#iron flame fic
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Stay Still | B. Durran |
Bodhi Durran x fwb!fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.8k
Warnings: NSFW, SMUT, MDNI, swearing, p in v, (unprotected sex pls pls be safe), cockwarming, not proofread well, switch!Bodhi, possessive!Bodhi, bratty!reader, poorly written smut, smut with little plot
A/n: hehhe this came out of my ass idk what got into me during my reading bonanza last night 🤭. I just felt truly inspired to try to write a full smut. This is my first official smut I’ve wrote so I would love feedback to improve on it if you have it, but I hope you find this as fun as I did!!
You sighed boredly laying on Bodhi’s bed, stomach pressed against the plush mattress, idly looking over a book about runes you tried to occupy your thoughts with. It had been thirty minutes since you arrived at the Section Leader’s door looking for some company in nothing but your black dressing robe and matching tiny nightgown underneath. Anticipating when he opened his door, he’d haughtily pull you into his quarters and ravish you like a man starved…but no. He merely gave you a once over before letting you in, and sat back at his desk doing his research on wards for Xaden.
You wanted to help as much as he did with resurrecting the wardstones for your friends, but now it had impeded on yours and his arrangement. It’s been two weeks since you last found yourself in the embrace of the man you craved, and you were desperate for the attention you lacked. It had become an unspoken routine you two had secretly engaged in since after Threshing last year. Only using each other other than for just distractions from the trials of surviving the Rider’s Quadrant at night, while during the day you were just squad mates.
You could feel another wave of heat go through your core at the thought of the secret that the two of you shared. You had been fighting the wanton desire since the last time you had found each other. Not that you weren’t satisfied by Bodhi, but you never stopped wanting him it had become glaringly obvious for you. You had even resorted to giving into flirty banter with Ridoc in front of him to get the Flame Section Leader’s acknowledgment, left with not even a sarcastic remark or scolding look on his part. Since Violet returned from Samara, there was a dire urgency to find answers on the wardstone.
But today was exemplarily tougher to push that ache down. After a rather intensive Flame Section sparring session after classes, you had been forced to watch Bodhi spar without drooling. His shirt discarded halfway through the session when he was challenged by Sawyer, the sweat glistening off his chiseled muscles. As if he knew the effect he had on you. The relic that swirled over his bulky biceps and veiny forearms and his dragon relic that loitered on the back of his left sharp shoulder blade down to the side of his refined torso. You had to take an extra cold shower once all the girls left the locker room to calm the burning desire that consumed you which proved to be no help.
You got off the bed, and made your way to him feeling impatient as your core throbbed once more. His back was towards you, displaying his relics that you admired and worshiped in the solace of the night. Your arms wrapping around his chest from behind, your nails lightly scratching his broad bare chest.
“Boh,” you whined, nipping at his earlobe. “Are you done yet?” You asked, a simper to your tone. The arousal in between your legs getting too heavy to bare, and clenching your thighs was no longer an option to fight the want for him. You wanted him now. No—you needed him, and you weren’t going to deprive yourself another minute.
“I don’t have much longer until I finish this section.” He murmured. He screwed his eyes shut trying to focus on the text in front of him, tilting his neck out of instinct to the side letting your lips press needy kisses down to his shoulder.
He had known when he saw you at your door in your skimpiest night clothes what you wanted. Finally making a move in the unintentional stalemate between the both of you. It didn’t fall on to blind eyes the way you went out of your way to be bratty throughout the last two weeks, attempting to get a rise out of him. It almost worked, but never being a jealous man, and clever enough to see right through you. The flirty comments to Ridoc, the way he could feel your alluring eyes burn holes into him during any time he was in the vicinity of you. He almost felt guilty leaving you hanging and to resort to blatant facades of making him jealous, a silent plea to just take you already.
He wanted to do nothing, but to fuck you and remind you who you belonged to.
You looked enticing, and every primal thought that flooded his mind he pushed down to the back of his mind when you appeared in front of his door. The churam he smoked an hour ago doing nothing to stop his chest from hammering, and the blood rushing to his manhood, twitching, at the sight of you. He had to use every ounce of his self discipline to keep his composure in check, letting you in without pouncing, devouring you like he wanted. Xaden would arrive back in Basgiath tomorrow expecting intel, and he hadn’t gotten very far in his research besides dead ends.
Your name got stuck in his throat barely sputtering it out as you sucked on the spot that you knew drove him wild, the conjunction of his neck and shoulder.
You weren’t exclusive with Bodhi, but you had learned everything about him that made him tick. From the littlest things like how his eyes lingered when your flight jacket was slightly undone bearing the slightest bit of cleavage in the low cut tank top you wore underneath—to what made him absolutely feral—the feeling of your lips with your teeth marking his sweet spot that would be barely concealed by the collar of his tight black training shirt the next day. Noting how he would wear the mark proudly like the patches on his jacket. Having a boyish grin when a squad mate would bring it up playing coy. No one knew they were left by you.
“I’ll help you after…” you purred, your hands traveling down his torso to the waistband of his night pants. Fingers nimbly tracing the barely grown out hair that led underneath the cotton. “I’ve been waiting weeks for you.” You pouted before peppering more kisses on his cheeks, feeling satisfied at the sharp intake of air he took at the movement.
You would get your way, there would be no other outcome of you showing up at his door tonight than to be ruined by Bodhi Durran.
“I’m expected to have something to report on tomorrow.” He protested weakly, savoring your mouth against jaw, but still keeping his eyes on the parchment.
His dissolve was close to crumbling, feeling the cold fingertips slip underneath his waistband. All he wanted to do was bend you over his desk, imagining your cheek pressed to the ancient texts laid out on the wooden surface as he railed into you from behind. His cock hardened more at the idea of him inside you.
“Xaden won’t-” you were cut off by the scrape of the wooden chair against the stone floor making you stumble backwards slightly. Bodhi abruptly slid his bottoms down, revealing half hardened manhood, sitting back down in the chair.
“C’mere,” he growled. His tone had a dangerous lilt to it, only making the wetness that had pooled in your panties grow more. His usual warm brown eyes blown out filled with something more than lust.
Your throat ran dry, obeying as you stepped in between his legs. He leaned his forehead against your stomach, inhaling steady breaths as if he could smell your arousal. His rough hands gripping your bare outer thighs before slipping under your nightgown, roughly kneading the soft flesh of your ass. Then he hooked his fingers around the fabric of your undergarments dragging them down your legs.
“You want me to fuck you, but have another man’s name leave your lips?” He gritted out through his, barely speaking above a whisper.
Bodhi knew he was overreacting, but when his cousin’s name came out of your mouth, his primal instincts came bubbling to the surface. A feral fire fueling him, no longer to be tamed. How dare you bring up Xaden, when you came here solely looking for relief from him after acting the way you’ve been.
You were taken aback by the words, leaving you stammering. “I-I’m sorry, Boh..”
This was a new side to him, you’ve never seen before. A nervous pang made your heart skip a beat, though excited at the aggressiveness in his actions.
“You think I haven’t noticed what you’ve been doing the last two weeks?” He cupped the back of one of your thighs, bringing a leg over his. “Think you were being sly?” He questioned.
You shook your head furiously, forgetting how to speak momentarily.
He pinched the inside of your thigh, only adding to the fire that blazed in your core, a soft gasp leaving your slacked jaw. “Use your words, babygirl.”
“N-no,” the words airily released from your throat, a pink tint to your cheeks.
He smirked, a dry laugh escaping him. “That's what I thought.” He dragged your other leg over his so you were now straddling him, knees perched on the extra wide seat. “Since you want to be a brat, you can sit on my cock until I’m done here.” He held his member with one hand, pumping slowly. “You got it?”
You gulped, watching how it twitched ever slightly, and his shoulders relaxed as he held himself. Nodding eagerly, biting your lip, still looking between the both of you awaiting for him to be inside you.
His free hand wrapped around your hair, pulling it, forcing you to look in his eyes. “What did I say about your words?” He growled. A soft moan left your lips at the gesture. His darkened brown eyes wavered in hunger and pride at the reaction.
“Y-yes, please…” you begged, feeling him rub the tip against your slick folds.
“Good girl, so wet for me,” he groaned.
He slowly inserted himself at your entrance, his hand finding your hip to help lower yourself on to him until he bottomed out inside you. His thick member stretching you out in a blissful sting that he could make you feel. You both sighed at the feeling, and you rested your head in the crook of his neck holding on to him with a near death grip.
You could feel yourself throb as he went back to working. His hands lightly brushing your sides every time he flipped a page or went to jot a note down in his notebook, causing jolts to go down your body. You tried to grind your hips to provide the teeniest bit of relief, Bodhi would only grip your thighs with a bruising force.
“Stay still,” he hissed, his head rolling back as he felt you clench around him again. A small smirk graced your lips, an idea coming to your mind.
One of your hands slid in between you, and found your clit. You moaned, as your fingers circled the sensitive nub.
“Y/n…” he warned, listening to the sweet noises you made in his ear, gripping the quill in his hand tightly. He had thought he had the upper hand in this, but as you touched yourself, his cock warming your insides, he felt the remaining bit of his dissolve crumble. “You’re such a fucking brat.” He held your hips, halting your movements.
“Do something about it then.” You challenged, pressing a chaste kiss to his full lips.
He thrusted up into you, sounds sweet as sin coming from your throats. A wicked smile twisted on to your face, finally. “I fully intend to.” He mumbled, pulling you into another kiss, this time longer and heated. You nipped at his lower lip, earning a hiss from him as you slipped your tongue into his mouth.
Drilling into you at a slow agonizing pace, your tongues fought for dominance, the kiss becoming broken up between strings of noises leaving the both of you. The slow burn pleasure painstakingly from the pace he had set. You tried to lower yourself up and down to go at a faster pace and to your dismay he slowed his movements more, squeezing your hips in caution.
You pulled away panting, “more.” You were a whimpering mess, frustrated to find your release. “Please, Bodhi.”
“Just because you get what you want doesn’t mean you still can’t be punished.” A lazy smirk etched on to his broad jaw. “I have to remind you who you belong to.”
He slowly thrusted up into you again, making you cry out. His face contorted to a look of pleasure as he provided deep slow strokes into you, the sight of him biting his now bruised lip heavenly.
“I’m yours, please.” You begged, nails biting into his shoulders. “Only yours.” You cried when he thrusted particularly harder when you said that.
“Y’ feel so good around me.” He drawled. “Like your pussy was made for me, sweetheart.” His words caused an effect on your whole body from your pussy clenching harder around him to your heart swelling from the praise.
The atmosphere felt entirely different from the usual casual hook ups from before. His forehead resting against yours, occasionally nuzzling your nose with his whispering lines of worship for you taking his time.
“Feels so good,” you panted, looping your fingers in his curls at the nape of his neck. You could feel yourself go dumb as his fingers found your clit, circling it with the same agonizing pace of his cock. You don’t know how much of this you could take. “Please, please, please let me ride you.”
“Do you deserve to ride me?” He taunted in between thrusts.
You nodded vigorously, ���please let me make you feel good, Boh. Please.”
He stopped playing with your clit, bringing his fingers to your swollen lips. You sucked your juices off of them, tasting yourself as he leaned back in the chair.
“Mm, since you’ve been begging so nicely.” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
The moans you released as you fucked yourself onto Bodhi’s cock were angelic. Letting you lower yourself up and down, watching as you got lost, getting drunk on his manhood. His hands had a firm grip on your waist, helping guide you down his length.
“That’s it, ride me like the good slut you are.” He watched your cunt sink onto him, swallowing his length whole.
You could start to feel the familiar coil of release start to come undone, and you knew you weren’t gonna last long. The sounds of your slick and his pants encouraging you to go faster.
Bodhi sensed the way you gripped him, you were going to climax, and met your rhythm bucking his hips upward. “You gonna come f’me?” He asked.
You could only mewl in response, the pleasure rendering you speechless as you rode him harder. Your vision blurred with stars, your body going rigid from the surge of tingling pleasure that electrified your body. The coil finally unraveling in your core as you orgasmed. You let out a throaty moan that was muffled by his lips, kissing passionately.
The tawny skinned man didn’t stop his movements, feeling his own release chasing yours. His aching cock twitched in need of relief. He muttered curses, his pace getting sloppier as he whimpered your name.
“Come for me, Boh.” You whispered softly. His arms wrapped tightly around your midsection, clinging to you like his life depended on it as he kept fucking you.
You felt the twitch, and his release shoot into you, a guttural groan following it. Feeling the mix of your arousals seeping out of you, his cock throbbing.
The heavy breathing from the both of you was the only noise in the room, you two staying in the position. You lightly scratched his scalp letting him regain his composure, his arms loosely holding you still. After a minute, he leaned away looking at you silently.
The intense gaze made you self conscious, clearing your throat as indication you were getting up. His arms only tightened around you once more, but he let his cock sink out of you, feeling your releases cover both of your thighs.
“I should get going,” you stated bluntly.
“Stay the night?” He reached over for the t-shirt that was crumpled on the floor beside his desk. Gingerly wiping you off first, being extremely gentle and careful to not be too abrasive with your sensitive parts, before he cleaned himself off.
You blinked in surprise, he never asked that before—let alone so nonchalant. You two never stayed too long in one another’s quarters after, let alone spend the night with one another. This would encroach the boundaries you mentally placed on this arrangement, ultimately entangling what you had already felt for the man in front of you.
“Aren’t you worried someone will see?” You asked warily.
He offered his usual boyish grin. “That’s kind of the point, sweetheart.”
Personally the pacing was weird for me to write, but I hope it gave you guys what you needed! The idea of fwb possessive Bodhi now has me in a chokehold lmao. Like I said, I am always open to improvements and feedback as this was a bit out of my comfort zone 🫶🏻🩷
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The healer said
Bodhi Durran x Reader
This fic is rated 18+. Read at your own discretion. Warnings below.
A/N: SO! First smutty fic, first Bodhi fic... a lot of firsts in this fic! Anyways. Hope it's not too bad and readable. Enjoy! 💕
Summary: Bodhi reminds you of what "the healer said" about what you can and can not do because of your concussion.
Word count: 4,182k
Wanrnings: smut, oral (f receiving), penetration, talk of concussion, talk of broken bones, blood
Professor Emetterio had surely planned to kill you by choosing Felix Braun as Y/N’s sparring partner. Bodhi was sure of that. You stood no chance against the guy. Bodhi knew that you were strong, wise, devastatingly beautiful… You could easily make lots of guys and girls in this room tap out. But cadet Braun… The guy was viscous, fast, tall, and built like a bear. No weapons, no signets, professor Emetterio had insisted. Bodhi was standing on Xaden's side, arms crossed, as he looked over the woman he became ridiculously smitten with. He could still recall the day he’d seen you cross that parapet with the same determination Amari herself, queen of the gods, was described to hold in her eyes. The spar started, moving his attention back on the mat, his eyes were glued on you, Xaden chuckled beside him. Bodhi shot him a glare, his eyes burning with annoyance as he clicked his tongue, turning his attention back to his… dearest friend.
You managed to throw a kick in Felix Braun's ribs, he stumbled a little, and you jumped on the opening you had to throw a few jabs at him before dodging his next attack. Xaden whistles discreetly when he notices the damage the woman did on Braun, “She is quite sturdy,” Xaden compliments her, making Bodhi grin proudly. “Yeah, she is,” He whispers, his eyes shining with adoration. He tried not to flinch when you failed to dodge a few punches from Braun, he frowned, keeping his focus solely on you. He crossed his arms tightly on his chest and watched the spar carefully, ready to jump in and break every codex law if it got too dangerous for you. He knew you could handle it, but Braun was known to be cruel, and Bodhi didn't like that for one bit, that this girl had to spar with this asshole.
Bodhi would have loved to be the one to spar with you, he would've let you break his nose and force him to tap out happily, if it meant being pinned down on the mat between those thick delicious thighs of yours. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to distract himself from these thoughts before it became too obvious. He sensed Xaden smirk beside him, “What.” Bodhi snarled, “Nothing… Nothing,” Xaden taunted, his hands rising in front of him as if he was oh so innocent. Bodhi rolled his eyes and looked over Violet standing on the other side of the room, he pointed his chin in her direction, “Don't act like you've never thought anything like that about her, cousin.” He winked at his cousin, and Xaden’s teaseful grin faded. “It's not like that,” He muttered under his breath, and this time, it was Bodhi’s turn to smirk like an asshole. He was way too pleased to have managed to make his cousin feel embarrassed for once.
But his grin quickly faded when he saw your frail body being propelled in the air, Braun lifting you above his head in one swift movement, before crashing you to the mat in a loud thud. He heard all of the air escape from your lungs with the force of the impact, and if it weren't from Xaden's shadows, he would've jumped from his place when Felix's clenched fist met with your perfect cheek bone. “She didn't tap out yet.” Xaden warned, both of them staring attentively at the fight. Braun kept hitting, and hitting your now unconscious body, Xaden's shadows left Bodhi's ankles the second you passed out, unable to defend yourself in your condition, “That's enough,” Xaden ordered Felix, trying to sound nonchalant. Bodhi quite literally ran to your side. “She didn't tap out-” Felix Braun tries to argue as Bodhi rushed dangerously closer to him, “Get the fuck away from her.” Bodhi yanked Felix off of you, swinging him full force into the nearest wall.
Bodhi wasted no time to get his attention back on you. He cradled you carefully up into his strong arms. Bodhi looked towards Emetterio who was staring from the other side of the room. “He taps out,” Bodhi snaps at the professor, then he walked quickly out of the room, his blood boiling with rage by how fucking stupid Felix Braun was. Braun could've killed you. He almost did. Bodhi looked down at your limp unconscious body in his arms. Your body was coated in a thin sheen of sweat, blood stained your clothes, and your cheekbone and nose were twisted in an unnatural shape. But Gods, did he find you beautiful nonetheless.
All eyes turned on him carrying you when he kicked open the healer’s quadrant door with his leather boot. The healer quadrant was buzzing today, everyone too busy to pay attention to him, or the unconscious stunning angel in his arms. Bodhi was growing frustrated at the thought that no one rushed to take care of you as he did, but he calmed down only slightly when he met Nolon’s eyes. Bodhi held his gaze, and even though the man looked quite busy he sighed and headed toward them. “She needs healing. Now.” Bodhi pressed, reluctant to let go of your frame when Nolon motioned him to lay her down on the medical examination table. “Oh I’m quite sure I know what this cadet needs, wingleader Durran. It’s pretty much my job.” Nolon accentuated their respective titles. You were a cadet. A cadet who wasn’t on his wing. A cadet whom he wasn’t responsible for as a wingleader from a section that wasn’t hers. She was a cadet that Nolon, as a healer, was supposed to take care of. Nolon’s tone made it pretty damn clear that it was best for everyone that Bodhi would just exit this room to let the healers do their jobs. So, reluctantly, Bodhi left you in the skillful hands of the healers. ‘You’re so pathetically smitten by her.’ Cuir's voice resonated annoyingly from his side of the bond. And Bodhi’s cheek slightly turned a shade redder as he walked through Basgiath’s halls, his thoughts racing towards you. He couldn’t hide the obvious truth from his dragon, so he simply answered, ‘I know I am.’
°●°●°♥︎°●°●°
When you finally slipped out of your restless slumber, you had to pry your eyes open. They were dry, and the bright lights of the room made your head pound. Your stomach churned as you rolled off what you now realized was an examination table, and you emptied what little food you had consumed today before sparring. You recognized Nolon's hand holding up your hair as you heaved, and your nausea ceased as soon as you felt his powers running through you. “Felix Braun had it rougher.” Nolon reassured you, managing to get a weak chuckle out of you. He linked his arm underneath your armpit and helped you up on your wobbling legs. You wiped the remnants of vomit and saliva off your lips, then your fingers gently traced over the curve of your nose. Your nose was now perfectly straight, still sensible, but straight. “Bodhi helped me I suppose?” You roll your eyes. You were glad of your friend's help, but sometimes you just wished you could be strong like him. Nolon shrugged his shoulders, and you knew he was lying when he told you that Bodhi “Barely,” helped you out.
When you felt your muscles strong enough to support you, you took a few steps away from Nolon, heading towards the door. He raised his eyebrow at you, “Where are you going like that, young lady?” He crossed his arms, his voice a clear warning that you were better not to leave this room like that. You sighed at Nolon's caring nature, and slowly turned to him, “I was… going to get some rest.” You lied, knowing that you had at least one hour left before curfew to practice what mistakes you've made in your spar against Braun. Nolon shoved a paper bag into your hand, and your eyes widened at the tons of different pills there were in there. The blue one was for when you'll wake up in the mornings, the light yellow and the white one while eating, and the two big red ones before going to bed. The suspicious brown syrup was to be taken if you were to be in too much pain, Nolon explained.
You barely registered anything he'd just said, and you probably wouldn't need to recall all of these pills posology since in your opinion, it was unnecessary. You would probably not even take them. You were a rider. A strong, powerful rider. Rider's don't have time to be sick, or hurt. You thanked Nolon nonetheless, and headed towards the sparring room. It was empty, not to your surprise. It was Friday, and cadets were probably gone celebrating for whatever reason they made up, like still being alive. You tucked an elastic band beneath your boot, the other part of it trapped inside your hand, and you pulled on it to stretch the muscles of your sore shoulders. After thoroughly stretching, you moved to the punching bags to practice your jabs. You tried to ignore the thrombin pain in your head and the tensions on your muscles as you kept giving it your all in your training. Sweat was dripping from your forehead, landing on your cheeks, and you sighed, moving a few steps back from the punching bag to take your breath.
“You shouldn't be out here.” You heard a familiar voice call out from behind you. That deep, rich voice that sent butterflies flying in the pit of your stomach everytime he was around. “It's not curfew yet.” You stubbornly answer back, wiping your forehead and getting ready for your next set of punches. “You just got mended, you shouldn't overwork yourself like that,” Bodhi's concerned voice was now closer to your right ear, and you felt his hand hesitating to rest on your shoulder. Without warning, you spun around and placed your hands on his chest, sending his cheeks ablaze at your sudden closeness. “And you're not my wingleader, you shouldn't be ordering me around like that,” You say, your voice dangerously low. You can't help yourself but to stare at those scrumptious lips of his, then back into the depth of his soft brown eyes, his pupils were wide. “Then, your healer said you shouldn’t overwork yourself like… that…”
Bodhi gulped as you walked closer to him, his fingers sneaked almost shakily on the curve of your hips. He roamed his fingers over the fabric of your shirt, then laid his palm flat on your hip, caressing it gently as if he risked breaking you. You get yourself even closer to him, your bodies tightly pressed on eachother, and you internally wondered where this sudden boldness of yours was coming from. It wasn’t a secret that you and Bodhi were eyeing constantly eye-fucking eachother in class, at trainings, at meetings with the other marked ones around… You had exchanged a few fleeting touches with him before too. Your fingers had sometimes sneaked over his to rub them softly when the two of you were sitting beside each other, but never have you been pressed against Bodhi Durran's delicious body before. You must’ve hit your head pretty fucking hard to dare try making a move on Bodhi, your childhood friend, a second year, a wingleader.
“Did the healer forbid anything else?” You whisper, moving your lips dangerously close to his neck. His scent… His scent was driving you crazy. His aroma of leather and embers made your nostrils flare in delight, and it lit up your whole body in flames. He shivers as your nose brushes over the skin of his neck, and you feel his fingers digging into the soft skin of your hips. You raised on your tippy toes, your lips finally making contact with the skin of his jaw, and you almost moaned in delight at how heavenly it felt to place kisses over his jawline. It felt natural, familiar, and Bodhi was fighting every urge he had, probably because he still doubted that this goddess wanted a man like him, to throw his head back and buck against her. “Mh?” You pressed, still waiting for his answer.
Your voice vibrated on Bodhi’s neck, sending shivers up his spine, and he instantly felt himself harden only from the sound of your voice. Gosh he was pathetically smitten with this woman. He gulps, and you feel his Adam apple bobbing, making you want to dig your teeth into it. “I do not recall if he forbade any other activities…” He slid his hand from her hips to her lower back, venturing lower, and lower, until he cupped both of your buttcheeks in his palms. His voice rumbled when he felt how your ass moved when his fingers massaged it while you kept kissing his jaw, his neck, his collarbone. “Then I suppose that if I feel like climbing you like a tree, and that you allow me to, I can?” You purred, and Bodhi groaned, he bucked against the hand you sneaked between the two of you, increasing the pressure of your palm placed on the bulge of his pants. “Shit- Y/N,” He warned you, trapping your chin between his thumb and index, forcing your head back to look up at him, “You have no idea what you’re implying right now, what you’re getting yourself into…”
You plunged your eyes into his, the pounding of your head replaced by the loud thuds of your heart. You pressed your thighs together, biting your lips at the friction, and Bodhi stared down. He sucked in a breath, and before he could chicken out and walk away to lead you to your room to rest like the gentleman you know he is, you told him, “Trust me, I do. Can we stop eye-fucking eachother and just get at it?” His eyes squeezed and you felt him shudder, as if he was fighting some inner demons, overthinking wether it was right, or terribly wrong to fuck you in this state. He opened his eyes, fire dancing in the depths of his eyes.“Fuck yes we can.” His voice was low and sounded primal. He attacked your lips like a starved beast, and it felt as if your souls had merged from this kiss. You could feel him, smell him, taste him everywhere. Feeling him was dizzying, arousing, tantalizing.
You barely even registered how you stumbled into Bodhi’s bedroom, nor if you had been seen by people on your way there. Your lips had not left Bodhi’s once since he lifted you up into his arms and dragged you here. The last thing you remembered was proposing him to just fuck in the public showers, but Bodhi just didn’t feel like having anyone catching the two of you like this. To be honest, Bodhi just didn’t want anyone to see you, his beautiful girl, naked. Were you his though? He wasn’t sure. And he clearly did not feel like stopping what they were doing, or about to do, right now just to put a name on what they were. He’d fuck you, mark you, and treat you like his tonight. He’d treat you right, love you right, and fuck you right too while he’s at it.
You were breathing loudly, your lips crashing against his. Bodhi’s neck was already coated with your saliva as you occasionally moved your lips away from his to nip at the column of his neck. Clothes were flying over the room, landing on the floor haphazardly, a weird contrast to Bodhi's immaculately neat bedroom. He lets out a filthy hum when you tug his underwear off, leaving the both of you now completely naked. You slid away from him slightly, his hands leaving your behind as you sank down on your knees. You stick out your tongue, his heavy head sliding on your tongue. You barely have the time to taste the slightly salty pearl of precum shining on the tip of his cock before Bodhi snapped out of his daze, lifting you by the armpits and laying you down on the bed. You raise an eyebrow at him, worried you might’ve done something that upset him, but he kissed your worries away. His lips met your cheek, and he gently bit it. “Tonight, I’m taking care of my sweet girl.” He growls in your ear, kissing the spot right beneath your earlobe lovingly before tracing his tongue down your neck, all the way to the swell of your breast.
You combed your fingers through his dark curls with your right hand, your left hand already intertwined with his. You squeezed his hand gently as he placed kisses all over your breasts, nipping at the skin to leave small love bites on them. “And… Will I be the one to take care of you tomorrow?” You bit your lips, wondering if maybe you had been too bold to presume there would be other times. But he snickered, moving down to kiss your stomach. He looked at you through his thick eyelashes, and you could see a feline grin plastered on his face as he got further down your body. “Patience, lovely, we have plenty of time to think about what we’ll do tomorrow…” Before you could think of a smart thing to answer back to his teasing tone, his tongue lapped a long stripe of your arousal. Your head tilted back as you softly moaned, and you pulled on his hair, instinctively bringing his mouth closer to where you needed it most.
His nose pressed against your throbbing clit while his tongue slowly swiped through your soaked folds. He squeezed your hand softly, his thumb stroking the back of your hand. “Look at me, your eyes are too pretty to be shut…” His voice rumbles in his throat, and you pear at him through half lidded eyes. Gods… he was beautiful. He had painted your neck, your stomach, your breasts, with dark red marks. It was like a gentle reminder for tomorrow, and the days to come, of all the places his lips had been on you. He pushed your thigh back against your stomach with his free hand, sticking his tongue further into your folds, teasingly pushing in your hole. You bit your lip, and you would’ve shut your eyes closed from the overwhelming pleasure Bodhi was giving you, if it weren’t from the clear warning in his eyes. You bucked your hips against his face, making his tongue disappear deeper into you. Bodhi lustfully sighed, his breath caressing your cluster of nerves.
You squirm underneath him as a pleasurable tingle rushes into your lower abdomen. “Bodhi,” You moaned his name, and he grunted, rubbing his shaft against the mattress at the sound of his name coming out from those beautiful lips of yours. That only could’ve been his undoing if he didn’t fight the urge to calm himself down to prolong the pleasure. “What?” He had the audacity to answer, slightly lifting his face from between your thighs. His chin was glistening with a mix of your essence and his own saliva. You tugged his hair toward you, and he raised on his elbows, his predatory eyes fixed on yours as he crawled up to your face. He slid his needy lips on yours, tilting tugging your head back to sneak his tongue into your mouth. You tasted yourself on him, a thing you would’ve never considered hot until now. It made your face heat from how naughty it felt to taste your arousal on his tongue. Her inner walls were clenching around nothing, craving for something the emptiness Bodhi’s skillful tongue had left down there.
“I need you,” You whispered against his lips, and his cock twitched between your pressed bodies. “Inside,’ You clarified, making him chuckle slightly as he positioned himself, sliding his dick against your pussylips to lube himself with your cum. “Inside, mh? What do you need inside,” Fucking prick. “Your cock-ah…” You pressed your forehead against his as he kept holding onto your hand, his other one gently massaging your inner thigh as he sheathed into you slowly, watching your every reaction. “Is this okay?” He frowns slightly, his forehead moving away from yours to kiss your nose gently. His heavy breathing fanned over your cheeks, tickling them slightly. You smiled and squeezed his hand in reassurance, moving your free hand to cup his chin. “Yes,” You affirm confidently, rolling your hips against him.
He groaned, plunging his cock in your entrance in one thrust of his hips. His jaw twitched under your fingers, and you moved it to his shoulder. “Don't hold back, I can take it,” He tilts his head back at your words and growls, as if you had unleashed the beast in him. He rutted into you, his head hitting you deep, and fast. The sound of your raspy breathing and the slapping of his balls against your wetness echoed in the room, and you prayed to the gods that he had warded his room, because if he didn't, the whole quadrant would probably hear you chanting his name like a prayer. There was no way you could hold it back. Not when he was fucking you as if it was the last time.
Your thigh trembled, your eyes rolled back, and Bodhi held your chin between his fingers so he could admire your features contorting as you came. “That's it… Good girl…” He grunted, his pace slowing nust for a moment as he led you through your orgasm. You breath out a needy whimper when Bodhi's cock slipped out of you, and he flipped you onto your stomach. You could feel the drenched sheets pressing against your pelvis in this position. He slid a pillow underneath your hips, pressing his hardness against your throbbing cunt, and bent down to reach your ear. “Think you can take a bit more for me?” You nodded, wiggling your hips to rub against him.
He hummed, biting onto your shoulder as he entered you once again, this time, slowly. You felt his abs twitch against your back with every thrust, his hand had left yours, now caressing your body with both hands. He held your hip gently, and his other hand worked on your perked niple, gently rolling it between his thumb and index. You were seeing stars, and you felt like you were floating on a cloud. Sex had never felt like this before, and you'd give your soul to Malek if this was the last time you'd have the chance to experience that. His thrust started to feel sloppier, and you could hear his breathing getting raspy. “Fuck,” He swore, his fingers digging tightly into your the flesh of your hip. His other hand slid between your legs, his fingers applied a light pressure to your overstimulated clit and you screamed in pleasure, arching your ass up. Bodhi couldn't hold it back anymore, he grunted, pulling out in one swift movement and his sperm spurted on your back.
He almost came again at the sight of your ass and your back covered with his semen and love bites. Gods you were beautiful, sprawled like this on his bed, panting, sweating, disheveled… He would keep you in his bed, dress you in his clothes, and cover you with his marks everyday if you'd allow him to. He sat on his knees, his fingers running through your hair in a failed attempt to untangle them. He gave your ass a small smack before reaching his arm towards the tissue box on the nightstand to clean you up. He wiped your back clean, then massaged your muscles with his large hands. He bent over to kiss your cheek, and his heart melted when you turned on your back to pull him on top, kissing his lips as lovers would.
You stroked his hair when he pulled his lips away from you, still snuggled on you, his elbow holding his weight a little so he doesn't crush you. “I need to use the toilet.” You smiled tiredly, and you rolled out of bed, wincing at how sore your legs were. You extended your arm towards Bodhi’s shirt on the floor and slipped it on. “Will you…” You heard him speak up hesitantly. You pear at him over your shoulder, je was sprawled on the bed, propped onto his arm, the sheets messily covering all the way up to his waist. “Yeah?” You insisted to him to continue his request, “Will you… Come back to bed, after?” You smiled, leaning in the doorframe of his bathroom. “Yeah. Is that okay?” You winked at him, and his heart skipped a beat. “Excellent…” He exhaled, a dumb grin stuck on his face as he plopped down onto the bed, stretching his legs as he waited for you to come out of the bathroom. Cuir was right. He was pathetically smitten by this woman. And he was fucking proud of it.
#fourth wing#bodhi x y/n#bodhi x reader#bodhi durran#bodhi#fourth wing bodhi#fourthwing#fourth wing by rebecca yarros#iron flame#iron flame by rebecca yarros#iron flame bodhi durran#iron flame bodhi#fourth wing bodhi durran#ironflame#fourth wing fic#iron flame fic#onyx storm#fiction#my fic#fics#fic#fluff#concussion#healer quadrant#riders quadrant
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still on a "wanting to fuck Bodhi train"
Could contain spoilers idk, but i mainly talk dragon names.
Let's deep dive "and by deep dive i mean it's only like 5 feet cuz i have a tummy ache so this is the only info I have.
Bodhi has a Green dragon, we know this from when Violet borderline burns out, he says Cuir (his dragon) says she needs food and Eya/eva/someone(?) says "A green would know"
Now we only know two dragons true names, and that's Tairn and Andarna, we also know Rebecca Yarros is a fan of Gaelic words/names (even if she ain't the best at pronouncing them). Tairn's true name meaning thunder (cuz just tairn's is nail), and Andarna's is Second honour.
Now you can deep dive into all the dragons names like Sgaeyl means shadow (which is should actually be Sgàile if i do google translate right (Yes Mr. Silva I still use google translate I passed Spanish didn't I?))
But we also know their names don't necessarily go with their powers (As these dragons have had their names for years it's just wild that coincidently Xaden wields shadows and Violet has lightning and that's what their names mean) As Ridoc's signet is ice but his dragons name (not the full name) means Light (Also Aotrom you do you, you little brown babe love you).
But we also know this: Liam wields ice before he dies. Deigh means Ice. Little sus Becky, little sus.... >>
Now I don't speak Gaelic, never have and honestly I probably will never be able to as I got a speech impediment and can't say any type of accent like word. Like to the point my Spanish teacher told me not to take Spanish 2 as I couldn't actually speak it. So I found a fun little website where I just googled "Gaelic word's starting with Cuir" and after looking at the long ass list
I think I can confidently say Bodhi's dragons full name is Cuirairfalbh meaning "put away" and I feel that's reaaalllllyyyy fitting for someone who's rider's signet is countering signets. He literally 'puts them away'.
I also find it would be fitting for this to be his name as Greens are the smartest dragons, and are stated perfect for sieges, so wouldn't being named "put away" be super fitting for a green dragon who was basically made to storm castles and shit?
Any way thanks for coming to my BodhiTalk
#ridoc fourth wing#bodhi fourth wing#fourth wing#fourth wing theory#bodhi durran#bodhi iron flame#garrick fourth wing#xaden riorson#violet sorrengail#liam mairi#liam mairi fourth wing#dain fourth wing#dain aetos#garrick iron flame#iron flame#fourth wing x reader#fourth wing fic#iron flame x reader#iron flame fic#bodhi durran x reader#iron flame theory#xadenviolet#rebecca yarros
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Green Dragon Part 2
Xaden Riorson x Reader
The requested Part 2! I hope y’all enjoy the continued angst, along with fluff and happy ending. Thanks so much for reading and loving the first part!
Word Count : Over 9k
Warnings: violence, torture, swearing
Part 1
Even though your relationship with Xaden never improved, you felt yourself finally willing to talk with the rest of the boys.
Months after the first time Bodhi said he wanted to talk to you again, you were finally back to hanging out the way you used to. Sometimes he would bring Garrick and Liam with him when you would go and hang out at the river.
Your favorite times to hang out with them was sunset, but one night you found yourself with Bodhi and Garrick staring up at the stars.
“You know this reminds me of the time that Xaden and I first found you sneaking out of the dorms as a first year.” Garrick states.
You turn to look at him and aren’t afraid to let him see the happiness the memory brings along with the sadness at the mention of Xaden.
“You told us that we should always take time to look at the sky and appreciate the beauty around us.” He continued. “That was after you tried to take both of us on to stop from getting told to get back to the citadel.” I smile back at the amused look he now has on his face.
“I can’t help the fact that neither one of you would just let me enjoy the stars. Besides, if the two of you hadn’t found me out here, we probably wouldn’t be friends. It’s not my fault that you thought I was trying to uncover your secrets.” I huff back at him, earning an eyeroll from the man after mentioning their secrets.
“Yeah well, we didn’t plan on letting you in on any secrets.” He snarked, even though you knew there was really no menace behind it.
“Too late for that now.” You say as you give him a saccharine sweet smile.
It wasn’t your fault that the entire group adopted you into their family. You supposed you were just lucky. Although, you knew that if you hadn’t come across that one letter that was irresponsibly tossed, you would’ve never learned the truth either.
‘You were smarter and more observant than the Wingleader gives you credit for.’ Cedri concluded in your mind.
Another smile breaks out over your face at your dragon’s continued skills to make you feel like you were too clever for your own good. At least you knew that was one way you got on Xaden’s nerves. For some reason, he could never predict what information you could get out of anyone. Even though he tried to keep things from you, you always seemed to pick them apart and discover what they were doing.
‘Besides, you needed to know what we are up against if you were going to fight like the Wingleader expects you to.’
‘Yes, well I suppose I won’t have to live up to his expectations anymore.’ I sass back not wanting to talk about the “Wingleader” with my dragon.
‘You may not want to talk about him, but that doesn’t stop your thoughts.’ Cedri muses into your mind.
You can’t help the labored sigh that breaks from you after your dragon points out your inability to let Xaden go completely.
‘Thank you, Oh Illustrious One, for pointing out my human weakness of emotions for the millionth time.’ You sigh back to him. If only you could block him out from your emotional thoughts, maybe he wouldn’t be pulling on your weakness for what seems like the thousandth time.
Cedri huffs in your mind, the sound of amusement reverberating from your bond. You may have tried to move on, but that didn’t stop the fact that you still had feelings for Xaden that were more than just caring if he was alive.
“What’s got you huffing?” Bodhi asks from your other side, amusement laced in his tone.
“Oh, just a nosy dragon commenting on my internal thoughts.” You chime back at him, letting out another sigh before you let your head drop to Bodhi’s shoulder enjoying the quiet night with sparkling stars.
In the absence of Xaden, you had gotten closer to Bodhi, especially since he was now in your squad, and you were still spending a good amount of time with your squad members. It was perfectly ridiculous you thought. Of course, you would now be extremely close friends with the cousin of the man that seemed to still haunt you.
Though it was a perfect distraction for you both. Bodhi had told you that the time he spent with Xaden had significantly diminished since War Games had begun. You had begun a new routine with him helping you train after dinner for an hour almost every night. Even Garrick would join in whenever he was available and needed to blow off some steam.
It was one of those sparring nights when you found yourself laying on the mat trying to regain your breath after a spar with Garrick. You couldn’t keep the smile from your face and the contagious laugh that broke out as you and Bodhi had been teasing Garrick about his obvious interest in Imogen.
You were so caught up in your enjoyment that you didn’t even hear the door to the gym open. Therefore, it was even more surprising when you sat up from the mat and ended up looking directly back into those onyx eyes you hadn’t had the courage to meet in some time.
The laughter immediately died from your lips, and you found yourself getting up and turning towards the girl’s locker rooms.
“I’ll see you boys tomorrow.” You threw over your shoulder to your two sparring partners.
You hadn’t even taken two steps before you felt a hand close around your wrist. You immediately knew who it was, with the memories of those calloused hands flashing brightly in your mind. Your heart began to race, and you battled with yourself if you really wanted to turn around and face the man that had a hold on your wrist.
Deciding on trying to save yourself from spiraling, you gently tugged on your hand hoping that he would just let it drop. Unfortunately for you, it didn’t seem like Xaden was in the mood to acquiesce to your wants.
You turned around to face the man that you had been studiously avoiding for the last five months and looked at your hand where he still had his wrapped around your wrist. You kept your eyes trained down, not wanting to look up and see what exactly was in Xaden’s inner monologue of his eyes. You could have kept it that way until he decided he was going to speak.
“Look at me, please.” He asked, his voice quieter than you had ever heard it before.
It was then you noticed that the gym was empty as Bodhi and Garrick must’ve been given an order to leave. Knowing that there was no way to avoid him, you slowly moved your eyes towards his onyx ones. As soon as you met them, you knew that it was a mistake to look.
There was no denying that there was a sadness etched in the look he was giving you. But that wasn’t the only thing, at least that’s what you thought, it seemed you saw a look of love and regret behind those eyes. You couldn’t help the absolute disbelief that crossed your mind. There was no way this man, who was obviously so interested in someone else really wanted you.
Feeling the conviction of your certainty that you no longer held the heart of the man in front of you, you finally found the courage to speak.
“What do you want from me Xaden?” You asked with an edge of exasperation in your voice and a tired sigh leaving your lips.
For a moment you felt regret for the flinch that you couldn’t avoid seeing as he took in your words. But why were you supposed to feel guilty when he was the one who broke your heart.
“I want to talk to you about everything. I need you to be part of my life. Please let me explain.” He starts.
You continue to stare at him trying to take in his words, but everything around you still seems to crumble.
“I may have believed that before I saw you kiss her, Xaden. And I know from your own friends that it’s gone further now. There’s no need for me to be put in the middle of your seemingly budding relationship.” You say but you can’t help the hurt that comes through your voice.
You feel the sting of tears gathering in your eyes and drop your face once more not wanting him to know that the betrayal still affects you this way. You go to pull your hand away, but you feel a strong grip pull you forward, and he crushes you to his chest in an embrace.
“Please don’t.” You whisper trying desperately to hold back your tears while your body stiffens. Without ever meeting his gaze again, you push against his chest, and you feel his arms reluctantly let you go. You turn around and walk out of the gym with your head down.
As you trudge your way back to your room, you’re shocked to find Garrick standing by your door.
“Hey.” He says softly looking at you with nothing but understanding in his eyes.
“I’m not in the right frame of my mind to entertain anyone Gare.” You say trying to hide the tremble of emotions in your voice.
“I know. I’m not here for you to entertain me. I just wanted to make sure you are okay.” He says quietly.
You look up to see him looking at you with nothing but sadness and a sincerity to help. He opens his arms seeming to know you need someone to lean on, and you walk straight into them.
He doesn’t even get the door to your room closed before you are sagging in his arms letting the tears flow freely. You know that you don’t usually show emotions like this, especially in front of the guys, but you’re tired of putting up a strong front. If just for tonight.
You don’t know how long you sit there on the floor of your room, the tears flowing freely while Garrick rocks you in his arms, but eventually your tears seem to dry up and exhaustion starts to claim you. With help from Garrick, you make your way to the bed.
“Thank you, Gare.” You whisper to him as your eyes fall closed and the exhaustion claims you.
After that night, it seemed both you and Xaden avoided each other and never found yourselves alone in a room again. Soon you knew he would be leaving for his outpost as a new Lieutenant, and you wouldn’t have to look around for him anymore.
Unfortunately for you, the night of graduation wasn’t to be one for celebrating for you. As you stood in the courtyard after you had said your goodbyes to Garrick, you had to watch as Xaden was walked to the flight field by Violet. For a moment, you caught each other’s eyes, and you could feel yourself drowning in his dark eyes.
You saw Violet saying something to him, but he never seemed to tear his gaze away from you. Not wanting to cause any issues in their relationship, you dropped your gaze and proceeded to walk to your room.
‘Do not worry yourself Stormy One. You will get even stronger this year and will be ready to take on the next challenge.’ Cedri encourages you.
‘I just hope if I make it to graduation, I won’t have to be stationed with him. I don’t want to watch their relationship while fighting this war.’ You say to Cedri, even though you know you are drowning in your own self-pity tonight.
You fling yourself down on your bed and pray that sleep will take you without any nightmares.
As the months flew by, you threw yourself into classes and learning runes. If there was one thing you would always be thankful to Xaden for, it would be teaching you Tyrrish culture. You always found it fascinating to learn everything you could about each of the different provinces.
One night while practicing runes with Bodhi in your room, there was a knock at your door. You figured that it must be one of your squad mates looking for help on some homework, but your eyes flew wide at the person standing on the other side of the door.
Xaden.
You stared back at him not really believing that he was standing there in front of you. Wasn’t he supposed to be at his station? Why was he in Basgiath? And even more confusingly, why was he knocking on your door?
Before your mind goes into too many directions, your brain clicks back into gear, and you realize he must be here for Sgaeyl to visit Tairn. And he must be here looking for Bodhi.
“I believe someone is here for you Bodhi.” You say and turn to go back and sit on your bed. You return to the more complicated fabric runes that you had been working on and try to distract yourself. However, after a few seconds, you realize that you hadn’t heard your door click.
You look up to see Xaden staring at you his eyes moving from your hands where the fabric lies, up to your face. It seems he can’t help the small smile that makes the left side of his mouth tick upwards and the slight crinkle to his eyes, a look of happiness dancing in his gaze.
You are both cut short in your staring when Bodhi clears his throat as he walks up to meet his cousin at your door.
“Come on cousin. We can talk in my room.” Bodhi says as he moves past Xaden and begins to close the door behind him. You watch as Bodhi pulls at Xaden’s flight jacket sleeve before the door clicks and your view is obscured.
You can’t help the deep breath that leave your lungs as soon as you hear the lock slide back into place. How long had it been since you had seen him? You try not to think about the fact that the man still makes your heart race just by looking at you. And just about makes you faint when he deigns to give up one of his true smiles.
“Ugh. Get. It. Together.” You breathe out in frustration and correct yourself. You can only think how grateful you will be to finally get out of Basgiath and hopefully never have to lay eyes on this man that seems stuck in your soul ever again.
Not even two days later, you wake with a pounding headache and an uncertainty in where the hell you are. The last thing you remember, you were heading to the bathing chamber after a day of training with Bodhi. Both of you laughing at an inside joke between the two of you from your first year.
And then the memory clicks, of cloth covering your mouth while strong arms wrapped around your torso. Before succumbing to the substance on the cloth, your vision was blackened with a black cloth bag that was thrown over your head.
You look around at the sight and think you must be back in your second year again and having to take part in RSC again. Then you remember, you’re a third year.
Before your mind can continue to catch up, you hear the door behind you click open. You hear boots click on the floor coming closer and closer to you before a figure stops in front of you.
Varrish.
Your heart rate begins to pick up. Why the hell were you being interrogated? Why would Varrish be handling it? You hadn’t done anything reckless in weeks that you can remember. You certainly hadn’t done anything to break the codex.
“Welcome back to the land of the living, for now at least.” Varrish spits at you while looking down at your restrained body.
“Why the hell am I being retained Vice Commandant?” You question, though you can’t help the disgust in the tone that leaves your lips.
“Ah, you did not do anything. However, you’re instrumental in getting the person we need back to Basgiath.” He continues venomously.
You can’t help the look of confusion that must be all over your face. Who would come back to Basgiath for you? You weren’t from a family of riders. Most of them were just regular civilians living their lives. You were the only one in your family that felt the call to come to Basgiath, let alone become a dragon rider. Who did the Vice Commandant feel would come to rescue you?
Your look of confusion must have entertained Varrish as you watch a slimey smile cross his face, followed by a sneer of disgust painting your features.
“Oh, I believe you are aware of the Lieutenant that I speak of cadet.” He drawls, continuing his manic pacing in front of you.
At that statement, the facts in your mind finally arrange themselves. For some reason, Varrish thinks Xaden will come back to Basgiath for you.
The look of disbelief that flashes in your face is followed by one of resignation. You’re going to die here. The repulsive man in front of you is going to torture and kill you and you can’t even stop him. Xaden is not coming to rescue you. He would never threaten everything for you. He has other priorities now. You’re just going to be another name on the death rolls.
The resignation hits you, along with the acceptance that you cannot break. You cannot betray Xaden, Bodhi, Garrick or any of your other marked friends, whether or not you were still part of their lives.
“You’re in for a surprise if you expect him to come here.” You spit out along with the blood that has continued to fill your mouth after the right hook to your face from Varrish.
“I’m not the one that will help you accomplish your goals; I believe you’re looking for a Cadet Sorrengail.” You continue even though every word causes pain to crash across your now broken jaw.
“And I think you are mistaken cadet. The cadre has noticed more than once the feelings Lieutenant Riorson seems to harbor for you.” Varrish spits back out crouching down and getting into your face.
“Besides, Cadet Sorrengail has not returned to Basgiath since her group of traitors stole from the Archives. Although, I will say we didn’t expect this much of a fuss from your dragon.” He snarks as he gets closer to your face. His putrid breath mingling with the damp smell from the holding cell and the fresh scent of your blood. Why did it seem like this was something they had planned all along?
Your breath catches at the mention of Cedri, you let a thought you hope he can hear cross your mind.
‘Thank you for being my dragon, Cedri. It has been an honor to be your rider. Please promise me you’ll live and find another worthy rider.’
You close your eyes and let your head fall back onto the hard wood of the chair you’ve been strapped to. You realize that the connection to Cedri has somehow been severed. They must’ve drugged you with the new concoction you had heard the second year’s talking about.
Time seems to slow and even though you have accepted your fate, you can’t stop the excruciating pain that’s continually inflicted on your body.
Gods how many days have I been in here.
The only thing you could do now was hold onto the last good memories you had and hope that your body would give up soon.
It wasn’t helping that Varrish and his posse kept bringing up Xaden and opening up the wound that never seemed to heal from lost love. Couldn’t he just leave the one person that was an open wound out of the salt he continued to pour over your body in the form of kicks, punches, and broken bones. The physical pain was one thing you could handle, but the emotional torture seemed to be toying with your mind even more.
As you fade in and out of consciousness after enduring another day of torture, you can hear voices outside of the door to the chamber you’ve been held in.
“We’ll need to move her tonight. The cadets looking for her are getting closer and we can’t punish them when we don’t have any ground on holding her here.” You hear a distinctly female voice comment.
“Of course, we have ground. I’m the Vice Commandant. I punish cadets as I see fit and this cadet is more than deserving of punishment.” You can hear Varrish spit to whoever the other voice belongs to.
You can’t help the small light that ignites in your chest when you hear that at least someone at Basgiath has realized you are missing and is trying to get to you. The thought is short lived when the door swings back open and a black cloth bag is forced back over your head.
You would scream. You would try to kick and punch. You would cry. But they’ve nearly torn all the emotions and reactions that you have in your body from you. You are exhausted. The small fire that someone is looking for you disappears when you feel your broken body being picked up and tossed over a shoulder.
Suddenly you feel the temperatures around you are plummeting even colder. The slight dampness of the cell you were contained in before was nothing compared to the water you hear now steadily dripping somewhere onto a stone floor. The scent of muddy earth and moss intensifies as you feel the person continue down steps.
You find yourself numb. This must finally be where I die you think. No one is going to find you this far down beneath, what you think is the fortress of Basgiath.
How far down are you even? The frigid temperatures don’t help you when you feel yourself start to shiver, but it takes everything not to break down in sobs at the pain radiating from the shivers. You feel yourself getting tired. You don’t even think you can remember what the sun on your face feels like.
You take a deep breath trying to calm the tightness that seems to be pulling in your chest. How much longer until you finally welcome me home, Malek? You can’t help but think as your vision begins to blacken from the blood that still seems to be pouring from the wound in your side.
Gods. How many times will they make you do this before they just kill you. At this point, you can only feel that death would be a mercy.
Time begins to slip by again, torture, mending, more torture, more mending. You’re unsure of how many more times you have been tossed around as they move you from different areas so no one could find you, even if they tried.
You are again by yourself in the dark. Your left eye has completely swollen shut from this morning’s punch to your eye socket. Your right eye isn’t much better, they must’ve shattered your cheekbone when hitting you with the iron cuff across your face this morning. But the worst pain must be the bleeding gash that has been torn across your abdomen. You can feel the wound still seeping blood as you take shallow breaths that seem not to be enough to keep your lungs functioning.
This is finally it. You think to yourself, hoping that you can finally have the peace of blissful sleep as you slip into Malek’s arms.
Suddenly you hear a commotion, the room you are in seems somehow to get even darker. You try to hold on, but oblivion seems to keep pulling at your consciousness. You hear distant voices, but you can’t make out the words they are saying.
As you feel your head rolling back and your vision completely blacken, you hear the door bang open. You don’t even try to open your eyes as you know the only thing that the noise could possibly be is more torture heading your way. But before you completely lose consciousness, you could swear you hear a masculine voice breathe out your name in rage and panic.
______________________________________________________________
You never thought death would have a smell. And you can’t help at the sarcastic huff that you think when you realize the smell is just like Xaden. Distinctly mint and leather. Why would Malek want to torture you for eternity? What great sin were you paying for?
You didn’t ever think that in death you’d be able to feel things either. You move your fingers slightly and are shocked to feel what seems to be soft sheets enveloping you. Its then that you realize that you still feel the haze of pain over your body.
This must not be death. They only mended me again.
You can’t help the disappointment you feel that you haven’t been set free from the chains of the torture you’ve been enduring. But confusion causes you to crease your eyebrows when you realize there is glorious sunlight dusting your eyelids.
You slowly try to flutter your eyes open and are greeted with an even more shocking sight. You are in a bedroom, not in a damp cell any longer. You try to move your body, but you feel as if everything is still broken. So instead, you turn your head to the side and can’t help the breath that gets caught in your throat.
There, in the chair next to the bed you’ve been placed in, is Xaden. His head is resting on his hand at an uncomfortable angle, but the thing that shocks you is the way his eyes seem puffy and red rimmed as if he had been crying. You follow the rest of his body and find that he also has his other hand draped on the side of the bed that was almost touching your hand.
You continue to take him in a few more minutes, before he begins to stir and shift positions in the chair he is in. You watch as he begins to bring his head up, your heart rate begins to race at the thought of your eyes meeting his onyx ones.
Finally, his gaze meets yours and you watch as his eyes widen comically before he is soaring from the chair and moving to the side of your bed and grabbing for your hand.
“Y/N.” He says breathlessly, as if he thought he’d never be able to say your name again.
He continues to stare at you wide-eyed, though you notice the purple that is smudged underneath his eyes.
You continue to take in his rumpled form. From his hair that is completely disheveled to the sunken in look to his swollen eyes, this is a Xaden Riorson that you never thought you would see. He looks lost, shaken, and completely ready to fall apart.
As the shock of everything begins to wear off, you start trying to push yourself from the bed. Before you can even sit up completely, your whole-body sags and you fall back into the mattress. An irritated grunt leaves you lips, but Xaden is worriedly moving closer trying to coax you to lay back down.
“Don’t try to move too much. Your body is still healing.” He rasps out. His voice sounding gravelly from disuse and emotion.
He goes to move closer to you, but you flinch when you feel him coming closer at a rate that seems too fast. He sees and immediately tenses up. You look at him with sorrow in your eyes.
“I’m sorry. I – I’m – it’s just...” You trail off not really knowing how to voice the fact that you’re scared, although you know that Xaden would never hurt you. Your voice is dry, and you try to swallow to help coat your vocal cords.
You bring your hand up to your neck and gingerly touch it, remembering the feeling of someone choking you until you couldn’t breathe and were about to black out.
You can see the absolute sorrow that passes across Xaden’s face, but there’s also a look of absolute rage that flickers behind it.
“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He says while moving back to sit next to where your hand is. You watch as the man you know as so confident, seems to fiddle not knowing where to go or how to proceed.
If it weren’t for the fact of what you’d been enduring, you would find the sight of Xaden being insecure as endearing.
“Would you like some water?” Xaden asks hesitantly, now seeming like he doesn’t want to scare you too much.
As you go to respond, your mouth feels too dry, so you shake your head in confirmation. You watch as Xaden slowly rises from the bed and grabs the cup of water on the nightstand not far from you. You try to sit up again but hiss in pain when you try to bend your abdomen.
You look down to see an angry scar running across your stomach that looks to have been mended a few times. Before you can try again, you feel two strong hands lift you from you shoulders and set you up against the headboard.
“Thank you.” You rasp out before gingerly taking the glass of water from Xaden’s hand. You bring the glass to your lips and close your eyes as you take a drink of clean water. It’s impossible for you to remember the last time you even had a drink of water, causing you to furrow your brows trying to figure out the day.
You finally bring the glass down and look back up at the man perched on the side of the bed. You realize he’s been watching you carefully, seeming to try and take in every feature of yours that he can.
“Do you know how long I was held?” You choke out. Hoping that your voice doesn’t give away the fear that is still in your bones at being held captive again.
You watch as Xaden’s face becomes even more sunken in, as if he is hating himself for some reason.
“They had you for seven days.” He chokes out, not being able to hide the emotion taking over his voice. He takes a moment to settle before continuing.
“Bodhi got word to me by the second day, but I wasn’t able to get to you immediately.” You see the wetness that is starting to pool in his eyes. “I’m so fucking sorry. You don’t know what it felt like knowing you were there, and I couldn’t get to you.”
You watch as Xaden tries as hard as he can, but he can’t stop the few tears that seem to escape from his eyes.
“It wasn’t your fault, Xaden.” You tell him, looking down as you don’t want to break yourself from all the emotions he’s shown today.
You feel him scoot closer on the bed and the next thing you realize; your hands are in his. It feels surreal to have someone else touching you and not causing you pain. You do everything you can to not completely tense every fiber of your body. It’s as if he can read your hesitance and he begins to softly stroke his thumbs over your knuckles.
The action that is so achingly familiar causes you to close your eyes in comfort before looking up at him sadly. You try to hide the sad smile that steals across your face, but you can’t hide it when you find him bringing his hand to your chin to tip up your face.
“It is my fault. Those fuckers were looking for me and used you as godsdamned bait. They deserved more pain than what they were given.” He says and you can feel the rage that crawls into his voice as if it is a living, breathing thing.
“Are – are they still alive?” You ask, your voice sounding small and afraid.
He tilts your chin up to him and holds it firmly in place looking at you directly in your eyes.
“No.” He says firmly, without hesitation. “They are all fucking dead. But, if I could kill them again, I would.”
You feel your body sag in relief at the news that those who inflicted all this pain are no longer alive. You feel two hot tears slide from the side of your eyes unbidden. You watch as Xaden brings up a hand to wipe both of the tears from your eyes.
You take in the feeling that you are something precious to the man in front of you, relishing in the attention before you know you will need to give it up.
“Thank you for saving me. I’m not sure how much longer I would have lasted.” You say, knowing that your body was the closest to death you had ever felt.
“You shouldn’t be thanking me. You should hate me. If it wasn’t for the fact that you’ve been involved with me, that would’ve never happened to you.” He says getting frustrated with himself.
This time you stretch your hand to his face, and cup his cheek, running your thumb over his cheek.
“I could never hate you, Xaden.” You look at him with your eyes going soft. Even with everything you’d been through, you would never wish ill on him, knowing how much he has endured in his life.
You drop you hand from his face and bring it back to your side. You feel exhaustion pulling you back down, knowing that your body is still healing. Not wanting to be more of a burden than necessary, you scoot back under the covers and bring the blankets back up.
Looking back at Xaden and knowing him sitting here blaming himself is keeping him from his happiness, you can’t help the words out of your mouth.
“You can leave Xaden. You don’t have to babysit me, I’ll be alright.” You say even though the statement lances sorrow through your heart.
He looks back at you and his brows knit. “I’m not here to babysit you. I’m here because I want to make sure you’re alright. I’m here because I care about you.” He says going to grab your hand again.
Right before you are about to respond to him, the door pushes open and the sight before you makes every thought you had seconds ago crumble. Standing in the doorway is the silver-haired girl that started the whole mess you find yourself in now.
Weariness now settles over your bones, and you turn you face away from the man that used to be your whole world. You turn to your side and close your eyes, hoping beyond hope that if you sleep, you will wake and the last week or so will be just a bad nightmare.
You hear Xaden let out a long sigh and feel as the bed springs back up as his weight leaves it. You hear the door click shut and let out a ragged breath.
Before you finally drift back into unconsciousness, you hear voices outside the door.
“What do you need Violet? I thought I asked you not to come up here unless necessary.” You hear Xaden reply tersely.
“I’m sorry Xaden. But the Assembly asked me to come and get you. They are having a strategy meeting and requested you to be there.” You hear Violet explain.
“Couldn’t you have just asked through the bond?” He says with an annoyed edge to his tone.
“Well, I would have, but you’ve had me blocked out mostly since you’ve returned from Basgiath five days ago.” You hear her reply curtly.
Your mind not waiting to hear any more of the conversation, shuts off and you find yourself drifting back into unconsciousness.
Weeks pass and you’ve found yourself trying to get back to your previous strength. It’s been weeks of light training with Bodhi and Garrick, along with nights that haunt you. Trying to gather some sort of strength from everything they had taken from you.
The next thing you know, it’s just another night where you find yourself awoken by the feeling of a hand clamping around your throat and feel the phantom pain of a sword ghosting across your abdomen.
You awake with a start, sweat covering your entire body, your heart beating erratically. Luckily, you were smart enough to put a sound shield on the room you’ve been staying in, because your throat is hoarse from the scream that just tore from it.
After what seems like an eternity, your heartbeat begins to slow, and you can take full breaths once more.
Knowing that sleep won’t be finding you again any time soon, you wrap yourself in your flight jacket and close the door to your room softly behind you.
As you descend the stairs from your room, you find yourself walking towards the hills that surround the fortress. Without questioning your steps, you continue up to one that you think will have an excellent view of the sunrise.
You smile slightly to yourself when the memory of watching the stars until sunrise with Xaden crosses your mind. You thought that being in Riorson House would feel stifling, like you couldn’t escape the aura of Xaden. But, for some reason you don’t understand, the fortress feels like a warm blanket that can shield you from all the horrors that you’ve had to deal with since arriving at Basgiath.
When you make it to the top of the hill, you can’t help the small gasp that tears from your lips at the beautiful view before you. Sinking down next to one of the large trees, you look over the small town that has been rebuilt below you and take everything in with awe.
You always knew that Xaden and the other marked ones loved their homes, but it warmed your heart to see the work that they had put into helping others begin to put their lives back together.
You take a deep breath and lean your head back against the tree, closing your eyes and enjoying the quiet sounds of the early morning. You’ll never take for granted the life around you, even though winter is coming, and the sounds are quieter, not after being held in that cell and being deprived of the world.
As you sit there in the stillness and enjoy the quiet, you feel your body begin to want to drift off, but the pop of a branch breaking brings you out of your calm.
Quickly turning and jumping to your feet with your heart racing, you are surprised to see a familiar face staring back at you.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.” He says, his eyes sad and tone quiet.
“It’s alright. I – I’m still getting used to real life.” You say as you drop your eyes feeling ashamed for being scared of such small things.
While your gaze is down, you hear footsteps as they cautiously come towards you until two booted feet are standing inches away. A hand comes up and three fingers gently bring your chin up to look into two onyx eyes.
You don’t know why, but you can’t seem to tear your eyes away from his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, seeming to search for something.
“You shouldn’t feel ashamed for being afraid.” He says as his thumb strokes your cheek. “You’ve been through a lot. I just hope that you feel safe here.”
“I hope that you feel cared for.” He continues, although his words seem slightly hesitant.
You give him a small smile, knowing that if it wasn’t for the man before you, you wouldn’t be able to enjoy the small things anymore.
It’s as if that small gesture opens a dam for him and before you really can think his hand is cradling the back of your head to his chest and his other arm is snaked around your waist holding you close to him.
You hear as he gives a small huff of a laugh before speaking. “Leave it to you to find the one spot in Aretia that’s incredibly special to me.” He begins.
You pull your head back slightly to look back at him and raise an eyebrow.
“What do you mean ‘leave it to me’?” You ask.
He looks down at you, his eyes softening although he hasn’t let go of your waist.
“You were always the one to figure out things I tried to hide, no matter how well I thought they were hidden.” He explains while giving you a small smile.
With that action and those words, you can’t control the smile that steals across your face and the way your eyes crinkle. One of the things about your relationship you always enjoyed was the small gestures and emotions he gave only to you.
After a few moments of silence, Xaden breaks the quiet.
“Will you please let me explain everything to you? Please.” He says while now going to cup your face.
“You can decide what you want to do from there, but I need you to listen. Please. I miss you so fucking much.” He begs while letting the longing and sadness he’s feeling leach into his voice.
The smile falls from your face, but you know that there is no way to completely avoid him or this conversation forever at this point. You take a small step back, but you can’t go far because of the firm hold Xaden has on your face. You give a small nod.
“Okay.” You say in a whisper, not trusting your voice to get any louder.
The strange rush of relief that crosses his face makes your heart beat a little faster. He drops his hands from your face and threads his fingers through yours before tugging slightly to have you sit down next to him.
When you’re both seated against the trunk of the tree where you were watching the sunrise, you turn to him to see him already watching you. He still hasn’t let your hand go, before he begins.
“I’ve had more than enough time to ruminate on everything that has happened between us over almost the entire last year. And I will never be able to make up for all of the ways that I’ve failed you.” He starts as his face falls to your intertwined hands that he has now brought into his lap.
“I never once came to you to explain everything. It all started when Bodhi informed me that you had seen me kiss Violet.”
You don’t miss how he flinches at the revelation, though you’re unsure if it was because Bodhi told him or because he did it in the first place. With the painful reminder, your own heart falters again and you go to take your hand back, but he now has it held in a vice grip.
“I shouldn’t have brushed you off. I should never have gotten involved with Violet. The kiss was a mistake that happened when we both were overwhelmed with the bond of Sgaeyl and Tairn not shielding. I know that doesn’t make it alright, that nothing ever will, but I want you to know that I’ll never forgive myself for that even happening. Especially when you were still the person I was thinking about.”
It's shocking to you how much of a dam that he must’ve been holding in because he can’t seem to stop talking. The next thing you know, he is explaining that both he and Violet got further involved because they were both trying to move past their previous relationships. Him with the reminder of you and everything that he had lost. And she with a relationship that she thought was always going to be part of her life.
As you listened, you realize that you both were just living in the hurt that you both inflicted on each other. Him for not realizing how much he had begun to pull away and not show the attention you deserved and you for not going to him and explaining how you were feeling.
As he continued to fill you in on everything that has been happening in the past few months, you lean your head back on the tree and close your eyes taking in all the information. Soon enough, your ears are greeted by silence, and you pick your head up and open your eyes.
You turn to see Xaden staring at you seeming to take in your full form as if he’s a man that has been denied water for numerous days. He finally looks back into your eyes and all you see is a burning fight in them, as if he would never be able to part from you.
“Do you think you can find it in your heart to forgive me?” He asks hesitantly as if he is afraid of the actual answer.
You look back at him and of course your heart breaks looking at the hurt look on his face and the way he is so tentative with you. However, you know that it can’t just be that easy for either of you.
“I think maybe we could get there.” You say, your voice small as your own uncertainty shines through.
You watch as his face crumples and sadness takes over the hopeful expression he had. Though it doesn’t stay around long. Soon enough, he sets his face in determination and looks back at you again.
“Okay – Alright. I can work with that.” He says, setting his jaw as if he is getting ready for battle.
He gets up and reaches his hand out for you. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s go get some breakfast.”
You take his hand, and he intertwines your fingers again, slowly guiding you back down the hill towards the fortress of Riorson House.
Before you break through the doors, he turns to you, and you almost run right into his chest at the rate you had been following behind. His arm jets out to grab your waist and steady you before speaking.
“Will you train with me?” He questions looking at you with expectant eyes.
“Sure.” You say with a slight hesitance.
A smile breaks out over his face, and he brings your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles. Your eyes blow wide at the gesture, but he’s walking through the doors and pulling you with him again.
The next thing you know another month has passed and you can feel yourself finally feeling stronger again. Not to mention your friendship with Xaden has been growing stronger day by day.
You start enjoying his company again and begin sitting with him and all his family during dinners, enjoying talking and laughing together.
One night, you find yourself on the mats stretching, waiting to see who the sparring partner that will join you today will be.
Soon enough, Garrick comes strolling through the door one of his charming grins plastered over his face. You give him a quick smile as you continue your stretching.
“Ready for a fight?” He quips.
“Of course.” You sass back at him.
“Well, you should be resting comfortably at least. You know since you have the biggest room in this damn house.” He jokes.
Your brows furrow in confusion as you pick up your head to look over at your friend.
“What are you talking about? Why would I have the biggest room?” You ask in confusion.
“You mean to tell me you never noticed how much larger the room you’re in is compared to the rest of ours?”
You start to think about all the times that you’ve been in your friends’ rooms, especially those close to Xaden. All the rooms seemed spacious enough, but you had never realized how large yours was until now.
“Why the hell would I have the biggest room? Shouldn’t Xaden? It’s his house.” You say confused.
You quirk your eyebrows when Garrick begins to laugh heartily and looks at you as if you haven’t realized what you’ve said.
“He does have the largest room. He just hasn’t been staying in it.” Garrick explains.
Your brows stay furrowed for a few more seconds before realization dawns and your eyes widen in shock.
“Why the hell would Xaden give me his room?” You ask in shock and confusion.
“You should know the answer to that question.” He says back to you with a pointed look before continuing.
“You should know by now how madly in love that man is with you. When we finally were able to get to you and bring you back…” He starts while shaking his head seeming to recount the memory. “I’ve never seen him so crazed. Between the fact that it took days to make a plan and execute it so we could get to that room without too much resistance. Then getting you back to Riorson House, and you being so broken. I’ve never seen him like that. He wouldn’t even leave your side while Brennan mended you.”
You sit there staring at your friend as he continues to recount the story.
“If it wasn’t for the fact that he had to go to some Assembly meetings, he wouldn’t have left that room until you woke up. We had to almost spoon feed him and drag him to any meetings he was required at. Even then, he made Violet stay in the room with you while he was gone, because she can communicate with him directly. He wouldn’t let us do it because we couldn’t get information to him immediately.”
You shake your head slightly and drop your head. You can’t believe that you didn’t even know any of that, let alone realize you had taken over Xaden’s room.
Before you can get yourself together, you see the doors of the sparring gym swing open again and Xaden walk in. You see him look up at you and smile, until he sees the look on your face. He seems to speed up the pace of his walk before he’s standing in front of you and Garrick.
“What?” He says with concern laced in his tone, looking down at you. “What’s the matter?”
You see Garrick look between the two of you and he smirks slightly before starting to walk away.
“I think I’ll take my leave for right now.” Garrick says amusedly.
You and Xaden watch as Garrick walks to the door, and it swings shut behind him. Xaden turns his head back to you and looks you in the eyes, concern still laced in his features.
“What happened?”
“Why am I staying in your room Xaden?” You ask, pure curiosity in your voice.
You watch as his eyes widen, and his looks turn sheepish. He looks down at his feet and you’re shocked to see this intimidating man looking as if he was caught red handed like a child stealing a slice of chocolate cake.
“I – uh – wanted you to be comfortable.” He says, although you can sense there is something else he isn’t saying.
“Uh huh. Comfortable? And why exactly wouldn’t I have been comfortable in one of the other bedrooms of Riorson House?” You challenge, enjoying it too much when you see a flush grace the cheeks of Xaden Riorson.
“Well – I mean – You would’ve been. But �� “He continues stammering.
“But what Riorson?” You continue, enjoying putting him on edge.
Your relationship has been getting stronger and Xaden has done nothing but prove himself day in and out. It’s with that knowledge you find yourself feeling a new sense of bravado, especially when you already have him off kilter.
As the conversation has continued, you’ve slowly been bringing yourself closer to him. As he continues to look back at you sheepishly, you bring your hand and place it on his chest. You watch as the move continues to rattle him, and he swallows thickly.
With a mischievous smirk sneaking across your face, you leave rationale behind and continue to rise on your toes and place your lips to his. You keep your eyes open, just to watch his reaction and what you see makes you smile into the kiss.
First his eyes blow wide in shock and his body tenses, before you feel his arms snake around your waist and pull you flush against his chest. The next thing you know, his eyes have closed, and the kiss has turned into one of pure desperation. You follow, closing your eyes, as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and spear your fingers through the hair at the back of his neck.
The kiss feels like a mix of new excitement and coming home. Too soon, you feel him slowing down the kiss and pulling back slightly. He places his forehead against yours and tries to catch his breath, his gaze boring into your eyes, searching for an answer to a question he hasn’t voiced.
“What does this mean?” He asks breathlessly, before rushing to continue. “Please know I don’t expect anything, not after everything I put you through. But if there is any chance at all for you to be mine again, please know that I will not waste it.”
You stare straight into his eyes, searching to see if his words are the truth. Not seeing anything in his gaze but pure hope, you smile at him.
“I’m yours.” You say to him and watch the most blindingly perfect smile spreads across his whole face.
Not even a second later, you feel yourself being picked up and swung around in a tight hug. Xaden hasn’t even put you down before he’s crashing his lips back into yours, the smile he was wearing still tearing at his lips.
“I promise that even though I may still piss you off and be an ass at times, I’ll never let what happened between us ever happen again. You’re mine, and I’m never letting you go, never again.” He declares after you both finally pull apart.
“Come on.” He says, pulling you by your hand.
“Where are we going? I thought we were training?” You say all while laughing at the antics of the man pulling you along.
“Fuck training. We’re going to watch the sunset on my favorite hill and I’m not letting you go for one minute.” He says as he continues to pull you through Riorson House to the doors.
At that point, a smile of pure happiness settles across your face as you follow the man that has your heart out the door and into the endless possibilities that lie ahead.
As he rests against the trunk of the tree with you wrapped in his arms against his chest and his head nuzzled in your hair, you can’t help but think this may be the most beautiful sunset you’ve ever seen.
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LITTLE WITCH, FIC — xaden riorson x reader.
DESCRIPTION: you wake— a captive girl with untamed power and no recollection of its origins. before you is a scarred, shadowy figure, whose taunts ignite your abilities—binding your fates in a dangerous encounter. NOTES - fourth wing fic!! leave me all your thoughts and opinions. i love them <33 | next part
one;
“Wake her up.”
Water. Cold as ice, constricting your rigid bones like snakes coiling tighter with every stolen shiver.
A gasp tore from your throat, water spewing from your lungs as your body heaved against the jagged floor. Your eyes fluttered open, disjointed memories playing like a fragmented reel in your mind.
“Her power exceeds that of every living vernin on this planet!”
“Promise me you’ll fix this, darling.”
Promise me. Promise me. Promise me.
You blinked hard, but the image didn’t fade.
You were tied.
The rough ropes bit into your bony wrists, leaving searing, ring-like burns. Every labored movement set your nerves aflame. Your gaze darted upward, breath hitching as the world slowly came into focus.
A girl stood above you, silver-dipped hair framing a weary, glaring face. Beside her, a man with raven-black hair and a severe jaw hovered like a dark sentinel, his pale skin nearly glowing in the dim light.
And then there was him.
A scar slashed across one onyx eye, his expression cold and unreadable. Caramel skin adorned with swirling ink that climbed every visible inch of him. His presence suffocated the room, shadows pooling at his feet as if he commanded them.
You inhaled sharply.
“Do you think she speaks English?” the girl asked, her voice wary.
Your wide eyes locked onto her as you pulled against your restraints, panic rising. The three of them stepped back in weary unison.
“Be calm.” His voice—low, smooth, commanding—cooed like a bird singing a song only you could dance to. It scraped against the fragile walls of your resolve, but you clung to the shreds of your sanity.
Your eyes darted around, desperate to piece together this fractured reality. You tried to speak, tried to form an identity, but your name—your very sense of self—slipped through your fingers like quicksand.
“You have me tied,” you rasped, the words tasting foreign in your mouth.
Another synchronized step back.
“Xaden…” the silver-haired girl’s voice was cautious, her eyes glassy with an emotion you couldn’t yet name. But it was fervent, pulsing. You could sense it.
Lust. Love. Betrayal.
The man�� Xaden’s jaw ticked, his gaze piercing as it lingered on you.
“We’ve already discussed this,” he said, his voice devoid of hostility but heavy with finality. “Take her, Garrick. I’ll handle the girl.”
She only bristled at his words, her arms crossing tightly over her chest. “You lost the right to give me orders when you—”
“I’m well aware, Violence.” His voice cracked with strain, the facade of calm splintering for just a moment.
The girl—Violence—swayed slightly, but her resistance faltered. With a deep, resigned exhale, Garrick gently guided her out of the room.
And then it was just you.
As the door slammed shut, Xaden’s features transformed. The fleeting agony that had marred his face dissolved into a cold mask, his expression as unreadable as the void of shadows around him.
His gaze roamed over you, scrutinizing every inch with an intensity that made your skin crawl. When he was satisfied, he dropped to one knee before you, the motion deliberate and predatory.
“What’s your name?” he asked, his voice low, as if any louder would break you. As if you were a precious thing, needing to be preserved. And though he asked you for it, you had a fleeting sense that he already knew.
He was testing you.
Your trembling hands tugged at the ropes, panic stabbing through your mind. A flash of white burned behind your eyes—a memory.
A woman with electric blonde hair and a gaze colder than ice stared down at you. You were tied, gagged, and helpless.
“Shall I strike her again, General Sorrengail?”
The memory vanished as pain lanced through your wrists, the ropes burning like scorched iron. Your teary gaze met his, desperation clawing at your chest.
“Please untie me,” you begged, voice raw and jagged.
His head tilted slightly, but he didn’t so much as twitch. “I can’t do that.”
Your breath quickened, chest heaving as your head fell back against the pole that anchored you. The room blurred, warmth suddenly flooding your cheeks.
When your eyes snapped open, he was closer. His thumb brushed away the tears streaking your face, his touch surprisingly gentle. Shadows coiled tighter around you, suffocating yet oddly soothing.
“What’s your name?” he repeated, his thumb grazing your trembling lips as if trying to still them.
“I… I don’t remember,” you whispered.
His brows knit together, his silence heavier than words. For a moment, his gaze softened, as if he saw something tethered within you he’d searched to find for a millenia.
You’re coddling her.
A voice, unfamiliar and swelled with a power you found yourself connected to— it sounded throughout the confines of your mind. And then another voice. His voice.
Trust me, Sgaeyl.
And yet his lips did not move, set in a hard line. Perhaps you had a name, and the world had simply forgotten. Who gave any attention to the sick and mad? To those who had phantom voices roaming within the confines of their skull? Suddenly, like a curtain falling, his expression hardened again. He rose to his full, imposing height, towering over you like a specter.
“Get up,” he commanded, voice sharp enough to slice you in two.
“I’m tied,” you protested, voice trembling.
His eyes narrowed. “Get up and face me, and I’ll free you from all your binds.”
Hope fluttered in your chest, fragile and fleeting. You braced yourself, using the pole for support, and pushed. Your legs buckled instantly, sending you crashing back down.
Again.
And again.
By the eighth attempt, your knees were raw, your wrists throbbing, and your patience gone.
“You’re trying to humiliate me,” you hissed, glaring up at him.
“It seems to be working,” he said with a ghost of a smirk that made your blood boil.
Something stirred deep within you, a dormant fire roaring to life. His words, his condescension—they fed it like kindling to a flame.
“Aiming to embarrass ourselves today, are we?” he taunted, his voice dripping with mockery.
The fire ignited.
“Let me go.”
Your voice was guttural, commanding, a force that reverberated through the room like a shockwave.
And time stopped. Only for a moment, but even so. Still, not a life in sight daring to breathe. Sudden, suffocating, swelling.
Then over.
Xaden dropped to one knee, his hands moving to untie your restraints as if compelled by an unseen force. His breath hitched as the ropes fell away, but the closeness of him—the warmth of his hands against your bloodied wrists—froze you in place.
He leaned in, his forehead brushing against yours, his breath mingling with your own in a dangerous dance.
“Look at that… we’ve finally found you, little witch…” he murmured, his voice a dark promise.
And somehow, you knew him then. Even free from all memory, you knew well that whoever he was— he was just beginning to unravel you.
#xaden riorson fic#xaden riorson fanfic#xaden riorson smut#xaden riorson imagine#xaden riorson x reader#xaden x reader#fourth wing xaden#xadenviolet#violet and xaden#xaden riorson#xaden and sgaeyl#violet sorrengail#fourth wing fanfic#fourth wing#fourth wing x reader#onyx storm fanfic#onyx storm#iron flame fanfic#iron flame
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liam mairi x reader where he literally loses it during the torture chamber over seeing her hurt
pairing; liam mairi x fem!reader
warnings; torture lol, graphic depictions of violence and injury, liam is a little unhinged (as much as a golden retriever can be) and also the best bf ever. also xaddy makes an appearance <3
a/n; for argument's sake, liam is alive and well (also for my sake bc he's my baby and i adore him) this is a little different to the plot in the books as liam isn't *technically* there during the torture chamber scene, so this diverts from the original plot. this is gonna get like 4 whole notes but idgaf because liam is taking up my entire mind atm i just want that boy to smother me in love and i can kiss his perfect face<3
Knuckles crack against the already swollen expanse of your jaw and your neck whips sideways awkwardly as blood fills your gasping mouth. Your ears ring, vision beginning to blur and blacken at the edges as Liam roars.
You can't see him for the soldiers crowding your line of vision, but the guttural sound that rips its way from his throat is unlike anything you've ever heard before. It's raw, full of untethered fury that no one would expect from a kind soul like Liam. But, then again, no one's seen the lengths he will go to to keep you safe.
"I'm fine, Li," you murmur, neck cracking as you wrench your head upright to reassure him. The swarm of bodies part somewhat, and they back against the wall; you watch him thrash against the restraints, teeth bared like a predator; it's a stark juxtaposition to his usual - docile - countenance.
“Touch her again and I’ll kill you! I’ll fucking kill all of you!” he bellows, voice permeating the otherwise relatively silent chamber. It cuts through you like glass, and you wince as another blow collides with your cheekbone. You feel it shatter, growling through grit teeth at your attacker.
“You have all the power here,” he croons. “Tell us what we need to know, and I’ll let you go.”
“Fuck you,” you seethe. “You really think I’ll break that easily?”
He cracks his knuckles slowly, one by one echoing through the empty room as he paces, his head tilting curiously as though he's enraptured by your resilience. “No. But he will.”
Your nostrils flare, eyes darting to where Liam’s still struggling to break himself free. His eyes are dark, cerulean replaced with black onyx as the rage consumes him.
“You underestimate us,” you say simply; your chin juts out indignantly. “We’re not telling you shit.”
Your ribs are next to break with a sickening crunch, and when you scream, the sharp yell of your boyfriend takes up all the space left in your brain. It's all you hear, all you can decipher through the thick cotton wadded into your ears, the only thing you can manage past the searing flames that set your body alight with agony. Your lids start to droop, lips parting to croak something indiscernible; and Liam's begging, pleading with you to stay conscious, but even as you gaze up at him through sticky, tear-soaked lashes, the darkness wraps its cruel fingers around your throat and you can't fend it off.
You don't know how many days it's been when your eyes peel open, glued shut with sleep. Every nerve ending in your body ignites, set aflame with pure, unrelenting excruciation. Your chest heaves and the movement triggers another cataclysmic inferno; a sob claws its way from your throat almost involuntarily, your body relying purely on survival instincts.
Xaden's standing over you in an instant, a warm palm cradled against the curve of your jaw to keep you still when you shout and thrash, trying to rid yourself of the unyielding pain that courses through your veins like liquid fire.
"Shh, shh." He's doing his best to placate you, but you're manic, eyes wide and frantic as you attempt to orientate yourself in the room.
"Liam," you croak. "Where's Liam?"
"He's okay. He's fine. I need you to stay calm, okay?" A tear slips past your clogged waterline and runs over Xaden's knuckle, his thumb following its downward path to brush it away.
"I want Liam," you wheeze, a pain that transcends physicality blooming into your aching chest. "Please."
There's a scuffle and a flash of blonde before Liam is crouching at your side, a thick fingered hand anchoring against the top of your head.
"I'm right here, my girl. You didn't think I'd leave you alone, did you?"
You shake your head vehemently despite the throbbing in your temples, your own fingers looping around his wrist to keep him close, to keep him touching you.
"It hurts, Li," you whimper, and it's the first sign of true weakness he's seen you expose in this long, painful week. You're safe to fall apart now, safe with the knowledge that he'll help you put yourself back together.
"I know. We just need to get you fixed up and you'll feel better."
He tips forward on his toes to press his cheek to yours, and the warmth of his breath tickles at the shell of your ear. His face turns, nose squishing into the soft flesh of your cheek, lips puckered in a kiss against the corner of your mouth. You feel the scab, long dried over, and the groove in his lip where it's split; when he tilts his head sideways to watch you, your eyes fix on it.
"You're hurt," you sniffle. "It's my fault."
"Oh, this old thing?" He waves you off, flippant as the tip of his finger prods at the dried skin. "Doesn't even hurt, angel. Don't you worry about me."
"I do worry about you."
You use the little strength you have left to turn on your side, tuning out Liam's abrupt protests until there'e enough room for two on the bed. He knows what you want from no more than a pleading glance.
"I can't-" he starts, and the complaints die in his throat when your fingers dig into the worn fabric of his uniform.
"I need you," you admit. His shoulders slouch in defeat.
"You promise to go to sleep?"
He lifts your tender body, propping you against a muscular forearm as he slides beneath you, and settling you between two thick thighs, your back to his chest. His warmth seeps into your pores and he feels you sag, only succumbing to the exhaustion now you know he's safe.
Fingernails scratch at your scalp and dimples crater into the centre of his cheeks when your head tilts to nuzzle deeper into the touch. The flaring pain resides to a dull - but manageable - ache.
"I'm tired," you say, muffled.
"I know, my girl." You don't miss the thrum of his pulse, the way it picks up when he catches sight of the deep bruises that mar your skin, the swelling from broken bones. He's angry.
And he's going to make them pay for this.
#liam mairi x reader#liam mairi x you#liam mairi x y/n#fourth wing fanfic#fourth wing#liam mairi#liam x reader#liam x you#liam and xaden#liam fourth wing#fourth wing fic#fourth wing rebecca yarros#writer#writers on tumblr#writing#writing for fun#love letters#ily#iron flame#fourth wing fluff#fourth wing angst#liam mairi drabble#liam mairi fanfiction#liam mairi fic#liam mairi angst#liam mairi fluff#hurt/comfort#comfort fic#fluff writing#fluff with angst
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keep her safe - g.t.
Garrick Tavis x Marked!Pacifist!Reader This one is for my fellow tired, chronic pain girls who just want their suffering to serve some purpose, and those who trust everyone they meet, even if they shouldn’t. wc: 4.7k -- the longest work I've ever put on this blog! second chapter is here! 🏷: spoilers for both Fourth Wing books (I’m currently 500 pages into Iron Flame, and y’all... 😭) people refer to you with she/her pronouns, canon-typical violence and torture, mentions of canon character death / death of a family member, bad coping mechanisms, Dain and his memory reading (I tried to make him more tolerable), one (1) reference to sex, I gave you a last name (Avan) and Garrick calls you angel as a pet name, because I refuse to use y/n. Your dragon's name is Tab.
Your stomach drops as your name is called for a challenge. “No weapons today.” Emeterrio adds. “I want you to work on your hand-to-hand.”
The pair of you unsheath nearly a dozen knives apiece, you handing yours to Bodhi. Disarmed, you extend a hand to the boy, as is the Tyrrish tradition before a friendly spar, but he doesn’t take it. No unmarked ones ever have.
He charges first, tangles a hand in your hair and pulls, jerking your head back, and the crowd of freshmen gasp, but you plant your feet and move with him, twisting your spine with practiced ease.
That gives you enough distance to kick a leg out at his right knee, hitting him squarely in the back of it. He releases you. Another swift kick to his legs has them sweeping out from under him. You dig a thumb into his collarbone, finding just the right spot, and he crumples, giving you a split second to wrap your arm around his throat.
He claws at your elbow with blunt nails, wasting breath as he attempts to rise to his feet, but you keep him pinned with your body weight, bearing down as hard as you can. He bucks, and your left boot skids against the mat.
You bend your knee to brace yourself in a lunge. Your arm is starting to falter, he can feel the muscle straining around his jaw, but he’s tiring too — running out of air. If neither of you moves, he’s going to die.
“Enough,” Emeterrio commands.
You release him, extending a hand to pull him up, but he smacks it away and dives straight at you, clearly not done. “I’m not letting you off that easily, traitor.”
You squeak in surprise, your back hitting the mat with a thud, and he lands another blow to your jaw. You struggle to take control back, gasping for breath from how hard you’d hit the floor.
He gathers your wrists into one hand easily, the other closing around your throat.
“You are going to die on this mat if you don’t do something, now. Use the failsafe.”
There’s one dagger you hadn’t removed, that you’d won from Garrick in combat your first year, that he’d let you win, really, and promptly ordered that you never remove it from your reach, for situations like this.
He doesn’t have your legs pinned, so you kick out, catching him in the thigh, and his grip falters. You manage to wiggle one arm free to pull the blade from the inside of your jacket, rolling onto your side and holding the point millimeters away from his chest. “Yield,” you order, loud enough for everyone to hear.
“You won’t kill me,” He snarls. “Everyone knows you’re all bark and no bite. That’s why you keep him around.”
You drag it down, just enough to tear his shirt. “Yield, or you’ll meet Malek today and you can explain to him what a cheating coward you are.” The words surprise you, but you fight to maintain the hardened look on your face, trying to convince him you’re serious.
“Fine,” he spits, “I yield.”
Heart still pounding, you move to lean against the wall with the other marked ones, Bodhi handing you back your arsenal blade by blade.
“She cheated!” Jason protests as soon as he’s standing again.
“She did what was necessary after you defied a direct order from a superior officer,” Emeterrio says narrowly.
Jason glowers, but returns to his friends without further argument. The rest of the pack takes note of their faces; they’re likely as conniving as him, and as liable to try to kill you, too.
“I’m gonna end that motherfucker,” Garrick mutters, checking you over for injuries as subtly as he can. He hands you a scrap of cloth and you wipe the blood from your nose, wincing, but grateful it isn’t broken.
“He’s been at this for months. One of these days, he’s going to kill you.” Bodhi says quietly, his gaze not moving from the next sparring pair.
“Why not kill him first?” Imogen asks. “You had a knife to his gut, you should have used it.”
“No.” You say firmly. “To kill anyone unmarked, especially an officer’s son, would confirm what everyone else in this army believes about Tyrs; that we are bloodthirsty animals.”
“Let them believe that,” she scoffs. “They’ll never change their mind.”
You sigh. Maybe she’s right.
You don’t see your friends for the next ten hours, when you’re finally excused for dinner.
“Where the hell have you been?” Bodhi asks.
“Medical wing,” you rasp, sliding into a seat at the end of the bench. “Mending infantry with Carr.”
“You should eat,” Liam says softly, pushing a plate toward you, but you shake your head no, every muscle in your body screaming.
You look like your head is going to hit the table, your neck no longer able to hold it up. Bodhi pulls you into his side and you slump against him, boneless. “Her signet isn’t fully developed yet,” you hear him explain to Violet and Liam. “She’ll be okay. She just needs to rest.”
When you wake, it’s dark out, the room nearly pitch black, but you can tell it’s not yours — the furniture is arranged differently.
“Welcome back to the land of the living, gentle one,” Tab greets as soon as you’re cognizant. He can only be this dry about it because he knew you’d pull through. “If he makes you do that again, I’ll eat him.”
You laugh, wincing at the pain in your ribs. Your entire body aches. There’s no way you got up the three flights of stairs here yourself — you didn’t even have it in you to chew food at dinner.
There’s a comforting scent to the room — all the soap and detergent everyone uses is standard issue, but something about the sheets smells like Garrick. Your theory is confirmed when he walks through the door, the hallway light illuminating the hilts of the two swords strapped to his back. “If you want me in your bed, Gare, you just need to ask,” you say in greeting.
He laughs dryly, waving a hand to activate a small mage light. “The damage can’t be too bad if you’re already cracking jokes.”
“I missed physics, didn’t I? Did you carry me up here?”
“Of course that’s what you’re worried about. You can copy Violet’s notes, they’re way better than mine.” He strips some of the weapons off, shedding his flight jacket along with them. It’s something you’ve seen many times before, but it never fails to make your heart flutter.
He sits on the edge of the bed, a gentle hand moving up to lay against your cheek. “And I did carry you. I’d do anything for you, angel. It scares me sometimes.”
He brushes a piece of hair from your face. You’d been freezing cold when you fell asleep, so he’d draped you with every blanket he owned before leaving, and it seems to have worked — your skin is pleasantly warm against his hand.
“Anything, hm?” You ask, a lazy smile on your face.
His eyes sparkle at the mischief in your tone, but he’s responsible enough to think before he acts. “Not until you’ve recovered,” he says sternly.
You yawn. “D’you have section leader stuff to do tonight?”
“That’s what executive officers are for.”
You crack an eye to look at him in disapproval. “Gare, you can’t skip duty. Melgren will have your head.”
He sighs. “Fine. Don’t go anywhere.”
“I won’t. Your bed is more comfortable than mine anyway.”
He presses a kiss to your forehead, tugging the jacket back on and strapping in the swords.
/////////
Someone is standing in front of your yoga mat. Dain. “No bodyguard today?” He asks.
You’re silent, your gaze flickering between him and the longsword by your side, the one Garrick had insisted you take with you everywhere when he wasn’t there to protect you.
“You may find this hard to believe, but I don’t want to kill you.” He says with a sigh. “I just need to-”
“Quit talking and join me, or leave.” You interrupt, settling into a deeper stretch, eyes closing as you gesture to the floor next to you with an open hand. By the grace of Amari, Carr had given you enough time off to recover, but he’ll likely be making you work another shift in the infirmary today. This will be your only pocket of calm for the next twelve hours. You aren’t going to skip it for Dain, of all people.
He chooses the first option, surprising you as he drags a mat over beside yours, attempting to copy your movements. “Do you really do this every day?” He asks, uncomfortable.
“Even a soldier must take time to be at peace. Clear your mind. Whatever you’re thinking about is so loud it’s distracting.”
He startles, his foot slipping on the mat.
“No, my signet is not mind-reading.” You say, eyes still closed, though there’s an amused look on your face. “Relax. You’re killing the air in here with that nervous energy.”
For the next five minutes, you both stretch in total silence. “Now,” you decide, bringing your arms back to your body, focusing on your breathing, “what was so important that you needed to find me here?”
He cuts straight to it. “Varrish wants me to… practice on you. He thinks you’re hiding something, that all of you are.” He doesn’t need to specify who he means by you.
You don’t seem to react to the information, instead looking at him with curiosity. “How do you feel about your signet?”
He blinks. Nobody’s ever asked him that before. “I don’t know.” He says quietly. You shift again, but he doesn’t follow you, folding his legs underneath him instead. Your silence presses him to speak, needing to fill the air. “I used to think it was cool, but now… now I’m wondering if it’s really a gift at all.”
“What do you see when you view a memory like that? Are you living it through their eyes, or from above, watching it unfold? How far back can you see?”
“Through their eyes.” He answers, throat dry. Why is he telling you this? “A day, maybe two. It depends. Varrish wants me to learn to push it farther.”
You weigh the consequences. If he’s being honest, he won’t see anything confidential — at worst, a gathering of more than three marked ones to exercise, but is he really petty enough to tell Varrish about that, when he’s giving you a warning in the first place?
“Okay.” You say, opening your eyes. Better it be you than one of the kids who can’t shield their memories yet, or Garrick or Bodhi, who would rip him limb from limb if he tried to touch them.
“What?”
“I’m going to go about my day now as if this conversation never happened,” you say, looking him in the eye, unflinching, “and you’re going to do what you have to do to satisfy Varrish’s demands — with me and only me. Are we clear?”
“Yes,” he stammers, shocked that you’re letting him do this.
“Good.” You pick up the longsword, strapping it back in along your spine. “Dain?” You call over your shoulder. “I won’t make it easy for you.” You say, and he knows that’s a promise.
“That was an incredibly stupid decision, gentle one. A noble decision, but stupid nonetheless.” Tab speaks into your mind on the way back up to your room. “You cannot always assume everyone has good intentions. It would have been your downfall by now, if not for your mate’s protection.”
“Stop calling Garrick my mate. That’s weird.” You deflect, not wanting to unpack his earlier words.
“Forgive me. Dragons do not have a word for a relationship as trivial as a boyfriend.”
You build up a mental wall like Xaden had taught you, ending the argument.
When Varrish calls you into his office that afternoon, you already know what it’s for. “Take a seat,” he says with a smile that you know isn’t meant to be friendly.
He sees the way your eyes immediately narrow at the sight of Dain — everyone knows how the quadrant’s golden boy feels about marked ones, and how you feel about him. You’re going to be doing some very good acting today.
The door closes and locks behind you, and your stomach flips as you feel the sound shield form and press up against the office walls. There’s no escape, and no screaming for help, but you know what you’ve walked into. You signed up for it this morning.
“To what do I owe this meeting, Major?” You ask respectfully, lowering yourself into the chair beside Dain.
“Professor Carr has made me aware that both of your signets have been slow to develop. We’re going to spend your leisure time today practicing, in hopes that you will finally improve.” A very convincing lie, you’ll admit. If Dain hadn’t come to you this morning, you might have believed it. “No objections?” He asks, waiting for you to protest.
“No, sir.” You say calmly, Dain answering the same a beat behind you.
“Good. Aetos, you first.”
It takes every ounce of self control not to squirm as Dain stands, stepping toward you. You lift your chin, closing your eyes -- a gesture of consent small enough to fly under the Vice Commandant’s radar.
You may be letting him try, but you’d told him this wouldn’t be easy. You block him out completely, raising your mental shield and barring the gates.
“What do you see?” Varrish asks.
Dain doesn’t answer. He does not push, does not attempt to kick the door down or dig below the foundation. He stands outside, waiting for you to give him something.
The crack of his nose breaking has your eyes flying open, the coppery scent of blood starting to fill the room immediately as he staggers back into his chair.
“Your turn, Avan."
You stand, laying a gentle hand on Dain’s jaw to tilt it up, stopping the blood from pouring down his shirt.
He looks up at you, stunned, but lets you touch the broken cartilage with your fingertips, and moments later it feels like nothing ever happened. It’s mind-bending.
“Very good. Aetos, try again. What was she doing this morning?”
Dain stands, angling his body between yours and Varrish’s so that the Major can’t see the apology he mouths before his hands touch your forehead. Whether he can see his conversation with you in the gym is unclear. He lies through his teeth either way. “She was alone,” he answers, “on a run to the flight field and back.”
“And then?”
He shifts uncomfortably, his eyes not leaving yours. “A shower, breakfast. Eggs. An apple. Toast. She sat with Tavis and two other marked ones.” He leaves out Violet from the group, not wanting to implicate her. Interesting.
That much is true, but it’s part of your everyday routine — he could have easily gleaned that from watching you across the mess hall. Is he still locked out?
Varrish stands, rounding the corner of his desk. “Let’s make this a little harder, shall we?”
Dain screams as a dagger pierces his arm, thrashing in his chair. Varrish twists the blade as he pulls it out, letting Dain’s blood drip to the floor. This is why he needed the sound shield.
Your eyes widen, and the adrenaline has you leaping to your feet to fix it. You press a hand into the wound, apologizing when he winces. It takes you longer than it should for the muscle to repair itself.
“You care more about him than I thought.” Varrish muses.
You turn to him, anger flickering in your chest. “It is my moral obligation to help the wounded.”
He tuts. “You would have made an excellent healer, had your parents not committed high treason. Aetos, again. Find something older.”
Dain trembles as he stands, and you take pity on him. You push an older memory forward, a happy one, remembering it as vividly as you can.
You watch together as you sprint through the forest, stopping dead in your tracks as you see two cadets fighting. The one losing is a smaller girl in your class whose name Dain can’t remember, a tall, muscled boy towering over her, sword ready to strike.
You spring forward, catching him by surprise and effectively disarming him, and he chooses to abandon the sword and run rather than fight the both of you. You extend a hand to pull the girl to her feet and her eyes widen further, staring up not at you, but behind you.
You feel a burst of heat against your back — not hot enough to be fire. Steam. You bow your head in deference, turning slowly to give the girl time to run… And the dragon bows back. What the fuck?
“You did not kill the boy.” It says directly into your mind.
“I did not.” You answer aloud, not sure if humans can do that.
“Have you ever killed before, gentle one?”
“I haven’t.” Should you be embarrassed? Dragons are violent, surely they would see this as a sign of weakness.
“Not all of us.”
“Holy shit, you can read my mind.”
The girl laughs in disbelief, and you realize you’ve just bonded a dragon.
“In time you’ll learn to control that. But your friend needs to get moving, and so do we.”
You wish her luck before scaling the leg of your dragon and taking a seat.
“Hold on.”
You shriek in happiness like a child as he jumps up, and seconds later you’re thousands of feet in the air, looking down at Basgiath and the valley below. When you return to the flight field, you find Garrick there with a giant brown Scorpiontail, bloodied but happy as he stands next to Xaden and the biggest blue daggertail you’ve ever seen. You pull them both into a hug, just grateful they’re alive.
“Careful, angel,” Garrick warns, grinning into your hair, “we just might make it out of here.”
You cut Dain off there, yanking back the memory before slamming your shields back up. He can have that moment, but only that moment.
“Threshing,” Dain says. Thank the gods. “She helped another cadet who was being attacked. That’s why Tab chose her, for her kindness.”
You both look at Varrish for further instruction. Your shields have been weakening with every injury you repair, but so have Dain’s abilities. You don’t know how many more rounds either of you can take.
“I think that’s enough for today,” He says, sounding pleased. “I’ll see you again on Wednesday morning, to check your progress. You’re dismissed.”
The sound shield dissipates, the door unlocking. The only evidence is Dain’s blood, smeared across his face and arms, drying on the floor and under your nails. You commit the sight to memory, tucking it into the same folder that holds the death of your parents, and slam the drawer shut.
It takes you five minutes to scrub the blood out of the cracks in your palms and from under your nails. Your fingertips are wrinkled when you step into the gym.
“Why did Tab tell Chradh that you were called into Varrish’s office with Aetos?” Garrick asks, remarkably calm as he toys with one of his smaller daggers.
“Because he’s a meddling mother hen.” You answer, avoiding the question.
“Watch it.” Tab warns. “Tell him the truth, or we will.”
You know he’s not bluffing. “He wanted us to practice our signets on each other.”
“Dain practiced his signet, his memory-reading signet, on you?” He asks, already simmering with anger.
“This morning, he came to me to warn me about Varrish’s plan, and I told him it was okay. I used my shields, and I only showed him what I wanted to. We’re supposed to do it again Wednesday.”
Your eyes communicate something else you won’t say aloud, not in front of everyone, and not when you know Dain might be able to see this conversation in two days. I did this to take the heat off of the others. You know I was the safest choice.
Garrick sighs. “I can’t tell you what to do, but I’d like to state for the record that I hate this plan. Literally everything about it. Except for Aetos being stabbed, maybe.” Of course Chradh told him about that. He’d have been delighted by the news, despising both him and Cath.
You give him a look.
“Okay, fine. I take that back.”
He doesn’t.
By Wednesday, the pain in the bridge of your nose is gone, but your arm is still tender where Dain had been stabbed. Bodhi joins you in the gym, stretching with you for a few minutes before he settles into a plank at your side, his eyes never leaving the door.
Dain does not make an appearance at breakfast, notably absent from the leadership table.
Garrick excuses himself as soon as he sees you stand with your tray, catching you by the doors. “Remember that you’re stronger than both of them in all the ways that matter,” he says quietly. “I’ll find you as soon as you’re done.” You both tap your chest twice before parting ways, as has been your tradition for years -- a reminder that even though you’re leaving, you still hold the other in your heart.
Each step up to Varrish’s office is another reminder of what’s to come when you reach the top. “Cadet Avan,” he greets with another sickening smile. “Just in time. We were beginning to think you weren’t coming.”
Your jaw drops at the sight of Dain slumped into the same chair as last time, bloodied and exhausted.
“Nothing fatal,” Varrish reassures. “Not if you act quickly. Go ahead, get started.”
The Vice Commandant’s words have you on edge as you assess him, looking for gaping wounds or broken bones. Dain winces as your hands move over his ribs, and you whisper an apology, pressing in deeper. When your chest starts to ache, you know it’s time to move on. You mend two broken ribs, dissolve a purple bruise on his arm, and fix a split lip, but Dain still hasn’t woken up.
You turn back to Varrish. “One left,” he says. “Use your head.”
Oh, gods. He’d given Dain a concussion, because he knows the migraine it’ll give you will make it harder to shield. You cradle the second-year’s head in your hands, breathing out deeply as you transfer the pain from his body to yours, healing the bruised tissue. Dain blinks himself awake as you stumble, the room suddenly spinning.
“Well done. Aetos?”
You fumble for the arms of your chair, vision blurring at the edges, but you manage to sit back down.
“Say the word, and I get your mate,” Tab offers. He can probably feel your disorientation, concerned you won’t be able to block Dain out in this state.
“No,” you rasp back. “If he shows up, Varrish will have us practice on him instead.”
You need to pick another memory to satisfy Varrish, something older, but your brain isn’t firing on all cylinders. Dain gives you a moment to gather yourself, a small gesture of mercy.
“A moment of pure happiness,” Tab suggests. “Something with the wingleader and your mate.”
You flip back in the book of your life, nearly all the way to the beginning, opening it to the right page to give to Dain and slipping it under the gate with a nod of your head — you’re ready.
Dain’s hands are warm against your freezing cheeks. A boy no older than five that he recognizes as Garrick crouches under a desk across the room, holding a finger to his lips.
“Wherever could those children possibly be?” Someone muses aloud, and you fight laughter as the voice grows closer, thinking it amusing that this adult has no idea you’re hiding in the curtains.
Footsteps retreat, and Garrick signals for you to move. You make it down the hallway before you see someone searching — presumably whatever parent you’d convinced to play with you. Small hands tug you both behind a plush velvet couch. Xaden.
You press yourselves up against it, trying to be as quiet as possible, watching as a shadow forms on the wall in front of you, then a head peers over the back of the couch — that must be your father. He looks just like you, has the same warm smile.
“One more, and then I need to get back to work,” He says, already moving to cover his eyes and starting to count to one hundred. You each run off in a different direction, and the scene fades there.
“A childhood memory,” Dain says. “Playing hide and seek in her father’s office with Riorson and Tavis.”
Not good enough for Varrish. “Give me something I can use,” he snarls, a Freudian slip, but nothing either of you hadn’t known already.
You flip forward in the book, settling on a page you never look at, that you can’t bear to, but that Varrish will revel in. You rip it out, sliding it under the gate. “Bad,” you whisper, the only warning you can manage.
Dain nods in permission, ready to watch whatever memory you’ve pushed forward.
Someone presses a small stone into your hand, an intricate overlap of shapes and lines engraved on one side, the other perfectly smooth.
“Do not put it down, even for a moment,” your father says. He’s aged between now and the last memory, starting to go gray at his temples. “Keep it in your hand until the end. It will protect you when we can’t.”
He looks next to Garrick. “She is everything good about the world.” He says quietly. “Take care of her.”
Garrick promises he will, and your father pulls you into one last embrace before he leaves. Tears blur your vision, Garrick pulling you close. “It’ll be okay,” he soothes. “They’ll come back.”
Hours pass that Dain can’t see, because you don’t remember them.
There’s an ache in your palm from clutching the stone so hard, the rounded corners digging into your skin. Garrick takes your free hand in his, interlocking your fingers. Then there’s only screaming and fire and rage, heat burning up your arm as it’s marked with inky swirls. Until the end, your father had said. This must have been what he meant.
“Her parents’ execution,” Dain says, a note of genuine hurt in his voice. “They gave each child a runestone before they left, as protection.”
Varrish’s eyes rake over to you. He leans forward, yanking on the leather cord that disappears into the neck of your shirt hard enough to pull your body with it. “A runestone like this one?”
“Yes,” you answer before Dain can, saving him the lie. You shut your eyes, wincing as the cold edge of a knife brushes against your neck and the cord breaks, a single drop of warm blood running down your collarbone. You don’t protest, you can’t, your mind still hazy and eyes wet with tears from reliving the memory with Dain.
“That will be all.” Varrish dismisses. He doesn’t make an appointment for you to come back. He has what he needs.
You stand, relying on your knowledge of the office’s layout to navigate your way forward until the door closes behind you.
“I’m so sorry,” Dain breathes once you’re down the hall far enough to avoid being heard. “If I had known,”
“It’s okay. The rune is long dead, and he has no idea how to recreate it. I’m just glad he didn’t hurt you again.” You blink, trying to clear your head. How are you going to get down all these stairs? You can hardly see.
“Here,” he says quietly, extending a hand. You take it, letting him loop an arm over his shoulders — your right, the one that Varrish hadn’t bruised black and blue on Dain — and lead you one step at a time.
You’re halfway down when you hear heavy footsteps running up the stairs. Garrick. He’d promised he’d find you when you were done. He doesn’t spare a glance at Dain, gathering you into his arms and apologizing when he puts pressure on your not-broken ribs.
Dain watches as the older boy carries you down the rest of the stairs, murmuring reassurances to you all the while. Your father’s words echo in his mind. “Take care of her.”
Garrick Tavis is a man of his word.
#garrick tavis#garrick tavis x reader#reader insert#fourth wing fanfic#iron flame fanfic#garrick tavis imagine#fourth wing x reader#fourth wing imagine#throwing this into the void for the three Garrick girlies out there!#liam fic next??#mine#Garrick and Angel
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For anyone who wants to read a finished fic! Just finished my short smutty fic where Xaden and Violet agree to help each other out when their dragons are mating. Mutual pining idiots, dragon humor, and a sweet little ending. This is as feel-good as I get. The Agreement 23k words (like 90% smut, 9% dragon sass, 1% happy ending)
the vibes 👉🏽
#fourth wing fanfic#ao3#riorgail#xaden riorson#the empyrean#violet sorrengail#smut#iron flame#tairn and sgaeyl#empyrean fanfic#fourth wing#pwp fics#pwf
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when the fic warnings are like *major character death* but then also *angst with a happy ending* sign me THE FUCK up
#they come back to life somehow and I don’t even care if it doesn’t logically make sense#angst with a happy ending#acotar#azriel#fourth wing#iron flame#liam mairi#rhysand#cassian#lucien vanserra#eris vanserra#xaden riorson#azriel x reader#cassian x reader#xaden x reader#fic tropes
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Garrick: I have a feeling your girl is gonna burn the place down Xaden: She's not my girl, Tavis. Xaden: But that sounds like my Violence.
#chat fic Xaden is finally back#hockey au#viayn#victory is all you need#fourth wing#fourth wing au#iron flame au#empyrean au#sneak peek#ao3
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・✧゚♡*✧・Fics ✧* ♡ ゚・✧
When I Met You (Fourth Wing)
Aurora Sallow (OC) x Liam Mairi
Chapter One: Old friends, New beginnings
Chapter Two: The Parapet
Chapter Three: At First Sight
Chapter Four: Fourth Wing
Chapter Five: Sparring
Chapter Six: in progress …
Chapter Seven: in progress …
#fics#fanfic#fourth wing#fourth wing fic#fourth wing x reader#iron flame#liam mairi#liam mairi x reader#xaden riorson#xaden x reader#violet sorrengail#rhiannon matthias#ridoc gamlyn#sawyer henrick#garrick tavis#bodhi durran#dain aetos
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Shit at Feelings i
Part one
Pairing: Bodhi Durran x fem!marked one!reader
Synopsis: Bonding with dragons? No issue. Killing venin? Unfortunate, but doable. Confronting your feelings towards your childhood best friend? No thanks.
Word count: 1.6k
Warnings: SPOILERS!!, drinking, swearing, filler dialogue, not proofread v well. lmk if I missed anything
A/n: my first Emperyeon series fic!! Was supposed to be just a one part fic, but I got carried away. I also just wanted to write a self indulgent piece w dialogue amongst the group too 🥲 this is my first time in a while posting but I fr love Bodhi sm I needed to have something w him in it. I hope you enjoy!
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You survived your first year, you defied the odds of what everyone else said about you. Not only defying those odds, but being one of the best in your year. Maybe Imogen and Xaden had played a crucial part, but most of the marked ones were surprised. You had been more quiet and reserved out of the group of kids for the high ranked officials, but that didn’t mean you were weak. You had proved that while being ruthless and cunning in your training. Your parents were Fen Riorson’s top battle strategist and healer after all.
In the gathering hall, everyone celebrated moving into their new ranks. While simultaneously saying goodbye to the third years they’ve grown to know. You were indulging in the alcoholic lemonade, and your fellow fourth wing with more than a few words tonight. You sat on the left side of Violet while Imogen sat on the right. Nadine and Sawyer next to Rhiannon across from you bickering playfully about something. You savoring your newfound will to live after the events at Resson.
The hall was sweltering in the summer evening heat, no amount of lesser magic had helped. Neither did the warmth you could feel from Ridoc beside you. Taking your jacket off, only being left in your tank top underneath.
“Damn Y/n,” whistled Ridoc. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen your relics yet.” Everyone’s eyes went to you, and usually you would’ve been intimidated by all eyes on you. Tonight it didn’t faze you that much. Even noting the softened gaze in Nadine’s eyes, who had been skeptical of the kids of the rebellion at the beginning of the year.
Both sides of your collarbones are covered in intricate designs extending to shoulders making their way down to your biceps on both arms. You never tried to hide the relics, but you never took your jacket off or opted for a long sleeve, higher collared shirt when training in lessons.
You rolled your eyes at the male’s cheekiness and everyone gawking besides the few who knew what already laid beneath your jacket. “It’s not something I necessarily flaunt.”
“Obviously or we wouldn’t all be shocked here.” Sawyer snorted, sipping on his beverage.
“It’s so badass though.” Violet acted as if she hadn’t only seen it days prior.
“I had been fortunate in the placements of them. Since both of my parents were a part of Riorson’s regime.” You tried not to be bashful about it.
“Where’s your dragon relic?” Ridoc blurted as he looked at the design on your shoulders.
“Sheesh,” Rihannon reached over, flicking his ear. “You’re staring like you’ve never seen any relics before.”
Before you could give a response, something caught the youngest Sorrengail’s eye causing her to get up. “I’ll be back.” Violet stood up from the table, wobbling tipsily to the corner where you saw Xaden and Bodhi. The latter descended, seeing the silver haired girl approach them, offering a curt nod when they passed one another.
You gulped at how good Bodhi looked in his new third year jacket, even when it bore no difference to his second year uniform. You were just a sucker for Bodhi in a uniform admittedly. The mage lights illuminating his dark curls to a chocolate hue that tempted you to run your fingers through his hair.
Despite being close with Xaden, Imogen, and even Garrick—you kept your distance from the younger man for a year before he left for Basigath. When you were kids, you two had been close friends, maybe even inseparable. But when a rebellion happens, and you have increasingly become aware of how much your affection for him went so much deeper than being his friend—things become complicated.
When you were around him now it was the only time you felt truly timid. You could conquer the parapet, gauntlet, bond a dragon, kill venin and wyvern, but that man was your weakness. He had narrowly saved you and your dragon from a wyvern attack while back in Resson.
His cheek still dusted with a greenish yellow bruise, and jaw gashed with a healing cut. Unashamedly you thought it made him look so much more lethally handsome than he was. Gods you were resorting to a bumbling nervous lovesick puppy.
“Human women and their finicky hormones and emotions.” Your dragon, Cleasaí, chortled through your bond.
“Quiet, go eat sheep or something.” You slammed your mental shields up from her to the best of your ability while intoxicated.
Bodhi reached the table, already looking at you. His hazel eyes shimmered with curiosity as he scanned your exposed arms and collarbones. Either not used to lack of sleeves or was it the fact you unabashedly stared back for once. His mouth curled into a lazy smirk. You hoped he didn’t notice your already flushed warm cheeks redden under the mage lights, feeling a ghost of smirk on your own lips. The lavender lemonade made you feel bolder evidently as well.
“Mind if I squeeze in?” He asked, keeping his eyes locked on yours stil.
“I can move over—“ Imogen started moving closer to you, but he had already stepped over the bench to take a seat in between the two of you. “Or not.” She deadpanned. She had been one of the only ones that knew the complicated timeline between the two of you.
Your heart skipped a split second from the stare down between the both of you. Now feeling acutely aware of your posture and the swarm of what you could only compare to bees buzzing around in your stomach.
“Y/n,” he greeted casually, his voice a warm husky tone.
“Bodhi.” You tried to play cool, and take a sip of your frothy drink. Not only did you know he was looking at you, you could see Imogen in your peripheral, giving you a “what-the-fuck” look at the interaction. Ignoring the pink haired girl, you spoke up again. “Feel like a third year yet?”
“Eh, it won’t hit me until the new candidates get here.” He finally took his eyes off you as Ridoc offered him a bottle of ale. “Thanks man.” Bodhi’s side pressed up to you when leaned over to take the bottle.
His warmth doubled down into you, igniting the exposed skin where he pressed into you. Feeling his minty breath fan the side of your face, and the smell of cedar, patchouli, and musk invade your senses. You could feel his hard muscle flex through the layers of his clothing against your bicep. The storm that buzzed through your stomach turned into heat seeping into your core. Lovesick puppy or just desperate for male touch?
“I know I will be taking every advantage as a second year,” Nadine chimed in. “Finally being able to sleep in is priority number one!” She did a little celebratory dance in her seat. You snapped out the trance Bodhi left you in, and agreed with her.
“I’ll be savoring our newfound alone time too.” An extra hour in the morning, and weekends to actually do something more than chores or training. Maybe you can finally break out the sketch book that someone smuggled in for you during a supplies trip. You only found it on your bed with no note.
“Define alone time, Y/n.” Rihannon wagged her eyebrows at you. The group chuckled at the suggestive comment.
“Or will you use your newfound freedom to bring someone into your room finally?” Ridoc added, causing the group to laugh louder. If you weren’t red enough already, you had to be beet red now.
“What makes you think I haven’t already?” An inquisitive eyebrow raised at the shorter male from beside you. ‘Oohs’ rise from the group.
“Did you want to be number one, Ridoc?” Quinn giggled.
You felt both the male in question and Bodhi tense. The former blushing a deep scarlet in embarrassment and the latter wearing a neutral expression you couldn’t decipher.
“Sounds like you’re keeping watch of me.” You teased playfully. The flushed male who usually was never at loss for words was now stammering trying to deny it. “It’s okay, maybe one day I’ll take your consideration if I’m ever bored enough.”
“Not what I meant.” Ridoc put his hands over his face groaning. You finally let out a laugh from his reaction, you couldn’t help getting the slight joy of teasing him. He always got the joy of doing it to everyone else. It seemed the rest of the group was enjoying teasing the man just as much too. Everyone besides Bodhi, who had a slight scowl on his face until Imogen whispered something to him.
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By the end of the night, everyone was just about ready for bed drunkenly chatting and giggling at one another. You had consumed two more tall glasses of lavender lemonade. Most of the group now were clamoring around getting clumsy and incoherent. While you were trying to stay sane while remaining seated next to the guy you’ve always had undeniable feelings for. Overly aware of every little action he did at the table throughout the night. From him laughing to the way he gripped the bottle of his alcohol. Lovesick puppy.
You had stood at the exit of the hall up to the dormitories with Ridoc and Rhiannon. Both have to hold each other up as they bid you goodnight.
“Y/n,” Ridoc hiccupped. “I wasn’t serious about earlier, but if you’re—“ hiccup “serious I can be—“ another hiccup “serious.” You did everything you could not laugh out loud knowing it was the alcohol talking.
“She wasn’t.” Bodhi came up next to you, giving him a glare. You shot him a look, not used to such a serious or broody version of the man you grew up with. Him always being the friendlier one out of Xaden, Garrick, and himself. “Goodnight you two.”
Rhiannon’s eyes widened in a shocking delight. “I knew there was something between the two of you!” She squealed, like he bared his soul with a couple words.
“There is—“ you go to correct her, but the tall male beside you cuts you off.
“Goodnight Cadet Matthias.” He had an authoritative tone that made your knees buckle. Or was that the alcohol? His muscular arm wrapped around your waist as he noticed your unsteadiness, and you felt that same sensation you felt earlier when you leaned into him for support.
Your two fellow second years gave the both of you looks before clumsily walking away, leaving you alone with the male holding you up. Your heart is now hammering as he starts to lead you away.
“Let’s get some air.” Bodhi motioned his head to the courtyard as he effortlessly led your stumbling form outside. You wanted to scoff at his proposition. Your new bed and pajamas were calling your name.
A few cadets and lieutenants lingered around the expansive yards, but he quietly led you to an alcove that brought you to a secluded spot where no one could see the two of you.
You leaned up against the stone wall, letting the summer breeze cool your skin. Carefully observing the tawny skinned man from beside you. He took out a small rolled paper and a match, lighting the roll and the sweet smell of churam filled your nose. You weren’t allowed to smoke, and you knew if you were caught you two would be expelled and possibly executed at this point.
“What are you doing?” You hissed as he took a drag, watching him let the smoke leave his mouth and inhale through his nose. There goes that damn buzzing feeling in the pit of your stomach again.
“Relax this is our smoking spot, Y/n/n, no one comes around here.” He reassured you once he exhaled the smoke again. You rolled your eyes staring at the mage light that flickered on the wall. After a lengthy pause, you glanced back at him.
“What makes you think I wasn’t serious?” You questioned, crossing your arms around yourself.
“You know these are the most words you’ve spoken to me in months? Maybe even years?” He ignored your question.
You opened your mouth, before closing it again. You couldn’t admit it was because of your harbored feelings. Not now. Because he was right, you hadn’t talked for quite some time. It didn’t feel right nor did you want to omit that confession.
“Well you were here for an entire year and I was back home so yeah it’s been a year since we talked.” So you played oblivious with him.
He scoffed, “you’ve hardly spoken to me since you’ve gotten here.”
“You just seemed so busy—“
“Cut the shit, please.” He pleaded, now anxiously dragging the joint.
As he brought it away from his lips after a couple puffs, you stole it from him. Your fingers brushing slightly as you grab the small rolled herb. The small touch warrants an electrifying feeling between your fingers. Quickly brushing the thought of if he felt it too, you took a hit of the herb. Letting the sweet smoke seep into your lungs and haze the self awareness and guilt that filled you.
You didn’t want to let him in, truthfully. You’ve already witnessed too many losses during the succession and your first year alone at Basigath. It was when your parents had been executed when you started slipping away from him. You let the stereotypical crush trope hide deep down what you felt, how afraid you were. It would hurt to know, if you finally got the balls to admit everything you’ve felt, and something happened to him or you. It already almost did once, the regret and shame still kept a hold of you for the last few days.
You could now see the disappointment in his eyes. “You’ve always been quiet and reserved, but with me? That’s never been you.” You took another deep inhale of the herb.
“Could you blame me if I was scared?” Your hands slightly shook as you handed the joint back to him. Your eyes were earnest as you looked at him.
He shook his head, running hand through his hair. “You're scared? Fuck, Y/n I almost watched you die. And you know what ran through my head thinking ‘this could be it’?” He took one last smoke, throwing the remaining part of the joint on the ground, stomping it out into the cobblestone. “That the last fucking year spent with you was speaking through a chain of command or small talk bullshit when you weren’t running the opposite if I was near you for too long.”
A lump formed in your throat, and you could feel the tears burn the edges of your eyes. That electric current you felt in your stomach only a few moments ago had solidified into a brick. Then ascended into a wall that crushed you with an iron force with his words.
You two had only briefly talked while in Aretia after what happened.
You had tended to your dragon most of the time while waiting for Violet to heal. Your green clubtail had a poorly injured claw from a wyvern, and despite her persistence it would heal, you were nervous that it would draw too many questions back at Basigath. Xaden agreed and saw Brennan to help mend some of the wound once Violet was stable. You were not able to leave her side while the stranger tended to her. She was already furious that someone besides you had to touch her.
You wanted to talk to him more after that, everything had happened so fast though. Then you went back to avoiding him.
“You’re right.” You mumbled, picking at the edge of your nails. “I’m so sorry, Bo.” Your lip trembled, and the first tear slipped from your eye.
He sighed, sounding defeated. “Gods, I don’t want to be right.” He gently grabbed your elbow, wrapping your smaller frame in his arms. “I want you to stop icing me out, Y/n.”
He ran a hand through your hair, his chin resting on top of your head as you sniffled tears silently running down your cheeks. He had every right to be upset with you, but here he was comforting you. This had always been the Bodhi you knew, how he was before the height of the rebellion. Whereas you had turned cold, letting your cowardice and stubbornness control your emotions—for what you thought was for good reason.
“I know,” you stifled against his jacket. Finally wrapping your arms around him. His grip tightened, and you were overwhelmed by the sense of comfort. You hated what this man did for you and to you.
“I shouldn’t have had this conversation tonight.” He admitted. “I should have waited until we were both sober.” He let you go, and you wished you were still wrapped in his muscular arms. A cold seeping into you that wasn’t due to weather.
You shook your head, a sad smile on your lips. “I would have run.”
“And I wouldn’t have had the courage to bring it up.” A dry chuckle echoed through the quiet alcove.
“We’re riders and we’re—“
“Shit at feelings?” He mused as he watched you tug your jacket on. You wiped some stray tears from your cheeks with your sleeve.
“I was gonna say pansies, but that works.” You sniffled, as a toothy grin finally appeared on his face.
“Should we get to bed and do this all over again tomorrow?” He offered his arm. You raised an eyebrow at him, was he sane? “I mean the drinking part, not the arguing. I enjoyed hearing more than a word out of you tonight though. So I can resort to arguing if needed.” He nudged you slightly.
You rolled your eyes teasingly, “no promises.”
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Reblogs and likes are appreciated! I am open to feedback as well as requests too! 💕🫶
#bodhi durran x reader#bodhi durran#fourth wing#fourth wing fic#emperyeon series#ridoc fourth wing#Ridoc x reader#liam mairi x reader#dain Aetos x reader#iron flame#iron flame fic#fourth wing fanfic#iron flame fanfic#xaden riorson#Xaden riorson x reader#bd fics#fourth wing spoilers#iron flame spoilers#iron flame fiction#iron flame fanfiction#fourth wing fanfiction#sawyer x reader#sawyer fourth wing#violet sorrengail#dain aetos#Bodhi fourth wing
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Liam Mairi masterlist
One-shots:
Get him back (angst) (fluff) (X Reader)
Liam Mairi taglist:
Artists credits:
drsoaresrex
mybookishdoodles
#liam mairi fourthwing#liam mairi x y/n#liam mairi fourth wing#liam mairi x reader#liam mairi#fourth wing fic#fourth wing by rebecca yarros#fourthwing#iron flame fic#iron flame#iron flame liam mairi#liam#liam x reader#liam x you#liam x y/n#liam mairi x you#fiction#my fic#liam mairi masterlist
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i want to read the most guy wrenching heart shattering liam mairi fanfiction because my baby deserved BETTER and LOVE LIKE NO OTHER (i would also fuck the daylights out of ridoc because i imagined him as stiles stilisnki era dylan obrien)
Okay well you’ve just made me realize why part of me likes Ridoc. Cuz it reminds me of Stiles fucking Stilinski.
ALSO I would love nothing more than to read the most gut punching, heart wrenching, heart shattering, lips of an angel type shit, story about Liam.
Like imagine a story where readers signet is being able to communicate with past souls or some shit, like all they need is an object which is difficult since their belongings get burned. But we have his letters to Sloan, and the dragons he carved so we can still communicate and “summon” him.
#fourth wing x oc#fourth wing#fourth wing Liam#liam fourth wing#liam mairi fourth wing#liam mairi x reader#liam mairi#Liam iron flame#iron flame#Liam Mairi x OC#fourth wing x reader#fourth wing x y/n#iron flame fic#fourth wing fic#iron flame x reader#iron flame x oc#ridoc fourth wing#Ridoc iron flame
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Green Dragon
My first post out to the Tumblr universe. Here’s some angst between you and Xaden.
Let me know what y’all think! And if there should be a part 2!
Part 2
The green dragon, but not your green dragon, have taken residence inside your heart and mind. Never before had you felt threatened in your relationship; however, something seemed to change the minute Violet Sorrengail entered the quadrant. Not only did your friends seem distracted by the girl, but you could feel him peeling away little by little.
As days and months wore on, it seemed that the interest that peaked in him as he withdrew from interest in you. At first, you figured it was the stress of the deal with her mother, then you realized that wasn’t it at all. He stopped visiting. He stopped paying attention to you. He stopped seemingly seeing you at all. To protect yourself, you began to pull away. You thought he would notice, but once threshing passed, it all seemed to be over. Xaden told you that he was just figuring things out due to the mating bond between Sgaeyl and Tairn and his life now being tethered to Violet’s, but it seemed there were more to things.
At that point, you had decided you’d pull back from everyone and see what changed. One night in December, you decided some fresh air was needed and that’s when your heart broke. There he was kissing her. His hands in her hair and pushing her up against a wall. You couldn’t believe the brokenness you felt. He couldn’t even come to you first and end things before moving on. The feelings of worthlessness and nothingness were enveloping you again. Watching the person that had driven those feelings from you drove the despair in deep and fast. The thought that the man you had picked you up from broken pieces could toss you aside so fast was the most heartbreaking thing you had ever experienced. From there on you knew that there was no going back, your relationship was done, and you were done pretending.
The next day, you couldn’t even look anyone in the eye. At breakfast Bodhi and Garrick both asked if you were ok, but you brushed them off and went to class. During class, Eya and Imogen tried to talk, but you just ignored them. Even though you weren’t a marked one, most all your friends were. You knew that since Xaden would never be abandoned, you would now be pushing them all away as well.
Being that Xaden seemed always busy with leadership, the revolution, and now Violet, it seemed you didn’t even have to have “the talk”. At least that is what you were hoping, until one day in January, he showed up at your door. You opened it a crack to see him standing there looking at you expectantly.
“I have nothing to say to you, Xaden.” You told him with a cold certainty.
He looked at you questioningly. You noticed the fight in his eyes, the only place he ever showed his emotions.
“I don’t want to fight with you about this, us, or whatever we were to each other. I know you’ve moved on and I would appreciate it if you would let me do the same.” You said. With that, you shut the door on him and slammed your face in your pillow.
‘It’s ok to protect your heart, Stormy One. I could always maim him in a place that would not anger Sgaeyl.' Cedri states.
‘Thanks for the offer, Cedri, but I’m not sure that would help.’
You were lucky that your dragon, though being a curmudgeon at times, always knew when to push you or comfort. Cedri was always there to bolster you in times of doubt and fear.
The next day, things seemed to change. Imogen, Eya, and even Soleil seemed to distance themselves from you. You didn’t mind, it seemed to make the process of moving on to pick up the pieces easier. It only seemed that they boys didn’t get the memo.
It was obvious that Xaden must have said something, as Garrick seemed to keep staring at you from the leadership table at breakfast. And it was on the way out from breakfast that Bodhi came up to you and asked if he could walk you to class. Due to the overwhelming exhaustion of your own feelings, you just said ok and let him walk you in silence. The most unusual part of the day came when Liam came up to you during dinner and asked if he could sit with you and your squad.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on guard duty, Mairi?” you asked with a look of pure confusion on your face.
“Well, yes. But I was hoping that maybe I could convince you to sit at our table.” He looked with a sheepish grin.
“Thanks, Liam. I think I’ll have to pass on that one.” How could he think that you would want to be anywhere near the girl that took your world away?
He walked away seemingly saddened by your answer, but you just stared back at him in disbelief.
It didn’t make sense that now they all seemed to be interested in what you were doing. You knew that Xaden would have told them what happened, well Garrick at least. Garrick would’ve informed the others.
The next few weeks passed by uneventfully enough. Your world seemed to find a new rhythm now that you had distanced yourself from your marked friends. You started spending more time with your three other squad mates and the change didn’t go unnoticed.
“Not that I’m complaining, but why have you started hanging out with us so much?” asked Nico pointing around the table between himself, Kai, and Iona.
You shrugged your shoulders and said, “Is that not ok?”
“Of course, its ok!” Nico said. “We are all glad you are, but just really wanted to check that everything was alright. You seem to be shutting your other friends out.”
You let out a huff of a laugh and slowly shake your head. “Yeah, that happens when you find out someone cheated on you and then don’t come to you about it.”
Nico looks at you with eyes wide in surprise. Everyone knew that you were in a relationship of sorts, but no one knew who it was with.
“Well if we need to bury a body, you just have to say the words.”
And with that you break out into fits of laughter, the first in months and you can feel four pairs of eyes on your back.
As the weeks passed, you started to get into a new rhythm. You found new sparring partners, friends, and even went on a few dates. You didn’t miss the glances from the boys when they thought you weren’t looking. But the thing that you couldn’t understand was why Xaden would ever be looking.
You were in the middle of studying in the commons with Kai and felt his eyes before even meeting his gaze. The thing that surprised you most was the flash of sadness and, was that jealousy, that crossed his face. You shook your head knowing that you must have dreamt those looks and went back to your books. But that didn’t help the thoughts from swirling.
Why would he be sad? He seemed to have a shiny, new obsession, why would he care what you were doing?
‘Maybe things aren’t really what they seem.’ Cedri states.
‘That may be true, but how would I know when no one has said anything otherwise.’ You retort.
The next few days seemed to drag, but you found yourself feeling lighter than you had in a while. You started getting up for morning runs in the past few days and that seemed to help your mood improve. That was until a week later; you saw Bodhi standing at the wall out of the citadel on your way there for a run.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of this morning visit Bodhi?” you question.
“I just wanted to see if we could talk, maybe hang out later? Things have been weird lately between you and everyone and I just wanted to see what was going on.” He explains.
“Did someone put you up to this?”
“No.” He says resolutely with a furrow in his brow. “I just miss hanging out with you and talking. We’ve been friends since we entered this hellhole and I just want to continue that.”
“Fine, we can talk later. Want to meet down by the river after classes today? I could use some fresh air away from the quadrant.”
“Sure, I’ll see you down there.” He says and walks back towards the academic building.
‘If he tries to hurt you, I will make sure Cuir does not have a good evening.’
‘I don’t think that’s Bodhi’s plan, but I know you’ll be there to make sure.’
‘Of course, you do not think I would leave you with those humans after the hurt they’ve inflicted recently.’
‘I would never expect anything less.’
You can hear your dragon ‘harumph’ in a sigh at your confidence.
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LITTLE WITCH, FIC — xaden riorson x reader.
DESCRIPTION: you wake— a captive girl with untamed power and no recollection of its origins. before you is a scarred, shadowy figure, whose taunts ignite your abilities—binding your fates in a dangerous encounter. NOTES - fourth wing fic !! leave me all your thoughts and opinions. i love them <33 | next part
two;
“What are you doing?” Your voice trembled, unsteady—a ballerina with mangled feet, poised yet painfully unnatural.
Xaden’s lips twitched, the faintest ghost of a smirk, as his fingers grazed the mahogany brush in his grasp. He didn’t answer, his dark eyes narrowing as he closed the distance between you. He seemed amused by all of this, or perhaps prideful.
You sat there, unchained but weak-hearted—though he had kept his promise. You were unchained.
Unchained and seated on an unfamiliar bed with grand, imposing posts and onyx-silk sheets. After an excruciatingly tense dinner, where every set of eyes at the table had cut into you like blades, Xaden had led you here. The silver-haired girl, in particular, had clutched her dagger tighter each time his gaze drifted toward your slouched figure.
Their whispers had danced around you like a ghostly waltz—sharp, feverish murmurs about your bruised wrists and hollow eyes. But you’d been too exhausted, too hollow yourself, to care. The soup in front of you had demanded all your focus.
You didn’t trust them. You didn’t trust him either—this man of shadows. Yet, inexplicably, he had fed you, given you a bed. And now he was… brushing your hair?
It was matted, straw-like, and stained with memories you couldn’t quite pluck free. The brush snagged against a knot, yanking sharply, and you winced. Xaden tensed, his patience fraying at the edges.
“I’m going to run you a bath,” he decided after a moment.
You didn’t protest.
He left, disappearing into the adjoining room, and when he returned, his outstretched hand was waiting for yours. Calloused, steady, and strangely anchoring. Against your better judgment, you placed your trembling palm in his.
“Come, little witch. If I wanted to bite you, you’d be bitten already.”
But as you rose unsteadily to your feet, his words stirred unease. He intended to join you.
The thought snagged on a sharp edge in your mind, but you were too weary to resist.
“Choose, Y/N,” a voice whispered from the corners of your memory, harsh and grating. “Kill him, and your power will be imminent.”
The agony hit like a tide, crashing over you until you clung to the onyx countertop for support. Xaden’s hands twitched at his sides, but he made no move to steady you.
When you raised your head, the mirror greeted you with a face that was hauntingly familiar: your own, but hollow, bruised, and unrecognizable.
“Y/N.” The name fell from your lips like a prayer, fragile and disbelieving. “My name is Y/N.”
Xaden nodded once, his towering presence unmoving.
“Yes, it is,” he said simply.
A flood of questions threatened to spill from your tongue, but you turned to him instead, accusation lacing your voice. “You know me.”
His expression didn’t falter as he began rolling up the cuffs of his midnight-black shirt, exposing veined forearms.
“No,” he said, his voice like gravel, “not personally.”
The irony wasn’t lost on you, given that he was about to bathe you. He looked at you expectantly, yet you made no effort to move. He needed to answer your question. You needed to know why.
“Strip,” he ordered, his tone firm but not unkind.
You remained still. His jaw twitched.
“If you’re going to sit there rotting in gods-know-how-long a time worth of grime, it’s going to be a great inconvenience for me. So you need to wash yourself— with or without my help. Your choice.”
Heat flushed your face, and the protest died in your throat. “Not. Personally,” you muttered under your breath, mimicking his earlier words. Were you to just sit wide eyed while he ran those awfully mangled hands down your skin? Your breasts, your— well.
For the first time, the corners of his lips lifted in genuine amusement. Slowly, he stepped forward, tucking a stray strand of your tangled hair behind your ear.
“Trust me, little witch. To me, you’re nothing more than a finely honed blade— sharp, useful, and exactly what we need to—” he stopped himself, and though you did not recognize much— you knew it was apprehension flashing in his eyes. “My desire belongs to the silver-haired girl downstairs.”
And your love, your mind supplied.
If that were true, why had they treated each other with such loathing at dinner?
Though Xaden’s words were an attempt at easing your hesitance— you still remained unmoving. Yet your prolonged silence seemed to unnerve him. He shifted on his feet before offering a compromise. “I’ll turn around.”
True to his word, he faced the wall, giving you the privacy to peel away the tattered cloth clinging to your starved body.
“Don’t turn around,” you whispered, tension straining your voice.
“I won’t,” he said softly, his shoulders rigid. “In the tub.”
The water enveloped you like an old lover, soothing every ache and gnawing pain. You curled into yourself, knees to chest, but when he turned back, the shadows didn’t entirely conceal you.
Xaden knelt by the tub, cupping water in his hands and letting it cascade over your hair. His touch was careful, deliberate, as he massaged circles into your temples. The silence between you was fragile but strangely comforting.
“You know of me,” you said at last, rephrasing your earlier accusation.
He hummed in acknowledgment, his hands moving with practiced precision.
“What am I?” The question hung between you, heavier than the steam rising from the bath.
Not who. What.
He paused, his fingers lingering on the sharp angles of your collarbone before he answered. “You’re very special.”
The words were maddeningly vague, but you didn’t have the strength to push. Instead, you murmured, “How did you find me?”
His hands resumed their work, scrubbing soap through your matted locks. This time, he didn’t pause.
“It took a very, very long fucking time.” He sounded exhausted at the idea of it.
“But you found me,” you pressed, desperate now. “Why?”
And then, the madness prickled at your very mind once more. Phantom voices humming… his voice— and his still lips. All within your head.
She doesn’t know her worth yet.
You think you do? This voice belonged to a woman.
She’ll learn soon enough.
Better hope she survives the lesson…
Before you had even a moment to ponder those ominous words, he tipped your chin upward, forcing you to meet his eyes.
“I told you, you’re special, little witch. But don’t make the mistake of thinking you know what that means yet.”
Your breath hitched as his words sank in. But before you could respond, he draped a washcloth over your trembling hand.
“Wash yourself,” he said, his voice dropping an octave.
Your cheeks burned as you obeyed, turning your body away from him to complete the task. When you finished, exhaustion pressed heavily against your fragile frame.
You knew your name, but not your home. Your love, your family or friends. Did you have any? This cage with its high stone walls and scrutinizing creatures, it frightened you.
“Please,” you whispered, tears blurring your vision. “Help me understand. I—I’m afraid.”
His eyes raked over your expression for a long moment— a mixture of admiration and pity flaring within them. He cupped your face in one damp hand, his thumb brushing away the tear that slipped free.
“Stop crying. I’ll help you understand,” he said, his voice soft but unyielding. “And you’ll hate me for it. But make no mistake, little witch: what my rebellion does to you won’t be wasted. You’re a weapon, dormant for too long. It’s time to wake you up. It’s time to win the war.”
🏷️’s: @emryb
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