden, the crisp air feeling hot and thick in the silence- knowing he was coming, what he would do, heightened everything.

“Always so obedient,” Ruhn’s voice ran over me like a caress, prickling my skin and I shivered under it, knowing he was inches from me. I swallow as his cold hand traced up the sleeve of my dress, moving slowly before resting against my chest, right over my thundering heart. “Nervous? Or excited?”

“Both,” I whisper, my voice breaking under the pressure of it all, his fingers teasing against my hot skin, barely touching me and yet it felt like I could feel him everywhere.

“Good,” He praised, and I inhaled as he slipped his hand into mine, tugging me forward. I followed, blindly, obediently, walking forward as he led me further into the room before eventually stopping, likely only a few feet from his bed.

His hand slipped from mine and the need to open my eyes intensified, the desire to see him almost overwhelming, especially as he circled me, like a predator, not speaking as he came to stand behind me, his hands clamped down like a vice on my waist.

“Do you want to open your eyes, Princess?” He whispers against my ear, and I can smell the mixture of alcohol and apples on his breath, it intoxicated me, and I whimpered quietly, arching my ass into his already hard cock.

“Yes, yes please,” With anyone else I would have been mortified by how my voice shook, at how desperate and helpless I sounded, but not with Ruhn, no, I couldn’t ever feel anything but thrill and need and comfort when with him.

“I think you’ve more than earned your reward,” Ruhn nibbles against my ear, his favourite tactic to make me dizzy, to fill my head with clouds, distracting me wholly. “Go ahead, open your eyes for me, Y/N.”

I inhale once, deep and steadying, and then with a long, slow exhale, I flutter my eyes open.

And my heart stops in my chest.

“Flynn?” I choke out his name, jumping at the sight of him sitting on the bed before me, leaning back on his strong arms, his eyes racking over me like I was prey, “What the fuck?”

“Breathe, just for a second, breathe,” Ruhn instructs from behind me, and my body seems to melt into calm, melt into him. It was as if I were predestined to trust him, to obey his words. I force the air back into my lungs as I stare at Flynn, my body shaking at the look in his eyes- for me.

“I don’t understand,” I mutter, my throat drying out as I glance over my shoulder up at Ruhn, to the pleased smile he wore. I watch as his gaze meets Flynn’s and something passes between them, some unspoken conversation I wasn’t privy to. “Tell me, Ruhn.”

“Flynn was upset that you’ve been avoiding him, he thought he had done something wrong,” Ruhn informs me, looking far too smug. It would have annoyed me if I didn’t feel so guilty for hurting Flynn. “I was more than happy to fill him in on the real reason you were being so distant.”

The real reason. That night, Ruhn’s words, his taunting, seductive, torturous words that have me picturing it all again- Flynn and Ruhn, all over me, touching me, tasting me, fucking me, absolutely ruining me.

“I see you remember it well,” Ruhn chuckles- the prick was taunting me, and I almost hated myself for how my body responded, how my arousal scented through the air, so obvious to the two arrogant males before me. “And we wondered if that certain fantasy was one, we could fulfil for you, Y/N."

“Oh,” It was an idiotic response, one that Ruhn would no doubt endlessly mock me about later, but I was speechless, breathless, my entire being trembling and weak at his words, at the insinuation, nervous under Ruhn’s watchful eyes.

“Is that something you would like, Y/N?” Ruhn mutters, and I sigh as he runs his nose down the vein of my neck, inhaling the scent of me. My eyes glanced to Flynn, patiently waiting, and the sweet smile he wore told me it was all up to me.

“Is- is that something you would want us to do, Ruhn?” My voice is weary as I glance back at him, and upon seeing the fear and concern in my eyes, that he would think I wasn’t happy with him, Ruhn smiles- one that warms my heart.

“I’m yours and you’re mine, Y/N, always,” He kisses my cheek, tenderly, and it’s enough to drive me mad, “But that doesn't mean I can't share, in fact, I'm more than willing to see you being pleasured by us both."

Excitement and thrill- that was always what I felt with Ruhn.

“Then yes,” I breathe the words and instantly the air in the room changes, the two males change and the predators in them, the hunters in them, the instinct of the Fae comes roaring out, their eyes latching onto me.

A low, rumbling sound reverberated through Ruhn’s chest and I felt it vibrate through me, straight to my thrashing heartbeat. I clench my hands as Ruhn turns my face toward his, and the second his lips connect with mine, every worry withers away.

I melt into the way his tongue laps against mine, smooth and graceful, so skilled in making something as simple as a kiss feel as intimate and real as when he fucks me, and it makes me just as wet.

“Why don’t we show Flynn here what’s under this dress, hm?” Ruhn muses against my lips, and I can feel Flynn’s intense stare and it’s almost terrifying how still he is. “Let him see what he's been fantasising about all day."

I gnaw on my lip, nodding my head and turning to watch Flynn’s reaction. Ruhn begins to tug at the zipper at the back, and immediately Flynn’s beautiful face turns lethal, feral, sharpening in a way that made me clamp my legs shut, so desperate to stop the ache there.

He tugs the zipper to the end, and together, we pull the material down my arms and chest, letting it slip over my wide hips and thighs before it pools to the floor at my feet.

“Shit,” Flynn curses, his jaw locking hard enough I can hear his teeth grating, and at that moment, wearing nothing but a black bra and panties, I’m glad that I hadn’t chosen something silly or unflattering to wear today- because he was looking at me like I was the beautiful one.

“I know,” Ruhn says, agreeing with his best friend, his brother, and my cheeks heat at the pride in his voice, the sheer masculine satisfaction. He was pleased with Flynn’s reaction, pleased that his chest was racing wildly, that his throat bobbed as he traced over my skin, pleased at the hard length imprinted against the seam of his jeans. “She looks even better without these on.”

Nausea fills me at the thought of Ruhn unclipping my bra and slipping off my underwear, nausea at the idea of being wholly naked before Flynn, every single curve and roll and stretch mark, all my cellulite and uneven skin and bumps on display.

It had taken me a long time to be comfortable enough for Ruhn to see me naked, and I loved him. Letting Flynn see me that vulnerable seemed like such a big leap to take.

"Is that alright, Y/N?" Flynn asked, and the tenderness in his face almost made me sob, the kind and thoughtful gleam in his eyes that told me that I could trust him told me that he would respect any choice I made.

"It's alright," I nod slowly, pushing down the insecurity and when Ruhn's gentle hands move to the clasp of my bra and he unhooks it, letting my aching breasts fall free of the material, I'm glad for that choice.

I recalled Flynn once stating he was a tits-over-ass man, and right now I could tell he was being honest. I watched as he ran a hand over his jaw, his gaze flickering back and forth between both of my breasts, a deep groan escaping him at the sight of them.

Ruhn chuckles, far too happy as he kneels behind me, his fingers gently hooking into the material of my underwear and began slowly tugging it down, over the curve of my ass and my wide hips, down my thighs, the material getting stuck between the places that touched and eventually down to the floor.

I curled my hands into fists, my nails cutting into my palms as Ruhn held onto each calf and slipped off my heels, one by one, and I giggled at the sound of him tossing the shoes behind us, my clothes and underwear flung back to some faraway corner as well.

"You were right, Ruhn," Flynn states roughly, his tongue lapping out to wet his lips, and I smiled under his eyes, the way they moved over me, over every inch, not blanching at any of me. "She's definitely better without anything on."

Ruhn stood behind me again, running his fingers up and down the length of my back, and something in me purred.

“I think Flynn should get a better look," I mutter, my confidence spiking as I glance back to Ruhn and his smirk is proud, arrogantly proud, "Or a better feel?"

The air went taut as I sauntered toward him, Flynn looking almost nervous as I came to a stop before him, staring down at his perfect form. I place a hand on each of his broad shoulders, my knees weak as I climb onto the mattress, his hands not hesitating to grab my waist and guide me to straddle his lap.

My sore nipples brush against the material of his shirt and my wet, aching core sits perfectly over the seam of his zipper igniting red, hot embers through my entire body. Flynn remains silent as he stares at me, his hands moving over my naked hips and thighs, waiting for me to make the first move.

Even if I could hear his heart racing, his eyes telling me that he was on the very precipice of his control.

"Kiss me, Flynn."

And by Cthona, he kisses me.

The way Flynn kisses is different to Ruhn, his mouth moves against me, all tongue, and teeth, suckling and biting and tasting, and I moan into it, relishing every second of him devouring me, every second of his hands all over me, palming and kneading my flesh, slapping, and clawing at my ass.

“Fuck me, Y/N,” Flynn growls in appreciation and I don’t have a second of reprieve as he kisses down my neck hastily, not hesitating to pluck a nipple into his mouth and suck at the taut bud. Gasps slip past my lips as he rolled it, bit it, lapped at it, the nerves alight as he moved between each, looking damn near giddy as he toyed with them.

The ache between my legs intensifies as he sucks at my breasts and I start rocking back and forth to ease the feeling, the material of his jeans and the hardness of his cock underneath rubbing against my puffy clit perfectly.

"Tsk tsk tsk," Ruhn muses from behind us, and my eyes flutter as I glance at him, moving to sit on the bed beside us, his shirt gone and stars gleaming in his eyes as he watches us. "The poor girls rutting against your clothed cock, Flynn, give her what she wants."

"And what do you want? Hm?" Flynn taunts, trailing his tongue over my nipple, his dewy eyes looking up at me as he does so, and I groan at the sight, and at the hold he has on my hips, halting any movement I try and make.

“Your fingers,” I croak, gripping his large hand and watching his breath catch as I drag it down my stomach, whimpering as I run his calloused fingers over my wet folds. “Right here.”

“You’re going to kill me,” He snarls, and my eyes clamp shut when he circles my clit, firm and sure, his fingers knowing exactly how hard and fast to go, and he has me arching my back and moaning, glad for the hand he had keeping me from toppling over. Flynn smiles, kissing my lips and cheeks, moving his fingers against my clit faster.

It was almost embarrassing how quickly my orgasm seemed to approach, and I knew I wouldn’t last long, not as that fire fanned in my core, edged on by every smooth flick of his fingers at my clit.

“You wanna come, Y/N?" Ruhn asks darkly and when my head turns, I see him palming his hard cock over his jeans, the muscles in his chest clenching and flexing in restraint, watching his best friend finger his girlfriend, and loving every second of it. "Be a good girl and ask Flynn if he'll let you."

"Please, please," I mewl loudly, my head throwing back as Flynn slips two fingers into my sopping cunt, the friction of him fucking his fingers in and out forcing me closer and closer to that edge, "Please, Flynn, let me come."

"So polite, asking me so nicely," Flynn croons and my thighs quake when he crooks his fingers inside me, pressing that magic button that has a swarm spreading through my stomach and core. "How could I possibly say no?"

He hooks his fingers against that spot again, and again, and his thumb brushes my clit and before I know it, I’m falling off the edge of a cliff.

“Flynn, oh-“ I cry out as his fingers drive into me repeatedly, hitting a spot that has my core exploding, hitting me hard and fast and lasting so long that my head starts to spin.

“Atta girl,” Flynn praises, and I feel his smile against my skin as he slows his fingers inside me, feeling every pulse and quake of my orgasm, before slowly slipping them out of me.

I sag forward, resting my forehead against his shoulder for support as I catch my breath, tendrils of release still coiling through me and gradually melting into oblivion. Flynn’s touch is soft across my back, waiting for me to come back down to Midgard.

“How are you feeling, Princess?” Ruhn asks quietly, his hand running through my messy hair, brushing it from my sweaty face and hooking the strands behind an arched ear. I flutter my eyes and meet both their gazes and again, that vicious, relentless monster of need rears its head.

“I feel like I want more,” I whispered, my voice hoarse and the heat that filled their eyes made my entire body ache. “Please.”

“Shit, Ruhn, you weren’t lying when you said she was a good girl,” Flynn growls and I giggle when his hands clamp down on my hips, lifting me with ease to sit on the bed between them both, the two of them rising from their seats. “She does deserve all the praise and rewards.”

“That’s my girl,” Ruhn winks at me and my cheeks burn at his words, joy and shyness filling me at the smile both males wore, looking at me like I was a fucking dream come true. “Move back on the bed, Y/N, we’ll give you what you want,”

Flynn chuckles as I rush to do so, my tits bouncing as I crawl backwards toward the headboard, stopping when I’m in the middle of the bed, space on either side of me.

My mouth waters as the two boys before me begin to reach for their clothes. I watch as Flynn unbuttons his shirt, one by one, almost agonisingly slow before he peels the material off his body revealing inches of muscle and rippling packs.

Where Ruhn was slender and lean, with hard abs and glorious tatted skin, Flynn was bigger, corded muscle and a six-pack for days. My pussy soaked at the sight of them both, grinning like they knew what they were doing to me.

I bite my lip hard enough to hurt as they both reach for their pants, the only sound in the air is my haughty breaths, the clinking of their unlocked belts and the sound of two zippers gracefully sliding down.

I whimper at the sight, a high-pitched, needy sound that makes them both look at me, Flynn raising an amused brow as he reaches down, tugging off his jeans and throwing them to the side, Ruhn following suit.

They were big, both of them. Big and thick, gloriously hung with strong veins and white pearly pre-cum leaking down their tips.

It took me a long time to adjust to Ruhn’s size, and even now my pussy was always too tight, always wrapped around him so painfully that he said it was the sweetest torture. And as I eyed Flynn’s cock, saw how red and angry it looked, I knew he would feel the same.

“Such a pretty girl,” Ruhn muttered, his blue eyes darkening to a tidal wave, a terrifying tsunami as he rounded the bed, his body glorious under the lights as he climbed onto the mattress, settling just behind me. “So, fucking pretty, right Flynn?”

“I can’t argue with you there, Ruhn,” Flynn smirks, and my thighs clench when he crawls onto the bed, his cock rising and hard as he settles just before me, looking down at me like he couldn’t believe his eyes. “I’m very jealous of your boyfriend, Y/N.”

He runs his hands up my calves, his touch bare as he moves up and down, going as high as my hip bone before swiftly moving back down, all the way to my ankles.

“Poor Flynn,” Ruhn laughs, and I groan as his hand slips around my neck, curling his fingers to grip my jugular, tipping my head back to meet his face above me, “You wanna help make our friend feel better, Princess?”

I grin, and Ruhn’s face is a mirror of mine as his hand slips away and I roll over and onto my front, my knees spreading and ass arching into the air. Flynn’s breath audibly catches, and the sound he makes is animal, purely Fae, at the sight of my pussy wet and bare, waiting for him.

“Flynn,” I mewl, my head sagging forward and resting against Ruhn’s stomach as Flynn runs his hands over my ass, scratching and fondling the flesh, but he doesn’t move further. “Please just fuck me, I can’t wait-“

“There we go,” Ruhn mutters and I can hear his grin as Flynn rubs his tip over my wet fold and before I can even moan, he’s pushing the head into my entrance, choking on a rough laugh as my pussy immediately sucks him in.

The sounds that escape me are high-pitched and restless as Flynn shoves the rest of his length inside me, not being gentle or slow, and I’m glad for it. Glad for the way he stretches me so thoroughly, glad that I can feel him sink all the way in, brushing a spot far and deep inside.

“Gods above,” Flynn growls, his nails cutting into the flesh of my ass as he draws himself out, nearly to the tip before plunging back in, the sound of skin slapping and my wetness making Ruhn groan. He swears lowly, watching as I suck up his length inch by inch, starting to move faster against me now.

Ruhn runs his hands over my hair, his face full of pride as he watches me kneel before him, my body wrecking back and forth, my tits bouncing as Flynn pounds into me, our moans a melody.

“Ruhn, Ruhn,” I plead, my wide eyes meeting his and he runs his thumb over my lip, a knowing gleam in his eyes, “Fuck my mouth, baby please, fuck my mouth.”

He didn’t say anything, nor did he wait, and my entire body trembled as his fingers gently collected my hair behind me, easily guiding me over his erect cock, waiting so patiently before me, and I closed my eyes as he brushed the tip over my lips and then pushed into my mouth.

“Shit, Y/N,” Ruhn groaned as he fisted my hair, guiding my head up and down his shaft, hitting the back of my throat more than once. I gagged and then moaned, Flynn spreading my thighs wider, and sinking deep into a tender spot within me.

There was so much spit drooling from my mouth, making a mess of Ruhn’s cock and stomach as he bucked his hips up, fucking my mouth just the way I liked, and as Flynn moved behind me in tandem, his cock slipping in and out, in and out, relentlessly, I was a whimpering, breaking mess.

It felt so good, felt so fucking right getting fucked at either end of me, and Ruhn swore, his body twitching as I moaned around his cock, the sound vibrating through him, bringing him closer and closer to that sweet edge.

“Shit, Y/N, shit,” Flynn gasped, his voice rasping and hoarse, breathless as he gripped my ass, as he had his way with me, still so painfully big but the hurt felt good, brought me closer to my end. “Look at that pussy, wrapped around me so fucking tight.”

His words encouraged me, and I suckled against Ruhn’s cock harder, tasting the familiar saltiness of his pre-cum, loving the ache of his fingers yanking at my hair, the pain at odds with the fullness of Flynn pounding into me, that dam inside me starting to fill.

“Princess, I’m not gonna last,” Ruhn warns, his fingers tightening in my hair, his hips stuttering, and I take it upon myself to get him there, to hear him moan my name as I suck against him, hard and fast, hollowing my cheeks and taking him even further down my throat. “Oh fuck- Y/N.”

He growls an animalistic, rugged sound that echoes through the whole room and makes my clit throb, his body jerking as I feel the warm, salty liquid squirt from his cock straight down my throat. I swallow, I always swallow, moaning happily as I do.

“Flynn, I’m so close,” I call out, Ruhn’s semi-hard cock resting against his stomach now and my face burying into his hip, feeling the tender touch of my boyfriend's hand in my hair, so opposing to the brutal, bruising hold of Flynn behind me.

“Me too, Y/N,” Flynn hissed, his cock starting to hammer into me quicker, and I can barely stop the shaking in my knees. I gasp when his thumb reaches around me, rubbing messily at my clit, and the angle changes, moving further and every single touch is too fucking much.

“There, there, there-“ I call out again and again and again, teeth biting against Ruhn’s thigh, something he fucking loves, as I’m hit with my release, a wildfire that starts at my core, and just erupts, moving through my veins and blood and bones and I can’t stop the sounds coming from me.

Flynn’s hips start to falter, curses endlessly falling from his lips as my pussy clenches around him like a vice, so tight and unyielding that he roars, stilling and growling as his cock spills inside me, filling me up.

Pleasure, hot and white and blinding, dying out so slow as Flynn moves inside me gradually, spreading his hot cum all over me, and it all feels like heaven.

I huff out a huge breath of air, my eyes clamped shut and head spinning and when Flynn ever so gently slips out of me, his hands holding onto the flesh of my hips and guiding me to turn and lay flat on my back, I don’t even fight it.

Pure exhaustion riddles me, so much so, that I lay there, my head against Ruhn’s thigh and my body trembling and weak against the mattress, unable to stop how my core throbs with the aftermath of my orgasm.

I blink open my eyes after several seconds and I’m met with the two males before me, their eyes returned to their usual bright shades of blue and brown, and their lips tilted up, sweet and wonderful as ever.

We’re all covered in sweat and panting, but as Ruhn look down at me from behind, and Flynn sits between my legs, rubbing at my weak thighs, I know we’re all fucked out- for now.

“Did that live up to the fantasy?” Ruhn mutters, his smile adoring as he brushes the hair free from my sweaty forehead, his fingers so gentle as he rubs the spots on my scalp he had yanked at before.

“Better than any fantasy,” I breathe, my cheeks hot as I grin, and Ruhn’s eyes brighten as he takes me in. I gnaw on my cheek, glancing forward to Flynn, his eyes never once leaving mine, “And for you, Flynn?”

“I agree, Y/N,” He smirks, his grip tightening around my thigh, and the look is so telling, that even Ruhn laughs, “So much so that I’ve got a few more fantasies that we could try.”

----------

@mis-lil-red @hyemishii @assaultsofthought @starswholistenanddreamsanswered

[galatially]

𝐶𝐻𝑅𝐼𝑆 𝐸𝑉𝐴𝑁𝑆 𝐶𝐻𝐴𝑅𝐴𝐶𝑇𝐸𝑅𝑆

𝑆𝐸𝐵𝐴𝑆𝑇𝐼𝐴𝑁 𝑆𝑇𝐴𝑁 𝐶𝐻𝐴𝑅𝐴𝐶𝑇𝐸𝑅𝑆

𝑃𝐸𝐷𝑅𝑂 𝑃𝐴𝑆𝐶𝐴𝐿 𝐶𝐻𝐴𝑅𝐴𝐶𝑇𝐸𝑅𝑆

𝑇𝑂𝑀 𝐻𝑂𝐿𝐿𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐶𝐻𝐴𝑅𝐴𝐶𝑇𝐸𝑅𝑆

𝑂𝑈𝑇𝐸𝑅 𝐵𝐴𝑁𝐾𝑆

𝑇𝑂𝑃 𝐺𝑈𝑁: 𝑀𝐴𝑉𝐸𝑅𝐼𝐶𝐾

𝑂𝑈𝑇𝐸𝑅 𝑅𝐴𝑁𝐺𝐸

𝐶𝐻𝐼𝐿𝐿𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝐴𝐷𝑉𝐸𝑁𝑇𝑈𝑅𝐸𝑆 𝑂𝐹 𝑆𝐴𝐵𝑅𝐼𝑁𝐴

[goldfades]

★ IT'S LIKE YOUR EYES ARE LIQUOR, IT'S LIKE YOUR BODY IS GOLD ─── PB⁵ (part 2/2)

౨ৎ ─ summary | this is part two, brother's best friend trope! bryce and paige had been best friends since they were kids, and she's never really been close to his little sister, y/n until she transfers to uconn after a tumultuous freshman year. part one!!!!!!

─ warnings | absolutely nothing but sweet fluff! bryce/paige/reader moment, soft moments and asking out r in a public way. pretty short but i couldn't think of anything

─ ev's notes | the long awaited part 2 to my fic! idk this is just how i imagined paige would ask out reader, because yes i am a slut for some pdaaaa. i don't know if this is accurate by any means LMAO, i just thought of a senior night and was like, yup this is the one. i read a fic similar to this a while ago, idk who wrote it but if anyone knows yall can tag them in the comments! but yeah, that's pretty much it, enjoy!!!

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THE GYM WAS PACKED to the rafters, a sea of blue and white as fans, friends, and family gathered to celebrate UConn's senior night.

The atmosphere buzzed with excitement and anticipation, the air thick with emotion. Paige looked out over the crowd, her heart pounding with a mix of nerves and excitement. This night was special, not just because she was a senior, but because of how much she'd overcome.

As the ceremony began, Paige took a deep breath and stepped up to the podium. She felt a surge of pride as she looked out at her teammates, the coaches, and the fans who had supported her through thick and thin. Her gaze found yours in the crowd, and she felt a wave of calm wash over her.

You and Bryce were both sitting in the front row, proudly wearing her jersey. Bryce gave her an encouraging nod, while you smiled warmly, your eyes filled with admiration and love.

“Good evening, everyone,” Paige began, her voice steady and clear despite the nervousness in her stomach. “Tonight is a night of celebration and reflection. For the seniors, it marks the end of an incredible journey here at UConn. And for uh, for me, it’s a moment to reflect on the past and look forward to the future.”

The crowd fell silent, hanging on her every word. Paige took another deep breath, gathering her thoughts as she glanced down at the typed-up speech.

“As many of you know, I suffered an ACL injury last year. It was one of the toughest challenges I’ve ever faced, both physically and mentally. There were days when I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be able to play at the level I wanted again. But through the support of my amazing teammates, coaches, and staff, I’ve been able to come back stronger than ever.”

A ripple of applause spread through the gym, and Paige smiled, her heart swelling with gratitude as she glanced toward her team and Coach Geno.

“This injury taught me a lot about resilience, determination, and the power of believing in yourself. It reminded me that even in our darkest moments, we can find the strength to rise again. And because of that, I’m thrilled to announce that I will be returning next year to continue playing basketball for UConn!”

The gym erupted into cheers and applause, the noise echoing off the walls. Paige felt a surge of emotion, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She waited for the crowd to settle before continuing, her eyes finding yours with a smile.

“Tonight, though, is not just about basketball. It’s about the incredible journey we’ve all been on together, the memories we’ve made, and the relationships that have shaped us. And uh, there’s one person here tonight who has been a huge part of my journey, someone who has been there for me through a lot, someone who means the world to me.”

Her eyes found yours again, and she felt a rush of warmth and affection.

“Y/N,” Paige called out, her voice filled with emotion. “Could you uh, come up here for a moment?”

Your heart began to race as you looked up nervously at Bryce, who gave you an amused look. The crowd murmured with curiosity as you made your way through the throng of people, your heart pounding with anticipation. Bryce gave you a reassuring pat on the back as you stood, making your way up to the stage where Paige was waiting.

Paige took your hand as you reached the podium, her touch steady and reassuring. The gym fell silent, all eyes on the two of you.

“You’ve been my rock, my biggest supporter, and my best friend. Even though we weren't close until this year,” Paige said, her voice trembling with emotion. “I couldn't imagine going life without you by my side and I feel like I've been close with you forever. And I want to make this official.”

You could feel the nervousness radiating off of her, her hand feeling a little warm as your smile grew. “Will you be my girlfriend?” Paige asked, her eyes shining with hope.

Tears filled your eyes as you nodded, your heart bursting with happiness. “Of course, P,” you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. “I’d love to be your girlfriend.”

Paige immediately pulled you into a tight embrace as the gym erupted into cheers once more. As she hugged you, the world around you fading away as you held each other. When you finally pulled back, Paige leaned in and kissed your cheek, the cheers and applause of the crowd washing over you like a wave.

She turned to the crowd and her eyes found Bryce's, excitement on his face as he shouted, "That's my girl!"

You scoffed dramatically as Paige blew him a kiss, causing the crowd to burst into laughter. Bryce grinned widely, giving Paige a thumbs-up. The energy in the gym was electric, filled with joy and celebration.

The rest of the evening was a whirlwind of congratulations and celebration. People came up to you both, offering their best wishes and sharing their excitement. Paige's teammates embraced you, welcoming you into their tight-knit circle with open arms.

As the evening wore on, you joined the rest of the team and their families, sharing stories, laughter, and more than a few happy tears. Bryce hovered protectively, making sure you were both taken care of and enjoying the night.

Eventually, the reception wound down, and it was time to head home. Paige insisted on walking you back to your dorm, her arm wrapped around your shoulders as you strolled through the campus. The night air was cool and refreshing, the stars twinkling above like tiny diamonds.

──

"Personally, I really liked the speech. Other than the whole calling her your best friend," Bryce explained as he bit into the pizza. "Cause I am, y'know. I had to yell after that so everyone knows I'm your boy,"

You rolled your eyes, glaring at your brother. "I knew somehow you'd find a way to make that night about you,"

Bryce sent you a glare as Paige laughed, putting a hand on your thigh. The warmth of her touch sent a jolt of comfort through you, grounding you amidst the playful banter.

"Come on, Y/N," Bryce said with mock offense. "Can't a guy enjoy a little recognition once in a while?"

"You did get your own recognition, at your own senior night." You rebutted as he sent you a dirty look, finishing his pizza.

Paige chuckled, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze. "Don't mind him. He's just jealous because he didn't get a shout-out in my speech."

"Come on, guys," Bryce replied with mock indignation, gesturing with his pizza slice. "I'm just making sure my homegirl doesn't forget who's been her biggest fan all along."

Paige grinned mischievously, leaning back in her chair. "Oh, don't worry, Bryce. You're definitely unforgettable."

You and Paige exchanged glances as Bryce nodded, his ego practically radiating off of him. As you reached for another slice of pizza, Bryce's expression turned serious for a moment.

"But seriously, though," he began, his gaze shifting between you and Paige. "I'm really happy for you two."

Paige nodded, her smile softening. "Thanks, Brycey. Your support means a lot to both of us."

"Yeah, I mean, you've been through so much, P," Bryce continued, his tone earnest. "And Y/N, I've seen how happy you've been since you two got together. It's... it's good."

You felt a swell of gratitude toward your brother. Despite his teasing and occasional grumpiness, Bryce had always been there for you both, offering unwavering support.

"Aww, Brycey." Paige pouted as she leaned over the table to ruffle his hair, earning a laugh from you. "You're the best,"

Bryce cleared his throat, suddenly self-conscious under the weight of your appreciation. "Alright, alright," he muttered, trying to lighten the mood. "Enough of the sappy stuff. Let's just enjoy the pizza before it gets cold."

You chuckled, knowing Bryce's penchant for deflecting emotional moments. As you continued to eat and chat, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment settle over you. The bond between you and Paige, strengthened by Bryce's acceptance and support, felt more solid than ever.

After finishing up, Bryce insisted on paying for the meal, despite Paige's protests. As you all headed out of the resturant, the cool night air felt refreshing against your skin. Walking side by side with Paige and Bryce, you felt a sense of contentment and excitement for the evening ahead.

Paige slipped her hand into yours as you walked, her fingers intertwining with yours. You exchanged a smile, both of you looking forward to the simple pleasures of being in each other's company.

As you approached Paige's apartment building, Bryce gave you both a playful salute. "Enjoy your movie night, lovebirds. And don't stay up too late. Oh and, tomorrow's my day with Paige."

"I know, we're playing Fort all night," Paige promised with a grin. "Thanks for dinner,"

"Anytime," Bryce replied with a wink before heading off into the night.

With Bryce gone, you and Paige entered her apartment, the familiar surroundings feeling cozy and inviting. She led you to the living room, you both got on the couch with a sigh, the pizza feeling heavy in your stomach.

Settling onto the couch together, Paige draped an arm around you as she turned on the TV, skimming through Netflix. Once she found a good movie, she leaned back as you both settled in for the evening. The soft glow of the TV illuminated the room as Paige nestled closer to you, her warmth and presence comforting after a long day filled with excitement and emotion.

"You comfortable?" Paige asked softly, her fingers gently tracing patterns on your arm.

You nodded, a contented smile on your face. "Yeah, very."

Paige smiled back, her eyes reflecting the flickering light of the screen. "Good."

Halfway through the movie, Paige leaned her head against your shoulder, her fingers idly tracing patterns on your thigh. You smiled softly, relishing the intimacy and closeness between you. This was exactly where you wanted to be ─ with Paige, enjoying each other's company in the quiet comfort of her home.

As the movie approached its end, you turned to Paige, catching her gaze. "Thank you for tonight," you murmured, your voice filled with affection.

She smiled warmly. "No, thank you. For everything."

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. It was a tender, unhurried kiss, conveying all the emotions and gratitude you felt in that moment. Paige responded with equal tenderness, her arms wrapping around you as you deepened the kiss, savoring the closeness between you.

After a while, you both pulled back slightly, resting your foreheads together. Paige's hand found yours again, her fingers lacing with yours as you sat in comfortable silence, the movie soundtrack playing softly in the background.

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[daydreaming-nerd]

Shadows and Sins (Ruhn Danaan x Reader)

Takes place pre HOFAS

My masterlist

A/N: I’ve been sitting on this for so long and guess what I GAVE HIM A BIKE HAHA biketok girls we ride at dawn. 

Summary: All is fair in love and war… (enemies to lovers inspired by House of Balloons by The Weeknd) 

Warnings: SA, intoxication, banter

Word count: 3981

Prince, starborn, bad boy, party animal, loose cannon and playboy, those were the words typically used to describe Ruhn Danaan. 

Asshole, spoiled brat, antagonizing, vexing and unfortunately handsome…those were the words I used to describe my best friend's brother.

Ruhn came into my life about a year ago when I started working at the archives with his younger sister Bryce, who I became friends with almost instantly. He came in one day demanding to speak to Bryce and since I thought he was just some lovesick guy like all the others who came panting after the redhead I promptly told him off. It wasn’t until 30 minutes of fighting back and forth that Bryce returned from lunch with Hunt that I found out I was wrong, and the prince never let me live it down. 

Since then, we were like oil and water, order and chaos, and love and war. Though I suppose all was fair when it came to that. 

We fought whenever we saw one another, which was often since him and Bryce had become reacquainted. At first she hated our squabbling, but with Athalar’s calming presence in her life she had grown to use it as free entertainment. So when the bell over the door to archives rang and her laugh echoed subsequently I knew I was in for a fight… 

“Brought your wallet,” called the voice I dreaded to hear. “You gotta stop leaving it at my place.”

“Thanks Ruhn,” Bryce chirped, confirming the worst. 

Sure enough I turned around to find Ruhn Danaan waltzing in like he owned the place, which I sure he could if he wanted to, he was a prince after all not that you could ever tell. In all the fairytales I had read as a little girl the prince’s always wore fine tunics and rode on white horses. But Ruhn opted for a black t-shirt and a speed bike and unfortunately if he had been anyone but who he is I would’ve found that incredibly hot.

“I still don’t know why you insist upon hanging out with the rabble,” Ruhn said to Bryce leaning his forearms against the countertop. 

Bryce shoots her brother a look that begs him to behave himself for once in his life, and part of me thought I should be the bigger person and not fight back. But I wasn’t a bigger person-I was a petty bitch, and I’ll be damned if I let Ruhn Danaan come into my place of employment and talk smack to me. 

“It’s probably because she needs at least one acquaintance who doesn’t need someone to wipe his ass for him,” I said with a fake smile, continuing to polish the silver chalice in my hand.

Bryce snorts as she shoves her wallet into her purse. Both of us turn to her to find her trying to hide her giggle at my comment. 

I cross my arms over my chest giving Ruhn a self satisfied look and as usual he won’t let me win that easily. 

“Funny you should mention it. I've been looking for someone else who would wipe it for me. Interested? I’m sure you’d love the view,” he smirks that godsdammned lip ring making an appearance. 

“One of these days I’m going to rip that ring right out of your lip,” I growl bracing my arms on the counter like I might do it right now. 

“Oh the women of Crescent City would weep at the loss of my beloved lip ring, they do so love when it grazes their-” 

“That’s enough!” Bryce shouts pushing Ruhn towards the door. “I do not want to hear about your bedroom activities!” 

“Same here I just ate lunch!” I shout from behind the desk. 

“Please, you're begging for more images of me to get off to!” Ruhn shouts from the threshold of the door as Bryce continues to push him. 

“If I wanted to see mediocre fucking I’m sure there’s a website for it!” I holler as Bryce closes the door. 

I smirk and waggle my fingers at him as he bangs on the door. Once again I got the last word and oh boy did it feel good. 

Bryce didn’t walk away from the door until the revving of Ruhn’s bike could be heard taking off down the road. She turned to me with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. My lip twitched up in amusement and her scorned look broke as both of us roared with laughter.

“Okay I have to admit the ass wiping bit was pretty good,” she chortled, coming around to help me polish again. 

“You like that one? I’ve been saving it.” I laugh remembering the look on his face when his own sister laughed at him. 

“I still hate that you two fight, but at least it’s like getting my own comedy show now,” she shakes her head. 

We finish our polishing in peace, talking over last night's episode of Fangs and Bangs, and our raucous plans for tonight. It was friday, which meant girls night was happening at The White Raven. It was honestly my favorite day of the week, I looked forward to it more than I cared to admit. Society called us vicious party girls, but how bad were we really? 

“So I’ll meet you there at 10?” Bryce asks, locking up the shop. 

“Yeah what are you wearing though?” I ask rummaging through my bag for the key to the lock on my scooter.

“I was going to wear that red silk dress, you know the one Hunt tried to tear off me,” she smirks, wiggling her eyebrows. 

“Ooo someones playing dirty trying to get laid tonight,” I muse, if Bryce did one thing well it was ruffle Hunt’s feathers everytime he had to pick her up after a girls night. 

“Like I even have to try that hard anymore,” she laughs tucking the keys into her bag. 

“Oh how I wish I had a man to carry me home from the bar and dick me down afterwards,” I sigh with fake longing, though we both know I was telling the truth.

“Prince Charming is out there and who knows you might meet him tonight,” she smiles as she begins to walk towards her apartment. “Wear the black and silver dress!” she calls back. 

I shake my head and continue walking towards the other side of town. I hadn’t planned to wear the black and silver dress tonight but Bryce was never wrong about fashion, so black and silver it was. 

The White Raven was alive and bouncing per usual. Couples coupling in dark corners, some drunk girls grinding on each other wearing bachelorette tiaras, men shouting at their friends to finish their beers. Among those rowdy men, Ruhn Danaan. 

He had kindly greeted Bryce and unkindly greeted me when he first arrived. Bryce promptly shooed him off letting him know that it was girls night and he said he’d rather chew glass than stick around. While he was across the bar it didn’t help with the awareness that he was there. 

Normally girls nights were carefree, Bryce and I might end up dancing on a bartop and of course they would call the Umbra Mortis to haul us over his shoulders. Sometimes we would kick Hunt out his own bed and force him to sleep on the couch so us girls could have a “sleep over”. 

Tonight was different. The last thing I needed was to commit some atrocious behavior that Ruhn could put in his arsenal of insults. I could already hear him jesting about how I made out with a lion shifter or fell over on the dancefloor. So Bryce and I stuck to sitting at the bar, sipping our drinks and talking shit like sophisticated women.  

Two drinks turned to four, and four turned to six. The colorful lights only made my head spin faster as I downed the rest of my drink. I looked to my right to find Bryce’s nearly untouched. Athalar had showed up about ten minutes ago after our bartender told him we were approaching being cut off. Of course the moment Bryce saw him all bet were off… she now stood with her tongue down his throat and he didn’t seem inclined to protest. Turns out she was right about that red dress. 

I roll my eyes and grab her martini and down it slamming it back on the bartop, not like she was going to need it.

“Bryce I’m heading out,” I say, putting my hand on her shoulder. 

She gave me a thumbs up as Hunt moved from her lips to her neck. I just shook my head and grabbed my purse. It wasn’t uncommon for me to go home alone, she had my location and we always kept tabs on one another.

The second I stood on my feet all the alcohol rushed to my head, and I had to close my eyes and take a deep breath to steady myself. I looked at my barstool and thought about sobering up, but the last thing I wanted to see was the mate makeout session, so I shook my head to try and clear my mind and sauntered out towards the door. 

The night air did little to sober me up, and my stilettos didn’t help with the wobbling. I pulled out my phone to try and find a ride home, but when the rideshare app quoted me $100 to go two miles I shoved my phone back in my purse with a huff and started walking towards my apartment. Like hell I was paying that for two miles.

My heels clicked on the pavement, echoing off the alley walls. Suddenly another pair of shoes echoed off the walls as well, not light and feminine steps, big clunky shoes. 

“Where are you going darling?” crooned a voice I didn’t recognize. 

I tried my best to pick up the pace, but the nature of my delicate shoes did little to give me any sort of advantage. My hands fumble with my purse trying to pull out the pepper spray Hunt got me for my birthday last year but those last two drinks were starting to catch up with me and my world was spinning. 

I feel a pair of hands grab my shoulders and slam me against the wall of the White Raven. My purse falls to the ground and I’m met with a pair of brown eyes. The guy had a backwards sunball hat and a blue shirt and he reeked of liquor. 

“Come on baby it’s not safe for pretty things like you to be out here,” he slurred, his body pressing closer to me. 

I cringe at the smell of his breath, “Get off of me creep!” I shout hoping that the alley isn’t that empty. 

My hands try to push him off but my intoxicated nature doesn't allow for much dexterity on my part.  

“Oh come on sweetheart don’t be that way,” he mumbled drunkenly, attaching his mouth to my neck. 

I try to push him off once more but I wobble, uneasy on my shoes. His hands fall from the small of my waist to the hem of my dress and I feel my blood run ice cold. 

“NO!” I shout scrumbling to get the sleeze off me. 

A hand grabs the back of the males collar and the sound of a fit making contact with his jaw reverberates through the alley as the male hits the ground. I stand shocked with my hands over my mouth as Ruhn Danaan shakes out the hand that delivered the punch and kicks the limp male. 

“You okay?” he asks nonchalantly, giving me a once over. 

I stand there still too stunned to speak, my eyes wandering from the male on the ground to Ruhn standing there with that damned black t-shirt clinging to his torso. 

He bends down to pick up my purse and shoves it into my arms. The gesture that finally breaks me out of shock. 

“T-thank you,” I mutter, still a little slow. 

“Where’s Bryce?” he asks looking around the alley, the sound of the club music inside still booming. 

I push myself off the wall stumbling a bit, “Inside sucking face with Athalar,” I slurr. 

“Thanks for the visual,” Ruhn purses his lips.

I straighten myself up and take a deep breath trying to act as sober as possible which probably was making me seem even more drunk, but I had to at least try. 

“Well thank you for uh…that,” I say gesturing towards the man still unconscious on the pavement. “I’ll see you around I guess.” 

I start wobbling down the alleyway once more, blinking my eyes rapidly to get my mind to clear and focus on walking home. 

“Where the hell do you think you’re going princess?” he croons. 

Princess. Gods that fucking nickname. Most people would use it as a compliment or a pet name, but Ruhn knew how it drove me insane. He claimed I was just a spoiled princess one time and when I freaked out and yelled at him about it he proceeded to make that his nickname for me.

“I’m going home,” I sneer, trying to walk as best I can. 

“Like hell you’re walking home alone,” he growls, gripping my arm.

My eyes fly too the tattooed hand on my arm, and then up to those violet blue eyes that sparked with rage. 

“I do it all the time I’m fine,” I growl trying to rip my arm out of his grasp but I only succeed in making myself stumble more. 

He steadies me before speaking again, “Stop I’ll give you a ride,” he says motioning to his blacked out R1 parked in the alley. 

“I am not getting on that death trap with you after you’ve been drinking,” I scoff. 

“I’m not drunk, I don’t get drunk in public, it’s bad for appearances,” he says, irritation flitting across his unfairly handsome features. 

“Then how do I know you’re not going to dump me into Istros?” I sneer and the muscle in his jaw ticks and I can tell it’s taking everything in him not to fire back at me. 

“Because Bryce and I are finally on good terms and I’m pretty sure she would never forgive me if something happened to her best friend,” he explained, his words cold as ice. 

Maybe I was stupid, maybe I was drunk, maybe I was just cold and wanted to go home, but I actually believed him.

“Fine, let's go,” I say, walking towards his bike. 

I had to admit I always wanted to ride a motorcycle. Now riding on the back of Ruhn’s while I was drunk wasn’t exactly the time I wanted to do it, but I suppose beggars couldn’t be choosers. The bike was large and completely blacked out, if the moon hadn’t illuminated it just right I wouldn’t have been able to see it. 

Ruhn approaches the bike and starts the engine, every movement is like second nature to him. He takes the helmet off the seat and goes to put it on himself but then stops, turns to me, and punks it down on my head. The darkness of the visor mixed with the late hour making it impossible to see. I huff and flip it up, giving him a pointed glare. 

“I don’t have both helmets so this will have to do,” he says studying the way it fits me a little big. 

Tattooed fingers brush under my chin, tilting it up so he can buckle the strap for me. I would protest and say I’m capable of doing it myself but in my drunken state I’m not so sure. When he clips the buckle it pinches my skin for a moment and I yip.

“Ouch you pinched me!” I yelp smacking him in the arm. 

“Well if you stopped squirming I wouldn’t have pinched you,” he smirks, throwing his leg over the bike. “Now swing your leg over the bike and put your feet on these pegs,” he instructs me. 

I do as I’m told, using his broad shoulders as support as standing on one leg, drunk, in stilettos was never a good idea. Once I’m seated I keep my hands on his shoulders lightly and my bum on the edge of the seat, putting as much distance away from each other as possible. 

“You gotta hold on or you’ll fall off sweetheart,” he laughs, somehow finding humor in the precarious situation we’re in. 

“Yeah fucking right, like I’m going to wrap my arms around you like a little lovesick puppy,” I huff. “Just drive.” 

He shakes his head and revs the engine making the bike jerk forward. The momentum has my bum moving further into the seat and my arms instinctively wrapping around his middle, like I was afraid to fall off.

“There we go much better,” he smirks before revving the engine a couple of times. “Hold on tight princess.” 

I’m not given another warning before he speeds out onto the streets. Thankfully there aren’t a lot of cars and people out this late at night, but it doesn’t stop the crown prince from weaving around traffic that is there. He goes so fast I feel compelled to hold onto him with a deathgrip. 

By the time we pull up to my apartment my stomach is queasy. I swing my leg off the bike and nearly fall over until Ruhn catches my arms and hauls me up. 

“Woah there princess, maybe we better keep the helmet on, you’re a walking liability.” he laughs clearly enjoying seeing me in a vulnerable moment. 

“Take it off,” I grumble as I stand up straight again. 

He repeats the motion from earlier, tilting up my chin to help me take the damned thing off instead this time he ruffles my hair when he’s done. 

“You did pretty good for your first time as a backpack,” he smirks as I glare at him. 

I go to walk up my front steps and slip on my damned heels again, the ones that were definitely going to the back of the closet after this outing. Arm wraps under my shoulders and I feel Ruhn helping me up the steps to my second floor apartment. 

“You don’t have to do that, I can make it,” I grumble. 

“Trying to stay in Bryce’s good graces remember,” he says as I fumble with my keys.

My apartment wasn’t the nicest. It wasn’t a dump by any means, I did my best to keep it homey and clean, but it also wasn’t as nice as Bryce’s. Well I suppose Bryce and Hunt’s apartment now. God she was definitely having a better night than me. 

I walk inside and go to close the door but that damned tattooed hand stops me. 

“Not going to invite me in? That’s not very friendly,” Ruhn tuts walking right past me.

I scoff at him, walking in like he owns the place. Part of me wants to drag him out by his ear, but the logical part of me bends over to get myself out of these death trap shoes. I throw them across the room as punishment for their crimes tonight. 

When I walk further into my apartment I find Ruhn has completely made himself at home by grabbing a beer out of my refrigerator and cracking it open. 

“Are you serious?” I scoff walking to the sink across from him and getting myself a glass of water. 

“Consider it payment for the free ride home, I’ll take my thanks at any time you know?” he says smugly, taking another sip.

“Thank you for the ride,” I sigh. “Now will you please go?” 

He furrows his brows, “And waste a freshly opened beer? I don’t think so.” he says. 

I lean against the counter adjacent to him and sip my water. I can’t help but roll my eyes at the male. This was just like Ruhn, finding simple ways to get under my skin. I hated the fact that I liked the way he looked in my kitchen, black t-shirt in jeans, hair tied to the nape of his neck. 

Ruhn’s eyes flicker with amusement and then he chuckles, “I really do get under that delicate skin of yours don’t I princess?” he croons. 

“I told you. Don’t. Call. Me. Princess.” I snap at him, oh god if looks could kill. 

He pushes himself off  the counter, “Then stop fucking acting like one,”  he says low prowling forward with every step. 

The closer he gets the taller he looms. I know this little scare tactic, him trying to invade my space and make me feel small. It’s not like I have much of a choice either, not with the way my back is pressed into the counter. 

I can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or the expensive cologne pouring off him but there’s something about the way he’s looking at me that is so damn arousing. A fucked up part of me wanted him to stick his tongue down my throat but I quickly threw that thought away. 

He was mere inches away from me when I started to think he would do just that. My pulse raced and my thighs clenched. But when his arm reached up brushing the shell of my ear it just kept reaching until it came to the top shelf of my cabinets and plucked the bag of chips off the shelf. 

My shoulders sag as I realize he was just reaching for a snack to go with his beer, and I mentally cursed myself for hoping it would be more. 

He chuckles, opening the bag of chips and popping one into his mouth, not moving from where he stood just inches away from me. He clearly was loving this little power trip he was on. 

“You look disappointed, princess,” he chuckles, fishing another chip from the bag. 

I roll my eyes and look to the side, unable to meet the predatory gaze that almost had me throwing my moral code out the window just minutes ago. 

His hand drifts under my chin pulling my gaze to his as he takes a step forward again. 

“Did you think I was going to kiss you?” he asks low, his thumb and forefinger pinching my chin so I can’t look away. 

I swallow the lump in my throat. My logic screams to shove him, my alcohol induced brain says to kiss him and my mouth can’t find the words to speak. 

Ruhn smiles, lowering his head to me, “Maybe I should kiss you, it would be good to shut you up,” he laughs, voice gravely. 

His lips are so close to mine I can feel the warmth of his breath, I swear the cool metal of that damn lip ring brushes my mouth. My body leans forward of its own accord but then he reaches his other hand up and pops another chip in his mouth thoroughly running the moment.

“No I don’t think I will kiss you, even though it’s clear that you want me to,” he smiles, that damn knee wobbling smile he gives every woman to bring them to their knees. 

I stand in a state of shock as he back up to his side of the kitchen again, he plucks his keys off the counter and twirls them in his hand as he walks towards the front door. 

“Have a good night, princess,” he says on the way out, putting an emphasis on the name that drives me crazy. 

I’m left standing alone in my kitchen, glass of water long since forgotten and mouth agape. Ruhn Danaan almost just kissed me, and the fucked up part of it was I wanted him to.

part 2 coming... Lmk if you want to be on the taglist for this little mini series.

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