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[callsign-rogueone]

proud of you!!! 💛💛💛💛😽

thank you lovie 🥺

[callsign-rogueone]

thank you for 1.3k 🥺 I know a lot of those people probably don’t use tumblr anymore, since I’ve had this blog since 2016, but it’s still crazy to me that so many people decided that they liked me enough to keep me around on their dash.

I know I say this every day or two, but I have so much more planned for all of our book bfs/gfs and I’m genuinely so excited to keep sharing my thoughts and rambling with all of you. 💗

interacting with you guys is the highlight of my days sometimes. it makes me so happy to see messages and comments from y’all. love you. mean it.

also — in line with my last milestone post which was for 1.1k — I’m 551 days drug-free today (about a year and a half)! addiction is a bitch, and I’m so glad to have left that part of me in the dust. I’m a better person for it.

[callsign-rogueone]

Hey beautiful ♡ how have you been doing? ❤️

It's a short one this time I promise ♡ I have a few things / questions saved about ur girlfriends. (Sometimes it just comes up in my mind randomly. Can't help it) if you're fine with it I'll probably send these too if you want to.

Do u think Bren is big on cuddling? Holding duchess when she's sad or on off day ( when shes cold). And other way around? Her Holding him. I just re read "last six year" and she holds him when his father died and when he was just resurrected he curls into her 🥺 this man is so fucking precious I want him 🥺

This turned out longer than I thought. Sorry 🥺❤️ I love u bb make sure te rest, eat and drink enough ♡♡♡

hihi! I’m doing good. I was busy all weekend but I have the day off today to recover 💗 and I will accept ALL the questions!! I love talking about our lovely couples, and answering them helps me figure out their relationship dynamics / gives me ideas for future chapters too, hehe 🥰 

my response got a little long so I put it as a separate post that I’ll add to the masterlist 🧡 I hope your day went well! (I think it's the evening over there... idk.)

[callsign-rogueone]

cuddles - b.s.

Brennan Sorrengail x reader words: 565 🏷: no book spoilers, just thoughts about cuddles with Bren [re: this ask]. gender neutral + no pronouns used. brief mentions of the following things, but they aren’t described in any detail: reader and/or Brennan being injured or sick, having nightmares, stress, and worrying about your partner / being afraid of losing them again. one (1) implication of sexual activity at the end but it’s incredibly mild and left up for interpretation. not edited, just a ramble / headcanons. posting this from my bed, wishing I had a brennan here with me right now :(

Bren is absolutely a cuddler behind closed doors, when it’s just him and his partner around.

it’s definitely a stress reliever for him to just be held and relax with you, to take his mind off of preparing for war. everywhere else, he’s the stern, responsible Lieutenant Colonel, but inside your room, he’s just your Bren, and he likes to be babied sometimes. he deserves it! hold him. massage the stress out of his shoulders. be the big spoon for him sometimes (even if you’re shorter/smaller than him, he still loves it). let him lay his head on your lap / chest / etc and play with his hair and read aloud to him from whatever book you’re in the middle of. warning you though, he’ll probably fall asleep and trap you there for a good hour because he’s so tired all the time.

you’ve both been through so much, and sometimes he just likes to have you close, feeling the warmth of your body and your heartbeat and your breathing, as a reassurance that you’re still alive, still here with him 🥺 especially if one of you has a nightmare, or something scary happened to either of you that day — if you were seriously injured, he’s mending you immediately, obviously, but then he’s not letting you out of his sight. he’s taking the afternoon off and taking care of you, and that includes hours of cuddles. 

and he’ll do it as a reassurance for you, too. if you’re crying / injured / overwhelmed, etc., he’s scooping you into his arms and holding you close while he figures out what’s wrong and how to fix it for you, because that’s what Brennan does, he fixes things. but if it’s not an immediately urgent issue, he’s happy to cuddle you a while to help you feel better first.

and it’s a subconscious thing for him too. even when he’s asleep, he’ll reach for you, curling into your side when he finds you. he just wants to be close to you, as it’s a comfort to him. he falls asleep a lot easier and stays asleep longer when he can feel that you’re around. if he’s sick or recovering from an injury (like in the last six years), you need to be close to him — not just for your own reassurance and because you want to take care of him, but also because he’ll drag himself out of bed to find you if you leave. 

on nights where it’s too hot to cuddle, you have to settle for falling asleep holding hands, which works for a few minutes — until one of you wants to roll over — but it’s good enough for him. 

also, I stand by the fact that he’d have the most comfortable bed. he’s the top commander of the revolution, so he’d theoretically have the nicest room, and because he’s so tired from running the army and mending people and teaching a class now, too, I think he would value having a nice soft place to sleep when he can. a big mattress that you can stretch out on, lots of pillows and some very nice blankets.

and I am legally obligated to make this suggestive, because it’s Brennan: cuddling is a requirement after ~certain activities~. and also, cuddling tends to turn into ~certain activities~ quite often — when you’re not too tired, that is. 😉

[callsign-rogueone]

https://twitter.com/galacticidiots/status/1785199226038677571

spark and liam, angel and garrick, sweetheart and ridoc.. i fear i'm going to list all the girlfriends. i love the universe you've created <3

oh this is absolutely spark and garrick and ridoc — so glad you included him. he’s gonna protect sweetheart with his life and take such good care of her. big plans for those two (that I’m writing in the wrong order, of course.)

and also aaric… I know I keep posting all this vague shit about him and sunny, bc I don’t want to spoil it, (and I promise I’ll post the start of their story in May) but he definitely feels the need to protect her from day one bc she’s so sweet and sunshiney.

this is also giving me agegap!Bren vibes (from the little ramble I posted a week or two ago hehe)

I love when y’all send me stuff like this because a) I just love talking to you guys, especially about FW and my writing and b) it shows me that you get it and that the dynamics I’m trying to write are clear and understandable 🥺😭🥰💗

[callsign-rogueone]

1 and 3 give me spark vibes!

[re: this post]

I can neither confirm nor deny… 🤭

[callsign-rogueone]

just had a heartbreaking thought: precisely what was Sawyer doing from October through July of his first year? he couldn’t go to Carr’s class, nor flight training obviously. he couldn’t participate in war games or squad battle or anything… I guess he could keep going to lectures and battle brief, and probably had some assignment like kitchen/archives duty etc., but what else? was he just alone for the rest of the day while everyone else was with their dragons? 🥺

[callsign-rogueone]

ok but can HE make ME worse

[callsign-rogueone]

sneak peeks for our girlfriends / wives

a lot of girlfriend chapters coming in May! here's some little peeks. see if you can guess who each one is for -- some are easier to guess than others. and I included one we haven't really talked about much at all, but I decided to keep her :)

one:

You have your arms crossed over your chest as he points to a page of the ancient-looking book spread open before you. You clearly don’t agree with whatever he’s saying, but you don’t interrupt.

two:

But you aren’t at morning formation either, and as he settles into his usual seat at Battle Brief, you’re still nowhere to be found. There’s no denying it now; this isn’t a series of coincidences, this is a pattern, and something is definitely wrong.

three:

“I have that feeling again,” you manage, forcing down the acid rising in your throat. “But this time, I don’t know what's going to happen.”

four:

“I can do it,” you answer. “I just need time.” “I know you can do it. I asked if it would help.”

five:

How he befriended one of these things is beyond you. At least you won’t have to worry about failing this assignment if it roasts you alive.

six:

“Do you know where we’re going?” “I do. But if I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise," he says dryly.

seven:

No smile, no loving touch, no real goodbye for his only son who he may very well never see again, no use of his name, just "Cadet"… Your blood is boiling.

eight:

"Either kill me where I stand, or shut the fuck up and get back in formation.”

nine:

“My mother was a healer, before yours had her executed. I know what I’m doing.”

[callsign-rogueone]

Hey my lovely and favorite writer! How are you doing lovely? ♡

I read your new chapter from garrick and Angel. I reblogged it with my full rant, hehe. But I really loved it. You posted it around 8 in the morning here in belgium, and I had just woken up. I love waking up and seeing you posted something, it always makes me so excited. Anyway it was such a sweet chapter. He's so caring towards her. And her flowers and plants growing 🤌🥺❤️ it was so sweet and tender and caring. My heart melted. Love the added from the rune, and that immediately noticed what was wrong and wanted to put it back on her ❤️🥺

Also I love when you post little sneak peaks, I save them and guess or think who I could be and the story. I remember doing with a sneak peak from bren and duchess "fireproof" you posted a little sneak peak and for weeks I was guessing what it would be, where and all of that. I was so far off expect for the dragon ambassador thing. It was the only thing I had correct hehe.

I've been re reading the 2 sneak peaks you posted from bren and duchess earlier this week. I love re reading them. Thank u so much ♡♡♡

Can't wait to see what else you have in store lovely ♡

I really appreciate you taking your time responding to my rants I always save them cuz you're responds are so precious to me ❤️🥺

I hope you're doing okay and feeling well. Make sure to take enough rest. Eat and drink enough. ♡ I hope you have an amazing week. I'm proud of you ♡

hi love!! I'm honored to be your favorite 🥺 I'm doing well. there's a lot of things I'm looking forward to this week.

I'm so happy you liked the Garrick and Angel chapter. I've been slowly working on it for two months and I'm glad it's finally finished.

you wake up to my posts, and I wake up to your sweet messages 💗 I love hearing from you and all my other readers.

I'll post some more sneak peeks today, hehe. I have a schedule planned for May but I don't know if I'll be able to follow it 🥲 I want to post a lot more of the girlfriend fics and some requests that have been sitting in my inbox for a long time... I promise they're all going to get done eventually.

I hope your week goes well! 🤍

[callsign-rogueone]

https://www.tumblr.com/loveisgame/748664911874473984

which one of the girlfriends/couples would this be 😆

link [video of a couple play fighting / wrestling. sfw I guess? nothing explicit]

perhaps controversial, but hear me out: Brennan and Duchess.

you may be responsible military leaders, but you aren’t above a good old fashioned pillow fight. it’s low-stakes, nobody’s going to get hurt, and it’s a way to be playful and let off some stress, to be giggly and carefree for a while, play-fighting like little kids again.

but it never lasts long. it’s too easy for him to overpower you, and you look so pretty underneath him, flushed and out of breath like that, and you’re already on the bed anyway… he’s gonna take the pillow and put it under your hips so he can— this was supposed to be a cute post. nvm.

sorry gang. I am physically incapable of writing Bren without making it sexy. y’all need to start hitting me with the spray bottle like a misbehaving cat to train it out of me.

[callsign-rogueone]

GRRRRRRRRRRR WOOF WOOF BARK BARK ARF BARK GRRRR WOOF SNARL HSSSS GRRRR WOOF WOOF BARK ARF GRRRR HSSSS WOOF WOOF BARK ARF GRRRR WOOF WOOF BARK GRRR SNARL ARF WOOF BARK ARF SNARL HISSSSS GARE AND ANGEL OH. MY GODDD..!!!!

an entirely appropriate response /gen

but seriously, this made me crack up laughing after the very long day I had. ily 🤍

[callsign-rogueone]

Since Garrick is my absolute favorite of Fourth Wing… that Angel and Garrick post literally made me blushing, giggle and kicking my feet 😭💕 that was so soft, so gentle and I enjoyed reading it word for word 🥺 I can’t wait for their little story to evolve ✨

I need a man like Garrick Tavis, where do I get one 😭

hehe thank you bb!! I’m glad you liked it 🥺 I’m not very confident in my smut-writing skills so messages like these make me feel better about it ❤️‍🩹

I’ll be continuing their story farther into Iron Flame, but I think I’m going to stop where the book stops until we pick things back up in Onyx Storm. in the meantime I’ll probably take things back to the days before the events of Fourth Wing as well.

and fr!! I’m recently single for the first time in two years and I need to go find me a Garrick. or a Brennan. or literally any of these men. but for now I’m just chillin with my book boyfriends and my cat and my sweet tumblr friends. I love you guys 🤍

[callsign-rogueone]

thank you - g.t.

Garrick Tavis x reader Garrick shows you how grateful he is that you saved his life, and how much he missed you while you were apart. Or, what caused all those sunflowers to sprout in the hallway. part of Garrick and Angel’s story (fits into what was I made for?) words: 4.0k 🏷 NSFW. set during IF, but no spoilers in this one. this is 4k of straight up sex. afab reader who is referred to as a girl a few times (I cannot write smut without at least one "attagirl" in there, I'm sorry) makeout, groping, fingering, unprotected piv (don’t do that), a lot of swearing from Garrick lmao, fluffy lovey future talk, several I-love-you’s and a casual marriage proposal in there somewhere, aftercare and cuddles 🥰 still working on my smut skills, so pls be gentle with me hsfdj

As soon as the door closes, Garrick’s hands are all over you; pulling you close and kneading the plush of your hips, smoothing over your sides. He’s just groping you, for lack of a better word, but it feels good and you don’t want him to stop. 

“Gare, what are you— oh,” you breathe, your eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his lips trailing over your jaw.

“M’ reminding you,” he says, placing a kiss behind your ear, “that I am very much alive,” another kiss to your neck, “and showing you how thankful I am that you saved my life. Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” you manage, already out of breath. “That's okay.”

“Good. Now just relax for me, angel. Let me do the work, hm?”

You stutter out an uh-huh, already feeling yourself start to slip into that familiar soft and fuzzy headspace, ready to be taken care of.

He settles into your desk chair like he owns the place, parting his legs and tapping the space between them. “Foot up.”

You rest your boot on the edge of the seat, letting him pull at the laces and slide the shoe off, dropping it onto the floor with a soft thud. You start to move your leg down, but strong hands close around your calf, his fingertips pressing into the tight muscle through the fabric of your pants, silently working out the knots. You sigh softly, feeling the tension slip away. 

He taps the back of your leg twice, and you switch, setting your other boot on the seat. He takes his time with the laces, loosening each row carefully before removing it, continuing to massage away the soreness from the morning’s workout.

Another two taps, and you lower your socked foot to the floor. 

He guides you forward with a strong hand on each of your hips, until you’re standing directly in front of him. 

You’re mesmerized by the soft look on his face as he slowly starts to remove your arsenal, setting the few small blades behind him on your desk in a neat row — Failsafe last, and the most gently. You didn’t realize he knew where they all were, but then again, he knows everything about you.

He starts to peel away your uniform, slipping off your flight jacket, which now bears the proper Lieutenant’s insignia to match his, dropping it next to your boots.

You’re hit with a wave of self-consciousness as he helps you out of your shirt. The last time he undressed you like this, you were in his room at Basgiath, nearly five months ago, and in that time you’ve no longer been forced to overexert yourself every day, no longer in a constant state of fight-or-flight… you don’t look exactly how you used to.

Your worries face quickly, brushed away by his soft words and the gentle brush of his hands over your skin.

“Missed this perfect body so much,” he murmurs against your collarbone, his hands settling on your waist. “So soft, so nice to hold, to kiss…” 

He unbuttons your pants with ease, guiding them down your legs and smoothing his hands over your hips, letting you step out the rest of the way and kick them aside along with your socks. He presses a few soft kisses to your tummy before he pulls back. 

“C’mere,” he coaxes, patting his thigh.

You climb into his lap without hesitation, the chair creaking under your combined weight, but that’s the least of your worries — he’s still wearing far too much clothing.

He’d said that he wanted to do all the work, but he doesn’t protest as you tug at his shirt, untucking it from his pants; he just gives you that smug grin you adore, slipping it over his head easily and tossing it aside.

You will never tire of the sight of him shirtless, all that thick muscle on full display, his relic contrasting with his pale skin so beautifully, curling up his arm and onto his shoulder… 

He has a few new scars on his sides, ones you know weren’t there before you were sent to Resson — a long, shallow slice on his left and what you really hope wasn’t a stab wound on the right. Both are fully healed, and likely too old for you to do anything about them, but you still reach out to trace them with gentle fingertips; a soft, loving touch, an acknowledgment of his pain and a silent apology that you weren’t there to heal them for him.

“I didn’t want to worry you,” he begins quietly, anticipating the soft lecture you always give him whenever he comes home injured.

You lean forward to give him a soft kiss. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re safe.”

You rub your hands over his sides for a moment, admiring the planes of muscle, the definition and strength under your palms. You dip your fingertips into his waistband, intending to undress him further, but he stops you, a gentle hand wrapping around your wrist.

“This is supposed to be about you,” he says playfully, nudging your nose with his. 

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Just let me love you.”

“Always.”

You sigh happily as his lips connect to yours again, his arm wrapping around your waist to keep you upright. You’d missed being this close to him, missed the hours you would spend just like this, sitting in his lap, giving each other lazy kisses.

His fingers hook into the leather cord around your neck, tugging on it gently, and you move back to let him pull it up over your head. He holds it carefully, setting it on the desk with your knives.

In the few days that you’ve had it back, you’ve gotten used to the weight of the runestone hanging there, and you feel a little anxious in its absence despite it being only a few feet away. You touch your fingertips to your chest subconsciously, feeling only warm skin and the beat of your heart.

He realizes what’s wrong, reaching behind him to take it off the desk and put it back where it belongs, but you shake your head no, putting your hand down.

“I’m okay,” you reassure. “Just feels a little weird being without it.” 

You know he understands — he was the one who had the idea to make it into a necklace for you after you’d refused to put it down for days, nearly spraining your hand from constantly gripping it so tightly. He’d been enraged when he realized Varrish had taken it from you. 

“Just let me know if you want it back, okay?”

You nod, your noses brushing with the movement. “Okay.”

“Attagirl.”

His hands settle back on your hips, his head dipping down to kiss over your heart where the cold stone would normally rest, just above the tight binding you wear every day. He hooks his fingers into the hem, pulling it down slowly until your breasts spill out over it. 

“Missed this,” he murmurs, sliding his hands up your ribs to knead at your chest. “So soft, so nice to play with…”

Your breath catches as he starts to rub his thumbs over your nipples, soft brushes back and forth that send a pleasant, tingly feeling through you. 

“Sit up a little for me?”

You straighten up quickly, adjusting your position in his lap with a few more concerning creaks from the chair that you choose to ignore.

He leans down, flicking the tip of his tongue over your nipple, and you clap a hand to your mouth, trying to keep quiet — your friends are in their rooms across the hall, and you’d be mortified if they heard you.

He pulls back, brushing his hands over your ribs soothingly. “I put up a sound shield, angel. You can just let it out. Wanna hear all those pretty noises you make.”

With that, he leans in again, licking at you the same way he does when he goes down on you, alternating between soft laps of his tongue and sucking gently, right where you’re most sensitive.

You whine softly, rocking your hips against his in search of friction.

He hums in acknowledgment, but doesn’t stop, just switches sides, continuing to suck and lick and squeeze, keeping one hand on your back to hold you steady while you squirm in his lap.

If patience is a virtue, then Garrick Tavis should be sanctified for all eternity.

You don’t think you’ve ever been this needy in your life, this desperate for something, anything, to lessen the ache between your thighs. You know that he needs this as badly as you do, you can feel how hard he is through the thick fabric of his uniform, throbbing underneath you, but he isn’t going to let up any time soon -- you haven’t had the chance to do anything like this for months, being clear across the country from each other; he’s going to take his sweet time with you.

You’re about to ask if you can speed this up a little when he finally pulls back, kissing his way back up your chest before he stands up, walking you toward the bed. You squeak, clinging to him tightly, but he keeps you in place, strong arms hooked under your legs as he crosses the room.

“I’d never drop you, angel,” he murmurs, laying you back against the pillows and sitting by your side. “I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

“I know,” you whisper, gazing up at him.

“Good,” he says softly, giving you a sweet, chaste kiss. “Comfy?”

You hum in affirmation.

He rests a hand on your thigh, and you part your legs on instinct, knowing where this is headed. He gives you a smug smile. “Eager, are we?”

Your cheeks warm in embarrassment, but you don’t deny it — you’re very eager for him to touch you where you need it most.

“Relax for me,” he soothes, slipping his hand beneath the hem of your underwear and starting to circle your clit with gentle fingertips.

You sigh softly, settling a little deeper into the cushions and letting your eyes fall shut. 

They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, and you don’t doubt that — you’ve never felt more overwhelmed with love for Garrick in your life than you did today — but it also makes every touch, every kiss, that much more intense. You haven’t felt this good since the last time you were with him like this, in his room at Basgiath, but this is even better. 

There’s something about his touch that feels so much better than your own, no matter how many times you’d tried to recreate it yourself while he was away.

Maybe it’s the feeling of his fingertips, the skin a little rougher than yours from all his extra training, or the thickness and length of his fingers, filling you so nicely and reaching that special little spot so easily, pressing up against it and sending gentle waves of pure pleasure through your body. Or maybe it’s the tenderness with which he holds you, the gentle hand cradling your cheek and the taste of his lips as he kisses you slow and sweet, or the warmth of his body against yours, all that soft muscle to rest on, and the smell of his cologne…

Whatever it is, there’s no comparing it to just your hand and your imagination — you had stopped trying entirely after two very disappointing attempts, unable to get yourself there on your own no matter how long you tried. But now, after less than two minutes, you can feel your muscles tightening, feel that pressure building between your hips, your heart racing… 

You’re nearly there, and Garrick knows it. He reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers to ground you, and resting his forehead against yours. “It’s okay, angel. I’ve got you.”

You make an effort to deepen your breaths, shutting your eyes and focusing on Garrick; the feeling of his hand holding yours, the softness of his touch and the warm glow of his presence beside you.

You gasp, a rush of energy flowing through you a split second before you tighten around his fingers, crying out his name.

He feels it too, hears the soft rustle of leaves around you as all of the small potted plants you’d taken inside to save from the winter cold start to grow, leafing and blooming across every available surface.

He looks over his shoulder, amused. “That’s new.”

Your cheeks heat with embarrassment, your heart still racing as you come down from your first orgasm in four months. “Sorry,” you stammer reflexively, stunned. “I had no idea that would happen.”

“Don’t apologize, angel. It’s cute. And I like seeing you feel good. Like hearing it, too.” He strokes his hand over the curve of your hip soothingly. 

“Anything hurting?” he asks, gentle concern in his eyes. Since you told him about the pain your signet had caused you, he’s been checking in with you multiple times a day, especially after any form of physical exertion.

You shake your head no. “Never better,” you say with a lazy smile, still catching your breath. 

You fight the sleepy feeling that’s already settling into your bones- it’s been a long day, and he’s succeeded in wringing all the tension from your body, but you still want to please him, dote on him the way he did for you. 

It’s been so long since you’ve been able to please him, after all your time apart and how tired you’d been your entire third year with all those long shifts at the infirmary. Getting on your knees for him is the least you can do after that earth-shattering orgasm he gave you, and he’s always so gentle with you when you do, holding your hair back and praising you all the while… the thought has you pressing your thighs together with need.

You sit up, reaching for the waistband of his pants, but he takes your hand in his, stroking his thumb over your knuckles. “If you’re up for it, I’d really like to make love to you right now instead.”

You flush at the words, nodding your permission a little too eagerly, and he laughs, giving you another soft kiss before he pulls back to take off the rest of his clothes.

No matter how many times you’ve seen him like this, you still can’t help but stare. All the hours he spends in the gym with the boys and all those crack-of-dawn leadership runs have seriously paid off — his entire body is coated with plush muscle, and it’s undeniably attractive. 

You take the opportunity to pull off your underwear, tossing them to the floor before he climbs back up, settling between your legs. His body covers yours completely, broad shoulders taking up most of your vision, but you don’t feel caged in or trapped; you feel safe, protected, loved.

“Hi,” you whisper, blinking up at him.

He smiles, your nose brushing his as he leans down to give you a soft kiss. “Hi, my love.”

He braces himself on a strong forearm by your head, one hand smoothing over your thigh and hooking under your knee to raise your leg over his hip. 

You can feel how close he is to you, the slick glide of his cock through your wetness, stroking up and down and sliding over your clit.

“Please, Gare,” you whimper, shifting your hips in an effort to get him to stop teasing. “Need you.”

“You have me,” he replies, resting his forehead against yours. “You’ll always have me.”

Your breath hitches at the feeling of your bodies finally connecting. He’s worked you up so well that he could just sink right in, but he still takes it slowly, inching deeper and deeper until every little bit of space you have to offer is taken up. You fit together perfectly, like you were made for one another.

“I mean it, angel. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to give you the life you deserve,” he continues. “You do so much for everyone. I just want to take care of you, take that weight off your shoulders and give you a place to rest, protect you from all the hurt in the world, keep you safe and warm, show you how much I love you… That’s all I’ve wanted for years.” 

He draws back ever so slightly, moving forward, and your jaw drops in a soft gasp. You can feel his heart beating against yours, feel just how genuine every word is. It’s almost overwhelming, feeling the whole room teeming with life and love, that warm energy that’s enveloped the both of you.

“I thought I was going to lose you,” you whisper, as if you’re afraid that saying it aloud will make it come true. “When I saw you like that… it felt like the world stopped turning. I don’t know if I could live without you.”

“You’ll never have to,” he promises. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be with you for the rest of our days. It doesn’t matter where we are — here, or that godsforsaken school, or anywhere on the continent; you’re home to me. You’re my safe place, where I can let my guard down and relax, where I can feel what I need to feel.”

You reach up to hold his jaw, guiding him down into a kiss; wet and messy, broken up by your soft gasps, but loving, grounding.

He’s starting to slip, to lose his composure — he needed this just as badly as you did, and it feels like heaven for both of you. “Gods, angel, you feel so good,” he pants, picking up the pace. “Needed this so badly, missed this so much…”

You’ve very rarely seen Garrick out of breath; not during his workouts, nor flight training or anything else — only when he’s so deep inside you like this, chasing the release you both need so desperately. 

He reaches down to stroke your clit, gentle little circles that make the pressure build faster, intensifying everything.

“Gare,” you whimper in response, not presently capable of saying much else — not when your mind is this hazed with pleasure and all the sweet words he’s whispering to you, all the promises he’s making.

“I know, angel, I know,” he pants. He does know, knows that those soft little pleas and the way you’re tightening your grip on him means you’re right there, that if he keeps doing what he’s doing, it’ll make you cum again, and that’s exactly what he plans to do.

There’s nothing he loves more than watching you like this, so close to the edge, all soft and wet and brainless under him, looking up at him so fucking prettily, pure adoration in your eyes; completely at his mercy, but trusting that he’ll take care of you, that he’ll be gentle and loving— and he always is. 

That’s why you chose him.

“I love you,” you pant, finally forming words. 

“I love you too, angel. I love you so much,” he breathes.

You hear it again, those rustling leaves and blooming flowers, but this time there’s the sound of breaking pottery and falling books along with it.

Neither of you let that distract you, your eyes still locked on each other’s, hands still clasped together tightly as he continues to rock his hips against yours, continues those soft little circles on your clit until you shatter, your eyes rolling back and sweet little whimpers pouring from your lips.

Cumming on his fingers was nice, but this is so much better -- feeling so whole, your heart and your lungs and the deepest parts of you filled with Garrick’s presence, feeling him pressed against you after so many nights apart…

It’s simultaneously too much and not enough. You hold him impossibly closer, your fingers digging into the thick muscle of his shoulders and your legs wrapping around his hips, wanting him to stay like this, nice and deep, rocking into you so deliciously, his entire body pressed up against yours.

You can tell he’s right there with you -- his grip on your waist has tightened, his rhythm faltering and his breaths shaking. 

“That’s it, angel, just like that,” he rasps. “Feel so fucking good wrapped around me like this, taking me so well… missed you so much, my perfect girl, my soulmate… I can’t wait to marry you, to call you my wife, settle down with you… oh, fuck,”

You tangle a hand into the dark curls at the back of his neck and yank him down for a kiss.

He struggles to kiss back, gasping and panting against your lips as he nears the edge. It doesn’t take long before he stiffens, his eyes rolling back with a gorgeous little moan as he spills into you.

With a few slow rocks of his hips to ride it out, he collapses onto the mattress beside you, winded. “Gods,” he pants, his arms shaking from the prolonged effort of holding himself up. “that was…”

You laugh, tilting your head up to give him a soft kiss. “Yeah. It was.”

He slips an arm underneath your back and rolls you both over so you’re laying on his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist. You rest your knees on either side of his hips, keeping him tucked inside your warmth a little while longer.

You can feel your combined sweat and arousal dripping down your thighs, but you don't have it in you to care about that right now — he’s tired you out, but not in the way that the school had; no, he’s relaxed you so deeply that it’s bordering on hypnosis. A soft, fuzzy kind of tired, sweet and sleepy and safe. You focus on the warmth of his body and the slowing rise and fall of his chest underneath you, trying to match your breathing to his, to synchronize your heartbeats.

He strokes a hand over your back, from your shoulders to the base of your spine, up and down, up and down.  “You okay, angel?” he asks softly, sounding a little worried.

You nod your head yes against his shoulder, cuddling into him further and closing your eyes. “M’ perfect.”

He laughs softly. “Damn right you are.”

Your cheeks warm at the praise, as if he hadn’t spent the last hour telling you just that.

“We made a bit of a mess, huh?”

You turn your head to see the state of your floor and the desk — overgrown with tangled vines and flowers, many of the clay pots having shattered from the rapid growth of the roots inside. The wall to your left is covered in ivy, wrapping over your bookshelf, many of the volumes having been knocked to the floor. 

A physical testament to your love, of the growth and life you’re capable of when you have each other -- and a giant mess that you are absolutely not going to deal with tonight.

“I’ll clean it up in the morning,” you mumble, your cheek still pressed into his shoulder. “jus’ wanna be with you right now.”

He hums in acknowledgment, pressing a lazy kiss to your forehead.

“Gare?” you ask quietly.

“Yes, my angel?” he answers, fighting a yawn.

“I want all of that, too,” you say softly. “The settling-down stuff.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you answer, closing your eyes and picturing it. “A house of our own, with a giant garden where I can grow every kind of flower on the continent. And an apple tree, so I can make pie every year for your birthday.”

“Two kids,” he adds sleepily. “A boy and a girl. And a couple of dragons.”

“Someday,” you sigh. “But until then, I’m happy staying right here.” You nuzzle your cheek against his chest, over his heart. 

“Someday,” he murmurs in agreement.

You both hope that day can come soon.

[callsign-rogueone]

not eating dinner until this is posted or until someone drags me away from my laptop. the Garrick girls will be fed today, so help me god!

edit an hour later: I am being dragged away. new goal is before midnight PST 🥲

edit several hours after that: I said midnight, it's 11:09 and it's DONE. booyah. enjoy!

today’s the day, y’all. today’s the day.

If patience is a virtue, then Garrick Tavis should be sanctified for all eternity.

🌻🌻🌻🌻

[callsign-rogueone]

that post is also spark and liam!!! after she drinks water 🥺

I’m guessing you’re talking about this post, and yes!! it definitely applies to Liam and Spark as well.

I originally tagged it as Dain and Love, and I stand by that -- the Colonel is not a loving, caring father. I don't think Dain has gotten an "I'm proud of you" from that man once in his life. and don't get me started on the lack of affection or physical touch or anything. Mr. Aetos treats him like a soldier under his command rather than like his own child. but Love is very aptly named, like Angel. she's going to treat her boy with the tenderness that Colonel Hardass never did, and help him break some generational curses with their baby girl 🥹

but also, Liam and Spark, my beloveds! one hundred percent. everyone is focused on avoiding or undoing the damage she causes, rather than helping with the underlying problem(s). Xaden is focused on keeping her in line and out of trouble, because he's trying to maintain the marked ones' image. Bodhi is helping her control her signet, but he doesn't know the real reason why she struggles with it so much... and then there's Liam, who is the only one seeing that something is wrong and trying to help her as best he can without really knowing what's the matter -- but he's going to figure this all out pretty soon, and he'll get her the help she needs.

but back to the essence of the post, yes. he's going to continue to affirm her and tell her how proud he is and how strong she is for getting through all of that, etc etc. now, if he could just work up the courage to throw an "I love you" in there...

[callsign-rogueone]

today’s the day, y’all. today’s the day.

If patience is a virtue, then Garrick Tavis should be sanctified for all eternity.

🌻🌻🌻🌻