How to be rebellious, Tristan Flynn's guide for dummies
Ruhn Danaan week 2024
@ruhnweek @cadiawrites
Day 2: Crowned Prince
Ruhn Danaan x Reader
Sumarry: "First rule of being a prince: Rebel when you can!" Tristan Flynn's steps to turn Ruhn into a rebel.
A/N: Being rebellious is unnecessary. Do not listen to Tristan Flynn. Don't repeat Ruhn Danaan's mistake of taking Flynn's tips. Or do... At your own risks.
Warnings: Lots of warnings. Smoking, drinking, tattoos, needles, sex, mention of a threesome in a pantry... yeah. That's pretty it I think.
First step: Feel like a rebel.
“First rule of being a prince: rebel when you can!” Tristan Flynn stated, leaned in the bathroom door frame. Ruhn sighed, and looked away from him, keeping his eyes fixed on the wall in front of him to focus on trying to empty his bladder. “And how, exactly, is pissing with the bathroom door open supposed to feel rebellious?” Declan chuckled from behind Flynn, at least he had the decency to give his friend some privacy by waiting in the hallway. “Alright- just shut up! You’re distracting me.” Ruhn mumbled, teeth gritting and cheeks reddening from the alcohol they had inhibited earlier that night watching sunball.
That and from the embarrassing situation he threw himself in.
The newly crowned prince had made the calamitous mistake of confessing to his friend that never in his life had he dared deliberately confronting his father. Which had made Dec give him a comforting pat on his shoulder, but Flynn had nearly choked on his beer, staring goggled-eyed at Ruhn. Which had led him to make it his mission to teach Ruhn how to be, how to feel, and how to act rebellious. Because in Flynn's humble opinion as a noble himself, a Lord, to be precise, it was a fucking necessity to misbehave from time to time. Daily, in his case.
Ruhn sighed as the pressure of his lower abdomen slacked, and he evacuated in the toilet. The door wide open in his own house. Declan chuckled, and smugly said, “Good job, man,” Flynn still stared at him while the black haired Fae zipped up his pants, flushing the toilet before heading to the sink. Flynn walked closer to where Ruhn was, “Soooo? How does it feel?” He mused, and Ruhn rolled his eyes. “Dangerously rebellious.” He said under his breath.
But Flynn didn't seem to pick up on the Crowned Prince of the Valbaran Fae's sarcasm. “See? Told you so. Now you're ready for the next step.” He continued. This time, Declan walked into the bathroom too, exchanging a worried glance with Ruhn before asking the lordling carefully, “What next step, Flynn.”
—
Second step: Look like a rebel!
“That's a waste of money,” Ruhn tried to resonate with his friend. And himself. Because if he was being honest, getting a tattoo, or tattoos, was expensive. And those needles didn't look soft.
“Chicken.” Declan muttered under his breath, but loud enough so that the princelling would hear it.
“You're not even getting one!” Ruhn scoffed, his alphahole ego slightly bruised. Declan laughed, and said, “No, I'm not. Because I have the balls to tell Flynn no.” Flynn gasped and punched his friend on the shoulder. “You say this as if I'm forcing him!” He put his hands on his chest, as if Declan’s accusation had stabbed him in the heart.
“Are you not?” Declan smirked before getting back into his car, ready to leave those two dickheads at their appointment before picking them back up later. He just hoped he wouldn't have to bring back two wailing Fae males back home.
“No! I just… convinced him.” Flynn rolled his eyes as if he was stating the obvious.
“By telling him the tattooer had nice boobs?” Declan leaned over the opened window of his car, a knowing grin spreading on his lips as Flynn flipped him off. He dragged a red faced Ruhn towards the tattoo shop. “It's been nice to be your fucking chauffeur!” Declan yelled as he rolled back up the window of his car, before speeding down the street.
The bell rang as they entered the shop, and Ruhn gulped at the sight of the curved lioness shifter standing at the front desk, checking on the computer for their appointment.
“I'm sure you'll eat those for lunch man,” Flynn gestured with his chin to the massive pair of tits of the lioness shifter. She chuckled, hiding her annoyance, then started to tattoo Flynn first, since he had insisted that he and Ruhn got at least one matching tattoo. The lioness shifter greatly punished Flynn’s obscene comments by being not so gentle while she tattooed him, the needle hurting more than usual.
Ruhn gulped.
Ruhn would definitely not have those delicious looking round breasts for lunch.
And he received his punishment too, for his friend poor, so stupidly poor way of flirting with women.
—
Third and final step: Act like a rebel!
“This is going to end very badly,” Ruhn said, his eyes taking in the sight of their messed up place. People and red plastic cups were scattered all over the kitchen and living room. The floors, even the walls were sticky from the alcohol or whatever substance Ruhn didn't even want to think about. He was also pretty damn sure that Declan had broken his bed frame upstairs with his new boyfriend. Mark, Declan had said his name was. Or was it Max? Mike? Honestly, Ruhn’s brain was too fucked up to recall anything about that conversation. Only that Declan and Mark had smelled like mirthroot, alcohol, and arousal, which had distracted Ruhn to register whatever Dec was saying to him.
He just hoped it wasn't important.
“Why would it end badly?” Flynn raised his eyebrow at Ruhn. He gave the girl that was currently straddling his laps and eating his neck a small slap on the ass before rolling her off him, promising her with a charming smile to get back to her later. Once the female walked away, he scooted over Ruhn’s side of the couch, placing an arm around his shoulder. “This is your house, you do what the hell you want!”
Ruhn huffed at how ridiculous Flynn’s slurred voice sounds when he’s high and drunk. “Yeah, but technically it's my father’s house. He pays for it.” Everything his father paid for, he could take away from him, Ruhn thought. Before the culpability started to gnaw at him, Flynn raised his voice over the music. “So what, just enjoy the party and the pretty ladies, Little Prince!” He poked Ruhn's cheek, and the sound of furniture shattering from Declan's bedroom resonated right above them. “See? Even Dec is having fun. Just enjoy the party, and the pretty ladies, while you're at it! Come on, let it all out, little prince!”
Rhun’s head pivoted in his direction, he bared his teeth out and looked around to make sure no one had heard that stupid friend of his call him that. Ruhn’s formal title was probably not a secret to anyone here, but Flynn didn’t have to shout it from the rooftops. “Don’t call me that.”
“Oh, my apologies, your Royal high-mess.”
“Don’t call me that either.” Ruhn snarled his answer. Flynn only shrugged, watching Ruhn blabbering angry nonsense as he almost stumbled off the couch. As soon as Ruhn wiggled out of his seat to head towards where his stomach was calling him, the female that had been sprawled over Flynn all night settled back in her spot. The newly crowned prince weaved through the mass of partying people, every accidental touch against his body feeled like the most delectable caress, and the bright colored decorative neons all around the rooms made it feel as if he had been transported on another planet. A planet where everything felt, smelled, and tasted erratic, delightful. It was fucking sick, and godsdamned awesome.
He managed to reach his destination: the kitchen. His body felt like it was floating, and yet those doors seemed so heavy to pull. He tugged again on the walk-in pantry doors, and what waited for him inside looked a million times tastier than the waffles he had planned to devour. The set of females that were currently making out inside the pantry stared at him, stunned at first, then the three of them just bursted out laughing. “Join us?” The doe shifter asked, looking at the blond female pinned against her for her approval. The second female agreed, and both of them stared at Ruhn, waiting for his answer. They smelled good. The pantry smelled like sex, female hormones, and mixed food odors. That only made Ruhn hungrier.
Those waffles could wait, though.
“Fuck yeah.” He drawled.
Right now, he felt like he truly was a fucking rebel. Fuck his title, fuck his dad, and he’d most certainly fuck these two females. He planned on worshiping them like the goddesses they were.
