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kneelingshadowsalome · 1 year ago

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I Never Missed You 2/3 (Bodyguard!Ghost x F!Reader)

Word count: 7.3 k

Tags/warnings: 18+ only. Romance, eventual smut, fluff, light angst, banter, pining, flirting, minor injuries, major character death, HFN ending. Lady/Knight dynamic. Unequal pairing trope. Bodyguard AU. Reader is a rich bitch (how else could she afford a PPO?)

Summary: You hire a bodyguard to protect you and hunt down the one who's been sent to take your life. This man was your lawyer's first recommendation, and you never even looked through his file because you had better things to do. But it soon turns out that this man – this Simon Riley – is very talented... Talented in driving you crazy.

A/N: A three part fic based on this request. Smutty smut ahead in this chapter. Brace yourselves for impact.

Part 1

You have to admit that you look dashing tonight.

And not because you want to turn people's heads at the party… But because you want him to look at you like you're the most forbidden snack he will never have.

It's selfish and petty, and you're just seeking attention. But at least you have the balls to admit it: you want Simon Riley to drool after you. You want this man on his knees. And nothing else has worked except that bra.

So you turn to the world's oldest weapon. A woman's weapon. Seduction.

"I'd suggest you keep a low profile until we're done."

He looks at you through the mirror while you finish your hair. Uses the word we instead of I. It makes your heart ache… And you take even that lecturing comment as a compliment. So he does think you look nice, or at least nice enough to stand out. You read into every look, every little tone of voice he gives you.

"I thought we were supposed to lure him in," you say while you neaten your necklace. Of course you look nice. You have done everything you can to look ravishing tonight: a deep-cut, thigh-revealing dress, cat eye makeup, red lipstick...

"Yeah but not like this."

"I'm not locking myself inside the house because of this," you announce pointedly. "I'm not afraid to live my life."

You turn and look him up and down, give him a little tilt of the head. "Don't you have anything else to wear?"

He doesn't shrink, doesn't bat an eyelash. Just looks down on you from that ivory tower of masculine prowess and makes you feel like a fool for being so dolled up.

"There's a difference between courage and foolhardiness," he states, not falling for your attempts to make him feel small in your world. You suspect there is so much more to this man, but you don't care to know about the circumstances he grew up in, the situations that gave him that broken nose and lip. You don't want to know about his broken soul.

Or perhaps you do...

"I suppose you know everything about that," you say while looking straight at the uneven scar on his jugular.

"I do."

"Tragic past?"

"You could say that."

You feel even more silly, standing before him in all your glory, pearls in your ears and silver around your neck. You pay this man for his services; he's supposed to protect you. But something in his eyes told you from the start that there lies an abyss inside this man. And you didn't pay for that: a peek inside his heart. But a door is open a creak now, and what's inside is pure darkness.

"Well, whatever it is, I'm sorry you had to deal with that."

Your cultured attempt to dance around his chasm makes those brown pools melt. Finally, he melts. But not to compassion, or mercy, or anything that would make you believe that you two understand each other.

He looks at you like you're a stranger from another planet. He's intrigued but doesn't quite understand how a creature like yourself has come to be. You're not only a child in his eyes but a coward as well for not daring to open that door to hell.

"What do you think," you hurry to change the subject. "Will I do tonight?"

He’s always so hyper-vigilant, his stare fixed on everything else but you. It feels childish, to be jealous of his attention when all he’s trying to do is protect you.

But now… Now that alert darkness bores straight into you.

"You look good in everything, ma'am."

A breeze of arctic wind goes through your scalp, and a fainting warmth settles in your belly.

You tiptoed your way to the fridge yesterday morning, before official breakfast, in your knickers and an old band merch from your youth - the one you still slept in sometimes because it was far more comfier than your silk pajamas. He walked in fully dressed and mighty while you were sneaking back upstairs with a glass of apple juice. The humiliation was overwhelming, especially when he dared to look you up and down in your state of underdress.

"Goodness… Sorry."

It should’ve been he who was supposed to say those words. But you felt like an intruder in your own house. It was a dangerous slip: to look so homely, with no brush stroke gone through your hair, with no toner on your skin. With no makeup and standing there before him in all your…you.

"No harm done."

He had never looked at you like that, and you swore right then and there that you would only descend those stairs with your full battledress from now on.

"Even in an old t-shirt…?" You ask with a tight voice. Desperate. Longing…

"Especially then."

Simon Riley strips you from your weapons and charades in a second. Your tight, seductive smile slowly falls off your face, and from behind it, a fragile, naked hope arises to gape at him. He clears his throat as if he just offered you an entire bowl full of ice cream when he was supposed to give you only a little scoop.

"I'm gonna go take a shower," he says, calm and adamant, like a statue you would go to see at a gallery.

"I'm afraid we should be going already."

"Takes 5 minutes."

You purse your lips, and he's on his way to the bathroom before you can even give him your nod. The guy is used to military showers, then, and perhaps it's for the better that he puts on at least some effort.

When he comes out, you're sitting in the hallway, and he's only wearing a towel. It's the one you gave him when he arrived, the softest you could find from your closets. You remember how the first odd thought you had upon seeing this man is that he probably isn't used to softness.

And now you see why.

You can see the prominent veins and the sketchy forearm ink, his muscles are magnificent to the point of unholy, he has a delicious, thin layer of fat on top of his belly, and the eyelashes aren't the only breath of hair that's pale on this man… But he looks like he has gone through an inferno.

His back is full of scars, and half of his shoulder looks like it has been dipped into a deep fryer. You catch a hollow dent between his ribs, and there's more, but he walks to his room before you see the rest of it.

The taxi drive to the party is filled with silence as you try to digest what you just saw. You want to call your lawyer and demand him to tell you where the hell did he find this man and who Simon Riley truly is. Who exactly does he work for when he's not taking bodyguard jobs?

But the first thing you do when you arrive at the large party held in a small palace is to go to the punch bowl and down a glassful in one go.

He's on your heels the whole night, eyes everyone with a hawk stare, and does his job perfectly. He grabs your arm occasionally and whispers in your ear if someone seems suspicious. After one and a half hours, he comes to you and practically demands that you two leave. Normally, you would start an argument, but not tonight.

You kind of want to go back home, too. The people at the party seem tedious, and his scars have reminded you that even if you live in a world where violence is not the norm, it doesn't mean that other worlds don't exist. Otherworlds - where people get shot, stabbed, and blown apart. Whipped and cut and deep-fried. You're in danger, and it took his suffering to see that.

You have been so stupid that you just about wish someone would slap you.

Simon has been so patient with you that you nearly apologize on the ride back home. You want to beg his forgiveness and confess you have been a spoiled little idiot.

But again, that's not an easy thing to do. You turn to look at your forbearing bodyguard, ever silent in the taxi, and turn your voice to silk.

"You really should smile more," you suggest. He doesn't answer, just looks out your window as if there were perils there too. You suddenly realize anyone could shoot through the glass or the door at any given time. With a proper caliber, a bullet could pierce that window and coat his black shirt with the insides of your skull.

No. No. I'm not ducking my head.

There's no one there.

"Have you ever tried?"

You turn to humor and flirt to drive those intrusive thoughts from your head. He doesn't yet know that you're afraid, that you have been afraid this whole time. You should have bought that armored car.

"Am I your most annoying client ever…?" There's a smile on your lips, a little pardon for being so infuriating. His eyes drop there, then lift back up to your eyes with surprising seriousness.

"You're my first client ever."

Well… This was news.

"Oh. Why did you accept this job?"

His stare sails away from you and back to the London night. You stifle the urge to grab his hand, a fistful of his shirt, to draw his attention back to you. Every time he's around, you feel safe; every time he looks at you, everything else ceases to exist.

You want him so badly you could cry.

"They don't teach you manners at the SAS…?"

"No. They teach us how to kill."

You scoff and turn to look through the window, too.

"Brute."

"You're entitled to your opinion, ma'am."

When you reach your house, he uses that term again. You're 110 % sure he's only trying to annoy you.

"Good night, ma'am."

"Stop it," you nearly slam your purse on the table in the hallway.

"What?"

"The ma'am thing…!"

You sound like a wife who's looking for an argument after putting on a charade all evening. When the door to your home closes, volcanoes erupt, and bombs drop, your husband-like bodyguard gets the blunt of your fear and frustration.

But how do you argue with someone who never argues back? He's calm like the Pacific during a stormless season, always, always gets calmer when you're going berserk. He walks to the armchair in your living room like he owns the whole goddamn place and sits down with a sigh.

And there is a smile playing on his lips.

"What should I call you then?"

You look at him, dumbstruck, on that chair, spreading his legs like there's no tomorrow, arms comfortably on the armrests, and mouth drawn into a genuine, peaceful, thoroughly naughty smile.

"Oh, now you're smiling," you huff. The unbelievable audacity of this man… "Some ideas on what to call me popped into your head?"

"Verily."

"Go on then."

"Nah. You should go to sleep."

"I'm not going until you tell me."

You cross your arms over your chest to underline that ruling. His smile only widens. He looks wickedly delicious in that seat with his legs spread, and the chair doesn't swallow him like it swallows you. Actually, his shoulders are wider than the back panel of this enormous chair.

"Well," he begins, "’princess' came up first."

You try to catch what he just said through the stupor of wanting to climb on that wide lap.

"Truly? How original."

"Or spoiled brat."

You stop breathing for a second, then reel straight toward a spiral of–

"How dare you?"

You notice his eyes dropping to your heaving breasts again. This man is so different from a dinner-offering, cunning man in a suit. He has no pretenses whatsoever. He looks at you with that little smile, eyes burning, legs drifting apart even more, probably his cock stirring from how you are trying to chastise him. If you had pearls around your neck, you would clutch them. Or throw them at him.

"You son of a–"

"Pretty."

His next choice renders you speechless; it cuts through your insult before it even flees your mouth. You gape at him, jaw open, breathing and cheeks burning, pussy throbbing - soaked so thoroughly now that you feel a tiny droplet cascade down your thigh.

"Yeah. That's better," the man says as if he's also blessed with a Superman stare, knowing you're seconds away from drenched. "Better than brat or princess, anyway."

The darkness conceals most of him as he settles inside that massive chair he dwarfs. You are falling, or at least that's what it feels like. A tumble, a slip inside his Styx. But there's no bottom, and the water is warm ink, despite the fact that he's so blanched.

"Pretty…?" You whisper into that water, breathe onto the surface of his depths. The darkness answers immediately.

"Very."

Your swallow is a wet, nervous roll inside your throat when you sink into that river of lust and smoke.

You take your jewels off first, because you know he doesn't care for them. Money's not his chief interest, even if he's being paid. And fat, at that. But he's not here for riches, he’s not here for the jewels – or that's what you desperately wish.

The necklace and pearls are gone soon, tucked away on the table with your trembling digits, and he's sitting there like a statue.

You have no trouble with this dress: the zipper seems to cascade down on its own as you reach behind your back. He's motionless as you slip out of the straps that keep the dark velvet up. You feel like you're the Styx: but the darkness of the river pools at your feet as you let go of the gown, let go of everything and continue your freefall.

He doesn't move, doesn't give evidence that he's even breathing; he just sits there like a long-forgotten king.

The panic snares you with a drool-wet throat: you salivate not because of him but because of your nerves.

Are you… harassing him?

Does he want this…?

At least he thinks you're pretty – and you could laugh out loud; your thoughts are vain and petty, even when you're baring yourself before him in more ways than just one. Your breaths are audible distress inside that darkness, and he's still: everything's still.

But he moves when you reach for your bra.

It's just a hand that soars through the darkness, an involuntary reach for support and gathering of composure as his fingers find his jaw. They swipe across imagined stubble before he leans his head on that hand, just an ounce's worth of weight placed on his thumb and pointer as if he's simply in his thoughts. But the hawk stare is fixed on the lace covering your breasts as it falls on the floor too.

You hear his breaths now. Quicker on the inhale, heavy on the exhale. Your thumbs slide under the hem of the last piece of your veil, something you got from the store when you were feeling down. Now the underwear makes you feel better than ever - who would’ve guessed it's the moment you slither it off? Slowly, too: you’re being a tease, hip bones giving a two-second dance for him as he continues to watch you strip before him like the queen of the night.

You breathe in sync now, and your nipples perk up – he hasn't even touched you yet and you're more aroused than ever with a man.

Not a word spoken, and you fear you’re being delusional – if you've just imagined the heat between you two, but then those legs flare a hair's breadth more. His voice is the softest whip as it crackles through the void.

"Yeah... You're pretty. Now what?"

You breathe in gusts now. It's exhilaration, damnation.

"Jesus Christ, Simon."

The chair gives a creak as he rises, like an ancient shadow. Intimidating – intense, always, always, and you've been trying to coat him with soft towels and feed him toast. You wonder if he prefers black tea simply because it tastes more bitter than coffee rounded with milk.

Does he want this? Silly softness and toast and–

You get all your answers as he bends just enough to match your height, just enough to sweep you off your feet. Your hands go around his neck on instinct as he lifts you up from your rich, opulent Styx and into his sea.

You're quiet all the way upstairs – he can't fuck you downstairs, then, has to intrude on your luxury and privacy. You don't mind, especially when the steps give a desperate wail under your combined weight. He lets it sing its music to the night: your ruining already makes so much noise.

He reaches for his gun right after he’s placed you on the mattress. The sound of it is heavy when he sets it on the nightstand that has only seen glasses of water and apple juice and perhaps a few books.

He undresses with soldierly sharpness, no seduction there. But he doesn't have to seduce you: his stare and heavy-cold demeanor have already done that.

He's so, so different from the others… Looks at you on the bed like you're both a piece of tender sirloin and something akin to garbage. That's an accurate depiction of a princess, perhaps. You know wasps gather around both honey and bloodied meat.

He looks at you like that because you know nothing. And he's not here to ruin you… he's here to insert himself inside you like you're a foe that needs to be infiltrated, plundered and burned until you understand.

He's big. Daunting. A brute while you’re the princess, could be the sleeping beauty, the way you stay immobile and try to take in this man's sheer power. You saw him half naked already when he came from the shower, but it's nothing compared to seeing all that taut, scarred flesh up close, soon about to fall upon you like a broken mountain.

And what's between his legs is wholly proportional to the rest of him. That thing is a menace, and it's not even fully erect - hanging thick between thick thighs, foreskin revealing a fat, sloping tip, and he's veined all over…

Finally, your mouth goes dry.

His gaze sweeps your beauty, and that cock gives a throb – a good, hard pull that stretches out into the open air, and your eyes go wide. Then he prowls, like the king of the jungle, moving with a fluidity that must be scary to those who meet their end by this big brute’s violence.

You are able to take in air only when his hand falls next to your head. The other claims you by the middle as if to soothe you - but the truth is you're caged in like a tiny, quivering animal.

The hand is heavy as it slopes across your stomach and scales your mound. It doesn't cup or probe, only rests there over your most sacred place, like an enemy surrounding a city. Your thighs part slowly, hoping he would just sweep right in.

"This wasn't in the deal," he rasps as he looks down at you: heavy iron judging a diamond.

"Oh shut up," you breathe, thoroughly thrilled and shy. If you weren't lying down, his intensity would buckle your knees.

"Nor do I take orders from you, ma'am."

"I'm not- Don't call me a-"

His eyes spark as the hand dips down like a deep diver into the blue. You gasp a stunned whiff when he's met with a mortifying amount of slickness. Your arousal sings a pretty song as he draws a finger over your slit, the moist sounds followed by another stuttering sigh.

"Look at you all wet," he remarks, and you grit your teeth.

“Shut…up…”

"You know why I accepted this job?"

He wrecks you with one thick finger, rough skin lathering you with your own juice like he's trying to make a point here. And he is making a point: it comes across perfectly. The princess is a filthy mess for brutes…

And of course he was given a file on you too. With more than just one photo.

"Yeah," he rasps when you only look back at him with your felled deer helplessness. You could swear that he just heard your thoughts. "I think you know."

"You're–ah– a brute," you whisper, eyes shining. Your thighs part even more, feel yourself leaking over his fingers that stroke you agonizingly slow. You swallow with hunger, the need pangs on your cheeks. Your whole body is throbbing for him.

“Sticks and stones, love.”

He's so infuriating that you could slap him. Claw him, rip him apart. But you nearly laugh instead… It's far better an option to let him claw and rip you apart. He's tearing you apart right now, with those eyes and his hand, exploring you like you're the first course and he's here for the whole dinner. How can he be so calm?

"Could you…" You start, then realize you've never begged for this man.

"Hm? Talk to me," he commands. "Whatever ya want."

You whimper – from bliss or relief, you can't tell. The frantic need to serve is fully fleshed out in his tone. It surprises you. You thought he was here for his own pleasure.

You try to think through the bliss of his fingers. You've had all kinds of things... All you could ever want, most would say. But that's not entirely true. No man has ever promised to please you however you want.

"Could you go…"

"Go down on you?" He places a thumb, broad and hard, on your clit. Teases it with the slightest pressure and a circle. "Lick your cunt?"

Fuck…

He has no trouble saying it as it is, and you nod, still helpless.

"Sure. 'N after that I'll fuck you nice and good."

He's never, ever sounded like that before. Dark, and rich, the baritone reaching a level that speaks of hunger – no, need.

A brute, a pussy-drunk brute, the blood in your veins sing as he goes down. Nothing can prepare you for the way with which he manhandles his way between your thighs like they're only a petty distraction in the way. They're forced wide apart with a tight grip that speaks of urgency, but he takes his time to admire the sight bared before him. He’s drinking you in like ambrosia, towering above you while you’re being held open for him to just observe you like you’re a center-spread girl in a filthy magazine.

"You're fucking pretty down here, did ya know that?"

You don't even know what to say - his tone, his observation is base, and still, they're the most beautiful words anyone has ever said to you.

"No…?"

"Well now ya know."

He steals a final glance at you, and the fire in his eyes already makes your legs feel weak. He dives between your parted legs, right into your leaking, glistening folds, and you're suddenly glad that you've done all that yoga… Those shoulders are so broad they force your thighs even further apart as he makes himself home there between your legs.

A hot mouth presses against you like this man has been starving, even if you've fed him the best delicacies for days. An even, fat stroke is the first thing you feel before your toes curl and your head falls back.

"Goodness, Simon..." You try to keep yourself from stuttering as his mouth opens you like a flower. You should be quiet, for once, and let him do the job. He seems like an expert, even and especially there between your legs. "Do you-ah, always shag your clients?"

"Told you you're my first," he rasps a husky sigh on your folds. He could ruin you with that voice alone.... He gives you another sweep of his tongue, full and ample, and your fingers curl around the sheets, your hips buck; your ass drives up on instinct, trying to both escape his mouth and rub your pussy against those thin but eager lips.

"Don't worry," he tells your pussy with a warm chuckle. "This is free of charge."

You sigh, the first laugh of many up into the air. You're supposed to get angry, but you can't. You can't.

"Have… no words for you."

"Good. It's about time you stopped talking, love."

He grabs your hips to punctuate it that you should indeed shut up. Fingers sink into your flesh like you're a whole goddamn feast - no more fucking toast and teasing. His hands look so huge as they dig into your skin - so different from the hands of men who work in offices or wait for people to serve them. You upvoted those hands to be the best part of this man long ago.

And that bulk of muscle… Some of those men in suits might go to the gym, but they couldn't forge a body like his in a million years: that breathtaking mass built to work and endure harsh conditions. It's not a flex or a sculptured piece of art: it's simply survival - ancient and primal.

He's got darkness, and you got diamonds, but something tells you his depths are infinitely more valuable. You couldn't buy his intensity even if they sold it in the streets. The skull mask was self-made, everything in this man is self-made, and he's sampling what diamonds taste like, and you wonder… Does he think you're cheap, some fake piece of worthless junk? Does he laugh at how easy you are? That under your manners, you're only a spoiled brat and a promiscuous maneater…? Or that he couldn't care less, as long as he can push his cock inside you?

He gives you his best, that's for sure. A working man, with you as his assigned mission, and the feeling of being a spoiled little princess only increases. And how are you supposed to stay still if he's slow and attentive like that? You might be his first client, but you're not his first shag…

His lips seal tightly around your nub, suck it, lap it, sigh on it - he's already breathless from the need to make you moan and cum. A purpose-driven, ravenous man, and when he dips his tongue inside your cunt, your mind finally goes blessedly blank. Your legs shake and stretch, and you can’t prevent your hand from skimming down to grab his hair when he gives you deep, unhurried plunges with his tongue, huffing against you from the mad want to make you feel good.

You would never have guessed that Simon Riley would get such pleasure from licking a woman.

One hand disappears from around your thigh, and you guess it's one of his fingers that arrives, wide and thick, to tease your entrance. You can feel the smile on your folds as he slips it in, making you nearly jolt on the sheets. Your fingers instantly curl to tug that pale hair, to grab hold of something, and it makes him rumble inside you.

He doesn’t even wait for you to catch your breath as he adds another finger. Goes shallow at first, then pushes those fingers in to the knuckle. The feeling of being filled - and not being filled enough - is going to drive you crazy any second now.

"Simon…"

"Yeah?"

“I want you to… want you to…" you hear yourself choking on your beg as he works those fingers in and out of you while his lips are tight around your clit. He knows exactly what you're trying to ask.

And suddenly, it's he who breaks…

"Right. 'M gonna fuck you now, yeah?"

The spread is gone, and you're being moved - on your belly, and you briefly think whether it's because he can't bear to look into your eyes when he takes you. You don’t even have time to whimper from the loss of his fingers and mouth before heavy thighs force your legs aside. You’re being spread again, crudely, obscenely, like it’s just a procedure that has to be done. He’s both methodical and impatient, and you wonder - has he wanted to rail you like this ever since he saw you? Force you to lie down on your belly while he takes you from behind like a helpless damsel?

His hands come to your hips as if to make sure that you won’t run away from under him. As if you ever wanted to…

Something far fatter forces its way between your folds and straight onto your opening. He glides over your folds a few times, spreads your wetness all over his tip. Methodical still, but it makes you moan and swallow.

"Jesus…"

The lathering stops, the jutting cock settles right where your depths lie, and he chuckles. "Not quite, love."

Fuck…

Fuck this man's cheek and audacity. Fuck his size and pride, the way he knows what he's doing all the fucking time.

“Desperate for it?”

That stupidly fat cock just resides there, teasing your aching, leaking hole without going in. But it’s like he answers his own question because you feel the thick of him give a notch against your folds. So impatient. Thoroughly needy. It sends you further down the whirpool of desire, a searing white, fathomless deep..

“Yes..”

When he goes in with a leaden grunt, your muscles go into a spasm - he's too big, he hasn't prepared you right, and still, you force yourself to relax.

"Not what you expected?"

"It's… too much," you admit. He stops, realizing that for once in his life, he might've been an impatient man. Then he crawls forward, and you feel like you're about to be buried under a boulder as his weight bears down on you. Hands sink into the mattress on both sides of you, forcing you further up against him - you're floating, almost, to where you belong.

"Yeah? C'mon… You can take it."

You shudder. It's not even fully in yet?

He speaks too softly for it to be a demand, even when he's hovering on the brink of wanting to simply ram himself into your cunt. It's an encouragement. He’s cheering you on, like a coach. Or a leader... It’s leadership.

When you don't object, he starts to feed more of himself in. You try to remember how to breathe because you were wrong, you were so, so wrong - it was barely just the tip, and now you're stretched wide and tight. He's endless, and sinking in deeper, deeper….

And you want it so much - all of him- you want to grip him and never let go. One hand comes to sweep over your hip again, it caresses the swell of your ass, and you know he's looking down at how well you can take him after all.

"How are we doin'?"

Your lips are swollen, and your brows are creased tight. It's still not in…?

You’re fucked. Literally. But you can take him... You must.

You whimper when he slows down almost to a halt.

"Love. Tell me to stop 'n I'll stop."

"Just–gently," you whisper, brittle and shivering from joy.

"Don't worry. I got you."

Slowly, he arrives to the end of him and you. Hips flesh against yours, he’s out of breath before he even starts the thrusts. His length caresses places unfathomable in this position, and his weight is crushing you, even when he's supporting himself. It only feels like the safest place to be. Trapped there between your safe, soft bed and his safe, hard body.

The first thrust punches the air out of your lungs. It doesn’t hurt, and it’s not uncomfortable; it’s just too much to take. You’ve never been so filled.

"Fuck…" He swears, somewhere between the third or fourth thrust. "You're…"

"Good…?" You offer him when he doesn't continue. You know he was possibly going to say tight or something crude like that and corrected himself before it spilled. He merely grunts as an answer - a barbarian through and through, you decree. And then the brute speaks…

"The best."

God. You feel like a diamond after all, but you've never been under so much pressure, fearing you might break.

"You-too…" It's a sad little mewl. You sound like a child trying to make friends. Latching a hook on him, no matter how tiny it is. One shake, one ripple from the behemoth, and it will fall loose.

"Don't go lying with that pretty little mouth," he warns.

"I'm not lying."

"Yeah…? Keep squeezing me like that and perhaps I'll believe you."

It's a strange feeling, to meet your mistrust and jealousy on him. He has no pretenses, but he has secrets, camouflage, and flash grenades that blind you from the truth. But even he can't hide it all when he's moving inside you, so close, so terribly close.

You melt into a pool of heat and want, trying to meet him midway by offering your cunt, arching your spine, driving yourself up to give him better access. What was possibly meant as a desperate fuck turns into a sweet, weightless rocking, a rhythm of him and you. The hands on your hip start to gain weight as he holds you still for him, at times even pulls you against his cock.

"C'mon… wanna hear you," he huffs, then slides one hand to your butt and gives it a fond squeeze when you won't instantly make noise. "You're always givin' me that cheek and now you're silent?"

It's a warm question, a thick baritone that settles into your stomach, then shoots downwards and makes you clench.

"Wh-what do you want me to say?"

"Want you to sing."

Of course the man who never talks won't shut up in bed. But he's not bullying you into submission, nor is he being mean. If anything, he sounds like he's finally on his knees.

And you don't want to be mean either. Not anymore. But you just can't help yourself from having a little fun now that he's finally desperate and inside you.

"Make me," you whisper, delivering your cheek with a wicked little smile.

The response is immediate: he dares to land a flat palm on your ass. Like you're a broodmare, a sirloin steak for him to feast on. And it does the job: you almost shriek, or at least that's how it sounds like when a parched little whine pushes through your vocal chords with violence.

"That's better," he barks, pleased with his work.

"You're horrible," you gasp. You're glad he put you face down on a pillow: you can only hope he doesn't see how happy you are in the darkness of his night.

"Yeah? And you're sweet."

It's said with gravel wrapped in silk. It hits you and ignites, starts a flame inside you without permission.

You want him in ways you shouldn't. You want… more breakfasts, him carrying you up the stairs, taking in the way you tip-toe around the house in an old t-shirt. You want to serve him back rubs and tea and see who he is when he's not being paid. You don't want a lap dog or a guard dog, you simply want...

Simon.

"I'm– I'm sorry that I've been such a bitch," you whisper. He sinks back on top of you until his nose nuzzles the back of your ear. He leans on his elbows, trying not to break you into too many little pieces, but the feeling of being confined couldn't be more blissful.

"Cock's that good?" He drags the following thrust, sparking your nerves aflame as he hits your core. But it's not brutal; if it is, it's the sweetest wrecking you could ever have imagined.

"Don't make me take my words back," your lips pull to a smile and a silent, inner laugh.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

He's smiling too. Inwardly, perhaps, but you can hear the mirth. His weight on top of you while you're lying under him on your belly, unable to move, unable to do anything other than take the full brunt of his cock as it spreads you open, is pure heaven.

"Want you to cum when I'm inside you," he rasps in your ear, lips brushing the underside of your jaw. "Think you can do that, princess?"

Being told to cum on command is a bit ridiculous, you think. But not when it comes from that Cockney mouth. Not when he asks so nicely. Your cunt pulls, claws at him.

"... I'll show you princess," you sigh, but it's only a second away from laughter. His fingers dig into your skin, the flush flesh of your ass. It feels possessive… Fond.

"Yeah. Show me. C'mon."

The camouflage gets slightly torn off by a wind of a smile. You can hear it on his lips. Sex should be fun, one of your friends always says. You had never thought about it like that. Bed is not the place for laughter and humor, you had thought. But now you are both on the brink of bursting with it.

"You're a fucking pretty one…" He grunts: a breathless, silent joy. "Know you want this as much as I do. Ain't that right?"

"Yes."

"That's what I thought. So cum for me. Wanna hear the sounds you make."

You dance on the precipice already, and his voice causes your hand to shoot out to his. You drag that heated palm across your hips and your ribs, curl it next to you as if you were drawing a blanket over youself. It's a lover's caress, and his fingers slip between yours as he wraps around you like the protector that he is.

Your walls flutter, the thickness inside you makes you swell with every thrust. His hips are relentless as he buries himself into you with blunt force, his flesh clapping against yours and making your cunt clamp down on him. Sweet, sweet, sweet, your blood sings as your lids drift closed. The wave is coming, the final tsunami that will sweep you with it, and you will only succumb with joy.

"Don't-stop," you hear yourself beg through the heavy pants he's grunting on your neck.

"'M not gonna stop," he grunts into your ear, serious now.

"Fuh–Fuck me good and… hard," you're hiccuping through dry tears. It feels like there's a hammer and an anvil placed between your ribs. "I need you hard-"

"Shit…"

You barely grasp that he's about to lose his precious control before the midnight sea takes you under. The world fades into a tight know of blue and white and black, electric, ambient, something soft and hot at the same time. You're choking on your tears, moaning into the pillow like a poor, broken, tortured cat.

"That's fucking pretty," he swears on your neck as you cum. All humor is gone now, but he's not mocking you. He's just… emotional. The bulk of him rides you through the wave, but the rhythm of his hips becomes erratic.

"That's it, pretty… I'm gonna…Fuck," he huffs on your skin, a mist of want, and the cockhead rubs something profound inside you and makes you jolt in the middle of your molten euphoria. He grunts, swears, and does it again - bludgeons so deep it forces out a sob, just before he breaks too with a choked, wet swallow and a groan. A trembling colossus, you think, as he thickens and bursts inside you.

You're an aching mess when he comes, his thighs pressing over yours and forcing them far and wide as he buries himself into you to the hilt. He's a behemoth, spasming and crumbling right above you. The broad abs bunch against your back while his hips pin you down and spread you open. The cock pulses inside you, and you are barely able to think how it's a miracle that both his thick flesh and the pool of cum, all of it, just somehow fits there inside you…

A gentle brute until the end, he swallows again, thick and breathless, before giving a few tight rolls of his hips, emptying himself to the last drop. Slowly, you both still inside your bubble of warm, dark blue, something akin to a sea between a tropical storm and a calm sunrise, a drowsy reef shifting with the waves.

He's broken into a light sweat from the toil when he finally untangles your fingers. Your hips are kept in place with one hand as he slowly pulls out. You feel like you're left emptier than before, even if you feel the cum welling up inside, about to spill over.

Your bodyguard - your late-night fuck - collapses beside you, then reaches to pull you close again. Still back against his chest, still unable to look into your eyes when you're both vulnerable.

"I'm gonna get you a towel," his fingers tremble as he caresses your arm with the most delicate touch.

"No–don't, don't go," you whisper, then grab his hand and bring it back over you. You almost squeeze yourself with it. "Please?"

The tension behind your back decreases as he slowly falls back into bed.

"Alright love. I'll stay right here."

It's so peculiar how he reminds you of large water masses. A night sea under a pale moonlight. Not a stormy, roiling one, just a vast depth in an ever-swelling motion.

"I want… I need you to keep me safe," you whisper inside that swelling sea. You never want to come to the surface. You want to learn to breathe underwater. The heavy arm is draped over you; it covers nearly half of your chest as he sighs.

"Then let me do that."

His plea is not humble - nothing in this man is. He's not on one knee, swearing his allegiance and vowing to always protect you. He's not your Lancelot.

But in a way, his plea comes far too close to a beg. You feel a sting near your heart. It's electric, pure pain - the sweet kind, though, as you realize he doesn't only want to do his job… He wants to protect you. He has already tried his best to protect you while you run around like nothing is wrong.

"Simon… I'm sorry."

"I already forgave you," he hums on your skin, evidently glad that you two finally understand each other. It should send you laughing, the thought that you needed his scars and his…treatment to find common ground. And free of charge, no less.

"Do you still wish you were somewhere warmer…?"

He bows his head against the nape of your neck, and the gush of air from his nose is warm and jovial. "No."

It's hours till dawn, but you wish it would never come. The beauty of the night is only now unfolding before you. It feels far more safe than the violent dawn. You wonder how he would react if you moaned his name as you cum. If he would shudder. You wonder what the hell is wrong with you that you didn't already do it...

"Simon…?"

"Mm..?"

"What happens now?"

There's a pause, but he doesn't shift for more comfort. Still, the bullet vests and battle gears are back on; you just sense it.

"We're gonna get some sleep."

"No, I meant… What does this mean for us?"

"What do you think it means?"

Now he shifts, but only to draw you closer. You feel like jello as he pulls your scent deep into his lungs, then exhales the grace on your skin like you're the only tobacco he needs after a good round of sex.

"Don't worry about it, princess," he murmurs on your skin. So delicately that you could claim this man has never even seen the army, never barked and shouted and smoked his throat dry. "We'll talk in the morning."

You settle into his sea, an embrace full of gentle, heavy safety. It's the sweetest oblivion to slip in as you begin a dreamless sleep, soft and snug. But it's not merciful enough to make you forget that you two…

You never even kissed.

............................................

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t-lostinworlds · 11 months ago

Text

Treasure Be Damned | Nathan Drake

》 PAIRING: movie!nathan drake x female!reader

》 TROPE/GENRE: childhood best friends to lovers; angst; fluff

》 SUMMARY: Nathan wished it didn't take something drastic to happen for him to finally realize what he felt for you. And no matter how much that gold was worth, you will always be his greatest treasure.

》 WARNINGS: both are orphans (mentioned), tech genius!reader, protective!nathan, switch pov halfway thru, kinda canon divergent (a.k.a. i made slight changes to some scenes from the movie), pining, jealousy jealousy, idiots in love, some angst, kidnapping, canon level violence, injuries, love confessions and a cute fluffy ending.

》 WORD COUNT: 5.4k+

A/N: hello! me again with another fic. this may seem super random but this was commissioned by the lovely @theslayerofthevampires ! thank u so so much hun <3 my first ever commission btw. trying to stick to a certain word count was actually quite interesting to me alskalsk but this was fun to write and i hope i did it justice!

+ also i couldn't think of a better title and the summary is kinda cheesy but we love cheese in this house so alksalkslaks

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

You and Nathan had been best friends for as long as you could remember.

When he punched a guy twice his size all because they made you cry on your first day at the orphanage, he quickly gained your trust and loyalty. It was reciprocated when you dumped all your lunch on a kid when they poked fun about why his brother left him.

You two had been inseparable ever since.

Nathan was protective of you, and you were protective of him.

As years passed, that protectiveness only grew tenfold. With it came the care and affection that went from strictly platonic to something warmer, sweeter.

For you, at least.

You couldn't pinpoint when it started, all you knew was that everything Nathan did for you suddenly felt special—like it was solely for you.

The change wasn't outright. It was a slow realization, when the little things he did made your heart grow warmer and beat faster all the same.

At first, you thought it was a simple crush—a silly phase, that with time, it would fade.

But no.

As months moved to years, it went from something that lingered to something you couldn't escape from.

The moment you truly figured that what you felt about him wasn't as simple as an adoration for your best friend was on your eighteenth birthday.

Nathan had spent all the money he saved from working odd—and honest, he made sure to make that known—jobs on a silver necklace.

Maybe you watched way too many romcoms, maybe it was all in your rose-tinted head, but there was an underlying romance in the way he stood behind you, so close and warm, as he put the necklace on for you.

With bated breath, you let him, trying your best not to melt over his simple touch. His fingertips brushed against your skin so delicately but felt electric in all the right ways.

You only regained your breathing when he finally stepped back. Yet he took it away a moment later when he gently tapped the charm—shaped like a compass—sitting between your collarbone, a fond smile on his lips when he said,

"So you'll always find your way back to me."

How could you not fall in love?

What a cliché.

Falling in love with your childhood best friend.

It would've been cute if it was reciprocated.

But whatever he saw you as was strictly platonic.

You were constantly reminded of how unrequited your love was with the hook-ups he brought back to the apartment.

You had agreed to be his roommate to help lessen the expenses. Even though you had only recently moved in together, you were starting to doubt if it was a good idea—for your heart's sake, anyway.

It didn't even stop there.

Because here you were once again, sporting an ache in your chest as you watched him flirt with a blonde girl at the bar.

As much as you enjoyed visiting him at work, seeing him flirt with the pretty customers regularly will always leave a bad taste in your mouth.

Jealousy.

A feeling you shouldn't be entertaining in the first place. You were just a best friend. You had no right to go all green-eyed whenever you saw him with another girl.

Nathan Drake wasn't yours.

You didn't even realize that you were too deep into your thoughts until a familiar voice brought you out of it.

"You okay?"

You blinked, looking up to see Nathan regarding you with brows furrowed in concern.

"Huh?"

"You've been glaring at that thing for a good minute now," he explained, nodding at the personalized cocktail he made for you.

He always did that whenever you stopped by, experimenting with new mixes he thought you'd enjoy solely based on how well he knew you. You give him your honest feedback in return. It was your own little game.

"Is it bad?"

"No, no, no," you said, taking a sip before smiling. "I liked it."

"Just 'like', damn. I need to step up my game," he sighed in feigned disappointment. When you didn't react as much, he added, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Nathan looked at you for a moment, lips pursed as he shook his head.

"You're such a bad liar."

"I'm not," you scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes. "You just know me so well."

"I do," he hummed, grin turning proud. "I also know when something's bothering you so, what's up?"

"Girl things." You shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. You could tell it confused him, because he was never uncomfortable to talk about those topics with you. But before he could even question it, you quickly added, "I think I'm going to head home first. You didn't forget your keys, right?"

"That was one time," he grumbled, eyeing you for a moment because he obviously didn't buy your excuse. A second later, he sighed, "Yeah, I got my keys."

"Okay, See you later," you said, gathering up your things before walking towards the door.

"Let me know if you get home safe," he called out.

You only threw him a salute in response.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

It was the harsh light from the huge window in the living room that woke you up.

You must have fallen asleep on the couch in the middle of watching your comfort movie—a poor attempt at trying to distract yourself from your lovelorn predicament.

Who knew dealing with feelings could be so exhausting?

It was the smell of bacon that coaxed you out of your cocoon, though.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Nathan greeted as soon as you stepped into the kitchen. He threw you a warm smile over his shoulder before he continued making breakfast—shirtless, might you add. "There are painkillers beside your water in case your neck is killing you. I would've carried you back to your bed but you kick in your sleep and I've learned my lesson so…"

It did happen once.

He was trying to coax you off the couch and back into the comfort of your bed. But as he got closer, your leg having a mind of its own when you were deeply asleep, you kicked him straight in his jewels—his words, not yours.

The loud thud of him falling on the floor didn't even shake you awake, not even when he was groaning in pain.

You couldn't even remember any of it.

"How many times do I have to apologize for you to let that go?" you chuckled, settling at your usual seat at the small dining table you had.

"Not enough," he snorted. "I still feel the phantom of the kick, you know."

"You're so dramatic." You rolled your eyes, glancing around only to catch a glimpse of that old yet familiar green trunk. It was then you noticed some of his old stuff littered around, trinkets and memorabilia he hadn't looked at in a while. Just as you were about to question him about it, you saw the excited look on his face. You narrowed your eyes, asking, "Did I miss something?"

"Quite a lot, actually," he chuckled, sauntering over to you with your breakfast for the day. Putting the full plate in front of you, Nathan leaned down and quickly kissed your forehead. "Eat. I'll tell you all about it."

You ignored the phantom of his lips on your skin.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

A treasure hunt.

Nathan dragged you into a treasure hunt.

You didn't trust this Victor Sullivan guy, but Nate seemed to be adamant about finding this gold in hopes of finding Sam too. And you trust your best friend's judgment so that made Sully a friend of your best friend, much to your dismay.

"Do I look okay?" you asked, straightening out your long, black evening gown as you emerged out of the makeshift changing room.

When you didn't hear an answer, you looked up to see Nathan staring at you with a certain look in his eyes.

Your face warmed. "What?"

"Okay?" he scoffed, shaking his head as if he was offended by the word you used. With a gentle smile, he gestured at you with both hands. "You look beautiful."

"Thanks. You don't look bad yourself," you responded with a shy smile, unable to hold his gaze for much longer. You fixed your entangled necklace, instead.

"Here, let me," he said, quickly walking over to you to straighten it out, his touch featherlight against your skin. "It's a gorgeous necklace. The guy who gave this to you has good taste."

"If good taste means licking his own ass, then, it's a bit questionable."

"Okay, gross," he playfully grimaced. "All I'm saying is that I picked the right one for you."

"You did." You smiled fondly.

"Perfect," he hummed with a smile, his gaze slowly trailing from your necklace up to your eyes, his next words barely even a whisper. "You're perfect."

You didn't know if it was even meant for your ears but you could only stand there, staring into his brown eyes that seemed to shift from one emotion to another.

Nathan was about to say something when Sully came out of nowhere with that grumpy look on his face.

"Why are we bringing her again?" he asked as if you weren't standing in front of him.

"She's a genius with computers," Nathan said, a bite in his tone. "She's going to help us get through any security tech easy breezy."

Sully narrowed his eyes between you two before shrugging.

"Fine," he grumbled, looking you up and down before walking away. "We leave in ten minutes."

"I don't think he likes me very much," you sighed once the door shut.

"I don't think he likes anyone," Nathan said, smiling at you reassuringly. "Don't take it personally."

And you didn't. Truly.

But when you got to the auction house, it definitely felt more personal when the old man wouldn't tell you anything.

No communication. No updates. No information. Nothing.

Only when you ask Nathan directly were you able to get a grasp of what was going on or when to proceed to the next step—if he wasn't distracted.

With the countless pretty ladies dressed to the nines, you best believe he wasn't anywhere near focused.

You were angry because this was a dire situation. One wrong move could get you guys caught. You were too goddamn young for prison.

You definitely weren't bitter over something else.

"Do you always feel the need to flirt with anything that walks?" you spat when he finally reached the door you'd been trying so hard to keep open without getting caught. It took him three minutes more since he was busy chatting up some random trust fund girl.

"I wasn't—Jesus," he grunted, the door hitting him on the way as you walked past it.

You couldn't be bothered to wait anymore. You didn't look back and simply sped walk towards the power switch.

"You're upset," Nathan said once he caught up with you.

"I'm not upset," you grumbled. "I'm annoyed."

"It's the same thing."

"It's fucking not."

"Okay, geez," he conceded, pouting, "What'd I do?"

"What aren't you doing?" you asked sarcastically, harshly tapping on your phone as you tried to decode the security lock on the main switch. "Oh right, focusing on your job!"

"Christ, do you two always bicker like an old married couple?"

"Shut up!" you and Nathan barked synchronously.

Shaking your head, you calmed yourself, punching in the security code.

"Look, I'm sorry, alright? I was just trying to scope potential—"

You glared at him.

"I'm shutting up."

"Just do your thing. I want this over and done with," you grumbled, stepping aside once the circuit box finally opened.

"You're a genius," he praised with a smile, placing a quick kiss on your forehead. "Thank you."

"Whatever."

You wished you could say everything went smooth sailing from there, but when did it ever?

Everything happened so fast.

One minute you two were walking out of the control room, the next you were being chased down but huge men.

Running in heels was not fun.

And then it was a blur, someone grabbing your arm in a way that made you scream in pain to Nathan tackling the guy to the ground, landing blow after blow to his face until blood started to splatter on the suit he was wearing.

"Touch her again and I'll kill you."

You'd never seen him so angry before.

But that anger quickly disappeared when he fussed over you, hands soft against your cheeks yet the panic and worry were evident in his eyes.

It took several 'I'm fine's and a couple more reassurances that you weren't badly hurt to get him to fully calm down and help you up so you could get out of this place.

Unbeknownst to you, there were curious eyes watching everything closely with a knowing yet wicked smile on her lips.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

You thought the feeling of being outcasted was only a small blip at the auction house.

But you were so wrong.

"What happened to you?" you asked when he finally met up with you at the church in Barcelona, soaking wet from head to toe.

"Long story."

"So you brought your girlfriend with you" A girl—Chloe, you later learned—suddenly appeared.

"She's not my girlfriend," Nathan quickly corrected.

Yes, it was true.

But the way he shut it down so quickly as if the thought made him hurl made the sting harsher.

It didn't take long for you to notice how Nathan seemed to be following Chloe around a lot.

So much so that you were becoming more of an afterthought.

They were always conspiring amongst themselves. It was in their line of expertise, you supposed, and you were just the tech girl. But it wasn't like you were clueless about it. Nate has told you enough stories for you to get the gist of what was going on.

It was getting pathetic, trailing behind them like some puppy, wanting to feel included.

When Nathan argued with Sully that you were not leaving his side when it was time to split up, you could only laugh at it now.

What was the point when you were immediately alone when you got into the tunnels?

Even more as you stood by yourself at the club, watching him dance with Chloe, so close, in the guise of blending in.

Maybe if you weren't distracted you would've noticed the man sneaking up behind you. You would've been able to run before he could grab you from behind, hand over your mouth as he started dragging you backward. And maybe you were quite good at kicking someone's jewels when you hit the jackpot the first time, enabling you to escape and scream for help.

You were yelling Nathan's name, but it was the loud gunshot that caught his attention.

It was heartbreaking to think that it took you getting shot in the leg for him to fully acknowledge you.

You were overwhelmed with too many emotions that you became numb, simply letting them take you back to the safe house in silence.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as he sat by your temporary bed, carefully wrapping the bandage on your thigh after he cleaned it. Thankfully, the bullet was only meant to slow you down, not kill. "I'm supposed to be looking out for you."

"It's fine," you sighed. You knew he was being sincere. He looked thoroughly distraught when he saw you drop to the ground. You knew it wasn't his fault, and you knew he was already blaming himself enough. But with the pain and bitterness—both physically and emotionally—you couldn't stop it. "You were busy. I get it."

He frowned. "What's with that tone?"

"There's no tone," you grumbled, avoiding his gaze.

"You're annoyed."

You shook your head. "I'm not annoyed.'

"So…you're upset," he hummed, reaching for your hands. You pulled away, carefully getting comfortable on the bed.

"I'm going to sleep," you sighed, pulling the covers over you.

Nathan got the hint, standing from his seat with a sigh, "Okay, goodnight, just…call me if you need anything."

So when you woke up in the middle of the night when a sudden sting went up your leg, you quickly yet carefully got out of bed to look for him.

You wish you hadn't bothered.

The last thing you wanted to see was him and Chloe getting cozy on the balcony, a bottle of wine between them.

You figured you weren't important enough to interrupt their moment. Besides, the ache in your leg couldn't compare to the absolute pain in your heart. It only intensified when they started leaning toward each other.

So you quickly went back to bed, tainting the pillowcase with salted tears.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

"Here." Nathan kneeled in front of the foot of the bed, tying your shoelaces for you. "So, I've been thinking…"

"Uh oh," you joked.

"Maybe you should sit this one out."

Your smile quickly got wiped off your face.

"What?"

Nathan glanced at the door. You followed his gaze, catching a glimpse of Chloe before she hurriedly walked away.

You pressed your lips, nodding in understanding.

"It's not what you think it is," Nathan placated.

"Sure it's not," you scoffed.

"Look, you're injured and—"

You stood up, abruptly cutting him off. You grabbed your bag, limping around the room as you gathered your stuff.

"Woah careful, your wound is still fresh," Nathan followed you around, arms out in case you stumbled. "What are you doing?"

"Leaving. That's what you wanted, right?"

"What? No!" he rushed, hands on your shoulder, stopping you. "What I meant was, you need to recover first."

"Right," you scoffed, shrugging him off before you continued packing. "Because it's going to be dangerous and you're looking out for me, trying to protect me and all that bullshit."

"It's not bullshit!"

"You know, after all we've been through, I thought I could count on you to at least be honest with me," you said bitterly.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," you pressed, harshly zipping up your bag. "If you wanted me out of the picture, you could've just said so."

Shaking his head, he argued, "That's not it."

"Maybe," you said, looking him straight in the eyes. "But fewer people, more gold to go around, right?"

That rendered him silent.

"You've known me your whole life," he started, hurt flickering in his irises. "You really think I'd do that to you?"

"I don't know anymore, Nate." You threw your hands up exasperatedly. "Because ever since you met them, I barely recognize you anymore. You've been wanting their approval so bad you're getting desperate for it.

"And I always thought that when we get the chance to find this treasure, we'll do it together, side by side like we always do. But all I've done this whole time is be a third wheel to whatever this is." You gestured at him and the door, laughing sarcastically. "Fourth, if you include Sully."

"That's not true," he argued weakly, realization dawning on his face.

"You whisper among yourselves, nobody tells me a fucking thing, you don't even tell me anything anymore! I'm always left chasing after you because you couldn't be bothered waiting for me to catch up. Fine, I might not know everything about this treasure but it'd be nice to get filled in every once in a while instead of leaving me clueless! Hell, you're starting to forget you brought your best friend with you—"

"I didn't forget about you—"

"You didn't even notice I was getting dragged away until I was shot!"

Nathan looked away.

"All of you are always excluding me and it sucks," your voice cracked, blinking away unshed tears. "And don't think I didn't see you conspiring with Chloe last night."

He looked confused. "Last night?"

"When I came looking for my best friend for help because my leg was hurting like a bitch but I didn't want to be a cockblock so, you're welcome."

"You're not—" Nathan cleared his throat, shoulders slumping, looking at you apologetically. "Y/N…"

You shook your head, harshly wiping at your eyes, putting your jacket on. "The more it goes on, the more I think that you just brought me along because it was convenient for you. Now that I'm considered a liability, gotta leave the extra baggage right?"

"That's not fucking true!" he gritted, pulling his hair frustratedly. "You're part of this as much as I am!"

"Right. Where are we going next?"

Nathan blubbered like a fish out of water.

"That's what I thought," you scoffed, slipping your backpack on.

"Wait, dammit," he cursed when you walked past him, chasing after you into the living room. Frustrated, he called out, "All I'm asking is for you to sit this part out because you're hurt."

You stopped, slowly facing him.

"I never thought that the loneliest I'd ever feel is when I'm supporting you to chase this dream you'd been wanting ever since you were a kid," you admitted, chest tightening as you stared into his troubled brown eyes. "So, I'm not sitting this one out, Nate, I'm done."

You shoved the cross right on his chest.

"Have fun on your honeymoon," you said, bumping his shoulder as you walked out the door.

"Y/N!"

You never looked back.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Nathan was smart in a lot of different aspects. But emotions and feelings?

Oh he was stupid as fuck.

He wished it didn't take something drastic to happen for him to accept what he truly felt for you.

Part of him was relieved because at least you weren't there when the plane fiasco happened, especially with your injury. He was appeasing his guilt by telling himself that you were safer this way.

Nathan wouldn't know what to do with himself if something worse happened to you.

But as he was decoding the postcards Sam sent—a difficult task to focus on when he couldn't stop worrying about you so much—Chloe suddenly came in with a package.

"It has your name on it."

He opened it confused, but nothing could prepare him for what was inside.

The dread and fear started to creep up his spine when he held the silver necklace he gave you.

You never took this off.

As he emptied the box in a rush, photos upon photos of you tied up and gagged, beaten and bruised with blood tainting your delicate skin, Nathan felt like his entire heart was taken from him.

'The map or her. Choose wisely.'

It came in flashes, moments where you'd been there for each other, the joy and heartbreak, success and failures—you were always there, his one constant.

Then came the moments where he dreamed about you and him, doing things best friends shouldn't be doing.

He always knew what he felt about you but he shoved it down in fear of ruining the friendship you'd built over the years. But now? Denying it seemed insignificant. Now there was a chance he wouldn't be able to tell you at all.

Nathan was losing the love of his life.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

"That didn't take long," Braddock laughed sardonically, standing up from a large rock nestled on the beach somewhere in the Philippines.

"Where is she," Nathan growled, the tube map holder slung on his back.

Braddock nodded at one of her men, Nathan's heart sinking to his stomach when they dragged you in, your yelp piercing his chest when they shoved you on the sand.

Nathan instinctively tried to run for you.

"Not so fast," Braddock hummed, clicking her gun before pressing it on the back of your head. "How do I know this isn't a trick?"

"I think you already figured out I don't play games when it comes to her."

"Well, let's see," she challenged. "On your knees, Drake."

"N-Nate," you whimpered, adamantly shaking your head. Even in your state, you were still trying to protect him.

"It's okay," he reassured with a smile, hands up as he did as told.

Braddock grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you closer to where he was.

He stifled his anger. But best believe he'd already plotted so many ways to make Braddock suffer for what she did to you.

But one wrong move could cost your life.

"Hand it over."

"Untie her."

Braddock rolled her eyes but did so anyway.

"Hey, hey, look at me," Nathan whispered, your tear-filled eyes meeting his. He lifted his chin once, gaze flickering behind you. "I got you, okay? You're going to be okay."

"Enough with this sappy bullshit. Hand over the map or she dies."

Nathan slowly grabbed the map, only to throw it away as far as possible.

On cue, a huge explosion distracted Braddock enough for you to abruptly stand on your feet, hitting her under the chin with your head.

"You bitch!" she yelled, dropping the gun.

Nathan quickly pulled you aside and grabbed the weapon. With no remorse, he shot Braddock on both thighs, once more on the arm to be petty.

He'd do much worse if you weren't on borrowed time.

Nathan grabbed your hand and made a run for it.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

The silence was tense.

But Nathan was focused on taking care of you first.

He was busy enough trying not to cry whenever he'd discover a new cut and bruise on you that he couldn't even dwell on the fact that you were showering together. You were both in your underwear, but still.

It was when he had you sitting on the counter as he patched you up when you spoke.

"You didn't have to do all that for me."

"You know, it hurts me so much that you think I wouldn't take a bullet for you," he sighed, finishing up a bandage before meeting your glossy eyes. "You're more important to me than you think you are."

"No, I know it's just—" You bit your bruised lip. Nathan quickly pulled it away with his thumb, not wanting you to worsen your injury. You leaned into his touch as you continued, "You've been dreaming of this since you were a kid and I feel like I've ruined it for you."

"You didn't ruin anything."

"But you should be out there looking for the gold," you said. "Instead you're stuck here with me."

"Listen to me, if I had to choose between that gold and—" He took a breath, holding your face in both hands as he stared at you longingly. "The woman I'm hopelessly in love with then…"

Nathan breathed out with a smile, "Fuck that gold."

You stared at him in a way that made him believe that he'd done it.

He'd finally ruined your friendship to a point of no return.

That until you broke out into the sweetest, brightest smile that made his heart grow and his knees weak all the same.

"It's not as hopeless as you think it is."

Nathan felt like his heart was about to burst.

"Yeah?" He grinned, giddy and warm, gently parting your legs and stepping a little closer.

You let him into your space. But suddenly your brows furrowed, frowning. "What about you and Chloe?"

"So you were jealous."

"Nate."

"There's no me and Chloe," he reassured, gently taking your hands, kissing the insides of your wrists before placing them on his shoulders. "Maybe I got the incredibly stupid idea to make you jealous—I know, baby, I'm an idiot—but she shot that down real quick."

"But—"

"Those times you've seen me with her, all I kept talking about was you," he admitted, blushing. "I'm sure she'd grown sick of me being lovesick."

Nathan probably talked her ear out about how hopelessly in love he was with you, seeking advice on what to do because it was the one thing he couldn't go to you about.

She had been really helpful, pushing him to confess because it was better you know before it's too late, and that in this line of work, you'd never know when that would be.

If only he hadn't let his cowardness win.

"She argued with me that leaving you behind was a bad idea, and if I listened to her I—" He pressed his forehead against yours with a shaky breath. "I'm sorry."

"I know you like to take all the blame but this isn't your fault," you hummed, fingers combing the straggles of hair on the nape of his neck.

"It kind of is," he pressed, eyes watering as he thought about what he dragged you into.

He couldn't stop thinking about the pain you'd gone through all because he was being reckless. For as long as he could remember, he made a vow to himself to always keep you safe no matter what. Yet here he was, failing at that—failing you.

"I'm sorry for being such a shitty best friend this past week," he said, caressing the apples of your cheeks.

"You were pretty shitty," you teased, though he could see the way your body relaxed a little. He could tell that you appreciated hearing his apology. It must've been weighing on you since you left.

It made his heart ache.

"I was and I'm sorry," he said regretfully. "I guess I just got so caught up in this whole treasure-hunting thing that I lost sight of what's truly important to me. But still, it's no excuse. I was the one who dragged you into this, I should've been attentive enough."

You turned your head and kissed his palm, a silent way of saying it was okay. He felt like he was about to melt.

"And I'm sorry for taking so goddamn long to tell you how I feel," Nathan admitted.

"Yeah well," you hummed, smiling at him sweetly. "We're both at fault on that one,"

"Still, I'm sorry," he whispered, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. "For everything."

You nodded, a smile on your lips. "I can't say I forgive yet—"

"Understandable."

"But hey," you hummed, leaning closer. "You have plenty of time to grovel and make up for it."

Nathan chuckled, brushing his lips against yours with a whisper, "Can I start with a kiss?"

You nodded with that cute giggle of yours, one that still echoed as he finally closed the distance.

So many things filled him up at once—soft, sweet, warm. So many emotions rattling his heart as your lips molded into one—relief, passion, love.

It was gratifying, a kiss he'd been dreaming of for as long as he could remember. But, with your fingers in his hair and his hands on your waist, your warm body flushed to his with no space in between, nothing could ever compare to the real thing.

And yes, it was going to take some time to repair the cracks that were made in your relationship. But he was willing to wait and do whatever it takes to gain your full trust back.

Nathan didn't care how long or how much work it would take, as long as at the end of every day, you came back home to him—it was more than worth it.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

"Kid, are you even listening to me?"

"Sorry, Sully," Nathan said unapologetically. "But whatever the wife says, goes and her plan is usually better than yours."

"I'm technically not your wife yet," you giggled, your engagement ring glinting as you continued bypassing the security cameras using your phone.

"Technically, yes," he agreed, shrugging. "But in my head, you've been my wife ever since you put that ring on."

"Always thinking ahead, huh?" You finished up the job, slipping your phone into your pocket before turning to him with a raised brow.

"Oh yeah," he hummed, pulling you closer by the waist. "And once we get married, in my head, we already have three kids."

"Three?" you choked out a laugh.

"Five?"

"Let's start with one and see where that goes."

"We should definitely practice later."

"Do I always have to remind you two that this is an open line?"

"Oh we know," Nathan hummed, kissing you with a loud smack which earned an annoyed groan. He then gestured at the door with a bow. "After you, Mrs. Drake."

"Still up for debate."

"I'd take your last name any day."

"I was thinking hyphenated."

"Not a bad shout."

"Get moving you two!"

"Sully, you're getting so close to getting your wedding invite revoked."

You laughed at that.

Nathan couldn't resist kissing you once more.

"Let's go," you giggled against his lips. "We still have treasure to find."

"I'm in no rush," he shrugged, brushing his nose against yours. He was sure his eyes were glowing with pure adoration. "Already got the best one right here."

You groaned and called him cheesy but you still kissed him anyway.

Treasure be damned, with you by his side, Nathan was the richest man alive.

✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ♛ *.

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mirandasidefics · 3 months ago

Text

But Home is Nowhere- Chapter 11

Pairing(s): Lucien x Plus Size Reader, Azriel x Plus Size Reader, and Ruhn Dannan x Plus Size Reader.

Summary: Ruhn supports Reader as she continues to heal. The two come to an agreement regarding her use of Azriel's tonic on the nights where she struggles the most. As their friendship progresses, so do their feelings towards each other. Reader opens up and shares parts of herself that no one, not even Lucien, knows about her. So, what happens when Ruhn makes an idiotic mistake?

Also, Lucien has a confusing dream.

Word Count: 16K

Warnings: Feelings of hopelessness, loneliness, grief, angst, conflicting emotions, mentions of substance use, Reader being dense af, smut (18+/MDNI), oral (f receiving), masturbation (male), making out/kissing, secondhand embarrassment (aka Ruhn's a dumbass).

Author's Note: This is a heavy Ruhn centered chapter. And we have his POV! I decided that I couldn't sufficiently tell his and Reader's part of the story without his POV. The final scene is split between the Reader and Ruhn's POV as there is a lot going on in each of their heads. I did a lot of research into what the ingredients for Azriel's Mother's tonic could be, and I settled on it being a similar product to laudanum (opium mixed with hard liquor). There are some added natural sleep-inducing herbs as well. The "black gum" that Ruhn mentions is the equivalent to opium (heroin). For those that recognize the song, I didn't include all of the lyrics, but Reader does sing the entire song. Ruhn's focus just goes in and out so what the audience sees is what sticks in his head. I think that is all.

As always, a HUGE thank you to my beta readers!

Series Masterlist Divider by @/tsunami-of-tears

Previous: Chapter 10 Next: Chapter 12

Ruhn noted how (Y/N) had been quiet since leaving the party. Which was unusual as typically their nightly routine included each of them talking about their day, at least the parts whenever they weren’t together. Tonight though, she was silent as she moved about the room. Something was on her mind, he could tell; but whether or not to try and get the information out of her or let her share it on her own was the question he found himself asking now. She kicked off the small heels and unclasped the delicate necklace, setting it on the smooth top of the vanity.

“Could you help me?” Her voice sounded distant. She turned her back towards him, lifting her hair away from the ties that secured the deep red dress to her frame. He hummed his acknowledgment and pulled at the laces, loosening the dress. He caught sight of a strip of vivid blue-violet fabric stretching across her back. Her hands quickly grasped the front of her dress, pressing it to her chest to keep it from falling. She nodded her thanks and rushed into the bathroom to finish undressing.

Ruhn started to undress himself as well, unbuttoning the dark silver cotton blend dress shirt that he wore. He sat on the edge of the bed to pull off his socks when he looked up into the mirror on the dresser directly in front of the bed. His breath caught in his throat. The door to the bathroom had not shut all the way, a fact that she must have been unaware of as she pranced around in the sinfully sexy lace bra and pantie set. He couldn’t help but wonder if that was something she picked out for herself, or if his sister had yet again decided to meddle. It wouldn’t be the first time. He couldn’t help but notice the color of this particular set was his favorite color.

Ruhn knew he should have looked away. That he should have stood up and turned around to give her that privacy, but he simply couldn’t. Instead, he sat on the bed with his bare chest exposed and just watched. She was so beautiful. Not just on the outside, no. He saw how beautiful her heart and mind were as well. Her compassion and resilience were aspects of her being that he respected and adored.

She moved with grace as she set about removing her makeup. He had to bite his lip to suppress the longing groan as he watched her bend over the sink. The lace panties high enough to expose the delicious curve of her ass cheeks. Thank fucking Urd she couldn’t smell his arousal, but she would be able to see and feel his hard cock if he couldn’t get a hold of himself.

He shook his head, resisting the urge to physically slap himself to get moving again. He quickly undressed, remaining in his boxer briefs. Their shared body heat always seemed to keep him warm enough. She certainly never complained about his lack of apparel either. The thought made him smile slightly. Plus, it wasn’t like he could easily pack up his former belongings with his old house being watched. And he had seen no point in purchasing any new pajamas from any of the vendors in Velaris, even though Rhysand did supply him with a decent paycheck. What he was being paid for he honestly didn’t quite know. He held no official title that he was aware of, and apart from training with Cassian and Azriel the only thing he did was care for (Y/N). But that wasn’t a job. As far as he was concerned he was just spending time with his friend.

Ruhn could hear her feet pacing back and forth on the tiles of the bathroom. Wordlessly he went over to the dresser and pulled out one of her nightgowns. Truth be told he’d much prefer her to join him in bed with the outfit she currently had on, even if he had no plans to touch her without her permission. But he knew that she preferred to be a little bit more covered. Ruhn gently knocked on the door, careful to face away so as to give her a semblance of privacy while he held out the silk nightgown. She took it from his grasp, giving a small thanks.

This had also become part of their routine. If she intentionally forgot her night clothes or not, he didn’t mind helping her in this way. He knew that she was dressed when the door opened the rest of the way. He immediately noticed that the blue straps of her bra were nowhere to be seen alongside the thin straps of the nightgown. He had to take a deep breath to calm himself knowing that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. He slipped into the room next to her so that he could wash his face and brush his teeth. The whole scene was perfectly domestic.

A part of him longed for more, but he didn’t want to overstep or make any assumptions on her feelings. Especially after her forced separation from Lucien. It had taken several nights of restless and disturbed sleep before she felt comfortable having Ruhn close to her. He didn’t mind waiting until she had become comfortable.

He would wait as long as needed. He had his own shit to sort through, much of which he just pushed to the side. He had his theories about the last female he even thought of getting close to, before she turned out to be someone that he considered an enemy. But (Y/N), he knew that she didn’t deserve to be compared to anyone else. So he kept finding things about her that were completely different to ensure that his feelings for her were not an attempt to fill a hole that had been left behind.

Ruhn had grown close to the woman over the past few years together. There was no doubt in his mind that she was important to him and everything that was going on. He believed that he must have been equally as important to her since she had been more receptive to his attempts to comfort her. He honestly found it difficult to keep his hands to himself most of the time. There was something about being in physical contact with her that he craved. Even if that contact was as fleeting as a quick kiss to her brow, he needed her. And on the rare occasions that she returned the gestures, he felt more grounded than he had in his entire life. She brought him a sense of peace that he would be eternally grateful for. Especially since he never got to experience this feeling with - no he would not think about her. Lidia was gone. It was as simple as that, and nothing more.There was no sense comparing all that he had in his life now with something that was entirely unknown.

He shook his head, ridding his mind of the shifter’s memory. At least for the time being. His focus returned to the human standing next to him. Her head tilted to the side by a fraction, studying him. Ruhn took the opportunity to pull her into a hug and kiss the top of her forehead. Lacing her fingers with his, they made their way back to the bed. Pulling back the covers he climbed in, and she soon followed. Most nights they would fall asleep simply laying next to each other. Tonight however, she rolled on her side to face him.

“Everything alright?” He asked, lifting his arm to create a space for her. Tentatively she curled up next to him, eyes seeking permission to rest her head on his chest. He curled his fingers, beckoning her to come closer.

“I’m just in my feelings,” She admitted, her arm wrapped around his torso and her head resting on the space between his shoulder and pectoral. He wrapped his arm around her back, resting his hand on her hip. She let out a deep relaxed sigh. He hummed in response, moving his thumb in a soothing gesture. He knew her well enough to know when she didn’t feel like talking about a subject. So, if silent comfort was what she needed then that is what he would give. Not long after his eyelids began to droop and he drifted off to sleep.

A soft melody drifted and wound its way through the townhouse like a withered visage of a specter. The melancholic chords of a piano slowly brought Ruhn to an awakened state. He stretched his arm out across the bed, in hopes of curling it around the soft feminine figure whose warmth he’d grown accustomed to. Only that side of the mattress was cold and empty.

With a jolt his senses went on high alert. It took a moment for his mind to process that the music was not from his imagination, but from within the townhouse. There was only one person that would be playing the instrument, (Y/N). Nyx had asked her to sing at the most recent Winter Solstice celebrations, to which she nervously agreed. She shared a few songs that she said were from her world’s winter celebrations. Apparently not all humans strictly celebrated the Solstice, but something called Christmas. She accompanied herself on the piano that night and took to practicing ever since.

With his adrenaline subsiding he slowly climbed out of bed and proceeded to make his way downstairs to check on the human manipulating the ivory keys. He pulled the shadows that waited on the edges of the room towards himself, readying them to strike any threat that may be waiting, tricking him into believing that she was safe. He didn’t know why he suddenly thought that she could be at risk in one of the safety places for her, but the concern was there nonetheless.

The halls were dark as he made his way through, following the sound of the piano. By the time he reached the door of the small library on the ground floor he was able to make out the familiar sultry voice of (Y/N)’s singing. He released a breath, comforted by the reassurance that she was safe.

It's not simple to say

Most days I don't recognize me

With her attention on the keys of the piano, the woman hadn’t noticed him entering the small space. While she tried to keep her voice low, it carried and resonated throughout the entire home.

It's not easy to know

I'm not anything like I used to be

Although it's true

I was never attention’s sweet center

I still remember that girl

Ruhn enjoyed listening to her voice. The warmth that it embodied reminded him of the nights they spent curled up in blankets by the fire together.

She's imperfect but she tries

She is good but she lies

He watched as her expression changed from concentration to sadness.

She is hard on herself

She is broken and won't ask for help

His breath caught in his throat as he listened, the lyrics carrying a certain unspoken weight.

She is messy but she's kind

She is lonely most of the time

He marveled at the way she navigated from one part of her voice to the next. Seamless despite the weight that her sadness must have added.

She is gone but she used to be mine

His heart clenched as she finished the first chorus. It quickly became obvious that her playing and singing was more than just a source of entertainment. She needed this. He realized that music was her outlet. Many of the Fae had a natural love of music in some way. Her affinity could be yet another indication that she truly had Fae heritage, even distantly as they all suspected. While he was no musician himself, he was still intrinsically drawn to its beautiful complexity. Lilting melodies, full and robust harmonies, and driving beats all stirring parts of him that made him remember he was alive. He enjoyed music, but (Y/N)? In this instance she was music. Her entire body became much more than just an instrument. It was a vessel. One that embodied everything she was feeling, calling it to the surface and expelling it in a beautifully sonorous experience.

And you're not what I asked for

If I'm honest

I know I would give it all back

For a chance to start over

Her voice built, commanding that it be heard. Ruhn decided that he loved hearing her voice and would encourage her to use it at every opportunity.

For the girl that I knew

Who’ll be reckless just enough

Who can hurt but

Who learns how to toughen up when she's bruised

And gets used by a man who can’t love

He couldn’t help but wonder if some of these lyrics held any specific meaning for her, or if it was the overall message that she resonated with. He was slightly aware that she had a past with ex-lovers. She didn’t really provide much in the way of details, but he knew she had been hurt. He was also aware that she often didn’t feel worthy of being truly loved, often having been used. Ruhn decided that he would ensure that she never felt that way with him.

To fight just a little

To bring back the fire in her eyes

That's been gone but it used to be mine

She closed her eyes, tears slipping out and descending in salty trails down her cheeks. The impassioned resonance of her voice rattled every surface of the room as she held the note. He felt every ounce of the turmoil and longing that she had been holding inside. The gravity of the loss she was experiencing. It was pouring out of her, crashing against his senses much like the way Lidia had raged against his mental shields that week in the Asteri’s dungeons.

Used to be mine

Ruhn wanted to kick himself. Why did he suddenly think of Lidia again? The two were so different from each other. At least that’s what he thought. He never really got to know the female that risked her life for him. He did know (Y/N). Knew that she would do anything to protect those she loved. Whether through fierce words or use of the physical training she still attended daily, she was a protector with an occasional hairpin trigger. So why was he making any connection between the woman in front of him and the female that… The thought left his mind as (Y/N)’s voice cut through his defenses.

She is messy but she's kind

She is lonely most of the time

Her voice became brittle and shook from an exhaustion that he found himself all too familiar with. The sad smile on her lips dampened the impact her words had just moments before filled the small library. The next chord was one of finality. The soft tones clung to the air, just as tears clung to her eyelashes.

She is gone but she used to be mine

Ruhn watched from his spot near the door as she finally looked up from where her hands continued to rest on the keys. Tears streamed down her face, and for the first time in the years he’d known her she didn’t bother trying to wipe them away. She didn’t hide her sorrow, allowing him to fully see her heart and how it was breaking. He knew she was struggling, but he had no idea she was in this much pain.

Something inside him knew that she wouldn’t shy away if he approached, so he didn’t hesitate to walk across the room to be by her side. He was in front of her in just a few quick strides. There wasn’t much room on the piano bench for the two of them to sit in a way where he could hold her close. So, after a quick glance about the room he spotted the large plush reading chair.

Taking her hand, he pulled her to her feet and along towards the chair. He noted that the chair, while surely an amazing place for her to curl up with a book, wasn’t exactly wide enough for her to sit with her legs crossing over his lap. It didn’t make a difference though; he knew that she needed to be held to feel at ease. At least, that was how it always was when she woke from a nightmare in the middle of the night.

Typically, he would hold her as they lay on the bed together. His fingers either tracing along her skin marveling at how soft and supple it was or buried in her hair gently tugging on the strands just above the back of her neck. The action often allowed her to feel relaxed. It all depended on the level of security and protectiveness she needed to feel that night. Ruhn quickly surmised that tonight the best way to hold her would be for her to sit directly in his lap.

So, after settling on the chair, he pulled her towards him, guiding her to straddle over his hips. She complied, no hesitation in her movements as she made herself as comfortable as possible. Her nightgown inching up her thighs, revealing her skin as the fabric halted just below her hips. Her legs were able to slide in between his thighs and the arms of the chair, but just barely. He didn’t mind the pressure of her legs against his thighs, the feel of her body pressed against his helping to ground him as usual.

With near perfect practiced synchronicity Ruhn wrapped as much of himself as he could around her voluptuous frame. One hand slid along her lower back, providing support as it reached toward her hip. While the other slipped up her spine, fingers splayed out between her shoulder blades. He felt the small bumps rise along her warm skin. Her own arms wound around the top of his shoulders, her hands threading themselves into his hair. He let out a relaxed sigh at her touch, his breath ruffling her hair. She leaned forward and their bodies melded into each other’s. From this position, Ruhn would be able to easily pick her up and carry her back up stairs if needed.

With her face buried in his neck, she continued to silently cry. The wetness from her tears contrasted with the warmth of her breath against his skin. Her nose grazed just underneath his ear. He wanted to believe that his scent was somehow calming to her as her muscles relaxed the longer they sat in that position. Eventually, she broke the silence.

“Today was my brother’s birthday,” She whispered. Her shuddering breath fanned across his neck sending the briefest of shivers through him. Ruhn wasn’t sure how to respond, or if he should respond at all. He opted to remain silent, instead taking one hand and tenderly rubbing it along her back. She moved her own arms from around his neck to wrap them around his torso before fully relaxing into his hold on her. Ruhn smiled at the fact that their positioning probably made her look like an overgrown child. Urd knows that he caught her holding Nyx in the very same position many times trying to get him to calm down.

“My brother should be 30,” She continued. “I-I had never missed his birthday before…now I’ve missed three.” Her voice cracked from trying to keep her emotions in check and holding back her sobs. Tears still flowed, but Ruhn could tell that she was on the verge of breaking. With a kiss to her temple he let her continue all the same, knowing that she needed to process through her feelings.

“How many more am I going to miss?” She sucked in a harsh breath. “I don’t want to be here anymore. I just want to go home.” Her body began to tremble slightly, a signal the dam was ever closer to breaking. His hand continued to rub her back as his other squeezed at her hip, silently letting her know he was still listening. She didn’t need words from him anyway right now. He had quickly learned how to tell when she wanted his opinion on matters versus just silent comfort.

“I miss my family so much,” The words tumbled out, nearly blending in with the sob that she finally allowed herself to release. Ruhn pulled her closer to him and he felt her fingers press deeply into his shoulders. She gripped him as if he was the only thing preventing her from shattering entirely. He recognized that she held a quiet strength, but in his arms she suddenly became the most fragile thing in the world. Everything inside him wanted to protect her. To shield her from the pain and grief of losing everything she held dear.

“But it’s not just them I miss,” She continued through her sobs. “I miss everything about the life I had.” Ruhn listened as she continued to vent. She talked about how close she was to finishing her dissertation, years of dedicated hard work and research now felt wasted. She also talked about her recent promotion, finally allowing her to gain a semblance of financial independence. All of this leading up to the confession that threatened to rip his own heart from his chest.

“I’ve been in survival mode for so long.” She could barely speak from how heavily she was crying. “I-I don’t even know who I am anymore.” Ruhn wasn’t sure if he could hold her any closer than he already was, but he certainly tried. Her entire body shook from the force of her crying. He shushed her, bringing a hand up to her face to cradle it against him. After a moment she lifted her head, resting her forehead against his.

Her sobbing calmed down to a few shuddering breaths. She brought her hands up to his face, cupping each side. Her nose tentatively brushed against his. Their lips were less than an inch apart, but she didn’t bring them any closer. He wanted to kiss her, but this wasn’t the way he wanted their first kiss to be. He wanted her happy when, if ever, she decided that she wanted more with him. Urd knew that he wanted more with her.

Ruhn realized that he loved her. He loved her so damn much that even just simply waking up next to her everyday caused his heart to beat just a little bit faster. All he wanted to do was ensure she was happy, healthy, and safe. Especially safe given everything that she has been through. He vowed to himself that he would do everything in his power to make that happen.

“I’m not going to tell you who you are, as that is for you to decide,” He stated, breath intermingling with hers. “But I can tell you what I know and see every day that I’m with you. If you want to hear it, that is.” She brushed her nose against his again. He couldn’t tell if she wanted him to be the one that closed the distance or she would give in herself. Again he knew that it would be better to wait.

“Please,” She breathed. “Everything feels so different. Like something is missing. I-I could use a reminder.” One his hands cupped the back of her neck, his fingers threading in the hair at the base. He gave a gentle comforting tug causing her to sigh.

“Okay,” He pushed her face back slightly so he could better look her in the eyes. “You are kind and compassionate. I see that everyday when you’re with Nyx, a child that you have no relation to and yet you treat him as if he were your own. You’re patient with him and are teaching him what it means to be empathetic to those that have experienced hardships and the trials of life. You are talented and creative. Listening to you tonight, at the celebration and just a few minutes ago, you always take my breath away. I love listening to you and I don’t think that I would ever get tired of your voice. Use it more often, in every context, not just musically. You are so strong, so resilient, and fierce. No one would fault you for wanting to hide from the world. For letting the darkness you’ve experienced swallow you whole. But you don’t. You keep fighting for your life, knowing that things will get better. Even if there are those in this court that don’t want to appreciate all that you are.” Tears were again falling from her eyes, but a small smile graced her lips. Her cheeks took on a lovely blush at his praise.

“You have such a large capacity for love,” He brushed away her tears with his thumbs. “I know things have changed and that you feel lost. But you are not alone in the feeling because so many things have changed since you were introduced into our lives. I honestly don’t know what my life would be without you.” He set his forehead against hers, his hands back around her waist, rubbing small circles.

“Thank you,” Her whisper was so soft. He only knew that she had spoken from the breath he felt against his lips.

“Anytime sweetness,” He smiled, squeezing her sides. She squirmed at the touch, no doubt the sensation sent a shiver up her spine.

“With everything that has happened, the good and the horrible, it's easy to get lost in a sea of emotions.” She revealed. “It feels like that has been happening more and more lately. They swirl around jumbling my thoughts into an incomprehensible cacophony. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there have been more nights where I just can’t sleep. Not necessarily because of the nightmares, just…from how loud everything can get. Being with you helps, but I still just wish that my brain would quiet down sometimes.”

Ruhn hummed in thought, processing her words. He had noticed that she was more restless the past week, but he had assumed it was related to her dreams. But if she was restless due to racing thoughts there might be a solution.

He hated the idea of her using Azriel’s tonic, but it would provide the calm she needed to sleep. He had been so scared when she wouldn’t wake when he found her after his only trip to Midgard a year ago. No matter how hard he shook her she remained unconscious. He became so panicked that he eventually placed his ear against her chest, her heartbeat slow but present. He didn’t know what to do until Azriel arrived racing up the stairs to her room. The male claimed he was on his way to check on her when his shadows notified him of Ruhn’s presence and the fact that (Y/N) wouldn’t wake. Azriel attempted to calm Ruhn down after telling him about the tonic, but he didn’t want to listen until (Y/N) was awake again.

Once she finally woke up Ruhn demanded to know what was in it, and he wasn’t surprised to learn that it had a near lethal dosage of refined black gum mixed in. If she were to use it again it would have to be strictly monitored. He knew all too well the dangers of addiction.

“What if,” He started, “Would taking some of the tonic help? Just a small amount, enough to help calm you.” She peered at him, her brow furrowing in thought. He loved how cute she looked, even though it was a serious topic at hand.

“It could,” She nodded, eyes drifting towards the side with ongoing contemplation. “I just worry about pouring too much. I thought that I measured it correctly, but…” Her words trailed off as she met his gaze again.

“What if I were to help by measuring it out for you?” He offered. “I have experience with one of the ingredients, and have an idea of what would be a good dosage for you. But I don’t want to dictate when you take it. If you feel it would be helpful, and you want my assistance I will gladly mix it up for you in some tea.” Her expression flashed with disgust at the mention of tea.

“I’d rather swallow it as is than drink it with tea,” She stated before jokingly making a retching sound. “What if I took it with alcohol?”

“Baby, it’s already mixed with alcohol. That’s what makes it so dangerous.”

She pouted her lips, but eventually sighed. “It would help with reducing the noise in my head?” He nodded.

“But if you’re not comfortable with taking it we can find something else. Maybe Bryce-” She shook her head at his suggestion.

“The tonic was the only thing that has really helped so far,” She reminded him. “I just need someone to make sure that I don’t overdo it. I’ve had my fair share of taking medications with similar properties and I always get to a point where my tolerance builds and I need more to have the same desired effect.” So she did have an understanding of the risks. Ruhn found himself relaxing a bit at that. At least he wouldn’t have to convince her to not take it daily.

“Let’s do this then,” He offered. “You tell me when things get to be too much, and I’ll pour you the dose that fits your needs best before bed. The tonic comes with risks, but your mental health is just as important.” She nodded.

“Do you want to go back to bed?” He asked. “Or do you want to stay down here and cuddle.” He pulled her closer, settling her hips directly over his own. He had to suppress his surprise at the feeling of her, with only his boxers separating them.

“Cuddle in bed?” She offered. A whisper of a smile gracing her features.

“Sounds perfect,” He returned the smile as she stood up and off his lap. Taking her hand, Ruhn led her back towards their room.

“Wait,” She stopped at the bottom of the staircase. “What should I do when I’m in the Day Court with Lucien?”

“Does Lucien still share a bed with you in the Day Court?” Ruhn asked as he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. A possessive part of him didn’t want to hear the answer, selfishly wanting to be the only male to keep her warm in the midnight hours.

“No,” She responded quietly. “He sleeps in his own bed, but he does sleep in the room. We…we felt it was best given all the drama about him being mated to Elain.” Ruhn’s shoulders relaxed just ever so slightly with the news. He knew they were friends, knew that the red-headed male had been privy to a fair number of her most vulnerable moments. He had to remind himself that, based on what little information Lucien provided, there was a brief moment when their relationship had danced on the edge of the already thin line between friendship and something more.

He had suspected that perhaps they had nearly become intimate, or at least seen each other nude. Either way he didn’t particularly like the thought of another male being so close to her in that manner. Regardless of what it was, this moment ended up being the catalyst for Lucien to diminish his presence by her side over the past year and a half. Of which Ruhn was secretly glad. While (Y/N) stated that it was a mutual decision, Lucien informed him that it was her idea and decision. So far Lucien had been true to his word of respecting that decision, even if the separation between them was clearly hurting them both.

“I’m sure that if you explain everything that you told me, he would be more than happy to assist in keeping an eye on you,” Ruhn offered. “And if he doesn’t want to then I’ll just have to start going to the Day Court with you.” His smile was mischievous as he pulled her closer to his body. They both knew that if Ruhn, Bryce, or Hunt were to step outside of Velaris there would be too many questions surrounding them. Especially given the fact that Ruhn and Rhysand looked so similar.

The woman rolled her eyes, “Everyone was in agreement that knowledge of travelers from other worlds needed to be kept within the confines of the Inner Circle.” Her voice took on an almost mocking tone as she repeated Rhysand’s words. “At least until it becomes necessary to share that information.”

Ruhn knew that Rhysand would only reveal the existence of other worlds if there was a direct threat that required the assistance of other leaders. The hope was that those from Midgard would be able to defeat the Asteri largely on their own, and that (Y/N) would find a way home without the other High Lords taking notice. While (Y/N) had interactions with Helion, as far as Ruhn knew he had yet been informed of her true origins.

“I know,” Ruhn said, bringing her hand to his lips before he tugged her up the stairs. “Plus that’s your time alone with Lucien. I doubt he would want me third wheeling.” She giggled. Fucking giggled and his heart soared.

“Just hurry up,” She pushed at his back the rest of the way up the stairs. “I wanna cuddle.”

Yet another Autumn was in full swing in Velaris marking a full 4 years since you arrived in this world. Despite your ongoing trips to the Day Court you were no closer to finding a way home. As much as that simple fact upset you, you were slowly becoming more used to your life in Prythian. Every morning was the same routine of you waking next to Ruhn and having breakfast together before Azriel and Cassian took you to the House of Wind for your self defense training. Training was followed by caring for Nyx 4 days a week. You loved your time with the little heir, but you’d be lying if you said you also didn’t love having time to do what you wanted on your days off.

Most days you would engage in your own hobbies of reading and music, and others you would explore Velaris with someone from the Inner Circle. Well, all except for Rhysand really. Each of the other members had their merits and you didn’t mind getting to know them. You especially enjoyed occasionally joining Nesta and her friends for a book club sleepover. She practically provided you with a never ending supply of romance novels, most of which were not for the faint of heart in regards to smut. Of course, you devoured each and every one of them, but even with the friendships you were forming, you really preferred the time you spent with Ruhn.

You were together every night, and he really had become your rock since your break down after Starfall. You always expressed your gratitude and appreciation for his support, verbally and through small gestures. However, a part of you felt bad because he did so much for you; not only did he provide comfort and support, but he ensured that Lucien was made aware of your needs as well.

The three of you had a very open and honest conversation surrounding the tonic and Lucien spending more time with you in the Night Court. Ruhn had recognized your needs and was proactive in making sure they were met. You were constantly on the lookout for a way to return his efforts, but there never seemed to be an opportunity.

You didn’t want to push the topic, aware that he had his own emotions to process. The loss associated with someone that you were almost certain may have been his mate, even if he didn’t recognize that himself, and being away from his friends surely was taking an emotional toll. Not to mention that his entire life had abruptly changed, being captured and tortured, only to be rescued and forced to live on a world that was not his own. It was a similar situation to yours, so who better to share his feelings with? You wanted to do something for him, support him in the ways he supported you, but you didn’t know where to start since he didn’t open up in the same way.

Sitting on the couch in the front parlor of the townhouse, your mind wandered in and out from thinking of various ideas as you read the latest novel borrowed from Nesta. Of course, the novel was one of her favorites and she gave you a warning to only read it when you were alone. You wished you had listened, clamping your legs together at the thought of Ruhn going down on you like the male lead in the novel. Which led you to wonder if he would enjoy a blow job as a way for you to express your thanks. So far the contents of this particular novel only inspired ideas that you were certain Ruhn would want no part of, at least not with you. You were friends, nothing more. You’d been friendzoned enough times to know that was all you’d ever be with the annoyingly handsome male.

Apart from the fact that you had to push the dirty thoughts from your mind, it was a nice quiet afternoon. One that was made all the more enjoyable with Lucien by your side. Well, he wasn’t exactly by your side as your legs were technically draped over his lap. His own book in one hand while the other traced lazy designs on your exposed thigh.

You smiled to yourself as his fingers drew their designs. The sensation caused a shiver to run up your spine. You were grateful the male had followed through on his promise to see you more often between trips to the Day Court, even if he was technically sneaking behind Rhysand’s back to do it. He had reassured you that if you ever became uncomfortable with the extra visits he would stick to the schedule Rhysand set. Of course, you told him that you would never push him away, that you enjoyed all the time you got to spend with your best friend. Though, that didn’t stop you from worrying. There had already been a few close calls with Azriel almost finding out. The most recent incident was a month ago.

Lucien arrived at the townhouse, winnowing into the back garden. The two of you spent the morning of your day off lounging in your room. Ruhn had left just a few minutes prior, jokingly warning against any “funny business”. You had rolled your eyes, the notion of anything like that occurring between you and your friend was utterly ridiculous, that morning in the Day Court being a fluke. He was mated and not at all interested in any other female, especially not a human.

The two of you spent most of the day talking and catching up. He was in the middle of recounting an instance of Jurian making a fool of himself at one of the human markets when you heard the front door of the townhouse open. You knew that Ruhn wouldn't be back for at least another hour. So whomever was downstairs was someone you were not expecting.

“(Y/N)?” Azriel’s voice floated up the stairs. Of course, it had to be one of the worst people to show up unexpectedly. Your eyes went wide, looking at Lucien whose eyes were equally wide.

“Under the bed!” You whisper shouted to the red-head. The two of you scrambled getting Lucien underneath your bed. You had just resettled on top of the mattress from fixing the sheets when Azriel’s head popped up around the corner of your door frame.

The conversation between the two of you was short with him asking if you wanted to go to a new bakery that had just opened. You politely declined, claiming that you weren’t feeling the best and were probably going to take a nap. If one thing could be said, Azriel had become much better about respecting your boundaries, so he excused himself and offered to go with you another time.

After hearing the front door close again, you rushed over to the top of the stairs to make sure that he truly left. When you returned to your room, you quickly shut the door and locked it just in case someone else decided to show up unannounced. You made your way back over to the bed and dropped down to the ground. Lifting the bedskirt you started to laugh.

“Comfy?” You asked, a wide grin spreading across your face as you looked at the male. Lucien was lying on his stomach, hair mussed from the effort in maneuvering himself around while under your mattress.

“Hardly.” His voice was less than amused as he attempted to crawl back out. The sight was one of the most entertaining you had witnessed in quite some time. His slow wiggling army crawl made him look more like a worm than the formidable predator that you knew Fae males to be. You couldn’t help but laugh loudly and fully. You laughed so hard that tears were streaming from your face and a slight pain bloomed on your side. You had not laughed like that since before your arrival in this world. The only thing that stopped you was the fact that you nearly triggered a coughing fit.

“This makes me feel like a teenager again,” You admitted between laughs. “When I had to hide my boyfriend from my parents. Azriel has a bit of a tendency to act like such a dad!” You erupted into another bout of boisterous laughter. “Daddy Az!” Lucien just stared at you, his expression torn between amusement and irritation. You just continued to cackle.

The two of you couldn’t always hide out in your bedroom though. Which is how you ended up in your current position on the couch, the dark gray curtains of the picture window overlooking the cobblestone street drawn shut. Your eyes focused back on the book in front of you. You kept your face as neutral as possible as the two main characters started to engage in a downright raunchy sex scene. You were no stranger to smutty stories, but the level of detail this author included was not what you were expecting. There was honestly no real plot to this book, just bold erotica.

The passage of the book ignited a longing in your core. Again, you were forced to rub your thighs together to try to alleviate the desire building inside you. Lucien’s fingers stopped their movement, carefully squeezing your thigh. You couldn’t tell if it was in response to anything you were doing or if he just wasn’t paying attention. Regardless, you recognized that your body was reacting to the scene too strongly. Fuck, you needed to get laid. Five years without sex is way too long.

You were so engrossed in your novel and the thoughts surrounding the passage that you didn’t hear the voices of those approaching the townhouse. You also didn’t hear the group enter and make their way into the parlor.

“Aww, aren’t you two sweet?” Bryce cooed from the entryway. Your body jolted from surprise. One would have thought the book in your hands burned your skin with how quickly you dropped it. That was nothing compared to the shriek you let out when Ruhn’s face appeared next to your shoulder.

“What are you reading?” His deep voice sent heat straight to your core. Goosebumps rose up along your arms as his breath fanned across your ear. He gave you a quick peck of a kiss to your cheek before leaning down to pick up the book. You felt Lucien’s grip on your thigh tighten before it went back to tracing indiscriminate patterns. His attention went to Bryce and Hunt, striking up a conversation with them. You reached for the book, but when you failed to answer Ruhn quickly enough, he pulled the novel away before you could get a decent grasp on it.

“Hey! I am reading that!” You screeched at the dark haired male. You attempted to go for the book again, but Ruhn pranced out of your reach.

“Well, isn’t this interesting.” He mused before exaggerating the clearing of his throat. The next sentence that came out of his mouth consisted of the most explicit erotica you had ever heard in your life. There was nothing left to the imagination at the graphic detail the author laid out. You felt the color drain from your face as the other three individuals immediately stopped their conversation while Ruhn continued to read in an overly dramatic fashion.

“I begged him for his seed. Begged him to fill me. I-” Ruhn scrunched his face as his eyes scanned the page. “Fucking Hel I’m not saying that out loud. You know if you’re interested in this material all you have to do is ask. I’d be glad to show you first hand.” Ruhn dangled the book in front of your face. A smirk stretching across his features.

Your hands reached for the book again, “Give that back.” You demanded. Your face burned red from the embarrassment that filled your chest. Ruhn pulled the book out of your reach a second time. Placing the corner of the novel against his cheek he hummed in playful contemplation.

“No.” His statement was simple. “If you want it, come get it.” With that he raced out of the room.

“Fucking asshole!” You seethed under your breath. Your embarrassment clouded your better judgment. A part of you knew that you fell for whatever scheme he was planning, but another part of you didn’t care as butterflies filled your stomach.

“You’re such a child!” You shouted, swinging your legs to the side of the couch. Without a second thought you raced after him, barely registering Bryce’s comment.

“She’s aware that she's just in that long tank top and panties right?” Bryce snickered.

As you rounded the corner into the front hall you saw the back door slam shut. You ran for the door, quickly following him into the back garden. You stomped over to Ruhn, his bright eyes lit up like the night sky. You weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of you having to ask a third time to return the book, so you simply held out your hand expectantly.

You honestly shouldn’t have expected that he would return the book so easily. No, Ruhn Danaan was a jerk that enjoyed teasing you at every possible opportunity. He held the book high above his head, completely out of your reach. But boy, did you make a spectacle of yourself trying to retrieve the item responsible for your shame. You jumped, arm extended upwards hoping to wrap your fingers around the book’s spine, only for Ruhn to move the book to his other hand. You smacked his chest and made a second attempt to jump for the book. However, you lost your balance as your foot landed on the tip of Ruhn’s boot.

The male caught you, his arms slipping around your waist to steady you. With the book now within your sights as it rested on your hip you spun yourself around with the hopes to finally catch it. Alas, you were bested by his supernatural Fae reflexes. His arm was back in the air, the book dangling above his head. His other arm tightened around you, pulling your back flush against his chest.

“Come on sweetness,” He mocked. His lips pressed against your ear. “You can do better than that can’t you?” You growled in frustration. The male just laughed, kissing the top of your head.

“Would you stop that,” You warned, attempting and failing to push his face away from yours. You didn’t want him to know the effect that his lips and breath against your skin caused. The shiver that traveled down your spine. The way your legs turned to jelly. You were grateful that his arm was around you, certain that your knees would give out otherwise. Desire built within you the longer he held you close, wrapped in his warmth.

“Did you know that when you’re aroused your scent takes on a slight hint of amber musk?” He crooned. He hadn’t moved his lips from their spot against your ear lobe. “It surprisingly complements the vanilla and honey very well.” Your eyes went wide and you whipped your head around to face him. You knew that the Fae had a more sensitive sense of smell, but you had been uncertain of the extent of this ability. The idea that anyone would be able to smell hormonal changes or emotions as if this were a poorly written omegaverse story, made you nervous. Knowing Ruhn was able to tell when you were aroused…You were absolutely mortified.

“Aww baby, don’t worry,” He tried to reassure you, but the teasing tone to his voice never dissipated. “I’m certain that I’m the only one to have picked up on that.” He paused, his voice almost clipped. “Perhaps Lucien too.” You groaned. It was one thing for Ruhn to notice and become familiar with your scent. He lived with you and slept next to you every night. Somehow you felt even more embarrassed to know that Lucien could also tell. You made a vow to never read another smutty book in either of their presences ever again.

“Just, give me the book Ruhn,” You were rapidly getting tired of this game.

“I will, if you tell me something about you that no one else knows,” He finally let you go. “And gimme a kiss.”

“A kiss? Really?” You were exasperated and leveled him with a glare. “Aren’t we both a bit old to act like immature and hormonal teenagers?”

“Maybe,” He mused, swinging the book in front of your face. “It doesn’t have to be more than a simple little peck.” You rolled your eyes. You stood there, tapping your foot with your hands on your hips as you pondered what to tell him.

“Fine,” You bemoaned. “Seeing as no one has asked me yet, I’ll let you know when my birthday is, and my exact age.” You crooked your finger, beckoning him to come closer. Once he was close enough, you wrapped your hand around the back of his neck. You allowed your fingers to thread in his hair, his own hand coming to rest on your hip.

You had no idea where the sudden boldness came from, but you wanted to get back at him just a little. So, using your most seductive sounding voice you whispered the information into his year. Since you weren’t entirely sure if either Prythian or Midgard used the same calendar as your world, you gave an approximation of days after one of the main solar holidays which your birthday landed on. Had you angled your head differently you would have seen how his eyes practically rolled to the back of his head at the sound of your voice. What you did note was the tightening of his grip on your hip. You then topped off your performance with a small kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Oh that’s not fair. That was hardly a kiss.” He complained. “And there’s no way you’re that age.”

“I most certainly am. And you should have been more specific about the type of kiss you wanted,” You explained, offering him a sweet smile. “Book please.” Holding out both of your hands you patiently waited for him to comply. With an exaggerated sigh, he placed the racy novel into your awaiting hands. You beamed up at the male, lips parting to make a sarcastic remark when someone behind you cleared their throat. Lucien stood on the wooden deck, shifting from one foot to the next.

“I should be getting back to the human lands,” He announced, eyes focusing on Ruhn. A harsh expression crossed his features.

“Okay,” You nodded, choosing to ignore how Lucien’s gaze never left the other male’s, and quickly ran up to him. He opened his arms, enveloping you in a hug as part of your usual parting routine. You embraced him as well, taking in a deep breath as you pressed your nose against his neck. You knew that your sense of smell wasn’t anything like the Fae’s, incapable of picking out each and every specific scent that made up the whole. But that didn’t stop you from wanting to memorize the way he smelled. You couldn’t put your finger on any one particular fragrance, the only thing your mind could determine was that he just smelled like a warm and cozy autumn afternoon. Ruhn had his own scent in your mind as well. Again, nothing that you could describe beyond the way it made you feel at ease and secure.

Lucien held you close, his own face buried against your neck. Perhaps he also found comfort in the way you smelled. You suddenly remembered Ruhn’s comment, of the two of them being able to smell your arousal. Carefully you pulled away from Lucien before wishing him a safe journey back to his shared home with Vassa and Jurian. The males gave each other a small nod, and within the blink of an eye Lucien was gone.

Lucien had lost count of how many times he read the passage in the center of the page of his open book. His attention continuously strayed to the woman whose legs were draped over his lap. Her attention focused on the novel in her own hands lent to her by Nesta, eyes darting side to side as her gaze swept over what must have been truly tantalizing material. Especially if the intoxicatingly sweet aroma spilling off her was anything to go by.

It took effort for him to keep his breaths steady, fighting against the desperate desire to inhale deeply every time the breeze brushed through the open window and ruffling her hair. His left hand rested across her plump thighs, fingertips tracing lazy designs along the outer side. Every now and again the softest hum would slip past her lips. The sound caused his cock to twitch against the fabric of his trousers.

The scent of her arousal was thick and heady. He glanced over to her, careful not to rouse suspicion that he was watching. A thin lacy off-white strap of her light blue cotton top slipped off her shoulder. The simple item was one that Bryce had given her for the Winter Solstice last year, and her breasts looked sinful whenever she wore it. Another breeze flitted past, and Lucien watched as her nipples peaked underneath the fabric. Mother above; he had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop the groan that wanted out.

An eternity passed by as he debated on giving up his attempts to read entirely. The need to taste her was damn near overwhelming. That desire quickly won out. Without another thought he allowed his fingers to trail higher up the exposed silken flesh of her thigh, slowly moving towards the apex between her legs. He delicately brushed over the outline of her pubic mound before moving on to the opposite leg. He watched intently as her breath became shallow, hitching when his fingers teased over the sensitive area again. Her eyes stopped their flitting movement from taking in the words on the pages before her, however, she didn’t bring her attention to him. Instead, she parted her legs just enough for him to dip his hand between them. A silent invitation.

He accepted the gift that was offered to him, and curled his fingers between the limbs, pressing the outside of his pinky against the thin fabric of her matching panties. Ever since their trip to the Day Court she stopped wearing any articles of clothing that would obscure her legs from his view when they were alone together. He had no complaints, secretly loving the fact that she felt confident enough to show them off. Her breath hitched again. A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth, pleased with the reaction he was eliciting from her. He moved his hand up and down, dragging the edge of it along her folds. She spread her legs a little further, and Lucien felt the damp spot that had seeped through the cotton material.

Lucien turned his head to better look at the woman. Her book swayed in her grip as her eyes fluttered shut from the pleasure she was already feeling. He pressed his hand further between her legs and hooked his pinky finger under the fabric separating her flesh from his. He smirked with satisfaction; she was absolutely soaked. She whimpered as his finger wriggled in between her folds, inching closer to that precious bundle. Her body went taut as soon as he made contact, and her eyes found him. His grin was triumphant.

Her book fell to the side, thumping against the carpet beneath the couch they lounged upon. Lucien tossed aside his own book, not caring where it landed in the parlor. He twisted to face her, her legs falling open for him. Wordlessly his hand traveled up to the waistband of her underwear and began to pull down. Lifting her hips, she allowed him to remove the garment. His mouth watered at the sight of her glistening cunt before him. He maneuvered himself lower, bracing his forearms on the cushions. Gently pulling on her leg to bring her closer, she then angled her hips to give him better access to her center. He kissed his way up the inside of one thigh, gently blowing warm air over her folds, and kissed back down the opposite thigh. She stifled a moan at the contact. He wrapped one arm around the thigh resting against the back of the couch, pinning her in place. His other hand traced up the inside of her opposite leg, gently pushing it further out, opening her to him completely.

He looked at her again, her chest rising and falling from breathlessness. She made no move to stop him, so he descended upon her. He brushed his nose along the seam of her entrance. Her inhale sharp and sudden as he trailed it over her clit. His tongue soon followed, dragging along from the base of her entrance, dipping in to collect her honeyed essence on his tongue. He moaned at her flavor, his cock now hard and straining against his trousers. His tongue languidly found its way up to her clit, gently circling around it. The needy whimper she made was music to his ears, encouraging him to recreate an intricate dance over her sensitive pearl.

He brought his hand up and spread her lips, before flicking over her bud with the strong muscle. She cried out, her hand winding its way into his hair. He grinned in satisfaction as she held him close to her. He gave his undivided attention to that bundle of nerves. Alternating between the tip and flat of his tongue pressing against her. She called his name when he wrapped his lips around her pearl and sucked. Her head was thrown back in complete bliss. She didn’t hold back any of her pleasured moans, and he relished the sound.

He buried his face further into her, moving to dip his tongue deep in her core. Her hips bucked, seeking more stimulation. Lucien was all too happy to oblige. A quick kiss to her clit and he backed away. Running his fingers through her wetness, he coated the digits before sinking two into her awaiting opening. He almost came from the pleasured cry she released.

Encouraged by her voice, his lips wrapped around her pearl again. He thrust his fingers a few times, feeling along the velvety walls for the spot that would make her see stars. Upon finding it, he began to massage the spot with the pads of his fingers. More of her essence flowed from her, dripping onto the cushions below and coating the fabric with evidence from how good he was making her feel.

He could stay here, licking her core for hours if she’d let him. Cauldron, he prayed she would let him. She was so sweet, with just the right hint of musk. She squirmed her hips, but his grip on her only tightened. Her walls began to clamp around his long fingers as they continued to massage against that soft spot. Pride filled his chest. She was going to come soon, surprisingly quickly too. Not wanting to disappoint his love he wrapped his lips around her clit again and sucked harshly. She cried out as her legs began to shake. Lucien sped up the pace of his fingers inside her, matching it with the flicking of his tongue against her bud. Within seconds she came. Hard. Her walls pulsated with the pounding of her heart. He slowed his movements, but didn’t stop, wanting to savor the taste of her just a little longer.

The sound of thunder roared through the manor, instantly jolting Lucien from the dream. He growled at the fact that nature had the gall to disturb and wake him. He turned his head to the side to see the chilled droplets of water splattering against the window of his room. The human lands were always dreary this time of year. Actually, to be honest they were dreary in general, regardless of the time of year. However, that was probably to be expected south of the wall. Even with the wall gone these past five years magic had largely stayed within the Prythian Fae lands.

Lucien groaned again, his hands rubbing along his face. He threw off the cream colored wool blanket, leaving him only covered by the matching cotton sheet. He shifted his legs only to feel the sheet get caught on his hard cock. Looking down he grunted in frustration. This hadn’t been his first sex dream, but it was the first where (Y/N) was involved.

He was with her just the day before and wondered if this was the reason she occupied his thoughts. Her scent had been intoxicating as they sat on the couch together, basking in each other’s company. If he had to be honest with himself the dream was just a manifestation of the actions he wanted to take before they were interrupted. He groaned again. He shouldn’t be thinking of her this way. She was his friend. Yet, he couldn’t help it when the memory of her bare breasts would sneak past his defenses in the middle of the day.

He took several deep breaths, hoping that would help him calm down. After a few minutes he could no longer stand the throbbing sensation of his member. Pulling the sheets back he looked down at his body. His cock stretched up towards his navel, hovering just above his torso. The tip glistened as lighting lit up the room. He sighed, having no choice other than to take care of the issue.

Lucien allowed his hand to traverse down his body. If he was going to do this he may as well make it enjoyable. His large hand reached the part of him begging for attention. Gently he traced the tips of his fingers down the underside of his shaft, the touch caused him to hiss through his teeth. He continued on downward to massage his scrotum. His hips canted up as pleasure bloomed. He called forth an image of Elain in his mind. Surely it was permissible for him to think of his mate in this context, even if she was still processing the mating bond and didn’t appear to want anything to do with him. They had the time for her to process and come to a decision. So, he could let his imagination build an idea of her in his head.

His hand went to his shaft, thumb spreading the pearl beads of liquid that flowed out. He continued to hold the picture of Elain in his mind, but it was a struggle. He kept having to consciously drag his mind back to her as it kept wandering to thoughts of (Y/N). His hand caressed along his length until it was flush against his base, squeezing as it traveled down. He performed the same action as his hand returned to the head of his cock. More liquid spilled forth and the image of (Y/N)’s tongue licking the substance from his tip slammed to the forefront of his mind.

He moaned at the mental image of the woman, bent over between his legs. He spread them further apart ever so slightly as to make space for her body. He truly wondered what her mouth would feel like wrapped around him. How far would she be able to take him? Would she have to use her hand to caress what she couldn’t fit? How would her mouth compare to being inside her. He could easily picture her perched above him, slowly lowering herself to allow his cock to breach her warm cunt.

Lucien warmed his hand to the temperature he imagined would wrap around him once he was fully sheathed inside. The moan that left his lips was louder than he intended. He quickly brought his free hand to his lips to muffle any other sounds that may slip out without his permission.

He picked up the pace as he continued to picture her bouncing above him. An image of the way her breasts would bounce with the movement entered his mind. He remembered how full and heavy they looked. Gods, he had desperately wanted to wrap his lips around her peaked nipples that morning in the Day Court.

He wondered if things would have been any different if they had given into their desires that night, or even that morning when they sobered up. Would he be able to act upon the thoughts that filtered through? Allow himself to sink deep into her warmth as they made love? His hand continued running up and down, up and down, giving quick and firm squeezes as needed along the most sensitive parts of his shaft. He could feel pressure building in the pit of his lower abdomen, his balls tightening by a fraction. His hand moved faster as the mental version of (Y/N) rotating her hips. She would do her best to reach her own climax, wanting her euphoria to peak in time with him.

Lucien stroked his member a few more times before that pressure boiled over. Ropes of cum spurted forth, coating parts of his abdomen. The orgasm went on longer than any he had before. A second wave caused his seed to dribble over his hand. His hand slowed and eventually stopped.

Pulling away from his softening length he slowed his breathing. He sat up, bringing his legs over the side of the bed. Standing, he walked over to the small pitcher and basin that rested on the top of the narrow dresser in the corner of his room. He quickly cleaned himself off and returned to the bed. As he returned to a horizontal position the reality of what he did finally caught up with him.

He came to the thought of his best friend riding him. Why? What the hell was wrong with him? It was true he missed her, despite spending more time with her in secret. Maybe that was the reason the image of her was called to his mind. Since Elain continued to push him aside, his mind instead conjured the female he missed the most, giving him pleasure he didn’t even know he craved.

It was hard to admit, but the time spent with the otherworldly woman occupied his thoughts more and more frequently. He could only assume that his growing affection was due to the time spent with her. (Y/N) never truly wanted him out of her life. Their agreement to separate was just to stop the others from talking and meddling in what should have been just between him and his friend.

Besides, he didn’t believe that she would be interested in him in that regard. Not when she had become so close to Ruhn. The way that the male looked at her, his need to constantly touch her and her easy acceptance of that affection sent a pang through Lucien’s chest. Yes, she was more likely to be interested in Ruhn than him. Lucien made himself believe his feelings weren’t more than a quick and fleeting infatuation anyway. She could actually create a life with Ruhn. Lucien concluded that he should let her have that life, if she so chooses. He would be perfectly content to continue their friendship.

With his thoughts starting to settle, he listened to the rain that continued its assault on the manor he shared with Vassa and Jurian. Soon after he drifted off to sleep, but his dreams wouldn’t so easily let her go. Later that morning, Lucien found himself repeating the cycle from the night before. Perhaps he was in more trouble than he wanted to admit.

The smell of sauteed garlic filled the townhouse when you entered. Having just returned from the Day Court with Lucien, your stomach rumbled. The week you spent there had been fruitless yet again. You were starting to believe that the information you so desperately sought simply did not exist. It had been too long without any real headway. Which didn’t make any sense. According to Nesta, one of the Night Court priestesses had, at one point, compiled research regarding other worlds. Therefore, the sources should reasonably exist. Then again, her research was more about proving the existence of other worlds, not necessarily travel between them.

Still you clung on to some version of hope. For your next trip you were planning on going to a much older library set in the middle of the Day Court territory. According to Helion it was the oldest library in Prythian, built along the edge of a river. He explained that not only did the library house books and scrolls, but it held artifacts as well. You had to admit that you were excited for that aspect. If you couldn’t find a way home you could at least learn as much about this land that you found yourself in.

“Ouch! Shit!” Ruhn’s shout interrupted your thoughts. You made your way into the kitchen to see said male using one hand to pour scalding water into the basin of the sink. He shook his other hand at his side, likely from the splash of the water as it hit the porcelain.

“What is all this?” You asked, glancing around at the chaos. The kitchen island was covered in debris from cut vegetables, herbs, and what appeared to be a partial cheese wedge. At least three saucepans were on the stove top, not including the large pot he held. Ruhn chuckled nervously as he twisted to face you.

“You’re, uh, a bit early,” He set the pot back on the stovetop. “I was hoping to have this done by the time you got here.” You were utterly confused.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” You pointed out. You made your way further into the kitchen, the smell of garlic and onion making your stomach growl.

“Well, I would hope that’s a bit obvious.” He smiled and your stomach filled with butterflies. “But in case it isn’t, I made you dinner.” You didn’t know how to react. It was by far one of the sweetest gestures you had received in a while. It seemed that most of the people in your life were fond of giving gifts, so something as simple as a homemade dinner was new.

“Okay,” You still didn’t understand why he would go through this trouble of making dinner. “Why?” You couldn’t help but be cautious. While Ruhn had given you no reason to doubt his intentions, gestures like this reminded you of a past negative relationship. One of your ex’s would perform these grand gestures or even small acts of service, only to remind you of his “generosity” when he wanted something.

Ruhn didn’t answer, but simply smiled as he continued moving about the kitchen. Cooked noodles and a few veggies were tossed into a white sauce that bubbled on the stove top. He gathered a couple of plates, setting them on the only clear spot between the stove and sink. One of his shadows managed to fetch a pair of crystal wine glasses from the cupboard. You could smell the sharp sweetness of the pale wine as he poured half a glass for you.

“Come on Ruhn,” You placed a hand on top of his to gain his attention. “What is this all for?”

“Today’s your birthday isn’t it?” The question rattled you. It took a few seconds for you to begin the mental calculations, and sure enough he was right. Today was your birthday. Ruhn had resumed plating the pasta dish, and therefore missed your stunned expression, surprised by the fact that he remembered. Then again, he was the only one that even knew. The reminder that no one else had even bothered to ask in the years that you had been here stung. However, you were determined to not let that ruin his thoughtfulness.

“Follow me,” He instructed, rounding his way around the island, both plates in hand and piled high with the best smelling white wine garlic sauce that you could imagine. Excited for what the night could bring you followed as he instructed.

You had gotten through half of your meal when Ruhn placed a rectangular black box slightly larger than your palm on the table directly in front of you. Your laughter fizzled out as you stared at the object. The butterflies were back, swirling around and threatening to fly up and out of your throat. You hadn’t expected any of this, neither dinner nor a gift, when you told him of your birthday.

“Happy Birthday, again,” He smiled. The expression was so genuine and filled with adoration. Your heart stuttered. You looked between him and the box with wide eyes. It had been nearly four years without anyone even bothering to ask about your birthday. You were aware of everyone else’s birthdays, and at least the approximate time for Cassian’s. Everyone else received at the very least well wishes and at most celebrations were held. Yet still no one had directly asked you about yours.

“That’s not,” You had to swallow the lump that was forming. You could only point to the object lying before you. “That’s not-”

“It’s not jewelry,” He chuckled, “If that’s what you’re worried about.” You let out a relieved sigh.

“What is it then?”

“You’ll have to open it if you want to find out.” He reasoned, sliding the box closer towards you. With nervous fingers you reached for it. The item was simple and reminded you of thick cardboard. The lid slid off easily, the bottom half thunking slightly against the wooden table top. Inside was what resembled a smartphone. The large black screen was dark and reflected the lights from the small chandelier above.

Confusion crossed your features. What were you supposed to do with a cell phone living in Prythian? You couldn’t exactly use it. There were no cell towers or access to any network that would allow you to make calls or send messages. The only thing that it could be used for is a place to store music and photos. Maybe even a game that didn’t require any internet. You also had no way of keeping the phone powered up. From what you could gather, faelights and firstlight were entirely different energy sources from each other and different from the energy sources you had on Earth. So what was the reason for a gift like this? It wasn’t as if you weren’t grateful, just confused.

“Turn it on,” Ruhn encouraged. He clearly knew something that you didn’t. You could tell the male was eager for you to find out whatever it was he had planned. You followed his instruction, powering on the device. The screen lit up, slowly going from one load screen to the next. The names of the manufacturing company and service provider were different from your own, yet still provided a sense of familiarity. When the phone finally loaded, you were greeted with an image you thought would be forever lost to you.

The background image of the phone’s home screen was the most recent picture you had taken of your nephew before your life had changed. For the briefest of moments everything went still as you stared at the image. You had no words. You weren’t even sure if you were breathing as the tears brimmed your eyes.

Slowly Ruhn reached over, tapping one of the two icons and a music player replaced your homescreen. He scrolled down, titles of songs flying by. It took you a moment to realize that you recognized some of them. Your brows furrowed, confusion blooming yet again. You tried to remember if there had ever been any discussion of your world having the same songs or artists as those on Midgard, but your mind came up empty. There was no way…

Your question was answered as Ruhn backed out of the music app and opened the phone’s image gallery. Your gasp was audible. Tiles of images from your life on Earth filled the screen. You scrolled through the gallery. Eventually you came to a few that you didn’t initially recognize. You clicked on the tile, causing it to expand. The image of you holding Nyx at your first Starfall forced the tears to drip from your eyes. You scrolled right to view another image. One where Ruhn had joined you and the little heir. Waves of longing washed over you.

“I-I…H-,” You lifted your hand towards your throat as you struggled to find your voice. “How?” Your tongue felt heavy as you tried to retain some composure. You couldn’t look at the male, afraid that you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself together. This was without a doubt the most thoughtful gift you had received in your life.

“I asked my friend, Declan,” Ruhn explained, his voice uncharacteristically soft and timid. “He’s a tech genius.” You continued to scroll through the new images. You had been completely unaware that your picture was being taken as often as it was, most of the images being candid shots of you and Ruhn together. You almost didn’t recognize yourself. Not just because your body had clearly adjusted to a life with less processed foods and regular exercise, but you appeared happy in every picture with the male. Genuinely happy. When did that happen?

“Why?” The question was a hushed whisper. This didn’t make any sense. Why would he do this for you? Why was he doing anything for you? Even if Lucien asked him to help make sure you stayed safe, Ruhn was under no obligation to go to the extent that he has for you. So why?

“Dec managed to transfer over most of the music and photo data that was on your phone,”

Ruhn continued, dragging his chair closer towards you. “We weren’t even sure if it would work, but I’m happy it did.”

“What do you mean?” He looked puzzled, as if the answer, his motivation was the most obvious thing in the world. The obvious reason would be that he considered you a friend. But that reason alone wasn’t sufficient for all that he did.

“I-I don’t understand,” Words were failing you as you continued to stare at the phone. “Why…are you so good to me?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He continued to speak as if the answer was obvious. “You deserve to feel special and cared for. You’re important to me and I…care about you.”

“You care about me?” You finally turned to look at him.

“Yes.” He smiled again.

“You asked your friend to-” You had to swallow before your words got away from you. “This…all of this is because you care about me?”

“Yes.” His chuckle was gentle as he brushed his knuckles against the side of your face. You hadn’t realized how close his face was to yours. Your eyes flitted down to the curve of his full mouth, and before you could stop yourself you pressed your lips against his. Your body felt alight, zapped and thrumming with electricity. You pulled away just as quickly, eyes going wide. You didn’t mean to kiss him. Or at least, you think you didn’t mean to. Your emotions just took over. Surely he would understand that it was an accident.

“I’m…I’m sor-” But your words were muffled as he chased your kiss with one of his own. As your lips met for a second time, everything slowed down and sped up simultaneously. Ruhn’s hold on you felt like a dream, his large warm hands cradling your face. Electricity skittered down your spine as one of the hands moved towards the back of your neck. A familiar gentle tug at your roots settled the nerves that raced through your veins.

As you eased into the kiss, your hands came to rest on his shoulders to help ground yourself. You felt as if you were floating; though you weren’t entirely sure that you would have minded if you never came back down. All thoughts in your mind jumbled and turned fuzzy as his lips caressed and melded with your own. With each passing second you craved more of him.

You almost wondered if he was able to read your thoughts when his hands drifted down your body, dancing over every curve until they found the small of your back. He pulled you closer towards the edge of your chair, before separating your mouths, breaths intermingling between you.

Quicker than you could comprehend, you felt your body being lifted. The next thing you knew you were planted on the table top with Ruhn placed between your thighs as he towered over you. Plates and utensils clanged against each other and your wine glasses rattled from the force your bodies had on the wood. Your head was forced to angle up in order to reach his lips again. As you reconnected, Ruhn’s tongue traced along the seam of your closed lips. Without any hesitation you opened up to him, allowing him the opportunity to explore.

Kissing Ruhn made you feel alive, blood vibrating with the racing of your heart. Goosebumps rose along every inch of skin as his hands wandered over your body. His kiss was all encompassing, every one of your senses on high alert and zoned in on the feel of him against you. The only sounds in the room consisted of your mingled breaths and the repeated meeting of your lips.

Ruhn’s calloused hand traveled down the side of your waist, passing over your hips to come to rest on your lower left thigh. Fingers wrapped around the back of your knee, grip tight and secure. In a fluid motion he tugged you forward, wrapping the limb around his hip. The movement caused you to fall back, but you caught yourself on your elbows. Ruhn leaned over you, pushing you further back to lay flat against the table.

Excitement raced through you at the thought of him taking you in the middle of the dining room. Ruhn’s mouth separated from yours and began to trace along the side of your neck. His quick breaths tickled your skin. Your hands traveled up his arms, one lingering on his bicep while the other continued to wrap tightly in his hair. You guided him to a spot on your neck that made your toes curl. Ruhn sucked on the spot of your pulse point, just below your ear. You whimpered at the tingling sensation that shot down the right side of your body, warmth spreading throughout your core. Gods, you wanted him. Wanted him sheathed deep inside you, rutting and grinding to bring you to the brink of an orgasm.

“Fuck Ruhn,” You moaned. He grunted in reply, doubling down on his attention to that spot on your neck. Something nagged at the back of your mind, but you shoved it aside. Soon his lips trailed further down, kissing their way along the front of your throat and collar bones. His head dipped lower, down to your cleavage.

“Ruhn,” You whined. “Slow-slow down.” However, it appeared he was too lost in his lust to have heard you. That nagging sensation in the back of your mind appeared again.

“Ruhn, baby,” You tried to gain his attention again. “I need-”

“I love it when you say my name.” His mouth moved back as he hummed, lowering the collar of your dress. In another motion he moved aside the cup of your bra, exposing one breast to the cool air of the dining room. You could feel the bud peak from the sudden lack of warmth. His nose brushed around your nipple, and your hips canted up toward his pelvis. Your response surly was a favorable one as in the next instance his mouth enveloped the stiff bud.

“Oh Gods!” You pulled at the roots of his midnight hair as his tongue began to gently lave over your nipple. “Ruhn, please wa-”

“It’s okay Lidia. I’ve got you.” His words forced reality to slam back into you like the coldest winter winds.

“What did you just say?” You grabbed his face, forcing Ruhn to look at you. The blue of his irises were nearly obscured by the blown pupils. “Ruhn!”

“What?” Ruhn blinked in surprise at the strength the woman used to push him away. His hands had to brace themselves on the edge of the table so that he didn’t fall on top of her.

“You just called me Lidia,” Her voice was strained. The expression on her features a mix of emotions, each one vying to overtake the other to gain control of how she would react.

“No,” Ruhn’s voice was breathless as he reeled back to a standing position above her. “No. Fuck…I-I didn’t...” Guilt washed over him as he looked at the woman before him. What the fuck was wrong with him? He didn’t mean to say that name. He knew that he was with (Y/N). He was ecstatic that he was finally getting to hold and touch her in the way he craved since well before their first Starfall. He allowed his mind to be clouded by lust.

“Was she…was Lidia the female that saved your life?” (Y/N)’s tone was somber, yet held a slight wobble. Ruhn looked down, afraid to meet her pained gaze. He noticed that her naked breast was still on display. Her eyes followed his stare and she hastily fixed her dress to cover herself.

“I…” He tried to swallow his shame. “Yes, but I didn’t-”

“Yet you did Ruhn,” She moved off the table. Arms wrapping around herself, she sat back in her chair.

“She doesn’t mean anything,” He tried to reassure her, but even he knew that it was a lie. He didn’t understand, honestly he didn’t allow himself to understand exactly what Lidia meant to him. His feelings were jumbled like a pile of worms. A perfect reflection of how he currently felt looking at how she caved in on herself.

The situation with Lidida was complex to say the least. He had grown to care for Agent Daybright. Hel, he had suspicions that there was something greater at work that brought them together. That was until he found out who she really was. Day, his Day, was none other than The Hind. The very same female known for hunting down and destroying any rebel life that dared make itself known on her radar. But Lidia had been a double agent. Years later and Ruhn was still trying to wrap his head around this revelation.

“Don’t. Don’t do that.” (Y/N) begged. Ruhn couldn’t focus his attention on the present moment.

“Do what? Baby I-”

“DON’T LIE TO ME!” Her bitter yell shot down his spine. “Please.” He was shocked that she yelled, actually yelled. He couldn’t blame her for that though. He called her by another female’s name. Something that no one deserved, but especially her. Ruhn knew that (Y/N) already had doubts and insecurities. He had vowed to himself that he would build her up, make her see just how desirable and worth loving she was. He thought he had finally succeeded when she initiated that first kiss. Yet despite his physical attention being on her, his use of the wrong name unraveled everything in an instant.

“I’m not an idiot, so please do not try to play this off,” She began, her voice taking on an edge of cynicism. However, she took a breath before continuing. “I recognize that it’s complicated, at least from what little Bryce told me, but Lidia clearly meant something to you.” Complicated was putting it in the most simplistic of terms. When he found out who Lidia was, he felt betrayed. Played like a fiddle for a fool. It didn’t matter how much the female tried to talk to him through whatever bond had been forged. It didn’t matter how he would always regret shutting her out during that week, only for her to die making sure that he got out safe and alive.

“Bryce talked to you about Lidia?” Ruhn’s own voice hardened. He felt like he had been punched in the gut. He had intentionally never mentioned Lidia’s name to (Y/N) before. He didn’t see the need since the female was no longer living and all of his attention was focused on the woman by his side day in and day out.

“Well you certainly didn’t,” She snapped. “And I still had to ask her several times before she finally gave any information.” The (h/c) woman sighed, shoulders slumping forward from an invisible heaviness.

“Why did you ask her?” Ruhn knew the answer. Ruhn knew that he rarely even talked about the events that lead to him getting involved with the human rebellion against the Asteri. But it was for good reason. His life had been completely turned upside down, he didn’t want to add on to anyone else’s shit. It didn’t matter that Hunt argued that (Y/N) would understand. Ruhn didn’t want to add the burden of his feelings on to her, not with all she had been through.

“You wouldn’t open up, and I didn’t know what else to do!” She almost seemed defeated by her growing frustration. “Did you really think that I didn’t notice there were days where you were struggling? Did you think I didn’t notice when you became distant? Your gaze unfocused and attention elsewhere? Did you think that I wouldn’t listen?” Her accusation stung. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to tell her. Ruhn couldn’t. He couldn’t tell her any of this. For all that he wanted he just couldn’t open up to her. It was his job to take care of her, not the other way around. Not when her existence meant so much. But he had failed her too. He hurt her and there was no excuse. His throat constricted with remorse.

“We’ve spent nearly four years getting to know each other,” The soft laugh that escaped her sounded beaten and on the verge of breaking. “Three of those years have been spent sleeping in the same bed almost every night. You have supported me in ways that I will never ever be able to repay. You know so much about me and my needs. I know next to nothing about you.” She wiped at her cheek, flicking away the tear that managed to slip past. He wanted to reassure her, but all he could manage was to remain silent and unmoving. The shame kept him frozen. Who knew that a single name could cause such turmoil?

“I’ve tried Ruhn. I have asked questions about your life and your interests. All to see if you would open up to me in the ways I have shared with you; but I feel constantly shut out from anything that is meaningful. I don’t know what else to do.” Another silent tear slipped down. She sounded so tired.

“I know that everyone heals in their own time, and I don’t want to force you to do something that you are not ready for. But if there is to be anything between us,” Her tone became a plea, “If there are any genuine feelings, then I need you to share yourself with me. I want to know who you are and support you when you need comfort. It is only fair.” Ruhn knew that she was right. That Hunt was right. She would be the only one that would be able to understand the upheaval and veering trajectory that his life had taken.

“I also,” She suddenly became much more hesitant. “I also need to know that you are able to differentiate me from her. I shouldn’t have to compete with a ghost. I deserve more than to be a consolation prize.” Her last statement felt like a slap in the face. He knew she didn’t deserve that, but he also recognized how easy it was for her to feel that way. Lidia essentially gave her life for Ruhn. He would forever feel responsible and grateful to her. So when he referred to the woman in front of him by his almost lover, he made all of her insecurities come true.

“I am so sorry,” His voice cracked, desperate to apologize. “That was a fucking shitty thing for me to do. You don’t deserve that. I-I know that. I just…” How was he supposed to explain something that he didn’t fully understand?

“It’s fine,” The words were clipped, acidic and dismissive. This situation was a far cry from fine as she looked away. He wished she would rage and lash out at him, not this quiet acceptance of suffering. Didn’t she feel safe enough to speak her mind and show all of her emotions with him?

“You don’t need to explain anything tonight. Take the time that you need, and know that I am here if you need me,” The sentiment was sincere, even if her voice felt empty as she continued to stare off into the corner. “But I think that it may be best for us to sleep in separate rooms. At least for a few days.” His breath shuddered, throat closing as he held back his own tears, but he nodded his agreement. He didn’t want to be separated from her, but understood why she wanted some space.

“Do-” He cleared his throat. “Do you want the tonic then?” He fiddled with one of the rings on his hand. He sent a shadow to collect the bottle from the spot he kept it stored.

“Yes,” Her tone wavered. “I can mix it though. You should get some rest.” The bright clinking of the bottle hitting the table was deafening in the now quiet dining room. Ruhn watched in silence as she uncorked her liquid salvation, splashing a few drops into the rest of her wine. He didn’t stop her. Her gaze remained averted, fingers gracefully lingering on the stem of the clear glass. He moved to get a better look at her.

“(Y/N),” His voice died in his throat at the emptiness he found in her gaze. She shifted her face ever further away, a clear indication that their conversation for the evening was over.

General tag list: @loving-and-dreaming

Series tag list: @jenniferpendragon @impossibelle @sweet-chai-amore @myheartfollower @iimichie

@fightmedraco @nikkitch0703 @eerievixen @ang-taylorsversion

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@jpgtae @cheneyq @morganwdarius @latinxbipride @catharticlovewriter

#acotar x reader #crescent city x reader #azriel x reader #lucien x reader #lucien vanserra x reader #ruhn x reader #lucien vanserra x plus size reader #azriel x plus size reader #ruhn danaan x plus size reader #ruhn danaan x reader #bhinfic #acotar smut #lucien vanserra smut

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