#Liam mairi

[mysterylilycheeta]

Liam: We'll find another route, it's not safe for amateurs. Violet: That sounds like a challenge. Liam: I have to stress, that is not a challenge. Violet: ... Is exactly what you say to dissuade the weak of heart from accepting the challenge. Well! Challenge accepted! Liam: There. Is. No. Challenge

[mysterylilycheeta]

My lovely boy

Liam Mairi 💛💛💛

I miss my sunshine boy 🥲

[helenaschmalz]

Violet and Liam’s letters

[stupidlybookish]

Ridoc: The floor is lava!

Liam: *helps Sloane onto the table*

Mira: *pushes Brennan off the sofa*

Garrick: As you can see, there are two types of siblings.

[happyinternetcollector]

Xaden: ugh I need to feel something, Liam can you tell me something that will piss me of

Liam: Aetos kissed Violet before you

Xaden: yup that'll do it

[highladyofterrasen7]

Xaden: guys I need your help

Liam: with what

Xaden: I need to move a new amiore into sorrengail’s room

Garrick: why does sorrengail need a new amiore

Xaden: no… reason…

Bodhi: you fucked her didn’t you

Xaden: maybe

[somewhere-in-the-rain]

I love how petty Xaden is. He has multiple staring contests with people in the new bonus chapter, and literally just spends most of the briefing glaring at Dain across the table.

It’s the “I win” when Dain looks away for me, tbh.

Not to mention sitting in between Violet and Liam because, and I quote, “he can back the fuck up when I’m around”. Xaden, Liam has given you absolutely no reason to think he’s even interested in Violet, you can CHILL.

[ervotica]

𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠

request; Hello I was wondering if you could do a Liam Mairi x reader where involving the side-effects of having bonded mated dragons pair so they absolutely go feral with eachother while using the prompt "That's it, fuck, that's a good girl."

synopsis; you and liam discover the trouble with mated dragons when you wind up in his bed. hidden feelings threaten to come to light.

pairing; liam mairi x fem!reader

warnings; smut (18+ only), p in v, soft sex w feels

word count; 2.6k

Reaching out blindly until your hand snags against the soft fabric of Liam’s sleep shirt, you take a shuddering breath as a surge of arousal locks you on the spot, every muscle coiling tight when you press your forehead to the wall and tug him closer. His thighs are bare and they flex when he stumbles towards you, bracing himself by means of a hand either side of your head, corded biceps caging you in when a ragged pant rips through you and you grit your teeth.

“Easy,” he murmurs, though his voice is strained, the veins that wrap the lengths of his forearms like vines protruding from the creamy skin. You suppress a pathetic little noise that bubbles from the base of your throat, tipping your head back as Liam’s hand makes contact with the skin there. “Shh, shh.”

“Li-“ you whisper through gritted teeth. “I need you to tell me to go away. I can’t- can’t control myself.”

“No-“ he says, quickly – too quickly, desperation lining his every syllable. You’re all too familiar with the feeling, the panic that seeps into his voice at the prospect of you leaving in search of another man’s bed. He’s not too proud to beg you. “No. Stay, please.”

The thought of you leaving is near unbearable now he’s close enough to touch you — feel you. Close enough to smell the shampoo in the wisps of hair that fall around your flushed face, close enough that the scent of you cloys in his nostrils and throws all inhibitions out the window.

His body presses against yours and the contact sets every nerve ending you possess alight. You tremble when he glides steady fingers - much steadier than you’re feeling right now - over your half-bare shoulder where your t-shirt has slipped downward, coming to a halt over your skittering pulse. His head falls forward into the juncture of your neck.

“Fuck.” His voice is rasping, barely there in your ears as Deigh does something Áine particularly likes and a crusade of need slams through him.

You thread your fingers through the blond tresses that tickle at your skin, pointedly ignoring the obvious disparity of your bodies, how his dwarfs your own, the way it makes your head spin with the need to get closer, to claw your way into his skin and feel every inch of him.

“Liam,” you whine softly, arching into him as those thick arms twine around your waist, pulling your torso flush to his own. He squeezes you, hands slipping beneath the t-shirt you’re clad in, palming and groping at every bump and ridge, every hill and valley of flesh he can reach. He ventures lower; your fingers tense where they still lay in his soft hair, and when his palms flatten and tap firmly at the backs of your thighs, you know what he wants.

You oblige the clear instruction, pushing yourself up from the balls of your feet until you’re in Liam’s arms, legs looped around his waist and ankles crossed at the base of his spine. Your back hits the wall as he surges forward to nose at your jugular. His lips part, tongue flicking forward to lave at your balmy skin. As his head dips, trailing a hot, wet path of half moons in the wake of his lips, you shudder.

“I know, my girl. I know,” he coos, sympathetic. His words slur and jumble, each sound melting into the next as though he’s drunk from the feel - the taste - of you alone.

The pet name would be enough to have you melting with affection under usual circumstances— now, it’s enough to have you whining, craning your head to slant your lips hungrily over his own, uncaring if it’s messy or filthy or downright sinful. Your only mission is to feel him, to get closer, to roam every inch of him with your ravenous tongue and teeth and lips— greedy for his touch.

If anyone were to walk in they’d certainly blanch at the sight; you pinned against the wall closest to the door of Liam’s room, his eager fingers splayed over your ass as you breathe into each other’s mouths. You’re unconsciously grinding down into him in quick, fervent bursts, and he reciprocates the movement appreciatively, letting you slide down the cold wall until the thick length of him presses to your wet cunt— hindered only by the fabric of his boxers and the lace of your panties.

The material is almost translucent, soaked through with your arousal. Liam coos something sympathetic that you can’t quite decipher for the fog that clouds your every nerve ending, for the hand that slips between your bodies until his thumb is rubbing tight circles into your swollen clit through the ruined fabric. Tears burn at the backs of your eyes and you tremble round him, the pleasure everything you need and somehow nowhere near enough, all at once.

“Shh, shh,” he murmurs. “‘ve got you, angel. ‘S okay.”

You gasp wetly against his kiss-bitten lips, the only warning you give as you begin shuddering against him, your climax ripping through you before you even have time to think. Everything is so sensitive, every brush and graze of his skin against your own amplified tenfold— it’s too much but still, you greedily accept everything he’s willing to give you, teary eyes trained to his throat that works around a swallow as he watches you cum with heavy lidded eyes. Babbling around a sob, you part your lips from his in favour of sinking down into the juncture of his neck, your hot cheeks searing against the cooler skin that greets you like a soothing balm.

“That’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”

“Liam,” you hiccup, grabbing large fistfuls of his t-shirt, the flimsy material the only thing that separates you from miles of toned skin and muscle. That lopsided grin cracks across his face, a dimple cratering onto the centre of his cheek as his teeth flash in an amused smile; his chest heaves, even more so when you slip your hands underneath his tee to palm at bare skin.

Setting you down on shaking legs, his hand encircles one of your wrists and tugs, leading you until you’re perched at the edge of the bed. He turns, elbows flaring wide as he pulls at the neckline of his shirt and drags the material over his head in one fluid motion. The planes of his back are bared to you, each individual muscle rolling and moving with one another as though they’re cogs in a well oiled machine. You want your mouth on every inch of that skin– no corner, no crevice left untouched.

And then he’s on you, prowling with a predatory glint in those cerulean eyes as his pupils swallow the bright hue of his irises; all he sees is you– the way you shrink and tremble at the fervent way he surveys you.

A wide palm slips beneath your own tee and curls around your ribcage, frantically rising and falling with every laboured breath. He shucks the fabric upward to expose your soft breasts to the cool air of the room, and watches with rapt fascination as your nipples harden into peaks under his attention.

You shift until you’re propped up on your elbows to allow him space to discard the item of clothing, complying when he nudges you until you’re flat against the mattress, legs hooked over his hips. Your head turns, face burning at the wolfish way his eyes rake over you, a great contrast to the flattened hands that scrub sweeping lines over the tops of your thighs to soothe your nerves.

“Don’t hide from me, angel,” he murmurs, folding at the waist to smear a kiss against the curve of your jaw. His next words are a rumble against your skin that seep into your pores, into your very bones. “If it gets too much for you, all you have to do is tell me. And we’ll stop. Okay?”

His cadence is low and rasping, and the feel of the bridge of his nose pressed to your cheek sending a wave of affection through you that knocks the breath from your lungs. You nod.

“Words, sweet girl.”

“Okay,” you croak.

“Good girl.”

Your pussy aches with a sharp throb when he reaches down to press his thumb back to your swollen bundle of nerves; you whine, hips canting up into his touch unconsciously as he slips the wet material down your legs and discards them somewhere behind him.

He presses a kiss to your tummy, your knee, your ankle, and then pushes your legs up and back until they’re folded atop your chest. You gasp when his warm breath fans over your bare sex.

“Liam.”

“I know, angel,” he grunts. His voice patters out into breathless silence as you part your thighs, splaying a hand across his thrumming pulse to wrench him upwards and towards you. He doesn’t resist, putty in your hands. Absolutely, wholly yours.

“Please,” you whisper; his nose brushes yours. “Need you.”

He parts your lips with his own, slaking his hunger on you. He revels in every noise he pulls from your slick lips, every whine and gasp and plead for him to give you what you want. He swallows them all greedily and when - and only when - he’s decided you’ve begged him prettily enough, does he free his weeping cock and line up with your entrance.

He sinks in slowly, every thick inch of him splitting you wider than the previous. He’s thick, cock twitching against your cunt as the flushed head practically begs to be buried inside of you. The colour bleeds from your knuckles as you clutch his biceps, leaving crescent moon indents in the wake of your cruel touch; he hisses, and when he’s fully sheathed inside of you, he sweeps down again to press wet, ardent kisses to your face and neck. He hooks your legs up against his hips, pulling back to rock back into the tight clutch of your cunt with slow, rhythmic movements.

He hits every spot inside of you without trying, the spongy head of him rubbing continuously over a particular spot you haven’t discovered yet; it has you keening, sobbing out a broken moan against his balmy cheek as he coos gentle praises against the shell of your ear.

His entire focus is fixated on him desperately trying to not blow his load at the first feel of your cunt clasping him, breathing deeply through his nostrils as he props a forearm either side of your head.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he gasps, picking up his pace as your enthusiasm starts to peak, your shaking fingers tangling in the short hairs at the nape of his neck. Your body arches beneath him, head tipping back when a soft whine spills from your swollen lips.

The lewd sound of slapping skin and heavy breathing encases your senses, drives you further to that edge that you’ve been aching for since you entered the room.

He’s so beautiful like this it sets you alight with adoration— and arousal: blond hair mussed and falling over his eyes, face flushed as he dips down to brush his nose with your own, plush, pink lips parted into a gasp when you clench around him.

“‘M so close, Li,” you croak, tightening your fingers where they’re carding through his hair.

“I know, angel. I know.” Deft fingers slide between your bodies as he works over your clit rhythmically— sweeping movements that alternate between tight circles and up and down motions as he places pressure on that bundle of nerves.

A sweet, quiet little gasp spills from your lips, and Liam doesn’t miss the way you tense, clinging to him harder as you shatter.

He coaxes you through it, movements never slowing as you ride out your peak, whining against his lips when he swallows your sounds with his mouth.

He doesn’t stop until you’re squirming and writhing beneath him, kicking your legs feebly to push him away; he shudders at the movement, back bowing in the centre until he’s spilling into you with a groan. He braces himself with his head buried in the juncture of your neck, arms hooking around the base of your spine to hold you flush to him.

You both collapse in a haphazard mound of limbs and you roll onto your side to face Liam, his cheek still pressed to yours. He brushes the bridge of his nose along the length of your cheekbone, his smile imprinted into your skin as you hum and needle your way closer into his chest.

You don’t know what to say— neither does he. This silence is comfortable regardless, the gentle, lulling energy encasing the pair of you in this bubble.

He brushes a stray lock of hair from your sticky forehead, smearing a kiss along the crown of your skull. Your lashes flutter, body soft and lax against his own as you greedily seep up his warmth. You’re weightless, your head pleasantly blank when he pulls the blankets over you, pressing a final kiss to your cheek before he’s pushing himself out of the bed and to the bathroom.

There’s some shuffling and then emerges seconds later, clad in a clean pair of boxers and clutching a t-shirt for you to take. You’re still how he left you, laying on your side and dozing, cheek smushed against the back of your hand.

“C’mon, angel,” he murmurs, hooking an arm beneath your shoulder to hike you upright, handing you the tee; you rub at your heavy eyes with the backs of your fingers, swiping the fog away. He settles himself between your legs to clean you up, swiping a tissue between your thighs.

“You don’t have to do that, Li,” you croak. “‘M okay, I’ve got it.”

You make to loop your fingers around his wrist to halt his movements, but he only tuts and swats your hand away with a smile. Affection rises in your chest, hot and fast and blinding.

“I’ve got you, my girl.”

There’s that name again. My girl. You’re melting, sure you’re nothing but a pile of mush following those two little words; he surveys you with those cerulean eyes, laced with nothing less than adoration.

“Liam,” you whine, protesting.

“Oh, hush.” He presses a kiss to the curve of your kneecap before pushing the blankets back over your legs.

You pull the oversized tee he’s pushed into your hands over your head appreciatively, resisting the urge to bury your face into the fabric and inhale at the scent of him that cloys the room, that swirls around your face in tantalising tendrils.

You love him, you realise. The admission isn’t terrifying as you thought it would be, but rather a calm wave that washes over you and grants you a newfound clarity. You want this all the time with him. You want everything.

The bed dips as he returns to your side, an arm around your waist until you’re both propped against the headboard, your face resting in the dip of his collarbone. You feel his cheek pressed to the top of your head.

Your chest feels as though it might cave in at any moment, the sheer volume of love you hold for this boy too much for your body to hold onto. You brush your lips against his shoulder, blinking slowly in your haze. The rumble of his laugh carries right down to your bones.

“You’re beautiful,” you mumble, already half-asleep.

“You’re more beautiful,” he whispers back as though it’s a secret. Private words shared between the pair of you, for no one else to hear.

You’re asleep before you can respond, draped lazily over his torso. He shucks the blankets up until they’re covering you right up to your shoulders. Your nose scrunches unconsciously.

Fuck, he loves you.

[lighthousepigeons]

Tairn: I spy with my little eye, someone who needs to shut the fuck up.

Violet: Is it Dain?

Tairn: It's always Dain.

[mattyalwayssmokesweed]

The fact that Violet got fucked (literally), betrayed by her boyfriend, heartbroken over losing her friend, betrayed by her dragons, hurt AND poisoned all in the same day is wild. You guys complain she’s “annoying” but I think she’s not half as annoying as she could have been. Matter of fact she should’ve set Riorson House on fire as soon as she woke up and saw HER BROTHER was fucking alive. She took it too well all things considered

[mooncrvmbs]

so you mean to tell me that one of my favorite fucking character in the book died and dain aetos is still alive and breathing?????

[mysterylilycheeta]

Rhiannon: Don't you just hate men sometimes? They can be so useless! Imogen: Right? They're terrible! Jesinia: *signs* 100% Violet: Definitely. Xaden, Garrick, Bodhi, Ridoc, Sawyer, and Dain: Liam: Violet: Not you Liam, you're perfect! The other girls: Honestly, he is! The boys: Wh-

[scorpioriesling]

Tight Black Leathers

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Liam x reader

Warnings: SMUT, mdni, 18+

Summary: As Liam's girlfriend, you've been feeling rather... fed up, lately, that he's been ordered to hang out all day with another female. So... whatever will you do about it?

SR’s Note: Ooh, switching it up with a Fourth Wing fic? Okay, okay... and yes of course, Liam is my favorite character from Fourth Wing. No, I still haven't recovered. No, I probably never will. Denial is a river in Egypt-

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

You clicked the power button on your phone once more, checking fruitlessly to see if your boyfriend had responded to your message. Of course, he hadn't -- but you'd expected as much. It was Friday, which meant he was on Violet-duty today, per usual.

With a sigh, you tucked the device into your pocket, zipping it shut as a familiar voice approached behind you.

"Hey Y/N!" Rhiannon's usual bubbly tone made you smile, and she took in your state. Her face softened as she took you in a warm embrace. You appreciated the kindness she offered you -- her friendship was a priceless one you'd made after crossing the parapet. She was one of the only people, other than your boyfriend, who truly understood how hard it was to be a rider when you were meant your whole life to be a healer instead.

"Still haven't heard from him?" She asks softly, releasing you. You shake your head, and she loops her arm through yours, pulling you with her in a cadence down the dormitory hallway.

"Well, there's no point in waiting around doing nothing," she starts. "We may as well have some lunch, hmm?" As if on cue, your stomach gurgles, and you both chuckle at the sound. You truly couldn't be more grateful -- you hadn't eaten all morning.

Entering the cafeteria, you find your squad -- well, most of them. Imogene's unmissable pink hair shakes back and forth as she listens to a ridiculous story Ridoc recounts; Sawyer is laughing at something Bodhi is saying across the table. You can't help but wonder...

"Hey guys!" Ridoc greets Rhiannon and you with a smile, but you only continue to search the tables near you. Imogene folds her arms over her chest, sitting back in her chair.

"He's not here," she says, and you look to her. Rhiannon takes a seat, motioning for you to sit by her, but you only stare at Imogene in hopes she'll keep talking. "Violet took the lunch break to get in extra training time, so-"

You squeeze your eyes shut, head dropping to face the floor. You'd been missing him so much recently, since Xaden assigned him to follow your fellow cadet around like a guardian, you barely saw him anymore. Your own boyfriend. He was spending time with another female. That was really starting to get old.

"Of course." You clip. Ridoc huffs a laugh, and Rhiannon glares at him.

"He's only doing what Xaden tells him-" Bodhi begins, and your eyes slide to his.

"Anymore, I don't really care what Xaden-" Your rage begins to bubble over, and the table falls silent as their gazes drift behind you. Shadows curl around your fists, the cool tendrils working against your warmed skin.

"Care what Xaden... what, exactly? As your Wingleader, I would love to hear you finish that sentence, Y/N." Xaden's lethally calm voice sounds from behind you, and you glance over your shoulder, face falling at the realization. You shake your head.

"I... it's... look, I just think it's a bit much to have Liam following Violet around all day, don't you think? Can't she defend herself?" You ask. His hard gaze on you only intensifies.

"I would say Liam is one of the strongest in this wing, wouldn't you agree?" He asks, and you nod.

"Yes, but-"

"So he will continue to defend what's most precious to me." He says in finality, turning to walk away as you scoff, throwing your hands in the air.

"What about what's most precious to me, huh? I never get to see him anymore because you're always having him whisked away to defend your girlfriend -- isn't that your job!?" You nearly shout. The entire room goes silent, and Bodhi slaps a hand over his mouth. Rhiannon's jaw is practically on the floor, but your eyes are only met with Xaden's searing gaze as he turns to face you once more. He steps close to you, speaking again in his constrained, calm voice.

"I highly suggest you take the rest of the afternoon off, cadet y/l/n. You seem a bit high strung -- wouldn't want you too worked up for the challenges later this evening." The muscle in his jaw ticks as you turn on your heel, beelining for the exit and stomping all the way back to your dorm room.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You know what? Xaden was right. The afternoon off was exactly what you needed before a night full of challenges. You spent the whole afternoon getting yourself more riled up within the confines of your dorm, pacing back and forth and glaring into your mirror. Did you nap? Nope. Try to calm down, do some meditation, maybe? Absolutely not. Perhaps stretch, or read a book so you were at ease before the night began then. Hell no.

You were ripping a brush through your long hair, slamming it down on your desk when you decided the strands were untangled enough. You yanked at the band around your wrist, muscle memory causing your hands to wind your hair into a ponytail atop your head when you catch sight of yourself in the mirror. You glance down at your phone still dark on your desk, and an idea sparks in your mind. Dropping your hands, you run them through the strands a few times before separating the mass into three sections. Since he likes the Sorrengail so damn bad, you thought. Maybe you'd show him you she wasn't anything special. She was just like everyone else here; she was just like you.

Securing the band at the base of the tight braid, you sway side to side, pleased with the result. Pulling on your tightest-fitting leathers and boots, you sheath your finest daggers and head out of your room. Within minutes, you've crossed the courtyard and are in the training center, approaching a mat near the center where you find Ridoc and Bodhi and Rhiannon gathered. Rhiannon turns when Ridoc whistles loudly at you. You lighten your steps on instinct, realizing you're still stomping your way across the mats toward them.

"Ohhhh my, Y/N," she looks you up and down, taking you in fully. You huff a breath, pretending not to notice her stare. Or Ridoc's. Or Bodhi's. Or Violet's...

Or Liam's. From three mats over.

"New tactic?" Ridoc laughs, and you roll your eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Uhhh, distracting your opponent with the tightest black fighting leathers you could find?" Rhiannon giggles, and you scoff, feigning innocence. Bodhi only groans.

"CADETS, attention please!" Emmetario shouts. He stalks closer to the mat you stand before, calling off more pairs for challenges. You and your friends watch as people fight and wrestle match after match. Rhiannon wins her challenge, Ridoc hands Jack Barlowe's ass to him, and your attention snags on the mat a few feet away as a new pairing is called forth. Your perfect, wonderful boyfriend is taking the mat, shucking off his tee and revealing his perfectly toned body, abdominals flexing as he laughs at something Xaden says. He takes a fighting stance as another guy from third wing stands opposite him, and they begin. It's not long before Liam has the poor fella on the floor, tapping out. Being the kind male he is, Liam hops off and helps him up, shaking his hand and offering him a kind smile after they finish their challenge.

As he is exiting the mat, his eyes meet yours and widen slightly, raking over your body as he slowly steps off the platform. They linger on the straps clinging to the curve of your ass, then trail back up to the form-fitting compression shirt you've chosen and his brows knit in confusion when he notices your new hairstyle. You tilt your chin up and flip your hair over your shoulder, just as Emmetario bellows once more.

"Bodhi and Y/N!"

You walk onto the mat, Rhiannon cheering from the sidelines. Bodhi looks to you in silent apology, and you position yourself close to your friend, taking your beginning stance. You can see the worry in his expression, and you glance to your left as Liam, Violet, and Xaden flank the edge of the mat to observe as well.

"Bodhi, it's alright. I know you won't hurt me for real," You say. He grins at you.

"Never." Is all he says, taking his beginning position, not-so-subtly drinking in your form so close to his. You smirk.

"Begin!" Emmetario calls. Bodhi immediately lunges for you, but you're quick and dodge his advance, and he stumbles forward -- you've trained with him countless times, you knew he'd make the first move. You snake to the side, wrapping your arms around his midsection and using your whole body weight to throw yourselves both to the ground. You cry out as you land on your own elbow, and he tries to roll you onto your back. You dig your heels into the ground, fighting with all your strength to stay to the side of him and not let him get on top. He's stronger though, flipping you with his hands around your knees. You plant both feet in his ribs, knocking into him with as much force as you can muster and he falls back with a sharp cry.

The growing crowd winces and you jump to your feet once more, him following suit and clutching his side only for a moment before charging you once more. You crouch; but you're too slow this time. In seconds, his hands wrap around your waist and your thrown over his shoulder, hands smacking against his back.

You know what comes next -- this is the part where your opponent will throw you onto the mat, onto your back, knocking the wind out of you. You won't let that happen; not tonight. You tap into the rage you felt, all day, all week, and unleash it, feeling every feeling all over again.

Anger. You push against Bodhi, his hands losing grip and you tumbling haphazardly down his back. "Keep pushing, Y/N!" Rhiannon shouts.

Hate. You turn, Bodhi's still doubled over. Now's your chance. You run, jump, cling onto him, grabbing his neck and wrapping your legs around his waist-

Jealousy. It was a ploy. He whips you around, throwing you to the mat, hard. You shriek, breath catching in your throat as he holds you down with his forearm. He gazes down at you, his familiar friendly orbs glowing with warmth as he shifts uncomfortably above you.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Y/N, but... I'll be damned if anyone ever climbs me like a fuckin' tree-" the words die in his throat as your red-hot emotions dissipate, laughter rising and breaking free past your lips as he chuckles along with you.

"I don't care! I said she's done!" The sharp tone has your gaze turning to the left, the crowd making way as Emmetario calls after the tall male entering the mat and heading straight for you. In seconds, Bodhi's weight is completely lifted off of you and you suck in a breath of full, delightful air.

"Yep, and you can stay the fuck off of her, thank you very much," Liam gripes, bending down to grasp both of your hands in his and pull you up. You gasp as pain blooms in your back, and he begins leading you off the mat, away from the crowd. Toward the exit.

"Liam... Liam... I didn't tap out; my challenge wasn't over-" you stutter. He turns, his raging blue eyes narrowed on you. Yours widened in shock as you register an emotion so rare, especially for him you almost missed it.

Sadness.

"Trust me. It was over."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

"Liam, it's only a bruise, it'll be healed in a few-"

"He shouldn't have been man-handling you like that."

You stare at him, pacing back and forth in your dorm room from the bed where you sit. He half carried you back here a half hour ago, ending your challenge early and ignoring orders from a professor in the process. Now he seemed all worked up over your injuries, which were rather minor, at that.

"Like what, exactly? Liam, I've trained with Bodhi a million times. I know he would never hurt me. Not for real, anyways." You say, and Liam meets your gaze. His deep blue eyes are as dark as the midnight sea, only illuminated by the candle lights in your room. He chews on his bottom lip, halting his pacing.

"He trains with you?" He asks quietly. You scoff incredulously, fiddling with the band at the end of your braid and loosening the strands.

"Yeah? He's my friend, Liam. I have to have someone to spar with, right? It's not like my boyfriend is exactly... available..." you trail off, casting your eyes toward the floor. You finish undoing your braid, the strands hanging in loose waves over your shoulders. His brows knot in confusion.

"Y/N, what are you... what do you mean?" he walks close, kneeling before you, placing his hands on your knees. His face is level with yours, and Gods damn you if you don't want to kiss him-

"You know I'm always here for you Y/N..." he says softly. You meet his gaze, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth to keep it from quivering.

"Liam... I barely even see you anymore." Oh boy, here we go. "You always have to be with... with Violet... and if I do see you, it's never in our own privacy... I never just get you alone, to myself..." you trail off. He presses a soft kiss to your knee, and you praise yourself for changing into shorts and one of his big shirts when you returned earlier.

"Baby... you know I just have to hang out with Violet for now, just because of all the attacks and such, but," he places another soft kiss further up your thigh, and you feel your pulse quickening by the second. "...you have me alone... right now, right?" He asks sweetly, his eyes meeting yours again. You lean back on your elbows, and though his tone is sweet, the lust swirling in his irises tells a different story. You nod wordlessly, and he continues moving up your body, softly pushing up the hem of your shirt with his fingertips. His eyes remain in contact with your as he plants soft kisses up your abdomen, the muscles flexing as you fight to remain calm under his searing touch.

He pulls back, lips curing into a wicked grin as his eyes waver to your waistband, and he hooks a finger under the seam.

"If you wanted to be... man-handled... you could have just... asked." He says, your eyes widening at his words. Heat pools between your thighs, the incessant need for your boyfriend to ravage you only growing with every passing second he teases you. He chuckles, slipping a hand beneath the bands of both your shorts and underwear and wasting no time sliding a finger through your folds, easily gliding through the slickness. His lusting gaze meets yours again, and his free hand pushes himself closer to you on the bed.

"Mmm... you really have been missing me, haven't you?" You nod, looking up at him doe-eyed and innocent. He shakes his head, cupping your jaw and running a thumb over your lower lip while continuing to tease your leaking heat with his other hand.

"Such a good girl... I haven't been around as much as I should, have I." He says it more to himself, his forefinger circling your entrance and you rock your hips forward, aching for more.

"I haven't been as good of a boyfriend lately, and I'm sorry for that, okay?" He cups your cheek, and you meet his gaze.

"Liam... please..." you beg.

"Let me make it up to you?" He asks. Your nod of confirmation is all he needs as he slips both his index and middle fingers in -- knuckles deep. You gasp, jolting forward a bit and he pulls out, reinserting and driving them back in again. You bite out a moan, leaning back on your hands and looking up into his eyes. He's smirking down at you, drinking in every inch of your complexion as he massages that spongy spot inside of you.

"Liam..." you chant. "Liam, oh... my..... please-" He rises from his knees on the floor, continuing to curl his fingers inside you, to hover over you. He cuts off your whimpers with a beautiful, bruising kiss that is both sloppy and salivating. A mix of tongue and teeth clash as you make out with a primal need, his teeth finding your swollen bottom lip and playfully latching on. You groan once more, feeling the warm band in your stomach tightening.

"Gods I'm... I'm so-" Liam retracts his fingers and you groan, his lips finding yours again. He shucks his trousers off, kicking his boots off moments later. He breaks the kiss, yanking his shirt over his head and pulling yours off after, your bottoms following. Laying bare before him, he breathes deep, loosing his breath through the nose as he hovers overtop of your naked form.

"Y/N, you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen," he says sweetly. You blush, even though this is the hundredth time you've had sex with the man and probably the hundred millionth time he's called you pretty. You feel his hard on grounding against you, and you wiggle your hips, only creating more friction. Liams hand meets your hip, holding firm.

"Tsk tsk," he says, kissing your nose. His hand snakes between the two of you, his knuckles brushing against your pelvis making you shiver. His fingers wrap around the length of his cock and stroke a few times as he inches closer, and when the head finally makes contact with your dripping core, you whimper.

"Li... please..." He flashes you a devilish grin, his cute dimple warming your heart as your hands find their way to his built shoulders atop you.

"Since you asked so nicely," he says lowly, and pushes into you. You suck in a breath, the small stretch increasingly painful as he continues to push in, inch by delicious inch. The pleasure courses through you when he is finally fully sheathed inside of you, a growl escaping his throat as his hips retract and slam back in with immeasurable force.

"LIAM-" You shout. He pulls his hips back again, only pulling out half way as he continues to pound into you relentlessly, relishing in every breathless moan and scream of his name he can pull from your perfect lips.

"So tight, baby.... my gorgeous, gorgeous girl," he praises. Your hands slide down his tones arms, and the calloused fingers on one of his hands thread through your delicate ones, holding them to the mattress above your head. His breath comes out in short pants, and you let out a particularly sharp gasp.

"Ugh, fuck Liam; just like that," you breathe. His fingers let go of yours and wrap around your lower back, pulling you flush against his chest. HIs pace quickens as your breasts bounce with every quick thrust he delivers.

"You feel so good, Y/N," he says between breaths. His soft grunts almost send you over the edge, the new pace and angle spurring the impending orgasm from within. His warm breath tickles your neck, and his lips find your cheek, placing a single kiss as he continues to savagely thrust into you. "So perfect..." he whimpers.

You can't hold it together long enough to warn him this time as you fly over the edge, your orgasm barreling through you. You cry out, hands tugging on the ends of Liam's hair as your walls squeeze around his throbbing cock that hasn't yet slowed, riding you through your high. Your thighs start to shake, and Liam's mouth drops open as his eyes meet yours once more.

"Oh fuck, Y/N-" he jolts, releasing inside of your pulsing core as his movements begin to slow. Your combined ragged breaths are the only sounds filling the room, and his fingers trace the curve of your collarbone as his eyes lovingly gaze into yours again. You offer him a soft smile in your fucked-out state and he chuckles, slowly slipping out of you and retrieving a cloth from your desk. You move to take it from him, but per usual, he insists on cleaning you up himself.

Ahh, the gentleman he is.

He returns from tossing the cloth in the wastebasket, and you pull his big tee over your head for the second time today. He frowns at you, and shrugs, reaching for his pants and pulling them back up over his hips. He takes the spot on the bed next to you, propping up on an elbow to stare down upon you.

"I meant it," he starts, and you sigh.

"Liam-"

"Really, Y/N. I know its shitty that I have to always hang around with Violet. I know it sucks that it means I have less time with you. And... and I know it isn't your favorite thing. It isn't mine either." He says, taking a strand of your hair and twirling it around his index finger before letting it fall, and going for another piece.

"I know this, and I still listen to Xaden's orders. I know that doesn't make me a very good boyfriend, and I need to do better." He says in finality with a nod. "I'll talk to Xaden in the morning about it." You lean up off the bed, planting your lips on his. His hands cradle the back of your head, kissing you back with all the love he has to give. When you pull away, you know that no matter what, no matter how much or how little time you have together, there's no changing the connection the two of you share.

"Liam, I don't think I could find a better boyfriend than the one laying next to me in this very moment. You're as good as they get, my love."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

[soulofapatrick]

Sleep, I've Got You - Liam Mairi x Female Reader

Summary: you haven't slept in two weeks and two people are pushing you to seek Liam's help

Warnings: none

Words: 2.3k

Y/N's POV

The training room is filled with quiet conversation, but I linger in the doorway, unnoticed. Violet is stretched out on the floor with a book in hand, Bodhi and Garrick are watching Ridoc and Sawyer debating something trivial. Liam is just listening along, breathing air through his nose  when either of the goofs say something even more ridiculous than the other but he’s fiddling with a dagger in his hand. Xaden is in the corner, brooding as usual, his dark eyes occasionally flicking up to meet mine before drifting away. 

“Go to him.” Draighanmúr’s, or Draighan as I call him, voice rumbles in the back of my mind, firm and gentle. His presence is soothing, as always, but his suggestion catches me off guard, feeling his silent urge for me to move from where I’m still hovering in the doorway. He doesn’t say who the ‘him’ is but I know exactly who he is on about. 

I shouldn’t be here. My body is heavy with exhaustion, my thoughts fogged by the lack of sleep that’s haunted me for days. I know I should turn around and head back to the dorms, crawl into bed and pull the duvet over my head and try to get a single wink of sleep. Something, or someone, keeps me rooted in place, Xaden’s eyes flicking over to mine again once more before he goes back to brooding. 

The shadows around me seem to come to life, curling around my ankles like tendrils, their touch cold and almost tangible. There’s a light pressure at the back of my legs, an insistent nudge that makes me take a wobbly step forwards. My breath catching in my throat as I realise what’s happening—these aren’t just ordinary shadows. They’re Xaden’s. 

I glare at my wingleader instinctively, annoyance flickering in my chest. He’s the only one who could be doing this, the one manipulating the shadows to push me out of the safety of the darkness where I’ve been hiding. His eyes meet mine briefly, and there’s a knowing look in them, an acknowledgment of what he’s doing. He doesn’t say anything, though, just tilts his head slightly as if to say, You know this is for your own good.

Draighan chuffs in the back of my mind as if agreeing with Xaden’s silent comment, his voice laced with a mix of amusement and agreement as he tells me You need rest, and you know who can give it to you. His presence is warm, comforting, but it doesn’t take away the frustration bubbling inside me. Xaden and Draighan unknowingly conspiring against me. 

With a resigned sigh, I continue to shuffle forwards, my movements somewhat sluggish and uncertain—things you don’t want for a dragon rider. Every step feels heavier than the last, and I hesitate again, my body instinctively trying to resit the pull. But I can feel Xaden’s eyes boring holes into the side of my head, a silent pressure that refuses to elm me retreat. It’s as if his gaze alone is propelling my forwards, leaving me no choice but to keep moving until I find myself standing next to the group of boys. 

Ridoc glances up at me, a mischievous grin on his face which would have me worried if it were anyone else but Ridoc as he asks, “You joining us?” His tone is light, but there’s genuine curiosity in his eyes, like he’s surprised I’ve wandered over to them and not Violet. 

I just nod, the motion feeling more like a reflex than a conscious decision. Without saying a word, I sink down the wall, near Sawyer and a few steps away from Liam, close enough to feel the warmth of Liam’s presence but far enough that I don’t feel complexly exposed. 

The golden evening light streams into the training room, casting a warm, ethereal glow over everything it touches. Liam sits bathed in that light, his soft light-blond hair catching the glow, making him look almost ethereal. His tall, muscular frame, as built as Dain, is relaxed as he fiddles with a dagger, the blade catching the light as it twirls effortlessly between his fingers. His blue eyes are focused on the conversation, a soft, thoughtful expression on his face as he listens to the banter around him. There’s a rugged handsomeness to him, emphasised by the prominent nose and the sprawling rebellion relic that begins at his wrist and disappears under the sleeve of his tunic. When he smiles, a dimple appears, adding a touch of warmth to his otherwise stoic demeanour.

My heart tightens in my chest as I watch him. He looks like he belongs in this light, like the strength and calmness of it are just extensions of who he is. There’s a quiet confidence about him that draws me in, and I can’t help but feel my crush on him swell, massive and overwhelming. I’m head over heels for him, and it’s a feeling that terrifies me as much as it thrills me. 

Draighan’s presence in my mind is a steady, reassuring hum, bolstering my resolve. I scoot closer to Liam, my movements slow and deliberate as I inch toward him. My heart races as I reach out, nudging his right arm from his lap. He looks down at me, a hint of surprise in his eyes, but he doesn’t say anything as I lay my head down where his arm once rested.

I tense, my whole body stiffening in anticipation of some kind of backlash or teasing comment. I’m ready for Ridoc’s sharp wit, for Sawyer’s playful jabs, or even for Liam to shift uncomfortably and pull away. But none of that happens. Instead, there’s a beat of silence, and then I feel Liam’s hand find its way into my hair. His fingers are gentle, tentative at first, before they start to move in slow, soothing strokes.

Liam's fingers begin to move through my hair, the touch light and careful, as though he’s afraid of hurting me. He smooths out the knots with practiced ease, each motion gentle yet firm. The tension I’ve been holding in my scalp and neck gradually starts to dissolve under his deft touch, the soothing strokes lulling me into a state of relaxation I haven’t felt in days.

As his hand continues to comb through my hair, he leans forward slightly, tilting my head to the side so that our eyes meet. His blue eyes, usually so sharp and alert, soften as they take in the exhaustion written across my face. There’s a quiet understanding in his gaze, a silent acknowledgment of how tired I am, how much I need this moment of comfort.

“You’re exhausted,” he murmurs softly, his voice low and tender. “Sleep.”

The warmth in his tone wraps around me like a blanket, and for a moment, everything else fades away—the noise of the room, the worries in my mind. It’s just him, his voice, and the steady rhythm of his fingers in my hair. He lets go of my face, leaning back against the wall as he continues his soothing ministrations. Before he settles, though, his fingers briefly brush against my cheek, a tender gesture that sends a warmth spreading through my chest. Then, his hand returns to my hair, the steady, rhythmic strokes coaxing me closer to the edge of sleep.

As I begin to drift, I catch Ridoc’s eyes from across the room. He’s been watching quietly, his playful demeanour momentarily subdued. He mouths a single word at me, a question: Nightmares?

I nod once, softly, the motion barely perceptible. It’s all I can manage in my state of exhaustion, but it’s enough. Ridoc’s gaze softens in understanding before he turns back to his banter with Sawyer, Bodhi, and Garrick, picking up the conversation where he left off.

The world around me fades into the background as Liam’s fingers continue to move through my hair, the gentle rhythm pulling me closer to sleep. Draighan’s presence hums softly in the back of my mind, a comforting reminder that I’m safe, that I can finally let go. My breathing slows, and before long, I succumb to the exhaustion, my body sinking into the warmth and comfort of Liam’s lap.

————

I slowly drift back into consciousness, the heaviness of sleep gradually lifting as awareness returns. The first thing I notice is the softness beneath my head—a pillow, not the comforting firmness of Liam’s lap where I last remember resting. I shift slightly, feeling the warmth of a blanket draped over me, its weight soothing against the cool air of the room. There’s another weight too, heavier and more solid, resting across my waist. It takes me a moment to realize it’s an arm, strong and steady, holding me close.

I blink, my eyes adjusting to the dim light in the room. The training room is gone, replaced by the soft glow of moonlight filtering through a small window. The familiar scent of leather and something distinctly Liam fills my senses, grounding me as I take in my surroundings. I’m not in the dorms, not in my own bed. My heart skips a beat as the realisation sinks in—I’m in Liam’s bed.

I take a slow, deep breath, feeling the rise and fall of the warm body behind me. His presence is solid, comforting, and undeniably familiar. The heat of his body seeps into my back, and for a moment, I just lie there, processing the unexpected but welcome reality of where I am.

Carefully, I roll over, shifting beneath the weight of his arm until I’m facing him. The room is quiet, the only sounds being the soft rustle of the blanket and the steady rhythm of Liam’s breathing. My eyes trace his features, relaxed and peaceful in sleep. His spiky blond hair is tousled, a few strands falling across his forehead. His sharp, blue eyes are hidden behind closed lids, their intensity softened by the calmness of slumber. His prominent nose and the faint shadow of stubble on his jawline give him a rugged look, but there’s a gentleness to him now, a vulnerability that makes my heart ache.

As I lie there, taking in every detail of Liam's serene face, I feel an overwhelming tenderness swell in my chest. His usually intense blue eyes are softened by sleep, his features relaxed in a way I rarely get to see. I can’t help myself—I lean in and press a gentle kiss to his jawline, just where the faint shadow of stubble begins. His skin is warm and slightly rough beneath my lips, the contact filling me with a quiet sense of intimacy.

The soft press of my lips causes him to stir, his brow furrowing slightly before his eyes slowly flutter open. For a moment, he looks disoriented, but then his gaze finds mine, and a slow, sleepy smile spreads across his face, the dimple in his cheek deepening.

"How'd you sleep?" he murmurs, his voice husky with sleep, and it sends a shiver down my spine.

I begin to answer, my voice still soft and laced with the remnants of sleep, "Better than I have in days—" But before I can finish, I notice his eyes flick down to my lips, lingering there for just a heartbeat before he moves.

In a fluid motion, Liam closes the small distance between us, capturing my lips in a kiss that feels like the culmination of something we’ve both been wanting for far too long. His lips are warm and firm against mine, moving with a gentle urgency that takes my breath away. His hand, still resting on my waist, tightens slightly, pulling me closer as if he needs to make sure I’m real, that this moment is real.

The kiss is slow and tender, but there’s a depth to it that speaks of unspoken emotions, of the comfort we find in each other. His thumb brushes over my cheek as he deepens the kiss, his touch both loving and reverent. I lose myself in the sensation, in the way his lips mold perfectly to mine, in the way his warmth seeps into every corner of my being. It feels like coming home, like finding a piece of myself I didn’t know was missing.

When we finally part, it’s with a shared breath, both of us a little dazed but undeniably content. His forehead rests gently against mine, our breaths mingling in the small space between us.

"Maybe we should get a little more sleep," he whispers, his voice a soft murmur that makes my heart flutter. There’s a hint of a smile in his voice, one that I can’t help but return.

"Yeah," I agree, my own voice barely more than a sigh as I shift closer, tucking myself against his bare chest. The steady beat of his heart beneath my ear is a comforting rhythm, lulling me back toward sleep. His arm wraps securely around me, holding me close as his other hand continues its soothing motions, tracing gentle patterns along my back.

As I drift off, the warmth of his body enveloping me and the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath my head, I feel an overwhelming sense of peace. With Liam holding me close, sleep comes easily, and I let myself surrender to it, knowing that for now, everything is exactly as it should be.

Fourth Wing Masterlist - To be made Comment to be added to tag list

[stupidlybookish]

Violet: Fight me.

Liam: *standing behind Violet* Touch her and you’ll regret it.

Xaden: *standing behind both of them* Touch either of them and you won’t live long enough to regret anything.

[sapchat]

It’s always “I wanna fuck Xaden Riorson” and “I’d let Xaden Riorson do xyz to me”

Just let me fuck Bodhi Durran. Let me fuck him. Make fics about him.

He’s literally described as being “closely resembling Xaden, just less angular”