#ruhn fic

[danikamariewrites]

Loved your Azriel work! Could you maybe do a sleepy reader x Ruhn?

Party Naps

Ruhn x reader

Notes: thank you anon! Btw I’m so sorry I haven’t been super active but I’m going to try to post more.

Warnings: none

You don’t know what was wrong with you today. Ever since you woke up all you could think about was going back to bed.

Sitting at your desk the only way you got through the work day was thinking about being wrapped up in Ruhn’s arms again. How warm his body is and his fingers running through your hair. You found yourself shaking your head and blinking furiously to stay awake.

Instead of coming home to a calm quiet house you found Ruhn and the boys setting up. You forgot Friday night was party night. You mentally groaned, hopefully loud enough for Ruhn to hear.

Trudging upstairs without saying hello you make your way to your and Ruhn’s bedroom. Collapsing on the bed you feel the exhaustion leave your body. You give up on trying to close your eyes and roll out of bed to get ready for the party. Not like you could sleep through the noise anyway. Not without Ruhn.

Four agonizing hours. People talking, dancing, drinking, and taking your boyfriend’s attention from you. You were beyond agitated. And being agitated and tired is not a good mix for you.

Ruhn gently takes your hand, pulling you over to the couch. You snuggle into his side as he wraps a comforting arm around your shoulder. Resting your head on Ruhn’s shoulder your eyelids become heavy, finally closing after being forced open all day.

“Tired, love?” He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Mmhh,” you nod, snuggling further into his warm body. “Why didn’t you say something?” Ruhn asks with a sweet laugh that’s like music to your ears, a sweet lullaby in this instance.

“Been exhausted all day. Just wanted you.” You mumble. Ruhn pulls you into his lap, resting your head in the crook of his neck. You inhale his familiar soothing scent. Ruhn’s fingers come to gently run through your hair. You feel yourself drifting off. The music and chatter of everyone in the house fading away now that you’re in Ruhn’s arms.

Ruhn smiles at you. “Sleep, my love. I got you,” he whispers, pressing another kiss to your head. You fall asleep with a smile on your face, safe in your mates arms.

[starryevermore]

my friends call me a loser (dumb love 2) ✧ ruhn danaan

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

pairing: ruhn danaan x fem!reader 

summary: ruhn wanted forever with you, but he got in his head and fucked it all up. 

word count: 1,882

warnings?: angst city bitch, not proofread

PART ONE

Ruhn Danaan was, in a word, a massive fucking idiot, and Bryce had made it her mission to never let him forget it. 

“What the hell do you mean that you said it was casual between you two?!” she shouted when she found out. Ruhn had holed himself up in his room, blowing through his supply of mirthroot in a vain attempt to dull the pain. But Bryce wasn’t going to let him be miserable without giving him a piece of her mind. “She fucking adored you, and I thought you did too! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

All Ruhn could manage was another long drag of his joint. Bryce snatched it out of his hands and set it in the ashtray on his nightstand. The most Ruhn could manage for a reaction was a groan and a half-assed attempt to snatch it back from her. 

“Seriously Ruhn, what the fuck!?”

He shrugged. Honestly, he wasn’t sure why he did it. All Ruhn had to say was “fuck off” or, even better, that he truly liked you and he was fucking terrified of that, but all he could think to say was that it meant nothing even when it meant everything. Worse, he tried to prove to himself that he wasn’t emotionally attached to you. 

It failed miserably, if anyone was wondering. When he sauntered up to the faun across the bar, all of his usual lines lacked any luster. They didn’t feel right when it wasn’t you he was saying them to. And when the faun suggested they go to her place, Ruhn was already searching for any way to get out of it. He was relieved when he saw Bryce and Hunt making their way to the bar, and he excused himself with hardly a word to the faun. 

Ruhn had been delighted to hear that Bryce and Hunt had ran into you, and for Declan to confirm he saw you. He was ready to go find you, to finally have a nice evening. When Hunt said that you were actually on your way out, Ruhn couldn’t help but feel disappointed. And then a worse thought struck him—what if you had seen him with the faun? No, surely not. You weren’t the most confrontational person he knew, but you weren’t the type of person to stand for that sort of disrespect. If you had seen him, you would have said something. Besides, Bryce didn’t say anything that would indicate you were upset. Declan was oddly silent, but he also didn’t speak to you. Everything was fine. He hoped. 

Yet when he went home, earlier than everyone else because he was most certainly not having a good time, he was surprised to find his room noticeably empty of anything belonging to you. The only thing that remained was your faintly fresh scent—like you had just been there. When he asked Flynn, he wanted to wring his friend’s neck for letting you walk off like that. Yes, you had seemed fine. Yes, you had been joking around with him. But no one, no one, ever just packed up all of their stuff and everything be a-okay. 

Ruhn didn’t want to think about how many traffic violations he committed as he sped over to your apartment. All that he could focus on was seeing you, on hearing your voice, on making sure everything was still good. He never felt like a bigger idiot than when you forced him out, told him to lose your number, and cried on the other side of the door. Ruhn wasn’t sure how long he stood there, waiting for you to come out and say this was all a big joke or something, but he was gone before the sun came up. 

Bryce’s hand balled up into a fist. “Fucking say something!” she snapped. 

He wished she would just hit him and get it over with. 

“Told you he’s like a ghost,” Declan said from the door, leaning against the threshold, arms crossed over his chest. 

“Let him fucking rot,” Bryce said and stormed out. Declan followed, shutting the door behind him. 

Ruhn picked the joint back up, shut his eyes, and pretended that you were lying beside him still. 

Ruhn stood outside of the bookstore you worked at. He had no reason to be there. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever picked up a book. But you were inside, and he needed to see you just once. Needed to know that you were okay. Or, at least, as okay as you could be. Besides, it was almost the end of your shift, and someone should make sure you got home safe. 

He hadn’t been around the store much before. Only really knew where it was because he picked you up there once before taking you to dinner with Bryce and Hunt. A double date, Bryce had insisted on it. She wanted to know what poor sucker had him so smitten. When Ruhn saw how well you meshed in with his life, it made him want to run for the hills and it made him want to ask you to marry him on the spot. You made his head spin. Ruhn was never sure how to make heads or tails of anything when you were involved. 

And then you were coming around more often. You met Declan and Flynn. You went to their parties, outdrank all of them with ridiculous ease. It felt like you were always meant to be there. Like there was a hole in his life that he hadn’t realized existed until you were making him feel whole again. 

Maybe that was what scared him. Ruhn wasn’t used to this kind of unfiltered, pure love. He never had a real relationship before. Any he had before were for the sole purpose of pissing his father off. He never cared about them, not really. But you? You made him feel the warm fuzzies the people in those shitty romance novels feel. When a person is unused to that sort of thing, it’s easy to feel ill about it. It was even easier to ruin it all before he got hurt. 

He watched you through the window, chatting with a customer. You’ve been talking to them a while, actually. They’re a shifter he’s seen around before. Ruhn doesn’t know much, but he doesn’t like the way they’re leaning in across the counter, laughing at everything you say. What do they know about your jokes? They probably don’t even understand the jokes. What a fucking poser. 

But then you’re touching their arm as you walk around the counter. They’re helping you with closing the store. Their hand is on the small of your back as you twist the key in the lock. Ruhn felt sick as you climbed in their car and sped down the road.

He vomited in a nearby trash can. He wiped the back of his hand against his mouth and stumbled to the White Raven. Ordered shot after shot after shot, trying to burn that image out of his mind. 

The bartender had to call Declan and Flynn to get him out. 

It was months before Ruhn was able to not drink himself half to death—which, for a fae, is an alarming amount of alcohol. He should count himself lucky that fae have higher healing abilities, or else his poor liver would be wrecked beyond repair. Hel, he would probably still be at home if it weren’t for everyone giving him shit for it. Let him rot, they said, but when he tried, it was suddenly a fucking problem.  It was well-meaning, he thinks, but still. It’s the principal of the thing. 

Still, he frequented the White Raven somehow more than he ever did before. Sometimes he would catch glimpses of you with that stupid shifter. Sometimes he would drink just enough that he could delude himself into thinking you were sitting beside him, tracing your fingernail along the swirls of his tattoos, head leaned against his shoulder. One of his friends would drag him away before he could fall too deep into the fantasy. 

None of them were here tonight, though. So there was no one to stop him from ordering more shots than he should as he watched you dance with that damned shifter. 

Ruhn would never wish you unhappiness, but…Was it a bad thing to wish that you didn’t move on so fast? An uncomfortable feeling settled in his gut. What right did he have to be upset? The only reason you were with that shifter was because he fucked everything up. If Ruhn had just kept his godsdamned mouth shut, it could have been him you were dancing with right now. But no, he just had to shove his whole foot into his mouth. 

The song ended and faded into another. You pulled away from the shifter, heading in the direction of the restrooms. The shifter slid up to the bar, eying Ruhn, before directing his attention to the bartender and ordered a couple drinks. What an idiot. They couldn’t even order your favorite drink. What did you see in them? 

He had no right to think little of the shifter, though. He gave that up. And yet, he couldn’t stop himself from grabbing their attention. “Be good to her,” Ruhn said, nodding in the direction you had gone. 

The shifter raised a brow. “You a friend or something?”

“Or something,” Ruhn said. “She has a good heart. Don’t break it.”

They shrugged, taking a long sip of their drink. “Eh, don’t see it getting far enough to break hearts.”

Ruhn’s heart stopped. No. It wasn’t cool when he did it—this asshole was not allowed to do the same thing to you. “Excuse me?”

“It’s nothing serious, you know? Just testing the waters.”

Ruhn’s fist swung before he could stop it. The crack of the shifter’s jaw was satisfying enough that he landed a few more punches in before they started fighting back. Ruhn was knocked into the bar, but he didn’t let that stop him. He charged at the shifter, knocked him to the ground. He blacked out from the rage—only became aware when a couple bouncers pulled him off the shifter and dragged him a few feet away. 

He shook them off. “Yeah, yeah. I’m going,” he growled. 

The bouncers followed him as he pushed through the crowd that formed. But he couldn’t stop himself from stomping the heel of his boot on the shifter’s nose as he passed. The bouncers yanked him away again.

“Oops, didn��t see him there.”

As the bouncers dragged him out, he caught a familiar eye in the crowd. You stared at him, eyes wide and jaw open, horrified at the display of violence before you. The bouncers dragged him straight passed you, and he could very nearly hear what you were going to say. An admonishment for fighting in public, a good tongue lashing for fighting your…whatever that shifter was. 

But he beat you to the punch. “You deserve better than that lowlife,” he said. 

You couldn’t let him have the final word. 

“What, like you know what’s good for me?”

And somehow that hurt more than any hit that piece of shit shifter could land on him. 

[prythiansprincess]

── .✦ RUHN ‧ ₊˚ ⋅

NAVIGATION // inbox. tags. writing. library.

LEGEND

(*) indicates smut.

REQUESTS

sweet like candy. * best friend’s brother.

© prythiansprincess. all works belong to me and should not be reposted in any way or form.

[slytherin-pen]

Size Matters

pairing: Ruhn x Flynn x Ithan x Reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: sexual innuendos galore lmao

a/n: finally adding Crescent City to my masterlist! written for day 3 of @polysjmweek

Movie night was supposed to be relaxing. A nice, quiet evening with your three boyfriends, a ridiculous amount of snacks, and at least one action movie that Ithan would pretend he wasn’t totally invested in.

That was the plan, anyway. But leave it to your boyfriends to take up all the space with none left for you.

You couldn’t blame them entirely, though. After a few years of dating the boys, you had moved into Ruhn’s house with them. A house that was already begging for more space after Ithan moved in, claiming the fourth and final bedroom. That meant you didn’t get your own room but cycled through sleeping with one of the boys each night instead. It worked great for you. You were never alone, and even if one of them had been busy all day, you could still snuggle with them all night to make up for it. It was a perfect situation, except for times like these.

You stared at the sectional couch in front of you. Ruhn had already claimed the left side, his legs stretched out, one arm draped over the back like the prince he was. Ithan had taken the middle, lounging like he wasn’t built like a damn tank, feet propped up on the coffee table. And Flynn was sprawled on the right, legs wide, arms stretched across the cushions like he was trying to take up as much space as possible.

You eyed the tiny open spaces between them, your bottom lip sticking out in a small pout. “You didn’t leave enough room for me.”

Ithan glanced at you and immediately read the situation, shifting slightly—barely enough to make a difference.

“You can fit,” he said, but you weren’t convinced.

Flynn patted his lap. “Or,” he drawled, “You could sit here.”

Ruhn shot him a glare. “You don’t get to hog her tonight, Flynn.”

Flynn feigned offense, gasping and placing a hand over his heart. “I don’t hog her. I just love and appreciate her more than you assholes.”

Ithan shoved him hard enough to make an audible oof.

You sighed dramatically. “Guess I’ll just sit on the floor like some kind of peasant.”

Immediately, three different voices spoke at once.

“Like Hel, you will.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Just sit on me.”

Ruhn rolled his eyes but grabbed your wrist, tugging you onto his lap before you could even argue. You yelped at the sudden movement, but he was warm, solid, and—okay, this wasn’t the worst seat in the world.

Ithan smirked. “Guess that settles it.”

But Flynn took one look at the situation and groaned. “Oh, come on. Ruhn gets lap privileges? That’s favoritism.”

Ruhn smirked. “You snooze, you lose.”

Flynn grumbled, but instead of moving over to make space, he flopped sideways so his head ended up right in your lap, his long legs draped over Ithan.

“There,” he said with a satisfied sigh. “Problem solved.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You just managed to take up even more room.”

Flynn grinned up at you. “But now I’m comfortable, and my lovely girlfriend can play with my hair.”

Ithan looked like he was about to strangle him, but you just laughed as he scooted to the other end of the couch. Ruhn’s arms tightened around your waist, and as the movie finally started, you ran your fingers through Flynn’s hair. Ithan stretched his arm toward you so he could twirl the ends of your hair.

“We need a bigger couch,” you said.

Ruhn craned his neck so he could meet your eyes. “How much bigger can it get? We already have a large couch.”

You hummed, shimmying to burrow deeper into Ruhn’s arms. “We could get a couch meant for the angels. They make them extra wide and long.”

“I know what else is extra wide and long,” Flynn chimed in, his voice slightly muffled by your thighs.

You smacked him in the head at the same time Ithan pinched his leg.

“Ow!”

Ruhn chuckled. “Told you that dirty mouth was going to get you in trouble.”

“As if,” Flynn scoffed. “She loves my dirty mouth, don’t you, babe?”

You blushed furiously, burying your face into Ruhn’s neck. “No comment,” you mumbled.

All three boys laughed.

“A bigger couch isn’t a bad idea,” Ithan said. “But where would we put it?”

You removed your face from Ruhn’s neck to respond. “We move the pool table, and then we’d have plenty of room.”

“Not the pool table,” Ruhn whined.

“Don’t tell me you’d choose a pool table over your girlfriend,” you deadpanned while side-eyeing him.

“Of course not,” he said, his tattooed hand running up and down your side. “But why do I have to choose? If my memory serves me correctly, we’ve had lots of fun on that pool table.”

“Would you stop it with the innuendos?” you said, smacking his chest. “I swear it’s like I live with a bunch of animals. Except you, Ithan. You’re tame.”

Ithan grinned. “Come over here, sweetheart. I’ll protect you from their vulgarity.”

“Don’t you dare,” Ruhn warned, but it was too late.

You crawled out of Ruhn’s lap and across Flynn, who groaned when your knee dug into his stomach. Ithan grabbed you by the hips and placed you across his lap, your back to the arm of the couch.

“That’s better,” Ithan said, placing a kiss on your temple. “No more corrupting our girlfriend.”

“Too late for that,” Flynn laughed. “She was corrupted when we had sex in the—“

You interrupted him with a throw pillow to the face. “Stop it,” you scolded. “You’re embarrassing me.”

“Aw, don’t be embarrassed, baby,” Ruhn said, his tone empathetic. “You’re just so cute when you blush. And you can hardly blame us for looking back on those times fondly. We’re some lucky bastards for finding such a beautiful girl who puts up with our shit.”

“I don’t put up with anything,” you retorted. “I made Flynn clean up his pigsty of a room just two days ago.”

“It was not a pigsty! It was just a little messy.”

“It was a pigsty. Smelt like one too.”

“Now you’re just being mean,” Flynn pouted.

“Oh, my poor baby,” you cooed. “Should I call your mommy?”

“I didn’t know you had a mommy kink,” Flynn smirked.

“You asshole!”

You launch out of Ithan’s lap and land on Flynn, tickling that spot under his ribs.

The sound of Ithan and Ruhn’s laughter, and Flynn’s pleas for mercy drowned out the movie.

“Ok! Ok, I’m sorry! Please!”

“Promise you’ll behave!”

“I will, I will,” Flynn swore between fits of laughter.

You relented, settling down between Flynn and Ithan. You were squished, your shoulders caved inward to make room for their massive biceps but you were so warm and cozy you didn’t mind.

Ruhn leaned toward the coffee table and grabbed two bowls of popcorn, handing one off to you to share with Ithan. All four of you finally relaxed comfortably on the couch, joking about the characters’ poor decisions in the movie.

You sighed, leaning your head on Ithan’s shoulder and curling your legs to lay in Flynn’s lap. Flynn grabbed one of your socked feet and squeezed gently.

Your couch might not be big enough for the four of you, but your hearts certainly were.

[throneofsapphics]

let our bodies talk

Rowan x Reader x Ruhn

summary: Rowan and Ruhn help you deal with your guilt around sex, and take your virginity

warnings: virgin!reader, raw p in v (wrap it up everyone), religious guilt/shame, light hair pulling

word count: 3426

a/n: based on this request!

“Do you want us?” Ruhn finally asked, running a hand through his hair, the other toying with his lip ring. He pointedly ignored the silver-haired male staring at him like he wanted to chop him into bits and either sell them at the Meat Market or feed them to the creatures at the bottom of the Istros. 

Rowan had more patience and experience with immortality than he did. If you wanted him to wait another hundred years, he would, gladly, but he wanted to know what page you were on and he was ... well, he was used to having rather forward partners, he supposed. 

It started with him as an emissary to your world, and ended with this relationship he never could have expected, but would never change for a thing. You were everything he’d ever wanted and more. 

Your mouth parted, skin flushed, and eyes widened slightly. One of his favorite looks on you. “Of course,” the words came out quickly. Adorable. Everything about you was adorable. Cthona, he really was obsessed with you. “We’re together, aren't we?” You gained back a little bit of that attitude he loved. His mouth curved into a smirk. 

“Yes, love, we are.” 

“Ruhn is asking if you want to have sex with us,” Rowan grunted from behind you. You whirled around, not having seen him apparently. He shot you a slightly apologetic look. You were the only one who got those kinds of looks out of him, and it made Ruhn respect you even more. The male would bend over backwards for you. 

“I m- I mean yes, I do, I just ...” you trailed off uncharacteristically. 

Ruhn leaned forward in his chair, forearms bracing his thighs, Rowan rounded the couch to sit next to you, leaving a careful foot or so between the two of you. This conversation didn’t need touch, not right now at least. Ruhn stayed in his seat. Just talking about this, the idea of it, was making all sorts of unproductive changes to his blood flow. 

-

You sighed, glancing between the two of them. You wouldn’t get out of this conversation right now, at least not without them getting an acceptable answer. How do you even begin to explain your relationship with sex? When it's so complicated you barely feel like you understand it yourself? 

“Just listen to me, please,” you half pleaded, half ordered. They glanced at each other before turning to you and nodding. “I grew up with a lot of ... shame surrounding sex,” you could tell Ruhn was ready to interrupt and say fuck that, but Rowan fixed him with a look and although the male glared back he kept his mouth shut. Another time you might have laughed. “So as much as I fucking crave both of you, those thoughts are still trained into me. That its dirty, bad, against the gods wishes.” 

Rowan pressed his lips together at the last one, you knew it was ridiculous too - some of the gods were notoriously horny, after all. 

“So I'm a little ... behind because I avoided everything for so long.” 

“Are you a virgin?” Rowan asked, tone carefully neutral. If they cared either way ... well, then they wouldn’t be the males for you. 

“Yes,” you lifted your chin just a tad higher, trying to imbue yourself with some sort of confidence. 

“That’s not a problem for me,” Ruhn said, almost soothingly. 

“It shouldn’t be,” Rowan sent a warning look your way at the snip in your tone, and you glared right back at him. He held both hands up placatingly, almost in a ‘not policing you, I'm just trying to keep the peace,’ way. 

Ruhn caught your gaze, and you both burst into laughter, eyes lighting with mirth. Rowan snorted. Basically a roaring laugh coming from him. 

“Come here,” the unintentional dominance in Rowan’s voice bent your knees before you could think better of it. Not that you wanted to, not really. He patted the area next to him, giving you the option to close the distance. You did. 

You felt more than heard Ruhn move, as the couch dipped on your other side. You liked it here, pressed between them, your legs lining up from thigh to hip, just a few layers between your skin and theirs. The desire to remove the layers was there, but that old guilt crept in and tainted it. Your hand brushed the back of your neck, head tilting down, eyes trained on the floor. 

Ruhn caught your hand, bringing it down to rest on his thigh. You flexed your fingers, exploring the feel of the corded muscle beneath those jeans. His leg tensed, keeping hand settling over yours, keeping you still. 

“However long it takes,” he kissed the exposed side of your neck, “I'll teach you to not be ashamed of what your body wants.” 

“Of what you want,” Rowan added, running his thumb over your knee, his hand cupping your leg. 

“I want both of you,” you said the words quickly, as if they might never come out if you didn’t say them as fast as possible. 

“You’ll need to be a bit more specific than that,” Rowan’s eyes trailed you from head to toe, taking in every inch of your body. A hunger that you either hadn’t seen or noticed before flared. Tightness coiled in your stomach, you could arouse those kinds of feelings in them. You found you liked that power. 

“Relax, Rowan,” Ruhn drawled. The other male tensed. You smiled. “I think we can ask some questions, can’t we?” 

A muscle in Rowan’s jaw flexed, but he gave a short nod. 

Sometimes you wondered if you were the glue bonding them together, but they had a bond of their own outside of the one the three of you shared. Not sexual, but almost ... you couldn’t quite find a term to describe it. Maybe you’d invent one later. For now, they were capturing all of your attention. Questions. You knew what kind of questions they’d ask, but it didn’t leave you feeling any more prepared for it. 

“Has anyone touched this beautiful body before?” Ruhn breathed against your neck, his hand running down your thigh indolently. 

“You,” you said, a touch of something like defiance in your tone. One of them pinched your thighs lightly. Rowan. 

“It doesn’t work if you don’t answer our questions, love,” he said. 

“Not very well,” you sighed, throwing your head back to look up at the ceiling. Why did this have to feel so ... 

“These conversations aren’t meant to be smooth,” Ruhn reminded you. It gave you a bit of much-needed courage and you gave yourself a reminder. You loved these males, trusted them, and knew they’d never do anything to intentionally hurt you or make you feel upset. In fact, they’d usually do their best to make sure the opposite happened. 

“Did you like anything about their touch?” Rowan’s large hand covered part of your thigh, tips of his fingers digging in light enough to add a pleasurable pressure but avoid that edge of pain. Regardless, each of their touches felt like fire in your current wound up state and you doubted anything could douse it right now. 

“When it was over,” you said, honestly, and drew a laugh from each of them. 

“I promise you won’t want this to end,” Ruhn said. Tilting your head, blue eyes peered intently at you, full of heat and passion and desire. “I think we can figure out how to ask these questions without speaking,” he brushed the top of your thigh, playing with your hemline, “hm?” 

You arched towards him, hands reached out to grasp at his arms, tugging him closer, closer, closer, however you could get any contact with him. Something about his tone and words awoke a new desperation in you. The time for talking, for thinking, was over. 

Ruhn caught your hands. You frowned. He switched them to one of his and used the other to tilt your chin up. “If you want this to stop at any time, just say the word. Or tap a few times if you can’t speak.” 

“We won’t be angry or upset,” Rowan added. 

“If you were, I'd kick your asses. Before leaving them,” you grumbled.

Ruhn held his hands up. “I’m terrified,” he deadpanned. 

The pause gave space for ugly emotions to rear and infiltrate, invading your headspace. 

You heard the words of the priests and priestesses from your childhood, of your mother and father wondering what the hell you were doing before damning and cursing you. Doubt had no place in this room, but it found its way inside anyway. 

“I don’t think she wants this,” you heard Ruhn say, and your head snapped up. 

-

Ruhn hoped his gamble paid off and Rowan played along, that they could draw out your competitive side. 

Green eyes narrowed, but he said, “I’m afraid you may be right.” Rowan Whitethorn wasn’t afraid of a damn thing, but that wasn’t the point. 

“Yes I do,” you spluttered indignantly. That was the point.

“Show us,” Rowan challenged you. 

“I don’t know how,” your voice dropped to a furious whisper, and he wondered if you might call everything off. 

“Ask for help,” Rowan countered. 

“I thought we would do this without speaking,” Ruhn interjected. 

In unison, both you and Rowan replied, “that’s what you said,” and he bit back a grin. 

“One question then,” Rowan continued, “do you want us to fuck you tonight?” 

“Yes,” there was no hesitation, in fact eagerness in your tone. Bringing out your competitive side did work, and he noted that for later. 

“We’ll be gentle,” Rowan told you. 

You huffed. Ruhn titled his head, Rowan raised a brow at you. 

“I want you, not some watered down version of you - both of you.” 

“As you wish, my love,” Rowan murmured. 

“Your funeral,” Ruhn joked. 

“But I have one rule,” he sat up a little straighter at your words. 

“What is that?” 

“No magic,” you glanced between both males. “I just want you. Both of you.” 

-

“Very well,” Rowan acquiesced, not sounding too put out. “Come here,” he patted his thighs. After checking for Ruhn’s agreement to your ‘rule,’ you did. 

This part, this first step, you knew how to do. You’d kissed both of them before. Straddling him, you balanced yourself on the middle of his thighs. His fingers trailed up and down your sides, front, back, everywhere he could reach, brushing sensitive areas over your clothing. Brushing too lightly for how drastically your body seemed to react. Or maybe that was the point, less is more. 

‘Let go, stop thinking,’ you reminded and reprimanded yourself. 

It took you a minute or two to realize Rowan was waiting for something. For you to initiate. 

Leaning forward, you brushed your lips against his, mimicking the featherlight touches he was leaving on your body. Rowan wasn’t having it, and gripped the back of your head, winding his fingers through your hair before bringing you together. 

He stood, mouth still on yours, and you tightened your legs around his waist, locking your ankles, he wrapped one arm around your lower back, and snapped at Ruhn with his spare hand. 

The other male, understandably, snarled in return and you broke away from Rowan to hide your giggles into his shoulder. 

It broke the tension, and after a few strides from Rowan you were bouncing back on your bed, thrown there by him. Catching yourself against the headboard, it was your turn to glare. 

“That’s what you get for laughing,” Ruhn shrugged out of his shirt, and fuck your mouth watered. “My eyes are up here,” he teased you. 

“I thought we weren’t talking,” you snapped back. 

Not Ruhn, you could see all of him, but you felt another hand on the back of your neck. Rowan. Lips brushed against your ear, “I should just bend you over our bed and fuck you, but I think we can make it a little more enjoyable than that.” 

That sounded very enjoyable to you, and maybe scared you just a tad but not in an unpleasant way. Involuntarily, your thighs clenched. Ruhn’s chuckle told you he noticed. Heat seared your cheeks, the back of your neck, your chest. 

Half-naked, he climbed on the bed after you. Rowan stood next to the footboard, seemingly content to watch just for the moment. 

They seemed too coordinated and organized, in your opinion, and alarm bells flared in your mind and you scrambled with your hands to sit up. 

“Are you speaking to him?” You couldn’t fight the hint of accusation in your tone as you asked Ruhn.

“We’re making this enjoyable,” he pushed down lightly on your shoulders, “let us.” 

“Let go, love,” Rowan encouraged. 

You pursed your lips together in a frown, but nodded. You could let go, for tonight. Letting your hands slide out, your back hit the soft duvet cover again, the fabric silky against your skin. Relax. You were entirely capable of letting go. 

Ruhn’s lips hit your shoulder first, a soft and gentle kiss, before trailing down over your chest. The longer he went on, the firmer, you wouldn’t exactly call it rough, he got. Each touch grew more intense, his hands on your ribcage, pushing you down into the mattress as his lip ring flicked over your nipple. Teeth lightly grabbing the now swollen peak, tugging it up, drawing a gasp, before releasing. Testing how each part of your body reacted to different pressures and sensations. Learning you. 

He was good at this, you realized, with a hint of jealousy you quickly tamped down. Here and now, you reminded yourself. Focus. Capable. 

Lost in his touch, you didn’t notice the other male sliding in behind you until you were rising, your back pressed against his chest. Ruhn made a noise of discontent, like a kid with his candy taken away from him. 

“Ruhn’s going to fuck you first,” Rowan murmured in your ear, stroking down the side of your arm. “And when he’s done, I'll get to fuck that pretty little pussy, how does that sound?” 

“Great,” you barely managed to say. 

Then he was gone, out from behind you, and you were lowered onto the duvet again, head propped up on a pillow, Ruhn’s head between your - fuck. You lost all train of thought, all capability of thought as his tongue flicked your clit. Your voice left you as his lip ring, that beautiful thing, slid across your clit, a finger slipping inside and curling, putting just the right amount of pressure - and throwing you over the edge. 

Ruhn slowly worked you through your orgasm, adding another finger and twisting. You winced slightly at the stretching sensation. He stopped. 

“Just a little,” you panted, “uncomfortable. Keep going.” At the uncertain look on his face you added a, “please,” and that did the trick. 

He kept watching you intently, looking for every little change that might tell him something is wrong. But ... you didn’t feel the need to put on a performance. Instead, you found you liked the intensity he looked at you with. It made you feel wanted and desired in ways you never had before. It was bringing you to new highs. With another scream, your body melted into the mattress, legs falling limply to your sides. 

“I think she’s ready,” you heard Rowan. You nodded your agreement. Just a taste and you’d grown greedy, wanting more, more, more. All they would give you, all you could take. 

A belt clicked, clothes rustled, and you sat up on your elbows, impressed that even with the slight shake in your arms you could still hold yourself up. Maybe it was sheer determination to see Ruhn getting undressed that did it. It was certainly worth it. 

Licking your lips subconsciously at the sight of him, you realized he was pretty everywhere, including his cock. Near the same color as his skin, but with a glistening pink tip and a bulging vein running down the side, you wanted him in you. Now. 

“Get over here,” you breathed. 

“Bossy,” he said, raising his brows, but didn’t fucking move. 

Pressing your lips together, you saw a few avenues in front of you, and picked the one you figured would light a fire under him the best. 

“I guess I have to do it myself,” you sighed and let one arm slide out, snaking its way towards your center. 

It didn’t make it, not as Ruhn was there, catching your hand. “Not this time, princess.” 

His hand splayed against the backs of your thighs, pressing them up and to the sides as he knelt between your legs. 

“Breathe,” he ordered, and you’re glad you listened as he first pushed past your walls. Sharp pain hit your abdomen, catching your breath in your throat. 

An icy wind found its way down your throat, and you decided you’d thank Rowan, mentally, now and yell, verbally, at him later. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“Keep going,” you hissed through clenched teeth. You might’ve had a lot of ... conflicting feelings surrounding sex, but that didn’t mean you hadn’t educated yourself. All the bodice rippers told you that the pleasure would kick in soon, that before you knew it you’d be overwhelmed by the “feel good” hormones. Gods you hoped they were real. 

He moved, but slowly. Lifting your hips to switch the angle, you gasped as he hit somewhere deep inside of you. That felt good. 

“That’s the spot, then,” he murmured, more to himself. 

“Fuck you feel good,” you moaned, nails clawing at his shoulders, searching for some kind of grip or anything to hold on to. He chuckled and lowered himself just enough you could grab them, before his hands spread against your sides, gripping you firmly. 

“Remember what you said earlier,” he paused inside of you. You wanted to scream at him. Instead you were left looking at his dumbly, eyes blinking. “About not wanting a watered down version of us. You’re still sure?” 

“Yes I’m sure, just fuck me or I'll-”

You didn’t get a chance to finish your words as he moved again, tilting your hips to that perfect angle before driving into you, over and over again. 

Not quite rough, but certainly not gentle, whatever he was doing was absolutely perfect, and as his fingers found your clit, you had your third - or was it fourth? - orgasm of the night. 

You actually whined as he pulled out, his eyes still open and fixed on you. He hadn’t finished. A pout started forming. 

As if he read the words in your eyes, he said, “someone else has been waiting for their turn, I’m sharing you tonight princess,” and jerked his head to the side. You followed the motion, and Rowan stood there, looking at you with pure hunger in his eyes. 

You swallowed. Louder than you intended to. Ruhn moved off you. 

“On your knees,” Rowan said roughly, but didn’t give you a chance before he gripped your hips and flipped you. Squeaking, your hands scrambled and slid before you landed on your elbows. His hand twisted around your hair, not pulling but gripping and tilting your head to look at him. “I still want to see your face, but it’ll be easier for you this way.” 

Easier? Just then, you realized you hadn’t gotten a good look at him, but based on how Ruhn went first you could put together a few things. 

“Alright,” you breathed. 

There was no hesitation from either side as Rowan slid in you, your body both welcoming and protesting him, your hips and thighs already beginning to ache, but you wanted more. A greedy little monster had begun to bloom in you. 

Both of them just felt right, in different ways, and you - 

“Eyes on me,” Rowan snapped. Your eyes flew to him, and his mouth indented at one corner in the way the stoic smile. “I said I wanted to see your face, love.” 

His hands gripped your hips. 

“See your pretty little face as you take my cock so well.” 

The words drew a moan from you, sending pleasure from the tips of your fingers to the bottom of your toes, making you push yourself back on him. Green stared at you, unrelenting as each slow, hard thrust nearly bounced you off him 

“Look how perfectly you’ve opened up for me,” he sounded almost teasing, “just like you were made for me.” 

Maybe you were, made for both of them as they were for you. 

-

taglists:

general: @rowaelinsdaughter @bookishbroadwaybish @nestaismommy @erencvlt @book-obsessed124 @callsigns-haze

throne of glass: @I-am-a-lost-girl16

crescent city: @I-am-a-lost-girl16

let me know if you'd like to hop on the tag list!

[utterlyotterlyx]

New Pages

Part Two

Modern!Az x Fem!Reader

Summary - After giving Azriel a chance to build your friendship, you find yourself needing more of him.

Warnings - none really, lots of fluff, some pining

Part One

The shock on everyone's faces was palpable when Azriel had stepped into the sorority house that calm summer afternoon, the windows were open and the curtains floated in the warm summer breeze that Feyre questioned was actually cooling them down at all, and the fans whirred, throwing out cool gusts of air as they turned about the room.

They were all sweaty, thin layers of it coated their brows and they all lay wearing as little clothing as possible without seeming indecent, the guys had their shirts wrapped around their necks, and the girls were clad in vest tops and shorts, all begging for some kind of release from the heat that had risen from the depths of hell to torture them.

Nesta thought the heat had finally infiltrated her ice cold soul, she actually thought she was dreaming when she peered up from her place splayed on the wooden floor with Cassian's arm draped over her midriff to see Azriel looking down on them dressed in dark denim shorts and a loose tank top wearing a smirk, "Am I seeing things or are you actually stood in our house?"

The sound of Nesta's voice made the rest of the room stir all turning their heads in unison to find Azriel stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets and hair falling over his face. Feyre sat up despite Rhys' groans of protest, wafting her face with her handheld foldable fan that possessed a swirl of ornate colour, of pale blues and greys, with birds sketched onto the surface, "I thought you were busy today?"

Azriel shrugged, "I am," then the padding of feet sounded from the hallway above, toppling down the stairs until you appeared at the bottom of the them, frowning at the sight of your friends cascaded about the living room.

Mor went to say something, something along the lines of what the fuck, but Rhys jabbed his heel into her shin and she instead hissed at the force, throwing Rhys a sidelong glance which he returned with a knowing smirk and raised eyebrow.

"You okay, Mor?" Mor hummed, forcing a smile and nodding at you, her eyes drifted over your figure, from your perfectly curled hair that hadn't dropped from the humid heat, to the pale yellow sundress with frilled shoulders, to the beige sandals that snaked up your calves, you had your usual leather satchel pressed to your side no doubt homing your sketchbook and pencils, and your makeup was simple and made your face shimmer in the rich sunlight.

"Peachy," Mor strained, rubbing her fingers against the throbbing patch of skin that Rhys had booted moments before, "Where are two off to?"

"Oh, I mentioned that I needed to stop by the book store for more supplies and Azriel asked to come with," they knew the bookshop that you spoke of, the one you went into every time you had an early morning class, it was a bookshop that had a section of art supplies and a little café in the back corner which was the place they'd always find you if you weren't answering your phone, usually finding you curled up into the comfort of a deep seated armchair, reading away mindlessly. You nudged Azriel with your shoulder, a soft sparkle in your eyes, "He needs more film for his camera."

Azriel was an art major but specialised in photography, he was always the one on road trips who would take the most breath-taking photos, of them or the landscape, his portfolio was incredible to sift through. He was really talented.

Azriel cleared his throat, "I have a project coming up, Muses of the Universe, need to make sure I'm stocked up," adjusted the long strap of his camera on his shoulder and smiled thinly at them, "Shall we go?"

Rhys was dumbfounded, he knew that you two had quashed the angst between you, but he never expected his brother to turn up at your house to pick you up for a day of what, shopping? "Are you wearing sunscreen?!" Nesta shouted after your retreating form, propping herself up on her elbows and scowling at the idea that you may not be.

A giggle floated through the hallway, around the open door and to their ears, "Yes, mum."

Then the door closed and the silence that flooded the room was confused, it was intense, "I'm sorry but since when?" Amren's eyes were wide below her dipped brows, her gaze flickering across the space to each of their faces.

Mor met her with the same incredulous glare, "Right?!" Mor kicked Rhys' chair, "You must know something."

Rhys' held his hands up in feigned surrender, "I really don't. Az hasn't said anything to us," he motioned between himself and Cassian, pushing his hair back away from his face and sighing.

"He crashed her book club," Elain entered the room holding a translucent water bottle in her manicured fingers, her hair was neatly tied to the back of her head, and she was wearing a loose pink blouse that was tucked into the waist of her flared white shorts. On her way out to see Lucien no doubt.

"Tell us everything," Feyre grabbed Elain by the wrist and pulled her down to the sofa, she scoffed at the action and ordered Feyre not to touch her with those sweaty hands again before relenting.

"All I know is that he turned up to her book club and recited one of her favourite passages, they've been fine ever since," Elain grimaced at the sweat that coated them all and stood from the seat, turning the bracelet on her wrist so that the diamond pendent lay visible against her skin, "Don't be a meddler," Elain poked Feyre's cheek playfully before chiming her goodbye and leaving the house.

Another warm gust floated through the window and they all groaned, internally cursing you and Elain who weren't bothered by the searing heatwave that had descended upon the borough as you pranced about the town and soaked up the sunshine.

The basket was full to the brim with books, some classics that had been released with new covers, and new additions to the plethora of series you had been reading, and finished, awaiting for the next to drop from the skies and into your hands.

Thank the Mother for aircon.

The bookshop was busy, possibly because it was one of the few places that offered shelter from the sweltering heat, and Azriel had watched you say hello to your classmates and the shop workers, he watched you ask about their days and if any of the things you had ordered had arrived yet.

Azriel had insisted holding your basket as you scoured the shelves, plucking books from their perches and reading the reverse, frowning in concentration as you tried to decide whether or not to add it to the pack waiting to return home with you.

Your eyes had spied something on the top shelf, and Azriel cocked his head to the side slightly as you tried to reach upward, your fingers barely brushing against the ledge of the shelf as you strained yourself, groaning softly as your heels touched the floor again.

Then a shadow cast itself over you, and you peered through your lashes to see Azriel stood behind you, arm outstretched and effortlessly taking the book from the shelf. Cedar and rain kissed your lungs and you shivered in delight as your fingers brushed against his to take the book he had offered to you, "Thank you."

Azriel smiled down on you, "Don't mention it," you didn't even look at the back before popping in on top of the pile in the basket, "Are you not going to make sure you want it?"

You hummed in reply, leading you both to the checkout, "Don't need to," you paid for the books and collected your art supplies, waiting to the side for Azriel to pay for his film, and once he did, he made his way over to you and removed one of the bags from your fingers, not accepting your protests as he walked into the café.

Oat chai latte, with cinnamon. You always had to have the cinnamon. You thanked him as he slid the beverage onto the glass surface of the table with the wicker legs, he sat down opposite you, running his hand through his hair and relaxing into his seat as he stirred his black americano with a dash of hot milk. A drink of tortured artist.

"Are you going to book club this week?"

Azriel's ears perked up at your question, the hope in your eyes told him that you wanted him there, "What's the book?"

"Little Women. Have you read it before?"

Azriel sipped the strong black beverage and cleared his throat, "There are many Beths in the world, shy and quiet, sitting in corners till needed, and living for others so cheerfully that no one sees the sacrifices till the little cricket on the hearth stops chirping, and the sweet, sunshiny presence vanishes, leaving silence and shadow behind."

"You just keep on surprising me, Shadowsinger," your smile was bright and your soul soft and relaxed, your eyes held a sparkle within them that he would die for just to have them be the sky of his afterlife.

Before Azriel could reply, someone had called out your last name, the one he desperately wanted to change to his own one day. Ruhn scraped a free chair across the floor and sat with his chest against the back beside you, "I've been texting you," he grinned politely at Azriel, rife with confusion but polite nonetheless.

"Sorry, I left my phone at home," I didn't want to be distracted, you seemed to say and Azriel's heart skipped a beat, "What's up?"

"There's a football match tonight, thought you'd like to join us? Eris and Ithan are playing, they always do better when you're in the stands," Ruhn spoke knowingly and Azriel cringed at the mention of Eris' name, the guy who had made it very clear how much he liked you and still persisted, like Ruhn, to gain your attention. Not like Azriel could blame either of them at all for their desires, you truly were one in seven billion.

"Sure," you turned to Azriel, "Do you want to come?"

Azriel could feel Ruhn's fury at your question, but not toward you, toward him who held your gaze and nodded, "I'd love to."

"Great," you chimed, turning back to Ruhn, "We'll see you there," it was a polite dismissal, one that Ruhn despised but respected as he told you the time you'd be meeting before placing the chair back at the table he'd taken it from and walking back out into the sun, his golden skin glistening under its eye.

"So," he whistled, "Eris?"

"What about him?" You smoothed down the skirt of your dress and took a sip of your latte, sighing as the sweetness poured down your throat.

It was no secret that the eldest of the Vanserra clan pined after you, taking every opportunity possible to bask in your glow, "Has anything ever happened between you?"

A laugh fell from your lips and you shook your head, "Never. Eris isn't my type," you waved the idea away, "I like the romantic types, the gentle souls full of surprises. I want someone who tells me that they love me everyday, who makes me feel like I'm living in a novel. I don't think Eris is that guy."

Azriel saw your eyes glaze over, getting lost in the sentiment of old fashioned love, and he knew that he was the one to make those pure dreams come true.

Author's Note

Part 3??

[shadowdaddies]

Hello! I'm back again to bother you with a silly little request. So I was reading your Lucien comfort fic and it was amazing and I saw you were looking for Ruhn requests so here you go. So maybe the reader is someone who gets hurt easily? Maybe becaue they're very clumsy and those small injuries bleed a little but the reader just cant resist the urge to pick the scabs that form? I know I'm always scolding my friends for picking theyre scabs. So you could either go of from there or I had a small idea that maybe the reader could be Hunts sister? And nobody knows that reader and Ruhn were dating but maybe the reader keeps constantly picking at her scabs so Ruhn just pins her arms to the headboard and Hunt just walks in at that moment?

This request is all over the place and I'm so sorry for that but yeah thats my idea and I hope you have a great day!

you are never a bother, love💜 I had fun with the "Ruhn pins her arms to the headboard" part so it got a little suggestive lol

Healing Touch

Ruhn x Reader

Warnings: mentions of minors injuries (cuts/bruises), quite suggestive

“Hi, my love,” you greeted, pushing up on your toes to pull Ruhn in for a kiss. 

“Hi,” he murmured against your lips, cheekily dragging his lip ring across your mouth before pulling away. Yelling sounded from the living room, making you jump in surprise as you tripped, Ruhn chuckling as he caught you in his arms.

“What do you do when I’m not around to catch you?” he teased. 

“I just fall,” you laughed, gesturing to the bruises on your legs from the many times you’d tripped and bumped into furniture from your own clumsiness. 

More shouts sounded, Declan and Flynn’s voices echoing as they argued about whatever game they were playing. Ruhn gave you an apologetic look.

“Why don’t we go up to my room?” he offered, and you nodded, taking the handrail as you headed up the wooden staircase. Ruhn followed behind you, asking you about your day when you turned to respond, misjudging the height of the next step and tripping for the second time this evening.

Ruhn caught you by the waist, keeping your head from hitting the wooden step, but you’d hit your knee hard enough to leave an already darkening bruise. With a sigh, you pouted, taking a seat on the steps as you rubbed your knee. 

“Come on, love,” Ruhn murmured, crouching down to pick you up bridal style as he continued up the stairs. “I’ll get you some ice for that.”

You snuggled into the warmth of his chest, admiring the long black hair that flowed over his shoulder, the steady breaths of his chest, his confident and coordinated strides. Ruhn kicked the ajar door open with his boot, swiftly kicking it shut behind him without so much as shifting you in his broad arms.

Regretfully, you allowed him to set you down on his bed as Ruhn went downstairs to get some ice. You scanned the room, band posters and amateur art hanging on the walls. Leaning over to peek at the picture frame on his nightstand, you winced at the pressure on your knee.

Sitting down against the mattress, you saw the bruise forming right alongside a healing cut. You couldn’t help but scratch at the skin, your nails against the wound helping to alleviate the itchy pain. 

Ruhn came in the room, violet eyes going wide as he stared at your leg. Looking down, you found that you’d reopened the cut, blood trickling down your leg. 

“Shit, I’m sorry!” you gasped, taking the rag with ice from Ruhn’s hand as you tried to clean up the mess on your skin.

“It’s okay, love. How did that happen?” he questioned, nodding towards your opened cut. You lifted the rag to look at the injury, the itch immediately returning once you removed the ice.

“I can’t remember. I either cut myself shaving or maybe I bumped into the edge of a table? Or maybe my dog scratched me. It happens all the time,” you babbled, oblivious that your nails had returned to scratching the skin for relief.

“Woah! Hey, stop that,” Ruhn scolded, his hand taking your wrist as he pulled it from your leg, thumb softly stroking your pulse. “You’re making it worse, love. You can’t scratch at it, or it won’t heal.” Taking the rag from you, Ruhn cleaned up your leg, gently holding the ice to your skin.

You groaned in frustration, yearning to investigate your injuries that Ruhn had covered from you. “I can’t help it. It feels better to scratch them, Ruhn,” you huffed, legs shaking with nervous energy.

“Mm, well if you can’t help it, I think I know how to help you,” Ruhn purred in your ear, taking your other wrist in his hand as he pinned them above your head, straddling your hips as he caged you in against the mattress.

“I could just distract you,” he whispered, warm breath tickling your ear as he kissed his way down your neck. 

Breathless, you arched into his touch, bruises forgotten as you wrapped your legs around his hips. “That sounds like a possible solution,” you whispered, mewling as Ruhn sucked on the base of your throat, groaning as he ground his hips into yours.

A short knock sounded, the door swinging open as Bryce strode in the room. “Ruhn, have you seen-“ 

She stopped, cupping a hand over her mouth as she gasped, holding back her laughter. When you thought it couldn’t get any worse, your brother, Hunt, followed in after Bryce, his gaze following hers to where you lay pinned on the bed.

Rage filled his eyes as the Umbra Mortis shone through them, lightning shooting from his fingertips as he glared at Ruhn. Bryce put a calming hand on his chest, poorly trying to hide her amusement as you leapt up from the bed.

“Hunt, it’s not what it looks like!” You pleaded. All three heads turned, giving you incredulous looks. “Okay, maybe it is what it seems. Ruhn and I have been dating for awhile.”

Hunt still simmered with rage, still not saying a word as you continued to babble your defense. Ruhn’s hand came to rest on your lower back, the gesture immediately soothing as he began to speak.

“I just want you both to know that this isn’t casual. I love her,” he confessed. Your head whipped to look at the prince, the blush dusting his cheeks as violet eyes turned to gauge your reaction. You hadn’t said those words yet.

“I love you, too,” you whispered, tears springing in your eyes as you pulled him in for a kiss, forgetting your brother was standing right there.

Hunt loudly cleared his throat, pulling you back to reality as you stared sheepishly at your brother. “Please do not do that in front of me again,” he grumbled, allowing Bryce to push him out the door as she winked at you.

With a sigh, you flopped back against the mattress, both mortified and elated by today’s events. Ruhn simply chuckled, opening your legs as he settled in between them. His eyes sparkled as he lifted your leg, drawing your attention to the feline smirk he wore. 

“Now, where were we?” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your ankle. “I love you,” he whispered again, pressing a light kiss to the bruise on your shin. 

Ruhn peppered kisses to each mark he could find, long black hair cascading over his shoulder as he intertwined his fingers with yours above your head. 

“And I love you,” you whispered, wrapping your legs around his hips once more as you found yourself eager to finish what you had started.

[allywritesmanythings]

A Marriage of Convenience (R. Danaan) Part 1.

Summary: You and Ruhn are forced to marry each other

Words. 1.9K

Requested: Yes

Warings or A/N: I changed it up just a tad bit.

You had only recently learned of the planned marriage between yourself and Prince Ruhn of Lunathion, a mere two weeks ago. Despite the fact that your fathers had been in talks about this arrangement for the past year, the reality of it was now sinking in as you made the trip to Lunathion to formalize the arrangement. The idea of being trapped in a loveless marriage weighed heavily on your heart, but you understood the implications of disobeying your father's wishes.

As the elegant black car came to a stop in front of the magnificent mansion belonging to the Autumn King, a wave of nerves twisted in your stomach. The realization hit that in a mere month, you would be wed. Staring up at the grand and imposing structure, far surpassing the grandeur of your own home, any sense of excitement failed to ignite within you.

Inhaling deeply, you started to exit the car while Felix held the door open. Your faithful bodyguard, a source of comfort and security, extended his hand to assist you. "You're going to be alright, my sweet girl. I'll be with you every step of this fiasco and beyond," He reassured.

Your father decided not to come with you and instead sent Felix in his place. You didn't mind at all, in fact, you preferred it that way. Felix had been your loyal bodyguard for over five years. Even though he was a few years older than you and certainly good looking, you both had always kept things professional. However, despite this, you had formed a close bond over the years, sharing almost every moment together.

As your hand joined with Felix's, he led you out of the car while maintaining unwavering eye contact. The prominent pink scar on his cheek immediately drew your attention, reminding you of his steadfast loyalty. Two weeks ago, Felix had defied your father's commands in order to protect you, enduring a brutal punishment as a result. Your father had been prepared to fire him, but you stepped in, bargaining to save Felix's position.

You had agreed to work with the Danann family and not cause any trouble, as long as Felix was with you. "I appreciate it," you whispered as he led you towards the imposing entrance of the mansion. The King was waiting, with a person who was definitely not Ruhn, likely his bodyguard, by his side.

The Autumn King tried to approach you, but Felix blocked his path. "With all due respect, do not advance towards the princess without her permission," He said firmly, his tone brooking no disagreement. "Once you and my son are married, this will change," the King commented, eyeing Felix.

Felix stood unwavering under the Autumn King's scrutiny, displaying no hint of hesitation. His head slightly tilted, signaling a message that you quickly grasped. As you moved around him, a silent understanding passed between the two of you.

"Are you implying that Felix should be replaced as my bodyguard, Einar?" You challenged, a touch of defiance seeping into your tone.

"I will not tolerate disobedience," the King began.

You raised your hand to quiet him. "He is not under your authority, nor am I. I am to be Prince Ruhn's wife, and my loyalty lies with him. Felix obeys my commands, not yours. If you have a problem with him, discuss it with me. My people fall under my protection and authority alone, as per our agreement. If you try to dismiss Felix, our agreement will be terminated. Is that understood?”

"I question if your father would give his approval," he started, only to be cut off by you.

"Do you grasp the situation? Keep in mind, you need this marriage more than we do," You stated firmly, your voice carrying more authority.

"I understand," he replied, his jaw clenched.

"Good. Now, where is Prince Ruhn?"

"He's running late," the King confessed.

"Fantastic. A prince who can't even show up on time. How delightful," you grumbled, frustration evident in your tone.

"Perhaps if you enter, Axel can escort you to your rooms for some rest while we wait," the King proposed.

You gave him a skeptical look. "No," you firmly stated.

"No?" he inquired, puzzled.

"I have made arrangements for us to stay elsewhere. I will not tolerate your staff invading our privacy or listening in on our discussions. As your son is not here, we are leaving. I will see him at the party later. Have a nice day, Einar," you announced, pivoting on your foot and heading towards the car.

Felix reached for the door handle as you shot a defiant look back at the King. "Just because I'm a Princess doesn't mean I'll follow blindly. There's a reason other kingdoms have turned down your treaties. Best to remember that." You declared before climbing into the car.

As Felix settled in beside you, he flashed a proud smile. "That's my girl," he remarked.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

As you made your entrance into the ballroom, every gaze was fixed on you in your elegant black sleeveless, spaghetti strap high-split maxi v-neck gown. The dress hugged your curves in all the right places, drawing admiring looks as you glided through the room. Despite your father's desire for you to wear a crown, you chose to not wear the accessory, preferring to blend in with the crowd and feel at ease.

As you strolled through the room, Einar came up to you and offered a friendly greeting. You took a deep breath and responded to the king with a polite, albeit insincere smile. "Your home is quite exquisite,"

Einar reciprocated the smile and asked about your accommodations while you were staying there. "I trust your accommodations met your expectations,”

You nodded subtly in agreement. Einar's attention then turned to Felix, who stood behind you but avoided meeting his gaze. It was evident that Felix was observing the room carefully, studying the faces of everyone there. His Fae ability allowed him to recall memories in vivid detail. "You can feel at ease here. Your bodyguard isn't needed," Einar attempted to reassure you.

Felix's piercing stare moved from the crowd to Einar, his eyes brimming with a silent warning that could have been deemed lethal. A grin tugged at your lips as you noted the brief flash of fear that crossed the Autumn King's features. It was clear that he wasn't used to being challenged in his own home. Offering a comforting touch to Felix's arm, you met the King's gaze head-on.

"As we previously discussed, Felix remains at my side at all times. His responsibilities are not within your worry," you declared firmly.

Einar acknowledged with a nod, trying to ease the atmosphere. "I did not mean to offend-"

Interrupting him, you motioned with your hand for him to be quiet. "Where is Prince Ruhn? Is he here, or is he once late again?”

"He's currently on the balcony with his two friends and roommates," Einar said, pointing in that direction.

"Thank you for letting me know," you replied courteously.

"If you'd like, I can accompany you to find him," Einar suggested.

"No, thanks," you declined.

"I need to take care of some things," Einar said as he got ready to leave.

"Feel free to go, I won't keep you," you replied with a fake smile.

The king nodded and walked off, leaving you and Felix alone. Felix kept his eyes on the king as he left, then turned to you and said, "I have a bad feeling about him.”

"Good. I want it that way," you confirmed.

"Are you certain you don't want me to go with you to see Prince Ruhn?" Felix asked.

"I'll be alright. Remember, he values this treaty more than us. He won't cause me any harm," You reassured him.

"(Name)-" Felix began.

"Felix, I'll be okay. You'll be there right after me," You insisted.

"Yes, your highness," Felix responded, returning to his formal demeanor.

You followed the King's directions and made your way to the window, where three men were deep in conversation on the balcony. "Stand here and you can observe their every move, as well as mine," You advised Felix.

He followed your lead and positioned himself at the window to watch the trio.

As you neared the open doors, the men's voices grew louder. "Can you believe you're tying the knot in a month?" One exclaimed.

"She's probably going to be a spoiled ass princess," Ruhn remarked.

A second man joined in, "I wonder if she's a good fuck."

"Spoiled brats rarely are," Ruhn observed.

"That's been my experience too," Boy three agreed.

"Having her as a wife is going to be a total nightmare. She's going to be so difficult to deal with," Ruhn lamented.

"Can't you do anything to change it?"

"Sadly, no," Ruhn responded with a sense of resignation.

"Sucks to suck," Boy two remarked.

"She's going to be living in our house, you know," Boy one said.

"Yeah, but we can just avoid her. Ruhn won't have that luxury," another person added.

Despite the comments being exchanged by Ruhn and his friends, you couldn't help but chuckle at their banter while rolling your eyes. Their words were familiar, but you remained unaffected. Though you didn't appreciate their antics, you were accustomed to them. As the trio glanced your way, you interjected, "sorry, just feeling a bit overwhelmed," motioning towards the crowded ballroom behind you.

You had opted to maintain your anonymity, leaving Ruhn to uncover your identity on his own. With the wedding arrangements scheduled to start the next day, you anticipated having to face him alone. As Ruhn's gaze traveled over you, you could discern his contemplations, prompting a laugh from you. He wasn't going to touch you ever.

Ruhn asked, "I haven't seen you here before. What's your name?"

"You're getting married soon, so there's no need for introductions," you replied, walking away while they looked at you longingly.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Upon entering the ballroom, you noticed that Ruhn's friends were present but Ruhn was nowhere to be seen. The red-headed friend spotted you and promptly nudged his companion, gesturing in your direction. The other friend turned around, his eyes wide with surprise. "Oh shit," he muttered under his breath.

You couldn't help but smirk as you approached them, causing them to hastily straighten up. "Where's the prince?" you inquired.

"He-He'll be here shortly," The second male stammered.

You rolled your eyes in exasperation. “Is this going to be a regular occurrence? Is he always going to be late? Since you two seem to be his closest friends, what are your names?”

“Tristan Flynn, but everyone just calls me Flynn,” the red-haired one replied.

“Declan Emmett,” the other one added.

“Let’s just get this over with,” you heard Ruhn's voice say impatiently.

You spun around, and Ruhn's eyes widened in recognition when he saw you. "Oh, fuck. Listen, I'm not sure what you heard last night, but-" Ruhn started to explain.

You quickly raised your hand to silence him. "Save it. Say what you will about me. I refuse to defend myself to a Fae male who appears as though a tattoo shop vomited on him while he slept in a dumpster. Let's be clear - neither of us wants this. So, here's the deal. In public, we'll pretend to be a couple, putting on a show for our fathers' sake. But in private, we can ignore each other and fuck who we want. Do we have a deal?”

Ruhn was left speechless, his mouth hanging open in astonishment, but he nodded in agreement.

"Good. And another thing. As I have already clarified to the Autumn King on two occasions, you do not command Felix, my bodyguard. He follows my orders exclusively. His directives are not your concern or your father's, do you understand?"

"Yes," answered Ruhn.

[imaginesmai]

Safe place - Ruhn Danaan

I've been re-reading hosab so I can enjoy the third one and I'm extremly frustrated at the lack of Ruhn fics, so here is my own. It's shitty, it's late and it's not proof-read.

Plot: the autumn king tries to hurt you with his words and actions, but Ruhn is always there to help you up.

You had known it would be hard.

You had known, for a while, that the dreadful day would come, that you would finally face the source of your anxiety and doubts, and that it would be hard.

But it had left you completely broken, as useless as he had described you. Standing outside the Autumn's King's villa, you didn't bother taking cover from the rain nor caring about the looks that granted you. You were too busy replaying the words over and over again in your head, remembering the sting on your cheek from his slap. You knew it would be hard, but meeting your mate's father had exceeded any expectation.

You had been summoned that morning with a brief letter, mentioning that the king wanted to meet you formally. Too busy worrying about what he would say or think, you hadn't noticed the reason behind the sudden decision — Ruhn was away with his Aux for the day, and wouldn't be back until night time. That left Declan and Flynn out of the equation, the only friends you had in that place.

So, when you had been hastily dragged out of his office like trash, when his hateful speech had broken through the walls, no one had said anything.

You choked on the next sob, not knowing what to do. Your shared apartment was more than an hour away walking, and it was pouring. Calling Bryce would be a terrible idea, since she didn't need another excuse to blow that place to pieces, and Hunt shared her feelings. You could always call a cab, but you were certain that none would answer.

The king wanted you out in the streets like a rat, and he would make it happen.

So you hugged yourself, ignored the bruises that were already forming on your forearm and lowered your head. Exiting the fairy territory was the worst part. Not only they didn't do anything about his king behavior, but made sure to force you to step out the sidewalk.

An attractive, tall woman spat at your feet as you walked by her side.

Your eyes full of tears and your heart in a knot, you didn't notice the shadows or the stares until Ruhn stopped in front of you, head to chest. Looking up, your lips trembled once more when you noticed the look on his face. The absolute murder on his beautiful blue eyes. They instantly noticed the angry cut made by his father's ring, the way you cradled your arm.

"It isn't worthy" you hiccupped, tired and devastated. "He isn't"

"You are" he growled back, the street almost covered in his angry, restless shadows. "You are my fucking mate and he has no right to even look at you"

"I just wanna go home"

You had been in that situation before — someone making a comment or a move about the obvious truth, that he was the prince and you were the half-human. That it was not supposed to be, because his fate was to be with someone better, more powerful, more talented. Not a half-human barista who barely managed to finish her studies and pay off her loans.

Each and every single time, Ruhn had gotten himself into trouble because of it. So many times, actually, that you had long ago stopped believing what they said. But it was different, because that time, it came from someone with the capacity of making it happen. Of keeping you away from Ruhn and taking the only light in your life away. Only thinking about it made your breath speed up.

"Flynn will take you home" Ruhn stared behind your shoulder, as if he could see his target.

"Ruhn, please. I just want to... Forget about it" you tried again, sneaking a hand forward until you could grab his. It was shaking from rage.

"And I want to talk to him. Just like he has talked to you" he snarled, not looking at you though holding your hand. "He thinks - he believes he can do this, he has always done it. But there are lines"

"There are lines for you too. Let's just -"

"Have you seen yourself, Y/N?" Rhun interrupted you. "Don't think I can't guess what he has said. He has touched you. He has kicked out of my home, because this is mine too. He has no right. None"

"He will do it again, if you give him a reason" you waited a few seconds in silence before squeezing his hand, looking at him through the pouring rain. "Ruhn"

His eyes finally dropped back to you, and he ran his tongue across his lip piercing. He knew what he needed, what he wanted. To scream back at his father so the whole Lunathion heard how worthy you were of him, how he was the one who had to keep up with you.

Ruhn wanted to finally act on his father, that had caused him so much harm, that had rejected his sister like a stray puppy. He wanted to kill him for even daring to summon you, knowing he wasn't around and your kind heart wouldn't recline.

He was tempted to do so, his eyes moving back and forth from your eyes to the scratch on your cheek. Even if he could imagine what had happened there, he had lived through enough to know it had been worse.

The only thing that kept him from breaking down his father's door and every bone was the urge of taking you away from that place. He hadn't thought about an umbrella or a car. After receiving Bryce call that you weren't home and having Declan track your phone, he had only one worry in mind - your safety.

And he had to ensure that first.

So he brushed off his soaked jacket and put it over your shoulders and head, big enough to cover you partially from the rain.

Without sharing another word, Ruhn draped his arm around your shoulders and tucked you into his chest, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He felt more than saw you trembling, enclosing your body around him like a perfect mold.

Yeah, he would kill his father for this. Just not tonight.

"How did you know?" you asked softly, while he scared away the few curious eyes that still looked at you with just one glare.

"I always know when you need me" he squeezed your shoulders, wishing it was different. "I'll always come"

"I hate him" you admitted, knowing the feeling was shared. "I hate what he said and did, but I hate more than he only cares about us because he wants to use you. I despise him"

There were few people you hated. That girl in fourth grade who cut your hair as you were trying to grow it longer. The cat of your neighbors, who snarled at you and tried to scratch you every time you saw her. People who started wars, maybe. But you were a kind-hearted person, and that had made Ruhn fall in love with you. Tired from all the hate and pain, you had been his salvation in a world where he was losing his soul.

What pained him the most was that, if it wasn't for his father's hidden intentions behind his dislike for your relationship, you wouldn't even hate him. You would shrug the hurt and sadness away, and keep going.

His father loathed that you were his mate, that he had a normal, healthy relationship with no political power. He wasted no occasion to throw him women and men that would be a great alliance to his family – and still, all Ruhn could do was search for your face in the crowd.

So different from each other, he could barely resist the urge of turning around and burning the whole place down. But he kept hugging you silently, gathering the strength to leave that place without turning back.

"Whatever he said, whatever came out if his poisoned mouth, was a lie. He can try and change us, but he won't" Ruhn felt the need to remind you, no matter how many times he had said it. "I love you, I've loved you since the first coffee and long after my body goes cold"

"I love you too, Ruhn"

“Couch and movie?”

Ruhn had planned a party, as he always did, for when he came back that night. But not even Declan and Flynn would argue with him, knowing he needed to stay with you just as much as you needed you. You nodded against his chest and he let you both be consumed by shadows and darkness.

He tugged you forward until you were nested against his side, and started walking. The shadows covered you from the worst part of the rain as you walked in silence, tucked together.

No matter how much his father hurt you, how much he used Ruhn, there was something he could never change – that you were his home.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

[starfall-spirit]

Ship: Feyre/Rhysand/Ruhn

Summary: Prideful as it made her seem, Feyre had never been the type of girl to go around begging for help. Knowing her unexpected pregnancy would upend her life in a way there was no bouncing back from, she allows herself to accept the hand extended. The problem? Just as she starts to build a relationship with Rhys, her one night stand comes waltzing back into her life in a way she never expected. Seeing what that one night led to, he has no intention of walking away a second time.

AN: Originally designed as a one shot, everything to follow Chapter I is considered AU relevant bonus content 😊

Read on Ao3

Chapter I: Feysand Week 2024~AU

Chapter II

Chapter III: Poly SJM Week 2025~AU

[danikamariewrites]

Have We Met?

Ruhn x reader

A/n: this just came into my head and I had to get it out bc drunk Ruhn would be a hoot. Not proof read sorry for any mistakes

Warnings: none, drunk Ruhn

Standing at the bar you felt a tap on your shoulder then a mumbled ‘scuse me. Turning to see who was pushing their way between you and the stranger next to you, you spotted Ruhn’s familiar sheet of blue/black hair. He pushed it behind his shoulder, attempting to lean on the bar but his elbow slipped a little.

You laughed at your boyfriends drunk antics. Ruhn was adorable when he was drunk. He turned into baby and became very clingy. He giggled, “You have a cute laugh.” A drunken smile took over his lips. You pinched his cheek which had a small blush thanks to the alcohol he’d been drinking all night. “Thanks baby.”

Ruhn’s eyes went wide at the nick name. He cleared his throat, “So, what’s your name sweets?” You gave him a curious look. “Ruhn you know my name.” “Nuh-uh. I’d remember the prettiest girl in the worlds name if she told me.” He playfully swatted at your shoulder.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Dec hurrying toward you. “If he’s being weird it’s because Ruhn has forgotten you’re his girlfriend. For the past hour he’s been asking if your single and if he should come talk to you.” Dec turns to Ruhn giving him a disapproving look. “I went to the bathroom for five seconds and told Flynn to watch him. Clearly both are poor listeners.”

You look back at Ruhn and he’s now relying on the bar to hold him up as he gives you a goofy smile. “Ahh I see. Ok you,” you take his drink from his hand and place it down far away from him, “I think it’s time we get you to bed. Good night Dec.” He gives you a friendly wave as you drag Ruhn to the stairs.

“Wait, you’re coming to bed with me?” Ruhn’s words are slurring, telling you he doesn’t even have his eyes open right now. “Yeah Ru. I always go to bed with you.” He giggles again. “Lucky meeee.”

You fling his bedroom door open and swing Ruhn on to the bed. He spreads out taking up the whole bed. Sighing, you realize it’s going to be a struggle to get him ready for bed. But you know how much he hates falling asleep in jeans.

You start pulling his boots off, then his jeans, and you finally move him into a sitting position to take his shirt off. “Hey lil miss,” his eyes slowly and unevenly blink open, “that’s for the third date. I don’t even…I ont eve have your number.”

A laugh slips past your lips but you quickly bite your tongue realizing the frown on his face. “We’re not sleeping together Ruhn. You’re going to bed.” “Ooohhhh ok.” He rips his shirt of discarding it on the messy floor and flips over to his side.

“Goodnight pretty lady.” His words come out muffled as he smushes his face deeper into his pillow. You climb in bed next to him whispering goodnight. You turn the light off and leave a sweet kiss on his head.

[starryevermore]

dumb love, i love being stupid ✧ ruhn danaan 

angst city™ library |send in a request (consultrequest faqs first)

pairing: ruhn danaan x fem!reader 

summary: you thought you had found your forever, but he wanted to keep it casual. 

word count: 2,346

warnings?: angst city™ bitch, not proofread

“So how’s it going with that one girl? Been seeing her a lot lately.”

“Eh, we’re just keeping things casual,” Ruhn said, eyeing a pretty faun from across the bar. 

You watched as his friend—Declan, you realize—arched a brow, took a long sip of his drink. Ruhn couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes as Declan said, “That why you keep bringing her around so much?”

“We both know what this is. I like her company, so I invite her out sometimes. That a crime?” Ruhn didn’t wait for an answer. He set his drink down on the bar and began to make his way to the pretty faun. 

“Guess not.” Declan looked away from his friend, eyes somehow finding yours. Despite the distance and lighting, you couldn’t miss the flash of pity. 

Before he could say anything to you, you turned on your heel, ready to leave the White Raven with whatever scraps of your dignity you had intact. You pushed through the throngs of people, ignoring the annoyed voices of those who you accidentally elbowed in the process. You just needed to get out of there. 

A hand caught your arm just as the exit was finally in sight, pulling you to a stop. “Hey! Where are you going? The fun’s just about to start!” Bryce cheered. Behind her stood Hunt, who offered you a smile and a soft “hey.”

Wriggling lose of Bryce’s hold, trying to maintain an air of playfulness, you managed a laugh. “Some of us have early mornings and can’t party til dawn.”

Bryce rolled her eyes. “Don’t be a buzzkill. Do I need to drag Ruhn out of whatever corner he’s hiding in and convince you to stay?”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you prayed neither Bryce nor Hunt could hear it. “Didn’t realize he was here. Saw Declan for, like, half a second.”

She wiggled her eyebrows at you. “So that’s a yes? Getting your boy toy will get you to stay?”

“He’s not my boy toy,” you said, “and it makes me feel icky for you to call your brother that.”

“You’re no fun!” Bryce whined. 

Hunt, either because he believed your story about an early morning or because he could sense your unease, took Bryce by the waist and slowly began to urge her away. “C’mon, this is a losing battle.”

“Fine, but you’re coming to the party this weekend, right?”

You probably weren’t, but if agreeing was what it took to get out of the White Raven without crying in front of Ruhn’s friends, then that’s what you’d do. “Duh, you think I’d miss it?”

Bryce grinned, and Hunt finally successfully urged her into the crowd to find the rest of their friends. You loosed a breath, rolled your shoulders, and made your escape. No one stopped you again, or even spared you a glance. For that, you were grateful. You weren’t sure how much more people-ing you could handle. 

Unfortunately, you did plan on making one more stop before you went home. 

Ruhn really needed a better hiding spot for his spare key. Was there anything more obvious than a potted plant by the door? It would have been laughable if you weren’t effectively breaking into his home. (Is it really breaking in if you found the key? And when the owner of said key told you where it was hidden?) 

You didn’t bother being quiet, figured that all of the home’s residents were out at the White Raven. Yet, when you shut the door, a voice had you jumping out of your skin. 

“Ruhn come back with you?” Flynn asked, leaning against the entry to the kitchen. 

You tried to steady your breathing and racing heart. “Nah. Think he’s at the White Raven with Declan. I was just swinging by to grab a couple things I left behind.” You held up the spare key for him to see. “Y’all need a better place for this than the only potted plant on the property. You’re practically asking someone to steal all your shit.”

Flynn nodded. “Cool, cool. Shout if you need anything, and try not to rob us blind, yeah?”

“Eh, I’ll leave your shit alone, but can’t say the same for Ruhn and Declan,” you joked despite yourself. 

He snorted out a laugh. “You’re funny. Shame Ruhn got to you first.”

You shrugged. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”

As you walked up to Ruhn’s room, Flynn disappeared into the kitchen. He’d probably leave you alone. As long as you don’t take a long time, probably. You didn’t plan on sticking around, though. You just wanted to grab your things and get out before Ruhn returned with that faun he was eyeing. If he thought this was casual, the last thing he would want is for you to be hanging around while he was trying to get lucky. 

Thankfully, you knew where most of your things were. A couple of shirts thrown in his closet, a jacket strewn over a chair. Some miscellaneous socks mixed in with his laundry. You grabbed your lipgloss you thought you lost from the bathroom, and the pretty hand towel you brought because there was no way in hell you were using the scratchy ones they bought in bulk. Your favorite bras, buried in the top dresser drawer. 

Once you were satisfied you got everything you cared about, you made your way out of the home, praying that you wouldn’t run into Flynn again. 

He was on the couch when you came out. He eyed the bundle of clothes in your arms. “Moving out?” he teased. 

“Getting this stuff out before he thinks I’m trying to move in.”

“You and I both know Ruhn wouldn’t mind if you did. Honestly, he’d probably be more offended you were sneaking all that shit out.”

Liar. “Eh, I need to wash all this and I don’t trust you idiots to not fuck all my nice stuff up.”

Flynn laughed, throwing his head back. “You make us sound like beasts!”

“Excuse you, I was here when your sheets were stained pink after a sock made its way into the machine, and when half of Ruhn’s clothes got bleach stains after one of you forgot to rinse out the drum,” you giggled.

Fuck, you wished you had fallen for Flynn instead. Or even Declan. They were easy to talk to, and wouldn’t make you feel like an idiot for thinking that something more than casual was going on. That was more your fault than anything, you supposed. You knew who Ruhn was when he approached you at the White Raven all those months ago. He never tried to hide who he was. You were the idiot who thought he might settle down.

“Fair enough,” Flynn laughed. “Hey, you be careful alright? Ruhn’d kill me if you got hurt after leaving here.”

You were already hurt, but Flynn didn’t know that. Didn’t need to know that. “Yeah, yeah, whatever, you mother hen.”

Flynn flipped you off as you left, still laughing. The bitter part of you thought he was laughing at you, knowing how big of an idiot you were. The more rational part knew he was just having a nice time joking around with you. Whatever. You probably weren’t going to be seeing him around much either way. 

Loud knocking on the door woke you up. When you glanced at your phone for the time, it was barely one in the morning. Several more hours until you would need to start the day, and way too late for anyone to be bothering you right. With a groan, you got out of bed, wrapped yourself up with a robe, and went to the door, fully prepared to chew out whoever was interrupting your beauty sleep. 

You yanked open the door. Ruhn stood on the other side. Whatever steam you had rising up inside you dissipated when you saw him. 

Pulling the robe closer around you, you asked, “What are you doing here?” More questions stayed locked in your mind—Why aren’t you home? Why aren’t you with that pretty faun? 

“Flynn said you stopped by to get some of your things,” Ruhn said. “Looked like you took more than a few. Just wanted to see if you were alright.”

You opened the door wider so he could see into your small apartment. You gestured to the couch, where your laundry basket sat, topped off with the clothes you took back from his place. “Was needing to do laundry,” you lied. “Wanted to make sure all my stuff got washed.”

He pouted—actually pouted. “I could’ve done that for you.”

“It’s no big deal—”

“Or you could’ve done it at my place. Throw in a couple of my things if you didn’t have enough for a load,” he continued. Ruhn took a step into your apartment. You took a step back. “I like having your stuff around.”

“It’ll all probably end up there again anyways,” you shrugged. You doubted it. Ruhn might have wanted to keep this casual, but you weren’t that sort of person. You craved intimacy, the closeness of a relationship. If Ruhn wouldn’t offer that, you didn’t see the point in sticking around. 

Ruhn’s violet eyes searched yours. You weren’t sure what he was looking for. It would probably be easier to walk into your mind than try to pick it up with context clues, but you also didn’t want him anywhere near your head. You didn’t want to hear any excuses he had. Anyways, Ruhn was good about staying out of your mind. He said he didn’t want to violate your trust. What a joke. “Why didn’t you talk to me tonight?”

“Huh?”

“Dec said he saw you, and Bryce said you two talked. I was there, too. I know we didn’t plan on doing anything tonight, but I would’ve liked for you to say something.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “Why are you really here, Ruhn? I know it’s not because I got my things or didn’t talk to you tonight.”

“Are we good?”

The scoff fell from your mouth before you could stop it. Seriously? Why did he even care? If this was casual, why did he care about your feelings? “You don’t have to pretend, Ruhn. I know you want to keep this casual.”

Ruhn blinked, slowly working his jaw. “What are you talking about?”

“If you want this to be casual, that’s fine. I mean, you wish you had told me that, but I can’t change the past. If you want, you know, company or whatever, that’s okay. But I’m not that sort of person. Let’s not let feelings get any more involved than they already are.”

Realization dawned in his eyes. It took him long enough. Ruhn was far from stupid. It didn’t make sense for it to take this long for it to all click. “You heard me and Dec.”

“And saw you with the pretty faun.”

Ruhn looked away. His jaw clenched and unclenched. “I didn’t realize you were there.”

“Does it matter that I was? I mean, if this is casual, you can flirt with anyone you want. You can fuck anyone you want.”

“Stop saying that,” he near-growled. You raised your brows. What right did he have to get upset? At you no less? Fuck, you needed to put an end to all of this. Tonight. Now. 

You couldn’t hide your own ire as you said, “Why? Only you get to call it casual? I get to sit around thinking that maybe you actually give a shit about me, that you want to stick around for the long term, but you get to sleep with half of the city. Do I have that right?”

“No.”

“No, I think I do,” you said. You reached out, started to push him toward the door. Ruhn snatched your hand and tugged you against him. “Ruhn, let me go.”

“No.”

“Let me go and get the fuck out of here.”

“No,” he insisted. It was hard to ignore the desperation in his voice, but you weren’t going to fall for any of his tricks. You fell for enough of him already. 

Tears pricked at your eyes. Godsdammit, you weren’t going to cry in front of him. He didn’t deserve to see you so vulnerable. Not anymore, at least. “I am not going to be the idiot in love with you,” you said, your voice thick, “not when you don’t give a shit about me.”

Ruhn’s eyes flashed. With what, you weren’t certain. “I fucking care about you!” he shouted. Oh, what you would’ve given to hear that just hours ago. Now, it meant nothing. 

“No. You either lied to Declan about this being casual, or you lied to me about wanting something with me. Either way, you lied. You do not lie to the people you care about.” You wrenched yourself away from Ruhn, grabbed the door, and pointed out to the hall. “Go. I won’t ask again.”

“I want to talk about this.”

You gestured into the hallway again. “I have nothing left to say. I’ve got neighbors, Ruhn, and you’re probably waking up the whole building.”

He said your name, so softly your resolve nearly crumbled. But you looked away, steeled yourself. You weren’t going to let yourself be treated like shit just for a fae who would never respect you. 

“Lose my number.”

Ruhn stepped toward you. He stopped right in front of you, brushed away a strand of hair that fell in your face. His eyes scanned over you, as if memorizing you. But you wouldn’t look at him. Couldn’t. Then he stepped through the threshold of the door, and you shut the door before he could say anything else, twisted the locks before he could try to open it.

You pressed your back against the door and sank down to the door. Face pressed against your knees, you began to cry, and you pretended you couldn’t hear Ruhn still standing on the other side. 

It was better off this way. 

[bookishbroadwaybish]

Totally crashing out, send me all your fluffier fic recs because I need them so badly right now

[rune-writes]

Horizon

Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV

Word Count: 946

Rating: G

Pairing: WoL & Thancred

Summary: In which Nayra finds solace in the horizon after the events of Aitiascope.

Notes: I'm slowly posting my ffxivwrite fics on tumblr (though I've only written 5 lol), but yea, Day 2 of FFXIVwrite2024: Horizon. For context, my WoL, Nayra, lost her family in the Calamity. She partially blames herself for it, because she's the only one who survived. She is learning to come to terms with it with the help of her friends. During Aitiascope, she heard her parents' voice urging her forward. This story is set right after.

Read on AO3.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Nayra turned around and spotted Thancred climbing the winding stairs with two large glasses in his hands. She cocked an eyebrow, lips curling into a tiny smirk. Thancred acted like he didn’t see it and instead held a glass out to her. 

“Care for a pint?” he asked. 

“You know I don’t drink.”

“Very true. Which is why Tataru sent me with another glass filled with juice instead. Apple.” He switched his hands and indeed, the new glass did look like it contained juice—if Tataru didn’t pull any tricks. Not that she would. Nayra smiled somewhat wryly before accepting the glass—one of those wooden mugs from the Last Stand. She swirled the mug, then decided to take a sip. A sharp tang of sourness with a hint of sweetness washed down her throat. Apple, indeed. 

“Thanks,” she said. 

“You’re welcome.” He took the spot next to her, leaning over the railing and resting his arms on the balustrade. 

Nayra studied his profile for a moment. She had no reason. She just… watched him. The way he gazed out the open expanse of the sea, how his pupils constricted and his brows winced when the light caught his eyes, how he brought the rim of his glass to his lips and his throat bobbed as pint—or whatever he had brought with him—went down it. It was a moment after he rested his glass arm on the railing once more that he let out a quiet chuckle and glanced sideways at her. 

“You’re gonna bore a hole in my head with the way you’re looking at me.”

Nayra blinked. She hadn’t realized. 

She cleared her throat then took another gulp of her juice. “So what brings you here?” she asked instead. 

Thancred barked another laugh. “For your information, this has been my secret place since before you came here.”

“It’s not so secret with how open it is,” Nayra retorted with a smile. 

They stood on the outermost platform of Sharlayan’s harbor—a circular half tower connected to the rest of the dock by a set of winding stairs. As open as it was, people rarely went there, except, probably, one of the Ironhearts, a family of explorers Nayra never failed to meet in her journey. Babeth Ironheart wasn’t present at the moment, and Nayra had deemed it the best place to be with her thoughts. It wasn’t that she was averse to companionship, but had Ironheart been there, Nayra might have found herself chatting with her about the places they’d visited instead—a feat now made possible with Thancred’s entrance. 

“‘Tis a good place, though,” Thancred concurred. “The sea spreads before you like a glistening sheet of diamonds; the sky expands as far as the eye could see. You don’t often see such an unobstructed view of the horizon.” He paused. “I used to come here because it reminded me of Limsa.” 

Nayra cradled her glass in her hands. She took a sip, then turned around to face the sea. “Did you used to miss Limsa?” she asked.

“I missed the chaos—the cacophony. You have to know: for a street urchin, Sharlayan wasn’t exactly my kind of city.” Nayra laughed; yes, she could see that. “The amount of headache I’d given Master Louisoix and my mentor. Though I ended up acclimating to it, sooner or later, but sometimes I’d go here when I wanted to have some peace of mind.” 

This place did have that calming quality to it, or perhaps it was only their nature to seek the open sky and open sea when their heart and mind lay unsettled. All her childhood, she had always wanted to see where the sky met the earth with neither mountains nor forests to obstruct her view. Her father had been a traveling merchant and whenever he returned home, he would show her the most exotic things he’d found on his journey. So time and again, she would ask to come with him, and she had—she, her sister, and their mother, coming along on his longer expeditions. The first time she’d beheld the sea, the width and breadth had taken her breath away. 

They’d gone to Aitiascope the night before—had met all the people she’d loved and lost throughout the years. Sometimes, Nayra liked to think that she had buried her past behind her, but the moment she heard her parents’ voices as she was making her way out of the aetherial sea, her time had stopped—enough that G’raha had noticed her halt and asked what was wrong. Tears she hadn’t realized she’d been holding trickled down one by one. She’d turned around, expecting—hoping—to see them, to catch a glimpse of them, but she found nothing in the bridge connecting the facility to the elevator. Nothing except coalescing motes of silver light. 

‘Nayra…’ 

Her breath had hitched at the familiar voice. 

‘We’re so proud of you, Nayra…’

Nayra swirled her cup once more. The sky was clear enough that she could almost see her reflection on her drink, murky and dark. 

Thancred hadn’t said anything else. He’d just sipped his pint and looked unflinchingly toward the distant horizon. No doubt he had other problems to worry about, but Nayra had a feeling she knew the real reason he was there. She chuckled to herself. 

“I should thank Tataru for bringing me the juice,” she said. “And an apology. I seem to worry everyone a lot.”

“As long as you know.” Thancred raised his glass. “You’re always there for us at our lowest. I need you to know that we’re always there for you too.”

A small smile tugged at Nayra’s lips. She bowed her head. “Thank you.” 

[slytherin-pen]

The Prince & The Popstar

pairing: Ruhn Danaan x Reader

word count: 2k

warnings: none

tags: popstar!reader, first meeting

a/n: surprise! here is part 1 to the new series i’ve been hinting at. this idea hit me randomly and i somehow managed to preemptively write the first 10 parts. i hope you enjoy!

The bass throbbed through the walls of The White Raven, each beat a pulse in the heart of Lunathion’s most popular club. Lights flickered in time with the music, bright bursts of purple and blue strobing across bodies packed tight on the dance floor. It was chaos. Controlled, beautiful chaos. The kind that could only exist in the beating heart of the city, where Vanir lost themselves to the thrill of the night.

Ruhn Danaan lounged in the VIP booth overlooking the crowd, half-lit by the glow of the chandeliers above. He’d pulled his usual dark ensemble tonight—black combat boots, worn jeans, a form-fitting black tee stretched over the muscles of his chest, and his signature leather jacket. His black hair was tied back loosely, dark strands curling at his temples. Tattoos snaked down his arms and across his neck, glinting faintly as the lights flashed. He sprawled out on the booth seat, legs wide, as if he owned the place. Like he was royalty—because he was.

The Prince of the Valbaran Fae.

Not that it meant much here tonight.

He nursed a glass of whiskey, elbow propped on the armrest, while Declan and Flynn argued about some Sunball score from earlier in the week. Ruhn tuned them out. Not because he didn’t care—well, maybe he didn’t—but because he’d heard the whisper hours ago.

You were performing tonight.

He didn’t follow pop music. Never had. But he knew your name. Everyone in Lunathion did.

The voice of an angel that sang about partying and breaking hearts over the perfect beat for dancing. You were newer to the scene, but already a rising star, your name climbing charts and echoing down the streets of the city. Rumor had it your performances were something else. Wild. Electric. Unforgettable.

And Ruhn Danaan was about to find out why.

The crowd started shifting, a hum of excitement rippling across the room like a spark catching dry leaves, and the overhead lights dimmed. The DJ’s last track faded into a slow, building beat. Somewhere backstage, a microphone crackled.

And then the screen above the stage flickered, displaying your name in glowing cursive as smoke crawled across the stage.

The music shifted.

And you walked out.

Ruhn sat up straighter, glass forgotten in his hand.

You were a vision.

Dressed in white thigh-high boots and a glittering, form fitted one-piece that caught the lights like twinkling stars, you moved like you owned the room. Like every step was choreographed to seduce the crowd, but your smile—gods, that smile—was wicked. Confident. You didn’t need them to love you. You already knew they did.

Your hair flowed behind you, wild and perfect, and your makeup shimmered with tiny gems at the corner of your eyes.

And your voice—

Holy fuck, your voice.

It cut through the air like molten gold, smooth with a rasp beneath the surface. The kind of sound that could break hearts and stitch them back together in a single verse. You didn’t just sing. You performed. Every lyric was an invitation, every note a challenge. The audience was under your spell, and Ruhn?

Ruhn was no better. He couldn’t look away. He didn’t even want to blink.

You flirted with the crowd, danced with your backup performers, and let your fingers trail across the mic stand like a caress. The song swelled, and when you hit the high note, the lights burst into flame-like strobes behind you. The crowd screamed.

Ruhn barely heard them.

He was too busy watching your hips sway, your eyes glitter as they scanned the club… and then lingered, just for a breath, on the VIP section.

On him.

Or maybe that was wishful thinking.

When the set ended, the crowd erupted. Screaming, cheering, hands thrown in the air like worship. You offered them a lazy, sultry bow, then disappeared backstage with a final wink.

Ruhn blew out a slow breath, his chest tight with something that felt dangerously close to want.

Declan was grinning beside him, already pouring another drink. “Well, shit. I get why she’s famous now.”

Flynn let out a low whistle. “She’s hot. You think she’s single?”

Ruhn didn’t answer. He was still watching the stage like you might return. Like he could manifest you with sheer will.

The afterparty began in earnest. The dance floor stayed packed, and the DJ returned to spinning popular club mixes, but now the energy had shifted. It wasn’t just about the music anymore. It was about being close to you. About maybe catching a glimpse of you at the bar, or near the booth, or brushing past you in the dark.

Ruhn leaned in to speak to the nearest bouncer—a burly male with a heavy brow and an earpiece—and handed him a sleek, black business card.

“Go find her manager,” Ruhn said over the thrum of the music. “Tell them the Prince of the Valbaran Fae would like to speak with her.”

The bouncer gave a sharp nod and disappeared into the crowd.

Flynn raised a brow. “Pulling the royalty card, huh?”

Ruhn just smirked. “Call it… diplomatic curiosity.”

And maybe something else, he didn’t say.

Backstage, your manager paced with his clipboard clutched like a lifeline.

“Phenomenal,” he said for the third time as you took a long sip from your water bottle. “Absolutely electric. They were eating out of the palm of your hand.”

You grinned, toweling off your neck. “They usually do.”

“Smug looks good on you,” he said with a smirk, then flipped a page on the clipboard. “We’ve got three interviews tomorrow, don’t forget. And the shoot for—”

A polite cough interrupted him.

The bouncer stood at the edge of the dressing room hallway, his stance official but non-threatening. “Excuse me. Are you her manager?”

Your manager—Jeremy Bell, one hundred and twenty-eight, a caffeine addict, and the only fae who could handle your schedule—stepped forward. “I am. What’s this about?”

“The Prince of the Valbaran Fae requests a word,” the bouncer said, handing him the card.

Jeremy read it, and then his brows shot up so fast they nearly left his head. “You’re kidding.”

“Dead serious,” the bouncer replied.

He turned to you, grinning like a cat who’d just been handed an entire bowl of cream. “This is huge. I mean Ruhn Danaan? That’s a headline. You spotted with the Prince of the Valbaran Fae at The White Raven? We’ll be trending in seconds.”

You raised a brow. “So… what, he wants to talk to me?”

Jeremy waggled the card. “He wants you at his table. Alone. With him.”

You blinked. “Alone?”

“Do it,” he said, practically vibrating. “I’m begging you. Five minutes. That’s all. You don’t even have to like him. But this kind of exposure—this could put you on a whole other level.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek as you looked into Jeremy’s pleading green eyes. You’d seen Ruhn from the stage—broad shoulders, dark hair, tattoos and danger wrapped up in one. He hadn’t blinked once during your performance. He had watched you like he knew you, or like he wanted to.

And okay, maybe that had thrilled you a little.

You shrugged. “Fine. Five minutes.”

Jeremy practically squealed. “Urd, bless you.”

You took your time.

Not because you were nervous, but because you weren’t. This was your element, after all. The lights. The noise. The attention.

You sauntered up the stairs to the second-level VIP section like you belonged there—because you did. Every head turned as you passed. Your outfit shimmered under the low lights, and your perfume trailed behind you like sin in the air.

And then you saw him.

Ruhn Danaan.

Gods, he looked like the dictionary definition of trouble. Leaning back in the booth, legs spread, arm slung over the back of the velvet seat, whiskey in hand. His tattoos glowed faintly in the dimness, his jaw sharp and shadowed, his eyes—

Those eyes met yours the moment you stepped into his space. Deep, electric blue. Focused. Hungry.

You tilted your head, letting your lips curl into a slow, amused smile.

“Well,” you drawled, “you went through a lot of trouble to get me up here. What if I’d said no?”

He smirked. “Then I would’ve kept watching you from afar. Probably for the rest of the night.”

You laughed, low and sultry, and slid into the seat opposite him. “Good answer, Your Highness.”

He rolled his eyes. “Please don’t call me that.”

“Alright. Ruhn.” You let the name roll off your tongue. “So what is it? Big fan? Looking to request a private concert?”

“Maybe,” he said, voice rough with something unreadable. “Or maybe I just wanted to meet the only person in this club who made time stand still.”

You blinked.

Well, shit.

“You say that to all the girls?” you teased, sipping the cocktail that had been set out for you.

“Only the ones who sing like goddesses.”

You laughed again, leaning forward slightly. “You have a type, then.”

His eyes dropped to your lips. “Maybe.”

The air between you stretched, tight with something unspoken. Something that hummed just beneath the surface, like a second bass line no one else could hear.

And you knew, right then, that five minutes wouldn’t be enough.

Not even close.

You didn’t know how long you sat in that velvet booth with Ruhn, the world outside the VIP lounge melting into white-noise. Time blurred as if the two of you were the only ones in the club.

He leaned in close as you talked, voice low, attention never straying far from your face. And you—gods, you were flirting like your life depended on it. Each laugh and brush of your fingers against his arm deliberate, each sly look returned with a smirk that said he wasn’t missing a thing.

“So,” he said at one point, tilting his head, the silver ring in his ear glinting under the club lights, “is it always like that?”

“Like what?”

“You walk out, sing a few songs, and leave the entire club dizzy.”

You smirked, swirling your drink. “Only on the nights I feel like being generous.”

He laughed, the sound rough and warm and so real it tugged something in your chest. Ruhn Danaan, Prince and Commander of the Auxiliary—was laughing with you like he wasn’t used to this either. Like something about you was unexpected.

You leaned closer, just enough that your knees brushed beneath the table. “Tell me something real, Ruhn.”

He raised a brow. “Like what?”

“Anything. No politics. No titles. Just you.”

He studied you for a long moment, then looked down at his glass before saying, “Sometimes I wish I could disappear. Just… for a little while. Go somewhere no one knows who I am. No obligations. No power.”

Your heart skipped. “Do you?”

He nodded slowly. “And sometimes, I think I’d lose my damn mind without it.”

You didn’t say anything for a second, then murmured, “You’re more complicated than I thought.”

He chuckled, taking another sip of his whiskey, and when he looked at you again, it was softer. “What about you?”

You shrugged, looking away. “I got into this industry because I wanted to share my music. I wanted to do something I loved. Unfortunately, that came with the paparazzi, and thousands of eyes on me and opinions about me at the same time. I’m grateful for my fans and my life, but sometimes I wish I could have one without the other. But I’m not allowed to complain about it, because if I do, I’m told I asked for it”

His gaze sharpened. “You’re allowed to complain about your life not belonging to you anymore.”

Those words hit harder than they should’ve. You didn’t know what to say—so you said nothing, let your fingers drift along the edge of your glass, and tried not to think about how fast your heart was racing.

Ruhn cleared his throat after a beat. “Can I have your number?”

You blinked.

His smirk returned, lazy and cocky and somehow sweet. “In case I want to see the real you again.”

You handed over your phone, ignoring the flutter in your stomach and the whisper in the back of your mind that this was only the beginning between the two of you.

[moonlitstoriess]

The Hidden Legacy- A Ruhn Danaan x Rhysands sister series

Chapter 6: No Strings

See masterlist

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.

A/n: it’s too late rn so I’m gonna proofread this in the morning. Sorry beforehand for any typos or mistakes😔

Abyss: A deep or seemingly bottomless chasm.

Seraphis leaned against the cold concrete wall, her gaze fixed on the bare, unyielding room. The flickering light overhead did nothing to warm the sterile atmosphere, but it was the only thing she could focus on.

The wards hummed, their magic vibrating through the air, clinging to the walls and floors, tightening the space around her. Three hours since she talked with Ruhn. No one else after him came to "visit". She had counted every second, every minute. But they were not the ones who controlled time in this room.

She shifted her focus to the cracks in the wards—small, almost undetectable imperfections that anyone else would miss. Seraphis knew better. She had spent far too long dismantling more complicated barriers to let these half-assed protections keep her contained for long.

"Pathetic," she muttered under her breath.

Her fingers flexed, a pulse of her magic slipping through her skin as she traced the weak spots. The hum of power reverberated in the air as she tested the strength of the warding spells, her magic flowing in a thin, delicate thread that wouldn’t be noticed by anyone outside.

Not yet, at least.

She couldn’t make her move just yet. There were no immediate holes—no glaring gaps that she could force her way through. She needed more time to study the pattern, to figure out the precise moment when it would crumble. It wouldn’t take long. But the fact remained: it wasn’t time.

She exhaled slowly, calming the tightness in her chest. The lights above flickered again, but it was nothing compared to the pulse of the wards, pressing down on her with every breath she took. This, too, was a game of patience. The more she kept pushing, the more she understood it—the ebb and flow of the magic, the cracks within the structure. A few more hours, maybe a day. She had learned to be patient in the darkest of times.

Seraphis lifted her gaze to the door, eyes narrowing as she imagined what Bryce and her team might be doing. They probably thought they had her trapped. She could practically hear their smug voices, their belief that this time, it would be different. That she would give in, surrender to their will.

But they didn’t know her. They didn’t know how far she could go to get what she wanted.

She leaned back again, her mind sharp. She needed a clear head, and right now, her options were limited. Her escape wasn’t going to happen in one grand gesture. It was going to take time, subtlety. The cracks were there; she just had to find the right moment to make them crumble.

Seraphis closed her eyes for a moment, ignoring the slight tremor of impatience curling in her gut. Time. It was always about time. And now, it was her ally. She would wait. But she would not be waiting forever.

Hours passed as Seraphis worked in silence, her magic threading carefully through the wards, searching for the next weakness. The faint tremor she’d found earlier had begun to unravel, but it required precision and patience—something she had plenty of.

A knock shattered the quiet.

Her head snapped up, magic recoiling like a whip as the door creaked open. Ruhn Danaan stepped inside, a tray in his hands. The scent of roasted meat and herbs wafted into the room, and her stomach clenched traitorously.

“You’re really committed to the whole jailer role, huh?” she drawled, leaning back against the wall as if she hadn’t been moments away from tearing the wards apart.

Ruhn set the tray on the single table, his gaze steady but guarded. “You haven't eaten anything since the moment we caught you. Thought I’d try again.”

She scoffed. “And what makes you think I’ll touch it this time? Poison’s not really my thing.”

He crossed his arms, his towering frame almost blocking the light. “It’s not poisoned.”

“Oh, of course. Because I should trust you.”

“You’d be stupid not to eat,” he shot back, his tone sharp. “Whatever plan you’ve got brewing, it won’t mean a thing if you starve to death first.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t pretend you care.”

“I don’t,” Ruhn said, though his voice was tight, his jaw set. “But I’m not dragging your half-dead ass out of here when you collapse, either. Eat.”

She crossed her arms, a smirk tugging at her lips. “What’s with the sudden concern, Prince? Worried your little captive might actually suffer?”

“Worried you’ll make this harder than it needs to be,” he snapped. “But sure—keep being stubborn. Starve. See if I care.”

Seraphis tilted her head, studying him. The tension in his shoulders, the way his gaze flicked to the untouched tray—it wasn’t concern, not exactly, but something close enough to irritate her. “Big words for someone who’s obviously not walking out until I take a bite.”

“I’ve got time,” he said, leaning against the doorframe.

“Good,” she bit back, her smirk deepening. “Then get comfortable.”

The standoff stretched, the air between them taut. Finally, Ruhn exhaled sharply, pushing off the door. “Fine. Starve, if that’s what you want. But don’t expect me to care when you start seeing spots.”

He turned on his heel and strode out, the door shutting behind him with a click.

Seraphis waited a beat before letting out a low sigh. The scent of food still lingered, and her stomach twisted again in hunger. She glanced at the tray, irritation bubbling under her skin.

But there was no time for that. She turned her attention back to the wards, her magic threading deeper into the frayed strands. The weak point was clearer now, shimmering faintly in her mind's eye.

She could work through the hunger. She’d have to. If everything went as planned, she wouldn’t be here long enough for a second round of arguments with the prince.

Seraphis crouched by the wall where the vibrations of the wards felt weakest, her fingers brushing the surface. Closing her eyes, she sent out a pulse of magic, testing the structure. The energy resisted her touch, but not completely. She grinned.

They thought they were so clever.

Seraphis leaned in closer, her magic working like a scalpel, prying at the weak link. She wouldn’t risk breaking it all at once—it would trigger the alarm and bring her captors running. But if she worked carefully, methodically, she could dismantle the wards piece by piece, unnoticed.

Her concentration was shattered by the sound of voices outside the door. She stilled, her magic retreating instinctively as she pressed her ear to the cold surface.

Seraphis pressed her ear against the cold metal of the door, straining to make out the muffled conversation outside. The wards buzzed faintly, their magic vibrating along her skin, but the threads she’d begun unraveling earlier were already working in her favor. The hum wasn’t as strong now, and faint snippets of their voices bled through.

“...not cooperating if you keep pushing like that,” a deep, frustrated voice said. Ruhn.

“She’s not going to trust us no matter what we do!” Bryce snapped back, her voice sharper than the crackle of the wards.

The hum softened further, and Seraphis caught more of the argument, her magic pushing gently at the edges of the enchantment.

“We don’t have time to wait,” Bryce continued, her words carrying urgency. “You saw what she did before we even got her here. She’s dangerous, Ruhn. You can’t deny it.”

“She’s not a damn animal,” Ruhn shot back, his tone heated, anger laced beneath the words. “You can’t keep treating her like one and expect her to talk. Back off for a second.”

There was a pause, filled only with the low murmur of Bryce’s frustration. Seraphis smirked to herself. So, the little group isn’t as unified as they want me to believe.

“Fine,” Bryce muttered after a moment, her voice softer now, though the tension in it hadn’t eased. “But don’t come crying to me when she tears this whole place apart.”

Her footsteps receded down the hall, leaving only the faint creak of shifting weight outside the door. Seraphis focused harder, her magic coaxing the weakening wards to let through more sound.

“You know I’m right,” Ruhn muttered, quieter now, almost to himself.

Seraphis leaned back against the wall, the smirk still playing on her lips. The tension in the air outside was palpable even through the fading buzz of the magic. They were unraveling faster than she’d expected—and all she had to do was sit here and let it happen.

The wards hummed softly as they adjusted, responding to her earlier tampering. The vibrations were faint now, almost imperceptible. She could feel the magic shifting, bending to her will with each deliberate push.

Her gaze flicked to the untouched tray in the corner. Hunger gnawed at her edges, but she ignored it. There were more important things than food. Survival meant freedom, and freedom meant exploiting every advantage she could find.

She crouched by the weak point she’d identified earlier, her fingers brushing the wall. The threads of magic woven into the wards were loosening, but she couldn’t rush it. A hasty tear would alert them. Instead, she sent another whisper of her magic into the cracks, testing the threads.

They trembled under her touch but didn’t break. Not yet. She leaned back, letting out a slow breath. Soon.

The faint footsteps of someone pacing reached her ears now, clearer than before. Ruhn was still outside, she realized. She gritted her teeth, resisting the urge to lash out at the door with her magic. She didn’t need their pity, their attempts to "understand" her.

She would show them exactly who they were dealing with soon enough.

For now, she waited, biding her time as the wards continued to fray beneath her quiet defiance.

--------

Ruhn was pacing back and forth in the command center back in the aux, his fingers tapping an erratic rhythm against his thigh. The weight of the situation pressed heavily on him, and every time his mind wandered to Seraphis—her cold eyes, the way she didn’t flinch when they’d locked her up—his stomach turned. This isn’t over. Not by a long shot.

He couldn’t explain it. He didn’t want to. But something about Seraphis had begun to gnaw at him. She wasn’t just a prisoner. She wasn’t some mindless threat. No, she was far more calculated than that. He felt it in his bones. But he couldn’t let himself get distracted. He needed to stay sharp. The stakes were too high.

He tried, he really tried to focus back on his work, but ever since he came back, he just couldn't stop thinking about her.

As he turned to check the status on the tracking systems, a sharp crackle came from the comm unit on his wrist. Ruhn’s head snapped to the device, his heart picking up speed.

"Ruhn," Bryce’s voice rang through, urgent, strained. “We need you. Now.”

His fingers tightened around the comm, tension spiking through his body. “What’s going on?”

“Seraphis... she’s gone.” Bryce’s voice was tight, laced with something he couldn’t quite place. She didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “The cell’s empty. The wards have been tampered with. She’s free.”

The words hit him like a blow to the gut. Gone? How?

He spun toward the door, his mind already racing through the impossible scenarios. Hunt’s voice came over the comm next, urgent and sharp.

“Ruhn, don’t waste time. We’ve confirmed it. The cameras went dark. Her cell is empty. She has to be using some kind of magic—maybe a ward-breaking spell. We’re tracking her, but it’s going to take a while.”

He took a sharp breath, forcing himself to stay calm. “How the hell did she pull this off?” His words were sharp, cutting through the tension in the room.

“I don’t know,” Hunt replied, sounding equally frustrated. “But we’re not letting her get too far. We’ve got teams mobilizing. We’ll find her. Just—”

The sound of Ithan’s voice cut through the static, frantic and fast. “She can’t have gone far. We’ll need to lock down the sectors and—”

“Don’t. Don’t lock anything down,” Ruhn snapped, cutting him off. His mind was already racing, strategizing. “We can’t spook her. If she’s playing us, she’ll make sure we close the traps too soon and she’ll slip right through.”

He could hear Bryce’s sharp intake of breath. “Then what do you suggest?”

"I don't know sis, this was your idea."

He heard Bryce sighing from the other side of the comm, "Just- just get here, bring Flynn and Declan too. We need to have a discussion. Now."

The comm clicked off, leaving him standing there, a sense of foreboding settling over him. His hands clenched into fists. Seraphis was out there now, loose in their world, and they were already losing ground.

The worst part? He could still feel it, the faintest tremor in the air, as if the wards—those infernal things—had been designed for this very moment.

She was getting smarter.

And they were running out of time.

—————-——————————————————

Taglist: @annamariereads16 @tooexhaustedsstuff @a-frog-with-a-laptop @cassie-at-college-blog @itsinherited @anuttellaa @ydubbu