#the empyrean imagines

[theseinfernalangels]

Fragile — Sawyer Henrick

Synopsis: Mender!Reader comes back from RSC worse off than the rest of your squad. Sawyer is heartbroken and takes care of you.

A/N: I pumped this one out surprisingly fast! I may post my OC reference sheet after this for more context, since there are references to characters you haven’t met yet, such as Reader’s dragon, Cridhe, and Eden (Liam’s girl!). We’ll see how it turns out! I might even do a part two for this hehe.

Warning for mentions of blood, injuries, insecurities, and anxiety. Oh, yeah; don’t forget the dragon telepathy.

Sawyer knew something was up when you didn’t meet him outside the Gathering Hall. 

It wasn’t like you to be late for…Well, anything, much less seeing him. He certainly wasn’t an anxious person, but it made his fingers twitch with nervousness when he didn’t spot your cautious frame lingering close to the sides of the hall. He waited anyway. He’d always wait for you.

At the ten-minute mark, his thoughts began to race. He could understand if you stayed behind for a word with one of your professors – you were a genius, anyway. Perhaps you could have gone off-track to help another cadet in need of extra notes. That was just in your nature (even though Sawyer and Ridoc had tried to convince you to charge a couple coins for it – you’d be swimming in gold by now). Maybe you were in the infirmary with your friend…Eden, was it? Emily? He could barely remember.

But no. Another fifteen minutes slowly ticked by, and his reasonable side began to veer off a little. Maybe you’d been injured somehow. Maybe the other cadets had finally taken advantage of your anxious, gentle nature and were in the middle of ganging up on you. Maybe they’d finally gotten you – the Marked cadets who weren’t too fond of you for what your parents, Navarrian military legends, had done to them.

He heard Sliseag’s chiding voice resound in the back of his mind. Easy there, Ashling, he soothed. Do not worry too much. She is exactly where she is meant to be.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. I would beg to differ, he replied, trying to calm his racing heart. If she was in the right place, I wouldn’t be talking to you right now.

The dragon snorted. Really, now? he mused. Look up.

Sawyer had just turned, his palms sweaty, when he saw a figure moving sluggishly in his peripherals. He squinted, then froze, the sight making his blood run cold.

You finally showed up…But you looked awful.

Damaged was the best word to describe it. Your hair was messy, your bangs falling in your face in a way it only looked after an intense flight. One of your eyes was swollen shut, and the rest of your face was battered. Your bottom lip was split and bleeding, the blood oozing out sluggishly and staining your chin crimson. That was only your face; the rest of your body was probably just as bruised and injured.

Go, he heard Sliseag urge. Go to her now. She needs you, Ashling.

He broke out of his trance; he couldn’t run fast enough to get to you, his legs moving on what felt like autopilot. Gods. What did they do to you?

You held up a hand when he neared you. “I’m fine,” you whispered hoarsely. “I…It looks worse than it feels.”

Sliseag made a noise of disapproval in his mind. I doubt that.

Sawyer, in that moment, felt almost scared to touch you, as if putting his fingers anywhere would shatter you like glass.

Finally, he found his voice. “What the hell happened to you?” he murmured, wincing at how sick he sounded. His eyes traced your face; you still looked gorgeous as ever, but just looking at your good eye made his heart wrench.

“We,” you began, faltering as you fell forward a bit. Sawyer caught you with ease, splaying a hand on your back as you leaned into him. “We had RSC. I…I didn’t expect for it to be so…awful.”

You looked down, and Sawyer made a soft sound of protest as he lifted your chin back up to face his. Skies above, he thought. He’d seen you injured before, obviously – there was no avoiding that at Basgiath. But this…

“Oh, darling,” he murmured, ghosting a kiss on your forehead. “I’m so sorry. You…You haven’t been to the infirmary yet?”

You shook your head. “No. I saw a clock and remembered we agreed to meet up. Wanted to see you first.”

Oh, he thought. Damn you, you sweet, sweet girl. Damn you and your loveliness. 

He sighed quietly, glancing at the sky. It was getting close to dusk, which meant that the infirmary was probably winding down for the day. His gaze flitted back down to your trembling form, his heart aching.

“Do you want to go?” he asked, hoping he didn’t sound pushy. “I’m sure your friend is still there; she’d be willing–”

His voice trailed off when you vehemently shook your head. “No,” you said softly. “Not now. Can we…Can we just go to yours?”

At that moment, with you looking up at him hopefully, your good eye wide but exhausted, Sawyer would have given you just about anything. 

He nodded, perhaps a little too hard. “Of course, darling. Just hold on to me. I don’t trust your legs right now.”

The pained smile you gave him twists his heart. “I don’t, either.”

It took a little while, but the two of you finally made it to his dorm in relative silence, save for the pained gasps and whimpers that occasionally fell from your swollen lips. The whole time, Sawyer was clenching his teeth. It didn’t matter that RSC was something that happened to everyone – not even his injuries hadn’t looked this rough.

He sat you down gently on his bed. He didn’t want to leave you, not when you looked that beat up, but he pushed that aside to grab the little box of medical supplies you kept in his room for when he was beat up after sparring. If you weren’t huddled beside him looking more fragile than he’d ever seen you, he would have made a joke about it.

You’d already removed your jacket and shirt, leaving your torso bare save for the bindings you always wore. Sawyer relaxed for a moment before he took note of your ribs, black and blue bruising rippling up both sides. Save for that, though, and other bruising and – Gods forbid, handprints – you honestly didn’t look too terrible.

He brushed your bangs away from your face, tilting your chin up so he could assess the damage. “Have you tried mending yourself?”

You sighed, sounding almost disappointed in yourself. “No. I’ve never tried that, but it won’t work, anyway. I tried to mend Anya’s arm after it got dislocated, but it didn’t work. I’m either terrible with my signet, or the injury was too bad, or–”

He cut you off before you could delve deeper into self-doubt. “No,” he assured you, taking a wet rag and wiping the blood on your chin. “They tampered with your water. It’s supposed to dull your signet and cut you off from your dragon to feel more realistic.”

Your lips formed an O in realization. “So that’s why I couldn’t feel Cridhe,” you mumbled, hissing in pain once he actually touched your lip. “I got worried there for a while.”

He nodded, ducking his head lower to check the area around your neck. There was an angry red line around your throat; someone had tried to choke you, he assumed. Bastard.

“I know,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. “When they took me, the serum didn’t wear off for about a day. I thought Sliseag randomly chose to hate me or something.”

The aforementioned scoffed softly. As if, Ashling, he muttered. I didn’t choose you just to leave you behind.

The words warmed Sawyer’s heart long enough that your silence didn’t bother him for the next few minutes while he looked you over.

He only paused when you spoke softly, your voice faint. “I…think I have a concussion,” you mumble. “The light hurts, and I’m dizzy.”

A tight-lipped smile fought its way onto Sawyer’s face. “Trust you to diagnose yourself barely an hour after it happens.”

You don’t respond, prompting Sawyer to lean back up and look into your eyes. Sure enough, your pupils were unfocused and exhausted. Smart girl.

He opened his mouth to make another little quip, only for it to die on his tongue once you leaned into his side.

“Tired?” he prompted you gently. A soft hum from you confirmed his suspicions, and he hesitated for a moment before relenting. He could carry you to Nolan or a healer in the morning, after you slept the night away.

He looked away for a moment, and you had somehow managed to snag a random shirt off his floor and slip it on. His eyes softened, and he reached over to help you out of your pants and under his covers. You looked so…unusually small in his bed, curled in on yourself like a flower without the sun to warm it. He didn’t even bother to change out of his uniform, opting to kick off his boots and leave himself in his undershirt as he settled next to you. You slowly unfurled from your tense position and rested your head on his chest. Pure bliss.

You both lay there in silence for what seemed like hours before Sawyer found his voice again, feeling weirdly sentimental. “I’m gonna go out on a limb and assume you don’t want to talk about it.”

Your silence was an answer enough.

“Thought so,” he murmured. “That’s okay. We don’t have to. Just…I hope you know that I’ll never let that happen to you when the time comes. Whoever it was, they’d have to kill me first to get to you.”

More silence from you. Sawyer thought for a moment that you fell asleep, but his eyes popped back open once he heard your weary voice.

“Sawyer?”

“Yes, darling?”

A beat. Two beats.

“Thank you for this. I didn’t want to be anywhere besides here.”

…You don’t have to thank me, he thinks, a pained smile tugging at his mouth. I’d do anything and more for you, anyway.

[chaoticneutraltor]

[angstywaifu]

Fourth Wing Boys Head Cannons - Accidental/Unplanned Pregnancy

These are based around the battle at the end of Iron Flame. So if you have not read Iron Flame, the below will contain spoilers for some of our boys.

Masterlist | Support Me

Garrick

He would be as still as a statue. You aren’t even sure he’s even breathing as he looks down at you wide eyed. You were both on the tonic, but clearly there must have been a faulty batch. The healers were adamant. You were pregnant.

After a few moments he’d snap out of it, brow furrowing as he thinks everything over in his head. “Are you sure? Did you get-“ you cut him off with a nod, which is all he needs to shut his mouth and nod.

You could tell what he was thinking. This was no time to be having a child. Not in the midst of a rebellion. Not a rebellion you both had prominent parts in. Not when Xaden needed him.

After a few tense moments of Garrick being stoney faced and reserved, a small smile would start to pull at the corners of his mouth. Which honestly surprised you. Before you Garrick wasn’t really the relationship kind of guy. You even falling into that category a few times till another rider had showed interest after you were both sent to Samara.

“Really picked the perfect time to fall pregnant didn’t you?” He teases before to swat his arm, his usual booming laugh breaking through the tension that was now nowhere to be seen.

Despite the teasing joke you could tell he was nervous, worried and unsure. Especially as he pulls you against him, resting his head atop yours as it rests against his chest. His heart beating erratically underneath, a start contrast to calm demeanour he was trying to output.

Bodhi

He drops whatever he was holding, staring at you with shock as he goes utterly still. Wide eyed, mouth open as he just looks at you.

He goes to talk multiple times but keeps shutting his mouth, clearly unsure what to say. Eventually starting to pace back and forth till you grasp his hand.

His eyes snap to yours, some of the panic dissipating ever so slightly as he relaxes at your touch, the small circles you rub onto the back of his hand with your thumb grounding him.

His free hand comes up to run through his black wavy hair. “You’re sure? Like 100% sure?” He asks nervously.

You nod up at him, his eyes going wide again, but you note the corners of his mouth pulling up. You know the nervousness and panic comes from the rebellion. It’s not ideal timing. But now there’s not much you can do.

Panic flares again in Bodhi’s eyes, his hand tightening around yours. “Xaden’s going to kill me”

Xaden

it’s not often you see Xaden caught out or surprised. In fact you can’t remember ever seeing him like that. And yet here he is, staring at you, still as a statue. Not a single emotion or reaction detectable on his face. Almost like he was expecting the news.

“Fuck.” He finally says before walking over to you, his eyes glued on your stomach which currently shows no signs of the baby inside.

You can see him thinking over everything in his head. Every possibility and scenario playing out.

“You have to promise to not be reckless anymore. I can’t risk loosing you two. Ok?” His words coming out almost like a command, but there’s that slight hint of worry that softens his words. You know he just wants to protect you, and that you’ll definitely be tacking a back seat going forward.

Brennan

He pinches the bridge of his nose, pacing back and forth as he mutters to himself. It reminds you so much of Violet and how she recites facts to calm herself and focus.

Back and forth, back and forth, you’re sure he’s going to wear a track in the floor at this rate. You reach out and grab his hand to stop him.

His amber eyes instantly soften as he looks at you. “I was doing the thing, wasn’t I?” He asks as he purses his lips, knowing he slipped into planning mode. You nod at him and smile. “Yeah, you kinda did.”

He smiles down at you, and instantly you feel like everything is going to be ok. Is it good timing? Gods no. Especially with the Venin advancing on Navarre. And especially now they know Brennan is alive.

“We’ll make it work. We always do.” He tells you softly, reaching up and caressing your cheek.

Dain

This man is in denial. How could this happen? You were both on the tonic. And that tonic has never failed. Every logical situation runs through his head. There’s no way this could have happened. Unless….

“Did you stop taking the tonic?” He asks, tones almost accusing as he walks up to you, a hand raised towards your face. He lowers it wicking when he sees the anger on your face, answering his question immediately.

He would be spiraling. In a matter of weeks he’s gone from being the golden child, helping to get rid of the marked ones. And now here he was in Aretia, fighting against everything he’s always known, and now you’re pregnant.

He reaches out and takes your hands, grasping them in his as he lets out a shaky breath. “Really took disappointing my dad to a whole new level didn’t I?”

Sawyer

He would be shocked, looking at you like he doesn’t believe you. Like the words didn’t just leave your lips. But they did. You were pregnant with his child.

Despite the seriousness of the situation you were all in he would embrace you immediately.

“You’re not mad?” You ask him as he pulls away. “Gods no. Is it terrible timing? Probably, but we’ll make it work.”

Which feels like it won’t as you sit next to his bed, his leg now missing as you grip onto his hand like a lifeline. Everyone else had gone, leaving just you with him. None of them aware of what was looming over you.

He lightly squeezes your hand, your eyes snapping to his as he lazily smiles at you. You engulf him in a hug, completely forgetting about his injury. You start sobbing all the thoughts tumbling around your head. Sawyer just embraces you tighter, whispering you’ll make it work. It has to. Especially with the ring he wears on a chain around his neck. Waiting for the perfect moment.

Ridoc

He literally thinks you’re joking, trying to pull some prank on him like he does to literally everyone else. But once he sees the way you’re looking at him he goes silent. Ridoc who is never silent. And yet here you are taking the words right out of his mouth.

“Holy shit you’re not joking are you?” He finally asks you. When you shake your head at him he gets so excited.

It might not be the best time with everything going on, but he’s too excited to care right now.

He runs out the door to find Sawyer screaming “I’m going to be a dad!”

So much for keeping that quiet. The whole of Aretia knows with how louds he’s yelling and screaming.

[violetsorengail]

back to negotiations :)

[soulofapatrick]

Don’t Tempt Me - Xaden Riorson x female reader

Summary: Xaden finds you burnt out on the training field 

Warnings: none 

Words: 6k (somehow)

Notes: Not my fave and not proofread

Y/N's POV

The sun hangs low over Basgiath, bleeding gold and deep crimson across the sky, its light casting jagged shadows over the towering battlements. The war college looms around me, its stone walls unyielding, its presence as foreboding as ever. The air is thick with the lingering scent of sweat and scorched leather, remnants of a day spent in brutal training.

The air is thick with the scent of fresh earth and damp stone as I sprint across the training yard, my feet pounding the ground with a rhythm that feels like a heartbeat—a constant reminder of my inadequacies. Sweat drips down my forehead, stinging my eyes, but I refuse to wipe it away. I don’t have time to care about that. I only have time to run.

Over and over, I push myself to the brink, my body screaming in protest, muscles tight with fatigue. My breaths are ragged, desperate for air that feels like it's slowly being stolen from me. But the pain doesn’t matter. It’s nothing compared to the quiet voice inside my head, the one that whispers my doubts and my fears, the one that tells me I’m not enough.

You can’t keep doing this.

It’s Virethalon’s voice. Low, firm, and impossibly calm, like he always is when he sees me teetering on the edge. His presence pulses in my mind, filling the quiet spaces with a calm I can’t find within myself.

Stop, he says again, the warning clear. You’ll burn out before you ever get the chance to fly.

But I ignore him. I have to. I can’t stop, not when the weight of everyone’s expectations hangs so heavily on my shoulders. I can’t afford to be weak. I can’t afford to be what everyone expects—a failure.

My legs scream, my body trembling with every step, but I push harder. Faster. A flip, a backflip, then a roll, twisting midair in an effort to improve my reaction time, my agility. I force my limbs to obey, despite how they beg for rest, despite how my mind is breaking under the strain.

I am not enough. I’m not strong enough to make it here.

Each fall, each misstep echoes the same message in my mind: You don’t belong.

The words are a sting in my chest, sharp and bitter, poisoning the air in front of me. The instructors don’t believe in me, not truly. They’re waiting for me to break, to fail in front of everyone. The other cadets—they’re watching too, eager to see how long I’ll last.

Stop.

Virethalon’s voice is more insistent now, rising with frustration. I know he’s watching, can feel his eyes on me, even though he’s nowhere near. You don’t need to prove anything.

I don’t stop. I can’t. If I stop now, the quiet, haunting voice of failure will take over. If I stop, I’ll feel it—the shame of not being able to meet the impossible standard everyone else expects from me.

The ground shifts beneath me as I sprint forward, my foot catching on something, my body twisting unnaturally in the air. For a split second, time seems to stretch—slow, agonising. And then, I crash.

The world flips. My body slams into the earth, my hands and knees taking the brunt of it. The impact rattles my bones, sharp and unforgiving. My breath is knocked out of me, and for a moment, I just lay there, feeling the tremor of my body as it tries to recover from the shock.

I’m not moving. I can’t move.

Gentle hands find my shoulders before I can even process what’s happening. The pressure is firm yet careful, guiding me, coaxing me into a sitting position. My body trembles from exhaustion, every muscle protesting the movement, every joint aching with the weight of my own failure. I try to steady myself, but the effort makes the world spin, and I can’t seem to get my bearings.

The cold stone beneath me is a cruel reminder of how far I’ve pushed myself. My hands shake, fingers stiff from too much strain, and I finally drop my head, trying to hide the rush of heat that floods my face.

And then, I feel him.

His presence looms over me like a shadow, suffocating and unavoidable. My heart skips a beat, and I immediately wish I could melt into the ground, anything to escape the situation. But it’s too late.

I glance up—my breath catches as I come face to face with him. Xaden Riorson. He stands before me, looking like a damn god, his tall, muscular frame casting a shadow over me. The way his wide shoulders fill out his leather jacket should be illegal. He’s built like someone who’s spent years training and fighting, his chest massive, arms heavily muscled. His dark hair is windblown and tousled, the kind of messy that only makes him look more dangerous. His tawny-brown skin is kissed by the sun, and the dark stubble along his jawline only adds to the rough, untamed look. His eyes—gold-flecked onyx—are locked on mine with an intensity that makes me feel like I’m about to be set ablaze, and I would rather do anything else than face him like this.

I rub my face with both hands, hoping to hide the blush that’s rising to my cheeks. Of all the ways for this to end—of course, it’s Xaden Riorson who catches me. And of course, he looks like that.

“What the hell are you doing?” he growls, his voice a deep rumble of anger that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “You’re an idiot.”

I blink, half-frozen, half in disbelief. The audacity. “Oh, wow. Thank you, Wing Leader,” I drawl, sarcasm practically dripping from my tongue. “You really know how to make a girl feel special.”

Xaden’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t bite back—at least, not yet. Instead, his eyes flicker over me, and I know he’s assessing the damage. My exhaustion. The way I’m trembling, barely able to hold myself upright. It’s the worst feeling in the world. I’m embarrassed as hell that he’s seeing me like this—weak, on the edge of crumbling.

“I told you to stop before you reached this point,” he mutters, shaking his head. There’s an edge of frustration in his tone now, and I can’t decide if I want to hit something or laugh at how he sounds like he’s scolding a child.

“Yeah, well, you know me,” I say, wiping a bead of sweat off my brow, trying to make myself sound more in control than I feel. “Can’t resist proving everyone wrong.” I let out a bitter laugh, the kind that doesn’t reach my eyes. “But, hey, thanks for showing up and saving the day. Just what every soldier needs: an overbearing Wing Leader.”

A flash of something—maybe amusement, maybe exasperation—crosses his face, but it’s gone too quickly for me to read it properly. His dark brows furrow, and he steps closer, invading my space. “You’re burning yourself out. You can’t keep going like this.”

I force myself to sit up straighter, determined not to appear as weak as I feel, but I can’t hide the tremor in my limbs. The ache in my muscles is almost unbearable now, and Virethalon’s voice echoes through my mind—Stop, or you’ll destroy yourself. But I ignore it, as I have for hours.

I grit my teeth. “I don’t need your help, okay? I don’t need anyone’s help.”

I try to push myself to my feet, but my body betrays me, buckling underneath me like a broken chair. I stumble, gasping for breath, my hand reaching out for support but finding nothing.

Xaden’s eyes flash with anger again, but his movements are faster than I can process. He’s at my side in a heartbeat, and before I can even protest, he lifts me up, cradling me against him in one smooth, powerful motion. His arms are like iron around me, and my body, still trembling with exhaustion, goes stiff against him.

“What the hell are you doing?” I gasp, still trying to regain some semblance of control. I push against his chest—unsuccessfully—my arms too weak to do anything more than flop uselessly at my sides. “Put me down, you asshole!”

Xaden doesn’t respond immediately. He doesn’t have to. His grip tightens, holding me effortlessly against him as he carries me toward the barracks. “I told you to stop, but you never listen. So now you’re paying the price.” His tone is laced with annoyance, but there’s something else beneath it—something that makes my heart twist. Maybe it’s concern, maybe it’s guilt, but I can’t focus on that. I’m too busy trying to avoid the heat that floods my face.

“You’re such a prick,” I mutter, my voice half muffled by his chest. I’m so fucking embarrassed, and I hate that I feel this way. His warmth, his scent, is all-consuming, and my skin burns at the contact. But I refuse to admit it. “I don’t need you to carry me like some helpless baby.”

“Funny,” he says, his voice low, “because you sure look like one right now.”

I can practically hear the smirk in his voice, and I want to punch him. I should punch him. But I don’t have the energy, so I settle for biting my lip, muttering curses under my breath as he carries me.

The weight of his presence presses against me, and I can feel his muscles shifting beneath me, each movement of his body reminding me of just how powerful he is. And for all my protests, for all my sarcasm, I don’t want to admit that I’m secretly grateful. Grateful that he’s here. Grateful that he doesn’t let me fall apart.

Even if it means I have to endure his endless teasing.

Xaden’s warm eyes flicker down at me, and this time, there’s something softer there. Almost like...he understands. But I’m too stubborn to let myself believe it.

Xaden doesn’t say a word as he carries me through the barracks, the warmth of his body pressing against mine as I try to ignore the heat rising in my cheeks. I’m too tired to fight it. His presence is too overwhelming, and I can feel his heartbeat steady against me. Every step he takes is calculated, strong, as though it’s second nature for him to carry someone in his arms like this. It’s as if he’s done it a hundred times—though I have to wonder just how many times I’ve crossed his mind before today.

Xaden moves with a quiet grace, his large frame effortlessly navigating the corridors of the dorm building as though he’s done this a thousand times before. He steps softly, almost soundlessly, his footsteps absorbed by the shadows that seem to cling to him like a second skin. My heart races, but it's not from exertion anymore—it's the way he's so effortlessly commanding in everything he does. The weight of his arms around me, the heat radiating from his body, and the way my mind seems to short-circuit whenever I’m near him make it hard to think straight.

We pass the first-year rooms—mine included—and I can’t help but cringe at the thought of being caught sneaking past curfew. But Xaden moves with such precision, such mastery of his surroundings, that the idea of us being caught seems laughable. No one can hear us, no one even notices us. It’s like we’re ghosts, gliding past the rooms, unseen by anyone else.

I briefly wonder how he does it—how he’s so adept at slipping through the shadows, unnoticed, silent. But then, he’s always been a mystery to me. The kind of mystery I’ve never quite been able to figure out. And maybe, in a way, I don't want to.

Finally, we reach the staircase that leads to the upper floors, and with a swift glance in either direction, Xaden steps into the shadows, carrying me effortlessly up the stairs. We move past the landing and down the hallway to the last door—the one I know leads to his room. He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t pause, and with a final quiet push of the door, we’re inside.

Xaden doesn’t put me down right away. His arms remain around me, his hold firm, as if he’s unwilling to let go. As if, for a brief moment, he’s afraid to lose the connection. The closeness between us feels suffocating, overwhelming, and yet I can’t bring myself to pull away. Every inch of my body is acutely aware of his presence, the heat of his skin seeping into mine, the muscle and strength in his arms keeping me held too close. I can feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat against me, mirroring the frantic pulse racing through my veins.

His dark eyes meet mine, and I swear, for a second, everything else falls away. His gaze is fierce, like a storm trapped behind his irises, flickering with a raw intensity that sends a wave of heat rushing through me. I’m suddenly aware of how painfully close we are—so close that if I moved even an inch, I’d be pressed against him completely. My breath catches, and I can’t look away, trapped in the gravity of his stare, like he’s pulling me toward him without even trying. And then, as if trying to fight whatever is building between us, his eyes flicker to my lips, and I feel it—the pull—stronger than anything I’ve ever felt.

But just as quickly as the moment seems to rise, he jerks his gaze away, his jaw tightening with the effort to control himself. It’s like he’s trying to push back the part of him that’s aware—aware of the magnetic pull between us, aware of how much he’s been fighting this… whatever this is. He shakes his head slightly, as though dismissing the thought entirely, like he’s trying to shut down the desire that flares in him. But I see it in his eyes—the flicker of something primal. Something I can’t ignore.

Finally, he sets me down, but he doesn’t let go immediately. He’s still so close that I can feel his breath on my skin, a whisper of warmth against the cold, the tension stretching taut between us, like a string pulled too tight. My pulse races as I settle onto the bed, the soft covers pressing against me, but my chest feels like it’s about to burst. I try to catch my breath, but it’s like the air in the room has thickened, heavy with unsaid words and the suffocating weight of everything unsaid.

Xaden doesn’t back away. He hovers, towering over me, his presence suffusing the space around us. I can feel the heat radiating off him, his body just a breath away, and every inch of me is screaming to close the distance. But I don’t move. I’m not sure I can. His nearness makes every part of me ache, makes every nerve light up, thrumming with the raw electricity that crackles between us.

His voice cuts through the thick silence, deep and steady, but there’s something almost... softer now, something gentler that makes my heart stutter. “Stay here,” he commands, his words pressing down on me like a physical weight, making my chest tighten. The force of his tone is undeniable, but there’s an undercurrent of something else—something that makes my stomach flutter. Something dangerous and thrilling all at once. "Be a good girl. Don’t go anywhere.”

I feel those words in my bones, in the very marrow of my being. The way he says it—it’s like a promise, a command that makes my heart race faster than it should. And yet, there’s a tenderness beneath it, a strange gentleness that pulls at me, twists my insides into knots. He wants to keep me here, close. He wants to possess this moment with me, even though I can feel the struggle in him—his body yearning to cross the line, but his mind pulling him back, trying to control what’s growing between us.

His gaze holds mine, unwavering, and I swear I see something break in his eyes—something raw and unspoken. It’s as if he’s holding himself back from doing something he knows would be too much, too dangerous. But the look in his eyes tells me everything I need to know: the battle is far from over, and this tension—this charge—it’s only just beginning.

I try to swallow, but my throat is dry. Every muscle in my body is taut, every nerve alive with an electric hum. Xaden disappears into the adjoining ensuite, his heavy footsteps echoing softly across the stone floor. I can hear the gentle hiss of the water filling the tub, the steady flow of it working in rhythm with the hammering of my heart. The tension between us lingers, the silence more suffocating now than ever before, and I can’t shake the feeling of his gaze still lingering on me even as he disappears from the room.

I should feel grateful for the space—should breathe, slow my pulse—but all I can think of is him. The way he’s so effortlessly commanding, yet there’s this softness beneath it that I can't quite place. The way he had looked at me, his expression a battle between restraint and something far more intense.

My fingers twitch, almost compulsively, and I reach for my boots, needing to do something. My body is still shaking from the exertion, from the near-collapse, and now my brain feels fuzzy, the exhaustion creeping in faster than I expected. I should just wait, I know I should, but I feel... out of control. I need to regain some semblance of normalcy, something to anchor me.

I struggle to bend down, but my balance is still far off from the punishment I just put my body through. My vision swims a little, and before I can register what’s happening, my body tips forward, sending me sprawling from the edge of the bed with a yelp. The floor greets me hard, and a shock of pain shoots up my spine, but it's nothing compared to the embarrassment that floods through me in waves. My pulse spikes, and I scramble, feeling utterly ridiculous.

A sharp, almost instinctive growl of frustration rises in the air—Xaden. He’s already moving quickly, a blur of motion as he rushes back into the room, his broad form filling the doorway in an instant. His dark eyes sweep over me, a flicker of concern passing through them, but it’s quickly replaced with something harder—almost irritated.

"You really are a disaster, aren't you?" His voice is deep, but there's a teasing bite to it, even as he crosses the room toward me in strides that eat up the distance. I can’t even find it in me to be offended. I’m too busy feeling like a complete fool.

Before I can open my mouth to respond, he’s crouching in front of me, his hands reaching for my arms to steady me. The sheer strength in his touch almost knocks the wind out of me as he helps me back onto my feet, the warmth of his hands traveling through my skin and straight to my chest. He doesn’t say anything else, but the way his eyes linger on me for a moment, as though making sure I’m okay, sends something fluttering nervously in my stomach.

“Try not to break anything else, would you?” His voice is softer now, as though the weight of the moment has finally broken through that icy exterior of his. His lips curve into a smirk, but there’s no denying the genuine care beneath the sarcasm.

Xaden moves with quiet precision, his hands wrapping around my waist, gentle but firm, as he guides me toward the bed. The heat from his touch lingers on my skin, and despite everything, I can't help but shiver. His grip is unyielding, his presence surrounding me, and as I sit on the edge of the bed, he stands in front of me, towering over me. The dim light from the room casts shadows across his features, making him look even more intimidating than usual, but there’s something in his eyes that betrays the mask he’s trying so hard to maintain.

His hands rest on my knees for a moment, and his gaze flickers to mine. There’s a question there, unspoken, something almost vulnerable beneath that stoic expression. I can see the battle waging in his eyes. He doesn’t want to touch me—at least, that’s what his expression says. But his eyes… those eyes of molten gold flecked with onyx… they betray him, flashing with an intensity I can’t quite read.

And then, in a moment that feels both like an eternity and a breath, Xaden sinks to his knees in front of me. The movement is fluid, almost too graceful, and my heart skips a beat. It feels wrong to be this close, too intimate. His presence is overwhelming, and I can feel the tension in the room thickening with every inch of space he closes between us.

Xaden kneels before me, his hands gentle but firm as he removes my boots. His touch is careful, almost reverent, but the tension is unmistakable. Each movement is deliberate, like he's holding himself back from something. The weight of his gaze on me is intense—smouldering, even—and I can feel every inch of him watching, noticing, memorising.

As he pulls off the second boot, his fingers brush against my calf, sending a jolt through me. My breath catches, and I instinctively tense, but it's more from the electric charge between us than the discomfort of my body. I don’t know why it affects me like this—this man who’s never once been shy about hiding the way he feels or thinking that his touch doesn’t matter—but in this moment, it matters. It matters more than it should.

He looks up then, his gaze locking onto mine. The heat in his eyes is unmistakable, a dark storm brewing just beneath the surface. His brow furrows slightly, and for a split second, I wonder if he’s questioning something—me, himself, what we’re both doing here, like this. But then his eyes flick lower, and I can see the hesitation there, a silent question that hangs in the air between us.

His fingers hover at the waistband of my tracksuit bottoms, brushing lightly against my hips. The touch is almost too soft, as if he’s trying to gauge my reaction before crossing a line that’s already dangerously blurred. He doesn’t say a word—he doesn’t have to. The question is in his eyes, in the way his lips part ever so slightly, in the subtle tension in his jaw. It’s an unspoken request, one that I know all too well.

I can feel the pulse of uncertainty in my veins, but something about this—about him—makes me lower my defences, just a little. Without even thinking, I raise my hips slightly, just enough to give him the signal. My movement is small, almost imperceptible, but it's enough. His breath hitches, and I can see the way his eyes flicker, a momentary loss of control before he tightens his grip on his composure.

Xaden exhales sharply, like he’s been holding his breath all this time, and I can see it in his expression—the struggle between what he wants and what he’s trying so hard to resist. His fingers slide beneath the waistband of my tracksuit bottoms, and I feel the slightest tremor in his touch. He’s slow, deliberate, like he’s savouring the moment, but also like he’s afraid that if he moves too quickly, the entire thing might shatter.

The air between us crackles with an electric tension, and as he helps me out of the fabric, I’m left feeling exposed in a way that’s more than physical. My heartbeat is louder than anything else, pounding in my ears, and for a moment, I forget about the aches in my body, the bruises, the exhaustion. It’s as though the world has narrowed to just us. Just this. And I can’t seem to pull away from him, from the way he makes me feel, from the way his hands linger a little too long at the edge of my clothing, as if to remind me that he sees me—every part of me.

I know it’s not supposed to feel this way, not like this. But every glance, every touch, every quiet, unspoken word between us is enough to unravel the careful walls I’ve built. And yet, even as he pulls the tracksuit bottoms off, his hands gentle but insistent, there’s something else in his eyes—something that tells me he’s fighting every urge to touch me, to kiss me. But he doesn’t. He never does.

I can’t decide whether that makes it harder or easier.

And when he finishes, leaving me in nothing but my sports bra and panties, I feel more vulnerable than I’ve ever been—completely at his mercy, exposed in more ways than one. The air is thick with unspoken words, and even as I sit there, trying to catch my breath, I know this isn’t over.

Xaden lets out a frustrated sound, a low, throaty growl that resonates deep in his chest. His breath stutters as his forehead falls gently to my thigh, the weight of it anchoring me in place. The intensity of the moment is suffocating, like the world around us has slowed to a stop, leaving only the two of us, tangled in something we can’t deny. His hands are gripping the edge of the bed, his knuckles white, and I can feel the tension in his body, a tight coil of restraint and hunger.

And then, in one swift, desperate motion, he surges upward, his lips crashing against mine. There’s no warning, no hesitation. Just pure, raw need. His mouth takes mine with a fierce intensity that leaves me breathless, as though he’s been holding back for far too long and now there’s no more control. It’s like he’s been starved for this—starved for me—and he doesn’t want to let me go, not even for a second.

I kiss him back with everything I have, my hands finding the sides of his face, pulling him closer, as if I can’t get enough. Every part of me feels alive with the heat between us, my skin tingling where his fingers brush against it, my heart thudding erratically in my chest. He tastes like fire—burning hot, consuming—and I can’t help but fall into him, into the kiss, into the feeling of him. I can feel the weight of his body pressing against mine, the strength of him, but it’s not overbearing. It’s grounding, like he’s pulling me into his orbit.

His hands move quickly, urgently, as if he’s afraid the moment will slip away from him. Before I can fully comprehend what’s happening, he’s lifting me effortlessly from the bed, and suddenly I’m straddling his thighs. His hands settle on my hips, holding me in place, the heat of his body radiating into mine. I can feel the way his pulse races beneath his skin, the way his chest rises and falls against mine. The kiss deepens, growing even more frantic, and I don’t know whether it’s the intensity of it or the way he’s holding me that makes everything else feel so insignificant.

He pulls me closer, his hands guiding me with a possessive, yet gentle touch, and I can feel the thrum of energy between us, something electric, something undeniable. My fingers tangle in his hair, tugging him closer, and the sound of his breathing, his heavy exhales, fills the space between us. I can hear the way he’s fighting for control, the way his muscles tighten with the effort of keeping his composure.

But I don’t want him to. I don’t want him to hold back.

I don’t want him to fight it anymore.

I can feel the heat of his body through the thin fabric of my sports bra, his chest pressing against mine with each movement, and I’m acutely aware of how close we are, how easy it would be to lose ourselves completely in this. And yet, even as we continue kissing, tangled in each other’s embrace, there’s a part of me that’s still unsure, still trying to catch up with everything happening around me. But when his hands slide down to my thighs, gripping them with such possessiveness, that uncertainty melts away, replaced by a heady rush of desire.

The kiss breaks, but just for a moment, both of us gasping for air. His lips hover above mine, and I can see the raw intensity in his eyes, a mixture of frustration and something else—something far more tender, even if it’s buried beneath the layers of urgency.

"Don't stop," he mutters, his voice rough and low. His hands tighten around me, pulling me against him, as if he’s trying to make sure I’m real. “Please don’t stop.”

And all I can do is nod, my chest still rising and falling with the rapid pace of my heart. I don't want to stop either.

The air between us feels thick with heat, charged with a tension that I don't want to break, even as the reality of what we’re doing begins to settle in. Xaden’s hands are still firm on my hips, his grip tightening with every shift of my body, and I can feel every muscle in his form, every bit of control he's holding onto, fighting to stay composed. He pulls me closer again, the fabric of my sports bra barely separating us, his chest brushing against mine as he presses his forehead to mine, both of us gasping for breath.

The heat from his skin, the closeness of his body, is too much to ignore. It's overwhelming in the best way. I can hear my own pulse hammering in my ears, feel the electricity between us that neither of us can escape. He looks at me, his gold-flecked eyes searching mine, his breath ragged as if he's barely holding on to the edge of whatever control he has left.

I can't stop myself from raising my hand to touch his face, my fingers trailing down the line of his jaw, tracing the hard curve of his chin, feeling the roughness of his stubble. The tenderness in my touch makes him shiver, his breath catching in his throat, and for a brief second, everything else fades. There’s no training, no curfew, no expectations—just the two of us, caught in something far more complex than either of us ever intended.

His lips brush against mine once more, a soft, tentative kiss, but it feels more intimate than the previous fiery moments. It's full of the unspoken things, the feelings we've been hiding, buried beneath layers of duty and unacknowledged desire. Xaden pulls back slowly, just enough to look at me, his eyes heavy with something unreadable.

"I—" he starts, his voice thick with emotion, but I stop him, my fingers pressing gently to his lips.

“I know," I whisper. "I know, Xaden. We don’t need to say it.”

The words hang in the air between us, unspoken yet understood. He looks at me, really looks at me, and for once, there’s no pretension, no walls between us. Just a moment of raw honesty.

But then, he pulls back just a fraction, his hands slowly loosening their grip on me, as if reluctant to let go but knowing he has to. His eyes soften, a flicker of something tender passing over his features before he runs a hand through his windblown hair, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

“You should rest,” he murmurs, though there’s a trace of something unreadable in his voice. “You’ve pushed yourself too hard tonight.”

I nod, feeling the weight of his words as the adrenaline from our moment starts to ebb away, leaving me with a sense of vulnerability, of exhaustion I hadn’t realised had been creeping up on me. My body is still sore from the training, but now, there’s an ache of a different kind, a deep, resonating need I’m not sure how to deal with.

“You’re right,” I murmur, my voice hoarse. “About that bath…”

Xaden’s hands gently guide me to my feet, his fingers lingering on my hips just a moment longer than necessary, as if making sure I’m steady before he lets go. His touch is firm but considerate, grounding me, reminding me that he’s here, present, in this moment. I almost wish he didn’t have to pull away so soon, but the space between us feels impossible to close for reasons I can’t quite name.

With a soft grunt, Xaden rises to his full height, towering over me for a moment before he reaches down and picks me up again, effortlessly moving me toward the bed. His strong arms encircle my waist, and I feel the heat radiating from his chest, the power in his body that he keeps so carefully controlled. He sets me down gently on the edge of the mattress, the softness of the sheets a stark contrast to the tension that still crackles in the air between us.

I sit there for a moment, watching him, as he turns toward the bathroom, his broad back stretching as he moves, his muscular frame rippling with every step. His windblown black hair falls just above his collar, and I can't help but stare at the way he walks—confident, purposeful, but there’s an undercurrent of something, a quiet storm inside him that’s barely contained.

The silence feels heavy, too heavy, until I finally speak up, the words tumbling out before I can stop them.

“... Maybe you could join me?”

The moment they leave my mouth, time seems to slow. Xaden freezes in his tracks, his hand hovering over the doorframe, his back to me. For a breathless second, I wonder if he didn’t hear me, if the words just got lost in the space between us. But then, the tension in his body is palpable. His shoulders tighten, his jaw clenches, and I watch as a low, almost imperceptible sound slips from his throat—a frustrated, breathy exhale that he seems to be holding back with all his strength.

He doesn’t turn around right away, but when he does, his eyes meet mine, and there's a flicker of something dangerous there. It’s not anger. It’s hunger—raw, palpable, and so intense that it sends a shiver down my spine. I can't look away, can't tear my gaze from his. The silence between us stretches, thickening, until I can almost feel the heat coming off of him.

"You really want that?" His voice is low, a little strained, like he's trying to rein himself in. There's a slight tremor in his hands, and his posture is tense, like a coil ready to snap. He’s trying to keep himself in check, and I know he’s holding back everything he wants to say, everything he wants to do. But there's something in his eyes, a flicker of vulnerability, of yearning, that betrays the composure he’s trying so hard to maintain.

I nod slowly, heart pounding in my chest as I search his face, looking for any sign of hesitation, any clue that I’ve crossed a line. But there’s none. Instead, he takes a step toward me, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he’s waiting for me to stop him, to give him some sort of excuse to turn back. But I don’t.

I don’t know what happens next, only that the space between us feels like it’s been stretched so thin that it could snap at any moment. Xaden is so close now, his presence overwhelming, and I can’t breathe, not properly. All I can do is stare at him, feel the pull, the need between us, and wonder if he can feel it too.

“Don’t tempt me,” he mutters under his breath, before stepping into the bathroom, leaving me to wonder if he’ll give in, if he’ll actually let this tension between us break.

Part Two ⇒ Giving Into Temptation

Fourth Wing Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 12th Oct 2024

@xadenswhore @fanficscuziranout @daisydark @Mariahoedt @marrass @

[saintsanddevils]

Moth To A Flame

Ridoc Gamlyn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Ridoc takes you clubbing, while buried feelings surface in the midst of the dance floor.

Warnings: ‼️(MDNI) 18+ explicit content‼️, SMUT, porn with feelings, swearing

Author’s Note: Ridoc would totally be a club rat & this is me supporting that theory. I became a huge fan of Dain after Onyx Storm, so pls forgive the slight Dain bashing.

Word Count: 4K

Posted on AO3

Masterlist

————

Whiskey-colored eyes meet mine as the beat inflates, bouncing against the walls of the club. Red, pink, and gold lights whip around the fog-filled room, casting every silhouette in neon. It’s crowded, humid, and the music is overwhelming.

But with Ridoc’s hand slipping up my arm to my waist after pulling me through the crowd, shivers of awareness rack through me. His touch distracts me from the crushing presence of the bodies around us. He grounds me as his lopsided smile comes inches from my face before he ducks his head to my ear.

“You doing alright?”

His voice did not have to be that low and seductive. He knew what he was doing, and that would normally piss me off, but in this setting, where it felt like we were floating in an ocean of people who lowered their inhibitions and didn’t give a damn about anyone, it felt like it was just the two of us. Ridoc had a way of doing that. Making me forget my anxieties, what people thought of me, how the world was going to hell. He always brought me back to the present. Even with the slightest touch.

And currently, that touch around my waist was pulling me closer and closer to him. My breath hitches as the material of my dress rides up slightly with the grip he has on me. A girl could get drunk on the look he’s giving me. His eyes taking in every inch of me as his grin widens.

“You okay? Or are my good looks too distracting?” He winks, wiggling a brow suggestively.

Yeah, that dumb mouth of his can sure kill a mood.

I roll my eyes, but reach out to grip his bicep as someone from behind pushes me forward. I balance on tiptoes to answer him. “It’s just… loud.”

He cocks his head to the side. “Isn’t that the point?”

I shake my head. “Remind me again why I even let you drag me here?”

Ridoc gives me a devilish grin that sends butterflies through my stomach. I try to quell the feeling because if he knew the effect he had on me, I’d never hear the end of it.

“I’m teaching you how to have fun, let loose, reach your max potential.”

I snort. “My max potential?”

He shrugs. “Oh, you definitely needed to leave the library, or you would’ve ended up just like Dain.”

“What’s wrong with being like Dain?”

He rolls his eyes. “Nothing, besides becoming a downer, a rule follower, and a total tight-ass.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “He’s not that bad.”

Ridoc grips his chest with his free hand in a look of feigned shock. “Have you met him?”

I can’t hide my smile this time.

Another person pushes me; this time, I trip forward in my heels and fall into Ridoc’s broad chest. The muscles flex under my hand, making me even more aware of every single place we touch. His grip on my waist is tighter than before, pulling me to him as people dance around us with not a care in the world.

“We need a drink,” he shouts to be heard over the blaring music.

I shake my head, glancing behind us towards the entrance in the distance. “What about everyone else? Shouldn’t we wait for them?”

Ridoc grips me tighter as he leans in, his voice low in my ear. “And share you with the rest of them? I don’t think so.”

Heat rises to my cheeks as he gives me a heated look that makes his eyes sparkle mischievously in the dim lighting. He pulls me with him as he makes his way through the crowd once more. Pushing and jostling people out of the way as he holds me close to him, ensuring no one bumps into me. I try not to notice how his hands feel large against me, cursing myself for wishing he was touching my skin instead.

We reach the bar, and he quickly orders my favorite liquor, surprising me.

He catches my raised brows and winks. “And you think I don’t pay attention?”

I shake my head, hiding my blush as I turn towards the crowd while we wait. I’m all too aware of the feel of both his hands on my hips as he talks with the bartender.

Months ago, hell, even a year ago, I would never have found myself here. Especially with Ridoc. Sure, the boy charmed me daily with those roguish good looks of his and his witty banter, but as time went on and we continued remaining friends, I never knew if his flirting was real or not. Even now, I can’t tell if he’s just being Ridoc or wanting something more.

I freeze. Did I want something more? I mean… sure, he was attractive and playful, and yeah, he just naturally flirted with anyone with a pulse, but did that mean I wanted all those moments between us to mean something? I couldn’t be into him, right? He’s just being his usual friendly self with me... Right?

Slow-rising panic makes me itch to leave the crowded room and get some much-needed fresh air. His arm around my waist suddenly pulls my back against his hard chest, stopping my heart and any anxiety that was coursing through me just now.

“Stop overthinking,” his breath tickles my neck, sending goosebumps across my heated skin. “I can practically hear your thoughts, they’re that loud. Should I yell to get them to go away?”

I can’t help the nervous laugh that escapes my mouth. Being friends for so long has its benefits if he knows me that well.

A short glass with liquor enters my vision as Ridoc places it in my fingers. “This should help.”

I damn well hope it does. I slam it down my throat, letting the burn push any doubts and fears far from me.

My nerves settle as his arm braces around me, keeping me close. His lips brush my ear, making me shiver. “Better?”

I nod, not trusting my voice as his fingers play with the silk of my dress.

He hums in my ear. “Good. Now let’s dance.”

With the flick of his wrist, he spins me away from him before twirling me back into his waiting arms. A giggle lets loose as I hold on to him, my head spinning from the movement. His smile lights up the dance floor as he pulls me along behind him.

The music escalates, the crowd raising their hands to the ceiling as the beat rises and rises. The air fills with anticipation as we make our way to the middle of the crowd. Once the beat holds and drops, the crowd surges. Yells and cheers of excitement bounce around us as Ridoc turns to face me, his smile contagious as he joins them.

The music beats through my blood as I step closer to Ridoc, afraid I’ll lose him in the swell of bodies around us. His grip doesn’t falter. If anything, the people around us embolden him to pull me against him as he dances. Another laugh escapes me as he folds his arms around me, making me dance with him.

Gods, he’s gorgeous. I can’t help but admire him as he sings along, moving our hips in time to the beat. The liquor definitely helped since now my entire body is buzzing, electrified, and wanting to be set free. I let Ridoc take control and follow his lead.

His hands are all I know as he spreads them around my torso, sliding up my arms, pulling me this way and that. I smile when he slips behind me, binding our bodies together so there’s no room between us. He winds his hands around my middle to hold my ribs and keep me flush against him. I feel every dip and curve of his body as he moves us in time with the intoxicating music.

Time suspends us as we move, and it begins to make me feel bolder. Without a second thought, I find myself grinding into him, throwing my head back.

Ridoc hisses in my ear, before growling, “Don’t tempt me, Y/N.”

I smirk. Playful vengeance surges inside me. Now for a taste of his own medicine.

“What if I want to?” I rock my hips back to the beat, making him moan.

His grip on my hips stops me from doing it again, his head leaning against the back of mine as a tortured sound escapes him.

“Fuck,” he breathes heavily. “If you keep doing that, I won’t be a gentleman anymore. I’ll lose control.”

I turn my head to meet his eyes. His pupils are wide, his breathing erratic as he stares at me with open longing. I can’t help my smile as I lean back into him. His breath hitches when my lips skate across the skin of his jaw.

Maybe I’m not the only one who wants this.

“So lose control.”

His eyes flare as I grind into him once more. Hardness meets my backside before he suddenly flips me around, crushing me to him. His lips meet my neck as I wind my arms around his. Hands roam my back, lowering down, down, down to my backside. I shiver as Ridoc backs me gently against a pillar, ignoring every person dancing around us.

“Fuck, you’re so soft,” he groans into my collarbone as his tongue swipes across my skin.

Gods, that feels so good.

I moan at the sensation. Feeling emboldened by his lips, I lift my leg and wrap it around his waist, pulling him closer. Hardness grinds into my clothed core and we both moan at the same time.

I gasp out a laugh as butterflies and nerves grip me by the throat. Doubts swarm my brain suddenly before I can stop it. Clarification slams into me as I look around at the people dancing in the crowd. No one notices or cares what we’re doing. I feel Ridoc’s dark curls between my fingers and bite my lip. Ridoc is my best friend and— his hands shift my hips to better slot between my legs.

Oh shit, that’s incredible.

His sure, calloused hands find the edge of my dress, sliding along the skin of my thigh. His touch inflames me, burning away any lingering doubt. I give in. I push and pull against him, writhing as he moves his lips upwards, to my jaw. The music rattles my bones as his clothed dick hits me in a place that makes me see stars.

At my sudden gasp, Ridoc pulls back, inches from my lips. He breathes heavily as his wide eyes meet mine. This moment suspends between us, fragile and wary, as we stare. If we continue, there’s no going back. Not for me. I’ve wanted him for too long. Not just his body, but everything that makes Ridoc, Ridoc. Remembering how his eyes filled with such unrestrained longing, I pour every ounce of what I feel for him into my small smile.

His eyes capture the expression and he matches it, warmth surging through me like a drug. He leans forward, kissing my skin once more.

“Please,” he whines against my jaw. “Please tell me you want this. I’ll go mad if you don’t. I… I know we’re friends and I completely understand if it’s the alcohol and you’re just feeling tipsy and only want to have fun, but I’ve been waiting for this for so long.” His forehead crashes to mine gently. “So long, Y/N. You have no idea how much I don’t want to be just friends-“ my breath hitches at the confession, but he continues, his hands shaking slightly as he grips me. “But I completely get it if you don’t want to ruin what we have and-“

“Ridoc,” I stop him. My smile is practically beaming as I grip his neck. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

Like a moth to a flame, Ridoc dips his head and crashes his lips to mine. Sparks set off my nerve endings, making me jolt from the impact of the kiss. I hold him tighter to me, gripping his curls. Gods, they’re so soft.

We’re moving again, this time Ridoc shifts so he’s the one leaning against the pillar while I cling to him.

“I-I’ve thought about this,” he says between kisses. “So much,” he kisses me again. “You have no idea how much.” My teeth bite his lip and he groans. “Gods, Y/N.”

With another bite and pull of his bottom lip between my teeth, he pulls back. “That’s it, we’re leaving.”

He leans down and wraps my other leg around him, carrying me through the crowd. His grip is bruising as he pushes through bodies. Uncaring of who sees now, I continue my path from his swollen lips to his jaw, holding on for dear life as I move my lips down his neck before I stop and suck at his pulse point.

He moans just as cool air hits my heated skin. His hand slides into my hair just as I’m slammed against a wall, his body caging me deliciously. The music is much quieter now that I can see we’re alone in some sort of hallway off the main floor. I don’t care. As long as I can keep kissing him, I don’t give a shit where we are.

I continue my path to his collarbone, nipping at his skin. The hand holding me to him roams my thigh, inching higher and higher till I can feel his fingers toying with the edge of my underwear. I moan as I grind against his clothed dick once more, hoping he gets the message.

“Holy shit,” he gasps as his fingers slide beneath the material, skating across where I want him the most. “You’re so fucking wet for me.”

I moan as his long, calloused fingers toy with me before one of them slides perfectly inside me. We both groan into each other as our mouths crash together messily. His finger is joined by another, long and rough as it curls into me in just the right way, I see stars. He bites my lip, pulling and tugging as I consume him entirely. I ride his fingers as his thumb finds my clit.

“Fuck, yes, right there, Ridoc,” I whine against his lips.

He shudders. “Gods, the way you say my name.”

I smirk, sucking his bottom lip again before whispering. “Want me to scream it?”

“Fuck,” Ridoc shivers beneath me as his grip on my pussy becomes rough, demanding. “I want you to know,” his voice quivers as I writhe against his hand. “I want this to be perfect, Y/N. I want you-“

“I want you,” I grip his collar and pull him back to my mouth. “I don’t care where” I breathe between his lips. “Or how, I just want you. I always have.”

Ridoc moans against my lips. “Oh thank fuck.”

That warmth of something more pulses between us as he kisses me with abandon. His fingers working overtime to bring me higher and higher. I feel myself float as I crest the wave before I finally crash, moaning and writhing against him. Heat courses through me as sparks of light flash beneath my lids. I moan his name, causing him to press his lips roughly against me to suck the word from my mouth.

When I come down, my head swims and my body tingles from the high. I smirk at him as he pulls back, checking me as his free hand curves along my cheek.

“You okay?”

I smile softly up at him, my heart swelling with his care. “Of course I am, I’m with you.”

His smile is contagious as he kisses the tip of my nose. “Want to get out of here?”

“Don’t have to ask me twice.”

——————

We crash into his room, the door swinging against the wall with a loud bang. Hands tear through hair and clothes as we collide. Once his shirt is gone, his hands find the backs of my thighs, heaving me up to wrap my arms and legs around him.

A deep voice suddenly carries from the hall. “Oh, uh, hey you left the door open-“

“Fuck off, Dain,” Ridoc growls.

I catch sight of him over Ridoc’s shoulder as he quickly slams the door closed. Laughter escapes me as I grip on to Ridoc’s bare skin.

He smirks up at me, his cockiness now on full display. “Can’t have him seeing what’s mine.”

“Oh?” I lift a brow, goading him. “And what is yours?”

His hands grip my ass as he confidently walks forward, his legs hitting the edge of the bed as his smirk turns into a wicked grin. “Care to find out?”

I don’t have any warning when he throws me onto the bed. I’m giggling as he slides over my body, bracing himself over me while his lips crash to mine. It’s consuming and burning as he devours me. I let myself dive in, feeling his calloused hands rise to the strap of my dress. With a gentle, torturously slow pull, he brings the silk down, exposing my breast to the moonlight. His hand immediately slides into place, squeezing, tugging.

The second his lips leave mine, forcing a whine from my mouth, he quickly finds my nipple and sucks, long and hard. I jolt, writhing as he continues to tease me. I grip on to his hair, pulling his curls to make him moan against my skin.

His other hand slides the other half of my dress down until I’m full exposed. His hands and lips work in tandem to pinch, squeeze, and suck as he presses me further into the bed.

“Ridoc,” I groan as he leaves a tender love bite on the bottom side of my breast. “Please.”

He looks up at me through his long lashes from his position on my chest. His tongue flicks out, teasing and tasting.

“What do you need, love? Tell me.”

I grip him closer to me before the words escape. “I need you inside me. Now.”

His grin is all sin as he bites my nipple once more. “As you wish.”

His fingers make quick work of my dress, casting it to the floor and leaving me in just my underwear. With soft laughter between us, he maneuvers my underwear off my legs. Wiggling his brows, I smile as he stuffs my panties in his back pocket.

“Stealing my underwear?” I question.

“More like a keepsake,” He winks.

Ridoc grabs my ankles and pulls me to the end of the bed, tugging until my ass is almost to the edge. He pulls my knees up over his shoulders and gives me the most cocky look I’ve ever seen from him.

“I’ve been waiting too long to do this and I’m not wasting a second,” he kneels to the hardwood floor as he unbuttons his pants. I try to catch sight of what he’s doing, but he presses me back down with a firm hand.

“Hold on to something, baby.”

Without warning, he dives into my cunt, licking and sucking like a man starved.

Gods, that mouth.

My eyes roll back at the sudden sensation, his fingers finding and pinching my clit as he rolls his tongue between my folds. I try to grip onto the sheets, but they slip from my palms. Instead, I find his head and grasp his dark curls for dear life as he groans into me.

I’m rising to my peak far too soon as he flicks my clit. I see stars before looking down at him on his knees before me. His eyes are on me, wide and hungry as they drink me in, pleasuring me with his tongue. I see his other hand that’s not on me moving back and forth below my line of sight. I furrow my brows in question until I hear him moan again with another flick of his tongue. I gasp. Is he… touching himself while he eats me out?

The thought of his hand wrapped around his cock while he fucks his tongue into me has me coming hard on his face. I writhe and tremble as shockwaves rock through me. When I finally come down from the high, he’s standing above me, my slick covering his mouth, as his hand rocks back and forth with his— My eyes widen. His dick is huge and hangs from his unbuttoned pants in his hand. I unabashedly stare as he works himself, up and down, over me. It’s incredibly hot.

“You’re not going to fit,” I whisper in shock.

Ridoc tsks as his tongue darts out, licking the slick from his lips. I don’t hold back my moan as he brings his other hand, the one that was inside of me, up and licks his fingers.

“Thanks for the ego boost,” he winks. “But I’ll fit. I’ll make sure of it.”

I would’ve rolled my eyes if he hadn’t suddenly pushed me down on the bed as he throws his pants off in the same movement. He may be all jokes and carefree smiles, but Ridoc knows what he’s doing when it comes to fucking.

He positions himself over my entrance and, without preamble, slams into me, forcing me to cry out. It takes my breath away as he grips my hips, rocking into me. The stretch is everything. I feel entirely full and overwhelmed. It’s addicting.

I rock my hips to force him to move, feeling him bury inside me as he begins to pump. In and out. In and out.

We both groan as my legs wrap around his torso, his knees hitting the bed as he scoops me up to hit me harder, deeper. I hold on to his shoulders as his lips latch onto my neck. This angle, oh gods, this angle has me throwing my head back in rapture as he fucks me.

“Told you I’d fit,” he whispers roughly.

I huff a laugh before bringing his lips to mine. I feel that rising heat once more, deep within me. The more he thrusts, deep and punishing, his deft fingers playing with my clit, I feel myself close to shattering yet again.

“I’m-“ I gasp. “I’m gonna-“

“I’ve got you, baby,” he breathes before hitting me faster. His thrusts frantic now as he chases his own pleasure.

We both come together, screaming as I feel him spill into me. My cunt squeezes him, over and over and over again, before we both fall to the bed in a pile of limbs.

Heaving breaths fill the air as we come down from what was probably the best sex of my entire life.

Ridoc’s dark eyes capture mine as he maneuvers me so I’m laying on his chest. His arms wrap securely around me as he kisses the top of my head.

“Are you alright? Do you need anything?”

My heart soars from his tenderness. I smile into his skin. “This, holding me, sleeping together, that’s what I want.”

His smile is blinding as he turns my face up to his. “Until the sun rises, you’re mine.”

I give him a soft and gentle kiss. “And after that?”

“I’m yours,” his eyes hold a severe weight as he stares down at me, his lips caressing mine. “Now and always.”

[nomie-11]

Xaden Riorson x Reader - Every Scar I Bleed For You

masterlist!

“What in Malek’s name were you thinking!?” She chastised, soaking another pad in alcohol to clean another wound on his back. “Making that deal with the general? We could have figured it out together!”

“Ouch,” He hissed, instinctively arching away from her touch that was only slightly harsher than normal due to her heightened emotions. “I did what we needed to do, I couldn’t drag you and Garrick into it.” 

“That’s the stupidest thing you could have ever said,” she snapped, slamming the blood-soaked pad down on the table next to his bed. Her hands trembled as she reached for another. “Do you honestly think Garrick and I wouldn’t have stood by you? We would have taken part of the punishment! Do you think I wouldn’t have?”

Xaden exhaled sharply, his shoulders stiffening beneath her touch. “It wasn’t about you standing by me. It was about protecting you.” 

“Protecting me?!” Her voice cracked with incredulity. “You threw yourself into the middle of a negotiation with a woman who would slit your throat without blinking, all because you think I can’t handle it? You’re not just my leader, Xaden. You’re…” she paused, fighting back tears. “You’re everything to me. And you think you can keep me safe by breaking yourself into pieces?” 

He flinched, not from the sting of alcohol, but from her words. “Y/n…” His voice was softer now, laced with regret. “You don’t understand. You don’t know what it’s like to—”

“To what? To care so much about someone you’d do anything to protect them?” she interrupted, her hands pressing a clean antiseptic cloth firmly against a particularly deep gash. He winced but didn’t pull away this time. “Because if you think I don’t know, you’re wrong. Dead wrong.” 

He was silent, his head bowed, the tension in his body palpable. 

She took a steadying breath, her tone softening, though the fire in her eyes didn’t dim. “You’re not invincible, Xaden. And you’re not alone. You’re not some lone wolf fighting battles for everyone else while carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. You have me. You will always have me. You know that, don’t you?” 

His hands clenched into fists on his knees, the sinews in his arms taut as he absorbed her words. “It wasn’t just for them,” he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “The kids, the general’s demands—it wasn’t for them. It was for you.” 

Her breath caught, her hands stilling mid-motion. “...oh.” 

“Every choice I made, every risk I took—it was because I couldn’t stand the thought of you being executed next. Of you being in danger. Of losing you.” He turned slightly, to look at her, and his eyes met hers with a burning intensity. “I can’t lose you, Y/n.” 

Her heart thudded painfully in her chest, a torrent of emotions crashing over her. Anger, fear, love—all of it tangled into a knot she couldn’t untangle. “And you think I can stand the thought of losing you?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You think watching you bleed out for me doesn’t tear me apart?” 

He stared at her, his jaw tight, his vulnerability laid bare she’d rarely seen. “You mean more to me than anything,” he murmured. “More than my life, more than this rebellion, more than anything.” 

Her throat constricted, and tears pricked at her eyes. She pressed her forehead against his shoulder, her hands clutching the cloth that had once rested against his wounds. “You idiot,” she choked out. “You reckless, infuriating idiot. I love you. I have always loved you.” 

His breath hitched, and he fully turned toward her, ignoring the searing pain in his back. He lifted a hand to cradle her face, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped down her cheek. “I love you too,” he said, the words low and raw and filled with every emotion he’d been holding back since the execution of his father. “I have for so long, I don’t even know how to stop.” 

She leaned into his touch, her tears feeling freely now, her walls crumbling under the weight of his words. “Then stop trying to protect me by shutting me out,” She pleaded, her voice breaking. “We fight together, Xaden. Always.” 

He nodded, resting his forehead against hers, his breath mingling with hers. “Always,” he echoed. “No more shutting you out. No more trying to do it alone.” 

For a long moment, they stayed like that, the world around them fading away. It was just them, their breaths steadying in unison, their love a fragile yet unbreakable thing that tied them together. 

Finally, she pulled back, a watery smile tugging at her lips. “Good. Because Garrick and I aren’t going anywhere. And next time you decide to sacrifice yourself, I’ll be right there to stop you. Got it?” 

He chuckled softly, his own smile breaking through the pain etched on his face. “Got it.: 

“Good,” She said again, pressing a kiss to his forehead before returning to her work. “Now sit still while I finish cleaning these wounds. You’re not dying on my watch, Riorson.” 

And she pressed another clean cloth to a wound on his back, and he hissed, and they stood there in silence, and for now, that was enough. 

-------

If you enjoyed this one shot, please check out my other series!

Taglist: @awkardnerd , @hannraumari , @minjix , @glaciuswduo , @wolfbc97 , @heeseungthel0ml

[scorpioriesling]

Hii could I request some more ridoc smut? Literally anything I'm just feral for our silly lil man

Denial Is A River

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

Pairing(s): Ridoc x reader

Warning(s): smut, 18+, mdni

Summary: You'd think after so long, your ex wouldn't still be on your mind. After all, he never took anything seriously -- why should you? It would seem like going out for a night of fun with your best friend is exactly what you needed.

SR’s Note: Um... girly, aren't we all feral for this man, HAHA. I saw this request, sat my ass down, and immediately started writing. <3 Any excuse for Ridoc smut is a good excuse, right?

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @velarisdusk (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

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

"Great," you mutter, rolling your eyes and looking away. Sloane turns, searching over her shoulder for whatever could've caused you such distress. Not finding the source, she turns back to you wearing a confused expression on her face.

"What-"

"Not what; who." You cut her off. She goes to turn again, but you grasp her bicep.

"Don't -- he was just looking over here." You shudder, bringing the plastic cup to your lips. When you lower it, draining the sweet mixture, Sloane is looking to you with a leveled stare.

"I don't even need to see who just got here. I think I already know." You swallow, the sweet drink tingling as it runs down your throat. She raises an eyebrow. "Ridoc?"

You shake your head. "Don't. Even say his name."

Now it's your best friend's turn to roll her eyes.

"Y/N, it's been six months. Don't tell me you're still letting him effect you-"

"He. Affects. Nothing." You bite out, lifting your cup again before remembering it was empty. Sloane sighs.

"Y/N... if you still have feelings for him, maybe you should-"

"Another drink?" You switch the subject, the faux-cheerful smile plastered on your face. You've been friends with Sloane long enough now that she doesn't take the bait; but, she's also learned when to "drop it" with you.

"I'm dry," she agrees, peering toward the crowded bar. "Let's migrate?"

You nod in agreement, following your blonde friend to the bar. After a while of pushing through people, trying to secure any inch of bar space; your hands finally meet the cool metal of the countertop.

"What'll ya have?" The cute, strawberry-blonde bartender asks. Sloane immediately straightens; and you smirk.

"Hmm... can you make me something with Fireball?" You ask, and he raises his eyebrows.

"I'm sure I can; and what for you?" His gaze locks on Sloane, and she coughs.

"Um... I, uh..." You giggle at your friend. She's never so... speechless.

"She'll have whatever your favorite is." You speak up, and he chuckles. Sloane glares daggers into the side of your head, but you only turn to her with a wink.

"I'd be happy to make it; been needin' another one myself tonight," he smiles softly to your friend before turning to start working on the drinks. Sloane folds her arms next to you, and you shrug.

"What? I'm just helping you out," you reason with her. She smirks, only looking past your shoulder for a second before pretending to be busy picking at her clothes.

"Fireball, huh? I never knew you to order something so... spicy."

You lock your jaw, whirling around to find Ridoc standing beside you. He smirks down at you, his tall frame shielding many of the club's overhead lazer lights as you look up at him.

"Pfft," you tut, crossing your arms as you raise an eyebrow. "You wouldn't know anything about... spice."

He chuckles, running a hand through his luscious, shoulder-length black locks. Your eyes immediately catch on the black hair tie around his wrist; a new kind of flame igniting inside of you.

"Ahh, Y/N." He shakes his head slowly, before reaching over and tapping Sloane on her opposite shoulder. "I'm just surprised this one still tolerates your attitude."

Sloane turns, finding no one before turning over the other shoulder to face the two of you. She only offers him an eyeroll.

"Ridoc. Hi to you too."

He chuckles, staring past you to your best friend. You scoff, smacking his shoulder.

"Staring problem?"

He looks at you again, raising his hands in surrender.

"Hey! I'm just trying to keep this little interaction here friendly."

You shake your head, reaching out to snap the thin rubber band against his wrist.

"Oh, yeah. I can see you've been keeping things very friendly." You glare, and he rolls his eyes. Sloane taps your shoulder, motioning to the drinks that had been set down on the counter before you. You turn to reach for yours, eyeing the bartender as he toasts Sloane.

Behind you, the unmistakable voices of Ridoc's friends ring out, and you internally cringe. You'd been close to his posse before the two of you broke up, and now... things were just, awkward.

Bringing your own glass to your lips, you shiver as he leans in behind you, his warm breath sending a chill down your spine.

"Bet you won't take it all without choking," he chuckles, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "At least, once." He steps back, and you glare at him once more before tipping your glass all the way back, ignoring the searing burn of the whiskey as you gulp it down. He only stares with intrigue as you turn your back to him, slamming the glass down on the bar.

The sound pulls the bartender out of his trance, his gaze toward Sloane snapping to the empty glass.

"Anything else for ya? Maybe for your boyfriend?"

Sloane snorts, covering it up with a cough before turning to you and shaking her head. You stare at the bartender, scoffing.

"Oh yeah. Give him something, reeeeal dry." You turn, throwing one more glance over your shoulder.

"And he's not. My boyfriend."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

You'd spent almost two more hours, mingling and visiting the bar with Sloane before you'd realized how intoxicated you'd become. After three more drinks, you'd been feeling quite weightless -- almost forgetting your ex that somehow, always appeared in the corner of your vision.

Almost.

"I think I'm gonna see when Brett gets off tonight," Sloane slurs, her hands bracing against your forearms as the two of you stand in the middle of the dancefloor.

You chuckle. "Oh? So you're on a first-name basis, now?" You wiggleyour eyebrows at her. She laughs, nudging you with her elbow before leaning close so you can hear over the thumping bass.

"Hopefully we'll be past the first-name basis after tonight," she giggles, and your jaw drops. She grasps your shoulders, shouting right into your ear.

"And you might be too, if you do something about that second year staring at you!" She winks, pushing off of you to retreat to the bar. You look around confused, searching for whoever she was talking about.

You're on your third look-around when a warm hand slides along your waist, and you turn. The lights in the room blur, but the male standing beside you is in clear view.

Clearly... beautiful, that is.

"Hey," he shouts, flashing a bright smile. Your eyebrows raise, the alcohol in your system tampering any shyness you might have had.

"Hey," you say back, and he leans in closer. The black, short sleeve fits him to a tee -- every muscle defined along his tattooed arms. His scent of wood and salt hits you, and you breathe it in.

Delicious.

"I'm Matt," he says, his eyes gazing right down into yours. You smile up at him.

"I'm Y/N," you say, and he takes your hand in his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. You're not sure if it's the alcohol or lack of nerves, but a faint blush spreads across your cheeks.

"Y/N," he repeats looking to you again. "First year?"

You nod, and he grins proudly.

"I'm in my second," he says. Your brows raise an inch; but, you're not intimidated. After all, you'd been with a second year before.

The sinking feeling in your stomach appears as Matt keeps talking. Would he know Ridoc? Gods, he probably did. You frown. Ugh, why did he always have to ruin everything?

Matt pauses, chuckling as he stares at you again.

"You alright?"

You shake your head, clearing your thoughts. Why were you even thinking about him right now?

"I'm... fine," you say, sucking in a breath as you feel both of Matt's hands softly holding your hips. He chuckles, his face mere inches from yours. Your head spins, the lights, the Charli XCX song playing in the back, this delectable man's lips about to touch yours-

"Hey man, what the fuck?"

Your eyes widen as Matt is quite literally ripped off you, the collar of his shirt rumpled in Ridoc's grip. He raises his hands in surrender.

"Look, man, I'm sorry! I didn't know-"

"Of course you fucking didn't," Ridoc growls, his usually playful tone absent. You stare in shock -- Ridoc was never this serious. In fact, that's what drove the two of you to break up in the first place.

"She's. Unavailable." He grinds out, and Matt huffs a laugh.

"Aight! Sorry, bro, she wasn't acting like it," Ridoc lowers him, releasing the hold on his shirt before glaring at him once more.

"I'd suggest you get goin', bro." '

That's all it takes before Matt is scurrying off into the sea of people. Ridoc turns, the anger still written all over his face. His brows only sinch together more when he takes in the anger on yours.

"What the fuck was that?" You shout, every ounce of pent up frustration bubbling over the surface. He rolls his eyes, stepping closer to you.

"That guy's a tool, Y/N," he says, his words running together a bit. Guess he needed to down a few to get though this night, too.

"You wouldn't know that though, because-"

"Because, what?" You throw your arms up in fury. "Because I'm 'only a first year'? Who are you to tell me who I can and can't-"

His hands reach out, grapping onto your forearms. He pulls you to his chest, bending at the waist to speak directly in front of your face.

"He shouldn't get to touch you." He says lowly, his eyes staring into yours. Your cheeks heat, the feeling of his hands on you mixed with the sweet musk of his cologne; it felt like how it used to.

"Nobody should."

You stare up at him with confusion, your only response a defensive one you'd learned to use so well around him.

"You're touching me right now," you sneer. "Doesn't look like you have any problem with that."

He chews on his bottom lip, his dark brows hooding his desired stare as he continues to draw you closer.

"You're right. I don't have a problem with it."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

“Oh FUCK yes… yes,”

It hadn’t taken much convincing to get you to leave the club with him. In fact, you practically jumped at the chance to leave — but, you let Ridoc think he “dragged” you out of there.

Truth be told, you were a bit giddy to feel his comforter beneath your back again.

“Mhm, you like that?” He taunts, pumping his fingers in and out.

You huff a laugh, another sarcastic response forming in your mind.

"I bet Matt could've done better." You toss him a wicked grin, and his brows furrow. He suddenly yanks his fingers out, immediately pulling you off the bed, yanking your dress up over your head before shoving you onto the floor.

Your eyes widen as your knees hit the hardwood, mouth practically salivating as he undoes his jeans quickly, pulling his thick cock out of his boxers. He slides his hand up and down it a few times, the other hand tangling in your hair as he yanks you closer.

"Always such a foul mouth, you've got," he tuts, and you drop your jaw. He slaps the head of his cock against your awaiting tongue twice, before shoving himself down your throat.

"This will teach you to be nicer," he muses. You gag, his thick length filling your throat even as he pulls out and pushes it right back in. He keeps assaulting your throat, fucking your mouth like you're his own personal plaything.

Not that you'd oblige.

"Good girl... mmm," he groans, thrusting in a few more times before pulling your mouth flesh with his pelvis.

“Want you to fuckin’ gag on my dick, baby,” You cough, your throat raw as the faint black hairs near his pubic bone tickle your nose.

He yanks your mouth off of him, grabbing your arms and hauling you to your feet once more. The relief is only momentary before his rough hands push you flush against his bed, bent at the waist over the edge of his bed.

Grabbing both of your wrists, he grips both of your hands behind your back, using one of his hands to slide his wet and ready cock against your sopping cunt. He leans down, kissing just below your ear before uttering a single sentence.

"No man. Will ever. Get to do this with you."

You suck in a breath, the tip of his dick pushing into your cunt.

"Besides me."

He wastes no time, shoving his entire length in, drawing a sharp cry from you.

Sliding out, and thrusting back in -- he watches in a trance as your ass bounces against his pelvis with each slam of his hips against yours. His grip on your wrists loosen, one hand opting to tangle in your hair once more.

"You're. Mine." He pants, drawing you up to meet his chest, flush with your back as he continues pounding mercilessly into you. "You belong to no one else."

His words, the air in the room, the feel of him -- it's all too much. The tidal wave building inside you threatens to wash over the edge, and your breath comes out in short gasps.

"Oh... f-fuck, Ridoc," the new angle plunges his length deeper into you, his tip rubbing the most sensitive spot inside of you. His other arm wraps around your waist as he speaks again.

"Say it,"

You moan as his balls slap against your clit, the wave inside almost too much to contain.

"I..."

"Tell me who's pussy this is." He gasps, his thrusts growing sloppy. You let out a cry of pleasure, your eyes squeezing shut as his grip tightens in your hair.

"Y-yours," you gasp. "Oh fuck, Ridoc it's all yours."

The title wave breaks free, your walls clenching around his huge dick as he gives you a few more thrusts. He cums not too long after, loosing himself in the way you feel wrapped around him again. He groans, low and deep as he releases his seed deep in your pussy -- another reminder that you're his, and only his.

You breathe deep, lying against his bed again when he finally releases you. He slips out of you, making quick work of cleaning himself off. You steady your breathing, making to stand and grab your dress from the floor.

Ridoc slides his boxers back on, pulling back the blankets on his bed and instead guiding you to lie down underneath them.

"Ridoc, I-"

He shushes you, adjusting the pillow beneath your head before sliding in behind you. Your heart swells as he presses a kiss to your cheek, pulling you flush against him as his arms wrap around you. You snuggle in, the warmth comforting as you work to wrangle your racing thoughts.

"We can talk tomorrow morning."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

[bludhavents]

As Long as You Know Me

Pairing: Liam Mairi x Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Summary: As a child of the rebellion, your birthday failing on Reunification Day stirs up a swarm of emotion. When your friends try to celebrate, Liam comes to your rescue... in his boxers.

Warnings: Grief, parent loss, fem!reader. Little angsty, but lots of fluff included. No use of Y/N.

A/N: Long time no see :) You can send in any requests, sign up to join my tag list, and read my previous works all through my bio, tehe! I have lots more Fourth Wing content on the way. I hope you enjoy, comment for a part 2!

July 1st was an open wound. As a child of the rebellion, it marks the day that I was forced to watch my parents be executed for fighting for a better life. July 1st is the day that Lillian Sorrengail ruined my life.

It’s the day she ironically declared “Reunification Day”, as if she hadn’t torn apart families and orphaned so many children.

July 1st was also the day that I was born. Every year since I turned eleven, my birthday has been tainted by the cruelty of the General and her misguided sense of justice.

This year, my birthday starts with her drunk daughter knocking on my door.

“Take it!” Violet urges, trying to pass me a shot of liquor. I make no move to reach for it. 

Her, Rhiannon, Ridoc, and Sawyer are all standing at my door with cheery grins across their faces and dazed looks in their eyes. They don’t have nightmares of watching their parents die. On the worst day of my life, they were probably out celebrating with their families, smiling at the rebels’ defeat. I spent that night alone. I spent it with a cursed mark running up my skin forever. 

“What’s going on?” I stifle a yawn behind my hand, wrapping my blanket tighter around my shoulders as I face them. 

“You’re twenty-one!” Rhiannon’s words slur as she claps me on the shoulder. “Drink up, birthday girl!”

“What time is it?” I blink at them. Ridoc’s smile falls into a line of annoyance quickly. 

“You’re really ruining this, you know?” He chastises. I raise my eyebrows and look across the rest of the faces in front of me, eight eyes watching me with weaning anticipation. Sawyer sways on his feet and I notice the moonlight coming through the hallway window behind him. 

“What time is it?” I ask again, staring at Sorrengail this time. She’s chewing her bottom lip. The shot in her hand is about to pour over the edges.

“It’s midnight,” Rhiannon explains as if it’s obvious. 

“For fuck’s sake,” I complain, running a hand down my face. I move to shut the door, but Ridoc protests, pushing it open and letting himself into my room. The rest follow him without question. My stomach rolls at the smell of booze they bring into the room.

“It smells nice in here,” he compliments, sitting on my bed. I disagree.

“What are you guys doing?” I sigh in frustration. “It’s late. You woke me up.”

There’s a part of me that feels guilty for my lack of enthusiasm at their excitement, but the larger--tired-- part of me is overwhelmingly disappointed by their lack of thoughtfulness. It doesn’t take a lot of tact to refrain from initiating a celebration on the day of someone’s traumatic event. Yet somehow, they still managed to surprise me in the worst way.

Have none of them thought that maybe I wouldn’t want to celebrate my birthday? Have they possibly considered that I didn’t tell them about it for a reason? The mark that swirls up my arm was no secret. They know what today means to me. 

“We’re celebrating. It’s your birthday. Quit whining,” he complains. “What do you want to do? We could still go into town.”

“I want to go to bed.” I lean against my open door frame and stare at my friends who are now scattered across my room. Violet places the shot on my desk before dropping her body on to my chair. Rhiannon has a handle of liquor in her hands and is drinking from the bottle. I cringe. 

“But it’s your birthday,” she whines. 

“Happy birthday,” Sawyer coos, pulling me into a hug. I groan and gently push him back. 

“I appreciate you all, but it’s really late, and I’m tired, and I don’t celebrate my birthday, so I think you guys should take this party elsewhere,” I explain, hoping that my reasoning can make itself known without me having to spell it out. My rebellion relic tingles on my skin. Rhiannon whines loudly and shrieks as she almost drops her bottle of liquor. I cross my eyebrows. 

A loud slam of a door echos down the hallway and I hold my breath, hoping that nobody else has come to join this dreadful birthday party.

“Are you okay?” Liam is in my room immediately, and I feel my shoulders relax slightly. The first thing he does is place a hand on my shoulder, scanning my face for injury and finding none to warrant the pained expression on my face. His eyes starts searching the room wildly before he seems to put the pieces of the scene together himself. “Oh. I heard a scream.”

“Sorry.” Rhiannon frowns. Violet stifles a giggle. My eyes catch the liquid dripping out of the corner of her mouth before she wipes it away with her sleeve.

“Now you can join the party,” Ridoc says from my bed. Liam says nothing.

I step toward him, letting his strong arm loop around my waist and bring me into his side. I let out a deep breath and he pulls me in tighter, the both of us exchanging a thousand words without speaking. 

“What’re you wearing?” Violet asks him, wobbling as she stands from my chair. She stumbles over the edge of my rug as she approaches him, and Sawyer is quick to catch her before she hits the ground. I turn my face into Liam’s side, unable to watch this shit show any longer. He straightens beside me, bringing a hand to cradle the back of my head.

“Are any of you guys sober?” Liam asks. I feel his voice rumbling in his chest as he does. 

“Nope!” Ridoc pops the p and pulls a flask out of his pocket. He tosses it to Liam, who watches it fall to the ground two feet in front of him. “Oops.”

Sawyer has his arm around Violet’s waist, steadying her as she clings onto his shirt for balance. Rhiannon is sprawled on my floor, shoes kicked off, with the bottle to her lips again. Ridoc is now under my covers with his head on my pillow. I grumble.

“What’s going on here?” A new person steps into the drunken circus that has invaded my room and I throw my head back in frustration, not having asked for any of this.

I miss my life ten minutes ago, when I was fast asleep in bed.

“Couldn’t tell you.” I look across Liam and meet Xaden’s eyes. The two of them whisper something back and forth before Xaden nods once and takes a further step into my room. His first stop is the flask on the floor, then the bottle in Rhiannon’s hand, then the now-empty shot glass on my desk. 

“Back to your own rooms, cadets. Be sober by morning, we will be having a discussion about this with Aetos.” He walks toward the door, holding it open with his foot as Sawyer drags Violet out of the room. Liam and I step out of the way, breaking our embrace to give them room to move. I notice Violet’s eyes lingering on the wingleader, but he doesn’t so much as look her way as she’s pulled to her room. Rhiannon leaves next, smiling cluelessly as she carries her shoes in her hands.

“Happy birthday,” she says, throwing her arms around my neck in a hug. Her boots slam against my back and I wince. She leans all of her weight on me and nearly drags me down as she hangs from my neck. I unwrap her from me and she walks out. 

“Love you.” Ridoc slings an arm around my shoulders and tries to guide me out of the room with him. 

“Cadet Gamlyn.” He lets go at the sound of Xaden’s voice. The older boy shuts the door as soon as everyone is out, leaving only myself, Liam, and him. We all breathe out. “What was that all about?”

“They found out it was my birthday. I don’t know if they’ve even put together that it’s the same day,” I answer, not needing to expand on what ‘same day' means to this crowd. Both of the men in front of me were there to watch their loved ones die alongside mine. They understand the storm of grief stirring in my stomach. I sit on the edge of my bed, huffing at the disarray of my comforter.

“You were with them?” Xaden accuses Liam, who moves to sit next to me. 

“No. I came in when I heard someone scream. I thought someone had come in and tried to hurt her or something.” He yawns, and I remember that it’s midnight. He must have been asleep just before he came in. His light hair is tousled on top of his head, and I notice for the first time that he wears only a pair of loose, black boxers. I avert my stare and bite my lip as my face heats at the realization of his muscled legs pressed up against the thin fabric of my nightdress. I swallow hard.

Xaden, on the other hand, is still wearing his training gear. I’m not surprised. I can’t imagine that he’ll be attempting to sleep tonight. Being the son of Fen Riorson makes today a little more complicated. 

He sits in my desk chair and puts his head in his hands, sighing deeply. I lean my head to the side and lay it on Liam’s bare shoulder. His head turns and he presses a soft kiss to my hair, leaving his face to rest there. 

The three of us sit there silently grieving with one another.

I let my mind wander to the birthdays I celebrated before the dreadful day I turned eleven. I remember my father making heart-shaped waffles for breakfast every year and letting me drown them in whipped cream and chocolate syrup. I remember my mother waking me up by climbing into bed with me and kissing my forehead. I remember my last happy birthday with them, when we were all crying from laughter because the bakery spelled almost every word on the cake wrong. When we were all alive.

I think of my mother’s laughter, her loud snorts that would send us all further into a fit of giggles. I think of how my father would always put a hand on his gut when he was really tickled by a joke. I’ll never forget either of their joy, throughout everything. 

I’ll never forget that Lillian Sorrengail robbed me of experiencing that ever again. I’ll never forget that she robbed my future children of their grandparents. I’ll never forget that she had the audacity to grieve for her son and her husband when they died years later, as if she hadn’t inflicted that pain onto so many other families.

My mind flits back to the present when Liam begins rubbing his hand up and down my bicep. I inhale deeply through my nose, trying to ground myself back in reality. The boy beside me smells like citrus and rain, and I breathe it in again. His touch is soft and delicate, such a loving motion that sweeps my heart into a flurry. I sigh into him.

My eyes wander my room, landing on the confiscated liquor Xaden set on my desktop. His large body is still in my tiny chair, but now he’s slumped forward, eyes closed, and breathing deeply. My lips turn upward.

I sit up straight, facing Liam. He looks back at me, his eyes glossy. I feel my heart crack in my chest at the sight, but shove the pain down where I store the rest of today’s feelings. My finger rests on my lips to warn him to stay quiet and he nods, licking his lips. I pull my eyes away from the action and then point to where Xaden is asleep in my chair. A small grin rises on Liam’s mouth and I raise my palm to my mouth, stifling a laugh.

In all the years that I’ve known Xaden Riorson, I’ve never seen him without the crease between his eyebrows and the tension tightening his jaw. Looking at him now, he’s perfectly peaceful. His breaths are even and deep in the too-small chair. His skin is free from any stress lines. His lips are slightly parted and his hair is hanging loosely. Gentle snores fall from his mouth.

I draw my eyes back to Liam to see him sitting back on his hands and staring at the rare sight, too. In this position, every muscle in his upper body is perfectly displayed. His forearms, biceps, shoulders, chest, abs. I drag my eyes up his body and back to his pretty face.

“Do you want to sleep in here, too?” I offer to him in a whisper. We both know that, despite my wandering eyes, I’m offering because of the pain we are both going to be in once we’re alone. It’s easier to ride the grief out together. He nods once and adjusts himself on my bed.

Now, he’s sitting up straight against my headboard, legs extended out. He holds my gaze and shoots me a boyish grin as he kicks his feet into my lap. The look on his face is enough to seize my thoughts for a moment, and I have to blink to regain my senses.

With a roll of my eyes, I lift his legs off of me. I slide my throw blanket off of my shoulders and move across the room, draping it gently over Xaden’s body. I move back to the bed quietly, where I grab the top corners of my comforter and pull them up with me as I scoot to where Liam is perched at the head of the mattress. We sit shoulder-to-shoulder. I gather the material of the comforter and pull it over our laps. 

“Should we move him?” His voice is loud enough for me to hear, but low enough that the sleeping boy couldn’t hear it from across the square room. 

“I don’t think so.” I match his quiet tone. “He needs the sleep. If we wake him up he’s just going to leave. I think it’s best for him to be with us.”

“You’re very thoughtful,” he praises, and my stomach flutters. Liam Mairi has always been a kind boy. For him to be kind under the covers with me in his boxers was a whole new experience, though, and it was one I hoped to find myself in again as soon as possible.

His toned stomach is expanding and deflating so hypnotically that I find my lips parting as I watch helplessly. My eyes drift to the trail of hair that begins below his navel and continues into the waistband of his bottoms.

“What’re you thinking about?”

My face heats as I tear my eyes away from his body and meet his burning gaze, and I shrug. 

“I’m a little rubbed the wrong way by my impromptu birthday party,” I supplement instead of revealing my actual thoughts. He lifts his arm from next to mine and drapes it around my shoulders, bringing me closer to him until my head is resting on his chest again. I adjust my legs on the bed and let myself get comfortable against his solid wall of muscle.

“I’m sorry. I get it. Do you remember that guy who tried to kill me during our first training fight?” I nod against his chest, tracing lazy circles along his skin with the tip of my index finger. “Well I kept an eye on him after that. He fought four other people, and only tried to kill the ones with rebellion relics.”

“Oh, Liam.” I turn my head to look at him and find his soft blue eyes looking toward Xaden’s sleeping form. “I’m so sorry. I wish things were different.”

“Me too. It’s just hard whenever we have to deal with things like that and our friends don’t. They probably don’t even realize what today means for us, because they’ve been celebrating it for so long without having to think about what we went through on the other side.” He shrugs his arm off my shoulder and moves it up and down the back of my night dress, making me shiver. It feels like the heat of his touch is burning right through the fabric and into my skin. I have to remind myself to breathe.

We sit like that in silence for a few minutes until he speaks again. “Can I turn the light off?”

I nod, holding back a groan when he moves his body away from mine and leaves me in my bed that suddenly feels too big without him. His footsteps are quiet as he moves across the room and flicks the switch. I lift the blanket up for him and he laughs softly, sliding in and laying his head on my pillow. He extends his arm for me to lay on, and I do, resting my head where his shoulder and bicep meet. 

“Thank you for staying.” I’m staring at him under the faint moonlight that’s coming through the window. The shadow of his full lips curves upward as a grin stretches across his face charmingly. My chest flutters. His blue eyes flick to mine. 

“Thank you for inviting me. I didn’t think my first night spent with you would include my brother sleeping in your chair, but I guess it’s still pretty nice,” he teases with a wink. It takes all my strength to contain the bark of laughter that threatens to escape at his sudden boldness. A breathy chuckle leaves me instead, fanning over his freckled skin. 

“Are you saying you’ve thought about spending the night with me, Liam?” I fiend upset, pushing myself up with the hand on his chest so that my face is hovering over his. “I’m shocked.”

“Oh please.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, moving his hand along my head until it reaches the back of my neck and stays there. My eyes flick down to his strong arm flexed beneath me before I can stop myself, and his smile widens impossibly. “You know every guy in this wing has thought about spending a night here with you.”

“What?” I furrow my brows. “Are there other guys in this wing? Could’ve fooled me.”

His laugh rumbles through his chest and into my heart where it twists itself into nervous ropes.

Liam and I have had an undeniable chemistry for as long as I can remember, but I’ve always been too afraid to act on it. His friendship meant too much to me, and I didn’t want to risk pursuing something that might cost me that. Now though, with his hand on my neck and his bare skin on my sheets, I find myself willing to risk anything to have this. I pull my eyes away from his lips only to find him staring at mine. 

“The boys of Fourth Wing will be very sad to know that their fantasy girl doesn’t even know they exist.” He wets his lips with his tongue and meets my eyes with a mischievous smirk. “I don’t feel bad for them, though. As long as you know me that’s all that matters.”

The hand on the back of my neck draws me closer, slowly, giving me time to protest. Instead, I meet his eyes and nod once. The smirk that graces his lips is enough to send me into overdrive. Liam parts his lips beneath me and I pause, only centimeters away, inhaling his exhales. His large nose turns as he moves to close the distance between us. My eyes flutter shut.

A loud crash comes from across the room to interrupt our moment, and Liam wraps both of his arms around me immediately, pinning me to the curve of his neck and protecting my head with his free arm.

There’s a passing moment of silence before a pained groan follows, and then Liam is laughing loudly under me. He takes his hands off of me and throws his head back against the pillow in an uncontrollable fit of giggles. 

“Shut up,” Xaden moans into the darkness.

I swing my legs off of the mattress and hurry to the lightswitch, but trip and fall halfway there. Xaden and I both groan in unison, and Liam’s laughter only grows louder and more humored.

The loud sound came from Xaden crashing to the ground along with my now-broken chair.

A rough hand shoves my shoulder and I roll off of him, cursing under my breath. Landing on top of him was far more painful than I would have expected. I lay on the floor beside him and laugh shortly.

“Did you sleep well?” I ask over the chuckles in the background. Xaden grunts in response. “How did my chair break?”

“Stop asking me questions,” he grumbles. “I’ll get you a new chair for your birthday.”

I laugh again at that. 

He sits up on the floor and runs his hand through his messy hair. Liam manages to navigate his way to the lightswitch without tripping over one of us, and as soon as the bulb flicks on, all three of us are closing our eyes and mumbling our protests. 

“Neither of you are wearing enough clothes for me,” the older boy complains as he adjusts to the light, throwing the blanket I left on his sleeping shoulders at me. His attention turns to Liam, narrowing his eyes as he looks up at him. “What’re you still doing here anyway?”

“I wasn’t gonna leave her alone in here with you snoring like that. Someone had to cover her ears so that she could sleep,” he deflects, moving to sit on the edge of my bed. Xaden rolls his eyes so hard that I wonder if it hurts. 

“I don’t even remember falling asleep.” He rubs the back of his neck with his hand and yawns. I’ve never seen him so vulnerable. “Thanks for letting me sleep.”

“You’re always welcome to stay here. Once I get a new chair, I mean,” I tease him. 

[partoffantasy]

Massage - Liam Mairi

⸻ image credits to mybookishdoodles ⸻

summary: after days of grueling extra training under Xaden’s command, Liam is sore and aching all over. When he complains about his back pain, reader takes matters into her own hands.

pairing: liam mairi x fem!reader warnings: smut, MDNI, unprotected p in v, ass play word count: 2k

⸻⸻⸻✦ ♡ ✦⸻⸻⸻

Liam groans as he pushes the door to his room open, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to ease the tightness in his muscles. Every inch of him aches, the deep, unrelenting burn of hours of extra training. Xaden has been ruthless lately, pushing him past his limits, and Liam is starting to feel every single second of it.

Y/N follows him inside, arms crossed as she watches him move stiffly, his usual fluid grace replaced by something more rigid. “You look like you just survived a death match,” she teases, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. Liam throws her a look over his shoulder. “I feel like I did.” He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck before collapsing onto the edge of his bed with another groan. “I swear, Xaden is trying to kill me.”

Y/N chuckles, stepping closer. “You did say you wanted to be stronger.” “Yeah, but I didn’t mean this strong,” he grumbles, rotating his shoulder with a wince. She watches him for a moment, taking in the way his muscles flex beneath his pale skin, how his blonde hair is still damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead. He’s an absolute mess, but gods, he’s a beautiful mess.

With a shake of her head, she moves behind him, resting her hands on his shoulders. “Alright, sit up straight.” Liam tilts his head back slightly, looking at her with curiosity. “Why?” “Because I’m going to fix you,” she says simply, already pressing her thumbs into the hard knots at the base of his neck. A deep groan rumbles from his chest, his head falling forward almost instantly. “Fuck, Y/N—” She chuckles, her hands grabbing the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head. Her fingers caress his muscles on his arms, making their way back up to his neck. He shivers and goosebumps cover his arms where her fingers were just a second ago. She kisses his shoulder shortly, before standing up straight behind him.

She smiles, kneading deeper, her fingers working with slow, deliberate pressure. The tension in his muscles is ridiculous, so tight it almost feels like stone beneath her fingertips. “You’re so tight,” she murmurs, moving her thumbs along the rigid line of his spine. Liam exhales a long breath, his body melting under her touch. “You have no idea how good that feels.”

Y/N chuckles, shifting her hands lower, thumbs gliding over the thick ridges of muscle along his upper back. He is so beautiful and all hers. Sometimes she thinks she is dreaming, having found a person so handsome and at the same time with a character of pure gold. She takes her time, pressing deep, rolling out the stiffness with steady, purposeful strokes. She can feel the way his body responds, the way he shudders slightly every time she works out a particularly tense spot. He lets out another low, satisfied groan, his shoulders slumping. “Fuck, how are you so good at this?”

“I have very skilled hands,” she says, smirking as she drags her nails lightly down his back before applying more pressure. Liam shivers. “Yeah, you do.” His voice is rough, thick with pleasure. Y/N bites her lip, warmth curling in her stomach. This wasn’t supposed to be sensual—but with the way Liam is moaning, the way his muscles flex and relax under her hands, it’s impossible to ignore the effect it’s having on both of them.

She leans in, her breath brushing his ear as she murmurs, “Lie down.” Liam shifts slightly, turning his head to glance at her with hooded eyes. “Getting serious now?” She smirks. “You want me to fix your back or not?” He huffs a laugh but obeys, lying flat on his stomach, his arms folded under his head. Y/N straddles his hips, sitting right on top of his backside as she places her hands on either side of his spine. She starts slow, kneading deep, working her way down, letting her fingers dig into every inch of tense muscle.

Liam groans again, muffled against the pillow. “Gods, I love you.” She grins. “That good?” His only response is another drawn-out groan, his body sinking even deeper into the bed. She lets her hands drift lower, pressing into his lower back, thumbs sweeping in slow circles. The heat of his skin sears into her palms, and she can feel how much he’s enjoying this. His breathing is slower now, deeper, his body completely pliant beneath her touch. 

Liam shifts beneath her, adjusting his position slightly, and the movement makes Y/N stifle a moan. The friction, the solid warmth of his body beneath her, sends an unexpected jolt of heat through her core. Unable to resist, she grinds her hips down against the firm swell of his backside, a quiet moan slipping past her lips before she can stop it.

Liam smirks beneath her, his hands unwrapping from under his head to grip her waist, his fingers digging in as he pulls her down harder. “Seems like you’re enjoying yourself too,” he murmurs, voice thick with amusement—and something darker, something hotter. “Fuck, Liam,” she gasps, her body aching with need as his strong hands guide her movements, urging her to grind against him.

A quiet groan rumbles from his chest, and before she can think, he shifts, rolling onto his back, his hands never leaving her. Y/N barely has time to adjust before she finds herself straddling his waist, her core pressed directly against the hardening length beneath his training shorts. The heat of him sears through the fabric, sending another rush of arousal between her thighs. She bites her lip, closing her eyes as she rocks against him, slow and deliberate. Liam’s hands slide back to her hips, guiding her, holding her steady as she moves. When she opens her eyes again, she finds his gaze locked onto hers—intense, hungry.

He reaches up, cupping her face as he pulls her down, crashing their lips together in a deep, needy kiss. Their mouths move in perfect sync, tongues exploring, claiming. His fingers slide down to the hem of her shirt, tugging it over her head and tossing it aside before quickly unclasping her bra. As soon as her breasts are free, his hands are on her, fingers tracing the soft curves before rolling her nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

Y/N whimpers against his lips, arching into his touch, her body already unraveling beneath his hands. “So desperate, my love,” Liam chuckles, his voice thick with desire. She doesn’t hesitate, reaching for the waistband of his shorts and tugging them down his legs, freeing his cock. It springs up, thick and aching, the head flushed and already leaking. She bites her lip at the sight, heat pooling low in her belly.

Liam shifts, moving them both with ease. Before she knows it, he’s at the edge of the bed, standing, while she kneels on the mattress before him. He grabs her waist, turning her effortlessly, pressing her forward so her hands and knees rest on the bed. She shivers at the feeling of him behind her, his presence towering, dominant.

His hands trace over the curve of her ass, fingertips gliding over her soft skin before delivering a sharp smack that sends a delicious sting across her flesh. She gasps, looking back at him with darkened eyes. “You like that, huh?” Liam muses, voice laced with amusement as his fingers slide between her folds, gathering the wetness pooling there. He groans, rubbing slow, torturous circles over her clit before slipping two fingers inside her with ease.

“Gods—Liam,” she moans, pushing back against his hand, her body already craving more. His other hand wraps around his cock, stroking a few times before teasing the head against her entrance, coating himself in her slick arousal. “You ready for me?” he murmurs, his voice rough. Y/N glances back, meeting his gaze. “Yes,” she breathes. “Please, Liam. I need you.”

His jaw clenches at her plea, and in one slow, deep thrust, he buries himself inside her. Y/N gasps at the stretch, her body instinctively clenching around him, adjusting to his size. Liam groans low, his hands gripping her hips as he stills for a moment, savoring the tight heat wrapped around him. “Fuck, you feel incredible,” he rasps, his fingers digging into her waist. Then he starts to move.

His thrusts are slow at first, measured, letting her feel every inch of him, but soon the control snaps, and he pounds into her with deep, relentless strokes. Y/N moans into the bedding, her back arching, her body meeting his movements eagerly. His hand glides up her spine, tangling into her hair before gently tugging, tilting her head to the side. “You’re so perfect like this,” he murmurs, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the curve of her shoulder.

“Liam—oh gods—it feels so good,” she whines, her fingers gripping the sheets as he drives into her, each thrust hitting a devastatingly perfect spot inside her. He groans, his breath hot against her skin. “I wanna try something.” She nods before he even explains. “Yes. Please, baby—use me however you want.” A deep, satisfied growl rumbles from his chest. His right hand glides down her spine before sliding lower, his thumb pressing against the tight ring of muscle between her cheeks.

Y/N gasps, her body going still for a moment. She’s never done this before—but when it comes to Liam, she’d try anything. He pulls his thumb back, bringing it to his lips and wetting it before returning to her, rubbing small, slow circles around the sensitive entrance. The sensation is foreign but intoxicating, sending a new kind of thrill through her body. “Relax for me, baby,” he murmurs, his voice soothing. “You’re doing so well.”

She lets out a shaky breath, her body adjusting as he pushes his thumb inside, inch by inch. The initial stretch fades quickly, replaced by an overwhelming rush of pleasure as the added stimulation heightens every other sensation. “Fuck—Liam,” she moans, her walls clenching around him. The fullness, the pressure—it’s unlike anything she’s felt before. He smirks behind her, his thrusts growing harder, deeper, his thumb working in slow, deliberate strokes. “I knew you’d love it,” he groans. “Can’t wait to fuck you here, too. Make you feel me in every way.”

His words send her spiraling. The coil in her stomach tightens dangerously, her whole body trembling. “Liam—gods—I’m so close.” “Let go for me, baby,” he pants, his movements becoming erratic. “Cum for me.” Her orgasm slams into her, a white-hot wave of pleasure crashing over her as she cries out his name. Her body clenches around him, drawing him deeper, milking every last bit of pleasure from her.

Liam groans, his grip on her tightening as he thrusts one final time, his own release following hers. He spills inside her with a deep, guttural moan, his body shuddering as he collapses forward, his chest pressing against her back. For a long moment, neither of them move, both lost in the haze of pleasure. Finally, Liam withdraws, gently pulling his thumb free before smoothing his hands over her heated skin in a soothing touch.

Y/N collapses onto the bed, her body still trembling from the aftershocks. Liam follows, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. She sighs against his chest, pressing a lazy kiss to his skin. “So, how’s your back?” Liam chuckles, his fingers tracing lazy circles over her bare hip. “Mmm. Perfect.” She grins, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. “Glad I could help.” His lips brush over hers, slow and tender. “Oh, you definitely helped,” he murmurs, smirking against her mouth. “But now I think I need a little more recovery time… maybe another session?”

Y/N laughs, rolling her eyes. “You’re insatiable.” “And you love it.” She hums, pressing closer. “Yeah, I do.” And as Liam kisses her again, slow and deep, she thinks she wouldn’t have it any other way.

[kingdom-of-sins]

Garrick is that guy who get existential crisis everytime his gf doesn't use him as her pillow. He wakes up in the middle of the night to find you change your position and sleeping on your pillow, he would pull you right back to his arms. Imagine him carefully trying to move his arms under your head, trying not to wake you. Imagine him kicking your pillow when you are not watching. Imagine him with a big grin when you get to bed and immediately put your head on his chest

[lydscare]

Xaden Riorson Fluff Alphabet

| warnings/notes: suggestive notes for kissing and I briefly mention sex to get a point across, the start kind sucks ngl, wc: 3k ;-;

a/n: sooo hi. i’m sorry i’ve been dead😭ihavenoesxcuses anyways, here are some xaden hcs because I finally finished iron flame (from summer shushh) and yes. i am publishing this at 11 at night. my sleeping schedule was always ruined from the start-

fluff alphabet is from @/snk-warriors

reader is written as gender neutral / masterlist

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

when Xaden has free time (either from being a wingleader or from helping run the rebellion) all of his breaks are spent with you

he doesn't do anything too special during these rare moments of peace and quiet with you. they’re special to him because he’s with you and that’s all he really needs

sometimes you two train, sometimes you two just sit and talk on the roof (whether that be at Basgaith or at Riorson House) about each other’s day and events that happened while the other wasn’t there

most days he’ll just trail you and silently stand with you as you go about completing some ordinary tasks. it offers him a certain comforting peace to see you go about your day in a less hectic and chaotic fashion then he’s used to

he also may just drag you to his room for cuddles <3

he’d be fine to do anything that you’d want to do with this spare time you two rarely get, but he really just wants to be able to be silently comforted by just you at the simple fact that you exist and are waiting for him when he comes back to you; his home

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

if we’re talking about physical beauty then it would be your hair (sorry if you’re bald 🫢)

whether it’s long or short, straight or curly; he loves it. he wasn’t kidding when he told Violet that all she needs to do to win an argument is let her hair down. just play with your hair a bit and you’ll FEEL his gaze instantly be drawn to the motion. he might even pause what he’s saying for a heartbeat before he promptly ignores his own reaction

but personality wise it’s probably your softness/patience with him. he knows that he can be frustrating to put up with but you still love him and are patient with him about opening up and he truly appreciates that more than you could know

he also enjoys that he can be vulnerable around you (hence the ‘softness’) he hasn’t been in a relationship like that before so it’s kinda odd for him but he likes it soo

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

he’s had his fair share of panic attacks probably, so he’d recognize the building signs and realize “oh shit. my beautiful s/o is freaking out.”

at first I think he wouldn’t be entirely sure what to do. sure he’s handled his fair share of panic attacks but he isn’t exactly sure how to help someone else who is having them, considering he just ✨deals with it✨ on his own

he ends up just touching you to help keep you grounded. he’d cup your face and lean your forehead against his, whispering to you reassuring words like “i’m here” and that “you’ll be okay. it’ll pass”

he’ll seat you on his lap and hold you, rubbing his knuckles against your back until eventually you manage to calm down and rest your head against his shoulder

he also does that thing where he tells you to count your breaths with him “breath in, breath out. breath in, breath out. see sweetheart, you’re doing great. just keep going, alright?”

overall physical touch is his way of comforting you during a panic attack

if you feel sad he will also at first have no idea how to help you, considering he’d probably mostly be the one to turn to you for comfort so he’s unsure how to go about providing the same thing for you

he’s trying his best tho, truly. he ends up just having you tell him what’s making you feel down and he’s sure to listen intently. he’s a great listener. he’ll kiss your forehead all while telling you that he’ll be here for you until you start feeling in better spirits

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Xaden doesn't tend to think too much about his future with you

he’s too concerned with making sure that you two survive to the next day so he doesn't really have enough time to think about it

although there are times when the possibilities of your future together starts to develop in his mind, but he doesn't allow himself to think too much about it

he’s kind of scared to have a too optimistic outlook on the future. he’s scared to give you two false hope

as long as your at his side by the end of the day he’ll be satisfied 

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Overall Xaden would be the dominant one in the relationship

that isn’t to say that you don’t have moments of dominance as well (you have quite a few ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), you can be very persuasive) but Xaden does tend to take the lead overall 

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

um…

Xaden is a very stubborn individual. he always tends to believe that he’s constantly in the right and that what he says goes

such as telling you that coming with him for a weapon drop off is too dangerous but you go with him anyway

he’ll mainly try to act grumpy about it but (for things that aren’t too big a deal) he’ll get over it in a few minutes

but if the argument is very explosive then he’ll probably distance himself, train and blow off some steam before he goes to you wanting to talk about the issue with you more

I think he would be overall pretty reasonable in an argument (except for special occasions when his stubbornness and temper get the best of him) but you need to be able to hold yourself against him. not that he’s your enemy is these instances, he’s just stubborn and you may need to repeat yourself a few times for your words to really sink in against his

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

he’s very much aware of what you do for him. he knows that being in a relationship with him can be so hard, but the fact that you love and stay with him despite that? he all the more loves and appreciates you for it (if that’s even possible)

he tends to sometimes see himself as a burden (romantically) to you, but he’s selfish and he’s not letting you go anytime soon. you’re the best thing that happened to him and he’ll be damned if he lets you leave him

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

👀👀

his red flag is pretty much keeping secrets from you.

not directly lying but refraining information (his words)

granted he wouldn’t hide information from you that you would die without but it is still annoying as fuck

due to you being the first relationship he’s been in that contains vulnerability and emotions, he doesn't know how to be transparently honest. he wants to try sharing things with you, but he has no idea how

teach him please. he probably hasn’t ever had a real loving relationship before so he’d going to stumble a lot in the process but he’ll keep trying 

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helping them overcome personal problems?

he becomes more honest and vulnerable with you

you teach him that having emotions beside anger doesn't make him weak

you help him be able to be more.. human  

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

short answer: yes. Xaden gets jealous

but it can go one of two ways

1) he grits his teeth and bares the other person being more around you while he’s seething on the inside (with an occasional dig at them every now and then)

or 2) he goes all out. hands are constantly touching you. he puts his arm around your shoulder and just calmly is like “yeah, my s/o is fun to talk to” with an almost dangerously low voice

honestly he just needs a little reassurance from you that nothing’s going on and he’ll be fine. he trusts you 100% (he’d still be pissed at someone looking at you in any way like that tho)

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

needless to say, Xaden’s an amazing kisser

although he has experience, he and you both know that he’s never kissed someone with as much passion as he does with you. the high he gets off just by kissing you is only a fraction of what sex had given him before you

his kisses always tend to be heated. even his pecks which are usually hard and quick can leave your body gently humming

Xaden is very observant and after a few make out sessions with him he quickly figures out what you like and makes sure to use those techniques with you later on

he tends to use his tongue and use his teeth to pull on your bottom lip

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

i he’d be the type to confess his love to you either in a moment of passion or in an argument or after/before a near death experience in which you or he almost died (yes, this is wide variety but bear with me please-)

the scenario would play out like this: say that you decided that it would be okay to join him in a weapon run to the griffin riders. things escalate and you and Xaden end up getting attacked by venins and wyverns blah blah blah. eventually you two just narrowly escaped death again, and you thought nothing of it. but then Xaden turns to look at you with the most cold and angry look that you’ve ever seen. he starts raising his voice at you, asking you why you even snuck to go on the run without him knowing and how it was a reckless and stupid decision on your part. but you weren’t going to just stand there and let him insult you so easily so soon enough you both are practically shouting at each other about how you wanted to be there and that you’d do it again if you so choosed. and Xaden says that you’re not and you say you are, and eventually you just straight up ask him why he doesn't want you to go with him considering life threatening situations weren’t anything new to you, and he, built up with rage and fear from almost losing you again just says that is was because he loved you and he couldnt bare to think what would’ve happened to you if– and he just confessed to you, huh? you both get all quiet after that. it’s a bombshell moment for you two considering he never told you it before despite you two having been in a relationship for a while

(i’ll let you figure out how the aftermath goes ;))

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

at first marriage isn’t really on Xaden’s mind. he’s so busy just trying to keep you and him alive that he doesn’t really think too much about your guy’s future relationship. he’s just taking it one day at a time

but- they’ll come a certain instance where you two may be sitting alone on the roof of Riorson House or you laugh at your own really bad joke. and he’s just softly smiling while looking over at you. and he comes to the realization that this, you, are the person that he wants to spend the rest of his life with even in the hell that your lives have been. then marriage randomly pops into his mind and- no, no, no, no. he is NOT going to think about marriage right now. he low-key feels kinda guilty for thinking about it?? you two are in the middle of a damn war! people are dying and here he is thinking about marrying you like a lovesick boy? cue Xaden not being able to process his emotions so he finds excuses to keep a bit of distance between you two. eventually you ask him about it and he reassures you that it’s nothing. and while he’s back to being near you most of the time, he’s a bit.. different. less talkative. you’ve caught him a few times with this blank look on his face, seemingly staring off into space. and he seems a bit more distant physically too, more hesitant with his touch. eventually though (you two are probably all cuddled up in his bed) and he just asks you your opinion on marriage. and by the gods, it’s your first time ever seeing Xaden look nervous, REALLY NERVOUS, avoiding eye contact and everything- if you do (gods he hopes) say that you’re open to marriage he’s secretly ecstatic about it (you can’t tell tho) and it gives him another reason for him to give his all every day during this war

(if you’re not a fan of marriage and you voice that he’ll slowly die inside, but he’ll get over it)

he’ll find somewhere where they give away wedding rings and you pick the one that he thinks you’ll love the most and won’t bother wearing all the time. he wouldn’t hesitate to threaten the vendor if for some reason the ring wasn’t for sale.

he’ll just carry the ring wherever he goes, waiting for the right moment to propose to you

he wouldn’t really want a big party or wedding. but if you wanted one you two would make it a smaller one with just your friends and family

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

your nickname would probably have to do with your initial (the first letter of your name) and something that he enjoys about you (Violence for Violet, Flash for Fiona, Tiger for Tammy, etc.) I think you get the idea 😭

other than that he doesn’t use nicknames that much though

but petnames wise he’d call you sweetheart, darling, princess (in a more teasing/mocking way) and he MAY call you love but but it’s even more rare. he’d probably only use it on special occasions

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

i think people can just.. tell

like he doesn’t even need to say that you two are dating to know that there’s something between you two

the way his eyes will slightly soften when he looks at you. or how his eyes always stay focused on yours. or how if anyone disrespects you or doubts your words then he gets all defensive and snaps at the person

even if you two are in a situation where he isn’t going to be physically affectionate with you as much as he normally does, people just KNOW that your his and that they better not mess with you

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

it depends on where he is. that normally affects how affectionate he is with you

sometimes he acknowledges that there are moments that require him to be more professional and he’ll be careful not to be too affectionate with you in public (although he would sneak his hand on the small of your back or on your thigh if you two are sitting next to each other or manage to give your hand a light squeeze when he knew no one was looking.)

if he’s around people who hate him or you being physically affectionate- he will always keep a hand on you. on your waist, hip, shoulder, the small of your back or just simple hand holding

he likes touching you in public. he thinks it’s funny to see people be pissed off at his direct touches. but it’s you and that’s enough of a reason for him to enjoy touching you, in public or private. pissing people off in the process is just a little bonus to him. he basks in people’s anger at his shenanigans a bit too much but who are you to complain, really?

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

his shadows and title/reputation

due to his reputation, people are scared to question him, practically meaning that you could go wherever you wish. all you need to do is drop his name to a guard or general and their face seems to lightly pale and you’re free to do as you please

and in the rare state where he can’t be physically touching you he has his shadows comfort you in some way, although he’d prefer to do it himself

he also is practically your body guard so that’s a plus

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

this depends on your bias. although he himself is somewhere in the middle. while he tends to be truly romantic in private, he might do a romantic gesture in public every now and then like kiss you passionately (you one where he picks you up and spins you around before kissing you type-thing) but still a bit more rare

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Xaden would lean more towards being supportive, but also kind of not?? 

like… he cares about you and all and he believes that part of that is sort of bringing you back to reality kind of thing 

he’s not the type to entertain goals for himself, especially if they seem to be sort of out of reach

it’s not that he’d say anything trying to hurt your feelings or that he doesn't see you as capable of achieving any high goals, but it can come off as him shutting you down sometimes

he’s kind of a pessimist at heart so 🤷

it’s worth noting that if your goals in life imply that your life would be in danger most of the time then you’re not going to get much support on that front :/ but he can’t stop you (you’re too badass)

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

thrills aren’t really needed in your relationship with Xaden 

if anything, you and Xaden are looking for the opposite

a relationship with Xaden can be hard and stressful to maintain when you’re constantly surrounded by riders always trying to kill each other 

a sense of normalcy and domesticity and some type of a hangout schedule is pretty much a need, not something sPicY

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

he isn’t empathetic right out of the gate 

BUT i think that he would grow to understand his partner and would grow to be more empathetic through your relationship with him 

like said before, you help him be able to connect with his emotions, even the sad ones and that helps him be able to be a more empathic person as a whole 

when it comes to less emotional knowing and more so physical/material knowing he knows EVERYTHING about you 

any little new bit of information that you drop about yourself he keeps tucked away in the back of his mind 

and it isn’t like he’s memorizing it, it’s just so easy for him to remember everything about you

favorite foods, favorite color, the places and people that you like to go to 

he doesn't just know what you like either, he also keeps track of what you hate as well, which can come in very handy

he can ready your body language very well, and always knows just by looking at you if he  would need to come up with an excuse for you two to leave whatever the situation is 

he’s really good at reading his partner

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

it may not always be obvious, but you are the most important thing in his life. he will drop everything and anything just to ensure your safety

he said that he’d let Basgiath burn to the ground for Violet soooo

pretty safe to say that you would be his priority

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

he ALWAYS is staring deep into your eyes. his eye contact is constant. even when your attention is directed to someone else and you’re not directly looking at him, he’s looking at you

if you ever rant to him about something he’s always staring into your eyes. he could do it for hours. sometimes his stare can be too much for you and you need to glance away as you try to prevent a flush from overcoming your cheeks

he knows that this stare gets you flustered, and he basks in seeing you squirm under his intent gaze

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

yes

he enjoys kisses and makeouts in public and private. it doesn’t matter too much to him. either way he gets to show you how much you mean to him. he prefers allowing his actions to speak for him instead of his words and boy does he deliver-

it would take him a bit longer to get used to cuddles though. the first time you just casually tried to cuddle him he was so stiff. he just didn’t exactly know what you wanted from him. after you explained that you just wanted to be near and close to him, entrapped in his warmth he suddenly really liked it??

you always end up sleeping in his room at the Riorson House. he tends to intertwine his legs with yours and his arms rest around your waist and he just holds you close to him, your back against his chest (often he won’t let you leave before him in the morning, saying in his morning voice “mm.. five more minutes.”)

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

he kinda doesn’t

anytime he needs to be away from you (either in fourth wing as wingleader or in iron flame leading the rebellion) he makes sure to distract himself with with his duties because if he thinks too much about you he might just have Sgaeyl fly him back over to you

every time after he’s had to be separated from you for multiple days he always greets you with a hug and a kiss

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Xaden is willing to go all the way for you

he’s quite literally all “i’d LET THE WORLD BURN for you” type guy

he’s willing to try and better himself for you. he wants to be able to comfort you and love you on days where you maybe can’t love yourself. he wants to be a sword and shield for you. he’ll protect you and love you at all costs and even death won’t separate his heart and soul from you

sooo… yeah

[angstywaifu]

Xaden: In my defence, I was left unsupervised. Violet: Wasn’t Garrick with you? Garrick: In my defence, I was also left unsupervised.

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

Convenient Inconvenience

Summary: Forced to share a tent on a mission, the simmering tension between you and Xaden finally reaches a breaking point.

Fictober Challenge

This mission had dragged on longer than expected, forcing you to settle in for the night. Luckily, Xaden had packed a small tent as an emergency measure, but he’d only packed one. That had left you frustrated, realizing that it was partly your fault too, for not bringing your own. In your defense, you’d assumed the mission would end smoothly.

A charged silence hung between you both as the reality of sharing a tent set in. You tried to keep your focus on unrolling your mat, but your thoughts kept drifting back to the tension that had been growing between you for months. The cramped space felt even smaller with him inside, every move amplifying your heartbeat as you sensed him close behind, watching you.

The silence became unbearable, heavy with something you couldn’t name, as you lay on your mat trying to feign ease. But your heart raced each time he shifted closer. Every so often, his gaze flicked over to you, lingering a bit too long, and it was both thrilling and terrifying.

You had to say something, break the silence.“You really couldn’t have packed an extra tent?” you muttered, attempting to keep your voice casual but failing to mask the edge in your tone. 

He could’ve argued, pointing out that you’d forgotten your own, but he let it go, opting for a softer response. “Well, I’m sure we’ll manage for one night,” he replied, his words coming out quieter than he’d intended.

A moment passed, thick with unspoken words, and you could practically feel his smirk. He turned onto his side, facing you, his arm brushing against yours. The touch was light, barely there, yet it sent a spark down your spine. You glanced over, meeting his gaze, steady and intense, as if waiting to see if you’d pull away.

“Are you uncomfortable?” he asked, a hint of amusement threading his voice, almost challenging you.

You forced a laugh, shrugging, though his nearness made it hard to think straight. “I’m fine, Riorson. Just… trying to get comfortable.” You avoided his gaze, but his eyes traced over you, trailing over your face, lingering on your mouth.

Another moment passed, the air growing thicker, every breath loaded with anticipation. He shifted again, his hand brushing against yours deliberately this time, his fingers grazing your knuckles, his touch light, almost testing. “Strange,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear, sending a shiver through you. “You don’t look fine.”

You turned to him, finally meeting his gaze head-on. His eyes were dark, intense, and filled with unspoken desire. “You’re… seeing things,” you managed, struggling against the heat radiating from him and the way his gaze seemed to strip away any defense you had.

“Am I?” he asked, his tone smooth and teasing, his mouth twitching into the faintest of smirks. “Because you seem a little… tense.”

You gaze flicked involuntarily to his mouth, and that fucker noticed, his smirk deepening. “And if I am?”

His hand shifted, his fingers tracing a light, almost absentminded line along your wrist, the touch setting your skin alight. “I could help with that,” he murmured, his eyes encouraging as they locked on yours, his face now only inches away, the question clear in his gaze.

You wanted to tell it was because of him, but you had a feeling he already knew.

You swallowed, your words caught in your throat, the tension between you impossible to ignore. His fingers continued their maddening path, traveling up your arm, igniting every inch they touched. You could’ve sworn he was slowly undressing you with his eyes, ready to ravish you at any moment.

He leaned in, his breath ghosting over your lips, his gaze heavy-lidded, dangerous. “Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper, “and I will.”

Your mind went blank, no rational thought left. You wanted him, you needed him. So instead of stopping him, you closed the distance, pressing your lips to his. The kiss was soft but deepened quickly, years of restraint breaking in an instant. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer, your bodies pressed together in the small space as the air around you cracked. Each touch, each kiss fueled a fire you’d tried for so long to ignore. You’d probably regret this in the morning, but right now, you didn’t care. All you cared about was him- his touch, his kiss, and everything that would follow.

[soulofapatrick]

The Fourth Wing Boys and their Kinks

Summary: Just what I think the boys' main kinks would be

Words: 3.9K words

Warnings: smut

➩ Overstimulation - Xaden thrives on control and precision, and overstimulation is his way of showing just how deeply he can unravel you. He takes his time, pushing you further than you thought possible, coaxing wave after wave of pleasure until you’re shaking beneath him. His low, gravelly voice whispers in your ear, “You can take more, can’t you?” as his skilled hands and lips continue their relentless assault. Xaden watches every reaction—your trembling limbs, breathless moans—with a predatory satisfaction, proving that only he can bring you to this point of exquisite surrender.

➩ Brat taming - Xaden’s authoritative personality means he doesn’t tolerate defiance for long—but he enjoys the challenge of taming a brat. When you test his patience with teasing remarks or deliberate disobedience, he’ll pin you with a dark, warning look that promises consequences. “Is that how you want to play this?” he growls, his voice a dangerous purr. Xaden thrives on putting you in your place, using firm dominance tempered with just enough restraint to make you crave more. By the end, you’re begging for forgiveness as he reminds you who’s really in control.

➩ Semi-public - The danger and thrill of semi-public intimacy appeal to Xaden’s dark, commanding nature. He’ll pull you into a shadowed corner, his hand firm on your hip as he murmurs in your ear, “Be quiet, or they’ll hear.” His touch is deliberate, teasing you while maintaining enough composure to keep control of the situation. The risk of being caught only heightens his intensity, as he pushes boundaries and leaves you breathless, flushed, and craving more even as others are mere feet away.

➩ Edging - Xaden has an unmatched patience when it comes to building anticipation. His touch is a tease, giving you just enough to drive you mad but never quite letting you fall over the edge. He watches every reaction intently—your gasps, the way your body arches beneath him—all while holding you back with a devilish smirk. “Not yet,” he’ll murmur, his tone dark and teasing. He enjoys knowing he’s the only one who can push you to the brink, dragging out the tension until you’re begging him to let go. The eventual release is explosive, leaving you trembling in his arms as he murmurs, “See what happens when you trust me?”

➩ Bondage - Xaden’s authoritative nature makes him an expert at restraint—both physically and emotionally. He enjoys tying you up, his rough hands gliding over your skin as he secures you with precise, unhurried movements. He takes his time, ensuring you feel safe, whispering promises of what’s to come. There’s a thrill in knowing you’re completely at his mercy, unable to touch him while he explores every inch of your body. He’ll linger, taking in the sight of you, his dark eyes filled with predatory satisfaction. “You look perfect like this,” he murmurs, his voice low and laced with intent, right before he shows you exactly how much he’s capable of.

➩ Thigh riding - Garrick’s serious, no-nonsense demeanour gives way to a deliciously commanding side in the bedroom. He’ll pull you onto his thigh, his hands firm on your hips as he guides your movements. His intense gaze locks on you, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches you lose control. “That’s it,” he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly. He revels in the power of knowing he can make you come undone with just his thigh, the tension in his body evident as he holds himself back from taking things further—until he decides you’ve earned it.

➩ Hair pulling - Garrick’s lack of patience shows through in his touch, rough and unrestrained when passion takes over. His hand tangles in your hair, pulling just enough to make you gasp, his lips curving into a wicked smile at your reaction. “You like that, don’t you?” he teases, his voice laced with amusement and desire. For Garrick, hair pulling isn’t just about control—it’s about eliciting raw, unfiltered responses from you, something that feeds his need to break through his usual stoic exterior.

➩ Face fucking - Garrick’s authoritative nature shines in this act, where he takes full control, ensuring you’re as much a participant as you are at his mercy. He guides you with firm, steady hands, his tone encouraging yet commanding. “Good girl,” he growls, his voice thick with arousal. Garrick’s focus is unwavering, watching you with intense eyes that hold a mixture of pride and hunger. He’s mindful of your limits but pushes them just enough, ensuring that every moment feels like both a challenge and a reward.

➩ Somnophilia - Garrick’s protective side translates into a fascination with your vulnerability, though he would never act without explicit trust and consent. On rare occasions, he might wake you with soft, lingering kisses and featherlight touches, murmuring your name as his hands explore your body. His low chuckle would accompany your sleepy, surprised reactions. “Couldn’t wait,” he’d whisper against your skin, his tone teasing but tender. For Garrick, it’s about cherishing the intimacy of those quiet, unguarded moments where nothing exists but the two of you.

➩ Body worship - Garrick’s serious, duty-oriented personality doesn’t stop him from showing reverence for your body. His hands move with purpose, exploring every inch of you with quiet intensity. He takes his time, pressing kisses to scars, curves, and soft spots, his humor shining through as he murmurs playful compliments and earnest praise. “Perfect,” he’ll say, his voice full of conviction, his eyes filled with adoration. For Garrick, body worship is about showing you how much he values you—every mark, every flaw, every detail—and reminding you that you’re utterly, completely his.

➩ Praise kink - Liam thrives on knowing he can make you feel good, both emotionally and physically. His words are genuine and heartfelt, spoken with an edge of playfulness that keeps the mood light. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he’ll murmur, his hands steady and warm as they explore your body. Liam’s praise comes from a place of deep admiration and care—he enjoys building you up, reminding you just how much you mean to him in every whispered compliment and tender touch.

➩ Cunnilingus - Liam is the definition of generous in the bedroom, and nothing brings him more satisfaction than focusing all his attention on you. He’s thorough, patient, and utterly devoted, taking his time to learn exactly what makes you gasp and moan. He’ll lock eyes with you, a playful grin on his lips as he revels in every sound you make. “That’s it,” he’ll say, his voice husky with pride and arousal. For Liam, it’s not just an act—it’s a way of showing his loyalty and unwavering desire to put your pleasure first.

➩ Breeding - Liam’s loyalty and protective instincts lend themselves to a fascination with the idea of creating something lasting and permanent with you. The thought of you carrying a piece of him makes his possessive side flare in the most tender way. He’d pull you close, his tone a mixture of seriousness and affection. “You’d look so good carrying my baby,” he’d whisper, his hands firm on your hips, his words equal parts tease and promise. For Liam, it’s about deepening the bond between you, a physical representation of the love and commitment he holds so fiercely.

➩ Body worship - Liam’s charm and natural warmth make him an expert at lavishing attention on you. His hands are soft but firm, his lips leaving trails of kisses over every inch of your skin. He’ll pause at scars or imperfections, lingering to show his appreciation for every part of you. “Every bit of you is perfect,” he’ll murmur, his gaze full of sincerity. For Liam, body worship is his way of cherishing you, ensuring you never doubt how deeply he adores and values you.

➩ Foreplay - Liam loves to take his time, making foreplay an essential part of the experience. His humour and charm shine here, as he uses teasing touches and playful banter to build anticipation. He’ll trace soft kisses along your neck, whispering dirty jokes or sweet compliments in your ear. His hands are everywhere, learning every inch of you and coaxing you into a state of absolute need before taking things further. For Liam, foreplay isn’t just a precursor—it’s a way to connect with you emotionally and physically, ensuring every moment is unforgettable.

➩ Cunnilingus - Bodhi takes immense pride in his ability to please you, and he approaches it with both enthusiasm and tenderness. His playful nature comes through as he grins up at you, clearly enjoying every sound you make. “You taste so good,” he’ll murmur, his hands gripping your thighs to hold you steady. For Bodhi, it’s not just about the physical act—it’s about making you feel completely adored and cared for. He loves seeing you let go under his touch, knowing he’s the one responsible for your pleasure.

➩ Thigh riding - Bodhi’s tactile nature makes thigh riding one of his favourite ways to tease and connect with you. He’ll settle you on his lap, guiding your hips with firm hands, a playful smirk on his face as he encourages you to let loose. “Come on, sweetheart, show me what you’ve got,” he’ll say, his tone equal parts teasing and supportive. The friction and closeness drive him wild, and he loves the intimacy of having you so close, your pleasure written all over your face.

➩ Body worship - Bodhi’s sweet and protective nature makes him a master of body worship. He takes his time, tracing kisses along every inch of your skin, murmuring soft words of admiration with every touch. “You’re perfect, you know that?” he’ll say, his voice full of warmth and sincerity. Bodhi focuses on making you feel completely cherished, his hands gentle but deliberate as they roam your body. For him, body worship is about showing you just how deeply he values every part of you, inside and out.

➩ Marking - Bodhi’s protective streak and affectionate personality make marking you an irresistible form of connection. He’s not aggressive about it but rather playful and intentional, leaving gentle bites, kisses, or love marks where only the two of you know to look. “Gotta let everyone know you’re mine,” he’ll tease, his tone light but with a possessive edge. Bodhi loves the idea of leaving reminders of your time together, a way of keeping you close even when you’re apart. His touch is always careful and full of affection, ensuring every mark is a testament to how much he cherishes you.

➩ Somnophilia - Bodhi’s protective instincts make this kink a uniquely intimate experience for him. He’s drawn to the trust it requires, ensuring you’re fully comfortable and consenting beforehand. He’d wake you with soft, lingering touches, his voice low and soothing as he brings you to consciousness. “Good morning, gorgeous,” he’d murmur, his lips brushing against your skin as he eases you into pleasure. For Bodhi, it’s about blending affection and desire, making you feel safe and loved even in your most vulnerable moments.

➩ Semi-public - Ridoc’s humour and cheeky attitude make the idea of semi-public encounters irresistible. He enjoys the thrill of being caught—whether it’s in a secluded corner or in a place where there’s just enough risk of discovery to get his heart racing. “It’s not really public,” he’ll smirk, “just a little bit naughty.” The risk of someone walking in makes every touch, every kiss, more charged, and Ridoc loves to tease, taking things just far enough to make you squirm with anticipation, all while still keeping it lighthearted and fun.

➩ Cockwarming - Despite Ridoc’s playful demeanour, there’s a surprising intensity to his need for connection. Cockwarming allows him to be close to you for extended periods, where the attention isn’t rushed, and he can just enjoy being near you. He may joke around about it, but deep down, it’s about claiming space with you—without words, just through quiet intimacy. “I’m not going anywhere,” he’ll whisper with a grin, letting the tension between you both grow as time stretches on. It’s a way for him to relax, feel grounded, and indulge in the closeness he craves without needing to rush.

➩ Marking - Ridoc’s protective side comes into play with marking. He isn’t aggressive about it, but there’s a playful, possessive edge to how he lays his claim. A quick nip on your neck or a mark left on your inner thigh, all done with a grin and a joke to lighten the mood. “You’re mine now, love,” he’ll tease, the lightheartedness making it clear he’s not trying to be domineering—just showing you he cares in his own, cheeky way.

➩ Dry humping - Ridoc’s tendency to turn everything into a joke extends to the teasing nature of dry humping. His quick wit and playful manner mean he’s not in a hurry to go straight to the finish line. He’ll slow things down, pressing against you, enjoying the friction and the way it drives you wild with anticipation. His commentary will keep the mood light, but the closeness and build-up make it far more than just playful—he knows exactly how to make you beg for more, all while keeping it fun and teasing. “What? Can’t a guy get a little close?” he’ll say with a mischievous grin, pushing you right to the edge of frustration.

➩ Body worship - Ridoc’s body worship isn’t about reverence or slow adoration—it’s a playful, affectionate admiration of every inch of you. He’ll touch, kiss, and caress you with a light, teasing air, as though he’s trying to see how much he can make you squirm. “You’re so damn beautiful,” he’ll joke, but there’s genuine affection in his voice as his hands trace over your body, paying attention to every detail. For Ridoc, it’s about making you feel adored while keeping the mood light and fun.

➩ Praise Kink - Sawyer, with his steady nature and quiet confidence, would appreciate the validation of praise during intimacy. He’s not one to flaunt his abilities or demand attention, but when it comes to satisfying you, he would be incredibly attentive and would enjoy the reassurance of hearing how much you appreciate him. His praise would be understated but earnest, low and smooth, always making sure you know how well you’re doing, and how beautiful he finds you. “You’re perfect like this,” he’d murmur, the calm satisfaction in his voice making you feel cherished. For Sawyer, praise would be an intimate expression of trust and respect, not about feeding his ego but about connecting with you on a deeper level.

➩  Silent sex - Given Sawyer’s composed and calm demeanour, silent sex would be something he finds deeply intimate. He doesn’t feel the need for words to communicate with you during these moments; the silence would be a shared understanding between the two of you. His focus would be entirely on you—each touch, every movement would be deliberate and purposeful. When it comes to making love to you, he doesn’t need to speak to show how much he cares. His gaze, his slow, calculated movements, and the way his hands hold you close would be enough. The quiet moments are where Sawyer’s tenderness shines through, without the need for anything other than the connection between your bodies.

➩  Cunnilingus - Sawyer’s attentiveness to your needs would make him a patient and thorough lover when it comes to cunnilingus. He would take his time, savouring every moment as he worships your body. The way he focuses on you, his hands gently holding your hips as he learns every contour of your pleasure, would be an act of devotion. His quiet, calculating mind would apply the same precision to this as he does with any challenge, ensuring you’re completely satisfied. “Let me take care of you,” he’d say softly, his voice a low promise as he shows you how much he values you. Sawyer would treat this act with reverence, a true sign of how deeply he wants to please you.

➩  Hair pulling - Though Sawyer is generally calm and in control, his intensity would come through in moments of passion. Hair pulling would be a subtle but powerful way for him to express his desire, guiding you when things get heated. His approach would be firm but not harsh—he wouldn’t pull roughly, but rather in a way that brings you closer to him. He’d pull you into a kiss, using the grip on your hair to tilt your head just the way he wants, making sure you’re exactly where he wants you. “You make me lose control sometimes,” he’d whisper, his voice low and breathy as he uses the act to both claim and connect with you.

➩  Cockwarming - Sawyer’s need for connection and his ability to remain calm under pressure would make cockwarming a deeply intimate act for him. He’s not one to rush, and he would enjoy the sensation of being close to you without the pressure to go further immediately. For him, it’s about closeness, the sensation of you against him, and the trust it builds between the two of you. He would enjoy the quiet intimacy of it, keeping you close, feeling your body against his while taking a moment to breathe and simply enjoy the bond. “Just stay with me a little longer,” he’d murmur, enjoying the connection, his hands softly caressing your skin as he holds you close.

➩ Overstimulation - Brennan’s strategic mind would approach overstimulation with precision, as if orchestrating every touch to maximise your pleasure. He has the patience to carefully build you up, ensuring you’re pushed to the brink again and again, each time giving you just enough to keep you on edge. He’d be meticulous in his actions, feeling every reaction you give as he carefully stretches your limits. “Just a little longer,” he’d murmur, his thumb brushing over your skin to calm you before he builds you up again, watching the way your body trembles for him. There’s a level of control and care, but also a subtle intensity in his need to take you to the edge of madness before finally letting go.

➩ Cockwarming - Brennan would use cockwarming as a way to foster a deep, intimate connection without needing to rush. It’s more about the quiet moment, the closeness, and his need to keep you near him. He’d likely enjoy the sensation of simply being with you, even if it means waiting. “We’re not in a hurry,” he’d say softly, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand as you rest against him. This act, for him, would be about claiming a small space in the world that’s just for the two of you, even if it’s not overtly sexual. There’s a tenderness to it—a way of connecting without words.

➩ Brat taming - Though Brennan doesn’t seem the type to be openly dominant, his patience and ability to think things through would make him very good at brat taming. He wouldn’t mind the pushback, recognising it as a challenge to be solved. When you act up, he’s likely to smile, knowing he has all the time in the world to bring you back into line. His voice would be calm, almost soothing, as he guides you back into submission. “You can keep testing me, but you’ll only end up exactly where I want you,” he’d say with a grin, letting his hands wander with gentle but firm authority. His approach would never be angry—more like an opportunity to remind you who’s in charge, without needing to raise his voice.

➩ Rough - Despite his tendency to focus on strategic thinking and being calm under pressure, Brennan’s rough side would come out when he knows it’s what you need. His patience would flip into a sudden intensity, driven by his desire to take control and deliver a release for both of you. He’d be firm, but never reckless—his roughness would have purpose behind it, focused on bringing you to your breaking point with intent. “This is what you wanted,” he’d say lowly, his hands gripping your hips as he moves with a force that contrasts with his usual composed nature. For him, roughness would be a way to show his intensity, grounded in his usual self-assurance.

➩ Thigh riding - Brennan would likely enjoy thigh riding as a subtle, playful way to enjoy intimacy without diving straight into more intense acts. His focus on connection means he’d want to enjoy the sensation of you moving against him, your bodies close, without the pressure of rushing. He would love watching you ride his thigh, enjoying how your body responds to the friction. “You look so good like this,” he’d murmur, a grin tugging at his lips as he enjoys the view of you, his hands resting on your hips to guide you with gentle encouragement. It’s a mix of tenderness and desire, with a steady intensity that matches his personality.

Fourth Wing Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 12th Oct 2024

[saintsanddevils]

Never Alone - pt 2

Aaric Graycastle x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’re called to the Fourth Wing, much to Aaric’s annoyance.

Warnings: Iron Flame spoilers, ANGST, yearning, slow burn friends-to-lovers, dual POV (Reader & Aaric)

Word Count: 2.5K

Part One | Part Three

————

-Rider’s Quadrant-

(Reader POV)

My thighs are burning and my feet ache from climbing those damn stairs when I finally reach the top. The line of recruits is going by faster now. I’m hoping this means it’s almost over. Or maybe more people are falling to their deaths on the parapet.

Shit, this is such a bad idea.

I close my eyes to calm my breathing, counting backwards from 100 before I can feel the nerves slowly dissipate. I try to tap into that earlier anger and frustration. Remembering when I found Cam’s room empty and barren, a half-ass letter about touring the country twisting my gut. He’d never do such a frivolous thing. Halden would, but not Cam. Besides, he would’ve invited me to go with him. The fact that he didn’t was his first mistake.

Now, I’m sweaty, tired, and grumpy and about to strangle the life out of a Prince of Navarre.

I’m next in line when I freeze. Violet Sorrengail stares at me in horror. I’ve known her for far too long that I recognize the waves of shock, worry, and sorrow flit through her hazel eyes.

It’s Dain who speaks first, startling me by his presence.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he mutters low enough so only the three of us can hear. “You too?”

I steel my spine, pinching my nails into my palms to keep myself from bolting. If Cam wants to get himself caught up in a war, I’m going to make sure he doesn’t die.

“Y/N… Thorne,” I wince, knowing I just used my mother’s maiden name. Hopefully, no one will see the connection. It’s too late now.

Both Violet and Dain stare openly, the latter looking as though he’ll crack a tooth from grinding his teeth so hard. Violet looks more understanding with the way her face begins to soften.

“I know why you’re here,” she says. “But I don’t think anyone can stop him.”

I narrow my gaze. “I know, that’s why I’ve come to make sure he doesn’t break that pretty neck of his.”

Violet’s mouth almost curves into a smile while Dain shakes his head in obvious annoyance.

“Let’s just invite the entire palace, while we’re at it,” he murmurs to himself.

“Y/N Thorne,” I repeat.

Violet nods, motioning to the woman next to her to write it down.

I turn away from them only to stop when Violet whispers, “Don’t die, Y/L/N.”

I smirk before stepping onto the parapet. “Promise, Sorrengail.”

——————————————

“Aaric Graycastle to Second Squad, Flame Section, Fourth Wing.”

Aaric Graycastle. I scoff. He must’ve made that last name up. I recognize his middle name, and I promise myself not to give in and tell him how much it suits him. He has enough arrogance as it is.

I don’t take my eyes off his sandy-brown hair as he makes his way to stand in the first row of the Fourth Wing, a few feet away from Violet in the second row. He stands perfectly straight as he waits next to a girl who looks like she might puke at any second.

The crowd of cadets thins the longer we stand here until the woman on the dais draws my attention away from Aaric. “Y/N Thorne to Second Squad, Flame Section, Second Wing—“

Dain stops her, speaking quickly before she nods, and he steps away, meeting my gaze.

“Correction,” she continues. “Y/N Thorne to Second Squad, Flame Section, Fourth Wing.”

I give Dain a nod of appreciation as I make my way over to Aaric’s and Violet’s wing. Violet gives me a look of relief, but as I look for Aaric, he’s glaring up at Dain on the dais.

“Miss me?” I mutter as I walk by him.

His tight fists are white by the time I find a spot in line. I’m two people away from him, but there could practically be no one around with the way I’m entirely too aware of his presence. He’s taller than all the first years, broader too, making it easy to see him in my peripheral.

Time moves quickly as speeches are made and when the dragons land heavily on the roof of the courtyard, panic grips me by the throat. Screams fill the air as they assess us like prey. They’re huge. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen a dragon, but it’s still just as terrifying. Survival instincts rise up and I feel myself begin to take a step back. A large hand suddenly grips my wrist, stopping me.

“Don’t move.”

Aaric is now beside me, holding me from bolting from the courtyard. With how quick he is in a fight, I’m not shocked he was able to maneuver his way next to me before the dragons could take notice.

His fingers tighten before slowly moving down my wrist to my palm, over the small scar, to the tips of my fingers. Warmth rushes through me from his touch, calming the rising panic. He slips his hand around mine and squeezes until they’re bound tightly together.

I count my breaths as he holds on to me, never letting go for a second. Not even as the new recruits around us scream and run for the parapet behind us.

Aaric suddenly stiffens as a one-eyed Orange Daggertail swivels its head towards them. And we’re directly in the way.

The dragon opens its massive jaw.

“Get down!” I hear Violet shout behind us just as Aaric lunges, tackling me to the gravel. He covers my body with his as fire blazes above us, close enough that the heat is practically suffocating. I curl to touch my forehead to the ground, holding back tears as a wave of overwhelming fear crashes over me.

I will not die.

I will not die.

I will. Not. Die.

I begin to count backwards from 100, breathing in and out, slowly. The crescendo of screams slowly begins to die down the longer we lie here, but the smell of burning flesh intensifies.

“You’re okay,” Aaric whispers in my ear. His breath tickles the skin of my neck. “Stay still. Keep counting, that’s it. In and out.”

I don’t acknowledge how I must be muttering the numbers aloud. I keep counting, as he instructed. My body trembles beneath his as I feel him slide his hands into mine. He tightens his fingers, grounding me.

I’m reminded of a time when I nearly drowned in the frozen lake near Cam’s winter home. We were reckless and young, and I remember him pulling me from the ice as he screamed for his guards. He was so scared as he held me on the shore, panicking over my lips turning blue. The way he held my hands, his warmth burrowing deep inside my bones as he wrapped around me, is similar to the way he holds me now. It’s achingly familiar.

As quickly as it came, the fire dies. Sulfur and burning flesh still fill the air.

And Aaric hasn’t let go of me.

His body cages me, his chest to my back. His breathing matching mine as I slowly rise out of the fog of fear. It lingers, but I’m more clear-headed now. And I’m now more aware of Aaric’s closeness. It’s been years since we were this close to each other, and the thought sends blistering heat up my body into my cheeks.

Now is not the time.

Aaric slowly rises, his weight lifting from me as he continues to hold my hand to help me scramble to stand next to him.

My heart swells with the idea of him protecting me, keeping me safe, but anxiety rushes over me as the smell of burning still lingers around us.

I look him up and down. “Are you hurt?”

He’s doing the same thing to me as he shakes his head. “No, I’m fine. Thank, Malek.” His hand squeezes mine, lingering before reluctantly releasing. He drops it back to his side quickly. “Are you?”

I shake my head, staring up into those concerned green eyes of his as everyone around us tries to get back into formation.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

Aaric visibly swallows before he nods and shifts to stand facing the dais. I catch sight of Violet over his shoulder, and besides her smoldering jacket, she seems okay. Her wide eyes meet mine, and she nods towards the line.

Right.

I turn away from Aaric and stand with my back straight, trying to keep still as Lyron Panchek yells from the dais to get everyone in order.

The trembling has settled now that I know I’m still breathing. In its place, guilt has settled like lead in my stomach. The gravity of what I’m doing is startlingly clear now. I could die any day at any moment. All because of my unwavering loyalty to the one man I’ve ever… I swallow that emotion down before it escalates any further.

I need to stay focused.

I would’ve been dead moments ago if it weren’t for Aaric. And because of me, he almost got hurt or worse. I can’t let that happen. Even if we’re in the one place guaranteeing we’ll die with even one misstep, I need to keep him alive.

No matter the cost.

————

(Aaric POV)

Aaric is waiting in the shadows outside of the girls’ dormitory when Y/N finally steps out. With the night cloaking him, he quickly grabs her from behind. She turns in time to throw her elbow into his stomach on instinct. Aaric drops his hands from her, holding his torso as pain racks up his ribs.

“Good shot,” he coughs.

Her eyes widen before she pushes him back into the corner he was hiding in.

“What the hell, Ca-“ she catches herself before continuing at a lower volume. “What the hell, Aaric?”

He leans against the stone, breathing deeply as he holds his stomach. “Well, I was hoping you and I could talk, but clearly you’d rather beat me up first.”

She rolls her eyes at him. “It’s your own fault for creeping around in the dark. You’re far too comfortable kidnapping me, it seems.”

Aaric can’t help the laugh that barks its way out of his mouth, causing pulses of pain from his newly bruised rib.

She visibly softens at the sound, her mouth twitching before she looks away to hide her smile. Aaric clenches his hand to resist the urge of grabbing her by the chin so he can see it.

“Well,” she leans against the opposite wall, giving each other ample space. Space Aaric really doesn’t want to give her, but he doesn’t move from his spot. “What is it? Curfew is in a few minutes.”

Aaric nods. “That won’t matter much longer because I found you a way out of here.”

She startles. “What?”

“Don’t worry, Dain will take you. He’ll escort you back home, and you can—“

In the next blink, she’s suddenly before him. Just as he steps back, hitting the wall, her hand reaches up to wrap around the collar of his leathers.

“Don’t make me slap you again,” she says slowly, menacingly. “Because I won’t hesitate.”

Aaric doesn’t doubt it. The tenderness of his cheek reminds him that she didn’t hesitate earlier.

“You listen to me, because I guess I wasn’t clear enough before,” she leans forward, her eyes blazing as she pulls him down by the collar so he’s inches from her face. “If you’re staying, I’m staying. You’re getting a dragon? I’ll get myself a damn dragon—”

“And what?!” He stops her, his voice gaining volume as the last of his patience wears thin, making him cling to desperation. “I jump, you jump, I die, you die? Is that what this is?” He shakes his head. Over his dead body would he let her die because of him. “I’m not going to let that happen, Y/N. You’re going home.”

“It’s not up to you,” she shakes her head before letting him go and stepping away as if he burned her. “You’re so concerned for me? Then stay alive. I’m not going anywhere.”

She tries to move past him to the door, but he crowds her against the wall, holding her hostage. Fury lights her eyes as she bears her teeth at him like a caged animal.

“Let me go, Cam.”

Aaric gives her a smirk as sharp as a blade. “Sorry, I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

She scoffs. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“And you’re being unnecessarily difficult.”

She glares up at him, and it’s only when the flames from a distant torch light her eyes that he softens his hold. He feels her chest brushing his, breathing heavily against him. Her skin pulses against his fingers as he holds her wrists to the wall. His thigh between hers to keep her from kicking.

This close, her scent is intoxicating, making his head swim with indecision. If this were an entirely different situation, he’d be trying to hold himself back from finally leaning down and capturing her soft lips with his—

He steps away, setting her free. Grinding his teeth, he watches her face contort from annoyance to confusion. He thanks every god he can think of for the darkness of the corridor.

“You can’t stay,” he chokes out. This plan went to hell, and now he has nothing left but to beg. “Please… Please don’t stay here.”

She tries to reclaim the space they lost by stepping forward, but he steps back. It’s better this way, or else he’ll never let her go.

“As long as you’re here, I’m staying.” Her voice is soft, calm. A part of him wishes she was yelling at him instead. It’d be easier that way.

Can’t she see how scared he is? How terrified he’s been since that deranged dragon tried to burn her to ash? He knows it’ll haunt him. He can’t live with himself if she ends up on that gods-forsaken death roll one morning.

Guilt creates a hole in his chest as she turns away, heading back to her dorm.

“Tell Dain if he’s going to take me back, I’m going down fighting. And if you ask him to do this for you ever again,” she gives him a cold, dead stare. “I’ll tell every single person who you are and find a way to ensure your father knows exactly where to find you.”

The threat stings, but he knew she’d use it. She held every card the second she stepped off the parapet. If only she knew how close he’d come to leaving when he saw tears in her eyes after the dragon’s fire.

“I can’t-“ he swallows, closing his eyes to compose himself. “I can’t watch you die.”

She doesn’t look back as she twists open the door. “Then don’t look.”