Okay, I'm starting this account honestly for fun, and I really hope you all enjoy it. I'm basically just here to write imagines for characters that I like and to get ideas out of my head.
I can't promise I'll answer them all, but submissions are welcome.
I do, however, have a couple rules for this page.
Please be kind and respectful to everyone, this is going to be a safe space for anyone who needs it. Please respect my writing, I understand that it isn't for everyone and I'm okay with that.
I'm not going to tolerate anything regarding racism, homophobia, transphobia, or anything of the sort. This is a safe space. If you notice something, please bring it to my attention.
Posts will be slow, as I'm not inconsistent and depressed. My mental health is always going to take priority for me.
I'm attempting to write a hefty imagines book on my Wattpad called ERAS (not published yet) and so a lot of these will probably be from there, I'm not sure if I'll make a masterlist on here for it or not but I'll def try to add the Wattpad link into each of them
All of my work is going to be multifandom, but I go through phases so they'll be posted in chunks. I'll eventually create a masterlist, probably once I have a good number of one shots posted :)
I'm still learning how to use Tumblr so please be patient with me, it might take me a little while to navigate.
AUTHORS NOTE: sorry it's been so long guys, I'm working on writing an original book and I've been super focused on that, I'm not sure how frequent I'll be posting on here but hopefully it's more than I have been. This is just a cute little blurb that came to mind a while that I didn't quite know how to make into words lol
also this is inspired by Sippin' On Sunshine by Avril Lavigne
LENGTH: 1190
The scent of strawberries wafted along on the summer breeze, mixing with the salty tang of the water around them. The Summer Court had been dealing with a heavy, warm rain the last few days and it had finally â finally â brightened into a cloudless blue sky. Her rich, dark skin was warmed by the sun as she climbed the little ladder out of the water onto Tarquinâs personal barge.
(Y/N) squinted up at the sun, but she couldnât help but grin. She had missed this. Both the time with her High Lord and time out on the water. It had been ages since Tarquin had been able to take a break from his duties, and being newly appointed he hadnât wanted to ask for time. She understood, but had missed him all the same.
Today, however, Cressida had promised to take care of things and field questions into requests that he could answer later. Meetings had been postponed, tasks had been put on hold, and papers had been neatly filed for the following day.
I made him take the day, Cressida had told her that morning, brown eyes twinkling with rarely expressed amusement. Go enjoy it.
And they had.
It had started off as a tour through the city where (Y/N) was able to see what repairs had been done in the aftermath of both Amarantha and the attack on Adriata. As an architect, (Y/N) had been responsible for many of the adjustments made to the palace. That was how she had first met Tarquin.
Now, standing on his barge three years later, she couldnât be happier than he had honoured her by giving her that chance. She had loved him quickly, drawn in first by his beauty, and then enthralled by his genuine compassion for others and his dreams to change they way the fae were structured.
It wasnât long into knowing each other that he confessed he had feelings for her, and they had been together ever since.
The last three years had been filled with both good and bad moments. Being a new High Lord meant Tarquin had much to learn, and part of that was politics. He often came to their chambers in the night exhausted and frustrated, sometimes on the brink of tears. (Y/N) did what she could, but being a simple architect, she couldnât offer much council.
He never seemed to mind. Not once had he made her feel as if she needed to be more than who she was. She adored him for it.
A pair of damp arms wrapped around her causing her to let out a squeak; they were cold. Tarquin had just come out of the water.
(Y/N) turned in his grasp to look up at him, unable to keep her smile contained. He was utterly ethereal in the sunlight.
The brilliance of it making the dark colour of his skin warm, his turquoise eyes matching the colour of the ocean surrounding them. The bright light warmed his hair until it glowed; though she had only ever seen it in art, it was like snow in the sunshine.
âHello,â she murmured, smiling up at him.
A rare smile and beautiful curved his mouth. âHello, my love,â he murmured in return, his head tilting slightly.
She exhaled a content sigh and leaned her head forward to rest on his chest, droplets of water clinging to her face. The rise and fall of his chest was natural and relaxed; there wasnât a hint of stress in him.
Good, he deserved to feel calm.
It had been a long time since any of them had.
âHow are you?â He asked her, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.
(Y/N) smiled against him. âWonderful. The sun feels amazing.â She had been laying on the boat, soaking up the warmth for a good hour now.
âIt has been a long time since we both were able to appreciate it, hasnât it?â Tarquin mused, his smile sending a flurry through her stomach.
Beautiful.
He was beautiful.
She had always thought so, even before they had become friends.
A warm gust of summer wind blew over the ocean, sending goosebumps across her warm skin. (Y/N) shuddered.
Tarquin rubbed his hands up and down her arms in an attempt to make them go away. Though he had been in the water for so long, his palms were warm. He was always warm.
She nestled into his grasp with a small smile, relishing the moment. It was rare she got to keep him for more than a few hours a day, and she was loving this. She made a mental note to get Cressida something extraordinary as a thank you.
A soft chuckle rumbled through his chest, and her smile grew.
Then she let him go and looked up at him, grinning. "Swim?" She asked, rolling her lips inward in an attempt to hide her smile.
His face lit up immediately.
(Y/N) didn't give him the chance to respond before she leapt over the edge, letting out a small shriek as she hit the cool water.
She reached the surface just in time to see Tarquin dive in after her, ever the more graceful one. He hardly made a splash as he went under.
(Y/N) watched his blurry figure come toward her under the water until his arms had hooked around her hips and he hoisted her up as he broke the surface. She couldn't help but laugh as he allowed her to slip slightly in his grasp until his arms were around her waist and her face was level with his.
Without hesitation, (Y/N) hooked her arms around his neck and hastily pressed her mouth to his. He returned the gesture immediately.
Despite the shocking temperature difference, she positively floating. Metaphorically and literally. This was one of the best days she had ever had, especially since the war.
His arms around her were warm and comforting, and (Y/N) knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she could stay in them forever. She murmured those exact words out loud, and Tarquin's grip on her tightened. "Me too," he murmured and buried his face into the crook of her neck.
(Y/N) absently brought her hands up to tangle in his white hair, holding him as close to her as she possibly could, practically clinging to him.
Naturally, Tarquin didn't have any issues with treading water for the both of them, though she suspected he was using his abilities to keep them afloat as well. She didn't care how he did it.
Her skin had acclimatized to the water now, so she wasn't shivering anymore. Everything was blissful and calm and perfect.
Tarquin looked up and gently pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes as her a rms looped around his neck. "You are my peace," he whispered to her after a moment, a soft and content smile forming on his face.
Her heart fluttered, and she shifted her hands so she was holding his face in her palms. "You're mine," she whispered back.
I love your writing style! So glad I came across your blog! Only found it today and itâs already brought me so much joy x
And Iâd love to read more of JealousyâŚ. Flynn has some explaining to do!
PROBLEMATIC || Tristan Flynn
AUTHORS NOTE: I'm so glad you like it! I always get nervous that itâs horrible. he absolutely does tho lmao, so here's the long awaited part two of Jealousy my dudes :)
I'm sorry it took so long, I hadn't actually planned on writing a part 2 to Jealousy tbh but quite a few of you liked it and wanted one so I've been scrambling lmao
also I feel like this is shit I'm so sorry
LENGTH: 7526 words
The knock on her bedroom door was faint but distinct.
Upon returning to her room, (Y/N) had hastily changed back into her pyjamas and promptly climbed under the covers while she considered of all the ways she would injure her brother after work the following morning. She would enjoy it, she thought as she closed her eyes. She would enjoy it thoroughly.
The knocking increased in rate and after a long minute of listening to it and the short breaks in between, she hauled herself out of bed and yanked the door open. âWhat the fuck do you want? Gods.â
The Flynn staring back at her was all-too-familiar. Pupils blown wide thanks to the amount of alcohol he had drank throughout the night, the top half of his shirt unbuttoned. She could see the scratch marks etched across his chest, likely from the female he had just been with. His pants were buttoned up but his belt was undone.
He had rushed, then.
Flynn licked his lips. âRuhn told you.â
She didnât bother denying it. âYeah, he did.â
He raked a hand through his mussed hair, his eyes glancing over everything but her. âWhat do you . . . what do you think?â
(Y/N) sighed quietly and slouched against the door frame. âI donât know, Flynn. Iâm honestly finding it a little hard to believe that you like me.â
âWhat the fuck does that mean?â Hurt reflected from his eyes.
She bit harshly at her bottom lip. âBecause you donât want that; especially not with me.â
Flynn stepped toward her, the cologned scent of him filling her senses. âWhat if I told you I do? I want that with you. I want you.â
Her mouth twisted into a bitter smile. âYou want me for a night, Flynn. Thatâs all you want. And I canât . . . do that. I canât be that for you for just one night because itâs going to ruin what the four of us have and come on, look at me. You guys are all I have and I wonât lose any of you over a quick fuck.â
And she would lose them, she knew that. It would make things more awkward with her brother than they already were. He would end up pissed at his friend and her for making everything weird. She wouldnât know how to act around Flynn after finding out just what he was capable of. Dec would be beyond uncomfortable and it would just throw their whole dynamic off.
He took a step closer.
(Y/N) could see the light stubble growing on his face now. He was close enough that she could see the ever-so-faint freckles dotting his face, too.
The conversation they were having seemed to have sobered him up because his words were no longer slurred. âWhat if I told you,â he breathed, âthat I have wanted more than a quick fuck with you for almost 2 decades now.â
âRuhn said 18 years,â (Y/N) whispered, averting her gaze.
He took another step toward her, and the door softly clicked shut behind him. âYeah,â he nodded, reaching out to gently place his hands on her upper arms, and she flinched as they pressed into the old scars on her arms. They didn't hurt anymore, but the memory of it . . . It took her a moment to look back at Flynn, and was drawn back to the conversation by his voice. "And for 18 years, I've wanted a lot more than to fuck you."
She inhaled sharply.
Flynn's lips rolled inward for a moment. "For 18 years, I've wanted to wake up beside you. Make you coffee and breakfast every morning. Take you for dinner. Out shopping. Anywhere you want to go. I've wanted to fall asleep with you in my arms every night and sleep in the next morning just so I can hold you."
He seemed to see in her eyes that she didn't believe him. "I can show you," he promised her, his tone gentler than she'd ever heard it. "I will show you."
"You're always with other girls," (Y/N) whispered, her mind absolutely swirling.
What the fuck is going on?
His brown eyes turned sad. "I knew you didn't feel for me the way I feel about you, youâve got so much going on that it never seemed like you would have time for it, anyway, so I just . . . carried on with what I usually do. I didn't think we'd ever have this conversation. As much as I care about you I couldnât just pine for something I couldnât have so I tried to move on, you saw how hard I tried even thought you didn't know it, but I just . . . thereâs no way Iâve found for me to move on from you. If Iâm being honest with you, (Y/N), I donât know if I want to.â
She hadnât realized she was holding her breath until Flynnâs thumb began moving back and forth in soothing swipes on her arm. It wasnât a horrible feeling, she decided as she considered all the other times he had done this. All in the last 18 years. He had definitely been more touchy with her, which she hadn't really taken into consideration. He just did it, and she went with it.
As she looked back, all of what he had said did line up with his actions.
So maybe . . . maybe he wasnât lying.
Flynn had always been honest with her, had never shied away from telling her exactly what he thought or felt. He didnât seem to want to start now.
But that little voice in her head got in the way. What if he changes his mind?
(Y/N) closed her eyes for a moment, then stepped away from his touch. âI need . . . I need to think,â she whispered, forcing herself to meet his gaze.
He nodded gently, raking a hand through his chestnut brown hair. âOkay,â he nodded, âget some sleep, itâs gonna be a long day for you tomorrow.â Then he winced. âAgain, sorry about that.â
All she could do was shrug in response, her head spinning. It was all too much.
She blinked twice as Flynn hesitantly pulled her in for a brief hug, as he had many times before. Now, it felt different. The way one hand rubbed her back didnât feel the same, nor did the way he set his chin on the top of her head.
A breath shuddered out of her as he let go.
Flynn leaned back and stared at her for a moment, eyes swimming with disappointment and another emotion she wasn't quite ready to acknowledge yet. âGood night,â she told him hoarsely as she pulled away.
He didn't say anything else as he ducked out of the room. (Y/N) locked the door behind him because she didn't want any party goers stumbling in; it had happened before.
After changing into her pyjamas she crawled under the covers on her bed and pull the end up so it was well over her head. She just laid there, hidden away from the world under her blankets where no one could reach her.
She tried her hardest, but she just couldn't fall asleep.
Fact 1: Flynn told her he had feelings for her.
He had some decent evidence to back it up, too. 18 years worth, apparently. She couldnât remember every moment of the last two decades, but she did remember him doing several odd things.
Becoming bitchy whenever she went on a date.
âCoincidentallyâ bumping into her while out on late night runs.
Remembering little comments she made and acting on them later.
Hell, earlier Ruhn had even said if we could stop flirting for Ruhnâs sake and she had dismissed it.
Fact 2: she didnât believe Flynn was serious in the slightest.
How could she when he spent the last two decades â during which he claimed to care for her â fucking anything that walked?
How was she meant to believe him when he had been so god damn cryptic?
(Y/N) exhaled a shaky breath that warmed her little bubble under the covers.
Between the party raging upstairs and the circles her mind continued to go in, it had been impossible. She spent the night in a state of near-hyperventilation with her hands over her ears in an attempt to block out the noise. It hadnât worked.
When it finally settled down in the wee hours of the morning and her alarm blared, she hauled herself from her safe place under the covers and picked out clothes for the day.
She worked for a relatively high end publishing company in the Central Business District across town, so she decided she would take her motorcycle. Maybe the adrenaline rush would be enough to snap her out of whatever was going on in her head.
She dressed quickly, her steps silent going up the stairs into the living room where she found a half naked Ruhn wrapped in the curtains from the sliding door. All she could do was roll her eyes.
It was so typical.
When she stepped into the kitchen to grab something quick for breakfast, she was left stunned to find Flynn hunched over the table, fast asleep, one cup of coffee in front of him and another steaming at the seat across from him. He had made her coffee. He actually had remembered.
Had actually gotten up in the last few minutes to make it before passing out at the kitchen table.
Unable to deny the small smile that quirked her mouth, she silently took the mug off the table beside him and took a sip. He had gotten it right, too. Just the right amount of cream with enough sugar to make an elephant diabetic.
(Y/N) took another sip and then grabbed left over pizza from the fridge and set it in the microwave to warm up. As it hummed away, she looked at him. Really studied him.
The natural waves of his hair hadnât paired well with whatever he had been doing the night before because it stuck up in every possible direction. He wore nothing but boxers and a bathrobe that looked like it had once been tied closed but the knot had come loose. He was hunched over the table with his head on his arms. His mouth was wide open, soft snores echoing out of it.
It was almost . . . endearing?
She didnât fucking know.
All she knew was that she needed some girl time. Since she didnât have many female friends, she took her pizza out of the microwave and sent a short text to the only person she knew she wanted to talk to right now. After quickly eating her pizza she slid her feet into a pair of shoes and left the house.
The ride to work was slow and unfortunately boring, and her shift wasnât much better. By the time it was over she had caught herself dozing off at least four times and had downed three cups of coffee. She was exhausted, but she still rose to the coffee shop five minutes away from the office.
When she got there, Bryce was already waiting at an outside table with a drink in front of her.
âI need advice,â (Y/N) told her bluntly, sitting down across from her.
Her sister brought her cup up to her mouth. âOn?â
âApparently Flynnâs in love with me.â
Bryce choked on her drink, her whiskey-coloured eyes wide. âSince when?â
âSince eighteen years ago, apparently,â (Y/N) snorted while nervously raking a hand through her tangled inky hair.
âHoly shit,â Bryce muttered and dabbed at her mouth with a paper napkin. âWell thatâs . . . â
âYeah.â
They both sat in silence for a moment. âHow did you find out?â
She spent the next ten minutes explaining it, falling into the old habit of gossiping with her little sister.
Bryce seemed to have temporarily put the disagreement aside for the story. âOf course it was Asshole who blabbed,â she scoffed, referring to their brother while taking a sip of her drink. âWhat did you say?â
âThat I didnât believe him. How could I when heâs spent the last, oh I donât know, 55 years fucking every female in Lunathion?â
âFair enough,â Bryce hummed. She tilted her head to the side, her curtain of wine red hair falling over one shoulder.
(Y/N) slouched in her chair and groaned. "I just don't know what to do."
"Well, do you like him?"
"I don't know, I've never really thought of him that way."
It was true. She had considered sleeping with him once or twice, but the thought of actually dating him had never occurred to her.
(Y/N) rubbed at her forehead. Gods, it was exhausting trying to figure this out.
âI sure have,â Bryce snickered.
Grinning at her, (Y/N) said, âtrust me I remember your notebooks.â
âThose were the days,â Bryce breathed out, her smile fading.
(Y/N) couldnât help but agree.
For a moment they lapsed into silence.
Then, âwhatever Ruhn said to you,â (Y/N) told her sister quietly, âI had no part in it.â
âI know,â Bryce admitted quietly. âI just . . . â she raked a hand through her hair. âWhen I think of him I think of you and I didnât want anything to do with him. I still donât.â
âThatâs fair.â
âBut this is â this is good,â Bryce murmured. âI missed you.â
(Y/N) couldnât help but smile at her across the table. âI missed you too, a lot.â
âWho knows about all this?â
âRuhn, Dec, and his boyfriend Marc know we talked, Iâm not sure if he told them what about. No one else but you, and they donât know Iâm talking to you right now.â
âLetâs keep it that way.â Then Bryce tossed her hair over one shoulder. âI say if heâs gonna make it so weird, you make him work for it.â
(Y/N) nodded slowly.
If he was going to want anything to do with her â if he wanted her to simply believe him â he needed to prove it. And she wouldnât make it easy for him.
Upon opening her front door, (Y/N) found herself laughing.
A very stoned, very hungover Ruhn sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in his hand, staring blankly at the room ahead of him, squinting. He wore the same clothes as he had the light before; he had changed out of the shower curtain.
Flynn seated beside him didnât seem much better. It looked like he was drinking the same cup of coffee he had made when he got hers ready this morning, now stone cold. Still in the bathrobe. Neither could be considered coherent.
She set her helmet on the kitchen counter loudly, causing their eyes to snap open in surprise. "You get a month, Flynn."
He understood immediately, blinking. Understood that she was saying prove it. "That's all I need."
"Don't make me regret this," she muttered, then picked up her helmet and took the stairs down to her bedroom.
After locking the door behind her, (Y/N) sat down on her bed and lightly tossed her helmet into the air as she stared at the wall. She didn't know what to feel.
Part of her was angry to know that they had all kept this secret from her for almost twenty years, though she understood why they had. Another part of her was still terrified that they were just fucking with her, that she would hesitantly open her heart to whatever this was and have it thrown back in her face. She knew she couldn't handle that.
For the most part, she felt overwhelmed.
A lump swelled in her throat, tears beginning to prick at her eyes.
It was all so confusing. Flynn had seen her in just about every mood imaginable. He had celebrated with her after winning a beer pong game, had bought her ice cream with Dec when she hadn't been able to stop crying after a bad day. He had even witnessed her literally throwing her first motorcycle and totaling it after becoming beyond angry with her father.
She had laughed with him. Snarked at him, bitched and complained and insulted. And he had chosen to care for her anyway.
How did that make any sense?
Tears began rolling down her cheeks, so she grabbed a pillow and hid beneath her blankets again. With her face buried in the pillow, (Y/N) spent gods only knew how long trying to control her breathing. She'd had panic attacks before, when she had been disowned. She knew what they felt like, and they felt a lot like this.
Time passed by in carefully counted breaths until she was brought back to the present by a faint chiming. Her phone.
She debated on ignoring it, pretending she was asleep. But she knew her boys, and whoever it was wouldn't leave her alone until they â likely having heard her panic attack â knew she was okay.
So she hauled herself up and wiped harshly at her eyes as she snatched her phone off the nightstand.
DEC: Asshole's up here pacing the kitchen trying to figure out of he should come down or not
(Y/N) snorted.
She could easily picture Flynn wearing a path into the floor, biting at his nails as he tried to make the ultimate first decision.
(Y/N): let him sweat it out, I only want him down here if he wants to be here, not because someone told him he should
DEC: he's worried it's too soon to start hovering.
She snickered through the tears.
(Y/N): he'll figure it out
She left it at that. Flynn would come down of his own volition, or she wouldn't let him in at all. She knew Ruhn or Dec wouldn't advise him, not if he wanted an actual shot at this.
256 breaths later, there was a knock at her door. She paused, deliberating, before she decided to open it.
Flynnâs hair was mussed up, like he had been raking a hand through it repeatedly. He had opted for sweats and a T-shirt instead of the housecoat, and held a steaming mug that smelled distinctly of peppermint in his hand. âHey,â he breathed.
She hummed, staring at the mug.
Noticing it, Flynn awkwardly held it out to her. âYou used to drink this when you were anxious, and youâre anxious right now, so uh . . . â
It took everything in her not to laugh.
She had never seen him at such a loss for words before. âThank you,â she murmured, gently taking it from his grasp.
He practically slouched in relief.
(Y/N) wandered over to the bed and sat down, settling herself so her legs were under the covers. Then she patted the space in front of her. Flynn took the hint and sat down, angling his body so he was facing her.
âTalk,â she said simply.
So Flynn began telling her the story of how he fell in love with her.
He had realized it out of the blue one day, apparently. Had been thinking about the party they were having that evening and his mind had wandered to her.
What she would wear.
What games she would participate in.
How she would dance with everyone, looking utterly carefree.
Then he wondered who she would dance with. Whether she would stick with him and Dec that night, or if she would find someone else to dance with her.
Another male, likely.
It had taken him a moment to realize he had been frowning. He hadnât understood why, what the twist in his gut was over the fact that she might not be dancing with him. He had felt it a lot in the recent few weeks.
Then the word was in the forefront of his mind.
Jealous.
He was jealous.
Of what?
He knew the answer faster than he wanted to admit.
That she might take that male to bed.
Flynn had spent the next few months trying to figure out why all of a sudden it mattered who she took to bed. It wasnât often that she did anyway, so he didnât have to worry.
But why was he worried?
Those months were some of the most confusing of his life, he told her.
It had taken him a ridiculously long amount of time to figure that he wanted her to take him to bed.
At first he was horrified with himself because this is Ruhnâs sister for fucks sake. He had known her since they were children.
But somehow, while he had been off fucking and partying to his hearts content, she had grown into a proud, beautiful woman that matched him mark for mark, hit for hit, point for point. Someone who challenged him, yet kept him centered all at once.
He had spiraled fantastically that night, and it was the drunkest he had gotten in years. And then the next morning he had found himself on the couch with a blanket draped over him and a glass of water on the side table by his head. He had known it wasnât Dec or Ruhn that did it, the both of them were just as poor as he was.
No, it had been her that got it for him, and something in him had changed. He wanted that, what she offered him. The . . . care. That's what he could best describe it as. The way she cared for him, not as a Lord's son, but as a person all around.
He had tried to figure out how he wanted to express it, if he wanted to express it. He wasn't sure how to do it without impacting his relationship with Ruhn. And then she had gone on a date with a fae male â neither of them could remember his name eighteen someodd years later â and she had come home happy because this male had brought her flowers and opened doors for her.
Flynn knew he wasn't that type of male. All he would likely ever be was a trashy party boy who didn't want to grow up, and (Y/N) deserved much better than that.
So he tried to get over her.
He smoked and drank and partied until he barely remembered his own name, night after night after night until his body physically needed a break. It hadnât worked, either. She was still the first thing on his mind when he sobered up in the morning.
As for the females . . . well. That was his next attempt at getting over her. It distracted him in the moment, it turned out â (Y/N) wasnât sure she wanted to know these details but she appreciated the honesty â but not for long.
So for the last eighteen years, Flynn had been trying his best to move on from the one girl he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
âAnd then the boys went and told you last night, and . . . yeah,â he finished.
He had been watching his hands for the majority of the story, and it was then that she realized he was holding a little stone.
Upon further inspection she realized there was a shittily-painted yellow flower on the smooth surface. His thumb smoothed over the design repeatedly, as if to calm himself down. The rock looked vaguely familiar, but she couldnât place where from.
Flynn looked up at her for the first time in a while and followed her gaze down to his hands. âOh, um . . . you painted this for me a couple years ago. With Bryce, when the two of you did a girls night.â
That was why it looked familiar.
A hazy memory of drunken giggles and lazy brush strokes came to mind, and a smile twitched at her lips. Any of her memories of Bryce put her in a good mood before making her want to cry, and this was no different. Tears pricked at her eyes.
"Fuck," Flynn muttered, sliding a hand through his hair. "I'm so sorry, it's not supposed to make you cryâ"
"âit just reminded me of Bryce," she murmured, allowing herself to sniffle once before pulling it together. (Y/N) cleared her throat and lifted her gaze from the stone to his eyes. "Why would you keep it? It looks horrible."
An unwitting smile crossed Flynn's face. "You were so happy when you gave it to me, (Y/N) seeing you laugh like that . . . " he dragged a hand over his face. "I want to make you that happy," he whispered, a vulnerability she had never seen from him displayed in his eyes. "I've already fucked it up, I know that, but I never thought you'd find out. I didn't want you to find out because I knew you'd say no, and then everything would be different for nothing and I can't . . . I'd rather have you in my life like this -- as a friend -- than not at all." A shaky inhale. "I'm sorry, I really am."
Her bottom lip trembled.
The secret romantic in her was screaming, begging her to give in to this feeling swelling up within her. But another part â the dominant part â was hesitant. He was right, what if this changed everything for nothing?
Bryce's words from earlier clattered through her mind.
Make him work for it.
"I'm giving you one chance, Flynn," she reminded him quietly, nudging his arm so he'd look at her. "But I'm not going to be the one you figure out if you want a relationship with. You're either in, or you're not. The choice is yours."
"That choice was made a long time ago," he murmured, the wry smile that often made he want to yank her hair out curving his mouth. "I'm in."
"Then show me," she whispered.
With the intensity in his eyes as they looked over her, she had to look away. It was more than she could handle right now.
Flynn smiled down at her, his hands fidgeting at his sides, like he wanted to do something but was refraining. âI plan to.â
The next handful of days were . . . odd, to say the least.
Overnight, Flynnâs personality had done a hundred and eighty degree turn. He still partied like he always did â (Y/N) wasnât sure that would ever change â but he hardly let any females near him. Any time someone touched him he shrugged off the gesture and took a step away, continuing the conversation.
She even heard him turn down Rebecca, one of his usual girls. He had been firm but polite, how he usually was with his parents, though less cold. Even knowing they had spoken about it, she was still baffled.
Each morning when she got up for work there was a cup of coffee with a little flower next to it on the table. Somehow, she knew he had grown it himself. The fact that it was different each morning, each with a different scent, somehow made it better.
Not that she would ever tell anyone, but she had started pressing them in books.
The memory of the effort it took him â waking up early for Flynn was a lot â often got her through the rough days at work where she considered quitting. That scared her. A part of her, albeit much smaller than it had been before, still worried that this was just some drawn out joke. That somehow in the end of this she would be beyond humiliated. (Y/N) knew she wasnât ready to handle that.
But then there was the other part to consider. The part where maybe he was serious. That maybe, just maybe, she wasn't as unlovable as she felt she was.
(Y/N) moved through the next two weeks with a great hesitance that the others had picked up on because Dec was unusually gentle with her, and even Ruhn was being kind. She wanted to scream at them that she didn't need it, that she wasn't scared like they were implying.
But she was.
Watching the dynamic between her mother and father growing up had ruined whatever faith she had in a happily ever after for herself. And then seeing what her father had done to Ember Quinlan, Bryce's mother, she had resigned herself to the thought of living her life in a loveless marriage. That was all she was capable of, wasn't it? But she had been disowned, and the world had become wide open to her. Love had been the last thing on her mind.
Now, she had no idea what to do.
There were days where the mere thought of going out there and facing them â facing Flynn in particular â were so overwhelming that she couldn't get out of bed. She went for coffee once more with Bryce, which helped, and they had begun to text somewhat regularly. It was nice to have her sister back.
On her panic days, when she eventually emerged from her bedroom she would always find a plate of whatever was made for dinner in the fridge for her, and a little flower outside her door.
That particular night, when (Y/N) had come home from an incredibly long and shitty day at work, she was met with an empty house. That was good, because she was ready to cry. She dropped her bag at the front door and kicked off her shoes, then shuffled down the hallway.
She didn't realize anyone was home until she sat down on the couch, only to realize there was someone there. She yelped.
Flynn scrambled upward blinking rapidly, the only sign he had been asleep.
"Shit," she breathed, a hand on her chest as she stood up again. "I'm so sorry."
He shook his head. "No, no your good."
(Y/N) sat down on the armrest of the couch and rolled her shoulders back, sighing. Him being home was really impeding on her planned mental breakdown.
"You good?" He asked as he shuffled over and patted the empty cushion next to him. She took it.
After a moment of deliberation, she shrugged. "Eh, I'll be fine. Just a bad day."
Seemingly without thinking, he dropped a hand onto her thigh and began gently rubbing it with his thumb, just as he often did before. It felt different now.
Her breath hitched in her throat.
Realizing what he had done, Flynn snatched his hand back hastily. "Sorry, sorry."
"It's fine," she breathed out, trying to ignore the fact that her heart was beating unevenly now. Since when did Flynn make her nervous?
A faint smile twitched at his mouth as he seemed to realize this too, which made her grumble under her breath. Cocky bastard.
(Y/N) leaned back into the couch cushions and dropped her head back, sighing. "Fuck, is it too early to go to bed?"
"It's not even 6, sweetheart," he murmured.
Her heart stuttered again as he draped an arm over the back of the couch behind her. From what she could tell, he was trying not to grin.
"Oh shut up," she muttered, though her cheeks had flushed pink.
âDidnât say a word.â
âYou were thinking too loud then.â
âThe fuck do you mean Iâm thinking to loud?â
âI mean shut up.â
Flynn just snorted to himself and allowed his arm to fall slightly so it was resting on her shoulders. It took a great effort to force herself to relax. Whatever this was, it was very new to her. She had hooked up with strangers at parties and had dated on and off throughout her life as a free woman. Somehow, this was more intimate.
But she didnât push him away.
She allowed his arm to stay there, though she wouldâve considered snapping it if she were in a different mood. But she was tired, and maybe having some comfort wouldn't be so bad.
(Y/N) leaned her head over onto his shoulder and fought the urge to snicker as he froze completely. She allowed herself to inhale the scent of him, of earth and trees and a forest far away from Lunathion. It was quite soothing, to be honest.
After a moment Flynn began rubbing her shoulder with the pad of his thumb, and she fought a shiver. Her reaction to him made her nervous.
He grabbed the TV remote off the armrest next to him and switched it on, beginning to flip through the channels in an attempt to find something to watch. She couldn't help but stare at him as he did.
There was something steady about him, despite the chaos he lived in. Something sturdy and calm and . . . easy. Not easy in the sense that he was a whore, though he was. Easy in the sense that he was simple. Easy to love.
The thought clanged through her abruptly.
"Are you messing with me?" She asked him quietly without moving her head.
A pause.
"No," he murmured back, his thumb stilling on the curve of her shoulder as he turned to look at her. "And I hate that I made you think that I am."
She didn't know what to say to that.
But tears pricked at her eyes and though she tried to blink them away, they began to fall. Sobs had built up in her chest but for Flynn's sake, she held them back.
This was a breakdown that had been building since the night she found out about his feelings, and her horrible day at work had been the icing on the cake. She was beyond overwhelmed, and she had been for weeks. And she didn't really have anyone to talk to about it.
The people she wanted to go to were all involved and how was that fair to them?
She held her breath in an attempt to keep them from passing too quickly and she clenched her hands into fists at her sides as she felt them begin to tremble.
"(Y/N)?" Flynn asked softly.
After exhaling slowly, she shook her head and took in a slow breath. That was all she could do. Talking meant breathing, and breathing meant hyperventilating. She didn't want anyone to see her like that.
"What's going on?"
She shook her head again and closed her eyes, then brought her knees up to her chest and curled around her arms around herself. As if she could physically hold herself together. She wouldn't make it to her room in time. No, if she moved, she was going to burst into tears. She pressed her eyes into her knees, trying to focus on the pressure rather than the fact that her whole body felt like it was about to fall into pieces.
The hand she had forgotten was on her shoulder gently brushed hair away from her face, pulling it back into a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck. He must've found a hair tie on the coffee table.
Gently, he tugged her into his side and she toppled into him, not willing to let herself go. She let out the breath she had been holding and took in another one. "I need â I need help."
It was difficult for her to voice, and even more difficult to acknowledge just how vulnerable she was being in that moment.
"What can I do?"
"Squeeze me."
"What?"
"Hold onto me. Tightly." When he didn't move, she shakily let her legs straighten and moved to stand up. "Never mind, I'm sorry, I'm so sorryâ"
Then he had pulled her into his lap. Despite her reservations (Y/N) curled herself up again, shuddering at the feeling of his arms wrapping around her completely. Flynn's grip on her tightened and he began rocking slightly side to side. "I've got you, baby, I've got you. But you need to breathe for me."
"Can't," she choked out, "it'll go too fast and then I can't â I can't focus, I don't want to breathe fast I can'tâ"
"Can you breathe with me?" When she didn't respond, he tightened his grip on her even further. "(Y/N)?"
"I can't try," she whispered.
"Okay, so you're going to breathe in when I do, alright?"
She nodded.
"Okay sweetheart, in."
His chest expanded against her, increasing the pressure of his grip. (Y/N) tried to breathe with him, she did, but it came in shuddered and uneven. And then she exhaled before he did, and inhaled, and exhaled, and inhaledâ
Then she was hyperventilating.
Her chest tightened and she trembled viciously in his grasp.
Flynn's arm shifted and gently began scratching her scalp with his fingertips. His movements were slow and unhurried, almost lazy in pace.
She tried her best to focus on that, on the feeling of his nails gently scratching at the top of her head.
Slowly but surely, and she wasn't sure how long it took, her breathing fell into pattern with his, timed with the swoops and grazes of his fingers until she was almost breathing normally.
Even as her muscles loosened, Flynn continued with his movements and out of sheer exhaustion, she slouched and relaxed against him. Focused solely on the feeling against her scalp, (Y/N) eventually drifted off into oblivion.
When her eyes opened it was dark out, the only source of light in the living room being the TV playing a movie she didn't recognize. It flickered across her face as she blinked, trying to get her eyes to adjust.
As she shifted in her seat, it took her a moment to figure out why she couldn't really move. Flynn still had his arms around her and they were now slouched into the corner of the couch with her body half in his lap, half stretched out across the cushions.
What time was it, anyway?
She moved again, slowly, stretching out her legs before shifting in his grip to roll away from his chest and onto the thin stretch of cushion beside him.
"You awake?" He rasped.
(Y/N) turned her head to look at him. âYeah,â she whispered.
Flynn was smiling faintly down at her, and his head tilted slightly as he reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Despite herself, she flushed a warm pink, just thankful he couldnât see it in the darkness. Then again, she wouldnât be surprised if he could feel the heat emanating from her cheeks.
As gently as she had ever seen Flynn be, he tugged her against his chest. Her forehead bumped against his chest bone. âI was a little worried there,â he admitted quietly. âThought you blacked out on me.â
(Y/N) shook her head against him. âNah, I just crashed.â She sighed. âIt takes a lot out of me.â
âI donât doubt it,â he hummed and began slowly rubbing her back. Then he paused. âI see what you meant about hyperventilating though. That looked exhausting. Do youââ he seemed to consider his wording. âDo you feel like that often?â
She shrugged once. "Not so much anymore. When the King disowned me--" she refused to call him her father "--it happened all the time but I've gotten past there, there isn't much that gets me to the point of hyperventilating anymore. I don't give a enough of a shit."
Flynn snorted, though a frown was etched onto his face. "I'm sorry this all got so overwhelming for you, I . . . I regret the way this happened more than I'll ever be able to explain to you."
"It wasn't ideal," she admitted quietly, "but I don't regret finding out."
The frown shifted into something hopeful. "You don't?"
"No."
His hand smoothed upward from her back, tangling in her hair as she shifted herself upward on the couch. The moment she was even slightly within reach, he kissed the top of her head.
Even in the dark, she knew she had gone bright red.
With her face in his chest, (Y/N) felt the faint rumblings of his laugh against her cheek.
"Shut up," she grumbled, swatting at him. "I'm not used to â to this."
"To what?"
". . . touchy-feely stuff."
As the lighting on the TV changed, she could see surprise light up his face. "What, your boyfriends weren't affectionate?"
"When they wanted sex, yeah," she snorted. "Besides, the longest boyfriend I've ever had only lasted for a month."
She watched his brows lift in surprise. "Only a month?"
"Yup. Apparently I made most of them feel unmanly."
Flynn just snorted. "That's bullshit. Clearly they just weren't comfortable in their masculinity.""
"Oh definitely not," (Y/N) grinned. "The last guy I dated â Aeron â he wouldn't let Bryce paint his nails blue. That was it for me. Then he got pissed, obviously, and told me I was a bad partner and a bad lay anyway and that was that." When he didn't answer, she turned to look at him and found him frowning. "What?"
"You deserve so much better than that," he said as if it were the most truthful thing in the world.
It took her a minute to decide how truthful she wanted to be. "I'm not sure about that," she admitted finally. "I wasn't a good daughter and I'm a pretty shit sister. And just a horrible person depending on who you ask."
Then he was holding her face in both hands, forcing her to look up at him. "You are not a bad person," Flynn told her firmly, his hands slightly squishing her cheeks. "You are an amazing, kind, and considerate woman. It isn't your fault that your dad is a piece of shit, or that Ruhn is an absolute moron. None of that was in your control."
Her heart began to race. "Flynn . . . " she whispered, her head tilting slightly as she began to shake it.
But he kept going.
"I'm telling you that you deserve better, (Y/N), and you do. You deserve to have someone who can appreciate all of you, not just your body or the fact that you used to be fae royalty. You should be with someone who can make you feel good, yeah, but also someone who can make you laugh so hard you snort, and will sit with you when you have a bad day. Someone who will see you as the most important person in their world." He inhaled a shaky breath, which she wasn't sure she had ever heard come from him. "If you'll let me, (Y/N), I'd like to be that person."
He was absently smoothing a thumb over her cheek again, his brown eyes boring into hers.
Every part of herself was reacting to him. The hair on her arms stood on end, her toes had curled slightly, a light tingling spread through her body, and in that moment (Y/N) wondered if she had always been his. Looking at him now, she wasn't sure she wanted to be anyone else's.
As his gaze scanned over her face, she whispered, "are you going to kiss me?"
His breath hitched and for a moment, he only opened and closed his mouth without saying a word. Finally, he asked, "do you want me to?"
(Y/N) rolled her lips inward. "Yes."
So he did.
Surprisingly, his mouth was gentle against her. He pressed his lips to hers slowly, still holding her face in his hands, his thumb moving continuously on her cheek.
A small noise slipped from her mouth as he tugged her closer until her body was flush against his.
Hesitantly, she moved her hands out to hold his arms. Flynn was strong. She had known this for a long time; he had carried many shopping bags for her. But feeling the muscle â the bulk of his arms, the rigidness of his abdomen â was somehow different.
When he finally pulled away from her, she was out of breath. (Y/N) expected him to say something sarcastic or funny, but he just pressed his forehead against hers and kept it there.
For quite a while, the only sound in the living room was the faint volume from the TV. Finally, he said, "I never thought I would get to do that."
"Well," she murmured, "if you play your cards right, you'll probably get to do it again."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
His mouth split into a wide grin and without hesitation he was peppering kisses all over her face.
(Y/N) began laughing and when she tried to pull away, his grip on her only tightened and he pulled her impossibly closer. When he was finished, she wiggled down the couch a bit so her head was in line with his chest again, his hands now tangled in her hair.
It took her a moment to work up the nerve, but she pressed a short kiss to his chest bone. His grip on her hair tightened for a moment before going slack.
Then his nails were gently scratching her scalp again, and as she once more drifted off to sleep, (Y/N) couldn't help but think, I could get used to this.
AUTHORS NOTE: real short but a sweet one, this is just pure fluff. I don't think it has any spoilers for anything??? Just talk of mates and stuff, There is descriptors tho
LENGTH: 1153 words
Azriel loved his mate.
He was beyond grateful to the Mother and to the Cauldron for bringing her into his life. His little ray of sunshine in the Night Court. She was an Illyrian, her wings damaged but not clipped. They had all been working with Madja for the last thirty some-odd years to strengthen them so they were functional.
(Y/N) was a whirlwind that, at first, he hadn't thought he was capable of keeping up with. Part of him dreaded the day she had the use of her wings. A small part of it was because she would no longer need him to carry her places, and he loved that. The main reason was because she reminded him of someone they were both good friends with. Now he knew he didn't have to keep up with her because that good friend could.
In the thirty years they had been mated, she had grown close with Cassian the way a sister was close with their brother, and it scared him. They were both incredibly similar; stubborn and rough around the edges with a heart of gold.
Seeing them together brough him both joy and severe anxiety. Whenever they were left unsupervised, there was almost always an injury. Whether it be skinned knees or broken limbs, someone was almost always bound to get hurt. As much as he loved his brother, he would always prefer it was Cassian.
It usually was.
This time was no different.
Mor and Feyre had come into the kitchen as he was in the connecting lounge reading a book, laughing their asses off. All he had heard was Cassian and (Y/N) and the phrase couples yoga in the same sentence and he had been on his feet in an instant.
Last he heard, (Y/N) was spending the day book shopping with Nesta so he had been hopeful the afternoon would be peaceful. Apparently, he had been wrong.
"They're fine," Mor had chuckled, patting him lightly on the shoulder.
Azriel just sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Where are they?"
They brought him to the outdoor training floor and though he tried his damnedest not to, Azriel snorted. Violently.
Both (Y/N) and Cassian were sitting in the sparring ring, their feet up in the air pressed together as they tried â and failed miserably â to reach forward around their legs and grab each others hands.
"You have to bend your knees a little," (Y/N) was telling him, her brows drawn together and tongue poking out of her mouth in concentration.
His mate. His beautiful, incredible, wonderful mate.
She wore simple clothes â fitted black pants and a green bralette top â and had yanked her golden hair back into a messy ponytail. Her cheeks were flushed a soft pink with effort.
A small smile tilted his lips as he folded his arms over his chest. She was ridiculous, hilarious, and utterly his.
(Y/N) had been raised in an Illyrian woman in a small mountain city by a single mother who had since passed away. She was bold and independent, had learned how to be at a young age, and was willing to try anything.
That was why her and Cassian got along so well.
Both had very few hard noâs and would do just about anything. There was a time where (Y/N) had attempted gliding from the top of a cliff high in the Illyrian mountains in an attempt to test her wings. They hadnât been strong enough support her and it had ended in a broken leg, cracked and bruised ribs, and a mild concussion.
She had been ready to try again the next day.
Azriel remembered having to practically tie her to the bed during the weeks it took her to heal, bringing her food and helping her bathe. Reading to her at night as she finally drifted off were some of his fondest memories.
When he glanced at Cassian he found his brother shaking his head. âNo, thatâs not how it was in Nesâ book, your legs have to be straight.â
âWell my legs are, like, half the length of yours, asshole, so bend them.â
Movement at the edge of the sparring ring caught his attention and the sight of Nesta sliding off the cable barrier eased some of his nerves. They were at least supervised in their idiocy.
She moved lithely toward him, hands tucked in the front pockets of her training pants. âTheyâve been at it for an hour and a half now.â
âAny injuries?â He asked quietly. Bring high fae, she heard him loud and clear.
âTen minutes ago,â Nesta nodded. Immediately, Azriel was scanning over his mates figure in an attempt to find it. Then she continued; â(Y/N) kicked Cas in the face trying to get her leg up.â
He snorted.
That sounded about right.
For a lethal warrior and second in command to the Night Courtâs armies, (Y/N) was one of the least coordinated people off the battle field he had ever met. On the field was a completely different story.
After taking a closer look he noticed the drying blood crusting below Cassianâs nose. Azrielâs smile only grew.
âI catch reach your damn hand if you donât bend your leg,â (Y/N) snapped, flailing her right hand to annunciate her point. âSo bend your fuckinâ leg.â
âIf I bend my leg itâs gonna be pretty much up my nose, asshole,â Cassian grumbled. But he then bent his leg, hissing as it hit his nose just as he had predicted. It was likely tender, since heâd been kicked in the face. âSee?â
âNot my problem.â
âItâs about to be your problem.â
âYou wanna try me? Right here right now?â
âBehave, you two,â Nesta called, her gaze hardening slightly. âIf you canât play nice weâre done here.â
Since they were both competitive, they grumbled thoroughly but did as she said and began working through the problem in a slightly more functional way.
They had always been like this, for over two hundred years now, since (Y/N) had taken on the role of Cassian's second in command. Always getting into trouble, always partaking in something that never failed to raise his heartrate.
âTheyâre ridiculous,â Azriel chuckled.
Nesta tilted her head as she watched her mate and his best friend. âDo you ever think theyâre soulmates?â She asked. Azriel turned to her curiously. âI know theyâre ours, but at the same time itâs almost like theyâre two halves of a whole.â
Azriel snorted. âTwo halves of a whole idiot.â Then he amended; âI honestly think they were siblings in another life. Maybe twins.â
âIâm glad they have each other,â Nesta hummed quietly, a rare and small, but genuine smile tugging at her lips.
And no matter how much anxiety their friendship brought him, no matter how many injuries he patched up, he was glad they had each other, too.
AUTHORS NOTE: happy holidays darlings!!!
this has some spoilers from the end of ACOTAR, but I don't think there's too many warnings here, there's a little bit of angst but it's pretty much just fluff. There is descriptors in this one, just general Winter Court physical appearance because that's how I imagined (Y/N) as I wrote this so I hope that's okay :)
LENGTH: 2496 words
Forty nine years he had been under that rock.
For close to five decades, Kallias had lived in the shadows of Prythian's once sacred mountain. He had survived the horrors of Amarantha's mock court, the darkness that had crept into his very soul.
Much had changed in his home in those forty nine years. His Court had been saved by one of his childhood friends, Viviane, who had stepped in and created a safe haven out of a small city in the outskirts of the Winter Court, welcoming anyone who could make it to their borders. The third part of their trio, (Y/N), had worked on creating a secret trading route to ensure the city still received supplies in amounts that wouldn't draw the attention of those seeking to hurt them. The two had pooled what magic they had and created wards and protective spells to keep the city hidden.
They had saved his Court, his two friends. He would never be able to truly thank them for it. Many had made it into their little city, he found out after Amarantha's death. Roughly a hundred thousand citizens of the Winter Court had taken refuge in the one place left free of her reach. They had kept things together when he couldn't.
Viviane, with her never ending strength and perseverance. (Y/N) -- gods, (Y/N) and her determination, that loving manor of refusing to back down from any challenger.
Kallias often relived those last moments with her while under the mountain.
It had been during the festival they held during the winter solstice. Snow was falling in large, intricate flakes, clinging to her white hair as the cold reddened her cheeks. They had been out in the market held at the palace, welcoming fae from everywhere to partake in their festivities.
She had smiled up at him, that blinding grin on her face warming every part of him in a way he had hidden for centuries. Gods, he loved her. He had given her flowers that night; winter crocus, the fragrance she always wore. His favourite scent.
Though he couldn't be sure, he could've sworn her cheeks had grown darker than they already were at the gesture. It had warmed him, filled him with a sense of male pride, to know that he was the one to cause it.
Viviane had been urging him for centuries to confess what he felt for her, and he regretted that it had taken a tragedy for him to do so.
The night of Amaranthaâs dinner party, he had only just been able to warn her and Viviane â to tell (Y/N) he loved her beyond reason, as he had since they were children â before losing the majority of his magic and being dragged under that gods-forsaken mountain.
He hadn't seen them since then.
But Feyre Cursebreaker, an average human girl who loved the High Lord of the Spring Court, had freed them from Amarantha's grasp and brought on the tyrants death. They were all free. He was free.
Kallias had been itching to find his friends the moment he returned to the Winter Court as High Lord three days ago, but they had still been in their hidden city then. It had taken them the last few days to tie up loose ends and leave the city with a new Lord, one who promised to care for it and run it the way they had for for the last forty nine years.
But today, they would come back.
Despite himself, Kallias was nervous. For the last five decades the memories of (Y/N) had kept him from shattering. Though a lot of him had change under the mountain, the one thing Amarantha hadn't touched were his memories. She hadn't been able to see the one thing that brought him any kind of joy.
She hadn't focused on him much, he had tried not to give her reason to. The one time he had, those younglings . . .
He shook away the thought and stared at the reflective ice mirror in his chambers. Not now. Not when the one pure thing in this world was coming back to him.
The three of them had been corresponding with letters, deciding to meet at the solstice market; the very one he had last seen her at. It was the first time the market was open since Amarantha's rise to power.
Kallias had been in his chambers for near three hours now, simply getting lost in his mind while deciding what to wear. Not only was this his first time seeing (Y/N), it was also his first public appearance as High Lord since coming back from under the mountain. He had no clue how his people would react to him after everything that had happened. How she would react.
For a long time, Kallias had wondered if she loved him back. Now, he wasn't sure if he deserved it.
Though he had been out of options, had lost nearly everything that gave him power and found the remainder of it leashed, he had still allowed it to happen. Again, he thought of the twenty four children that had been lost.
As their High Lord, he had been responsible for them. He still was. Always would be. Their loss would stay with him forever, would follow him until he faded into the next life.
He stared at himself in the reflective ice for a long while, trying to see if there was anything left of him to love.
It was a light knock at his door that brought him back to the present.
"My Lord," a faint voice said from the other side. He recognized the woman's voice; Johan. The woman who had helped his mother raise him. "You asked me to find you when Lady Viviane and Lady (Y/N) arrived, and I've just gotten word they're waiting for you in the market."
"Thank you."
His voice came out in a rasp, both from disuse and nerves.
Would they forgive him for his failures under the mountain? For what he had done and failed to do?
There was no time to ponder it because they were here, and they were waiting for him. They had waited long enough.
His heart thundered nervously in his chest the closer he grew to the palaceâs main doors. The closer he got to (Y/N). Because of Amarantha, he had never learned if she had actually gotten the mental confession he had sent to her forty nine years ago.
Part of him wondered if he had been changed so thoroughly he might not feel the same as he did back then. Might not feel anything like he did back then.
He supposed, as he pushed open the palace doors, that he was about to find out.
Snow crunched beneath his boots and Kallias couldnât help but smile at the sound. The feeling of it. As he made the short walk to the public market, he took in his surroundings. White flakes fell from above him and for a moment he was drawn back to to the memory of dust falling from cavern ceilings, the scent of wet, rotting earthâ
A small figure slammed into his abdomen, knocking the breath right out of him. Arms wrapped around his middle and as he looked down, a grin curved his mouth.
âHi, Viv,â he hummed, his hands settling on her back.
Viviane squeezed him tightly, and the compression helped ease some of his anxiety. Kallias closed his eyes and relished the feeling until she pulled away. "We've missed you," Viviane murmured, grinning up at him in that knowing way of hers.
Something in him lurched.
They had missed him.
They.
So (Y/N) didn't hate him.
Without meaning to, he looked for her.
Towering fir's ornately covered with coloured baubles and tinsel framed the market road, the decor matching the theme of each stall in front off them. Twinkling lights were wrapped around the branches, casting a glow down on those strolling up and down the road.
And standing a few feet down the road . . .
"(Y/N)," he breathed, his arms going slack at his sides.
She was just as ethereal as she was forty nine years ago.
With her white-blonde hair pulled back into a braid behind her, muffs over her ears and those bright blue eyes full of nervous hope he knew he was still hers.
He wasnât sure why he had ever doubted it, he shouldâve known they even after all this time, he would still belong to her. Whether she wanted it or not.
She wore a simple cool blue dress with intricate white and silver detailing that swept along the ground with each step she took toward him until she was in his arms. Kallias closed his eyes and allowed himself to, for just this one moment, let go of the world around him and feel this.
The warmth of his arms around her, practically leaning against him. Hair tickling his chin. Her breath puffing against his chest. The shuddering of her body.
His eyes snapped open.
He shouldâve noticed earlier that she was crying, that her trembling wasn't from the cold.
"Oh, love," he murmured. Kallias set a palm on her back and gently moved it up and down, his other arm hooking around he waist to keep her upright. "It's okay."
She collapsed slightly against him at those words. "It's not," she choked out against his chest. "I almost lost you, Kallias, and I didn't â I didn't even get to tell youâ" She was sobbing again.
But his heart had begun to beat faster.
I didn't get to tell youâ
What hadn't she told him?
(Y/N) wasn't someone who often kept secrets, she was always someone who spoke her mind, who would say what needed to be said and do what needed to be done even if it wasn't pleasant.
What could it possibly have been?
He looked up at Viviane with furrowed brows and found her watching them with that sharp, all-knowing curve to her smile.
Then she mimed getting a drink and took off at a leisurely stroll down the road.
Kallias looked back down at the woman in his arms, his heart pounding in his chest. He hated seeing her cry. Hated it more than just about anything in the world.
So he gently tugged her away from him and shifted so he was holding her face, cupping her jaw. "I'm okay," he told her softly, his eyes scanning over her face in an attempt to memorize it. To take in each of the details that had disappeared from his mind in the last forty nine years. "She's gone, and I'm here. I'm home now."
And he was was home, here in this moment.
When he was by himself it was hard to tell. There were nights he woke up where he couldn't discern the darkness of his room from the darkness of under the mountain. The slippery ice on the walls from the slick walls of his cavern room. Nights where he didn't know where he was, and unleashed a wave of magic capable of collapsing the palace if it hadn't been for the wards his father had placed to prevent such things from happening.
But here, with (Y/N) safe and alive and real in his arms, he was home.
As he stared into the ice blue eyes that gazed back at him as if he were everything they had ever searched for. His heart clenched in his chest.
"I missed you," she whispered to him, a trembling hand reaching up to cup his cheek. "Every day, each morning, I prayed to the mother, to the cauldron, to anyone who would listen, that you would come home safe to me."
To me.
That you would come home safe to me.
Hope like he hadn't felt in a very long time flooded through him as he tried to discern what it was, exactly, that she was saying.
His thumb stroked her cheek. "I missed you more than I missed the sun," he breathed in return.
It was true.
In the Winter Court where the days were short and the nights were long, it wasn't often the sun was out for more than a few hours. He could live without it. He hadn't been allowed to go to the surface once during Amarantha's reign, he had only lived by candle light, fae light created by magic, and darkness.
It wasn't exactly difficult for him. He lived by fae light much of the time in his palace as the sun was gone before supper more often than not.
But never in his life did he want to live without his friends again. Without his (Y/N).
Then, before he could take in another breath, he kissed her.
Her lips were firm against his, moving frantically as if attempting to commit the feel of them to memory. As if she weren't sure she would be allowed to do this again. One hand was settled flat against his chest, the other still on his face.
Kallias was kissing her back before he could fully comprehend it was happening. His palms squished her cheeks slightly and while it wasnât intentional, the result made him smile as he peaked an eye open.
She was utterly adorable.
As he pulled away from her and found her pouting slightly, Kallias pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and tugged her into his side. âWhat?â He chuckled.
Her nose wrinkled. âI wasnât done.â
A warmth spread through him, pure and gentle as the light from the stars shining above them. Perfect. This was utterly perfect.
"Well finally."
They both turned in the direction of Viviane's voice and found her walking toward them carrying three disposable cups of hot chocolate. A small red and white striped cane stuck out of each steaming drink.
Candy canes.
Gods, he hadn't realized he missed those.
Absently, he wondered if there would be syrup popsicles somewhere in the market. He had been craving them for the last decade.
"Oh, hush," (Y/N) muttered while wiping her eyes, drawing him back to the present.
She went to take a step back but without really meaning to, Kallias tightened his grip on her waist. He wasn't ready to let go of her yet. He wasnât sure he ever would be.
(Y/N) looked up at him, and he offered her a tentative smile. In return, she clasped her hand in his.
âThis is going to be a long century,â Viviane muttered, yelping when (Y/N) landed a smack to her arm.
Though she was teasing, the sentiment wasnât lost on him. Centuries. There were centuries to come, with his friends at his side.
Kallias glanced down at his hand that held onto (Y/N)âs, and he couldnât help but pray to the mother that the left century would be spent just like this.
AUTHORS NOTE: I always end up feeling like my writing is awful you guys, I'm so sorry
Danaan!reader
hopefully this one is acceptable??? I really don't know, at this point I'm just struggle bussing because I feel like this sucks. also I feel like there's A LOT of back story for this one, idk if that's good or not.
Also if anyone wants a part two let me know :)
Part Two: Problematic
LENGTH: 4781
The party had been raging on for hours, an endless stream of blaring music and stumbling people trying their best to dance. She hadnât been sure of their schedules before but clearly they didnât work in the morning.
Which was irritating, because she did.
(Y/N) had been trying to sleep over an hour now, but even with her room being soundproof â she had spent many nights like this all but deafened by her brothers music choice â she could feel the vibrations through the floor. Thanks to her full fae hearing, she was even able to hear some of the lyrics and melody.
She loved Ruhn dearly, but there were nights she couldâve strangled him. They had been all but inseparable as kids, born to the same mother less than 5 years apart. Most people thought they were twins they looked so similar. The same inky hair, matching violet-blue eyes, similar builds and facial features. The both of them even bore matching scars left behind by her fatherâs rage, covered up by tattoos the first chance they got.
The only thing that got between them was their father. The Autumn King was a traditional old bastard who wanted his kids to be wholly subservient to him and his wishes. She hated him for it. While Ruhn had some use to him, being a firstborn male and heir to the Valbaran fae, she was considered essentially useless. Her King had never wanted a daughter, and he had never been a father to her because of it.
Only a tyrant insistent on making her pay for the crime of being born. She knew that in his eyes, there would never be payment enough. Her not having a drop of magic in her didnât help matters. Because of this, and because she knew he would hurt her no matter what she did, she knew she was essentially free to do what she wanted.
But at the young age of 20, after hiding in Ruhnâs bedroom as he gently bandaged the most recent of her burns, she had decided to do something she knew would hurt him back. Something she knew he could never forgive her for. Something that would truly impact him. So, she had taken a male into her bed.
Her father had gone into such a rage when he found out that he had nearly torched the throne room. When she walked out of the hall minutes later, she was disowned. She was free.
That was when Ruhn had moved out as well. He and two of his friends, Tristan Flynn and Declan Emmett, had found themselves a house to party in and do whatever else they did â which was a lot of things â without being micromanaged by their families. They had given her the biggest room in the basement, and she had lived there for the last 50 years.
50 years of falling asleep and waking up in the same bed alone. After spending that night in bed with the male that had won her her freedom, she hadnât had many partners; the first time had been less than stellar and the handful of times after that werenât much better.
But she wasnât alone, not really.
The number of times she had woken up to Declan sprawled out over the arm chair in the corner of her room, or Ruhn blacked out on the floor of her closet, or even Flynn, draped over the foot of her bed like it was his own. They were her family now.
They were the people who loved her. They were all she needed.
Though she loved her boys, and she truly did, she had always wished she had more of a female presence in her life. Her own mother had been loving, but entirely submissive to her father. (Y/N) hadn't spoken to her since she was disowned. She did love her mother, but there was no part of her that wanted to reach out if it meant her father would find out. And he would.
When Bryce Quinlan had come into her life, she had been beyond happy. Finally having another girl in her life, and a little sister at that. Though their father was a bastard, (Y/N) knew that she and Ruhn would love Bryce enough to hopefully make up for it.
They took her out for lunches, for ice cream, to the beach; anywhere she wanted to go, really. She was young when they first met her, barely 13 years old. There was a rough 50 years between (Y/N) and Ruhn, and Bryce. But she was their baby.
For three years, they would take her on weekend adventures, visit her at her family home, even bring her into the city for a few days of shopping and playing during the summer. (Y/N) would have her over for sleepovers where she taught Bryce how to use a hair straightener and curler, how to paint nails quickly but efficiently, and even how to make basic movie snacks.
During that time she had been told by her brother that he had never seen her look happier than she was then. She had to agree with him, she wasn't sure she ever had been happier.
Things were perfect for three blissful years.
All until she Bryce and Ruhn got into a fight.
(Y/N) wasn't there that day, so she had no idea what was said between them -- neither of them would tell her. All she knew was that things had been said, and now Bryce barely spoke to her. She had cut Ruhn off completely and showed no signs of ever letting them back into their lives.
Part of (Y/N) hated Ruhn for it, hated him for saying whatever it was that had hurt their 16 year old sister so deeply that she refused all contact with people she had previously loved, but she didn't have to tell him that. She knew Ruhn hated himself for it, too.
But Bryce was beyond stubborn, and trying to talk to her would only have her digging her heels in further. So they let her be. They left her to decide things on her own, to come to her own decision on what to do.
That had been nearly three years ago.
Now, things were strained between her and Ruhn.
She would always have his back no matter what, but she couldn't deny that she was still upset with him, even after all the time that had passed. Dec and Flynn had picked up on the tension the moment it had formed, and had been not-so-subtly encourage them to talk ever since.
But they knew Bryce had gotten some of her stubbornness from the Autumn King because (Y/N) and Ruhn had it to, so that conversation had yet to happen.
It seemed that Flynn had gotten the short straw and was stuck with her. He had always been exceptionally friendly toward her, flirty even, but she knew not to take it personally. Flynn would flirt with anything that walked, and she happened to have two legs.
Once upon a time she had considered the possibility that it could mean something, but she had come to the conclusion, quite quickly she might add, that it didn't. And even if it did, she wasn't interested on creating even more tension in the house just for the sake of a good fuck.
And she knew Flynn was a good fuck purely based on the moans she heard coming from his room practically every other night. If that was anything to base off of, he was exceptional.
Not that she cared.
She didn't care about the dirty looks she got from women trying to get with Flynn either. They were purely aimed her way because she and him lived in the same house, and many believed they would be the one to change his ways and that she was the only thing in their way. (Y/N) had no intention of getting in anyone's way.
Still, despite all the women pulling him away in an attempt to get his attention, Flynn always made sure he was at her side on and off through out the night. The one thing he ensured they kept religiously, something that had been going on for decades now, was beer pong. Whenever she joined in on the parties, Flynn hauled her over to the pong table and watched her decimate the competition in both partners and solo.
As someone who preferred a bow and arrow as her weapon of choice, her aim was impeccable. Flynn always used that to his advantage, though she suspected it was his way of ensuring she didn't isolate in her room. She had a tendency to do that when she was upset, and had been doing it a lot since she lost contact with Bryce. It was his way of making sure she was okay.
Though she appreciated the thought, she sometimes wished he would let her stay in her room until she had to leave for work. The solitude was comforting, and because of Flynn's efforts she didn't get it often.
Tonight was no different.
He had tried to drag her out of her room when the music started, but she had been adamant. No partying on work nights. He respected that, and so far in the last four hours had come down at least five times to check in on her. He truly was a mother hen.
With a long sigh, knowing she wouldn't get any sleep regardless of how hard she tried, (Y/N) hauled herself out of bed and quickly got dressed into a casual pair of jeans and a cute crop top. She slid on a pair of boots and awkwardly combed her curtain of straight hair, gave up on making it look nice, and went upstairs. She locked her bedroom door behind her so she wouldn't find anyone hooking up on her bed later.
The moment she reached the crest of the stairs the music became deafening and she winced. All she could smell was sweat, alcohol and the occasional waft of mirthroot coming from the living room. She was willing to bet that it was her brother.
(Y/N) rolled her eyes and followed the smell, internally satisfied at the fact that she was right. Ruhn lounged on the couch with a gorgeous canine shifter draped across his lap, her short skirt riding up to show off half her ass. There was a glazed look about his eyes that was normal; he was probably on his third blunt by now. âDipshit,â she muttered as she sat in the armchair across from him.
He nodded to her, his blunt perched on two fingers with a third holding it in place. âAsshole.â
She glanced around at the chaos surrounding her. âYou gonna be done soon?â
âNope.â
Of course not.
âFair enough.â
â(Y/N)!â
At the sound of her name she turned her head. Flynn was peeling himself away from a pretty vampire, who was giving her one of the dirtiest looks (Y/N) had ever been on the receiving end of. Whatever.
"What's up, Flynn," she sighed tiredly, looking at him briefly before glancing away from him to scan over the rest of the room.
He nudged her over so she was squished against the armrest and he could slide into the empty space. There wasn't much of it, so she ended up angled sideways with her legs crossed over his lap.
Clearly happy with himself, Flynn dropped his arms to rest on top of her legs as he leaned back into the cushions. "Nothin' much, just surprised to see you out here."
She shrugged. "Hard to sleep with all this."
At that he paused, then, "shit, you work in the morning don't you."
(Y/N) couldn't help but snort, sparing a glance at Ruhn who was now frowning. "Yup," she muttered, raking a hand through her hair to move it from her face.
He was cringing and shaking his head. "Sorry, we totally forgot."
Though he wouldn't look at her, wouldn't sat anything, the stubborn bastard, Ruhn was nodding.
"Whatever," she muttered and rubbed her eyes.
Gently, as if she were made of the finest silks, Flynn swiped his thumb back and forth over her thigh. "We'll make it up to you," he murmured, his head tilting as he smiled that blinding smile at her. "I promise."
That right there was exactly how he got so many girls interested in him. That got damn smile. Her stomach lurched slightly at the sight of it, but she let it happen and let it go. There was no point in finding Flynn pretty. He gained and lost interest in people within a matter of hours.
(Y/N) knew he thought she was attractive.
He had let it slip during a very drunk game of truth or dare, during which he had admitted to finding Ruhn hot, but not as hot as (Y/N). It had been an odd feeling that settled over her, but she had dismissed it as quickly as it appeared.
Again, there was no point in acknowledging it. It would give her a great night, and then create an awkward tension that would stick around for the rest of her life. No matter how much fun she would have with Flynn that night, it wouldn't be worth it in the long run.
Not when she already had so few people who cared about her already.
So (Y/N) just shook her head. "No, it's fine. Tomorrow's just gonna suck."
"I'll make you coffee in the morning," Flynn promised her, his head still tilted slightly as he looked at her. Right into her eyes.
She couldn't help but snort. "Flynn, you won't be conscious in the morning."
"I will be," he insisted, his thumb still moving gently, incessantly. "And I'll make you coffee. I promise."
Though she rolled her eyes, she didn't say anything.
A large puff of smoke wafted in between them, causing (Y/N) to cough. "If we could stop flirting for Ruhn's sake, that would be great," Ruhn muttered irritably, his blunt held between his teeth.
"Who says I'm flirting?" Flynn scoffed, though she picked up a faint pink tinge to his cheeks.
Ruhn looked from her, to Flynn, then back to her. "Says the one that's watching you flirt. With his sister."
As Flynn snapped back with a comment she didn't bother paying attention to, (Y/N) batted his hand away and rose to her feet. He was caught up in arguing with her brother so he didn't comment as she wandered from the room. She had no interest in getting in the middle of their little spat.
The bodies around her were moving against each other smoothly in rhythm to the music blaring from the speakers. Everyone was hot and sweaty, smelling of liquor in one way or another.
Sometimes she truly did hate living in a frat house.
As she passed the main floor bathroom she picked up the sound of someone vomiting rather harshly. The door was being guarded by a twin pair of female leopard shifters, both glaring at anyone daring to come what they deemed too close. She was willing to bet it was their friend that was throwing up.
(Y/N) ducked into out onto the back patio where it was quieter, folding her arms over her chest as she sighed. She wished she didn't have to work in the morning so she could follow Ruhn's lead and have some mirthroot. It would make the night easier to stomach.
"You don't look happy."
She turned at the sound of a male's voice she didn't recognize. He was tall, definitely taller than most of the males in the house. Judging by the scent of him -- salt water and ocean breeze hidden by a strong cologne -- he was one of the merfolk. His dark skin was a beautiful shade, dark brown eyes glinting in the outdoor witchlights. Though he had his head buzzed, and she usually liked nice hair, it paired well with his jeans and a T-shirt that clung to his torso beautifully.
He was pretty.
Despite herself, her mouth curved into a smile.
It had been a long time since she found a male pretty, and even longer since she had found one intriguing enough to want to converse with.
"I'm not," (Y/N) shrugged, bighting lithgly at her bottom lip.
The male took a step forward, his shadow casting over her. Those deep brown eyes trailed over her, from her eyes, down to her shoes, then back up again to meet her gaze as a grin spread on his lips. "Can I help with that?"
If she was going to have her night fucked up, she might as well do it thoroughly. Besides; she was allowed to have fun every once in a while.
She smiled coyly at him, cocking her head. "I think you can."
And he did.
(Y/N) guided him inside and up the stairs to the upper communal bathroom where she promptly locked the bathroom door behind them.
"I'm Devon," he told her as she turned to face him.
She smiled up at him. "(Y/N)"
And then they were kissing.
Twenty minutes later she was sneaking out of the bathroom, raking a hand through her hair in an attempt to get rid of the just had sex look.
She had already adjusted her clothes, but she knew the second someone paid attention to her scent they'd be able to tell. She didn't really care about hiding it, but she still felt awkward knowing her older brother could tell she'd had a hook up. It hadn't even been a great one either, but it was on par with her experiences so far.
After stopping to check her hair in the reflection of a framed photo on the wall, she ducked into the kitchen to grab a drink. The room was fairly full, which was annoying, but she was able to get to the fridge without issue.
After grabbing a cold beer, she turned and found Ruhn and Flynn walking into the kitchen with Dec and his new boyfriend, Marc, close behind them. She hadn't met Marc yet, though she'd heard lots about him. Heads turned in their direction as they always did, but they paid them no mind. They had gotten used to it in the last sixty some-odd years.
"Hey!" Dec yelled over the music as he approached her, his hand clasped with his boyfriends. Flynn and Ruhn had gotten caught up in a conversation with a male she didn't recognize.
(Y/N) grinned as she pulled him in for a quick hug. "How goes it?"
Dec just shrugged and tugged Marc forward. "This is the boyfriend," he said, practically beaming.
She couldn't deny the fact that this was the happiest she had ever seen him. As she looked up at Marc, she made sure her thoughts were perfectly clear; hurt him and I'll fucking drag you through the sewers before I end you. Painfully.
Marc studied her for a moment, then nodded.
Good.
Then she reached out and shook his hand. "It's nice to finally meet you, Marc," she hummed.
He smiled as he looked at her. "You too, I've heard lots about you."
"Only interesting things, I hope."
"Oh they're interesting."
She just grinned.
Dec was looking between the two of them smiling happily, and in that moment she was content.
For the next little while she talked with the two of them, Dec eventually pointing out the fact that she must've had a good time. She smacked his arm but admitted that she did, and he cackled. Cackled.
Marc seemed to smile at the sound of it, and (Y/N) was glad to know that the two of them seemed to be equally invested in each other. She would protect Dec's happiness with her life the same way she would for Flynn and her brother, even if he was being a complete dick at the moment.
Then she felt a presence behind her.
"How's it going?" Flynn asked, slurring his words slightly as he bumped into her and slung one arm around her shoulder.
She had been right. It had been less than an hour and he was already drunk. That would only intensify as the night went on. (Y/N) internally rolled her eyes. Get up and make coffee my ass.
"Good," she shrugged.
Dec winked discretely at her, Marc hooking an arm around his waist.
Then Flynn sniffed the air delicately, staring into space for a moment with an emotion she couldn't name written across every inch of his face. His jaw clenched slightly, only someone who knew him well could see it, and without another word he leaned away from her, turned, and stalked out of the room.
She turned to look at them incredulously. "What crawled up his ass?" (Y/N) frowned, her head tilting as he disappeared behind a rather large, drunk fae male.
"He's a jealous moron, obviously," Ruhn snorted before taking a swig of beer. Then, as Dec smacked his arm, he muttered out a quiet shit and suddenly found his chipped black nails quite interesting.
"Of what?" She demanded, looking between the two of them with furrowed brows.
After staring at Ruhn for a moment, long and irritated, Dec wiped a hand over his face and sighed. "Of whatever male you smell like right now."
She blinked. Oh.
"What?" She asked quietly, her blinking becoming more rapid. "That's ridiculous," she then rolled her eyes. But her stomach had twisted into a knot that made her uneasy.
"Why do you say that?" Dec asked carefully, leaning into Marc's side. Marc was watching them curiously, as if this were the most entertaining moment of his day.
(Y/N) stared at him, the answer being obvious. "Flynn doesn't get jealous; he gets annoyed and then moves on to someone else."
She watched Ruhn pinch the bridge of his nose, as if this were painful. "Flynn's jealous because he likes you."
Dec smacked him again, hissing to shut the fuck up, but (Y/N) could only blink at him. "Wanting to fuck me and liking me are different things, Ruhn," she rolled her eyes and waved her hand.
He stared at her. "Yeah, I know they are."
It hit her slowly, what he was saying. "And Flynn likes me."
Ruhn took a swig of beer as he nodded. "Yup."
What. The. Fuck.
"He's been flirting with you for 18 years now, (Y/N)," Dec told her gently. "You had to have noticed that."
"I just assumed he wanted a hook up," she whispered, setting down the drink she had so been looking forward to. "I thought . . . but he doesn't like relationships."
"This is a conversation for you to have with him," Ruhn sighed, giving her a slight nudge in the direction Flynn had gone.
She glared at him. If Ruhn was fucking with her . . .
Oh, she'd kill him. She would completely and utterly destroy him.
As if he could hear what she was thinking, Dec stepped in before she could tackle her brother and demand answers. "I wouldn't lie to you about this and you know it," he said sternly, pulling out of Marc's grasp to stand in front of him.
Strands of his red hair fell over his forehead, shadowing over his amber eyes. He was looking at her intently, so intently she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was telling the truth.
(Y/N) smacked Ruhn's arm. Hard. "Why in the fuck didn't you assholes tell me?"
He cringed back from her. âOw! What the fuck?â
âYou shouldâve told me,â she hissed at him, wacking him again. This time it jarred his arm, spilling a little beer on his shirt.
â(Y/N) fuck off,â he grumbled while taking a step back. âWe didnât tell you because he threatened to rip our balls off.â
âSo?â
âWhat do you mean so? We wanted to keep our balls, (Y/N)!â
âUgh!â She muttered and stalked out of the room, her drink long forgotten.
So she would find Flynn. Find him and figure out a way to make him talk about what she had just learned because she wouldnât truly believe it unless she heard it from him.
Finding him amongst the party-goers proved to be difficult when (Y/N) was still looking for him twenty minutes later. She had asked half a dozen people if theyâd seen him, and only a handful had. Unfortunately, the directions they gave her were useless because he wasn't in any of the locations they sent her to.
She was growing irritated as the twenty minute mark came around and she still hadn't found him. It was nearing 1AM and she knew she would have to go to bed soon, so she wanted to find him before she did.
Maybe it would be a good thing to talk this out with Flynn, see what parts of it were two and what was being exaggerated. It wasn't likely that he wanted an actual relationship; in the last 75 years he hadn't shown a single sign of wanting to actually date anyone.
So she was guessing it was a simple friends with benefits situation he was after. Maybe . . . maybe that could be good.
Having that kind of relief consistently would definitely be beneficial, and she knew Flynn actually knew what he was doing in that aspect. She knew that based on what she heard from his room almost every night. She would properly enjoy herself.
But on the other hand, if things ended badly she wasn't sure she would be able to live in the house with them. She might have to find her own place to spare herself both the embarrassment and discomfort. Being honest with herself, (Y/N) wasn't sure she would be able to handle that.
When so few people cared about her, how could she lose one?
She groaned quietly to herself. She was just going in circles, around and around, coming to the same conclusion over and over and over again. Her main problem was that she couldn't say she had never thought about being with Flynn.
When she was young â maybe 15 or so â she'd had a small crush on him but had let the feelings dissipate the moment she had realized what they were. There was no room for love or affection in a family like hers. It was only a few years later that she had learned she could have more than a loveless marriage like the one her mother and father had. That there could be more for her.
She was passing a set of patio doors when she caught the faint scent of Flynn on the evening breeze and she turned toward it.
"Flynn, can we . . . "
The words died on her lips as she rounded the doorframe and took in the sight before her.
It was something she should've expected.
Flynn, with his pants pulled down around his thighs, pressing a pretty girl with tanned skin up against the vine covered wall. Her skirt was hiked up around her hips and he stood tall between her legsâ
"Oh shit," (Y/N) yelped and immediately spun on her heel. "Never mind, sorry, I'll find you later."
"(Y/N)â"
She was already inside before he had the chance to say anything else.
Something akin to embarrassment swelled within her; embarrassment and a little bit of humiliation because what else did I think would he be doing? Beneath that was the faintest amount of disappointment.
She bit down harshly on her bottom lip as she stalked down the hall past the kitchen. She felt Dec's gaze on her as she passed him but didn't bother looking. It wasn't his fault, per say, what she was feeling. But he was definitely part of it. He and Ruhn in their attempt to help had definitely contributed.
Hopes she hadnât even realized sheâd had had risen up at the mention that Flynn had some kind of feelings for her and now that they were dashed she was . . . she was definitely disappointed.
She heard a faint call of her name again from behind her, but her cheeks were flushed red with embarrassment and she didnât want anyone to see that so she quickly ducked down the stairs and back into her bedroom where she shut and locked the door behind her.
But there was one thing she was certain of; in the morning, she was going to throttle Ruhn.
AUTHORS NOTE: this one is a lil angsty because it deals with themes of cancer and sickness so if that's going to trigger anything please don't read, but I don't think it's anything too crazy. ALSO TALK OF NEEDLES.
Soon You'll Get Better by Taylor Swift
LENGTH: 4435 words
The morning light shone dimly through the open curtains showcasing a gray sky. It was fitting, that today of all days was cloudy.
Ithan had been awake for an hour now, but hadn't gotten up because he wanted to cherish the moment he was in. Wanted to commit it to memory. The coolness of the room. The soft, warm breaths puffing onto his bare chest. The small figure held carefully in his arms. She seemed so much more fragile now, since her last doctor appointment. Though that had only lasted an hour, it had changed the course of everything.
He looked down at her small figure, that frail body relaxed in a peaceful sleep. He was glad one of them could rest. Cthona knew he wouldn't be for quite a long time.
It had been a long four weeks, full of doctors visits and a shit load of different tests. Ithan had tried to be there with her for all of them, but he hadn't managed it. It was hard for him to get Sabine to give him the time off for them when there were so many.
Ithan remembered the first time they learned (Y/N) was sick.
After having a persistent headache for more than two weeks, he had finally been able to convince her to see a medwitch, expecting to find out she had migraines. Instead, they were told she had cancer; a tumor in her brain. Cancer, something that was normally easily curable now that they had access to magic and potions.
But hers was persistent. It had taken the medwitch three months and dozens of tonics and spells and potions to get (Y/N) to the point of being cancer free, but she told them that something as severe as hers would likely come back.
And it had.
They had recognized the signs the second time around â the headache, dizziness, nausea â and had taken her straight to the same medwitch they'd gotten the first time, and it was confirmed. After doing several tests over the course of the following month that left (Y/N) exhausted and empty, they set a date for the treatment, and that day was today.
Ithan had been staring at his clock, now reading 5:54AM, for over an hour now. Had watched the minutes tick by as he gently grazed his nails over her scalp, his other hand smoothing up and down her back. She hadnât been keeping food down much in these last weeks, and he could feel the bumps of her spine beneath his fingers.
Last time, she had lost nearly thirty pounds of healthy weight and was skin and bones by the time her remission had been announced. Part of him broke, knowing he would likely see her that way again. It killed him, knowing he couldnât keep her safe from this.
The first time he had met her, he knew that he would do anything for her. He would bear any burden, face any blight, if it meant keeping her healthy and happy. He would gladly take anything on himself to keep that gods-damned smile on her face. The smile that never failed to make him smile.
But this was something he couldnât do for her. He could only be there and watch her fight this battle alone and it killed him.
In the months after losing Connor he had been a shell of himself, and it was in that time that he met (Y/N). She had bumped into him on the street one day while late to work and somehow, in the timespan of five minutes, had gotten him to agree to lunch so she could apologize. After that, after discovering that she could make him laugh in spite of everything, he hadnât left her side. That was nearly three years ago now, and he couldnât imagine himself anywhere else.
(Y/N) inhaled a sharp breath that had his gaze snapping from the clock down to her. She hadnât woken yet, but he could tell by the slight change in her heart rate that she was starting to.Â
The clock read 6:07AM now, and as he continued to watch it, Ithan made a mental shopping list to pick up once they were back from her treatment. They would need ginger tea to help settle her stomach, he knew that for sure. Ginger tea and crackers, maybe some fruit that would be easy to digest. There would be no pasta for a while, because that would be too rich and would make her sick. She had eaten a lot of peanut butter and apples the last time she was sick; it was easy to digest and at least a little bit of protein.
Thought after thought ran through his mind until it was 6:45AM and the alarm was going off. (Y/N) let out a soft grumble of displeasure at the sound and shuffled upward, burying her face into the crook of his neck. Ithan couldnât help but chuckle as he reached over to snooze it. She never had been a morning person.
But the 8:15AM slot was the soonest they could get, so they took it.
âCome on,â he murmured, giving her shoulder the gentlest of shakes. âTime to get up.â
âDonât wanna,â she grumbled as she gripped him tighter. âWanna stay here, âm tired.â
âI know, baby, but we canât this morning.â
(Y/N) sighed as she brought herself up on her forearms to look at him. She was endearing, with her fuzzy dark hair and the slight pout to her mouth. A yawn overtook her, and she lowered herself back down onto him so she could stretch properly.
He kept his hand on her back, needing to feel some part of her to know she was still here. He had lived this nightmare once, and knowing how close to losing her he was the last time only made it worse. Knowing she would grow deathly thin and lose the ability to keep food down, and face the emotional struggle of losing her hair made him want to shred something because sheâs done this already, why should she have to to it again?
Ithan gave her until the alarm went off again before gently rolling so he could lay her down on the mattress. She could go in her pyjamas, could wear anything she wanted to this appointment. Pyjamas would be easier, so she could go straight to bed when they got home.
But he wanted to get some things picked up and ready for her so he decided to get dressed.
She whimpered slightly at the loss of warmth as he got up and for a moment he was willing to spend the day in bed with her and never leave. No, he reminded himself. We can do that later. Now, he would help her prepare for this. As much as anyone could prepare for this.
So Ithan had a quick shower and made them both a breakfast; hers was plain and on the smaller side, but he knew she would only be sick later and didnât want her to strain herself too much trying to throw it up. He was in the middle of writing down the mental list he had made when his phone chimed. He pulled it out of his pocket.
BRYCE: text me everything you need picked up today, Iâll grab it for you
Ithan closed his eyes for a moment.
ITHAN: you donât have to do that
The answer came so quickly he wondered if she had it typed out before he even responded.
BRYCE: you should be with her today, not running errands. Now let us help.
He sighed faintly, rubbing a hand over his face in thought before he began typing out the list. It only took him a few minutes, and it wasn't long after that that he was plating breakfast and setting it on their small kitchen table.
He was grateful he hadn't had to worry about asking for time off from Sabine. Last time, it had been like pulling teeth for him to get just one day at home. Since being kicked out of the Den, though, he no longer had to worry about that.
As steam wafted off the plates, Ithan made his way back to the bedroom. The sight he walked into made his heart crack.
(Y/N) sat at the edge of the bed staring at her reflection in the mirror to the right of the bed. Her hands held fistfuls of the hem of her shirt and those eyes, the ones he loved to see bright with laughter, were full of tears threatening to spill down her cheeks.
Without saying anything, Ithan crossed the room and pulled her gently into his arms, as if she were made of the thinnest glass. She clung to the front of his shirt, and after a moment he felt his shoulder dampen. Ithan closed his eyes and splayed a hand flat over her back, lightly pressing her into him.
She murmured something that, if he hadn't been a shifter, he wouldn't have heard; I don't want to do this again.
"I know," he whispered, moving his hand up and down, slightly ruffling the back of her shirt. "I know, I would do it for you if I could."
"I know," (Y/N) whispered back just as quietly. She sniffed, then pulled back so she could look up at him. "I just â I hoped it wouldn't. Come back, I mean."
Ithan managed a weak smile. "I did too."
A sigh fell from her parted lips before she let go of his shirt and wiped the tears from her face. "Okay," she muttered, "okay." She gently slapped her cheeks, shook her head, then huffed. "Okay," she said decidedly, setting her mouth firmly. "Let's â let's get this over with."
He watched her rise from the bed, a picture of exhaustion and perseverance, and step into the hallway. Ithan followed after her, catching up quickly to set a hand on her lower back.
She was unusually quiet as they ate, though that was to be expected for a day like today. It would be a long day for him, and a longer one for her. He watched her take small forkfuls, managing to eat his whole meal in the time it took her to eat half of hers. That was to be expected too. She wasn't a fan of needles, and the most direct way to get the medical concoction into her system was intravenously, which meant an IV.
As she took the last few minutes to brush her teeth and find her slippers, Ithan quickly packed a bag of all the things they had needed last time; ginger tea, blankets, a pillow, the book she had been reading for the last week. There were a few other odds and ends that he threw in at the last minute.
From the apartment to the car there was very little talking, only him asking if she wanted him to pack water â no â or ginger tea â yes â and then telling her she didn't need to bring her key. He didn't want her to have to worry about much today. Only getting better. He followed her outside and smiled faintly at her green and white pyjama pants and the hoodie she wore; one of his.
The moment the engine was on (Y/N) switched the music off; another uncharacteristic action. But she held onto the thermos of ginger tea and stared out the window, watching the traffic go by. Ithan gave her that time to herself and didn't try to start up a conversation. He didn't feel much like talking and was willing to bet she didn't either.
The weather didn't lighten up in the twenty minutes they were in traffic. In fact, the sky only grew darker and darker, a light rain beginning to sprinkle just as they pulled into a parking spot at the medwitch's office.
Ithan tugged the car door open for her and held out a hand, relishing the little smile she gave him as she slid out of her seat.
They went inside and checked her in, then moved to the waiting area. There was only one chair available so Ithan took to standing beside her chair, a hand resting gently on her shoulder. (Y/N) leaned over and set her head on his hand, planting a short kiss to the back of it before settling herself against him.
A warmth he had come to associate with her filled his chest. She was a warm and bright spot in his life, and seeing her as dampened as she was today fractured something irreparably in him.
He reached his other hand over to gently scratch herself, smiling to himself as she relaxed against him. As he stared down at her, her figure so small in comparison to his own, he prayed to every god listening that she would beat the disease again because he truly didn't know what he would do without her in his life.
If he were being honest, he didn't think he would make it. After losing Connor and the rest of the Pack of the Devils', he wasn't sure he wanted to.
When the medwitch â Arna â stepped into the waiting room after Cthona only knew how long and called her name, (Y/N) stood up and reached for his hand, her own trembling. He gripped it and gave it a light squeeze, drawing her attention up to him.
Though she smiled at him, it didn't reach her eyes.
"He can join you if you'd like," Arna told her gently, the dark skinned woman sweeping her curtain of dark hair behind her shoulders.
(Y/N) nodded appreciatively, and then Ithan was following her into the little exam room.
Once (Y/N) was seated on the exam table, Arna went through a variety of tests; blood pressure, temperature, eye exam, blood test, even toxicity levels. All were needed to make the intravenous fluids they would be hooking her up to.
Ithan held her hand as Arna did the blood test, talking quietly to her about something funny Flynn had done a few days ago in an attempt to distract her from the matters at hand. It worked at least a little, because he was able to get a small smile from her.
From there Arna had her sit in the comfortable arm chair positioned in the far corner of the office, an IV pole jutting up from behind it. (Y/N) began trembling the slightest bit as she made her way over to it, sinking into the cushions. But she kept her jaw set and her expression firm.
All he wanted to do was hold her, but he refrained from doing that. Instead, he squatted down next to the chair and reached for her hand. She took it without hesitation. Something in him swelled with pride at that, but he pushed the thought away. This wasn't the time.
Arna explained what she was going to be doing, beginning with cleaning the needle and ending with inserting the IV catheter into her arm. He gagged slightly at the process, but hid it as best as he could because though (Y/N) had forced herself to stop trembling for the sake of the needle going into her, tears were streaming down her face.
Ithan did his best to distract her, telling her all about Bryce going shopping for them, snorting quietly as he explained she hadn't given him a choice. That had gotten him the faintest of smiles, and he was willing to take what he could get. Arna told her to ring the bell on the wall if she needed anything, and then stepped out of the room. The door closed softly behind her.
To keep her focused on him, he told her stories from his time living in the frat house with Ruhn, Dec and Flynn. About the time he had woken up to a very naked Flynn sprawled out on the island in the kitchen; he had been forced to sanitized everything after becoming alert enough to recognize where he was. About the time Ruhn had nearly burnt the house down trying to make pasta. How Dec had found out Flynn had been watching porn on his work computer and they'd almost had to bury a body.
Though he could see the discomfort in her eyes, (Y/N) laugh at each story, her chin ducked slightly as her gaze shifted occasionally from him to her knees.
This went on for nearly three hours.
By the time Arna was coming back to remove the catheter, (Y/N) was practically asleep in the chair, Ithan having draped a blanket from their bag over her lap around the one hour mark. He had also positioned her pillow between her head and the wall so she had something to lean against. She hadn't let go of his hand.
"(Y/N)," Ithan murmured, giving her hand a light nudge.
Sleepy eyes opened so endearingly he swore something in his chest cracked.
Ithan wasn't sure if he had ever been in love before (Y/N), but he honestly couldn't care. It didn't really matter what he had or hadn't felt back then; all he knew was that this girl meant the world to him and he would feel the way he did about her for the rest of his life.
"Are we done?" She asked through a small yawn.
She already loved naps, and the treatment only exacerbated that.
Arna was smiling. "Yeah, honey, we're done."
In the following minutes, Arna monitored (Y/N) to ensure she didn't faint after having the IV taken out, and to ensure there would be no negative side effects to the treatment. Ithan gave her the tea to drink, and then began packing up the pillow.
"Can I keep it?" (Y/N) asked as he reached for the blanket. She sounded so small, so quiet, that the very nature of him screamed to save her from this.
But he knew he couldn't. "Of course," he murmured. Quickly, he ducked down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, smiling faintly as her cheeks flushed the tiniest bit.
He watched (Y/N) wrap the blanket around her shoulders and cling to each side so it was pulled tight around her. She set her chin on her covered hands and stared blankly at the floor, her mind clearly miles away.
âSheâs bound to be tired tonight, but try to get her to eat at least a little bit,â Arna murmured softly, nodding toward her once.
Ithan nodded. âYeah, I remember. Iâve got ginger tea ready for her, and a family friend is picking up some things she might be able to eat.â
âGood, good.â
She went on to tell him what to keep an eye out for, what to expect, and then handed him a list of phone numbers and medications to pick up before the end of the day. By the time he looked back at (Y/N), she was seated back in her chair fast asleep.
He smiled faintly and just watched her for a minute, wanting to give her just a short moment of peace. But he knew she would sleep better in her own bed, so he gently shook her shoulder and felt his heart skip a beat as she opened her eyes.
(Y/N) blinked blearily. âTime to go?â She asked, fighting a yawn.
Ithan set a hand on top of her head. âYeah, baby. Time to go.â
She rose to her feet tiredly, keeping the blanket pulled tightly around herself. Ithan hooked an arm around her shoulders and tugged her into his side as they exited the treatment room, gently rubbing her arms as they walked back to the car.
The light rain had turned into a heavy drizzle in the time they were inside, and the only sound for the entirety of the drive home was the wish-wash of the windshield wipers. When he glanced over at her the first time, (Y/N) was leaned against the window with her eyes closed, her breathing slow and even. Asleep again.
Even though it was barely 1PM, he would go to bed with her. He would try to get her to eat something, and they he would lay in bed with her for as long as she wanted.
The last time she was in treatment she was cold all the time. It didnât matter how many blankets or sweaters or pairs of socks she wore, she couldnât keep herself warm. So he would try his best to keep her comfortable. He could only hope Bryce had already gotten the things on his list so everything would be ready for her.
As he pulled into a parking spot in their complex he nudged her awake again. Her eyes barely opened.
Ithan hummed quietly to himself and then, after grabbing their bag, went around to her side. âHop on my back,â he murmured.
She was indefinitely tired because she didnât put up a fight over it. Just hooked her arms around his neck. He had his free hand under her bum, holding her up.
They took the elevator to their floor, and then walked the silent fourteen seconds down the hall to their apartment. The door was unlocked, and as he stepped inside the scent of something good wafted into the doorway.
âIthan?â
Bryce.
âYup,â he murmured back.
He set (Y/N) back on her feet, though she grumbled about it, and dropped the bag at the front door.
Dressed in a simple skirt, black top and her usual thigh high boots, Bryce poked her head out of the kitchen. âHey, hun,â she hummed, her gentle smile directed at (Y/N). âHowâre we doing?â
She smiled sleepily and waved, her hand still gripping with the blanket. âTired.â
âTotally fair, babes.â
Ithan held her hand as they wandered into the kitchen where he found Hunt mixing something on the stove. The male turned back to look at them, giving him a nod Ithan nodded back.
âIâll never understand that nod,â Bryce rolled her eyes, crossing the room to pull (Y/N) into a gentle hug.
She smiled faintly. âI donât think I will either.â
She seemed the way she usually did in that moment, normal. The sight made him both content and heartbroken.
He caught Huntâs gaze and found the male watching him with a knowing look. Ithan arched a brow, nodding toward the concoction being cooked on the stove.
Smiling faintly, Hunt just shrugged and nodded toward Bryce. That made sense. Bryce was always one to cook for people when there was something negative going on; an apology, a fight, a sickness . . .
Ithan cleared his throat and pressed a quick kiss to (Y/N)âs head again, splaying his hand between her shoulder blades. âWatcha makinâ?â He asked curiously.
At that Bryce smiled that brilliant grin that once had him in love with her. Now, all he felt was that he was grateful she was finally happy. âItâs just some meat and vegetables, I added some spices but I tried to keep it neutral for you, (Y/N).â
Smiling thankfully at her, (Y/N) hugged her again. âIâm so sorry, I donât think I can eat right now, but I really appreciate it,â she murmured.
Bryce waved a manicured hand. âDonât even worry about it, itâs meant to be microwaved, I swear.â
He loved her for that.
(Y/N) was the type of person to eat whatever was put in front of her, even if it made her sick. The fact that she was advocating for herself was a big step, and he was grateful to Bryce for easing the anxiety she was likely feeling over it.
Bryce and Hunt only stayed for the half hour it took them to finish making their dish before Bryce was kissing her cheeks after hugging her, Hunt was gently tugging her into his side and patting her shoulder, and they were out the door.
Ithan put it into containers and left the lids partly off so it could cool off. Once it was set on the counter, he nudged (Y/N) in the direction of their bedroom. He smiled faintly as she shuffled her way down the short hall before plopping herself down on the end of the bed.
Without needing to ask, he gently tugged her slippers off her feet and replaced them with the thick fluffy socks she had worn to bed the night before. He couldnât help but chuckle as she wiggled her toes once they were on.
âHowâre you feeling?â He asked softly as he rose to his feet.
(Y/N) shrugged once. âNot good,â she admitted quietly, her eyes cast downward. âI just wanna go to bed.â
âOkay then,â he hummed. âLetâs go to bed, then.â
Her eyes lit up slightly at that. âYouâll come too?â
âYeah, if thatâs okay.â
She nodded rapidly, and he couldnât help the smile that tugged at his mouth. He would stay in bed with her all day every day, if he could.
So he quickly changed back into his pyjamas and yanked the curtains shut, then sat down on the bed beside (Y/N), who had already crawled under the blankets and was curled up in her usual spot. Without a word she lifted up the covers for him, allowing him to slide into the space next to her.
As soon as he was on his back, comfortable, she was shuffling over and wrapping her arms around his middle. She moved one of them gingerly; the one the IV had been put in. Ithan was careful not to jar it as he pulled her up against his chest.
"Comfy?" He asked her as she settled against him. As he felt her nod, he couldn't help but smile. She was just so god damn cute.
Ithan wasn't sure how long they had been laying there, his hand gently rubbing her back, before he both felt and heard her breathing slow, evening out until it was a perfect rhythm. She had fallen asleep.
He kept his hand slowly moving up and down her spine, not caring that his arm had begun to tire. As long as she was comfortable, it didn't matter. To keep her comfortable â especially after today â he would do anything.
He stared out the window through the gap in the curtains and watched the rain fall for the remainder of the afternoon.
AUTHORS NOTE: Okay you guys, this one can technically be read as a stand-alone I think but it's meant to be a part two of "LIQUID CHAOS" so I hope it makes sense to everyone :)
Also I wrote literally 1000 words for this and somehow deleted it so I apologize if this is shit, I tried to remember what I had but I don't think I got all of it, I feel like it's actually awful
LENGTH: 3954
The first thing Ruhn registered when he opened his eyes was the fact that his head was pounding. It took everything in him just to open his eyes, and even then he had to close them right away. His curtains were open, and the god damn sun was too bright.
Of all the days to be sunny and nice out, it had to be today.
He could hear birds chirping outside, the melody only adding to the headache pulsing at his temples. Though the sun was shining, a cool breeze blew through his cracked bedroom window; that was the only nice part.
A soft groan escaped him as he shifted in bed, slowly reaching up to hold his head. How much had he drank last night?
It had been a long time since he had been this hungover, in fact, he was fairly certain it had been years. He wondered if this was how Bryce felt every weekend when she had been a student.
More than anything, he was irritated with Flynn and Dec for letting him drink as much as he had. Especially because he worked the following morning, and he would spend all of today recovering from his escapades the night before.
What had happened the night before?
He remembered being late for the dance they had promised to meet (Y/N) at. He had been hurrying Flynn along for a good half hour before he finally found the tie he'd been looking for. He had wanted one to compliment his eyes or some shit. They had taken a cab to the venue, and he remembered the entirety the car ride being worried about what (Y/N) had been subjected to in their absence.
It took him a moment to recall the next portion of the events.
When they had stepped inside, they had found her dancing with a male he hadn't seen before, his hands roaming over her while she was clearly uncomfortable with the whole interaction. He remembered it had taken everything in him not to interrupt and pummel the male into the perfectly varnished floor.
Flynn and Dec had held him in place until the song ended, and (Y/N) scrambled away from the male toward them as quickly as she could in a pair of shoes he knew she didn't like. Her face had been twisted into a deep scowl, one that made him a little nervous. He knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of that look, and it wasn't good.
She had told them the male was handsy, so Dec and Flynn had taken care of it while he stood with her at the edge of the crowd, just making small talk while she glared daggers at first the male, then her shoes.
Ruhn pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to remember the rest. It was all hazy, thanks to the alcohol. He was willing to bet it had been whiskey. Whiskey was the only drink that really affected him like this.
Another series of events came to him.
While Dec and Flynn were out . . . dealing with the male, he and (Y/N) had stood side by side, the warmth of her arm against his own, as they talked about her dances and how many he would go to . . . he couldn't remember the exact details of the conversation. Then she had mentioned finding a partner.
Ruhn knew instantly then, that was why he had been drinking.
For nearly 35 years now, he had been in love with one of his best friends.
He wasn't sure when it had begun, in fact he wasn't even sure when he realized it. All he knew was that one day he was looking at her, wanting to shut her up with a bag of chocolates he knew she liked and the next he wanted to shut her up by kissing her. Ruhn hadn't seen it coming.
It was like the ocean creeping up on the shore; slow and unnoticeable, but undeniable.
He was in love with her, and the idea of her being with someone else made him sick to his stomach because he knew her. He knew this wasn't what she wanted because he knew she wasn't ready. She had even said she just wanted her parents to leave her alone. Ruhn understood that more than he wanted to.
The fact that she hadn't said she wanted to find someone, she said that she wanted to be left alone. In her exact words, maybe having someone wouldn't be so bad. Like she was trying to convince herself.
Sitting on the couch that night, that was all he could think about. He drank until he was well past tipsy, and the walls began blurring in and out of focus as he went even beyond that until the rest of the night came in brief flashes of consciousness. He could barely make sense of any of them.
Ruhn sat up slowly, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes in an attempt to block out the light. When he finally dropped his hands, he started.
The chair in the corner of his room was occupied.
Dec looked as if he hadn't gotten any sleep at all; dark bags bruised the skin beneath his eyes, which were drooping closed as he stared at Ruhn's figure on the bed. "Morning," he muttered drily, raising one eyebrow.
Glancing around the room slowly, Ruhn nodded to him. "Mornin'," he rasped.
God, he even sounded hungover.
Looking beyond disgruntled, Dec asked, "how'd you sleep?"
Ruhn stared at him for a moment, feeling as if he had to choose his words carefully. "Okay, I guess. I don't remember coming up to bed, though."
"You're welcome for that," Dec muttered. Then he cleared his throat. "So you don't remember getting up and starfish flopping your way down the hall into my room?"
A flash of a moment flickered through his mind, a very drunken thought of god damned walls, always moving in the way which made no sense to him.
He blinked twice. "Kinda . . . ?"
Dec rolled his lips inward. "Okay, so you don't remember anything else from last night?"
He was clearly hinting at something that Ruhn couldn't figure out. His brows furrowed as he tried to place it. Did I break a fucking wall? What the hell happened?
It wouldn't have had anything to do with the conversation that he and Dec had been having on the walk back to their house. Ruhn had been trying to explain why he so desperately needed a drink; Dec had told him to figure his shit out and maybe explain to (Y/N) what he felt for her.
He and Flynn had picked up on it around 10 years ago, and had been pestering him to tell her ever since. Flynn's reasoning was that they would likely be the hottest couple in Crescent City, whereas Dec simply told him that they both deserved to be happy. (Flynn then went on to say that he also meant that as well, obviously.)
The way the conversation on the walk had gone was the way it had been going on for years. Dec telling him to grow a pair. Ruhn telling him to eat a dick. Dec telling him not right now.
It was never-ending.
But he humoured them because he loved them.
The thought triggered something in him, another memory of a hazy door opening, giving way to the most beautiful female he had ever seen. He knew that it was Dec's room, recognized the scratches on the doorframe. Her hair was a tangled mess, and she was in a pair of sleep shorts and an old T-shirt she had stolen from Flynn, and she was perfect.
I love you like I don't want you to look for someone else, I want you to look for me.
Ruhn's eyes snapped over, his face twisting with horror as he looked over at Dec.
"There it is," his friend muttered, dragging a hand down the side of his face with exhaustion.
He would get on his knees and beg, plead with him to explain that he was crazy. But his stomach sank because he knew it wasn't. Ruhn choked back the bile rising in his throat. "I can't â I don't â what did she say?"
Dec leaned forward and sent his elbow on his knee and his chin in the palm of that hand. "Well, she gave you two choices." Ruhn sucked in a sharp breath. "She said you could either pretend it never happened, or you two could talk about it."
His lips rolled inward. "But she didn't â she didn't say it back." It was more of a statement than a question.
Hesitantly, Dec said, "no, she didn't."
Ruhn dragged a hand down his face, ignoring the tinge of hurt that flickered through his chest. "Fuck," he muttered, allowing his eyes to fall shut.
Mortified. He was mortified.
He had blabbed one of his most close-kept secrets in a drunken haze because she said she might start looking for a partner. He was utterly ridiculous. The sinking feeling that he had just ruined one of his most cherished relationships washed over him, knotting his stomach until he was bolting out of bed for his connected bathroom.
"Here we go," he heard Dec sigh in between retching.
From the corner of his eye he could see his friend lean against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. Ruhn wasn't sure how long he was heaving into the toilet, but when the nausea passed and he collapsed backwards so his back was against the wall opposite of the toilet, he sighed. "I'm an idiot."
"Yup," Dec said, popping the p.
"I'm never drinking again."
"Probably a good idea."
But they both knew that would last maybe a week. It was hard to avoid alcohol with their lifestyle.
Ruhn rubbed his face and groaned. "What the fuck is wrong with me?"
"You're an idiot incapable of expressing his feelings because you've got daddy issues."
"Fuck off, Dec."
He rose to his feed and strode back into his room. The first thing he did was yank the curtains closed; he'd had enough of sunshiney bullshit. Then he sat on the foot of his bed and stared blankly at the wall.
Dec took a seat in his armchair.
"What the fuck do I do," he grimaced after a long period of silence.
"Talk to her."
"I can't do that."
"Well, you seemed pretty good at it last night."
Ruhn grumbled lowly, irritated, but changed the subject. "Where is she?"
Humming as he adjusted his position on the chair, Dec said, "last I heard, Flynn took her out shopping. She was a little overwhelmed."
Guilt flooded through him. She was overwhelmed because he was an idiot. "Why didn't you stop me?"
Dec arched a brow. "I tried. We talked about it for three hours on the couch while your drunk-ass moped and grumbled about wanting to be with her until you passed out and I hauled you into bed. I thought you'd be out 'til morning, so I also went to bed. Me and (Y/N) woke up to you fuckin' face planting into the bedroom door at 4AM. I was half asleep when you opened your mouth."
That was fair. He knew it wasn't Dec's fault that he had confessed. It wasn't anyone's fault but his, and pinning the blame wouldn't get him anywhere. "I'm sorry," he muttered.
Dec's expression softened. "Just talk to her," he said gently. "She didn't say it back, but she didn't shut you down, either."
He did have a point . . . not that he even remembered the conversation happening. Maybe she hadn't been horrified.
"What if she doesn't want to talk to me?"
"Ruhn; she literally said you could forget it or talk about it. Trust me, she wants to talk to you."
Even though a part of him was hopeful, he couldn't ignore the pit in his stomach. There was a good possibility he had ruined everything because he had been feeling sorry for himself.
If he lost (Y/N) over this . . .
Well, he wasn't sure he would be able to forgive himself. He wasn't sure Dec and Flynn would forgive him, either.
As he thought about what to do, Dec left the room. He had heard the car door closing outside, and knew that Flynn and (Y/N) had come back. It felt cowardly, but he stayed in his room for quite a while.
He wasn't quite ready to face her yet.
Ruhn set his elbows on his knees and let his face fall into his hands.
This was not how he pictured doing this.
In his head, he always thought he would be alone with her, out for lunch or cooking in their kitchen or in the middle of a party. He didn't care where. It would be just the two of them somewhere, and he would be watching her do something she loved and not be able to contain it anymore.
He would say something really heartfelt, and it would probably be one of the most honest things he would ever say in his long life. She wouldn't cry over it. Not (Y/N). No, she would call him an idiot, then kiss him, and it would be the best part of his life.
And he would spend the rest of that life with her.
But he had fucked that up. One drunken decision had fucked it up completely, and there was a good possibility she would never want to speak to him again.
But she wants to talk to you, that tiny voice in his head reminded him. And she never says something she doesn't mean.
There was that.
But what did she want to talk about?
Ruhn wasn't sure how long he sat there, going over things again and again until his head was spinning.
Eventually he decided fuck it and went downstairs. He wasn't going to be a little bitch about this. It would be better once it was over and done with.
Even if he wasn't ready to lose her, even if he never would be, he would respect that choice if she made it.
But when he got downstairs, he didn't find her sitting on the couch watching Dec and Flynn play on their Xbox like he thought he would. In fact, he didn't find her anywhere.
"Where is she?"
Flynn glanced back quickly at him, then cursed as Dec killed his character in one move. "She didn't come back with me."
Ruhn blinked once. "What?"
He shrugged. "She didn't want to, said she was waiting for you to decide what you wanted and couldn't stay in the house while you did."
His heartbeat picked up slightly, a foreign nervousness settling in his chest. "Why would you leave her alone?"
Dec paused the game and met his gaze. "Because she's fully capable of taking care of herself."
It was irrational. He was being completely irrational. But he worried that because she was so distracted, she wouldn't be as vigilant. Something could happen to her.
"Where did you leave her?"
Flynn glanced over at Dec before answering. "Near the old square. Said she wanted coffee."
Ruhn rolled his lips inward. He knew exactly where she would go for coffee.
Without saying another word to them, Ruhn ducked into the kitchen and downed a couple painkillers for his headache, snatched his keys off the coffee table and a jacket off the back of the house â he was pretty sure it was Flynn's â then left the house. He was in his car seconds later, driving purely on autopilot.
What would he say to her?
He would let her talk first, he knew that much. She deserved the chance to talk before he added more to her plate. And he knew he would respect whatever decision she made, even if it broke him.
It felt like both hours and minutes later that he was parking on the side of the street outside her go-to coffee shop. As he put the car in park and glance out the windshield, he saw her sitting at one of the outdoor tables and it struck him how pretty she looked.
Staring down at the disposable coffee cup on the table as she warmed her hands on it, her hair shifting in the gentle breeze. She was dressed the way she usually was; a long skirt that reached her ankles paired with a nice blouse, a long tan pea coat pulled over top to shield her from the wind.
Beautiful.
But more importantly, safe.
Ruhn would deny the fact that his hands trembled as he got out of the car. After locking it and pocketing his keys, he stepped up onto the sidewalk and slowly made his way toward her, only stopping when his figure blocked the sun from her.
At that she looked up with soft, empty eyes and just like every time he had seen her for the past thirty some-odd years, he was a goner. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his own jacket and offered her a smile that felt morel like a grimace. "Hey," he breathed.
(Y/N) smiled faintly at him. "Hey," she murmured back. After a moment of silence, she gestured for him to take a seat across from her and he did. "I honestly thought you'd decided to pretend you never said anything," she said softly, allowing her gaze to fall back down to her cup.
Ruhn took in a shaky breath, anxiety building in his chest. But he forced himself to speak. "I don't think I could do that," he admitted quietly.
She glanced up quickly before looking back down. "I don't think I could either."
His heart lurched at that. What did that mean?
After exhaling a long breath, (Y/N) shifted so she was sitting up straighter, staring right at him. Ruhn found it difficult to hold her gaze, but he forced himself to. "Did you mean what you said last night?" She asked quietly. "When you said you wanted me to look to you as a partner?"
He didn't need to think about it. "Yes."
"You weren't just saying it as a stupid drunk thing?"
"No."
She inhaled sharply. "Okay, so um . . . I need you to be honest; what do you feel for me exactly?"
Fucking fuckity fuck.
His mouth felt dry. "I--" Ruhn drew in a shaky breath and forced himself to speak. "I love you, (Y/N)," he told her honestly, and a weight he hadn't realized was there lifted from his shoulders. "I love you, and I have for a really long time. I haven't -- I didn't say anything, I didn't want to, because having you in my life is important to me, I don't care how you in it and I'd rather keep you as a friend than lose you as a lover."
The words came out rushed, but by the time he was done he still felt out of breath.
(Y/N) was silent for a long moment, those god damn eyes staring over at him with hesitation so intense he just wanted to pull her into him and keep her there. "Okay," she whispered, biting down on her bottom lip as she disappeared into her mind in thought. It was silent for a couple minutes as she contemplated what he had said.
It was the longest two minutes of his life.
"I think--" she said finally, still avoiding his gaze. "I'm sorry, this is all just . . . a lot."
Ruhn winced. "I know, and I'm sorry you found out the way you did."
She shook her head. "I'm sorry you had to give up your secret."
All he could do was shrug. "It was bound to come out some time. I've kept it long enough. To be honest with you, I think Dec and Flynn were ready to tell you pretty soon if I didn't."
(Y/N) snickered quietly and took a sip of her coffee, pondering. "How long?"
He knew exactly what she meant. How long have you felt this way? "Thirty years," he whispered, looking down at the table.
When he finally looked back up, he found her staring at him, her eyes full of an emotion he couldn't place. "Ruhn," she said softly, and then moved one of her hands to the middle of the table while the other kept its grip on her cup.
Without giving it much thought, he set both his hands on the table and took hers in his grasp. Though he was a little cold, the warmth that spread thorough his body was better than anything a hot drink could bring him.
"I didn't want you to hate me," he whispered, staring down at their hands. He would stay here forever if he could.
(Y/N) let go of her coffee and set her hand on top of theirs. "It would take a lot to make me hate you," she told him, and he could hear the honesty in her voice.
He hoped that was true.
"Um," she said quietly, looking down at her coffee cup again. "The reason I wanted to talk about this is, uh, I 've been feeling . . . something for you for a little while now, I don't know what because I never really let myself consider anything coming of it, but I'm thinking--" she inhaled sharply "--I think I would be okay with seeing what that is."
Ruhn blinked. This wasn't real. It had to be a dream. He was dreaming.
There was no way he was hearing her correctly.
Discretely he pinched himself. It was real. His heartbeat quickened as he stared at her, a small smile blooming on his face. "You want to give it a shot. With me."
(Y/N)'s cheeks flushed pink, darkening the already wind-chilled colour present. "Yes," she said quietly, still avoiding his gaze.
It took everything in him not to yank her out of her chair and spin her around out of sheer joy. She was willing to try with him. Ruhn didn't care that she had no idea what she felt for him, and part of his was saddened to know she hadn't thought he would ever consider her this way because how could he not? All he knew was that he had a chance.
One chance, and he had no intention of squandering it. He would take things slowly, maybe start off with taking her to dinner and maybe a movie. He would do it right.
Fighting away the widest grin he'd ever smiled, Ruhn nodded repeatedly. "Okay, okay. Um, I guess I should probably ask you out for dinner then."
A smile twitched at her lips. "Only if you want to."
He couldn't help but snort. "Is that even a question after last night?"
(Y/N) seemed to be fighting a smile as well. "It kinda is, I'm not sure if you remember what you said last night but you told me you wanted me to look for you, not that you wanted me."
Little shit.
Ruhn rolled his eyes. "I've wanted you for thirty years, (Y/N)."
Her cheeks darkened further, and he promised himself that he would make it happen again because he now knew he loved making her blush. More than anything else in the world, he loved that he was capable of it.
He pressed his lips together, biting back a grin. "So we're going to give it a shot, then?"
(Y/N)'s eyes sparkled as she looked at him. "Yeah, we might as well."
AUTHORS NOTE:
This is my first post! Welcome to my garbage writing you guys, I hope you enjoy :)
I don't think there's too many descriptors in this one, but I could be super wrong lmao. Also I was listening to this as I wrote this and you super don't have to listen to it while you read but I feel like it might help with the ambience if that makes any sense. also the title is supposed to be a play on âliquid courageâ but I feel like thatâs super not obvious at all
PART TWO: Liquid Warmth
LENGTH: 6306 words
Under the light of an autumn full moon, poised at the edge of a dance floor, (Y/N) stood with her back against one of several pillars encircling the outdoor ballroom. As the unmarried daughter of a well known lord and lady, she had been expected to show up at this dance and find herself a good political match.
She despised it. Her three childhood friends had promised to come and save her, had promised they would be there to weed out the weaker options being laid at her feet. They had yet to show up.
From the day she had turned six years old, Tristan Flynn, Declan Emmett and the crowned prince, Ruhn Danaan, had been her closest friends. They had been inseparable for nearly 70 years now. She would sneak over to their house in the middle of the night whenever she could just to get some peace and quiet; her mother and father put on a good show, but they didn't get along.
Screaming matches were frequent and had been for years.
Her boys had been there with her through everything. Even her first cycle, for fucks sake. It had scared the piss out of them all, which she laughed about now. She loved them dearly.
Every dance she was expected to go to, they would stand with her to keep her, for the most part, inaccessible. There were few males who were willing to brave their company for something as trivial as a dance.
Her father hated it, hated that they were the reason she had yet to find a husband, but how could he deny her being accompanied by the crowned prince of the Valbarren Fae?
But they had disappointed her tonight.
No, disappointed wasn't the right word. She knew she couldn't expect them to attend every evening party for her, not when they had their own lives. Their own parties to attend.
(Y/N) had just hoped she had more time. Then again, she always was.
A young faun carrying a tray of glasses filled with champagne, and (Y/N) discretely snagged two, smiling and explaining that one was for her partner who had just stepped out to the bathroom. Bullshit. They were both for her.
If she was going to be dealing with this, she wouldn't be dealing with it sober.
She could feel her fathers eyes piercing her from across the dance floor as he moved about with her mother, and she was careful to avoid eye contact. It wouldn't get her anywhere anyway.
(Y/N) downed one glass in a single mouthful. It was going to be a long night, she knew. Her parents would expect her to have chosen a handful of potential suitors by the time they went home. The mere thought had a headache forming at her temples.
She downed the second glass, just as a voice spoke up from beside her; "would you like to dance with me?"
The male before her was tall, his dark hair trimmed into the average fae male's haircut. His tunic and pants were a soft blue colour, gold trimmings embroidered in detail. His brown eyes were nothing beyond power hungry, and she sighed.
This might as well happen.
"Sure," (Y/N) muttered.
His hand clasped her as she pushed herself off the pillar, and they made their way onto the dance floor.
This would be painful. Her dance lessons had been one of her most despised classes growing up, but there was no denying she was damn good at it. She could only hope that her feet would still be intact by the end of the song.
She adjusted herself to be in the proper stance, a proper distance away from him, only to be tugged closer to his chest. God fucking dammit, boys.
As the orchestra started up with the newest song, their movements began. It wasn't long after that that she felt his hands moving around her body, getting a good feel of her. (Y/N) did her best to keep herself away from him, but it was difficult to do without causing a scene. She had no intention of dealing with her parents if she became the center of attention.
Towards the end of the song three dark figures all but tumbled in through the entryway, dressed in nice suits with their hair â one long, two short â combed to perfection. (Y/N) noticed them looking around frantically before their eyes all landed on her, and they cringed at the look she sent them.
Her gaze snagged on Ruhn for a moment, taking in the midnight blue suit that clung to his figure perfectly, and she knew right then that it was one of his tailored pieces. The majority of his tattoos were hidden by the suit jacket and white button up shirt, small whisps twirling up his neck and peaking above the collar. The only noticeable sign of rebellion against his father was that silver lip ring.
She noticed absently that the colour of her dress matched his suit perfectly.
Ruhn looked good, but then again all three of them did. Flynn in his forest green tux and Dec in his usual black button up and a suit colour to match, they were all handsome. Pretty, even.
Though the musical piece wasn't extraordinarily long, it was long enough for her to be certain the male got a feel of every part of her. When the song ended and he tried to pull her in again, she said her polite goodbyes and made her way off the dance floor in the direction of her friends.
Dec was talking before she could get a word in. "I'm so so sorry, this idiotâ" a blatant gesture to Flynn, who smiled sheepishly "âcouldn't find the right tie and apparently he wanted to look good for the ladies or some bullshit and it took him foreverâ"
"âit's fine, honestly," (Y/N) grimaced, glancing over to where the male now stood. He was talking with another male she was assuming was a friend of his, both of them watching her with what she could only describe as smirks on their faces.
But she knew neither of them would approach her now. Not with Ruhn at her side.
"Still, I'm sorry," Flynn murmured, tugging her into his side for a quick hug. The action crinkled the fabric of her dress at the hem, but she didn't care. Yes, it was pretty, and she did love dresses and pretty things, but she loved her boys more. "I just figured, if I'm gonna be here, I might as well look for a lady for tonight."
"You're an idiot, Flynn," Dec muttered, rolling his eyes as he pulled her in for a brief hug as well.
Ruhn was the last to hold her, his embrace lasting longer than both of the other two combined. He smelled of an expensive cologne and the night air, his scent calming her discomfort. "You alright?" He murmured, one hand rubbing her back before he pulled away.
(Y/N) huffed, then nodded.
She turned to look at the male she had danced with, annoyed that she hadn't caught his name before stepping away from him. She'd like to let Flynn get some boxing practice with him as the punching bag.
He met her gaze with that stupid grin of his, and held up a glass of champagne to her as if to toast. Instantly, her eyes narrowed.
Flynn whistled quietly. "Whose balls are we putting up on the Christmas tree this year?" He snorted, brows flying upward.
Normally she would wave it off with a roll of her eyes, clearly taking it as a joke. Not tonight. Not when this male had been so disgusting and disrespectful he deserved to wander around with a broken nose for months. "Him," she said firmly, clenching her jaw.
As her boys looked in his direction, he seemed to notice the hard stares he was receiving and intelligently step further into the crowd.
"What did he do?" Ruhn asked, his tone carefully calm. She knew that voice. It was the voice he used when he was ready to take someone back into the garden and have them swallow their own teeth.
"Aside from touching literally every inch of me in the middle of a public dance?" (Y/N) snorted, glancing down at herself.
Her dress wasn't all that form-fitting or revealing, either. Her father would never buy anything that would flaunt the figure she had. She had worn this dress as a sort of peace offering, to appease her parents into letting her stay with her friends for the majority of the night.
Now, she just wanted to burn it.
Two warm hands clasped her upper arms, catching her attention. She looked up into the pair of violet-blue eyes that studied her carefully. "I don't have to tell you that you did nothing wrong, right?" He ask quietly so only she could hear,
(Y/N) scoffed. "He's the pervy creep here, not me," she grumbled. "I didn't do shit." Then she sighed. "I'm not drunk enough for this, Ruhn, I'm really not."
At that, he laughed. The sound made her feel warm, as it always did.
Sometime in the last ten years or so, she had betrayed the deal she had made with herself and had formed a tiny crush on him. Tiny. Miniscule. It was barely there, she had decided.
It didn't stop her heart from racing every time he smiled in her direction. Or the way she glanced at his lips too many times while he spoke. Or that she liked the way he put his arm around her shoulder. Orâ
Shut the fuck up, now isn't the time for this.
"Do you want me to find something stronger for you?" Ruhn snorted, still grinning. The first light winked off the metal of his lip ringâ
Fuck, I'm staring at his mouth again.
Immediately, her eyes snapped back up to his to find him watching her curiously.
"No," she sighed, fighting the urge to wipe a hand down her face. It would ruin the makeup she'd spent over an hour doing, and she hadn't brought anything to fix it. "If I have any more I'll end up knocking that guy on his ass and probably get grounded or some bullshit."
It was ridiculous, the notion that her parents could still ground her at nearly 75 years old, but she stilled lived under their roof. She had considered moving in with her boys, and they had offered a good two dozen times in the last couple years alone, but she knew it would ruin any kind of future relationships Ruhn and Flynn could have.
They had a tendency to go for the jealous type, and she had no intention of getting in the middle of that.
"Don't even worry about him," Ruhn hummed, his arm now brushing against hers as they watched the crowd mill about and twirl around in pairs. "Dec and Flynn are taking care of it."
(Y/N) felt guilty when she noticed that her other two boys were, in fact, gone. She hadn't even realized it.
As if reading her mind, Ruhn said, "they were discrete about it. Didn't want you joining in, you'd ruin your little dress there." He bumped his hip against hers, grinning.
She snorted at that. "It's not a little dress and you know it. This thing probably weighs more than I do."
He chuckled, and there was that warmth spreading through her again. "Yeah, probably."
(Y/N) rolled her lips inward. "Flynn won't get into shit with his parents, will he?"
"Don't think they'll care to be honest with you. Besides; he's been itching for a fight for days, this just gives him a reason."
"I'm glad to hear I'm a good excuse," she grinned.
Ruhn's smiled faltered slightly at that as he turned to look down at her. "You're not an excuse, you know that."
She stared down at her hands to avoid the intensity of his gaze. "I know."
He hummed quietly. "Good."
(Y/N) rubbed her lips together slightly before glancing up and saying, "I really appreciate you guys coming out to all of these things for me."
Ruhn tilted his head slightly as he bit absentmindedly at the lip ring and holy fuckâ
"We'll do it for another 75 years, if you want. We won't stop showing up for you until you're actually ready to find someone.," he told her simply.
Surveying the crowd briefly, (Y/N) said, "I don't think I want to find someone at one of these. I'd rather meet them some other way. Any other way."
At that he glanced down at is feet, adjusting his stance so he was close enough that their arms were pressed together. She watched his throat bob; he looked . . . irritated? "Then we'll help you find someone that way."
She wanted to say I've already found someone, but she had no intention of ever admitting that to anyone. Not even to Dec, who knew all of her secrets. All but this one.
Besides, it would go away eventually.
(Y/N) smiled faintly up at him and squeezed his arm. "You and the boys will have to approve of him, anyway."
"Fat chance that'll happen."
At the sound of Flynn's voice she turned around and found him and Dec wandering back toward them looking just as they did when they arrived . . . aside from the blood flecking the collar of Flynn's white dress shirt and a small spatter on his face.
She couldn't help but laugh. "Had fun?"
The smile Flynn gave her reminded (Y/N) why he was so popular with the women in Crescent City. "Always," he grinned cheekily.
She just rolled her eyes.
"You want a drink?" Ruhn asked gruffly from beside her, drawing her attention away from Flynn. He seemed tired now. No, not tired. More like . . . defeated?
When she nodded uncertainly in response, he sauntered off into the crowd, nodding politely but passing everyone who tried to start a conversation with him. (Y/N) briefly let her eyes land on his ass before glancing away as quickly as possible.
If the other two noticed where her attention had gone, she'd be mortified. They weren't looking at her, rather they were looking at him, so she assumed they hadn't.
"He's never going to, you know."
(Y/N) turned to look at Dec, who watched her knowingly, her brows furrowing. "Never going to what?"
"Approve," Flynn shrugged. "You said any male you choose would have to get our approval. He's never going to approve of one."
She blinked, then set a hand on her hip. "Why the hell not?"
Dec muttered something under his breath that she didn't quite catch, but it sounded a whole lot like cause you're both blind morons who can't see what's in front of you.
Flynn just threw his hands up in the air as he turned to look at his friend in exasperation.
"Seriously," she demanded, hiking her skirts up just enough so she would trip while stepping toward them. "Why not?"
"Because he doesn't think anyone will ever be good enough for you," Dec sighed, then pinched the bridge of his nose with what she recognized to be irritation.
Thanks to her fae hearing, she heard Flynn mumble I just can't with this right now, while Dec followed up with a short I know.
What the fuck did that mean?
She sensed Ruhn behind her before she saw him, feeling his presence come up behind her. "Why does Dec look like he needs to see a therapist?" He murmured quietly while handing her a glass of a red liquid.
(Y/N) took it from him, frowning. "I . . . don't know," she answered truthfully because what the fuck were Dec and Flynn talking about?
It made absolutely no sense.
Unable to focus on anything but what they had said, she tuned out the conversation. As she sipped on her champagne, she tried to figure out what they meant.
Were they saying Ruhn thought she had bad judgment? Of the four of them, they all knew hers was the best and Flynn's was undoubtedly the worst. There was no doubt about it. That couldn't be it.
Her boys had always been quite protective of her, as she was the only girl and they were â as Ruhn's sister, Bryce, liked to call them â alphaholes. But she hadn't done much dating in the last 75 years as none of the males she had gone out with held her interest for long, so she didn't think that was it either.
So what could they possibly have been talking about? Why wouldn't Ruhn think anyone was good enough for her?
It was sweet, sure, but she didn't want to spend the rest of her long life alone, and she was almost completely certain that imagining a future with Ruhn would get her nowhere. She had to move on from that.
If only her heart would listen.
"If you're still thinking about castrating that male, you don't have to worry about it."
(Y/N) looked up at Flynn as he stepped casually next to and smiled faintly, eyeing the blood flecks on his collar. "I know," she hummed and tilted her head onto his shoulder. "He hasn't come back yet, so I'm assuming he's out cold somewhere?"
Smiling smugly, Flynn said, "in the back fountain."
She couldn't help but grin. "Face up, I hope. Can't have you going to prison for murder."
"Do I look like an amateur?"
". . . do you really want me to answer that?"
"Shut up." Then he cleared his throat. "I am sorry, for making us late. For leaving you at the mercy of these dickholes. I should've had my things ready last night."
She didn't move her head from his shoulder. "It isn't your fault, Flynn. I justâ" she sighed. "I have to get this over with eventually. They'll never leave me alone if I don't find someone they approve of."
He knew she meant her parents. Of all her friends, he knew the most what it was like to have parents hounding you night and day to find a good partner to raise their social status.
"I'm assuming you're just gonna wing it and hope for the best?" He snorted, snaking an arm around her shoulders. She could feel someone watching them â she knew exactly who it was, knew exactly what it felt like to have his eyes on her â but she didn't turn to face him.
"What else would I do?"
She felt Flynn's silent laugh before he gently nudged her out of his grasp. Before she could move he leaned down to whisper in her ear, "I think someone wants your attention."
And then he was gone.
Her cheeks flushed red because she knew who he meant. (Y/N) took in a breath to steel herself, then turned to face Ruhn. He was in a conversation with Dec, who looked more than irritated at the lack of participation on Ruhns part because he was watching her.
Not knowing what else to do, she offered him a small smiled and took another sip from her champagne glass. At that, he reached over and patted Dec on the shoulder before stepping away and crossing the short distance over to her, leaving Dec with his mouth open mid sentence. Dec then threw his arms up in the air and went over to Flynn, who had erupted into a fit of silent laughter.
"Doing okay?" Ruhn asked the moment he was in front of her, his violet eyes twinkling in the firstlight.
She downed the rest of her champagne in one go. "Yup," she hummed.
Wincing, she moved all her weight onto one foot and rolled the opposite ankle in an attempt to get some blood flow back into her feet. Thanks to the stupid heels her mother had chosen, her feet were now utterly numb.
"That face says otherwise."
"Just my shoes," she grumbled. Then she paused. "Maybe if I hit that guy with my shoes enough one of 'em will stab him andâ"
Ruhn cut her off with a loud laugh that had people close to them looking for the source. When a group of girls attention landed on him they immediately started whispering amongst themselves, only to sneer when their gazes landed on her. She rolled her eyes at that. "You've got a vicious mind, (Y/N), I forget about that sometimes," he grinned.
She smiled cheekily back at him. "One of us has to be properly threatening." She rolled her lips inward for a moment. "Besides, who gets rid of all Flynn's psycho hookups?"
The number of girls she had physically removed from the frat house over the years was insurmountable. Flynn truly did have a type, and none of them would attempt to physically remove them because they were all, and she could quote, crazy bitches with scary nails.
Ruhn hummed and tugged her into his side, wrapping an arm around the shoulder as he surveyed the crowd. "That's true, I always forget about that." He looked down at her. "Hey, do you know what happened with Evangeline? I heard she got kicked out of her apartment."
Evangeline was Flynn's most recent conquest that had utterly lost it in his bedroom upon realizing she was a one night stand after he had spent a night sweet talking her into his bed. (Y/N) had been called and, because of her time working out with her boys, had simply hauled the screaming girl over her shoulder and ignored the fake nails that had clawed into her back before dropping her on the curb outside the main gate while Dec called her a cab.
When they had ensured she was going home and out of harms way, (Y/N) had spent the rest of the morning cackling at Flynn's expense. They all had.
The next morning, unfortunately, they had woken up to her at the main gate demanding to speak to Flynn. Again, they had called (Y/N) to have her leave. In the time it had taken her to get there, Evangeline had managed to take one of the bricks lining the outer garden and hurl it over the gate and at the windshield of Flynn's car, shattering it.
The moment (Y/N) had arrived and gotten out of her car, Evangeline was getting into her own and speeding away. Flynn's car had been in the shop for two days, leaving him to borrow one of the other two cars. She wasn't surprised to see that the whole thing had shaken him; he hadn't brought a girl home in almost two weeks.
To have impacted him that deeply, she knew he was definitely in shock over the whole ordeal, and (Y/N) didn't appreciate anyone messing with her friends.
(Y/N) held out her hand and casually studied the midnight blue varnish on her nails. "No, but I heard someone gave an anonymous complaint about her smoking mirthroot in her bathroom and since she was apparently renting it, the landlords weren't happy."
An amused smile on his face, Ruhn simply shook his head. âYouâre vindictive,â he chuckled.
She beamed up at him. âWhat can I say? I'll always protect my boys.â
He arched a brow. âYour boys?â
âMy boys,â she nodded in confirmation.
Something akin to contentment settled onto his face as he looked at her, then stuffed his hands into the pockets of his pants. He truly is beautiful, she thought to herself.
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and immediately winced at the pressure it put on that foot. She was never wearing these damned shoes ever again.
"We'll figure something out for the shoes," Ruhn told her softly, tugging his lip ring between his teeth in a way she knew was absentminded. It was always absentminded and yet it was one of the most attractive things he did. And he did it consistently.
"I'm not walking to your place in these fuckin' things," she muttered, wincing again as she moved her foot within the shoe.
"How do you know we didn't drive?"
She snorted. "Because Dec's had the least number of drinks out of us so far and he's already on number 3. None of you are that stupid."
He rolled his violet eyes. "TouchĂŠ."
Silence settled over them, (Y/N) taking the time to scan the crowd and make note of potential partners. She wasn't ready, not nearly, but she would have to be eventually so she might as well get started.
"Watcha thinkin' about?"
(Y/N) glanced over at Ruhn for a moment before looking down uncertainly. "What do you think I'm thinking about?"
His expression hardened. "I told you, you don't have to worry about it until you're ready, we aren't going to be late again."
She rubbed her temples, then sighed and managed to whisper out, "maybe . . . maybe having someone won't be so bad." But she wasn't sure who she was trying to convince.
When she glanced up, Ruhn had his eyes closed and his hands curled into loose fists. "So you â you want this? To find somebody? Now?"
"I don't know," (Y/N) groaned, lightly throwing he hands up in the air. "I just want them to stop hounding me, I want them to leave me alone and I won't get that unless I'm married."
Ruhn stayed silent.
The same pretty faun waitress from earlier passed them with a full tray of champagne glasses amongst a variety of other drinks. Ruhn silently handed her a wad of cash in exchange for the tray.
He seemed suddenly exhausted, which she was guessing for his decision to get drunk. Because of all his partying, Ruhn had an incredible tolerance for booze and that meant he had to consume an obscene amount in order to feel it at all. She knew it would be a long night if he was starting now.
She made eye contact with Dec and Flynn, and widened her eyes, discretely nodding in Ruhn's direction. She watched Dec glance over to him, and then immediately grimace. He smacked Flynn's arm, who matched the expression to a T, before the two males sauntered over and nudged Ruhn toward the exit.
"Let's get going," Dec muttered, wincing as Ruhn quickly downed the rest of the drinks before rising to his feet.
"Yeah, lets," (Y/N) mumbled.
Flynn turned to her. "You sure? Your parents will probably kill you for leaving this early."
That was true.
"Well," she breathed, "I may be moving in with you boys."
That made him grin. "I thought you'd never ask, sunshine."
"Yeah, yeah, hurry up and move before they see me."
For the entirety of the walk back to the frat house â there was nothing else accurate enough to call it â Ruhn and Declan walked a good distance behind them while Flynn carried her on his back.
She had her arms hooked around his neck as he held her up by her thighs, hardly even wincing at her weight. She was bare foot, carrying her shoes with one hand while the other gripped his shoulder as tightly as possible.
Flynn smelled earthy, like he always did. Summer rain and pine. She knew the majority of it was cologne; she had bought it for him, after all.
She could hear the other two whispering to themselves, quiet and far away enough to make them inaudible.
"What're they talking about?" (Y/N) frowned.
She honestly couldn't remember the last time something had been secret between the four of them, and she didn't like it.
Flynn shrugged without looking over his shoulder at her. "Probably Ruhn's secret need to get a tit job."
Ruhn yelled out a loud and irritated heard that as she snickered. "What do you think he should go for? Double D's?" She asked
Flynn shook his head. "Nah, C-cup. He'd bitch about back problems too much."
They were nearing the house now, so Flynn set her down on the ground. The moment her feet were on the pavement, she glared at her shoes and decided not to put them on.
"What do you know about back problems?" (Y/N) snorted with a roll of her eyes.
"I just know a lot about boobs, okay?" Flynn grumbled defensively. He quickly punched in the code on the gate, and it swung open for them.
With Ruhn and Dec still behind them, she dropped her shoes at the front door and sauntered into the kitchen after Flynn. "Seriously though, do you know what they're whispering about out there?"
He paused, clearly debating his answer. "Yes, but I can't tell you what it's about." She knew by the wording that he had landed on telling the truth.
He avoided looking at her by pulling the fridge door open and rummaging inside.
"Why can't you tell me?"
He tossed a container with some kind of take-out noodles inside onto the counter beside her. "Because I can't. Now shut up and eat."
"Shut up and eat," she mimicked, but reached for the container anyway. She was hungry, and probably a smidge tipsy, though not by much, so eating wasn't a bad idea.
She dumped the noodles into a bowl and put them in the microwave. By the time they were done, Dec and a very flushed-looking Ruhn came inside and went into the living room without another word.
(Y/N) watched them pass by the kitchen doorway and looked to Flynn with raised brows. He just shrugged and grabbed some kind of pasta dish in a white sauce to eat. She sighed.
It made no sense.
She had spoken about other males before around them, had talked about all her bad dates and the few good ones that ended after two or three months of attempting a relationship. They had all laughed and teased her â mercilessly â but never had they reacted like this.
After taking a seat at the small kitchen table, she dug into her food in silence. The only sound around her was the loud beeping of the microwave alerting them that Flynn's pasta was ready. He kept her company, leaning against the counter as they both ate.
Part of her hoped that the awkward silence would make him spill, but she should've known better. Flynn was shameless; the concept of awkward didn't really apply to him.
When she was done she put her dishes in the sink, rinsed them, and then let out a loud huff. "Whatever. I'm tired, tell Dec not to wake me up when he comes to bed."
"Good night," Flynn uttered with a mouthful of noodles.
"That's disgusting," (Y/N) muttered and with a roll of her eyes, exited the kitchen.
She went down the hall and crossed through the back of the living room, where she found Ruhn and Dec still whispering to each other. Ruhn held a bottle of whiskey that she was willing to bet hadn't been open that morning. It was already half empty.
Dec smiled sympathetically to her, but for whatever reason Ruhn couldn't look at her.
(Y/N) just nodded to them both before taking the stairs two at a time up to the second floor where she went down the hall to Dec's bedroom and closed the door behind her. She grabbed pyjamas out of his closet where she kept them for nights like this, quickly changed and curled up under the soft black comforter. She yanked it over her head and put the pillow on top of that so she was completely separated from the world and alone in her own little bubble.
It was just what she wanted.
She wasn't sure how long she laid there, staring into the blackness with utter nothingness on her mind before she fell asleep.
A loud thud had her sitting up before her eyes had opened.
She felt the presence of another body beside her as Dec jolted up as well, hastily rubbing the sleep from his eyes. They shared a look in the darkness, furrowing their brows in usion as another series of thumps sounded from the other side of the door.
What the fuck? (Y/N) mouthed.
I don't know, Dec mouthed back.
They heard faint grumblings from outside and it was then that she realized it was Ruhn; apparently a very drunk Ruhn. She could recognize his voice anywhere.
Dec rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms again, then widened them in an attempt to wake up more.
As he did that, (Y/N) rose to her feet â cringing at the coolness of the floor against her bare feet â and pulled the door open.
Ruhn was on the floor still, his back against the wall opposite to her. His inky hair, normally very well managed, was knotted and ruffled as if he had been repeatedly running his hands through it. He was still in what he had been wearing early, only his tux jacket had been abandoned and the sleeves of his button up were rolled up, showing off those god damn forearmsâ
(Y/N) met his gaze and fought the urge to laugh as he pouted up at her. Pouted.
How much whiskey had Dec let him have?
Through a series of mumbles, she managed to make out him saying, "you didn't say goodnight."
She paused. "You wouldn't even look at me, Ruhn," she said as gently as she could. Why is he worried about this?
"I thought you were mad at me."
There it is.
"I'm not mad at you, honey, I'm just confused."
"Good," he murmured, slurring his words a little good. Ruhn rose onto shaky legs and took a wobbly step toward her. "I don't want you to be confused on what feelings I haveâ" a sharp breath where for a moment, he looked almost sober "âwhat my feelings for you are."
At that, Dec was on his feet trying to usher Ruhn out of the room. "Now isn't the time, buddy," he was murmuring. "You can talk to her in the morning?"
But Ruhn wasn't having it.
He stumbled out of Dec's grasp and grabbed one of her hands, tugging her toward him as he teetered backward slightly. "I love you."
The words came out loudly, strung together in a clear, perfect sentence. His tone almost sounded proud. He nodded slowly to himself while Dec stood next to him, eyes closed and cringing.
"I love you too," (Y/N) said slowly, though it pained her.
She knew Ruhn loved her, just as he loved Dec and Flynn. They were each other's family, and they all loved each other because of it. They told each other quite casually all the time. Why did he need to get himself drunk to tell her that?
Ruhn shook his head. "No, no," he mumbled taking her free hand into his own so he could look at her, face to face. "I love you."
As she blinked, from the corner of her eye she could see Dec wipe a hand down the side of his face while the other was folded over his chest. He was grimacing at the whole thing, as if he thought it were a disaster.
(Y/N) could only stare at him, her brows furrowing. This has to be some sick kind of joke. "I know you do, what are you saying right now, Ruhn?"
He let out an almost bitter laugh. "I don't love you the same way I love Dec and Flynn." Well that hurt. "I love you like â like the way I love sinking a perfect shot in beer pong." What the fuck? He wasn't really making any sense. "Being with you, (Y/N), it's like sitting on the couch and listening to rain fall outside. It's peaceful, and it's perfect."
Her heart hammered in her chest, but she couldn't find the words she wanted to. It didn't matter, because Ruhn kept going.
"I love you like Bryce loves Hunt, like â like Dec loves Marc, like Flynn loves his hair." She couldn't help but snort at that. "(Y/N), I love you like I don't want you to look for someone else." He inhaled a sharp breath, squeezing her hands in his. "I love you like I don't want you to look for someone else, I want you to look for me."
She knew Dec was watching her closely, she could feel his eyes on her. But she didn't know what to say. Truly, for the first time in a long time, her mind was completely blank.
This was exactly the hopes she had been squashing for probably over a decade now. What she had never let herself dream of because she never believed it was real.
She didn't know what to say. "How about," she stammered, then steeled herself. This was Ruhn, albeit drunk. She wouldn't sugarcoat what she wanted to say to him. "How about we figure this out in the morning because I don't think you're going to remember this when you wake up. When you leave your room, you have two choices. The first one, is we can pretend we never had this conversation and go on as usual." Even if it killed her, she would keep that promise. "The second thing is . . . we can sit down. Talk about it. And we can . . . maybe we can figure things out."
Ruhn went quiet at that.
In the few moments that followed, Dec was able to wrestle him out of the room and down the hallway to his own, where they disappeared inside. She could only stand in the doorway and stare at the place Ruhn had been looking at her from. She blinked.
Dec appeared out of Ruhn's room looking utterly exhausted. "So uh, I'll give you the room tonight," he murmured, offering her a small smile. "I'll just be in his room to make sure he doesn't . . . uh . . . come in here again . . . yeah. . . "
