I’m also having trouble thinking of a specific scene😅 but maybe a miscommunication trope? I’m a sucker for angst resolved with fluff haha
ᴅᴇꜱᴛɪɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ | x. ʀɪᴏʀꜱᴏɴ
summary: She has been his most trusted friend for two decades. And suddenly, it was all gone.
word count: 4k
warnings: angst, miscommunication/misunderstanding, Xaden being a simp for his woman, Violet being the friend here, longing, pining for one another, basically two idiots in love, kissing, the mere allusion to smutty town (but really PG6), love confessions, fluffy ending, not entirely 100% proofread
author’s note: Gosh, I love Xaden so much. Have fun with this one <3 Dividers are by @chrisssiren
“YNN!”
No, No, No.
The woman sighed deeply at the achingly familiar voice of him, focusing back on the task of lacing her leather corset on the way to the flying field. The wing leader meeting had run overtime—gods only knew why, because no one had contributed anything substantial at all amidst the shouting and insults—and she would have definitely turned up late to formations if she had chosen to get changed in her room after one of the corset strings had decided to ruin her already stressful morning even further by tearing right in the middle of the meeting.
“Gods damn it, YNN! Hold on.”
YN would prefer to fall off her dragon’s back and crash-land on the ground after a hundred-meter fall than wait for him, only to get told even more lies and half-truths. She was done with it.
Tying the strings close and tucking them securely out of reach before closing the numerous clasps of her flight jacket, YNN didn’t even throw a glance over her shoulder when she answered: “I am late as it is, Riorson, so don’t mind me not stopping for a little chitchat to sooth your bruised ego.”
Because that’s what it was, wasn’t it? He only ever came running back to her when she turned a cold shoulder to him. She had probably chosen Aetos over Xaden again, and now he was angry, defeated, and in desperate need of her company. Yes, YN definitely had obliged in the beginning, thinking nothing of it, but then she had seen the chemistry between them, the kiss in the darkness of night, and she couldn’t do it any longer.
Not when her heart ached like hellfire at the mere thought of these two together.
But why was she even surprised? Sure, they had known each other since the day of their first wobbly steps, falling over each other, and yes, her mother had been the closest companion of his father, but why would someone like Xaden Riorson fall in love with someone like her? She was nothing like Violet Sorrengail—she wasn’t petite, she wasn’t as pretty, she didn’t have hair that mesmerizing. YN was a hell of a fighter and dragon rider; she knew that because she had been named wing leader right after her first year, she was good academically, and still, she was no Sorrengail. All she had to her name was ashes of a past she was supposed to never speak of again, scars littering her body, and a rebel relic widening its way from her shoulder down to her wrist.
Be happy with what you got, a voice in her mind whispered the moment shadowy smoke entered her periphery and wrapped itself around her lower arm, making her stop right in front of the rounded staircase.
Anger and something else made their presence known when she turned to Xaden, halting a few steps in front of her. “I don’t have a bruised ego, I just want to walk to the flight field with my best friend after she has ignored me for the past week,” the man defended himself, making the woman huff out a laugh. “Yeah, sure thing. The same best friend who you casually always forget as soon as she’s in the room, but sure, let’s run with that sorry excuse of a reason.” YN pointed at the shadow still clinging to her arm. “Do you mind? I really am late, and I can’t stand to hear another quip of dear ol’ Aetos.”
He stared down at her as if she spoke a different language. “Actually, I do mind.” With that, the shadow was exchanged for his strong hand, long fingers wrapping tightly around her arm to pull her into him. “I do mind because you are my fucking best friend and you avoid me like the fucking plague ever since…” She stared right back at him, not flinching in the slightest, like everyone else always seemed to do in the line of his cold stares. They had never intimidated her because she knew him. “Ever since what, Xaden? Spit it out and be done with it.”
YN had never told a soul about her feelings for her best friend—minus a drunken night with Sloane and Liam, but neither her baby sister nor her little brother would ever spill her longest kept secret—but had she been subtle about it? Probably not. At this point, the entire school could easily know about the lingering stares she had discreetly thrown across the training mats, or the burning stares of a slighted dragon whenever Xaden dared to show up with Violet practically hanging off his arm. She never had something against the woman in the first place—she almost seemed nice enough to like—but all that changed with that blasted kiss she had watched only because she had been in the library longer than planned.
Xaden leaned even closer, lowering his head almost to her eye level. “Ever since Violet arrived and I kissed her.” His words were quiet, but still, they ram through her like a dragon in full speed. And it made her so fucking mad that he was right.
She took a deep, steadying breath to quell the anger boiling inside her. “Go and be with her, but leave me out of it once and for all. We had a great friendship, but childish things have to die in here—that is the rule of Basgiath. Don’t come running back to me whenever it pleases you, never thinking about me and what it might do to me, how it might hurt to realize I am only of interest or a fancy toy newly found after losing it when she doesn’t want you. I am done with it, Xaden. I am so done with it. Go be happy or whatever you are with her and let me survive this death sentence of a school on my own.”
With that, she ripped her arm out of his grasp, turned on the spot, and left a stunned Xaden behind as she finally made her way down the stairs, through the walkway, and up to the flight field.
You are stronger than you might think, fiery one, her dragon spoke in her mind, reminding her of his presence and trust in her. Who needed a man when one had the largest of the reds as their bonded dragon, anyway?
Xaden watched her.
He watched her all the gods damned time.
Whenever YN entered a room, his eyes immediately had to snap to her, watching her trained and skilled form weave through the crowd of the dining hall or the courtyard, purpose and strength in her steps. She commanded respect as the youngest elected wing leader; everyone knew of her skills and sharp mind. Everyone had watched her challenges fought out on the mats, witnessed her strategic thinking in every class, and could see the lethal grace she encompassed as soon as she climbed her dragon and took off into the skies. Not to mention the way she wielded her signet—the one not presented on her uniform, considered secret for the common folk.
He had been lost years ago—lost his heart and soul to this woman who now wouldn’t even look in his direction, his presence beneath that of a mouse stealing the cheese in Basgiath. Even that mouse would gain her attention sooner than him, especially if it tried to steal one of her cheese cubes she craved whenever her monthly blood flood knocked at the doors—her words, not his.
Even now, two days after their conversation, which had left him stunned and confused, Xaden watched her dragon fly in circles in the clear blue sky before landing on the flight field after formations, YN sitting on its back with windswept hair and flushed cheeks. He watched one of her hands rest on the dragon’s red, shimmery scales as she spoke to the majestic creature—scales that easily reminded one of the ever-changing colors of a fire; garnet, scarlet, ruby, and ember shades creating something as beautiful and mesmerizing as YN Mairi was.
“This is a pathetic display, boy,” Sgaeyl mocked behind him, but he knew she watched them, too. “You do need to make a decision and stop playing foolish games.” He knew that, and yet, Xaden didn’t know how. He was bound to a promise in order to protect those he loved the most—his friends, the other rebel kids trying to survive this hellhole of a school, and… the one woman who now stared right back at him.
Despite the distance, it seemed he could almost feel the anger directed at him physically, making his stomach turn, and his muscles clench.
Where did they go wrong?
At which point did he lose her so irrevocably?
Xaden’s whirlwind of questions eased the moment he felt a presence right next to him, and he didn’t have to look to know who stood beside him. Violet had the tendency to appear at the most inconvenient of times, mostly whenever he tried to mend things with YN, even though he hadn’t been entirely sure what it was he had to mend—not until two days ago, when he finally had witnessed every single emotion floating through her eyes after he had fought through the clouds of anger and hurt. And now he knew how this might appear to his best friend.
One look back at her, and he could watch the way she climbed off Tavryn; movements filled with grace and something else, and the reckless streak continued as Xaden took a step in her direction when YN let go of the scales numerous feet above the grassy ground and landed on her boots.
“Xaden.”
Now he had to turn to Violet, but his mind screamed to walk to YN, to pull her into his arms, and make her strong-headed mind realize that he felt exactly the same as she did. (And making every soul in Basgiath see who she belonged to, finally stopping the longing and drooling stares of most men and even a handful of women within these walls. His heart and nerves would surely be thankful for that.)
“What is it, Violet?”
She looked up at him, brows drawn in. “Do you like her?” Xaden wasn’t sure if it was jealousy he heard in her voice. “She’s my best friend,” was all he said, making her scoff. “Best friends do not look at each other the way you two are.” Obviously, she was right because Violet was no foul. Neither was he—at least most of the time. He couldn’t say the same about himself whenever YN was concerned.
With a deep sigh, Xaden pushed a hand through his hair and propped a fist into his hip. “Whatever it is you want to say, Violet, say it.” When had he become so incredibly tired of everything revolving around him? When had he started to loathe the responsibilities he had taken on as one of the eldest? Had he ever liked being a leader, a protector, someone those after him could look up to and seek advice?
YN had always been better at giving counsel and advice—she had the empathy and warmth for it if she so much as pleased to show it to the world. Traits he clearly seemed to lack.
Xaden was fortunate enough to be one of the few people in the world who knew about the depth of this hidden side of his best friend.
Violet took a step closer to him, one of her hands rising and resting on his chest, right above his beating heart.
A heart that would never beat for her.
“The night of our kiss… It was a mistake, something born out of the bond that we share. I know that now. I might have known for a while. We would never work out, Xaden, not even if you would love me just a fraction of the way you love YN. We might have to stay in each others lives, but I only offer a hand in friendship. I don’t want to stand in the way of you and her because I see how miserable each of you is. I can feel it, even if you try to hide it.”
He was stunned to say the least. He never would have guessed this was what she wanted to talk to him about, not with the way they both had acted around one another in the past weeks. First, he had seriously considered growing a liking for her, but then his heart always ached whenever he looked at YN, unable to let go of her, not even after all these years loving her from afar, only ever being her best friend and nothing more.
Always having to watch on whenever she would choose another to warm her bed, all the while he desperately wanted to be the one she would choose every night, every day, every minute they spent breathing.
As Bodhi would say: He was a goner for YN Mairi.
And he would wholeheartedly agree because the longing ached so much; on some days, it was almost unbearable.
Was she feeling the same?
Was she as miserable as he was?
Would she accept him? Would she take him as he was, flaws and all?
Xaden didn’t want to admit it, but it scared him—the prospect of not being good enough for someone like YN Mairi, he so desperately loved, it almost appeared impossible. As if the gods themselves forged this love for this woman.
Perhaps they were destined for each other.
Staring down at Violet, Xaden let out a long-held breath. “Thank you.” It was a mere murmur, but it made her smile nonetheless. “Not for this, Xaden. I want you to be happy—I want myself to be happy. And I’m gladly stepping away for the sake of both of us.”
He gently squeezed her shoulder before turning and walking across the field, eating up the distance between him and the woman he loved more than life itself.
“It took you long enough, boy. Go and claim your mate,” Sgaeyl growled, making Xaden almost chuckle because he always had a suspicion that the blue daggertail secretly adored YN. Perhaps his dragon would finally cease to haunt him whenever her menacing stares fell on Tavryn and YN, always hounding him about what a perfect match these two were, how she ought to be one of the most powerful additions to Navarre and their own forces, making her stand out in the sea of rebels and revolutionists.
Xaden’s heart almost lost hope when YN turned at the sound of his closing steps, anger and something else taking over her pretty features he would one day have painted and immortalized in a portrait, hanging in the main hall of Riorson House back at home in Aretia, perhaps next to a portrait of both of them together. Slow down, Xaden, the voice of his realistic side warned him in his mind.
“Not you again,” YN huffed when he was within earshot, pulling off her leather gloves one finger at a time with precision and traitorous calm, eyes downcast on the task at hand. “Someone is waiting for you right over there, you know? You should go back and leave me the hell out of it.” Her menacing red dragon growled in warning to underline her words, making Xaden look up at the beast for a moment, calculating if he would kill him if the man dared to step closer to his rider. But he knew how crucial it was to make her finally understand, so Xaden shot every warning in his mind into the wind and down the ravine as he stepped closer when YN pushed her gloves into the belt around her hips.
The sudden closeness made her pause, and, slowly, ever so slowly, her gaze wandered up his body, halting at his shoulders for a moment before she finally stared right into his eyes, not budging even the tiniest bit.
He loved that about her. Her fierceness. Her bravery. Her undying and utterly devoted loyalty once someone had gained her trust. Her selflessness in protecting the people she loved with everything she was, if the situation required it. The depths of her emotions.
YN Mairi was one of a kind, and Xaden would be a fool to let this woman slip through his fingers because he had been stupid enough not to look deeper and allow himself to feel.
The woman in front of him huffed again at the lack of words leaving his mouth. “Great. And now you’ve grown mute or what? What is wrong with you? Don’t you understand the common tongue anymore, Riorson? Do I have to spell it out for you? Write it down? It would be my pleasure if it means to finally get rid of yo-…” Taking a step closer, Xaden growled: “You don’t know when to shut up and listen for once, woman, do you?”
And with that, and another frustrated growl, one of his hands slid into the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her silky strands, softly grabbing them and forcing her head to bend back, making her keep watching him. “I do not love her. I have never loved Violet, and do you want to know why?” He barely paused long enough to give her the chance to get another sarcastic quip in. “Because I am so desperately and irrevocably in love with this frustrating and infuriatingly headstrong woman. She is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Sarcastic, smart, brilliant. Loyal to a fault after you achieved getting into her heart because she allowed you in. But, by the gods, does she infuriate me constantly. You wanna know why?” Another too short a pause for her to barrel in, but her stunned expression told Xaden she wouldn’t have said a word either way. He leaned closer, until the tip of their noses touched ever so softly. “Because she doesn’t see me. She doesn’t see how hard I’m aching to be near her, how hard every day is knowing she wouldn’t even deign to look my way, not granting me one of her pretty smiles, not laughing at a mumbled snark, not waiting for me with an extra bread roll on her plate in the morning because she knows how much I love those. Do you know how hard that is, YNN? I can’t breathe without you near me. Life without you is constant agony, and I am done with it. I am done living in constant pain.”
He laid everything bare, and it barely scared him anymore—not when he saw realization trickle into her eyes, which didn’t dare blink. And then, a slow, small smile tugged at her lips, which he had dreamed of countless times over the years.
“Took you long enough,” YN whispered, almost teasingly, but with deep affection in her tone, he knew how to read after two decades of friendship. “Unbelievable,” he growled in return, his hand wrapped up in her silky hair, pulling her closer into him and claiming her lips with his in a bruising kiss, bordering on violence and desperation. He would have time to explore her, to get familiar with her on this new level, but right now he had to make sure she knew what he meant—what it meant being loved by him.
Her body pressed against his was pure bliss, the lovely moan escaping her utterly heart-wrenching, and her hands grabbing onto his shoulders and neck absolutely divine. They fit perfectly, like two perfectly crafted puzzle pieces, only waiting to be finally picked up and put together, forming a union stronger than anything else. They had always been a team, but now, it would be something more, something deeper—and he couldn’t wait to explore it with her.
Kissing her like a man starved and possessed, Xaden bent her neck even further, bowing at his waist to be closer to her, feet steady and standing strong to support them both, feeling YN’s hands desperately pulling at his leathers, trying to have him even closer. Oh, how he would revel in the moment the door of either of their private rooms would fall shut behind them, and he would have this woman all to himself.
Buzzing excitement and a nervous flutter zapped through his body at the mere thought of having YN Mairi standing in front of him, watching her peel all these layers away, knowing he would be the only man seeing her from now on. It stirred something ancient in him, something from long-lost times. If he weren’t trained to hold back, he would mark her like some feral beast.
Gasping for air, YN softly pushed at his shoulders before one of her soft hands found its natural spot against the sharp line of his jaw, the pad of her thumb gently caressing his warm cheek below his strong cheekbone. Xaden’s heart beat faster at the sight of her mesmerizing eyes softening while she traced his features with every gaze, watching his eyes, calculating if she could believe him.
He knew her after all.
But then, she pressed a soft kiss to one corner of his mouth, letting her lips linger there, inhaling deeply before a sigh left her body, taking all the tightness of her muscles with it. He knew then that YN believed him. He knew she let her walls down for him, desperately hoping she wouldn’t regret it. And Xaden would make sure it would never come to it.
“Did you finally understand, love? I could never be in love with Violet or anyone else for that matter, because my love was always claimed by you. There was no one else—there could never be anyone else but you. And I think, I am not the only one.”
He watched her closely but had to close his eyes when YN pulled him back to her lips, kissing him softer and without rush, savouring the sensation before her fingers wrapped around his chin, not letting his head move an inch. He wouldn’t dare to go against her wish.
“Xaden… I have loved you since the day we went into the hills around Aretia and gathered wildflowers because I wanted a flower crown for the festivities. I loved you even before that day. And that has never changed, not throughout the years, not when I was brought to some foreign estate, not knowing if or when I would see you again, and definitely not after running into you on our way up to the parapet.” She stopped, and the Riorson was quick to catch one stray tear with his thumb that dared to escape her lashes. “I am not even sure I am capable of not loving you, doesn’t matter how hard I try.”
Her grip became stronger around his chin, and fire erupted in her eyes, making him almost smirk. “But because I love you more than the air we breathe, I will not tolerate being betrayed. Do you understand me, Riorson? You will come to me and talk it through like adults if something ever happens and you try to pull back and handle it yourself. That is not how this is going to work from now on. You will come to me and I will be by your side. You will not pull away and let me guess and suffer like some silly school girl. We are past that point and I’ll beat the living hells out of you if you try something like this.” His smirk finally showed, lifting one corner of his mouth as he nodded slowly. “I mean it,” YN stressed and pulled his face closer to hers. “Don’t try to outsmart me. I know you, perhaps better than anyone else, so let me be by your side.”
Xaden felt satisfaction and pride pool in his body, and he wasn’t shy of devouring her lips again, pressing his forehead against hers, breathing the same air as she did, feeling finally complete.
“I will not betray you, love. I swear it on my life.”
And he had every intent to keep his promise until his body would be burned after either losing his last fight or falling asleep next to the woman he loved after having lived a very long and happy life with her.
Summary: Anon Request: You thought you were Garrick's world, until Xaden ordered Violet's protection and that always seemed to take priority.
A/N: Mentions of torture, violence, spoilers for FW, small OS spoiler, angst
Word Count: 9k
Waking up to the bitter scent of healing herbs and the blinding white of the infirmary is not what you expected when you had gone to bed three days ago. Eyes adjusting to the lighting, you took stock of your limbs and tested each and every one. Curling your fingers and toes, rolling your wrists and ankles, moving your head from side to side, but when you went to pick up your legs, the phantom pain came rushing back in fast and sharp.
A moan escaped your lips unbidden as you tried to push down the reminder of the two lieutenants who had used you as their personal punching bag. This wasn’t the first time you’d been interrogated for RSC, but it was definitely the worst. And you knew there was something more to it than just RSC because you had been on your own. For three days, you were held captive, beaten, bruised, and broken all for what, you didn’t know. Or at least you think it was three days, but pain and mending seem to blend together when you have nothing else to focus on.
Finally opening your eyes fully, you look to the end of the bed and expect to see a familiar pair of hazel eyes staring back at you. Instead, you are met with an empty chair.
Brows furrowing, you slowly hoist yourself to a sitting position to take a better look at the room around you. It is there and then that your heart absolutely shatters. Reality of everything slamming into you in a way that you never thought possible.
There’s no mistaking that no one had been in to see you. The area usually meant for visitors still as pristine as usual and no furniture out of place. But before you let yourself spiral, you make a promise to wait to confirm with the healers themselves.
As if answering your silent call, a light blue uniform peaks around the door and comes toward you.
“I’m glad to see you’re finally awake my dear.” A comforting smile breaks across the older woman’s face causing you to give her one in return.
“Just need to check over a few things with you and then you can be on your way.” She continues her tone sweet, but actions clinical.
Before you can decide the better of it, the words have left your mouth. “Can I ask if anyone has come to see me while I’ve been in here?”
Sadness creeps into her eyes and the look confirms your suspicion before she even speaks. You give a slight shake of your head and tilt it up to try and stop the tears that are beginning to threaten. Pools of water coat every inch of your eyelids, but you refuse to close them and let a single tear fall. Not now at least. You only let your fragile heart break into pieces and know there isn’t enough glue in the world to possibly put it back together anymore.
Before long the healer has given you a few pain tonics and confirmed you can head back to your room. You take the bag and throw your torn and bloodied flight jacket over your arm and head back towards the riders quadrant hoping you can avoid everyone.
Zinhal however decides that isn’t to be your luck. As you turn onto the landing for the second-year floor, the last person you wanted to see is standing right in front of you. A smile on his face has his dimple popping as he looks at you after pausing his conversation with Bodhi.
Emotions swirl and you’re unsure if you want to punch him in the face or rip out his heart, just like he just did to yours. The hurt settling into your heart and dragging it to the pit of your stomach like a heavy weight.
Taking a deep breath as every piece of your shattered heart jostles against your chest, you look straight forward showing no emotion and head straight to your door.
Before you can make it all the way to your room, the mountain of muscle that usually had your heart racing stands in front of you. Your eyes slowly rise and look back at the man who was your entire world. The dimpled smile still plastered on his face, he steps forward to take your hand and you immediately step back and avert your gaze.
“Hey.” He has the audacity to put his hand under your chin, coaxing you to look up at him. “I’ve been looking for you.”
At those words you let out a sardonic scoff. Clearly the cretin in front of you has no idea what he just said and everything you just experienced.
“Where have you been over the last few days?” Your voice is dry and void of emotion, but you still need the answer.
He looks at you and furrows his brows before responding. “You know I was helping Xaden with the blades and saddle for Sorrengail. I’ve been in the forge with him.”
“Ah.” It’s the only thing you have to say to the man in front of you. Pulling your face from his hand, you sidestep him and begin walking to your room.
Without turning around, you call out to make sure he won’t follow you. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed early. I’ll see you later.”
As soon as the words are out of your mouth, you shut your door behind you and lock it. Without hesitation, you pull out your book on wards and immediately start reweaving the ones you have. You pull every ounce of control you have left to change your wards to only allow yourself through your door. There is no doubt in your mind that Garrick will have a shock when he tries to come in, but at this point, you don’t care. Bitterness settles into your heart crawling like vines between your ribs with deep roots weaving between every bone.
Setting the last piece of power in place, you let yourself break. Sliding to your knees, every possible sound is drowned out by the sounds of your sobs. You let your head hit the floor as you break apart. Your body unable to even hold itself up. Tears streaming in a torrent down your face and your breathing turning rapid and irregular. You try, but it’s impossible to control the shaking of your body with the violent sobs racking your heart.
It isn’t until you wake the next morning that you realized you never even made it to your bed and sobbed on the floor until the exhaustion tore you apart. Rising, you go to the mirror and look back at the girl staring at you in the reflection.
The eyes that greet you are puffy and bloodshot, but there is a vacant look where there used to be a spark of life. There is no brightness to the color of your skin, every ounce of sunlight seemingly bleached from your complexion. Purple bruises look as if they are indented under your eyes. The color of your irises once so vivid now muted and dull, empty and haunted.
Closing them, you breathe in the heartbreak that has filled every pore of your skin. The breath feeling like its traveling through the broken glass of your lungs, sharp and unrelentingly painful. You know there is no way you can show the devastation you’re feeling, not in this quadrant, and not to all the people who told you that you were just another conquest. With a heaving sigh, you head to the bathing chamber and pray to the gods that you can wash away the grief as best you can and put on the face of a warrior.
Though as the water begins to heat your cold skin, you feel the warm tide of anger rise with it. A fury buried deep beneath your heart begins to consume everything. Thoughts you had buried for so long burrowing deep in your very core. You finish dressing and immediately make your way back to your room and dress for the day, every movement sharp and harried.
Putting on your tight-fitting training leathers, you tie your hair up close to your head and pin it in place. There’s no mistaking the blaze that has taken over your eyes a vibrant fire dancing in the previously muted color, dismissing the vacant look from before. Without waiting any longer, you tear your door open and begin the slog to the training room.
Your footsteps are heavy, thudding loudly against the stone floor as you march yourself towards the nearest punching bag. Each step is another strike of anger taking a bite out of your already tattered heart. The fire of your anger laid thick into the stones of the fortress.
“Feisty and wallowing today, are we?” The snarky question comes from the last female you wanted to see.
You don’t give her the satisfaction of a response as you continue pushing past her down the corridor. At least you didn’t think you would, until you find yourself turning around and looking at her with Bodhi now next to her.
“He’s all yours Cardulo. I’m done with all of you.” Your voice drips venom, though if either one of them knew you well enough, they would hear the betrayal and sadness seeping through every syllable.
Not taking another second to register what she could possibly reply, you immediately keep walking. Making your way into the gym, you quickly take up a spot at the nearest punching bag. Not bothering with wraps, you swing with every ounce of emotion you can possibly displace. White hot pain splits up your knuckles, but you relish in it as it replaces the agony tied around your heart.
Unsure of how long you’ve stood there delivering punches to the bag with all the force you can muster, you are startled when a large shadow appears behind you.
“What did that punching bag do to you?” There’s no mistaking the tease in his voice and it only fuels the fire within you.
“Fuck off, Tavis.” You spit to the man that is hovering over your shoulder.
As you go to throw another wild punch, your eyes fly up when your fist is intercepted by the aggravating man’s large hand.
“What’s gotten into you?” Garrick questions and his audacity to ask has you pulling back you hand as quickly as you can.
“It’s none of your business. In fact, I’m no longer your business. Why don’t you go back to protecting your duke and precious charge and leave me the hell alone.” The rancor in your tone is obvious as you immediately twist away and head to the door.
Before you can push it open, a gust of wind pushes you against the wall, taking the breath from your lungs. Looking up, hazel eyes are staring down at you mixed between disbelief and anger.
“You aren’t just going to say that and walk away. Tell me what the fuck is going on.” You can’t help the sarcastic laugh that falls from your lips.
“No.” Every bit of defiance is burning in your limbs, and you refuse to say anything more to the man who can’t seem to spare a minute of his day for you. Garrick stands there his eyes searching yours, though you know there is nothing but anger and emptiness behind your gaze. Your lungs begin burning as the fury rushes through your body.
His hand comes up to your face as if he wants to comfort you and you instantly slap it away. Garrick’s eyes flare at the action and you feel a slight satisfaction in the way the gold in his eyes seems to turn to worry. There isn’t any reason to worry though, not anymore, you think to yourself as you boldly stare back at him.
“What happened?” Garrick’s tone has softened as he’s realized that there’s more to your actions than just simple aggravation.
“If you have to ask, then you aren’t paying attention.” You snap; your tone refuses to soften after how many times this man has left you wondering your importance.
“Please tell me. I can’t fix anything if I don’t know where I went wrong.” The pleading in his voice tries to crack through the hurt that’s been living in your mind for months, but it just isn’t enough anymore.
“At this point, there isn’t anything to fix. You have your priorities and I’m not one of them. So, think of this as a boon. You now have more time to focus on your more important duties, Section Leader.” The sharpness of your voice cuts like a blade as you lay the final strike to your relationship.
You watch as his gaze cracks, the hard exterior he always wears fractures and shows you the broken man he is becoming at your words. Part of your heart wants to reach out and comfort him, but the harder part of you, tired of being left behind wins.
Taking advantage of his shock at your words, you quickly leave the gym, leaving the man that you used to think was your everything behind. The future that you had deigned to let run through your mind nothing but tattered shreds of a painting that was never allowed to form.
A few days later, you open your door, and your breath catches as you see Garrick’s frame standing outside, hands braced on either side of the threshold and a wild look behind his eyes.
“What do you want Tavis?” Your impatience is on full display as you take in the mussed look of the man in front of you, the complete reverse of his usual calm and poised demeanor. His curls are wilder than normal, showing how many times he’s run his hands through them and there is no mistaking the pallor of his skin and sunken state of his eyes.
“Why can’t I get into your room anymore?” He breathes as if it is the most urgent question he has.
“Simple.” You reply, your tone remaining cool and detached. “We aren’t together any longer, so there is no need for you to have access to my room.”
His hand moves to reach for you, but he immediately recoils at the wards that encase your door.
“Let me in, please.” The pleading in his voice and eyes would’ve cracked your resolve once, but now it just steels your heart. Though it’s impossible to completely dismiss the sweep of your stomach.
“No. You lost that privilege.” You refuse to let him claw his way back in, tired of always feeling second best. “Why don’t you go crawl back to Xaden, maybe he’ll let you in with him and Violet, because I’m done.”
As if caught off guard, he backs up a step leaving enough room for you to stride out and begin down the corridor.
“Wait.” His hand wraps around your wrist as you finally make your way out to the courtyard. “What is that supposed to mean?”
You scoff at his question but turn around and look him in the eyes with every ounce of disappointment you’ve ever felt.
“Did you know I was in the infirmary a week ago?” You watch as his eyes blow wide at the revelation, but all it does is fuel your rage.
“Precisely. Do you know why I was there? Oh, that’s right, you didn’t even know I was there so why would you know the reason?” You continue as you stalk towards the man. Even though he towers over you, the shadow of your bitterness is taller than any height he has on you.
“Are you alright?” He has the audacity to blurt as he looks your body up and down looking for injuries. The laugh that barrels out of you is nothing but cynical.
"Obviously.” You sneer. “No thanks to the man that supposedly loves me.” You don’t miss the way he flinches at your words.
Another sarcastic huff leaves you as you continue. “I was tortured by two lieutenants – alone - for three days, and in the infirmary for an entire day after that. But did the man that claims I’m his whole world show up?”
“No!” The roar that leaves you is louder than you expected, but your anger has exploded, and you can no longer keep it contained. Continuing to stalk into his space, you jab your finger into his hard chest.
“And I can see by the look on your face you didn’t even know.” Your bitterness is on full display now. “I always knew your allegiance was to Riorson and now by extension, Sorrengail. But I never thought it would be at the cost of even knowing I was fucking missing.”
“So, yes, this is the end of our road Garrick. Feel free to sow your fucking oats with anyone in the stables of Basgiath. I’m done. Finished. I refuse to be put last in the list of priorities for the man who claims that I’m his whole world.”
“I didn’t know.” The words leave his lips in the barest whisper as his stunned silence continues.
“How would you when you’re constantly following Xaden like his loyal pet? And now Violet. Sure, every single marked one has her on their radar, but at what fucking cost? When do any of you get to have your own lives?” The control on your words has completely left you as you continue to barrage the man in front of you with every ounce of bitterness in your heart. “I understand you owe him everything, but is it at the expense of having a life yourself? At what point do you get to make someone else your world? When do you get to live for yourself?”
You’ve never seen the man in front of you speechless, but it seems like you have rendered his tongue from his mouth at his continued silence. You shake your head as you begin to step back from him.
“Maybe this will help you in the long run, but no one is going to stay when they constantly must play second fiddle, even though a man claims you’re everything to him. Perhaps in another life we could’ve been happy, but I’m tired of always being your last priority.”
With that you let your feet carry you away from the man that you thought was your forever. You head to the flight field and only hope that you can outfly your own emotions.
Weeks pass and you don’t miss the glances that Garrick is always throwing your way. You have done your best to put distance between the both of you and being in a different wing, it works, for the most part. Every time your name is called to the mat, you don’t miss the way Garrick steps up and watches your every move.
In one particularly brutal match, you don’t miss the way that he goes to step in when you take a brutal punch to face. With blood spilling from a cut to your cheekbone, you turn away and stand on the other side of the mat an empty look on your face.
Trying to get in and out of battle brief without getting trapped by him becomes almost impossible. It’s as if he has become a sentinel at the door and refuses to move until you go in and out. On one particular day, the short fuse on your temper has been tested all day and it takes every ounce of control you possess not to rip into him as you try to get into the class. The minute it’s over, you are the first one out the door before Garrick can even blink.
The rawness of the day has taken every ounce of your control, so you find yourself walking out to the river in a bid to find a least a little slice of solace in this tumult of a life you’ve found yourself in. Sitting in the tall grass near the bank of the Iakabos, your head falls back on one of the stones and your eyes close relishing in the warmth of the sun on your face.
You let your mind wander as you try to let the warm glow of the setting sun and calming flow of the water become the only sounds and feelings left.
Unfortunately, it’s short-lived when you hear heavy footfalls behind you. Turning, your senses rise when you can’t see anyone behind you, but there is no mistaking the way the hairs on the back of your neck begin to stand at attention.
“I know you’re there.” You call out to the copse of trees behind you, heartbeat erratic at what you aren’t sure is a threat or not.
In the next few seconds, your fear turns into annoyance as you register the person who has broken your solitude.
“I’m not interested in company, Durran. Least of all from any of Garrick’s loyalists.” You snap in irritation, turning back to face the river.
Bodhi continues his trek undeterred by your words, if the sounds of his footfalls are any indication. Aggravation begins to peak as Bodhi stops next to you and joins you to sit on the forest floor. You let out a heavy sigh, laden with annoyance before turning your head to look at the man sitting next to you.
Silence stretches as you turn your head back towards the river and watch as the sun makes its final arc before setting.
“Why are you here?” There’s no way to hide the exasperation in your voice, tired of feeling like the one that always has to back down from your own anger.
Bodhi slowly turns his face to you, as if he’s just registering your presence for the first time. But it’s the sad smile on his lips that has your own expression faltering.
“I think you know why I’m here.” Bodhi finally pipes up, though his voice is subdued. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Garrick fall apart like this.”
His tone does nothing to quell the nerves that have seemed to bundle in your stomach, though you narrow your eyes in suspicion.
“Garrick is a big boy. I’m sure he’ll be just fine. He just needs to find an open bed and he’ll be right as rain.” Your anger flaring at the possibility of this conversation.
Bodhi hums in acknowledgement of what you’ve said, though his entire posture remains in an unusual state of sadness.
“You’ve inserted yourself into a family of sorts, you know.” He continues, now glancing out towards the river, his composure turned thoughtful. “After the apostasy, we became brothers. The group of us clinging to each other to hold on to a sense of normalcy.”
“Though, Xaden took most of the burden. Which in turn, I suppose you could say, made him our de facto leader, not that he wasn’t before that.” Bodhi’s head falls slightly and begins to shake. “We’ve always let him deliver the orders. Let Xaden command us – but something you said to Garrick must’ve hit him hard.”
“He came to me the day after he tried to get into your room and failed.” He continues matter-of-factly. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Garrick so worked up. Sure, he teases and ruffles people’s feathers, but I don’t think he’s ever had someone put him in his place so well. Never had someone to put things into perspective.”
You turn and look at Bodhi again, contemplation taking over your own features. “I like to think I’ve been patient. That I’ve been understanding, because I know about everything that has happened to your families. But I refuse to be the last priority for someone that claims to love me.”
At this point Bodhi turns and looks at you, the sad smile gracing his features again. “I know. And so does Garrick. You see the issue is not that you’re wrong. Because gods, even Garrick knows that you’re more than right. It’s really that this is the first time any one of us in Xaden’s circle has ever had to confront it.”
A dry chuckle leaves his lips. “I’m sure you’re aware that Xaden’s close circle isn’t known for their stellar relationship skills.”
You can’t help the sardonic huff that leaves you at the comment.
“So that means you’ll also realize that you were the first one to push through the ranks and become the first outsider in our mismatched family.” Bodhi leans in and gives you a knock into your shoulder. “The first one to really stay that is.”
“I’m not sure your fearless leader would agree with that.” You murmur with a raised brow.
Bodhi’s nose scrunches, trying not to show feelings about his cousin. “He’s not exactly the person you should gauge that from.”
You scoff again and Bodhi gives you a knowing smile of his own.
“But before you, there wasn’t anyone that any of us needed to prioritize outside of our own circle. Hell, most of the time we don’t even prioritize our own selves if there is something that Xaden demands.” You hum in acknowledgment knowing that you’ve seen that yourself.
“And you know Garrick, loyal to a fault. If someone asks, he’s there, possibly eating you out of house and home, but always there.” You both snicker at the mention of Garrick’s insatiable appetite.
“Knowing that, you should know how torn up he is. Not only did he fail to know you were missing and hurt, but he let you fall through the cracks. Honestly – he’s probably pacing in his room right now beating himself over all the cracks that he created himself.” Bodhi continues, your chin drops to your upturned knees, and you let yourself rest on them.
“I needed more than words.” You murmur quietly, tired of holding back everything. “I wanted him to show up for me. To show that I wasn’t last on his list for the day.”
“You’re right.” Bodhi agrees as he begins to stand. “It’s up to you if you are willing to listen to him or give him a chance at all to explain. But I wanted you to know that prioritization of our partners is something we will all need to learn, maybe even the hard way of losing the one we love. Though at the end of the day, we’re going to war, and no one knows if they are going to come home the next day – even Xaden needs to realize that.”
“And yes, Xaden is important to a lot of us, and we love him and the Sorrengail situation has added complications on top of everything. However, we can’t continue to exist on only protecting him and his interests over every relationship in our own lives.” Bodhi reaches his hand out and you bring yours up, allowing him to pull you to your feet as well. “If we stand any chance at happiness, we need to stand our ground for our own partners too.”
“So even if you never reconcile with Garrick, thank you. Thank you for saying what needed to be said, for vocalizing something we all need to realize.” With that Bodhi begins to walk back to the citadel.
You begin to follow after him, but let yourself linger, taking the time to try and absorb every single word.
‘Perhaps the cousin should be the leader. He seems to understand you humans better.’ You let out a snort at Stòlda’s comment.
‘Bodhi does seem to have a level head on his shoulders. At least he seems to realize that people have feelings.’ You comment though not really focusing on the conversation with your dragon.
As you get closer and closer to the citadel, you can’t help but feel the loom of the fortress settle in your bones. As tired as you have been since your latest torture session, you haven’t been sleeping well, phantom pains and hands keeping your mind running at night.
Arriving at the second-year floor, you take a heaving breath, the tiredness of the day beginning to settle into your bones. For some reason though your feet begin to feel even more sluggish than before, every step taking an immense amount of concentration and physical strength.
‘Something isn’t right.’ You send down your bond with Stòlda, but everything about your connenction with her seems fuzzy.
Before you can take one more step your world goes black and muffled voices ring through your mind, but you can’t make out a single one.
__________
Waking up to an uncomfortable pull between your shoulders, you try to bring your arms forward but as you tug, the rough pinch of rope jerks at the skin of your wrist. Letting out a hiss of pain, you open your eyes and all you find is a room of roughhewn stone in front of you.
Scanning the room, the only light emanating in is from a small window that is halfway to the only door. Confusion is the only thing that registers, aside from the pain between your shoulders and the rub of the rope on your skin.
Distant sounds of roars and the clash of metal has your head spinning, eyes darting left and right, though there is nothing for you to see being strapped to the chair you are in. Suddenly you register the loud pound of boots outside the door and your eyes focus, waiting for whatever danger is lurking.
A reverberating kick to the door has it splintering and you close your eyes to the onslaught of wooden shards.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” An all too familiar and cruel voice drawls from in front of you.
Drawing your gaze forward, there’s no way to hide your sneer of disgust. Your head rises as the menacing figure drawing forward, but you don’t back down from holding your head proudly.
“I never thought we’d have the marked one’s whore for a target.” The masculine voice continues to sneer as he comes face to face with you. There’s no mistaking the disdainful visage in front of you, not since you’ve spent more than enough time trying to rid yourself of him.
Kol. Second Wing’s resident menace that has caused more than his fair share of deaths in the quadrant. A bully who came to the quadrant for gore and power, not the ability to help anyone.
“I never thought I’d be subjected to your disgusting face, but here we are.” The words barely leave your mouth before the burning sting of a hand bursts across your face, head thrown to the side from the impact.
The coppery tang of blood coats your tongue and you gather everything you can and spit it directly in his face. His eyes flash and you pull on your restraints again trying to stop him as you register his fist coming up to punch you in the face. Unfortunately, the bindings have no give and the only thing you can do is take the blow. A strike of pain, hot as a branding iron flashes over your eye socket causing a moan to escape as your vision begins to blur.
“Not so tough now when your personal guard isn’t around, are you?” Kol mocks as he begins circling the chair you’re tethered in.
Even with your right eye swelling fully shut, you stare at him through blurry vision not willing to back down.
“Must be tougher than you since you had to wait until I was tied up to attack.” You taunt, though clearly that was the opposite of what you should have done.
Rage burning in his eyes, Kol unsheathes the dagger at his waist, and you rear back as he drags the tip down your arm. A muffled cry climbs your throat, but you refuse to open your mouth and let the sounds become any louder.
“I’m going to have a wonderful time breaking you, inch by inch. You’ll be begging me to stop before I’m finished with you.” Your eyes flash at Kol’s sadistic words, but you refuse to back down and succumb to his incessant taunts.
Concerning quiet has suddenly settled over the room you’re in and it brings Kol’s focus back to the door he had come through. Brows furrowing, you try to place if you did hear another pair of boots or if it was just the ringing in your ears.
“Now where were we?” Kol jeers as he slowly draws the dagger across your face. “Ah, yes, I believe we were just about to get started.” The vicious gleam in his eye has your fear ratcheting, but you refuse to let it show.
“And I believe you’re about to die.” The voice breaks through the quiet so low and menacing you feel like you may have dreamt it.
Turning your head from Kol, you squint with your good eye trying to make out the figure in the doorway, but all you can register is the man’s tall frame.
The sinister smirk that graces Kol’s face makes you realize it could only possibly be one person.
Garrick strides forward and the glint of sunlight catches on his sword as he holds it out in front of him. You try to get a clearer picture, but no matter what you try, your vision remains blurred. A jolt of panic rises through you as the familiar clink of blades meeting makes your pulse begin to race.
Here you are, tied to a chair with no access to your power or dragon, so you’ll be absolutely nothing but a liability.
“No, Garrick! Just go. You don’t need to worry about me any longer.” A male grunt registers, but the clash of steel still sings through the air.
There’s no response from either man as you hear the continued grunts of a fight and clang of metal. Though your worry grows when you hear a groan of pain and the unmistakable tear of flesh.
“Garrick!” You heave, trying to control the panic rising, continuing to pull on your restraints. “Are you alright?”
Another grunt is heard before the decisive thump of a body hitting the floor is heard. Your heart beating erratically and your breathing shallow, you continue to pull on your restraints even through the burning pain that has rubbed your skin raw.
Booted footsteps sound and your shallow breathing continues as you can only pray that Garrick is the one approaching you and not Kol. A slight whimper leaves your lips as familiar fingers trace your jawline and come to rest on your chin.
Without removing his hand, your wrists are freed and your shoulders sag at the sudden relief. Before you can take stock of the rest of your body, you feel yourself being picked up and cradled into a strong chest.
“You don’t have to carry me. I can take care of myself.” You retort, but there’s no bite to the words. They fall short of their aimed target.
“I am more-than-aware that you can take care of yourself.” Garrick replies with a softness in his voice you’ve never heard before. “But no matter where we stand, I will always want to take care of you. Even if my previous actions may contradict that statement.”
You don’t reply to his words, unsure in the moment of what to say, so you let you let your words drift to safer ground.
“How did you know I was here? How did you find me?” The words come out quieter than you expected.
Garrick takes a considering pause before replying, a soft huff leaving his lips. “If you think after the last month that I don’t know where you are at every moment of every day, you’re fooling yourself.”
A sardonic scoff leaves your mouth at this words, but you won’t deny that the conviction in his tone doesn’t have you intrigued.
“Seems silly to keep tabs on someone that you aren’t with any longer.” Your lips thin as the words slip out before you can stop them.
Your body slightly jostles as Garrick comes to a stop. “I know you may not believe me. Honestly, after everything, I wouldn’t expect you to, but you haven’t stopped being the singular most important person in my life.”
You try to focus on Garrick’s face as he keeps speaking, but your vision still refuses to clear. “This isn’t the time to have the whole conversation that I want to have with you. But I need you to know that if you will let me prove to you that you are my priority, I will not let you regret it.”
Without waiting for your reply, Garrick begins walking again and soon the warmth of the sun greets you. The swift kick of the wind licks at your face, as well as the sounds of wing beats. It’s the sudden realization of everything going on around you that causes you to gasp.
“I can’t feel Stòlda.” You murmur to Garrick, unsure of if anyone else is around.
“What do you mean you can’t feel her?” Garrick questions with clear worry in his voice.
“Exactly that. I woke up tied to that chair and unable to feel our bond.” Garrick’s grip tightens on you as you hear the distinct sound of wings getting closer and closer.
“Let’s get you to the healers as soon as possible and I’ll find out what’s going on.” Garrick confirms, clearly beginning to mount Chradh.
“Are you sure Chradh is alright with you carrying me?” You can’t help but question, trying to pull out of his grip.
“Of course he is. He knows how much you mean to me. And besides, Stòlda ordered him to bring you to safety.” As he finishes, Garrick carefully plants you in the seat on Chradh’s back in front of him.
Wrapping his arms tightly around you, he grips the pommel in front of you, not letting you jostle in any way. You close your eyes at the onslaught of the wind against your battered face, turning your head as far into Garrick’s shoulder as you possibly can to conceal yourself, to push away the sharp sting of the wind. You try not to breathe in the familiar scent of the man that has you wrapped in his arms, but its impossible to ignore the scent of leather, steel, and something distinctly him, a comforting presence that you loathe to have to give up again. Involuntarily, you take a deep breath, inhaling him and the strength that he radiates, every inch of him a balm to your frayed nerves.
Even though every movement he makes is completely controlled, there is no way to mistake the rapid heartbeat thumping through your ears. You don’t let yourself get wrapped up in the thought, because its most likely just from the adrenaline from the fight. Soon enough, you feel the pull of Chradh’s wings as he begins to slow and land.
Garrick unwraps his arms and you go to begin to lever yourself off of Chradh, but before you move two steps, you feel the way the brown dragon begins to shift even further to the ground. Unsure whether to move or not, you stand still until Garrick’s caloused hand is gently guiding your arm down.
Vision still blurry, its impossible to truly make sense of the people standing around you, but the next voice you hear is unmistakeable.
“Tavis, take the egg. I need to check on Sorrengail.” Xaden’s voice booms over the chaos that is breaking out around you, his strides towards Garrick carrying a weight that you never miss.
“No.” Garrick’s voice carries an edge of steel, firm and unyeilding, something that you’ve never heard before, especially not directed at Xaden, his best friend and superior officer. “Get Graves or Scharf to deal with it.”
There’s no missing the look of venom Xaden sends Garrick’s way, even with your terrible vision. “I said take the egg, that’s an order from your Wingleader.” Xaden’s voice hardens, an edge that dares Garrick to defy him. The air between them turns charged, the tension building like a storm cloud.
Not wanting Garrick to be punished or let this get out of hand, you start to maneuver your legs out of Garrick’s hold, but instead of letting you down, he only holds tighter.
“Stay right where you are.” Garrick directs at you, tone gentle, though his focus never leaves the glaring Wingleader.
“She’s more important than that damn egg.” Garrick continues, his tone never losing the steel, the tone of immovablility. “And this time my priorities will be clear. Sorrengail is your responsibility, as Y/N is mine. I’ve come to heel regarding Sorrengail too many times at her expense. I won’t do it anymore.”
Without waiting on Xaden’s response, Garrick’s steps continue towards the fortress, controlled and measured. Each click of his boots a smattering of both pressure and relief.
“You don’t need to worry about me, Garrick. I can get someone else to take me to the healers.” Your tone is quiet, tired, beaten down. The adrenaline and energy from the battle beginning to drain from your body.
Looking up to Garrick’s face, you can see the muscle in his jaw feather as his footsteps begin to slow. Your arms drop from around his neck as you try to move away from him, but before you even have an inch between you, Garrick’s grip tightens again. His hands keeping you firmly tethered to his side, his eyes coming down to stare into your own.
“You aren’t getting anyone else to take you. You aren’t leaving my side. And I don’t give a fucking shit if Xaden never talks to me again.” His feet begin moving again and before you have the chance to reply, the familiar scent of the Healer’s Ward comes floating through the air.
Garrick walks confidently to the nearest open cot, before he steps away to beckon the nearest healer.
“Oh my dear.” A sweet female voice floats through the air. “I didn’t expect to see you in here again so soon. Though I’m glad there’s someone with you this time.”
You give her the semblence of a tired smile, but there’s no warmth there. Nothing happy fills you as you wait to hear the retreating footsteps of Garrick’s boots.
She stands in front of you checking you from head to toe, taking time to put a salve on your swollen eye. “I’m going to get Nolon and see if he can assist with taking away some of the inflamation so you can at least see out of one eye.”
“Before you leave, can you also ask if there’s something that was given to me before war games?” Your tone comes out pleading, the silence in your mind between you and your dragon weighing on you. “For some reason I’m unsure of, my bond is gone. Or it feels like it has been severed somehow.”
The healer looks back at you, a look that says she knows exactly what you speak of and that she doesn’t agree with it one bit.
“I’ll get everything you need while I find Nolon. We’ll get some of your vision back in order and you’ll have your dragon back in no time.” She says with a confidence you don’t feel.
Shaking your head in acknowledgment, you let your head fall back to the pillow behind you, eyes closed to keep away the blur of your vision. Taking a deep breath, you try to keep the emotions roiling inside at bay. There’s no reason to cry, or to rage, you know that it won’t fix anything in your failed relationship.
The quiet of the ward greets your ears and you try to breathe through the hazy thoughts of the day, but warmth gliding over your hand has your eyes popping open.
Mouth widening slightly, you look up to see the blurry figure of Garrick standing over you, his fingers intertwined with yours, stroking the back of your knuckles.
“You – you can go.” You confirm, your voice small, even to your own ears. “I’m sure you have more important things to tend to.”
The stroking on your knuckles comes to a quick halt and you close your eyes, not wanting to watch Garrick turn his back on you again. But your eyes open again when you feel the bed next to you dip and a warm, calloused hand cup your cheek.
“I’m not going anywhere.” Garrick’s voice is quiet, subdued in a way you’ve never heard before. “I heard everything you said. And I saw everything you didn’t.”
He starts, but stops in a way that indicates he’s unsure on how to continue.
“I failed.” He exhales. “Failed you spectacularly in every single way I could.” He shakes his head as if unbelieving of his own actions. The movement causing your throat to catch, unsure of where this conversation is headed.
“I took advantage of the fact that you’ve always been able to take care of yourself. Always been strong, even before you were mine.” He scoffs, irritated with himself. “But I took your strength for granted. Made it mean that you didn’t need me, not really. Not in the way that mattered.”
“I chose to make our relationship secondary. To let you bleed to the back of my life, when in my mind you were always the front.” Garrick’s thumb begins to stroke your cheek as his voice becomes reflective. “In the end though, my actions spoke far louder than any of my words. I told you that you were my world, and you still are. Always will be. But I never treated you that way. I never put you before what I considered my duty.”
Rising from the bed, Garrick begins pacing, as though the words can only come if he keeps moving, if he keeps himself in the reflective moment he seems to be caught up in.
“I’ve always followed Xaden. Always been his right hand. Just like my dad was Fen’s. But never once did I ever stop and really look to see what that meant. How the rest of the people in my life fit into that dynamic. Never had to.” He pauses, eyes coming back to find yours.
“That was until you came around.” He says coming back towards you. “Not until you made me begin to question things. Question what I was trying to prove, why I was always the one following orders, not giving some of my own. I let my own life fade into unimportance, everything that wasn’t detrimental to the mission quickly forgotten.”
“You taught me that. The way you left me standing in the courtyard, devastated that the one piece of my life that truly mattered slipped through my fingers at my own doing.” The way his eyes glaze begins to pull at the ropes tied tightly around your heart. “Every single moment of happiness that I’ve experienced with you drowned out by the realization that I tore everything apart. The weight on my chest from not knowing you were hurt, not knowing that I could’ve lost you and I would’ve been none the wiser. I’ll never forgive myself.”
Its then that the healer comes strolling back in, causing Garrick to step back away from your cot.
“Sorry to disturb.” An aged male voice greets as you see Nolon walk into the room behind the healer. “But I’m sure you’ll both be glad to get back to the rider’s quadrant quickly after this. After all, I believe there will be raucous celebrations tonight.”
You give him a tight smile as he stops when he’s flush with your cot. “I’ll be able to calm some of the inflammation, but the bruising will still be there for some time. But before we begin, go ahead and take this.” Nolon finishes as he brings a small vial forward with a clear liquid.
You nod your head in understanding and take the vial from him. Knocking the liquid back, you swallow and lay your head back down and he raises his hands to your face. The power of mending begins to pass through your body and there’s no way to stop your body from tensing through the pain. Your jaw clenched, your hands fall to the sheets below you, and you grip them with white knuckles.
The feeling of a large palm covering your hand has you releasing its tight grip, but soon regaining it intertwined in Garrick’s hand. You try not to squeeze too hard, but as the zip of mending continues the pulsing pain around your eye, you can’t help the whimper of pain. Though instead of your hand tightening further in Garrick’s, his curls around yours harder as if trying to take the pain for himself.
A few more minutes tick by before the magic around your face begins to fade and you are able to open your unaffected eye with clear vision. As you blink the sting of tears away, you are finally able to see Garrick clearly and you can’t help the way your breath catches at the sight.
Gone is the stoic leader who exudes power and strength, in his place is a man that looks wrecked from sleepless nights and personal torment. It’s impossible for you not to reach for him, your hand that he still has in his pulling him forward. Your other hand rises as he shifts to his knees next to your cot and goes to his face, cupping and stroking his stubbled cheek. Garrick surprises you by leaning into your touch, his eyes closing at the tenderness you’ve given him.
Your vision narrows to the sorrowful man in front of you, your eyes unable to move from his dim ones. Eyes that normally shone a bright gold and flecked with greens as deep as emeralds. The color has now dimmed to a dull honey, every single speck darkened to almost black.
“How did we get here?” You voice comes out as a rasp, a sound unlike your normally smooth tone.
Garrick’s eyes close as if overcome with emotion from your question.
“Letting anyone or anything come before you will always be my greatest regret. I just hope that someday, somehow you will be able to let me atone for every way I’ve failed you. Failed us.” The spark of hopefulness in his words put a sad smile on your face.
Garrick continues to burrow his face in your hand, a man starved for the only touch he’s been craving.
“What about Xaden and Sorrengail?” You ask, the question the thing that keeps you from willingly folding into the arms of the man in front of you.
“I’ll always try to protect them both, but I refuse to do it again at the expense of you. As I told Xaden, you are my responsibility. The only person I want to take care of.” He exhales the breath he seemed to be holding. “Never again will you feel like you aren’t my priority. Never again will you think you are less than the most important person in my life.”
Your hand snakes around the back of Garrick’s neck and you pull his face to yours, resting your foreheads together.
“Then take me back to my room, Section Leader.” There’s no mistaking the way Garrick tenses in your arms, his entire body ready for a blow that you know will never come. You can feel the way the wind whooshes out of him, an exhale believing that you are completely lost to him.
Garrick slowly nods and begins to stand. He holds his hand out and helps you rise from the cot. Wincing as the pull of the mending tugs at you, but you hold steady on your feet.
The silence between you grows thicker and thicker as you both continue back to the riders quadrant. Garrick’s footsteps click, though you can hear the hesitation in even those. As you ascend the stairs, his hand tightens on yours, the last seeming vestibule of your relationship that he is trying in every way not to lose.
Entering the landing of the second-year floor, you trudge to your door, pulling along a hesitant Garrick. You let your hand turn, the click of your lock unmistakable and Garrick pulls in a shaky breath behind you. A small smile gracing your lips, you pull him forward, his brows pulling in with confusion.
“I’m giving you a chance.” You state with conviction, turning as Garrick continues to grip your hand as a vice. “One chance. Prove yourself. Prove that you will put our relationship and yourself before the weight of the rest of the world, because at the end of the day, the world will only crush you if you let it.”
Before you have time to blink, your breath leaves your lungs as you are tugged against a hard chest. Garrick’s arms encircling your waist in a punishing grip, his face buried into the top of your hair.
“I will spend every day proving that you are my priority. You are my one love, my partner and the singular person I will drop anything and everything for.” The words rush out of Garrick, the singular conviction in his tone obvious.
Backing up one step, you are caught off guard again when Garrick’s lips slam into yours. The kiss claiming in a way that you’ve never experienced before. The desperation, hope, and utter happiness leaching through every movement of his lips on yours.
He lifts you up by your thighs and your legs instinctually wrap around his waist, his strong arms balancing your weight with ease. A smile breaks out over your lips and as you part, you don’t miss the dimple, that is your undoing, making an appearance.
Your hands stroke his cheeks as you watch the light slowly climb back into his eyes, the tension seeming to melt from every pore. Smiling back at each other, you refuse to focus on anything but the hope that has settled in your bones.
Hope for Garrick’s commitment. Hope for peace. Hope for your future. And finally, the hope that you will never be without the man you’re wrapped around ever again.
Warnings: 18+ SMUT, swearing, a lot of pent up tension. You know the drill by now:
Summary: We have y/n, a marked one and Garrick Tavis throwing himself into a reckless fight defending you,despite your insistence that you didn’t need protecting the tension between you was undeniable. We have a moment which forces you both to confront what everyone else can already see - the raw, possessive need simmering beneath every glance, every touch.
AUTHORS NOTE:
Listen. LISTEN.
If you came here expecting a chill, slow-burn romance where Garrick Tavis behaves like a rational human being and doesn’t lose his entire damn mind over Reader at the slightest provocation…you clicked the wrong fic.
Also, if you also need a man who looks at you like you personally hung the stars and would commit felonies for you, hit me up. We clearly have a type.
Now go hydrate. You’re welcome. 💀🔥
But to you lovely readers, I hope you enjoy Garrick and y/n's fiery and passionate relationship. Remember, never hold back your emotions like these two, but always remember to communicate and respect each other's boundaries. Happy reading!
If you imagined how your day would go, you wouldn’t have thought you’d be splitting up a fight between Garrick Tavis and some douchebag from first wing. Now you were slamming the door to the shared lounge you and the marked ones shared and it looks could kill. Garrick sighs as he rubs his jaw. His dark eyes follow your every move as you stride towards him,shoulders tense, arms crossed. He is no doubt bracing himself for the lecture he knows is coming.
"Before you start,yes, I know it was stupid." He flashes that infuriating half smirk that always disarms you just enough to soften your glare. “But in my defense…"
You arch a brow. “Oh, this should be good."
He leans forward slightly, voice dropping low enough only for you to hear
"...I wasn’t about to let some First Wing prick imply anything about you." A pause. Then softer “..And I’d do it again."
The look in his eyes isn't just protective,it's something hotter. Something Violet definitely noticed earlier and loved pointing out in front of the entire squad. The air between you thickens, charged with something unspoken as Garrick’s words settle. His smirk fades into something more earnest,more hungry as his gaze drops to your lips for a fraction of a second before meeting your eyes again.
He’d do it again.
You roll your shoulders back, refusing to let him see how that admission coils low in your stomach. “I don’t need you fighting my battles," you say, tilting your chin up, “especially not over some idiot who thinks the only reason I haven't gutted him yet is because I'm running to you for backup, which I am not”
Garrick exhales through his nose amused, frustrated, something. “Oh, trust me,"he mutters darkly, stepping closer until the heat of him presses against every inch of space left between you. “That bastard knows exactly how capable you are." A beat. Then his voice drops lower. “But now he also knows what happens when someone runs their mouth about you, where I can hear it."
A slow, knowing smirk tugs at your lips. Your voice is all challenge and low embers.
“Care to explain why that pissed you off more than the actual insults being thrown my way?"
Garrick’s jaw flexes,his voice rougher than usual when he speaks again.
“You didn’t have to correct him."
The words hang between you like a challenge or an invitation. His fingers twitch at his sides like he wants to reach for you, but instead, he cocks his head, studying your reaction with that infuriatingly knowing gaze. “Would it really be so terrible if people thought I was yours?"
The question is low, dangerous. Playful in a way that makes your pulse skip. Because this? This isn’t just about some First Wing idiot anymore. This is about him. About the way his body tenses when other riders look at you too long. About how neither of you has ever bothered denying anything around Xaden or the marked ones because they all see it anyway.
You take a step closer, close enough to feel the heat rolling off him in waves. The scent of leather and steel and something unmistakably Garrick fills your senses.
“Depends,” you murmur, tipping your head back just enough to meet his darkening gaze. “Are you asking because you care what people think? Or because you want to be?”
His breath catches,just once,before that arrogant smirk of his slides back into place. But there’s no hiding the way his fingers flex like he’s aching to reach for you.
“Oh, I don’t give a damn what they think,” he rumbles, leaning down until his lips nearly brush the shell of your ear. “But if we’re clearing things up,I definitely don’t wanna hear ‘he’s not my boyfriend’ ever again.”
A heartbeat passes. Then another. Your pulse thrums beneath your skin as every unspoken thing between you simmers in the silence. until Xaden clears his throat pointedly from across the room where he's been watching this entire exchange with exasperated amusement.
“For fuck's sake." You look to xaden but then back to Garrick, holding his gaze, refusing to break eye contact as your chin lifts again. You could not give a shit right now. Xaden took that as his cue to leave. The air is hot and heavy between you, crackling like lightning before a storm.
"Only that it's not exactly true, is it?"
Something flickers in his eyes, frustration or desire, you can't tell, as his gaze drops again to your lips. He steps closer, the heat of his body even stronger now, and the space between you is nearly nonexistent. A growl of irritation rumbles low in his throat. He takes another step, and you're suddenly acutely aware of the cool press of the wall behind you, trapping you between stone and muscle. He leans in, so close you can feel the warmth of his breath on your skin.
"No," he says, the word a low, dangerous promise. "It's not." The air between you is electric, charged with tension and the unspoken words. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, his proximity like a brand against your skin. His gaze drifts down to your lips, and he inhales sharply.
You don’t back down. Instead, you tilt your head, a challenge in your eyes. "Then what is true, Tavis?"
Garrick’s laugh is rough, half exasperated, half something darker as he braces an arm against the wall beside your head,caging you in without touching. Almost.
"That I lose my damn mind over you," he admits, voice dropping to a low rasp that curls heat through your veins. His other hand lifts like he can’t stop himself anymore,hovering just above the curve of your jaw before his thumb brushes along it once. Testing. “That if I had my way?" A beat of silence that feels infinite before his smirk returns with a vengeance. “Everyone would know exactly who and what I am to you”
threat,promise,whatever it is hangs between you like the pull of gravity before battle, inevitable and reckless and right.
His voice is a gruff, raw, whisper. "You have no idea how badly I need to kiss you right now."
You feel his voice vibrate through your body, a low, intoxicating hum that sets your nerve endings alight. You swallow, trying to steady your suddenly shaky breathing. Your hands itch to reach for him, to press against the hard lines of his shoulders, feel the firm plane of his chest. But you don't. Instead, you lift your chin again, matching his heated look with defiance.
"What's stopping you?"
Garrick’s gaze darkens. He leans even closer, so close his nose almost grazes yours. “Only my rapidly fading self control," he murmurs, voice rough. His thumb brushes the line of your jaw again, a slow, torturous slide that makes your pulse skip. "Or else I'd have had you against this wall five minutes ago."
Despite the heat flaring between you, you lift a brow. "You're that sure of yourself?"
A grin tugs at his lips,sharp, wicked, yours. "When it comes to you?" His other hand comes up to cage you completely against the wall, his body inches from touching. "I'm not sure of a damn thing."
The confession is raw. Honest. And it undoes you more than any smooth line ever could. His nose skims yours now, breaths mingling as he murmurs, "Tell me to stop." A challenge laced with desperation one he already knows you won’t take. Because this? This fire between you? It's been burning too long to smother now.
The silence between you stretches heavy, charged, waiting. His breath fans over your lips as his gaze locks onto yours, searching for even the slightest flicker of hesitation.
His voice drops to a rough whisper. “One word." A muscle feathers in his jaw. “Just one, and I walk away right now." But the way he says it,like it would kill him to actually do it,betrays him entirely. So you don’t give him a word at all. Instead, you close the last shred of distance yourself,crashing your mouth against his in answer. The moment your lips collide, Garick responds with a raw, desperate hunger that sears you all the way to your core. His hands grip your hips, hauling you flush against him as his mouth devours yours, nipping and teasing until you're gasping for air. He growls, low and feral, as his knee slides between yours, tilting your hips just right, so he can press even closer, his body like a furnace against yours. All the tension, the pent-up frustration and need, flares to a sudden inferno. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer.
His lips move from your mouth to your jaw, trailing down the curve of your throat, teeth grazing sensitive skin that has you arching against him. He presses you further into the wall, his hips rolling against yours as a hand slides under your shirt, skimming the bare skin of your stomach.
His breath is hot, ragged, as he murmurs against your throat. "God, I need you."
Garrick tears his mouth from yours with a ragged groan, forehead pressed to yours as he fights for control. His grip on your hips tightens like he can’t bear to let go,like he’d rather die than step back.
Then, in one swift motion, he hauls you up against him, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carries you out of the lounge and into the hallway. Your laughter is breathless against his neck as he kicks open the nearest door,your door,before dropping you onto the bed with a growl that vibrates straight through you.
He cages you beneath him, chest heaving,dark eyes blazing with possession and something terrifyingly close to devotion. "Boyfriend or not,"he rasps,pinning your wrists above your head,"I belong to you." His lips crash back onto yours,bruising and claiming before dragging down your throat.“So that’s on you sweetheart.” A nip at your collarbone.“Either claim me…”His knee presses between yours again,wringing a gasp from you.“Or watch me lose my goddamn mind every time someone looks at what's mine or gives you shit, gods help me”
Your laughter dies as he moves over you, pressing the searing heat of his body against yours. The world drops away outside this moment, reduced to just the feel of his hands on your skin, his body pinning you to the mattress, the rough growl of your name on his lips. His words sink in, igniting a fire that spreads through your veins. He presses a kiss to your collarbone, lips tracing a trail up your neck until he finds your ear. "You gonna make me beg, sweetheart?"
His voice is rough, wrecked, as he drags his lips back to yours,hovering just a breath away. "Because I will." A shudder rolls through him, his grip tightening on your wrists. "I’ll get on my damn knees if that’s what it takes." The raw honesty in his words steals your breath. There’s no smirk now, no playful arrogance,just Garrick, laid bare, his heart pounding against yours.
Your free hand slides into his hair, tugging until his gaze locks onto yours. "You’ve always been mine," you whisper,claiming him in the only way that matters. The sound he makes is half growl, half surrender as his mouth crashes onto yours again, finally sealing the truth between you. The moment stretches between you,charged, breathless before Garrick exhales sharply, his forehead dropping to yours. His grip on your wrists loosens, fingers sliding down to intertwine with yours as he presses them into the mattress.
"Say it again," he demands, voice rough.
You smirk, tilting your chin up just enough to brush your lips against his. "Mine."
A shudder rolls through him before he captures your mouth in a kiss that feels like a vow,hot, relentless, final. When he pulls back, his eyes are dark with promise.
"Then you don’t get to call me not your boyfriend ever again."
You laugh, breathless, as he nips at your jaw. "Or what?"
"Or I’ll remind you," he growls, dragging his lips down your throat, "exactly how mine you are."
And oh, you want that reminder.
The way he growls the word mine does things to you, sends heat coiling low in you stomach. Before you can tease him more, he's nipping at your jaw, then trailing bruising kisses down your throat.
You bite back a breathless laugh as his words sink in.
"Is that a threat or a promise?" you manage to get out, a smirk tugging at your lips.
Garrick pauses,pulling back enough to fix you with a dark, heated look.
"Both."
The room is thick with tension,charged to the point of ignition as Garrick tugs you tighter against him,hands roaming your body like he can’t get close enough.
"You have any idea what you do to me?" he rumbles,the words more felt than heard,the vibration in his chest like a warning as much as a question. You can’t help the shiver that rolls through you,heat pooling low in your stomach. "Maybe a clue," you tease,voice rough as he drags his lips to your jaw.
Garrick’s hand catches yours mid-taunt, pressing your palm flat against his chest where his heart hammers violently beneath your touch. His voice is rough, wrecked.
“There’s this.”
Then slow, deliberate,he drags your hand lower, over the hard planes of his stomach, past the waistband of his pants, until your fingers brush against the scorching heat of his arousal. A sharp inhale hisses through his teeth as he forces your palm to curl around him through the fabric, his hips jerking into the contact.
“And this.” His forehead drops to yours, breath ragged. “Every damn time you look at me. Every time you breathe.” His grip tightens, guiding your hand to move in a slow, torturous stroke that wrings a groan from his throat. “This is what you do to me.” The confession is raw, filthy, yours and it sends a pulse of pure want straight through you. His eyes lock onto yours, dark with a challenge. His admission is raw, honest, hitting you straight in the gut. His eyes find yours, and they're so dark, so intense, it feels like you're staring into a storm.
"Every damn time." His voice is gravelly, rough as his hips roll against your hand involuntarily. "If I knew you'd drive me this crazy, I..”
But you're not waiting for him to finish. You lean in, pressing your lips to his, swallowing his words, his growl of surprise and need. Garrick groans into the kiss, his fingers tightening around yours as you make deliberate strokes against his leathers. So slow, deliberate, just to feel the way his entire body jerks in response. His free hand fists in your hair, tilting your head back as he breaks the kiss just to drag his teeth along your jaw.
"Fuck, sweetheart," he rasps, voice wrecked. "You trying to kill me?"
You smirk, squeezing lightly just to hear the choked sound he makes. "Just making sure you remember who you belong to."
He begins edging you towards the bed until the backs of you legs hit it and he roughly pushes you so your back lands just right where he wants you. It’s exactly where you want to be to. His laugh is dark, breathless, as he pins your wrist back to the mattress, his hips grinding down against yours in retaliation. "Oh, I remember." His lips find your ear, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. "Now let me remind you."
Every touch from him is like fire, igniting sparks along your skin, and when he pins you to the bed, you arch up against him on reflex. The heat rolls off him in waves as he murmurs into your ear, his voice a rough tease that sets your pulse pounding.
"Do your worst." The words are out before you can think, and his laugh in response is filthy, hungry, as he leans back to look down at you.
"Careful what you ask for," he warns, eyes dark with promise. Garrick’s smirk turns downright predatory as he leans down, his lips brushing yours in a taunting, featherlight kiss. “Oh, I’ll do my worst,” he murmurs, voice dripping with wicked intent. “But first..”
He begins lowering himself so his eyes are level with your hips, those dangerous eyes looking into your soul as he slowing undoes the buttons on your leathers. Teasingly slow as he begins removing them. Until his hand then slides up your thigh, his fingers digging in just enough to make you gasp before he abruptly flips you onto your stomach. You barely have time to brace yourself before his weight settles over you, his chest pressing against your back as his mouth finds the sensitive spot behind your ear.
“First,” he growls, nipping at your skin, “I’m gonna make sure you never forget who I belong to.”
His hand slips under you, fingers edging so close to where you want him. The cool air against your skin is nothing compared to the heat of his palm smoothing over the curve of your hips, then your lower stomach and then.. just right there. With that possessive grip.
“Starting right here.”
His slap lands subtle and sudden on your clit, the sting blooming into heat that has you arching against him with a choked off moan.
Garrick’s laugh is dark, satisfied. “That’s it, sweetheart. Let me hear you.”
Garrick's fingers trail lower, deliberate and teasing, as he presses hot, open mouthed kisses along your shoulder. His breath is ragged against your skin,like he’s barely holding onto his own control but his touch is unhurried, savoring every hitch of your breath, every twitch of your body beneath him.
"Tell me," he murmurs, lips brushing the shell of your ear, "you ever think about this? When I’m across the room, when I’m training, when I’m supposed to be focusing on anything but you?" His fingers dip lower, just barely skimming where you ache for him, drawing a whimper from your throat. "Because I do. Every damn second."
His confession is raw, wrecked, and it sends a shudder through you. You twist in his grip, trying to arch into his touch, but he pins you harder against the mattress with a low growl.
"Uh uh," he chastises, nipping at your earlobe. "You don’t get to rush this”
And then finally his fingers slide home, curling just right, wringing a broken moan from your lips as he murmurs, "Mine."
The word isn’t a question. It’s a vow.
And you’re too far gone to argue.
His touch is like a flame, coaxing a fire in you that only burns brighter. He's relentless, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your throat, nipping and tasting as he murmurs into your ear. While his fingers curve inside you, the sounds of pure pleasure coating his fingers.
"Every damn time I close my eyes, I see you." He presses closer, his body like a furnace against your back, and when his fingers work inside you at a pace that has your legs weak.
"I Think about you every night, all alone in my room. gods I think about you like this every second of the fucking day." he murmurs . His voice is rough, ragged, and the possessive edge is like an electric current running through you. The knowledge that he's as undone from this as you are is both a thrill and a drug.
"Do you touch yourself like I’m touching you right now y/n?" he bites and you can taste the challenge in his words, in the gravel in his voice. "do you think about me?"
The way he says it as he curves his fingers further, has you choking out another moan, biting your lip. It's part taunt and part demand. Like he needs to know. Like he needs to hear you admit it.
"Yes." Your voice is a trembling whisper and you can feel his breath catch.
Garrick's groan is ragged against your skin, his fingers stuttering inside you for a heartbeat before he recovers barely. "Say it again," he demands, voice rough with need. His free hand grips your hip, dragging you back against him so you can feel exactly how hard he is, how much your confession unravels him.
"Tell me how you think about me." His teeth graze your shoulder as his fingers curl deeper, wringing another gasp from your lips. "Tell me what you imagine when you're alone in your bed at night." The command is filthy, impossible to resist,especially when he punctuates it with a slow, torturous stroke of his thumb against your clit.
"Or should I just show you instead?" His voice drops to a whisper, hot against your ear. "Because I know exactly how I'd have you."
Garrick doesn’t wait for your answer. His fingers withdraw abruptly, leaving you gasping at the sudden loss,only for his hands to flip you onto your back in one swift motion. His body cages yours, knees pressing yours apart as he looms over you, his gaze burning with unchecked hunger.
“Since you’re feeling chatty,” he murmurs, dragging a single fingertip down your chest, over your stomach, lower. “Let’s hear it.” His touch stops just shy of where you’re aching for him, his smirk sharp enough to cut. “Tell me what you’ve imagined.”
The challenge in his voice is undeniable. He wants the words. Wants to hear you unravel just as much as he wants to feel it. And when you bite your lip, hesitating, he leans down, his breath hot against your ear.
“Or I’ll start guessing.” A nip at your earlobe. “And trust me, sweetheart..” he takes his own leathers down and His hips finally, finally slide between your thighs, thrusting his hips in a teasing in slow, maddening motion “I’ve got very detailed ideas.”
The groan that tears from your throat is answer enough. Garrick’s laugh is dark, victorious. “That’s what I thought.”
He doesn't give you time to recover from the sensations rolling through you before he captures your lips in a hot, possessive kiss, like he doesn't just want your body, he wants all of you. It's a kiss that leaves you breathless, his fingers threading through your hair so he can angle your head just the way he wants.
When he finally breaks the kiss, breath ragged, his gaze is dark, intense as he stares down at you. "Every time I see you," he growls, his hand cupping your cheek, "all I think about is touching you." his hands spread your thighs open, before he lines himself up right there at you very wet entrance, before he slowly thrusts. Moans escape both of your lips at the feeling,the tightness against his cock.
“about fucking you y/n” he says breathlessly into your ear.
Garrick's groan is ragged against your skin as he sinks into you completely, his forehead dropping to yours in a moment of pure, shuddering bliss. The stretch is exquisite, the heat of him overwhelming and when he finally moves, it's with slow, deliberate rolls of his hips that have you arching beneath him.
"Fuck," he grits out, his voice wrecked as he braces himself above you, muscles taut with restraint. "You feel..” His hips snap forward, stealing the rest of his words as pleasure rips through you both. His hands find yours, fingers intertwining as he pins them above your head, his body moving against yours in a rhythm that feels like it was carved just for the two of you. Every thrust is punctuated by a ragged breath, a whispered curse, the way his grip tightens like he’s afraid you’ll slip away.
"Look at me," he demands, voice rough, and when your eyes meet his, the intensity there steals your breath. "I want you to remember exactly who’s fucking you."
His pace turns punishing then, each snap of his hips dragging a moan from your lips, each possessive claim of his mouth against yours sealing the truth between you.
if xaden dated someone after violet that’s like not as strong or powerful as violet, like a healer, and people notice the difference and xaden’s like “nah that’s why i like you”
Everyone at Basgiath knew the story of the legendary couple. Violet Sorrengail and Xaden Riorson had been written in the stars, or so the rumors claimed. But their paths had diverged — Xaden remained at Basgiath while Violet chose to fly across Navarre with her dragons, chasing down whatever it was she needed to chase.
You were nothing like her. Your gift wasn't lightning or fire — it was quieter. People left your wing alive and soothed, wounds knitting shut beneath your palms, pain draining out of them like water through a cracked jar. You healed cadets, wingleaders, anyone who stumbled through your door bleeding or broken.
Xaden was your regular. Your boyfriend, if you wanted to be precise about it — though "regular" fit too, given how often he ended up on your table.
Of course people talked. *The plain healer who replaced Violet Sorrengail.* The comparisons followed you everywhere, murmured behind hands in the mess hall, tossed carelessly between cadets who didn't think you could hear. It hurt more than you let on. Every word landed like an arrow to the chest. Bullseye, every time.
Xaden rarely spoke of her. When he did, it was only in passing — because Sgaeyl had spoken to Tairn, who'd relayed that Violet was alive, was well, was somewhere far from here doing whatever it was she'd left to do.
Tonight, you sat on the edge of your cot with your knees pulled to your chest, staring at nothing. You'd overheard two second-years outside the infirmary — *she's nothing special, not like Sorrengail, just patches people up, boring, no real power* — and the words had lodged themselves under your ribs and stayed there.
The door creaked. Xaden didn't knock anymore; he hadn't in months.
"Hey." His voice softened the moment he saw your face. He crossed the room in three strides and crouched in front of you, scarred hands finding your knees. "What happened?"
"Nothing." You wiped at your eyes before he could see. "I'm fine."
"You're a terrible liar for someone who spends her life reading pain off other people's faces." He tipped your chin up, gently, until you had no choice but to look at him. "Tell me."
So you did. The whispers, the comparisons, the word *boring* echoing louder than it had any right to.
Something hardened in his jaw, but when he spoke, his voice stayed low and even. "You know what I see when I watch you work? People walk into your wing screaming, and they walk out steady. No fire, no lightning — just you, and somehow that's enough to put someone back together who wasn't, five minutes before." He pressed his forehead to yours. "That's not boring. That's not *nothing.* Half this world runs on people forgetting that quiet strength is still strength."
"They don't see it that way."
"They don't have to." His thumb brushed your cheek, catching a tear you hadn't managed to hide. "I see you. That's the only comparison that's ever mattered to me."
You let yourself lean into him, into the solid, steady warmth of him, and for the first time all evening, the arrow in your chest loosened its grip.
request: “Maybe with Xaden suddenly realising reader is bi and he has to watch out for both men and women” for @amayakantara
pairing: Xaden x Reader
word count: 1,316
tags: no use of y/n, bisexual!reader, jealousy, fade to black moment.
summary: After Xaden overhears a conversation between you and Imogen, his jealousy is on overdrive. Good thing you know just what to say to make him feel better—the truth.
a/n: finally getting back to my bingo!
Xaden Masterlist
You’re on the sparring mats with Imogen, both of you panting and flushed after three rounds, your braid sticking to your neck. It’s your wing’s turn on the schedule for a few private gym hours, and everyone is here. Rhiannon is teaching Sawyer how to use a staff a few mats down, and Liam and Garrick are going at it across the room while your boyfriend and Wingleader, Xaden, observes.
Imogen tosses you a cocky grin as you circle one another. “I heard some girls talking about you at lunch,” she says, dodging a jab. “How does Xaden feel about having competition?”
You pause, blink, utterly confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Imogen rolls her eyes. “It means that they were talking about how pretty you are, and that you like girls too.” You grunt as she lands a hit to your side. “Some of them are plotting to steal you from Xaden.”
You snort. “Good luck with that. And it’s not a competition. I only have eyes for Xaden now.” Which was true. Before you met him, you may have hooked up with a cadet or two. Male or female, it didn’t matter to you. In this death machine of a college, it had been nice to have options available to you when you were feeling celebratory or just needed a warm body to get you through the night. But now that you’re in your second year and dating the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, your days of bed hopping are over—not that you miss it. Xaden has consumed your every thought for the past six months you’ve been together, like his shadows have wrapped around your mind and heart. You can’t believe anyone would actually think they have a chance with you.
She arches a brow, amused. “Well, I hope you’re ready to tell him that, sweetheart. I think your big, broody boyfriend is having a mental breakdown.”
You follow her gaze and catch sight of Xaden standing across the sparring gym, where he’d been observing with his usual unreadable expression. Only now, he’s not unreadable at all. His jaw is clenched tight, brows furrowed, and his entire body is locked in place like he’s just heard something life-altering.
Which, apparently, he has.
He turns away and storms off before you can so much as wave.
You shake your head and let it go for now.
It gets weirder at dinner.
You’re sitting with your squad, savoring bites of dessert and laughing about how Rhiannon kicked Sawyer’s ass with the staff when the bench creaks beside you.
Suddenly, Xaden is there, squeezing himself onto the narrow space between you and Rhiannon.
You cock a brow. “Aren’t you supposed to be sitting at the leadership table?”
He presses a kiss to the top of your head like that answers everything and picks up a spoon, stealing bites of your cake.
You glance to your other side, where Rhiannon’s eyebrows are halfway to her hairline.
Imogen snorts into her drink and coughs violently. “Sorry,” she wheezes. “Didn’t mean to inhale water. Continue.”
Xaden doesn’t react. Doesn’t speak. Just sits there silently radiating mine.
When Violet two seats down laughs a little too loudly, you feel his entire body tense beside you.
He’s never been this… obvious.
You lean in and whisper, “Are you okay?”
A single dip of his chin is all you get in response.
Dinner drags on, and you try to ignore the fact that your six-foot-five boyfriend is sitting on two inches of bench just to hover at your side. You finish your plate, kiss his cheek in thanks, and try not to laugh when he growls quietly as another cadet brushes too close on their way out of the dining hall.
It isn’t until you’re halfway back to the dorms that you realize he’s steering you.
Each time someone approaches, Xaden maneuvers himself so his body slides between you and whoever’s passing. When Rhiannon calls your name and jogs to catch up, he slows his pace just enough to angle his frame—shielding you like a human wall.
You stop walking.
Xaden halts, too, turning toward you with a mask of calm that doesn’t fool you for a second.
You cross your arms. “Are you going to tell me what in Malek’s name is going on?”
He blinks. “What do you mean?”
You raise a brow. “You’ve been acting territorial all night. You sat with us at dinner. You nearly shoved that poor cadet who brushed my arm. And you’ve basically body-blocked the entire hallway. This isn’t like you at all.”
He frowns. “I haven’t—”
“Xaden.”
He sighs through his nose. Glances down the hallway. Then takes your hand and tugs you toward his room without another word.
The moment the door shuts behind you, you spin to face him. “Seriously. Talk to me.”
He crosses his arms over his chest, jaw tight. “I overheard you and Imogen earlier.”
“Okay…” you draw out. “And?”
He doesn’t meet your eyes. “She said something about girls trying to get with you.”
You can’t help but smile. The presumptions are just too funny. “Yeah, they think they have a chance with me, but they don’t.”
His jaw ticks. “You’re bisexual.”
“I mean… yeah, I am. Is that a problem?” you ask, your head tilted, eyes narrowing.
His eyes snap to yours. “No. I mean—yes. I mean, not in the way you’re thinking.” His voice is rough, low. “It’s not about that. It’s about… I didn’t know.”
You step closer, brushing your fingers over his wrist. “Xaden, why are you acting like I just told you I had a secret husband and kids?”
He huffs a humorless laugh. “Because now it feels like I have to compete with everyone. Men, women, all of it. Like the whole world doubled overnight.”
You stare at him. “Are you seriously jealous?”
He doesn’t answer, which means yes.
Your jaw drops. “You do realize how ridiculous that is, right? And honestly quite offensive,” you say, crossing your arms.
“Offensive how?” he asks, his brows furrowed.
You huff. “There’s a stigma around bi people. That because we like both males and females, we’re more likely to cheat.”
He shakes his head, stepping toward you. “I don’t think that. It’s just that you’re the most magnetic person I’ve ever met. I’ve seen cadets of every gender trip over themselves trying to get your attention, and I always thought it was fine. You only liked guys, and I could handle them in any fight. But now finding out that you do like both… it’s fucking with my head.”
You smile slowly, heart softening. “And yet, I chose you.”
He doesn’t speak, doesn’t move, just stares at you like he’s trying to put the pieces together in his mind.
You step even closer and rise onto your toes to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I love you,” you whisper. “I don’t care how many people are in the world. I don’t want anyone else. You’re it for me.”
His throat bobs as he swallows. “Yeah?”
You slide your hands under his shirt, fingers skating across the planes of his abdomen. “Yeah.”
He exhales a shaky breath, the tension bleeding from his shoulders.
You push him back until his knees hit the bed, and he sits without resistance, letting you crawl into his lap.
“I mean it,” you murmur, brushing your lips against his ear. “No one compares to my sexy, broody, infuriating Wingleader boyfriend.”
He groans, hands locking around your hips. “You’re going to kill me.”
You grin. “Not until I show you just how much I love you.”
And you do. You show him there’s nothing to be jealous of—because no matter how many people exist in the world, there’s only one person you want to come home to. And he’s sitting right beneath you, moaning your name like a prayer.
Hi I hope it’s ok if i request this you really don’t have to do it. But a Xaden riorson fluff and angst where the reader gets really hurt but they are trying to help people so she hides it from Xaden and when he finds out he’s really mad at her but he’s really just scared of losing her and hates seeing her hurt with a happy ending. I hope this is ok and there is no pressure to do this I completely understand if you don’t want to.
My Greatest Fear
Xaden Riorson x reader
Note: I haven’t written for Xaden in so long, I’ve missed him. I’m so ready for Onyx Storm and I kind of want to do something to celebrate. Should I do a countdown with fics for each FW boy for the week leading up to the books release? I hope you like this fic anon and thanks for requesting :)
Warnings: mentions of blood, injuries, and stitches
More than anything you want to sneak away from the crowded hall. To blend in with the shadows of Riorson House and limp away to your bedroom. Clutching your side you skillfully dodge riders, healers, and everyone in between.
“Y/n! Can you assist over here?” Violet calls to you, her arms full of bandages. You meet her pleading gaze, putting on a generous smile and nodding as you make your way over to her. The slash on your ribs can wait. Others with worse injuries need help.
Pulling the laces of your vest tighter with shaking hands you take the bandages from Violet to help distribute them. “Thank you,” Violet breathes out. She rushes off to take another box from Liam, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.
A small sigh escapes your lips at the sight, making you wonder where your own boyfriend is. Xaden wasn’t among the injured, not that he would ever let himself be seen like that thanks to the Colonel’s words in the last Assembly meeting. But this wyvern attack has been the worst one yet. Healers are still bringing people in and you don’t want to thank the gods until you lay eyes on an unharmed Xaden.
————
After an hour you were exhausted and light headed. The more you felt the cut on your side dripping blood the tighter you pulled your vest, hoping to keep your skin together. Slumping on the ground you rest for a moment.
Taking deep breathes you try to focus on the chaos around you, tuning out the pain.
Opening your eyes you see Liam staring down at you, a worried look on his face. “Hey,” he says softly. “Xaden is back and asking for you.” Your heart picks up at the mention of your boyfriend.
“Is he ok?” Liam smiles at you. “Of course he is. He’s Xaden.”
You chuckle, “Don’t let him hear you say that. It’ll go right to his head, it’s already big enough.”
Liam holds his hand out to help you. You brush him off, using the wall to help you stand. Liam eyes you as you take a shaky breath. Pulling yourself together you do your best not to limp toward Xaden. You can feel Liam’s gaze burning on the back of your head at your slow movements.
Whipping around — as slowly as possible — you scowl at him. “Stop it. Are you coming or not?” You snarl. Liam holds his hands up in surrender, hurrying his steps to catch up with you.
Stepping into the throne room you take another steadying breath, using the wall to help keep your balance. As leaders of the rebellion mingle, discussing the wyvern and Venin, your eyes immediately find Xaden. You let out a sigh of relief at the sight of him unharmed.
Before you can make your way to him Liam waves him over.
The first thing Xaden notices is how pale you look along with the dark spot growing on the side of your uniform. He wordlessly reaches for your ribs, watching for your reaction. Your hand flys out to grasp his wrist. Your grip weak. “Don’t,” you whisper harshly.
“What’s wrong?” You shake your head. You’re struggling to breathe now. Xaden looks to Liam for answers but all his brother can do is shrug, mirroring his worry.
Your other hand grips Xaden’s bicep as hard as you can. “I can’t…I need,” Xaden holds you closer to his body. His hand gently touching your side. You hiss at the contact and try to push Xaden away. “What do you need baby?”
You don’t know what happened after that. When you blacked out all you heard was Xaden yelling for help and your vest being ripped apart.
When you came to the dizzy feeling is still with you. You try to sit up but a large hand on your shoulder stops you. “Don’t even,” the worry clear in Xaden’s voice. You stare up at him with big eyes, remaining flat on the bed.
Xaden sits on the edge of the bed with a huff. He looked like he was struggling not to scold you. “Why?” Is all he asks.
You knew what he meant. Why walk around tending to the injured when you were bleeding out. Truthfully, you knew it was bad. The Venin you went hand to hand with fought nasty.
“Colonel Gerault yelled at me last time, saying leaders shouldn’t look weak even if we feel weak. You know how he gets about image. Violet needed help and so did our other riders. I needed to know they were ok before I asked for help.”
Xaden let out a deep sigh, annoyed with your selflessness. He rolled his neck while simultaneously clenching his jaw. The tension this man holds in his whole body is astounding. “That’s not true and you know it.”
The two of you sit in silence for a while as Xaden contemplates his next words.
He gently holds your hand, running his thumb across your knuckles. “Do you know what the biggest loss in this war would be to me?” You shrug as the possibilities run through your mind knowing Xaden can hear your thoughts.
With each passing thought his frown deepens. “Not this house, not my dragon, or my father’s legacy. It’s you, sweetheart. You would be the greatest loss for me. I can replace a house and all that other shit. But there is no replacing you.”
A tear escapes down your cheek. Squeezing Xaden’s hand you give him a sad smile. “I need you.” He whispers, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’m sorry.”
Xaden shakes his head. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, baby. I just need you to get better.” You hold out your pinky for him. Your sacred tradition when making sure one sticks to their word. “Promise.”
He wraps his pinky around yours before adding, “And, you will stay in bed until that wound is fully healed.” You open your mouth to protest but Xaden gives you a look, lifting your entwined fingers. Showing that you are bound to do as he wishes while you’re hurt.
“Fine.” You agree begrudgingly. “Thank you.” He drops your finger, pressing another kiss to your head, then your lips. You grab the back of his head to deepen the kiss. Xaden moans at the feeling of your tongue swiping against his bottom lip. After a few more minutes of passionately making out Xaden pulls away.
You whine at the lack of lip contact. “You need to rest. If we do what I want to do you’re going to need new stitches.” He smirks at you. “Guess I better get to healing.”
✶ ── only child. scorpio. rider. mind reader. silk & steel. silver rings. insomnia. angsty. daggers. perfectionist. black coffee. words of affirmation. cigarettes. loyal. manipulator? silent but deadly. “get out of my fucking head!”
✶ ── he fell first. slowburn.
NNTINNSIC!READER ...
has a rare signet.
one that she was 100% sure would get her killed.
in fact, the only reason they kept you alive was because they knew how powerful you could be. in the right hands, of course.
a mind dominion.
the ability to enter one's mind completely with total control over both their mental and physical capabilities.
their thoughts, actions, and memories were all yours for the taking, to steal and manipulate however you see fit.
a signet so dangerous it never leaves the mouths of your instructors.
no one else at Basgiath knows. not your squad. not your friends. although you're not sure you have much of those anymore.
all they know is that you're always disappearing. top secret private training. endless trips to the healers all for some mysterious signet that is kept under lock and key.
but you knew the truth.
you knew most peoples truths.
which is why you can't possibly fathom the apparent truth that xaden riorson has developed a fascination with you.
the strong, powerful, handsome shadow-wielding wingleader. the one person smart enough to stay away from trouble.
and yet, for reasons you can't understand, he keeps finding you.
always there somehow, supportive and unyielding, when you need it the most. his gaze lingering just a little longer than it should. his attention never straying far from where you stand.
nobody seemed to grasp the connection that you two were forming.
the intensity and the desire and fear all wrapped into one complex puzzle to be solved.
whatever the reason may be, after so much time spent inside everyone else's mind,
it seems xaden riorson might just be the first person capable of getting inside yours.
author's note — heyy!! i am so freaking excited for this omg. i love xaden and i can't wait to bring inntinnsic!reader to life. feel free to send requests for this duo, and i will get to them as soon as possible. check out this series as well as my other works on my masterlist! much love, & i hope you enjoy!
