#fourth wing drabble

[bodhiscurls]

clean cut. ( bodhi durran )

bodhi gets tired of you feeling ticklish anytime he comes near to kiss you. barber yn activated, ready with a dagger to save the day and restore balance in the world (i.e he finally gets a kiss)

main pairing: bodhi durran x reader (gn)

themes: fluff

your laughter is like sweet honey, so warm and deep if he could bathe in it, bodhi durran decides he would.

"just one," he groans into your cheek but your hands come up to stop him immediately, forming a barrier between you and him. the distance is palpable and if it weren't for the sound of your loud giggles then he would have torn them down within seconds.

"well i'm sorry," you manage to get out between the fits of you heaving for air. "and how is this my fault?"

it's most definitely his fault.

as sharp and as quick witted he is, brave and determined to no fault. in the last few days, bodhi durran has become lazy with himself. you'll give him grace and draw this down to his extra training hours and drop off schedule stealing his time that the only few minutes he gets involve sleeping by your side to get whatever rest he can. he never imagined that the low hang of his curls draping over his chocolate eyes or his overgrown stubble that would tickle you anytime he drew close to you to steal a kiss would be such an inconvenience to him.

he tries again and pointedly fails. this time, instead of meeting your palm when he fights to place his lips on yours hes met with your shoulder as you turn away.

"stop it!" he complains, annoyance etched into his usual features. if you didn't find this so funny then maybe the sight of him would have scared you slightly but its bodhi. your bodhi who desperately needs a shave.

"nuh uh mister," you scoff, "you know i'm ticklish" you glare, body aching in a warning- that if he tries again you'll have to find a dagger.

"fine," he mumbles lowly and rolls off of you in an instant. the heavy weight of his body and warmth is immediately missed and you sit upright on his bed.

"where are you going?" you call after him as you catch the edges of his curls disappearing into the direction of his bathroom. when he doesn't respond, only huffs with annoyance you slide out of his covers to where your lover is hiding.

"bodhi," you call and you miss the step below leading into the bathroom and crash directly into him.

"hi," you whisper, face inches apart as he catches your body with such ease, holding you flush against him.

"hey," he whispers back, the fuzz of the hair tickling your skin once more and you bite back the urge to wiggle free. he lifts you up and places you on top of the cabinet where you sit comfortably and he stands between your legs. in the quiet of his bathroom he hands you his sharpest dagger and you quirk a brow quizzically.

"what are you waiting for?" he leans his forehead against yours. "do your worst," his breath warms the small air between you. slowly you work your way around his hair, just trimming each of the curls gently so that you're able to see the sliver of his forehead peak through and the brown eyes you've grown to love oh so fondly.

"much better," you smile, "maybe now you can actually see the world before you try and save it, executive officer durran."

he sticks his tongue in his cheek, grinning at you before rolling his eyes gently. "and here i thought long hair was a look."

"with hair that long i don't think you could even look at your reflection nevermind anything else," you tease and a burst of laughter explodes from his chest. he's buzzing and in this moment, he's easily the most radiant being you've ever seen in your life.

"come on hairy, let's fix that beard now," you swap the dagger for a razor and gently glide the blade along his cheek. you're so focused intently on trying not to cut him that you don't realise your holding your own breath. he stares at you, heart swelling and melting under your intensity and he can feel the love that settles between you. this domesticity couldn't feel any more natural. having all your attention on him makes him feel as if truly, he's the luckiest man to ever exist.

you hold his jaw with one hand and narrow your gaze, working your way around his face. slowly and surely, the fuzz is erased and the shadows of its existence begin to lie. you trace it gently, a clean slate, you muse. and tap the blade into the sink, running clean water over it.

"perfect," you mumble, admiring your hard and careful work. he's perfect, you think. and before you can slide off the cabinet to fetch a clean rag to wipe off the residue he grips the side of your hips, holding you in place.

firmly he presses his lips to yours and for the first time in days (read: forever) he isn't met with your stream of giggles and barricade of hands pushing him away. the kiss is soft, slow but still holds the longing he's carried this last week of missing your embrace.

"one more," he promises when you break free from his hold and plants a soft peck to the corner of your lips again. he grins at the flush creeping up your neck and onto your cheeks, a rosy glisten- evidence of his adoration and effect on you and you sigh into his hold, resting your chin in the gap where his shoulder and neck meet, wrapping your arms firmly around him.

but of course one more turns into a thousand more and you wouldn't have it any other way.

note: i dont really like this one but i'm determined to at least get something out. incoming next: hot bodhi nerd who takes his glasses off in the middle of a heated kiss. read: i am sleep deprived after working nonstop and need actual rest or i will slip into this delusional state permanently :)

[5sospenguinqueen]

Liam: I win.

Y/N: I have you pinned to the ground

Liam: I know

Y/N:

Ridoc: Just bone already!

[nelweensfic]

Fourth Wing : Afterward

So, this is the first part of many littles drabbles of what I think could be in the next book. This is not spoiler free, there will be a lot since it's kind of a sequel. So read at your own risk ❤️

This wasn't possible. I have to pretend to all Basgiath and the Fourth wing and my mother that I was the only survivor of the attack? That not only Liam died but also Imogene, Bodhi and Xaden? 

Xaden.

I swear to the Gods that he will regret lying to me. Or hiding the truth. Whatever. 

"You should try to find an excuse about how we survive instead of thinking of the past." Tairn growls. 

"You could have warned me." I reply, looking at the land below us, the college was in sight.

"You know we couldn't." Andarna says softly. "You weren't ready." 

"Ready to what? Telling me that my brother is not dead? That my mom had known about Brennan and hiding it? She must have asked dad to- " 

"Think better." Tairn orders. 

I look in confusion at both my dragons. They were trying to say something to me, Tairn always says that I'm smart but what should I know? I close my eyes and take a deep breath. 

"Brennan isn't dead. That's a fact. He's part of the rebellion, the very one Xaden's father was killed for, and all those one hundred and seven children's parents." 

"Continue." 

"Brennan told me that Mira also knows about him and mother too. Dad might know because he was a scribe, he changed the information. Mom should have asked him to change it, he had the power to do it." 

"Scribes are the most powerful ones, not the riders." Andarna quotes. 

"If I was meant to be in the scribes Quadrant, I could have seen the truth about it. Dad hid this letter for me, saying that I was where I was meant to be and I would have seen the truth." 

My eyes widen at the realization. 

"Mom put me in the Riders Quadrant just to hide the truth?" 

The parapet could have killed me. The first years could have killed me. If there wasn't Xaden. Why? Why would our mother want me in the riders so badly if not to plan to kill me? To not see the truth? I would eventually know the truth, I'm a rider now and I have the book. 

"Who gave you the book?" Tairn says as he twirled just above the college.

"My dad." 

"And you never find the letter right? After all those years with it." Andarna adds.

I nod. I love that book, I even wanted it in my bag before- Mira. Mira gave me the book at Monsserat. She told me she kept it before I crossed the Parapet to give it to me again later. She tried to warn me. She was the one. The letter might have been something she was hiding for years and tried to warn me with the only thing she knew I would keep close to me. A book. 

"But that doesn't explain why the scribes changed the past. Why does nobody talk about the Venin or the Wyverns?" 

"You're not asking a good question." Tairn says as he landed in the middle of the court, students screaming as they cleared the path.

I don't have time to ask what he meant when I see my mother, with the King and Dain running toward me. Dain and the king look at me with shocking eyes. Chills run on my skin when I understand one thing. Both of them were surprised to see me. They didn't expect me to be alive. But my mom, her eyes couldn't lie. I saw this face many time each time she was talking about my brother or sister. She was proud. 

She knows about the attack. And by the look of her eyes landing on my set of daggers she smirks. She knows. She knows I know about Brennan. Our eyes meet and she nods. 

"Cadet Sorrengail." She says firmly. "Why are you alone? Where is your squad?" Her voice was cold, as a General should be. 

"There was an attack." I say with trembling voice, pretending that I'm in shock. 

"An attack?" Dain asks as he moves toward me. Tairn growls and Dain took a step back. "Who?" 

The right question should be how many. I know that. What kind of enemy could have attack us if not a gryffon squad? Our supposedly only enemy. He knew about the attack. Of course he knew. I want to puke. I trusted him too. He's been my best friend since childhood. 

"I have a report to do, General." I says firmly. 

"Follow me." She nods and excuses us. 

I unbuckle my saddle and let Tairn and Andarna fly back to rest. This will be a long day. 

But I need answers. 

Edit: next part here ✨

[ladybirdswritings]

LITTLE WITCH, FIC — xaden riorson x reader.

DESCRIPTION: you wake— a captive girl with untamed power and no recollection of its origins. before you is a scarred, shadowy figure, whose taunts ignite your abilities—binding your fates in a dangerous encounter. NOTES - fourth wing fic !! leave me all your thoughts and opinions. i love them <33 | next part

two;

“What are you doing?” Your voice trembled, unsteady—a ballerina with mangled feet, poised yet painfully unnatural.

Xaden’s lips twitched, the faintest ghost of a smirk, as his fingers grazed the mahogany brush in his grasp. He didn’t answer, his dark eyes narrowing as he closed the distance between you. He seemed amused by all of this, or perhaps prideful.

You sat there, unchained but weak-hearted—though he had kept his promise. You were unchained.

Unchained and seated on an unfamiliar bed with grand, imposing posts and onyx-silk sheets. After an excruciatingly tense dinner, where every set of eyes at the table had cut into you like blades, Xaden had led you here. The silver-haired girl, in particular, had clutched her dagger tighter each time his gaze drifted toward your slouched figure.

Their whispers had danced around you like a ghostly waltz—sharp, feverish murmurs about your bruised wrists and hollow eyes. But you’d been too exhausted, too hollow yourself, to care. The soup in front of you had demanded all your focus.

You didn’t trust them. You didn’t trust him either—this man of shadows. Yet, inexplicably, he had fed you, given you a bed. And now he was… brushing your hair?

It was matted, straw-like, and stained with memories you couldn’t quite pluck free. The brush snagged against a knot, yanking sharply, and you winced. Xaden tensed, his patience fraying at the edges.

“I’m going to run you a bath,” he decided after a moment.

You didn’t protest.

He left, disappearing into the adjoining room, and when he returned, his outstretched hand was waiting for yours. Calloused, steady, and strangely anchoring. Against your better judgment, you placed your trembling palm in his.

“Come, little witch. If I wanted to bite you, you’d be bitten already.”

But as you rose unsteadily to your feet, his words stirred unease. He intended to join you.

The thought snagged on a sharp edge in your mind, but you were too weary to resist.

“Choose, Y/N,” a voice whispered from the corners of your memory, harsh and grating. “Kill him, and your power will be imminent.”

The agony hit like a tide, crashing over you until you clung to the onyx countertop for support. Xaden’s hands twitched at his sides, but he made no move to steady you.

When you raised your head, the mirror greeted you with a face that was hauntingly familiar: your own, but hollow, bruised, and unrecognizable.

“Y/N.” The name fell from your lips like a prayer, fragile and disbelieving. “My name is Y/N.”

Xaden nodded once, his towering presence unmoving.

“Yes, it is,” he said simply.

A flood of questions threatened to spill from your tongue, but you turned to him instead, accusation lacing your voice. “You know me.”

His expression didn’t falter as he began rolling up the cuffs of his midnight-black shirt, exposing veined forearms.

“No,” he said, his voice like gravel, “not personally.”

The irony wasn’t lost on you, given that he was about to bathe you. He looked at you expectantly, yet you made no effort to move. He needed to answer your question. You needed to know why.

“Strip,” he ordered, his tone firm but not unkind.

You remained still. His jaw twitched.

“If you’re going to sit there rotting in gods-know-how-long a time worth of grime, it’s going to be a great inconvenience for me. So you need to wash yourself— with or without my help. Your choice.”

Heat flushed your face, and the protest died in your throat. “Not. Personally,” you muttered under your breath, mimicking his earlier words. Were you to just sit wide eyed while he ran those awfully mangled hands down your skin? Your breasts, your— well.

For the first time, the corners of his lips lifted in genuine amusement. Slowly, he stepped forward, tucking a stray strand of your tangled hair behind your ear.

“Trust me, little witch. To me, you’re nothing more than a finely honed blade— sharp, useful, and exactly what we need to—” he stopped himself, and though you did not recognize much— you knew it was apprehension flashing in his eyes. “My desire belongs to the silver-haired girl downstairs.”

And your love, your mind supplied.

If that were true, why had they treated each other with such loathing at dinner?

Though Xaden’s words were an attempt at easing your hesitance— you still remained unmoving. Yet your prolonged silence seemed to unnerve him. He shifted on his feet before offering a compromise. “I’ll turn around.”

True to his word, he faced the wall, giving you the privacy to peel away the tattered cloth clinging to your starved body.

“Don’t turn around,” you whispered, tension straining your voice.

“I won’t,” he said softly, his shoulders rigid. “In the tub.”

The water enveloped you like an old lover, soothing every ache and gnawing pain. You curled into yourself, knees to chest, but when he turned back, the shadows didn’t entirely conceal you.

Xaden knelt by the tub, cupping water in his hands and letting it cascade over your hair. His touch was careful, deliberate, as he massaged circles into your temples. The silence between you was fragile but strangely comforting.

“You know of me,” you said at last, rephrasing your earlier accusation.

He hummed in acknowledgment, his hands moving with practiced precision.

“What am I?” The question hung between you, heavier than the steam rising from the bath.

Not who. What.

He paused, his fingers lingering on the sharp angles of your collarbone before he answered. “You’re very special.”

The words were maddeningly vague, but you didn’t have the strength to push. Instead, you murmured, “How did you find me?”

His hands resumed their work, scrubbing soap through your matted locks. This time, he didn’t pause.

“It took a very, very long fucking time.” He sounded exhausted at the idea of it.

“But you found me,” you pressed, desperate now. “Why?”

And then, the madness prickled at your very mind once more. Phantom voices humming… his voice— and his still lips. All within your head.

She doesn’t know her worth yet.

You think you do? This voice belonged to a woman.

She’ll learn soon enough.

Better hope she survives the lesson…

Before you had even a moment to ponder those ominous words, he tipped your chin upward, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“I told you, you’re special, little witch. But don’t make the mistake of thinking you know what that means yet.”

Your breath hitched as his words sank in. But before you could respond, he draped a washcloth over your trembling hand.

“Wash yourself,” he said, his voice dropping an octave.

Your cheeks burned as you obeyed, turning your body away from him to complete the task. When you finished, exhaustion pressed heavily against your fragile frame.

You knew your name, but not your home. Your love, your family or friends. Did you have any? This cage with its high stone walls and scrutinizing creatures, it frightened you.

“Please,” you whispered, tears blurring your vision. “Help me understand. I—I’m afraid.”

His eyes raked over your expression for a long moment— a mixture of admiration and pity flaring within them. He cupped your face in one damp hand, his thumb brushing away the tear that slipped free.

“Stop crying. I’ll help you understand,” he said, his voice soft but unyielding. “And you’ll hate me for it. But make no mistake, little witch: what my rebellion does to you won’t be wasted. You’re a weapon, dormant for too long. It’s time to wake you up. It’s time to win the war.”

����️’s: @emryb

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

Convenient Inconvenience

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

Fictober Challenge

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ervotica]

Oh! I've got one! Liam with a super cuddly reader, who's quiet and doesn't speak often, but at random times, she decides she needs a hug and they just cuddle, even if there are other people around.

pairing; liam mairi x fem!reader

warnings; none, just fluff. established relationship, fem!reader.

a/n; apologies this took so long to get out, my dear anon. i’ve been slacking on creative juices recently, and i’m not overly happy with this, but it’s better than nothing (and i adore liam. he’s my no.1 fictional bf <3)

You're late to breakfast this morning. You'd procrastinated the journey to the cafeteria, weighed down by a fatigue that filled your limbs with treacle and siphoned your motivation to move at all. Your bed had practically begged you to stay put, at least for another half an hour, and you’d obliged, heavy eyes falling closed for another few minutes of dreamless sleep.

There are some perks to second year, you decide. Free weekends are awesome.

When you finally trudge your way through the heavy doors, Liam's there to greet you with a grin that has dimples cratering at the centre of his cheeks and crows feet crinkling at his eyes. It's almost enough to dissipate the abounding lethargy that clings to your every muscle, mouth pulled down into a pouting frown that Liam desperately wants to kiss away. He refrains, only for the fact that you’re so shy you’d simply melt on the spot if he kissed you the way he wants to.

“Good morning, my sleepy girl. How are you?”

You forgo words, instead opting for nudging forward into his arms and squishing your cheek against the slope of his shoulder.

“Ah,” he murmurs, smearing a kiss to the very top of your head. “It’s like that, is it?”

“Mm,” you hum noncommittally, dead weight against his chest. His laugh rumbles through you, arms coming up and over your shoulders to settle you into the crease of his armpit; the tension from your body dissipates and you nearly vocalize your urge to drag him back to bed with you.

“Saved you some breakfast,” he says, one broad hand delving into his pocket and coming back armed with a chocolate crossiant— your favourite.

“Pocket pastries!” you giggle. “Every woman’s dream.”

“See, I know you so well,” he laughs right back. “Come and sit. There’s more where this came from.” He accentuates the statement with a cheeky wink and a kiss to the shell of your ear, delighting in the way you flush white-hot beneath him.

You snort, tipping your head up to press a kiss to his jaw. One, then two. He keeps an arm hooked securely over your shoulders when you move towards the table.

“I love you,” you say, muffled around a bite full of pastry. He kisses the crumbs from your lips happily.

“I love you, my girl. Want some more food?”

[laursdomain]

laurs⁴⁴⁴ masterlist!

masterlists for multiple characters below!

inbox is open, feel free to request for anyone below or a new person!

banner by me!

© laursdomain 2025 - do not plagiarize, steal, or republish my works without my consent.

⚔︎ fourth wing

xaden riorson garrick tavis bodhi durran liam mairi aaric graycastle dain aetos ridoc gamlyn sawyer henrick

𓆉 pjoverse

percy jackson jason grace leo valdez frank zhang luke castellan travis stoll connor stoll

ʚ ɞ other book boyfriends

aaron warner roman kitt

[fiahtheteaaddict]

Your Favourite Book With Your Favourite Person

Helloooo!! This is my first ever work, so bear with me if this is shit. I started reading Fourth wing recently and Liam is my sweet baby (I know what happens unfortunately, but still) and I decided to write a little something something for him.

This was inspired by my love for Harry Potter (Fuck she-who-must-not-be-named), and my hopes for someone who will listen to my Never ending yapping about it.

Warnings: None, Pure fluff

Gender Neutral Reader X Liam Mairi

I hope you enjoy!!! Please let me know your thoughts and maybe even send in a request! I don't know if I will ever really get to it, but if it inspires me... maybe I will!!

You lay there staring up at the ceiling, thoughts taking control as Liams soft breathing grounds you.

Dad, Alaine, Darius… Mom.

I miss them. The laughter, the stories. If only…

“Hey, you're awake.” Liam says groggily.

“Can’t sleep… too many thoughts”

“Talk to me, and don’t say you don’t want to, you’re furrowing your eyebrows the way you do when you’re thinking too hard and want to talk about it.”

“I'm thinking about my family” you say softly, almost a whisper.

“Your mom? Its her birthday today right?”

“Yeah. It's her birthday.” You sigh.

“Tell me about her.” Liam says as he sits up, moving his arm slightly. Genuine interest in his voice.

He cares. I know he does but this… he's always there for me, no matter what. When I need it or don’t, he's there. To listen and not some half assed way, but truly listen. 

You shift to lay your head on his chest as you slowly breathe in.

Where would I even start?

“Pass me that book on my nightstand please.” 

Liam leans over, you lift yourself a bit to make his job slightly easier, not too much of course, 

I wouldn’t want to make his life too easy, where's the fun in that.

Liam leans back over and you shift into your original position. Warmth envelops you as you sigh.

“Tell me about it.” He says.

“It's about witches and wizards, stupid I know, but my mom and I loved it.” You start, Liams thumb drawing small circles on your arm.

“Not stupid love, far from it. I think it's sweet”

“The rest of my family thought we were stupid, we talked about it all the time, never shut up about it. We would reread it every year around the same time and talk about it like it was our first time reading it. It was my favourite way to spend time with her, especially with how hard times would get. But she always made time for the book, and for me.”

“So witches and wizards eh?” Liam says with a smirk growing on his face.

“Kind of like us.”

“No no, they mostly use wands, and have all sorts of powers, not just one like us.” Liam hums in response letting you continue, and you do. 

You go on and on about the book, and Liam listens intently, taking in every word you say and storing it away. He has a soft look in his eyes as he watches you talk about your book with a bright smile on your face. His eyes were soft as he was basking in the moment.

Gods I love her.

“And then, oh my gods, he kills his parents. First his dad, and later his mom, but his mom was killed right in front of him! Like what the fuck, he was just a baby, and to do that in front of one… thats just sickening.”

You look up to see if Liams listening and your breath catches. His bright blue eyes are staring into yours, smile so wide and bright as he takes in every word.

“Continue, I wanna know what happens next.”

“I- How am I supposed to continue now?”

“What?” His brows furrow.

“You're looking at me like I'm presenting the moon to you or something.”

He laughs out. 

“You're happy, truly happy. I love how it looks on you.”

“Oh… um.” You're stuck.

“That's all?” He says teasingly.

“Shut up.”

He chuckles as he wraps his arms around you.

“I love you so much, you know that right?”

“I love you too Liam, so much, and yes I know.”

“Still wanna talk about your book? Or sleep?”

“Sleep now… I’m not done talking you ear off just yet.”

“I hoped you wouldn’t be actually, this book sounds interesting.”

You hum, not truly listening as his warmth envelops you, sleep slowly taking over.

“Got to sleep my little star.”

And sleep you did.

Pt2 coming soon!!! (Maybe Idk just yet)

[daydreamsandcaffeine]

pocketful of sunshine

hi, hello, it's me, drabbling again (and in a new fandom at that) after years of not doing so, but inspiration struck and would not leave me alone.

inspired by @violencelittlething's modern AU universe and very much inspired by this tiktok, I present a fluffy little Imrrick family mother's day drabble.

💕💕💕💕

To the untrained ear, the house is seemingly quiet as he closes the garage door behind him, but he hears the soft giggles and subtle kicking of feet on the staircase. He rounds the corner while keeping both hands behind his back, finding his toddler, sat on the stairs, bursting with infectious energy.

“Did you get the flowers, daddy?” She asks in a whisper, tone full of anticipation.

“I sure did, Bun.” Garrick chuckles at her excitement while bringing his left arm forward to show her a large bouquet of pink roses. 

Little Quinn lets out a tiny gasp and claps her tiny hands with glee, golden curls bouncing with the gesture. “They’re so beautiful! She’s going to love them! Can we go up and give them to her now with the other presents?”

“We sure can, but before we do that, I have another surprise. This one’s just for you.” As he finishes his sentence, he extends his right arm out towards her with a tiny bouquet of pink and orange wildflowers.

The little girl’s pale green eyes widen at the arrangement, and a squeal of delight passes through her lips. “Really?? For me?? It’s so pretty! I love them!” She curls her fingers around the bouquet to take them from her father and immediately dashes to the giant mirror by the stairs to admire her gift. “Daddy, look! I can be just like mommy today.”

Garrick looks on and can’t help but grin widely at his three-year-old and her adorable antics. “You look just like she did at that age, bug.”

“Really?!”

“You sure do.” He’s about to take a picture of the scene in front of him, when his ears pick up on feet quietly padding down the stairs.

“What’s going on down here?” An amused tone is evident in her question.

Delightful squeals turn into a panicked gasp. “Mommy, you’re supposed to be upstairs, so we can give you the presents!”

Imogen strides towards the mirror and crouches down in front of her daughter, a soft smile on her face. “Well, Bun, I heard your squeals and had to come see for myself what you and your dad were up to.” She replies, tucking a golden curl behind Quinn’s ear.

Forgetting that she was upset that the surprise for her mom wasn’t going as planned, Quinn giggles. “Look what daddy got me! We have matching presents!” She proudly shows her mom the bouquet of wildflowers while Garrick simultaneously presents the large bouquet of pink roses into her viewpoint.

“They’re very pretty, Bun.” Imogen’s smile grows at her daughter’s pride and enthusiasm. She shakes her head as she takes the pink roses in hand. “You two spoil me too much.”

Garrick sits down to join his girls and leans over to kiss Imogen’s forehead. “Because you deserve it, and we love you.”

Quinn wriggles closer to her mom. Not to be outdone by her dad, she plants a big kiss on her mother’s cheek. “Yeah, you deserve it cause you’re the best, mommy!” Quinn’s face brightens even more when she says, “And now I can be like you today with my own flowers!”

Too choked up to speak by the pure admiration and sentiment behind her daughter’s words, Imogen wraps an arm around Quinn and squeezes her mini-me oh so tight. “I love you, Bun.”

And in that moment as mother and daughter are wrapped up in each other while still holding onto their flowers, Garrick snaps a picture of his girls - his world.

[grimicarus]

18+ MDNI

This is pure smut, mostly Violet x reader but we got a Xaden cameo in there too.

Tomorrow was presentation day. And your pretty bird hadn’t been able to get up the Gauntlet fully even once during training. It would bug you if you didn’t know better, after all- what bird couldn’t fly?

So no, you weren’t worried about her. Violet would soar up the Gauntlet, through the chimney and over the ramp, and she would most certainly impress the dragons. After all, she’d caught your eye hadn’t she? And gods above, you couldn’t wait to watch her fly.

But she was getting in her head, foolishly, so- loyal dog that you are- it’s your task to bring her back down to earth. To center and ground her, to make sure she’s relaxed and ready for the challenge at hand.

Which is why you had stuffed her pretty mouth full of your thick fingers, to make sure she wouldn’t catch unwanted attention with her wailing as you devoured her pretty cunt in the light of the moon.

“Pl-pl’s-” She can barely speak around your fingers, pressing down mercilessly on her tongue and forcing her saliva to spill out onto her chin. Naturally, this drives you to abandon her delicious cunt on the precipice of her orgasm so you can lave your tongue over her face, scooping up the drool she was wasting. Fuck, she tasted so good.

“None of that, luv.” You croon, leaving her face wetter than it was before as she sobs and shudders at the tantalizing release you had left just out of reach. Fuck, she looked so pretty like this, needy and wanting, aching for you. For your mouth, your fingers, your everything.

Even now her hips were jerking desperately up against the space between your clothed abdomen and her slick cunt. “If you want somethin’ you just got to ask for it.”

Your smirk is mean, and your accent slips for her as you grin like a wild beast, snarling and slobbering over your pretty bird like she was something delectable to devour. Which is true. And she glares up at you with tears clumping her eyelashes together, your saliva drying on her cheek, and her chest heaving with pure need.

“Le’ me c’m.” She demands around your fingers, glowering up at you, and you smile widely— as though you hadn’t just spent the last hour edging her over and over and over in the empty rotunda where the cadet’s had all gathered that first day. You can’t help yourself when another frustrated tear slips out, swiping your tongue over her cheek to make sure that salty goodness didn’t go to waste. It wouldn’t do for her hound to be thirsty; now would it?

“What’s ’at?” You ask innocently, tilting your head a bit in faux confusion. “Couldn’ quite hear you.”

A spark of pain goes through your hand, and you moan noisily, hips jerking towards her thighs in one rough thrust when she fucking bites your fingers. Hesitantly at first, then harder at your reaction, until you can see the blood peeking past her teeth.

“Fuckin’ hell, such a perfect bird.” You moan, and the gods of this world must look upon you with favour to let you have this pretty bird yanking on your leash. You press your fingers a little deeper in her mouth, forcing them past her teeth, watching her gag around them as your other hand releases her thigh to push into her clenching cunt. “So good, all for me. Beautiful, powerful, delicious.”

The words are almost slurred with deliberate desire and hunger, and you abandon the game you’d been playing in order to reward her ferociousness by pummelling her sweet spot with two crooked fingers. Your thumb presses down on her clit, and you’re panting above her, eyes bright as you admire her moaning and writhing, bucking to get even more of you inside her.

A third finger joins the party between her thighs, and your other hand pushes down on her tongue until her jaw is open enough for you to lean over, gathering saliva in your mouth. She jolts when you spit down her throat, and her eyes roll as her cunt clenched down around your fingers. Her thighs shake violently, and her back arches until her nipples brush against your shirt while she cum’s hard.

You can feel something cold trickling over your scalp, and you force your eyes away from your Pretty Bird to scan your surroundings. It was your responsibility to keep her safe, especially now when she was so deliciously vulnerable. For you. Because of you. You had done so well as her loyal hound, helping her cum nice and hard before her challenge.

Shaking the thought from your head, your gaze eventually lands on a particularly shadowed spot, on the far side of the courtyard. One-two-three shapes. Three. Three intruders who had witnessed your Pretty Bird falling to pieces under your hands. She’s still riding it out, so you’re diligent in keeping your fingers moving. You did this. You brought her to her first peak, and you’d give her a second, and maybe a third if she was good. Who were you kidding, she was perfect.

You were going to treat her right, give the watchers the blessing of laying sight on her before you tore those filthy eyes from their skulls. You would gouge them out and serve them on a platter for your pretty Violet, rip their tongues from their mouths so they could never dream of sharing this perfect moment with any other. Maybe you’d even let them live. Maybe.

One figure tilts its head, and the other two draw back, and you track their path scurrying across the courtyard, darting through thick shadows until they vanished inside. No matter. You’d find them.

Your Pretty Bird catches your attention once more, whining and whimpering as you bring her overstimulated cunt to another peak.

“Wha’s at, luv?” You ask it like she could even answer, cooing down at her. “You’ve gotta speak up if y’ wanna be heard, Pretty Bird.”

Bending down to catch a nipple between your teeth rewards you with another shuddering moan, and you look up again to lock eyes with the figure. “Y’ve go’ an audience, luv.”

Your accent thickens, and Violet’s body tenses. You pull your fingers from her mouth as she tries to jerk up to see, putting them in your mouth to savour the taste of her spit. Your fingers grind against the sweet spot inside her, and her eyes roll as soon as she spots the shadow, cumming hard for the second time.

By the time she’s done, the figure is gone. But you’ve got an inkling feeling you know exactly who it was, after all. Xaden Riorson tended to have a problem with getting himself in other people’s business. You’d fix it, right after you cleaned your Pretty Bird up with your tongue, after all- didn’t you deserve another reward for your efforts?

[siobhanbooks]

For the immrick ask!! 😍

♠: One character adjusting the other’s jewelry/neck tie/ etc.

eeeee thank youuuuu!!!!! i love this idea soooooo much

♠: One character adjusting the other’s jewelry/neck tie/ etc.

Garrick fussed as he leaned over my shoulder, I could see his furrowed brow in the mirror we were standing in front of. "What's wrong?" "The necklace is lopsided," he replied as he adjusted it. "My mom always used to wear it like this.” He played with it a little more. “That’s better.” “What’s the fuss over it for?” I asked as he kissed the top of my head. He smiled at me, “It was my mom’s, she wore it on the day my dad proposed and she didn’t wear it on the day Fen declared the succession.” “So it’s good luck?” “Good luck to welcome in our new king, and to bless our engagement.” He took my left hand  and kissed it before running his thumb along the jewel that had once been my mom’s.

this was sooooo fun to write!!!!!

[widebrimmedhatsblog]

you write "enemies to ____" SO WELL. and i've had an AU daydream stuck in my head for a month that is violet as a second year scribe pulled into the revolution bullshit first because jessinia and liam started banging, but mostly because of the suspicion of it all

Oh thank you!! That’s such a fun daydream. Unfortunately, I don’t actually ship Liam and Jesinia, so a full fic with them in it would kick my ass, but you should try your hand at it!!!

Have this drabble as inspo (620 ish words, canon compliant, set during IF part one except Xaden is there because I wanted him to be):

“It’s second year rider business, Jes. I’m sorry.”

Violet peeks her head around the archive’s shelving unit just long enough to watch Liam’s fingers move, then settle. She should retreat back to safety. She should prioritize not getting caught. But she needs to know what Jes says back.

“Last time you had ‘second year rider business,’” Jesinia retorts, hands moving so sharply, they recruit her arms and chest for emphasis, “you came back bloodied and bruised.”

Violet can just make out Liam’s sad smile over the top of Jesinia’s head. The sight of it—that private sweetness—is almost enough to make Violet want to hide back in the stacks. Instead, she settles for pulling her hood higher over her head. If Liam happens to look her way, he might not recognize her if her hair is tucked under the cream fabric.

“A different type of second year rider business,” Liam admits. Somehow, his body language conveys his guilt without any of the usual signifiers. His hands are heavier, his motions softer.

Violet needs to know what it means.

The worst part is, Violet actually likes Liam. He doesn’t have that typical aura of rider arrogance, and he’s so good to Jesinia. If only he wasn’t a liar. Then, he’d be perfect.

Violet fiddles with her hood once more, covering as much of her head as she can. She steps backward, meaning to hide herself behind the shelf once more. She’ll come face to face with her books, and she’ll find one to inconspicuously pull off the shelf. When Jesinia returns from her boyfriend, she’ll be none the wiser to Violet’s scheming, just as it should be.

But, as she spins to face the shelves, there are no books in her line of sight. Instead, her vision is filled with darkness, a black shirt on a broad black chest.

She tries to swallow down her gasp, but she’s too slow. He hears it, and he smirks, relishing her surprise.

“Eavesdropping, Violence?”

“Deserting your post, Riorson?”

His smirk stretches even further across his face at her accusation. Her hate for him flickers in her chest, a twin flame to her annoyance, her invigoration. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I’m here on dragon business.”

She crosses her arms. He is not in her archives on dragon business.

“Riders aren’t allowed this far back,” she counters, eyes narrowed on him.

He merely cocks his head. He enjoys her scrutiny, too. “Mairi’s back here.”

“Yes, well, we like Liam. He gets special privileges.”

He doesn’t, actually. Jesinia’s completely fucked if any of the other scribes catch on to her study-dates. Of course, Jesinia’s completely fucked in plenty of areas. If her boyfriend’s schemes involve Xaden Riorson, traitor’s son…

Violet can’t think about that when the man is right before her. It’s dangerous. She intuits that much from the sight of the swords on his back.

He plasters a hand on his chest. “You don’t like me, Violence? I’m hurt.”

She’s not sure why his teasing gets her, but it does. She rises onto her toes and slams a finger into his muscled chest.

“I know you’re up to something,” she hisses, “and I am going to find out what.”

His eyes take her in, appraising her in her scribe robes.

“I’m sure you will, Violence.” He steps back, out from under her finger, and nods at someone over her shoulder. Violet spins to find Liam and Jesinia, watching the show. Her cheeks flush pink. She’d rather look at Riorson, so she spins right back around. He’s still smirking at her, bastard that he is. She hears the smirk in his voice as he adds, “Be sure to let me know when you do.”

She watches him leave, Liam at his side. She is going to figure him out.

[nelweensfic]

The Sorrengails

Read the previous part from my Fourth Wing sequel here 💜

"Cadet Sorrengail!" A voice rips me away from my daydream. "Did you hear what I just said?" 

"No, Wingleader Aetos." 

Things have been hard between me and Dain since I returned to Basgiath. I pretend I didn’t know he saw my memories without my consent. But I’ve been feeling so betrayed. Yet after months in Basgiath, I now excell at pretending nobody can touch me anymore. Unless it's a woman. 

"General Sorrengail wants to see you," Dain orders. He tries to reach for me but I step back just in time. "Is everything alright?" he asks.

He looks guilty, like he really does care about me. As if he really wants to check on me… about what happened… 

"Yeah, I'm fine." I nod and sigh. "Let's not let her wait. You know how she can be." 

He nods as I show indifference. If I have to pretend then I will pretend I'm bored of all of this. 

Xaden's right. I have to focus on being a better rider. They're not ready for what is coming.Though, neither am I. 

I walk into the hallways, knowing the path by heart now. The students think this is torture for me, seeing my mother everyday and coming back more defeated than before. Yet they don't know what happens there. They all think I’m getting tested all over and over. 

As soon as I knock on the door my heartbeat increases. 

"Come in!" Mom shouts from behind the door. "You're late, Violet," she says with accusation. 

"Let me pretend I don't want to come. People will be suspicious otherwise." 

Mom nods and stands up, walking toward the window next to her desk. The map behind her shows the real time ward problems. I’ve learned that it isn’t the real map. Not the one both of us know. 

"Xaden contacted me," mom starts.. "Venins are coming our way, quickly." 

My breath stops at the name. Xaden. I haven't heard of him since I left Aretia four months ago. 

"Is he here?" I ask, trying not to sound too desperate. 

"They're at the Vale," she continues with a smile. "He's waiting for you, actually." 

I look at her, confused. Not about the fact that Xaden is waiting for me. But why am I so excited by the news? I should despise him. He has lied to me. 

"It's my fault, Violet," mom says suddenly, hands resting on my shoulders. When did she move so fast? "Don't forget that I wanted you to learn how to fight. A new revolution is coming. Our revolution with Brennan. I know Xaden did his best to hide the truth to protect you. Brennan and I didn't want you to know before your third year." 

"I know," I whisper. "I need to be stronger." 

"And you will be, Silver One." Tairn’s voice resonates in my mind. "Come see him. He's asking too many questions about you. I'll burn him if he doesn't stop." 

"There is no training today," mom says. "I want you to bring me a list of names of the ones that will train with you." 

I look at her. She wants me to train others and let them know about it? I feel like she already knows who I’ll choose. I always hang out with the same people anyway.  

"We need allies, Violet. I want you to be sure." 

"You know who I’ll choose. Xaden would agree, so ask him." 

She nods. Why I talk about Xaden is beyond me. I miss him too much. Maybe not for the right reasons, though. 

"You’re dismissed, Cadet Sorrengail," mom said firmly. "Go see him, we'll talk again tomorrow." 

Edit: Next part here

[ladybirdswritings]

okay hear me out… xaden riorson x reader fic?

HERE SHE IS

[theoppositequeens]

wherever you stray, i'll follow

Fandom: The Empyrean (Fourth Wing) Rated: T Relationship: Bodhi Durran & Xaden Riorson Warnings & tags on Ao3. Spoilers for Onyx Storm.

Me and @ellebellewritesfic have this little challenge of doing drabbles for 7 Taylor Swift songs each for 7 days of Bodhi Week 2025 by @empyreanevents.

Day 1: Right Hand. Bodhi said he is Xaden’s right-fucking-hand. Wherever Xaden goes, Bodhi follows. Explore that. Song: willow.

wherever you stray, i'll follow

Bodhi feels like he can’t breathe.

But to be honest, he’s felt like that since he was told his cousin had channeled from the earth. Like he’s underwater, his whole worldview flipped on his head, spinning in an endless current of uncertainty.

Xaden has always been his focal point in life.

As a child, his older cousin was the coolest person Bodhi knew, and even cooler for indulging him, for letting him tag along. With parents busy running Aretia and planning the apostasy, the two of them were often left to their own devices.

Xaden led them into trouble, and Bodhi followed without question. He took the rebukes after, never protested or tattled, and he stuck to Xaden’s side like a burr. No one took him very seriously, always dismissing him as Xaden’s opinionless shadow, and Bodhi was fine with that. It saved him from having to voice any opinions. It left him space to just exist, to follow in Xaden’s wake.

Everyone thought him weak-minded or stupid or a mindless follower. But that isn’t his nature. He’s quiet and observant and anxious. And voicing his true opinions to anyone but Xaden was too much. It was easier to parrot his cousin’s.

And of course Xaden has always shaped his opinions. But then again, who isn’t shaped by the person that is closest to them?

It’s not to say Bodhi’s parents didn’t love him, but they weren’t there.

Xaden was.

And so Xaden became the most important person in Bodhi’s life, which was only cemented by the apostasy and the following years.

Bodhi’s never been strong, but he can be strong for Xaden. He’s a chameleon, always copying others, and emulating his cousin is much easier than trying to figure out who he himself is. What he wants. If he’s even got anything to live for.

They kept in contact over the years, fostered by secret loyalists, and Bodhi learnt that even when he’s away from Xaden, his life still revolved around Xaden. He likes it. It’s simple and welcome and takes the pressure off his shoulders. It’s easier to act, even in Basgiath, when he can just logically consider what Xaden would do and then do it. His own musings, his own rationalizations – he keeps those for his cousin, in the privacy of their rooms, and for Cuir.

The dragon is the one that protests, now, and Bodhi is so very sorry, but he can’t function without Xaden. The anxiety will overwhelm him.

They’ve clashed about it over the last few months, as Xaden has tried his best to set Bodhi up as heir and Bodhi has fought, kicking and screaming.

“I know this is the only thing you’ve ever fought me on,” Xaden said the first time, and he looked truly apologetic, but determined. His voice broke as he continued. “And I’m sorry, Bodhi. I don’t want to demand this of you. I don’t want to cross a line when you’ve never set one for me before. But I just don’t know what else to do!”

And Bodhi knew from the look on Xaden’s face that this was a matter they wouldn’t come to an understanding over. Xaden had already declared this an open-shut case, and Bodhi protesting would do nothing. It would only drive a wedge between them, and Bodhi suspected his days with his cousin were numbered.

There’s been a tension in the air since then, an awareness that while Xaden bends the whole fucking rebellion and the world around him into place, it won’t hold. It’ll snap. Soon.

And Bodhi won’t do it. He can’t shoulder the responsibility for Tyrrendor alone. It should go to a born leader, not a born thinker whose nature borders on anxiety.

But Xaden is trying to be rational. He’s out of options – unless he marries Violet. There are clauses in Tyrrish inheritance laws, and spouses and widows are considered equal, unless there’s a contract in place to determine the extent of their power.

Bodhi pulled his shields tight, long suspecting Xaden of having an inntinnsic second signet, and kept his own counsel. He fought just enough to make Xaden think he’s still protesting. Just enough to make Xaden forget that Bodhi is a follower. That Bodhi’s place has always been at Xaden’s right hand, as his support. Just enough to hide the dark thoughts creeping in.

Thoughts of forcing Xaden’s hand.

And now, Bodhi can’t breathe. The battle rages around him. He couldn’t protect Violet like he wanted to, couldn’t counter a venin signet with dragon channeling, and he’s relatively sure that if he only turned, he could. He’d be strong enough to protect his friends, to work for the right side in the shadows. Might be strong enough to keep Xaden’s humanity intact. Might be strong enough to save the continent, even if he dies in the process.

Cuir protests when he does it. Cuir screams in rage and betrayal, and Bodhi is sorry. It’s just that his universe has always spun around Xaden.

Wherever Xaden strays, Bodhi will follow.

[tickly-trashcan]

"Are You Ticklish?" {Xaden x Violet}

Violet gasped as Xaden pinned her into the dirt once more. She shot him a glare, but he only smirked in response.

“Where’s your spunk, Violence?”

“Up your ass,” Violet hissed. She made a move to knee Xaden square between the legs, but he quickly moved out of the way and turned Violet onto her stomach in one motion.

“Now, now, you wouldn’t want to kick me there, would you? How would I keep you entertained tonight?” Xaden whispered against the shell of her ear, making her cheeks flush with heat.

He released her arms and got off of her. Violet released a breath she did not realize she had been holding and got to her feet. Xaden walked to the edge of the grass and gestured to Violet.

“Let’s try one more time.”

Violet and Xaden had already been training for an hour outside of the academy, and Violet was pissed beyond measure that she was losing more sleep than usual over this man, but she still circled him in the patch of dirt that they had been training on. Her clothes were covered in it, but Xaden did not seem to have even a speck of dirt on him, which only served to fuel Violet’s mood.

Xaden made the first move this time, and Violet made a quick calculation in her head before dodging and aiming her fist toward Xaden’s lower back when he got behind her. Xaden ducked out of the way, grabbed Violet’s leg and pulled her to the ground once more.

“Ow!” She cried when she hit the ground. Xaden was quick to turn his attention away from training to Violet’s wellbeing and he looked down at Violet with worry. Violet took advantage of this and reached under his arms to shove him to the side. She set herself on top of him in a straddle, hands still buried under his arms as she panted heavily. Xaden stared at her with wide eyes before he smirked cockily.

“Little Miss Trickster, huh?”

“More like Little Miss Kicked Your Ass,” Violet chuckled. She went to pull her hands away and Xaden flinched. He was quick to correct his face, but nothing slipped past Violet as she cocked her head to the side.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Violet.”

Violet raised her eyebrows. She looked at where her hands were and slowly began to connect the dots. A grin began to grow on her face.

“Xaden…”

“Dont.”

“Xaden, are you–”

“Don’t!”

“Ticklish?”

Xaden shook his head, but Violet dug her fingers further in and wiggled them. Xaden’s breath hitched and he froze, staring at Violet with wide eyes.

Violet, I cannot keep my shields up if you do this. Tairn and Sgaeyl will hear, Xaden begged through their mental connection, his eyes pleading. Unfortunately for Xaden, this only piqued Violet’s interest more.

Sounds like it’ll be good practice, then, Violet teased back through the connection. Xaden opened his mouth to protest verbally, but Violet already began to wiggle her fingers again, causing him to gasp before clamping his mouth shut.

“Oh, now you’re gonna be quiet? You weren’t able to keep your mouth shut earlier, why start now?” Violet teased as her fingers traveled down to Xaden’s ribs.

Breathy giggles began to escape Xaden’s lips along with a few huffs as he squirmed under Violet’s touch. Violet began to tease Xaden through their connection as she began to trace the outlines of his stomach.

When were you planning on telling me about this, hmm? If I had known all it would take was a little tickling to take you down, I never would have been as intimidated by you, she taunted as she began to pinch his sides. Xaden arched his back and began to laugh softly, still holding back. He was not saying anything back through the connection, so he must have not been lying about his mental shields.

“I wonder how long until you give in… Is there a particular spot, or do I need to try harder?”

Xaden looked like he wanted to say something back, but he gasped when Violet found his hips. She grinned at his reaction and gave them a firm squeeze, making him bark out a laugh.

“Sounds like it was a particular spot, then.”

As Violet began to squeeze his hips, Xaden began to buck under her as he finally broke into peals of laughter. He shook his head back and forth, trying to pull his hands away from his sides, but Violet had him firmly pinned.

“Violet!! Plehehehease, don’t! Not thehehere!”

“Oh? Why not?” Violet taunted. “Are you too ticklish?”

Xaden shook his head and Violet rolled her eyes, switching back and forth between teasing him through the connection and verbally. The combination seemed to drive Xaden up the wall in a very satisfying way, so as Violet continued to poke and prod at his hips, she kept up her persistent teasing.

“Ooh, you’re even more ticklish here! I’ll keep this in mind for later when we’re in the bedroom,” she cooed when she began to squeeze between his hips and thighs. Xaden flushed.

“Dohohon’t you dahare!!”

You mean you don’t want my hands all over your body? I thought you loved that, Violet teased over the connection. Xaden threw his head back and whined, unable to stop Violet as she persisted in her teases.

As she scribbled her fingers along his inner thighs he howled. She began to laugh along with him, entranced by his fluster and his intoxicating laugh.

Sgaeyl and I would appreciate it if you two could keep it down, came Tairn’s voice. Violet stopped immediately and her face began to flush while Xaden wheezed beneath her.

And I would appreciate it if you could mind your business, Violet shot back. She heard a grunt of disapproval from Tairn, but nothing was said in response.

She waited a few moments and then looked down at Xaden. A smile was plastered on his face and his chest heaved up and down. Violet smirked.

“I don’t know if you heard, but Tairn didn’t technically tell me to stop.”

Xaden’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “Violet, I swear to the gods—“

Xaden could not even finish his sentence before Violet was back to squeezing his hips.